earlier years; for the ideas of George Halluin were the ideas of
Erasmus. We may be quite certain also that, under the same guide,
Busbecq was not allowed to damp his ardour and stupefy his brains with
too copious doses of Latin grammar, before he was made free of his Livy
and his Virgil. As much as possible of the works of the ancients, and
as little as possible of the cut and dried rules of the moderns—such
would be George Halluin’s advice. If any one be curious as to the
result of such a system, they have but to look at Busbecq’s Latin for
the answer.
At the age of thirteen Busbecq became a student at Louvain, the
celebrated University of Brabant, where Erasmus once taught. Here he
spent five years, at the end of which he received a reward, which must
have been more precious to him than any of his University laurels. In
consideration of his merits as a student, and other good qualities,
Charles V. issued a Patent,[61] removing the stain from his birth, and
admitting him into the noble family of Busbecq.
According to the fashion of the times, the young man’s education was
not completed at Louvain. He went the round of the great Universities
of Europe, studying at Paris, Bologna, and Padua; at the last he became
the pupil of the famous Baptista Egnatius, the friend and fellow-worker
of Erasmus.
The ideas which he imbibed in the course of his education appear to be
a sort of continuation or development of those of Erasmus. There is
a striking resemblance between the views of Busbecq and those of his
contemporary, Pierre de la Ramée. These views and theories consisted in
making the results achieved by the ancients a new point of departure
for the learning of modern times.[62] In medicine, for instance, the
works of Galen and Hippocrates were to be taken for the foundation, and
all later writers ignored; on this substratum the medical science of
the future was to be built. That these ideas rested on a sound basis
there can be no doubt. Immense results, in almost every field of human
knowledge, had been achieved during the palmy days of Greece and Rome;
with the downfall of the latter a flood of barbarism had poured over
the civilised world. The human race had been struggling again towards
the light, but struggling with slow and feeble step. In Busbecq’s days
they had not nearly reached the point where Greece and Rome left off.
Compare, for instance, the writings of Philippe de Comines, one of
the ablest men of his time, with those of Busbecq sixty years later.
The former are stamped with the ideas of the middle ages, the latter
are bright with the freshness of a modern writer. The difference is
simply enormous, and it is to be attributed to the fact that Philippe
de Comines, who was fully conscious of his loss, was ignorant of Latin,
while Busbecq had kept company, as it were, with the brightest wits
and most learned men of ancient times.
But it must not be supposed that the men of Ramée’s school had any
idea of contenting themselves with the knowledge of the ancients; on
the contrary, they made it the starting-point for the prosecution of
further discoveries. Busbecq’s letters furnish us with an excellent
instance of the practice of these ideas. With Pliny, Galen, Vopiscus at
his fingers’ ends, he is ever seeking to verify, correct, or enlarge
the store he has received. For him all knowledge is gain, and he seeks
it in every quarter; inscriptions, coins, manuscripts; birds, beasts,
and flowers; the homes, customs, and languages of mankind; the secrets
of earth, air, and water—all alike are subjects of interest to him. One
trait marks the man. On his journeys he made it a rule, as soon as he
reached his halting-place for the night, to sally forth in search of
some discovery. Occasionally an inscription, or some of his favourite
coins, was the result; at other times it would be a strange plant, or
even a quaint story; but whatever it was, it was duly garnered.
It seems probable that Busbecq, after the completion of his studies,
returned to Flanders, and for a few years led that quiet life with his
books and a few friends, which afterwards, amid the blaze and glare of
a court, seemed to him the perfection of human happiness. We have no
record of his life during these years, but it is easy to picture it.
Many a quiet morning spent in reading at Bousbecque, or in a corner of
the Halluin library at Comines, a chat with a chance student friend
as to the last news from the Universities, a stroll to inspect Roman
coins or pottery lately discovered at Wervicq, a search for some rare
plant, a series of observations on the habits of some animal. Nor would
his life be spent only in the country. At Lille there was the family
mansion, and his aunt Marie Ghiselin to welcome him; there he could
find a larger circle of literary friends, and ransack their libraries
for books, which might be absent from the collections at Bousbecque and
Comines.
