II.

King Henry's marriage to Anne of Cleves, as Southampton told his master, was exceedingly unpopular in the Netherlands. The alliance of so powerful a monarch with Duke William was fraught with danger, and the people bitterly resented the insult which, in their eyes, had been offered to the Duchess of Milan. The merchants of Antwerp said openly that, if King Henry chose to break faith with their Princess, he should not enjoy the company of another wife, and declared they would not allow the Lady Anne to pass through their city. The Cleves Envoys in England were so much alarmed by these reports that they travelled back to Düren in disguise, and advised the bride to take the sea-route from Germany. But Mary of Hungary was too wise to show her annoyance, and sent a gracious message to Henry, saying that she would send Count Büren to wait on the Lady Anne, on her journey through the Emperor's dominions. The King wrote back in high glee to thank "his dearest sister," and on the 27th of December his new bride landed safely at Dover.[260] The loyal citizens of Flanders consoled themselves with the thought that, if their Duchess was not to be Queen of England, they would keep her among them, and the old rumour was persistently repeated: "She shall marry the Prince of Orange." All through the past year René had devoted himself to Christina's service, had worn her favours and broken lances in her honour. Her Italian servants called him openly the Duchess's cavaliere sirvente.[261] But it was plain to Italians and Flemings alike that the affection was not at all on one side, and that this gallant Prince had won Christina's heart. Old courtiers smiled kindly on the young couple, and ladies drew aside discreetly to leave them together. They were eminently fitted for each other by age, race and character. If the succession to the principality of Orange, which had been lately restored by the French King, hardly entitled René to a place among the reigning Princes of Europe, at least he could offer her splendid homes at Brussels and Breda, and a position which many ladies of royal birth might envy. The Countess Palatine Dorothea privately encouraged the Prince, and her husband warmly approved of the match, and said openly that, since his sister-in-law could not be King Henry's wife, she had better marry the man of her choice, and not waste the best years of her life, as he himself had done.[262]

Sept., 1539] THE REVOLT OF GHENT

Queen Mary was, clearly, not averse to the Prince's suit, and had a strong liking for René; but reasons of State prevented her from giving the union her public sanction, and all parties were agreed that nothing could be arranged until the Emperor's arrival. The date of his journey was now definitely fixed, and in November Mary told the English Ambassador Vaughan that her brother would be at Brussels by the New Year. Charles at length realized the critical situation of affairs, and saw that if he wished to keep his provinces de par-deça he must no longer delay his coming.[263] In September, 1539, the citizens of Ghent, who had long been discontented, broke into open revolt. After refusing to pay their share of the subsidy voted by the States, the leading citizens put to death their chief magistrate, Lieven Pyl, because he declined to bear their insolent message to the Regent, and proceeded to tear up the famous "Calf-vel," a parchment deed containing an agreement which they had made with Charles V. twenty-four years before. Worse than all, they sent deputies to King Francis, asking him to defend their liberties against the Emperor. At the first tidings of these disorders Mary hastened to Malines and took energetic measures to suppress the insurrection, which had already spread to several of the neighbouring towns.[264] For some weeks the alarm was great, and watchers were posted on the tower of S. Rombaut night and day; but the Queen's presence of mind, and the support of her able lieutenants, Aerschot and De Courrières, who was now Bailiff of Alost, succeeded in confining the mutiny to the walls of Ghent. A simultaneous rising at Maestricht was put down by the Prince of Orange, who raised 300 horse and hastened to restore order in that city. But the citizens of Ghent still openly defied the Regent, although Francis, to do him credit, refused to help the rebels. More than this, he addressed a letter with his own royal hand to Charles, saying that, if the Emperor was coming to chastise his revolted subjects, he hoped that he would do him the honour of passing through France, assuring him, on the faith of a Prince, that every possible honour and hospitality would be shown him.[265]

So critical was the situation, both with regard to Ghent and Guelders, that Charles decided to accept the offer and take the shortest route to Flanders.

