BOOK VIII

CHRISTINA, DUCHESS OF LORRAINE

1541-1545

I.

[Sidenote: JAN., 1477] KING RENÉ]

The ducal house of Lorraine, into which Christina had now married, was one of the oldest and proudest in Europe. The duchy took its name of Lotharingia from Lothair, a great-grandson of Charlemagne, who reigned over a vast kingdom stretching from the banks of the Scheldt and Rhine to the Mediterranean. After this monarch's death, his territories became the object of perpetual contention between the German Empire and France, and were eventually divided among a number of Counts and Barons who owned the Emperor or the French King as their suzerain. Godfrey of Bouillon, the leader of the first Crusade, was one of many illustrious Princes who reigned over Lorraine; but Gerard d'Alsace, who died in 1046, was the ancestor of the ducal house to which Christina's husband belonged.[317] From him descended a long line of hereditary Princes, who were loyal vassals of France and took an active part in the wars against England. Raoul, the founder of the collegiate church and Chapter of St. Georges at Nancy, was killed fighting valiantly at Crécy, and his son John was taken prisoner with the French King by the Black Prince at Poitiers. Duke John's second son, Ferry, Count of Vaudemont and Joinville, fell at Agincourt. In 1444 this Prince's grandson, Ferry II., the representative of the younger branch of the House of Lorraine, married Yolande, daughter of René of Anjou, King of Provence, Jerusalem, and Sicily, and Duke of Lorraine in right of his wife, Isabella, the heiress of Duke Charles II. Yolande, whose sister, Margaret of Anjou, married Henry VI., became Duchess of Lorraine after the death of her nephew in 1473, and united the two branches of the family in her person. But she renounced the sovereignty in favour of her son, René II., who still bore the proud title of King of Sicily and Jerusalem, although, as the English Ambassador, Wotton, remarked, he had never seen either the one or the other. René had a fierce struggle for the possession of Lorraine with Charles of Burgundy, who defeated him completely in 1475, and entered Nancy in triumph. But in January, 1477, King René recovered his duchy with the help of the Swiss, and Charles was defeated and slain in a desperate battle under the walls of Nancy.[318]

Ten years later René married Philippa of Egmont, sister of Charles, Duke of Guelders, and, together with his admirable wife, devoted the rest of his life to the welfare of his subjects and the improvement of the capital. During his reign the ducal palace, founded by his ancestors in the fourteenth century, was enlarged and beautified, and the neighbouring church and convent of the Cordeliers were built. Here René was buried after his early death in 1508, and his sorrowing wife reared a noble monument in which he is represented kneeling under a pinnacled canopy crowned by a statue of the Virgin and Child.[319]

[Sidenote: DEC., 1519] QUEEN PHILIPPA]

Six stalwart sons grew up under Philippa's watchful eye, to bear their father's name and maintain the honour of his house. The eldest, Antoine, succeeded René as Duke of Lorraine and Bar, and the second, Claude, became a naturalized French subject, and inherited the family estates in France, including Joinville, Guise, and Aumale. Both Princes were educated at the French Court, where Claude became the friend and companion of the future King Francis, and in 1513 married Antoinette de Bourbon, the Count of Vendôme's daughter. This lovely maiden was brought up with her cousins, Louis XII.'s daughters, the elder of whom married Francis of Angoulême, the heir to the Crown. When, in 1515, this Prince succeeded his father-in-law on the throne, he promised the young Duke of Lorraine the hand of Louis XII.'s widow, Mary of England; but the fair Dowager had already plighted her troth to Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, and Antoine consoled himself with another Princess of the blood royal, Renée de Bourbon, daughter of Gilbert de Montpensier and Chiara Gonzaga. The wedding was celebrated at Amboise on the 26th of June, 1515, and Antoine and Claude both left their brides in Lorraine with Queen Philippa while they followed Francis to Italy. There they fought gallantly by the King's side at Marignano. Antoine was knighted on the field of battle, while Claude received a dangerous wound, and a third brother was slain in the mêlée. Two of Philippa's younger sons lost their lives in the French King's later campaigns. One was killed at Pavia, and Louis, the handsomest of all his handsome race, died of the plague in Lautrec's army before Naples. A sixth son, Jean, Bishop of Metz, was made a Cardinal at twenty, and, like his brother, Claude of Guise, became a prominent figure at the French Court.

During Antoine's absence his duchy was governed wisely and well by his mother, Philippa; but when he no longer needed her help, the good Queen retired from the world, and on the 8th of December, 1519, entered the Order of the Poor Clares at Pont-à-Mousson. Here she spent the remaining twenty-seven years of her life in works of devotion, and edified her family and subjects by the zeal with which she performed the humblest duties, going barefoot and wearing rough serge. But she still retained great influence over her sons, who were all deeply attached to her and often came to visit her in the convent. By a will which she made when she forsook the world, she left her furniture, jewels, and most of her property, to her second son, Claude, "pour aider ce jeune ménage,"[320] and the Duke and Duchess of Guise went to live at her dower-house of Joinville, the _beau châtel_ on the heights above the River Marne, which had once belonged to St. Louis's follower, le Sieur de Joinville. Here that remarkable woman, Duchess Antoinette, the mother of the Guises, reared her large family, the six sons who became famous as soldiers or prelates, and the four beautiful daughters who were courted by Kings and Princes. Antoine's wife, Renée, had not the ability and force of character which made her cousin a power at the French Court, as well as in her own family, but she was greatly beloved in Lorraine, and inherited the cultivated tastes of her Gonzaga mother--the sister of Elizabeth, Duchess of Urbino, and sister-in-law of the famous Isabella d'Este. Renée brought the graces and refinement of the Mantuan Court to her husband's home, and the blossoming of art which took place at Nancy during Antoine's reign was largely due to her influence.

_To face p. 260_

[Sidenote: AUG., 1541] THE DUCAL PALACE]

A whole school of local architects and painters were employed to adorn the ducal palace, which under his rule and that of his immediate successors became, in the words of a contemporary, "as fine a dwelling-place for a great Prince as could possibly be desired."[321] King René had rebuilt the older portions of the house; his son now added the noble gateway known as "La Grande Porterie," with his own equestrian statue carved by Mansuy Gauvain, and the magnificent upper gallery called "La Galerie des Cerfs," from the antlers and other trophies of the chase which hung upon its walls.[322] A wealth of delicate sculpture was lavished on the façade. Flowers and foliage, heraldic beasts and armorial bearings, adorned the portal; "le bœuf qui prêche"--an ox's head in a pulpit--appeared in one corner, and on the topmost pinnacle, above the busts of René and Antoine, a monkey was seen clad in a friar's habit. Within, the vaulted halls were decorated with stately mantelpieces and richly carved friezes. Without, the roofs glittered with gilded copper fretwork and a tall bronze _flèche_, bearing the cross of Lorraine and the thistle of Nancy, crowned the "Tour du Paradis," which enclosed the fine spiral staircase leading to the Galerie des Cerfs. Another round tower, containing an inclined way broad enough for a horse and chariot, stood in the older part of the palace, and led up to the Treasury, where the Crown jewels were kept. Here, too, were the apartments occupied by the ducal family. On one side they opened on to the "Cour d'Honneur," where tournaments and pageants were held. On the other the windows looked down on the gardens, with their cut yews and box hedges, their arbours and bosquets, and in the centre a superb fountain adorned with _putti_ by Mansuy Gauvain; while beyond the eye ranged across the sleepy waters of the moat to green meadows and distant woods.[323] The grand portal and state-rooms at the new end of the palace looked down on the Grande Rue, and were only divided by a narrow street from the shops and stalls of the market-place. The fact that the Duke's house stood in the heart of the city naturally fostered the affection with which he was regarded by the people of Nancy. The citizens were familiar with every detail of the ducal family's private life, and took the deepest interest in their comings and goings, their weddings and funerals, in the guests who arrived at the palace gates, and in the children who grew up within its walls.

