Transcriber's note: Obvious printer errors have been repaired, but
spelling has not been standardized. Likely spelling errors in the
French poems have not been corrected, as the consulted sources
have the same.
Some Roman numerals, followed by superscript representing ancient units
of weight used in the goldsmith's trade, have been marked in curly
brackets:
{m} stands for marc
{o} stands for once
{e} stands for estelin
Letters written with a straight line above are marked [=x].
Number "83" was somehow left out in the (French) Inventory of
Margaret's possessions.
ROMANTIC HISTORY
_General Editor_: MARTIN HUME, M.A.
THE FIRST GOVERNESS OF
THE NETHERLANDS
[Illustration: MARGARET OF AUSTRIA
FROM THE WINDOW IN THE CHAPEL OF THE VIRGIN IN THE CHURCH OF BROU
(ABOUT 1528)]
THE FIRST GOVERNESS
OF THE NETHERLANDS
MARGARET OF AUSTRIA
BY
ELEANOR E. TREMAYNE
WITH TWENTY ILLUSTRATIONS
NEW YORK: G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
LONDON: METHUEN & CO.
1908
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
INTRODUCTION, vii
I. QUEEN OF FRANCE, 1
II. PRINCESS OF ASTURIAS, 16
III. DUCHESS OF SAVOY, 32
IV. THE BUILDING OF BROU, 50
V. REGENT OF THE NETHERLANDS, 67
VI. THE LEAGUE OF CAMBRAY, 86
VII. MARGARET'S CORRESPONDENCE, 98
VIII. A LOVE AFFAIR, 119
IX. CHARLES DECLARED OF AGE, 141
X. DEATH OF MAXIMILIAN, 158
XI. REVOLT OF THE DUKE OF BOURBON, 183
XII. CAPTURE OF FRANCIS I., 208
XIII. THE LADIES' PEACE, 242
XIV. THE MISSION ENDED, 268
XV. THE CHURCH OF BROU, 294
INVENTAIRE DES TABLEAUX, LIVRES, JOYAUX, ET
MEUBLES DE MARGUERITE D'AUTRICHE, 305
LIST OF PICTURES FROM MARGARET'S COLLECTION
SENT TO BROU (1533) 328
CATALOGUE OF MANUSCRIPTS IN MARGARET OF
AUSTRIA'S LIBRARY AT MALINES, 330
A FEW LETTERS FROM MAXIMILIAN I. TO MARGARET,
AND FROM MARGARET TO VARIOUS PERSONS, 335
INDEX, 343
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
MARGARET OF AUSTRIA, _Frontispiece_
From the Window in the Chapel of the Virgin
in the Church of Brou (about 1528).
PHILIPPE LE BEL AND HIS SISTER MARGARET OF
AUSTRIA, _To face page_ 12
Panel in the Imperial Museum, Vienna.
_Photograph by J. Löwy._)
TOMB OF DON JOHN, PRINCE OF ASTURIAS, ONLY SON
OF FERDINAND AND ISABELLA, AVILA, 29
(_Photograph by J. Lacoste._)
GHENT, SHOWING THE OLD BELFRY AND CHURCH OF
ST. JOHN, WHERE CHARLES V. WAS BAPTIZED, 32
(_Photograph by Deloeul._)
MEDAL STRUCK AT BOURG TO COMMEMORATE MARGARET
OF AUSTRIA'S MARRIAGE WITH PHILIBERT,
DUKE OF SAVOY, 40
British Museum Collection.
TOMB OF PHILIBERT LE BEAU, DUKE OF SAVOY, 45
In the Church of Brou.
(_Photograph by Neurdein frères._)
PHILIPPE LE BEL, 64
From the Painting in the Louvre (Flemish School)
(_Photograph by Neurdein frères._)
CHARLES V. AND HIS TWO SISTERS, ELEANOR AND
ISABEL, 69
Painted in 1502 (Margaret's Collection),
now in the Imperial Museum, Vienna.
(_Photograph by J. Löwy._)
ELEANOR OF AUSTRIA AS A CHILD, 74
From the Painting by Mabuse in the possession
of M. Charles Léon Cardou, Brussels.
(_Photograph by G. Van Oest & Co._)
MARGARET OF AUSTRIA IN WIDOW'S DRESS, 95
From the Painting by Bernard van Orley in the possession
of Dr. Carvallo, Paris.
(_Photograph by the Art Reproduction Co._)
CHARLES V., 154
From the Painting in the Louvre (Flemish School).
(_Photograph by Neurdein frères._)
THE EMPEROR MAXIMILIAN I. AND HIS FAMILY, 165
From the Painting by Bernhard Strigel in the Imperial
Museum, Vienna.
(_Photograph by J. Löwy._)
FRANCIS I., 211
From a Painting in the Louvre (French School).
(_Photograph by Neurdein frères._)
THE CHILDREN OF CHRISTIAN II. AND ISABEL OF DENMARK--IN
MOURNING DRESS FOR THEIR MOTHER, 234
From the Painting by Mabuse at Hampton Court Palace.
(_Photograph by W. A. Mansell & Co._)
CARVED WOODEN MANTELPIECE IN THE PALAIS DE
JUSTICE, BRUGES, ERECTED TO COMMEMORATE THE
PEACE OF CAMBRAY, 264
(_Photograph by Neurdein frères._)
INTERIOR OF COURTYARD IN MARGARET'S PALACE AT
MALINES, NOW THE PALAIS DE JUSTICE, 273
(_Photograph by Deloeul._)
JOHN ARNOLFINI OF LUCCA, AND HIS WIFE JOAN, 278
From the Painting by John van Eyck in the National
Gallery.
LEGEND OF 'NOTRE DAME DU SABLON,' 284
From the Tapestry in the Musée du Cinquantenaire,
Brussels. It contains portraits of Margaret and her
Nephews and Nieces.
(_Photograph by Deloeul._)
TOMB OF MARGARET OF AUSTRIA, _To face page_ 298
In the Church of Brou.
(_Photograph by Neurdein frères._)
MARGARET OF AUSTRIA SITTING AT A TABLE WITH AN
OPEN BOOK ADORING THE VIRGIN AND CHILD, 317
From a Diptych in the possession of M. Lescarts, Mons
(Margaret's Collection).
(_Photograph by G. Van Oest & Co._)
INTRODUCTION
Three of the craftiest royal rogues in Christendom strove hard to
cozen and outwit each other in the last years of the fifteenth and the
earlier years of the sixteenth century. No betrayal was too false, no
trick too undignified, no hypocrisy too contemptible for Ferdinand of
Aragon, Maximilian of Austria, and Henry Tudor if unfair advantage
could be gained by them; and the details of their diplomacy convey to
modern students less an impression of serious State negotiations than
of the paltry dodges of three hucksters with a strong sense of humour.
