BOOK XI

CHRISTINA AT BRUSSELS

1553-1559

I.

Christina was at Brussels on the memorable day when the Emperor set

foot once more on his native soil. She heard the shouts of joy which

rent the air, and joined with the Queens in the welcome which greeted

him on the threshold of his palace. Early in January she had left

Heidelberg and travelled safely down the Rhine and through the friendly

states of her Cleves cousins to Brussels. Here she occupied the suite

of rooms where she had lived before her second marriage, and to a large

extent resumed her former habits. She spent much of her time with her

aunts and the Duchess of Aerschot, and renewed her old friendship with

Countess d'Aremberg and other ladies of the Court. The deepest sympathy

was felt for her by all classes, and when Charles addressed the

States-General on the 13th of February, and alluded to the treachery of

the French in carrying off the young Duke of Lorraine and driving his

mother out of the realm, his words provoked an outburst of tumultuous

indignation.[481]

[Sidenote: JAN., 1553] CHRISTINA'S SUITORS]

Through her brother-in-law Vaudemont she still maintained close

relations with Lorraine, while the Cardinal kept her informed of all

that concerned her son, and the boy's own letters satisfied her that

he was well and happy at the French Court. But although Charles shared

all the advantages enjoyed by the King's children, and soon became a

general favourite in the royal family, it was bitter for the Duchess

to feel that her only son was growing up, in a foreign land, among the

hereditary foes of her race. The restoration of peace between Charles

and Henry was the only means by which she could hope to recover her

lost child, and this became the goal of all her efforts during the six

years that she spent in exile.

The Widow of Milan had been courted by Kings and Princes, and hardly

was Christina settled at Brussels before she was assailed by fresh

offers of marriage. Henry, King of Navarre, whose accomplished wife

had died soon after her daughter's marriage, asked the Emperor for

his niece's hand, but his proposals met with small favour. Far more

serious was the courtship of Albert of Brandenburg, who felt this to

be a favourable moment for renewing his old suit. "No one," as Thomas

Hoby wrote, "had done the Emperor worthier or more faithful service"

in the siege of Metz, and was better entitled to reward. His claims

were strongly supported by the Palatine, who invited the Marquis to

Heidelberg to confer with the other German Princes on the best means

of recovering Metz. Albert himself not only aspired to the Duchess's

hand, but to the Duke of Alva's post of Commander-in-Chief, and boasted

that once Christina was his bride he would easily recover her father's

kingdoms.

"It is supposed," wrote Morosyne from Brussels on the 20th of

February, "that the Marquis will marry the Duchess of Lorraine

and have Alva's place. The Palsgrave would fain it were so,

in order that, if the Marquis married his wife's sister, he

might help him to recover Denmark; for besides that a slender

title is apt to set such a one to work, he should, by being

married to the Emperor's niece, and afterwards coming, when his

uncle died, to the duchy of Prussia, be able easily to trouble

Denmark. The Marquis doth much desire it, for that the Duke of

Holstein has been and is a great suitor to the Duchess, who

was once so nigh marrying the Marquis Albert's sister that the

contracts were drawn up and put into writing, but broke it off

upon sight of the Duchess of Lorraine. The Palsgrave would

rather any did marry with her than the Duke of Holstein, for

that his brother, King Christian, keeps his wife's father in

prison. And the Emperor, it is held certain, will help it, in

order that he may by this means trouble Denmark, which he has

never had leisure to trouble himself."[482]

[Sidenote: JUNE, 1553] PHILIP HOBY'S AUDIENCE]

Whatever her relatives may have thought of the Marquis's suit,

Christina herself never considered it seriously, and told the

Palatine plainly that such a marriage was out of the question. The

Marquis vented his anger on the Emperor, and left Heidelberg in high

displeasure, without taking leave of the Palatine or anyone else. Hot

words passed between him and Maurice, and these two Princes, who had

once been the closest friends, were henceforth bitter enemies. Albert

returned to his life of raids and plunder, and when, soon afterwards,

he was placed under the ban of the Empire, Maurice led an army against

him. A fiercely-contested battle was fought on the 9th of July at

Sievershausen, in which Albert was completely routed and Maurice

lost his life. The Marquis was deprived of fortune and patrimony,

his ancestral home of Plassenburg was burnt to the ground, and after

leading a roving life for some years, and wandering from one Court to

another, he died in the house of his brother-in-law, the Margrave of

Baden, on the 8th of January, 1557. So in exile and poverty this brave

and brilliant adventurer ended his career, before he had completed his

thirty-fifth year.[483]

While the Palatine was holding vain conferences at Heidelberg, and the

Marquis and Duke Adolf were still quarrelling for the Duchess's hand,

she herself was endeavouring to open negotiations with the French King

through Bassompierre and Vaudemont. But nothing would induce Henry

to give up Metz, and in April war was renewed with fresh vigour. The

young Prince of Piedmont, who succeeded the unpopular Alva in command

of the imperial army, won a series of victories, and razed the forts

of Thérouenne and Hesdin to the ground. But the Emperor was too ill

to take part in the campaign or even to give audiences. Sir Philip

Hoby, who now succeeded Morosyne, actually believed him to be dead,

until De Courrières came to dine with his English friends, and assured

them, on his honour as a gentleman, that he had seen the Emperor

alive that morning.[484] Upon this Sir Philip's brother Thomas, who

had just arrived from Paris, where he had been spending the winter

in translating Castiglione's "Cortegiano," was sent to see his old

Augsburg friend, the Bishop of Arras, and beg for an audience. At

length, on the 8th of June, the Englishmen were admitted into the privy

chamber, and found the Emperor sitting up, with his feet on a stool,

"very pale, weak, and lean, but nothing so ill as they had believed."

His eye was lively, his speech sensible, and his manner very friendly

and agreeable. But, although he expressed an earnest wish for peace, he

declared that the French demands made this quite impossible.[485]

[Sidenote: SEPT., 1553] ACCESSION OF MARY]

A month later an unexpected event produced a change in the Emperor's

fortunes. King Edward VI. died, and, after a vain attempt on

Northumberland's part to set Lady Jane Grey on the throne, Catherine of

Aragon's daughter Mary succeeded peaceably to the throne. Her accession

was hailed with joy at the Imperial Court, and on the Feast of St.

Bartholomew the Regent celebrated the event by giving a banquet, to

which the English Ambassadors were invited. "It was such a dinner,"

writes Hoby, "as we had seldom seen in all our lives, and greater good

cheer or entertainment than Her Grace gave us could not be devised."

