Rather surprisingly, despite its apparent high quality, the whereabouts of this portrait was not known until now. There exist two other known versions of the present painting, neither of equal quality. The first is in the Louvre (Fig. 1)[1] and the second is known through an archival image held in The Witt Library – erroneously identified as by “Dumonstier” (Fig. 2). The Louvre painting, also on panel and of similar proportions, is inscribed ‘QUEEN LOYSE’ in the upper left corner and on the reverse bears a label with the sitter’s biography. The museum dates their painting between 1580 and 1585, noting that two drawings in the Cabinet des Estampes could have served as a model for the composition.[2] An engraving by Léonard Gaultier (Fig. 3), dated 1581, further suggests these detailed head studies were completed at the beginning of the 1580s.[3]

Other notable portraits of the Queen include a magnificent three-quarter length painted in 1575 (Fig. 5) in the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston; and a similarly formatted bust-length portrait in The National Museum, Krakow (Fig. 4). The painting in Krakow is based on a composition ascribed to Jean Rabel and is incredibly like a drawing in the Bibliothèque nationale that is autograph (Fig. 6). Comparatively, these paintings are far more colourful, and the costume is accompanied by ostentatious jewels from the French Royal Collection. A repeat detail is the pearl necklace which includes a cluster of three pearls at regular intervals. Our portrait, along with others of its type does not include this exact piece but instead a simpler string of pearls with one large gemstone at her ear. We know that Henri III had an interest in fashioning – as well as playing with his identity – and it is thought this interest extended to his wife and her own public appearance.[4] The couple appear together in Catherine de’ Medici’s Valois tapestries (Fig. 7) where Louise wears the same pearl necklace that features in the Gaultier print and Rabel drawing.

The costume of our portrait is a useful tool in dating the painting. Gone is the French hood popularised in court portraiture by Jean and François Clouet, as well as Corneille de Lyon, earlier in the century. Instead, Louise wears her hair up in “la coiffure en raquette”. The Queen is presented in modern fashion, her collar, composed of flat pleats, is widely fanned out. The costume in our portrait is lined with lace – something that does not appear consistently in either the Louvre painting or the portrait ascribed to Dumonstier. Given its apparent quality and the additional detail in the costume, one could argue the present painting is the prime original for all other versions.

Louise de Lorraine, born in 1553, was the child of Nicholas de Lorraine, Duke of Mercœur and his first wife, Marguerite of d’Egmont. Her early life was marred by the turmoil of the French political landscape of the mid-1500s; the Wars of Religion - between the Catholics and the Huguenots - was a central element of the political strife. 

Only two years before being crowned King of France, Polish nobles chose Henri de Valois as the first elected monarch of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. It was en route to Kraków, the capital of his new kingdom, where Henri, then Duke of Anjou, and Louise de Lorraine first met. The duke and his retinue stopped at the court of Duke Charles where the young and beautiful Louise caught his attention – especially given that she greatly resembled Henri’s previous romantic attachment, Marie de Clèves, Princess of Condé, who had recently died after giving birth to the prince of Condé’s daughter in October.[5]

It was on 15 February 1575, at the age of 22, that Louise married Henry III and became Queen of France. Despite their initial romance, Henri quickly drifted and lost interest in his queen; in spite of this, Louise remained very loyal to him throughout their marriage, “We can and should praise this princess who, in her marriage, behaved to the king, her husband, so wisely, chastely, and loyally that the tie which bound her to him remained indissoluble and was never loosened or undone…”[6]. Louise was known for her piety and devotion to her royal duties, though she could not be entirely immune to the court’s intrigues. She was given a representational role as Queen consort and, despite their distance from one another, was often present, beside the king, at ceremonies, receptions and gatherings.

King Henri III, the fourth son of Henri II (1547 – 1559), was an unexpected successor of the French throne. His father, a descendent of the Valois dynasty, which had ruled France since the late fourteenth century, was a strong Catholic monarch whose rule was characterized by efforts to suppress Protestantism, reigned during much of the 1550s. His death in 1559 was a destabilizing loss for the country and the subsequent short-lived reigns of his sons, Francis II, Charles IX, and Henry III, furthered the increasing instability. The political fragmentation fuelled the religious wars, as different families, as well as intervening states, sought to control the throne. The result of which was by the late 1500s, the Valois monarchy was struggling for control.

Henri III was arguably the least popular of the brothers – despite his sincere efforts in reforming France - and, on 1 August 1589, he was assassinated by the Dominican friar Jacques Clément. Henri and Louise had not produced an heir and upon the death of his younger brother, Francis, Duke of Anjou, so began the War of the Three Henrys (also known as the Eighth War of Religion) which lasted from 1585 to 1589. It was Henri de Navarre, later Henri IV of France, who became the Protestant heir presumptive, and eventually the first Bourbon king to the throne.

After her husband’s murder, Louise is said to have descended into deep mourning, an event that would define the remainder of her life.[7] She withdrew from the public eye and retreated to the Château de Chenonceau – a palace she had inherited from her mother-in-law Catherine de’ Medici - where she lived the remainder of her life dedicated to religious devotion and seclusion. Louise never remarried, and her prolonged mourning became symbolic of the profound grief she felt for the loss of her husband. Pope Clement VIII wrote to her:

Nous voudrions, écrivait-il à la reine, que vous ne vous abandonnassiez pas si fort à la diuleur que vous cause le souvenir des choses passées, qui ne se peuvent plus changer; et que, par une réflexion digne de votre prudence et de votre grand courage, vous considérassiez que, comme rien n’échappe à la providence divine toutes les croix et afflictions qui nous arrivent doivent êtrre portées avec un spirit de resignation et de patience.[8]

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“We would like,” he wrote to the queen, “that you would not give in so much to the distress caused to you by the memory of past things, which can no longer be changed; and that, through a reflection worthy of your prudence and your great courage, you consider that, as nothing escapes divine providence, all the crosses and afflictions that happen to us must be borne with a spirit of resignation and patience…”

[1] This version, according to Lemoisne in 1924, is very damaged and repainted. It was further examined in September 1961.” See: https://agorha.inha.fr/ark:/54721/0326ba4f-d6d7-40a7-a69c-269cc3263b19

[2] https://collections.louvre.fr/en/ark:/53355/cl010066146

[3] While all versions are generally dated around 1575, i.e. when she married Henri III, Charles Sterling and Hélène Adhémar indicate that this portrait was painted around 1580 - 1585, based on a print, engraved by Léonard Gaultier and dated 1581. See: C. Sterling and H. Adhémar, Peintures: ecole francaise, XIVe , XVe et XVIe Siecles, Paris 1965. Also see: https://agorha.inha.fr/ark:/54721/2823933b-b655-4acb-90f6-f04e23e498d4

[4] Some have gone as far to say that he dressed his Queen like a doll so that she might better suit the image of his court.

[5] M. Walker Freer, Henry III, King of France and Poland: his court and times. From numerous unpublished sources, New York 1888, p. 254.

[6] P. de Bourdeille Brantôme, The book of the ladies (illustrious dames), London 1899, pp. 280 – 282.

[7] P. de Bourdeille Brantôme, The book of the ladies (illustrious dames), 1899, pp. 280 – 282.

[8] E. Reynaud, Louise de Lorraine: La reine blanche de Chenonceau, Paris: 2011, p. 149.