The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.

CHRISTINA OF DENMARK

DUCHESS OF MILAN AND LORRAINE

1522-1590

Christina, Duchess of Milan

CHRISTINA OF DENMARK
DUCHESS OF MILAN AND LORRAINE
1522-1590

BY JULIA CARTWRIGHT (MRS. ADY)

AUTHOR OF "ISABELLA D'ESTE," "BALDASSARRE CASTIGLIONE," "THE PAINTERS OF FLORENCE," ETC.

"Dieu, qu'il la fait bon regarder,
La gracieuse, bonne et belle!
Pour les grans biens qui sont en elle,
Chacun est prest de la louer.
Qui se pourrait d'elle lasser?
Toujours sa beauté renouvelle.
Dieu, qu'il la fait bon regarder,
La gracieuse, bonne et belle!
Par deça, ne delà la mer,
Ne sçay Dame ne Damoiselle
Qui soit en tous biens parfais telle;
C'est un songe que d'y penser,
Dieu, qu'il la fait bon regarder!"

Charles d'Orléans

NEW YORK
E. P. DUTTON AND COMPANY
1913

PREFACE

Christina of Denmark is known to the world by Holbein's famous portrait in the National Gallery. The great Court painter, who was sent to Brussels by Henry VIII. to take the likeness of the Emperor's niece, did his work well. With unerring skill he has rendered the "singular good countenance," the clear brown eyes with their frank, honest gaze, the smile hovering about "the faire red lips," the slender fingers of the nervously clasped hands, which Brantôme and his royal mistress, Catherine de' Medici, thought "the most beautiful hands in the world." And in a wonderful way he has caught the subtle charm of the young Duchess's personality, and made it live on his canvas. What wonder that Henry fell in love with the picture, and vowed that he would have the Duchess, if she came to him without a farthing! But for all these brave words the masterful King's wooing failed. The ghost of his wronged wife, Katherine of Aragon, the smoke of plundered abbeys, and the blood of martyred friars, came between him and his destined bride, and Christina was never numbered in the roll of Henry VIII.'s wives. This splendid, if perilous, adventure was denied her. But many strange experiences marked the course of her chequered life, and neither beauty nor virtue could save her from the shafts of envious Fortune. Her troubles began from the cradle. When she was little more than a year old, her father, King Christian II., was deposed by his subjects, and her mother, the gentle Isabella of Austria, died in exile of a broken heart. She lost her first husband, Francesco Sforza, at the end of eighteen months. Her second husband, Francis Duke of Lorraine, died in 1545, leaving her once more a widow at the age of twenty-three. Her only son was torn from her arms while still a boy by a foreign invader, Henry II., and she herself was driven into exile. Seven years later she was deprived of the regency of the Netherlands, just when the coveted prize seemed within her grasp, and the last days of her existence were embittered by the greed and injustice of her cousin, Philip II.

Yet, in spite of hard blows and cruel losses, Christina's life was not all unhappy. The blue bird—the symbol of perpetual happiness in the faery lore of her own Lorraine—may have eluded her grasp, but she filled a great position nobly, and tasted some of the deepest and truest of human joys. Men and women of all descriptions adored her, and she had a genius for friendship which survived the charms of youth and endured to her dying day. A woman of strong affections and resolute will, she inherited a considerable share of the aptitude for government that distinguished the women of the Habsburg race. Her relationship with Charles V. and residence at the Court of Brussels brought her into close connection with political events during the long struggle with France, and it was in a great measure due to her exertions that the peace which ended this Sixty Years' War was finally concluded at Câteau-Cambrésis in 1559.

Holbein's Duchess, it is evident, was a striking figure, and her life deserves more attention than it has hitherto received. Brantôme honoured her with a place in his gallery of fair ladies, and the sketch which he has drawn, although inaccurate in many details, remains true in its main outlines. But with this exception Christina's history has never yet been written. The chief sources from which her biography is drawn are the State Archives of Milan and Brussels, supplemented by documents in the Record Office, the Bibliothèque Nationale, the Biblioteca Zelada near Pavia, and the extremely interesting collection of Guise letters in the Balcarres Manuscripts, which has been preserved in the Advocates' Library at Edinburgh. A considerable amount of information, as will be seen from the Bibliography at the end of this volume, has been collected from contemporary memoirs, from the histories of Bucholtz and Henne, and the voluminous correspondence of Cardinal Granvelle and Philip II., as well as from Tudor, Spanish, and Venetian State Papers.

In conclusion, I have to acknowledge the kind help which I have received in my researches from Monsignor Rodolfo Maiocchi, Rector of the Borromeo College at Pavia, from Signor O. F. Tencajoli, and from the keepers of English and foreign archives, among whom I must especially name Signor Achille Giussani, of the Archivio di Stato at Milan, Monsieur Gaillard, Director of the Brussels Archives, and Mr. Hubert Hall. My sincere thanks are due to Count Antonio Cavagna Sangiuliani for giving me permission to make use of manuscripts in his library at Zelada; to Monsieur Leon Cardon for leave to reproduce four of the Habsburg portraits in his fine collection at Brussels; and to Mr. Henry Oppenheimer for allowing me to publish his beautiful and unique medal of the Duchess of Milan. I must also thank Sir Kenneth Mackenzie and the Trustees of the Advocates' Library for permission to print a selection from the Balcarres Manuscripts, and Mr. Campbell Dodgson and Mr. G. F. Hill for the kindness with which they have placed the treasures of the British Museum at my disposal. Lastly, a debt of gratitude, which I can never sufficiently express, is due to Dr. Hagberg-Wright and the staff of the London Library for the invaluable help which they have given me in this, as in all my other works.

JULIA CARTWRIGHT.

Ockham,
Midsummer Day, 1913.

CONTENTS

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

CHRISTINA OF DENMARK

BOOK I
ISABELLA OF AUSTRIA, QUEEN OF DENMARK, THE MOTHER OF CHRISTINA
1507-1514

I.

The 19th of July, 1507, was a memorable day in the history of Malines. A solemn requiem Mass was sung that morning in the ancient church of S. Rombaut for the soul of Philip, King of Castille and Archduke of Austria, and, by right of his mother, Duke of Burgundy and Count of Flanders and Brabant. The news of this young monarch's sudden death at Burgos had spread consternation throughout the Netherlands, where the handsome, free-handed Prince was very popular with the subjects who enjoyed peace and prosperity under his rule. "Never," wrote a contemporary chronicler, "was there such lamentation made for any King, Duke, or Count, as for our good King Philip. There was no church or monastery in the whole land where solemn Masses were not said for the repose of his soul, and the mourning was greatest in the city of Antwerp, where all the people assembled for the yearly Fair wept over this noble young Prince who had died at the age of twenty-eight."[1] The King's corpse was laid in the dark vaults of Miraflores, where his widow, the unhappy Queen Juana, kept watch by her husband's grave night and day; while, in obedience to his last wishes, his heart was brought to the Netherlands and buried in his mother's tomb at Bruges. Now the States-General and nobles were summoned by Margaret of Austria, the newly-proclaimed Governess of the Netherlands, to attend her brother's funeral at Malines.

July, 1507] MARGARET OF AUSTRIA

From the gates of the Keyserhof, through the narrow streets of the old Flemish city, the long procession wound its way: Knights of the Golden Fleece, nobles, deputies, Bishops and clergy, merchants, artisans, and beggars, all clad in deep mourning. Twelve heralds, followed by a crowd of gentlemen with lighted torches, bore the armour and banners of the dead King to the portals of S. Rombaut. There an immense catafalque, draped with cloth of gold and blazing with wax lights, had been erected in the centre of the nave. Three golden crowns, symbols of the three realms over which Philip held sway, hung from the vault, and the glittering array of gold and silver images on the high-altar stood out against the sable draperies on the walls. A funeral oration was pronounced by the late King's confessor, the Bishop of Arras chanted the requiem Mass, and when the last blessing had been given, Golden Fleece threw his staff on the floor, crying: "The King is dead!"[2] At the sound of these thrice-repeated words the heralds lowered their banners to the ground, and there was a moment of profound silence, only broken by the sound of weeping. Then Golden Fleece cried in a ringing voice: "Charles, Archduke of Austria!" and all eyes were turned to the fair, slender boy, who, robed in a long black mantle, knelt alone before the altar. "My lord lives! long may he live!" cried the King-at-Arms; and a great shout went up on all sides: "Long live Charles, Archduke of Austria and Prince of Castille!" A sword blessed by the Bishop of Arras was placed in the boy's hands, and the heralds of Burgundy, Flanders, Holland, and Friesland, raising their fallen pennons, each in turn proclaimed the titles of the youthful Prince, who was to be known to the world as Charles V.

No one wept more bitterly for King Philip than his only sister, Margaret, the widowed Duchess of Savoy, as she knelt in her oratory close to the great church. Although only twenty-seven, she had known many sorrows. After being wedded to the Dauphin at two years old, and educated at the French Court till she reached the age of thirteen, she was rejected by Charles VIII. in favour of Anne of Brittany, and sent back to her father, the Emperor Maximilian. Three years afterwards she went to Spain as the bride of Don Juan, the heir to the crowns of Castille and Aragon, only to lose her husband and infant son within a few months of each other. In 1501 she became the wife of Duke Philibert of Savoy, with whom she spent the three happiest years of her life. But in September, 1504, the young Duke died of pleurisy, the result of a chill which he caught out hunting, and his heart-broken widow returned once more to her father's Court.

