IV.
King Christian, as the Emperor hinted, was still a thorn in the Regent's side. Although, since his wife's death, most of his time had been spent in Germany, he remained a perpetual source of annoyance. In July, 1528, he induced his sister Elizabeth to leave her husband, Joachim of Brandenburg, and escape with him to Saxony. All Germany rang with this new scandal, and while the Marquis appealed to Margaret, begging her to stop Christian's allowance as the only means of bringing him to his senses, Elizabeth, who had secretly embraced the reformed faith, implored the Emperor's protection against her husband, and refused to return to Berlin. At the same time the King did his utmost to stir up discontent round Lierre, and raised bands of freebooters in Holland, whose lawless depredations were a constant source of vexation to Charles's loyal subjects. When the Regent protested, he replied that he had nothing to do with these levies, and that his intentions were absolutely innocent, assurances which, Margaret remarked, would not deceive a child. Under these circumstances, relations between the two became daily more strained. "Margaret loves me not, and has never loved me," wrote Christian to his Lutheran friends, while the Regent turned to Charles in her despair, saying: "Monseigneur, if the King of Denmark comes here, I simply do not know what I am to do with him!"[64]
1523-31] DEATH OF MARGARET
Suddenly a new turn in the tide altered the whole aspect of affairs. On the 3rd of August, 1529, the Peace of Cambray was finally concluded. The long war, which had drained the Emperor's resources, was at an end, and his hands were once more free. Christian lost no time in taking advantage of this opportunity to secure his powerful kinsman's help. He addressed urgent petitions to the Emperor and King Ferdinand, and sent an Envoy to plead his cause at Bologna, where on the 24th of February, 1530, Charles V. received the imperial crown from the hands of Pope Clement VII. But the only condition on which the exiled monarch could be admitted into the new confederation was his return to the Catholic Church. For this, too, Christian seems to have been prepared. On the 2nd of February he signed an agreement at Lierre, in which he promised to obey the Emperor's wishes, and to hold fast the Catholic faith, if he should be restored to the throne of Denmark. When Charles crossed the Brenner, Christian hastened to meet him at Innsbruck, and, throwing himself at the foot of Cardinal Campeggio, craved the Holy Father's pardon for his past errors, and received absolution. But, in spite of this public recantation, the King still secretly preferred the reformed faith, and continued to correspond with his Lutheran friends. On the 25th of June he arrived at Malines with letters of credit for 24,000 florins, which he had received from the Emperor as the price of his submission. But the Council refused to give him a farthing without the Regent's consent, and Margaret declined to see him, pleading illness as her excuse. Although only fifty years of age, she had long been in failing health, and only awaited the Emperor's coming to lay down her arduous office and retire to a convent at Bruges. An unforeseen accident hastened her end. She hurt her foot by treading on the broken pieces of a crystal goblet, blood-poisoning came on, and she died in her sleep on the 30th of November, without ever seeing her nephew again. The touching letter in which she bade him farewell was written a few hours before her death:
"Monseigneur,
"The hour has come when I can no longer write with my own hand, for I am so dangerously ill that I fear my remaining hours will be few. But my conscience is tranquil, and I am ready to accept God's will, and have no regrets saving that I am deprived of your presence, and am unable to see you and speak with you before I die.... I leave you your provinces, greatly increased in extent since your departure, and resign the government, which I trust I have discharged in such a way as to merit a Divine reward, and earn the good-will of your subjects as well as your approval. And above all, Monseigneur, I recommend you to live at peace, more especially with the Kings of France and England. Finally I beg of you, by the love which you have been pleased to bear me, remember the salvation of my soul and my recommendations on behalf of my poor servants. And so I bid you once more farewell, praying, Monseigneur, that you may enjoy a long life and great prosperity.
"Your very humble aunt,
"Margaret."[65]
"From Malines the last day of November, 1530."
This letter reached the Emperor at Cologne together with the news of Margaret's death, and a solemn requiem was chanted for her soul in the cathedral. Charles and his subjects fully realized the great loss which his pays de par-deça had suffered by his aunt's death.
"All the provinces," said Cornelius Agrippa, in the funeral oration which he pronounced in S. Rombaut of Malines, "all the cities, and all the villages, are plunged in tears and sorrow. For no greater loss could have befallen us and our country."
