4 This is Catherine, daughter of Gaston and sister of Francis Phoebus de Foix.  On her brother’s death, in 1483, she became Queen of Navarre, Duchess of Nemours and Countess of Foix and Bigorre, and in the following year espoused John, eldest son of Alan, Sire d’Albret.  Catherine at this time was fourteen years old, and her husband, who by the marriage became King of Navarre, was only one year her senior.  Their title to the crown was disputed by a dozen pretenders, for several years they exercised but a precarious authority, and eventually, in July 1512, Ferdinand the Catholic despatched the Duke of Alva to besiege Pamplona.  On the fourth day of the siege John and Catherine succeeded in escaping from their capital, which, three days later, surrendered.  Ferdinand, having sworn to maintain the fueros, was thereupon acknowledged as sovereign.  However, it was only in 1516 that the former rulers were expelled from Navarrese territory.  “Had I been Don Juan and you Donna Catherine,” said the Queen to her pusillanimous husband, as they crossed the Pyrenees, “we should not have lost our kingdom.”  From this time forward the d’Albrets, like their successors the Bourbons, were sovereigns of Navarre in name only, for an attempt made in 1521 to reconquer the kingdom resulted in total failure, and their dominions were thenceforth confined to Beam, Bigorre, and Foix on the French side of the Pyrenees.  Queen Catherine died in 1517, aged 47, leaving several children, the eldest of whom was Henry, Queen Margaret’s second husband.—­M., B. J., D. and Ed.

Now it happened one day that the gentleman who was her unknown father came to the house of the Queen of Navarre on his way back from beyond the mountains, and as soon as he had set eyes on his daughter he fell in love with her, and having license from his mother to marry any woman that might please him, he only inquired whether she was of gentle birth, and, hearing that she was, asked her of the Queen in marriage.  The Queen willingly consented, for she knew that the gentleman was not only rich and handsome, but worshipful to boot.

When the marriage had been consummated, the gentleman again wrote to his mother, saying that she could no longer close her doors against him, since he was bringing with him as fair a daughter-in-law as she could desire.  The lady inquired to whom he had allied himself, and found that it was to none other than their own daughter.  Thereupon she fell into such exceeding sorrow that she nearly came by a sudden death, seeing that the more she had striven to hinder her misfortune, the greater had it thereby become.

Not knowing what else to do, she went to the Legate of Avignon, to whom she confessed the enormity of her sin, at the same time asking his counsel as to how she ought to act.  The Legate, to satisfy his conscience, sent for several doctors of theology, and laid the matter before them, without, however, mentioning any names; and their advice was that the lady should say nothing to her children, for they, being in ignorance, had committed no sin, but that she herself should continue doing penance all her life without allowing it to become known.