Mary was in high spirits that evening. She toasted the Ambassadors,

conversed with them after dinner for more than an hour, and told

Morosyne laughingly that his French could not be worse than her

Italian. Sir Philip sat next to the Duchess of Lorraine, and reminded

her of the memorable morning, fifteen years before, when he brought

the German Court painter to take her portrait.[486] Since then much

had happened. King Henry himself, the great painter Holbein, René of

Orange, and Francis of Lorraine, were all gone, and she had lost home

and state and had seen her only son snatched from her arms. Yet she was

still beautiful and fascinating, and counted almost as many suitors as

of old. Adolf of Holstein wooed her with a constancy which no coldness

could repel, and if the wild Marquis had been forced to renounce all

hope of winning her hand, another hero, the young Prince of Piedmont,

was ready to lay his laurels at her feet. But Christina remained the

same, calm and unmoved, and was an interested and amused spectator of

the matrimonial plans which now formed the all-absorbing topic in the

family conclave.

Charles quickly realized the importance of securing the new Queen's

hand for his son. As soon as he heard of Edward's death, he sent orders

to his Ambassador at Lisbon to delay drawing up the marriage contract

which had been agreed upon between Philip and Eleanor's daughter,

Maria of Portugal, and wrote to his son, setting forth the superior

advantages of the English alliance. Philip replied dutifully that, as

his cousin the Queen was twelve years older than himself, his father

would be a more suitable husband, but added that he was ready to obey

the Emperor's will in all respects.[487]

On the 20th of September Charles wrote from Valenciennes, where he was

directing military operations from his litter, to the English Queen.

After explaining that he was too old and infirm to think of marriage,

and had solemnly vowed after the Empress's death never to take a second

wife, he offered her the dearest thing he had in life--his own son. He

then proceeded to point out the great advantages of the proposed union,

while at the same time he advised Mary to observe the utmost caution,

being "well aware of the hatred with which the English, more than any

other nation, regard foreigners." Mary's own mind was soon made up. In

spite of protests from her subjects and remonstrances from the French

King, she was determined to marry her cousin. On the 30th of October

she sent for the Imperial Envoy, Renard, and, kneeling down before the

Blessed Sacrament in her chapel, she said the _Veni Creator_, and took

a solemn vow to wed the Prince of Spain.[488]

[Sidenote: JAN., 1554] CARDINAL POLE AT BRUSSELS]

The most friendly letters were now exchanged between the two Courts.

The holy chrism for Mary's coronation was sent from Brussels, with

venison and wild-boar for her table. Charles gave his future daughter

magnificent tapestries and jewels, and Mary of Hungary sent the Queen

a yet more precious gift, Titian's portrait of Philip, telling her

that, if she stands at some distance from the canvas, it will give

her a good idea of the Prince, only that he is older and more bearded

than he was when the artist painted it three years ago. The Regent

took care to add that she could only lend the Queen the picture on

condition that it should be returned "when the living man joined her."

In reply, Mary begged her good aunt to pay her a visit; but the Regent

excused herself, owing to the Emperor's ill-health, and promised to

come and see her later on, it might be in the Prince's company. The

same cordial invitation was extended to the Duchess of Lorraine, who

sent her new _maître d'hôtel_, Baron De Silliers, to London in April,

1554, to congratulate the Queen on her marriage. Mary made Christina

a present of a fine diamond, which De Courrières was desired to give

her, and when, on the 20th of July, Philip landed at Southampton, and

the wedding was celebrated in Winchester Cathedral, the happy spouse

sent costly jewels to the Emperor and the two Queens, and a beautiful

emerald to her dear cousin the Duchess.

In January Cardinal Pole, the Papal Legate, came to the monastery of

Diligam, near Brussels, with proposals of peace from the Pope, on his

way to congratulate Queen Mary on her accession, and help to restore

Catholic rites in the kingdom. Pole was known to be averse to the

Spanish marriage, and Charles had put every obstacle in the way of his

journey to England. On his arrival he gave him a very cold reception,

and the Cardinal complained to the Pope that the Emperor and Arras

could not have used greater violence, unless they had taken a stick to

drive him back.[489] The Regent and the Duchess of Lorraine, however,

were much more friendly when he dined with them the next day, after

attending Mass in the royal chapel. Mary told him that no one wished

for peace more earnestly than herself, seeing how terribly her poor

people of the Netherlands had suffered from the war, and Christina

spoke to him of her son with tears in her eyes. When the Cardinal went

on to Fontainebleau, he saw the young Duke, and was able to give him

his mother's messages. But he found Henry II. still less amenable than

Charles, and returned to Brussels convinced that his mission was a

failure as far as the hope of peace was concerned.

Before the end of April the French King invaded Hainault, at the head

of a large army, and took the strong citadel of Marienburg. Namur was

only saved by the promptitude of Charles, who once more took the field,

although he could no longer mount a horse, and showed all his old

courage in this his last campaign.

After an indecisive battle at Renty, the French retired with heavy

loss, spreading famine and desolation in their track. One act of

vandalism for which Henry was condemned, even by his own captains, was

the destruction of Mary of Hungary's beautiful palace of Binche, with

its famous gardens and treasures of art. The Queen received the news

with equanimity, saying that she was proud of being the object of the

French King's vindictiveness, and glad the world should know that she

was the Emperor's devoted servant.

"As for the damage which has been done," she wrote to Arras, "I

do not care a straw. I am not the woman to grieve over the loss

of things transitory, which we are meant to enjoy as long as

we have them, and do without when they are gone. That, upon my

word, is all the regret I feel."[490]

In the autumn Christina made another fruitless attempt to open

negotiations through Vaudemont, who after the death of his first

wife, Margaret of Egmont, was induced by the Cardinal of Lorraine to

marry the Duke of Nemours's daughter. This Prince came to Brussels

in November to inform the Emperor and the Duchess of his marriage,

and, as might be expected, met with a very cold reception at Court.

But, in spite of his French alliance, he remained scrupulously loyal

to Christina and her son, and complained to his sister Anne that at

Brussels he was reproached for his French sympathies, while in Paris he

was looked on with suspicion as an Imperialist. So hard was it to be an

honest man in those troublous times.[491]

[Sidenote: SEPT., 1554] A GAY COURT]

II.

While the war dragged on its weary course, and Mary and Christina

vainly tried to bring it to an end, on the other side of the Channel

the new King of England and his spouse were holding high festival.

They came to London in September, and remained there through the

winter, trying to win the love of their subjects by a series of

popular displays and festivities. Tournaments were held at Whitehall,

hunting-parties were given at Windsor and Hampton Court, and a

succession of distinguished guests travelled from Flanders to pay

homage to the royal pair. Philip's favourite, Ruy Gomez, and the Duke

and Duchess of Alva, arrived from Spain, Ferrante Gonzaga, the Prince

of Orange, and the Grand Equerry Boussu, came over from Antwerp during

the autumn.[492] On the 20th of November Cardinal Pole at length

crossed the Channel; four days later he was received at Whitehall by

the King and Queen in person, and crossed the river in the royal barge,

to take possession of his own house at Lambeth. He was soon followed

by Emanuel Philibert, who had lately succeeded to the barren title of

Duke of Savoy on his father's death, and had been made a Knight of the

Garter. Earlier in the summer he had paid a brief visit to London,

where his white, red, and green banners of Savoy made a fine show in

the Abbey on St. Peter's Day; but as his military duties rendered his

presence in Flanders imperative, his Ambassador, Stroppiana, came to

Windsor in October, to be invested with the Garter[493] as proxy for

his master.

