V.
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]
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]
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]
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.
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]
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.