BOOK IX

CHRISTINA, REGENT OF LORRAINE

1545-1552

I.

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

The premature death of her husband left Christina in a position of exceptional difficulty. Everything combined to add to her distress. She herself was in delicate health, expecting the birth of another child in a few weeks, her only son was an infant of two years and a half, and she had not a single near relative or tried Minister to give her the help of his counsel and experience. The Duke had appointed her Regent of Lorraine during his son's minority, but even before he breathed his last, her claims to this office were disputed. Although Christina herself was popular with all classes of her son's subjects, there was a strong party in Lorraine which dreaded the influence of her powerful uncle. At the head of this party was the Rhinegrave, Jean de Salm, an able nobleman who had always been French in his sympathies, and who now seized the opportunity of the Duke's last illness to advance the claims of Monsieur de Metz, seeing that this young Prince would be an easy tool in his hands. At ten o'clock on the Fête-Dieu, when the Duke had received the last Sacraments, the Count de Salm entered his room with Nicolas de Vaudemont, and thus addressed him: "Monseigneur, if it please God to call you to himself, do you wish that Monsieur de Metz, your brother, should have a share in the administration of your State and the care of your children, without prejudice to the arrangements which you have already made, by word and in writing, with your august wife the Duchess?" The dying Prince, who was hardly conscious, murmured a faint "Yes," upon which the Count summoned a notary to write down the Duke's last wishes, and proceeded to read the document to the Duchess in the presence of her servants.[375] Christina, in her bitter distress, paid little heed to this interruption, and was only anxious to return to her dying husband's bedside; but immediately after his death she found herself compelled to face the question. Owing to her delicate state of health, she decided to put off the Duke's funeral, as well as that of his father, until the following year. A week after his death she joined her young children at her dower-house of Denœuvre, and at the same time the Duke's body was removed by Count de Salm, as Marshal of Lorraine, to the collegiate church of this place, and buried in a temporary grave, after lying in state during three days.

The Emperor was at Worms with the Elector Palatine and his wife when the news of the Duke of Lorraine's death reached him, and sent Montbardon at once to his niece with letters of condolence. Christina availed herself of this opportunity to ask her uncle's advice regarding the deed drawn up by Jean de Salm. Charles, realizing the critical nature of the situation, immediately sent one of his most trusted servants, François Bonvalot, Abbot of Luxeuil, to Nancy, with orders to assure the Duchess of his protection, and if possible secure her the Regency and sole charge of her children. Bonvalot was the brother of Granvelle's wife, the excellent Madame Nicole, and had only lately resigned the office of Ambassador at Paris, and retired to Besançon to administer the affairs of this diocese as coadjutor of the Bishop. No one was better fitted to help the widowed Duchess than this statesman, who was intimately acquainted with the intrigues of the Guise Princes and the French Court. He hastened to Denœuvre without delay, and, as soon as he had seen Christina, wrote the following letter to his brother-in-law, St. Mauris, giving a clear and graphic account of the situation:

"MY BROTHER,

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

"The Emperor, having been informed of Monsieur de Lorraine's death, has sent me here to help his niece the Duchess, and to secure her the administration of the State and the guardianship of her children, which belongs to her by right and reason, but which Monsieur de Metz is trying to claim, by virtue of the custom of this country, as well as of certain acts somewhat suspiciously passed by the Count de Salm and other of the nobles when the late Lord Duke was _in extremis_.... His Majesty, being anxious to comfort the said lady in her great affliction, and act the part not only of a good uncle, but of a true father, has sent me here to give her advice and help, and begs you to tell the Most Christian King the wrong which has been done her in this strange fashion, and which His Imperial Majesty will never allow, because of the close relation in which this lady stands to him. He hopes that the King will join with him in this, for the sake of the friendship which he has ever borne to this house and to this widowed lady and her orphan children, whose fathers and protectors their two Majesties ought to be. His Imperial Majesty begs the King most earnestly not to allow the said lady to be deprived of this Regency to which Monsieur de Metz pretends, in spite of common right and the ancient custom of Lorraine, as the Count of Salm's deed abundantly shows, since this would have been superfluous if the custom were such as he pretends it to be. You will lay these same reasons before the Cardinal and Monsieur de Guise. If you are told that Queen Yolande resigned the government of Lorraine in favour of her son, you will reply that this was done of her own free choice; and if any person objects that the mother of the late Duke Antoine and the Cardinal and Sieur de Guise did not retain the administration after her husband's death, you will point out that the said Duke was of full age, and that the said lady was content to lay down the government on this account.... And, further, you will inquire what the King intends to do in the matter, and if he means to support Monsieur de Metz or take any steps prejudicial to the said lady and the tranquillity of these lands, and will inform His Imperial Majesty and myself of these things without delay."[376]

When Bonvalot wrote this letter from Denœuvre, on the 27th of June, the young Archbishop of Reims had already arrived there, with an agreement drawn up by his uncle the Cardinal, which he submitted to the Duchess for approval. He informed the Abbot that King Francis trusted the said lady would avoid all occasion of strife, which, as Bonvalot remarked, was exactly what the Emperor wished, and Monsieur de Metz, by his singular action, had done his best to prevent. In this difficult situation Christina showed remarkable good sense and tact. She told Bonvalot frankly that she would gladly avail herself of her brother-in-law's help in the administration of public affairs, and wished to treat him with perfect friendliness as long as she retained the sole charge of her children and the chief authority in the State. Accordingly, the agreement proposed by the Cardinal was adopted, with some modifications, and signed at Denœuvre, on the 6th of August, by Christina, Nicolas, the Count de Salm, and other chief officials of Lorraine. The Duchess and her brother-in-law were appointed joint Regents, and were to affix their seal to all public deeds. Vaudemont was given a key of the Treasury, and was allowed the patronage of one out of every three vacant offices; but the real authority, as well as the care of her children, was vested in the Duchess. Bonvalot told the Emperor that, under the circumstances, this was the best arrangement that could be made, and Charles of Lorraine and his family had nothing but praise for the Duchess's good-will and moderation.[377]

