Part 9

Matilda had several suitors, but she fixed her heart upon a young Saxon noble named Brihtric, who on account of the fairness of his complexion was called _Meaw_, meaning “snow.” He was the Lord of Gloucester, and was made envoy at the court of Flanders by King Edward the Confessor.

But he did not return Matilda’s love, and he afterwards married another; this slight Matilda never forgot, and in time she retaliated.

But Matilda, though ignored by the Saxon, was most chivalrously loved by the bravest prince of all the courts—William of Normandy. This prince was the son of Duke Robert, though his mother was of humble birth; but as his father had no other heirs, he declared this child his lawful successor to the ducal throne, and then Duke Robert departed upon his pilgrimage to the Holy Land, from which he never returned.

William was educated at the court of Henry I. of France, where he remained until the Normans sent to claim him as their duke.

At the time when William sought the hand of Matilda of Flanders in marriage, he asserted that Edward of England had named him his heir; but some looked upon this as an idle boast, and fair Matilda seems to have been so little in love with her warlike cousin, that he sued for her for seven years in vain. At last, determining to prove that a “faint heart never won a fair lady,” he resorted to a most uncommon and hazardous mode of courting.

For seven long years he had wooed Matilda, who, absorbed in her vain fancy for the indifferent Lord of Gloucester, turned a deaf ear to brave William’s glowing ardor, until at length he was roused to desperate boldness.

One morning, as Matilda was returning from early mass in the city of Bruges, she was suddenly confronted by the unexpected appearance of Prince William, who, with glaring eyes and lips quivering with intense passion, accused her of loving Brihtric of Gloucester; and as she disdained to deny it he cried in bitter tones:—

“Edward, England’s king, has named me his heir, and by the holy cross, the Saxon churl who dares aspire to thy hand, shall ere long be crushed by the vengeance of our royal resentment.”

“Mighty words, easily spoken, and verily proof neither of greatness nor of valor,” replied the princess; then, laughing aloud in his face with disdainful manner, she continued: “The doubtful Duke of Normandy, monarch of England!—truly, a most excellent joke! But why does not my aspiring and politic cousin declare himself the future emperor of all Christendom?”

Stung by her sarcastic words and the implied insult regarding his birth, Prince William was driven to a frenzy of anger; he seized Matilda, rolled her in a muddy pool near by, and even struck her, in his wild fury, and leaving her fainting upon the ground, he leaped upon his charger, and galloped out of town. Strange wooing, surely! and yet after-events would seem to imply its efficacy. Truly, none but a William the Conqueror would ever again have dared to enter Matilda’s presence. Matilda’s father, incensed at the treatment his daughter had received, made war upon William of Normandy; but the king of Flanders was so badly beaten in the contest that he was glad to make terms of peace with his Norman conqueror. As Brihtric, the Saxon lord, refused to marry the princess of Flanders, Matilda’s love turned to hate, and she received the victor, William, when, with amazing boldness, he renewed his suit, with every mark of courteous forgiveness, and consented to accept him, declaring “that she thought the duke must be a man of the highest courage and most daring spirit, to come and beat her in her father’s city.” “So faithful in love and so dauntless in war,” this brave knight won his bride; and never was wooing so fiercely bold, nor fair lady so strangely won. King Baldwin V. of Flanders was only too ready to receive this brave knight as a son-in-law, and quickly concluded the marriage contract, having already had sufficient experience of the powerful sword of this fierce wooer. Matilda and William were married at Château d’Eu, in Normandy; and her father gave her a rich dower, in lands, money, jewels, and costly trousseau. William then conducted his bride with much pomp to his duchy; and she made her public entry into Rouen in magnificent array. The bridal mantles of William and Matilda, richly adorned with jewels, were long preserved in the treasury of Bayeux Cathedral. As William and Mary were cousins, the Archbishop of Rouen declared that their marriage was illegal, and excommunicated them. But the dauntless William was not to be terrified by any monkish bulls, and appealed to the Pope, who nullified the sentence of the archbishop, and sanctioned their marriage, on condition that they should each build an abbey at Caen, and found a hospital for the blind. This they willingly agreed to do; and Matilda, who possessed much taste in architecture, took great delight in the erection of the stately abbeys of St. Stephens and the Holy Trinity; the former was endowed by William, for the monks, and the latter by Matilda, for the nuns.

