The English Ambassador at Düren, Nicholas Wotton, had done his utmost to prevent the Duke from accepting Ferdinand's invitation; and Wyatt was charged by Cromwell to neglect no means of preventing an alliance which would defeat all his schemes. The wily Ambassador laid his snares cleverly. When the Cleves Ambassador, Olisleger, told him that the Duke was about to wed the Duchess, he whispered that his master had better be careful and take counsel of King Henry before he took any further pledges.

René's courtship of the Duchess was no secret, and Christina's preference for the popular Prince was plain to everyone at the Imperial Court; but the unworthy insinuations by which the Ambassador strove to blacken her character were altogether his invention.

Since this was the surest way to win both Henry's and Cromwell's favour, Wyatt made unscrupulous use of these slanders to poison William of Cleves's mind against the Duchess whose hand he sought. On the 13th of April the Duke arrived at Ghent, and was met by the Prince of Orange, who brought him to King Ferdinand's rooms. Late the same evening the English Ambassador had a secret interview with him, and did his utmost to dissuade him from entering into any treaty with the Emperor. The Duke's irresolution was now greater than ever. The next day Ferdinand himself conducted him into the Emperor's presence, where he received the most friendly greeting, and was invited to join the imperial family at dinner. The gracious welcome which he received from Mary, and the sight of Christina, went far to remove his doubts, and during the next few days the harmony that prevailed among the Princes excited Wyatt's worst misgivings. The Venetian Ambassador, Francesco Contarini, met the Countess Palatine returning from Ghent, and heard from her servants that a marriage was arranged between her sister and the Duke of Cleves. Monsieur de Vély, the French Envoy, sent this report to Paris, and it was confidently asserted at the French and English Courts that Cleves had settled his quarrel with the Emperor, and was to wed the Duchess.[286]

But these reports were premature. The Duke told Wotton and Wyatt that nothing would induce him to give up Guelders, and at their suggestion he placed a statement of his claims in the hands of Ferdinand, who promised to submit the document to the Emperor. During the next fortnight the question was discussed in all its bearings by Charles and his Councillors. The Duke pressed his suit for the Duchess's hand, and the Emperor went so far as to offer him the reversion of Denmark if he would renounce Guelders. But William was as obstinate as the Emperor, and, when Ferdinand induced Charles to offer Cleves his niece and the duchy of Guelders for his lifetime, he quite refused to accept this proposal. All Ferdinand could persuade him to do, was to consent that the question of Guelders should be referred to the Imperial Chamber, a compromise which satisfied neither party. Still friendly relations were maintained outwardly. On Sunday, the 27th of April, the imperial family attended Mass in state, the Emperor riding to the Church of St. John with the King of the Romans and the boy Legate, Cardinal Farnese, on his left, followed by the Dukes of Brunswick, Cleves, Savoy, and the Marquis of Brandenburg. In the afternoon Ferdinand sent for the Duke again, and made one more attempt to arrange matters, without success. Some insolent words spoken by Cleves's servants aroused the Emperor's anger, upon which the Duke became alarmed, and sent Wotton word that, seeing no hope of agreement, he intended to return home. Early the next morning, without taking leave of anyone, he rode out of the town secretly, and never halted until he was safe in his own dominions. His royal brother-in-law, King Henry, sent him a long letter, congratulating him on his safe return, and advising him solemnly not to marry the Duchess of Milan without finding out the true state of her affections towards the Prince of Orange, lest he should be deceived. Wotton told the King, in reply, that the Duke's affection for Christina was now cooled, partly because she had refused him, and partly because of the information which Henry had given him. All idea of the marriage was certainly abandoned, and on the 22nd of June Cleves himself wrote to tell Henry that he had received friendly overtures from the French King, and was sending Ambassadors to make proposals for his niece, the Princess of Navarre.[287]

Meanwhile the Duke's strange conduct had excited much surprise at Ghent. The Emperor, who had spent the anniversary of his wife's death in retirement at a Carthusian convent in the neighbourhood, returned to find Cleves gone. Henry of Brunswick rode with his friend to the outskirts of the town, and hurried back to be present at the imperial table, where he tried to explain the Duke's abrupt departure by saying that he was afraid of treachery. But Ferdinand and Mary were both seriously annoyed, and the only member of the family to rejoice was Christina, who felt that she could once more breathe freely.

