chroniclers, “they both bent down to the ground
and turned as pale as death—a sign of mutual
love according to some, an omen of unhappiness according
to others.” Next day, August 19, the marriage
was celebrated with great simplicity in the chapel
of the Hotel de Ville; and Maximilian swore to respect
the privileges of Ghent. A few days afterwards
he renewed the same oath at Bruges, in the midst of
decorations bearing the modest device, “Most
glorious prince, defend us lest we perish” (Gloriosissime
princeps, defende nos ne pereamus). Not only
did Louis XI. thus fail in his first wise design of
incorporating with France, by means of a marriage between
his son the dauphin and Princess Mary, the heritage
of the Dukes of Burgundy, but he suffered the heiress
and a great part of the heritage to pass into the
hands of the son of the German emperor; and thereby
he paved the way for that determined rivalry between
the houses of France and Austria, which was a source
of so many dangers and woes to both states during
three centuries. It is said that in 1745, when
Louis XV., after the battle of Fontenoy, entered Bruges
cathedral, he remarked, as he gazed on the tombs of
the Austro-Burgundian princes, “There is the
origin of all our wars.” In vain, when
the marriage of Maximilian and Mary was completed,
did Louis XI. attempt to struggle against his new and
dangerous neighbor; his campaigns in the Flemish provinces,
in 1478 and 1479, had no great result; he lost, on
the 7th of August, 1479, the battle of Guinegate,
between St. Omer and Therouanne; and before long,
tired of war, which was not his favorite theatre for
the display of his abilities, he ended by concluding
with Maximilian a truce at first, and then a peace,
which in spite of some conditionals favorable to France,
left the principal and the fatal consequences of the
Austro-Burgundian marriage to take full effect.
This event marked the stoppage of that great, national
policy which had prevailed during the first part of
Louis XI.’s reign. Joan of Arc and Charles
VII. had driven the English from France; and for sixteen
years Louis XI. had, by fighting and gradually destroying
the great vassals who made alliance with them, prevented
them from regaining a footing there. That was
work as salutary as it was glorious for the nation
and the French kingship. At the death of Charles
the Rash, the work was accomplished; Louis XI. was
the only power left in France, without any great peril
from without, and without any great rival within;
but he then fell under the sway of mistaken ideas and
a vicious spirit. The infinite resources of
his mind, the agreeableness of his conversation, his
perseverance combined with the pliancy of his will,
the services he was rendering France, the successes
he in the long ruin frequently obtained, and his ready
apparent resignation under his reverses, for a while
made up for or palliated his faults, his falsehoods,
his perfidies, his iniquities; but when evil is predominant