Feb., 1509] MAXIMILIAN'S GRANDCHILDREN

On the death of Philip in the following year, Maximilian prevailed upon his daughter to undertake the government of the Netherlands, and in April, 1507, Margaret was proclaimed Regent, and took up her abode at Malines. She was a singularly able and gifted woman, and her personal charms and rich dowry soon attracted new suitors. Before she became Regent she had received proposals of marriage from Henry VII. of England, which Maximilian urged her to accept, saying that she might divide the year between England and the Netherlands. Louis XII., who in his boyhood had played with the Archduchess at Amboise, would also gladly have made her his second wife, but, as he remarked: "Madame Marguerite's father has arranged marriages for her three times over, and each time she has fared badly." Margaret herself was quite decided on the subject, and declared that she would never marry again. Henceforth she devoted herself exclusively to the administration of the Netherlands and the guardianship of her brother's young family. Of the six children which Juana of Castille had borne him, two remained in Spain, the younger boy Ferdinand and the infant Katherine, who did not see the light until months after her father's death. But the elder boy, Charles, and his three sisters, grew up under their aunt's eye in the picturesque old palace at Malines, which is still known as the Keyserhof, or Cour de l'Empereur. The eldest girl, Eleanor, afterwards Queen of Portugal and France, was two years older than her brother; the second, Isabella, the future Queen of Denmark, born on the 15th of August, 1501, was nearly six; and Mary, the Queen of Hungary, who was to play so great a part in the history of the Netherlands, had only just completed her first year. Margaret, whose own child hardly survived its birth, lavished all a mother's affection on her youthful nephew and nieces. If the boy was naturally the chief object of her care, the little girls held a place very near to her heart. This was especially the case with "Madame Isabeau," her godchild, who was born when Margaret was living at Malines before her second marriage. A gentle and charming child, Isabella won the hearts of all, and became fondly attached to the brother who was so nearly her own age.

CHARLES V. (1515)

By Bernard van Orley (Cardon Collection)

To face p. [4]

Margaret's letters to the Emperor abound in allusions to these children, whose welfare was a matter of deep interest to their grandfather. In the midst of the most anxious affairs of State, when he was presiding over turbulent Diets or warring beyond the Alps, Maximilian was always eager for news of "our very dear and well-beloved children." The arrangements of their household, the choice of their tutors and companions, their childish maladies and amusements, were all fully reported to him. One unlucky day, when the royal children had just recovered from measles, Madame Isabeau caught the smallpox, and gave it to Madame Marie. Then Madame Leonore complained of her head, and since Margaret had been told that the malady was very contagious, and especially dangerous in winter, she felt it advisable to keep her nephew at Brussels out of reach of infection. But this precaution proved fruitless, for presently the boy sickened and became dangerously ill. Great was the alarm which his condition excited, and it was only at the end of three weeks that Margaret was able to inform the Emperor, who was in Italy fighting against the Venetians, that his grandson was out of danger.[3]

May, 1509] A SFORZA DUKE

The education of Charles and his sisters was the subject of their guardian's most anxious consideration. A lady of Navarre, Dame Anne de Beaumont, took charge of the little girls from their infancy, and watched over them with a tenderness which earned their lifelong gratitude. The old King of Aragon rewarded this lady with the Order of S. Iago, while Margaret begged that she might be allowed to spend her old age in one of the Archduke's houses at Ghent, seeing that she had served "Mesdames mes nièces" so long and so well, and had been but poorly paid for her trouble. Among their teachers was Louis Vives, the learned friend of Erasmus, who afterwards became tutor to their cousin, the Princess Mary of England, and took Sir Thomas More's daughters as his models. Vives taught his pupils Greek and Latin, and made them study the Gospels, and St. Paul's Epistles, as well as some parts of the Old Testament. French romances, then so much in vogue, were banished from their schoolroom, and the only tales which they were allowed to read were those of Joseph and his brethren, of the Roman matron Lucretia, and the well-known story of Griselda. Madame Leonore was fond of reading at a very early age, but Madame Isabeau was more occupied with her dolls, and is represented holding one in her arms in the triptych of Charles and his sisters at Vienna. All the children were very fond of music, in which they were daily instructed by the Archduchess's organist, and there is a charming portrait of Eleanor playing on the clavichord in Monsieur Cardon's collection at Brussels. When, in 1508, the Spanish Legate, Cardinal Carvajal, visited Malines, Charles and his sisters were confirmed by him in the palace chapel, and the Archduke addressed a letter of thanks to Pope Julius II. in his childish round hand.

ELEANOR OF AUSTRIA, QUEEN OF PORTUGAL AND FRANCE

By Bernard van Orley (Cardon Collection)

To face p. [6]

Margaret was careful to provide her young charges with suitable companions. A niece of Madame de Beaumont and a Spanish girl of noble birth were brought up with the Archduchesses, while the sons of the Marquis of Brandenburg and Duke of Saxe-Lauenburg were among Charles's playmates. Another youth whom the Emperor sent to be educated at Malines in 1509 was his godson, Maximilian Sforza, the eldest son of the unfortunate Duke Lodovico and Beatrice d'Este. While his younger brother, Francesco, afterwards the husband of Christina of Denmark, remained at Innsbruck with his cousin, the Empress Bianca, Maximilian grew up with Charles, and throughout his life never ceased to regard Margaret as a second mother. The young Duke of Milan's name often figures in the Archduchess's correspondence with her father. One day Maximilian tells her to borrow 3,000 livres from the Fuggers, and give them to the Duke, who has not enough to buy his own clothes, let alone those of his servants.[4] At another time we find Margaret appealing to her father to settle the disputes of precedence which have arisen between the Dukes of Milan and Saxe-Lauenburg, upon which Maximilian replied that they were too young to think of such matters, and that for the present they had better take the place of honour on alternate days.

It was a free and joyous life which these young Princes and Princesses led at the Court of Malines. If they were kept strictly to their lessons, they also had plenty of amusements. They played games, shot with bows and arrows, and looked on at stag-hunts from the balcony of the Swan, an old hostelry in the market-place. Charles had a little chariot, drawn by two ponies, in which he often drove his sisters through the town and out into the open country. Above all they enjoyed the visits which they paid to the Castle of Vueren, near Brussels, where Charles often went by his grandfather's orders to enjoy fresh air and take hunting expeditions. The old Emperor was delighted to hear of his grandson's taste for sport, and wrote from Augsburg that, if the Archduke had not been fond of hunting, people would have suspected him of being a bastard.[5]

June, 1512] "FELIX AUSTRIA NUBE"

When, in 1512, Maximilian came to Brussels, and Charles was sent to meet him, he begged Margaret to bring the three Princesses, without delay, to "amuse themselves in the park at Vueren," and sent the haunch of a stag which he had killed that day as a present to his "dear little daughters." At the children's urgent entreaty, the Emperor himself rode out to join them at supper, and invited them to a banquet in the palace at Brussels on Midsummer Day. When the English Ambassador, Sir Edward Poynings, came to pay the Emperor his respects, he found His Majesty in riding-boots, standing at the palace gates, with the Lady Regent, the Lord Prince and his sisters, looking on at a great bonfire in the square. The Ambassador and his colleague, Spinelli, were both invited to return to the palace for supper, and had a long conversation with the Lady Margaret, in whom they found the same perfect friend as ever, "while the Prince and his sisters danced gaily with the other young folk till between nine and ten o'clock."[6]

But this merry party was soon to break up. Before the end of the year Maximilian Sforza crossed the Brenner, and entered Milan amidst the acclamations of his father's old subjects, and eighteen months later two of the young Archduchesses were wedded to foreign Kings.

II.

May, 1514] MARRIAGE-MAKING

While her nieces were still children Margaret was busy with plans for their marriage. Her views for them were ambitious and frankly expressed. "All your granddaughters," she wrote to her father, "should marry Kings." The old Emperor himself was an inveterate matchmaker, and the House of Austria had been proverbially fortunate in its alliances. Tu felix Austria nube had passed into a common saying. By his marriage with Mary of Burgundy, Maximilian entered on the vast inheritance of Charles the Bold, and his grandson was heir to the throne of Spain by right of his mother Juana. In 1509 proposals for two of the Archduchesses came from Portugal, and Margaret urged her father to accept these offers, remarking shrewdly that King Emanuel was a wealthy monarch, and that there were few marriageable Princes in Europe. If both Madame Leonore and Madame Marie were betrothed to the two Portuguese Princes, there would still be two of her nieces to contract other alliances. But Maximilian's thoughts were too much occupied with his war against Venice to consider these proposals seriously, and the matter was allowed to drop.[7] Meanwhile Madame Isabeau's hand was in great request. In March, 1510, Maximilian received offers of marriage for his second granddaughter from the King of Navarre's son, Henri d'Albret, but this project was nipped in the bud by the jealousy of Isabella's other grandfather, Ferdinand of Aragon, and Francis I.'s sister, Margaret, Duchess of Alençon, became Queen of Navarre in her stead. A new and strange husband for the nine-year-old Princess was now proposed by the Regent herself. This was none other than Charles of Egmont, Duke of Guelders, the turbulent neighbour who had been a thorn in Margaret's side ever since she became Governess of the Netherlands. It is difficult to believe that Margaret ever really intended to give her beloved niece to the man whom she openly denounced as "a brigand and a felon," but it was necessary to cajole Guelders for the moment, and conferences were held in which every detail of the marriage treaty was discussed, and the dowry and fortune of the bride and the portions of her sons and daughters were all minutely arranged. But when the deputies of Guelders asked that Madame Isabeau should be given up to the Duke at once to be educated at his Court, the Regent met their demands with a flat refusal. The negotiations were broken off, and war began again.[8] Another matrimonial project, which had been discussed ever since King Philip's lifetime, was the union of the Archduchess Eleanor with the young Duke Antoine of Lorraine. Maximilian seems to have been really eager for this marriage, which he regarded as a means of detaching a neighbouring Prince from the French alliance, but was so dilatory in the matter that Margaret wrote him a sharp letter, asking him if he ever meant to marry his granddaughters. Upon this the affronted Emperor rebuked her for these undutiful remarks, and asked peevishly "if she held him for a Frenchman who changed his mind every day."[9] But in spite of these protestations he took no further steps in the matter, and in 1515 Duke Antoine married Renée de Bourbon, a Princess of the blood royal of France.

