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

BOOK XI
CHRISTINA AT BRUSSELS
1553-1559

I.

Christina was at Brussels on the memorable day when the Emperor set foot once more on his native soil. She heard the shouts of joy which rent the air, and joined with the Queens in the welcome which greeted him on the threshold of his palace. Early in January she had left Heidelberg and travelled safely down the Rhine and through the friendly states of her Cleves cousins to Brussels. Here she occupied the suite of rooms where she had lived before her second marriage, and to a large extent resumed her former habits. She spent much of her time with her aunts and the Duchess of Aerschot, and renewed her old friendship with Countess d'Aremberg and other ladies of the Court. The deepest sympathy was felt for her by all classes, and when Charles addressed the States-General on the 13th of February, and alluded to the treachery of the French in carrying off the young Duke of Lorraine and driving his mother out of the realm, his words provoked an outburst of tumultuous indignation.[481]

Through her brother-in-law Vaudemont she still maintained close relations with Lorraine, while the Cardinal kept her informed of all that concerned her son, and the boy's own letters satisfied her that he was well and happy at the French Court. But although Charles shared all the advantages enjoyed by the King's children, and soon became a general favourite in the royal family, it was bitter for the Duchess to feel that her only son was growing up, in a foreign land, among the hereditary foes of her race. The restoration of peace between Charles and Henry was the only means by which she could hope to recover her lost child, and this became the goal of all her efforts during the six years that she spent in exile.

The Widow of Milan had been courted by Kings and Princes, and hardly was Christina settled at Brussels before she was assailed by fresh offers of marriage. Henry, King of Navarre, whose accomplished wife had died soon after her daughter's marriage, asked the Emperor for his niece's hand, but his proposals met with small favour. Far more serious was the courtship of Albert of Brandenburg, who felt this to be a favourable moment for renewing his old suit. "No one," as Thomas Hoby wrote, "had done the Emperor worthier or more faithful service" in the siege of Metz, and was better entitled to reward. His claims were strongly supported by the Palatine, who invited the Marquis to Heidelberg to confer with the other German Princes on the best means of recovering Metz. Albert himself not only aspired to the Duchess's hand, but to the Duke of Alva's post of Commander-in-Chief, and boasted that once Christina was his bride he would easily recover her father's kingdoms.

Whatever her relatives may have thought of the Marquis's suit, Christina herself never considered it seriously, and told the Palatine plainly that such a marriage was out of the question. The Marquis vented his anger on the Emperor, and left Heidelberg in high displeasure, without taking leave of the Palatine or anyone else. Hot words passed between him and Maurice, and these two Princes, who had once been the closest friends, were henceforth bitter enemies. Albert returned to his life of raids and plunder, and when, soon afterwards, he was placed under the ban of the Empire, Maurice led an army against him. A fiercely-contested battle was fought on the 9th of July at Sievershausen, in which Albert was completely routed and Maurice lost his life. The Marquis was deprived of fortune and patrimony, his ancestral home of Plassenburg was burnt to the ground, and after leading a roving life for some years, and wandering from one Court to another, he died in the house of his brother-in-law, the Margrave of Baden, on the 8th of January, 1557. So in exile and poverty this brave and brilliant adventurer ended his career, before he had completed his thirty-fifth year.[483]

