PRINCESS OF ASTURIAS
Charles VIII. was hardly free from his sister's tutelage when he
dreamt of conquering the kingdom of Naples, which he claimed as heir
to the house of Anjou. An embassy which he received from Ludovico
Sforza, afterwards Duke of Milan, made him the more determined to
carry out this project.
By the Treaty of Barcelona (January 1493) Charles had agreed to
restore to Ferdinand of Aragon the counties of Roussillon and Cerdagne
in return for Ferdinand's assurance that he would leave him a free
hand in Italy and elsewhere, and would not form matrimonial alliances
with the houses of England, Austria, or Naples; but when, in 1494,
Charles informed Ferdinand of his intentions against Naples, and
claimed his aid in accordance with the treaty, the King of Aragon
pretended to be shocked and surprised, and quietly set to work to
circumvent his plans and to side with his enemies.
On the 10th of July 1494 the Duke of Orleans crossed the Alps with the
advance guard of the French army. Charles soon followed, and was
received with great honour by Ludovico Sforza and the Duke of Ferrara.
After crossing Italy in triumph, he arrived at Naples without having
broken a single lance, and made a solemn entry into the town, whilst
the King of Naples, abandoned by his subjects and betrayed by his
generals, fled to Sicily.
But in the midst of his triumphs Charles learned, through the
historian Commines, his ambassador in Venice, of the perfidy of his
allies and of the new league that was formed against him by Henry VII.
of England, Ferdinand of Aragon, Maximilian (recently elected emperor
after the death of his father), the Pope Alexander VI., the Republic
of Venice, and the Duke of Milan. All these confederates combined in a
common interest to drive the French out of Italy, and to attack France
from different sides at the same time.
'The ambitious schemes of Charles VIII. established a community of
interests among the great European states, such as had never before
existed, or at least been understood; and the intimate relations thus
introduced naturally led to intermarriages between the principal
powers, who until this period seemed to have been severed almost as
far asunder as if oceans had rolled between them.... It was while
Charles VIII. was wasting his time at Naples that the marriages were
arranged between the royal houses of Spain and Austria, by which the
weight of these great powers was thrown into the same scale, and the
balance of Europe unsettled for the greater part of the following
century.
'The Treaty of Venice provided that Prince John, the heir of the
Spanish monarchies, then in his eighteenth year, should be united with
the Princess Margaret, daughter of the Emperor Maximilian, and that
the Archduke Philip, his son and heir, and sovereign of the Low
Countries in his mother's right, should marry Joanna, second daughter
of Ferdinand and Isabella. No dowry was to be required with either
princess.'[6]
[6] Prescott, _Ferdinand and Isabella_.
The conditions of this double marriage were drawn up by Francisco de
Rojas, sent to Flanders by Ferdinand and Isabella for this purpose.
The proposals were agreed to by both sides, and it was arranged that
the fleet which brought Joanna of Castile to Flanders should carry
Margaret of Austria to Spain.
The following amusing anecdote is from Zurita, and mentioned in A. R.
Villa's _Life of Doña Juana la Loca_. Francisco de Rojas, who was
chosen by Isabella to marry Margaret by proxy, was presented with a
brocade garment by Antonio de Valle on his arrival in Flanders, and
was told that he must see that he was tidy at the ceremony of
betrothal, as according to the German custom he would have to undress
as far as his doublet and hose. This he promised to do, but when he
came to remove his coat, it was seen that his shirt protruded from his
hose at the back. This carelessness caused him to be much teased by
the courtiers, who with difficulty concealed their smiles at the time.
By the end of the summer in 1496 a fleet, consisting of one hundred
and thirty vessels, large and small, strongly manned and thoroughly
equipped, was got ready for sea in the ports of Guipuzcoa and Biscay.
The whole was placed under the command of Don Fadrique Enriquez,
Admiral of Castile, who carried with him a splendid array of chivalry.
A more gallant and beautiful Armada never before quitted the shores of
Spain. The Infanta Joanna, attended by a numerous suite, embarked
towards the end of August at the port of Laredo, on the eastern
borders of Asturias, where she bade farewell to her mother, Queen
Isabella, who travelled through Spain to take leave of her
seventeen-year-old daughter. On August the 20th the queen wrote to
Doctor de Puebla (Ferdinand's envoy in England) from Laredo to inform
him that the fleet that was taking her daughter to Flanders, and
bringing the Infanta Margaret to Spain, was to sail the next day. 'If
they should enter an English port, she hopes that they will be treated
in England as though they were the daughters of Henry VII.
himself.'[7] The queen also addressed a letter to the King of England
begging for the same favours. A navy of fifteen thousand armed men was
needed to escort the bride to Flanders and bring back Prince John's
betrothed to Spain. For two nights after the embarkation Isabella
slept on the ship with her daughter, and when at last the fleet sailed
on August 22nd, she turned her back on the sea, and rode with a heavy
heart back to Burgos.