The marriage of Louis XII. to Henry VIII.'s handsome sister Mary was a more serious blow. Six years before the English Princess had been wedded by proxy to the Archduke Charles, and Margaret, whose heart was set on this alliance, vainly pressed her father to conclude the treaty. Meanwhile, in January, 1514, Anne of Brittany died, and the widowed King sent offers of marriage, first to Margaret herself, and then to her niece Eleanor.[10] A few months later news reached Brussels that Louis had made a treaty with Henry, and was about to wed the Princess Mary. So the Archduke lost his promised bride, and his sister was once more cheated of a husband. The Lady Regent was deeply hurt, but found some consolation for her wounded feelings in the double marriage that was arranged in the course of the same year between the Archduke Ferdinand and Anna, daughter of Ladislaus, King of Hungary, and between this monarch's son Louis and the Archduchess Mary. In May, 1514, the little Princess was sent to be educated with her future sister-in-law at Vienna, where the wedding was celebrated a year afterwards.[11]

At the same time marriage proposals for another of his granddaughters reached Maximilian from a new and unexpected quarter. The young King of Denmark, Christian II., on succeeding to the throne, declined the French marriage which had been arranged for him by his father, and conceived the ambitious design of allying himself with the Imperial Family. In March, 1514, two Danish Ambassadors, the Bishop of Schleswig and the Court-Marshal Magnus Giœ, were introduced into Maximilian's presence by Christian's uncle, the Elector of Saxony, and asked for the Archduchess Eleanor's hand on behalf of their royal master. The prospect of an alliance with Denmark met with the Emperor's approval, and could not fail to be popular in the Low Countries as a means of opening the Baltic to the merchants of Bruges and Amsterdam. Accordingly the envoys met with a friendly reception, and were told that, although the elder Archduchess was already promised to the Duke of Lorraine, the Emperor would gladly give King Christian the hand of her sister Isabella. The contract was signed at Linz on the 29th of April, 1514, and the dowry of the Princess was fixed at 250,000 florins, an enormous sum for those times. Only three-fifths of his sister's fortune, however, was to be paid by Charles, and the remainder by her grandfather, the King of Aragon.[12]

ISABELLA OF AUSTRIA, QUEEN OF DENMARK

By Bernard van Orley (Cardon Collection)

To face p. [12]

June, 1514] A ROYAL WEDDING

From Linz the Ambassadors travelled by slow stages to Brussels, where they were received with great honour. But Margaret was scarcely prepared for the proposal which they made, that the wedding might take place on the following day, when King Christian was to be crowned at Copenhagen. It was, however, impossible to refuse such a request, and on Trinity Sunday, the 11th of June, the marriage was solemnized with due splendour. At ten o'clock a brilliant assembly met in the great hall of the palace, which had been hung for the occasion with the famous tapestries of the Golden Fleece, and Magnus Giœ, who represented the King, appeared, supported by the Duke of Saxe-Lauenburg and the Marquis of Brandenburg. Presently a flourish of trumpets announced the bride's coming, and Charles led in his sister, a tall, slender maiden of thirteen, robed in white, with a crown of pearls and rubies on her fair locks. "Madame Isabeau," as Margaret wrote with motherly pride to her father, "was certainly good to see."[13] They took their places under a baldacchino near the altar, followed by the Regent, who led her niece Eleanor by the hand. The Archbishop of Cambray, clad in rich vestments of purple and gold, performed the nuptial rites, and the Danish Ambassador placed a costly ring, bearing three gold crowns set round with large sapphires and the motto Ave Maria gratia plena, on the finger of the bride, who plighted her faith in the following words:

"Je, Isabelle d'Autriche et de Bourgogne, donne ma foi à très hautt et très puissant Prince et Seigneur, Christierne roy de Danemarck, et à toy Magnus Giœ, son vrai et léal procureur, et je le prens par toy en époux et mari légitime."[14]

Then the Mass of the Holy Ghost was chanted, the Spanish Ambassador being seated at the Archduke's side, and the others according to their rank, all but the English Envoy, who refused to be present owing to a dispute as to precedence. Afterwards the guests were entertained by the Regent at a banquet, followed by a tournament and a state ball, which was kept up far into the night. Finally all the chief personages present escorted the bride with lighted torches to her chamber, and Magnus Giœ, in full armour, lay down on the nuptial bed at her side in the presence of this august company. Then, rising to his feet, he made a deep obeisance to the young Queen and retired. During the next three days a succession of jousts and banquets took place, and on the Feast of Corpus Christi a public reception was held in the palace, at which the bride appeared wearing the ring of the three kingdoms and a jewelled necklace sent her by King Christian. Unfortunately, the Archduke danced so vigorously on the night of the wedding that this unwonted exertion brought on a sharp attack of fever.

"Monseigneur," wrote his aunt to the Emperor, "fulfilled all his duties to perfection, and showed himself so good a brother that he overtaxed his strength, and fell ill the day after the wedding. Not," she hastened to add, "that his sickness is in any way serious, but that the slightest ailment in a Prince of his condition is apt to make one anxious."[15]

Aug., 1515] EVIL OMENS

On the 4th of July the Danish Ambassadors took their leave, but Isabella remained in her home for another year. She and Eleanor shared in the fêtes which celebrated the Archduke's coming of age, and were present at his Joyeuse Entrêe into Brussels. But in the midst of these festivities the Danish fleet, with the Archbishop of Drondtheim on board, arrived at Veeren in Zeeland, and on the 16th of July, 1515, the poor young Queen took leave of her family with bitter tears, and sailed for Copenhagen. On the day of Isabella's christening, fourteen years before, the ceremony had been marred by a terrific thunderstorm, and now the same ill-luck attended her wedding journey. A violent tempest scattered the Danish fleet off the shores of Jutland, and the vessel which bore the Queen narrowly escaped shipwreck. When at length she had landed safely at Helsingfors, she wrote a touching little letter to the Regent:

"Madame, my Aunt and good Mother,

"I must tell you that we landed here last Saturday, after having been in great peril and distress at sea for the last ten days. But God kept me from harm, for which I am very thankful. Next Thursday we start for Copenhagen, which is a day's journey from here. I have been rather ill, and feel weak still, but hope soon to be well. Madame, if I could choose for myself I should be with you now; for to be parted from you is the most grievous thing in the world to me, and the more so as I do not know when there is any hope of seeing you again. So I can only beg you, my dearest aunt and mother, to keep me in your heart, and tell me if there is anything that you wish me to do, and you shall always be obeyed, God helping me. That He may give you a long and happy life is the prayer of your humble and dutiful niece

Isabeau.[16]
"August 7, 1515."

Two days later Isabella continued her journey to Hvidore, the royal country-house near Copenhagen. There she was received by King Christian, who rode at her side, a splendid figure in gold brocade and shining armour, when on the following day she made her state entry into the capital in torrents of rain. On the 12th of August the wedding was celebrated in the great hall of the ancient castle, which had been rebuilt by King Christian's father, and was followed by the coronation of the young Queen. But Isabella was so much exhausted by the fatigue which she had undergone, that before the conclusion of the ceremony she fell fainting into the arms of her ladies. Her illness threw a gloom over the wedding festivities, and seemed a forecast of the misfortunes that were to darken the course of her married life and turn her story into a grim tragedy.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] L. Gachard, "Voyages des Souverains des Pays-Bas." i. 455.

[2] "Bulletins de la Commission Royale d'Histoire," 2^ième série, v. 113-119. Jehan Le Maire, "Les Funéraux de Feu Don Philippe."

[3] E. Le Glay, "Correspondance de l'Empereur Maximilien I. et de Marguerite d'Autriche," i. 203.

[4] Le Glay, i. 393.

[5] Le Glay, i. 241.

[6] Calendar of State Papers, Henry VIII., i. 369.

[7] Le Glay, i. 165.

[8] Le Glay, i. 281, 399-441.

[9] Le Glay, ii. 205.

[10] H. Ulmann, "Kaiser Maximilian," ii. 484, 498.

[11] Le Glay, ii. 252; A. Henne, "Histoire du Règne de Charles V.," i. 96.

[12] Le Glay, ii. 383.

[13] Le Glay, ii. 256.

[14] J. Altmeyer, "Isabelle d'Autriche," 53.

[15] Le Glay, ii. 257.

[16] Altmeyer, "Isabelle d'Autriche," 43.

BOOK II
CHRISTIAN II., KING OF DENMARK, THE FATHER OF CHRISTINA
1513-1523

I.

Christian II., King of Denmark, Sweden, and Norway, as the proud title ran, was in many respects a remarkable man. His life and character have been the subject of much controversy. Some historians have held him up to admiration as a patriot and martyr who suffered for his love of freedom and justice. Others have condemned him as a cruel and vindictive tyrant, whose crimes deserved the hard fate which befell him. Both verdicts are justified in the main. On the one hand, he was an able and enlightened ruler, who protected the liberties of his poorer subjects, encouraged trade and learning, and introduced many salutary reforms. On the other, he was a man of violent passions, crafty and unscrupulous in his dealings, cruel and bloodthirsty in avenging wrongs. His career naturally invites comparison with that of Lodovico Sforza, whose son became the husband of his daughter Christina. Both Princes were men of great ability and splendid dreams. In their zeal for the promotion of commerce and agriculture, in their love of art and letters, both were in advance of the age in which they lived. Again, their vices and crimes, the cunning ways and unscrupulous measures by which they sought to attain their ends, were curiously the same. No doubt Christian II., born and bred as he was among the rude Norsemen, belonged to a coarser strain than the cultured Duke of Milan, and is hardly to be judged by the same standard. But the two Princes resembled each other closely, and the fate which eventually overtook them was practically the same. Both of these able and distinguished men lost their States in the prime of life, and were doomed to end their days in captivity. This cruel doom has atoned in a great measure for their guilt in the eyes of posterity, and even in their lifetime their hard fate aroused general compassion.

