BOOK IX

CHRISTINA, REGENT OF LORRAINE

1545-1552

I.

[Sidenote: JUNE, 1545] VAUDEMONT'S CLAIMS]

The premature death of her husband left Christina in a position of

exceptional difficulty. Everything combined to add to her distress. She

herself was in delicate health, expecting the birth of another child in

a few weeks, her only son was an infant of two years and a half, and

she had not a single near relative or tried Minister to give her the

help of his counsel and experience. The Duke had appointed her Regent

of Lorraine during his son's minority, but even before he breathed

his last, her claims to this office were disputed. Although Christina

herself was popular with all classes of her son's subjects, there was

a strong party in Lorraine which dreaded the influence of her powerful

uncle. At the head of this party was the Rhinegrave, Jean de Salm, an

able nobleman who had always been French in his sympathies, and who

now seized the opportunity of the Duke's last illness to advance the

claims of Monsieur de Metz, seeing that this young Prince would be an

easy tool in his hands. At ten o'clock on the Fête-Dieu, when the Duke

had received the last Sacraments, the Count de Salm entered his room

with Nicolas de Vaudemont, and thus addressed him: "Monseigneur, if it

please God to call you to himself, do you wish that Monsieur de Metz,

your brother, should have a share in the administration of your State

and the care of your children, without prejudice to the arrangements

which you have already made, by word and in writing, with your august

wife the Duchess?" The dying Prince, who was hardly conscious, murmured

a faint "Yes," upon which the Count summoned a notary to write down

the Duke's last wishes, and proceeded to read the document to the

Duchess in the presence of her servants.[375] Christina, in her bitter

distress, paid little heed to this interruption, and was only anxious

to return to her dying husband's bedside; but immediately after his

death she found herself compelled to face the question. Owing to her

delicate state of health, she decided to put off the Duke's funeral,

as well as that of his father, until the following year. A week after

his death she joined her young children at her dower-house of Denœuvre,

and at the same time the Duke's body was removed by Count de Salm, as

Marshal of Lorraine, to the collegiate church of this place, and buried

in a temporary grave, after lying in state during three days.

The Emperor was at Worms with the Elector Palatine and his wife

when the news of the Duke of Lorraine's death reached him, and sent

Montbardon at once to his niece with letters of condolence. Christina

availed herself of this opportunity to ask her uncle's advice regarding

the deed drawn up by Jean de Salm. Charles, realizing the critical

nature of the situation, immediately sent one of his most trusted

servants, François Bonvalot, Abbot of Luxeuil, to Nancy, with orders

to assure the Duchess of his protection, and if possible secure her

the Regency and sole charge of her children. Bonvalot was the brother

of Granvelle's wife, the excellent Madame Nicole, and had only lately

resigned the office of Ambassador at Paris, and retired to Besançon to

administer the affairs of this diocese as coadjutor of the Bishop. No

one was better fitted to help the widowed Duchess than this statesman,

who was intimately acquainted with the intrigues of the Guise Princes

and the French Court. He hastened to Denœuvre without delay, and,

as soon as he had seen Christina, wrote the following letter to his

brother-in-law, St. Mauris, giving a clear and graphic account of the

situation:

"MY BROTHER,

[Sidenote: JUNE, 1545] CHRISTINA'S DIFFICULTIES]

"The Emperor, having been informed of Monsieur de Lorraine's

death, has sent me here to help his niece the Duchess, and to

secure her the administration of the State and the guardianship

of her children, which belongs to her by right and reason,

but which Monsieur de Metz is trying to claim, by virtue

of the custom of this country, as well as of certain acts

somewhat suspiciously passed by the Count de Salm and other

of the nobles when the late Lord Duke was _in extremis_....

His Majesty, being anxious to comfort the said lady in her

great affliction, and act the part not only of a good uncle,

but of a true father, has sent me here to give her advice and

help, and begs you to tell the Most Christian King the wrong

which has been done her in this strange fashion, and which

His Imperial Majesty will never allow, because of the close

relation in which this lady stands to him. He hopes that the

King will join with him in this, for the sake of the friendship

which he has ever borne to this house and to this widowed lady

and her orphan children, whose fathers and protectors their

two Majesties ought to be. His Imperial Majesty begs the King

most earnestly not to allow the said lady to be deprived of

this Regency to which Monsieur de Metz pretends, in spite

of common right and the ancient custom of Lorraine, as the

Count of Salm's deed abundantly shows, since this would have

been superfluous if the custom were such as he pretends it to

be. You will lay these same reasons before the Cardinal and

Monsieur de Guise. If you are told that Queen Yolande resigned

the government of Lorraine in favour of her son, you will

reply that this was done of her own free choice; and if any

person objects that the mother of the late Duke Antoine and the

Cardinal and Sieur de Guise did not retain the administration

after her husband's death, you will point out that the said

Duke was of full age, and that the said lady was content to lay

down the government on this account.... And, further, you will

inquire what the King intends to do in the matter, and if he

means to support Monsieur de Metz or take any steps prejudicial

to the said lady and the tranquillity of these lands, and will

inform His Imperial Majesty and myself of these things without

delay."[376]

When Bonvalot wrote this letter from Denœuvre, on the 27th of June,

the young Archbishop of Reims had already arrived there, with an

agreement drawn up by his uncle the Cardinal, which he submitted to

the Duchess for approval. He informed the Abbot that King Francis

trusted the said lady would avoid all occasion of strife, which, as

Bonvalot remarked, was exactly what the Emperor wished, and Monsieur

de Metz, by his singular action, had done his best to prevent. In this

difficult situation Christina showed remarkable good sense and tact.

She told Bonvalot frankly that she would gladly avail herself of her

brother-in-law's help in the administration of public affairs, and

wished to treat him with perfect friendliness as long as she retained

the sole charge of her children and the chief authority in the State.

Accordingly, the agreement proposed by the Cardinal was adopted, with

some modifications, and signed at Denœuvre, on the 6th of August, by

Christina, Nicolas, the Count de Salm, and other chief officials of

Lorraine. The Duchess and her brother-in-law were appointed joint

Regents, and were to affix their seal to all public deeds. Vaudemont

was given a key of the Treasury, and was allowed the patronage of one

out of every three vacant offices; but the real authority, as well as

the care of her children, was vested in the Duchess. Bonvalot told the

Emperor that, under the circumstances, this was the best arrangement

that could be made, and Charles of Lorraine and his family had nothing

but praise for the Duchess's good-will and moderation.[377]

[Sidenote: NOV., 1545] HER TACT AND WISDOM]

A fortnight later, Christina gave birth to her second daughter, who

was named Dorothea, after the Countess Palatine. But the severe mental

strain which the mother had undergone affected the child, who was a

cripple from her birth. On the 5th of November the Treaty of Denœuvre

was ratified by the States assembled at Neufchâteau, not, however,

without considerable discussion. Some of the nobles tried to limit

the Regents' powers, and managed to insert a provision that none but

Lorraine's should hold offices of State, a measure clearly aimed at

the Flemings and Burgundians in the Duchess's service. Nicolas de

Vaudemont, being young and inexperienced, agreed readily to these

demands, which drew forth a strong protest from the Emperor and Mary

of Hungary. To add to Bonvalot's dissatisfaction, Monsieur de Metz

accompanied the Archbishop on his return to France, without even

informing Christina of his intention. In spite of these provocations,

she maintained the same conciliatory attitude, and her prudence and

modesty excited the Abbot's sincere admiration. The Emperor addressed

an affectionate letter to his niece, assuring her of his fatherly love

and protection, and saying that he would never cease to regard her

interests as his own. "And it will be a great pleasure to me," he adds,

"if you will often write to me, and I on my part will let you hear from

me in the same manner."[378]

Christina now returned to spend Christmas at Nancy, and settled in

the ducal palace with her children. Monsieur de Metz gave up his

bishopric, and renouncing the ecclesiastical profession adopted the

style of Count of Vaudemont. But he showed no further disposition

to make himself disagreeable to his sister-in-law, and their mutual

relations were rendered easier by the presence of the Princess of

Orange, who spent most of the year at Nancy. The two widowed Princesses

were drawn together by that tenderest of ties, the memory of those

whom they had loved and lost. Henceforth they became the dearest and

closest of friends. During all the troubles and sorrows of the next

twenty years Anne's loyalty to her sister-in-law remained unshaken.

Her strong common-sense and practical qualities, her coolness and

courage in emergencies, were a great support to Christina, while the

confidence that Mary of Hungary reposed in her proved no less valuable.

The harmony of the family circle continued unbroken, and the internal

administration of Lorraine was carried on as peaceably as before. The

conduct of foreign affairs presented far greater difficulties, and all

Christina's prudence was needed to steer the way safely through the

rocks that lay in her course.

In spite of his friendly professions, the French King, it soon became

evident, was likely to prove a troublesome neighbour. As Wotton wrote

when Francis of Lorraine died, "If the sweet, vain hope of the delivery

of Milan did not let him, I think the Duke's death might easily

provoke the French King to attempt somewhat on Bar and Lorraine."[379]

Even before her husband's death, Christina had been involved in a

long correspondence regarding Stenay, which the French refused to

give up until Duke Antoine's letters surrendering the town could be

produced. The missing papers were at length discovered in possession

of the French Governor, De Longueval, who had maliciously concealed

them, and the town was evacuated at the end of August, 1545. Ten days

afterwards the Duke of Orleans died of the plague at Abbeville, in his

twenty-fifth year. The loss of this favourite son was a heavy blow to

Francis. "God grant," he wrote to the Emperor, in an outburst of deep

emotion, "that you may never know what it is to lose a son!" The event,

as it happened, proved most opportune for Charles, who was released

from the unpleasant necessity of giving his daughter or niece to a

worthless Prince, with Milan or the Netherlands as her dower. But it

naturally provoked Francis to demand fresh concessions and revive his

old claim to Milan.

[Sidenote: JUNE, 1546] THE CITADEL OF STENAY]

The effect of this new quarrel was to increase Christina's

difficulties. When the French at length abandoned Stenay, it was

found that not only the recent fortifications had been destroyed,

as agreed upon in the Treaty of Crépy, but that the old walls of the

town had been pulled down. Mary of Hungary justly complained that the

defenceless state of Stenay was a grave cause of danger to Luxembourg,

and urged her brother to garrison the town, declaring, if war broke

out, the Duchess would be unable to maintain the neutrality of

Lorraine. Charles, who had already left the Netherlands to attend the

Diet of Regensburg, now invited his niece to meet him at Waldrevange,

on the frontiers of Luxembourg, and discuss the matter. Christina

obeyed her uncle's summons gladly, and assured him that she was quite

alive to the importance of Stenay, and had already asked her subjects'

help in rebuilding the town walls. But since the presence of an

imperial force might excite suspicion, she proposed to place a young

Luxembourg Captain named Schauwenbourg in command of the garrison. The

plan met with Charles's approval; but Mary was by no means satisfied,

and begged the Emperor to insist on an oath of allegiance to himself

being taken by the garrison and burghers. Charles replied that no doubt

the best plan would be to keep Stenay altogether, but that this would

be a direct violation of the Treaty of Crépy, as well as a wrong to the

little Duke, and might stir up the French "to make a great broil."[380]

The invaluable Bonvalot was now called in, and accepted Christina's

invitation to attend the funeral of the two Dukes on the 14th of June.

