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

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