Nevertheless, Alfonso was hated by his new subjects quite as thoroughly as René had been beloved. The war dragged on; in Calabria the Prince of Taranto raised once more the banner of Anjou, and Giovanni Toreglia, a cousin of Lucrezia d’Alagni, Alfonso’s last mistress, seized Ischia for Jean, Duke of Calabria, René’s eldest son. René himself made two more attempts to regain Giovanna’s inheritance: in 1458 and 1461; but Charles VII. and Louis XI. each failed him in turn with reinforcements. Last of all, Jean, Duke of Calabria, was decisively defeated at Troia in 1462 by Ferdinand I., Alfonso’s bastard son, who succeeded to the throne of Naples after his father’s death in 1458, a man treacherous and vindictive, and a libertine. “Sic transit gloria mundi” may be written as a footnote to the story of Naples in the fifteenth century.
CHAPTER VIII
MARGUERITE D’ANJOU—“THE MOST INTREPID OF QUEENS”
I.
“Margaret of Anjou was the loveliest, the best-educated, and the most fearless Princess in Christendom!” High praise indeed, but not more than her due, and universally accorded her by every historian who has undertaken to chronicle her character and career.
Born at the Castle of Pont-à-Mousson,—one of the finest in all Lorraine, and a favourite residence of her father and mother,—on March 23, 1429, Margaret was the youngest child of René, Duke of Bar, and Isabelle of Lorraine his wife. Her father was far away from his home when this pretty babe first smiled upon her sweet mother. He was escorting La Pucelle to Chinon, and leading the troops of Charles VII. to victory. Her mother was Lieutenant-General of the duchies—a devoted and heroic spouse. The little girl’s cradle was rocked amid the rivalries and hostilities of the Houses of Lorraine and Vaudémont. She was the child of Mars. She was baptized by Henri de Ville, Bishop of Toul, who had just been created, by the Emperor Sigismund, Prince of the Holy Roman Empire. The Bishop was a trusty friend of Duke René in shower and shine.
That ducal nursery, where faithful Théophaine la Magine bore maternal nursing sway, was a merry one; for Margaret’s brothers Jean, Louis, and little Nicholas,—twin with her only sister Yolande,—were all vigorous youngsters. Then, besides these legitimate children, the Castle of Bar-le-Duc sheltered another Jean and Blanche and Madeleine, born to their father out of wedlock. The ducal sepulchre had given rest to two other baby boys, Charles and René, own brothers to little Margaret.
Margaret’s experience of the joys and sorrows of the world began at a very early age. Her doting father was a captive away at Dijon under the rigorous hand of the Duke of Burgundy, and Duchess Isabelle was up and about seeking his deliverance. René and she had succeeded Charles II. as Duke and Duchess of Lorraine the same year that saw the Tour de Bar receive its distinguished prisoner, and upon Isabelle fell all the complications and difficulties attending the succession. To be sure, she had the very able help of the Dowager Duchess, her own dear mother Marguerite, godmother of her little girl, but the first consideration in her mind was her husband’s liberty. Handing over the reins of government to Duchess Marguerite and the Council of State, Isabelle betook herself to the Court of Charles VII. to claim his assistance and interference. With her she took her two little daughters—Yolande, only three years old, and Margaret, but two. Her sons were sent to Burgundy to stand as hostages at the Duke’s orders, and little Nicholas remained with his grandmother at Nancy.