Of the three, Ferdinand excelled in unscrupulous falsity, Maximilian
in bluff effrontery, and Henry VII. in close-fisted cunning: they were
all equal in their cynical disregard for the happiness of their own
children, whom they sought to use as instruments of their policy, and
fate finally overreached them all. And yet by a strange chance,
amongst the offspring of these three clever tricksters were some of
the noblest characters of the age. John, Prince of Castile, and
Arthur, Prince of Wales, both died too young to have proved their full
worth, but they were beloved beyond the ordinary run of princes, and
were unquestionably gentle, high-minded, and good; Katharine of Aragon
stands for ever as an exalted type of steadfast faith and worthy
womanhood, unscathed in surroundings and temptations of unequalled
difficulty; and Margaret of Austria, as this book will show, was not
only a great ruler but a cultured poet, a patron of art, a lover of
children, a faithful wife, a pious widow, and, above all, a woman full
of sweet feminine charm.
In an age when princesses of the great royal houses were from their
infancy regarded as matrimonial pledges for the maintenance of
international treaties, few were promised or sought so frequently as
Margaret; for an alliance with her meant the support of the Empire and
the States of Burgundy, whilst her two rich dowries from earlier
marriages made her as desirable from a financial point of view as she
was personally and politically. But with her second widowhood in her
youthful prime came to her a distaste for further experiments in a
field where, as she said, so much unhappiness had befallen her, and of
political marriages she would have no more. Her one real love affair,
to which reference will be made presently, is pathetic as showing the
sad fate of such an exalted princess, who, being a true woman and in
love with a gallant man, yet had to stifle the yearnings of her heart
for a happy marriage, and fulfil the duty imposed upon her by the
grandeur of her destiny.
There was little of love, indeed, in most of the matrimonial proposals
made to her, though for two short periods she was an affectionate
wife. From the time when as a proud little maiden of twelve, conscious
of the slight put upon her, she was repudiated by the man whom she had
looked upon as her future husband as long as she could remember, and
was sent away from the country of which she had been taught she was to
be the Queen, until her body was borne in state to the sumptuous fane
which her piety had raised, but which she had never seen, Margaret of
Austria knew that a princess of the imperial house must be a statesman
first and a woman afterwards, at whatever sacrifice of her personal
happiness.
In the great plot of Ferdinand, King of Aragon, to shut France in by a
close ring of rivals, and so to stay her march eastward along the
Mediterranean to the detriment of the little realm of his fathers, the
first open move was made by the triumphant negotiations with
Maximilian, King of the Romans, and future Emperor, for the marriage
of Ferdinand's only son, John, the first heir of all Spain, to
Maximilian's only daughter, Margaret; and that of Maximilian's only
son, Philip, sovereign by right of his mother of the rich duchies of
Burgundy, to Ferdinand's second daughter, Joanna. The matches were
cleverly conceived, for in the ordinary course of events they seemed
to ensure that a band of close kinsmen, all descended from the King of
Aragon, should rule over Flanders, the Franche Comté, Burgundy, the
Empire, Spain, and Sicily, all banded together to prevent the
expansion of France on any side, whilst the alliance which the
marriages represented gave to Ferdinand the support of the Emperor as
suzerain of Lombardy against the French pretensions in Italy
generally, and especially in Naples, upon which the covetous eyes of
the Aragonese were already firmly fixed. The marriage of Ferdinand's
youngest daughter, Katharine, to the heir of England, at a somewhat
later period, was another link in the chain which was intended to bind
France, and give to Ferdinand a free hand in the Mediterranean.
To Maximilian the marriages of his children with those of Ferdinand
was also an advantage, since the only two enemies that the Empire and
Burgundy had to fear, namely, France and the Turk, might always be
diverted, when necessary, by the action of Aragon in the
Mediterranean. Henry Tudor's interest in joining the combination
against France is equally easy of explanation. He was a parvenu,
anxious for the recognition of the legitimate sovereigns; and
especially to secure that of Burgundy, which, under the influence of
Margaret of York, the widowed Duchess of Burgundy, had hitherto
supported and sheltered the pretenders to his throne. But from the
very first each of the three clever players distrusted the others
because he knew that he himself intended to cheat if he could, and
throughout the whole series of transactions sharp practice is the
gentlest term that can be applied to the action of the high
contracting parties.
The young people who were used by their parents as pieces on the
political chessboard were, of course, innocent, except the Archduke
Philip, who, as soon as he was able to take an independent hand in the
game, outdid his seniors in depravity; and, as usually happens in the
world, it was the innocent--Joanna the Mad, Katharine of Aragon, and
Margaret of Austria--who had to suffer the unhappiness caused by the
ambition and unscrupulousness of others. Of the three, Margaret was by
far the most fortunate, because she was stronger-minded and abler than
her sisters-in-law, and, after her early inexperienced youth, she was
worldly wise enough to look after her own interests. But even her life
was full of pathos and sacrifice, nobly and cheerfully borne, and of
heavy responsibility assumed serenely for the sake of the nephew whom
she reared so worthily and served so well.
Mrs. Tremayne in the pages of this book has dwelt fully upon the busy
later years of Margaret's life, drawing her information from many
sources, in some cases not previously utilised, and there is little
more to be told of these years than is here set forth. But it happens
that since this book was in print a series of hitherto unknown
documents of the highest interest have been printed for the first time
in Spanish by the Duke of Berwick and Alba, which throw many
sidelights upon Margaret's early widowhood, and upon her share in the
intrigues by which her brother, Philip, endeavoured to deprive his
father-in-law, Ferdinand, of the regency of Castile, after the death
of Isabella the Catholic. It is fair to say that, although on one or
two occasions Ferdinand's agents complained that Margaret favoured her
brother as against his unhappy, distraught wife, which, if true, was
quite natural, she generally appears throughout the documents in
question as a kindly, gentle mediatress, endeavouring to reconcile the
bitter feud that ended so tragically, and to safeguard the children
whom she loved and cared for tenderly when their father's death and
their mother's madness left them doubly orphaned.
The Fuensalida correspondence, to which reference has been made, opens
at the end of 1495, when the treaty for alliance and the double
marriages of Philip and Joanna, and John and Margaret, had just been
signed, and the instructions given by Ferdinand to the new ambassador,
Fuensalida, whom he sent to Germany to keep Maximilian up to the mark,
even thus early show the profound distrust which underlay the
ostensibly cordial alliance upon which double marriages were to set
the seal. 'What you have to do,' run the instructions, 'is to take
care to maintain the King of the Romans in his good will to carry
through these marriages... and to strive to get him to give in the
Milanese such aid and support as may be needed, declaring war against
the King of France, as we have done for his sake.'