Duke Antoine was especially beloved by his subjects. Early in life he had learnt by experience the horrors of war, and all through his reign he tried manfully to preserve a strict neutrality between the rival powers on either side, with the result that Lorraine enjoyed an unbroken period of peace and prosperity. The burden of taxation was lightened, trade and agriculture flourished, and the arts were encouraged by this good Prince, who was justly called the "father of his people." When his beloved wife Renée died, in June, 1539, his sorrow was shared by the whole nation.

"Since I sent my last letter," wrote the Duchess of Guise to her daughter in Scotland, "you will have heard of the death of your aunt--whom God pardon--a fortnight ago. The attack--_a flux de ventre_--which carried her off only lasted nine days, but she was enfeebled by long illness. Nature could no longer offer any resistance, and God in His good pleasure took her to Himself. She died as a good Christian, doing her duty by all and asking forgiveness of everyone, and remained conscious to the end. After Friday morning she would not see her children, or even her husband, but, as this distressed him greatly, she sent for him again after she had received God. On Sunday she was anointed with holy oil, and died at ten o'clock the next evening. It was the tenth of June. It is a heavy loss for all our family, but your uncle bears up bravely. He sent for us, and I set out for Nancy at once, but only arrived there after her death. Your father, with whom I have been in Picardy, followed on Saturday. I have just returned to Pont-à-Mousson, where I came to see my mother-in-law, the good old Queen. The funeral will be on St. John's Day, and your aunt will be buried in the Cordeliers, opposite the tomb of the late King" (René II.).[324]

Four days after his wife's death, Antoine himself sent these touching lines to his niece, the Queen of Scotland:

[Sidenote: AUG., 1541] FRANCIS OF LORRAINE]

"I was glad to hear from you the other day, Madame, and must tell you the great sorrow which it has pleased God to send me, in calling my wife to Himself. She died on the morrow of Pentecost. God be praised, Madame, for the beautiful end which she made, like the good Christian that she was. Commend me to the King your lord; and if there is any service which I can render you or him, let me know, and I will do it gladly.

"Your humble and loving uncle, "ANTOINE."[325]

Renée bore the Duke a large family, but only three of her children lived to grow up: Francis, Marquis of Pont-à-Mousson, born in 1517; Anne, the Princess of Orange, who was five years younger; and Nicolas, Count of Vaudemont, born in 1524, who took Deacon's Orders, and became Bishop of Metz when the Cardinal of Lorraine resigned this see. Francis had the French King for his godfather, and was sent, as a matter of course, to be educated at the Court of France with the Dauphin. This Prince inherited the tall stature and regular features of his father's family, together with his mother's love of art and letters. His studious tastes and quick intelligence made him the delight of all his teachers, and King Francis was heard to say that the Marquis du Pont was the wisest Prince of his age. But although he could ride and tilt as well as any of his peers, he was never robust, and the strain of melancholy in his nature increased as years went by. In 1538 the young Marquis accompanied his father to meet the Emperor at Aigues-Mortes, and made a very favourable impression on Charles, who proposed that he should marry one of King Ferdinand's daughters. Several other alliances had been already suggested for this promising Prince.[326] In 1527, while he was still a boy, the fateful marriage between him and Anne of Cleves had been arranged; and when this was abandoned, King Francis first offered him one of his own daughters, and then his cousin, Mary of Vendôme, whom the King of Scotland had deserted for the fair Duchess of Longueville. At the same time Henry VIII. asked Castillon to arrange a marriage between his daughter Mary and the heir of Lorraine.[327] But from the moment that Francis of Lorraine saw the Duchess of Milan at Compiègne his choice never wavered, and his constancy triumphed in the end over all difficulties.

The lamented death of Duchess Renée, and the marriage of her only daughter, Anne, in the following year, had left the palace at Nancy without a mistress, and rendered Christina's presence there the more welcome. The old Duke was as proud of his daughter-in-law as his subjects were of their young Duchess, and Christina's frank manners and open-handed generosity soon made her very popular in Lorraine. She received a cordial welcome from Antoinette and the Guise Princes at Joinville, and was on the best of terms with her young brother-in-law, Monsieur de Metz. Above all, she was adored by her spouse, whose devotion to Christina quickly dispelled the Duchess of Guise's fears lest this grave and thoughtful Prince should not prove a good husband. His love satisfied every longing of her heart, and filled her soul with deep content. After all the storms of her early youth, after the lonely months at Milan and Pavia, after the disappointment of her cherished hopes, the young Duchess had found a happiness beyond her highest dreams. As she wrote to her old friend Granvelle a few months later: "My husband treats me so kindly, and has such great affection for me, that I am the happiest woman in the whole world."[328]

[Sidenote: NOV., 1541] A VISIT TO FONTAINEBLEAU]

II.

The King of France's ill-temper was the one drawback to the general satisfaction with which Christina's marriage had been received. The coldness with which he treated the Duke of Lorraine and his son, the sacrifice of their rights on Bar, rankled in the old man's heart. His surprise was the greater when he received a courteous invitation to bring his son and daughter-in-law on a visit to the French Court. His brother the Cardinal wrote saying that Queen Eleanor was anxious to see her niece, and that the King wished to confer the Order of St. Michel on her lord, and begged Duke Antoine to accompany the young couple to Fontainebleau.

Christina and her husband, who since his marriage had become a strong Imperialist, were reluctant to accept the invitation, lest an attempt should be made to draw Lorraine into an alliance against the Emperor. But the Cardinal's bland promises and Antoine's anxiety to keep on good terms with the King prevailed over their hesitation, and early in November the two Dukes and the young Duchess spent three days at Fontainebleau. Hunting-parties and banquets occupied the first two days. Eleanor took the greatest delight in her niece's company, and the King, who could never resist a woman's charms, was assiduous in his attention to Christina. The Queen of Navarre's presence afforded the Duchess additional pleasure, and this accomplished Princess showed her Leonardo and Raphael's paintings, and did the honours of the superb palace which had excited the Emperor's admiration two years before. On the third evening the King expressed his wish to confer the Order of St. Michel on the young Duke in so pressing a manner that it was impossible to refuse this offer. But an unpleasant surprise was in store for him and his father. The next morning the Cardinal informed them that the King demanded the cession of the town and fortress of Stenay, in return for the privilege of holding the duchy of Bar. This unexpected demand aroused an indignant protest from Antoine and Francis. Stenay was one of the bulwarks of Lorraine, and its position on the frontiers of Luxembourg made it of great importance to the defence of the empire. But nothing that the Duke and his son could say was of the slightest avail. They were told that if Stenay was not surrendered peaceably the King would declare war and reduce their country to subjection. These threats alarmed the old Duke to such a pitch that before leaving Fontainebleau he was induced to sign a treaty by which Stenay was given up in perpetuity to the French Crown. It was a grievous blow to the prestige of Lorraine, and filled Christina and her husband with grave fears for the future. The following letter which the Duchess wrote to Granvelle a few weeks afterwards shows how bitterly she resented the wrong:

[Sidenote: NOV., 1541] THE CESSION OF STENAY]

"You have no doubt heard of the voyage which the Lord Duke my father-in-law, my husband, and I, took to the French Court, where we made a very short stay, but one which turned out very badly for our house. For the King used violent threats to my father and husband, and sent my uncle the Cardinal to tell them that, if they did not satisfy his demands, he would prove their worst enemy, and make them the smallest people in the world. So they were compelled to give him the town of Stenay, which is a great loss to this house, and has vexed my husband and me sorely, showing us how much we are despised on that side, and to what risk of destruction we should be exposed if it were not for the good help of the Emperor, in whom I place my whole trust."[329]