1523-31] MARY OF HUNGARY
The young Prince of Denmark, whom Margaret had loved so well, was chief mourner on this occasion, and rode at the head of the procession which bore her remains to Bruges. Here they were laid in the Convent of the Annunciation until the magnificent shrine that she had begun at Brou in Savoy was ready to receive her ashes and those of her husband. When, in the following March, the Emperor came to Malines, Prince John welcomed him in a Latin speech, in which he made a pathetic allusion to the loss which he and his sisters had sustained in the death of one who had been to them the wisest and tenderest of mothers. Then, turning to his uncle with charming grace, he begged the Emperor to have compassion upon him and his orphaned sisters, and allow them to remain at his Court until their father should be restored to his rightful throne. The young Prince's simple eloquence produced a deep impression. The Emperor with tears in his eyes embraced him, and the magistrates of Malines presented him with a barrel of Rhenish wine in token of their regard.[66]
Fortunately for the children of Denmark, as well as for the provinces which Margaret had ruled so well, another Habsburg Princess was found to take her place. This was the Emperor's sister Mary, whose gallant husband, King Louis of Hungary, had fallen on the field of Mohacz four years before, fighting against the Turks. The widowed Queen, although only twenty-one, had shown admirable presence of mind, and it was largely due to her tact and popularity that her brother Ferdinand and his wife Anna, the dead King's sister, were recognized as joint Sovereigns of Bohemia and Hungary. Her own hand was sought in marriage by many Princes, including the young King James V. of Scotland and her sister Eleanor's old lover, the Palatine Frederic, whose romantic imagination was deeply impressed by the young Queen's heroic bearing. But Mary positively refused to take another husband, saying that, having found perfect happiness in her first marriage, she had no wish to try a second. To the end of her life she remained true to her dead lord, and never put off her widow's weeds. But her courage and spirit were as high as ever. She was passionately fond of hunting, and amazed the hardest riders by being all day in the saddle without showing any trace of fatigue. Her powers of mind were no less remarkable. She was the ablest of the whole family, and the wisdom of her judgments was equalled by the frankness with which she expressed them. Like all the Habsburg ladies, she was highly educated, and spoke Latin as well as any doctor in Louvain, according to Erasmus, who inscribed her name on the first page of his "Veuve Chrétienne." Mary shared her sister Isabella's sympathy with the reformers, and accepted the dedication of Luther's "Commentary on the Four Psalms of Consolation." When this excited her brother Ferdinand's displeasure, she told him that authors must do as they please in these matters, and that he might trust her not to tarnish the fair name of their house. "God," she added, "would doubtless give her grace to die a good Christian."[67]
1523-31] THE NEW REGENT
In the spring of 1530 Mary met Charles at Innsbruck, and accompanied him to Augsburg. When, a few months later, the news of Margaret's death reached him at Cologne, the Emperor begged her to become Regent of the Low Countries and share the burden of government with him. But Mary had no wish to enter public life, and asked her brother's leave to retire to Spain and devote herself to the care of their unhappy mother, Queen Juana. For some time she resisted the entreaties of both her brothers, and it was only a strong sense of duty which finally overcame her reluctance to assume so arduous and ungrateful a task. When at length she consented, she made it a condition that she should not be troubled with offers of marriage, and pointed out that her Lutheran sympathies might well arouse suspicion in the Netherlands. But Charles brushed these objections lightly aside, saying that no one should disturb her peace, and that he should never have trusted her with so important a post if he had regarded her Lutheran tendencies seriously. All he asked was that the Queen should not bring her German servants to the Low Countries, lest they should arouse the jealousy of his Flemish courtiers.
Mary scrupulously fulfilled these conditions, and on the 23rd of January, 1531, the new Regent entered Louvain in state, and was presented to the Council by the Emperor, as Governess of the Netherlands. Two months later she accompanied Charles to Malines, where for the first time she embraced her little nieces. For the present, however, Dorothea and Christina, who were only nine and ten years old, remained at Malines, while Prince John accompanied his uncle and aunt on a progress through the provinces.
Mary soon realized all the difficulties of the task that she had undertaken with so much reluctance.