Ferdinand knew that the surest pledge he could have of Maximilian's
effective co-operation would be the presence of Margaret in Spain,
especially if he could manage to get her into his possession before
his own daughter Joanna was sent to Flanders. 'If it be managed
without inconvenience we should like Madame Margaret to come hither as
soon as the betrothal is effected, before the Infanta our daughter
goes; immediately if the weather will permit.... It may be done as
follows. If at the time of the formal betrothal there are any ships
there belonging to our subjects, sufficient to bring the Archduchess
safely, the weather being fair, Rojas (_i.e._ Ferdinand's envoy in
Flanders) may take all such vessels at such freight as he can, to be
paid on their arrival here in Spain, and bring her in the fleet with
God's grace. Her coming thus would be safer, for she would arrive
before the affair was publicly known, and if it can be done you will
not delay for the Archduchess's trousseau, ornaments, and household
baggage, which can be sent afterwards.' But, continues the King of
Aragon, if it cannot be done, Joanna shall be sent in a Spanish fleet,
and Margaret can embark in it on its return to Spain. The careful
Ferdinand remarks in his instructions that he intended to send with
his daughter only eight ladies and the other attendants strictly
necessary, and although Maximilian was not to be told this in as many
words, he was to be persuaded to limit his daughter's household to
accompany her to Spain to the smallest possible proportions.
But Maximilian, who was as wary as Ferdinand, had no notion of
allowing his daughter to be sent to Spain before the Spanish Infanta
arrived in Flanders, and it was early in March of the year 1497 before
Margaret first set her foot on Spanish soil at Santander. Seven months
afterwards fate dealt its first crushing blow upon Ferdinand's plans,
and the bride, not yet eighteen, found herself a widow. She had become
greatly beloved in Spain, and Ferdinand and Isabel, especially the
latter, in the midst of their own grief, cherished the daughter-in-law
who might yet, they hoped, give them an heir to the crowns of Spain.
Ferdinand, in conveying (in December 1497) the news of his son's death
to his ambassador for the information of Maximilian, wrote: 'Tell him
that our distress has prevented us from sending him the news earlier,
and that our grief is increased by considerations for Princess
Margaret, although she tries very hard, as befits her, to bear her
trouble gently and wisely; and we try our best to console and please
her, endeavouring to make her forget her loss. Her pregnancy, thanks
be to God, goes on well, and we hope in His mercy that the result will
be a reparation and consolation for our trouble. We do, and will, take
as much care of the Princess as we would of her husband if he were
alive, and she will always fill the same place as he did in our
hearts.'
When this hope had fled, and Ferdinand and Isabella proclaimed their
eldest daughter, the Queen of Portugal, as their heir, Maximilian took
the matter very philosophically, as well he might, for it brought much
nearer the probability which Ferdinand had, as he thought, so cleverly
guarded against, that the House of Hapsburg might rule over the
greatest empire that had existed since the days of Alexander, and poor
little Aragon be swamped by its sovereign's larger interests. Margaret
had written to tell her father the dolorous news of her child's
still-birth, and Maximilian contented himself with sending a message
by his secretary to the Spanish ambassador, saying that although such
an event naturally caused him some sorrow, he, bearing in mind that it
was sent by God, for some good purpose of His own, accepted it without
complaint, and thanked the Almighty for all things. Bearing in mind,
moreover, that since Prince John himself had died, nothing that
happened could increase his grief, for his heart had no room for more
sorrow, he had decided to make no demonstration of mourning for the
present calamity, and not to suffer any to be made by others.
Margaret appears to have been really grateful to Isabella the Catholic
for her goodness to her in her trouble, for she wrote to her father in
February 1498, that the Queen had never left her, and had been so kind
that, considering the danger she, Margaret, had been in, she would
have died but for solicitude of Isabella. When Maximilian told this to
Fuensalida, the ambassador, of course by Ferdinand's orders, said it
was painful to speak yet of Margaret's remarriage, but as she was
young it was but natural that she would marry again. 'There is no
prince in Christendom whom she could marry,' replied Maximilian. 'The
King of Naples has no son of marriageable age; the King of England has
already betrothed his son to the daughter of the Catholic sovereigns;
the King of Scotland is a poor thing; the Duke of York (_i.e._ Perkin
Warbeck) is married, and not at liberty; the King of Hungary has a
wife already; the King of Poland is a nobody; so that there is no fit
husband for her. It is true that the King of France is talking of
repudiating his wife (_i.e._ Anne of Brittany), and marrying her to
Monsieur Louis with great dowries and states, whilst he keeps
Brittany, since he has lost hope of having children by her, and he
wants to marry my daughter Margaret. But I will not consent to this on
any account, nor would my daughter, for she has a great objection to
go to France. Besides, I know for a fact that the King of France
caused something to be given to her to bring on her miscarriage, and
tried to poison King Ferdinand as well; so that there is nothing to be
said about my daughter's marriage yet awhile.'
We may be quite sure that this hint that a French alliance was
possible for Margaret was intended to remind Ferdinand that he must be
careful not to offend his ally, and the ambassador urged very
earnestly in the name of his master that Margaret might be allowed to
stay in Spain until her remarriage was arranged: 'because whilst she
was with the King and Queen the King of France would be unable to work
his will with her, as he would have no opportunity of dealing in the
matter, he being on bad terms with the King and Queen; besides which
they would, in any case, refuse to listen to anything so shameful. But
if, on the other hand, the Princess (Margaret) were in any of these
States (_i.e._ Germany), the King of France might be able to push the
matter more warmly. Besides,' continued the ambassador, 'surely it
would be best to avoid the risk of bringing the Princess home by sea,
and the heavy expense that you (_i.e._ Maximilian) would have to incur
in fitting out a fleet for the purpose.' To all this, and much more to
the same effect, Maximilian replied but doubtfully. He knew full well
that whilst Ferdinand held so valuable a pledge as Margaret in his
hands he could always extort from his ally, her father, whatever he
thought fit, and Maximilian, with the matrimonial value of his
daughter in view, especially as the Spaniards knew that he was already
in full negotiation for peace with France over Ferdinand's head, could
only repeat that he must have his daughter back soon, though for the
moment the question was dropped.
When some months afterwards, in August 1498, Maximilian had made a
separate peace with France, much to Ferdinand's indignation, he
determined to bring Margaret home at any cost. Why, asked Fuensalida
of Maximilian, was he sending so important and unexpected an embassy
to Spain? 'I am sending for my daughter,' replied the King of the
Romans. 'If your Majesty means to bring her home at once,' exclaimed
the ambassador, 'you ought to have sent notice to my King and Queen,
and not bring away so great a princess as she is thus suddenly. In any
case she could not come until December.' 'I cannot wait so long as
that,' replied Maximilian. 'But,' objected the ambassador, 'she cannot
come before. It will take until September for your ambassadors to
reach Spain, and all October will be spent in getting ships ready, and
then another month for the Princess to join them, and perhaps even
two months; and then the season of the year will be unfit for any one
to go to sea, and the King and Queen will not like to expose the
Princess to such danger. Besides,' continued he, always ready to
appeal to Maximilian's parsimony, 'if your Majesty had given due
notice to my King and Queen you might have saved a great deal of
money, for they would have fitted out a fleet in which the Princess
might have come with all honour and safety; and even now, if your
Majesty will wait until March, I will do my best to arrange it in this
way, and you will not have to spend half so much money.'