Normandy enjoyed peace and prosperity under the wise rule of William and Matilda, who were much beloved by their subjects. Their children were remarkable for beauty and promise, and were carefully educated under their mother’s supervision.

About this time, Harold, brother to Queen Edith of England, was taken prisoner by the sovereign of Ponthieu; and as a brother of Harold had married a sister of Matilda, William compelled the Earl of Ponthieu to release Harold, and then he invited the Saxon prince to Normandy, where he was betrothed to one of the young daughters of William and Matilda, after which Harold returned to England; but no sooner had Edward, king of England, breathed his last, than Harold seized upon the sovereign power, notwithstanding he had made a promise to William of Normandy to assist him in gaining his rights as heir to King Edward.

William thereupon invested Matilda with the regency of Normandy, and associated with her their eldest son, Robert, and prepared to invade England, and assert his claims as the successor of Edward the Confessor.

Unknown to her husband, Matilda had ordered a magnificent ship of war to be built; and when William arrived at the port of St. Vallery, he found this splendid present from his wife awaiting him, and gorgeously adorned in his honor. This ship was called the _Mora_, and in it William embarked at the head of his fleet.

The Norman fleet reached the port of Pevensey, on the coast of Sussex, in safety; but as Duke William was landing, he fell headlong upon the ground. “An evil sign is this!” exclaimed the superstitious Normans in affright. But the duke, rising with his hands full of sand, cried: “I have seized England with my two hands, and that which I have seized I will maintain.” And most truly did he fulfil this prophecy; and by the bloody battle of Hastings the proud realm of England became the dominion of the Norman conqueror.

Matilda, the Duchess Regent of Normandy, received the welcome news of her husband’s victory while at worship in the Church of Nôtre Dame, near St. Sever. She thereupon ordered that the cathedral should henceforth be called the “Church of Our Lady of Good Tidings.”

William re-embarked for Normandy to rejoin Matilda, in March, 1067; but scarcely had he arrived in his dukedom, ere tidings reached him of a revolt in England. He immediately returned, quelled the insurrection, and then sent for Matilda and their children to join him in England.

Matilda arrived in England with her family soon after Easter. William now made preparations for her coronation. As I have mentioned, former wives of the sovereigns of England had not received this honor. But William the Conqueror would allow no obstacles to defeat his purposes.

Although William had already been crowned in Westminster Abbey, he chose to be now re-crowned at Winchester, that Matilda might be made queen.

It was during the ceremony of Matilda’s coronation that the office of champion was first instituted. During the banquet, a brave cavalier named Marmion, clad in complete armor, rode into the hall and pronounced this challenge:—

“If any person denies that our sovereign lord, William, and his spouse, Matilda, are king and queen of England, he is a false-hearted traitor and liar; and I, as a champion, do here challenge him to single combat.”

This challenge was repeated three times, but no one accepted it; and henceforth Matilda was always addressed as _la reine_.

But Matilda had never forgiven the slight she had received, as a girl, from the proud Lord of Gloucester; and no sooner had she become queen of England than she determined to take an unworthy revenge, which ever after tarnished her fame.

She obtained from King William the grant of all the possessions of Brihtric Meaw, and caused that unfortunate Saxon, whose only crime had been indifference to her youthful charms, to be imprisoned in Winchester Castle, where he died. She even deprived the city of Gloucester of its charter, and brought ruin to its inhabitants, probably because they had dared bewail the fate of their lord, her enemy.

Queen Matilda now commenced her famous Bayeux Tapestry, illustrating the conquest of England by William the Conqueror. In the cathedral of Bayeux, where it is still preserved, it is called the “Tapestry of Queen Matilda.”