"The Emperor," she wrote to Ferdinand from Brussels, "has fastened the rope round my neck, but I find public affairs in a great tangle, and if His Majesty does not reduce them to some degree of order before his departure, I shall find myself in a very tight place."[68]
The Treasury was exhausted, the people groaned under the load of taxation, and the prodigal generosity of the late Regent had not succeeded in suppressing strife and jealousy among the nobles. As Mary wrote many years afterwards to her nephew, Philip II.:
"No doubt our aunt, Madame Marguerite, ruled the Netherlands long and well; but when she grew old and ailing she was obliged to leave the task to others, and when the Emperor returned there after her death, he found the nobles at variance, justice little respected, and all classes disaffected to the imperial service."[69]
1523-31] A FORLORN HOPE
But the young Regent brought all her spirit and energy to the task, and with her brother's help succeeded in reforming the gravest abuses and restoring some order into the finances. The gravest difficulty with which she had to contend was the presence of the King of Denmark. Since Margaret's death this monarch had grown bolder and more insolent in his demands. With the help of his old ally, Duke Henry of Brunswick, he collected 6,000 men-at-arms and invaded Holland, spreading fire and sword wherever he went. In vain Charles remonstrated with him on the suffering which he inflicted on peaceable citizens. Christian only replied with an insolent letter, which convinced the Emperor more than ever of "the man's little sense and honesty." He now feared that the King would seize one of the forts in Holland and remain there all the winter, feeding his soldiers at the expense of the unfortunate peasantry, and infecting them with Lutheran heresy. Under these circumstances Charles felt that it was impossible to desert his sister, and decided to put off his departure for Germany until he had got rid of this troublesome guest.
At length, on the 26th of October, Christian sailed from Medemblik, in North Holland, with twenty-five ships and 7,000 men.
"He has done infinite damage to my provinces of Holland and Utrecht," wrote Charles to Ferdinand, "treating them as if they were enemies, and forcing them to provide him with boats and provisions, besides seizing the supplies which I had collected for my own journey."[70]
So great were the straits to which Charles found himself reduced that he was compelled to raise a fresh loan in order to defray the expenses of his journey to Spires. But at least the hated adventurer was gone, and as a fair wind sprang up, and the sails of King Christian's fleet dropped below the horizon, the Emperor and his subjects felt that they could breathe freely.
"The King of Dacia," wrote the Italian traveller Mario Savorgnano, from Brussels, on the 6th of November, "has sailed with twenty big ships, thus relieving this land from a heavy burden. He goes to recover his kingdom of Denmark, a land lying north of the Cymbric Chersonesus.... But I am sure that when the people come face to face with these mercenaries, especially those who have been in Italy and have there learnt to rob, sack, burn, and leave no cruelty undone, in their greed for gold, they will rise and drive out the invaders."[71]
This time Christian determined not to attempt a landing in Denmark, but to sail straight to Norway, where he had always been more popular than in any other part of his dominions, and still numbered many partisans. His expectations were not disappointed. When he landed, on the 5th of November, the peasantry and burghers flocked to his standard. The Archbishop of Drondtheim and the clergy declared in his favour, and the States-General, which met in January, 1532, at Oslo, the old capital, renewed their oaths of allegiance to him as their rightful King. But the strong forts of Bergen and Aggershus, at the gates of the town, closed their gates against him, and his army soon began to dwindle away for want of supplies. Early in the spring a strong fleet, fitted out by King Frederic, with the help of the citizens of Lübeck, appeared before Oslo, and set fire to Christian's ships in the harbour, while a Danish army, under Knut Gyldenstern, advanced from the south. Once more the King's nerve failed him. He met the Danish captain in a meadow outside Oslo, and, after prolonged negotiations, agreed to lay down his arms and go to Copenhagen, to confer with his uncle. The next day he disbanded his forces and took leave of his loyal supporters. Thus, without striking a blow, he delivered Norway into the usurper's hands, and surrendered his last claim to the three kingdoms.[72]
1523-31] CHRISTIAN II.'S FALL