But when the Abbot reached Nancy, he found that only Duke Antoine's

obsequies were about to be solemnized, and that the Duchess had

deferred those of her husband in compliance with a request from the

Guise Princes. On the day after the old Duke's funeral, Bonvalot had

a long interview with Christina, who expressed her anxiety to meet

her aunt's wishes, and explained that Vaudemont was only afraid of

arousing the suspicions of the French. While she was speaking, Nicolas

himself came in and told the Abbé how grateful he felt to the Emperor

for the affection which he showed to his little nephew, and how fully

he realized the importance of defending Stenay, but that he dared not

risk exciting the displeasure of Francis, who was already advancing a

thousand new claims on Bar. The members of the Ducal Council, to whom

the matter was referred, expressed the same opinion, telling Bonvalot

that they looked to the Emperor as their father and protector, and

would guard Stenay as the apple of their eye. The Abbot was satisfied

with these assurances, and advised the Emperor to leave the matter

in his niece's hands. Charles had empowered him to offer Nicolas the

restitution of the Abbey of Gorzes, which he had formerly held, and

which the Imperialists had recovered from the French and rebuilt at

considerable expense. But Christina would not hear of this, saying that

her brother-in-law cared more for the good of the State than for his

private advantage, and Nicolas himself told Bonvalot that he would not

endanger his nephew's realm for ten wealthy abbeys.

[Sidenote: JULY, 1546] THE GUISE FAMILY]

"As for madame your niece, Sire," wrote the Abbot, "I have

always found her most anxious to please Your Majesty, at

whatever cost. But as a mother she naturally fears to run any

risks which might injure her children, and would, if possible,

avoid these perils. She begged me, with tears in her eyes,

to make Your Majesty understand this, and have pity upon

her, trusting that you will be content with the promises of

the Council, or else find another and less dangerous way of

defending Stenay. Sire, I could not refuse to give you this

message, in obedience to Her Highness's express commands, and

beg you very humbly to take them in good part."[381]

So the incident closed, and for the time being nothing more was heard

of Stenay.

II.

The Duke of Guise and his family now stood higher than ever in the

King's favour. His eldest son, Aumale, was dangerously wounded in the

siege of Boulogne by an English spear, which penetrated so deeply into

his forehead that the surgeon could only extract the steel by planting

his foot on the patient's head. After this ordeal the Count lay between

life and death for several weeks, and owed his recovery to the tender

nursing of his mother, who preserved as a trophy at Joinville the

English spearhead which so nearly ended her son's career.[382] As soon

as he was able to move, the King sent for Antoinette, and insisted

on taking her to hunt at St. Germain, and consulting her as to his

latest improvements in this palace. Her grandson, the young Duke of

Longueville, was also a great favourite at Court, and when peace was

at length concluded, the King gave him a copy of the new treaty with

England to send to the Queen of Scotland. The boy enclosed it in a

merry letter, sending his love to the little Queen his sister, and

telling his mother that if she would not come to France he meant to

come and see her, and was old and strong enough to face the roughest

sea-voyage.[383]

The Cardinal now announced his intention of taking the whole family

back to Joinville, to attend the ducal funeral; but once more the King

interfered, and kept them at Court for the christening of the Dauphin's

daughter, which was celebrated with great pomp at Fontainebleau. Henry

VIII. stood godfather, and the little Princess was named Elizabeth,

after the King's mother, "as good and virtuous a woman as ever lived,"

said the English Ambassador, Sir Thomas Cheyney; while the Imperialists

declared that the name was chosen because of its popularity in Spain

and of the hopes of the French that the child might one day wed Don

Carlos.[384]

Meanwhile the arrival of the Guises was anxiously awaited at Nancy. On

the 17th of July Christina wrote to inform Abbot Bonvalot that she had

at length been able to fix the date of her husband's funeral:

"MONSIEUR DE LUXEUIL,

[Sidenote: AUG., 1546] FUNERAL OF DUKE FRANCIS]

"I must inform you that I have heard from the Cardinal and the

Duke of Guise, who hope to be here by the end of the month, so

the service will be held on the 6th of August, all being well.

I beg you will not fail to be present. As for my news, all I

have to tell you is that the King is giving me great trouble in

Bar, and is trying to raise a tax in the town, which has never

been done or thought of before. I fear that in the end I, too,

shall have to go to Court, but shall wait until I hear from the

Emperor. Can you give me any information as to his movements?

All I can hear is that His Majesty is collecting a large army

to make war on the Princes of the Empire, who have rebelled

against him. I pray God to help him, and send him success and

prosperity, and have good hope that my prayers will be heard,

as this will be for the good of Christendom. Here I will end,

Monsieur de Luxeuil, praying God to have you in His holy

keeping.

"La bien votre,

"CHRESTIENNE."[385]

The coming of the Guises, however, was again delayed, and the funeral

did not take place until the 17th of August. On the previous day the

Duke's corpse was brought from Denœuvre to Nancy by the great officers

of State, and laid on a bier in the Church of St. George's, surrounded

by lighted torches and a guard of armed men, who kept watch all night.

The funerals of the Dukes of Lorraine had always been famous for their

magnificence, and there was an old proverb which said: "Fortunate

is the man who has seen the coronation of an Emperor, the sacring

of a King of France, and the funeral of a Duke of Lorraine."[386]

On this occasion nothing that could heighten the imposing nature of

the ceremony was neglected. All the Princes of the blood, Nicolas of

Vaudemont, the Duke of Guise with his five sons and grandson, rode

out from the ducal palace to the Church of St. Georges, and took

their places, as chief mourners, at the head of the long procession

that wound through the streets to the Cordeliers' shrine. In their

train came a multitude of clergy, nobles, and Ambassadors from all

the crowned heads in Europe, followed by a motley crowd of burghers

and humble folk, all in deep mourning, with torches in their hands.

The chariot bearing the coffin was drawn by twelve horses, draped

with black velvet adorned with the cross of Lorraine in white satin.

The Duke's war-horse, in full armour, was led by two pages, while the

servants of his household walked bareheaded on either side, with folded

arms, in token that their master needed their services no more. On the

hearse lay an image of the dead Prince, with the ducal baton in his

hand, clad in crimson robes and a mantle of gold brocade fastened with

a diamond clasp. This effigy was placed on a huge catafalque erected in

the centre of the church, lighted with a hundred torches, and hung with

banners emblazoned with the arms of Lorraine, Bar, Provence, Jerusalem,

and the Sicilies.

In the tribune above the choir knelt the Princess of Orange, the

Duchess of Guise, and her newly-wedded daughter-in-law, Diane of

Poitiers's daughter Louise, Marchioness of Mayenne, all clad in the

same long black mantles lined with ermine. The Countess Palatine,

Dorothea, had arrived at Nancy on the 17th of June, to attend her

brother-in-law's funeral, but as the Guises failed to appear, she

returned to Heidelberg at the end of a fortnight.

[Sidenote: OCT., 1546] ANNE DE LORRAINE]

Christina herself was unable to be present, "owing to her excessive

sorrow," writes the chronicler, and remained on her knees in prayer,

with the Princess of Macedonia and her young children, in her own room,

hung with black, while the requiem was chanted and the last rites were

performed.[387] When all was over, and the "two Princes of peace," as

De Boullay called Francis and his father, were laid side by side in

the vault of the Friars' Church, the vast assembly dispersed and the

mourners went their ways. Only Anne of Lorraine remained at Nancy with

her sister-in-law, who could not bear to part from her. A letter which

this Princess wrote to her cousin, the Queen of Scotland, this summer

is of interest for the glimpse which it gives of the widowed Duchess

and the boy round whom all her hopes centred:

"Your Majesty's last letters reached me on the day when I

arrived here from home, and I regret extremely that I have been

unable to answer them before. I am very glad to hear you are

in good health and kind enough to remember me. On my part, I

can assure you that there is no one in your family who thinks

of you with greater affection or is more anxious to do you

service than myself. I did not fail to give your kind message,

to Madame de Lorraine, my sister, and Her Highness returns her

most humble thanks. You will be glad to hear that her son is

well and thriving. I pray God that he may live to fulfil the

promise of his early years. Everyone who sees him speaks well

of him, and his nature is so good that I hope he will grow up

to satisfy our highest expectations. May God grant you long

life!

"Your humble cousin,

"ANNE DE LORRAINE."[388]

The Princess of Orange was still in Lorraine when King Francis came

to visit the Duchess. This monarch was as active as ever, in spite of

frequent attacks of illness, and spent the autumn in making a progress

through Burgundy and Champagne, hunting and travelling seven or eight

leagues a day in the most inclement weather.

In October he came to Joinville, and Christina, glad to be relieved

of the necessity of going to Court herself, invited him to pay her a

visit at Bar. In this once stately Romanesque castle, of which little

now remains, the Duchess and the Princess of Orange, "dowagers both,"

as Wotton remarks, entertained Francis magnificently, and provided a

series of hunting-parties and banquets for his amusement.

The true object of the King's visit was to arrange a marriage between

the Duchess and the Count of Aumale. The young soldier made no secret

of his love for his cousin's beautiful widow, Antoinette was anxious to

see her son settled, and both the King and the Guises were fully alive

to the political advantages of the alliance. On the 26th of October

Wotton wrote from Bar, "The fame continues of a marriage between the

Dowager of Lorraine and the Count of Aumale," although, as he had

already remarked in a previous letter, it was hard to believe the

Duchess's uncles would consent to the union. Aumale's own hopes were

high, and he sent a messenger to Scotland to tell his sister of the

good cheer which they were enjoying in Madame de Lorraine's house at

Bar.[389]

[Sidenote: OCT., 1546] MARRIAGE PROPOSALS]

But these hopes were doomed to disappointment. Christina was determined

never to marry again. Like her aunt, Mary of Hungary, having once

tasted perfect happiness, she was unwilling to repeat the experiment.

Her beauty was in its prime, her charms attracted lovers of every

age and rank. During the next ten or twelve years she was courted by

several of the most illustrious personages and bravest captains of the

age. She smiled on all her suitors in turn, and gave them freely of her

friendship, but remained true to her resolve to live for her children

alone, and took for her device a solitary tower with doves fluttering

round its barred windows, and the motto _Accipio nullas sordida turris

aves_ (A ruined tower, I give shelter to no birds), as a symbol of

perpetual widowhood.[390]

Aumale consoled himself by winning fresh laurels in the next war, and

before long married another bride of high degree; but Brantôme, who

was intimate with the Guises, tells us that he never forgave Madame de

Lorraine for rejecting his suit, and remained her bitter enemy to the

end of his life.[391] The King took Christina's refusal more lightly.