[7] _Calendar of Spanish State Papers_, vol. i.
The weather soon after Joanna's departure became extremely
tempestuous, and the poor princess had a terrible voyage; her fleet
was driven into Portland, and one of the largest ships came into
collision and foundered. But this was not the end of her troubles, for
on the Flemish coast another great ship was wrecked, with most of her
household, trousseau, and jewels. Several vessels were lost, and many
of her attendants perished from the hardships they had to endure,
amongst them the old Bishop of Jaen, who had accompanied her to give
state and dignity to her suite. Eventually the whole fleet arrived at
Ramua, sorely disabled and needing a long delay for refitting before
it could return to Spain.[8] Soon after her arrival in Flanders her
marriage with the Archduke Philip was celebrated with much pomp at
Lille. At a tournament given in her honour at Brussels, three knights
wearing her colours entered the lists and fought against three of
Margaret's knights; the latter were dressed in white, and wore
'marguerites' embroidered as their badge. Philip neglected and
ill-treated his wife's countrymen to the extent of allowing nine
thousand of the men on the fleet at Antwerp to die from cold and
privation, without trying to help them; his young wife's Spanish
household were unpaid, and even the income settled upon her by Philip
was withheld, on the pretext that Ferdinand had not fulfilled his part
of the bargain agreed upon in the marriage settlements.
[8] Martin Hume, _Queens of Old Spain_.
The fleet was detained until the following winter to carry the
destined bride of the young Prince of Asturias to Spain. Margaret was
now in her eighteenth year, and already distinguished for those
intellectual qualities which made her later one of the most remarkable
women of her time. She must have been a lovely girl, tall and fair,
with masses of waving golden hair, a brilliant complexion, soft brown
eyes, and a rather long narrow face, with the full under-lip so
peculiar to the house of Austria. It is no wonder that Prince John
fell in love with her, or that his parents welcomed her with
admiration. In the spring of 1497 Margaret left Flushing and started
on her long journey to Spain. She had an even worse voyage than her
sister-in-law. A fearful storm arose, and her vessel was nearly
wrecked. When the tempest had somewhat subsided, she and her
companions amused themselves with each writing her own epitaph.
Margaret composed the following well-known distich, which she bound to
her arm for identification, and jokingly said might be engraved on
her tomb, in case her body should be washed ashore:--
'Cy gist Margot la gentil' Damoiselle,
Qu' ha deux marys et encor est pucelle.'
Fortunately this witty epitaph was not needed. The fleet passed the
English Channel in the beginning of February, and was compelled
through stress of weather to take refuge in the harbour of
Southampton. On February the 3rd Henry VII. wrote the following letter
to the Princess Margaret:--
'Most illustrious and most excellent Princess, our dearest and
most beloved cousin,--With all our heart we send to greet you,
and to recommend ourself. We have received through the most
renowned, most prudent, and most discreet ambassador of our most
beloved cousins the King and Queen of Spain, at our Court, the
letters of the admiral and ambassador of the said King and
Queen, who accompany your Excellence. By them we are informed
that your Highness, enjoying the best of health, has entered
with your whole fleet and suite our harbour of Southampton. Our
subjects of that neighbourhood had already communicated to us
the arrival of your Highness. As soon as we heard of it, we sent
our well-beloved and trustworthy vassals and servants, the
seneschal of our palace, and Sir Charles Somerset, our captain
and guardian of our body, and also a doctor _utriusque juris_,
and keeper of our Privy Seal, to see, visit, and consult you in
our name, and to tell you how agreeable and delightful to us was
the arrival of your Excellence in our dominions, especially as
it has pleased God to give you and your company (to whom we
recommend ourself likewise) good health and cheerful spirits.
Our servants are to place at your disposal our person, our
realm, and all that is to be found in it. They are to provide
you with whatever you wish, and serve and obey you as ourself.
You will more fully learn our intentions from them and from the
letters of the Spanish ambassador who resides at our Court.'