It was not till Christmas Eve that the Duke himself landed at Dover,

after a very rough passage, and made his way to Whitehall, where

Philip and Mary received him with great honour, and showed him all the

sights of London. On the 7th of January the Lord High Admiral took him

by water to see the great guns at the Tower, and on St. Paul's Day

he accompanied the King and the Cardinal in state to the Cathedral

for the patronal feast. A procession of 160 priests bearing crosses,

walked round the churchyard, with the children of Paul's School and

the Greyfriars, singing "Salve, Festa Dies!" and passed in through

the great west doors. After Mass a state banquet was held, with great

ringing of bells, and bonfires blazed in all the streets of London

throughout the night.[494]

[Sidenote: JAN., 1555] A ROYAL GODMOTHER]

Emanuel Philibert's visit revived the rumour of a marriage between him

and the Princess Elizabeth, which the Emperor had suggested some months

before. Whether from policy or genuine regard, Philip had espoused his

sister-in-law's cause and refused to allow Mary to send her abroad

or keep her away from Court. The Duke of Savoy was a pleasant and

good-looking Prince, whose martial appearance and genial manners made

him very popular in England. But Elizabeth herself quite declined to

listen to this proposal, saying that she would never marry a foreigner,

and, since there now seemed good hope of the birth of an heir to the

crown, the question of the succession was no longer of the first

importance. Something, however, must be done to pacify the Duke, who

complained bitterly of the Emperor's neglect, and, seeing little chance

of recovering Savoy, asked the King for the viceroyalty of Milan, which

Ferrante Gonzaga, on his part, refused to surrender. Philip could think

of no better plan to gratify his cousin and retain his services than to

give him the hand of the Duchess of Lorraine, a Princess whom he was

known to regard with great affection.[495]

Accordingly the King and Queen sent pressing invitations to Christina,

begging her to come to England as soon as possible. Before she could

comply with their request, she had to keep an old engagement to be

present at the christening of Count Egmont's infant daughter, which

took place on the evening of the 19th of January. The Queen of England

had graciously consented to be one of the godmothers, while the Duchess

of Lorraine was the other, and the Palatine Frederic stood godfather to

his kinswoman's little daughter. Mary wrote to the Duchess of Aerschot,

begging Anne to represent her on this occasion, and sent a costly gold

cup containing forty angels to her godchild by the new Ambassador, Sir

John Masone. The Palsgrave, not to be outdone, sent the child a diamond

cross, and another one, set with rubies, diamonds, and emeralds, to the

mother. Anne and Christina were both present at the christening, which

was attended by all the Court, "everything," wrote Masone, "being very

richly ordered, the supper and banquet right stately, and Her Majesty's

cup so walked up and down, from man to woman, and woman to man, as I

dare answer few were there that did not go full freighted to bed."

Sir John further told the Countess in what good part her request

to make her daughter a Christian woman had been taken by his royal

mistress, who would willingly have done the same in person, had the

distance not been so great, and Sabina sent her most humble thanks to

the Queen, saying that, as she already had one daughter called Mary,

she had decided to name the infant Mary Christina, after her two

godmothers.[496]

[Sidenote: APRIL, 1555] CHRISTINA'S GOOD WISHES]

When this function was over, Christina began to prepare for her journey

to England, but the weather was so tempestuous that she did not cross

the Channel until the first days of March. She rode from Dover, by way

of Canterbury, to London, where the King and Queen received her in

the most cordial manner, Philip made no secret of his affection for

his cousin, the only woman in his family with whom he had ever been

intimate, and Mary, in the first flush of her wedded happiness and

in the proud expectation of soon being a mother, welcomed Christina

warmly. Unluckily, we have no particulars of the Duchess's visit to

this country, over which she might have reigned herself as Queen. We

know that she was present with the rest of the Court at the great joust

held on Lady Day in the tilting-yard at Whitehall, when Philip and a

band of knights, armed with falchions and targets, and clad in blue

and yellow, rode out against two other troops in red and green, and

some 200 lances were broken.[497] But the only record that we have of

this her first visit to England is a letter which she wrote to Mary on

returning to Flanders. She thanked the Queen for the great honour and

kindness which she had shown her, and commended the captain of the ship

in which she sailed, who, as Her Majesty would doubtless learn, had

rendered her notable service on this troublesome passage:

"I will say no more," she adds, "except to regret that I am

no longer in Your Majesty's presence to be able to render you

some small service in return for all the goodness which I have

received at your hands. I beg God, Madame, to send you good

health and long life, and give you a fine boy, such as you

desire.

"Your very humble and obedient cousin

and servant,

"CHRESTIENNE.

"A la Royne."[498]

This letter bears no date, but the Duchess certainly left London before

the King and Queen went to Hampton Court on the 4th of April, to spend

Easter and prepare for the happy event which all England was anxiously

expecting. She was at Antwerp with her aunt a month later, when, on

the 3rd of May, "great news came over the seas." A messenger from the

English ships in the port brought the Regent word that the Queen of

England had been "brought to bed of a young Prince," upon which all

the guns in the harbour were fired, and Mary ordered the big bells in

the Tower to be rung, and sent the English sailors a hundred crowns to

drink the royal infant's health. "I trust in God," wrote Sir Thomas

Gresham, "that the news is true." The Emperor was more incredulous,

and summoned Masone to his bedside at 5 a.m. the next morning, to know

what he thought of the matter, but soon satisfied himself that the

news was false.[499]

The Savoy marriage, which Philip was so anxious to bring about, also

ended in smoke. During Christina's visit, the matter was brought

forward and eagerly urged both by the King and Queen. Charles was no

less anxious for the marriage, and Mary of Hungary proposed to appoint

the Duke, Governor of the Low Countries when she resigned the office.

The plan would have been very popular in Flanders, where the Duchess

was beloved by all classes, and was warmly supported by Egmont and

Orange. On the 1st of May, Badoer, the Venetian Ambassador at Brussels,

announced that the marriage contract had already been drawn up by De

Praet, and that the Duke had started for Italy, disguised as a German,

and only attended by one servant, to arrange his affairs in Piedmont

before the wedding.[500]

[Sidenote: MAY, 1555] DUKE OF SAVOY'S MARRIAGE]

The Venetian's news was apparently premature, but a fortnight later a

Piedmontese noble, Count Avignano, came to London to consult Philip as

to the marriage and arrange further details on his master's behalf.

He talked freely at table to the French and Venetian Ambassadors,

Noailles and Michieli, saying that the Emperor had offered his master

the government of the Netherlands with the hand of Madame de Lorraine,

an arrangement which he for his part regretted, thinking that the Duke

would be more likely to recover his dominions if he married in France.