It may seem strange that he was so thoroughly accepted in the family,
but the explanation is not difficult. His address was singularly
winning, and at the same time he inspired every one with confidence in
his honesty;[63] he was remarkable for his tact[64] in dealing with the
prejudices of his fellow-creatures, and when it was necessary to be
firm[65] he could be firm without blustering. The qualities which made
him so successful as a diplomatist were the qualities most calculated
to endear him to his friends. The man who could ingratiate himself with
Roostem was not likely to be unpopular among his own kith and kin.
We now come to the event which first introduced Busbecq into public
life. On July 25, 1554, in Winchester Cathedral, Mary of England gave
her hand to Philip of Spain. Among those who witnessed the ceremony was
Ogier Ghiselin de Busbecq.
It was only natural that Ferdinand, the brother of Charles V., should
send an ambassador to represent him at the marriage of his nephew
to the daughter of his unfortunate aunt, Catherine of Aragon. For
this purpose he selected a Spanish gentleman, Don Pedro Lasso de
Castilla,[66] who had been the companion of his boyhood in Spain,
and had since continued to be a member of his household. With him
Busbecq went as attaché. In the life appended to the Elzevir edition
of Busbecq’s letters, we are told that he joined the embassy on Don
Pedro’s invitation; but in a document of infinitely higher authority,
the Patent of knighthood given in the Appendix, it is distinctly stated
that the summons came from Ferdinand himself, who thus adopted into
his service the grandson of the _écuyer trenchant_ who had served his
brother, his father, and his great-grandfather.
In order to mark the importance of the occasion, Don Pedro Lasso was
attended to England by a numerous train, many of whom were gentlemen.
Altogether there were nearly seventy persons in his suite.[67]
The arrival of this embassy was peculiarly gratifying to Queen Mary,
and she caused Don Pedro and his staff to be received with special
honours. As they entered London, June 26, 1554, a salute was fired from
the Tower, a compliment which excited the jealousy of Noailles, the
French ambassador.[68]
Busbecq must have had no ordinary powers as a linguist, for we have
it on the authority of his contemporary, L. Guicciardini, that there
were six languages with which he was as familiar and ready as with his
mother tongue (Flemish). These were Latin, Italian, French, Spanish,
German, and Slav; unfortunately, a knowledge of English was not amongst
the number of his accomplishments, and this may partially account for
the absence in his letters of any allusion to the manners and customs
of our country. It is much to be regretted that we have not got some
record of his visit; if he acted as secretary, as is supposed, possibly
his despatches from England may still be lying among the archives at
Vienna to gladden the heart of some future discoverer.
Don Pedro Lasso with Busbecq and the rest of his suite, stayed in
England till October 1554. They then took leave of the Queen, and
travelled down to Dover with the intention of crossing over to the
Continent. Here they found themselves stopped. Every day French
vessels could be seen hovering off the harbour in search of a Prize.
The Ambassador found it necessary to write[69] to Queen Mary, reminding
her that he had only come to England by his master’s orders to do
honour to her nuptials, and asking her to give such instructions as
would ensure his safe departure. It is not likely that an ambassador
who was received with such high distinction made so reasonable a
request in vain, and there can therefore be little doubt, that Busbecq
and his chief were escorted to Calais by a squadron of English ships
manned with stout sailors from the Cinque Ports.
On reaching the Netherlands, the embassy was broken up, Don Pedro
repaired to Brussels, and Busbecq went back to his friends and
relatives. It is evident that the young diplomatist had impressed his
chief with a very high idea of his ability and discretion, for a few
days after his return from England, whilst staying with his aunt Marie
Ghiselin, at Lille, he received a summons from Ferdinand to undertake
the duties of ambassador at Constantinople. He was called to a most
difficult and apparently hopeless task.