Jan., 1516] THE KING'S DOVE

Certainly no one could have foreseen the dismal fate which lay in store for Christian II. when he ascended the throne. Seldom has a new reign opened with fairer promise. His father, good King Hans, died in 1513, lamented by all his subjects, and leaving his successor a prosperous and united kingdom. Christian was thirty-two, and had already shown his courage and ability in quelling a revolt in Norway. A man of noble and commanding presence, with blue eyes and long fair hair, he seemed a born leader of men, while his keen intelligence, genial manners, and human interest in those about him, early won the affection of his subjects. Unfortunately his own passions proved his worst enemies. In Norway he had fallen in love with a beautiful girl named Dyveke—the Dove—whose mother, a designing Dutchwoman named Sigebritt Willems, kept a tavern at Bergen. On his accession he brought Dyveke and her mother to Hvidore, and gave them a house in the neighbourhood. This illicit connection excited great scandal at Court, and the Chancellor, Archbishop Walkendorf of Drondtheim, exhorted the King earnestly to put away his mistress on his marriage. Even before Isabella left Brussels, the Archbishop wrote glowing accounts of her beauty and goodness to his master, and told the King of the romantic attachment which she cherished for her unknown lord. After her arrival at Copenhagen he did his utmost to insure her comfort, and see that she was treated with proper respect.

For a time Christian seems to have been genuinely in love with his young wife, whose innocent charm won all hearts in her new home. In his anxiety to please her, he furnished his ancestral castle anew, and sent to Germany for musicians, fearing that the rude voices of Danish singers might sound harsh in her ears. A young Fleming, Cornelius Scepperus, was appointed to be his private secretary, and the Fuggers of Antwerp were invited to found a bank at Copenhagen. At the same time twenty-four Dutch families, from Waterland in Holland, were brought over in Danish ships, and induced to settle on the island of Amager, opposite the capital, in order that the royal table might be supplied with butter and cheese made in the Dutch fashion. This colony, imported by Christian II., grew and flourished, and to this day their descendants occupy Amager, where peasant women clad in the national costume of short woollen skirts, blue caps, and red ribbons, are still to be seen. Unfortunately, the influence which Sigebritt and her daughter had acquired over the King was too strong to be resisted. Before long they returned to Court, and, to the indignation of Isabella's servants, Sigebritt was appointed Mistress of her household. Rumours of the slights to which the young Queen was exposed soon reached the Netherlands, and when Maximilian informed Margaret that he intended to marry her niece Eleanor to the King of Poland, she replied with some asperity that she could only hope the marriage would turn out better than that of her unhappy sister. The Emperor expressed much surprise at these words, saying that he considered his granddaughter to be very well married, since the King of Denmark was a monarch of the proudest lineage, and endowed with noble manners and rare gifts, if his people were still somewhat rude and barbarous.[17] But, in spite of Maximilian's protests, the reports of King Christian's misconduct soon became too persistent to be ignored. When, in October, 1516, Charles, who had assumed the title of King of Spain on his grandfather Ferdinand's death, held his first Chapter of the Golden Fleece, the Knights with one accord refused to admit the King of Denmark to their Order, because he was accused of adultery and ill-treated his wife.[18] At length Maximilian was moved to take action, and wrote to his grandson Charles in sufficiently plain language, saying:

1513-23] ELEANOR'S ROMANCE

"The shameful life which our brother and son-in-law, the King of Denmark, is leading with a concubine, to the great sorrow and vexation of his wife, our daughter and your sister, is condemned by all his relatives; and in order to constrain him to abandon this disorderly way of living, and be a better husband to our said daughter, we are sending Messire Sigismund Herbesteiner to remonstrate with him, and have begged Duke Frederic of Saxony, his uncle, who arranged the marriage, to send one of his servants on the same errand. And we desire you to send one of your chief councillors to help carry out our orders, and induce the King to put away his concubine and behave in a more reasonable and honourable manner."[19]

But none of these remonstrances produced any effect on the misguided King. When Herbesteiner reproached him with sacrificing the laws of God and honour and the Emperor's friendship to a low-born woman, he shook his fist in the imperial Envoy's face, and bade him begone from his presence.[20] At the same time he showed his resentment in a more dangerous way by making a treaty with France and closing the Sound to Dutch ships. He even seized several trading vessels on pretence that the Queen's dowry had not been paid, and when Archbishop Walkendorf ventured to expostulate with him on his misconduct, banished the prelate from Court.[21]

Meanwhile Isabella herself bore neglect and insults with the same uncomplaining sweetness. But we see how much she suffered from a private letter which she wrote to her sister Eleanor about this time. This attractive Princess, who at the age of eighteen still remained unmarried, had fallen in love with her brother's brilliant friend, Frederic, Count Palatine, the most accomplished knight at Court, and the idol of all the ladies. The mutual attachment between the Palatine and the Archduchess was the talk of the whole Court, and met with Margaret's private approval, although it was kept a secret from Charles and his Ministers. Eleanor confided this romantic story to her absent sister, and expressed a secret hope that the popular Count Palatine might succeed her aunt as Regent when the young King left Brussels for Spain. In reply Isabella sent Eleanor the warmest congratulations on her intended marriage, rejoicing that her sister at least would not be forced to leave home, and would be united to a husband whom she really loved. The poor young Queen proceeded to lament her own sad fate in the following strain:

"It is hard enough to marry a man whose face you have never seen, whom you do not know or love, and worse still to be required to leave home and kindred, and follow a stranger to the ends of the earth, without even being able to speak his language."[22]

1513-23] A LOVE-LETTER

She goes on to describe the misery of her life, even though she bears the title of Queen. What is she, in fact, but a prisoner in a foreign land? She is never allowed to go out or appear in public, while her lord the King spends his time in royal progresses and hunting-parties, and amuses himself after his fashion, apart from her. Far better would it be for Eleanor to follow her own inclination, and choose a husband who belongs to her own country and speaks her language, even if he were not of kingly rank. Unfortunately, the pretty romance which excited Isabella's sympathy was doomed to an untimely end. The death of Mary of Castille, Queen of Portugal, in May, 1517, left King Emanuel a widower for the second time. He had married two of Charles's aunts in turn, and was now over fifty, and a hunchback into the bargain. None the less, the plan of a marriage between him and his niece Eleanor was now revived, and in August these proposals reached the young King at the seaport of Middelburg, where he and his sister were awaiting a favourable wind to set sail for Spain. Filled with alarm, Frederic implored Eleanor to take a bold step, confess her love to Charles, and seek his consent to her marriage with his old friend. In a letter signed with his name, and still preserved in the Archives of Simancas, the Palatine begged his love to lose no time if she would escape from the snare laid for them both by "the Uncle of Portugal."

"Ma mignonne," he wrote, "si vous voulez, vous pouvez être la cause de mon bien ou de mon mal. C'est pourquoi je vous supplie d'avoir bon courage pour vous et pour moi. Cela peut se faire si vous voulez. Car je suis prêt, et ne demande autre chose, sinon que je sois à vous, et vous à moi."[23]

Accordingly, on the Feast of the Assumption Eleanor approached her brother after hearing Mass in the abbey chapel. But while she was gathering all her courage to speak, Charles caught sight of the Palatine's letter in her bosom, and, snatching it from his sister's hands, broke into furious reproaches, swearing that he would avenge this insult with the traitor's blood. As Spinelli, the English Envoy, remarked, "The letter was but honest, concerning matters of love and marriage,"[24] but the young King would listen to no excuses, and, in spite of the Regent's intervention, Frederic was banished from Court in disgrace. A fortnight later Charles and his sister sailed for Castille, and in the following summer Madame Leonore became the bride of "l'Oncle de Portugal," King Emanuel.

II.

The death of Christian II.'s mistress, Dyveke, in the summer of 1517 produced a change in the situation at Copenhagen. This unfortunate girl, a victim of her ambitious mother's designs, died very suddenly one afternoon after eating cherries in the royal gardens. The King's suspicions fell on his steward, Torben Axe, who was brutally put to death in spite of his protestations of innocence. But the Queen's position was distinctly improved. Christian now treated his wife with marked kindness, and appointed her Regent when, early in the following year, he went to Sweden to put down a rising of the nobles. Sigebritt Willems's influence, however, still remained paramount, and, in a letter to the Queen from Sweden, Christian begged her to consult the Dutchwoman in any difficulty, and ended by wishing her and "Mother Sigebritt" a thousand good-nights. Stranger still to relate, when, on the 21st of February, Isabella gave birth to a son, the infant Prince was entrusted to Sigebritt's care.

1513-23] BIRTH OF PRINCES

This happy event, combined with Isabella's unfailing affection for her wayward lord, led to improved relations between Christian and his wife's family. After the death of Maximilian, Charles became anxious to secure his brother-in-law's support in the imperial election, and in February, 1519, a treaty was concluded between the two monarchs at Brussels.[25] The Danish Envoys, Anton de Metz and Hermann Willems, Sigebritt's brother, received rich presents from Margaret, who was once more acting as Regent of the Netherlands, and she even sent a silver-gilt cup to the hated Dutchwoman herself.[26] A month later the King of Denmark was elected Knight of the Golden Fleece at a Chapter of the Order held at Barcelona, and in a letter which Charles addressed to him he expressed his pleasure at hearing good accounts of his sister and little nephew, and promised to pay the arrears of Isabella's dowry as soon as possible.[27]

On the 28th of June, 1519, Charles was elected King of the Romans, and the formal announcement of his election was brought to Barcelona by Eleanor's rejected suitor, the Palatine Frederic, whom he received with open arms. A few days after this auspicious event the Queen of Denmark, on the 4th of July, 1519, gave birth to twin sons, who received the names of Philip and Maximilian. Both, however, died within a week of their baptism, upon which Sigebritt is said to have remarked that this was a good thing, since Denmark was too small a realm to support so many Princes.

With the help of Dutch ships and gold, Christian succeeded in subduing the Swedish rebels, and was crowned with great solemnity in the Cathedral of Upsala on the 4th of November, 1520. But the rejoicings on this occasion were marred by the execution of ninety Swedish nobles and two Bishops, who were treacherously put to death by the King's orders. This act, which earned for Christian the title of the Nero of the North, is said to have been instigated by Sigebritt and her nephew Slagbök, a Westphalian barber, who had been raised from this low estate to be Archbishop of Lunden. The insolent conduct of these evil counsellors naturally increased the King's unpopularity in all parts of the kingdom. Yet at the same time Christian II. showed himself to be an excellent and enlightened ruler. He administered justice strictly, and introduced many salutary reforms.

