II.
The King of France's ill-temper was the one drawback to the general satisfaction with which Christina's marriage had been received. The coldness with which he treated the Duke of Lorraine and his son, the sacrifice of their rights on Bar, rankled in the old man's heart. His surprise was the greater when he received a courteous invitation to bring his son and daughter-in-law on a visit to the French Court. His brother the Cardinal wrote saying that Queen Eleanor was anxious to see her niece, and that the King wished to confer the Order of St. Michel on her lord, and begged Duke Antoine to accompany the young couple to Fontainebleau.
Christina and her husband, who since his marriage had become a strong Imperialist, were reluctant to accept the invitation, lest an attempt should be made to draw Lorraine into an alliance against the Emperor. But the Cardinal's bland promises and Antoine's anxiety to keep on good terms with the King prevailed over their hesitation, and early in November the two Dukes and the young Duchess spent three days at Fontainebleau. Hunting-parties and banquets occupied the first two days. Eleanor took the greatest delight in her niece's company, and the King, who could never resist a woman's charms, was assiduous in his attention to Christina. The Queen of Navarre's presence afforded the Duchess additional pleasure, and this accomplished Princess showed her Leonardo and Raphael's paintings, and did the honours of the superb palace which had excited the Emperor's admiration two years before. On the third evening the King expressed his wish to confer the Order of St. Michel on the young Duke in so pressing a manner that it was impossible to refuse this offer. But an unpleasant surprise was in store for him and his father. The next morning the Cardinal informed them that the King demanded the cession of the town and fortress of Stenay, in return for the privilege of holding the duchy of Bar. This unexpected demand aroused an indignant protest from Antoine and Francis. Stenay was one of the bulwarks of Lorraine, and its position on the frontiers of Luxembourg made it of great importance to the defence of the empire. But nothing that the Duke and his son could say was of the slightest avail. They were told that if Stenay was not surrendered peaceably the King would declare war and reduce their country to subjection. These threats alarmed the old Duke to such a pitch that before leaving Fontainebleau he was induced to sign a treaty by which Stenay was given up in perpetuity to the French Crown. It was a grievous blow to the prestige of Lorraine, and filled Christina and her husband with grave fears for the future. The following letter which the Duchess wrote to Granvelle a few weeks afterwards shows how bitterly she resented the wrong:
Nov., 1541] THE CESSION OF STENAY
"You have no doubt heard of the voyage which the Lord Duke my father-in-law, my husband, and I, took to the French Court, where we made a very short stay, but one which turned out very badly for our house. For the King used violent threats to my father and husband, and sent my uncle the Cardinal to tell them that, if they did not satisfy his demands, he would prove their worst enemy, and make them the smallest people in the world. So they were compelled to give him the town of Stenay, which is a great loss to this house, and has vexed my husband and me sorely, showing us how much we are despised on that side, and to what risk of destruction we should be exposed if it were not for the good help of the Emperor, in whom I place my whole trust."[329]
Unfortunately for the Duchess and her husband, Charles was at this moment engaged in his disastrous expedition to Algiers. The news of the tempest which wrecked his fleet on the coast of Africa had reached the French Court, and it was confidently asserted that the Emperor himself had perished, or was a prisoner in Barbarossa's camp. These disquieting rumours were set at rest early in December by his safe return to Cartagena with the remnants of his army. But his enemies had been active in his absence. On the 15th of November the Duke of Lorraine set his seal to the deed of cession, and a week later a French garrison took possession of Stenay. General indignation was excited throughout Europe by this arbitrary act. Mary of Hungary entered a vigorous protest in her brother's name against this surrender of an imperial fief, and no sooner did the news reach Charles than he told his Ambassador to require the French King to do homage for the town. The new English Ambassador, Paget, who arrived at Fontainebleau a few days after the Lorraine Princes left Court, noticed that the King "looked very black, as if the Imperial Envoy had spoken of matters not all the pleasantest"; while he informed his royal master that the entertainment of the Duke of Lorraine had been but cold, and that he had lost all credit with the French.[330] When Chapuys told King Henry at Christmas how King Francis had snatched Stenay from the Duke of Lorraine, the English monarch only shrugged his shoulders, saying he had always known no good would come out of that marriage.[331]
Meanwhile Christina and her husband found some consolation for their wounded feelings in the friendly reception which they met with at Joinville, on their return from France. The Duke and Duchess of Guise came to meet them at Annonville, and were eager to do honour to their nephew's bride and show her the beauties of their stately home. They had lately decorated the halls and chapel with paintings and statues, and Antoinette had laid out terraced gardens along the wooded slopes on the River Marne, adorned with pavilions and fountains. Nothing escaped the eye of this excellent lady, who watched over the education of her children and the welfare of her servants, and managed her kitchen, stables, and kennels, with the same indefatigable care. Her household was a model of economy and prudence, and her works of mercy extended far beyond the limits of Joinville. The active correspondence which she kept up with her eldest daughter, the Queen of Scotland, abounds in details regarding every member of her family, and above all her little grandson, the Duke of Longueville. The Duchess's letters are naturally full of this precious boy, who was the pet and plaything of the whole household, and on whose perfections she is never tired of dwelling. For his mother's benefit, she sends minute records of his height and appearance, of the progress which he is making at lessons, the walks which he takes with his nurse.