While the Palatine was holding vain conferences at Heidelberg, and the Marquis and Duke Adolf were still quarrelling for the Duchess's hand, she herself was endeavouring to open negotiations with the French King through Bassompierre and Vaudemont. But nothing would induce Henry to give up Metz, and in April war was renewed with fresh vigour. The young Prince of Piedmont, who succeeded the unpopular Alva in command of the imperial army, won a series of victories, and razed the forts of Thérouenne and Hesdin to the ground. But the Emperor was too ill to take part in the campaign or even to give audiences. Sir Philip Hoby, who now succeeded Morosyne, actually believed him to be dead, until De Courrières came to dine with his English friends, and assured them, on his honour as a gentleman, that he had seen the Emperor alive that morning.[484] Upon this Sir Philip's brother Thomas, who had just arrived from Paris, where he had been spending the winter in translating Castiglione's "Cortegiano," was sent to see his old Augsburg friend, the Bishop of Arras, and beg for an audience. At length, on the 8th of June, the Englishmen were admitted into the privy chamber, and found the Emperor sitting up, with his feet on a stool, "very pale, weak, and lean, but nothing so ill as they had believed." His eye was lively, his speech sensible, and his manner very friendly and agreeable. But, although he expressed an earnest wish for peace, he declared that the French demands made this quite impossible.[485]

A month later an unexpected event produced a change in the Emperor's fortunes. King Edward VI. died, and, after a vain attempt on Northumberland's part to set Lady Jane Grey on the throne, Catherine of Aragon's daughter Mary succeeded peaceably to the throne. Her accession was hailed with joy at the Imperial Court, and on the Feast of St. Bartholomew the Regent celebrated the event by giving a banquet, to which the English Ambassadors were invited. "It was such a dinner," writes Hoby, "as we had seldom seen in all our lives, and greater good cheer or entertainment than Her Grace gave us could not be devised." Mary was in high spirits that evening. She toasted the Ambassadors, conversed with them after dinner for more than an hour, and told Morosyne laughingly that his French could not be worse than her Italian. Sir Philip sat next to the Duchess of Lorraine, and reminded her of the memorable morning, fifteen years before, when he brought the German Court painter to take her portrait.[486] Since then much had happened. King Henry himself, the great painter Holbein, René of Orange, and Francis of Lorraine, were all gone, and she had lost home and state and had seen her only son snatched from her arms. Yet she was still beautiful and fascinating, and counted almost as many suitors as of old. Adolf of Holstein wooed her with a constancy which no coldness could repel, and if the wild Marquis had been forced to renounce all hope of winning her hand, another hero, the young Prince of Piedmont, was ready to lay his laurels at her feet. But Christina remained the same, calm and unmoved, and was an interested and amused spectator of the matrimonial plans which now formed the all-absorbing topic in the family conclave.

Charles quickly realized the importance of securing the new Queen's hand for his son. As soon as he heard of Edward's death, he sent orders to his Ambassador at Lisbon to delay drawing up the marriage contract which had been agreed upon between Philip and Eleanor's daughter, Maria of Portugal, and wrote to his son, setting forth the superior advantages of the English alliance. Philip replied dutifully that, as his cousin the Queen was twelve years older than himself, his father would be a more suitable husband, but added that he was ready to obey the Emperor's will in all respects.[487]

On the 20th of September Charles wrote from Valenciennes, where he was directing military operations from his litter, to the English Queen. After explaining that he was too old and infirm to think of marriage, and had solemnly vowed after the Empress's death never to take a second wife, he offered her the dearest thing he had in life—his own son. He then proceeded to point out the great advantages of the proposed union, while at the same time he advised Mary to observe the utmost caution, being "well aware of the hatred with which the English, more than any other nation, regard foreigners." Mary's own mind was soon made up. In spite of protests from her subjects and remonstrances from the French King, she was determined to marry her cousin. On the 30th of October she sent for the Imperial Envoy, Renard, and, kneeling down before the Blessed Sacrament in her chapel, she said the Veni Creator, and took a solemn vow to wed the Prince of Spain.[488]