The pacification of Ghent was now complete, and the bulk of the forces were disbanded. On Ascension Day—the 6th of May—the imperial family attended Mass at St. John's, the Queen "walking lovingly up the church, hand in hand with the King of the Romans." The Ambassadors were all present, as well as Cardinal Farnese—in Wotton's opinion "a very calf, and a greater boy in manners and condition than in years."

On the 12th the King of the Romans took leave of his family, but the Council at which he assisted lasted so late in the evening that he did not actually set out on his journey till two o'clock on the following day. About six in the cool hours of the May morning, the Emperor, with his sister and niece, rode out to see the foundations of the new citadel laid, and then continued their journey towards Antwerp, where "great gun-shot" and bonfires welcomed their arrival.[288]

IV.

The Court spent the next three weeks at Bruges, the beautiful old city which was always a favourite with Charles and his sisters, in the ancient Prinzenhof where their mother had died. During these summer days many important events took place, and startling news came from England. On the 10th of June Cromwell was suddenly arrested and sent to the Tower on a charge of high-treason. A fortnight later the new Queen, Anne of Cleves, left Whitehall for Richmond, and on the 9th of July her marriage was pronounced null and void by a decree of Convocation. The ostensible reason for the divorce was a precontract between Anne and Francis of Lorraine. It was true that as children they had been affianced by their respective parents, but, as was common in such cases, all idea of the marriage had been afterwards abandoned, and Henry had professed himself entirely satisfied with the explanations given by Anne's relatives on the subject. But from the first moment that he met his bride at Rochester, on New Year's Day, 1540, he was profoundly disappointed. When Cromwell asked him how he liked her, he replied, "Nothing so well as she was spoken of," adding that, had he known as much of her before as he did now, she should never have set foot in his realm. However, he felt constrained to marry her, for fear of "making a ruffle in the world," and driving her brother into the Emperor's arms. At Whitsuntide he told Cromwell that from the day of his marriage he had become weary of life, and took a solemn oath that before God Anne had never been his lawful wife.

From that moment Cromwell knew that his own fate was sealed. "The King loves not the Queen," he said to Wriothesley. "What a triumph for the Emperor and the Pope!" A week afterwards he was committed to the Tower, and on the 28th of July he was beheaded.[289]

The news of his fall was received with general satisfaction abroad. King Francis gave vent to boisterous joy, and sent his brother word how sincerely he rejoiced to hear that this false and wicked traitor, who had brought the noblest heads in England to the block, was at length unmasked. The Emperor, on the contrary, showed no surprise or emotion when he heard the news from Archdeacon Pate, the new Envoy who had succeeded Wyatt, but merely said: "What! is he in the Tower of London, and by the King's counsel?" And when, on the 6th of July, Pate informed him that the King had repudiated his wife, he cast his eye steadfastly on the speaker, and asked what scruples His Majesty entertained regarding his marriage with the daughter of Cleves. The Ambassador explained, as best he could, what he took to be the motives of the King's action, upon which the Emperor said that he was convinced Cromwell was the true cause of all the terrible crimes which had of late years been committed against religion and order in England. So friendly was the Emperor that Pate wrote to the Duke of Norfolk: "If His Majesty hath thereby lost the hearts of the Electors, he hath in their places gained those of the Emperor and the French King."[290]

Both at Bruges and Antwerp the news aroused much excitement among the merchants, who were unanimous in the opinion that the King now intended to take the Duchess of Milan "for the true heart which she bore him." But nothing was further from Christina's mind. She had rejoiced at the failure of the King's suit, and saw the Duke of Cleves leave Ghent without regret. Now all seemed ripe for the fulfilment of her long-cherished hopes. The Prince of Orange had been unremitting in his attendance on the Emperor since his arrival, and, as all men knew, was honoured by His Majesty's confidence and affection. His popularity with the army was unbounded, and it was a common saying that wherever the Prince's little pony went, every Dutchman would follow. The Queen looked kindly on his suit, and Christina's heart was already his own. But when, in these bright June days at Bruges, he modestly laid his suit before the Emperor, an unexpected difficulty arose. Three years before a marriage with the Duke of Lorraine's only daughter had been proposed for the young Prince of Orange by his uncle, William of Nassau-Dillenburg, the head of the German branch of the house. The idea met with Henry of Nassau's cordial approval, and at his request the Emperor sent his servant Montbardon to obtain Duke Antoine's consent. This was granted without any difficulty, and the contract was drawn up before the Count of Nassau's death.[291] Now the Duke urged the Prince to keep this long-standing engagement and marry his daughter Anne—the plain but excellent lady whose portrait Holbein had taken for King Henry. The Prince had never seen his destined bride, and was very reluctant to carry out the contract, but the Emperor was resolute. Antoine already had a serious grievance in the matter of Guelders, and it was of the highest importance to secure his alliance. Accordingly, Charles told René that he must prove himself a loyal knight, and with his own hand drew up the articles of the marriage treaty, and sent them to Nancy by the Archdeacon of Arras. Christina's name is never mentioned in the whole transaction. It was the old story of the Count Palatine and the Archduchess Eleanor. She was a daughter of the House of Habsburg, and knew that the Emperor's will must be obeyed. So she could only bow her head in silence and submit to his decrees. If she wept bitter tears, it was in secret, in her quiet chamber in the ancient Cour des Princes at Bruges, looking down on the green waters of the canal.[292]