Nov., 1541] AT JOINVILLE
"We have here now," she wrote to Mary of Guise, on the 18th of November, "not only your uncle, but the Duke and Duchess of Bar, on their way back from Court. They are all making good cheer with us, and your father is so busy entertaining them that you will hardly have a letter from him this time. Your eldest brother [Aumale] is here too, but goes to join the King at Fontainebleau next week. I shall go to my mother [the old Countess of Vendôme], who is quite well, and so also is the good old Queen, your grandmother. I have kept as a bonne bouche for you a word about our grandson, who will soon be a man, and is the finest child that you ever saw. I am trying to find a painter who can show you how tall, healthy, and handsome, he is."
Sad news had lately come from Scotland, where the Queen's two children, a boy of a year old and a new-born babe, had died in the same week. Antoinette's motherly heart yearned over her absent daughter in this sudden bereavement.
"Your father and I are sorely grieved at the loss you have suffered," she wrote to Mary; "but you are both young, and I can only hope that God, who took away those dear little ones, will send you others.... If I were good enough for my prayers to be of any avail with God, I would pray for this, but I can at least have prayers offered up by others who are better than I am, especially by the good Queen in her convent and her holy nuns. We are glad to hear the King bears his loss with resignation, and trust God will give you patience to live for Him in this world and in the next, to which tribulation is the surest way."
And in a postscript she adds a word of practical advice, saying that she did not like to hear of the poor babes having so many different nurses, and fears this may have been one cause of the mischief.[332]
In return for this affectionate sympathy, King James sent his mother-in-law a fine diamond and a portrait of himself, which arrived during Christina's visit, and excited much interest at Joinville. All the Duchess of Guise's daughters were absent from home, the youngest, Antoinette, having joined her sister, Abbess Renée, in the convent at Reims, where she afterwards took the veil. But her eldest son, as we have seen, was at Joinville on this occasion. A tall, dark-haired, olive-skinned youth, recklessly brave and adventurous, Aumale was a great favourite both in Court and camp, and his mother had been sadly disappointed at the failure of the marriage negotiations, which had cost her so much time and trouble. The Pope's daughter, Vittoria Farnese, who was to have been his wife, had since then been offered in turn to the Prince of Piedmont and the Duke of Vendôme, and was eventually married to the Duke of Urbino. Aumale himself cared little for the loss of the Italian bride, whom he had never seen, and had hitherto shown no eagerness for matrimony, but the sight of Christina made a deep impression upon him, and he never forgot his fair cousin's visit to Joinville. The most friendly relations prevailed between the two families, and frequent visits were interchanged during the winter. Christmas was celebrated with prolonged festivities at Nancy, and on the 6th of February the old Duke wrote from Joinville to his niece, the Queen of Scotland:
"Your father and I have spent the last week together, and have made great cheer with all our family. Your son, De Longueville, is very well, and has grown a fine boy.
"Your very humble and affectionate uncle,
"Antoine."[333]
Feb., 1542] CHRISTINA'S ANXIETIES
In spite of these distractions, Christina found it difficult to make her husband forget the loss of Stenay. The injustice which had been done to the House of Lorraine still rankled in his mind, and he feared that the Emperor would hold him responsible for the surrender of the town, and regard it as an act of disloyalty. Christina accordingly addressed a long letter to Granvelle, explaining that her husband had been very reluctant to accept the French Order of St. Michel, and had only done this at his father's express command, before there had been any mention of surrendering Stenay. Now she feared that the King might make some fresh demand, which would complete the destruction of the ducal house, and could only beg the Emperor to help them with his advice and support.