The most friendly letters were now exchanged between the two Courts. The holy chrism for Mary's coronation was sent from Brussels, with venison and wild-boar for her table. Charles gave his future daughter magnificent tapestries and jewels, and Mary of Hungary sent the Queen a yet more precious gift, Titian's portrait of Philip, telling her that, if she stands at some distance from the canvas, it will give her a good idea of the Prince, only that he is older and more bearded than he was when the artist painted it three years ago. The Regent took care to add that she could only lend the Queen the picture on condition that it should be returned "when the living man joined her." In reply, Mary begged her good aunt to pay her a visit; but the Regent excused herself, owing to the Emperor's ill-health, and promised to come and see her later on, it might be in the Prince's company. The same cordial invitation was extended to the Duchess of Lorraine, who sent her new maître d'hôtel, Baron De Silliers, to London in April, 1554, to congratulate the Queen on her marriage. Mary made Christina a present of a fine diamond, which De Courrières was desired to give her, and when, on the 20th of July, Philip landed at Southampton, and the wedding was celebrated in Winchester Cathedral, the happy spouse sent costly jewels to the Emperor and the two Queens, and a beautiful emerald to her dear cousin the Duchess.

In January Cardinal Pole, the Papal Legate, came to the monastery of Diligam, near Brussels, with proposals of peace from the Pope, on his way to congratulate Queen Mary on her accession, and help to restore Catholic rites in the kingdom. Pole was known to be averse to the Spanish marriage, and Charles had put every obstacle in the way of his journey to England. On his arrival he gave him a very cold reception, and the Cardinal complained to the Pope that the Emperor and Arras could not have used greater violence, unless they had taken a stick to drive him back.[489] The Regent and the Duchess of Lorraine, however, were much more friendly when he dined with them the next day, after attending Mass in the royal chapel. Mary told him that no one wished for peace more earnestly than herself, seeing how terribly her poor people of the Netherlands had suffered from the war, and Christina spoke to him of her son with tears in her eyes. When the Cardinal went on to Fontainebleau, he saw the young Duke, and was able to give him his mother's messages. But he found Henry II. still less amenable than Charles, and returned to Brussels convinced that his mission was a failure as far as the hope of peace was concerned.

Before the end of April the French King invaded Hainault, at the head of a large army, and took the strong citadel of Marienburg. Namur was only saved by the promptitude of Charles, who once more took the field, although he could no longer mount a horse, and showed all his old courage in this his last campaign.

After an indecisive battle at Renty, the French retired with heavy loss, spreading famine and desolation in their track. One act of vandalism for which Henry was condemned, even by his own captains, was the destruction of Mary of Hungary's beautiful palace of Binche, with its famous gardens and treasures of art. The Queen received the news with equanimity, saying that she was proud of being the object of the French King's vindictiveness, and glad the world should know that she was the Emperor's devoted servant.

In the autumn Christina made another fruitless attempt to open negotiations through Vaudemont, who after the death of his first wife, Margaret of Egmont, was induced by the Cardinal of Lorraine to marry the Duke of Nemours's daughter. This Prince came to Brussels in November to inform the Emperor and the Duchess of his marriage, and, as might be expected, met with a very cold reception at Court. But, in spite of his French alliance, he remained scrupulously loyal to Christina and her son, and complained to his sister Anne that at Brussels he was reproached for his French sympathies, while in Paris he was looked on with suspicion as an Imperialist. So hard was it to be an honest man in those troublous times.[491]

II.

While the war dragged on its weary course, and Mary and Christina vainly tried to bring it to an end, on the other side of the Channel the new King of England and his spouse were holding high festival. They came to London in September, and remained there through the winter, trying to win the love of their subjects by a series of popular displays and festivities. Tournaments were held at Whitehall, hunting-parties were given at Windsor and Hampton Court, and a succession of distinguished guests travelled from Flanders to pay homage to the royal pair. Philip's favourite, Ruy Gomez, and the Duke and Duchess of Alva, arrived from Spain, Ferrante Gonzaga, the Prince of Orange, and the Grand Equerry Boussu, came over from Antwerp during the autumn.[492] On the 20th of November Cardinal Pole at length crossed the Channel; four days later he was received at Whitehall by the King and Queen in person, and crossed the river in the royal barge, to take possession of his own house at Lambeth. He was soon followed by Emanuel Philibert, who had lately succeeded to the barren title of Duke of Savoy on his father's death, and had been made a Knight of the Garter. Earlier in the summer he had paid a brief visit to London, where his white, red, and green banners of Savoy made a fine show in the Abbey on St. Peter's Day; but as his military duties rendered his presence in Flanders imperative, his Ambassador, Stroppiana, came to Windsor in October, to be invested with the Garter[493] as proxy for his master.