Ferdinand of Austria, King of the Romans, and afterwards Emperor,
Sovereign of Hungary and Bohemia, was in a most critical position; it
is no exaggeration to say that he and his kingdoms lay at the mercy
of the Sultan, who might any day annihilate his forces, and take
possession of his dominions. His only hope of rescuing his subjects
from slavery lay in the skill of his ambassadors. In 1545 Gerard
Veltwick[70] (Velduvic), had been sent to represent the two brothers,
Charles V. and Ferdinand, at the Turkish court; on his return, John
Maria Malvezzi, one of his companions, had succeeded to the post.
Malvezzi was not fortunate; the Turks regarded an ambassador simply in
the light of a hostage,[71] and when Ferdinand in the autumn of 1551
broke faith with them by taking possession of Transylvania, they threw
Malvezzi into a horrible dungeon; there the unfortunate man remained
till August 1553, when his release was procured by Francis Zay and
Antony Wranczy (Verantius) afterwards Bishop of Erlau, who came to
Constantinople as Ferdinand’s representatives.
Malvezzi returned to Vienna broken in health by his sufferings in the
Turkish dungeon. It was not long, however, before Ferdinand ordered
him to resume his duties at Constantinople; Malvezzi did his utmost to
comply with his master’s wish; he struggled as far as Komorn and there
broke down. Ferdinand suspected him of pretending to be worse than he
really was, in order to avoid a post of the perils of which he had had
such painful experience. As Busbecq forcibly remarks, Malvezzi’s death
a few months later removed this doubt!
Ferdinand had need of some one to succeed Malvezzi. It was not an
enviable post, and the courtiers of Vienna had no fancy for the risk of
being slowly done to death in some noisome dungeon at Constantinople,
or of returning, as the Pashas at one time intended Busbecq should
return, noseless and earless! But Ferdinand felt that it was absolutely
necessary to have a representative at the Turkish Court to assist him
in staving off the evil day. Accordingly he sent a summons to Busbecq,
and at the same time despatched a message to his late chief, Don Pedro
Lasso, asking him to use his influence with the young diplomatist,
and urge him to start at once for Vienna. It would seem as if the
post were but little coveted, when such pressure had to be applied.
Busbecq, however, needed no urging; he was a man capable of finding
intense pleasure in new scenes, new work, new discoveries, and all were
included in the prospect now opening to his eager eyes.
It was on November 3, 1554, that Ogier received Ferdinand’s message. He
at once started for Bousbecque, and paid a last visit of love to his
father, his friends, and the home that was so dear to him. Thence he
hurried off to Brussels, where he had an interview with his old chief,
and before many hours were past he was galloping along the road to
Vienna. A comparison of dates will show how very prompt Busbecq must
have been. He received the summons on November 3, and by the eighteenth
he had reached Vienna, having paid at least two visits in the meantime,
and made his preparations for his distant journey. It was probably
at Bousbecque that he enlisted the followers who were to accompany
him in his long and perilous expedition; it is evident that they were
Flemings, sturdy fellows who knew no fear, fond of a bottle of wine,
and not averse to a practical joke.[72] There were amongst them men of
fair education,[73] who had perhaps been trained in the chapter-school
of Comines, and there was one man of eminent ability, who came from the
neighbouring town of Courtrai, William Quacquelben.[74] He acted as
physician to the party, and at first seems to have occupied a position
little differing from that of a servant; how Busbecq learnt to love and
appreciate him will be told in his own words.
Even the journey to Vienna had dangers of its own. A system of posting
had already been established between Brussels and Vienna, so that
Busbecq could change his weary steeds at every stage; but it was
November, the days were short and the nights long, and his business
being urgent, he had to risk his neck by galloping over villainous
roads long after it was dark.
At Vienna he was welcomed by an old friend and fellow-countryman, John
Van der Aa, who was now acting as one of Ferdinand’s privy council;
it was in a great measure owing to his strong recommendation that
Ferdinand invited Busbecq into his service. John Van der Aa had now the
pleasure of presenting the young Ambassador to Ferdinand, who received
him in a manner betokening at once kindness and confidence.