But, since the friendship between his lord and the Duchess was so

great, he saw no hope of any other alliance, and the marriage was, in

fact, considered by the Emperor and all his family to be practically

settled.[501]

Emanuel Philibert, like many others, evidently felt the power of

Christina's fascination, and enjoyed a large share of her intimacy. But

he does not seem to have shown any great eagerness for the marriage,

whether it was that, as Avignano said, it would be a bar to the

recovery of his States, or whether he recognized the Duchess's own

insuperable objection to matrimony.

When, towards the end of May, a party of English Commissioners met

the French and Imperial deputies at Marck, a village near Calais, to

treat of peace, an offer was made by the French to give Henry II.'s

sister Margaret to the Duke of Savoy. The Imperial deputies expressed

a doubt if this were possible, as the Duke's word was already pledged;

but Cardinal Pole replied that the Prince was quite free, and ready

to agree to any proposal by which he could recover his realm. These

negotiations, however, were soon broken off, and on Philip's return

to Brussels in September the old scheme of the Lorraine marriage was

revived with fresh ardour. When the Duke of Savoy returned from Italy

in August, the Regent made him attend the meetings of the Council, and

treated him in all ways as her future successor, hoping by this means

to obtain his consent to her wishes. But both Emanuel Philibert and

Christina remained of the same mind, and neither Philip's entreaties

nor Mary of Hungary's angry reproaches could alter their resolution.

The Duke pleaded poverty as an excuse, lamenting his inability to

offer his wife a home and station worthy of her rank, and was evidently

determined to sacrifice his affections to political expediency,

although, as the French Ambassador reported, "he still made love

through the window to Madame de Lorraine."[502]

III.

Charles V.'s intention to abdicate his throne had long been declared.

For many years he had looked forward to the time when he should lay

down the burden of public affairs and retire from the world, to end his

days in some peaceful cloister. The increasing infirmities under which

he groaned, his inability to attend either camp or council, and finally

the death of his mother, Queen Joanna, in April, 1555, all helped to

hasten the execution of his resolve. Only the continuation of the war

and the absence of his son still made him hesitate.

[Sidenote: SEPT., 1555] PHILIP LEAVES ENGLAND]

The same indecisive warfare as before was carried on through the

year. The Prince of Orange, who now held the chief command, succeeded

in keeping the foe at bay, and built the citadels of Charlemont and

Philippeville for the defence of the frontier. But everyone was

heartily tired of the campaign, and both parties gladly availed

themselves of the opportunity afforded by an exchange of prisoners, to

renew negotiations in the autumn. Christina once more exerted herself

in this direction, and Vaudemont, who came to Brussels in October to

take leave of the Emperor, was employed to make fresh overtures to

the French King. But many months passed before any conclusion was

reached.[503]

Charles had always hoped that his sister would remain at her post when

he left the Netherlands, feeling how invaluable her help would prove to

Philip. But Mary was inflexible on this point. In a noble letter which

she wrote at the end of August, she reminded him that fifteen years

before she had begged to be released from her arduous post in order to

devote herself to the care of her unhappy mother, and that, now this

privilege could no longer be hers, she wished to spend the rest of her

life in Spain with her sister, Queen Eleanor.

"And however great," she adds significantly, "my affection for

the King my nephew may be," in Badoer's graphic phrase, "he

hates and is hated by her"--"Your Majesty will understand that

at my age it would be very hard to begin learning my ABC over

again. A woman of fifty, who has held office twenty-four years,

ought, it seems to me, to be content to serve one God and one

Master for the rest of her life."[504]

There was nothing more to be said, and Charles agreed to Philip's

wish that for the present the Duke of Savoy should be appointed

Lieutenant-Governor of the Low Countries. At length Philip succeeded

in tearing himself from the arms of his sorrowful Queen, promising

to be back in a fortnight or three weeks. From her palace windows at

Greenwich, Mary waved her last farewells to the King, as he sailed

down the Thames. He for his part was nothing loth to leave his fretful

and melancholy wife, and was satisfied that she would never bear him a

child.

On the 8th of September he reached Brussels, and went straight to see

his father in the Casino, near the Louvain gate of the park, where

he was spending the hot weather. Charles embraced his son tenderly,

and after an hour's conversation Philip went on to sup with Queen

Mary and Christina on their return from hunting. On the 17th and 18th

he attended the Requiem Masses held in S. Gudule for the late Queen

Joanna, and afterwards joined in a grand hunting-party given by the

Regent in his honour.

[Sidenote: OCT., 1555] THE EMPEROR'S ABDICATION]

The nobles now flocked to Brussels to be present at the Emperor's

abdication. The Prince of Orange arrived from the camp near Liége,

and his young wife, Anne of Egmont, was hospitably entertained by the

Duchess of Aerschot. Friday, the 25th of October, was the day fixed for

the great ceremony. On this afternoon, at three o'clock, the Emperor

left the Casino with Philip and the Duke of Savoy, and rode to the

palace on his mule. An hour later he entered the great hall, hung with

the tapestries of Gideon's Fleece, wearing his mourning robes and the

collar of the Order, and leaning on the Prince of Orange's arm. He was

followed by Mary of Hungary, Philip, and the Duke of Savoy, who took

their places on the daïs at the Emperor's side, while the Knights of

the Fleece, the great nobles and Ambassadors, occupied seats below. The

deputies, over a thousand in number, who thronged the hall, rose to

their feet to receive the Emperor, and then sat down to hear the chief

Councillor, Philibert of Brussels, deliver a speech, explaining the

reasons for His Majesty's abdication. Then Charles himself addressed

the vast assembly. In moving words he recalled the day, forty years

before, when, a boy of fifteen, he had been declared of age by his

grandfather, the Emperor Maximilian, and glanced briefly at the long

record of wars and journeys, and the other chief events of his reign.

Finally he commended his successor to them, asking them to serve his

son as well as they had served him, and begging his loyal subjects to

pardon him for any injustice which he might unwittingly have done them.

Tears rolled down the great Emperor's cheeks as he spoke these last

words, and Sir Thomas Gresham, who was present, says that there was not

a dry eye in the whole assembly.

Christina was present on this memorable occasion. In contemporary

prints she is represented standing by the side of the Regent's chair,

listening with breathless attention to every word that fell from her

uncle's lips. She saw the pathetic scene between the father and son,

when Charles, raising Philip from his knees and clasping him in his

arms, gave him the investiture of the Provinces, and, turning to the

deputies, in a broken voice asked them to excuse his tears, which

flowed for love of them. And she listened with still greater emotion to

the touching words in which Mary begged the Emperor and the States to

forgive whatever mistakes she had made out of ignorance or incapacity,

and thanked them from the depth of her heart for their unfailing love

and loyalty. Her speech produced a fresh burst of tears, after which

Charles thanked his sister for her long and faithful services, and

Maes, the Pensionary of Antwerp, bore eloquent testimony to the undying

love and gratitude which the States felt for the Queen who had governed

them so well.

There were still many formalities to be gone through, many farewells

to be said, before Charles could lay down the sovereign power. On

the day after his abdication, the Archduke Ferdinand, his favourite

nephew, arrived with affectionate messages from his father, who found

it impossible to leave Vienna as long as the war with the Turks lasted.