Unfortunately for the Duchess and her husband, Charles was at this moment engaged in his disastrous expedition to Algiers. The news of the tempest which wrecked his fleet on the coast of Africa had reached the French Court, and it was confidently asserted that the Emperor himself had perished, or was a prisoner in Barbarossa's camp. These disquieting rumours were set at rest early in December by his safe return to Cartagena with the remnants of his army. But his enemies had been active in his absence. On the 15th of November the Duke of Lorraine set his seal to the deed of cession, and a week later a French garrison took possession of Stenay. General indignation was excited throughout Europe by this arbitrary act. Mary of Hungary entered a vigorous protest in her brother's name against this surrender of an imperial fief, and no sooner did the news reach Charles than he told his Ambassador to require the French King to do homage for the town. The new English Ambassador, Paget, who arrived at Fontainebleau a few days after the Lorraine Princes left Court, noticed that the King "looked very black, as if the Imperial Envoy had spoken of matters not all the pleasantest"; while he informed his royal master that the entertainment of the Duke of Lorraine had been but cold, and that he had lost all credit with the French.[330] When Chapuys told King Henry at Christmas how King Francis had snatched Stenay from the Duke of Lorraine, the English monarch only shrugged his shoulders, saying he had always known no good would come out of that marriage.[331]

Meanwhile Christina and her husband found some consolation for their wounded feelings in the friendly reception which they met with at Joinville, on their return from France. The Duke and Duchess of Guise came to meet them at Annonville, and were eager to do honour to their nephew's bride and show her the beauties of their stately home. They had lately decorated the halls and chapel with paintings and statues, and Antoinette had laid out terraced gardens along the wooded slopes on the River Marne, adorned with pavilions and fountains. Nothing escaped the eye of this excellent lady, who watched over the education of her children and the welfare of her servants, and managed her kitchen, stables, and kennels, with the same indefatigable care. Her household was a model of economy and prudence, and her works of mercy extended far beyond the limits of Joinville. The active correspondence which she kept up with her eldest daughter, the Queen of Scotland, abounds in details regarding every member of her family, and above all her little grandson, the Duke of Longueville. The Duchess's letters are naturally full of this precious boy, who was the pet and plaything of the whole household, and on whose perfections she is never tired of dwelling. For his mother's benefit, she sends minute records of his height and appearance, of the progress which he is making at lessons, the walks which he takes with his nurse.

[Sidenote: NOV., 1541] AT JOINVILLE]

"We have here now," she wrote to Mary of Guise, on the 18th of November, "not only your uncle, but the Duke and Duchess of Bar, on their way back from Court. They are all making good cheer with us, and your father is so busy entertaining them that you will hardly have a letter from him this time. Your eldest brother [Aumale] is here too, but goes to join the King at Fontainebleau next week. I shall go to my mother [the old Countess of Vendôme], who is quite well, and so also is the good old Queen, your grandmother. I have kept as a _bonne bouche_ for you a word about our grandson, who will soon be a man, and is the finest child that you ever saw. I am trying to find a painter who can show you how tall, healthy, and handsome, he is."

Sad news had lately come from Scotland, where the Queen's two children, a boy of a year old and a new-born babe, had died in the same week. Antoinette's motherly heart yearned over her absent daughter in this sudden bereavement.

"Your father and I are sorely grieved at the loss you have suffered," she wrote to Mary; "but you are both young, and I can only hope that God, who took away those dear little ones, will send you others.... If I were good enough for my prayers to be of any avail with God, I would pray for this, but I can at least have prayers offered up by others who are better than I am, especially by the good Queen in her convent and her holy nuns. We are glad to hear the King bears his loss with resignation, and trust God will give you patience to live for Him in this world and in the next, to which tribulation is the surest way."

And in a postscript she adds a word of practical advice, saying that she did not like to hear of the poor babes having so many different nurses, and fears this may have been one cause of the mischief.[332]

In return for this affectionate sympathy, King James sent his mother-in-law a fine diamond and a portrait of himself, which arrived during Christina's visit, and excited much interest at Joinville. All the Duchess of Guise's daughters were absent from home, the youngest, Antoinette, having joined her sister, Abbess Renée, in the convent at Reims, where she afterwards took the veil. But her eldest son, as we have seen, was at Joinville on this occasion. A tall, dark-haired, olive-skinned youth, recklessly brave and adventurous, Aumale was a great favourite both in Court and camp, and his mother had been sadly disappointed at the failure of the marriage negotiations, which had cost her so much time and trouble. The Pope's daughter, Vittoria Farnese, who was to have been his wife, had since then been offered in turn to the Prince of Piedmont and the Duke of Vendôme, and was eventually married to the Duke of Urbino. Aumale himself cared little for the loss of the Italian bride, whom he had never seen, and had hitherto shown no eagerness for matrimony, but the sight of Christina made a deep impression upon him, and he never forgot his fair cousin's visit to Joinville. The most friendly relations prevailed between the two families, and frequent visits were interchanged during the winter. Christmas was celebrated with prolonged festivities at Nancy, and on the 6th of February the old Duke wrote from Joinville to his niece, the Queen of Scotland:

"Your father and I have spent the last week together, and have made great cheer with all our family. Your son, De Longueville, is very well, and has grown a fine boy.

"Your very humble and affectionate uncle, "ANTOINE."[333]

[Sidenote: FEB., 1542] CHRISTINA'S ANXIETIES]

In spite of these distractions, Christina found it difficult to make her husband forget the loss of Stenay. The injustice which had been done to the House of Lorraine still rankled in his mind, and he feared that the Emperor would hold him responsible for the surrender of the town, and regard it as an act of disloyalty. Christina accordingly addressed a long letter to Granvelle, explaining that her husband had been very reluctant to accept the French Order of St. Michel, and had only done this at his father's express command, before there had been any mention of surrendering Stenay. Now she feared that the King might make some fresh demand, which would complete the destruction of the ducal house, and could only beg the Emperor to help them with his advice and support.

"For you may rest assured," she goes on, "that, whatever His Majesty is pleased to command, my husband and I will obey, although, as you know, my father-in-law is somewhat difficult to please, and we must do his will for the present. So I beg you earnestly to point this out to His Majesty, and ask him to give us his advice; for since our return to Nancy my husband has been so sad and melancholy, and so full of regret for the great wrong which his house has suffered, that I am quite afraid it will injure his health. Once more I beg you, Monsieur de Granvelle, to be a good friend to us in the present, as you have been in the past ... for we have received so much kindness from you that I hope you will not hesitate to give us whatever advice seems best in your eyes. As for me, I am so much indebted to you for having helped to place me where I am, that you and yours will always find me ready to do you service. For I can never forget that it is to you I owe my present great happiness."[334]

[Sidenote: JAN., 1542] KING HENRY'S WIVES]

Charles, however, wrote kindly to his niece, and refused to listen to the unkind tongues who tried to poison his mind against her husband. By degrees the young Duke recovered his equanimity, and devoted his attention to beautifying the ducal palace of Nancy. In the last years of Renée's life a Lorraine artist, Hugues de la Faye, had been employed to paint subjects from the life of Christ at one end of the "Galerie des Cerfs," and hunting-scenes at the other. Christina's presence gave new impulse to the work, and the large quantity of gold-leaf and azure supplied to the painters in the Duke's service, show how actively the internal decoration of the palace was carried on. In one particular instance Christina's influence is clearly to be traced. By Duke Antoine's orders, a fresco of the Last Supper was begun by Hugues de la Faye in the refectory of the Cordeliers, but was only completed after this painter's death in 1542, by Crock and Chappin. These two Lorraine artists were sent to Italy by Duke Francis soon after his accession, and visited Milan amongst other places. Here they saw Leonardo's famous "Cenacolo" in the refectory of S. Maria le Grazie, which was closely connected with the Sforza Princes, and must have been very familiar to Christina when she lived in Milan. The fresco which they executed at Nancy is said to have been a replica of Leonardo's great work, and kneeling figures of Antoine and Renée were introduced on the same wall, in imitation of the portraits of Lodovico Sforza and Beatrice d'Este which are still to be seen in the Dominican refectory at Milan. Unfortunately, the Lorraine masters' painting suffered a still worse fate than Leonardo's immortal work, and, after being partly spoilt by damp, was finally destroyed thirty years ago and replaced by a modern copy.[335]

