The Grand Duchy of the West - A Valois-Burgundian TL
- Thread starter BlueFlowwer
- Start date
Poor king Charles thou. First your dad takes you with him while he's invading the low countries, then he dies in battle, then you become king for like 3 minutes, kills your uncle and then gets taken captive by your other uncle, and locked away, meanwhile everything goes to hell in your own kingdom and you return after your uncle kicks you out to strife and failure. Man's gonna develop a drinking problem at this point.
They aren't. France is filing complaints against me as we speak.
Its a good thing I don't speak French so I can't understand what they are saying.Im sure they are
Damn even if France does start to improve it may take a long time given the destruction that occurred...
Indeed. It's gonna take a while before the strife is healed.
now that's very good for Brabant and co, but we still know that France is going for the conquest of Burgundy (and that they're gonna succeed) so I wonder how well the French rebuild before launching that war that centralises the nation.
Well, not to spoil anything, but the outcome of the rebellion is actually going to favour the french monarchy in the long run. And do not discount the strength of french nationality.
That makes sense considering how the French got humiliated, and it allows France to still become the main power of Europe for a while.
I'm just sad that Brittany will be forced to fold tho.
Like I said, the empire strikes back. Charles's successor is both vicious and manipulative.
Me too, but realistically I think Brittany is destined to be submerged into the crown eventually.
Chapter 32 – The Holy Roman Empire in 1500
A Scandal in Bohemia Hungary
Her father, the emperor would never forgive her for doing this. Not only would she be tarnished for the rest of her life, but also the object of gossiping tongues in every court in Christendom. Her mother would declare her dead in her heart and her brother’s children would have to seek the even more prestigious matches to make up for the smears she would bring on the House of Hapsburg. All of this weighted on the mind of Hedwig von Hapsburg, the youngest archduchess of Austria on that frosty morning on January of 1500 as she snuck further away from the white covered area of the grounds of the royal castle in Buda. Her two closest ladies in waiting would cover for her for the early hours after dawn, as they had planned for several months. If she could pull it off, if her ladies were smart enough and above else, if he would be where she prayed, he would be, then the future she now made a desperate gamble to grasp would become a reality.
The frozen river Danube laid silent and cold by the banks of the castle and the falling snow muffled every sound around her. Hedwig clutched her warm fur robe around her shoulders, the sable damp with melting flakes. He should be meeting her at this place, before the morning bustle began, delayed right now by the thick snow. If he did not come for her before the time was too late, then the thickening sense of despair enclosing on her heart would consume her. She would make the river her bridegroom instead, encasing herself into his icy embrace and be carried away in his dark waters, far away from any other human. Shutting her eyes, she uttered a prayer to Saint Jude, the patron saint of desperate causes and hopelessness, uttering the Latin words with more fervour than she had ever prayed with in her fifteen years of life so far.
The clopping of horse’s hooves came to her ears shortly before uttering the last syllables of prayers and the sight of riders far away in the distance, backlit by the first gleam of dawn, came to her newly opened vision. For a very long moment, Hedwig’s chest contracted in fear, what if those men were from someone else, or even worse, guards from her father? She could not make out any features yet, the darkness shrouded everything and the snow fell, thick and silent. The river lay at her side, a death of despair if her hope melted with the flakes or a life in defiance with the man, she hoped was the rider at the front of the ground approaching her.
She recognized the rich clothes the man wore before she could see his face clearly. He had come, as he promised he would. He was here. He was here. He was here. Hedwig felt several hot tears running down her cold cheeks, as the overwhelming relief left her trembling. The man in a rich robed cloak of dark fur, black velvets and scarlet cloth drew up his dark stallion in front of her, his face marked by a youthful brown beard and a heavy brow set above dark green eyes. He looks every bit like the noble lord he is, and if she did not know he was not an imperial prince, the regal set of his shoulders and the arrogance in his glance would convince even the sharpest of courtiers. Right now, this glance in anything but haughty, as he looks almost as relieved as her. It takes a herculean effort to make her feet move even a sole step right now, but she somehow manages to move towards the side of his horse, where his fur-clad leg cradle the fine animal’s flank, reaching out to grasp for his glowed hand coming down to meet her pale and slim fingers. For a moment, there is only silence as she presses the black embroidered leather to her lips, in a wordless act of devotion to the future husband she intends to choose herself. His lips utter her name, almost in reverence, as one prays to the saints themselves.
“Hedwig, my love. My darling. I have come for you. Will you go with me? It will only be an hour of riding to reach the chapel from here.”
“Yes, I will go with you. I’ll go to the end of the earth if I need to. Take me away from here. Take me to the chapel and make me your wife.”
The sheer look of joy on his face is enough to shame the dawn itself, Hedwig decides as he grasp her upper arm to pull her up on in front of his stallion, sweeping the folds of his cloak around her and calls out to the men in his retinue that it is time to leave the banks of the river.
