CHRISTINA, DUCHESS OF LORRAINE
1541-1545
I.
[Sidenote: JAN., 1477] KING RENÉ]
The ducal house of Lorraine, into which Christina had now married, was
one of the oldest and proudest in Europe. The duchy took its name of
Lotharingia from Lothair, a great-grandson of Charlemagne, who reigned
over a vast kingdom stretching from the banks of the Scheldt and Rhine
to the Mediterranean. After this monarch's death, his territories
became the object of perpetual contention between the German Empire
and France, and were eventually divided among a number of Counts and
Barons who owned the Emperor or the French King as their suzerain.
Godfrey of Bouillon, the leader of the first Crusade, was one of many
illustrious Princes who reigned over Lorraine; but Gerard d'Alsace, who
died in 1046, was the ancestor of the ducal house to which Christina's
husband belonged.[317] From him descended a long line of hereditary
Princes, who were loyal vassals of France and took an active part in
the wars against England. Raoul, the founder of the collegiate church
and Chapter of St. Georges at Nancy, was killed fighting valiantly
at Crécy, and his son John was taken prisoner with the French King by
the Black Prince at Poitiers. Duke John's second son, Ferry, Count
of Vaudemont and Joinville, fell at Agincourt. In 1444 this Prince's
grandson, Ferry II., the representative of the younger branch of the
House of Lorraine, married Yolande, daughter of René of Anjou, King of
Provence, Jerusalem, and Sicily, and Duke of Lorraine in right of his
wife, Isabella, the heiress of Duke Charles II. Yolande, whose sister,
Margaret of Anjou, married Henry VI., became Duchess of Lorraine after
the death of her nephew in 1473, and united the two branches of the
family in her person. But she renounced the sovereignty in favour of
her son, René II., who still bore the proud title of King of Sicily and
Jerusalem, although, as the English Ambassador, Wotton, remarked, he
had never seen either the one or the other. René had a fierce struggle
for the possession of Lorraine with Charles of Burgundy, who defeated
him completely in 1475, and entered Nancy in triumph. But in January,
1477, King René recovered his duchy with the help of the Swiss, and
Charles was defeated and slain in a desperate battle under the walls of
Nancy.[318]
Ten years later René married Philippa of Egmont, sister of Charles,
Duke of Guelders, and, together with his admirable wife, devoted the
rest of his life to the welfare of his subjects and the improvement
of the capital. During his reign the ducal palace, founded by his
ancestors in the fourteenth century, was enlarged and beautified, and
the neighbouring church and convent of the Cordeliers were built. Here
René was buried after his early death in 1508, and his sorrowing wife
reared a noble monument in which he is represented kneeling under a
pinnacled canopy crowned by a statue of the Virgin and Child.[319]
[Sidenote: DEC., 1519] QUEEN PHILIPPA]
Six stalwart sons grew up under Philippa's watchful eye, to bear
their father's name and maintain the honour of his house. The eldest,
Antoine, succeeded René as Duke of Lorraine and Bar, and the second,
Claude, became a naturalized French subject, and inherited the family
estates in France, including Joinville, Guise, and Aumale. Both Princes
were educated at the French Court, where Claude became the friend and
companion of the future King Francis, and in 1513 married Antoinette
de Bourbon, the Count of Vendôme's daughter. This lovely maiden was
brought up with her cousins, Louis XII.'s daughters, the elder of whom
married Francis of Angoulême, the heir to the Crown. When, in 1515,
this Prince succeeded his father-in-law on the throne, he promised the
young Duke of Lorraine the hand of Louis XII.'s widow, Mary of England;
but the fair Dowager had already plighted her troth to Brandon, Duke
of Suffolk, and Antoine consoled himself with another Princess of the
blood royal, Renée de Bourbon, daughter of Gilbert de Montpensier and
Chiara Gonzaga. The wedding was celebrated at Amboise on the 26th of
June, 1515, and Antoine and Claude both left their brides in Lorraine
with Queen Philippa while they followed Francis to Italy. There they
fought gallantly by the King's side at Marignano. Antoine was knighted
on the field of battle, while Claude received a dangerous wound, and a
third brother was slain in the mêlée. Two of Philippa's younger sons
lost their lives in the French King's later campaigns. One was killed
at Pavia, and Louis, the handsomest of all his handsome race, died of
the plague in Lautrec's army before Naples. A sixth son, Jean, Bishop
of Metz, was made a Cardinal at twenty, and, like his brother, Claude
of Guise, became a prominent figure at the French Court.
During Antoine's absence his duchy was governed wisely and well by
his mother, Philippa; but when he no longer needed her help, the good
Queen retired from the world, and on the 8th of December, 1519, entered
the Order of the Poor Clares at Pont-à-Mousson. Here she spent the
remaining twenty-seven years of her life in works of devotion, and
edified her family and subjects by the zeal with which she performed
the humblest duties, going barefoot and wearing rough serge. But she
still retained great influence over her sons, who were all deeply
attached to her and often came to visit her in the convent. By a will
which she made when she forsook the world, she left her furniture,
jewels, and most of her property, to her second son, Claude, "pour
aider ce jeune ménage,"[320] and the Duke and Duchess of Guise went
to live at her dower-house of Joinville, the _beau châtel_ on the
heights above the River Marne, which had once belonged to St. Louis's
follower, le Sieur de Joinville. Here that remarkable woman, Duchess
Antoinette, the mother of the Guises, reared her large family, the six
sons who became famous as soldiers or prelates, and the four beautiful
daughters who were courted by Kings and Princes. Antoine's wife, Renée,
had not the ability and force of character which made her cousin a
power at the French Court, as well as in her own family, but she was
greatly beloved in Lorraine, and inherited the cultivated tastes of
her Gonzaga mother--the sister of Elizabeth, Duchess of Urbino, and
sister-in-law of the famous Isabella d'Este. Renée brought the graces
and refinement of the Mantuan Court to her husband's home, and the
blossoming of art which took place at Nancy during Antoine's reign was
largely due to her influence.
[Illustration: GRANDE PORTERIE. PALAIS DUCAL, NANCY]
_To face p. 260_
[Sidenote: AUG., 1541] THE DUCAL PALACE]
A whole school of local architects and painters were employed to adorn
the ducal palace, which under his rule and that of his immediate
successors became, in the words of a contemporary, "as fine a
dwelling-place for a great Prince as could possibly be desired."[321]
King René had rebuilt the older portions of the house; his son now
added the noble gateway known as "La Grande Porterie," with his own
equestrian statue carved by Mansuy Gauvain, and the magnificent upper
gallery called "La Galerie des Cerfs," from the antlers and other
trophies of the chase which hung upon its walls.[322] A wealth of
delicate sculpture was lavished on the façade. Flowers and foliage,
heraldic beasts and armorial bearings, adorned the portal; "le bœuf qui
prêche"--an ox's head in a pulpit--appeared in one corner, and on the
topmost pinnacle, above the busts of René and Antoine, a monkey was
seen clad in a friar's habit. Within, the vaulted halls were decorated
with stately mantelpieces and richly carved friezes. Without, the roofs
glittered with gilded copper fretwork and a tall bronze _flèche_,
bearing the cross of Lorraine and the thistle of Nancy, crowned the
"Tour du Paradis," which enclosed the fine spiral staircase leading
to the Galerie des Cerfs. Another round tower, containing an inclined
way broad enough for a horse and chariot, stood in the older part of
the palace, and led up to the Treasury, where the Crown jewels were
kept. Here, too, were the apartments occupied by the ducal family. On
one side they opened on to the "Cour d'Honneur," where tournaments
and pageants were held. On the other the windows looked down on
the gardens, with their cut yews and box hedges, their arbours and
bosquets, and in the centre a superb fountain adorned with _putti_ by
Mansuy Gauvain; while beyond the eye ranged across the sleepy waters of
the moat to green meadows and distant woods.[323] The grand portal and
state-rooms at the new end of the palace looked down on the Grande Rue,
and were only divided by a narrow street from the shops and stalls of
the market-place. The fact that the Duke's house stood in the heart of
the city naturally fostered the affection with which he was regarded by
the people of Nancy. The citizens were familiar with every detail of
the ducal family's private life, and took the deepest interest in their
comings and goings, their weddings and funerals, in the guests who
arrived at the palace gates, and in the children who grew up within its
walls.