He never treated women's fancies seriously, and when he found that

Aumale's suit was not acceptable, he sought the Duchess's help in a

scheme that lay nearer his heart. This was the marriage of his own

daughter Margaret with Philip of Spain, whose young wife had died, in

June, 1545, a few days after giving birth to the Infant Don Carlos. The

old scheme of marrying this Princess to the Emperor's only son was now

revived at the French Court, and Christina, who had always appreciated

Madame Marguerite's excellent qualities, entered readily into the

King's wishes. But, as she soon discovered, her aunt, Queen Eleanor,

was greatly opposed to the idea, and still ardently wished to see

Philip married to her own daughter, the Infanta Maria of Portugal.[392]

From Bar Francis returned to spend All Hallows at Joinville, where he

enjoyed fresh revels, and delighted the Duke of Longueville by telling

him to make haste and grow tall, that he might enter his service.

"Now he goes," wrote the boy's tutor, Jean de la Brousse,

"to keep Christmas at Compiègne, and will spend the winter

in Paris, watching how matters go with the Emperor and the

Protestants, whose armies have been three months face to face,

and yet do not know how to kill each other."[393]

In the same letter the writer describes how, on his journey to

Plessis, to bring the Princess of Navarre to Court, he met the Queen

of Scotland's sister, Madame Renée, with a number of old monks and

nuns, on her way from Fontévrault to Joinville. On the 16th of December

Madame Renée took possession of the Convent of St. Pierre at Reims, of

which she was Abbess, and the Duchess of Lorraine and the Princess of

Orange were among the guests present at this ceremony, at the entry of

her brother the Archbishop into his episcopal city on the following day.

[Sidenote: JAN., 1547] DEATH OF HENRY VIII.]

Meanwhile the news of Christina's supposed marriage travelled far

and wide. It reached Venice, where the fate of the Duchess who had

once reigned over Milan always excited interest, and was reported to

King Henry of England by one of his Italian agents. His curiosity

was aroused, and when the French Ambassador, Odet de Selve, came to

Windsor, he asked him if his master had concluded the marriage which

he had in hand. "What marriage?" asked De Selve innocently. "That of

Madame de Lorraine," replied Henry testily. "With whom?" asked the

Ambassador. But Henry would say no more, and relapsed into sullen

silence.[394] He had come back from Boulogne seriously ill, and grew

heavier and more unwieldy every day. A week afterwards he had a severe

attack of fever, and on his return to London sent Norfolk and Surrey to

the Tower.

Mary of Hungary was so much alarmed at this fresh outbreak of violence

that she sent to Chapuys, who was living in retirement at Louvain, for

advice. The veteran diplomatist, who for sixteen years had toiled to

avoid a rupture between the two monarchs, wrote back, on the 29th of

January, 1547, advising the Queen to take no action. "Physicians say,"

he added, "that the best and quickest cure for certain maladies is to

leave the evil untouched and avoid further irritation." When the old

statesman wrote these words, the King, whose varying moods he knew so

well, had already ceased from troubling. He died at Whitehall on the

28th of January, 1547.

The news of his royal brother's death moved the King of France deeply.

"We were both of the same age," he said, "and now he is gone it is time

for me to go hence, too."[395] In spite of the painful ailments from

which he suffered, Francis still moved restlessly from place to place.

Towards the end of Lent he left Loches to spend Easter at St. Germain,

but fell ill on the way, and died at Rambouillet on the 31st of March.

The death of these two monarchs, who filled so large a place in the

history of the times, produced a profound sensation throughout Europe.

No one felt the shock more than the Duchess, who had been courted by

one Prince, and had lately received the other under her roof. But a

third death this spring touched her still more closely. On the 28th

of February the good old Queen Philippa passed away in her humble

cell at Pont-à-Mousson. As she lay dying she asked what was the day

of the week, and, being told it was Saturday, remarked: "All the best

things of my life came to me on this day. I was born and married to my

dear husband on a Saturday, I entered Nancy amid the rejoicings of my

people, and I forsook the world to take the veil, on this day, and now

on Saturday I am going to God." Her children and grandchildren knelt at

the bedside, but Guise, her best-loved son, only arrived from Paris at

the last moment. She opened her eyes at the sound of his voice. "Adieu,

mon ami," she said, "and do not forget to keep God before your eyes."

These were her last words, and as the pure spirit passed out of this

life the sound of weeping was broken by the joyous songs of her pet

lark.[396]

She was buried, as she desired, in the convent cloister, and the

people, who venerated her as a saint, flocked to the funeral. Christina

employed Ligier-Richier, the sculptor of the Prince of Orange's

monument, to carve a recumbent effigy of the dead Queen in coloured

marbles on her tomb. The black cloak and grey habit were faithfully

reproduced, the finely-modelled features were rendered in all their

ivory whiteness, and a tiny figure of a kneeling nun was represented in

the act of laying the crown at her feet. When the convent church was

pillaged by rioters in 1793, this monument was buried by the nuns in

the garden. Here it was discovered in 1822, and brought to Nancy, where

it now stands in the Church of the Cordeliers, near the stately tomb

which Philippa herself had reared to her husband, King René.[397]

[Sidenote: AUG., 1546] THE LEAGUE OF SCHMALKALDE]

III.

Of the three great monarchs whose fame had filled the world during

the last forty years, only one remained alive, and he was engaged in

a desperate struggle. Throughout the autumn and winter of 1546-47,

Charles V. carried on a vigorous campaign against the coalition of

Princes known as the League of Schmalkalde. Christina watched the

progress of the war with keen anxiety, and saw with distress that her

brother-in-law, the Palatine, had joined the rebel ranks. Frederic had

never forgiven the Emperor for sacrificing his wife's rights by the

Treaty of Spires, and showed his displeasure by refusing to attend the

Chapter of the Golden Fleece at Utrecht in January, 1546. He further

annoyed Charles by introducing Lutheran rites at Heidelberg, and on

Christmas Day he and Dorothea received Communion in both kinds at the

hands of a Protestant pastor in the Church of the Holy Ghost. But he

still hesitated to take up arms against the friend of his youth. At

length, in August, he declared himself on the Protestant side, and for

the first time the red flag of the Palatinate was seen in the camp of

the Emperor's foes. Before long, however, his courage failed him, and

when Charles recovered the imperial city of Halle, in Suabia, Frederic

hastened thither to make his peace. Tears rose to the veteran's eyes

when the Emperor said how much it had grieved him to see so old a

friend in the ranks of his foes, but hastened to add that he forgave

him freely and would only remember his past services. From this time

the Palatine's loyalty never again wavered, but he was obliged to

restore Catholic rites in Heidelberg and to give up his fortress of

Hoh-Königsberg in Franconia to Albert of Brandenburg.[398]

The Duke of Würtemberg and the cities of Ulm and Augsburg soon followed

the Palatine's example, and Charles's triumph was complete by the

decisive victory of Mühlberg. "God be thanked, who never forsakes

his own," wrote Granvelle to Mary of Hungary from the battle-field,

at midnight on the 24th of April.[399] The Elector John Frederick of

Saxony and the Landgrave of Hesse were made prisoners, the League of

Schmalkalde was dissolved, and Titian commemorated the Emperor's heroic

deeds in a famous equestrian portrait.

[Sidenote: NOV., 1547] THE DIET OF AUGSBURG]

The peace of Lorraine was insured by the victory of Mühlberg, and

Christina shared in the general sense of relief with which the close

of the war was hailed. When, in the following autumn, the Regent

and the Princess of Orange rode to meet the Emperor at the Diet of

Augsburg, the Duchess joined them on the frontiers of Lorraine. These

three august ladies reached Augsburg on the 21st of November, and were

received by King Ferdinand, his son Archduke Maximilian, and the Prince

of Piedmont, who met them outside the gates, and escorted them to the

Emperor's lodgings in the fine house of the Fuggers. Here the Countess

Palatine and Ferdinand's daughter, the Duchess of Bavaria, were

awaiting them at the doors of the courtyard, and conducted them into

Charles's presence. During the next three months Christina lived in the

great banker's house, with the other members of the imperial family,

as her uncle's guest. Augsburg itself was a noble city. The wealth of

her merchants, the splendour of their houses and gardens, amazed every

stranger who entered her gates. "The Fuggers' house," wrote Ascham,

"would over-brag all Cheapside." The copper roofs glittered in the sun,

the carved and painted decorations of the interior were of the most

costly and elaborate description.[400] And this winter the streets of

Augsburg were thronged with Princes and ladies. It was the gayest and

most splendid Diet ever seen. Never before had so many Archduchesses

and Duchesses been present, never was there so much dancing and

jousting and feasting. On St. Andrew's Day the whole imperial family

attended a solemn Mass in honour of the Knights of the Fleece, and

were entertained by the Emperor at a banquet, after which the Queen

of Hungary received the Companions of the Order in her apartments. On

Christmas Day all the Princes and Princesses were present at High Mass

in the Cathedral, and on the Feast of the Three Kings they attended

service in the Court chapel, when Granvelle's son, the young Bishop of

Arras, officiated, and the Palatine, the Marquis of Brandenburg, and

the Archduke, presented the customary offerings of gold, frankincense,

and myrrh, in the Emperor's name. Except on these state occasions,

Charles dined alone and never spoke at meals, but generally sat by the

window for an hour or two afterwards, talking to his brother and sister

or nephews and nieces.

King Ferdinand's rooms, on the contrary, were never empty. He had

lost his faithful wife, Anna of Bohemia, in January, but his son and

daughter were lavish in dispensing their father's hospitality. Like his

sister Mary, Ferdinand was very fond of music, and enjoyed listening to

his fine Kapelle, while one of his favourite jesters was always present

to amuse the Electors and Princesses at his table.[401] His son, the

Archduke Max, as Ascham calls him, was a gay and pleasant gentleman,

"of goodly person and stature," speaking eight languages, and very

popular with all classes, especially the Lutherans, whose opinions he

was supposed to affect. Charles's other nephew, Emanuel Philibert, the

Prince of Piedmont, was another gallant squire of dames, as ready to

take part in masque and dance as he was foremost in active warfare.

Every evening there was music and dancing in the King's rooms, and the

old halls of the merchants rang to the sound of laughter and melody. In

that joyous throng the Countess Palatine was the gayest of the gay, and

Christina forgot her sorrows to become young once more.

[Sidenote: 1548] THE MARQUIS ALBERT]

There was one man among the Princes assembled at Augsburg who gazed

with frank admiration at the handsome Duchess; this was the Marquis

Albert of Brandenburg, Lord of Culmbach and Burgrave of Nuremberg.

