Christina of Denmark, Duchess of Milan and Lorraine, 1522-1590

BOOK III
KINGS IN EXILE
1523-1531

I.

The troubles of the Danish royal family were not over when they left Copenhagen. A violent storm scattered the fleet in the North Sea, and drove several of the ships on the Norwegian coast, where many of them were lost with all their cargo. The remaining eleven or twelve ships entered the harbour of Veeren, in Walcheren, on the 1st of May. Here the King and Queen were kindly received by Adolf of Burgundy, the Admiral of the Dutch fleet, who kept them for a week in his own house, and then escorted them to the Regent's Court at Malines. Margaret welcomed her niece with all her old affection, and took her and the royal children into her own house. But she met the King's prayer for help coldly, saying that it was beyond her power to give him either men or money. The moment, it is true, was singularly unpropitious. Not only were all the Emperor's resources needed to carry on his deadly struggle with France, but nearer home the Regent was engaged in a fierce conflict with her old enemy, Charles of Guelders, for the possession of Friesland. As Adolf of Burgundy wrote to Wolsey: "We need help so much ourselves that we are hardly in condition to help others."[40] Christian soon realized this, and determined to apply to Henry VIII., relying on his former assurances of brotherly affection, and feeling confident of Wolsey's support. The scheme met with Margaret's approval, and, since Isabella had only brought one Dutch maid and the children's nurses from Copenhagen, the Regent lent her several ladies, in order that she might appear in due state at the English Court.[41]

On the 5th of June the King and Queen left Malines with a suite of eighty persons and fifty horses, and, after waiting some time at Calais to hear the latest news from Denmark, crossed the Channel, and reached Greenwich on the 19th. Wolsey had already told the Imperial Ambassador, De Praet, that the King of Denmark would receive little encouragement from his master, and had expressed a hope that he would not give them the trouble of coming to England. He met the royal travellers, however, at the riverside, and conducted them to the palace, where they dined in the great hall with the King on the following day, Henry leading Christian by the hand, and Queen Katherine following with Isabella and her sister-in-law, Mary, Duchess of Suffolk, the widow of Louis XII., who was still known as la Reine blanche. From Greenwich the King and Queen of Denmark moved to Bath Place, where they were lodged at Henry's expense. Katherine welcomed her great-niece with motherly affection, but both Henry and Wolsey told Christian plainly that he had made a fatal mistake in deserting his loyal subjects, and advised him to return at once and encourage them by his presence.

All the English monarch would do was to send Envoys to Denmark to urge the usurper Frederic and his supporters to return to their allegiance.

The futility of these measures was evident to De Praet, who wrote to Charles at Toledo, saying that unless he took up the exiled monarch's cause for his sister's sake he would never recover his kingdom. Copenhagen was now besieged by land and sea, and if the garrison were not relieved by Michaelmas they would be forced to surrender, and Christian's last hope would be gone. The King himself, De Praet owned, seemed little changed, and he advised the Emperor to insist on Sigebritt's removal before giving him any help.

At Isabella's request, both Margaret and King Henry had spoken strongly to Christian on this subject, but he still persisted in his infatuation, and it was not till after he had left the Netherlands, and his wife and aunt were dead, that this miserable woman was arrested in Ghent and burnt as a witch.[44]

As for the Queen, no words could express De Praet's admiration for her angelic goodness. "It is indeed grievous," he wrote, "to see this poor lady in so melancholy a plight, and I cannot marvel too much at her virtues and heroic patience." Henry was equally moved, and wrote to Charles in the warmest terms of his sister's noble qualities, but did not disguise his contempt for her husband.[45]

There was, clearly, nothing more to be gained by remaining in England, and on the 5th of July the King and Queen returned to the Low Countries. Isabella joined her children at Malines, and Christian went to Antwerp to equip ships for the relief of Copenhagen. But he soon quarrelled with Margaret, and left suddenly for Germany. In September he appeared at Berlin, having ridden from Brussels attended by only two servants, and succeeded in raising a force of 25,000 men, with the help of his brother-in-law, the Marquis of Brandenburg, and Duke Henry of Brunswick. But when the troops assembled on the banks of the Elbe, King Christian was unable to fulfil his promises or provide the money demanded by the leaders, and he was glad to escape with his life from the angry hordes of soldiers clamouring for pay. By the end of the year Copenhagen capitulated, and in the following August the usurper Frederic was elected King by the General Assembly, and solemnly crowned in the Frauenkirche.[46] The crimes of the unhappy Christian recoiled on his own head, and in the Act of Deprivation by which he was formally deposed, it was expressly stated that his neglect of his noble and virtuous wife, and infatuation for the adventuress Sigebritt and her daughter, had estranged the hearts of his people. But through all these troubles Isabella clung to him with unchanging faithfulness. She followed him first to Berlin, then to Saxony, where he sought his uncle's help. In March she went to Nuremberg on a visit to her brother, King Ferdinand, and pleaded her husband and children's cause before the Diet in so eloquent a manner that the assembled Princes were moved to tears.