Duke Antoine was especially beloved by his subjects. Early in life
he had learnt by experience the horrors of war, and all through his
reign he tried manfully to preserve a strict neutrality between the
rival powers on either side, with the result that Lorraine enjoyed
an unbroken period of peace and prosperity. The burden of taxation
was lightened, trade and agriculture flourished, and the arts were
encouraged by this good Prince, who was justly called the "father of
his people." When his beloved wife Renée died, in June, 1539, his
sorrow was shared by the whole nation.
"Since I sent my last letter," wrote the Duchess of Guise to
her daughter in Scotland, "you will have heard of the death of
your aunt--whom God pardon--a fortnight ago. The attack--_a
flux de ventre_--which carried her off only lasted nine days,
but she was enfeebled by long illness. Nature could no longer
offer any resistance, and God in His good pleasure took her to
Himself. She died as a good Christian, doing her duty by all
and asking forgiveness of everyone, and remained conscious to
the end. After Friday morning she would not see her children,
or even her husband, but, as this distressed him greatly, she
sent for him again after she had received God. On Sunday she
was anointed with holy oil, and died at ten o'clock the next
evening. It was the tenth of June. It is a heavy loss for all
our family, but your uncle bears up bravely. He sent for us,
and I set out for Nancy at once, but only arrived there after
her death. Your father, with whom I have been in Picardy,
followed on Saturday. I have just returned to Pont-à-Mousson,
where I came to see my mother-in-law, the good old Queen. The
funeral will be on St. John's Day, and your aunt will be buried
in the Cordeliers, opposite the tomb of the late King" (René
II.).[324]
Four days after his wife's death, Antoine himself sent these touching
lines to his niece, the Queen of Scotland:
[Sidenote: AUG., 1541] FRANCIS OF LORRAINE]
"I was glad to hear from you the other day, Madame, and must
tell you the great sorrow which it has pleased God to send
me, in calling my wife to Himself. She died on the morrow of
Pentecost. God be praised, Madame, for the beautiful end which
she made, like the good Christian that she was. Commend me to
the King your lord; and if there is any service which I can
render you or him, let me know, and I will do it gladly.
"Your humble and loving uncle,
"ANTOINE."[325]
Renée bore the Duke a large family, but only three of her children
lived to grow up: Francis, Marquis of Pont-à-Mousson, born in 1517;
Anne, the Princess of Orange, who was five years younger; and Nicolas,
Count of Vaudemont, born in 1524, who took Deacon's Orders, and became
Bishop of Metz when the Cardinal of Lorraine resigned this see. Francis
had the French King for his godfather, and was sent, as a matter of
course, to be educated at the Court of France with the Dauphin. This
Prince inherited the tall stature and regular features of his father's
family, together with his mother's love of art and letters. His
studious tastes and quick intelligence made him the delight of all his
teachers, and King Francis was heard to say that the Marquis du Pont
was the wisest Prince of his age. But although he could ride and tilt
as well as any of his peers, he was never robust, and the strain of
melancholy in his nature increased as years went by. In 1538 the young
Marquis accompanied his father to meet the Emperor at Aigues-Mortes,
and made a very favourable impression on Charles, who proposed that
he should marry one of King Ferdinand's daughters. Several other
alliances had been already suggested for this promising Prince.[326]
In 1527, while he was still a boy, the fateful marriage between him
and Anne of Cleves had been arranged; and when this was abandoned,
King Francis first offered him one of his own daughters, and then his
cousin, Mary of Vendôme, whom the King of Scotland had deserted for
the fair Duchess of Longueville. At the same time Henry VIII. asked
Castillon to arrange a marriage between his daughter Mary and the heir
of Lorraine.[327] But from the moment that Francis of Lorraine saw
the Duchess of Milan at Compiègne his choice never wavered, and his
constancy triumphed in the end over all difficulties.
The lamented death of Duchess Renée, and the marriage of her only
daughter, Anne, in the following year, had left the palace at Nancy
without a mistress, and rendered Christina's presence there the more
welcome. The old Duke was as proud of his daughter-in-law as his
subjects were of their young Duchess, and Christina's frank manners
and open-handed generosity soon made her very popular in Lorraine. She
received a cordial welcome from Antoinette and the Guise Princes at
Joinville, and was on the best of terms with her young brother-in-law,
Monsieur de Metz. Above all, she was adored by her spouse, whose
devotion to Christina quickly dispelled the Duchess of Guise's fears
lest this grave and thoughtful Prince should not prove a good husband.
His love satisfied every longing of her heart, and filled her soul with
deep content. After all the storms of her early youth, after the lonely
months at Milan and Pavia, after the disappointment of her cherished
hopes, the young Duchess had found a happiness beyond her highest
dreams. As she wrote to her old friend Granvelle a few months later:
"My husband treats me so kindly, and has such great affection for me,
that I am the happiest woman in the whole world."[328]
[Sidenote: NOV., 1541] A VISIT TO FONTAINEBLEAU]
II.
The King of France's ill-temper was the one drawback to the general
satisfaction with which Christina's marriage had been received. The
coldness with which he treated the Duke of Lorraine and his son, the
sacrifice of their rights on Bar, rankled in the old man's heart. His
surprise was the greater when he received a courteous invitation to
bring his son and daughter-in-law on a visit to the French Court. His
brother the Cardinal wrote saying that Queen Eleanor was anxious to see
her niece, and that the King wished to confer the Order of St. Michel
on her lord, and begged Duke Antoine to accompany the young couple to
Fontainebleau.
Christina and her husband, who since his marriage had become a strong
Imperialist, were reluctant to accept the invitation, lest an attempt
should be made to draw Lorraine into an alliance against the Emperor.
But the Cardinal's bland promises and Antoine's anxiety to keep on
good terms with the King prevailed over their hesitation, and early
in November the two Dukes and the young Duchess spent three days at
Fontainebleau. Hunting-parties and banquets occupied the first two
days. Eleanor took the greatest delight in her niece's company, and the
King, who could never resist a woman's charms, was assiduous in his
attention to Christina. The Queen of Navarre's presence afforded the
Duchess additional pleasure, and this accomplished Princess showed her
Leonardo and Raphael's paintings, and did the honours of the superb
palace which had excited the Emperor's admiration two years before.
On the third evening the King expressed his wish to confer the Order
of St. Michel on the young Duke in so pressing a manner that it was
impossible to refuse this offer. But an unpleasant surprise was in
store for him and his father. The next morning the Cardinal informed
them that the King demanded the cession of the town and fortress of
Stenay, in return for the privilege of holding the duchy of Bar.
This unexpected demand aroused an indignant protest from Antoine and
Francis. Stenay was one of the bulwarks of Lorraine, and its position
on the frontiers of Luxembourg made it of great importance to the
defence of the empire. But nothing that the Duke and his son could
say was of the slightest avail. They were told that if Stenay was not
surrendered peaceably the King would declare war and reduce their
country to subjection. These threats alarmed the old Duke to such a
pitch that before leaving Fontainebleau he was induced to sign a treaty
by which Stenay was given up in perpetuity to the French Crown. It
was a grievous blow to the prestige of Lorraine, and filled Christina
and her husband with grave fears for the future. The following letter
which the Duchess wrote to Granvelle a few weeks afterwards shows how
bitterly she resented the wrong:
[Sidenote: NOV., 1541] THE CESSION OF STENAY]
"You have no doubt heard of the voyage which the Lord Duke my
father-in-law, my husband, and I, took to the French Court,
where we made a very short stay, but one which turned out very
badly for our house. For the King used violent threats to my
father and husband, and sent my uncle the Cardinal to tell them
that, if they did not satisfy his demands, he would prove their
worst enemy, and make them the smallest people in the world.