While still a boy he succeeded to his father's principality in

Franconia, and was educated by his uncle, the Duke of Prussia and

Grand-Master of the Teutonic Order. Although brought up a Lutheran,

he entered the Emperor's service before he was twenty, and fought

gallantly in the wars of Cleves and Champagne. A wild and reckless

spirit, who rode hard, drank deep, and knew no fear, Albert was adored

by his soldiers, whose toils and hardships he shared with cheerful

courage, while his name was the terror of all peaceful citizens.

"Thunder and lightning, devouring fire," wrote a contemporary, "are

not more terrible than the Marquis Albert on the battle-field."[402]

But there was a fascination about this ruthless dare-devil which no

woman could resist. His sisters were passionately devoted to him, and

Bona, the Queen of Poland, tried in vain to marry him to one of her

daughters. Roger Ascham describes him as

"another Achilles, his face fair and beautiful, but stern and

manly, with flowing locks and great rolling eyes, yet with a

sad, restless look, as if he was ever seeking what he could not

find. A man of few words withal, but with a deep, strong voice,

ever more ready to hear than to speak."[403]

There seemed no heights to which this soldier of fortune could not

aspire. The Emperor treated him with fatherly affection, and the Queen

and the Duchess of Lorraine honoured the sumptuous banquets, in which

he displayed his usual prodigality, careless of the debts with which he

was already loaded.

Once more rumour was busy with Christina's name. The Marquis Albert

proclaimed himself her devoted servant, and her marriage with the

young King Sigismund of Poland was seriously discussed at Augsburg.

This monarch's wife, the Archduchess Elizabeth, had died before his

accession, and his sister, the Electress Hedwig of Brandenburg,

was eager to bring about a union between him and the Duchess of

Lorraine;[404] but, as usual, these rumours ended in smoke, and the

only marriage announced at Augsburg was that of the Archduke Max and

his cousin the Infanta Maria of Spain, an alliance which had long been

privately arranged.

[Sidenote: JUNE, 1548] THE INTERIM]

Early in the New Year another distinguished person arrived at Augsburg,

in the person of the great Venetian master, Titian. He came in

obedience to an urgent summons from the Emperor, and during the next

few months painted a magnificent series of portraits, including those

of Charles and Ferdinand, the captive Elector of Saxony, Chancellor

Granvelle, his wife, and his son, the Bishop of Arras, who was a great

admirer of Titian's art. Fourteen years before, this same master had

taken Christina's portrait, when she came to Milan as the youthful

bride of Francesco Sforza; now he saw her again in the flower of her

womanhood, and, had opportunity offered, would doubtless have painted

her again. But disquieting rumours of unrest on the frontiers of

Lorraine reached Augsburg, and on the 16th of February the Duchess set

out on her return to Nancy. The Emperor gave his niece a costly ring

as a parting present, and Archduke Max, the Marquis Albert, the Prince

of Piedmont, together with the Countess Palatine and the Princess of

Orange, escorted her some leagues on her way. When, a month later, the

Queen of Hungary left Augsburg, she paid Christina a visit at Nancy,

bringing with her Anne of Lorraine and William, the young Prince of

Orange, a promising boy of fifteen, who was being educated at Court,

and met with a kindly welcome from the Duchess and her subjects for the

sake of the lamented Prince whose name he bore.[405] By Mary's advice,

the Regents took active measures for the defence of the frontier and

the fortification of Nancy. An arsenal was founded, and two bastions,

which became known as those of Denmark and Vaudemont, were built near

the palace. Other improvements were carried out at the same time: the

marshy ground under the walls was thoroughly drained, and converted

into a spacious square called La Place de la Carrière; many of the

streets were paved and widened; and the Count of Salm, Bassompierre,

and several of the nobles, built fine new houses along the Grande Rue,

opposite the Galerie des Cerfs.[406]

[Illustration: _Photo Hanfstaengl_

CHARLES V. (1548)

By Titian (Munich)

_To face p. 322_]

The Emperor remained at Augsburg throughout the summer, endeavouring

to effect a lasting settlement of the religious question. On the 30th

of June the so-called "Interim" was proclaimed, a compromise which

satisfied no one, and was described by Thomas Hoby, a young Englishman

who came to Augsburg this summer on his way to Italy, as an attempt to

set up the old Babylon again in Germany.[407] A fortnight later the

Diet was prorogued, and Charles started for the Netherlands, where he

arrived on the 8th of September, after more than two years' absence.

A few weeks before his arrival a marriage had taken place, greatly to

Mary's satisfaction, between the widowed Princess of Orange and the

Duke of Aerschot.[408] This nobleman, the premier peer of the realm

and doyen of the Golden Fleece, had lost his second wife in 1544, but

was still in the prime of life, and, as his daughter-in-law, Louise

de Guise, told her sister, was honoured and beloved throughout the

Netherlands. Christina could not herself be present at the wedding,

but her brother-in-law Nicolas went to Brussels to give his sister

away. Here he fell in love with Count Egmont's sister Margaret, and

asked her hand in marriage. This alliance met with the warm approval

of the Emperor and the Regent, but caused Christina many searchings of

heart. Already more than one attempt had been made by the Guises to

marry Vaudemont to a French bride, and she feared that this union would

excite great displeasure in some quarters. In her alarm she wrote to

the Emperor, begging him to forbid the marriage as dangerous to the

welfare of her State. Charles, however, declined to interfere, and sent

Granvelle's brother, Chantonnay, to advise his niece politely to mind

her own business.

"Since the Count of Vaudemont is bent on marrying," he wrote

to his Envoy, "it is far better that he should come here for a

wife than go to France; and the Duchess need not feel in any

way responsible for the alliance, which is entirely his own

doing.... And, indeed, I do not see how he could honourably

break his word, since we ourselves urged our cousins of

Egmont to agree to his proposals. But tell him to come here

as soon as he can, to prevent the French from making any more

mischief!"[409]

[Sidenote: DEC., 1548] ADOLF OF HOLSTEIN]

There was nothing more to be said, and the wedding was celebrated in

the Court chapel at Brussels, after vespers, on the 23rd of January,

1549. The bride, richly clad in cloth of gold and decked with priceless

gems, was led to the altar by the Queen, while Charles brought in the

bridegroom. A banquet and masque were afterwards held in the palace,

at the close of which Mary once more took the bride by the hand and

conducted her into the nuptial chamber, hung with crimson brocade and

costly tapestries. The next morning the newly-wedded Countess appeared

at Mass, in another costume of green velvet embroidered in silver, and

jousts and dances succeeded each other during the following three days,

ending with a magnificent banquet given by the Duchess of Aerschot.[410]

Among the company present on this occasion was the Dowager Queen

Eleanor, who came to Brussels on the 5th of December, to make her

home with her beloved brother and sister. On his death-bed Francis

I. was seized with remorse for the way in which he had neglected his

wife, and begged his daughter Margaret to atone for his shortcomings.

But although Margaret carried out her father's last instructions

faithfully, and asked his widow to remain at Court, the new King showed

his stepmother scanty kindness, and Eleanor left France with few

regrets. Another guest at Margaret of Egmont's wedding was Christina's

cousin, Duke Adolf of Holstein, the King of Denmark's youngest brother.

Most of his life had been spent in Germany, and he had taken part in

the campaign of Mühlberg with his friend Albert of Brandenburg. Now,

following the wild Marquis's example, he came to Brussels in October,

1548, and entered the Emperor's service. This new recruit was cordially

welcomed, and gave a signal proof of his valour by carrying off the

first prize in the tournament held at the palace.

Christina herself maintained the prudent attitude which she had adopted

with regard to Vaudemont's marriage, and refused to countenance by her

presence a union which excited much unfriendly criticism in France. Two

other weddings in which she was also keenly interested took place about

the same time. On the 20th of October her old suitor, the brilliant

and volatile Duke of Vendôme, was married at Moulins to Jeanne

d'Albret, the heiress of Navarre. This strong-minded Princess, who

refused to wed the Duke of Cleves, and took objection to Aumale because

his brother was the husband of Diane de Poitiers's daughter, fell

suddenly in love with Vendôme, and insisted on marrying him in spite of

her mother's opposition. So radiant was Jeanne on her wedding-day that

King Henry declared her to be the most joyous bride whom he had ever

seen. Six weeks later Aumale himself was married at St. Germain to Anna

d'Este, daughter of Duke Ercole II. of Ferrara and Renée of France.

Ronsard sang the praises of this Italian Venus who had taken the Mars

of France for her lord, and Vendôme, gay and inconsequent as ever,

sent his old rival in war and love a merry letter, bidding him follow

his good example, and stay at home to play the good husband.[411] This

union with the King's first cousin satisfied the highest ambitions of

the Guises, while Anna's charm and goodness were a source of lasting

content to Duchess Antoinette. Christina was one of the first to greet

the bride on her arrival at Joinville. At first the two Princesses,

Brantôme tells us, looked at each other shyly, but with evident

curiosity. The tale of Aumale's courtship was well known, and Christina

naturally felt keen interest in the Este Princess who came from

Beatrice's home and was the cousin of Francesco Sforza. "Anna," writes

the chronicler, "was tall and beautiful, but very gentle and amiable.

The two ladies met and conversed together, and were soon the best of

friends."[412]

[Sidenote: MARCH, 1549] CHRISTINA AT BRUSSELS]

IV.