During this winter, when Christina was happily settled in her new home and surrounded by loyal friends and subjects, news came from England of the trial and execution of Henry VIII.'s fifth Queen, Catherine Howard. When the Duke and Duchess were at Fontainebleau, rumours reached the Court that this unhappy lady, of whom Henry was deeply enamoured but a short time before, had been suddenly banished from his presence, and taken into custody. "Par ma foi de gentil homme!" exclaimed King Francis when he heard the account of the Queen's misdeeds. "She has done wondrous naughtily!"[336] But in England, as Chapuys reported, much compassion was felt for the King's latest victim, who had dragged down the noble house of Howard in her fall. Lord William Howard, the late Ambassador, was hastily recalled from France, and sent to the Tower with his mother, the old Duchess of Norfolk. The King himself, wrote Chapuys, felt the case more than that of any of his other wives, just as the woman who had lost ten husbands grieved more for the tenth when he died than for any of the other nine! But when the luckless Queen was beheaded, Henry recovered his spirits, and spent Carnival in feasting and entertaining ladies with a gaiety which made people think that he meant to marry again. "But few, if any, ladies of the Court," remarked Chapuys, "now aspire to the honour of becoming one of the King's wives."[337]

It was an honour to which Christina herself had never aspired. One day at the Court of Nancy, conversation turned on the King of England, and some indiscreet lady asked the Duchess why she had rejected this monarch's suit. A smile broke over Christina's face, and the old dimples rose to her cheeks as she replied that, unfortunately, she only had one head, but that if she had possessed two, one might have been at His Majesty's disposal. It was a characteristic speech, and has passed into history.[338]

III.

[Sidenote: MAY, 1542] THE KING'S CHASE]

All through the winter of 1541-42 preparations for war were actively carried on in France, and intrigue was rife among the Courts of Europe. Francis was determined to profit by his rival's misfortunes, in spite of the remonstrances of the Pope and of the deputies who were sent by the Imperial Diet to adjure him not to trouble the peace of Christendom while the Emperor was fighting against the Turks. By the end of the year he succeeded in forming a strong coalition, which included Scotland, Denmark, Sweden, and Cleves. The Palatine Frederic had once more pressed his wife's claims to the three kingdoms, with the result that Christian III. lent a willing ear to the French King's advances, and sent Envoys to Fontainebleau, where a secret treaty between France and Denmark was signed a few days after the Duke and Duchess of Lorraine had left Court. Francis was now exceedingly anxious to draw Lorraine into the league and induce Duke Antoine to take up arms against the Emperor. In May he set out on a progress through Burgundy and Champagne, taking the Queen and all the Court with him, to inspect the fortifications of the eastern frontier and enjoy some hunting on the way. "Tell the Pope," he said merrily to the Legate Ardinghelli, "that I do nothing but make good cheer and amuse myself, whether I entertain fair ladies or go a-hunting the deer." Paget and the other Ambassadors complained bitterly of the bad quarters "in peevish villages" which they had to put up with as they followed the King from place to place, wherever "great harts were to be heard of."[339] Fortunately, he found excellent sport at the Duke of Guise's château of Esclaron, where he spent three weeks, and declared that he had never been so happy in his life.

"The King," wrote Duchess Antoinette to Mary of Scotland, "has found so many big stags here that he says he was never in a place which pleased him better, and that in spite of torrents of rain and God knows what mud! And you cannot think how fond he is of your father."[340]

She herself went to Esclaron to receive her royal guest, taking the eight-year-old Duke of Longueville with her, to make his bow to the King and be petted by Queen Eleanor and her ladies. But the life of a Court lady, as she told her daughter, was little to her taste, and she returned to Joinville early in June, to keep the Fête-Dieu and prepare her husband's and sons' equipment for the war which was expected to begin immediately. Two days later, on the 10th of June, the Duke and Duchess of Bar paid the French King a visit at Esclaron, and were present at the reception of the Swedish Ambassadors, whom Gustavus Wasa had sent to sign the new treaty. The ceremony took place in a large barn hung with tapestries and wreathed with green boughs. The King and his guests sat on a raised daïs, draped with cloth of gold, under a canopy, while the Princes of the blood and the other courtiers, among whom were no less than six Cardinals, stood below. Here Francis listened patiently to a long Latin harangue from the Swedish Ambassador, and then, coming down from his seat, he mingled freely in the crowd of Cardinals and Princes, gentlemen and yeomen, who stood "all in a heap" at the doors of the barn, and showed himself very affable, although, in Paget's opinion, "his manner lacked the majesty which he had noticed in his own master on similar occasions."[341]

[Sidenote: JUNE, 1542] THE FRENCH INVASION]

Christina looked with curiosity at these Envoys from the Northern kingdom over which her father had once ruled, many of whom had known the captive monarch in old days. This time she and her husband had no cause to complain of the King's treatment. He was all courtesy and smiles, and assured them in the most cordial terms of the singular affection which he bore to all their house. But he soon saw that there was no prospect of inducing Antoine and his son to join him against Christina's uncle, and on the 12th of June he consented to sign an agreement by which he promised to respect the neutrality of Lorraine and the properties of the Duke's subjects.[342] After spending another week at Joinville, enjoying the splendid hospitality of the Guises, he left Eleanor with the Duchess, and went on to Ligny, a strong fortress on the borders of Luxembourg, where he gave orders for the opening of the campaign.

By the middle of July four separate armies had invaded the Emperor's dominions. Guise and Orléans fell upon Luxembourg, Vendôme entered Flanders, the Dauphin attacked Roussillon, and the forces of Cleves, under the redoubtable Guelders captain, Martin van Rossem, laid Brabant waste with fire and sword. But they met with determined opposition in every quarter, and the heroism of the Regent and her captains saved the Netherlands from ruin.

"The attack," wrote De Praet to Charles on September 21, 1542, "was so secretly planned and so well carried out that it is a miracle Your Majesty did not lose your Pays-Bas. We must thank God first of all, and next to Him the Queen, to whose extreme care, toil, and diligence, this is owing."[343]

Fortunately for the Imperialists, Francis's extravagance had emptied his treasury. All his money, as Paget reported, was spent in building new palaces and buying jewels for himself and his favourites. Stenay and other places had been fortified at vast expense, and by the end of the year most of the French forces were disbanded for lack of funds.