It was not till Christmas Eve that the Duke himself landed at Dover, after a very rough passage, and made his way to Whitehall, where Philip and Mary received him with great honour, and showed him all the sights of London. On the 7th of January the Lord High Admiral took him by water to see the great guns at the Tower, and on St. Paul's Day he accompanied the King and the Cardinal in state to the Cathedral for the patronal feast. A procession of 160 priests bearing crosses, walked round the churchyard, with the children of Paul's School and the Greyfriars, singing "Salve, Festa Dies!" and passed in through the great west doors. After Mass a state banquet was held, with great ringing of bells, and bonfires blazed in all the streets of London throughout the night.[494]

Emanuel Philibert's visit revived the rumour of a marriage between him and the Princess Elizabeth, which the Emperor had suggested some months before. Whether from policy or genuine regard, Philip had espoused his sister-in-law's cause and refused to allow Mary to send her abroad or keep her away from Court. The Duke of Savoy was a pleasant and good-looking Prince, whose martial appearance and genial manners made him very popular in England. But Elizabeth herself quite declined to listen to this proposal, saying that she would never marry a foreigner, and, since there now seemed good hope of the birth of an heir to the crown, the question of the succession was no longer of the first importance. Something, however, must be done to pacify the Duke, who complained bitterly of the Emperor's neglect, and, seeing little chance of recovering Savoy, asked the King for the viceroyalty of Milan, which Ferrante Gonzaga, on his part, refused to surrender. Philip could think of no better plan to gratify his cousin and retain his services than to give him the hand of the Duchess of Lorraine, a Princess whom he was known to regard with great affection.[495]

Accordingly the King and Queen sent pressing invitations to Christina, begging her to come to England as soon as possible. Before she could comply with their request, she had to keep an old engagement to be present at the christening of Count Egmont's infant daughter, which took place on the evening of the 19th of January. The Queen of England had graciously consented to be one of the godmothers, while the Duchess of Lorraine was the other, and the Palatine Frederic stood godfather to his kinswoman's little daughter. Mary wrote to the Duchess of Aerschot, begging Anne to represent her on this occasion, and sent a costly gold cup containing forty angels to her godchild by the new Ambassador, Sir John Masone. The Palsgrave, not to be outdone, sent the child a diamond cross, and another one, set with rubies, diamonds, and emeralds, to the mother. Anne and Christina were both present at the christening, which was attended by all the Court, "everything," wrote Masone, "being very richly ordered, the supper and banquet right stately, and Her Majesty's cup so walked up and down, from man to woman, and woman to man, as I dare answer few were there that did not go full freighted to bed."

Sir John further told the Countess in what good part her request to make her daughter a Christian woman had been taken by his royal mistress, who would willingly have done the same in person, had the distance not been so great, and Sabina sent her most humble thanks to the Queen, saying that, as she already had one daughter called Mary, she had decided to name the infant Mary Christina, after her two godmothers.[496]

When this function was over, Christina began to prepare for her journey to England, but the weather was so tempestuous that she did not cross the Channel until the first days of March. She rode from Dover, by way of Canterbury, to London, where the King and Queen received her in the most cordial manner, Philip made no secret of his affection for his cousin, the only woman in his family with whom he had ever been intimate, and Mary, in the first flush of her wedded happiness and in the proud expectation of soon being a mother, welcomed Christina warmly. Unluckily, we have no particulars of the Duchess's visit to this country, over which she might have reigned herself as Queen. We know that she was present with the rest of the Court at the great joust held on Lady Day in the tilting-yard at Whitehall, when Philip and a band of knights, armed with falchions and targets, and clad in blue and yellow, rode out against two other troops in red and green, and some 200 lances were broken.[497] But the only record that we have of this her first visit to England is a letter which she wrote to Mary on returning to Flanders. She thanked the Queen for the great honour and kindness which she had shown her, and commended the captain of the ship in which she sailed, who, as Her Majesty would doubtless learn, had rendered her notable service on this troublesome passage:

This letter bears no date, but the Duchess certainly left London before the King and Queen went to Hampton Court on the 4th of April, to spend Easter and prepare for the happy event which all England was anxiously expecting. She was at Antwerp with her aunt a month later, when, on the 3rd of May, "great news came over the seas." A messenger from the English ships in the port brought the Regent word that the Queen of England had been "brought to bed of a young Prince," upon which all the guns in the harbour were fired, and Mary ordered the big bells in the Tower to be rung, and sent the English sailors a hundred crowns to drink the royal infant's health. "I trust in God," wrote Sir Thomas Gresham, "that the news is true." The Emperor was more incredulous, and summoned Masone to his bedside at 5 a.m. the next morning, to know what he thought of the matter, but soon satisfied himself that the news was false.[499]

The Savoy marriage, which Philip was so anxious to bring about, also ended in smoke. During Christina's visit, the matter was brought forward and eagerly urged both by the King and Queen. Charles was no less anxious for the marriage, and Mary of Hungary proposed to appoint the Duke, Governor of the Low Countries when she resigned the office. The plan would have been very popular in Flanders, where the Duchess was beloved by all classes, and was warmly supported by Egmont and Orange. On the 1st of May, Badoer, the Venetian Ambassador at Brussels, announced that the marriage contract had already been drawn up by De Praet, and that the Duke had started for Italy, disguised as a German, and only attended by one servant, to arrange his affairs in Piedmont before the wedding.[500]

The Venetian's news was apparently premature, but a fortnight later a Piedmontese noble, Count Avignano, came to London to consult Philip as to the marriage and arrange further details on his master's behalf. He talked freely at table to the French and Venetian Ambassadors, Noailles and Michieli, saying that the Emperor had offered his master the government of the Netherlands with the hand of Madame de Lorraine, an arrangement which he for his part regretted, thinking that the Duke would be more likely to recover his dominions if he married in France. But, since the friendship between his lord and the Duchess was so great, he saw no hope of any other alliance, and the marriage was, in fact, considered by the Emperor and all his family to be practically settled.[501]

Emanuel Philibert, like many others, evidently felt the power of Christina's fascination, and enjoyed a large share of her intimacy. But he does not seem to have shown any great eagerness for the marriage, whether it was that, as Avignano said, it would be a bar to the recovery of his States, or whether he recognized the Duchess's own insuperable objection to matrimony.

When, towards the end of May, a party of English Commissioners met the French and Imperial deputies at Marck, a village near Calais, to treat of peace, an offer was made by the French to give Henry II.'s sister Margaret to the Duke of Savoy. The Imperial deputies expressed a doubt if this were possible, as the Duke's word was already pledged; but Cardinal Pole replied that the Prince was quite free, and ready to agree to any proposal by which he could recover his realm. These negotiations, however, were soon broken off, and on Philip's return to Brussels in September the old scheme of the Lorraine marriage was revived with fresh ardour. When the Duke of Savoy returned from Italy in August, the Regent made him attend the meetings of the Council, and treated him in all ways as her future successor, hoping by this means to obtain his consent to her wishes. But both Emanuel Philibert and Christina remained of the same mind, and neither Philip's entreaties nor Mary of Hungary's angry reproaches could alter their resolution. The Duke pleaded poverty as an excuse, lamenting his inability to offer his wife a home and station worthy of her rank, and was evidently determined to sacrifice his affections to political expediency, although, as the French Ambassador reported, "he still made love through the window to Madame de Lorraine."[502]

III.