Hannart, in fact, confessed that he had done his utmost to keep Christian away from Nuremberg, feeling sure that his presence would do more harm than good. Even Isabella's entreaties were of no avail. She begged her brother in vain for the loan of 20,000 florins to satisfy the Duke of Brunswick, whose angry threats filled her with alarm.

But Christian, as Hannart remarked in a letter to the Regent Margaret, had few friends. Even his servants did not attempt to deny the charges that were brought against him, and the Queen alone, like the loyal wife that she was, sought to explain and excuse his conduct.

To add to Isabella's troubles, her brother Ferdinand was seriously annoyed at the leanings to the Lutheran faith which she now displayed. Christian's Protestant tendencies had been greatly strengthened by his residence in Saxony during the winter of 1523. He heard Luther preach at Wittenberg, and spent much time in his company, dining frequently with him and Spalatin, the Court chaplain, and making friends with the painter Lucas Cranach. The fine portrait of King Christian by this artist forms the frontispiece of a Danish version of the New Testament published by Hans Mikkelsen, the Burgomaster of Malmoë, who shared his royal master's exile. When the Marquis Joachim of Brandenburg remonstrated with his brother-in-law for his intimacy with the heretic Luther, Christian replied that he would rather lose all three of his kingdoms than forsake this truly Apostolic man.[48] Isabella's naturally religious nature was deeply impressed by these new influences, and both she and her sister-in-law, Elizabeth of Brandenburg, secretly embraced the reformed doctrine. At Nuremberg she attended the sermons of the Lutheran doctor Osiander, and received Communion in both kinds from his hands on Maundy Thursday, to the great indignation of King Ferdinand, who told her he could not own a heretic as his sister. Isabella replied gently that if he cast her off God would take care of her. Luther on his part was moved by the apparent sincerity of his royal convert.

While Luther addressed a strong remonstrance to the newly-elected King of Denmark and the citizens of Lübeck, Christian's Chancellor, Cornelius Scepperus, drew up an eloquent memorial to Pope Clement VII. on the exiled King's behalf, and travelled to Spain to seek the Emperor's help. By Hannart's exertions a Congress was held at Hamburg in April, which was attended by representatives of the Emperor, the Regent of the Netherlands, the Imperial Electors and Princes, as well as by deputies from Denmark, England, Poland, and Lübeck. Isabella accompanied her husband on this occasion, at Hannart's request.

But when, by way of compromise, some members of the Congress proposed that Frederic should retain the throne, and recognize Prince John as his successor, Christian rejected this offer angrily, and negotiations were soon broken off. Both Charles and Margaret now gave up all hope of effecting Christian's restoration, and concluded a treaty in the following August with King Frederic, by which his title was recognized, and the Baltic was once more opened to the merchants of the Low Countries.

II.

The exiled monarch, now compelled to realize the hopelessness of his cause, returned sorrowfully with his wife to the Low Countries, and Isabella had at least the joy of embracing her children once more. During this long absence the faithful servants who had followed their King and Queen into exile had kept her well supplied with news of their health and progress.

But not all Margaret's affection for Isabella and her children could reconcile her to the King's presence. Christian was, it must be confessed, a troublesome guest. His restless brain was always busy with new plots and intrigues. At first he announced his intention of taking Isabella to visit the Emperor in Spain, but, after spending some weeks in Zeeland fitting out ships, he suddenly changed his mind, and took Isabella, whose health had suffered from all the hardships and anxiety that she had undergone, to drink the waters at Aix-la-Chapelle. On his return he wished to settle at Ghent, but the Regent and her Council, fearing that his presence would excite sedition in this city, suggested that the Castle of Gemappes should be offered him instead. Charles replied that if the King lived at Gemappes he would certainly spoil his hunting, and thought that Lille or Bruges would be a better place. In the end Lierre, a pleasant city halfway between Malines and Antwerp, was chosen for the exiled Princes' home. Towards the end of 1524 Christian and his family took up their abode in the old castle which still goes by the name of Het Hof van Denemarken, or Cour de Danemarck. A guard of fifty halberdiers and a considerable household was assigned to them by the Emperor's order. A monthly allowance of 500 crowns was granted to the King, while the Queen received a yearly sum of 2,000 crowns pour employer en ses menus plaisirs. But Christian's reckless and disorderly conduct soon landed him in fresh difficulties. Isabella cut up her husband's old robes to make clothes for her little girls, and was reduced to such penury that she was compelled to pledge, not only her jewels, but the children's toys. Meanwhile Margaret's letters to her imperial nephew were filled with complaints of the Danish King's extravagance. She declared that he was spending 800 crowns a month, and perpetually asking for more. When she sent her maître d'hôtel, Monsieur de Souvastre, to set his affairs in order, he was confronted with a long list of unpaid bills from doctors, apothecaries, saddlers, masons, carpenters, tailors, and poulterers. But accounts of the straits to which the Queen and her children were reduced had evidently reached Spain, and Charles felt it necessary to remind his aunt gently that, after all, Isabella was his own sister, and that many pensioners whom he had never seen received many thousands of crowns a year from his purse.[52]