There was great rejoicing throughout Lorraine when the Emperor's messenger reached Nancy and the marriage was proclaimed. Anne was very popular throughout the duchy, and since her mother's death, a year before, had taken a prominent place at the ducal Court, where her tact and kindness made her universally beloved. The wedding took place in the last week of August at Bar.[293] All the members of the ducal house were present, including the Duke and Duchess of Guise, with their sons and daughters, and the Cardinal of Lorraine, who came from the French Court to pronounce the nuptial blessing.

The Prince of Orange's martial appearance and his splendid suite made a favourable impression on his new relatives, as Antoinette de Bourbon wrote to her daughter in Scotland:

On the 27th of September the Prince of Orange brought his bride to Brussels, where the States were assembled. The whole Court rode out to welcome the happy pair, and escorted them to the Nassau palace, where the Prince changed his travelling dress for a Court mantle, and hastened to pay his respects to the Emperor. A succession of fêtes was given in their honour, and dances, masques, and banquets, were the order of the day. The Princess charmed everyone by her gracious manners, and her fine figure and splendid clothes and jewels became the object of general admiration.

On the 2nd of October a grand tournament was given in the Prince's house, which the Emperor, Queen Mary, and Christina, honoured with their presence. René himself challenged all comers at the barriers, and his wife was the most charming hostess. Before Charles left, he presented Anne with a costly ring, and appointed the Prince to succeed Antoine de Lalaing as Stadtholder of Holland and Friesland. Three days afterwards the newly-married pair left Court for their own home at Breda, and the Emperor set out on a progress through Artois and Hainault, leaving his sister and niece at Brussels.

René's wife soon became a great favourite with the Queen, and Christina danced as gaily as the rest at the wedding fêtes. But it is significant that the only mention made of her in contemporary records is in the despatches of the English Ambassador, Richard Pate, who tells us that the Duchess of Milan spent much of her time in the company of her brother-in-law, the Palatine.[295] Frederic had come to Brussels to confer with the Emperor on German affairs, and, if possible, to raise a loan of 600,000 ducats for his intended campaign against Denmark. But although Charles professed himself ready and anxious to oblige his good cousin, the Regent would give him no answer, and ended by telling him to get the money from the Imperial Treasury. Richard Pate held long and confidential conversations with the Palatine, who recalled his visit to Windsor with delight, and spoke with warm admiration of the beauty of the singing in St. George's Chapel. He was curious to know if his old friend the King had grown as fat as he was represented in recent portraits, and rejoiced to hear that His Majesty was lusty and merry. As for the Duchess of Milan, he could only feel sorry that so charming a lady should still lack a husband, and frankly regretted that she had not married King Henry, or, failing him, the Prince of Orange.[296] After his return to Germany, Frederic made another attempt to bring about his sister-in-law's marriage to the Duke of Cleves, who still hesitated between his old love for Christina and his reluctance to give up Guelders. But negotiations were already in progress with another suitor, who had bided his time patiently, and who was now at length to obtain his reward.