So they were compelled to give him the town of Stenay, which
is a great loss to this house, and has vexed my husband and
me sorely, showing us how much we are despised on that side,
and to what risk of destruction we should be exposed if it were
not for the good help of the Emperor, in whom I place my whole
trust."[329]
Unfortunately for the Duchess and her husband, Charles was at this
moment engaged in his disastrous expedition to Algiers. The news of the
tempest which wrecked his fleet on the coast of Africa had reached the
French Court, and it was confidently asserted that the Emperor himself
had perished, or was a prisoner in Barbarossa's camp. These disquieting
rumours were set at rest early in December by his safe return to
Cartagena with the remnants of his army. But his enemies had been
active in his absence. On the 15th of November the Duke of Lorraine set
his seal to the deed of cession, and a week later a French garrison
took possession of Stenay. General indignation was excited throughout
Europe by this arbitrary act. Mary of Hungary entered a vigorous
protest in her brother's name against this surrender of an imperial
fief, and no sooner did the news reach Charles than he told his
Ambassador to require the French King to do homage for the town. The
new English Ambassador, Paget, who arrived at Fontainebleau a few days
after the Lorraine Princes left Court, noticed that the King "looked
very black, as if the Imperial Envoy had spoken of matters not all the
pleasantest"; while he informed his royal master that the entertainment
of the Duke of Lorraine had been but cold, and that he had lost all
credit with the French.[330] When Chapuys told King Henry at Christmas
how King Francis had snatched Stenay from the Duke of Lorraine, the
English monarch only shrugged his shoulders, saying he had always known
no good would come out of that marriage.[331]
Meanwhile Christina and her husband found some consolation for their
wounded feelings in the friendly reception which they met with at
Joinville, on their return from France. The Duke and Duchess of Guise
came to meet them at Annonville, and were eager to do honour to their
nephew's bride and show her the beauties of their stately home. They
had lately decorated the halls and chapel with paintings and statues,
and Antoinette had laid out terraced gardens along the wooded slopes on
the River Marne, adorned with pavilions and fountains. Nothing escaped
the eye of this excellent lady, who watched over the education of her
children and the welfare of her servants, and managed her kitchen,
stables, and kennels, with the same indefatigable care. Her household
was a model of economy and prudence, and her works of mercy extended
far beyond the limits of Joinville. The active correspondence which she
kept up with her eldest daughter, the Queen of Scotland, abounds in
details regarding every member of her family, and above all her little
grandson, the Duke of Longueville. The Duchess's letters are naturally
full of this precious boy, who was the pet and plaything of the whole
household, and on whose perfections she is never tired of dwelling.
For his mother's benefit, she sends minute records of his height and
appearance, of the progress which he is making at lessons, the walks
which he takes with his nurse.
[Sidenote: NOV., 1541] AT JOINVILLE]
"We have here now," she wrote to Mary of Guise, on the 18th of
November, "not only your uncle, but the Duke and Duchess of
Bar, on their way back from Court. They are all making good
cheer with us, and your father is so busy entertaining them
that you will hardly have a letter from him this time. Your
eldest brother [Aumale] is here too, but goes to join the
King at Fontainebleau next week. I shall go to my mother [the
old Countess of Vendôme], who is quite well, and so also is
the good old Queen, your grandmother. I have kept as a _bonne
bouche_ for you a word about our grandson, who will soon be a
man, and is the finest child that you ever saw. I am trying
to find a painter who can show you how tall, healthy, and
handsome, he is."
Sad news had lately come from Scotland, where the Queen's two children,
a boy of a year old and a new-born babe, had died in the same week.
Antoinette's motherly heart yearned over her absent daughter in this
sudden bereavement.
"Your father and I are sorely grieved at the loss you have
suffered," she wrote to Mary; "but you are both young, and I
can only hope that God, who took away those dear little ones,
will send you others.... If I were good enough for my prayers
to be of any avail with God, I would pray for this, but I can
at least have prayers offered up by others who are better than
I am, especially by the good Queen in her convent and her
holy nuns. We are glad to hear the King bears his loss with
resignation, and trust God will give you patience to live for
Him in this world and in the next, to which tribulation is the
surest way."
And in a postscript she adds a word of practical advice, saying that
she did not like to hear of the poor babes having so many different
nurses, and fears this may have been one cause of the mischief.[332]
In return for this affectionate sympathy, King James sent his
mother-in-law a fine diamond and a portrait of himself, which arrived
during Christina's visit, and excited much interest at Joinville. All
the Duchess of Guise's daughters were absent from home, the youngest,
Antoinette, having joined her sister, Abbess Renée, in the convent at
Reims, where she afterwards took the veil. But her eldest son, as we
have seen, was at Joinville on this occasion. A tall, dark-haired,
olive-skinned youth, recklessly brave and adventurous, Aumale was a
great favourite both in Court and camp, and his mother had been sadly
disappointed at the failure of the marriage negotiations, which had
cost her so much time and trouble. The Pope's daughter, Vittoria
Farnese, who was to have been his wife, had since then been offered
in turn to the Prince of Piedmont and the Duke of Vendôme, and was
eventually married to the Duke of Urbino. Aumale himself cared little
for the loss of the Italian bride, whom he had never seen, and had
hitherto shown no eagerness for matrimony, but the sight of Christina
made a deep impression upon him, and he never forgot his fair cousin's
visit to Joinville. The most friendly relations prevailed between the
two families, and frequent visits were interchanged during the winter.
Christmas was celebrated with prolonged festivities at Nancy, and on
the 6th of February the old Duke wrote from Joinville to his niece, the
Queen of Scotland:
"Your father and I have spent the last week together, and have
made great cheer with all our family. Your son, De Longueville,
is very well, and has grown a fine boy.
"Your very humble and affectionate uncle,
"ANTOINE."[333]
[Sidenote: FEB., 1542] CHRISTINA'S ANXIETIES]
In spite of these distractions, Christina found it difficult to make
her husband forget the loss of Stenay. The injustice which had been
done to the House of Lorraine still rankled in his mind, and he feared
that the Emperor would hold him responsible for the surrender of the
town, and regard it as an act of disloyalty. Christina accordingly
addressed a long letter to Granvelle, explaining that her husband had
been very reluctant to accept the French Order of St. Michel, and
had only done this at his father's express command, before there had
been any mention of surrendering Stenay. Now she feared that the King
might make some fresh demand, which would complete the destruction of
the ducal house, and could only beg the Emperor to help them with his
advice and support.
"For you may rest assured," she goes on, "that, whatever His
Majesty is pleased to command, my husband and I will obey,
although, as you know, my father-in-law is somewhat difficult
to please, and we must do his will for the present. So I beg
you earnestly to point this out to His Majesty, and ask him to
give us his advice; for since our return to Nancy my husband
has been so sad and melancholy, and so full of regret for the
great wrong which his house has suffered, that I am quite
afraid it will injure his health. Once more I beg you, Monsieur
de Granvelle, to be a good friend to us in the present, as
you have been in the past ... for we have received so much
kindness from you that I hope you will not hesitate to give us
whatever advice seems best in your eyes. As for me, I am so
much indebted to you for having helped to place me where I am,
that you and yours will always find me ready to do you service.
For I can never forget that it is to you I owe my present great
happiness."[334]
[Sidenote: JAN., 1542] KING HENRY'S WIVES]
Charles, however, wrote kindly to his niece, and refused to listen to
the unkind tongues who tried to poison his mind against her husband.
By degrees the young Duke recovered his equanimity, and devoted his
attention to beautifying the ducal palace of Nancy. In the last years
of Renée's life a Lorraine artist, Hugues de la Faye, had been employed
to paint subjects from the life of Christ at one end of the "Galerie
des Cerfs," and hunting-scenes at the other. Christina's presence gave
new impulse to the work, and the large quantity of gold-leaf and azure
supplied to the painters in the Duke's service, show how actively the
internal decoration of the palace was carried on. In one particular
instance Christina's influence is clearly to be traced. By Duke
Antoine's orders, a fresco of the Last Supper was begun by Hugues de la
Faye in the refectory of the Cordeliers, but was only completed after
this painter's death in 1542, by Crock and Chappin. These two Lorraine
artists were sent to Italy by Duke Francis soon after his accession,
and visited Milan amongst other places. Here they saw Leonardo's famous
"Cenacolo" in the refectory of S. Maria le Grazie, which was closely
connected with the Sforza Princes, and must have been very familiar
to Christina when she lived in Milan. The fresco which they executed
at Nancy is said to have been a replica of Leonardo's great work, and
kneeling figures of Antoine and Renée were introduced on the same
wall, in imitation of the portraits of Lodovico Sforza and Beatrice
d'Este which are still to be seen in the Dominican refectory at Milan.