Charles V.'s intention to abdicate his throne had long been declared. For many years he had looked forward to the time when he should lay down the burden of public affairs and retire from the world, to end his days in some peaceful cloister. The increasing infirmities under which he groaned, his inability to attend either camp or council, and finally the death of his mother, Queen Joanna, in April, 1555, all helped to hasten the execution of his resolve. Only the continuation of the war and the absence of his son still made him hesitate.

The same indecisive warfare as before was carried on through the year. The Prince of Orange, who now held the chief command, succeeded in keeping the foe at bay, and built the citadels of Charlemont and Philippeville for the defence of the frontier. But everyone was heartily tired of the campaign, and both parties gladly availed themselves of the opportunity afforded by an exchange of prisoners, to renew negotiations in the autumn. Christina once more exerted herself in this direction, and Vaudemont, who came to Brussels in October to take leave of the Emperor, was employed to make fresh overtures to the French King. But many months passed before any conclusion was reached.[503]

Charles had always hoped that his sister would remain at her post when he left the Netherlands, feeling how invaluable her help would prove to Philip. But Mary was inflexible on this point. In a noble letter which she wrote at the end of August, she reminded him that fifteen years before she had begged to be released from her arduous post in order to devote herself to the care of her unhappy mother, and that, now this privilege could no longer be hers, she wished to spend the rest of her life in Spain with her sister, Queen Eleanor.

There was nothing more to be said, and Charles agreed to Philip's wish that for the present the Duke of Savoy should be appointed Lieutenant-Governor of the Low Countries. At length Philip succeeded in tearing himself from the arms of his sorrowful Queen, promising to be back in a fortnight or three weeks. From her palace windows at Greenwich, Mary waved her last farewells to the King, as he sailed down the Thames. He for his part was nothing loth to leave his fretful and melancholy wife, and was satisfied that she would never bear him a child.

On the 8th of September he reached Brussels, and went straight to see his father in the Casino, near the Louvain gate of the park, where he was spending the hot weather. Charles embraced his son tenderly, and after an hour's conversation Philip went on to sup with Queen Mary and Christina on their return from hunting. On the 17th and 18th he attended the Requiem Masses held in S. Gudule for the late Queen Joanna, and afterwards joined in a grand hunting-party given by the Regent in his honour.

The nobles now flocked to Brussels to be present at the Emperor's abdication. The Prince of Orange arrived from the camp near Liége, and his young wife, Anne of Egmont, was hospitably entertained by the Duchess of Aerschot. Friday, the 25th of October, was the day fixed for the great ceremony. On this afternoon, at three o'clock, the Emperor left the Casino with Philip and the Duke of Savoy, and rode to the palace on his mule. An hour later he entered the great hall, hung with the tapestries of Gideon's Fleece, wearing his mourning robes and the collar of the Order, and leaning on the Prince of Orange's arm. He was followed by Mary of Hungary, Philip, and the Duke of Savoy, who took their places on the daïs at the Emperor's side, while the Knights of the Fleece, the great nobles and Ambassadors, occupied seats below. The deputies, over a thousand in number, who thronged the hall, rose to their feet to receive the Emperor, and then sat down to hear the chief Councillor, Philibert of Brussels, deliver a speech, explaining the reasons for His Majesty's abdication. Then Charles himself addressed the vast assembly. In moving words he recalled the day, forty years before, when, a boy of fifteen, he had been declared of age by his grandfather, the Emperor Maximilian, and glanced briefly at the long record of wars and journeys, and the other chief events of his reign. Finally he commended his successor to them, asking them to serve his son as well as they had served him, and begging his loyal subjects to pardon him for any injustice which he might unwittingly have done them. Tears rolled down the great Emperor's cheeks as he spoke these last words, and Sir Thomas Gresham, who was present, says that there was not a dry eye in the whole assembly.