Another cause of perpetual irritation was the favour shown by the King to the Lutherans, whom the Regent was trying to drive out of Flanders. The Court of Lierre became the refuge of all who professed the new doctrine. Margaret insisted on the banishment of several of the King's servants, including the chaplain, Hans Monboë, and Prince John's tutor, Nicolas Petri, and sent others to prison. But these high-handed acts only strengthened Christian's zeal in the cause of reform. "The word of God," he wrote to his friend Spalatin, "waxes powerful in the Netherlands, and thrives on the blood of the martyrs."[53] The letters which he addressed to his old subjects were couched in the same strain. He confessed his past sins, and prayed that he might be restored to his kingdom, like David of old, declaring that his sole wish was to live for Christ and do good to his enemies. At the same time he hired freebooters to ravage the coast of Denmark, and provoked King Frederic to close the Sound, an act which aroused widespread discontent in the Low Countries. In August, 1525, he sent a herald to England, begging King Henry and his good friend the Cardinal to intercede with the Regent, and induce her to lend him men and money for a fresh expedition. But Margaret turned a deaf ear to all entreaties, and when Isabella's physician recommended her to try the waters of Aix-la-Chapelle again, she declined to sanction this journey on the score of expense. She sent her own doctor, however, to Lierre, and at his suggestion the invalid was moved for change of air to Swynaerde, the Abbot of St. Peter's country-house near Ghent. But Isabella's ills were beyond the reach of human skill, and she soon became too weak to leave her room. On the 12th of December Christian sent for his old chaplain from Wittenberg, begging him to return without delay.

Upon receiving this summons, Monboë and Hans Mikkelsen hastened to Ghent, at the peril of their lives, and administered spiritual consolation to the dying Queen. On the 19th of January she received the last Sacraments from the priest of Swynaerde, and saw Monsieur de Souvastre, by whom she sent her aunt affectionate messages, commending her poor children to Margaret's care. A few hours afterwards she passed quietly away. Both Catholics and Lutherans bore witness to her angelic patience, and a letter which Christian addressed to Luther, ten days later, gives a touching account of his wife's last moments:

On the 4th of February the dead Queen, who had not yet completed her twenty-fifth year, was buried with great pomp in the cloisters of the Abbey of St. Peter at Ghent, where a stately marble tomb was raised over her ashes. The painter Mabuse was employed to design the monument, as we learn from a letter which the King addressed to the Abbot of St. Peter's in 1528, complaining of his delay in completing the work. A Latin inscription by Cornelius Scepperus, giving Isabella's titles in full, and recording her virtues and the sufferings which she had endured during her short life, was placed on the monument, which is described by an English traveller of the sixteenth century, Philip Skippon.[55] Unfortunately, the tomb was rifled by the mob at the time of the French Revolution, but the ashes of the Queen were carefully preserved by a pious Curé, and afterwards restored to their former resting-place.

Isabella's early death was deeply lamented, not only in the Low Countries, where she was so beloved, but in her husband's kingdoms. Funeral services were held throughout the land, and all men wept for the good Princess "who had been the mother of her people." On all sides testimonies to her worth were paid. Henry of England wrote to King Christian that the late Queen had been as dear to him as a sister, and Luther paid an eloquent tribute to her memory in his treatise on Holy Women:

III.