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

A fortnight later, Christina gave birth to her second daughter, who was named Dorothea, after the Countess Palatine. But the severe mental strain which the mother had undergone affected the child, who was a cripple from her birth. On the 5th of November the Treaty of Denœuvre was ratified by the States assembled at Neufchâteau, not, however, without considerable discussion. Some of the nobles tried to limit the Regents' powers, and managed to insert a provision that none but Lorraine's should hold offices of State, a measure clearly aimed at the Flemings and Burgundians in the Duchess's service. Nicolas de Vaudemont, being young and inexperienced, agreed readily to these demands, which drew forth a strong protest from the Emperor and Mary of Hungary. To add to Bonvalot's dissatisfaction, Monsieur de Metz accompanied the Archbishop on his return to France, without even informing Christina of his intention. In spite of these provocations, she maintained the same conciliatory attitude, and her prudence and modesty excited the Abbot's sincere admiration. The Emperor addressed an affectionate letter to his niece, assuring her of his fatherly love and protection, and saying that he would never cease to regard her interests as his own. "And it will be a great pleasure to me," he adds, "if you will often write to me, and I on my part will let you hear from me in the same manner."[378]

Christina now returned to spend Christmas at Nancy, and settled in the ducal palace with her children. Monsieur de Metz gave up his bishopric, and renouncing the ecclesiastical profession adopted the style of Count of Vaudemont. But he showed no further disposition to make himself disagreeable to his sister-in-law, and their mutual relations were rendered easier by the presence of the Princess of Orange, who spent most of the year at Nancy. The two widowed Princesses were drawn together by that tenderest of ties, the memory of those whom they had loved and lost. Henceforth they became the dearest and closest of friends. During all the troubles and sorrows of the next twenty years Anne's loyalty to her sister-in-law remained unshaken. Her strong common-sense and practical qualities, her coolness and courage in emergencies, were a great support to Christina, while the confidence that Mary of Hungary reposed in her proved no less valuable. The harmony of the family circle continued unbroken, and the internal administration of Lorraine was carried on as peaceably as before. The conduct of foreign affairs presented far greater difficulties, and all Christina's prudence was needed to steer the way safely through the rocks that lay in her course.

In spite of his friendly professions, the French King, it soon became evident, was likely to prove a troublesome neighbour. As Wotton wrote when Francis of Lorraine died, "If the sweet, vain hope of the delivery of Milan did not let him, I think the Duke's death might easily provoke the French King to attempt somewhat on Bar and Lorraine."[379] Even before her husband's death, Christina had been involved in a long correspondence regarding Stenay, which the French refused to give up until Duke Antoine's letters surrendering the town could be produced. The missing papers were at length discovered in possession of the French Governor, De Longueval, who had maliciously concealed them, and the town was evacuated at the end of August, 1545. Ten days afterwards the Duke of Orleans died of the plague at Abbeville, in his twenty-fifth year. The loss of this favourite son was a heavy blow to Francis. "God grant," he wrote to the Emperor, in an outburst of deep emotion, "that you may never know what it is to lose a son!" The event, as it happened, proved most opportune for Charles, who was released from the unpleasant necessity of giving his daughter or niece to a worthless Prince, with Milan or the Netherlands as her dower. But it naturally provoked Francis to demand fresh concessions and revive his old claim to Milan.

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

The effect of this new quarrel was to increase Christina's difficulties. When the French at length abandoned Stenay, it was found that not only the recent fortifications had been destroyed, as agreed upon in the Treaty of Crépy, but that the old walls of the town had been pulled down. Mary of Hungary justly complained that the defenceless state of Stenay was a grave cause of danger to Luxembourg, and urged her brother to garrison the town, declaring, if war broke out, the Duchess would be unable to maintain the neutrality of Lorraine. Charles, who had already left the Netherlands to attend the Diet of Regensburg, now invited his niece to meet him at Waldrevange, on the frontiers of Luxembourg, and discuss the matter. Christina obeyed her uncle's summons gladly, and assured him that she was quite alive to the importance of Stenay, and had already asked her subjects' help in rebuilding the town walls. But since the presence of an imperial force might excite suspicion, she proposed to place a young Luxembourg Captain named Schauwenbourg in command of the garrison. The plan met with Charles's approval; but Mary was by no means satisfied, and begged the Emperor to insist on an oath of allegiance to himself being taken by the garrison and burghers. Charles replied that no doubt the best plan would be to keep Stenay altogether, but that this would be a direct violation of the Treaty of Crépy, as well as a wrong to the little Duke, and might stir up the French "to make a great broil."[380]

The invaluable Bonvalot was now called in, and accepted Christina's invitation to attend the funeral of the two Dukes on the 14th of June. But when the Abbot reached Nancy, he found that only Duke Antoine's obsequies were about to be solemnized, and that the Duchess had deferred those of her husband in compliance with a request from the Guise Princes. On the day after the old Duke's funeral, Bonvalot had a long interview with Christina, who expressed her anxiety to meet her aunt's wishes, and explained that Vaudemont was only afraid of arousing the suspicions of the French. While she was speaking, Nicolas himself came in and told the Abbé how grateful he felt to the Emperor for the affection which he showed to his little nephew, and how fully he realized the importance of defending Stenay, but that he dared not risk exciting the displeasure of Francis, who was already advancing a thousand new claims on Bar. The members of the Ducal Council, to whom the matter was referred, expressed the same opinion, telling Bonvalot that they looked to the Emperor as their father and protector, and would guard Stenay as the apple of their eye. The Abbot was satisfied with these assurances, and advised the Emperor to leave the matter in his niece's hands. Charles had empowered him to offer Nicolas the restitution of the Abbey of Gorzes, which he had formerly held, and which the Imperialists had recovered from the French and rebuilt at considerable expense. But Christina would not hear of this, saying that her brother-in-law cared more for the good of the State than for his private advantage, and Nicolas himself told Bonvalot that he would not endanger his nephew's realm for ten wealthy abbeys.