But Maximilian knew the value of his daughter in his hands, and
replied roughly that he would not wait. He would have her safe home,
he said, before he began war again. 'If I send a single carrack from
Genoa, and the King and Queen give her a convoy of four barks, she
will come safe enough.' In vain the ambassador urged that corsairs and
Frenchmen could not be trusted, and that it was a slight for such a
princess to be sent home in so unceremonious a fashion. Maximilian was
obstinate; he would have his daughter Margaret home at once, no matter
at what risk. To add to his eagerness news came from Margaret herself,
brought by special messengers of her household, who had much to say of
the changed demeanour of the Spaniards, now that Maximilian had made a
separate peace. Fuensalida did his best by underhand means,
frightening the German ambassadors of the sea-voyage from Genoa to
Spain and back in the winter, and of the dreadful corsairs who
infested the Mediterranean, until they at last, really alarmed, begged
Maximilian in Fuensalida's presence to let them have a very big
carrack for their greater safety. Better send them by way of Flanders,
interposed the artful Fuensalida, knowing the long delay which such a
voyage would entail; but Maximilian angrily told him that he would do
nothing of the sort.
So effectually had the Spaniard frightened the landsmen ambassadors of
the sea that they themselves threw every possible obstacle in their
master's way, and told Fuensalida that, even though King Maximilian
ordered them to go and fetch the Princess Margaret before Christmas,
they would not do so. Come what might, they said, they would not put
to sea before Easter. They were not allowed, however, to delay quite
so long as that, for Maximilian was determined to have his daughter
out of the hands of Ferdinand, who he feared was making terms for
himself by offering her in marriage to the new King of France, Louis
XII. In writing to Margaret in September, her father, referring to his
and her own desire that she should return to Flanders or Germany, says
that 'no importunity nor pressure of any sort will move him from his
resolve to bring her back at once,' and he urges her to insist upon
her departure without loss of time.
Fortunately now, especially for the timid German ambassadors, the road
overland through France was open, and Margaret travelled in comfort
and safety to her home in Flanders early in 1499, to see Spain no
more. Thither, too, went soon afterwards the Spanish ambassador
Fuensalida, accredited especially to the Archduke Philip and his
Spanish wife Joanna, whose conduct was already profoundly grieving
Ferdinand and Isabella; and from Flanders the ambassador was to
proceed to England and pin Henry VII. down irrevocably to the marriage
of his son Arthur with Katharine. Already Ferdinand more than
suspected that Maximilian was playing him false, and forming a league
against him by negotiating Margaret's marriage with Arthur, Prince of
Wales, already betrothed more than once to the Spanish princess.
Fuensalida's mission was a delicate one; for Margaret's Flemish
household had come back from Spain full of complaints, and the Court
of Flanders was sharply divided by the partisans of Spain and Burgundy
respectively, of the Archduchess Joanna and her dissolute husband,
Philip. Margaret was to be conciliated as much as possible, and kept
in the Spanish interest. 'You will visit our daughter the Princess
Margaret,' wrote Ferdinand and Isabella to their envoy, 'and say that
we beseech her to let us know how she is after her long journey; for
we desire her health and welfare as that of our own daughter. For the
love we bear her we will do everything in our power most willingly to
aid and forward her settlement.' The envoy was also urged to
counteract the efforts of those who wished to make bad blood between
Flanders and Spain, and especially to enlist Margaret in favour of
poor Joanna, her sister-in-law.
Fuensalida followed hard on the heels of Henry VII. from St. Omer and
Calais to London, endeavouring by every means to discover how much
truth there was in the assertion that an arrangement had been
concluded to throw over Katharine of Aragon and marry the Prince of
Wales to Margaret as a result of the mysterious foregathering of the
King of England with the Archduke Philip. The story of Fuensalida's
successful though turbulent mission to England is told elsewhere;[1]
but on his return to Flanders he found Margaret in the deepest anxiety
with regard to her own affairs. Neither she nor Maximilian desired to
forward by her marriage in England the anti-Spanish combination of
England, France, and Flanders which Philip was planning; her dowry
from Spain was, as was natural with Ferdinand for a pay-master, in
arrear; and the coming voyage to Spain of Philip and Joanna at the
urgent summons of Ferdinand and Isabella, who hoped to win over the
Archduke, if possible, from his alliance with their enemies, was a
subject of the deepest concern to Margaret.
[1] _The Wives of Henry VIII._, by the present writer.
When Fuensalida first saw Margaret on his return to Brussels from
England, in August 1500, she welcomed him eagerly in the belief that
he brought some special message to her from Spain. He told her that
his mission was simply one of affection towards her, and she made no
attempt to hide her disappointment. The cause of her anxiety was soon
apparent. Fuensalida reported in the same letter that the bastard of
Savoy had been to see her secretly, and that she and her father,
Maximilian, had looked with favour upon the proposal of the Duke of
Savoy to marry her. Such a marriage was, of course, a blow, as it was
intended to be, against her brother Philip's anti-Spanish projects,
because not only did it leave Katharine of Aragon's marriage with the
Prince of Wales undisturbed, but it secured Savoy to the imperial and
Aragonese interests against France, which was of the highest
importance as touching the French designs upon Italy. Her marriage in
Savoy, moreover, was opposed strongly by Philip for another reason,
namely, that he would, in case it was effected, be obliged to hand to
his sister the domains belonging to Burgundy which had been bequeathed
to her by her mother; and in order to frustrate it Philip brought
forward the recently widowed King of Portugal as a fit husband for
Margaret, which would have secured her residence in a distant country,
and his continued occupation of her Burgundian inheritance.
Successive deaths had now made Philip and Joanna heirs of Spain, as
well as of Burgundy, Flanders, and the Empire; the Archduke was
already betrothing his infant son, Charles, the future King of
Castile, to a French princess, and his open negotiations for the
formation of a league against Ferdinand to assert Joanna's right to
assume the crown of Castile on the death of her mother Isabella, who
was in failing health, had fairly frightened Ferdinand, who knew not
whom to trust; for Castilians generally disliked him, and were
ready to acclaim Joanna and her foreign husband on the first
opportunity--Joanna herself was unstable, violently jealous of her
husband, and with strange notions as regarded religion. She would not
go to Spain alone, and Philip was determined not to go except on his
own terms, and at his own time, and Margaret, living in close contact
with the inharmonious pair, struggled bravely to reconcile the
clashing interests that surrounded her.
There was a talk of leaving her regent of Flanders in the absence of
her brother in Spain, and against this Ferdinand's agents were
instructed to work secretly; although Margaret lost no opportunity of
professing to the ambassador her attachment to Spanish interests. From
several remarks in Fuensalida's letters to Ferdinand it is, however,
evident that her desire was less to rule Flanders than to enjoy the
care of the infants whom her brother and sister-in-law were to leave
behind. But even this natural desire was opposed by the Spaniards;
apparently because the Princess was looked upon as being too ready to
follow her brother's lead. Writing in March 1501 of Philip's dissolute
life and his disaffection towards Spain, Fuensalida says: 'I am loath
to say how much Madam Margaret's good-nature encourages this, for she
simply follows her brother's fancies in all things.'