1513-23] BIRTH OF DOROTHEA

The common practice of buying and selling serfs was prohibited, Burgomasters and Town Councils were appointed to carry out the laws, and a system of tolls and customs was established. Schools and hospitals were founded, inns were opened in every town and village for the convenience of travellers, piracy and brigandage were sternly repressed. An Act was passed ordering that all cargoes recovered from wrecks were to be placed in the nearest church, and, if not claimed by the end of the year, divided between the Crown and the Church. When the Bishops complained of the loss thus inflicted on them, the King told them to go home and learn the Eighth Commandment. Still greater was the opposition aroused when he attempted to reform clerical abuses. Early in life Christian showed strong leanings towards the doctrines of Luther, and on his return from Sweden he asked his uncle, the Elector of Saxony, to send him a Lutheran preacher from Wittenberg. Although these efforts at proselytizing met with little success, the King openly professed his sympathy with the new Gospel. He had the Bible translated into Danish, bade the Bishops dismiss their vast households, issued edicts allowing priests to marry, and ordered the begging friars to stay at home and earn their bread by honest labour.[28]

All these reforms could not be effected without vigorous opposition, and the discontent among the nobles and clergy became every day more active. In the spring of 1521 a young Swedish noble, Gustavus Wasa, raised the standard of revolt in Dalecarlia, and led his peasant bands against Stockholm. Upon this Christian decided to pay a visit to the Low Countries to meet the new Emperor, who was coming to be crowned at Aix-la-Chapelle, and seek his help against the citizens of Lübeck and the Swedish rebels. The government was once more placed in the hands of Isabella. A few months before this, on the 10th of November, 1520, while Christian was absent in Sweden, the Queen had given birth to a daughter, named Dorothea after the King's grandmother, the able and ambitious Princess of Brandenburg, who married two Kings of Denmark in succession. Now she followed her husband with wistful thoughts as he started on his journey, attended only by his Chamberlain, Anton de Metz, and three servants, and rode all the way to her old home in the Netherlands.

On the 20th of June nine Danish ships sailed into the port of Antwerp, and a few days afterwards Christian II. rode into the town. His fine presence and the courage which he had shown in riding through Germany with this small escort excited general admiration.

"I noted," wrote Albert Dürer in his Journal, "how much the people of Antwerp marvelled at the sight of this manly and handsome Prince, who had come hither through his enemies' country, with these few attendants."[29]

1513-23] KING CHRISTIAN AT BRUSSELS

The Nuremberg master had been spending the winter in the Low Countries, paying his respects to the Regent at Malines, and conversing with Erasmus of Rotterdam and Lucas van Leyden. He was starting on his journey home, when, on the Feast of the Visitation, he was sent for by the King of Denmark, who received him very graciously, and asked him to dine at his table and to take his portrait. So great was the interest which Christian showed in the painter's work, that Dürer gave him a fine set of his prints, which are still preserved in the museum at Copenhagen, and accepted an invitation to accompany him to Brussels the next day. Thus Albert Dürer was a witness of the meeting between Christian and his brother-in-law Charles V., who had just arrived from his coronation at Aix-la-Chapelle, and had been received with great rejoicing by his subjects. At five that summer evening Charles rode out from Brussels at the head of a brilliant cavalcade, and met his royal brother-in-law in a meadow, where they embraced each other and conversed with the help of an interpreter, Christian speaking in German, and Charles in French. They entered Brussels after sunset, and found the streets hung with tapestries and lighted with innumerable torches and bonfires. The Emperor escorted Christian to the Count of Nassau's palace on the top of the hill, which Dürer describes as the finest house that he had ever seen. The next morning Charles brought his guest to the palace gates, where the Regent and Germaine de Foix, King Ferdinand's widow, were awaiting them, and for the first time Margaret came face to face with her niece's husband. Christian kissed the two ladies in French fashion, and after dinner the two Princes spent the evening dancing with the Court ladies.

"Now," wrote the Venetian Ambassador, Gaspare Contarini, "at two hours after dark, they are still dancing, for young monarchs such as these are not easily tired."[30]

The impression which the Danish King made on the learned Italian was very favourable. He describes him as a fine-looking Prince, with an earnest, animated expression, long locks, and a beard curled after the Italian fashion. In his black satin doublet, Spanish cloak, and jewelled cap, he looked every inch a King. On the Sunday after his arrival Christian entertained the Emperor, the Lady Margaret, and the Queen-Dowager of Spain, at dinner. Albert Dürer was present on this occasion, and was afterwards employed to paint a portrait of the King in oils, for which Christian gave him thirty florins, an act of liberality which contrasted favourably with Margaret's parsimony. "The Lady Margaret in particular," remarks the painter in his Journal, "gave me nothing for what I made and presented to her." Another personage in whose society the King took pleasure was Erasmus, who discussed the reform of the Church with him, and was much struck by the monarch's enlightened opinions. On the 12th of July Christian accompanied his brother-in-law to Antwerp, to lay the foundations of the new choir of Our Lady's Church, and went on to Ghent, where he paid formal homage for the duchy of Holstein, and was confirmed in his rights over the Hanse towns, but could not persuade Charles to join him in making war on the friendly citizens of Lübeck. At Ghent the King sent for the English Ambassador, Sir Robert Wingfield, with whom he had a long and friendly conversation, expressing great anxiety to meet King Henry VIII. In reply, Wingfield told him that he would soon have the opportunity of seeing the English monarch's powerful Minister, Cardinal Wolsey, to whom he could speak as frankly as to the King himself.[31] Accordingly, on the 5th of August Christian accompanied Charles and Margaret to the Prinzenhof at Bruges, where Wolsey joined them a week later. The regal state of the English Cardinal formed a striking contrast to the King's simplicity. He arrived with a train of over a thousand followers, clad in red satin, and twenty English nobles, wearing gold chains, walked at his horse's side. On Sunday he rode to Mass with the Emperor, and dined with Charles and Margaret, "praising the delicate and sumptuous manner" in which he was entertained. When the King of Denmark sent to ask him to come to his lodgings, the Cardinal demurred, saying that, as he represented His Majesty of England, the King must be the first to visit him, but that if Christian preferred he would meet him in the palace garden. Christian, however, waived ceremony, and called on Wolsey the next morning. The interview was a very friendly one. Christian expressed his anxiety to enter into a close alliance with England, and begged King Henry to be a good uncle to his young kinsman, James V. of Scotland. Wolsey on his part was much impressed by the King's good sense and peaceable intentions.

1513-23] REVOLT IN DENMARK

"Surely, Sir," he wrote to his royal master, "the King of Denmark, though in appearance he should be judged to be a rash man, yet he is right wise, sober, and discreet, minding the establishing of good peace betwixt Christian Princes, wherein he right substantially declared his mind to me at good length."[32]

CHRISTIAN II., KING OF DENMARK

To face p. [30]

But the next day the King sent the Cardinal word that he had received such bad news from his own country that he must return without delay. He actually left Bruges that day, and was escorted to the city gates by the Papal Nuncio Caracciolo and Contarini, who took leave of the King, and returned to dine with Erasmus and his English friend, Messer Toma Moro.[33] Unfortunately, Christian's visit to the Low Countries produced no good result, and there was some justification for the Imperial Chancellor's cynical remark: "It would have been better to keep the King here, where he can do no harm, than to let him go home to make fresh mischief."[34] He left Bruges dissatisfied with the Emperor, and on reaching Copenhagen his first act was to dismiss the Queen's confessor, Mansueri. When the Emperor begged him to leave his sister free in matters of conscience, he broke into a passionate fit of rage, tore the Golden Fleece from his neck, and trampled it underfoot, cursing his meddlesome brother-in-law. What was worse, he seized several Dutch ships in the Sound, and drew upon himself the serious displeasure of the Regent and her Council.

Meanwhile Gustavus Wasa had laid siege to Stockholm, and there was a rising in Jutland. A Papal Legate arrived at Copenhagen to inquire into the judicial murder of the Swedish Bishops and demand the punishment of Slagbök. The unfortunate Archbishop was made a scapegoat, and put to death in January, 1522. Stones were thrown at Sigebritt when she drove out in the royal carriage, and one day she was thrown into a pond by some peasants, and only rescued with difficulty. Even Christian began to realize the danger of the situation, and wrote to Isabella from Jutland, begging her to "bid Mother Sigebritt hold her tongue, and not set foot outside the castle, if she wished him to return home alive." In another letter, written on the 4th of February, 1522, from the Convent of Dalin, the King congratulates his wife on her safe deliverance, and the birth of "a marvellously handsome child."[35] This is the only intimation we have of the birth of Isabella's second daughter, Christina. The exact date is not to be found in the Danish archives, and has hitherto eluded all research. The child who saw the light in these troubled times received the name of Christina from her grandmother, the Queen-Dowager of Denmark, a Princess of Saxon birth, who still resided at King Hans's favourite palace of Odensee. All we know of Queen Christina is that, on the 2nd of April, 1515, two years after her husband's death, she addressed an urgent prayer to King Henry VIII., begging him to send her a relic of St. Thomas of Canterbury.[36] We are not told if a phial containing a drop of the saint's blood was sent to Denmark in response to this entreaty, but the request is of interest as a proof of the English martyr's widespread renown.

A few weeks after the birth of her little daughter Isabella wrote a touching appeal to her aunt, imploring the Regent's help against the Danish rebels:

1513-23] CHRISTIAN II. DEPOSED

"We have sad news from my lord in Jutland. The nobles there have rebelled against him, and seek to deprive him and our children of their crown and their lives. So we entreat you to come to our help, that we may chastise these rebels."[37]

Anton de Metz was sent to Brussels on the same errand, but could obtain small hopes of assistance. The Regent's Council complained that King Christian had damaged the trade of the Low Countries and ill-treated their sailors, and the temper of the Court was reflected in Sir Robert Wingfield's despatches to England.