Christina's absence from her brother-in-law's wedding had been a great

disappointment to her aunts, and she received a pressing invitation

to come to Brussels for the fêtes in honour of the Prince of Spain,

whose arrival was expected early in the spring of 1549. Accordingly,

on the 28th of March the Duchess reached Brussels, attended by the

Princess of Macedonia, and was received by the Grand-Écuyer Boussu and

a brilliant escort of gentlemen. One of these was the Marquis Albert,

whose name of late had been frequently coupled with her own, the

other his friend Duke Adolf of Holstein. Christina naturally hailed

this meeting with her cousin, especially now that his brother, King

Christian, had alleviated the rigour of her father's captivity. Since

the Palatine had abandoned all attempts to maintain his wife's claims,

the reigning monarch had agreed to release his unfortunate kinsman

from the dungeons of Sonderburg. On the 17th of February the two Kings

met and dined together in a friendly manner, after which the deposed

monarch was removed to Kallundborg, a pleasantly-situated castle on

a promontory of Zeeland, where he spent the remaining ten years of

his life in comparative freedom.[413] This, indeed, was all that the

Emperor desired. In a secret paper of instructions which he drew up

for Philip in case of his own death, he enjoined his son to cultivate

peaceable relations with the King of Denmark, and do his utmost to keep

the Princesses Dorothea and Christina in his good graces, and insure

their father's good treatment, "without allowing him such a measure

of liberty as might enable him to assert his old claims and injure our

State of Flanders as he did before."[414]

Unfortunately, the interest with which Christina regarded the Danish

Prince proved fatal to Adolf's friendship with the Marquis. Before the

outbreak of the Schmalkalde War, Adolf had become affianced to Albert's

sister, Fräulein Kunigunde. The wedding-day was fixed, and the citizens

of Nuremberg had prepared gold rings and jewels for the bride, but the

disturbed state of Denmark compelled the Duke to postpone his marriage

for a time. Then, as ill-luck would have it, he met the Duchess of

Lorraine at the New Year festivities at Augsburg, and fell desperately

in love with her. From this moment he forgot Fräulein Kunigunde, and

took the first excuse he could find to break off his engagement. Albert

never forgave the wrong, and, although the two Princes met at Brussels

and walked side by side in the Court chapel on Candlemas Day, the old

friendship between them was turned to bitter enmity.[415]

[Sidenote: APRIL, 1549] PHILIP OF SPAIN]

But now private grievances had to be put aside, and friends and foes

alike joined in the public rejoicings which welcomed the Prince of

Spain's arrival. Charles was anxious to present his son to his future

subjects in the most favourable light, and no pains were spared to

produce a good impression both on Philip himself and on the loyal

people of Brabant. On the 1st of April, Mary of Hungary, Christina, and

Anne of Aerschot, accompanied by the whole Court, received the Prince

at Ter Vueren, where they entertained him at dinner and witnessed

a military parade and sham-fight on the plains outside the town.

In the evening Philip made his state entry into Brussels, clad in

crimson velvet and riding on a superb war-horse, attended by Albert of

Brandenburg, Adolf of Holstein, the Princes of Piedmont, Orange, and

Chimay, Alva, Egmont, Pescara, and many other illustrious personages.

The chief burghers and city guilds met the Prince at Ter Vueren, and

escorted him to the palace gates, where the two Queens and Christina

conducted him into the Emperor's presence. Philip fell on his knees,

and his father embraced him with tears in his eyes, and conversed with

him for over an hour. At nightfall the whole city was illuminated,

and bonfires blazed from all the neighbouring heights. The next day

a tournament was held on the Grande Place, and a splendid gold cup

was presented to the Prince by the city, while the States of Brabant

voted him a gift of 100,000 florins and hailed him with acclamation

as the Emperor's successor. But in the evening these rejoicings were

interrupted by the news of the Duke of Aerschot's sudden death. He

had gone to Spires to meet the Prince, but had over-exerted himself,

and died very suddenly at his castle of Quievrain. It was a grievous

blow to Anne of Lorraine, who was once more left a widow, before she

had been married quite nine months. The deepest sympathy was felt for

her at Court, and Mary lamented the loss of her wisest Councillor.

All festivities were put off till Easter. Philip spent Holy Week in

devotional exercises, and rode to S. Gudule on Palm Sunday, at the head

of a solemn procession of knights bearing palms.

[Sidenote: MAY, 1549] HIS DEVOTION TO CHRISTINA]

Charles took advantage of this quiet season to initiate his son into

the administration of public affairs and make him acquainted with the

leading nobles of the Netherlands. But the impression produced by

Philip was far from being a favourable one. Short in stature and blond

in complexion, with his father's wide forehead and projecting jaw, he

was Flemish in appearance, but Spanish by nature. His taciturn air

and haughty and reserved manners formed a striking contrast to the

frank and genial ways which endeared Charles V. to all classes of his

subjects. Thomas Hoby, who saw Philip at Mantua, noticed what "small

countenance" he made to the crowd who greeted his entry, and heard that

he had already "acquired a name for insolency." Wherever he went it

was the same. "His severe and morose appearance," wrote the Venetian

Suriano, "has made him disagreeable to the Italians, hated by the

Flemings, and odious to the Germans." His marked preference for all

that was Spanish gave deadly offence to the Emperor's old servants, and

people in Brussels said openly that when Philip came to the throne no

one but Spaniards would be employed at Court. In vain his father and

aunt warned him that this exclusive temper was ill-suited to a Prince

who was called to rule over subjects of many nations. He spoke little

in public and rarely smiled. During the year which he spent at Brussels

people said that he was never seen to laugh except on one occasion,

when all the Court witnessed the famous national fête of the Ommegang

from the hôtel-de-ville, on the Fête-Dieu. Among the varied groups in

the procession was a bear playing on an organ, while children dressed

up as monkeys danced to the music, and unhappy cats tied by the tail

in cages filled the air with discordant cries. At the sight of these

grotesque figures even Philip's gravity gave way, and he laughed till

the tears ran down his cheeks.[416]

This cold and haughty Prince, who took no pains to commend himself to

his future subjects, showed a marked preference from the first for his

cousin Christina. He sought her company on every possible occasion,

gave her rich presents, and devoted himself to her service with an

ardour which became a cause of serious annoyance to his aunts.

"Queen Eleanor," wrote the French Ambassador Marillac, "is

always trying to treat of her daughter's marriage with the

Prince, but with very little success, and the great attentions

which he pays the Duchess of Lorraine, the evident delight

which he takes in her society, and the gifts which he bestows

upon her, have excited great jealousy."[417]

Before long Christina herself found Philip's attentions embarrassing,

and felt that it would be the path of wisdom to leave Court. She was

present, however, at a second tournament given on the Grande Place, on

the 6th of May. That day Count d'Aremberg (the husband of Christina's

intimate friend Margaret la Marck), Mansfeldt, Horn, and Floris de

Montmorency, held the lists against all assailants, while Alva and

Francesco d'Este were the judges. Philip, who inherited little of his

father's taste for knightly exercises, but had been practising riding

and jousting diligently during the last few weeks, entered the lists,

and was awarded a fine ruby as a prize, Egmont and the Prince of

Piedmont being the other victors. Albert of Brandenburg was present,

but declined to take part in the tournament. He had seldom been seen

at Court since Philip's arrival and spent most of his time in his own

quarters, compiling an account of his grievances against the Emperor.

One day Charles, fearing to lose his services, sent Granvelle to offer

him an honourable and lucrative office in the Imperial Mint. Albert

replied loftily that, since he was born a Brandenburg, no office which

the Emperor had to bestow, could exalt his station, and that as he

never managed to keep a sixpence in his own pocket, he would rather

not attempt to meddle with other people's money. A few days after this

he asked leave to retire to his own domains. The last time that he

appeared in public was at the banquet which followed the tournament,

in the hôtel-de-ville; here he sat at the Emperor's table, opposite

the Duchess of Lorraine, who was placed between Philip and Emanuel

Philibert of Piedmont, while Adolf of Holstein sat next to the Princess

of Macedonia. All these illustrious guests joined in the ball which

closed the day's festivities, and dancing was kept up with great spirit

until after midnight.[418]

[Sidenote: AUG., 1549] THE GUISE PRINCES]

Early the next morning Christina left Brussels, accompanied by

Vaudemont's wife, Margaret of Egmont, and escorted for several miles

on her journey by the Prince of Spain. Three weeks later the Marquis

Albert also left Court, without taking leave of the Emperor or the

Queens. His abrupt departure excited general surprise, and no one

knew whether it was due to his quarrel with the Duke of Holstein, or

to some imaginary affront from the Prince or the Duchess of Lorraine;

but when he was at some distance from the town he sent back a warrant

for a pension of 4,000 crowns a year, which he had received from the

Emperor, as a sign that he was no longer in his service.

[Illustration: HÔTEL-DE-VILLE, BRUSSELS]

[Illustration: S. GUDULE, BRUSSELS

_To face p. 332_]

During the course of the summer Philip made his "joyeuse entrée"

into the different cities of the Low Countries, and a memorable

series of fêtes was given in his honour by Mary of Hungary at her

beautiful summer palace of Binche. At the end of August the Duchess

of Aerschot gave birth to a posthumous son, who was christened by the

Bishop of Arras in the Court chapel, and named Charles Philip, after

his godfathers, the Emperor and the Prince. But while Anne's second

marriage and her brother's union with Egmont's sister strengthened

the ties between Lorraine and Flanders, the close connection of the

younger branch of the ducal house with France increased daily. After

the marriage of Guise's third son, Mayenne, with Diane de Poitiers's

daughter, his brothers were loaded with favours of every description.

Aumale was created a Duke and appointed Governor of Savoy, and Charles

was made a Cardinal at the King's request, and loaded with rich

benefices. Their mother stood sponsor to Henry II.'s daughter Claude,

who was one day to be the wife of Christina's only son, and had the

deputies of the thirteen Swiss cantons for her godfathers. A new link

was forged by the coming of the little Queen of Scots to France in the

autumn of 1548, as the future bride of the Dauphin. Antoinette met

her granddaughter at Brest, and brought her to St. Germain, where the

charms of the little Queen soon won all hearts. "I can assure you,"

wrote the proud grandmother to her eldest son, "she is the best and

prettiest child of her age that was ever seen!" And her uncle the

Cardinal added: "She already governs both the King and Queen." At the

Court ball in honour of Aumale's wedding, all the guests stood still to

watch the lovely little Queen and the Dauphin dancing hand in hand, and

the King smiled maliciously when the English Ambassador remarked that

it was the most charming thing in the world to see the two children

together.[419]

When Christina returned to Lorraine in May, 1549, all the Guises were

at Paris for the King and Queen's state entry, and the young Duke of

Longueville led his grandmother's white horse in the procession. After

this Antoinette brought her daughter-in-law to spend the autumn quietly

at Joinville, and great was the rejoicing when, on the last day of the

year, Anna gave birth to her first son, the Prince who was to become

famous as "Henri le Balafré." Christina was careful to remain on good

terms with the family at Joinville, and the presence of the Duchess

of Aerschot, who spent the winter in Lorraine, increased the friendly

intercourse between the two houses. Anne's letters to her aunt and

cousins abound in playful allusions to early recollections, and she

always addressed Aumale as "Monsieur mon serviteur" and signed herself

"Votre bonne maîtresse." When, in January, 1550, the Duke of Guise fell

ill, Christina sent her steward Grammont repeatedly to make inquiries

at Joinville.

[Sidenote: APRIL, 1550] DEATH OF GUISE]

"We cannot rest satisfied," wrote the Duchess of Aerschot

from Nancy, "without hearing the latest accounts of my uncle,

and trust the bearer will bring us good news, please God! My

sister, Madame de Lorraine, is so anxious about him that she

feels she must send over again. I cannot tell you, my dear

aunt, how much she thinks of you, and how anxious she is to

do you any service in her power. As for myself, if there is

anything that I can do, you have only to speak, and you will be

obeyed."[420]

After a long illness, Claude of Guise breathed his last on the 12th of

April, and was followed to the grave within a month by his brother,

Cardinal Jean, who died at Nogent-sur-Seine, on his return from Rome.