But the departure of Margaret from Flanders in August 1501 for her
marriage with the Duke of Savoy put an end for a time to her
pretensions to take charge of her brother's children; and when she
returned as a young widow early in 1505, the issue between Ferdinand
and his undutiful son-in-law was joined, for Isabella the Catholic was
dead, and Philip in right of his wife was arrogantly claiming, not
only the crown of Castile, but the entire control of its policy
against the wish of the great Queen just dead, whose last hours were
embittered by the dread that her beloved, her sacred, Castile, would
be ruled by a foreigner of doubtful orthodoxy. Philip was abetted in
his revolt against Ferdinand by the Castilian officers attached to him
who were jealous of Aragon, Don Juan Manuel, the principal Spanish
diplomatist of his time, being their leader and Philip's prime
adviser. As soon as Margaret arrived in her brother's Court both
factions tried to gain her. 'My lady,' Don Juan Manuel is represented
to have said to her on one occasion (June 1505), 'I shall be able to
serve you quite as effectively as Antonio de Fonseca when I am in
Castile and Treasurer-General'; and at this time, when Philip and his
friends were anticipating the rich booty they would gain in Castile,
whither they were bound to take possession of mad Joanna's
inheritance, Margaret was beset with offers of reward if she would
throw in her influence against King Ferdinand.
It is abundantly clear that she grieved at the unhappy state of
affairs. Ferdinand and his wife had been good to her in Spain, and
easy-going as she may have been, she must have seen her brother's
unworthiness and his bad treatment of Joanna; and yet it was neither
prudent nor natural that she should oppose Philip violently.
Fuensalida saw her in Bois le Duc in June 1505, whilst she was on her
way to Bourg, and discussed matters with her. 'She told me that she
had talked to her brother, and had asked him whether he would allow
her to mediate between him and your Highness (Ferdinand), and he had
answered, "No, you are still marriageable, and so is he, and I will
not have any such third person interposing between us." She told me
that her father and brother have made her swear that she will not
entertain any marriage without their consent. She really believes that
those who are around her brother have turned his head, and will not
let him make terms with your Highness.... She bids me tell your
Highness that she will continue to be as obedient a daughter to you as
she was when she was with you in Spain; and that she is going to her
own home now for no other reason than that she cannot bear to see in
silence the things that are going on, whereas if she spoke of them or
protested against them, evil would come of it. She prefers, therefore,
to go away, so that she may not witness them personally; for she sees
quite plainly that the destruction of her brother's and her father's
house will ensue. She prays your Highness to make use of her services
in any way you please, and she will do for you all that a good
daughter may. "Why not speak to Queen Joanna?" I said. "Because they
will not let me," she answered. I am told that Don Juan Manuel said to
her (Margaret), what is the use of your going to speak to a stone? You
might just as well speak to a stone as to the Queen.'
Margaret herself was determined not to be drawn into the shameful
intrigue by which her brother sought to supplant his wife and her
father in order to rule Castile himself and for his own pleasure; but
it is evident that no stone was left unturned to gain her, directly or
indirectly, by Don Juan Manuel and his friends. One of Margaret's
officers was a certain Monsieur Louis, to whom Manuel offered, 'that
if he would prevail upon his mistress to follow in all things the
wishes of King Philip, her brother, he would get the King to give to
Louis from the revenues of Castile an income equal to the highest
officer of his household. Louis, he said, knew Castile: let him look
about and choose any office or place he liked, and it should be
granted to him. Louis succumbed to this temptation; but the Duchess
(Margaret) heard of it, and never consented to speak to him again,
although he had been her most trusted servant.'
Through this wretched business, which ended in the triumph of
Ferdinand by the untimely death, probably by poison, of Philip in
Spain, and the lifelong incarceration of crazy Joanna, Margaret is the
only person who stands forth pure and unselfish. In the summer of
1505, when Philip and Joanna were about to start on their voyage to
Spain, Margaret set out for her own castle of Pont d'Ain, full of her
projects for building Brou; but just as she reached the frontier of
her brother's dominions she was stopped by the news that her little
nephew, Charles, was suffering from fever, and she determined to
retrace her steps to see the children again, and bid farewell once
more to unhappy Joanna.
From her quiet retreat in Bresse Margaret was summoned, on the death
of her brother, to rule the States, and care for the children whom he
had left behind, bereft of a mother's care by the lunacy of Joanna.
How nobly and self-sacrificingly she fulfilled her trust this book to
some extent will tell; but of all the sacrifices she made in her wise
and gentle life none was greater than the renunciation of her love,
perhaps the only love she ever experienced, for the handsome
Englishman who appears to have treated her so shabbily. For Charles
Brandon, though his King's first favourite and brother-in-law, hardly
played the game of love very fairly with Margaret. Kneeling at her
feet in sweet dalliance after the banquet at Tournai, he drew from her
finger, as lovers will, a ring, and placed it upon his own hand. In
gentle chiding she told him in French, and then in Flemish so like
English that he understood, that he was a thief. But soon she became
alarmed when she saw he meant to keep it for a pledge; for it was well
known and might compromise her; and she prayed him to restore it. 'But
he understood me not,' and only the intervention of Henry the King,
and a promise of a bracelet of hers in exchange, made Charles Brandon
give up his capture. But not for long; for again on his knees before
the Princess at Lille soon afterwards, he took the ring a second time,
and all the entreaties of the lady were unavailing to obtain its
restoration, though a ring of far greater value was given to her in
exchange, with all sorts of imprudent, perhaps not more than
half-serious, promises on both sides never to marry without the
consent of the other. Margaret, as she pathetically says, had never
any intention of marrying at all, so unhappy had she been in her
previous marriages: but at all events she hid Brandon's ring in her
bosom, unseen by the world, and cherished the secret of her little
love passage. Not so King Henry's flamboyant favourite, who made no
concealment of his conquest, and vaunted the possession of the jewel,
though faithful Margaret could not believe it of him: 'for I esteem
him much a man of virtue and wise.'
The sad little romance presents Margaret as a dignified great lady,
who for one short space allowed herself to be simply a trustful woman
in love, only to find that to such as she duty must be paramount over
the promptings of the heart, and that a wooer, though he may be a
duke, is not always a gentleman. Thenceforward, for many years,
Margaret's life was that of a wise Vice-Regent for the Emperor whom
she had reared from his childhood; until death relieved her from the
task to which she devoted the best of her life. She died in harness,
defrauded of an old age of refined leisure, to which she had looked
forward, deprived even of a sight of the splendid church which is her
own worthy tomb and monument; but it was perhaps most fitting that she
should fall in the plenitude of her powers, leaving her beloved nephew
the undisputed sovereign of the greatest dominion in the world, at
peace with all Christendom, thanks largely to her efforts; and that
she should go down to posterity remembered mainly as the first and
noblest of the women of her imperial race who bore the title of
Governess of the Netherlands.