[Sidenote: JULY, 1546] THE GUISE FAMILY]

"As for madame your niece, Sire," wrote the Abbot, "I have always found her most anxious to please Your Majesty, at whatever cost. But as a mother she naturally fears to run any risks which might injure her children, and would, if possible, avoid these perils. She begged me, with tears in her eyes, to make Your Majesty understand this, and have pity upon her, trusting that you will be content with the promises of the Council, or else find another and less dangerous way of defending Stenay. Sire, I could not refuse to give you this message, in obedience to Her Highness's express commands, and beg you very humbly to take them in good part."[381]

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

II.

The Duke of Guise and his family now stood higher than ever in the King's favour. His eldest son, Aumale, was dangerously wounded in the siege of Boulogne by an English spear, which penetrated so deeply into his forehead that the surgeon could only extract the steel by planting his foot on the patient's head. After this ordeal the Count lay between life and death for several weeks, and owed his recovery to the tender nursing of his mother, who preserved as a trophy at Joinville the English spearhead which so nearly ended her son's career.[382] As soon as he was able to move, the King sent for Antoinette, and insisted on taking her to hunt at St. Germain, and consulting her as to his latest improvements in this palace. Her grandson, the young Duke of Longueville, was also a great favourite at Court, and when peace was at length concluded, the King gave him a copy of the new treaty with England to send to the Queen of Scotland. The boy enclosed it in a merry letter, sending his love to the little Queen his sister, and telling his mother that if she would not come to France he meant to come and see her, and was old and strong enough to face the roughest sea-voyage.[383]

The Cardinal now announced his intention of taking the whole family back to Joinville, to attend the ducal funeral; but once more the King interfered, and kept them at Court for the christening of the Dauphin's daughter, which was celebrated with great pomp at Fontainebleau. Henry VIII. stood godfather, and the little Princess was named Elizabeth, after the King's mother, "as good and virtuous a woman as ever lived," said the English Ambassador, Sir Thomas Cheyney; while the Imperialists declared that the name was chosen because of its popularity in Spain and of the hopes of the French that the child might one day wed Don Carlos.[384]

Meanwhile the arrival of the Guises was anxiously awaited at Nancy. On the 17th of July Christina wrote to inform Abbot Bonvalot that she had at length been able to fix the date of her husband's funeral:

"MONSIEUR DE LUXEUIL,

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

"I must inform you that I have heard from the Cardinal and the Duke of Guise, who hope to be here by the end of the month, so the service will be held on the 6th of August, all being well. I beg you will not fail to be present. As for my news, all I have to tell you is that the King is giving me great trouble in Bar, and is trying to raise a tax in the town, which has never been done or thought of before. I fear that in the end I, too, shall have to go to Court, but shall wait until I hear from the Emperor. Can you give me any information as to his movements? All I can hear is that His Majesty is collecting a large army to make war on the Princes of the Empire, who have rebelled against him. I pray God to help him, and send him success and prosperity, and have good hope that my prayers will be heard, as this will be for the good of Christendom. Here I will end, Monsieur de Luxeuil, praying God to have you in His holy keeping.

"La bien votre, "CHRESTIENNE."[385]

The coming of the Guises, however, was again delayed, and the funeral did not take place until the 17th of August. On the previous day the Duke's corpse was brought from Denœuvre to Nancy by the great officers of State, and laid on a bier in the Church of St. George's, surrounded by lighted torches and a guard of armed men, who kept watch all night. The funerals of the Dukes of Lorraine had always been famous for their magnificence, and there was an old proverb which said: "Fortunate is the man who has seen the coronation of an Emperor, the sacring of a King of France, and the funeral of a Duke of Lorraine."[386] On this occasion nothing that could heighten the imposing nature of the ceremony was neglected. All the Princes of the blood, Nicolas of Vaudemont, the Duke of Guise with his five sons and grandson, rode out from the ducal palace to the Church of St. Georges, and took their places, as chief mourners, at the head of the long procession that wound through the streets to the Cordeliers' shrine. In their train came a multitude of clergy, nobles, and Ambassadors from all the crowned heads in Europe, followed by a motley crowd of burghers and humble folk, all in deep mourning, with torches in their hands. The chariot bearing the coffin was drawn by twelve horses, draped with black velvet adorned with the cross of Lorraine in white satin. The Duke's war-horse, in full armour, was led by two pages, while the servants of his household walked bareheaded on either side, with folded arms, in token that their master needed their services no more. On the hearse lay an image of the dead Prince, with the ducal baton in his hand, clad in crimson robes and a mantle of gold brocade fastened with a diamond clasp. This effigy was placed on a huge catafalque erected in the centre of the church, lighted with a hundred torches, and hung with banners emblazoned with the arms of Lorraine, Bar, Provence, Jerusalem, and the Sicilies.

In the tribune above the choir knelt the Princess of Orange, the Duchess of Guise, and her newly-wedded daughter-in-law, Diane of Poitiers's daughter Louise, Marchioness of Mayenne, all clad in the same long black mantles lined with ermine. The Countess Palatine, Dorothea, had arrived at Nancy on the 17th of June, to attend her brother-in-law's funeral, but as the Guises failed to appear, she returned to Heidelberg at the end of a fortnight.

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

Christina herself was unable to be present, "owing to her excessive sorrow," writes the chronicler, and remained on her knees in prayer, with the Princess of Macedonia and her young children, in her own room, hung with black, while the requiem was chanted and the last rites were performed.[387] When all was over, and the "two Princes of peace," as De Boullay called Francis and his father, were laid side by side in the vault of the Friars' Church, the vast assembly dispersed and the mourners went their ways. Only Anne of Lorraine remained at Nancy with her sister-in-law, who could not bear to part from her. A letter which this Princess wrote to her cousin, the Queen of Scotland, this summer is of interest for the glimpse which it gives of the widowed Duchess and the boy round whom all her hopes centred:

"Your Majesty's last letters reached me on the day when I arrived here from home, and I regret extremely that I have been unable to answer them before. I am very glad to hear you are in good health and kind enough to remember me. On my part, I can assure you that there is no one in your family who thinks of you with greater affection or is more anxious to do you service than myself. I did not fail to give your kind message, to Madame de Lorraine, my sister, and Her Highness returns her most humble thanks. You will be glad to hear that her son is well and thriving. I pray God that he may live to fulfil the promise of his early years. Everyone who sees him speaks well of him, and his nature is so good that I hope he will grow up to satisfy our highest expectations. May God grant you long life!