The next day he went hunting with the King, Mary, and Christina, and

dined with them and Eleanor. On the 3rd of November he left Brussels

again after all too short a visit, as Charles wrote to his brother.

Another guest who took leave of the Emperor in the same week was Edward

Courtenay, Lord Devonshire. This young nobleman of the blood royal had

been exiled from England lest he should marry Elizabeth, and had been

so often seen in the palace during the last few months that rumour

said he was going to wed Madame of Lorraine. Now he came to thank her

for the "gentle entertainment" which she had shown him, and bid her a

reluctant farewell before he left for Italy. In the following spring

another old friend, Adolf of Holstein, came to Brussels and took leave

of the Emperor. The Danish Prince, hearing that all idea of the Savoy

marriage was abandoned, took this opportunity to make a last attempt to

win Christina's hand. But not even the Duke's constancy could induce

her to change her mind, and he went away disconsolate.[505]

[Sidenote: FEB., 1556] DEATH OF THE PALATINE]

A fresh sorrow awaited her in the death of her brother-in-law, the

Elector Palatine, who breathed his last at Alzei, in the Lower

Palatinate, on the 26th of February, 1556. The fine old man was in

his seventy-third year, and had been tenderly nursed all through a

long illness by his wife. Three weeks before his death Dorothea sent

for his nephew and successor, Otto Heinrich, who remained with him

to the end, and brought his body to Heidelberg. Here he lay in state

for three days in the Court chapel, after which his remains were borne

down the castle slopes by eight noblemen, and laid with his forefathers

in the church of the Holy Ghost. By order of the new Elector, he was

buried with Lutheran rites. Dorothea and Countess Helene followed

on foot with a long train of nobles and students of the University,

bearing lighted tapers, and German hymns were sung by the Canons and

school-children.[506]

Christina's first impulse was to hasten to her widowed sister, but

neither the Emperor nor his sisters would allow her to leave the

Netherlands before their departure, saying that she was as dear and

indispensable to them as a daughter.[507] She was present at the Casino

in the park on the 16th of January, when Charles resigned the kingdoms

of Spain and Sicily and his dominions in the New World to Philip, and

she accompanied Mary to Antwerp when Philip held his first Chapter of

the Fleece. Among the new Knights elected at this meeting were William

of Orange, Philip, Duke of Aerschot, and Christina's old friend Jean De

Montmorency, Sieur de Courrières, whose whole life had been spent in

the Emperor's service, and who had deserved well of Philip by helping

to arrange his marriage with Mary Tudor.[508]

On the 5th of February, 1556, the long-protracted peace negotiations

were brought to a happy conclusion, and a five years' truce was signed

at the Abbey of Vaucelles, near Cambray, by Lalaing on Philip's part

and by Coligny on that of Henry. Both parties were to retain their

conquests, and the chief prisoners on both sides were to be released.

On Lady Day the French Admiral brought the treaty to be confirmed by

the King at Brussels, and was received by Philip in the palace. By an

unlucky chance, the great hall in which the reception took place was

hung with tapestries representing the defeat of Pavia and surrender of

Francis I. This wounded the vanity of the French lords, and the King's

jester, Brusquet, who had accompanied Coligny, determined to have his

revenge on the haughty Spanish Prince. So the next morning at Mass

in the Court church, when Philip was in the act of taking his oath

on the Gospels to keep the truce, Brusquet suddenly raised a cry of

"Largesse!" and, taking a handful of French crowns from a sack which

his valet carried, flung them to the crowds who had collected in the

great hall adjoining the chapel. The King looked round in surprise at

Coligny, who stood dumbfounded, while men, women, and children, rushed

to pick up the coins on the floor, and had to be warned off by the

archers' pikes. The King was about to ask angrily by what right the

French did largesse in his palace, when both Queen Mary and Madame de

Lorraine burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter, in which Philip

joined so heartily that he had to cling to the altar to save himself

from falling.

[Sidenote: MAY, 1556] LAST FESTIVITIES]

This absurd incident was related to Charles when, on the following

Sunday of _Pâques-fleuries_, Coligny went to visit him in the Casino.

"Well, Brusquet," he said to the jester, "how are you? I hear you

have been doing me fine largesse with your crowns." "Sire," replied

Brusquet, dropping on one knee, "you take the words out of my mouth in

condescending to notice a worm like myself." And the poor fool went

home to boast of his interview with the great Emperor to the end of his

life.[509]

A grand tournament was held in the park at Brussels to celebrate the

conclusion of the truce, and Egmont distinguished himself above all

competitors by his prowess. But a quarrel arose between Philip and his

aunt, Mary of Hungary, who complained of the disrespect with which her

nephew and his Spanish courtiers treated her, saying that, although she

had laid down the Regency, she expected to be treated with the honour

due to a Queen. She retired to her own domain at Turnhout, but had her

revenge a few weeks later, for the States proved so unwilling to grant

the aids demanded by the King that Philip was forced to send Arras to

beg for his aunt's help. Mary consented to return as soon as she had

despatched her most urgent private affairs, and so invaluable was her

influence with the Council, that Philip joined his father in entreating

her to remain at Brussels during his absence in England. This, however,

Mary quite refused to do, saying that the Duke of Savoy would no doubt

prove an excellent substitute.[510]

The King and Queen of Bohemia, whom Charles was very anxious to see

before his departure, and whose journey had been repeatedly delayed,

at length reached Brussels on the 18th of July. Their presence was

the signal for a last series of festivities. There were jousts on

the Grande Place, banquets in the hôtel-de-ville, hunting-parties at

Groenendal in the forest of Soignies, and suppers at the Villa Laura,

where Mary entertained her nephews and nieces at an open-air concert.

King Max was in high spirits. He made great friends with the Venetian

Badoer, and frankly avowed his dislike of the Spaniards, saying, with a

ringing laugh, that he was glad to hear the English had taught them a

lesson or two. The visit was not without its political intention, and

Maximilian succeeded in persuading his uncle to consent to Ferdinand's

entreaty, and retain the imperial title for the present, in order to

avoid any dispute on the question of the succession.[511]

When his daughter and her husband left Brussels, on the 8th of August,

Charles felt himself a free man. At half-past four in the afternoon he

set out for Ghent, after receiving the farewells of the chief nobles

and Bishops. Many were in tears, but the Emperor remained calm and

serene until he rode out of the gates, escorted for the last time by

his faithful archers. Then, turning round, he took a last long look

at the city towers and wept bitterly. "Everyone about him was in

tears," says Badoer, "and many wept when he was gone."[512] Christina

accompanied her aunts to Ghent a few days later, and went on at the

end of the month with the Queens and Emperor to Zeeland, to wait for

a fair wind. On the 15th of October Charles embarked at Flushing, and

his sisters followed on another ship. Two days later an easterly breeze

sprang up and the fleet set sail. Christina stood on the shore till

the ship which bore the great Emperor from his native land dropped

below the horizon. Then she retraced her steps sorrowfully to join her

children at Ghent.