Unfortunately, the Lorraine masters' painting suffered a still worse
fate than Leonardo's immortal work, and, after being partly spoilt by
damp, was finally destroyed thirty years ago and replaced by a modern
copy.[335]
During this winter, when Christina was happily settled in her new home
and surrounded by loyal friends and subjects, news came from England of
the trial and execution of Henry VIII.'s fifth Queen, Catherine Howard.
When the Duke and Duchess were at Fontainebleau, rumours reached the
Court that this unhappy lady, of whom Henry was deeply enamoured but
a short time before, had been suddenly banished from his presence,
and taken into custody. "Par ma foi de gentil homme!" exclaimed King
Francis when he heard the account of the Queen's misdeeds. "She has
done wondrous naughtily!"[336] But in England, as Chapuys reported,
much compassion was felt for the King's latest victim, who had dragged
down the noble house of Howard in her fall. Lord William Howard, the
late Ambassador, was hastily recalled from France, and sent to the
Tower with his mother, the old Duchess of Norfolk. The King himself,
wrote Chapuys, felt the case more than that of any of his other wives,
just as the woman who had lost ten husbands grieved more for the tenth
when he died than for any of the other nine! But when the luckless
Queen was beheaded, Henry recovered his spirits, and spent Carnival in
feasting and entertaining ladies with a gaiety which made people think
that he meant to marry again. "But few, if any, ladies of the Court,"
remarked Chapuys, "now aspire to the honour of becoming one of the
King's wives."[337]
It was an honour to which Christina herself had never aspired. One
day at the Court of Nancy, conversation turned on the King of England,
and some indiscreet lady asked the Duchess why she had rejected this
monarch's suit. A smile broke over Christina's face, and the old
dimples rose to her cheeks as she replied that, unfortunately, she only
had one head, but that if she had possessed two, one might have been at
His Majesty's disposal. It was a characteristic speech, and has passed
into history.[338]
III.
[Sidenote: MAY, 1542] THE KING'S CHASE]
All through the winter of 1541-42 preparations for war were actively
carried on in France, and intrigue was rife among the Courts of Europe.
Francis was determined to profit by his rival's misfortunes, in spite
of the remonstrances of the Pope and of the deputies who were sent by
the Imperial Diet to adjure him not to trouble the peace of Christendom
while the Emperor was fighting against the Turks. By the end of the
year he succeeded in forming a strong coalition, which included
Scotland, Denmark, Sweden, and Cleves. The Palatine Frederic had once
more pressed his wife's claims to the three kingdoms, with the result
that Christian III. lent a willing ear to the French King's advances,
and sent Envoys to Fontainebleau, where a secret treaty between
France and Denmark was signed a few days after the Duke and Duchess
of Lorraine had left Court. Francis was now exceedingly anxious to
draw Lorraine into the league and induce Duke Antoine to take up arms
against the Emperor. In May he set out on a progress through Burgundy
and Champagne, taking the Queen and all the Court with him, to inspect
the fortifications of the eastern frontier and enjoy some hunting on
the way. "Tell the Pope," he said merrily to the Legate Ardinghelli,
"that I do nothing but make good cheer and amuse myself, whether I
entertain fair ladies or go a-hunting the deer." Paget and the other
Ambassadors complained bitterly of the bad quarters "in peevish
villages" which they had to put up with as they followed the King
from place to place, wherever "great harts were to be heard of."[339]
Fortunately, he found excellent sport at the Duke of Guise's château of
Esclaron, where he spent three weeks, and declared that he had never
been so happy in his life.
"The King," wrote Duchess Antoinette to Mary of Scotland, "has
found so many big stags here that he says he was never in a
place which pleased him better, and that in spite of torrents
of rain and God knows what mud! And you cannot think how fond
he is of your father."[340]
She herself went to Esclaron to receive her royal guest, taking the
eight-year-old Duke of Longueville with her, to make his bow to the
King and be petted by Queen Eleanor and her ladies. But the life of
a Court lady, as she told her daughter, was little to her taste,
and she returned to Joinville early in June, to keep the Fête-Dieu
and prepare her husband's and sons' equipment for the war which was
expected to begin immediately. Two days later, on the 10th of June,
the Duke and Duchess of Bar paid the French King a visit at Esclaron,
and were present at the reception of the Swedish Ambassadors, whom
Gustavus Wasa had sent to sign the new treaty. The ceremony took place
in a large barn hung with tapestries and wreathed with green boughs.
The King and his guests sat on a raised daïs, draped with cloth of
gold, under a canopy, while the Princes of the blood and the other
courtiers, among whom were no less than six Cardinals, stood below.
Here Francis listened patiently to a long Latin harangue from the
Swedish Ambassador, and then, coming down from his seat, he mingled
freely in the crowd of Cardinals and Princes, gentlemen and yeomen, who
stood "all in a heap" at the doors of the barn, and showed himself very
affable, although, in Paget's opinion, "his manner lacked the majesty
which he had noticed in his own master on similar occasions."[341]
[Sidenote: JUNE, 1542] THE FRENCH INVASION]
Christina looked with curiosity at these Envoys from the Northern
kingdom over which her father had once ruled, many of whom had known
the captive monarch in old days. This time she and her husband had no
cause to complain of the King's treatment. He was all courtesy and
smiles, and assured them in the most cordial terms of the singular
affection which he bore to all their house. But he soon saw that there
was no prospect of inducing Antoine and his son to join him against
Christina's uncle, and on the 12th of June he consented to sign an
agreement by which he promised to respect the neutrality of Lorraine
and the properties of the Duke's subjects.[342] After spending another
week at Joinville, enjoying the splendid hospitality of the Guises, he
left Eleanor with the Duchess, and went on to Ligny, a strong fortress
on the borders of Luxembourg, where he gave orders for the opening of
the campaign.
By the middle of July four separate armies had invaded the Emperor's
dominions. Guise and Orléans fell upon Luxembourg, Vendôme entered
Flanders, the Dauphin attacked Roussillon, and the forces of Cleves,
under the redoubtable Guelders captain, Martin van Rossem, laid Brabant
waste with fire and sword. But they met with determined opposition in
every quarter, and the heroism of the Regent and her captains saved the
Netherlands from ruin.
"The attack," wrote De Praet to Charles on September 21, 1542,
"was so secretly planned and so well carried out that it is a
miracle Your Majesty did not lose your Pays-Bas. We must thank
God first of all, and next to Him the Queen, to whose extreme
care, toil, and diligence, this is owing."[343]
Fortunately for the Imperialists, Francis's extravagance had emptied
his treasury. All his money, as Paget reported, was spent in building
new palaces and buying jewels for himself and his favourites. Stenay
and other places had been fortified at vast expense, and by the end of
the year most of the French forces were disbanded for lack of funds.
It was a sad autumn at Joinville, where the good Duchess wept and
prayed for her absent lord and sons, and sighed to think they were
fighting against her daughter Louise's husband and father-in-law. In
September Guise was invalided home, and he was hardly fit to mount his
horse again when the parents received the news of Louise's death, which
took place at Brussels on the 18th of October. The charming Princess
had always been a delicate girl, and now she died without leaving a
child to comfort the husband and father who had loved her so well. This
sad event was followed by tidings of the disaster which had befallen
the King of Scotland's army in Solway Moss, and of his death on the
18th of December. Antoinette's heart bled for her widowed daughter,
who had just given birth to an infant Princess at Linlithgow. "It came
with a lass, and it will go with a lass," were the words of the King
when he was told of the child's birth, a few days before he died at
Falkland Palace. Both Guise and Aumale would gladly have hastened to
Mary's help, but it was impossible for them to leave the camp at this
critical moment, and Antoinette could only beg her daughter to keep up
her courage and trust in God, "the Almighty, who would defend her and
the poor little Queen, who although so young is already exposed to the
insults of her enemies."[344]
[Sidenote: JAN., 1543] BIRTH OF A SON]
It was a no less anxious time for Christina in her home at Nancy.