"Your humble cousin, "ANNE DE LORRAINE."[388]

The Princess of Orange was still in Lorraine when King Francis came to visit the Duchess. This monarch was as active as ever, in spite of frequent attacks of illness, and spent the autumn in making a progress through Burgundy and Champagne, hunting and travelling seven or eight leagues a day in the most inclement weather.

In October he came to Joinville, and Christina, glad to be relieved of the necessity of going to Court herself, invited him to pay her a visit at Bar. In this once stately Romanesque castle, of which little now remains, the Duchess and the Princess of Orange, "dowagers both," as Wotton remarks, entertained Francis magnificently, and provided a series of hunting-parties and banquets for his amusement.

The true object of the King's visit was to arrange a marriage between the Duchess and the Count of Aumale. The young soldier made no secret of his love for his cousin's beautiful widow, Antoinette was anxious to see her son settled, and both the King and the Guises were fully alive to the political advantages of the alliance. On the 26th of October Wotton wrote from Bar, "The fame continues of a marriage between the Dowager of Lorraine and the Count of Aumale," although, as he had already remarked in a previous letter, it was hard to believe the Duchess's uncles would consent to the union. Aumale's own hopes were high, and he sent a messenger to Scotland to tell his sister of the good cheer which they were enjoying in Madame de Lorraine's house at Bar.[389]

[Sidenote: OCT., 1546] MARRIAGE PROPOSALS]

But these hopes were doomed to disappointment. Christina was determined never to marry again. Like her aunt, Mary of Hungary, having once tasted perfect happiness, she was unwilling to repeat the experiment. Her beauty was in its prime, her charms attracted lovers of every age and rank. During the next ten or twelve years she was courted by several of the most illustrious personages and bravest captains of the age. She smiled on all her suitors in turn, and gave them freely of her friendship, but remained true to her resolve to live for her children alone, and took for her device a solitary tower with doves fluttering round its barred windows, and the motto _Accipio nullas sordida turris aves_ (A ruined tower, I give shelter to no birds), as a symbol of perpetual widowhood.[390]

Aumale consoled himself by winning fresh laurels in the next war, and before long married another bride of high degree; but Brantôme, who was intimate with the Guises, tells us that he never forgave Madame de Lorraine for rejecting his suit, and remained her bitter enemy to the end of his life.[391] The King took Christina's refusal more lightly. He never treated women's fancies seriously, and when he found that Aumale's suit was not acceptable, he sought the Duchess's help in a scheme that lay nearer his heart. This was the marriage of his own daughter Margaret with Philip of Spain, whose young wife had died, in June, 1545, a few days after giving birth to the Infant Don Carlos. The old scheme of marrying this Princess to the Emperor's only son was now revived at the French Court, and Christina, who had always appreciated Madame Marguerite's excellent qualities, entered readily into the King's wishes. But, as she soon discovered, her aunt, Queen Eleanor, was greatly opposed to the idea, and still ardently wished to see Philip married to her own daughter, the Infanta Maria of Portugal.[392]

From Bar Francis returned to spend All Hallows at Joinville, where he enjoyed fresh revels, and delighted the Duke of Longueville by telling him to make haste and grow tall, that he might enter his service.

"Now he goes," wrote the boy's tutor, Jean de la Brousse, "to keep Christmas at Compiègne, and will spend the winter in Paris, watching how matters go with the Emperor and the Protestants, whose armies have been three months face to face, and yet do not know how to kill each other."[393]

In the same letter the writer describes how, on his journey to Plessis, to bring the Princess of Navarre to Court, he met the Queen of Scotland's sister, Madame Renée, with a number of old monks and nuns, on her way from Fontévrault to Joinville. On the 16th of December Madame Renée took possession of the Convent of St. Pierre at Reims, of which she was Abbess, and the Duchess of Lorraine and the Princess of Orange were among the guests present at this ceremony, at the entry of her brother the Archbishop into his episcopal city on the following day.

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

Meanwhile the news of Christina's supposed marriage travelled far and wide. It reached Venice, where the fate of the Duchess who had once reigned over Milan always excited interest, and was reported to King Henry of England by one of his Italian agents. His curiosity was aroused, and when the French Ambassador, Odet de Selve, came to Windsor, he asked him if his master had concluded the marriage which he had in hand. "What marriage?" asked De Selve innocently. "That of Madame de Lorraine," replied Henry testily. "With whom?" asked the Ambassador. But Henry would say no more, and relapsed into sullen silence.[394] He had come back from Boulogne seriously ill, and grew heavier and more unwieldy every day. A week afterwards he had a severe attack of fever, and on his return to London sent Norfolk and Surrey to the Tower.

Mary of Hungary was so much alarmed at this fresh outbreak of violence that she sent to Chapuys, who was living in retirement at Louvain, for advice. The veteran diplomatist, who for sixteen years had toiled to avoid a rupture between the two monarchs, wrote back, on the 29th of January, 1547, advising the Queen to take no action. "Physicians say," he added, "that the best and quickest cure for certain maladies is to leave the evil untouched and avoid further irritation." When the old statesman wrote these words, the King, whose varying moods he knew so well, had already ceased from troubling. He died at Whitehall on the 28th of January, 1547.

The news of his royal brother's death moved the King of France deeply. "We were both of the same age," he said, "and now he is gone it is time for me to go hence, too."[395] In spite of the painful ailments from which he suffered, Francis still moved restlessly from place to place. Towards the end of Lent he left Loches to spend Easter at St. Germain, but fell ill on the way, and died at Rambouillet on the 31st of March.