The following is in the king's handwriting:--
'Dearest and most beloved cousin,--Desirous the more to assure
your Excellence that your visit to us and to our realm is so
agreeable and delightful to us, that the arrival of our own
daughter could not give us greater joy, we write this portion of
our letter with our own hand, in order to be able the better to
express to you that you are very welcome, and that you may more
perfectly understand our good wishes. We most earnestly entreat
and beseech your Highness, from the bottom of our heart, to be
as cheerful as though you were with the dearest and most beloved
King and Queen of Spain, our cousins, and that you will stay in
whatever part of our realms as cheerfully and without fear as
though you were in Spain. In all and everything you want, do not
spare us and our realms, for you will render us a great and most
acceptable service by accepting anything from us.--Palace,
Westminster, 3rd February.'[9]
[9] _Calendar of Spanish State Papers_, vol. i.
The king then begs her to stay at Southampton, and even offers to pay
her a visit there:--
'Most illustrious and most excellent Princess, our most noble
and most beloved cousin,--We have received to-day the letter of
the 2nd instant, which your Highness has written from the
harbour of Southampton, and are much pleased with it. We are
also very glad to learn the good news contained in your letter
and the letter of the illustrious ambassador, whom our dearest
cousins, the King and Queen of Spain, your most pious parents,
have ordered to accompany you. He informs us of your prosperity
and good success. We, on our part, have sent to inform you of
our inviolable friendship, and to tell you how agreeable in
every respect your arrival in our harbour has been to us. On
Friday we sent you our servants and domestics, with injunctions
to serve you in the same way as they serve ourselves; and a
short time after they had left we wrote to your Excellence a
letter with our own hand, to give you a hearty welcome in our
harbour. We beseech you to have a cheerful face and a glad
heart, to be happy and enjoy yourself as safely as though you
were our own daughter, or had already reached the dominions of
our said cousins the King and Queen of Spain, your pious
parents. We pray your Highness, with all our heart, to dispose
of us and of everything that is to be found in our realms, and
to spare us in nothing, even if the thing is not to be had in
our dominions, and to order any service which we are able to
execute. For, by doing so, you will bestow on us a signal and
most acceptable favour. As we hear that the wind is contrary to
the continuation of your voyage, wishing that your Highness
would repose and rest, our advice is, that you take lodgings in
our said town of Southampton, and remain there until the wind
becomes favourable and the weather clears up. We believe that
the movement and the roaring of the sea is disagreeable to your
Highness and to the ladies who accompany you. If you accept our
proposal, and remain so long in our said town of Southampton
that we can be informed of it, and have time to go and to see
you before your departure, we certainly will go and pay your
Highness a visit. In a personal communication we could best open
our mind to you, and tell you how much we are delighted that you
have safely arrived in our port, and how glad we are that the
(friendship) with you and our dearest cousins the King and Queen
of Spain, your most benign parents, is increasing from day to
day. We desire to communicate to you in the best manner our
news, and to hear from you of your welfare. May your Highness be
as well and as happy as we wish.--From our Palace of
Westminster.... February.'[10]
[10] _Calendar of Spanish State Papers_, vol. i.
We have no account of Margaret's accepting Henry's invitation, or of
their meeting at this time. After these various adventures the
princess at length arrived safely at the port of Santander in the
early days of March 1497. An ambassador was sent to meet her with a
train of one hundred and twenty mules laden with plate and tapestries.
The young Prince of Asturias, accompanied by the king his father,
hastened towards the north to meet his bride, whom they met at Reynosa
and escorted to Burgos. When Margaret saw her future husband and the
king approach, she attempted to kiss the latter's hands, which he
tried to prevent her from doing, but she persevered, and kissed the
king's hands as well as those of her future husband. On her arrival at
Burgos she was received with the greatest marks of pleasure and
satisfaction by the queen and the whole Court. Preparations were at
once made for solemnising the marriage after the expiration of Lent,
in a style of magnificence never before witnessed. The wedding
ceremony took place on Palm Sunday, the 3rd of April, and was
performed by the Archbishop of Toledo in the presence of the grandees
and principal nobility of Castile, the foreign ambassadors and
delegates from Aragon. Among these latter were the magistrates of the
principal cities, wearing their municipal insignia and crimson robes
of office, who seem to have had quite as important parts assigned by
their democratic communities as any of the nobility or gentry. The
wedding was followed by a brilliant succession of fêtes, tourneys,
tilts of reeds, and other warlike spectacles, in which the matchless
chivalry of Spain poured into the lists to display their prowess in
the presence of their future queen. The chronicles of the day remark
on the striking contrast exhibited at these entertainments between the
gay and familiar manners of Margaret and her Flemish nobles, and the
pomp and stately ceremonial of the Castilian Court, to which the
Austrian princess, brought up as she had been at the Court of France,
could never be wholly reconciled. The following quaint passage is from
Abarca's _Reyes de Aragon_:--'And although they left the princess all
her servants, freedom in behaviour and diversions, she was warned that
in the ceremonial affairs she was not to treat the royal personages
and grandees with the familiarity and openness usual with the houses
of Austria, Burgundy, and France, but with the gravity and measured
dignity of the kings and realms of Spain.'
