Mary of Burgundy; or, The Revolt of Ghent. G. P. R. James

calculated to gain her heart. Brave, chivalrous, and accomplished, graceful and well-formed in person, and handsome in features, Maximilian, son of the Emperor Frederick, displayed, at the same time, all that native kindness of heart, which, giving a gentle courtesy to the whole demeanour, is far more winning than the most splendid acquirements; and such qualities might have been quite sufficient to gain the heart of the heiress of Burgundy. Other things, indeed, were required by her father; but besides these personal qualities, he was the son of the richest monarch in Europe, the heir of the duchy of Austria, and would be, undoubtedly, successor to the imperial throne itself. Every object seemed attained by such an alliance; and when, after appearing two years successively at the court of Burgundy, Maximilian demanded the hand of the beautiful heiress of the land, Mary, for the first time, heard with joy that it was promised to the new aspirant.

      Long negotiations succeeded; and it was agreed that the duchy of Burgundy, freed from its homage to the crown of France, should be erected into an independent kingdom.

      A grand meeting of the Imperial and Burgundian courts was appointed at Treves, for the conclusion of the marriage; and Charles the Bold, with his daughter, accompanied by a train of unrivalled splendour, set out for the place of rendezvous. Mary's heart beat high as she entered the ancient city; and now, taught to look upon Maximilian as her future husband, she yielded her whole heart to the influence of her first affection. But the greedy ambition of her father was destined to overthrow, for a time, all those airy fabrics of happiness, of which her hopes, and her imagination, had been the architects. Charles insisted that the title of king should be granted to him previous to his daughter's marriage; while the Emperor, who had watched his capricious changes on other occasions, with a jealous and somewhat indignant eye, refused to confer the title he sought, till the hand of the heiress of Burgundy was irrevocably bestowed upon his son. Charles argued, and railed, and threatened in vain; and at length the Emperor, wearied with his pertinacity, and offended by his intemperate violence, suddenly broke up his court, and left him, mad with rage and disappointment, to carry back his daughter to Brussels, with her heart bleeding in secret from the cruel wounds it had received.

      Other negotiations succeeded with other princes; and though Mary heard, with apprehension and terror, of each new proposal, the capricious uncertainty of her father's disposition saved her from the still bitterer pangs of yielding her hand to another, while her heart was really given to Maximilian.

      In the meantime, disputes and wars took place; the projects of her marriage languished, or were abandoned; and while her father hastened to the last fatal field, where his military renown was extinguished in his blood, she remained with her gentle stepmother in Ghent, to weep the perils to which her parent's mad ambition exposed him, and to tremble at the sight of every packet that reached her from the Burgundian camp.

      Such were the changes and events which had affected the fate of Mary of Burgundy, since we depicted her as an infant, born shortly after the arrival of the Dauphin at the court of Brussels. Over the Dauphin himself, greater alterations still had come in the course of passing years. From an exiled prince, he had become the king of a mighty nation; and time had stolen away all the graces of youth, and all those better feelings, and nobler emotions, which, in the freshness of early life, are more or less imparted to every human being, whatever may be the portion of selfish cunning added to neutralize them. However beneficial might be his policy to the country over which he ruled, however much his acts might advance the progress of society in Europe, and lead forward the world to a state of more general freedom and civilization, his objects were mean and personal, and individual ambition of the lowest kind was the motive for all his cunning schemes and artful policy. An immortal pen has, in our own day, portrayed his character with unequalled skill; and of Louis XI., at this period of his life, nothing farther can be said, than that he was the Louis XI. of Sir Walter Scott.