The news of the Queen of Denmark's death reached her brother, the Emperor, on the eve of his marriage to Isabella of Portugal. Guillaume des Barres, the bearer of Margaret's letters, found him at a village in Andalusia, on his way to Seville, where the wedding was to take place on the following day, and had a long interview with his imperial master before he left his bed on the 9th of March. Charles spoke with deep feeling of his sister, and inquired anxiously if the Regent had been able to obtain possession of her children—"a thing," wrote Des Barres, "which His Majesty desires greatly, because of the King's heretical leanings."[57]

Margaret had certainly not been remiss in this matter. But Christian was more intractable than ever. He took his children to Ghent immediately after their mother's death, and refused to give them up until the Regent had paid all his debts, including 7,000 florins for the funeral expenses, and 2,000 more which he owed to the landlord of the Falcon at Lierre for Rhine-wine and fodder. His language became every day more violent. He threatened to cut off the Governor of Antwerp's head, and appealed to his comrades of the Golden Fleece for the redress of his supposed grievances. At length Margaret, seeing that none of her Court officials and Councillors could bring him to reason, rode to Lierre herself on the 2nd of March, and made a last attempt to obtain possession of the children par voye aimable. The King, she found, had already packed up his furniture and plate, even the chalice which was used in the royal chapel, and was about to start for Germany.

After prolonged discussion, the Regent succeeded in persuading Christian to leave his children with her, on condition that she paid his debts in Lierre, and provided for the late Queen's funeral expenses—"a thing which must be done," she wrote to Charles, "out of sheer decency." But she quite refused the King's demand for an increased allowance, saying that he could not require more money than he had received in his wife's lifetime. Christian then left the Netherlands for Saxony, saying that he intended to raise a fresh army and invade Denmark. "He is confident of recovering his kingdoms," wrote Margaret to the Emperor, "but my own impression is that his exploits will be confined to plundering and injuring your subjects." This prophecy was literally fulfilled, and during the next four years the peaceful folk in Friesland were harassed by turbulent freebooters in the King of Denmark's pay, while pirates ravaged the coasts of the North Sea, and led the Hanse cities to make severe reprisals on the Dutch ships.

Margaret's chief object, however, was attained. On the 5th of March she returned to Malines with the Prince of Denmark and his little sisters. "Henceforth, Monseigneur," she wrote to Charles, "you will have to be both father and mother to these poor children, and must treat them as your own."[58] The Regent herself nobly fulfilled the sacred trust committed to her by the dying Queen. From this time until her own death, four and a half years later, Isabella's children were the objects of her unceasing care, and lacked nothing that money could provide or love suggest. They lived under her own roof in the Palace of Malines, that city of wide streets and canals, with the fine market-place and imposing cathedral, which many called the finest town in Flanders. Margaret's first care was to arrange the royal children's household. Prince John was placed in the charge of a governess, Mademoiselle Rolande de Serclaes, who superintended his meals and taught him "Christian religion and good manners," while he had for his tutor Cornelius Agrippa, the distinguished scholar and defender of women's rights, who dedicated his book, "On the Pre-excellence of Women," to the Regent. In Lent the Prince and his sisters received regular instruction in the palace chapel, and one year Friar Jehan de Salis received thirty-six livres for preaching a course of Lent sermons before the Prince and Princesses of Denmark. Margaret herself kept a watchful eye on the children. A hundred entries in her household accounts show how carefully she chose their nurses and companions, their clothes and playthings. One of her first gifts to the Prince was a handsome pony, richly harnessed with black and gold trappings. Another was a dwarf page, who became his constant playfellow, and in his turn received good Ypres cloth and damask for his own wear. Italian merchants from Antwerp often came to lay their wares before the Regent. We find her choosing black velvet and white satin for Prince John's doublet, and pearl buttons and gold fringe to trim his sleeves, and ordering the goldsmith, Master Leonard of Augsburg, to supply an antique silver dagger and an image of Hercules for the Prince's cap. Or else a merchant is desired to send her two pairs of cuffs of exquisitely fine "toile de Cambray," embroidered with gold thread, for the young Princesses' wear,[59] and twenty gold balls for the fringe of their bed. Amid all the anxious cares of State which filled her time, this great lady seldom allowed a day to pass without seeing her nephew and nieces. Their innocent prattle and merry laughter cheered her lonely hours, while the Prince and his sisters found plenty to amuse them in their great-aunt's rooms. The halls were hung with costly Arras tapestries of David killing Goliath, stories of Alexander and Esther, hunting scenes and Greek fables, or adorned with paintings by the best masters. Van Eyck's "Merchant of Lucca, Arnolfini with his Wife," and "Virgin of the Fountain," Rogier Van der Weyden's and Memling's Madonnas, Jerome Bosch's "St. Anthony," Jacopo de' Barbari's "Crucifixion," were all here, as well as Michel van Coxien's little Virgin with the sleeping Child in her arms, which Margaret called her mignonne.[60] The library contained a complete collection of family portraits, chiefly the work of the Court painter, Bernard van Orley or Jehan Mabuse.

