"Of such Kings' daughters there was indeed one, of the noblest birth, Isabella, Queen of Denmark, a Princess of the royal house of Spain. She embraced the Gospel with great ardour, and confessed the faith openly. And because of this she died in want and misery. For had she consented to renounce her faith, she would have received far more help and much greater kindness in this life."[56]
III.
The news of the Queen of Denmark's death reached her brother, the Emperor, on the eve of his marriage to Isabella of Portugal. Guillaume des Barres, the bearer of Margaret's letters, found him at a village in Andalusia, on his way to Seville, where the wedding was to take place on the following day, and had a long interview with his imperial master before he left his bed on the 9th of March. Charles spoke with deep feeling of his sister, and inquired anxiously if the Regent had been able to obtain possession of her children—"a thing," wrote Des Barres, "which His Majesty desires greatly, because of the King's heretical leanings."[57]
1523-31] MARGARET INTERVENES
Margaret had certainly not been remiss in this matter. But Christian was more intractable than ever. He took his children to Ghent immediately after their mother's death, and refused to give them up until the Regent had paid all his debts, including 7,000 florins for the funeral expenses, and 2,000 more which he owed to the landlord of the Falcon at Lierre for Rhine-wine and fodder. His language became every day more violent. He threatened to cut off the Governor of Antwerp's head, and appealed to his comrades of the Golden Fleece for the redress of his supposed grievances. At length Margaret, seeing that none of her Court officials and Councillors could bring him to reason, rode to Lierre herself on the 2nd of March, and made a last attempt to obtain possession of the children par voye aimable. The King, she found, had already packed up his furniture and plate, even the chalice which was used in the royal chapel, and was about to start for Germany.
After prolonged discussion, the Regent succeeded in persuading Christian to leave his children with her, on condition that she paid his debts in Lierre, and provided for the late Queen's funeral expenses—"a thing which must be done," she wrote to Charles, "out of sheer decency." But she quite refused the King's demand for an increased allowance, saying that he could not require more money than he had received in his wife's lifetime. Christian then left the Netherlands for Saxony, saying that he intended to raise a fresh army and invade Denmark. "He is confident of recovering his kingdoms," wrote Margaret to the Emperor, "but my own impression is that his exploits will be confined to plundering and injuring your subjects." This prophecy was literally fulfilled, and during the next four years the peaceful folk in Friesland were harassed by turbulent freebooters in the King of Denmark's pay, while pirates ravaged the coasts of the North Sea, and led the Hanse cities to make severe reprisals on the Dutch ships.
1523-31] THE PALACE OF MALINES
Margaret's chief object, however, was attained. On the 5th of March she returned to Malines with the Prince of Denmark and his little sisters. "Henceforth, Monseigneur," she wrote to Charles, "you will have to be both father and mother to these poor children, and must treat them as your own."[58] The Regent herself nobly fulfilled the sacred trust committed to her by the dying Queen. From this time until her own death, four and a half years later, Isabella's children were the objects of her unceasing care, and lacked nothing that money could provide or love suggest. They lived under her own roof in the Palace of Malines, that city of wide streets and canals, with the fine market-place and imposing cathedral, which many called the finest town in Flanders. Margaret's first care was to arrange the royal children's household. Prince John was placed in the charge of a governess, Mademoiselle Rolande de Serclaes, who superintended his meals and taught him "Christian religion and good manners," while he had for his tutor Cornelius Agrippa, the distinguished scholar and defender of women's rights, who dedicated his book, "On the Pre-excellence of Women," to the Regent. In Lent the Prince and his sisters received regular instruction in the palace chapel, and one year Friar Jehan de Salis received thirty-six livres for preaching a course of Lent sermons before the Prince and Princesses of Denmark. Margaret herself kept a watchful eye on the children. A hundred entries in her household accounts show how carefully she chose their nurses and companions, their clothes and playthings. One of her first gifts to the Prince was a handsome pony, richly harnessed with black and gold trappings. Another was a dwarf page, who became his constant playfellow, and in his turn received good Ypres cloth and damask for his own wear. Italian merchants from Antwerp often came to lay their wares before the Regent. We find her choosing black velvet and white satin for Prince John's doublet, and pearl buttons and gold fringe to trim his sleeves, and ordering the goldsmith, Master Leonard of Augsburg, to supply an antique silver dagger and an image of Hercules for the Prince's cap. Or else a merchant is desired to send her two pairs of cuffs of exquisitely fine "toile de Cambray," embroidered with gold thread, for the young Princesses' wear,[59] and twenty gold balls for the fringe of their bed. Amid all the anxious cares of State which filled her time, this great lady seldom allowed a day to pass without seeing her nephew and nieces. Their innocent prattle and merry laughter cheered her lonely hours, while the Prince and his sisters found plenty to amuse them in their great-aunt's rooms. The halls were hung with costly Arras tapestries of David killing Goliath, stories of Alexander and Esther, hunting scenes and Greek fables, or adorned with paintings by the best masters. Van Eyck's "Merchant of Lucca, Arnolfini with his Wife," and "Virgin of the Fountain," Rogier Van der Weyden's and Memling's Madonnas, Jerome Bosch's "St. Anthony," Jacopo de' Barbari's "Crucifixion," were all here, as well as Michel van Coxien's little Virgin with the sleeping Child in her arms, which Margaret called her mignonne.[60] The library contained a complete collection of family portraits, chiefly the work of the Court painter, Bernard van Orley or Jehan Mabuse.
1523-31] MABUSE'S PICTURE
Among these were pictures of Margaret's parents, Maximilian and Mary of Burgundy; of her second husband, Monsieur de Savoie, a brilliant cavalier clad in a crimson mantle sown with daisies in allusion to his wife's name; and of her brother, King Philip, with his children, the young Archduke Charles and the future Queens of France and Denmark. Prince John and his sisters would recognize the portraits of their own father and mother, King Christian and his gentle wife, which hung over the mantelpiece, together with those of their great-grandparents, Ferdinand and Isabella, the Kings of France and England, and the Grand Turk. But better in the children's eyes than all the pictures and bronzes, the marble busts and ivories, the silver mirrors and chandeliers, better even than the Chinese dragons and stuffed birds-of-Paradise from the New World, were the live pets with which their aunt loved to be surrounded. The famous green parrot which once belonged to Mary of Burgundy had lately died, to her great sorrow. Margaret herself had written its epitaph, and the Court poet, Jehan Le Maire, had sung the bird's descent into the Elysian fields, and its converse with Charon and Mercury, in his elegy of "L'Amant Vert." But in its stead she had cages full of parakeets and singing birds, which were carefully tended by her ladies, and fed with white loaves newly baked every morning. There was an Italian greyhound in a white fur tippet, and a number of toy-dogs in baskets lined with swansdown, and a marmoset that she had bought from a French pedlar, which afforded the Court ladies as much amusement as the royal children. Nor were other diversions wanting. Margaret was very fond of music, and not only kept a troop of viol and tambourine players, but often sent for the town band of Ghent and Brussels, or the Prince of Orange's fife and organ players, to beguile her evenings. Sometimes the children of S. Rombaut and the choir-boys of Notre Dame du Sablon in Brussels would sing chorales during dinner, or strolling players and German marionettes, Italian jugglers, or Poles and Hungarians with tame bears, would be allowed to perform in her presence. On one occasion a famous lute-player from the Court of Whitehall was sent over by King Henry, and received seven gold crowns for his pains. Another time three Savoyards were rewarded with a handful of gold pieces for the tricks with which they had amused the Court after supper. And every May Day the archers of the guard marched in procession to plant hawthorn-bushes covered with blossom under the palace windows.[61]