This remarkable piece of canvas is nineteen inches wide and sixty-seven yards in length. Upon it are worked in cross-stitch many hundreds of figures, of men, horses, birds, trees, houses, castles, churches, ships, and battle scenes.

A dwarf artist, named Turold, is supposed to have made the designs for Queen Matilda, and he has cunningly introduced his own effigies and name into the work.

Matilda’s table, while in England, was furnished at the daily expense of forty shillings; and twelvepence each were allowed for the maintenance of her attendants. She received from the city of London oil for her lamp, wood for her hearth, and imports on goods landed at Queenhithe.

At this time, also, the famous curfew bell was established, which was the signal that all lights and fires must be extinguished at eight o’clock in the evening. This was an old Norman custom, but it occasioned great dissatisfaction among the English.

So frequent were the revolts among his English subjects, that at length William thought best to send Matilda and their children back to Normandy, where she resumed the regency. She did not reside in England after this time.

Robert, the eldest son of William and Matilda, now occasioned his parents much trouble. At last the quarrel between father and son resulted in open war.

Matilda, whose excessive partiality for her eldest son much offended her husband, supplied the rebellious Robert with large sums of money; and when means failed her, she even parted with her plate and jewels to aid her favorite child. William was in England when the news reached him of the rebellion of Robert and the part Matilda was taking in the matter, and he immediately set out for Normandy. Upon arriving there, and learning the truth of these rumors, he met his wife with bitter reproaches. There was stern grandeur, not unmixed with tender pity and love, in the harsh words which he addressed to Matilda, which were not entirely unmerited; and there was also a sublime depth of mother’s love in her reply. Fixing his eyes upon the queen, the Conqueror exclaimed with trembling voice:—

“The brightest jewel of my bosom hath pierced my heart with the deadly dart of treachery. Behold, my wife!—the treasure of my soul—to whom I have confided my wealth, my crown, my greatness, my all. She hath supported my rebel son in perfidy, and aided him to raise his sword against his own father.”

“My lord!” replied Matilda, “far be from me to do you wrong. But when you spurn our firstborn and retain from him his rights, you drive him to wretchedness and distraction. Be not surprised if I feel a mother’s tenderness for her child. Nay, so much do I love him, that for his dear sake I would dare any danger, do any deed. Ask me not to enjoy the pomp of royalty while he is pining in want and misery; as a loving husband, you have no right to impose such insensibility on a mother.”

Robert and his father met in battle at Archembraye; and in the contest Robert unhorsed his father, and, unconscious as to whom he had defeated, was about to pierce him with his sword, when he recognized his foe, and fell at his feet begging forgiveness, horrified at the thought of how nearly he had committed the awful crime of parricide. A reconciliation took place, and Robert accompanied William to England.

Matilda’s last years were embittered by domestic troubles. She remained in Normandy. The death of her daughter Constance and renewed quarrels between Robert and his father, added to her own failing health, quickened her decline. She died at Caen, in November, 1083. Her husband hastened from England when informed of her danger, and arrived as she breathed her last. She was interred in the Church of the Holy Trinity at Caen. William the Conqueror survived her only four years, when his death was occasioned by an accident during the storming of the city of Nantes, when his horse stumbled over some burning timber, and throwing the king violently forward in the saddle, he was so seriously injured as to result in his death. William the Conqueror was buried in the Church of St. Stephen at Caen. The portraits of William and Matilda were painted upon the walls of St. Stephen’s chapel.

William was remarkable for his great strength and imposing beauty. He was a head taller than all his subjects. The face of Queen Matilda was beautiful and delicate. Their two sons, William Rufus and Henry, reigned successively over England. Robert died in prison. Their fourth daughter, Adela, was the mother of King Stephen.

