Chapter 38 – Scotland in 1513 to 1514
The king of Scotland died nine days before his daughter-in law passed away. The new Queen of Scots had breathed her last in Stirling Palace on the 17th of May, leaving her infant daughter, Joan Stewart motherless at the mere age of eight months old, her sole contribution to the royal house of Scotland before her death at the age of seventeen. Marie of Valois never had time to bear the crown intended for her head as a fever had caused her demise. The messengers, wearing black garments for mourning, whom had arrived to proclaim her queen, returned to the court in Edinburgh with even more sad announcement for their new sovereign, James V, king of Scots and the sixth Stewart monarch of the realm.
Marie of Valois the Nine Days Queen, Posthumous portrait in 1514
Joan of Gloucester took the loss of Marie far less hard than her husband as she had never approved of her son’s wife. Her primary fault had been that she was French, of all things and the eldest daughter of Richard III of England had no love for that kingdom. But neither had she desired Marie’s death and a sense of guilt had come over her at the news. She should have been kinder to her, done more to make her feel welcome to the Scottish kingdom, so different from the Loire Valley where she had grown up. Marie’s original betrothal had been to the Holy Roman Empire, but the ascension of John III to the throne of Castile had made Maximilian I more interested in allying with the mighty king of Spain and the chaos that had engulfed France had been the final nail in the coffin for that future alliance.
James had been the picture of regal courtesy upon her arrival and Jamie behaved as the prince he was raised to be. Marie had been shy and acutely seasick after crossing the channel from Le Havre, where harsh winds had taken its toll on her ships. The nervousness could have been easy to attribute to entering a foreign court at the age of fifteen, but with hindsight Joan realized that deeper issues laid behind it. The death of her father at the hands of the Duke of Lorraine, the captivity of her brother in Flanders, and the civil wars that had torn the realm apart for years and led to the Spanish sack of Toulouse would not have been the best times for a princess of France to grow up. Neither did the cruel treatment of her mother or the cold absence of Isabelle of Portugal, two women whom would have been figures of support and guidance for her as she came of age.
Joan had only a few memories of her own mother, as Anne Neville had died when she had been mere five years old. She could only recall that her hair had been the color of burnished gold, pin straight, tucked underneath her beehive hennin and the harsh cough that often plagued her delicate and pale frame. Her full sister, Eleanor resembled her the most had she heard growing up, while Joan took after her father’s darker coloring.
James had held her as she wept upon hearing of her father’s death in 1505. Weeks later she had delivered a small and dark boy at the Falkland castle, a son that lived no more than two months. She had always remembered that the baby’s features resembled his grandfather and prayed often that they had been reunited in the heavens above her.
Twenty-five years of peace and prosperity. James’s reign had been a watershed in Scottish history, with few infighting among the nobility and no wars with England for over a generation. Twenty-three years of marriage and four living children to safeguard the crown.
“I should have been kinder to Marie.” Joan thought, grief roiling insider her like the ocean in a storm. “I had a blessed and happy marriage for so long and this is my punishment for my cruelty to Marie.”
Upon reaching her apartments in the castle of Edinburgh Joan dismissed her ladies and withdrew to her bedchamber. And in the solitude the bereaved woman who had been Queen of Scotland nine days ago dropped her head in her hands and let the heavy tears finally fall.
Her son came to see her a fortnight later and they dined in private on roasted saithe and baked asparagus with cheese and bread. Joan did suspect his visit was not entirely a social one and at the end of the meal, James confirmed it as the subject turned to politics. As he was a young widower at the age of nearly twenty with an infant girl as his heir, the new king’s first priority would be to find a new queen and he wished to discuss the matter with her. The future of his youngest sister, Mary would also be planned for even if she had just turned five. The choice of brides for Scotland was rather slim in that year, with many potential candidates being either to young, or already wedded and others not interested in joining with a remote realm like Scotland. The Dukes of Lorraine and Savoy both had daughters of the right age, but neither had any interest in Scotland and the Emperor would never give his eldest granddaughter to James when she could wed elsewhere with higher prestige. Charlotte of France would be in the right age, and France, despite its recent ravages was still one of the most prestigious kingdoms in Christendom. The english princess Elizabeth of York would be a splendid fit and so would the Brabantian ladies, Margaret and Philippa, but they were still too young for marriage. The Grand Duke had a niece however, Jaquetta of Saint Pol. The lady in question had turned fourteen and would certainly work as a ducal proxy. An alliance with Brabant would certainly benefit Scotland and Jaquetta would certainly bring a royal dowry fitting her status. The trade benefits for Scotland would work well and the prospect of his niece becoming Queen would entice the duke, always keen to extend the Brabantian influence.
Moreover, many important people felt like the Auld Alliance that had been created in 1290 had not brought the benefits to the kingdom as hoped for. And while Marie de Valois had been the sister of Charles IX, the kingdom of France had been a fractured and ravaged one after 1510. Scotland were not in the same impoverished kingdom as they had been long ago and now could ask for another alliance with a great kingdom. And there were few ones as splendid as the Grand Duchy of Brabant. The king’s decision to pursue Jaquetta paid off and a year later she arrived in Edinburgh with dowry of 150,000 florins and chests loaded with jewellery, tapestries and plates of gold and silver. As an highly educated and cultured lady, she made an instant impression on the Scots and her husband who seemed to find her enthralling. And in the dowager queen, Jacquetta found a caring and kind new mother.
Jacquetta of Saint-Pol, Queen of Scotland
Author's Note: So we made a detour to Scotland all of a sudden. Not the most cheerful of visit, but everyone can't be happy all the time. And James still died in 1513, even without the Battle of Flodden Field. I guess some things are meant to happen. Man, the Valois family have no luck in this TL.