[Sidenote: OCT., 1556] FRUSTRATED WISHES]

IV.

When her uncle and aunts were gone, Christina felt that there was

nothing more to keep her at Brussels. She had already thought of

retiring to her dower city of Tortona, but the castle was occupied by a

Spanish garrison, and while the war lasted the Lombard city was hardly

a safe place. This being the case, she asked Philip's leave to take up

her residence at Vigevano, the summer palace of the Sforzas, which the

Duke had bequeathed to her, but was told that this house was required

for the Viceroy's use. After the Palatine's death she was seized with

a longing to join Dorothea, and proposed to go to Heidelberg, and then

on to Lorraine, in the hope that, now peace was signed, the French

King would allow her son to enjoy his own again. But there were more

difficulties in the way than she had anticipated.[513]

Simon Renard and the other delegates to the conference at Vaucelles

were especially charged to include the Duke of Lorraine's restoration

among their demands; but the French, while professing the utmost

friendship for both the Duchess and her son, pointed out that her

guardianship would expire in another year, and that the Regent

Vaudemont and the Guises, who were the Duke's nearest kinsmen, agreed

to his residence at the French Court. In vain Renard and Lalaing

protested at the strange kindness shown to the Duchess in detaining her

son. This only led to a long wrangle, which almost caused the rupture

of peace negotiations, and eventually no mention was made of Lorraine

in the articles of the truce.

In May Christina's alarm was aroused by an intimation from the French

Court that the King was going to Nancy to celebrate his daughter

Claude's wedding with the Duke, and occupy the capital of Lorraine.

Fortunately, Vaudemont opposed this measure, saying that as Regent he

had sworn never to give up his post until his nephew was of age, and

begged the King to allow Charles to return to Nancy and take possession

of his State before his marriage.[514] This unexpected firmness on

Vaudemont's part produced the desired effect. Henry's journey to

Lorraine was put off for a year, and at the Duchess's urgent request

the Cardinal of Lorraine obtained the King's leave to bring the boy

to meet her at the Castle of Coucy, near his own house at Péronne.

But when Philip was asked to give the Duchess permission to cross the

frontier, he made so many irksome conditions, that Henry withdrew his

promise, and the long-desired meeting was again deferred. Christina

was cruelly disappointed, and could only take comfort from Vaudemont's

assurances that before long her son would be free from control and able

to decide for himself.[515]

[Sidenote: OCT., 1556] MARY'S JEALOUSY]

Philip on his part was extremely anxious to keep the Duchess at

Brussels. As Brantôme tells us, the King not only cherished great

affection for his cousin, but relied implicitly on her tact and wisdom,

and, in compliance with his entreaties, she consented to remain at the

palace and do the honours of his Court.[516] Her popularity with the

nobles made her presence the more desirable, while the King himself

found her company far more to his taste than that of the faded and

fretful wife who awaited him in England. Every post brought bitter

reproaches and passionate prayers from the unhappy Queen, whose hopes

of her lord's return were doomed to perpetual disappointment. Already

more than a year had passed since he had left England, and there still

seemed no prospect of his return. First the peace conferences, then

the King of Bohemia's visit and the Emperor's departure, were pleaded

as excuses for these prolonged delays. When the fleet that bore the

Emperor to Spain was seen off Dover, the Admiral who visited His

Majesty on board, brought back messages to say that the King would

shortly cross the Channel. On hearing this, Mary's spirits rose, and it

was only by Philip's express desire that she refrained from going to

meet him at Dover. In October the royal stables and equerries arrived,

but Philip himself wrote that the war which had broken out in Italy

between Alva, the Viceroy of Naples, and Pope Paul IV., compelled him

to return to Brussels. Then Mary broke into a passion of rage mingled

with sobs and tears, and shut herself up in her room, refusing to see

any visitors. The dulness of the Court had become intolerable; there

were no fêtes and few audiences, and the Ambassadors with one accord

begged to be recalled. The Queen's ill-temper vented itself on all who

approached her presence, and even in public she occasionally gave way

to paroxysms of fury.[517] Suspicions of her husband's fidelity to

his marriage vows now came to increase her misery. When she heard of

Philip going on long hunting-parties with the Duchess of Lorraine, and

dancing with her at masques, she was seized with transports of rage,

and, rushing at the portrait of her husband which hung over her bed,

was with difficulty restrained from cutting it to pieces.[518]

[Sidenote: DEC., 1556] THE DUCHESS OF PARMA]

Meanwhile a rival to Christina appeared at Court in the person of

the King's half-sister Margaret, Duchess of Parma. This Princess,

the illegitimate daughter of Charles V. and Margaret Van Gheynst,

a beautiful maiden in the Countess Lalaing's service, was born at

Oudenarde in 1522, and brought up under the eye of the Archduchess

Margaret. At thirteen she was married to Alessandro de' Medici, Duke

of Florence, with whom she led a miserable life until this worthless

Prince was murdered by his cousin in 1537. Her second union, with

Ottavio Farnese, Pope Paul III.'s grandson, proved little happier.

Ottavio was an intractable boy of thirteen when he married her in

November, 1538, and the quarrels of the young couple fill pages of the

Emperor's correspondence in the archives of Simancas. After the Duke's

return from the expedition to Algiers, a reconciliation was effected,

and Margaret bore a son, who became the famous captain Alexander of

Parma. But the Farnese were always a thorn in the Emperor's side, and,

by joining with his foes at a critical moment, involved him in the

gravest disaster of his life. Now harmony was restored in the family

circle, and when the war with Paul IV. broke out, Philip secured

Ottavio's alliance by giving him the citadel of Piacenza. Margaret and

her young son came to the Netherlands to pay their respects to the King

and thank him for this mark of his favour. They arrived at Christmas,

in the depths of the severest winter that had been known for many

years. The Scheldt was frozen over at Antwerp, and the Court was busy

with winter sports, in which Philip and Christina took an active part,

playing games and sleighing in the park, and attending a masked ball

given by Count Lalaing on the ice.[519]

The Duchess of Parma was received with due honour at Court, and was

cordially welcomed by Christina, who had known her as a child. A

handsome woman of thirty-five, she resembled her Flemish mother more

than her imperial father, and bore few traces of her Habsburg origin.