From the palace roof the smoke of burning villages was to be seen in
all directions, and the people of Lorraine were exposed to frequent
raids from the hordes of irregular soldiers in both armies, and were
compelled to raise trained bands for the defence of the frontiers. It
was only by the strictest observance of the laws of neutrality that
an outbreak of actual hostilities could be avoided. When Aumale was
badly wounded by a shot from a crossbow in the siege of Luxembourg,
his uncle the Duke sternly refused to have him carried into his
neighbouring castle of Longwy; and when Mary of Hungary proposed to
garrison this fortress to protect his subjects from French aggression,
he declined her offer firmly at the risk of incurring the imperial
displeasure.[345] Christina herself spent Christmas at Fontainebleau
with her aunt, Queen Eleanor. This poor lady was distracted with grief
at the war between her husband and brother, and spent much time in
making futile attempts to induce her sister, the Regent, to listen
to peace negotiations. Early in December, while the King was hunting
at Cognac, she sent a gorgeous litter to Bar to bring the Duchess to
Court, and kept her there till the middle of January.[346] A month
afterwards--on the 13th of February--Christina gave birth to her first
child, a son, who received the name of Charles, after her imperial
uncle. There was great rejoicing in Nancy, where the happy event took
place, and the old Duke himself went to Pont-à-Mousson to bear the
good news to the venerable Queen Philippa, who thanked God that she
had lived to see her great-grandson. The little Prince's christening
was celebrated with as much festivity as the troubled state of the
country would allow, and Christina's faithful friend, the Princess of
Macedonia, who had followed her to Lorraine, held the child at the font
and was appointed his governess.[347]
[Sidenote: NOV., 1543] DUKE ANTOINE MEDIATES]
Two days before the Prince's birth a secret treaty between the Emperor
and King Henry was concluded at Whitehall. Chapuys had at length
attained the object of his untiring efforts, and De Courrières was sent
from Spain on a confidential mission to induce Henry to declare war
against France. The defeat of the Duke of Aerschot at Sittard excited
general alarm in Flanders, and Mary was at her wits' end for money
and men. But the Emperor himself was hastening across the Alps to the
help of his loyal provinces. The marriage of his son Philip with the
Infanta of Portugal had been finally settled, and with the help of
this Princess's large dowry and another half-million of Mexican gold,
Charles was able to raise a large army of German and Italian troops.
On the 22nd of August he appeared in person before Düren, the capital
of Cleves, which surrendered within a week. The Duke threw himself
on the victor's mercy, and was pardoned and invested anew with his
hereditary duchies, while Guelders was annexed to the Netherlands and
the Prince of Orange became its first Governor. William of Cleves on
his part renounced the French alliance, and agreed to marry one of
King Ferdinand's daughters. His previous marriage with Jeanne d'Albret
was annulled by the Pope, and this resolute young Princess had the
satisfaction of carrying her protest into effect. Encouraged by these
successes, Charles now laid siege to Landrécy, the capital of Hainault,
which had been captured and fortified by the French, and was joined by
a gallant company of English under Lord Surrey and Sir John Wallop.
"Par ma foi!" exclaimed the Emperor, as he rode down their ranks, "this
is a fine body of gentlemen! If the French King comes, I will live
and die with the English."[348] But Francis refused to be drawn into
a battle, and the approach of winter made both armies retire from the
field.
The Duke of Lorraine took advantage of this temporary lull to mediate
between the two monarchs. Old as he was, and suffering severely with
gout, Antoine came to the Prince of Chimay's house with his son
Francis, and begged for an audience with the Emperor and Regent, who
were spending a few days at Valenciennes, on their way to Brussels.
Charles sent him word not to come into his presence if he brought
offers from the French King; but in spite of these peremptory orders
the two Dukes arrived in the town on Sunday, the 17th of November,
and were received by the Emperor after dinner. Antoine delivered a
long oration begging His Imperial Majesty to make peace for the sake
of Christendom, and, laying his hand on his breast, swore that he had
taken this step of his own free will, without communicating with any
other person. The old man's earnestness touched Charles, who answered
kindly, saying that he was always welcome as a cousin and a neighbour,
and that this was doubly the case now that his son had married the
Emperor's dearly loved niece. But he told him frankly that he had been
too often deluded by false promises to listen to French proposals for
peace, and that in any case he could do nothing without the consent
of his ally, the King of England. Nothing daunted, the old Duke went
on to visit the Regent, and was found by Lord Surrey and the English
Ambassador Brian sitting at a table before a fire in the Queen's room,
playing at cards. Antoine greeted Brian as an old friend, and asked him
to drink with him. But Mary sternly refused to listen to the Duke's
errand, being convinced that he came from the King, and declaring that
all the gentlemen in his suite were good Frenchmen. When he and his son
were gone, she called Brian to her, and said: "Monsieur l'Ambassadeur,
heard you ever so lean a message?" "Madame," replied the Englishman,
"if the broth be no fatter, it is not worth the supping," a sentiment
which provoked a hearty laugh from the Queen.[349]
[Sidenote: MAY, 1544] EGMONT'S WEDDING]
Neither Queen Eleanor, who sent an entreating letter with a present
of falcons to her sister, nor Cardinal Farnese, who brought fresh
proposals of peace from the Pope, fared any better. The young Duchess
Christina now determined to make an attempt herself, and came to
meet her uncle at Spires when he attended the Diet. The ostensible
reason of this journey was to visit her sister Dorothea, but Charles,
divining her intention, sent the Countess Palatine word that if the
Duchess of Bar brought proposals of peace she might as well stay at
home. Christina, however, arrived at Spires on the 8th of February,
with a train of fourteen ladies and fifteen horse, and spent a week
with the Count and Countess Palatine. The sisters saw the Emperor
and King Ferdinand every day, and were to all appearance on the most
affectionate terms with them. But nothing transpired as to what passed
between Christina and her uncle in private. On the day that she left
Spires to return to Nancy, Frederic heard of the death of his brother,
the Elector Palatine, and hastened to Heidelberg with Dorothea to
attend his funeral and take possession of the rich Rhineland, to which
he now succeeded. Six weeks later he returned to do homage for the
Palatinate, and assist at the wedding of his cousin Sabina with Lamoral
d'Egmont, the hero of so many hard-fought fields. The Emperor gave a
sumptuous banquet in honour of his gallant brother-at-arms, Dorothea
led the bride to church, and Frederic, in a fit of generosity, settled
14,000 florins on his young kinswoman.[350]
In this same month Ambassadors arrived at Spires from Christian III.
of Denmark, who had quarrelled with the French King and was anxious to
make peace with the Emperor. In spite of a protest from the Palatine,
a treaty was concluded on the 23rd of May, by which Charles recognized
the reigning monarch's title to the crown. So the long war, which had
lasted twenty-one years, was at length ended, and the Emperor finally
abandoned the cause of Christian II. But a clause was added by which
his daughters' rights were reserved, and a promise given that the
severity of his captivity should be relaxed and that he should be
allowed to hunt and fish in the park at Sonderburg. Christian III.
gladly agreed to these more humane conditions, and even offered to give
Dorothea and Christina a substantial dowry, but the Palatine refused to
accept any terms, and persisted in asserting his wife's claims.[351]
IV.
[Sidenote: JUNE, 1544] CHARLES V. IN LORRAINE]
Soon after her return from Spires, on the 20th of April, 1544,
Christina gave birth, at Nancy, to a daughter, who was named Renée,
after the late Duchess. But her happiness was clouded by the illness
of her husband, whose health had become a cause of grave anxiety.