"The Easterlings," remarked the Ambassador, "handle the King of Denmark roughly, and his own people are said to have killed the Woman of Holland, who was mother to his Dove, as the King's mistress was called, whereby it appeareth that ill life and like governance often cometh to a bad end."[38]

King Christian's affairs, as Wingfield truly said, were in an evil plight. In June Stockholm surrendered to Gustavus Wasa, and the citizens of Lübeck sent a fleet to burn Helsingfors and threaten Copenhagen. To add to the unfortunate King's difficulties, his uncle Frederic, Duke of Holstein, who had always nursed a grievance against his elder brother, the late King Hans, now took up a hostile attitude, and made common cause with the rebels. On the 20th of January, 1523, the nobles of Jutland met at Viborg, deposed Christian II. formally, and elected his uncle Frederic to be King in his stead. In vain Christian endeavoured to raise fresh forces, and sent desperate appeals to his kinsfolk in the Low Countries and Germany, and to his allies in England and Scotland.

Margaret replied curtly that the Emperor himself needed all the men and ammunition that could be obtained in those parts. The young King of Scotland's Chancellor, the Archbishop of Glasgow, sent a sympathetic message, regretting that the enmity of England prevented him from helping King Christian against his rebel subjects. When the Dean of Roskild appeared in London with a letter from the Danish monarch, begging King Henry to induce Margaret to help him against the Easterlings, Wolsey sent a splendid barge to conduct the Ambassador to Greenwich, but gave him little encouragement beyond fair words. "So I hope," wrote Sir Robert Wingfield, who, in spite of Christian's civilities at Ghent, had little pity for him, "that this wicked King will fail."[39]

1513-23] FLIGHT OF THE ROYAL FAMILY

The unhappy monarch was at his wits' end. Yet many of his subjects were still loyal. The bulk of the middle and lower classes, the burghers, artisans, and country-folk, looked on him as their best friend; and when he appeared at the fair of Ringsted, a thousand strong arms were raised, and a thousand lusty voices swore fealty to Christian, the peasants' King. Copenhagen was strongly fortified, and as long as he stayed there he was safe from his foes. But an unaccountable panic seized him. Whether, as in the case of Lodovico Sforza, whom he resembled in so many ways, remorse for past crimes enfeebled his will, or whether his nerves gave way, he could not summon up courage to meet his foes, and decided to fly. A fleet of twenty ships was equipped, fully supplied with arms and ammunition, and laden with the crown jewels, archives, and treasures. The Queen and her young children—the five-year-old Prince John, the two little Princesses, Dorothea and Christina (a babe of fifteen months)—went on board the finest vessel of the fleet, the Great Mary, and Mother Sigebritt was hidden in a chest to save her from the fury of the people, who regarded her as the chief cause of the King's unpopularity. But the greatest compassion was felt for Isabella and her innocent babes; and even the usurper Frederic wrote to beg the Queen to remain in Denmark, assuring her that she and her children would be perfectly safe. On the 14th of April the fleet set sail. An immense crowd assembled on the ramparts to see the last of the royal family. The King made a farewell speech, exhorting the garrison to remain loyal to his cause, and promising to return in three months with reinforcements. Then the ships weighed anchor, and neither Isabella nor her children ever saw the shores of Denmark again.

FOOTNOTES:

[17] Le Glay, ii. 336.

[18] De Reiffenberg, "Histoire de l'Ordre de la Toison d'Or," 307.

[19] Le Glay, ii. 337.

[20] L. Van Bergh, "Correspondance de M. d'Autriche," ii. 135.

[21] Ulmann, ii. 510.

[22] Hubertus Leodius Thomas, "Spiegel des Humors grosser Potentaten," 79. E. Moeller, "Éléonore d'Autriche," 307.

[23] Moeller, 327. L. Mignet, "Rivalité de Francis I. et Charles V.," i. 140.

[24] Calendar of State Papers, Henry VIII., ii. 2, 1151. H. Baumgarten, "Geschichte Karl V.," i. 58.

[25] Henne. ii. 249.

[26] Archives du Royaume: Bruxelles Régistre des Revenus et Dépenses de Charles V., ii. 72.

[27] J. Altmeyer, 46.

[28] F. Dahlmann, "Geschichte von Dänemark," iii. 359.

[29] M. Conway, "Literary Remains of Albert Dürer," 124.

[30] Venetian State Papers, iii. 139.

[31] Calendar of State Papers, Henry VIII., iii. 2, 555, 561, 582.

[32] Calendar of State Papers, Henry VIII., iii. 2, 614.

[33] Venetian State Papers, iii. 162.

[34] Calendar of State Papers, Henry VIII., iii. 2, 576.

[35] Altmeyer, 23. Reedtz Manuscripts, xiii. 28.

[36] Calendar of State Papers, Henry VIII., ii. 191.

[37] Altmeyer, "Isabelle d'Autriche," 23.

[38] Calendar of State Papers, Henry VIII., iii. 2, 1086.

[39] Calendar of State Papers, Henry VIII., iii. 2, 1189. Altmeyer, "Relations Commerciales du Danemark et des Paysbas," 105.

BOOK III
KINGS IN EXILE
1523-1531

I.

1523-31] VISIT TO LONDON

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.

"For," as Henry himself wrote to the Emperor, "this perfidy of the King's subjects is a most fatal example, if for the most trifling cause a Prince is to be called in question, and expelled and put from his crown."[42]

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.

"Your Majesty," wrote the Ambassador, "ought first of all to have the Woman of Holland sought out and punished, an act which in my small opinion would acquire great merit in the eyes of both God and man."[43]

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]

1523-31] A NOBLE WIFE

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.

"Everyone here," wrote Hannart, the minister whom Charles V. had sent to his sister's help, "is full of compassion for the Queen, but no one places the least trust in the King. If it were not for her sake, not a single man would saddle a horse on his behalf."

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.

"I am always afraid some harm may happen to you when I am away," she wrote to her husband. "I long to join you, and would rather suffer at your side than live in comfort away from you."[47]

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.

1523-31] MARTIN LUTHER

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.

"Strange indeed are the ways of God!" he wrote to Spalatin. "His grace penetrates into the most unlikely places, and may even bring this rare wild game, a King and Queen, safely into the heavenly net."[49]

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.

"I hear on all sides," he wrote to Charles, "that the people of Denmark would gladly welcome the return of the Queen and her children if the King would not meddle with public affairs, and a good Governor appointed by Your Majesty should act as Regent until the young Prince is of age."[50]

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.

1523-31] THE CHILDREN OF DENMARK

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.

"Prince John," wrote Nicolas Petri, Canon of Lunden, "learns quickly, and begins to speak French. He is already a great favourite with the Lady Margaret. His sisters, the Princesses, are very well, and are both very pretty children. The youngest, Madame Christine, has just been weaned. Madame Marguerite says that she will soon be receiving proposals of marriage for the elder one. These are good omens, for which God be praised. It is a real pleasure to be with these children, they are so good and charming. If only Your Grace could see them, you would soon forget all your troubles."[51]

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]

1523-31] A ZEALOUS LUTHERAN

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.

"Dear Brother in Christ," he wrote,

"Here we forget Christ, and have no one to preach the word of God. I implore you to come and give us the comfort of the Gospel. Greet our brothers and sisters."

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:

1523-31] DEATH OF ISABELLA

"As her weakness increased, Frau Margaret sent her servant, Philippe de Souvastre, and other excellent persons, to admonish her after the fashion of the Popish Anti-Christ's faith and the religion of his sect. But Almighty God in His mercy deprived my wife of her powers of speech, so that she made no reply, and they gave up speaking, and only anointed her with oil. But before this she had received the Blessed Sacrament in the most devout manner, with ardent longing, firm faith, and stedfast courage; and when one of our preachers exhorted her, in the words of the Gospel, to stand fast in the faith, she confessed her firm trust in God, and paid no heed to the superstitious mutterings of the others. After this she became speechless, but gave many signs of true faith to the end, and took her last farewell of this world on the 19th of January. May God Almighty be gracious to her soul, and grant her eternal rest! We are strong in the sure and certain hope that she has entered into eternal bliss, unto which God bring us all!"[54]

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:

"Of such Kings' daughters there was indeed one, of the noblest birth, Isabella, Queen of Denmark, a Princess of the royal house of Spain. She embraced the Gospel with great ardour, and confessed the faith openly. And because of this she died in want and misery. For had she consented to renounce her faith, she would have received far more help and much greater kindness in this life."[56]

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]

1523-31] MARGARET INTERVENES

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.

1523-31] THE PALACE OF MALINES

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.

1523-31] MABUSE'S PICTURE

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.

1523-31] A PROMISING PRINCE

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.

Copyright, H. M. the King

THE CHILDREN OF CHRISTIAN II., KING OF DENMARK

By Jean Mabuse (Hampton Court Palace)

To face p. [54]

"Madame my good Aunt," he wrote,

"I hear with great pleasure of the kindness shown by M. de Brégilles, the Master of your Household, to my nephew, the Prince of Denmark, and am very grateful to him for teaching the boy to ride and mounting him so well. And you will please tell Brégilles that I beg him to go on from good to better, and train the boy in all honest and manly exercises, as well as in noble and virtuous conduct, for you know that he is likely to follow whatever example is set before him in his youth. And I have no doubt that, not only in this case, but in all others, you will not cease to watch over him.