Mere hours later, the imperial household sounds the bells across the palace and its grounds. The youngest daughter of Emperor Maximilian has gone missing and no one can find her in the city of Budapest. At the riverbank the falling snow had since long covered up any tracks of archduchess, lords and horses and the shimmering morning has vanquished the actions occurring within the shrouds of darkness.
Castle of Buda in 1490
To say that the secret marriage between Archduchess Hedwig of Austria and Stephen VIII Báthory became an imperial scandal is to put it very lightly. The two lovers had known each other’s since 1491 when the Báthory family had become part of the imperial court after Maximilian’s election as King of Hungary. In order to make his heir more accepted by the magnates of the country, he had invited sons of the leading families to become part of Archduke Frederick’s household and circle. Being only two years older, Stephen had become part friend, part rival to the emperor’s son since then. Hedwig would certainly have crossed her path with him many times over the years and unbeknownst to all, something more than friendliness had developed between them. Hedwig had been betrothed to Louis of the Palatinate, the future Elector Palatine in order to bind the Hapsburgs closer to the German rulers. The marriage was due to take place in summer of 1500 with a sumptuous celebration to accompany their union. The news of his bride to be eloping with a Hungarian magnate made Louis laugh initially, dismissing it as a teenage flight of fancy. However, it soon became clear that the marriage had really occurred, with several witnesses present and that it had culminated in a proper bedding. Maximilian’s rage at the match was immense, as it had taken more then three weeks before he found out about Hedwig’s disappearance. The harsh winter had bogged the messengers down on the road and it reaching him first in Vienna. It would be another two weeks before the whereabouts of his wayward daughter became clear. At that point, Hedwig and Stephen had been married for over five weeks, safely ensconced on the Báthory estate. Hedwig came quickly into her own as the mistress of the estate, taking over from her ailing mother-in law Sophia. Many people could not believe their eyes upon seeing the imperial princess tracking around, acquainting herself with the buildings and the lands. In contrast with the frail and meek Sophia, Hedwig proved to be a robust, efficient and firm lady, who made sure the Bathory estate would reflect the high standing of one of the most important magnates in Hungary.
The first person of the imperial family to meet Hedwig again after the marriage would not be her furious father as she had believed, but her only brother, Frederick. The archduke would arrive about ten weeks after his sister eloped from Buda Castle to the Báthory home. Most likely it was his intention draw Hedwig back to Austria with words alone and to make her declare that the marriage had been based on lies and that she thus could be spared from humiliation. If not, Maximilian had prepared a messenger to travel to Rome, with a petition for the Holy Father to annul the match outright. However, the emperor hoped to avoid the tangles with the scandal plagued Pope Alexander VI, as that would take both time and further cause the it to be more whispered about. Archduke Frederick was received by Stephen with the splendor benefiting an imperial heir; feasting and dancing followed until the long hours of the night.
Frederick got to speak to Hedwig in private the next day. Its likely that he strongly pressed her with the disgrace she had brought on their family, their father’s imperial standing and their alliances with the German ruling families and the next imperial election that they had to win. Hedwig, most likely playing along, agreed that she would return to her father and pray for his forgiveness. Frederick left his sister to her prayers, believing that he had solved the scandal without further drama. He had however, underestimated her determination to stay with her Hungarian husband. Hedwig made her counter-move the following evening at the beginning of the feast attended by even more guests. Standing up, she commanded everyone’s attention by declaring that she had glorious news that had to be shared.
And it was in front of the gathered attendants, comprised of Hungarian nobles, clerics and imperial envoys that she announced she was carrying a child under her heart. As she herself allegedly stated was
“A most blessed child granted to me and my lord and husband”
She claimed that her baby would be born in the middle of November and prayed that it would be a son with the bloodline of both the Empire and the Báthory family. Surely her most christian father would be delighted by the news of his grandchild being brought up by this very mighty and respected lord, most worthy of admiration.
Hedwig never returned to her father as a repentant daughter. Her pregnancy derailed the emperor’s plans and despite his fury over her actions, declaring his own grandchild an illegitimate bastard, something that would certainly alienate the Báthory family and other Hungarian magnates, as well as branding Hedwig as a whore for the whole of Christendom was something even Maximilian was unwilling to go through with.
The birth of Elizabeth Báthory, or Erzsébet as her Hungarian name was, occurred on a misty and frosty night. Despite her not being the hoped for son, Stephen and Hedwig seemed delighted by their daughter and her christening became a splendid affair, with the baby warmly wrapped in costly fur and rich velvet. Three years later, her brother would receive an even grander celebration at his baptism. By the time of 1503, Empress Hedwig and Archduchess Hedwig would no longer be on speaking terms, as the latter’s elopement had come as such a chock to the former that she no longer considered her worthy of mentioning. On the other hands, Hedwig Báthory remained friend with Anne, Queen of Romans. Frederick’s beloved wife had tried to mediate between her husband and father-in law, as the Báthory marriage had caused splinters to appear in the imperial family. After 1503, the Empress became more and more withdrawn from court and Anne assumed the position as leading lady in the imperial household. Hedwig’s elopement caused Frederick to consider the matches his children would make even more carefully and it was his idea to make an alliance with Spain for his eldest son Maximilian. The Spanish match was mostly to combat the treat of the ottomans, but also to link the prestigious kingdoms together against France. The rest of Frederick and Anne’s children would also make grand matches benefiting the empire, even if some of them lead to personal tragedies as well as a rather tumultuous 16th century for the Hapsburgs themselves to come.
