The First Governess of the Netherlands, Margaret of Austria. Eleanor E. Tremayne

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