The death of these two monarchs, who filled so large a place in the history of the times, produced a profound sensation throughout Europe. No one felt the shock more than the Duchess, who had been courted by one Prince, and had lately received the other under her roof. But a third death this spring touched her still more closely. On the 28th of February the good old Queen Philippa passed away in her humble cell at Pont-à-Mousson. As she lay dying she asked what was the day of the week, and, being told it was Saturday, remarked: "All the best things of my life came to me on this day. I was born and married to my dear husband on a Saturday, I entered Nancy amid the rejoicings of my people, and I forsook the world to take the veil, on this day, and now on Saturday I am going to God." Her children and grandchildren knelt at the bedside, but Guise, her best-loved son, only arrived from Paris at the last moment. She opened her eyes at the sound of his voice. "Adieu, mon ami," she said, "and do not forget to keep God before your eyes." These were her last words, and as the pure spirit passed out of this life the sound of weeping was broken by the joyous songs of her pet lark.[396]

She was buried, as she desired, in the convent cloister, and the people, who venerated her as a saint, flocked to the funeral. Christina employed Ligier-Richier, the sculptor of the Prince of Orange's monument, to carve a recumbent effigy of the dead Queen in coloured marbles on her tomb. The black cloak and grey habit were faithfully reproduced, the finely-modelled features were rendered in all their ivory whiteness, and a tiny figure of a kneeling nun was represented in the act of laying the crown at her feet. When the convent church was pillaged by rioters in 1793, this monument was buried by the nuns in the garden. Here it was discovered in 1822, and brought to Nancy, where it now stands in the Church of the Cordeliers, near the stately tomb which Philippa herself had reared to her husband, King René.[397]

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

III.

Of the three great monarchs whose fame had filled the world during the last forty years, only one remained alive, and he was engaged in a desperate struggle. Throughout the autumn and winter of 1546-47, Charles V. carried on a vigorous campaign against the coalition of Princes known as the League of Schmalkalde. Christina watched the progress of the war with keen anxiety, and saw with distress that her brother-in-law, the Palatine, had joined the rebel ranks. Frederic had never forgiven the Emperor for sacrificing his wife's rights by the Treaty of Spires, and showed his displeasure by refusing to attend the Chapter of the Golden Fleece at Utrecht in January, 1546. He further annoyed Charles by introducing Lutheran rites at Heidelberg, and on Christmas Day he and Dorothea received Communion in both kinds at the hands of a Protestant pastor in the Church of the Holy Ghost. But he still hesitated to take up arms against the friend of his youth. At length, in August, he declared himself on the Protestant side, and for the first time the red flag of the Palatinate was seen in the camp of the Emperor's foes. Before long, however, his courage failed him, and when Charles recovered the imperial city of Halle, in Suabia, Frederic hastened thither to make his peace. Tears rose to the veteran's eyes when the Emperor said how much it had grieved him to see so old a friend in the ranks of his foes, but hastened to add that he forgave him freely and would only remember his past services. From this time the Palatine's loyalty never again wavered, but he was obliged to restore Catholic rites in Heidelberg and to give up his fortress of Hoh-Königsberg in Franconia to Albert of Brandenburg.[398]

The Duke of Würtemberg and the cities of Ulm and Augsburg soon followed the Palatine's example, and Charles's triumph was complete by the decisive victory of Mühlberg. "God be thanked, who never forsakes his own," wrote Granvelle to Mary of Hungary from the battle-field, at midnight on the 24th of April.[399] The Elector John Frederick of Saxony and the Landgrave of Hesse were made prisoners, the League of Schmalkalde was dissolved, and Titian commemorated the Emperor's heroic deeds in a famous equestrian portrait.

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

The peace of Lorraine was insured by the victory of Mühlberg, and Christina shared in the general sense of relief with which the close of the war was hailed. When, in the following autumn, the Regent and the Princess of Orange rode to meet the Emperor at the Diet of Augsburg, the Duchess joined them on the frontiers of Lorraine. These three august ladies reached Augsburg on the 21st of November, and were received by King Ferdinand, his son Archduke Maximilian, and the Prince of Piedmont, who met them outside the gates, and escorted them to the Emperor's lodgings in the fine house of the Fuggers. Here the Countess Palatine and Ferdinand's daughter, the Duchess of Bavaria, were awaiting them at the doors of the courtyard, and conducted them into Charles's presence. During the next three months Christina lived in the great banker's house, with the other members of the imperial family, as her uncle's guest. Augsburg itself was a noble city. The wealth of her merchants, the splendour of their houses and gardens, amazed every stranger who entered her gates. "The Fuggers' house," wrote Ascham, "would over-brag all Cheapside." The copper roofs glittered in the sun, the carved and painted decorations of the interior were of the most costly and elaborate description.[400] And this winter the streets of Augsburg were thronged with Princes and ladies. It was the gayest and most splendid Diet ever seen. Never before had so many Archduchesses and Duchesses been present, never was there so much dancing and jousting and feasting. On St. Andrew's Day the whole imperial family attended a solemn Mass in honour of the Knights of the Fleece, and were entertained by the Emperor at a banquet, after which the Queen of Hungary received the Companions of the Order in her apartments. On Christmas Day all the Princes and Princesses were present at High Mass in the Cathedral, and on the Feast of the Three Kings they attended service in the Court chapel, when Granvelle's son, the young Bishop of Arras, officiated, and the Palatine, the Marquis of Brandenburg, and the Archduke, presented the customary offerings of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, in the Emperor's name. Except on these state occasions, Charles dined alone and never spoke at meals, but generally sat by the window for an hour or two afterwards, talking to his brother and sister or nephews and nieces.