"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]

1523-31] DEATH OF MARGARET

Suddenly a new turn in the tide altered the whole aspect of affairs. On the 3rd of August, 1529, the Peace of Cambray was finally concluded. The long war, which had drained the Emperor's resources, was at an end, and his hands were once more free. Christian lost no time in taking advantage of this opportunity to secure his powerful kinsman's help. He addressed urgent petitions to the Emperor and King Ferdinand, and sent an Envoy to plead his cause at Bologna, where on the 24th of February, 1530, Charles V. received the imperial crown from the hands of Pope Clement VII. But the only condition on which the exiled monarch could be admitted into the new confederation was his return to the Catholic Church. For this, too, Christian seems to have been prepared. On the 2nd of February he signed an agreement at Lierre, in which he promised to obey the Emperor's wishes, and to hold fast the Catholic faith, if he should be restored to the throne of Denmark. When Charles crossed the Brenner, Christian hastened to meet him at Innsbruck, and, throwing himself at the foot of Cardinal Campeggio, craved the Holy Father's pardon for his past errors, and received absolution. But, in spite of this public recantation, the King still secretly preferred the reformed faith, and continued to correspond with his Lutheran friends. On the 25th of June he arrived at Malines with letters of credit for 24,000 florins, which he had received from the Emperor as the price of his submission. But the Council refused to give him a farthing without the Regent's consent, and Margaret declined to see him, pleading illness as her excuse. Although only fifty years of age, she had long been in failing health, and only awaited the Emperor's coming to lay down her arduous office and retire to a convent at Bruges. An unforeseen accident hastened her end. She hurt her foot by treading on the broken pieces of a crystal goblet, blood-poisoning came on, and she died in her sleep on the 30th of November, without ever seeing her nephew again. The touching letter in which she bade him farewell was written a few hours before her death:

"Monseigneur,

"The hour has come when I can no longer write with my own hand, for I am so dangerously ill that I fear my remaining hours will be few. But my conscience is tranquil, and I am ready to accept God's will, and have no regrets saving that I am deprived of your presence, and am unable to see you and speak with you before I die.... I leave you your provinces, greatly increased in extent since your departure, and resign the government, which I trust I have discharged in such a way as to merit a Divine reward, and earn the good-will of your subjects as well as your approval. And above all, Monseigneur, I recommend you to live at peace, more especially with the Kings of France and England. Finally I beg of you, by the love which you have been pleased to bear me, remember the salvation of my soul and my recommendations on behalf of my poor servants. And so I bid you once more farewell, praying, Monseigneur, that you may enjoy a long life and great prosperity.

"Your very humble aunt,
"Margaret."[65]

"From Malines the last day of November, 1530."

This letter reached the Emperor at Cologne together with the news of Margaret's death, and a solemn requiem was chanted for her soul in the cathedral. Charles and his subjects fully realized the great loss which his pays de par-deça had suffered by his aunt's death.

"All the provinces," said Cornelius Agrippa, in the funeral oration which he pronounced in S. Rombaut of Malines, "all the cities, and all the villages, are plunged in tears and sorrow. For no greater loss could have befallen us and our country."

1523-31] MARY OF HUNGARY

The young Prince of Denmark, whom Margaret had loved so well, was chief mourner on this occasion, and rode at the head of the procession which bore her remains to Bruges. Here they were laid in the Convent of the Annunciation until the magnificent shrine that she had begun at Brou in Savoy was ready to receive her ashes and those of her husband. When, in the following March, the Emperor came to Malines, Prince John welcomed him in a Latin speech, in which he made a pathetic allusion to the loss which he and his sisters had sustained in the death of one who had been to them the wisest and tenderest of mothers. Then, turning to his uncle with charming grace, he begged the Emperor to have compassion upon him and his orphaned sisters, and allow them to remain at his Court until their father should be restored to his rightful throne. The young Prince's simple eloquence produced a deep impression. The Emperor with tears in his eyes embraced him, and the magistrates of Malines presented him with a barrel of Rhenish wine in token of their regard.[66]

Fortunately for the children of Denmark, as well as for the provinces which Margaret had ruled so well, another Habsburg Princess was found to take her place. This was the Emperor's sister Mary, whose gallant husband, King Louis of Hungary, had fallen on the field of Mohacz four years before, fighting against the Turks. The widowed Queen, although only twenty-one, had shown admirable presence of mind, and it was largely due to her tact and popularity that her brother Ferdinand and his wife Anna, the dead King's sister, were recognized as joint Sovereigns of Bohemia and Hungary. Her own hand was sought in marriage by many Princes, including the young King James V. of Scotland and her sister Eleanor's old lover, the Palatine Frederic, whose romantic imagination was deeply impressed by the young Queen's heroic bearing. But Mary positively refused to take another husband, saying that, having found perfect happiness in her first marriage, she had no wish to try a second. To the end of her life she remained true to her dead lord, and never put off her widow's weeds. But her courage and spirit were as high as ever. She was passionately fond of hunting, and amazed the hardest riders by being all day in the saddle without showing any trace of fatigue. Her powers of mind were no less remarkable. She was the ablest of the whole family, and the wisdom of her judgments was equalled by the frankness with which she expressed them. Like all the Habsburg ladies, she was highly educated, and spoke Latin as well as any doctor in Louvain, according to Erasmus, who inscribed her name on the first page of his "Veuve Chrétienne." Mary shared her sister Isabella's sympathy with the reformers, and accepted the dedication of Luther's "Commentary on the Four Psalms of Consolation." When this excited her brother Ferdinand's displeasure, she told him that authors must do as they please in these matters, and that he might trust her not to tarnish the fair name of their house. "God," she added, "would doubtless give her grace to die a good Christian."[67]

1523-31] THE NEW REGENT

In the spring of 1530 Mary met Charles at Innsbruck, and accompanied him to Augsburg. When, a few months later, the news of Margaret's death reached him at Cologne, the Emperor begged her to become Regent of the Low Countries and share the burden of government with him. But Mary had no wish to enter public life, and asked her brother's leave to retire to Spain and devote herself to the care of their unhappy mother, Queen Juana. For some time she resisted the entreaties of both her brothers, and it was only a strong sense of duty which finally overcame her reluctance to assume so arduous and ungrateful a task. When at length she consented, she made it a condition that she should not be troubled with offers of marriage, and pointed out that her Lutheran sympathies might well arouse suspicion in the Netherlands. But Charles brushed these objections lightly aside, saying that no one should disturb her peace, and that he should never have trusted her with so important a post if he had regarded her Lutheran tendencies seriously. All he asked was that the Queen should not bring her German servants to the Low Countries, lest they should arouse the jealousy of his Flemish courtiers.

Mary scrupulously fulfilled these conditions, and on the 23rd of January, 1531, the new Regent entered Louvain in state, and was presented to the Council by the Emperor, as Governess of the Netherlands. Two months later she accompanied Charles to Malines, where for the first time she embraced her little nieces. For the present, however, Dorothea and Christina, who were only nine and ten years old, remained at Malines, while Prince John accompanied his uncle and aunt on a progress through the provinces.

Mary soon realized all the difficulties of the task that she had undertaken with so much reluctance.

"The Emperor," she wrote to Ferdinand from Brussels, "has fastened the rope round my neck, but I find public affairs in a great tangle, and if His Majesty does not reduce them to some degree of order before his departure, I shall find myself in a very tight place."[68]

The Treasury was exhausted, the people groaned under the load of taxation, and the prodigal generosity of the late Regent had not succeeded in suppressing strife and jealousy among the nobles. As Mary wrote many years afterwards to her nephew, Philip II.:

"No doubt our aunt, Madame Marguerite, ruled the Netherlands long and well; but when she grew old and ailing she was obliged to leave the task to others, and when the Emperor returned there after her death, he found the nobles at variance, justice little respected, and all classes disaffected to the imperial service."[69]

1523-31] A FORLORN HOPE

But the young Regent brought all her spirit and energy to the task, and with her brother's help succeeded in reforming the gravest abuses and restoring some order into the finances. The gravest difficulty with which she had to contend was the presence of the King of Denmark. Since Margaret's death this monarch had grown bolder and more insolent in his demands. With the help of his old ally, Duke Henry of Brunswick, he collected 6,000 men-at-arms and invaded Holland, spreading fire and sword wherever he went. In vain Charles remonstrated with him on the suffering which he inflicted on peaceable citizens. Christian only replied with an insolent letter, which convinced the Emperor more than ever of "the man's little sense and honesty." He now feared that the King would seize one of the forts in Holland and remain there all the winter, feeding his soldiers at the expense of the unfortunate peasantry, and infecting them with Lutheran heresy. Under these circumstances Charles felt that it was impossible to desert his sister, and decided to put off his departure for Germany until he had got rid of this troublesome guest.

At length, on the 26th of October, Christian sailed from Medemblik, in North Holland, with twenty-five ships and 7,000 men.

"He has done infinite damage to my provinces of Holland and Utrecht," wrote Charles to Ferdinand, "treating them as if they were enemies, and forcing them to provide him with boats and provisions, besides seizing the supplies which I had collected for my own journey."[70]

So great were the straits to which Charles found himself reduced that he was compelled to raise a fresh loan in order to defray the expenses of his journey to Spires. But at least the hated adventurer was gone, and as a fair wind sprang up, and the sails of King Christian's fleet dropped below the horizon, the Emperor and his subjects felt that they could breathe freely.