"My good brother the Emperor," wrote Francis to his Ambassador in England, "is coming to visit me on his way to the Low Countries, a thing which not only does me the greatest honour, content, and pleasure, but is a proof of the good and perfect friendship between us."

He expressed the same feelings in still stronger terms to Wyatt, whom Cromwell sent to Blois in December to be present at the meeting of the two monarchs.

"The Emperor," he added, "is doing me the greatest honour that can be, by coming to visit me, and showing thereby that he taketh me for an honest man."[266]

Nov., 1539] A SPLENDID RECEPTION

On the 23rd of November Charles left Burgos, and four days later he entered Bayonne, attended by the Dauphin and the Constable Montmorency, whom the King had sent to meet him on the frontier. He had begged Francis to dispense with ceremonies, as his great object was to reach Flanders as quickly as possible, and to excuse him from entering on political matters, since he could not decide anything of importance until he had seen the Queen-Regent.[267] But, in spite of this request, he was everywhere received with the utmost pomp and festivity. Triumphal arches were erected at the city gates, and the prison doors were thrown open at his entrance. Bordeaux presented him with 300 barrels of wine, Poitiers gave him a golden eagle, Orleans a dinner-service of richly chased plate. The meeting of the two monarchs took place at Loches on the 10th of December. Charles, clad in deep mourning, walked under a canopy of cloth of gold, adorned with the imperial eagles, across the picturesque court to the gates of the castle, where King Francis met him, surrounded by a brilliant company. Three times over he embraced his guest, and led him to the hall, where Eleanor, in robes of purple satin glittering with pearls, welcomed her brother with transports of joy. Banquets and hunting-parties now followed each other, as the Court journeyed by slow stages along the banks of the Loire, from one fair château to another. At Amboise a heap of tow caught fire as Charles rode up the famous spiral staircase in the dusk, and he narrowly escaped being suffocated. But, mercifully, no one was injured, and Francis escorted his imperial brother by way of Blois and Orleans to Fontainebleau, where Christmas was spent and the Emperor was allowed to enjoy a week's rest. On New Year's Day the Emperor entered Paris, where the Parliament and University received him "as if he were a god from heaven," and the following motto was inscribed on the gates in golden letters:

"Ouvre, Paris, ouvre tes hautes portes,
Entrer y veut le plus grand des Chrétiens."[268]

Queen Eleanor, who scarcely left her brother's side, took him to see the Sainte Chapelle which St. Louis had built to receive the Crown of Thorns, and escorted him to the Louvre, where sumptuous rooms had been prepared for his reception. On Sunday a grand tournament was held on the Place des Tournelles, in front of the palace which then occupied the Place des Vosges, and the Duke of Vendôme and the Count of Aumale opened the joust, while it was closed by Francis of Lorraine, the Marquis of Pont-à-Mousson. Charles left Paris on the 7th of January, and was presented by the city with a silver model of the Column of Hercules, seven feet high, bearing his motto, Plus oultre.[269] The King took his guest to dine at his new pleasure-house, the Château de Madrid, accompanied him to St. Denis, where he visited the Tomb of the Kings, and went on to the Constable's house at Chantilly. Finally, on the 20th, the Emperor took his leave of the King and Queen at St. Quentin, and with tears in his eyes thanked his host for this truly brotherly reception.[270]

Jan., 1540] THE CALENDAR OF FOOLS

In spite of the sinister warnings which Charles had received before he set out on his journey, in spite of Mary of Hungary's fears and of Madame d'Étampes' thinly-veiled hostility, the experiment had proved a brilliant success. Spanish and French poets celebrated the triumph of Peace over War, and the return of the golden age. And Charles himself laughed heartily when the King's jester, Triboulet, told him that he had inscribed His Imperial Majesty's name on his Calendar of Fools, because he had been so rash as to venture into his enemy's country, but now that he had reached the end of his journey without mishap, he should rub out Charles's name, and write that of Francis in its place.[271]