King Ferdinand's rooms, on the contrary, were never empty. He had lost his faithful wife, Anna of Bohemia, in January, but his son and daughter were lavish in dispensing their father's hospitality. Like his sister Mary, Ferdinand was very fond of music, and enjoyed listening to his fine Kapelle, while one of his favourite jesters was always present to amuse the Electors and Princesses at his table.[401] His son, the Archduke Max, as Ascham calls him, was a gay and pleasant gentleman, "of goodly person and stature," speaking eight languages, and very popular with all classes, especially the Lutherans, whose opinions he was supposed to affect. Charles's other nephew, Emanuel Philibert, the Prince of Piedmont, was another gallant squire of dames, as ready to take part in masque and dance as he was foremost in active warfare. Every evening there was music and dancing in the King's rooms, and the old halls of the merchants rang to the sound of laughter and melody. In that joyous throng the Countess Palatine was the gayest of the gay, and Christina forgot her sorrows to become young once more.

[Sidenote: 1548] THE MARQUIS ALBERT]

There was one man among the Princes assembled at Augsburg who gazed with frank admiration at the handsome Duchess; this was the Marquis Albert of Brandenburg, Lord of Culmbach and Burgrave of Nuremberg. While still a boy he succeeded to his father's principality in Franconia, and was educated by his uncle, the Duke of Prussia and Grand-Master of the Teutonic Order. Although brought up a Lutheran, he entered the Emperor's service before he was twenty, and fought gallantly in the wars of Cleves and Champagne. A wild and reckless spirit, who rode hard, drank deep, and knew no fear, Albert was adored by his soldiers, whose toils and hardships he shared with cheerful courage, while his name was the terror of all peaceful citizens. "Thunder and lightning, devouring fire," wrote a contemporary, "are not more terrible than the Marquis Albert on the battle-field."[402] But there was a fascination about this ruthless dare-devil which no woman could resist. His sisters were passionately devoted to him, and Bona, the Queen of Poland, tried in vain to marry him to one of her daughters. Roger Ascham describes him as

"another Achilles, his face fair and beautiful, but stern and manly, with flowing locks and great rolling eyes, yet with a sad, restless look, as if he was ever seeking what he could not find. A man of few words withal, but with a deep, strong voice, ever more ready to hear than to speak."[403]

There seemed no heights to which this soldier of fortune could not aspire. The Emperor treated him with fatherly affection, and the Queen and the Duchess of Lorraine honoured the sumptuous banquets, in which he displayed his usual prodigality, careless of the debts with which he was already loaded.

Once more rumour was busy with Christina's name. The Marquis Albert proclaimed himself her devoted servant, and her marriage with the young King Sigismund of Poland was seriously discussed at Augsburg. This monarch's wife, the Archduchess Elizabeth, had died before his accession, and his sister, the Electress Hedwig of Brandenburg, was eager to bring about a union between him and the Duchess of Lorraine;[404] but, as usual, these rumours ended in smoke, and the only marriage announced at Augsburg was that of the Archduke Max and his cousin the Infanta Maria of Spain, an alliance which had long been privately arranged.

[Sidenote: JUNE, 1548] THE INTERIM]

Early in the New Year another distinguished person arrived at Augsburg, in the person of the great Venetian master, Titian. He came in obedience to an urgent summons from the Emperor, and during the next few months painted a magnificent series of portraits, including those of Charles and Ferdinand, the captive Elector of Saxony, Chancellor Granvelle, his wife, and his son, the Bishop of Arras, who was a great admirer of Titian's art. Fourteen years before, this same master had taken Christina's portrait, when she came to Milan as the youthful bride of Francesco Sforza; now he saw her again in the flower of her womanhood, and, had opportunity offered, would doubtless have painted her again. But disquieting rumours of unrest on the frontiers of Lorraine reached Augsburg, and on the 16th of February the Duchess set out on her return to Nancy. The Emperor gave his niece a costly ring as a parting present, and Archduke Max, the Marquis Albert, the Prince of Piedmont, together with the Countess Palatine and the Princess of Orange, escorted her some leagues on her way. When, a month later, the Queen of Hungary left Augsburg, she paid Christina a visit at Nancy, bringing with her Anne of Lorraine and William, the young Prince of Orange, a promising boy of fifteen, who was being educated at Court, and met with a kindly welcome from the Duchess and her subjects for the sake of the lamented Prince whose name he bore.[405] By Mary's advice, the Regents took active measures for the defence of the frontier and the fortification of Nancy. An arsenal was founded, and two bastions, which became known as those of Denmark and Vaudemont, were built near the palace. Other improvements were carried out at the same time: the marshy ground under the walls was thoroughly drained, and converted into a spacious square called La Place de la Carrière; many of the streets were paved and widened; and the Count of Salm, Bassompierre, and several of the nobles, built fine new houses along the Grande Rue, opposite the Galerie des Cerfs.[406]

The Emperor remained at Augsburg throughout the summer, endeavouring to effect a lasting settlement of the religious question. On the 30th of June the so-called "Interim" was proclaimed, a compromise which satisfied no one, and was described by Thomas Hoby, a young Englishman who came to Augsburg this summer on his way to Italy, as an attempt to set up the old Babylon again in Germany.[407] A fortnight later the Diet was prorogued, and Charles started for the Netherlands, where he arrived on the 8th of September, after more than two years' absence.

A few weeks before his arrival a marriage had taken place, greatly to Mary's satisfaction, between the widowed Princess of Orange and the Duke of Aerschot.[408] This nobleman, the premier peer of the realm and doyen of the Golden Fleece, had lost his second wife in 1544, but was still in the prime of life, and, as his daughter-in-law, Louise de Guise, told her sister, was honoured and beloved throughout the Netherlands. Christina could not herself be present at the wedding, but her brother-in-law Nicolas went to Brussels to give his sister away. Here he fell in love with Count Egmont's sister Margaret, and asked her hand in marriage. This alliance met with the warm approval of the Emperor and the Regent, but caused Christina many searchings of heart. Already more than one attempt had been made by the Guises to marry Vaudemont to a French bride, and she feared that this union would excite great displeasure in some quarters. In her alarm she wrote to the Emperor, begging him to forbid the marriage as dangerous to the welfare of her State. Charles, however, declined to interfere, and sent Granvelle's brother, Chantonnay, to advise his niece politely to mind her own business.