In 1562 the Calvinist soldiers broke open the tombs of William and Matilda, hoping to find rich treasures; but finding nothing but a sapphire ring upon Matilda’s finger, they rudely threw the bones carelessly around. In 1642 these relics were collected, and their tombs restored, though at the close of the last century the French Republicans destroyed the monumental memorial of Matilda, which had been there erected by her husband before his death. Thus the needle-work of Queen Matilda has proved to be a more lasting memorial of her fame than the costly monument of marble erected to her memory.

MARGARET OF ANJOU.

A.D. 1429-1482.

“The red rose and the white are on his face, The fatal colours of our striving houses.” —SHAKESPEARE.

ONE of the most momentous civil commotions in the annals of English history was the famous War of the Roses, which was waged for many years between the Houses of Lancaster and York, during which sanguine contests the plains of England were deluged with blood; eighty princes were slain, and the ancient nobility were almost entirely annihilated.

With these exciting incidents the name of Margaret of Anjou is indissolubly associated, and she stands forth in history as one of the most important participants in that great civil struggle, which may be thus briefly stated.

Henry VI., the reigning king of England, was the son of John of Gaunt, a younger son of Edward the Third. About this time, the Duke of York, who was descended by his mother’s side from Lionel, an older son of the same Edward, aspired to the throne, and gathering to his standard many powerful nobles, he sought to dethrone King Henry.

The partisans of the House of York chose the white rose for their badge, while the reigning House of Lancaster wore, as their emblem, the red rose.

Previously to this period, Henry, the king of England, had wedded Margaret of Anjou.

This princess was the youngest daughter of René, Duke of Anjou. Her father was the son of Louis II., king of Naples, Sicily, and Jerusalem, and also sovereign count of Provence, Anjou, and Maine.

But though Duke René was heir to so many kingdoms at the time of his daughter’s marriage, he was owner of none; and instead of providing her with a rich dower, suitable to her rank, the marriage stipulations were very peculiar.

Henry VI. of England was twenty-six years of age. His country was impoverished by a thirty years’ war. Margaret was at this time living at Naples, of which realm her father called himself king. Amongst the princesses selected for the approval of the bachelor king of England, none pleased King Henry so well as the beautiful face of Margaret of Anjou, whose portrait had been sent to him for his examination. So overtures were at once made to the father of this lovely princess.

René consented most readily to the marriage, on the condition that the bride’s wedding portion should be only her own lovely charms and superior accomplishments, which he declared were worth more than all the riches of the world.

But this was not all in this strange marriage agreement. René also demanded that Henry should restore to him his patrimonial estates of Anjou and Maine, which had been wrested from him.

Though Margaret’s father possessed so many high-sounding titles, he was in truth a royal pauper. He had been driven out of Naples, England held Anjou and Maine, and in order to pay his ransom to the Duke of Burgundy, who had kept him a prisoner for six years, René had been obliged to mortgage his other dominions, so that now he possessed neither castle nor an acre of ground he could call his own.

The Earl of Suffolk, who had been sent by King Henry to make the marriage settlements, was alarmed to bring back to his sovereign such an unheard-of demand from the father of a portionless bride; but as René would not relent, Suffolk was forced to return to his king with this strange proposal.

Although King Henry was almost as much poverty-stricken as the lovely princess, her fair face so bewitched him that he readily consented to take her, not only without dower, but to relinquish for her the domains of Anjou and Maine.

The Earl of Suffolk was sent back to wed the fair princess as proxy for Henry, and in St. Martin’s church, at Nanci, in November, 1444, Margaret was married by proxy, the bride being in her fifteenth year.

The ceremony was performed in the presence of her aunt, Marie of Anjou, queen of France, and Charles VII. The bride’s father and mother were also present, and all the leading nobles of the courts of France and Lorraine; the mother of the bride being Isabella, claimant of the duchy of Lorraine.

At the nuptial tournaments and festivities, which lasted for eight days, all the knights wore daisies on their helmets; and the bridemaids and other maidens of Lorraine were decked with wreaths and garlands of the same flower, in honor of the bride’s name, “Marguerite,” signifying “the daisy.”