The French King went home in high delight, and wrote to Marillac saying that now all his differences with the Emperor would be easily arranged. During those five weeks the King had respected his guest's wishes and avoided politics, but the Constable, who enjoyed the Emperor's confidence in a high degree, had made good use of this opportunity, and flattered himself that he had been entirely successful. He was above all anxious to effect a marriage between the widowed Emperor and the King's daughter, and told Granvelle that Madame Marguerite was a rose among thorns, an angel among devils, and that, if His Imperial Majesty thought of making a second marriage, he could not do better. But Charles was firmly resolved never to take another wife, and, when the Constable pressed the point after he had left France, wrote that he must beg the King to give up all idea of such a union, as he did not intend to marry again, and was too old for Madame Marguerite.[272]

1539-41] A COURTLY FAREWELL

In spite of the splendour and cordiality of his reception, Charles was sad and tired, and longed more than all else to find himself among his kindred and people. It was with heartfelt relief that he reached Cambray, and found the Prince of Orange, the Duke of Aerschot, and his faithful De Courrières, with the Archers' Guard, awaiting him. The next day he went on to Valenciennes, where his loyal subjects welcomed his return with passionate joy. Triumphal arches adorned the streets, and the houses were hung with tapestries. Now it was his turn to act as host, and do honour to the Dauphin and Duke of Orleans, who, with Vendôme, the Constable, and Aumale, the Duke of Guise's eldest son, had insisted on escorting him across the frontier.[273] The keys of the city were presented to the Dauphin at the Cambray gate, torches blazed all along the streets, and the bells rang merry peals as Charles led the way to the ancient hôtel-de-ville, known as La Salle, where the Queen of Hungary and the Duchess of Milan received him with open arms. The next two days were given up to mirth and festivity. Charles showed the French Princes the sights of the town, while the Constable was invited to dine alone with the Queen and her niece, and sat down to table between the two royal ladies. A splendid banquet was followed by a ball, which lasted far on into the morning. All the ladies appeared in magnificent costumes—French, Italian, Flemish, or Spanish, as they chose—and wore the richest jewels. The Emperor moved through the vast hall, blithe and debonair beyond his wont, jesting with his old friends and rejoicing to be once more in his native land. Mary and Christina, both of whom, remarks the chronicler, although widows, were still young and beautiful, danced with the French Princes all the evening, and were in high spirits.[274] There was much gay talk, and the Pope's Legate, the young Cardinal Farnese, amused the guests with stories of the latest gossip from the Court of England, which Queen Eleanor had heard from Marillac. According to him, the new Queen, Anne of Cleves, was too old and ugly for King Henry's taste, while her dresses and those of her German "Fraus" were so monstrous that the King would not allow them to appear at Court, and told his wife to adopt French fashions.[275]

The next morning the French Princes appeared early to bid the Queen farewell, and were very gracious in their manner of leave-taking. The Dauphin received a superb diamond jewel in the shape of a griffin, and a very fine emerald was bestowed on the Constable. There was some talk of a marriage between the Duke of Orleans and a daughter of King Ferdinand, while the King of Navarre and his wife, Margaret of Angoulême, were eager for a match between their only daughter, Jeanne, and the Prince of Spain. Vendôme probably realized that he had little chance of winning the Duchess of Milan, but he shrugged his shoulders and went his way gaily, saying he would wed the Pope's granddaughter, Vittoria Farnese, the sister of the boy Cardinal. And they all rode off in high spirits to join the King at La Fère and show him the Emperor's costly gifts. They met him on his way back from hunting, riding at the side of the Queen's litter, clad in a scarlet cloak, which made the English Ambassador remark how much better Eleanor was treated since her brother's visit. And the whole Court, in Bishop Bonner's words, "made much demonstration of gladness, thinking they have God by the foot."[276]