Chapter XVI: Book IX: Christina, Regent of Lorraine (2)

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.

_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.