Fighting was renewed with fresh vigour in the spring, and unexpected
success attended the imperial arms. Luxembourg was recovered by
Ferrante Gonzaga, and the French invaders were expelled from most
of the strongholds which they held in this province. The war raged
fiercely on the borders of Lorraine, and the annoyance to which his
subjects were exposed, induced Duke Antoine to make another effort
at mediation. Since the Emperor turned a deaf ear to all appeals, he
decided to apply to King Francis in person, and on the 8th of May he
set out in a litter for the French Court; but when he reached Bar he
was too ill to go any farther, and took to his bed in this ancient
castle of his ancestors. His sons hastened to join him, and Christina
followed them as soon as she was able to travel, and arrived in time
to be present at her father-in-law's death-bed. The fine old man made
his will, appointed his brothers, the Duke of Guise and the Cardinal,
to be his executors, and with his last breath begged his son to rule
Lorraine wisely and raise as few extraordinary taxes as possible.
Above all, he adjured him to preserve his people from the scourge of
war, and use every endeavour to obtain the restoration of peace. With
these words on his lips, he passed away on the 19th of June, 1544.[352]
The new Duke was as anxious for peace as his father, but the moment
was unpropitious for any efforts in this direction. King Henry had at
length taken the field and invaded Picardy with a large army, and the
Emperor was bent on carrying the war into the heart of France, and
urged his ally to meet him under the walls of Paris. On the 17th of
June Charles himself came to Metz with Maurice of Saxony and the young
Marquis Albert of Brandenburg, the boldest warrior in Germany, and
prepared plans for the extension of the campaign which Ferrante Gonzaga
and the Prince of Orange were carrying on in Champagne. Here Francis
of Lorraine joined him as soon as he was able to mount a horse, and,
after spending some days at Metz, induced the Emperor to accompany him
to Nassau-le-Grand, where Christina was awaiting him.[353] On his way
Charles stopped at Pont-à-Mousson, and paid a visit to Queen Philippa,
the sister of his old enemy Charles of Guelders, for whom he had always
entertained a genuine regard, and who was proud to welcome the great
Emperor under her convent roof. Since the death of the Empress, five
years before, Charles had formed a fixed resolution to end his days in
some cloistered retreat, and he looked with admiration, not unmixed
with envy, on the aged Queen's peaceful home, and the garden where she
hoed and raked the borders and planted flowers with her own hands. It
was a memorable day in the convent annals, and one which left pleasant
recollections in the Emperor's breast.[354]
But although Charles was full of affection for Christina and her
husband, he declined to receive the Cardinal of Lorraine, who begged
for an interview, and during his brief visit not a word was spoken
with regard to overtures of peace.[355] On the 12th of July he took
leave of the Duke and Duchess, and joined the Prince of Orange's camp
before St. Dizier. This town was strongly fortified, but René had taken
up his position near a bridge across the Marne, and opened fire from
a battery of guns placed in the dry bed of the castle moat. Charles
himself visited the trenches on the day of his arrival, and early the
next morning the Prince of Orange walked round to inspect the artillery
with Ferrante Gonzaga. The Marquis of Marignano was sitting in a chair,
which had been brought there for the Emperor's use the day before,
and, seeing the Prince, sprang to his feet and offered him his seat.
Compliments were exchanged on both sides, and the Prince finally sat
down in the empty chair. He had hardly taken his seat before he was
struck by a shell which, passing between the Viceroy and the Marquis,
broke one of his ribs, and shattered his shoulder to pieces. They bore
his unconscious form to the Emperor's tent, where he lay between life
and death for the next forty-eight hours. The whole camp was filled
with consternation.
"I doubt yet what will become of him," wrote Wotton, who had
followed Charles to the camp. "If he should die of it, it were
an inestimable loss to the Emperor, so toward a gentleman he
is, so well beloved, and of such authority among men of war."
Before the writer had finished his letter, a servant came in to tell
him that the Prince was gone.[356]
[Sidenote: JULY, 1544] DEATH OF RENÉ]
A Spanish officer on the spot wrote a touching account of the Prince's
last moments. From the first the doctors gave little hope, and when
the Emperor heard of René's critical state he hastened to the wounded
hero's bedside, and knelt down, holding his hand in his own. The
Prince knew him, and begged him as a last favour to confirm the will
which he had made a month before, and take his young cousin and heir,
William of Nassau, under his protection. Charles promised to do all in
his power for the boy, and, with tears streaming down his face, kissed
the Prince's cheek before he passed away.
"His Majesty the Emperor," continued the same writer, "saw him
die, and after that retired to his chamber, where he remained
some time alone without seeing anyone, and showed how much he
loved him. The grief of the whole army and of the Court are so
great that no words of mine can describe it."[357]
[Sidenote: AUG., 1544] LA SQUELETTE DE BAR]
From all sides the same bitter wail was heard. There was sorrow in the
ancient home at Bar, where René's marriage had been celebrated with
great rejoicing four years before. The Duke and Duchess wept for their
gallant brother-in-law, and Christina thought, with tender regret, of
the hero who in youthful days had seemed to her a very perfect knight.
The sad news was sent to De Courrières at the English camp before
Boulogne, by his Lieutenant of Archers, and the veteran shed tears
over the gallant Prince whom he had often followed to victory. Great
was the lamentation at Brussels when the truth became known. Nothing
but weeping was heard in the streets, and Queen Mary retired to the
Abbey of Groenendal to mourn for the loss which the Netherlands had
sustained by René's untimely death.[358] In his own city of Breda the
sorrow was deeper still. There his faithful wife, Anne of Lorraine, was
waiting anxiously for news from the battle-field. Her father had died
a few weeks before, and now her lord was torn from her in the flower
of his age, and she was left a childless widow. Early in the year
she had given birth to a daughter, who was christened on the 25th of
February, and called Mary, after her godmother, the Queen of Hungary,
but who died before she was a month old. Now report said that she was
about to become a mother for the second time, but her hopes were once
more doomed to disappointment. By René's last will, his titles and
the greater part of his vast estates passed to his cousin William of
Nassau, a boy of eleven, while a large jointure and the rich lands of
Diest were left to Anne for her life.[359] The Prince's corpse, clad
in the robes of a knight of the Golden Fleece, was borne to Breda,
and buried with his forefathers; but his heart was enshrined in the
Collegiate Church of Bar, among the tombs which held the ashes of his
wife's ancestors. On his death-bed René had expressed a wish that a
representation of his face and form, not as he was in life, but as
they would appear two years after death, should be carved on his tomb.
This strange wish was faithfully carried out by Anne of Lorraine, who
employed Ligier-Richier, the gifted Lorraine sculptor, to carve a
skeleton with upraised hand clasping the golden casket which contained
the dead hero's heart. The figure, carved in fine stone of ivory
whiteness, was, as it were, a literal rendering of the words, "Though
after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see
God." At the Revolution, the Collegiate Church of Bar, with the chapel
of the Lorraine Princes, which Montaigne called the most sumptuous
in France, was entirely destroyed; but René's monument was saved and
placed in the Church of St. Étienne, where it is commonly known as "La
Squelette de Bar."[360]
The memory of this popular Prince lingered long in the land of his
birth, and his fame lived in the songs of Flanders and Holland for many
generations. One of the best known begins with the lines:
"C'est le Prince d'Orange,
Trop matin s'est levé,
Il appela son page,
Mon Maure, est-il bridé?
Que maudit soit la guerre--
Mon Maure, est-il bridé?"[361]
And so the story goes on through many stanzas, which tell how, in spite
of his wife's dark forebodings, the hero rode out to the wars to fight
against the French, how he met with his fatal wound, and never came
home again.
V.
[Sidenote: AUG., 1544] THE DUKE'S ILLNESS]
The Prince's death threw a gloom over the imperial camp, but did not
diminish the warlike ardour of his battalions, who swore with one
voice that they would avenge their leader. On the 17th of August St.