"For you may rest assured," she goes on, "that, whatever His Majesty is pleased to command, my husband and I will obey, although, as you know, my father-in-law is somewhat difficult to please, and we must do his will for the present. So I beg you earnestly to point this out to His Majesty, and ask him to give us his advice; for since our return to Nancy my husband has been so sad and melancholy, and so full of regret for the great wrong which his house has suffered, that I am quite afraid it will injure his health. Once more I beg you, Monsieur de Granvelle, to be a good friend to us in the present, as you have been in the past ... for we have received so much kindness from you that I hope you will not hesitate to give us whatever advice seems best in your eyes. As for me, I am so much indebted to you for having helped to place me where I am, that you and yours will always find me ready to do you service. For I can never forget that it is to you I owe my present great happiness."[334]
Jan., 1542] KING HENRY'S WIVES
Charles, however, wrote kindly to his niece, and refused to listen to the unkind tongues who tried to poison his mind against her husband. By degrees the young Duke recovered his equanimity, and devoted his attention to beautifying the ducal palace of Nancy. In the last years of Renée's life a Lorraine artist, Hugues de la Faye, had been employed to paint subjects from the life of Christ at one end of the "Galerie des Cerfs," and hunting-scenes at the other. Christina's presence gave new impulse to the work, and the large quantity of gold-leaf and azure supplied to the painters in the Duke's service, show how actively the internal decoration of the palace was carried on. In one particular instance Christina's influence is clearly to be traced. By Duke Antoine's orders, a fresco of the Last Supper was begun by Hugues de la Faye in the refectory of the Cordeliers, but was only completed after this painter's death in 1542, by Crock and Chappin. These two Lorraine artists were sent to Italy by Duke Francis soon after his accession, and visited Milan amongst other places. Here they saw Leonardo's famous "Cenacolo" in the refectory of S. Maria le Grazie, which was closely connected with the Sforza Princes, and must have been very familiar to Christina when she lived in Milan. The fresco which they executed at Nancy is said to have been a replica of Leonardo's great work, and kneeling figures of Antoine and Renée were introduced on the same wall, in imitation of the portraits of Lodovico Sforza and Beatrice d'Este which are still to be seen in the Dominican refectory at Milan. Unfortunately, the Lorraine masters' painting suffered a still worse fate than Leonardo's immortal work, and, after being partly spoilt by damp, was finally destroyed thirty years ago and replaced by a modern copy.[335]
During this winter, when Christina was happily settled in her new home and surrounded by loyal friends and subjects, news came from England of the trial and execution of Henry VIII.'s fifth Queen, Catherine Howard. When the Duke and Duchess were at Fontainebleau, rumours reached the Court that this unhappy lady, of whom Henry was deeply enamoured but a short time before, had been suddenly banished from his presence, and taken into custody. "Par ma foi de gentil homme!" exclaimed King Francis when he heard the account of the Queen's misdeeds. "She has done wondrous naughtily!"[336] But in England, as Chapuys reported, much compassion was felt for the King's latest victim, who had dragged down the noble house of Howard in her fall. Lord William Howard, the late Ambassador, was hastily recalled from France, and sent to the Tower with his mother, the old Duchess of Norfolk. The King himself, wrote Chapuys, felt the case more than that of any of his other wives, just as the woman who had lost ten husbands grieved more for the tenth when he died than for any of the other nine! But when the luckless Queen was beheaded, Henry recovered his spirits, and spent Carnival in feasting and entertaining ladies with a gaiety which made people think that he meant to marry again. "But few, if any, ladies of the Court," remarked Chapuys, "now aspire to the honour of becoming one of the King's wives."[337]
It was an honour to which Christina herself had never aspired. One day at the Court of Nancy, conversation turned on the King of England, and some indiscreet lady asked the Duchess why she had rejected this monarch's suit. A smile broke over Christina's face, and the old dimples rose to her cheeks as she replied that, unfortunately, she only had one head, but that if she had possessed two, one might have been at His Majesty's disposal. It was a characteristic speech, and has passed into history.[338]