Among these were pictures of Margaret's parents, Maximilian and Mary of Burgundy; of her second husband, Monsieur de Savoie, a brilliant cavalier clad in a crimson mantle sown with daisies in allusion to his wife's name; and of her brother, King Philip, with his children, the young Archduke Charles and the future Queens of France and Denmark. Prince John and his sisters would recognize the portraits of their own father and mother, King Christian and his gentle wife, which hung over the mantelpiece, together with those of their great-grandparents, Ferdinand and Isabella, the Kings of France and England, and the Grand Turk. But better in the children's eyes than all the pictures and bronzes, the marble busts and ivories, the silver mirrors and chandeliers, better even than the Chinese dragons and stuffed birds-of-Paradise from the New World, were the live pets with which their aunt loved to be surrounded. The famous green parrot which once belonged to Mary of Burgundy had lately died, to her great sorrow. Margaret herself had written its epitaph, and the Court poet, Jehan Le Maire, had sung the bird's descent into the Elysian fields, and its converse with Charon and Mercury, in his elegy of "L'Amant Vert." But in its stead she had cages full of parakeets and singing birds, which were carefully tended by her ladies, and fed with white loaves newly baked every morning. There was an Italian greyhound in a white fur tippet, and a number of toy-dogs in baskets lined with swansdown, and a marmoset that she had bought from a French pedlar, which afforded the Court ladies as much amusement as the royal children. Nor were other diversions wanting. Margaret was very fond of music, and not only kept a troop of viol and tambourine players, but often sent for the town band of Ghent and Brussels, or the Prince of Orange's fife and organ players, to beguile her evenings. Sometimes the children of S. Rombaut and the choir-boys of Notre Dame du Sablon in Brussels would sing chorales during dinner, or strolling players and German marionettes, Italian jugglers, or Poles and Hungarians with tame bears, would be allowed to perform in her presence. On one occasion a famous lute-player from the Court of Whitehall was sent over by King Henry, and received seven gold crowns for his pains. Another time three Savoyards were rewarded with a handful of gold pieces for the tricks with which they had amused the Court after supper. And every May Day the archers of the guard marched in procession to plant hawthorn-bushes covered with blossom under the palace windows.[61]

In these pleasant surroundings the children of Denmark grew up under the same roof as their mother and aunts before them, leading the same joyous and natural life. No wonder that through all her troubled life Christina looked back fondly to these early times, and never forgot the happy days which she had spent at Malines. There is a charming picture, now at Hampton Court, of the three children, painted by Mabuse soon after their mother's death, and sent to King Henry VIII., whose favour Christian II. was once more trying to obtain.[62]

The three children are standing at a table covered with a green cloth, on which apples and cherries are laid. Prince John, a manly boy with a thoughtful, attractive face, wearing a black velvet suit and cap and a gold chain round his neck, is in the centre between his sisters. On his right, Dorothea, a pretty child with brown eyes and golden curls frizzled all over her head, reaches out her hand towards the fruit, while on his left the little Christina grasps an apple firmly in one hand, and lays the other confidingly on her brother's arm. Both little girls are dressed in black velvet with white ermine sleeves, probably made out of their father's old robes. But while Dorothea's curly head is uncovered, Christina wears a tight-fitting hood edged with pearls, drawn closely over her baby face. Her tiny features are full of character, and the large brown eyes, with their earnest gaze, and small fingers clasping the apple, already reveal the courage and resolution for which she was to be distinguished in days to come.

At this early period of their lives it was, naturally enough, Prince John who chiefly occupied his guardian's thoughts. A boy of rare promise, studious, intelligent, and affectionate, he had inherited much of his mother's charm, and soon became a great favourite at Court. Margaret was never tired of describing his talents and progress to the Emperor, who took keen interest in his young nephew, and was particularly glad to hear how fond he was of riding.

"Your good nephew,
"Charles."[63]

When in July, 1528, Margaret's servant Montfort was sent on an important mission to Spain, the Emperor's first anxiety was to hear full accounts of Prince John and his sisters from the Envoy's lips. He expressed great satisfaction with all Montfort told him, saying that he entertained the highest hopes of his nephew, and would far rather support his claim to Denmark than help his father to recover the throne—"the more so," he added, "since we hear that King Christian, to our sorrow, still adheres to the false doctrine of Luther."

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]

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:

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."

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]

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.