Dizier at length surrendered. "A right dear-bought town," wrote Wotton,
"considering the number of men lost in the assault, and chiefly the
inestimable loss of that noble Prince." Ferrante immediately sent a
troop of light horse, with Francesco d'Este at their head, against
Joinville, the splendid home of the Guises, although, as Wotton
remarked, this was rather a house of pleasure than a stronghold. The
castle was spared by order of the Emperor for the sake of his niece
Christina, who begged him not to add to the Princess of Orange's
grief by destroying her uncle's house; but the town and churches were
sacked and set on fire, and the beautiful gardens, with their fine
water-shows and temples, were destroyed.[362] The news was received
with consternation in Paris, where Antoinette and her grandson had
taken refuge, and the Duchess's brother, Cardinal Bourbon, wrote to the
Scottish Queen telling her of the report that the enemy had burnt down
Joinville, which had fortunately proved to be false. "The destruction
of such a beautiful house," he adds, "would indeed have been sad."[363]
This calamity had been averted by Christina, but, in their anger at
the damage done by the imperial troops, the Guise Princes hardly
remembered the debt that they owed her. The King was furious, and in
the first burst of his indignation sent the Duke of Lorraine a message,
threatening to destroy him and all his house. The Duke now determined
to go to the French Court to defend himself from these charges and see
if it were possible to make proposals of peace in this quarter. The
Emperor's rapid advance had excited great alarm in Paris. Even the King
awoke to a sense of danger, and said to Margaret of Navarre, the sister
to whom he turned in all his worst troubles, "_Ma mignonne_, pray God
to spare me the disgrace of seeing the Emperor encamped before my city
of Paris." Queen Eleanor, in her distress, sent a Dominican friar in
whom she had great confidence--Don Gabriel de Guzman--to implore
her brother to hear her prayers. But Charles was still obdurate. He
received Francis of Lorraine in the camp after the Prince of Orange's
death, but when he heard that his nephew was going to the French Court,
he sent Montbardon to beg the Duchess, "as she loved him," not to let
her husband go to France so soon after he had seen him, lest people
should think that he was sent by the Emperor to treat of peace.
Christina replied in a letter written, as Wotton remarked, in her
own hand, telling her uncle that she had sent a servant post-haste
to overtake her husband, but that he was already at Châlons, and had
gone too far to retrace his steps. In spite of this manful attempt,
the Duke never reached Paris; he fell from his horse in a fainting fit
at Épernay, and was brought back in a litter to Bar, where Christina
nursed him for several weeks.[364] His efforts, however, proved
more effectual than he had expected. The Emperor's precautions were
necessary owing to the jealousy with which the English King regarded
every proposal of peace on the part of his ally, but in reality Charles
was almost as eager as Francis to put an end to the war. His resources
were exhausted, the plague was raging in Luxembourg and Flanders, and
he realized the danger of advancing into the enemy's country with the
Dauphin's army in his rear, while his hopes of the English march on
Paris had been disappointed by Henry's delays before Montreuil and
Boulogne. Under these circumstances he felt that he could no longer
refuse to treat with his foes. On the 29th of August, a week after the
Duke had started on his unfortunate journey, Admiral l'Annebaut and
the French Chancellor were admitted into the Emperor's presence, in
the camp near Châlons, and conferences were opened between them and
Granvelle, with the happy result that on the 19th of September peace
was signed at Crépy-en-Laonnois.
[Sidenote: SEPT., 1544] DUKE ANTOINE'S FUNERAL]
By this treaty the Duke of Orleans was to be given either the Emperor's
daughter in marriage, with the reversion of the Netherlands as her
dower, or else one of his Austrian nieces with the immediate possession
of Milan. In return Francis was to renounce his claims on Naples and
Artois, restore the Duke of Savoy's dominions, and endow his son with
large estates and revenues. All the towns and fortresses which had been
captured during the recent war were to be restored, including Stenay,
which, as Charles pointed out, the King of France "had seized in the
strangest manner, and held by force without paying homage, although
it is notoriously a fief of the empire."[365] As soon as peace was
signed, Granvelle's son, the young Bishop of Arras, was sent to ask the
English King to become a party to the treaty; but Henry, who had just
taken Boulogne after a long siege, quite refused, and professed great
surprise to hear that the Emperor had agreed to terms which seemed to
him more befitting the vanquished than the victor. On the other hand,
a strong party at the French Court complained that the rights of the
Crown were sacrificed to the personal aggrandisement of Orleans, and
on the 12th of December the Dauphin signed a secret protest against
the treaty, which was witnessed by Vendôme and Aumale.[366] But in
the provinces where war had been waging, peace was welcomed with
thankfulness, and the ruler and people of Lorraine could once more
breathe freely.
The Duke of Lorraine was now able to convey his father's body from the
Castle of Bar, where he had died, to Nancy. On the 15th of September he
and his brother set out at the head of the funeral procession, along
roads lined with crowds of people weeping for the good Duke who had
ruled the land so well. But since it was impossible for the Duke of
Guise and his family to come to Nancy at present, the last rites were
put off till the following year, and the old Duke's remains were left
to repose for the time in the Church of St. Georges.[367] Little dreamt
these loyal subjects that before the year was over the young Duke, on
whom their hopes were fixed, would himself be numbered with the dead,
and lie buried in his father's grave. But for the moment all was well.
The return of peace was hailed with rejoicing, and the restitution
of Stenay removed a blot from the scutcheon of Lorraine, while the
independence of the duchy was confirmed by a decree of the Diet of
Nuremberg, to which the Emperor gave his sanction.[368]
The Duke and Duchess received a pressing invitation to join in the
festivities that were held at Brussels to celebrate the peace. Charles
and Mary arrived there on the 1st of October, and were shortly
followed by Queen Eleanor, bringing in her train the Duke of Orleans
and the Duchess of Étampes, who had used all her influence with the
King to bring about peace, chiefly from jealousy of the Dauphin and
his mistress, Diane de Poitiers. The burghers of Brussels gave the
imperial family a magnificent entertainment at the hôtel-de-ville,
and presented Eleanor with a golden fountain of exquisite shape and
workmanship; while the Emperor lavished costly presents on his guests,
and gave the Queen of Hungary the fine domains of Binche and Turnhout
in gratitude for her services. Unfortunately, Christina was detained at
Nancy by a return of her husband's illness, and did not reach Brussels
till the 4th of November. By this time Eleanor had set out on her
return, and Christina, eager to see her aunt, followed her to Mons,
and spent two days in her company. On the 7th the Duchess came back to
Brussels with her brother-in-law, Nicolas de Vaudemont, and remained
with her uncle and aunt during a fortnight. It was her first visit
to Brussels since her wedding, more than three years before, and old
friends and faces welcomed her on all sides. But one familiar figure
was missing, and she found a melancholy pleasure in the company of her
sister-in-law, the widowed Princess of Orange, whom she saw for the
first time since her gallant husband's death. Charles treated his niece
with marked kindness, and gave her a superb necklace of pearls and
diamonds as a parting present.[369]
[Sidenote: FEB., 1545] PEACE AND PROSPERITY]
The winter was spent happily at Nancy, where the new Duke and Duchess
made themselves popular with all classes. Francis gave free rein to
his love of art and letters, and encouraged scholars and artists
by his enlightened patronage. He took passionate delight in music,
and was never happier than when he could surround himself with the
best singers and players on the lute and viol. Christina shared his
artistic tastes, and was greatly interested in the improvements of the
ducal palace. Together they made plans for the decoration of its halls
and gardens, and for the construction of new buildings and churches
in different parts of Lorraine, while the Court painters, Crock and
Chappin, were sent to Italy to collect antiques and study the best
examples of art and architecture.[370] At the same time Christina took
deep interest in the condition of her humbler subjects, and tried to
relieve distress by founding charitable institutions on the pattern of
those in Flanders. A new period of peace and prosperity seemed to have
dawned on Lorraine, and everything promised a long and happy reign.