In return for his submission, Gyldenstern had promised the King honourable entertainment and given him a written safe-conduct. Trusting in these assurances, Christian went on board a Danish ship, and on the 24th of July arrived before Copenhagen. As the ship sailed up the Sound in the early summer morning, people flocked from all parts to see their old King, and many of the women and children wept aloud. His fate, they realized, was already sealed. Before the arrival of the fleet, a conference had been held between Frederic and the Swedish and Hanse deputies, who agreed that so dangerous a foe must not be allowed to remain at liberty, and condemned the unfortunate monarch to perpetual imprisonment in the island fortress of Sonderburg. In vain Christian demanded to be set on shore and conducted into his uncle's presence. He was told that the King would meet him in the Castle of Flensburg in Schleswig. But when, instead of sailing in this direction, the ship which bore him entered the narrow Alsener Sound, and the walls of Sonderburg came in sight, the unhappy King saw the trap into which he had fallen, and broke into transports of rage. But it was too late, and he was powerless in the hands of his enemies. No indignity was spared him by his captors. As he entered the lonely cell in the highest turret of the castle, Knut Gyldenstern, who is said to have been one of his mistress Dyveke's lovers, plucked the fallen monarch by the beard, and tore the jewel of the Golden Fleece from his neck. None of the old servants who had clung to their exiled Prince so faithfully were allowed to share his prison, and for many years a pet dwarf was his sole companion.[73]
In this foul and treacherous manner King Christian II. was betrayed into the hands of his foes and doomed to lifelong captivity. And, by a strange fate, in these early days of August, at the very moment when the iron gates of Sonderburg closed behind him, his only son, the rightful heir to the three kingdoms, died far away in Southern Germany, within the walls of the imperial city of Regensburg.
Meanwhile the news of Christian's unexpected success in Norway had reached Brussels and excited great surprise.
"The King of Denmark," wrote Mary of Hungary to her brother Ferdinand, "has done so well by his rashness that he has actually recovered possession of one of his kingdoms, and his friends hope that he may be able to stay there."[74]
1523-31] COURT FÊTES
This was towards the end of December, when the imperial family had assembled in the palace to keep Christmas. Prince John had won golden opinions on the progress which he had made with his uncle and aunt, and was as much beloved by the Emperor, wrote Mario Savorgnano, as if he were his own son. Now his little sisters were brought to Brussels by their uncle's command to share in the festivities. Early in January, 1532, Charles heard that his sister, Queen Katherine of Portugal, had given birth to a son, and the happy event was celebrated by a grand tournament on the square in front of the Portuguese Ambassador's house. The Emperor, accompanied by the Queen of Hungary and the Prince and Princesses of Denmark, looked on at the jousts and sword and torch dances from a balcony draped with white and green velvet, and at nine o'clock sat down to a sumptuous banquet. The Queen was seated at the head of the table, opposite the fireplace, with the Emperor on her right and Princess Dorothea at his side. Prince John was on his aunt's left, and the youthful Christina, who made her first appearance in public on this occasion, sat between her brother and the Portuguese Ambassador. Henry of Nassau, the Prince of Bisignano, and Ferrante Gonzaga, were at the same board, while Nassau's son, the young Prince René, who had lately inherited the principality of Orange from his maternal uncle, sat with the Queen's ladies at another table. Charles was in high spirits. He talked and laughed with all the lords and ladies who were present during the interminable number of courses of meat, fish, game, wines, cakes, and fruits, that were served in succession, with brief interludes of music. When, at eleven, the Emperor rose from table, an Italian comedy was acted, in which Ferrante Gonzaga and several Italian and Spanish noblemen took part. Then King Cupid appeared, riding in a triumphal car, and a troop of Loves danced hand in hand, until, at a sign from Charles, the actors removed their masks. A collation of confetti and Madeira and Valencia wines was then served at a buffet laden with costly gold and silver cups and precious bowls of Oriental porcelain. When all the guests had ate and drunk their fill, the finest crystal vases and bottles of perfume were presented to the Queen and Princesses, and the other ladies received gifts from the Ambassador. The royal guests joined with great spirit in the dancing which followed, and did not retire till two o'clock.[75] Concerts and suppers, jousts and dances, succeeded each other throughout the week, and the Emperor gave splendid presents to the Ambassador of Portugal, and sent cordial congratulations to his royal brother-in-law on the birth of his son and heir.