The Duke's funeral was solemnized in the Church of St. Laurent at

Joinville, with all the elaborate ceremonial common on these occasions.

Antoinette made a great point of Christina's attendance, and Anne

promised to do her best to gratify her aunt's wish in the matter.

"I shall be very glad," she wrote, "if it is possible for

Madame my sister to be present at the obsequies of my uncle--to

whom God grant peace!--and will do my utmost to effect this,

not only because of my own anxiety to see you and my cousins,

but because I would gladly give you pleasure."[421]

Accordingly, the two Duchesses, accompanied by the Count and Countess

of Vaudemont and several nobles, arrived at Joinville on Saturday, the

29th of June, to condole with the widow and attend the funeral rites

that were protracted during the next three days. Never was there a more

attached family than this of the Guises.

"I cannot tell you the grief I feel," wrote the Queen of

Scotland to her bereaved mother. "You know as well as I do that

I have lost the best father that ever child had, and am left

both orphaned and widowed."

An imposing monument, adorned with rich marbles and bas-reliefs of the

dead Prince's battles, was raised by Antoinette to her husband's memory

in the church at Joinville. In the centre the Duke and Duchess were

both represented clad in robes of state, kneeling with hands clasped

together, and a long Latin epitaph relating the hero's great deeds was

inscribed below, ending with the words:

"Antoinette de Bourbon, his wife, and her six sons, have

erected this tomb, in token of undying sorrow and love for an

incomparable husband and the best of fathers."[422]

V.

[Sidenote: SEPT., 1550] CHARLES THE BOLD'S REMAINS]

Charles V. had long cherished a wish to remove the bones of his

ancestor Charles the Bold from the church of St. Georges at Nancy,

where they had been buried after his defeat, and bring them to rest in

his daughter Mary's tomb at Bruges. At first Christina hesitated to

give her consent, fearing to arouse the resentment of her subjects, who

were proud of possessing this trophy of King René's victory, but the

urgent entreaties of her aunts at length induced her to yield, and,

after ascertaining that neither Vaudemont nor the States of Lorraine

had any objection to offer, she consented to her uncle's request, on

condition that the removal of the remains should be effected as quietly

as possible. Late in the evening of the 22nd of September, 1550,

three imperial deputies, the Bishop of Cambray, the Chief Justice of

Luxembourg, and the herald Toison d'Or, met the Provost and Canons of

St. Georges in the crypt of the collegiate church. A solemn requiem

was chanted, after which the tomb was opened and the bones, wrapt in

a white linen shroud, were reverently laid in a wooden casket and

committed to the charge of two friars. A gift of 100 gold crowns was

made to the church in the Emperor's name, and the precious casket was

placed on a chariot drawn by four black horses, escorted by a troop of

twenty men-at-arms. The little procession travelled the same night to

Metz, and thence across the frontier to Luxembourg. Bells were tolled

in all the towns and villages on their way, and the _De Profundis_ was

chanted wherever a halt was made, until on the 24th the casket was

safely deposited in the choir of the Cordeliers' church at Luxembourg.

Here Charles of Burgundy's bones were placed in the grave of John of

Luxembourg, the blind King of Bohemia, who fell at Crécy, until, nine

years later, they were finally laid to rest by his daughter's side in

the shrine of Our Lady at Bruges.[423]

When this pious act was safely accomplished, Christina set out with

Anne of Lorraine and the Count and Countess of Vaudemont to join the

imperial party at Augsburg. Charles, Philip, and Ferdinand, had been

attending the Diet in this city since July, and were joined there by

Mary of Hungary, who, however, was obliged to return to the Netherlands

on the 26th of September, owing to troubles on the French frontier.

Christina's presence was the more welcome. On the 30th of the same

month Philip and his uncle Ferdinand were riding in the fields near

Augsburg, when they noticed a cloud of dust on the highroad, and,

galloping off in this direction, met the Duchess of Lorraine and

her companions, with a large train of followers. Philip gallantly

escorted his cousin to the Emperor's lodgings, where she spent the next

three weeks. Her coming was the signal for a round of festivities.

While Charles and Ferdinand rode together in earnest converse, or

sat with closed doors debating public matters, Philip and a few

chosen friends--the Prince of Piedmont, Duke Adolf, Pescara, and Ruy

Gomez--spent the days with the Duchess and her ladies. Sometimes they

went hunting on the Bavarian plains, sometimes they danced or played

cards, and every evening they met at supper in Christina's rooms.[424]

[Sidenote: OCT., 1550] ROGER ASCHAM]

On the 16th of October a joust was held in the court of the Fuggers'

house, and the Emperor, with his niece and Duchess Anne, looked on from

the windows. Egmont and Vaudemont were judges, and Count Lalaing and

Floris de Montmorency won the prizes. The Cardinal of Trent entertained

the company at supper, and left the next day for Genoa to receive

Maximilian, the King of Bohemia, who had been sent for from Spain to

take part in the family conference. Three days later Philip gave a

tournament on a grander scale, in honour of the Duchess, and entered

the lists clad in ruby velvet and white satin, as he figures in the

portrait which Titian painted. This time Christina's presence seems to

have inspired him with unwonted prowess. He broke many lances, and won

a fine gold chain, which he presented to his cousin. She on her part

entertained the King of the Romans and all the knights who rode in the

jousts at a sumptuous banquet and ball, which ended in the Prince

presenting rings to all the ladies and receiving a kiss from each in

turn.

This festive evening marked the close of Christina's visit to Augsburg.

The next morning she set out for Nancy, "leaving the Court sad and

widowed," writes an Italian chronicler, "bereft of her presence,

and without a lady to amuse the Princes or entertain the Emperor's

guests." Philip escorted her for some miles on her journey, and took an

affectionate farewell of his favourite cousin, whom he never saw again

until he was the husband of Mary Tudor.[425]

Christina's route lay through the duchy of Würtemberg and along the

valley of the Neckar. At Esslingen, the free imperial city on the banks

of this river she met the new English Ambassador, Sir Richard Morosyne,

on his way to Augsburg. In his train was a young secretary called Roger

Ascham. He had been Lady Jane Grey's tutor, and had left his Greek

studies and pleasant college life at Cambridge with some reluctance,

but was keenly enjoying his first sight of foreign parts. The journey

up the Rhine in a fair barge with goodly glass windows afforded him

great pleasure. He gazed in admiration at the castles and abbeys

perched on the crags, and the vines laden with purple grapes that

grew in terraces along the banks, while the river at Spires--"broader

a great deal than the Thames at Greenwich"--made him realize for the

first time why the Greeks worshipped river-gods. In the Court chapel at

Brussels he caught a glimpse of Queen Eleanor,

"looking as fair and white as a dove in her embroidered linen

robe, with her ladies clad in black velvet with gold chains,

and white plumes in their caps, like boys rather than maidens."

Then, as he rode through Tongres, he met the Queen of Hungary posting

back from Augsburg, with only thirty courtiers in her train, "having

outridden and wearied all the rest, and taken thirteen days to do a

journey that men can scarce do in seventeen!" "She is a virago," the

young Englishman remarked, "never so well as when she is flinging on

horseback or hunting all day."[426] Now, at Esslingen, Ascham fell in

with another noble lady, "the Duchess of Milan and Lorraine, daughter

to the King of Denmark." Unlike Mary of Hungary, who posted so fast

that no ladies could keep pace with her, Christina was always attended

with a large retinue. Brantôme tells us that at Court she assumed a

state which rivalled that of the Queen of France herself. On this

journey she rode a white palfrey, and was followed by sixteen maids

of honour on horseback and four chariots filled with ladies, escorted

by a troop of 300 horse. Thirty-six mules and a dozen waggons, laden

with chamber-stuff, brought up the rear, and a great crowd of "rascals

belonging to her kitchen and stables came drabbling in the dirt on

foot." Roger looked with admiration at the fine horses with their rich

trappings, and was profoundly impressed by the tall stature and stately

bearing of the Duchess. "I have never seen a lady of her port in all my

life!" he exclaimed. His interest was heightened when he heard "that

she should once have married King Henry VIII., before my Lady Anne

of Cleves," and was told that she had now been with the Emperor at

Augsburg, "where she was thought by some to have been a-wooing to the

Prince of Spain."[427]

[Sidenote: AUG., 1550] DISCORD IN IMPERIAL FAMILY]

From Esslingen, Christina had intended to go to Heidelberg, on a

visit to her sister, but the unsettled state of affairs made her

presence necessary at home, and she hurried on to Nancy. The French

were once more busy with preparations for war, and grew every day more

insolent in their language. Even the Emperor's old ally, the Constable

Montmorency, who had been recalled to Court by Henry II., joined the

war party, and seemed to be as violent as the Guises. At the same time

fresh trouble was brewing in Germany. The Interim had proved very

unpopular. Magdeburg refused to accept the new edict, and Maurice of

Saxony, who was sent against the city, carried on the siege in so

half-hearted a manner that doubts of his loyalty were felt, while the

Marquis Albert kept away from Court and sulked, like Achilles of old,

in his tent. But the worst of all the Emperor's troubles were those

which had arisen in his own family.

Granvelle confessed to Paget at Brussels that it had not been easy

for Charles to obtain the recognition of his son as his successor in

Flanders, and that he foresaw this would be a far harder matter in

Germany. From the first, Philip's haughty manners and Spanish reserve

were bitterly resented by the Princes of the Empire, and Charles

realized with dismay how difficult it would be to obtain their consent

to the adoption of his son as coadjutor of the King of the Romans,

and his ultimate successor on the imperial throne. He had first of

all to reckon with Ferdinand. This monarch had always been on the

most affectionate terms with his brother, but was naturally indignant

when rumours reached him, through the Marquis Albert's servants, that

the Emperor intended to make Philip King of the Romans in his place.

In vain his sister Mary assured him that this idea had never been

entertained. His resentment was kindled, and he and King Maximilian

were prepared to resist stoutly any infringement of their rights.[428]

Everyone noticed how grave and pensive Charles appeared when he

entered Augsburg, and, although the prolonged family conferences which

took place were conducted in strict secrecy, rumour was busy with

conjecture, and the latest gossip from Augsburg was greedily devoured

at the French Court. At this critical moment Chancellor Granvelle,

who for twenty-five years had been Charles's most trusted Councillor,

died after a few days' illness at Augsburg. Friends and foes alike

expressed their grief in the warmest terms. The Constable wrote letters

of condolence to his widow, and Charles and Ferdinand came in person to

visit Madame Nicole, but found this excellent woman too much overcome

with grief to be able to speak. It was an irreparable loss to the

Emperor, and no one was better aware of this than himself. "My son,"

he wrote to Philip, "you and I have lost a good bed of down."[429]

Granvelle's son, Antoine Perrenot, the Bishop of Arras, succeeded

him as imperial Chancellor, but had neither his father's wisdom nor

experience, and was little fitted to cope with the gravity of the

situation.