MARTIN HUME
THE FIRST GOVERNESS OF THE NETHERLANDS
MARGARET OF AUSTRIA
CHAPTER I
QUEEN OF FRANCE
In the year 1491 an interview took place in the little town of Baugy
in Poitou, between a youth of twenty-one and a girl of twelve. The
fate of more than one kingdom was involved in this farewell meeting
between two playfellows who had been companions and friends for nearly
nine years. The youth had tears in his eyes as he hesitatingly made
his excuses and unfolded his plan. He told his fair-haired companion
that though he loved her with all his heart, yet he had made up his
mind to send her back to her father, who had often expressed the wish
to have her with him. The little maiden listened to her youthful
husband's repudiation of his marriage vows with calm dignity, but when
he continued to make excuses for his conduct she stopped him, saying
with much spirit, 'that by reason of her youth, those who had counted
on her fortune could never say or suspect that this had come upon her
through any fault of her own.' The slight thus inflicted, the girl
never forgot; and when years later she became Governess of the
Netherlands, France knew no greater enemy than Margaret of Austria,
former Queen of France.
Margaret was born at Brussels[2] on January 10th, 1480, and baptized
in Saint Gudule. Her godparents were Philippe de Ravenstein, Jean de
Châlons, Prince of Orange, and Margaret of York, sister of Edward IV.,
King of England, third wife of Charles the Bold.
[2] Not Ghent, as some historians say.
Margaret was the only daughter of the Archduke Maximilian, afterwards
King of the Romans, and Emperor of Germany, by Mary of Burgundy, only
daughter and heiress of Charles, Duke of Burgundy, surnamed the Bold.
When Margaret was barely two years old her mother died from the
effects of a fall from a horse at the age of twenty-five, leaving two
children, Philip (born 22nd July 1478) and Margaret. The Flemish
States, discontented with Maximilian's rule, claimed their ancient
right to educate his children, but in accordance with the terms of a
treaty of peace signed at Arras between Louis XI. and the Archduke in
the year 1483, Margaret was betrothed to the Dauphin Charles,
afterwards Charles VIII., and was sent to France to be brought up and
educated with the French princes. On the 2nd of June 1483, at the age
of three, she made her entry into Paris amidst transports of joy, at
the conclusion of the peace of which her presence was the pledge. 'And
in honour of my said lady Margaret, who from henceforth was called
Dauphine, the streets were decorated, and many people rejoiced.'[3]
Louis XI. did not appear at these fêtes; he contented himself with
secretly rejoicing over the successful issue of his cunning policy, an
issue which would mean, as he foresaw, the downfall of the powerful
house of Burgundy.
[3] _Mer des Histoires_, Liv. III.
Margaret's dowry was a large one, consisting of Burgundy, the county
of Artois, and the territories of Macon, Salins, Bar-sur-Seine, and
Noyers. The ceremony of betrothal took place at Amboise with great
pomp in presence of a numerous gathering assembled in the public
square.
Charles, aged twelve, declared that he consented to take the
three-year-old Margaret as his wife. The religious ceremony was
performed the same day in the lower church of the castle, in presence
of the lords and ladies of Beaujeu, of the Sire de la Trémouille, the
Counts of Dunois, d'Albret, and many deputies from the provincial
towns. The Dauphin, clothed in a robe of white damask lined with black
velvet, married the little princess, and placed a ring upon her tiny
finger. A mass was said, and a sermon preached by the Abbé of Saint
Bertain, who compared this marriage to that of King Ahasuerus and
Queen Esther; after which the Dauphin thanked all those who were
present.
Two months later Louis XI. died (30th August 1483), leaving his
kingdom to his son Charles, and appointing his favourite daughter,
Anne de Beaujeu, as Regent. From the time of Louis' death Margaret was
treated as queen, and given the honours due to her rank. Her childhood
passed peacefully at Amboise, where she became the pet and plaything
of her youthful husband, and of his cousin Louis, Duke of Orleans. It
would be interesting to know the story of Margaret's life during the
nine or ten years she was under the guardianship of Anne de Beaujeu.
Charles's mother, the poor Queen Charlotte of Savoy, died soon after
her eldest son's marriage, leaving the education of the young couple
to the Regent Anne, whose vigorous intellect was not satisfied with
ruling the kingdom of France for her brother. She read a great deal,
early fathers, philosophers, moralists and poets, and selected
romances for the young people under her charge. Her library contained
three hundred and fourteen volumes, some of which are noted in the
catalogue as being covered with red velvet, and ornamented with
clasps, bosses, and corner pieces of metal.
If it is true that the first years of life, early education and
precepts, influence the rest of existence, then Margaret must have had
a very careful bringing up at the French Court, to judge from the
marked talents, wisdom, and prudence she displayed in later years.
Amongst her companions at the castle of Amboise we find Louise of
Savoy, her senior by three years. Louise (the mother of Francis I.)
was the daughter of the Sieur de Bresse and Margaret of Bourbon, and
sister of Philibert II., Duke of Savoy, Margaret's future husband.
Louise was a niece of Anne de Beaujeu's, and appears to have been
treated as a poor relation, 'only receiving eighty francs at the New
Year with which to buy herself a crimson satin dress for state
occasions.' Anne's sickly little daughter, Susan, must also have been
one of Margaret's younger playfellows.
The Lady of Beaujeu was devoted to hunting, and she hunted, we are
told, 'coldly and methodically, with her own eyes examining the trail,
and giving the word to hark forward, setting off with her hounds, and
skilfully handling her hunting-spear. She probably encouraged this
sport amongst her young companions, for we learn in after years that
Margaret was a great huntress, and very proud of her stuffed wolves'
heads.' Unhappily, no detailed account exists of Margaret's childhood
in France, but from what we know of her life at Amboise she seems to
have been a bright and lively child, with a marvellously fair
complexion, golden hair and soft brown eyes, making many friends, with
a gift for repartee and a strong sense of humour, which probably
helped her to bear the many sorrows of her later life.
Years after, when Louis of Orleans was King of France, he refers in
his letters to Margaret to their happy youth at Amboise when 'she was
the second person he loved best in the world; that he desires above
all things to embrace his cousin, his vassal, his first mistress, to
remind her of their childish games, and after having made her blush by
his compliments, to swear eternal love for her.'
In 1488 Francis II., Duke of Brittany, died, leaving only two
daughters, Anne and Isabel. The latter did not long survive her
father, but dying in August 1491 at the age of twelve, left her sister
Anne sole possessor of the important duchy of Brittany. As early as
1480 Duke Francis had tried to arrange a marriage between his daughter
Anne, or failing her, her younger sister Isabel, and the eldest son of
Edward IV., King of England, but these plans were frustrated by the
young prince's murder in the Tower of London.
Negotiations were then begun for an alliance with Maximilian, Duke of
Austria, but were postponed owing to the princess's extreme youth.
Amongst foreign alliances this seemed the most advantageous, although
it offered no guarantee for the independence and maintenance of
Brittany's nationality. The best way to ensure this independence would
have been to marry Anne to one of the nobles of her own country chosen
from amongst those who had pretensions to the ducal crown. These were
three in number: John of Châlons, Prince of Orange, a son of one of
Duke Francis II.'s sisters; John, Viscount de Rohan, who had married
Mary, daughter of Duke Francis I., who claimed to be the direct
descendant of Conan Mériadec, first King of Brittany; and Alain
d'Albret, husband of a great-granddaughter of Joan the Lame. When
Francis II. died, only the last of these three was a widower, and he
was an unsuitable husband for a princess of thirteen, being more than
forty-five years of age, and the father of eight children.