Christina was present on this memorable occasion. In contemporary prints she is represented standing by the side of the Regent's chair, listening with breathless attention to every word that fell from her uncle's lips. She saw the pathetic scene between the father and son, when Charles, raising Philip from his knees and clasping him in his arms, gave him the investiture of the Provinces, and, turning to the deputies, in a broken voice asked them to excuse his tears, which flowed for love of them. And she listened with still greater emotion to the touching words in which Mary begged the Emperor and the States to forgive whatever mistakes she had made out of ignorance or incapacity, and thanked them from the depth of her heart for their unfailing love and loyalty. Her speech produced a fresh burst of tears, after which Charles thanked his sister for her long and faithful services, and Maes, the Pensionary of Antwerp, bore eloquent testimony to the undying love and gratitude which the States felt for the Queen who had governed them so well.

There were still many formalities to be gone through, many farewells to be said, before Charles could lay down the sovereign power. On the day after his abdication, the Archduke Ferdinand, his favourite nephew, arrived with affectionate messages from his father, who found it impossible to leave Vienna as long as the war with the Turks lasted. The next day he went hunting with the King, Mary, and Christina, and dined with them and Eleanor. On the 3rd of November he left Brussels again after all too short a visit, as Charles wrote to his brother.

Another guest who took leave of the Emperor in the same week was Edward Courtenay, Lord Devonshire. This young nobleman of the blood royal had been exiled from England lest he should marry Elizabeth, and had been so often seen in the palace during the last few months that rumour said he was going to wed Madame of Lorraine. Now he came to thank her for the "gentle entertainment" which she had shown him, and bid her a reluctant farewell before he left for Italy. In the following spring another old friend, Adolf of Holstein, came to Brussels and took leave of the Emperor. The Danish Prince, hearing that all idea of the Savoy marriage was abandoned, took this opportunity to make a last attempt to win Christina's hand. But not even the Duke's constancy could induce her to change her mind, and he went away disconsolate.[505]

A fresh sorrow awaited her in the death of her brother-in-law, the Elector Palatine, who breathed his last at Alzei, in the Lower Palatinate, on the 26th of February, 1556. The fine old man was in his seventy-third year, and had been tenderly nursed all through a long illness by his wife. Three weeks before his death Dorothea sent for his nephew and successor, Otto Heinrich, who remained with him to the end, and brought his body to Heidelberg. Here he lay in state for three days in the Court chapel, after which his remains were borne down the castle slopes by eight noblemen, and laid with his forefathers in the church of the Holy Ghost. By order of the new Elector, he was buried with Lutheran rites. Dorothea and Countess Helene followed on foot with a long train of nobles and students of the University, bearing lighted tapers, and German hymns were sung by the Canons and school-children.[506]

Christina's first impulse was to hasten to her widowed sister, but neither the Emperor nor his sisters would allow her to leave the Netherlands before their departure, saying that she was as dear and indispensable to them as a daughter.[507] She was present at the Casino in the park on the 16th of January, when Charles resigned the kingdoms of Spain and Sicily and his dominions in the New World to Philip, and she accompanied Mary to Antwerp when Philip held his first Chapter of the Fleece. Among the new Knights elected at this meeting were William of Orange, Philip, Duke of Aerschot, and Christina's old friend Jean De Montmorency, Sieur de Courrières, whose whole life had been spent in the Emperor's service, and who had deserved well of Philip by helping to arrange his marriage with Mary Tudor.[508]