"Since the Count of Vaudemont is bent on marrying," he wrote to his Envoy, "it is far better that he should come here for a wife than go to France; and the Duchess need not feel in any way responsible for the alliance, which is entirely his own doing.... And, indeed, I do not see how he could honourably break his word, since we ourselves urged our cousins of Egmont to agree to his proposals. But tell him to come here as soon as he can, to prevent the French from making any more mischief!"[409]

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

There was nothing more to be said, and the wedding was celebrated in the Court chapel at Brussels, after vespers, on the 23rd of January, 1549. The bride, richly clad in cloth of gold and decked with priceless gems, was led to the altar by the Queen, while Charles brought in the bridegroom. A banquet and masque were afterwards held in the palace, at the close of which Mary once more took the bride by the hand and conducted her into the nuptial chamber, hung with crimson brocade and costly tapestries. The next morning the newly-wedded Countess appeared at Mass, in another costume of green velvet embroidered in silver, and jousts and dances succeeded each other during the following three days, ending with a magnificent banquet given by the Duchess of Aerschot.[410]

Among the company present on this occasion was the Dowager Queen Eleanor, who came to Brussels on the 5th of December, to make her home with her beloved brother and sister. On his death-bed Francis I. was seized with remorse for the way in which he had neglected his wife, and begged his daughter Margaret to atone for his shortcomings. But although Margaret carried out her father's last instructions faithfully, and asked his widow to remain at Court, the new King showed his stepmother scanty kindness, and Eleanor left France with few regrets. Another guest at Margaret of Egmont's wedding was Christina's cousin, Duke Adolf of Holstein, the King of Denmark's youngest brother. Most of his life had been spent in Germany, and he had taken part in the campaign of Mühlberg with his friend Albert of Brandenburg. Now, following the wild Marquis's example, he came to Brussels in October, 1548, and entered the Emperor's service. This new recruit was cordially welcomed, and gave a signal proof of his valour by carrying off the first prize in the tournament held at the palace.

Christina herself maintained the prudent attitude which she had adopted with regard to Vaudemont's marriage, and refused to countenance by her presence a union which excited much unfriendly criticism in France. Two other weddings in which she was also keenly interested took place about the same time. On the 20th of October her old suitor, the brilliant and volatile Duke of Vendôme, was married at Moulins to Jeanne d'Albret, the heiress of Navarre. This strong-minded Princess, who refused to wed the Duke of Cleves, and took objection to Aumale because his brother was the husband of Diane de Poitiers's daughter, fell suddenly in love with Vendôme, and insisted on marrying him in spite of her mother's opposition. So radiant was Jeanne on her wedding-day that King Henry declared her to be the most joyous bride whom he had ever seen. Six weeks later Aumale himself was married at St. Germain to Anna d'Este, daughter of Duke Ercole II. of Ferrara and Renée of France. Ronsard sang the praises of this Italian Venus who had taken the Mars of France for her lord, and Vendôme, gay and inconsequent as ever, sent his old rival in war and love a merry letter, bidding him follow his good example, and stay at home to play the good husband.[411] This union with the King's first cousin satisfied the highest ambitions of the Guises, while Anna's charm and goodness were a source of lasting content to Duchess Antoinette. Christina was one of the first to greet the bride on her arrival at Joinville. At first the two Princesses, Brantôme tells us, looked at each other shyly, but with evident curiosity. The tale of Aumale's courtship was well known, and Christina naturally felt keen interest in the Este Princess who came from Beatrice's home and was the cousin of Francesco Sforza. "Anna," writes the chronicler, "was tall and beautiful, but very gentle and amiable. The two ladies met and conversed together, and were soon the best of friends."[412]

[Sidenote: MARCH, 1549] CHRISTINA AT BRUSSELS]

IV.

Christina's absence from her brother-in-law's wedding had been a great disappointment to her aunts, and she received a pressing invitation to come to Brussels for the fêtes in honour of the Prince of Spain, whose arrival was expected early in the spring of 1549. Accordingly, on the 28th of March the Duchess reached Brussels, attended by the Princess of Macedonia, and was received by the Grand-Écuyer Boussu and a brilliant escort of gentlemen. One of these was the Marquis Albert, whose name of late had been frequently coupled with her own, the other his friend Duke Adolf of Holstein. Christina naturally hailed this meeting with her cousin, especially now that his brother, King Christian, had alleviated the rigour of her father's captivity. Since the Palatine had abandoned all attempts to maintain his wife's claims, the reigning monarch had agreed to release his unfortunate kinsman from the dungeons of Sonderburg. On the 17th of February the two Kings met and dined together in a friendly manner, after which the deposed monarch was removed to Kallundborg, a pleasantly-situated castle on a promontory of Zeeland, where he spent the remaining ten years of his life in comparative freedom.[413] This, indeed, was all that the Emperor desired. In a secret paper of instructions which he drew up for Philip in case of his own death, he enjoined his son to cultivate peaceable relations with the King of Denmark, and do his utmost to keep the Princesses Dorothea and Christina in his good graces, and insure their father's good treatment, "without allowing him such a measure of liberty as might enable him to assert his old claims and injure our State of Flanders as he did before."[414]

Unfortunately, the interest with which Christina regarded the Danish Prince proved fatal to Adolf's friendship with the Marquis. Before the outbreak of the Schmalkalde War, Adolf had become affianced to Albert's sister, Fräulein Kunigunde. The wedding-day was fixed, and the citizens of Nuremberg had prepared gold rings and jewels for the bride, but the disturbed state of Denmark compelled the Duke to postpone his marriage for a time. Then, as ill-luck would have it, he met the Duchess of Lorraine at the New Year festivities at Augsburg, and fell desperately in love with her. From this moment he forgot Fräulein Kunigunde, and took the first excuse he could find to break off his engagement. Albert never forgave the wrong, and, although the two Princes met at Brussels and walked side by side in the Court chapel on Candlemas Day, the old friendship between them was turned to bitter enmity.[415]

[Sidenote: APRIL, 1549] PHILIP OF SPAIN]