It is not the object here to anticipate his account; how he visited his
dying predecessor Malvezzi, and all the particulars of his journey to
Constantinople, may be read in his own words. Busbecq tells his story
in his own pleasant way; this memoir is only intended to fill up the
blanks as far as possible; as to the rest, the writer will be left to
speak for himself.[75]
Something perhaps ought to be said as to the style of his work. It
was the fashion among the students of that day to compose short
accounts of their journeys for the information and amusement of
their friends. These were generally written in Latin verse, very
much after the model of Horace’s journey to Brundisium. (Hor. _Sat._
i. 5.) Busbecq speaks of his first Turkish letter as containing two
of these itineraries,[76] and it was originally published under the
title of _Itinera Constantinopolitanum et Amasianum_; the other three
letters, though not strictly itineraries, are written in the same
style. Probably these letters would not have been half so amusing, or
half so instructive, if Busbecq had intended them for publication; so
far was he from thinking, when he wrote them, of committing them to
print, that it was not till some twenty years later that any of them
saw the light, and then only the first was published. Neither did the
author ever sanction the publication. His countryman, L. Carrion, took
on himself the responsibility of sending the work to the press. It is
from him we learn that the letters were written to Nicolas Michault,
seigneur of Indeveldt, Busbecq’s fellow-student in Italy, and for many
years Ambassador[77] to the Court of Portugal; he also tells us that
the writer never intended to give them to the public. That Busbecq had
at any rate no hand whatever in the publication is abundantly proved by
the mistakes of Carrion, some of which have been repeated in subsequent
editions. For instance, the first letter ought to be dated September
1, 1555, whereas in all the Latin editions it is printed September 1,
1554, the internal evidence being conclusive as to the correctness of
the former date.
_Busbecq at the Court of Vienna._
The four Turkish letters supply us with a full account of the eight
years which Busbecq spent at the Court of Solyman, and it will not be
necessary to take up the thread of his story till his return to Germany
in the autumn of 1562.
At first he was uncomfortable, and felt out of his element in the
atmosphere of a court; he hoped for a peaceful paradise after George
Halluin’s model, by the waters of the Lys, a quiet home furnished with
plenty of books, a good garden, and a few friends.
But his services were far too highly valued by Ferdinand and his son
Maximilian to allow of his retirement.
It was not long before a new post was found for him. Very soon after
Busbecq’s return from Constantinople, an application was made to
Maximilian, which, if it gratified his ambition, must also have
filled him with the greatest anxiety. Philip of Spain proposed to
bestow the hand of his daughter on one of Maximilian’s sons, and,
distrusting no doubt the more liberal tone which prevailed at the Court
of Vienna, coupled the proposal with the condition, that the young
Archdukes, Rodolph and Ernest, should be entrusted to his charge.
Though Maximilian acceded to his request, it was probably not without
compunction that that wise and tolerant prince committed his two
boys—the eldest of whom was only eleven years of age—into the keeping
of the royal bigot.
The only precaution open to him lay in the appointment of the officers
of the household which was to accompany them to Spain. To Busbecq was
assigned the post of _écuyer trenchant_,[78] an appointment which met
with the warm approval of Ferdinand.
The young Archdukes proceeded to Spain. They were handed over to the
Jesuits to be educated, and Busbecq left their service. It is easy
to understand that a man brought up in the school of Erasmus was not
likely to prove acceptable to the staff of instructors appointed
by Philip; but whatever the circumstances may have been through
which he lost his post, it is certain that he in no way fell in the
estimation of Ferdinand and Maximilian. The latter, on his coronation
as King of Hungary (September 8, 1563), bestowed on Busbecq the
honour of knighthood; the occasion was peculiarly appropriate, as the
Ambassador had by his diplomatic skill greatly mitigated the lot of the
inhabitants of that unfortunate kingdom. This distinction was confirmed
by the Emperor, who issued the Patent, dated April 3, 1564, a copy of
which will be found in the Appendix. A far greater proof, however, of
Maximilian’s esteem and confidence was received by Busbecq about this
time. Rodolph and Ernest, his two eldest sons, were being educated
by Philip’s Jesuits; but the Archdukes Matthias, Maximilian, Albert,
and Wenceslaus, were still under their father’s care, and by him
Busbecq was appointed their governor and seneschal. For several years
he was engaged in superintending the household and education of the
young Archdukes, whom, according to Howaert,[79] he had the honour of
escorting to Spain and introducing to Philip. His youthful charges had
not yet arrived at manhood, when his services were required for their
sister.