It was a sad autumn at Joinville, where the good Duchess wept and prayed for her absent lord and sons, and sighed to think they were fighting against her daughter Louise's husband and father-in-law. In September Guise was invalided home, and he was hardly fit to mount his horse again when the parents received the news of Louise's death, which took place at Brussels on the 18th of October. The charming Princess had always been a delicate girl, and now she died without leaving a child to comfort the husband and father who had loved her so well. This sad event was followed by tidings of the disaster which had befallen the King of Scotland's army in Solway Moss, and of his death on the 18th of December. Antoinette's heart bled for her widowed daughter, who had just given birth to an infant Princess at Linlithgow. "It came with a lass, and it will go with a lass," were the words of the King when he was told of the child's birth, a few days before he died at Falkland Palace. Both Guise and Aumale would gladly have hastened to Mary's help, but it was impossible for them to leave the camp at this critical moment, and Antoinette could only beg her daughter to keep up her courage and trust in God, "the Almighty, who would defend her and the poor little Queen, who although so young is already exposed to the insults of her enemies."[344]

[Sidenote: JAN., 1543] BIRTH OF A SON]

It was a no less anxious time for Christina in her home at Nancy. From the palace roof the smoke of burning villages was to be seen in all directions, and the people of Lorraine were exposed to frequent raids from the hordes of irregular soldiers in both armies, and were compelled to raise trained bands for the defence of the frontiers. It was only by the strictest observance of the laws of neutrality that an outbreak of actual hostilities could be avoided. When Aumale was badly wounded by a shot from a crossbow in the siege of Luxembourg, his uncle the Duke sternly refused to have him carried into his neighbouring castle of Longwy; and when Mary of Hungary proposed to garrison this fortress to protect his subjects from French aggression, he declined her offer firmly at the risk of incurring the imperial displeasure.[345] Christina herself spent Christmas at Fontainebleau with her aunt, Queen Eleanor. This poor lady was distracted with grief at the war between her husband and brother, and spent much time in making futile attempts to induce her sister, the Regent, to listen to peace negotiations. Early in December, while the King was hunting at Cognac, she sent a gorgeous litter to Bar to bring the Duchess to Court, and kept her there till the middle of January.[346] A month afterwards--on the 13th of February--Christina gave birth to her first child, a son, who received the name of Charles, after her imperial uncle. There was great rejoicing in Nancy, where the happy event took place, and the old Duke himself went to Pont-à-Mousson to bear the good news to the venerable Queen Philippa, who thanked God that she had lived to see her great-grandson. The little Prince's christening was celebrated with as much festivity as the troubled state of the country would allow, and Christina's faithful friend, the Princess of Macedonia, who had followed her to Lorraine, held the child at the font and was appointed his governess.[347]

[Sidenote: NOV., 1543] DUKE ANTOINE MEDIATES]

Two days before the Prince's birth a secret treaty between the Emperor and King Henry was concluded at Whitehall. Chapuys had at length attained the object of his untiring efforts, and De Courrières was sent from Spain on a confidential mission to induce Henry to declare war against France. The defeat of the Duke of Aerschot at Sittard excited general alarm in Flanders, and Mary was at her wits' end for money and men. But the Emperor himself was hastening across the Alps to the help of his loyal provinces. The marriage of his son Philip with the Infanta of Portugal had been finally settled, and with the help of this Princess's large dowry and another half-million of Mexican gold, Charles was able to raise a large army of German and Italian troops. On the 22nd of August he appeared in person before Düren, the capital of Cleves, which surrendered within a week. The Duke threw himself on the victor's mercy, and was pardoned and invested anew with his hereditary duchies, while Guelders was annexed to the Netherlands and the Prince of Orange became its first Governor. William of Cleves on his part renounced the French alliance, and agreed to marry one of King Ferdinand's daughters. His previous marriage with Jeanne d'Albret was annulled by the Pope, and this resolute young Princess had the satisfaction of carrying her protest into effect. Encouraged by these successes, Charles now laid siege to Landrécy, the capital of Hainault, which had been captured and fortified by the French, and was joined by a gallant company of English under Lord Surrey and Sir John Wallop. "Par ma foi!" exclaimed the Emperor, as he rode down their ranks, "this is a fine body of gentlemen! If the French King comes, I will live and die with the English."[348] But Francis refused to be drawn into a battle, and the approach of winter made both armies retire from the field.

The Duke of Lorraine took advantage of this temporary lull to mediate between the two monarchs. Old as he was, and suffering severely with gout, Antoine came to the Prince of Chimay's house with his son Francis, and begged for an audience with the Emperor and Regent, who were spending a few days at Valenciennes, on their way to Brussels. Charles sent him word not to come into his presence if he brought offers from the French King; but in spite of these peremptory orders the two Dukes arrived in the town on Sunday, the 17th of November, and were received by the Emperor after dinner. Antoine delivered a long oration begging His Imperial Majesty to make peace for the sake of Christendom, and, laying his hand on his breast, swore that he had taken this step of his own free will, without communicating with any other person. The old man's earnestness touched Charles, who answered kindly, saying that he was always welcome as a cousin and a neighbour, and that this was doubly the case now that his son had married the Emperor's dearly loved niece. But he told him frankly that he had been too often deluded by false promises to listen to French proposals for peace, and that in any case he could do nothing without the consent of his ally, the King of England. Nothing daunted, the old Duke went on to visit the Regent, and was found by Lord Surrey and the English Ambassador Brian sitting at a table before a fire in the Queen's room, playing at cards. Antoine greeted Brian as an old friend, and asked him to drink with him. But Mary sternly refused to listen to the Duke's errand, being convinced that he came from the King, and declaring that all the gentlemen in his suite were good Frenchmen. When he and his son were gone, she called Brian to her, and said: "Monsieur l'Ambassadeur, heard you ever so lean a message?" "Madame," replied the Englishman, "if the broth be no fatter, it is not worth the supping," a sentiment which provoked a hearty laugh from the Queen.[349]

[Sidenote: MAY, 1544] EGMONT'S WEDDING]

Neither Queen Eleanor, who sent an entreating letter with a present of falcons to her sister, nor Cardinal Farnese, who brought fresh proposals of peace from the Pope, fared any better. The young Duchess Christina now determined to make an attempt herself, and came to meet her uncle at Spires when he attended the Diet. The ostensible reason of this journey was to visit her sister Dorothea, but Charles, divining her intention, sent the Countess Palatine word that if the Duchess of Bar brought proposals of peace she might as well stay at home. Christina, however, arrived at Spires on the 8th of February, with a train of fourteen ladies and fifteen horse, and spent a week with the Count and Countess Palatine. The sisters saw the Emperor and King Ferdinand every day, and were to all appearance on the most affectionate terms with them. But nothing transpired as to what passed between Christina and her uncle in private. On the day that she left Spires to return to Nancy, Frederic heard of the death of his brother, the Elector Palatine, and hastened to Heidelberg with Dorothea to attend his funeral and take possession of the rich Rhineland, to which he now succeeded. Six weeks later he returned to do homage for the Palatinate, and assist at the wedding of his cousin Sabina with Lamoral d'Egmont, the hero of so many hard-fought fields. The Emperor gave a sumptuous banquet in honour of his gallant brother-at-arms, Dorothea led the bride to church, and Frederic, in a fit of generosity, settled 14,000 florins on his young kinswoman.[350]

In this same month Ambassadors arrived at Spires from Christian III. of Denmark, who had quarrelled with the French King and was anxious to make peace with the Emperor. In spite of a protest from the Palatine, a treaty was concluded on the 23rd of May, by which Charles recognized the reigning monarch's title to the crown. So the long war, which had lasted twenty-one years, was at length ended, and the Emperor finally abandoned the cause of Christian II. But a clause was added by which his daughters' rights were reserved, and a promise given that the severity of his captivity should be relaxed and that he should be allowed to hunt and fish in the park at Sonderburg. Christian III. gladly agreed to these more humane conditions, and even offered to give Dorothea and Christina a substantial dowry, but the Palatine refused to accept any terms, and persisted in asserting his wife's claims.[351]

IV.