By the end of the year the Duke and Duchess of Guise returned to
Joinville, and were actively engaged throughout the winter in
rebuilding the ruined town and repairing the damage done by the
imperial soldiery. Old quarrels between the two houses were forgotten,
and friendly intercourse was renewed. In February the Duke and
Duchess of Lorraine were present in the chapel of Joinville, at the
consecration of Guise's son Charles, as Archbishop of Reims, and in
March the Cardinal of Lorraine came to Nancy to discharge the duties
of executor to the late Duke. Antoine had provided liberally for all
his children. Nicolas de Vaudemont, his younger son, received a sum of
15,000 crowns, and Christina gave her brother-in-law a handsome present
of furniture, to help him in setting up house. Some lordships near
Joinville were left to the Duke of Guise, and everything was amicably
arranged.[371]
[Sidenote: JUNE, 1545] FRANCIS'S DEATH]
Suddenly the Duke fell ill for the third time, and during several
days his life was in danger. Wotton was convinced that he had been
poisoned by his French enemies, and so alarming were the reports
which reached Brussels, that the Emperor wrote privately to his new
Ambassador in Paris, Granvelle's brother-in-law, St. Mauris, begging
him to keep a watchful eye on the affairs of Lorraine, lest Guise and
the Cardinal should take advantage of their nephew's condition to
seize his domains. But this time Francis recovered once more, and was
able to make his solemn entry into Nancy on the 16th of April. At the
Porte St. Nicolas he was met by the three orders--the nobles, clergy,
and people--and walked on foot, with Nicolas de Vaudemont at his side,
followed by his Ministers, to the Church of St. Georges. Here, kneeling
at the high-altar, he kissed the relic of the True Cross, and took a
solemn oath to respect the privileges of the people of Lorraine and
the liberties of the city of Nancy. After this a _Te Deum_ was chanted
and a banquet held in the ducal palace.[372] The next week, by the
advice of his doctors, Antoine Champier and Nicolas le Pois, he went
to Blamont, in the hope that the invigorating air of the hills might
complete his cure; but he grew weaker every day, and was subject to
frequent fainting fits of an alarming nature. In her anxiety, Christina
sent to Strasburg and Fribourg for well-known physicians, and Mary
of Hungary despatched her own doctor to Nancy, and consulted eminent
doctors in London and Paris on the patient's symptoms.[373] But all
was of no avail, and as a last resource the Duke was carried in a
litter to Remiremont, his favourite shooting-lodge in the heart of
the Vosges. It was the end of May, and the beautiful woods along the
mountain slopes were in the first glory of their spring foliage. For a
moment it seemed as if his delight in the beauty of the place and the
life-giving influence of sunshine and mountain air would restore him to
health. But already the hand of Death was upon him. On the Fête-Dieu he
became much worse, and his end was evidently near; but he was perfectly
conscious, and, sending for a notary, he made his last will, appointing
his wife Regent of the State and guardian of her little son and
daughter, and commending her and his children to the Emperor's care.
After this he received the last Sacraments, and passed quietly away on
Friday, the 12th of June. He was not yet twenty-eight, and had reigned
exactly one year.[374] Death had once more severed the marriage tie,
and Christina, who but lately called herself the happiest woman in the
world, was left stricken and desolate, a widow for the second time, at
the age of twenty-three.
FOOTNOTES:
[317] Abbé Calmet, "Histoire Ecclésiastique et Civile de Lorraine," i.
190.
[318] Hugo, 196, 200.
[319] Calmet, iii. 325; A. Hallays, "Nancy" ("Villes Célèbres"), 31.
[320] Calmet, i. 176; Hugo, 244; "Inventaire de Joinville," i. 378.
[321] H. Lepage, "Le Palais Ducal de Nancy," 10; C. Pfister, ii. 29;
"La Ville de Nancy," 65.
[322] Pfister, ii. 26; A. Hallays, "Nancy," 37-39.
[323] Lepage, "Palais Ducal," 3; Pfister, ii. 188.
[324] Balcarres Manuscripts, ii. 17.
[325] Balcarres Manuscripts, ii. 84.
[326] _Ibid._, ii. 20.
[327] Kaulek, 54.
[328] F. v. Bucholtz, "Geschichte d. Kaiser Ferdinand I.," ix. 141.
[329] Granvelle, "Papiers d'État," ii. 618; Bucholtz, ix. 141.
[330] State Papers, Record Office, viii. 639, 644, 655
[331] Calendar of Spanish State Papers, vi. 1, 436; Calendar of State
Papers, xvi. 1, 690.
[332] Balcarres Manuscripts, ii. 3, 6.
[333] Balcarres Manuscripts, ii. 85.
[334] Bucholtz, ix. 142.
[335] H. Lepage, "Le Palais Ducal de Nancy," 9; Pfister, ii. 256.
[336] State Papers, Record Office, viii. 636.
[337] Calendar of Spanish State Papers, vi. 1, 473; Calendar of State
Papers, xvi. 2, 51.
[338] The authenticity of this well-known saying has been often
disputed, and was certainly never addressed by the Duchess to either
of Henry VIII.'s Ambassadors. But Christina's words were recorded by
Joachim Sandrart, who wrote in the seventeenth century, as having been
spoken by a Princess of Lorraine, whom the English King had wooed in
vain, and were afterwards quoted by Horace Walpole "as the witty answer
of that Duchess of Milan whose portrait Holbein painted for Henry
VIII." (see Wornum's "Life of Holbein," 311; J. Sandrart, "Deutsche
Akademie"; and Walpole's "Anecdotes of Painting").
[339] State Papers, Record Office, viii. 641; Calendar of State Papers,
xvii. 711.
[340] Balcarres Manuscripts, ii. 12.
[341] Calendar of State Papers, xvii. 232.
[342] Granvelle, "Papiers d'État," ii. 628; Calendar of State Papers,
xvii. 273.
[343] Lanz, ii. 364.
[344] Balcarres Manuscripts, ii. 13.
[345] Pimodan, 81; Bouillé, i. 142.
[346] Calendar of Spanish State Papers, vi. 2, 262.
[347] Calmet, i. 265; Pfister, ii. 200.
[348] Calendar of State Papers, Record Office, ix. 522.
[349] Calendar of State Papers, xviii. 2, 216; State Papers, Record
Office, ix. 557; Bucholtz, ix. 263.
[350] Altmeyer, "Relations," etc., 476; Gachard, "Voyages de Charles
V.," ii. 285.
[351] Schäfer, iv. 462; Calendar of State Papers, xix. 1, 349.
[352] Calmet, ii. 1196; Pfister, ii. 192.
[353] Gachard, "Voyages," ii. 289; Calendar of State Papers, Record
Office, ix. 724.
[354] Calendar of State Papers, xix. 1, 564.
[355] Calendar of State Papers, Record Office, x. 43.
[356] State Papers, Record Office, ix. 733.
[357] Calendar of Spanish State Papers, vii. 267.
[358] Calendar of State Papers, xix. 1, 608; Calendar of Spanish State
Papers, vii. 280.
[359] Calendar of State Papers, xix. 1, 71; Groen v. Prinsterer,
"Archives de la Maison d'Orange," i. 1.
[360] C. Cournault, "Ligier-Richier," 28.
[361] R. Putnam, "William the Silent, Prince of Orange," ii. 435.
[362] Bouillé, ii. 148; Pimodan, 183; Oudin, "Histoire des Guises,"
Bib. Nat., f. 118; Calendar of State Papers, Record Office, x. 6, 43.
[363] Calendar of State Papers, xix. 2, 63.
[364] Calendar of Spanish State Papers, vii. 296-298.
[365] Calendar of Spanish State Papers, vii. 305.
[366] _Ibid._, vii. 1, 350, 355.
[367] Calmet, ii. 1196; Pfister, ii. 192.
[368] Calmet, ii. 1281; Ravold, 744; Pfister, ii. 188; Calendar of
Spanish State Papers, vi. 2, 262.
[369] Henne, viii. 212-215; T. Juste, "Marie de Hongrie," 120; Calendar
of State Papers, xix. 2, 340.
[370] Pfister, ii. 256; H. Lepage, "La Ville de Nancy," 65.
[371] Calendar of Spanish State Papers, viii. 102; Bouillé, i. 244.
[372] Calendar of Spanish State Papers, viii. 195; Pfister, ii. 192;
Granvelle, "Papiers d'État," iii. 110.
[373] Ravold, iii. 764; Calmet, ii. 1276.
[374] Pfister, ii. 192.