But now private grievances had to be put aside, and friends and foes alike joined in the public rejoicings which welcomed the Prince of Spain's arrival. Charles was anxious to present his son to his future subjects in the most favourable light, and no pains were spared to produce a good impression both on Philip himself and on the loyal people of Brabant. On the 1st of April, Mary of Hungary, Christina, and Anne of Aerschot, accompanied by the whole Court, received the Prince at Ter Vueren, where they entertained him at dinner and witnessed a military parade and sham-fight on the plains outside the town. In the evening Philip made his state entry into Brussels, clad in crimson velvet and riding on a superb war-horse, attended by Albert of Brandenburg, Adolf of Holstein, the Princes of Piedmont, Orange, and Chimay, Alva, Egmont, Pescara, and many other illustrious personages. The chief burghers and city guilds met the Prince at Ter Vueren, and escorted him to the palace gates, where the two Queens and Christina conducted him into the Emperor's presence. Philip fell on his knees, and his father embraced him with tears in his eyes, and conversed with him for over an hour. At nightfall the whole city was illuminated, and bonfires blazed from all the neighbouring heights. The next day a tournament was held on the Grande Place, and a splendid gold cup was presented to the Prince by the city, while the States of Brabant voted him a gift of 100,000 florins and hailed him with acclamation as the Emperor's successor. But in the evening these rejoicings were interrupted by the news of the Duke of Aerschot's sudden death. He had gone to Spires to meet the Prince, but had over-exerted himself, and died very suddenly at his castle of Quievrain. It was a grievous blow to Anne of Lorraine, who was once more left a widow, before she had been married quite nine months. The deepest sympathy was felt for her at Court, and Mary lamented the loss of her wisest Councillor. All festivities were put off till Easter. Philip spent Holy Week in devotional exercises, and rode to S. Gudule on Palm Sunday, at the head of a solemn procession of knights bearing palms.

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

Charles took advantage of this quiet season to initiate his son into the administration of public affairs and make him acquainted with the leading nobles of the Netherlands. But the impression produced by Philip was far from being a favourable one. Short in stature and blond in complexion, with his father's wide forehead and projecting jaw, he was Flemish in appearance, but Spanish by nature. His taciturn air and haughty and reserved manners formed a striking contrast to the frank and genial ways which endeared Charles V. to all classes of his subjects. Thomas Hoby, who saw Philip at Mantua, noticed what "small countenance" he made to the crowd who greeted his entry, and heard that he had already "acquired a name for insolency." Wherever he went it was the same. "His severe and morose appearance," wrote the Venetian Suriano, "has made him disagreeable to the Italians, hated by the Flemings, and odious to the Germans." His marked preference for all that was Spanish gave deadly offence to the Emperor's old servants, and people in Brussels said openly that when Philip came to the throne no one but Spaniards would be employed at Court. In vain his father and aunt warned him that this exclusive temper was ill-suited to a Prince who was called to rule over subjects of many nations. He spoke little in public and rarely smiled. During the year which he spent at Brussels people said that he was never seen to laugh except on one occasion, when all the Court witnessed the famous national fête of the Ommegang from the hôtel-de-ville, on the Fête-Dieu. Among the varied groups in the procession was a bear playing on an organ, while children dressed up as monkeys danced to the music, and unhappy cats tied by the tail in cages filled the air with discordant cries. At the sight of these grotesque figures even Philip's gravity gave way, and he laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks.[416]

This cold and haughty Prince, who took no pains to commend himself to his future subjects, showed a marked preference from the first for his cousin Christina. He sought her company on every possible occasion, gave her rich presents, and devoted himself to her service with an ardour which became a cause of serious annoyance to his aunts.

"Queen Eleanor," wrote the French Ambassador Marillac, "is always trying to treat of her daughter's marriage with the Prince, but with very little success, and the great attentions which he pays the Duchess of Lorraine, the evident delight which he takes in her society, and the gifts which he bestows upon her, have excited great jealousy."[417]

Before long Christina herself found Philip's attentions embarrassing, and felt that it would be the path of wisdom to leave Court. She was present, however, at a second tournament given on the Grande Place, on the 6th of May. That day Count d'Aremberg (the husband of Christina's intimate friend Margaret la Marck), Mansfeldt, Horn, and Floris de Montmorency, held the lists against all assailants, while Alva and Francesco d'Este were the judges. Philip, who inherited little of his father's taste for knightly exercises, but had been practising riding and jousting diligently during the last few weeks, entered the lists, and was awarded a fine ruby as a prize, Egmont and the Prince of Piedmont being the other victors. Albert of Brandenburg was present, but declined to take part in the tournament. He had seldom been seen at Court since Philip's arrival and spent most of his time in his own quarters, compiling an account of his grievances against the Emperor. One day Charles, fearing to lose his services, sent Granvelle to offer him an honourable and lucrative office in the Imperial Mint. Albert replied loftily that, since he was born a Brandenburg, no office which the Emperor had to bestow, could exalt his station, and that as he never managed to keep a sixpence in his own pocket, he would rather not attempt to meddle with other people's money. A few days after this he asked leave to retire to his own domains. The last time that he appeared in public was at the banquet which followed the tournament, in the hôtel-de-ville; here he sat at the Emperor's table, opposite the Duchess of Lorraine, who was placed between Philip and Emanuel Philibert of Piedmont, while Adolf of Holstein sat next to the Princess of Macedonia. All these illustrious guests joined in the ball which closed the day's festivities, and dancing was kept up with great spirit until after midnight.[418]

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

Early the next morning Christina left Brussels, accompanied by Vaudemont's wife, Margaret of Egmont, and escorted for several miles on her journey by the Prince of Spain. Three weeks later the Marquis Albert also left Court, without taking leave of the Emperor or the Queens. His abrupt departure excited general surprise, and no one knew whether it was due to his quarrel with the Duke of Holstein, or to some imaginary affront from the Prince or the Duchess of Lorraine; but when he was at some distance from the town he sent back a warrant for a pension of 4,000 crowns a year, which he had received from the Emperor, as a sign that he was no longer in his service.

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.