[Sidenote: JUNE, 1544] CHARLES V. IN LORRAINE]

Soon after her return from Spires, on the 20th of April, 1544, Christina gave birth, at Nancy, to a daughter, who was named Renée, after the late Duchess. But her happiness was clouded by the illness of her husband, whose health had become a cause of grave anxiety. Fighting was renewed with fresh vigour in the spring, and unexpected success attended the imperial arms. Luxembourg was recovered by Ferrante Gonzaga, and the French invaders were expelled from most of the strongholds which they held in this province. The war raged fiercely on the borders of Lorraine, and the annoyance to which his subjects were exposed, induced Duke Antoine to make another effort at mediation. Since the Emperor turned a deaf ear to all appeals, he decided to apply to King Francis in person, and on the 8th of May he set out in a litter for the French Court; but when he reached Bar he was too ill to go any farther, and took to his bed in this ancient castle of his ancestors. His sons hastened to join him, and Christina followed them as soon as she was able to travel, and arrived in time to be present at her father-in-law's death-bed. The fine old man made his will, appointed his brothers, the Duke of Guise and the Cardinal, to be his executors, and with his last breath begged his son to rule Lorraine wisely and raise as few extraordinary taxes as possible. Above all, he adjured him to preserve his people from the scourge of war, and use every endeavour to obtain the restoration of peace. With these words on his lips, he passed away on the 19th of June, 1544.[352] The new Duke was as anxious for peace as his father, but the moment was unpropitious for any efforts in this direction. King Henry had at length taken the field and invaded Picardy with a large army, and the Emperor was bent on carrying the war into the heart of France, and urged his ally to meet him under the walls of Paris. On the 17th of June Charles himself came to Metz with Maurice of Saxony and the young Marquis Albert of Brandenburg, the boldest warrior in Germany, and prepared plans for the extension of the campaign which Ferrante Gonzaga and the Prince of Orange were carrying on in Champagne. Here Francis of Lorraine joined him as soon as he was able to mount a horse, and, after spending some days at Metz, induced the Emperor to accompany him to Nassau-le-Grand, where Christina was awaiting him.[353] On his way Charles stopped at Pont-à-Mousson, and paid a visit to Queen Philippa, the sister of his old enemy Charles of Guelders, for whom he had always entertained a genuine regard, and who was proud to welcome the great Emperor under her convent roof. Since the death of the Empress, five years before, Charles had formed a fixed resolution to end his days in some cloistered retreat, and he looked with admiration, not unmixed with envy, on the aged Queen's peaceful home, and the garden where she hoed and raked the borders and planted flowers with her own hands. It was a memorable day in the convent annals, and one which left pleasant recollections in the Emperor's breast.[354]

But although Charles was full of affection for Christina and her husband, he declined to receive the Cardinal of Lorraine, who begged for an interview, and during his brief visit not a word was spoken with regard to overtures of peace.[355] On the 12th of July he took leave of the Duke and Duchess, and joined the Prince of Orange's camp before St. Dizier. This town was strongly fortified, but René had taken up his position near a bridge across the Marne, and opened fire from a battery of guns placed in the dry bed of the castle moat. Charles himself visited the trenches on the day of his arrival, and early the next morning the Prince of Orange walked round to inspect the artillery with Ferrante Gonzaga. The Marquis of Marignano was sitting in a chair, which had been brought there for the Emperor's use the day before, and, seeing the Prince, sprang to his feet and offered him his seat. Compliments were exchanged on both sides, and the Prince finally sat down in the empty chair. He had hardly taken his seat before he was struck by a shell which, passing between the Viceroy and the Marquis, broke one of his ribs, and shattered his shoulder to pieces. They bore his unconscious form to the Emperor's tent, where he lay between life and death for the next forty-eight hours. The whole camp was filled with consternation.

"I doubt yet what will become of him," wrote Wotton, who had followed Charles to the camp. "If he should die of it, it were an inestimable loss to the Emperor, so toward a gentleman he is, so well beloved, and of such authority among men of war."

Before the writer had finished his letter, a servant came in to tell him that the Prince was gone.[356]

[Sidenote: JULY, 1544] DEATH OF RENÉ]

A Spanish officer on the spot wrote a touching account of the Prince's last moments. From the first the doctors gave little hope, and when the Emperor heard of René's critical state he hastened to the wounded hero's bedside, and knelt down, holding his hand in his own. The Prince knew him, and begged him as a last favour to confirm the will which he had made a month before, and take his young cousin and heir, William of Nassau, under his protection. Charles promised to do all in his power for the boy, and, with tears streaming down his face, kissed the Prince's cheek before he passed away.

"His Majesty the Emperor," continued the same writer, "saw him die, and after that retired to his chamber, where he remained some time alone without seeing anyone, and showed how much he loved him. The grief of the whole army and of the Court are so great that no words of mine can describe it."[357]

[Sidenote: AUG., 1544] LA SQUELETTE DE BAR]

From all sides the same bitter wail was heard. There was sorrow in the ancient home at Bar, where René's marriage had been celebrated with great rejoicing four years before. The Duke and Duchess wept for their gallant brother-in-law, and Christina thought, with tender regret, of the hero who in youthful days had seemed to her a very perfect knight. The sad news was sent to De Courrières at the English camp before Boulogne, by his Lieutenant of Archers, and the veteran shed tears over the gallant Prince whom he had often followed to victory. Great was the lamentation at Brussels when the truth became known. Nothing but weeping was heard in the streets, and Queen Mary retired to the Abbey of Groenendal to mourn for the loss which the Netherlands had sustained by René's untimely death.[358] In his own city of Breda the sorrow was deeper still. There his faithful wife, Anne of Lorraine, was waiting anxiously for news from the battle-field. Her father had died a few weeks before, and now her lord was torn from her in the flower of his age, and she was left a childless widow. Early in the year she had given birth to a daughter, who was christened on the 25th of February, and called Mary, after her godmother, the Queen of Hungary, but who died before she was a month old. Now report said that she was about to become a mother for the second time, but her hopes were once more doomed to disappointment. By René's last will, his titles and the greater part of his vast estates passed to his cousin William of Nassau, a boy of eleven, while a large jointure and the rich lands of Diest were left to Anne for her life.[359] The Prince's corpse, clad in the robes of a knight of the Golden Fleece, was borne to Breda, and buried with his forefathers; but his heart was enshrined in the Collegiate Church of Bar, among the tombs which held the ashes of his wife's ancestors. On his death-bed René had expressed a wish that a representation of his face and form, not as he was in life, but as they would appear two years after death, should be carved on his tomb. This strange wish was faithfully carried out by Anne of Lorraine, who employed Ligier-Richier, the gifted Lorraine sculptor, to carve a skeleton with upraised hand clasping the golden casket which contained the dead hero's heart. The figure, carved in fine stone of ivory whiteness, was, as it were, a literal rendering of the words, "Though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God." At the Revolution, the Collegiate Church of Bar, with the chapel of the Lorraine Princes, which Montaigne called the most sumptuous in France, was entirely destroyed; but René's monument was saved and placed in the Church of St. Étienne, where it is commonly known as "La Squelette de Bar."[360]

The memory of this popular Prince lingered long in the land of his birth, and his fame lived in the songs of Flanders and Holland for many generations. One of the best known begins with the lines:

"C'est le Prince d'Orange, Trop matin s'est levé, Il appela son page, Mon Maure, est-il bridé? Que maudit soit la guerre-- Mon Maure, est-il bridé?"[361]

And so the story goes on through many stanzas, which tell how, in spite of his wife's dark forebodings, the hero rode out to the wars to fight against the French, how he met with his fatal wound, and never came home again.

V.