During these wedding festivities, an enlivening incident occurred. Yolante, the elder sister of Margaret, had for a long time been betrothed to Ferry of Lorraine, the heir of Duke Antony, the successful competitor for that dukedom. For some reason René had delayed this marriage; and so, at this auspicious moment, the young prince ran away with his fiancée and married her. Charles VII., king of France, interceded for their pardon, which René was only too willing to grant, as his apparent opposition had only been on account of lack of dower for his daughter.

Margaret now started on her journey to England, to meet King Henry, to whom she had been married by proxy. She was attended by the Marquis of Suffolk, who had been raised to that rank by King Henry, that he might act as his proxy; and Suffolk’s wife, the Countess of Shrewsbury, and many other noble ladies, accompanied the young bride on this momentous journey.

So poor was the fair little bride, and so poverty-stricken was her royal husband, that she had set out with no money and with little apparel; and her royal lord could not forward to her a farthing, until the Parliament, in February, 1445, granted him the half of a fifteenth on all movables.

A rough bridal voyage, indeed, was vouchsafed to this young and beautiful bride. It was five months after her marriage by proxy before she was married to Henry with the usual ceremonies in Tichfield Abbey. Meantime, not only had sea-sickness brought her to a hospital, but there she was attacked by small-pox ere she had recovered from the effects of her voyage. This terrible disease was fortunately very light in her case, for her marriage took place in little more than a week after she had recovered from the short attack.

It is curious to note that the doctor’s bill for attendance, during the voyage and at the time of this sickness, was only three pounds nine shillings and twopence; and this for attending the royal queen of England.

Margaret’s nuptials with Henry VI. were solemnized April 22, 1445. The bridal ring, set with a ruby, was made from the one with which Henry was consecrated at the time of his coronation. The queen received a bridal present of a lion. Her coronation took place May 30, at Westminster Abbey.

But scarcely was the beautiful queen seated upon her royal throne ere troubles gathered thick and fast about her; and she continued to be a victim to misfortune during all the remainder of her life.

The Duke of Gloucester and the rich old Cardinal Beaufort were rival statesmen of England. It had been through Cardinal Beaufort, assisted by Suffolk, that Henry had won the fair Margaret; whereas the Duke of Gloucester had proposed another alliance. For this reason the power of the cardinal was now in the ascendant at court; and through Suffolk, who gradually obtained uncontrolled authority, both in the council and in Parliament, the cardinal possessed immense power over the crown. As the king and queen were still hampered by their impoverished condition, the rich cardinal frequently relieved the pressing needs of the royal pair, and thus secured greater influence over them.

In 1447, the mysterious death of the Duke of Gloucester occurred, and the enemies of Beaufort and the queen asserted that he was murdered by their connivance. But this unjust charge is apparently without the least foundation, as records state that the duke died from illness, probably apoplexy.

During the same year the aged Cardinal Beaufort died, and the king and queen were left without his support, and what was equally important, the aid of his well-filled purse.

King Henry now began to show symptoms of the fearful brain malady which he had inherited from his grandfather, Charles VI. Henry’s ministry, headed by Suffolk, was despised and hated. At this time the government fell mostly into the hands of the young queen of eighteen, who found herself obliged to rely upon Suffolk, who became daily more distasteful to the English people.

In 1448 hostilities with France were renewed, and Charles VII. reconquered Normandy. This was the same king of France, whose coronation at Rheims was secured to him through the brave efforts of the Maid of Orleans, Joan d’Arc, whose romantic story has been so often related. Declaring that she was called by the angel St. Michael and the virgin saints to deliver her country from the English, she led her troops to Orleans, carrying a marvellous sword in her hand, which she said she had been directed to bring from the shrine of St. Catherine; and she succeeded in delivering that city from the siege. This victory prepared the way for the coronation of Charles VII.; but to his eternal disgrace, when this brave maiden was afterwards captured by her enemies, and tried as a witch, he did not make any effort to save her, though to her he owed his crown; and she was burnt at the stake, in the market-place at Rouen.