      Of those who accompanied him on his journey, Thibalt of Neufchatel, Marshal of Burgundy, still remained; a weather-beaten warrior, and still, in a certain sense, a haughty noble. Though age, with its infirmities, had somewhat broken his strength, and had also softened his heart, he was ready at all times, nevertheless, to spring into the saddle at the trumpet's call: but so much, indeed, had he learned to look upon the inferior ranks with a milder eye, that he had become rather popular than otherwise; and amongst the peasants and burghers was generally known, at this time, by the name of good Count Thibalt. The taint of pride still remained; but its operation was directed in a different manner; and young nobles, and new soldiers, who were not always inclined to pay as much respect to the old officer's opinion as he thought his due, now monopolized the scorn which he had formerly bestowed upon the citizens; while the degree of popularity he had lately acquired among the lower classes, and the deference with which they invariably treated him, contrasting strongly with the self-sufficient arrogance of some of his youthful compeers, soothed his pride, gratified his vanity, and made him, day by day, more bending and complacent to those whom he had formerly despised.

      On good Martin Fruse, the passing of twenty years had brought, if not a green, at least a fat old age. He was not unwieldy, however; was rosy, and well respected amongst his fellow citizens for his wealth, for his wisdom, and for his many memories of the mighty past; and, in short, good Martin Fruse was, in person and appearance, a man who had gone happily through many changes, increasing in riches, honour, and comfort, with very few cares to prey upon his mind, and scarcely an ailment through life to shatter his body. As he had proceeded, however, experience had done its work: and while he had become wiser, and had really obtained a greater insight into affairs of policy, he had grown less vain, and willingly restrained his personal efforts to composing the municipal squabbles of his native city, and directing the efforts of his townsmen for the extension of their commerce and the improvement of their manufactures.

      His nephew, Albert Maurice, had been differently changed by the wand of the enchanter Time. His mind, indeed, was one of those firm, fixed, and steadfast essences, on which the passing of years make but little alteration, except by expanding their capabilities by the exercise of their powers. From a boy, it is true, he had grown into a powerful and handsome man; and, though in partnership with his uncle, he held the peaceful station of a rich merchant of Ghent, yet he was skilled in all military exercises; and, when the communes of Flanders had been called to the field, on pressing occasions, amongst the various struggles of that eventful period, he had shown knowledge, courage, and address, which had excited the wonder, and perhaps the jealousy, of many of those noble warriors who looked upon the trade of war as peculiarly their own. Whenever he returned home again, however, from the camp, he sunk at once into the citizen; seemed to forget or to despise his military skill; and, though gay and splendid amongst his own class, far from courting popularity, he appeared to conceal purposely the deep thoughts and striking qualities of his mind. Once or twice, indeed, he had been heard to burst into an eloquent and indignant rebuke to some of the nobles, on the occasion of the haughty vexations which they continually exercised upon the lower classes; but he seemed to regret his words as soon as spoken; and--as if he knew that, at some time, a fearful and deadly contest must arise between himself and the oppressors of his class, and strove anxiously, and with a feeling of awe, to delay it as long as possible--he avoided all matter of quarrel with the nobility of Ghent, or with the officers of the Duke of Burgundy. He seemed desirous of closing his eyes to subjects of offence; and, when he heard of a brawl in any neighbouring part of the town, or when the other young citizens called upon him to take a lead in their frequent tumults, he would either quit the place for the time, or shut himself sternly in his own dwelling, in order to avoid any participation in the dangerous occurrences that were taking place.

      On one of these occasions, when the city of Ghent, though not in open revolt, was keeping up an angry discussion with the high officers of the duke, Albert Maurice, then in his twenty-fourth year, obtained his uncle's consent to travel into Italy, for the purpose of superintending some transactions which their house was carrying on with the merchant lords of Venice. In that sweet climate, the nurse of arts and too often of crimes, he acquired an elegance of taste, and a grace of manner, unknown to the burghers of his native place. He came home, skilled in many arts with which they were unacquainted; and, had his spirit been less powerful, his talents less commanding, it is not improbable that his fellow citizens might have contemned or laughed at acquirements which they had not learned to appreciate, and might have scorned the travelled coxcomb who brought home