[Sidenote: AUG., 1544] THE DUKE'S ILLNESS]

The Prince's death threw a gloom over the imperial camp, but did not diminish the warlike ardour of his battalions, who swore with one voice that they would avenge their leader. On the 17th of August St. Dizier at length surrendered. "A right dear-bought town," wrote Wotton, "considering the number of men lost in the assault, and chiefly the inestimable loss of that noble Prince." Ferrante immediately sent a troop of light horse, with Francesco d'Este at their head, against Joinville, the splendid home of the Guises, although, as Wotton remarked, this was rather a house of pleasure than a stronghold. The castle was spared by order of the Emperor for the sake of his niece Christina, who begged him not to add to the Princess of Orange's grief by destroying her uncle's house; but the town and churches were sacked and set on fire, and the beautiful gardens, with their fine water-shows and temples, were destroyed.[362] The news was received with consternation in Paris, where Antoinette and her grandson had taken refuge, and the Duchess's brother, Cardinal Bourbon, wrote to the Scottish Queen telling her of the report that the enemy had burnt down Joinville, which had fortunately proved to be false. "The destruction of such a beautiful house," he adds, "would indeed have been sad."[363] This calamity had been averted by Christina, but, in their anger at the damage done by the imperial troops, the Guise Princes hardly remembered the debt that they owed her. The King was furious, and in the first burst of his indignation sent the Duke of Lorraine a message, threatening to destroy him and all his house. The Duke now determined to go to the French Court to defend himself from these charges and see if it were possible to make proposals of peace in this quarter. The Emperor's rapid advance had excited great alarm in Paris. Even the King awoke to a sense of danger, and said to Margaret of Navarre, the sister to whom he turned in all his worst troubles, "_Ma mignonne_, pray God to spare me the disgrace of seeing the Emperor encamped before my city of Paris." Queen Eleanor, in her distress, sent a Dominican friar in whom she had great confidence--Don Gabriel de Guzman--to implore her brother to hear her prayers. But Charles was still obdurate. He received Francis of Lorraine in the camp after the Prince of Orange's death, but when he heard that his nephew was going to the French Court, he sent Montbardon to beg the Duchess, "as she loved him," not to let her husband go to France so soon after he had seen him, lest people should think that he was sent by the Emperor to treat of peace.

Christina replied in a letter written, as Wotton remarked, in her own hand, telling her uncle that she had sent a servant post-haste to overtake her husband, but that he was already at Châlons, and had gone too far to retrace his steps. In spite of this manful attempt, the Duke never reached Paris; he fell from his horse in a fainting fit at Épernay, and was brought back in a litter to Bar, where Christina nursed him for several weeks.[364] His efforts, however, proved more effectual than he had expected. The Emperor's precautions were necessary owing to the jealousy with which the English King regarded every proposal of peace on the part of his ally, but in reality Charles was almost as eager as Francis to put an end to the war. His resources were exhausted, the plague was raging in Luxembourg and Flanders, and he realized the danger of advancing into the enemy's country with the Dauphin's army in his rear, while his hopes of the English march on Paris had been disappointed by Henry's delays before Montreuil and Boulogne. Under these circumstances he felt that he could no longer refuse to treat with his foes. On the 29th of August, a week after the Duke had started on his unfortunate journey, Admiral l'Annebaut and the French Chancellor were admitted into the Emperor's presence, in the camp near Châlons, and conferences were opened between them and Granvelle, with the happy result that on the 19th of September peace was signed at Crépy-en-Laonnois.

[Sidenote: SEPT., 1544] DUKE ANTOINE'S FUNERAL]

By this treaty the Duke of Orleans was to be given either the Emperor's daughter in marriage, with the reversion of the Netherlands as her dower, or else one of his Austrian nieces with the immediate possession of Milan. In return Francis was to renounce his claims on Naples and Artois, restore the Duke of Savoy's dominions, and endow his son with large estates and revenues. All the towns and fortresses which had been captured during the recent war were to be restored, including Stenay, which, as Charles pointed out, the King of France "had seized in the strangest manner, and held by force without paying homage, although it is notoriously a fief of the empire."[365] As soon as peace was signed, Granvelle's son, the young Bishop of Arras, was sent to ask the English King to become a party to the treaty; but Henry, who had just taken Boulogne after a long siege, quite refused, and professed great surprise to hear that the Emperor had agreed to terms which seemed to him more befitting the vanquished than the victor. On the other hand, a strong party at the French Court complained that the rights of the Crown were sacrificed to the personal aggrandisement of Orleans, and on the 12th of December the Dauphin signed a secret protest against the treaty, which was witnessed by Vendôme and Aumale.[366] But in the provinces where war had been waging, peace was welcomed with thankfulness, and the ruler and people of Lorraine could once more breathe freely.

The Duke of Lorraine was now able to convey his father's body from the Castle of Bar, where he had died, to Nancy. On the 15th of September he and his brother set out at the head of the funeral procession, along roads lined with crowds of people weeping for the good Duke who had ruled the land so well. But since it was impossible for the Duke of Guise and his family to come to Nancy at present, the last rites were put off till the following year, and the old Duke's remains were left to repose for the time in the Church of St. Georges.[367] Little dreamt these loyal subjects that before the year was over the young Duke, on whom their hopes were fixed, would himself be numbered with the dead, and lie buried in his father's grave. But for the moment all was well. The return of peace was hailed with rejoicing, and the restitution of Stenay removed a blot from the scutcheon of Lorraine, while the independence of the duchy was confirmed by a decree of the Diet of Nuremberg, to which the Emperor gave his sanction.[368]

The Duke and Duchess received a pressing invitation to join in the festivities that were held at Brussels to celebrate the peace. Charles and Mary arrived there on the 1st of October, and were shortly followed by Queen Eleanor, bringing in her train the Duke of Orleans and the Duchess of Étampes, who had used all her influence with the King to bring about peace, chiefly from jealousy of the Dauphin and his mistress, Diane de Poitiers. The burghers of Brussels gave the imperial family a magnificent entertainment at the hôtel-de-ville, and presented Eleanor with a golden fountain of exquisite shape and workmanship; while the Emperor lavished costly presents on his guests, and gave the Queen of Hungary the fine domains of Binche and Turnhout in gratitude for her services. Unfortunately, Christina was detained at Nancy by a return of her husband's illness, and did not reach Brussels till the 4th of November. By this time Eleanor had set out on her return, and Christina, eager to see her aunt, followed her to Mons, and spent two days in her company. On the 7th the Duchess came back to Brussels with her brother-in-law, Nicolas de Vaudemont, and remained with her uncle and aunt during a fortnight. It was her first visit to Brussels since her wedding, more than three years before, and old friends and faces welcomed her on all sides. But one familiar figure was missing, and she found a melancholy pleasure in the company of her sister-in-law, the widowed Princess of Orange, whom she saw for the first time since her gallant husband's death. Charles treated his niece with marked kindness, and gave her a superb necklace of pearls and diamonds as a parting present.[369]

[Sidenote: FEB., 1545] PEACE AND PROSPERITY]

The winter was spent happily at Nancy, where the new Duke and Duchess made themselves popular with all classes. Francis gave free rein to his love of art and letters, and encouraged scholars and artists by his enlightened patronage. He took passionate delight in music, and was never happier than when he could surround himself with the best singers and players on the lute and viol. Christina shared his artistic tastes, and was greatly interested in the improvements of the ducal palace. Together they made plans for the decoration of its halls and gardens, and for the construction of new buildings and churches in different parts of Lorraine, while the Court painters, Crock and Chappin, were sent to Italy to collect antiques and study the best examples of art and architecture.[370] At the same time Christina took deep interest in the condition of her humbler subjects, and tried to relieve distress by founding charitable institutions on the pattern of those in Flanders. A new period of peace and prosperity seemed to have dawned on Lorraine, and everything promised a long and happy reign.