The Lords of her Council advised the young duchess to marry Maximilian
of Austria, King of the Romans, and Anne, who was just entering her
fourteenth year, agreed to this union. The preliminary negotiations
for the marriage were arranged with the greatest secrecy in March
1490. Maximilian sent the Count of Nassau, Marshal Polhain, Jacques de
Codebault, his secretary, and his steward, Louppian, to Brittany to
negotiate matters, and arrange the betrothal. A few days after, so
secretly that the day is not known, this ceremony took place according
to German custom. In order to make the marriage indissoluble, says
Legendre, and to give it the appearance of a consummated marriage, the
Count of Nassau (others say it was the handsome Polhain, Maximilian's
favourite), who had married Anne in his master's name, put his leg
bared to the knee into the bride's bed in presence of the lords and
ladies who were nominated as witnesses. When the details of this
ceremony were divulged they caused great derision amongst the Bretons
and French, who ridiculed a custom so different from their own. This
marriage was a flagrant violation of the last treaty with France, for
Charles VIII., whose ward the young duchess was, had not been
consulted. As soon as he received information of the fact, he sent his
troops into Brittany, and penetrated farther and farther into that
country, and Nantes was taken almost without a struggle by Alain
d'Albret. In the first days of the year 1491 Charles VIII.,
accompanied by the Count of Dunois, Louis, Duke of Orleans, and the
Lady of Beaujeu, joined his army in Brittany. The king held his Court
at Nantes, and did his utmost to insinuate himself into the good
graces of the inhabitants.
Anne, at the head of a small army under her tutor, the Marshal de
Rieux, vainly tried to struggle against the French invaders. After
many skirmishes, de Rieux obliged the French to retire to lower
Brittany, until he received reinforcements from England. Anne showed a
courage beyond her years and worthy of better success. She took refuge
at last in the town of Rennes with her uncle the Prince of Orange,
Marshal Polhain, and several faithful nobles, having only 14,000 men
to defend her, principally English archers, Germans, and Spaniards,
sent by her husband, the King of the Romans.
In 1491 the French laid siege to the town. Charles gradually drew his
lines closer and closer; lack of food and money began to be felt in
the beleaguered city. Charles offered the duchess 100,000 crowns a
year if she would renounce the Government of Brittany, and choose any
dwelling-place she pleased except the towns of Rennes and Nantes; he
also suggested the choice of three husbands, either Louis of
Luxembourg, the Duke of Nemours, or the Count of Angoulême.
Anne replied that she was married to the King of the Romans, and that
if he refused to have her, she still would consider herself his wife,
and would never be the wife of another. Should Maximilian die, and
she be in a position to remarry, she would only marry a king or the
son of a king.
Charles, convinced of her obstinacy, then tried to induce her garrison
to desert. Being chiefly mercenary troops they succumbed to persistent
bribery, and marched out of the town, leaving it free for him to
enter. After taking possession he made a new proposition to the
duchess, namely, to renounce for ever all rights to the duchy of
Brittany excepting an allowance of £100,000 a year, and retire to the
King of the Romans, whom she looked upon as her husband.
Towards the end of the siege of Rennes, Anne's youngest sister,
Isabel, died in the town on the 24th August 1491. By her death in her
twelfth year Anne was left sole heiress of the largest duchy in
Europe. This was too attractive a bait for Charles's ambition, and he
made up his mind to break his marriage with his old playfellow
Margaret, and to do all in his power to make Anne accept him as her
husband.
It is no wonder that the young Duchess of Brittany or rather her
advisers were in no hurry to reply to Charles's last monstrous
proposition. After waiting some time he again tried a new plan, and,
partly by threats and partly by promises, persuaded her advisers to
work on their young mistress's mind in such a way as to bring her to
think more kindly of him. Her uncle, Prince of Orange, Marshal de
Rieux, Montauban, Chancellor of Brittany, and her governess, Frances
of Dinan, talked so much on the subject, that by degrees they got her
slightly to change her mind. It was no wonder that Anne felt a great
repugnance for Charles, who for three years had carried on war against
her, ruining her lands, and under pretext of being her lawful
protector trying to take her prisoner. For several days her
councillors, won over by Charles, endeavoured to bring her to reason,
without success; but at last her governess had recourse to her
confessor, who persuaded her that God and the Church ordained that she
should make this sacrifice for the sake of peace and the good of her
country.
Charles, under pretence of a pilgrimage, went with all his Court to
the chapel of Our Lady situated near the gates of Rennes. After
performing his religious duties he suddenly entered the town,
accompanied by his sister, Anne de Beaujeu, Count Dunois, and a
hundred men-at-arms and fifty archers of the guard. The next day he
paid a visit to the young duchess, and had a long interview with her.
Three days later their betrothal was celebrated in the chapel of Our
Lady in presence of the Duke of Orleans, Count Dunois, and Anne de
Beaujeu on one side; the Chancellor of Brittany, the Prince of Orange,
and several nobles devoted to the duchess on the other.
Marshal Wolfgang de Polhain, instructed by Maximilian to betroth Anne
to his master, heard a rumour of this hasty alliance. He questioned
the French and Breton nobles, but they refused to give him an answer.
A few days later he was invited to the marriage ceremony which had
been arranged to take place in the castle of Langeais in Touraine.
Polhain refused to attend, and hastened to Malines to give Maximilian
an account of these proceedings.
This sudden marriage caused great astonishment throughout Europe. How
could people believe that the young duchess, then in her fourteenth
year, and well able to understand the importance of her acts, had
consented to marry a king who for years had made war against her and
despoiled her of her heritage! Besides it was well known that since
the Treaty of Arras in 1483 Charles had been affianced to Maximilian's
daughter, Margaret of Austria.
The rumour got about that the Duchess Anne had been forced into the
marriage. The Pope believed this, and in granting the dispensation
which was only asked for after the marriage had taken place, he
formally announced that he would only confirm this union if it could
be proved that it had not been brought about by force. Anne herself
undertook to refute this calumny by declaring before an ecclesiastical
commission that she had suffered no violence, and that she had gone to
Langeais of her own free will to marry Charles.
In the marriage contract a clause was inserted to the effect that
should Anne survive Charles, without children, she could only remarry
with his successor. Thus was the duchy of Brittany secured to the
crown of France, and the king's ambitious scheme realised to
Margaret's mortification.
Mézerai tells us that 'a double dispensation was necessary, first to
annul Charles's marriage with Margaret, and secondly to free Anne from
her contract with Maximilian. The marriages not having been
consummated, the Court of Rome did not make any great difficulty.'