A fortnight later Charles left Brussels, taking Prince John with him, and travelled by slow stages to Regensburg, where the Imperial Diet was opened in May. Here the Court remained during the next three months, and the young Prince was sent to receive the Count Palatine, the Archbishop of Mainz, and other Princes of the Empire, who arrived in turn to take part in the assembly. Unluckily the weather proved very disagreeable. "Never," exclaimed the Venetian Ambassador, "was there such a detestable climate!" A long continuance of heavy rains and unusual heat was followed by some bitterly cold days, which produced serious illness. Princes and nobles, Ambassadors and servants, all succumbed in turn to the same epidemic. The Venetian took to his bed, and four of his servants became seriously ill. The Emperor himself was invalided, and left the town to take waters and change of air in a neighbouring village. "There is hardly a house in the Court," wrote the Mantuan Envoy, "where some person is not ill. Most people recover, but a good many die, especially those who are young." Among the victims was Prince John of Denmark. Charles returned to find his nephew in high fever and delirium. He was deeply distressed, and when the poor boy became unconscious, and the doctors gave no hope, he left the town again, saying that he could not bear to see the child die. The Prince never recovered consciousness, and passed away at two o'clock on the morning of the 12th of August.
"The poor little Prince of Denmark died last night," wrote the Mantuan Ambassador, "to the infinite distress of the whole Court, and above all of Cæsar, who bore him singular affection, not only on account of the close ties of blood between them, but because of the young Prince's charming nature and winning manners, which made him beloved by everyone and gave rise to the highest hopes."[76]
1523-31] THE EMPEROR'S GRIEF
By the Emperor's orders an imposing funeral service was held at Regensburg, after which the Prince's body was taken to Ghent and buried in his mother's grave. Charles himself wrote to break the sad news to Mary of Hungary and her poor little nieces:
"Madame my good Sister,
"This is only to inform you of the loss we have suffered in the death of our little nephew of Denmark, whom it pleased God to take to Himself on Sunday morning, the day before yesterday, after he had been ill of internal catarrh for a whole week. This has caused me the greatest grief that I have ever known. For he was the dearest little fellow, of his age, that it was possible to see, and I have felt this loss more than I did that of my son, for he was older, and I knew him better and loved him as if he had been my own child. But we must bow to the Divine will. Although I know that God might have allowed this to happen anywhere, I cannot help feeling that if I had left the boy at home with you he might not have died. At least his father will be sure to say so. I expect you know where he is said to be. Without offence to God, I could wish he were in his son's place, and his son well received in his own kingdom. All the same, without pretending to be the judge, perhaps the King has not deserved to be there, and the little rogue is better off where he is than where I should have liked to see him, and smiles at my wish for him, for he was certainly not guilty of any great sins. He died in so Christian a manner that, if he had committed as many as I have, there would have been good hope of his soul's weal, and with his last breath he called on Jesus. I am writing to my little nieces, as you see, to comfort them. I am sure that you will try and do the same. The best remedy will be to find them two husbands."[77]
When Charles wrote these touching words, he had not yet heard of the disastrous end to King Christian's campaign, and believed the Prince's father to be in possession of the Norwegian capital. But he added a postscript to his letter, telling the Queen of a report which had just arrived, that the King had been taken prisoner by his foes. Four days later this report was confirmed by letters from Lübeck merchants, and no further doubt could be entertained of the doom which had overtaken the unhappy monarch. His melancholy fate excited little compassion, either in Germany or in the Netherlands. Luther, to his credit, addressed an earnest appeal to King Frederic congratulating him on his victory, and begging him to take example by Christ, who died for His murderers, and have pity on the unfortunate captive. But in reply Frederic issued an apology, in which he brought the gravest charges against the deposed King, and accused him of having preferred a low woman of worthless character to the noblest and most virtuous of Queens. Before long the old commercial treaties between Denmark and the Low Countries were renewed, and the Baltic trade was resumed on the understanding that no attempt was made to revive King Christian's claims.
The prisoner of Sonderburg was forgotten by the world, and the one being who loved him best on earth, his sister Elizabeth of Brandenburg, could only commend his little daughters sadly to the Regent, and beg her to have compassion on these desolate children. Mary replied in a letter full of feeling, assuring Elizabeth that she need have no fear on this score, and that her little nieces should be treated as if they were her own daughters. She kept her word nobly.[78]