The Prince of Orange's union with Anne of Lorraine had strengthened the ties that bound her father to the Emperor, and a second marriage, which took place this autumn, united the two houses still more closely. Among the young nobles who accompanied René to Bar for his wedding was Charles, Prince of Chimay, the eldest son of the Duke of Aerschot, the wealthy and powerful Governor of Brabant, who was foremost among the Regent's confidential advisers, and whom she affectionately called by the pet name of "Moriceau." On the death of his mother in 1539, the young Prince had succeeded to her vast estates, and lived at the fine castle of Beaumont, near the French frontier. At Bar he saw and fell in love with Louise de Guise, the lovely girl whom Henry VIII. would gladly have made his wife. But there were difficulties in the young suitor's way. His own family began by opposing the marriage, and it was some time before Charles's consent could be obtained. The Duke of Guise had long been the Emperor's most bitter enemy, and was known to have strongly opposed his journey through France. Fortunately, Duchess Antoinette was from the first on the lovers' side, and succeeded in gaining her husband's consent. For some time past King Francis had been trying to arrange a marriage between her eldest son, the Count of Aumale, and the Pope's granddaughter, "Vyquetorya Farnese," as Louise calls her in one of her letters. But the Pope haggled over the dowry, and insisted on asking the Emperor's consent; so that Antoinette had a troublesome task in her lord's absence, and complained sorely to the Queen of Scotland of these vexatious delays.

Happily for the good Duchess, the young Prince had his way, and the contract between him and Louise was duly signed at Bar on the 22nd of December. On the same day the Emperor, accompanied by the Regent and Duchess of Milan, paid a visit to the Duke of Aerschot at Beaumont, and offered him their warmest congratulations on his son's marriage.[298] The wedding took place at Joinville in the following March, by which time Christina's own marriage to Louise's cousin was arranged, and all Lorraine rang with the sound of wedding-bells.

V.

The vaunted alliance between Charles and Francis did not last long, and less than a year after the Emperor and King had parted at St. Quentin, vowing eternal friendship, a renewal of war seemed already imminent. Francis was bitterly disappointed to find that none of the great results which he expected from Charles's visit had come to pass. The Emperor firmly declined to marry his daughter, and gave no signs of surrendering Milan to the Duke of Orleans. All he would offer was the reversion of the Low Countries as his daughter's portion if she married Orleans. This failed to satisfy Francis, who declared that he would have Milan and nothing else. In order to prevent his niece, Jeanne of Navarre, marrying the Prince of Spain, the King offered her to the Duke of Cleves, who signed a treaty with France this summer, but was not actually affianced to the little Princess until the Duchess of Milan was finally betrothed to Francis of Lorraine. Upon hearing of the alliance between France and Cleves, Charles retaliated by solemnly investing his son Philip with the duchy of Milan. This ceremony took place at Brussels on the 11th of October, and was regarded by Francis as an open act of defiance. He vented his anger on the Constable, who asked leave to retire; while Madame d'Étampes did her best to obtain her rival's disgrace and induce the King to declare war against the Emperor. But Francis was loth to let his old servant go, and said to Montmorency, with tears in his eyes: "How can you ask me to let you leave me? I have only one fault to find with you, that you do not love what I love."[299] The Constable consented to remain, and for the moment the crisis was delayed.

After visiting the forts along the frontier and leaving garrisons in every town, the Emperor came to Namur for Christmas, and prepared for his final departure. Forty chariots were needed for his own use, and all the horses and carts in the neighbouring provinces were requisitioned to provide for the conveyance of his immense suite. On Innocents' Day the Court moved to Luxembourg, and all the gentlemen of the countryside rode out to meet the Emperor. With him came the Queen and the Duchess of Milan, and on the same evening they were joined by the Duke of Lorraine and his son Francis, the Marquis of Pont-à-Mousson. On the Feast of the Three Kings the imperial party attended Mass in the cathedral, and the Emperor, after his usual custom, presented golden cups to three abbeys in the town. And on the same day the marriage of the Marquis to the Duchess of Milan was finally concluded, to the great delight of the old Duke, who was as much pleased as the bridegroom. Two days afterwards Charles took an affectionate farewell of his sister and niece, and went on to Regensburg, leaving them to return to Brussels, while the Duke of Lorraine hastened to Nancy to summon the States and inform his loyal subjects of his son's marriage.[300]

On the 1st of March the contract drawn up by the Imperial Ministers, Granvelle and De Praet, was signed by the Duke of Lorraine at Bar, and on the 20th by the Emperor. The ducal manors of Blamont and Denœuvre were settled upon the Duchess, and, in order that she might not lose any rank by her marriage, the Marquis received the title of Duke of Bar.[301] On the 12th of March the Queen and Duchess both went to the Castle of Beaumont in Hainault, to be present at the splendid reception which the Duke of Aerschot gave his daughter-in-law. The Duchess of Guise herself accompanied the beloved Louise to her future home, and wrote the following account of the festivities to Queen Mary of Scotland from her husband's château at Guise:

Ten days later Louise herself wrote a long and happy letter to her sister from Beaumont, full of the delights of her new home and of the kindness with which she had been received by her husband's family.