Charles now sent for the Queen of Hungary, who hastened to Augsburg in

September; but even she could effect little.

"Queen Mary," wrote Stroppiana, the Duke of Savoy's Ambassador,

"is here to persuade the King of the Romans to accept the

Prince of Spain as coadjutor, but finds the ground very hard,

and by what I hear can obtain nothing."[430]

[Sidenote: DEC., 1550] THE EMPEROR'S ANXIETY]

After Mary's departure, Charles's difficulties increased every day, and

Christina tried in vain to pour oil on the troubled waters. She amused

Philip, and did her best to console the Emperor in his fits of profound

dejection. When she was gone he turned once more to Mary, and begged

her earnestly to come to his help.

"I had some hope," he wrote on the 6th of December, "that the

King our nephew might be persuaded to consent to the only

plan by which the greatness and stability of our house can

be maintained. But, as you will see by this letter, which my

brother gave me the day before yesterday, I begin to feel that

my hope was vain. And I think that in this he does me great

wrong, when I have done so much for him. My patience is almost

at an end, and I wish with all my heart that you were here, as

you can help me more than anyone else. So I beg you to hasten

your coming as soon as possible, and shall await your arrival

with the utmost anxiety."

To this letter, which had been dictated to his secretary, Charles added

the following postscript, written with his own gouty hand:

"I can assure you, my dear sister, that I can bear no more

unless I am to burst. Certainly I never felt all that the dead

King of France did against me, nor all that the present one is

trying to do, nor yet the affronts which the Constable puts

upon us now, half as keenly as I have felt and am feeling the

treatment which I have received from the King my brother. I

can only pray God to grant him good-will and understanding,

and give me strength and patience, in order that we may arrive

at some agreement, and that, if your coming does not serve to

convert him, it may at least give me some consolation.

"Your loving brother,

"CHARLES."[431]

On receiving this letter, Mary started for Augsburg without a moment's

delay. Attended only by the Bishop of Cambray and three ladies, the

brave Queen rode all the way from Binche to Augsburg in twelve days,

and arrived at five o'clock on the evening of New Year's Day, 1551.

[Sidenote: JAN., 1551] FAMILY CONFERENCES]

All through November and December the Emperor hardly left his room.

When he dined with the Knights of the Fleece on St. Andrew's Day, the

hall was heated like a furnace, and Marillac, the French Ambassador,

remarked that he looked so old and feeble he could not be long for this

world.[432] But on the Feast of the Three Kings he dined in public,

with his brother and sister, and his two nephews, Maximilian, who had

arrived from Spain on the 10th of December, and the young Archduke

Ferdinand. They were, to all appearances, a happy and united family,

and Stroppiana noted an evident improvement in the Emperor's spirits.

Roger Ascham watched these illustrious personages with keen interest.

He describes how Charles and Ferdinand sat under the cloth of state and

ate together very handsomely, "his Chapel singing wonderful cunningly

all dinner-time." "The Emperor," he remarked, "hath a good face,

constant air, and looked somewhat like the parson of Epurstone. He wore

a black taffety gown, and furred nightcap on his head, and fed well

of a capon--I have had a better from mine hostess Barnes many times."

Ferdinand he describes as "a very homely man, gentle to be spoken to of

any man," the Prince of Spain as "not in all so wise as his father."

But King Max was Roger's favourite--"a Prince peerless" in his eyes.

He is never tired of extolling this "worthy gentleman, learned, wise,

liberal, gentle, loved and praised of all."[433]

During the next few weeks prolonged conferences were held in the

Emperor's rooms. King Max from the first flatly refused to consent to

Philip's appointment as coadjutor with the King of the Romans, and

the quarrel waxed hot between them. Night and day Arras went secretly

to and fro with letters between Charles and Ferdinand. If the Queen

of Hungary was seen leaving the King of the Romans with flushed face

and flashing eyes, it was a sure sign that things were going badly

for the Emperor. If Ferdinand and his sons wore a joyous air, and

there were tokens of affection between them and Mary, Stroppiana and

Marillac were satisfied that all was going well.[434] As for Philip

and Max, it was easy to see that there was no love lost between them.

They met occasionally at night in Charles's rooms and exchanged formal

greetings, but never paid each other visits or attended Mass and took

meals together. The rivalry between the two Princes became every day

more marked.

"The King of Bohemia," writes Marillac, "is frank, gay, and

fearless, and is as much beloved by the Germans as Don Philip

is disliked. His Spanish education, haughty bearing, and

suspicious nature, all help to make him unpopular, although to

please his father he wears German clothes and tries to adopt

German customs, even with regard to drink, so that two or

three times he is said to have taken more than he could well

carry."[435]

Nor was Philip more fortunate in his attempts to distinguish himself in

the tilting. In the jousts held at Candlemas, Marillac reports that

all jousted badly, but Philip worst of all, for he never broke a single

lance; and Ascham remarks that the Prince of Spain "jousted genteelly,

for he neither hurt himself, nor his horse and spear, nor him that he

ran with." He redeemed his character to some extent, however, in a

tournament given a week later in the Queen's honour, and succeeded in

winning one prize; while the Prince of Orange and Archduke Ferdinand

were the heroes of the day. "And as for noble Max, he ran not at

all."[436]

A few days afterwards the Diet was prorogued, and Stroppiana told

Marillac that owing to Mary's influence a secret agreement had been

framed, by which Philip was to have a share in the administration of

imperial affairs, and that, when he succeeded his uncle as Emperor,

Maximilian should become King of the Romans. On the 10th of March an

agreement to this effect was drawn up by the Bishop of Arras, and

signed by all four Princes. On the same day Mary gave a farewell

banquet, after which Ferdinand took an affectionate farewell of his

brother, and went to Vienna with his sons.

"Noble Max," wrote Ascham, "goes to meet the Turk. I pray God

he may give him an overthrow. He taketh with him the hearts,

good-will, and prayers, of rich and poor."[437]

[Sidenote: APRIL, 1551] THE EMPEROR DISAPPOINTED]

On the 7th of April Mary left for Brussels, after giving an audience

to Morosyne, who saw that "she was in the dumps," although she

smiled two or three times and tried to hide her feelings.[438] By

this time she had probably realized how fruitless all attempts to

conciliate the German Princes would prove. The Electors unanimously

declined to sanction the agreement which had been the cause of so many

heart-burnings, and it remained a dead letter. The Archbishop of Treves

declared that there could only be one Emperor in Germany and one sun in

heaven. The Palatine, says Morosyne, like the wise old fox that he was,

replied that so important a question needed time for consideration, and

Joachim of Brandenburg vowed that he would never consent to a scheme

which would be odious to all Germany.[439] Philip returned to Spain at

the end of May, and the Emperor was reluctantly compelled to accept the

inevitable, and surrender the long-cherished hope that his son would

succeed to his vast empire.

VI.

While the eyes of all Europe were fixed on the imperial family at

Augsburg, Christina waited anxiously for news in her palace at Nancy.

She had sent two of her Italian secretaries, Innocenzo Gadio and

Massimo del Pero, to wait on the Queen of Hungary, with strict orders

to keep her informed of all that was happening. Gadio's cipher letters

have unluckily disappeared, but some of those addressed to him by

Niccolò Belloni have recently been discovered in a private library

near Pavia.[440] Belloni belonged to a good Milanese family, and had,

at his parents' entreaty, been retained by the Duchess in her service

when she left Italy. He had succeeded Benedetto da Corte as master of

her household, and followed Christina to Lorraine. Niccolò enjoyed his

mistress's complete confidence, and his letters to Messer Innocenzo

reveal all that was passing in her mind at this critical moment. On the

2nd of January, 1551, he writes:

"HONOURED FRIEND,

"Madame's page arrived a few days ago with your letters,

which were most anxiously expected and gratefully read by Her

Excellency. The next morning she received those which came by

Heidelberg, and yesterday those which you sent by the Flemish

servant, which gave Her Excellency still greater pleasure. She

deciphered them herself, and read them over several times. You

will continue to write as before, and I will tell you all I

hear from other quarters. Do not fail to report every detail

of the difficulties which are delaying the negotiations, using

Madame's ordinary cipher for this purpose.... I send this

messenger by the post to seek for news, so do not keep him at

Augsburg more than a day, even if Monsignore d'Arras' letter

is not ready, as another courier will be sent in four or five

days. I have received Don Ferrante's letters, and should be

glad to know if my letters for Fanzoni and Trissino are gone

to Milan. Tell Signor Badoer [the Venetian Ambassador] that I

will not fail to satisfy his curiosity, but it will take some

time to obtain the desired information and will require great

caution.... Send me some fine writing-paper, please--very fine,

I repeat, because it is for Madame."

[Sidenote: FEB., 1551] BELLONI'S LETTERS]

Christina's Milanese servants evidently carried on a correspondence

with their friends at home through the imperial messengers who were

sent from Augsburg to the Viceroy, and the Princess of Macedonia

constantly despatched packets to Milan and Mantua by the same channel,

while the Duchess herself often wrote to Don Ferrante regarding the

payment of her dowry and questions affecting the city of Tortona.

A week later Christina sent a Lorraine gentleman, Monsieur de

Saint-Hilaire, to convey her salutations to the King of Bohemia, on his

arrival at Augsburg, and Belloni took this opportunity to beg Gadio to

be diligent in reporting everything he heard, for Madame's benefit,

assuring him that Her Excellency read his letters again and again,

and believed implicitly in their contents. On the 12th of February he

repeated the same orders:

"It would be well if you would write fuller particulars of the

great matter in hand, above all whatever you hear of the angry

disputes and quarrels which have arisen between the Prince and

the King of Bohemia, including all the bad language which they

use--in fact, everything that is said on the subject. It will

all be treated as strictly confidential, and I for my part know

that the King will not be governed by the Prince, and will use

rude and contemptuous words, as you may imagine! These are the

things that Her Highness wishes to learn from your letters....

I may possibly take a flight to the Court of France, so, if

you wish to write to me privately, address your letters to

the Princess of Macedonia, who will keep them safely for me,

especially if they come from Italy. Your letters of the 29th of

January and 3rd of this month have arrived, and are, as usual,

most welcome, and Her Excellency agrees with you that nothing

has really been arranged. Once the business for which you were

sent to Augsburg is settled, Her Excellency thinks you may as

well return, and be sure that you bring plenty of letters for

Her Excellency from all the world, and a whole waggon-load of

news! I am sorry to hear that your horse has hurt his foot and

you have had to sell him cheap. You must procure another, and

Madame will pay for it all. Only let us have the truth about

these negotiations!"