When Maximilian heard that his affianced bride had become the wife of
Charles VIII., and that his daughter was about to be returned to him
despoiled of her title of Queen of France, he made all the Courts of
Europe ring with his complaints. War began again and lasted for two
years. In 1493 peace was restored by the Treaty of Senlis, concluded
between Charles and Maximilian. The King of the Romans renounced the
title of Duke of Brittany, and was put in possession of the whole
duchy of Burgundy as well as the Franche Comté, and Artois, which had
been included in Margaret's dowry.
If we are to believe Pasquier, Margaret had a foreboding of her
misfortune before these events took place. One day whilst walking in
the garden at Amboise, her ladies and gentlemen noticed that she
seemed very melancholy, and one of them asked her the reason. She
replied that she had had a strange dream, which she could not forget,
for she believed it boded ill. In her dream she thought she was in a
large park, and saw a marguerite (daisy) which she was told to watch;
whilst she gazed at the flower, a donkey came and tried to eat it; she
kept him off as long as she could, but at last he seized and devoured
it. This troubled her so much that she woke with a start, and the
dream still weighed upon her mind.
No one then anticipated what ultimately happened, but afterwards this
quaint dream was looked upon as a forecast of Margaret's broken
marriage. Curiously enough her dismissal had been provided for by
Louis XI. at the time of the Treaty of Arras, as the following clause
in the treaty will show. 'If it should happen (which God forbid) that
my said Lady Margaret being of age, my said Lord the Dauphin should
not proceed to the perfect consummation of the said marriage, or that
the said marriage should be broken by the king, Monseigneur the
Dauphin, or others on their part, during the minority of the young
lady or after; in which case, my said lady shall be sent at the
king's expense or at that of my said Lord the Dauphin, back to my said
Lord the Duke her father, or the Duke Philip her brother, frankly and
fully discharged of all bonds of marriage and all other obligations,
to one of the good towns in the territories of Brabant, Flanders, or
Hainault, to a safe place acknowledging obedience to the said Dukes.'
But Margaret remained in France for two years after Charles's marriage
with Anne of Brittany, which took place on December 6th, 1491.
Neglected by her father, and kept as a sort of hostage until the Peace
of Senlis was signed, she passed her time in seclusion. 'When the king
had restored peace to Brittany, he returned to France, and gave orders
that Madam Margaret of Flanders should retire to the castle of Melun
on the river Seine, and take with her the Princess of Tarente'; here
she remained for more than a year. An interesting letter written by
Margaret to Anne de Beaujeu from Melun has fortunately been preserved.
In it she requests that her cousin might not be taken away from her,
although the king has ordered her to leave, and mentioning that Madame
de Molitart has told her that she is to be better treated than
formerly:--[4]
'Madame ma bonne tante, il faut bien que je me plaigne à vous
comme à celle en qui j'ay mon espérance, de ma cousine que l'on
m'a voulu oster, qui est tout le passe-temps que j'ay, et quand
je l'auray perdue je ne scay plus que je feray. Parquoi je vous
prie que veuillez tenir la main pour moy qu'elle ne me soit
ostée, car plus grand déplaisir ne me scauroit-on faire.
Lachault est venu qui a apporté lettres adressantes à madite
cousine, par lesquelles le Roy lui escrivoit qu'elle s'en
allast; toutefois je ne l'ay pas voulu souffrir, jusques à ce
que vous en eusse advertie, en espérant que m'y seriez en aide,
comme j'ay en cela et en autre chose ma parfaite fiance, vous
priant, Madame ma bonne tante, que quelque part que je soye ne
parte point de vostre bonne grâce, car toujours en aurai-je
besoin, à laquelle bien fort me veut recommander. Madame de
Molitart m'a dit que voulais que je sois mieux traitée que je ne
fus oncques, qui est une chose qui m'a fort réjouie, puisque
avez encore souvenance de moy, vous disant adieu, Madame ma
bonne tante, que je prie qu'il vous doint le plus aimé de vos
désirs. Escrit à Melun, le dix-septième jour de Mars. Vostre
bonne humble et léable nièce Marguerite.
'_A Madame ma bonne tante._'
[4] Quoted by Denis Godefroi in his _Life of Charles VIII._
[Illustration: PHILIPPE LE BEL AND HIS SISTER MARGARET OF AUSTRIA
(PANEL)
PHILIPPE AGED 16 MARGARET AGED 14
IMPERIAL MUSEUM, VIENNA]
Jean le Maire relates that the autumn of 1491 was very cold and the
grapes did not ripen. One day when Margaret was at table she
overheard the gentlemen of her suite discussing this fact, and with
a play on the words remarked sadly that it was not surprising if the
vines (_sarments de vigne_) were green this year, as vows
(_serments_) were of no value (referring to the king's broken word).
Before Margaret left France she was made to swear on the Cross and
the Gospels that she would renounce for ever all pretensions to her
marriage with Charles. At last she set out on her long journey back
to Flanders. Charles took care that she was treated with every
respect. Anne of Brittany showed her great sympathy, and tried by
all means in her power to make Margaret forget her mortification. At
the moment of departure Anne ordered Jeanne de Jambes, her most
skilful maid of honour, to make an embroidered coif to offer the
princess, as well as some gold ornaments, the whole valued at the
large sum of £450.[5]
[5] 'A Jehanne de Jambes, dame de Beaumont, damoiselle de lad.
dame, la somme de deux cent cinquante livres tournoys, à elle
ordonnée par icelle dame pour la recompenser d'une bordure
d'habillement de teste et autres bagues d'or pesans pareille
somme de quatres cent cinquante livres tournoys que icelle dame a
de luy prinses dès le moys de may derrenier passé, pour envoyer à
Madame Margaret d'Autriche, obmys à compter au roole dud. moys.
Laquelle somme, etc.' (_Argenter de la Reine. Arch. Imp._)
The French nobles who had been attached to Margaret's person for
nearly twelve years accompanied her on her journey. The little
princess was calm, but she bore a grudge against France which she
never forgot, and which is noticeable in all her later dealings with
her first husband's kingdom. When she passed through the town of Arras
the citizens cried, 'Noël, Noël,' a French cry that annoyed Margaret;
she called back to them, 'Do not cry Noël, but long live Burgundy!'
Thus she was escorted to St. Quentin, from thence to Cambray,
Valenciennes, and finally to Malines, where she was received by her
brother Philip and by Margaret of York, the widow of her grandfather,
Charles the Bold. 'When she alighted from her litter near a mill by a
small stream which divided the royal and archducal dwelling, she
thanked the said lords and ladies who had brought and accompanied her,
begging them all to recommend her very humbly to the king their
master, bearing no ill-will because of his separation from her,
believing that marriages ought to be voluntary.'
However, Margaret always showed great regard for Anne of Brittany, and
even more so when the queen married Louis XII. The documents of the
period abound in exchange of civilities between the princesses. Thus
ended Margaret's first matrimonial adventure. Her former husband did
not long survive his marriage with Anne, but died almost suddenly in
April 1498, and left no children. His widow fulfilled the clause in
her marriage contract, and married his successor, who ascended the
throne as Louis XII.