"Your very humble and obedient sister,
"Louise of Lorraine.

"From Beaumont, the 25th day of March."[303]

The keenest interest in these marriages was shown at the Court of Scotland. King James wrote cordial letters from Edinburgh to his sister-in-law and to the Duke of Aerschot, and congratulated the Princess of Orange on her happy expectations, begging her to write to him and his wife more frequently.[304] Anne had always been on affectionate terms with her aunt and cousins at Joinville, and the presence of Louise at Brussels this summer was another bond between them.

Meanwhile King Francis was greatly annoyed to hear of the Duchess of Milan's marriage. He complained bitterly to the Duke of Guise and the Cardinal of their brother's desertion, and vowed that Antoine and his son should feel the full weight of his displeasure. He was as good as his word, and, when the Prince assumed the title of Duke of Bar, disputed his rights to this duchy on the ground that it was a fief of the Crown. In order to satisfy these new claims, the Duke was compelled to sign an agreement on the 22nd of April, by which he and his son consented to do homage to the King for the duchy of Bar, and to grant free passage of French troops through this province.[305]

At the same time Francis invited the Duke of Cleves to come to Blois, as he wished his marriage to the Princess of Navarre to be celebrated without delay. On the 11th of April the States assembled at Düsseldorf were amazed to hear from Chancellor Olisleger that their Duke, being unable to obtain the Duchess of Milan's hand without the surrender of Guelders, was about to contract another marriage with the Princess of Navarre, and had actually started on his wedding journey.[306] The King and Queen of Navarre had always been averse to their daughter's union with the Duke of Cleves, but Margaret's resistance was overcome by the royal brother whom she adored, and her husband gave a reluctant consent to the marriage; but the little Princess Jeanne, a delicate child of twelve, refused in the most determined manner to marry this foreign Prince. In vain she was scolded and whipped, and threatened by her uncle the King with worse punishments. For many weeks the child persisted in her refusal, and, when compelled to yield, signed a protest on the eve of her marriage, which with the secret connivance of her parents was duly witnessed and preserved. On the 14th of June, 1540, the strange wedding was finally solemnized at Châtelhérault, on the Garonne. A series of Arcadian fêtes in beautiful summer weather were given by King Francis, who never lost an opportunity for indulging his love of romance. Arbours and colonnades of verdure were reared on the river-banks. King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table were seen riding forth in quest of adventure; high-born ladies, clad as nymphs and dryads, danced on the greensward by torchlight.[307] The bridegroom gave his bride magnificent jewels, although Jeanne was never seen in public, and did not even appear at the ball on the night before the wedding. Finally, when all were assembled in the royal chapel, and the King came to lead his niece to the altar, the little Princess, weighed down by her costly jewels and gold and silver brocades, was unable to walk. "Take her by the neck!" cried the impatient monarch to Montmorency, and the Constable of France, not venturing to disobey the royal command, lifted up the frightened child in his arms and bore her to the altar before the eyes of the whole Court. As he did so he was heard to mutter, "C'en est fini, de ma faveur, adieu lui dis!" and, surely enough, the day after the wedding he received his dismissal, and left Court, never to return during the lifetime of Francis.[308]

The Duke had agreed, in order to satisfy the King and Queen of Navarre, that the marriage should be merely formal, and consented to leave his unwilling bride with her parents for another year. Accordingly, three days later he bade them farewell, and rode, attended by a strong French escort, through the Ardennes, and travelled down the Moselle and Rhine to Cologne. As he passed through Luxembourg he saw the trained bands gathering in force on the frontier, and heard that they were assembling under Count Büren to meet his successful rival, Francis of Lorraine, and bring him to Brussels for his wedding.[309]