By the end of the year the Duke and Duchess of Guise returned to Joinville, and were actively engaged throughout the winter in rebuilding the ruined town and repairing the damage done by the imperial soldiery. Old quarrels between the two houses were forgotten, and friendly intercourse was renewed. In February the Duke and Duchess of Lorraine were present in the chapel of Joinville, at the consecration of Guise's son Charles, as Archbishop of Reims, and in March the Cardinal of Lorraine came to Nancy to discharge the duties of executor to the late Duke. Antoine had provided liberally for all his children. Nicolas de Vaudemont, his younger son, received a sum of 15,000 crowns, and Christina gave her brother-in-law a handsome present of furniture, to help him in setting up house. Some lordships near Joinville were left to the Duke of Guise, and everything was amicably arranged.[371]

[Sidenote: JUNE, 1545] FRANCIS'S DEATH]

Suddenly the Duke fell ill for the third time, and during several days his life was in danger. Wotton was convinced that he had been poisoned by his French enemies, and so alarming were the reports which reached Brussels, that the Emperor wrote privately to his new Ambassador in Paris, Granvelle's brother-in-law, St. Mauris, begging him to keep a watchful eye on the affairs of Lorraine, lest Guise and the Cardinal should take advantage of their nephew's condition to seize his domains. But this time Francis recovered once more, and was able to make his solemn entry into Nancy on the 16th of April. At the Porte St. Nicolas he was met by the three orders--the nobles, clergy, and people--and walked on foot, with Nicolas de Vaudemont at his side, followed by his Ministers, to the Church of St. Georges. Here, kneeling at the high-altar, he kissed the relic of the True Cross, and took a solemn oath to respect the privileges of the people of Lorraine and the liberties of the city of Nancy. After this a _Te Deum_ was chanted and a banquet held in the ducal palace.[372] The next week, by the advice of his doctors, Antoine Champier and Nicolas le Pois, he went to Blamont, in the hope that the invigorating air of the hills might complete his cure; but he grew weaker every day, and was subject to frequent fainting fits of an alarming nature. In her anxiety, Christina sent to Strasburg and Fribourg for well-known physicians, and Mary of Hungary despatched her own doctor to Nancy, and consulted eminent doctors in London and Paris on the patient's symptoms.[373] But all was of no avail, and as a last resource the Duke was carried in a litter to Remiremont, his favourite shooting-lodge in the heart of the Vosges. It was the end of May, and the beautiful woods along the mountain slopes were in the first glory of their spring foliage. For a moment it seemed as if his delight in the beauty of the place and the life-giving influence of sunshine and mountain air would restore him to health. But already the hand of Death was upon him. On the Fête-Dieu he became much worse, and his end was evidently near; but he was perfectly conscious, and, sending for a notary, he made his last will, appointing his wife Regent of the State and guardian of her little son and daughter, and commending her and his children to the Emperor's care. After this he received the last Sacraments, and passed quietly away on Friday, the 12th of June. He was not yet twenty-eight, and had reigned exactly one year.[374] Death had once more severed the marriage tie, and Christina, who but lately called herself the happiest woman in the world, was left stricken and desolate, a widow for the second time, at the age of twenty-three.

FOOTNOTES:

[317] Abbé Calmet, "Histoire Ecclésiastique et Civile de Lorraine," i. 190.

[318] Hugo, 196, 200.

[319] Calmet, iii. 325; A. Hallays, "Nancy" ("Villes Célèbres"), 31.

[320] Calmet, i. 176; Hugo, 244; "Inventaire de Joinville," i. 378.

[321] H. Lepage, "Le Palais Ducal de Nancy," 10; C. Pfister, ii. 29; "La Ville de Nancy," 65.

[322] Pfister, ii. 26; A. Hallays, "Nancy," 37-39.

[323] Lepage, "Palais Ducal," 3; Pfister, ii. 188.

[324] Balcarres Manuscripts, ii. 17.

[325] Balcarres Manuscripts, ii. 84.

[326] _Ibid._, ii. 20.

[327] Kaulek, 54.

[328] F. v. Bucholtz, "Geschichte d. Kaiser Ferdinand I.," ix. 141.

[329] Granvelle, "Papiers d'État," ii. 618; Bucholtz, ix. 141.

[330] State Papers, Record Office, viii. 639, 644, 655

[331] Calendar of Spanish State Papers, vi. 1, 436; Calendar of State Papers, xvi. 1, 690.

[332] Balcarres Manuscripts, ii. 3, 6.

[333] Balcarres Manuscripts, ii. 85.

[334] Bucholtz, ix. 142.

[335] H. Lepage, "Le Palais Ducal de Nancy," 9; Pfister, ii. 256.

[336] State Papers, Record Office, viii. 636.

[337] Calendar of Spanish State Papers, vi. 1, 473; Calendar of State Papers, xvi. 2, 51.

[338] The authenticity of this well-known saying has been often disputed, and was certainly never addressed by the Duchess to either of Henry VIII.'s Ambassadors. But Christina's words were recorded by Joachim Sandrart, who wrote in the seventeenth century, as having been spoken by a Princess of Lorraine, whom the English King had wooed in vain, and were afterwards quoted by Horace Walpole "as the witty answer of that Duchess of Milan whose portrait Holbein painted for Henry VIII." (see Wornum's "Life of Holbein," 311; J. Sandrart, "Deutsche Akademie"; and Walpole's "Anecdotes of Painting").

[339] State Papers, Record Office, viii. 641; Calendar of State Papers, xvii. 711.

[340] Balcarres Manuscripts, ii. 12.

[341] Calendar of State Papers, xvii. 232.

[342] Granvelle, "Papiers d'État," ii. 628; Calendar of State Papers, xvii. 273.

[343] Lanz, ii. 364.

[344] Balcarres Manuscripts, ii. 13.

[345] Pimodan, 81; Bouillé, i. 142.

[346] Calendar of Spanish State Papers, vi. 2, 262.

[347] Calmet, i. 265; Pfister, ii. 200.

[348] Calendar of State Papers, Record Office, ix. 522.

[349] Calendar of State Papers, xviii. 2, 216; State Papers, Record Office, ix. 557; Bucholtz, ix. 263.

[350] Altmeyer, "Relations," etc., 476; Gachard, "Voyages de Charles V.," ii. 285.

[351] Schäfer, iv. 462; Calendar of State Papers, xix. 1, 349.

[352] Calmet, ii. 1196; Pfister, ii. 192.

[353] Gachard, "Voyages," ii. 289; Calendar of State Papers, Record Office, ix. 724.

[354] Calendar of State Papers, xix. 1, 564.

[355] Calendar of State Papers, Record Office, x. 43.

[356] State Papers, Record Office, ix. 733.

[357] Calendar of Spanish State Papers, vii. 267.

[358] Calendar of State Papers, xix. 1, 608; Calendar of Spanish State Papers, vii. 280.

[359] Calendar of State Papers, xix. 1, 71; Groen v. Prinsterer, "Archives de la Maison d'Orange," i. 1.

[360] C. Cournault, "Ligier-Richier," 28.

[361] R. Putnam, "William the Silent, Prince of Orange," ii. 435.

[362] Bouillé, ii. 148; Pimodan, 183; Oudin, "Histoire des Guises," Bib. Nat., f. 118; Calendar of State Papers, Record Office, x. 6, 43.

[363] Calendar of State Papers, xix. 2, 63.

[364] Calendar of Spanish State Papers, vii. 296-298.

[365] Calendar of Spanish State Papers, vii. 305.

[366] _Ibid._, vii. 1, 350, 355.

[367] Calmet, ii. 1196; Pfister, ii. 192.

[368] Calmet, ii. 1281; Ravold, 744; Pfister, ii. 188; Calendar of Spanish State Papers, vi. 2, 262.

[369] Henne, viii. 212-215; T. Juste, "Marie de Hongrie," 120; Calendar of State Papers, xix. 2, 340.

[370] Pfister, ii. 256; H. Lepage, "La Ville de Nancy," 65.

[371] Calendar of Spanish State Papers, viii. 102; Bouillé, i. 244.

[372] Calendar of Spanish State Papers, viii. 195; Pfister, ii. 192; Granvelle, "Papiers d'État," iii. 110.

[373] Ravold, iii. 764; Calmet, ii. 1276.

[374] Pfister, ii. 192.