"The King of Dacia," wrote the Italian traveller Mario Savorgnano, from Brussels, on the 6th of November, "has sailed with twenty big ships, thus relieving this land from a heavy burden. He goes to recover his kingdom of Denmark, a land lying north of the Cymbric Chersonesus.... But I am sure that when the people come face to face with these mercenaries, especially those who have been in Italy and have there learnt to rob, sack, burn, and leave no cruelty undone, in their greed for gold, they will rise and drive out the invaders."[71]

This time Christian determined not to attempt a landing in Denmark, but to sail straight to Norway, where he had always been more popular than in any other part of his dominions, and still numbered many partisans. His expectations were not disappointed. When he landed, on the 5th of November, the peasantry and burghers flocked to his standard. The Archbishop of Drondtheim and the clergy declared in his favour, and the States-General, which met in January, 1532, at Oslo, the old capital, renewed their oaths of allegiance to him as their rightful King. But the strong forts of Bergen and Aggershus, at the gates of the town, closed their gates against him, and his army soon began to dwindle away for want of supplies. Early in the spring a strong fleet, fitted out by King Frederic, with the help of the citizens of Lübeck, appeared before Oslo, and set fire to Christian's ships in the harbour, while a Danish army, under Knut Gyldenstern, advanced from the south. Once more the King's nerve failed him. He met the Danish captain in a meadow outside Oslo, and, after prolonged negotiations, agreed to lay down his arms and go to Copenhagen, to confer with his uncle. The next day he disbanded his forces and took leave of his loyal supporters. Thus, without striking a blow, he delivered Norway into the usurper's hands, and surrendered his last claim to the three kingdoms.[72]

1523-31] CHRISTIAN II.'S FALL

In return for his submission, Gyldenstern had promised the King honourable entertainment and given him a written safe-conduct. Trusting in these assurances, Christian went on board a Danish ship, and on the 24th of July arrived before Copenhagen. As the ship sailed up the Sound in the early summer morning, people flocked from all parts to see their old King, and many of the women and children wept aloud. His fate, they realized, was already sealed. Before the arrival of the fleet, a conference had been held between Frederic and the Swedish and Hanse deputies, who agreed that so dangerous a foe must not be allowed to remain at liberty, and condemned the unfortunate monarch to perpetual imprisonment in the island fortress of Sonderburg. In vain Christian demanded to be set on shore and conducted into his uncle's presence. He was told that the King would meet him in the Castle of Flensburg in Schleswig. But when, instead of sailing in this direction, the ship which bore him entered the narrow Alsener Sound, and the walls of Sonderburg came in sight, the unhappy King saw the trap into which he had fallen, and broke into transports of rage. But it was too late, and he was powerless in the hands of his enemies. No indignity was spared him by his captors. As he entered the lonely cell in the highest turret of the castle, Knut Gyldenstern, who is said to have been one of his mistress Dyveke's lovers, plucked the fallen monarch by the beard, and tore the jewel of the Golden Fleece from his neck. None of the old servants who had clung to their exiled Prince so faithfully were allowed to share his prison, and for many years a pet dwarf was his sole companion.[73]

In this foul and treacherous manner King Christian II. was betrayed into the hands of his foes and doomed to lifelong captivity. And, by a strange fate, in these early days of August, at the very moment when the iron gates of Sonderburg closed behind him, his only son, the rightful heir to the three kingdoms, died far away in Southern Germany, within the walls of the imperial city of Regensburg.

Meanwhile the news of Christian's unexpected success in Norway had reached Brussels and excited great surprise.

"The King of Denmark," wrote Mary of Hungary to her brother Ferdinand, "has done so well by his rashness that he has actually recovered possession of one of his kingdoms, and his friends hope that he may be able to stay there."[74]

1523-31] COURT FÊTES

This was towards the end of December, when the imperial family had assembled in the palace to keep Christmas. Prince John had won golden opinions on the progress which he had made with his uncle and aunt, and was as much beloved by the Emperor, wrote Mario Savorgnano, as if he were his own son. Now his little sisters were brought to Brussels by their uncle's command to share in the festivities. Early in January, 1532, Charles heard that his sister, Queen Katherine of Portugal, had given birth to a son, and the happy event was celebrated by a grand tournament on the square in front of the Portuguese Ambassador's house. The Emperor, accompanied by the Queen of Hungary and the Prince and Princesses of Denmark, looked on at the jousts and sword and torch dances from a balcony draped with white and green velvet, and at nine o'clock sat down to a sumptuous banquet. The Queen was seated at the head of the table, opposite the fireplace, with the Emperor on her right and Princess Dorothea at his side. Prince John was on his aunt's left, and the youthful Christina, who made her first appearance in public on this occasion, sat between her brother and the Portuguese Ambassador. Henry of Nassau, the Prince of Bisignano, and Ferrante Gonzaga, were at the same board, while Nassau's son, the young Prince René, who had lately inherited the principality of Orange from his maternal uncle, sat with the Queen's ladies at another table. Charles was in high spirits. He talked and laughed with all the lords and ladies who were present during the interminable number of courses of meat, fish, game, wines, cakes, and fruits, that were served in succession, with brief interludes of music. When, at eleven, the Emperor rose from table, an Italian comedy was acted, in which Ferrante Gonzaga and several Italian and Spanish noblemen took part. Then King Cupid appeared, riding in a triumphal car, and a troop of Loves danced hand in hand, until, at a sign from Charles, the actors removed their masks. A collation of confetti and Madeira and Valencia wines was then served at a buffet laden with costly gold and silver cups and precious bowls of Oriental porcelain. When all the guests had ate and drunk their fill, the finest crystal vases and bottles of perfume were presented to the Queen and Princesses, and the other ladies received gifts from the Ambassador. The royal guests joined with great spirit in the dancing which followed, and did not retire till two o'clock.[75] Concerts and suppers, jousts and dances, succeeded each other throughout the week, and the Emperor gave splendid presents to the Ambassador of Portugal, and sent cordial congratulations to his royal brother-in-law on the birth of his son and heir.

A fortnight later Charles left Brussels, taking Prince John with him, and travelled by slow stages to Regensburg, where the Imperial Diet was opened in May. Here the Court remained during the next three months, and the young Prince was sent to receive the Count Palatine, the Archbishop of Mainz, and other Princes of the Empire, who arrived in turn to take part in the assembly. Unluckily the weather proved very disagreeable. "Never," exclaimed the Venetian Ambassador, "was there such a detestable climate!" A long continuance of heavy rains and unusual heat was followed by some bitterly cold days, which produced serious illness. Princes and nobles, Ambassadors and servants, all succumbed in turn to the same epidemic. The Venetian took to his bed, and four of his servants became seriously ill. The Emperor himself was invalided, and left the town to take waters and change of air in a neighbouring village. "There is hardly a house in the Court," wrote the Mantuan Envoy, "where some person is not ill. Most people recover, but a good many die, especially those who are young." Among the victims was Prince John of Denmark. Charles returned to find his nephew in high fever and delirium. He was deeply distressed, and when the poor boy became unconscious, and the doctors gave no hope, he left the town again, saying that he could not bear to see the child die. The Prince never recovered consciousness, and passed away at two o'clock on the morning of the 12th of August.

"The poor little Prince of Denmark died last night," wrote the Mantuan Ambassador, "to the infinite distress of the whole Court, and above all of Cæsar, who bore him singular affection, not only on account of the close ties of blood between them, but because of the young Prince's charming nature and winning manners, which made him beloved by everyone and gave rise to the highest hopes."[76]

1523-31] THE EMPEROR'S GRIEF

By the Emperor's orders an imposing funeral service was held at Regensburg, after which the Prince's body was taken to Ghent and buried in his mother's grave. Charles himself wrote to break the sad news to Mary of Hungary and her poor little nieces:

"Madame my good Sister,

"This is only to inform you of the loss we have suffered in the death of our little nephew of Denmark, whom it pleased God to take to Himself on Sunday morning, the day before yesterday, after he had been ill of internal catarrh for a whole week. This has caused me the greatest grief that I have ever known. For he was the dearest little fellow, of his age, that it was possible to see, and I have felt this loss more than I did that of my son, for he was older, and I knew him better and loved him as if he had been my own child. But we must bow to the Divine will. Although I know that God might have allowed this to happen anywhere, I cannot help feeling that if I had left the boy at home with you he might not have died. At least his father will be sure to say so. I expect you know where he is said to be. Without offence to God, I could wish he were in his son's place, and his son well received in his own kingdom. All the same, without pretending to be the judge, perhaps the King has not deserved to be there, and the little rogue is better off where he is than where I should have liked to see him, and smiles at my wish for him, for he was certainly not guilty of any great sins. He died in so Christian a manner that, if he had committed as many as I have, there would have been good hope of his soul's weal, and with his last breath he called on Jesus. I am writing to my little nieces, as you see, to comfort them. I am sure that you will try and do the same. The best remedy will be to find them two husbands."[77]

When Charles wrote these touching words, he had not yet heard of the disastrous end to King Christian's campaign, and believed the Prince's father to be in possession of the Norwegian capital. But he added a postscript to his letter, telling the Queen of a report which had just arrived, that the King had been taken prisoner by his foes. Four days later this report was confirmed by letters from Lübeck merchants, and no further doubt could be entertained of the doom which had overtaken the unhappy monarch. His melancholy fate excited little compassion, either in Germany or in the Netherlands. Luther, to his credit, addressed an earnest appeal to King Frederic congratulating him on his victory, and begging him to take example by Christ, who died for His murderers, and have pity on the unfortunate captive. But in reply Frederic issued an apology, in which he brought the gravest charges against the deposed King, and accused him of having preferred a low woman of worthless character to the noblest and most virtuous of Queens. Before long the old commercial treaties between Denmark and the Low Countries were renewed, and the Baltic trade was resumed on the understanding that no attempt was made to revive King Christian's claims.

The prisoner of Sonderburg was forgotten by the world, and the one being who loved him best on earth, his sister Elizabeth of Brandenburg, could only commend his little daughters sadly to the Regent, and beg her to have compassion on these desolate children. Mary replied in a letter full of feeling, assuring Elizabeth that she need have no fear on this score, and that her little nieces should be treated as if they were her own daughters. She kept her word nobly.[78]

FOOTNOTES:

[40] Calendar of State Papers, iii. 2, 1270.

[41] Altmeyer, "Relations Commerciales," 108.

[42] State Papers, Record Office, vi. 139, 155-158. Calendar of State Papers, iii. 2, 1293, 1329.

[43] J. Altmeyer, "Relations," etc., 108.

[44] D. Schäfer, "Geschichte von Dänemark," iv. 26.

[45] State Papers, Record Office, viii. 141, 156.

[46] Altmeyer, "Relations," etc., 112; Schäfer, iv. 44, 48.

[47] Altmeyer, "Isabelle d'Autriche," 30.

[48] "Relations," etc., 126; C. Förstemann, "Neues Urkundenbuch z. Geschichte d. Reformation," i. 269.