An inventory of the rich plate and jewels presented to Margaret on the
day of her marriage is to be found in the sixth volume of memoirs of
the Spanish Academy of History. The plate and jewels are said to be
'of such value and perfect workmanship that the like was never seen.'
Nothing seemed wanting to the happiness of the young bride and
bridegroom, and that summer they made a kind of triumphal progress
through the great cities of the land. The marriage of the
heir-apparent could not have been celebrated at a happier time. It
took place in the midst of negotiations for a general peace, to which
the nation looked for repose after so many years of uninterrupted war.
The Court of the Spanish sovereigns was at the height of its
splendour; Ferdinand and Isabella seemed to have reached the zenith of
their ambitious dreams, when death stepped in, and destroyed their
fondest hopes.
Seven months after Prince John's marriage, his sister, Isabella, was
united to the King of Portugal. The wedding took place at the frontier
town of Valencia de Alcantara, in the presence of the Catholic
sovereigns, without pomp or parade of any kind.
While they were detained there, an express messenger brought tidings
of the dangerous illness of their son, the Prince of Asturias. Prince
John, accompanied by his youthful bride, had been on his way to his
sister's wedding when he fell a victim to a malignant fever at
Salamanca. The symptoms speedily assumed an alarming character. The
prince's constitution, naturally delicate, sunk under the violence of
the attack; and when his father, who came with all possible speed to
Salamanca, arrived there, no hopes were entertained of his recovery.
Ferdinand, however, tried to cheer his son with hopes he did not feel
himself; but the young prince told him that it was too late to be
deceived; that he was prepared to die, and that all he now desired was
that his parents might feel the same resignation to the divine will
which he experienced himself. Ferdinand took fresh courage from the
heroic example of his son, whose forebodings were unhappily too soon
realised. The doctors fearing to alarm Margaret, who was expecting
shortly to become a mother, had kept from her the serious state of her
husband's health as long as possible. Knowing that he was ill, she was
anxious to go on a pilgrimage to pray for his recovery. 'When at last
she was allowed to enter his room on the 4th October 1497 she was
shocked to see the change which a few days had wrought in him. Her
dying husband bade her farewell in a broken voice, recommending their
unborn child to her tender care. Margaret pressed her lips to his, but
when she found them already cold, overcome by emotion, she had to be
carried half-dead from the room.' Bowed down with grief, she did not
recover from the shock of her sudden bereavement, and soon after her
husband's death, gave birth to a still-born child.[11]
[11] 'Je me tais de son mal d'enfant, duquel elle travailla douze
jours et douze nuicts entières, sans intermission et sans pouvoir
prendre réfection de manger ni de dormir.'--Jean le Maire,
_Couronne Margaritique_.
This double tragedy is pathetically described by the historian, Peter
Martyr, who draws an affecting picture of the anguish of the young
widow, and the bereaved parents. 'Thus was laid low the hope of all
Spain.' 'Never was there a death which occasioned such deep and
general lamentation throughout the land.' Ferdinand, fearful of the
effect which the sudden news of this calamity might have on the queen,
caused letters to be sent at brief intervals, containing accounts of
the gradual decline of the prince's health, so as to prepare her for
the inevitable stroke. Isabella, however, received the fatal tidings
in a spirit of humble resignation, saying, 'The Lord hath given and
the Lord hath taken away, blessed be his name!'[12]
[12] Prescott.
Another historian relates that Ferdinand, fearing that the sudden news
of John's death would kill Isabella with grief, caused her to be told
that it was her husband, Ferdinand himself, that had died, so that
when he presented himself before her, the--as he supposed--lesser
grief of her son's death should be mitigated by seeing that her
husband was alive. The experiment does not appear to have been very
successful, as Isabella was profoundly affected when she heard the
truth. (Florez, _Reinas Catolicas_.) The blow was one from which she
never recovered. John was her only son, her 'angel' from the time of
his birth, and the dearest wish of her heart had been the unification
of Spain under him and his descendants.[13] Every honour which
affection could devise was paid to Prince John's memory. The Court, to
testify its unwonted grief, put on sackcloth instead of white serge
usually worn as mourning. All offices, public and private, were closed
for forty days; and every one dressed in black. The nobles and wealthy
people draped their mules with black cloth down to the knees, showing
only their eyes, and black flags were suspended from the walls and
gates of the cities. Such extraordinary signs of public sorrow show in
what regard the young prince was held. Peter Martyr, his tutor, is
unbounded in his admiration of his royal pupil's character, whose
brilliant promise and intellectual and moral excellence untimely
death, and that of his infant child.