_Busbecq in France._
Maximilian’s daughter, the Archduchess Elizabeth (Isabella), had to
leave her family and her country to unite her fortunes with Charles IX.
of France, the unhappy king whose memory will be for ever associated
with the massacre of St. Bartholomew. The position she went to occupy
was as perilous as it was brilliant. Queen of France, wife of Charles
IX., daughter-in-law of Catherine de Medici, with Marguerite de Valois
(afterwards Queen of Henry of Navarre), for a sister-in-law, she had
need of the trustiest and wisest counsellor her father could supply;
and it was therefore no idle compliment to Busbecq, when he was called
from the care of her brothers to take his place at the head of her
household. He had, like his grandfather Gilles Ghiselin II., held the
post of _écuyer trenchant_ in the imperial family. He had next been
appointed governor and seneschal to the young Archdukes, and he was now
sent as seneschal, or high steward, of the Archduchess’s household when
she left parents and fatherland to share a foreign throne.
The marriage took place by proxy, October 23, 1570, and in the
following month the Archduchess set out for France under the care of
her faithful seneschal. A reader of the life of Busbecq prefixed to the
Elzevir edition, would be led to suppose that he remained at the head
of the Queen’s household in France from that time forth. Such, however,
was not the case. Various notices by his friends Lipsius,[80] the
celebrated scholar, and de l’Ecluse, the botanist, prove beyond doubt
that he shortly afterwards returned to Vienna. At any rate he was there
in the summer of 1572 and the winter of 1573, apparently the life and
soul of the literary and scientific society of the Austrian capital.
Here he was able to keep up to some degree his connection with Turkey,
for we find that he received parcels of tulip bulbs and other rare
plants from Constantinople, of which his countryman de l’Ecluse reaped
the benefit.
Such a life must have been nearly as much after Busbecq’s own heart
as the paradise of which he dreamed by the waters of the Lys; perhaps
he thought his troubles were over, and he would be allowed to go
peacefully to his grave after enriching the world with the fruits of a
long course of scientific study. Such, however, was not to be the case.
On May 30, 1574, Charles IX. of France ended his brief and unhappy
life. The Archduchess Elizabeth was now a widow. What her position was
may be gathered from the graphic touches in Busbecq’s letters; from
the first it was difficult, and at last—to use her own words—it became
intolerable.
The Emperor, on hearing of his son-in-law’s death, immediately
despatched his old friend and faithful servant to comfort his daughter,
and take charge of her affairs.
The instructions which Busbecq received were by no means simple. It
was thought probable that the new king, Henry III., would make an
offer of his hand to Elizabeth, and this alliance would, it appears,
have been acceptable to Maximilian; the widowed Queen did not care for
her brother-in-law, but was prepared to yield to her father’s wishes.
There was a possibility also of a match with Sebastian, the chivalrous
boy-king of Portugal, or, again, of her being asked to undertake the
government of the Netherlands.
There was also the question whether if she remained a widow, she was
to live in France or return home, and whether, if she came back, she
would be allowed to bring with her her delicate little daughter.
Important above all other matters though, in the eyes of Maximilian,
was the question of her dower. The usual allowance for a widowed Queen
of France was 60,000 francs per annum, and this sum had been settled
on Elizabeth at her marriage. Busbecq was to see that this income
was properly secured, and this was no easy matter. He found from the
case of Mary Queen of Scots, that promises to pay were of little
value unless the sums were charged on part of the crown lands, and it
was only with great difficulty that he managed to effect a tolerably
satisfactory arrangement. Such was the general purport of Busbecq’s
instructions. He had also a sort of roving commission to report on
the general condition of France, and the character of her public men;
he was to chronicle passing events, and give an estimate of what the
future was likely to bring forth. Reports on these heads, with an
occasional piece of gossip, form the contents of his letters to the
Emperor Maximilian.[81] The first of this series is dated Speyer,
August 22, 1574, and the last, Wasserburg, February 8, 1576.