She had none of Christina's distinction and refinement, while her

manners were too haughty to please the Flemish nobles. But she had a

keen eye to her own interests, and the atmosphere of deception and

intrigue in which her married life had been spent had taught her to

adapt herself to circumstances. She contrived to make herself agreeable

both to Philip and Christina, with whom most of her time was spent. The

new Venetian Ambassador, Soranzo, paid his respects to the two ladies

on his arrival, and found both of them very friendly and pleasant. The

Duchess of Lorraine, as Badoer had frequently remarked, was always

particularly cordial to the Venetian Signory, to whom her first

husband, the Duke of Milan, owed so much. At the same time the Queen

of England, anxious to show civility to her husband's family, sent Sir

Richard Shelley to give the Duchess of Parma a sisterly welcome, and

invite her to come to London.[520]

In the midst of the Christmas festivities, news reached Brussels

of a treacherous attempt of the French, under Coligny, to surprise

Douay. Fortunately the plot was discovered in time; but the truce was

broken, and every day fresh incursions were made by the French, which

naturally produced reprisals. The rupture was complete, and, in his

anxiety to secure the help of England in the coming struggle, the King

at length crossed the Channel, and joined Mary at Greenwich on the 21st

of January, 1557. Political exigencies had done more to hasten his

return than all his wife's prayers and tears, but in her joy she recked

little of this, and guns were fired and _Te Deums_ chanted throughout

the realm. Before leaving Brussels, Philip had made arrangements for

the two Duchesses to follow him in a few days. Their society, he felt,

would help to dispel the gloom of Mary's Court, and Margaret's coming

would allay any jealousy which Christina's visit might excite. Another

and more important motive for his cousin's presence in England at

this moment was his anxiety to revive the old scheme of a marriage

between the Princess Elizabeth and the Duke of Savoy. Mary's state of

health made her sister's marriage a matter of the highest importance,

and the new quarrel with France had put an end to the Duke's hopes in

that quarter. As both the French and Venetian Ambassadors constantly

affirmed, Emanuel Philibert was the only foreign Prince whom the

English would tolerate, and Christina herself told Vaudemont that

she was going to England, by the King's wish, to bring back Madame

Elizabeth as the Duke of Savoy's bride.[521]

[Illustration: PHILIP II. (1554)

By Jacopo da Trezzo (British Museum)]

[Illustration: MARY, QUEEN OF ENGLAND (1554)

By Jacopo da Trezzo (British Museum)]

[Illustration: MARGARET OF AUSTRIA

DUCHESS OF PARMA

By Pastorino]

[Illustration: ANTOINE PERRENOT

CARDINAL GRANVELLE

By Leone Leoni

_To face p. 412_]

[Sidenote: FEB., 1557] CHRISTINA AT WHITEHALL]

The King had a calm passage to Dover, but the ladies were less

fortunate, for an equinoctial gale sprang up when they were halfway

across the Channel.

"The Duchesses," wrote Philip's secretary, Jean de Courteville,

"had to dance without music between Dover and Calais, and the

results were such as are commonly the case with travellers

unaccustomed to the sea. The great festivities we are having

here this Lent will grieve them the less."[522]

But if the passage was disagreeable, nothing was lacking in the

kindness of their reception. The Queen sent her litter to meet them

at Dover, with chariot and hackney horses for their suite, and at

Gravesend, Lady Lennox and Lady Kildare were waiting to conduct them

in the royal barge to Whitehall. Here Philip received them at the

water-gate, and led them up the steps into the great hall, where Mary

welcomed her guests. The King and Queen who had only arrived from

Greenwich the day before rode in state through the city, with the Lord

Mayor carrying the sceptre at the head of the guilds and crafts of

London, while a salute was fired from the Tower and bells rang from all

the churches.

Both the Duchesses were lodged in the Palace of Westminster, Christina

in rooms on the ground-floor, looking on the gardens, and Margaret in

an apartment on the upper floor, commanding a view of the Thames.[523]

Soon after their arrival another visitor was brought by the Bishop

of London to see Their Majesties--an Envoy from the Czar of Muscovy,

who was lodged in Fenchurch Street, as the guest of the Company

of Muscovite Merchants. Englishmen and Spaniards, Lorrainers and

Italians, alike looked with curious eyes at this stranger from the

shores of the Polar Sea, who was clad in robes of Oriental splendour,

and whose turban glittered with gems. He brought the Queen a present

of magnificent sables from the Czar, and saluted her by bowing his

whole body down and touching the ground with his hand. In spite of his

strange clothes and barbarous language, he was a cultivated person, as

keen to see the sights of London as Christina herself. One day he dined

with the Lord Mayor in gorgeous attire, another he attended Mass at

Westminster and saw St. Edward's shrine, with the relics which had been

fortunately preserved when the Abbey was plundered.[524]

[Sidenote: APRIL, 1557] ST. GEORGE'S FEAST]

After spending a fortnight at Whitehall, Philip and Mary took their

guests to spend Easter at Greenwich. On Maundy Thursday the King and

Queen washed the feet of a number of poor beggars, and blessed the

cramp rings, which were as much prized in Spain and Flanders as in

England. Easter Day witnessed fresh balls and banquets, dog and bear

fights, bull-baiting and horse-races, after which a large hunting-party

was given in the park for the Duchess of Lorraine's amusement. On

the 22nd of April the royal party returned to Whitehall for St.

George's Feast. High Mass was celebrated in the Abbey by the Bishop

of Winchester, and all the Knights of the Garter, in their mantles of

royal blue, walked in procession round the inner court of the palace,

while the Queen and her guests looked on from a window on the garden

side. The King and Queen and all the Knights of the Order attended

vespers in the Abbey, after which the Muscovite Envoy came to take

leave of Their Majesties, and delivered a long farewell speech, which

was translated by an interpreter into English and Spanish, expressing

his hope that these mighty Sovereigns might live to see their

children's children. Six English ships were in readiness to escort the

stranger across the Northern seas, and prevent him falling into the

hands of the Norsemen, who were jealous of English interference with

the trade of Muscovy.

On Sunday the Queen gave a grand banquet, and appeared resplendent in

cloth of gold and jewels. Christina sat on her right, and Margaret,

with her little son, on the King's left hand. The next morning the

Duchess of Parma left for Italy, but Christina, at Philip's entreaty,

remained in London another ten days. She was already very popular with

the English, and made friends with Lord Arundel, Lord Pembroke, and

several other nobles and ladies at Court, while her splendid robes and

jewels, her numerous suite and fine horses, excited general admiration.

In the midst of the Court fêtes, she found time to visit several

shrines and places of interest, and, while the King was holding the

Chapter of the Garter on St. George's Day, went by water to the Tower,

and was shown its treasures and antiquities. But in one respect her

visit proved a failure. Mary refused to entertain any idea of the Savoy

marriage, and would not even allow Christina a glimpse of Princess

Elizabeth, who was kept at Hatfield in strict seclusion during her

visit. What was worse, the Duchess's presence revived all the Queen's

jealousy, and, in spite of the King's protests, Christina found it

prudent to hasten her departure. All manner of stories about Mary's

dislike of the Duchess found their way to the French Court, and King

Henry had many jokes with Soranzo on the subject, and told him he heard

that the Queen flew into a frantic passion when the King led out his

cousin to dance at Greenwich.[525]

Philip did his best to atone for his wife's ill-humour, and, when

Christina expressed a wish to visit Ghent on her return, wrote to ask

the Duke of Savoy to see that she and her daughters were well lodged

and entertained in the old Prinzenhof. On the 11th of May the Duchess

wrote a formal letter of thanks to the Queen from Dover, acknowledging

the attentions which she had received from Her Majesty and all her

subjects, and on the 8th of June she sent her a second letter from

Ghent, on behalf of the widow and daughter of Sir Jacques de Granado,

a Brabant gentleman who had been Equerry to Henry VIII. and Edward

VI., and had met his death by accident during the Duchess's visit.