[13] Martin Hume, _Queens of Old Spain_.
Prince John's funeral was celebrated on a magnificent scale, and his
body laid in the Dominican Monastery of Saint Thomas at Avila, which
had been erected by his parents. A few years later his treasurer, Juan
Velasquez, caused a beautiful monument to be raised to his memory, and
himself added a short but pathetic epitaph. This tomb is the
masterpiece of Micer Domenico of Florence, and resembles the exquisite
royal sepulchres at Granada. It is placed under an elliptical arch, in
front of the high altar, and is one of the finest specimens of an
Italian Renaissance tomb. The handsome young prince is depicted lying
full length on his marble couch, his hands together as if in prayer.
The whole figure is exquisitely simple and dignified in its perfect
repose; and if the beautiful marble effigy was true to life, we can
understand the overwhelming grief of Spain at his loss.
[Illustration: TOMB OF DON JOHN, PRINCE OF ASTURIAS, ONLY SON OF
FERDINAND AND ISABELLA AVILA]
After her husband's death Margaret became so popular 'that she was
often obliged to wait in the fields under the shade of the olives till
night fell, as she dared not enter the towns and cities by day,
because the people pressed with affectionate tumult round her litter
to see her face, crying aloud that they wished for her alone, for
their lady and princess, although when the Queen of Portugal, the
heiress, made her solemn and pompous entries in broad daylight, they
hardly greeted her.'[14] Prince John's eldest sister, the Queen of
Portugal, was next in the succession, but by her death in the
following year, and that of her infant son two years later, her
sister Joanna, wife of the Archduke Philip, became heiress to the
thrones of Aragon and Castile.
[14] _Couronne Margaritique_.
Margaret was treated most affectionately by the king and queen, who
made her a very liberal provision, and tried in every way to comfort
and console her. Whilst she was at the Spanish Court we hear of her
teaching French to her little sister-in-law, Katharine, who was
betrothed to Arthur, Prince of Wales. On July 17th, 1498, De Puebla is
instructed to write to the Spanish sovereigns that 'the Queen and the
mother of the King wish that the Princess of Wales should always speak
French with the Princess Margaret, who is now in Spain, in order to
learn the language, and to be able to converse in it when she comes to
England. This is necessary, because these ladies do not understand
Latin, and much less Spanish. They also wish that the Princess of
Wales should accustom herself to drink wine. The water of England is
not drinkable, and even if it were, the climate would not allow the
drinking of it.'[15]
[15] _Calendar of Spanish State Papers_, vol. i.
Margaret spent nearly two years at the Spanish Court. After the first
anniversary of her husband's death had passed, and his memory been
duly honoured by pompous services at Avila, her return to Germany was
discussed. Her Flemish attendants had never become accustomed to the
wearisome etiquette and stately ceremonial of the Court of Spain, and
by their unreasonable demands stirred up discord between her and the
king and queen. Maximilian hearing disquieting reports, urged his
daughter to lose no time in returning to him, which the princess
decided to do. Ferdinand and Isabella seem to have had a real
affection for their widowed daughter-in-law, and when the time for
parting came, expressed much sorrow at losing her. At last she set out
on her long journey back to Flanders (1499). Her former husband,
Charles VIII., had died suddenly in April 1498, leaving his kingdom to
his cousin, the Duke of Orleans, who ascended the throne as Louis XII.
Hearing that his old friend and playfellow was returning to Flanders,
Louis wrote a most affectionate letter offering her a safe conduct
through his dominions. Margaret was now twenty years old, but in spite
of her youth she had seen much sorrow. Twice through a cruel fate she
had missed the proud position of queen--first of France, then of
Spain. For the second time she returned to her father without husband
or child; but sorrow had deepened and enriched her character, and the
time she spent at the Castilian Court was not wasted, as it gave her
an insight into the management of state affairs and political
intrigues, which with her knowledge of Spanish was of infinite
importance to her in later life, and helped to form the able
politician and wise administrator who, as Governess of the
Netherlands, commanded the admiration and respect of the cleverest men
in Europe.