The king of Scotland died nine days before his daughter-in law passed away. The new Queen of Scots had breathed her last in Stirling Palace on the 17th of May, leaving her infant daughter, Joan Stewart motherless at the mere age of eight months old, her sole contribution to the royal house of Scotland before her death at the age of seventeen. Marie of Valois never had time to bear the crown intended for her head as a fever had caused her demise. The messengers, wearing black garments for mourning, whom had arrived to proclaim her queen, returned to the court in Edinburgh with even more sad announcement for their new sovereign, James V, king of Scots and the sixth Stewart monarch of the realm.
Marie of Valois the Nine Days Queen, Posthumous portrait in 1514
Joan of Gloucester took the loss of Marie far less hard than her husband as she had never approved of her son’s wife. Her primary fault had been that she was French, of all things and the eldest daughter of Richard III of England had no love for that kingdom. But neither had she desired Marie’s death and a sense of guilt had come over her at the news. She should have been kinder to her, done more to make her feel welcome to the Scottish kingdom, so different from the Loire Valley where she had grown up. Marie’s original betrothal had been to the Holy Roman Empire, but the ascension of John III to the throne of Castile had made Maximilian I more interested in allying with the mighty king of Spain and the chaos that had engulfed France had been the final nail in the coffin for that future alliance.
James had been the picture of regal courtesy upon her arrival and Jamie behaved as the prince he was raised to be. Marie had been shy and acutely seasick after crossing the channel from Le Havre, where harsh winds had taken its toll on her ships. The nervousness could have been easy to attribute to entering a foreign court at the age of fifteen, but with hindsight Joan realized that deeper issues laid behind it. The death of her father at the hands of the Duke of Lorraine, the captivity of her brother in Flanders, and the civil wars that had torn the realm apart for years and led to the Spanish sack of Toulouse would not have been the best times for a princess of France to grow up. Neither did the cruel treatment of her mother or the cold absence of Isabelle of Portugal, two women whom would have been figures of support and guidance for her as she came of age.
Joan had only a few memories of her own mother, as Anne Neville had died when she had been mere five years old. She could only recall that her hair had been the color of burnished gold, pin straight, tucked underneath her beehive hennin and the harsh cough that often plagued her delicate and pale frame. Her full sister, Eleanor resembled her the most had she heard growing up, while Joan took after her father’s darker coloring.
James had held her as she wept upon hearing of her father’s death in 1505. Weeks later she had delivered a small and dark boy at the Falkland castle, a son that lived no more than two months. She had always remembered that the baby’s features resembled his grandfather and prayed often that they had been reunited in the heavens above her.
Twenty-five years of peace and prosperity. James’s reign had been a watershed in Scottish history, with few infighting among the nobility and no wars with England for over a generation. Twenty-three years of marriage and four living children to safeguard the crown.
“I should have been kinder to Marie.” Joan thought, grief roiling insider her like the ocean in a storm. “I had a blessed and happy marriage for so long and this is my punishment for my cruelty to Marie.”
Upon reaching her apartments in the castle of Edinburgh Joan dismissed her ladies and withdrew to her bedchamber. And in the solitude the bereaved woman who had been Queen of Scotland nine days ago dropped her head in her hands and let the heavy tears finally fall.
Her son came to see her a fortnight later and they dined in private on roasted saithe and baked asparagus with cheese and bread. Joan did suspect his visit was not entirely a social one and at the end of the meal, James confirmed it as the subject turned to politics. As he was a young widower at the age of nearly twenty with an infant girl as his heir, the new king’s first priority would be to find a new queen and he wished to discuss the matter with her. The future of his youngest sister, Mary would also be planned for even if she had just turned five. The choice of brides for Scotland was rather slim in that year, with many potential candidates being either to young, or already wedded and others not interested in joining with a remote realm like Scotland. The Dukes of Lorraine and Savoy both had daughters of the right age, but neither had any interest in Scotland and the Emperor would never give his eldest granddaughter to James when she could wed elsewhere with higher prestige. Charlotte of France would be in the right age, and France, despite its recent ravages was still one of the most prestigious kingdoms in Christendom. The english princess Elizabeth of York would be a splendid fit and so would the Brabantian ladies, Margaret and Philippa, but they were still too young for marriage. The Grand Duke had a niece however, Jaquetta of Saint Pol. The lady in question had turned fourteen and would certainly work as a ducal proxy. An alliance with Brabant would certainly benefit Scotland and Jaquetta would certainly bring a royal dowry fitting her status. The trade benefits for Scotland would work well and the prospect of his niece becoming Queen would entice the duke, always keen to extend the Brabantian influence.
Moreover, many important people felt like the Auld Alliance that had been created in 1290 had not brought the benefits to the kingdom as hoped for. And while Marie de Valois had been the sister of Charles IX, the kingdom of France had been a fractured and ravaged one after 1510. Scotland were not in the same impoverished kingdom as they had been long ago and now could ask for another alliance with a great kingdom. And there were few ones as splendid as the Grand Duchy of Brabant. The king’s decision to pursue Jaquetta paid off and a year later she arrived in Edinburgh with dowry of 150,000 florins and chests loaded with jewellery, tapestries and plates of gold and silver. As an highly educated and cultured lady, she made an instant impression on the Scots and her husband who seemed to find her enthralling. And in the dowager queen, Jacquetta found a caring and kind new mother.
Jacquetta of Saint-Pol, Queen of Scotland
Author's Note: So we made a detour to Scotland all of a sudden. Not the most cheerful of visit, but everyone can't be happy all the time. And James still died in 1513, even without the Battle of Flodden Field. I guess some things are meant to happen. Man, the Valois family have no luck in this TL.
How you like them apples?