As he rode into the privy garden at Whitehall before the Queen's

chariot, his bridle broke, the horse shied violently, and dashed his

rider's head against the wall. Sir Jacques was killed on the spot, and

buried at St. Dunstan's in the East two days afterwards with a great

display of torches and escutcheons. On Christina's recommendation, the

Queen granted a pension of £50 to the widow, and saw that she and her

children were amply provided for.[526]

[Sidenote: JUNE, 1557] THE VICTORY OF ST. QUENTIN]

From Ghent the Duchess went to meet her sister Dorothea at Jülich, the

Court of the Duke of Cleves and the Archduchess Maria. The reformed

faith was now firmly established in the Palatinate, and Dorothea's

well-known Lutheran leanings were a great source of annoyance to her

own family. "The Electress Dorothea," wrote Badoer from Brussels in

1557, "is known to be a Lutheran and against the Emperor, and is as

much hated here as her sister Christina is beloved." From his retreat

at St. Yuste, Charles begged Philip to invite Dorothea to settle at

Brussels, "lest one of our own blood should openly forsake the faith."

When the Princess declined this proposal, Philip and Arras desired

Christina to use her influence to bring her sister to a better mind.

But Dorothea resisted all these attempts obstinately, and went back to

Neuburg to live among her husband's kindred and worship God in her own

way.[527]

On the 1st of June England declared war against France, and Philip

returned to Brussels, having accomplished the object of his journey.

Here he was joined by the Duchess of Lorraine and the Count of

Vaudemont, who came to Flanders to try and reopen peace negotiations.

But the moment, as Arras told him, was singularly inopportune, since

Philip was armed to the teeth and had England at his back. On the 11th

of August the King left Brussels for the camp before St. Quentin,

where he arrived just too late to claim a share in the brilliant

victory gained by the Duke of Savoy and Egmont over the French on St.

Lawrence's Day. The Constable Montmorency, the Marshal St. André,

Admiral Coligny, and the Rhinegrave, were among the prisoners made on

this memorable day, together with all the guns and fifty-six colours.

The news of this decisive victory was celebrated with great joy both

in Brussels and across the Channel. _Te Deum_ was sung in St. Paul's,

and the loyal citizens of London lighted bonfires and sat up drinking

through the livelong night; while in Paris the King and Queen went to

Notre Dame in sackcloth, and Henry II. carried the Crown of Thorns

in procession from the Sainte Chapelle. In the lonely monastery far

away on the heights of Estremadura, the news sent a thrill to the

great Emperor's heart, and he asked eagerly in what route his son

was marching on Paris. Had Philip followed this course, had he, in

Suriano's words, "taken Fortune at the flood," he might have brought

the campaign to a triumphant close. But, with characteristic timidity,

he confined himself to capturing St. Quentin, and then returned to

Brussels, throwing away such an opportunity as comes but once a

lifetime.[528]

FOOTNOTES:

[481] Henne, x. 13.

[482] Calendar of the Manuscripts of the Marquis of Salisbury, i. 110;

Lodge, "Illustrations," i. 183.

[483] Voigt, ii. 207.

[484] Calendar of State Papers, Edward VI., Foreign, 282.

[485] "Travail and Life of Sir T. Hoby," 85; Calendar of State Papers,

Edward VI., Foreign, 288.

[486] Calendar of State Papers, Mary, Foreign, 8; T. Hoby, 102.

[487] Granvelle, iv. 113, 119.

[488] Mignet, "Retraite de Charles V.," 69, 70.

[489] M. Haile, "Life of Reginald Pole," 432.

[490] Henne, x. 132; F. Juste, "Marie de Hongrie," 204.

[491] Granvelle, iv. 307; Venetian Transcript, Record Office, 99.

[492] Gachard, iv. 19.

[493] Ashmole, "The Order of the Garter," 383.

[494] Machyn, "Diary," 66, 79, 81.

[495] Granvelle, iv. 341; F. de Noailles, "Ambassades," v. 42.

[496] Calendar of State Papers, Mary, Foreign, 150.

[497] Machyn, 82, 84.

[498] Record Office Manuscripts; State Papers, Foreign, vi. 351 (see

Appendix).

[499] Venetian Calendar, vi. 1, 69; Calendar of State Papers, Mary,

Foreign 165; J. W. Burgon, "Life of Sir Thomas Gresham," i. 168.

[500] Record Office Manuscripts, Venetian Transcripts, 1555, No. 99.

[501] Noailles, v. 74, 80.; Venetian Calendar, vi. 1, 151.

[502] Noailles, v. 191; Venetian Calendar, vi. 1, 211; P. Friedmann,

"Les Dépêches de Michieli," 42.

[503] Calendar of State Papers, Mary, Foreign, 189.

[504] Granvelle, iv. 469.

[505] Venetian Calendar, vi. 603.

[506] L. Haüsser, i. 630.

[507] Venetian Calendar, vi. 197.

[508] De Reiffenberg, "Histoire de la Toison d'Or," 451.

[509] G. Ribier, "Lettres et Mémoires d'État," ii. 634; T. Juste, 94;

Venetian Calendar, vi. 369.

[510] Venetian Calendar, vi. 421, 443, 457; T. Juste, 101; Gachard,

"Retraite," etc., i. 41.

[511] Lanz, iii. 709; Venetian Calendar, vi. 537.

[512] Venetian Despatches, 90 (Record Office).

[513] Venetian Calendar, vi. 197, 362.

[514] Granvelle, iv. 574, 577.

[515] _Ibid._, iv. 701.

[516] Brantôme, xii. 114.

[517] P. Friedmann, 254-267; Noailles, v. 355, 362.

[518] Friedmann, 56; Noailles, "Affaires Étrangères: Angleterre," xix.

(Bibliothèque Nationale).

[519] Venetian Calendar, vi. 863.

[520] _Ibid._, vi. 914, 932.

[521] Venetian Calendar, vi. 1015, 1080.

[522] Kervyn de Lettenhove, "Relations des Pays-Bas avec l'Angleterre,"

i. 67.

[523] Gachard, iv. 25.

[524] Machyn, 130-134.

[525] Venetian Calendar, vi. 1154; Kervyn de Lettenhove, i. 68.

[526] Machyn, 135, 136; Calendar of State Papers, Mary, Foreign, 305,

314.

[527] Granvelle, v. 86-113.

[528] Venetian Calendar, vi. 1287; Machyn, 147; Gachard, "Retraite,"

etc., 176.

Christina of Denmark, Duchess of Milan and Lorraine, 1522-1590 · 第 11 / 15 章