On the 5th of February, 1556, the long-protracted peace negotiations were brought to a happy conclusion, and a five years' truce was signed at the Abbey of Vaucelles, near Cambray, by Lalaing on Philip's part and by Coligny on that of Henry. Both parties were to retain their conquests, and the chief prisoners on both sides were to be released. On Lady Day the French Admiral brought the treaty to be confirmed by the King at Brussels, and was received by Philip in the palace. By an unlucky chance, the great hall in which the reception took place was hung with tapestries representing the defeat of Pavia and surrender of Francis I. This wounded the vanity of the French lords, and the King's jester, Brusquet, who had accompanied Coligny, determined to have his revenge on the haughty Spanish Prince. So the next morning at Mass in the Court church, when Philip was in the act of taking his oath on the Gospels to keep the truce, Brusquet suddenly raised a cry of "Largesse!" and, taking a handful of French crowns from a sack which his valet carried, flung them to the crowds who had collected in the great hall adjoining the chapel. The King looked round in surprise at Coligny, who stood dumbfounded, while men, women, and children, rushed to pick up the coins on the floor, and had to be warned off by the archers' pikes. The King was about to ask angrily by what right the French did largesse in his palace, when both Queen Mary and Madame de Lorraine burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter, in which Philip joined so heartily that he had to cling to the altar to save himself from falling.

This absurd incident was related to Charles when, on the following Sunday of Pâques-fleuries, Coligny went to visit him in the Casino. "Well, Brusquet," he said to the jester, "how are you? I hear you have been doing me fine largesse with your crowns." "Sire," replied Brusquet, dropping on one knee, "you take the words out of my mouth in condescending to notice a worm like myself." And the poor fool went home to boast of his interview with the great Emperor to the end of his life.[509]

A grand tournament was held in the park at Brussels to celebrate the conclusion of the truce, and Egmont distinguished himself above all competitors by his prowess. But a quarrel arose between Philip and his aunt, Mary of Hungary, who complained of the disrespect with which her nephew and his Spanish courtiers treated her, saying that, although she had laid down the Regency, she expected to be treated with the honour due to a Queen. She retired to her own domain at Turnhout, but had her revenge a few weeks later, for the States proved so unwilling to grant the aids demanded by the King that Philip was forced to send Arras to beg for his aunt's help. Mary consented to return as soon as she had despatched her most urgent private affairs, and so invaluable was her influence with the Council, that Philip joined his father in entreating her to remain at Brussels during his absence in England. This, however, Mary quite refused to do, saying that the Duke of Savoy would no doubt prove an excellent substitute.[510]

The King and Queen of Bohemia, whom Charles was very anxious to see before his departure, and whose journey had been repeatedly delayed, at length reached Brussels on the 18th of July. Their presence was the signal for a last series of festivities. There were jousts on the Grande Place, banquets in the hôtel-de-ville, hunting-parties at Groenendal in the forest of Soignies, and suppers at the Villa Laura, where Mary entertained her nephews and nieces at an open-air concert. King Max was in high spirits. He made great friends with the Venetian Badoer, and frankly avowed his dislike of the Spaniards, saying, with a ringing laugh, that he was glad to hear the English had taught them a lesson or two. The visit was not without its political intention, and Maximilian succeeded in persuading his uncle to consent to Ferdinand's entreaty, and retain the imperial title for the present, in order to avoid any dispute on the question of the succession.[511]

When his daughter and her husband left Brussels, on the 8th of August, Charles felt himself a free man. At half-past four in the afternoon he set out for Ghent, after receiving the farewells of the chief nobles and Bishops. Many were in tears, but the Emperor remained calm and serene until he rode out of the gates, escorted for the last time by his faithful archers. Then, turning round, he took a last long look at the city towers and wept bitterly. "Everyone about him was in tears," says Badoer, "and many wept when he was gone."[512] Christina accompanied her aunts to Ghent a few days later, and went on at the end of the month with the Queens and Emperor to Zeeland, to wait for a fair wind. On the 15th of October Charles embarked at Flushing, and his sisters followed on another ship. Two days later an easterly breeze sprang up and the fleet set sail. Christina stood on the shore till the ship which bore the great Emperor from his native land dropped below the horizon. Then she retraced her steps sorrowfully to join her children at Ghent.