But the Duchess changed her mind again, and Innocenzo was desired to

stay at Augsburg as long as the Queen was there, even if the King and

his sons had left, in order that she might hear all that her aunt had

to tell of these important matters. Niccolò's last letter to Augsburg

is dated the 13th of March, and contains a reminder to Gadio to bring

the writing-paper for Madame, and to make inquiries about a new method

of coining money at the Imperial Court, which had excited the Princess

of Macedonia's curiosity.[441] The flight to the French Court which

Niccolò meditated in March, 1551, was taken in the company of the Count

of Vaudemont, who went to Blois to pay his respects to the King and

Queen, and discover if there were any truth in the sinister report

that Henry II. was planning the conquest of Lorraine. But he only met

with civil speeches, and found the Court on the eve of a journey to

Brittany, to meet the Dowager Queen of Scotland, who was coming over to

see her child and visit her aged mother at Joinville. So the Count was

able to allay his sister-in-law's alarms, and, instead of the dreaded

threats of invasion, brought back a proposal from the King that her son

should be affianced to one of his little daughters. The offer excited

some surprise, considering the strained relations that existed between

Henry II. and Charles V., but Christina returned a courteous reply,

and promised to lay the matter before the States of Lorraine.[442] For

the present she felt that she could breathe freely and give herself up

unreservedly to the enjoyment of a visit which she was expecting from

her sister Dorothea.

[Sidenote: MAY, 1551] THE PALATINE'S VISIT]

Since the restoration of peace in Germany, the Elector Palatine had

devoted his time and money to the improvement of his ancestral castle

at Heidelberg. His natural love of building found expression in the

noble Renaissance court, with the lovely oriel and grand Hall of

Mirrors, where we may still read "Frau Dorothea's" name, and the arms

of the Three Kingdoms by the side of the Palatine's lion and the badge

of the Golden Fleece. But the passion for travel and adventure was

still strong in the old Palsgrave's breast, and when the last stone

had been placed on the lofty bell-tower he and his wife set out, with

a great company of courtiers and ladies, for Lorraine. They sailed

down the Rhine to Coblenz, and, taking horse, rode through Treves

and Metz, where Christina met them, and the whole party proceeded to

Pont-à-Mousson and the Count of Vaudemont's castle at Nomény. Here they

attended the christening of the Countess's daughter, and Frederic stood

sponsor, while his wife was proxy for the French Queen, after whom the

child was named. After a week of festivities, the party went on to a

hunt at Condé, the Duke's fair château in the forest on the banks of

the Moselle, and killed five stags. Hubert, who accompanied his master

and gives every detail of the journey, relates how the Palatine, tired

with the day's sport, accepted a seat in the Duchess's chariot, and how

his companion, Count Jacob von Busch, being a big man, weighed down the

carriage on one side, much to the amusement of Dorothea, who laughed

till the tears ran down her cheeks. But heavy rains had made the roads

almost impassable, and presently the wheels caught in a rut and the

chariot was upset. The ladies were covered with mud, and Dorothea's

face was badly scratched; but she made light of the accident, and only

laughed the more as, leaving the lumbering coach in the ditch, they

mounted horses to ride to Nancy. At the gates of the city they were met

by the young Duke Charles, a handsome boy of eight, who lifted his cap

with charming grace, and, springing to the ground, embraced his uncle

and aunt, and rode at their side, conversing in a way that amazed the

Germans.

"We all wondered," writes Hubert, "at the beauty and wisdom of

the boy, who is indeed remarkably intelligent, and has been

trained by his lady mother in all knowledge and courtesy."[443]

[Sidenote: MAY, 1551] TOO LITTLE BEER]

His sisters, Renée and Dorothea, received the guests at the palace

gates, "both lovely little maidens," says Hubert, "only that the

youngest is lame and cannot walk, for which cause her uncle and aunt

embraced her the more tenderly." All the fatigues of the journey were

forgotten in the delights of the week which the travellers spent at

Nancy. The Duchess prepared a new pastime for each day, and masques,

jousts, and dances, followed each other in gay succession. On the last

day Christina took her guests to the beautiful grassy vale known as

the Ochsenthal. It was a lovely May morning, and a banquet was served

in a green bower on the banks of the stream. Suddenly a merry blast

of bugles rang out, and, while huntsmen and dogs chased the deer,

two parties of horse galloped up, and, charging each other, crossed

swords and fired guns. "It might have been an invasion of the Moors!"

exclaims Hubert, who enjoyed the surprise as much as anyone. At sunset

the warriors returned to the palace, where the fairest maidens of the

Duchess's Court crowned the victors with roses, and danced with them

till morning. The next day Frederic and Dorothea made the Duchess and

her children and servants handsome presents of gold chains and rings

and brooches, and Christina, not to be outdone, gave Hubert a massive

silver tankard, begging him to keep it in remembrance of her, and

continue to serve the Palatine and her sister as well in the future as

he had done in the past. After this we need not wonder at the glowing

pages in which the honest secretary praises the delicacy of the viands,

the choice flavour of the wines set before the guests, and the polished

manners of the Court of Nancy.

"Indeed," he adds, "some of our Germans complained that

there was too little beer, because people here do not sit

up drinking all night, and go to bed like pigs, as we do at

Heidelberg."[444]

The young Duke and his sisters accompanied the guests to Lunéville,

where they spent Whitsuntide together and took their leave, the

little ladies shedding many tears at parting from their aunt. Even

then Christina could not tear herself from her sister, and the next

day, as the Palatine and his wife were dining at one of the Duke's

country-houses on their route, the Duchess suddenly appeared, riding up

the hill. Hubert and his comrades ran out to welcome her, waving green

boughs in their hands, and greeted her with ringing cheers, and they

all sat down to a merry meal. Dorothea begged her sister to accompany

her to Alsace; but the Duchess could not leave home, and the travellers

pushed on that night to Strasburg, and on the 1st of June reached

Heidelberg, where they were greeted by a gay peal of bells from the

new-built tower. It was the last visit that either Frederic or his wife

ever paid to Lorraine. When the sisters met again, Christina was an

exile and a fugitive, and had lost son and home, together with all that

she loved best on earth.

FOOTNOTES:

[375] Calmet, ii. 1276, iii. 47; Granvelle, "Papiers d'État," iii. 152.

[376] Granvelle, iii. 159-163.

[377] Calendar of Spanish State Papers, viii. 195; Granvelle, iii. 226.

[378] Lanz, ii. 478-484.

[379] State Papers, Record Office, Henry VIII., x. 490.

[380] Granvelle, iii. 206-225.

[381] Granvelle, iii. 235, 236.

[382] Bouillé, i. 155; Pimodan, 88.

[383] Balcarres Manuscripts, ii. 53, 60, iii. 102.

[384] Calendar of State Papers, xxi. 592, 642; Calendar of Spanish

State Papers, viii. 431.

[385] Granvelle, iii. 237.

[386] A. Hallays, 40.

[387] Calmet, ii. 1276, 1281; Pfister, ii. 203.

[388] Balcarres Manuscripts, ii. 156.

[389] Calendar of State Papers, xxi. 2, 121; Balcarres Manuscripts, ii.

87.

[390] N. Ratti, "La Famiglia Sforza," ii. 86.

[391] Brantôme, "Œuvres," xii. 114.

[392] Calendar of Spanish State Papers, viii. 501.

[393] Balcarres Manuscripts, ii. 65; iii. 105, 114.

[394] Calendar of State Papers, xxi. 2, 172, 187.

[395] Brantôme, iii. 164.

[396] Pimodan, 95; Bouillé, i. 160.

[397] Hallays, "La Ville de Nancy," 22; C. Cournault, "Ligier-Richier,"

34.

[398] Gachard, ii. 338; L. Haüsser, i. 603; G. Voigt, "Albert von

Brandenburg." i. 164.

[399] Granvelle, iii. 265.

[400] Gachard, "Voyages de Charles V.," ii. 350-355; R. Ascham,

"Works," ii. 267; "Travail and Life of Sir T. Hoby," 7.

[401] Bucholtz, vi. 298, 300.

[402] Voigt, ii. 7.

[403] Ascham, iii. 32; Voigt, i. 197.

[404] Bulletins de la Commission d'Histoire, xii. 156; Calendar of

State Papers, Edward VI., 17.

[405] Gachard, ii. 357.

[406] H. Lepage, "La Ville de Nancy," 44; Calendar of State Papers,

Foreign, Edward VI., i. 16.

[407] T. Hoby, "Memoirs," 6.

[408] Calendar of State Papers, Edward VI., i. 25.

[409] Granvelle, iii. 335.

[410] Gachard, ii. 377.

[411] A. de Ruble, "Le Mariage de Jeanne d'Albret," 243-246; Bouillé,

204.

[412] Brantôme, "Œuvres," xii. 115.

[413] Schäfer, iv. 472; Bucholtz, vii. 572.

[414] Granvelle, iii. 207.

[415] Lodge, "Illustrations," i. 183; Calendar of the Manuscripts of

the Marquis of Salisbury, i. 110; Voigt, i. 197.

[416] Henne, viii. 373.

[417] Gachard, "Retraite de Charles V.," i. 72; Manuscript 8,625, f.

235, Bibliothèque Nationale, Paris.

[418] Gachard, ii. 389.

[419] Maitland, "Miscellany," i. 219; A. de Ruble, "La Jeunesse de

Marie Stuart," 104.

[420] Pimodan, 367; Bouillé, 349; Bibliothèque Nationale, F.F. 20,467,

f. 39; Gaignières Manuscripts, 349, f. 7.

[421] Pimodan, 375; Bibliothèque Nationale, F.F. 20, 468, f. 9.

[422] Bouillé, i. 227.

[423] Calmet, ii. 1296, iii. 423; Granvelle, iii. 430.

[424] Gachard, ii. 424; Bulletins de la Commission d'Histoire, série 2,

xii. 189.

[425] Guazzo, 730; Gachard, ii. 424.

[426] Ascham, ii. 245-257.

[427] _Ibid._, ii. 260.

[428] Bucholtz, vi. 458.

[429] Granvelle, i. 2-6, iii. 448, 451.

[430] Bulletins, etc., série 2, xii. 188.

[431] Lanz, iii. 11.

[432] P. de Vaissière, "Vie de Charles de Marillac," 174, 178.

[433] Ascham, ii. 268.

[434] Bulletins, série 2, xii. 188.

[435] Vaissière, 186-188.

[436] Ascham, ii. 280; Gachard, ii. 853.

[437] Ascham, ii. 278.

[438] Calendar of State Papers, Foreign, Edward VI., i. 85.

[439] Bucholtz, vi. 467.

[440] These extracts from manuscripts preserved in the Biblioteca of

Zelada, near Pavia, are published by the kind permission of their

owner, Count Antonio Cavagna-Sangiuliani.

[441] Manuscript vii., Biblioteca di Zelada.

[442] Calendar of State Papers, Foreign, Edward VI., i. 79; Granvelle,

iii. 522.

[443] Hubertus Thomas, 464.

[444] Hubertus Thomas, 467; L. Haüsser, i. 625.

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