Here great preparations had been made to do honour to the Emperor's niece, and the guests came from far and wide. Christina's trousseau was worthy of her exalted rank, and the Queen presented her with a wonderful carcanet of rubies, diamonds, and emeralds, with pendants of large pear-shaped pearls. The marriage was solemnized on Sunday, the 10th of July, in the great hall where, twenty-six years before, Isabella of Austria, had been married to the King of Denmark. Only two of the foreign Ambassadors were absent from the wedding banquet—the Englishmen Vaughan and Carne—a fact which naturally excited much comment. King Henry changed colour when Chapuys told him of Christina's marriage, and was at no pains to conceal his surprise and vexation. He said repeatedly that he wondered how the Emperor could allow so noble and renowned a Princess to marry the Marquis, when there could be no doubt that Anne of Cleves was his lawful wife, and insisted that this had been the chief reason of his own separation from this lady. After the wedding he again referred to the incident, and told Chapuys in confidence that the Duke of Lorraine had secretly made over his rights on Guelders to the French King, and would never help the Emperor against France, since Monseiur de Guise and the Cardinal of Lorraine were entirely on the French side. Chapuys listened with polite attention, and reported most of the King's conversation for the amusement of the Court at Brussels.[310]

Here a series of fêtes took place after the wedding. A grand tournament was held in front of the hôtel-de-ville, followed by the mock siege of a fortress in the park, and a hunting-party in the Forest of Soignies.[311]

On the 14th, the Duke and Duchess of Bar left Brussels to pay a round of visits in the neighbourhood and "see the country," and on the 27th the Queen went to meet them at the Duke of Aerschot's hunting-palace at Heverlé, near Louvain, and spent several days there with the two other newly-married couples, the Prince and Princess of Orange and the Prince and Princess of Chimay.[312]

Finally, on the 1st of August, the bride and bridegroom set out on their journey, attended by a brilliant company, which included the Prince and Princess of Orange, the Duke of Aerschot, the Prince and Princess of Chimay, the Counts of Berghen, Büren, and Brederode. They travelled by slow stages, resting at Namur, Luxembourg, Thionville, and Metz. Triumphal arches were erected over the gates of each city, and the burghers came out in procession to greet the bride. At Metz Christina was presented with an illuminated book on "Marriage," by the Regent of the University, Édmond du Boullay, and the Chapter of Toul offered her a gold cup, filled with 300 crowns, while the city gave her 200 crowns and ten barrels of choice wine.[313]

On the 8th the wedding-party reached Pont-à-Mousson, and found a large family gathering waiting to receive them. A few days before the Cardinal of Lorraine had joined the Duke and Duchess of Guise at Joinville, and had accompanied them to Pont-à-Mousson, as Antoinette wrote,

The Duchess of Guise had collected most of her family for the occasion, and brought four of her sons—Aumale, Mayenne, Charles, Archbishop of Reims, and Louis, Bishop of Troyes—to Pont-à-Mousson, as well as her little grandson, the Duke of Longueville, the Queen of Scotland's son by her first marriage. Duke Antoine and his younger son, Nicholas de Vaudemont, Bishop of Metz, were also present, together with all the chief nobles of Lorraine.

It was a strange meeting. Guise and his sons had often crossed swords with the Prince of Orange and Aerschot, and the Duke had refused to meet the Emperor on his memorable visit to Chantilly. Now he was engaged in repairing the forts along the frontier in view of another war, an occupation which had at least one merit in his wife's eyes, and kept him longer at home than he had been for many years. All alike, however, friends and foes, joined in giving the new Duchess a hearty welcome, and drank joyously to the health and prosperity of the illustrious pair.

At Pont-à-Mousson Francis took his bride to the convent of Poor Clares, to see his grandmother, Philippa of Guelders, who had taken the veil twenty years before, but still retained all her faculties, and was the object of her sons' devoted affection. The Duke of Guise and his wife constantly visited the good old lady, whose name appears so often in Antoinette's letters, and who now embraced her new granddaughter tenderly and gave the bridal pair her blessing. The next day Christina entered Nancy, where immense crowds assembled to receive her, and choirs of white-robed maidens welcomed her coming at the ancient gateway of La Craffe. One quaint medieval practice which had lasted until this century was dispensed with. It was the custom for a band of peasants from the neighbouring village of Laxou, to beat the pools in the marshes under the palace walls all through the night when the Princes of Lorraine brought their brides home, to drive away the frogs, whose croaking might disturb the ducal slumbers. But instead of this, the peasant women of Laxou stood at the palace gates as the Duchess alighted, and presented her with baskets of flowers and ripe strawberries and cherries.[315]

A grand tournament was held the following morning, on the Place des Dames in front of the ducal palace, in which many of the Flemish nobles took part, and was followed by a state banquet and ball—"all very sumptuously done," wrote Lord William Howard, the English Ambassador.[316] Then the wedding festivities came to an end, the gay party broke up, and the old city which was henceforth to be Christina's home resumed its wonted air of sleepy tranquillity.