Hedwig of Austria, Lady Báthory in 1503
Author's Note: Hi guys. Did you miss me? Sorry for the delays in updating, I have had both writers block and fatigued from work for several weeks now, so I haven't been able to continue writing this tl regularly anymore. I planned for chapter 32 to be about Brabant and Frisia, but I decided to write an imperial scandal instead. Hope you like this little austrian drama I created!
Her father, the emperor would never forgive her for doing this. Not only would she be tarnished for the rest of her life, but also the object of gossiping tongues in every court in Christendom. Her mother would declare her dead in her heart and her brother’s children would have to seek the even more prestigious matches to make up for the smears she would bring on the House of Hapsburg. All of this weighted on the mind of Hedwig von Hapsburg, the youngest archduchess of Austria on that frosty morning on January of 1500 as she snuck further away from the white covered area of the grounds of the royal castle in Buda. Her two closest ladies in waiting would cover for her for the early hours after dawn, as they had planned for several months. If she could pull it off, if her ladies were smart enough and above else, if he would be where she prayed, he would be, then the future she now made a desperate gamble to grasp would become a reality.
The frozen river Danube laid silent and cold by the banks of the castle and the falling snow muffled every sound around her. Hedwig clutched her warm fur robe around her shoulders, the sable damp with melting flakes. He should be meeting her at this place, before the morning bustle began, delayed right now by the thick snow. If he did not come for her before the time was too late, then the thickening sense of despair enclosing on her heart would consume her. She would make the river her bridegroom instead, encasing herself into his icy embrace and be carried away in his dark waters, far away from any other human. Shutting her eyes, she uttered a prayer to Saint Jude, the patron saint of desperate causes and hopelessness, uttering the Latin words with more fervour than she had ever prayed with in her fifteen years of life so far.
The clopping of horse’s hooves came to her ears shortly before uttering the last syllables of prayers and the sight of riders far away in the distance, backlit by the first gleam of dawn, came to her newly opened vision. For a very long moment, Hedwig’s chest contracted in fear, what if those men were from someone else, or even worse, guards from her father? She could not make out any features yet, the darkness shrouded everything and the snow fell, thick and silent. The river lay at her side, a death of despair if her hope melted with the flakes or a life in defiance with the man, she hoped was the rider at the front of the ground approaching her.
She recognized the rich clothes the man wore before she could see his face clearly. He had come, as he promised he would. He was here. He was here. He was here. Hedwig felt several hot tears running down her cold cheeks, as the overwhelming relief left her trembling. The man in a rich robed cloak of dark fur, black velvets and scarlet cloth drew up his dark stallion in front of her, his face marked by a youthful brown beard and a heavy brow set above dark green eyes. He looks every bit like the noble lord he is, and if she did not know he was not an imperial prince, the regal set of his shoulders and the arrogance in his glance would convince even the sharpest of courtiers. Right now, this glance in anything but haughty, as he looks almost as relieved as her. It takes a herculean effort to make her feet move even a sole step right now, but she somehow manages to move towards the side of his horse, where his fur-clad leg cradle the fine animal’s flank, reaching out to grasp for his glowed hand coming down to meet her pale and slim fingers. For a moment, there is only silence as she presses the black embroidered leather to her lips, in a wordless act of devotion to the future husband she intends to choose herself. His lips utter her name, almost in reverence, as one prays to the saints themselves.
“Hedwig, my love. My darling. I have come for you. Will you go with me? It will only be an hour of riding to reach the chapel from here.”
“Yes, I will go with you. I’ll go to the end of the earth if I need to. Take me away from here. Take me to the chapel and make me your wife.”
The sheer look of joy on his face is enough to shame the dawn itself, Hedwig decides as he grasp her upper arm to pull her up on in front of his stallion, sweeping the folds of his cloak around her and calls out to the men in his retinue that it is time to leave the banks of the river.
Mere hours later, the imperial household sounds the bells across the palace and its grounds. The youngest daughter of Emperor Maximilian has gone missing and no one can find her in the city of Budapest. At the riverbank the falling snow had since long covered up any tracks of archduchess, lords and horses and the shimmering morning has vanquished the actions occurring within the shrouds of darkness.
Castle of Buda in 1490
To say that the secret marriage between Archduchess Hedwig of Austria and Stephen VIII Báthory became an imperial scandal is to put it very lightly. The two lovers had known each other’s since 1491 when the Báthory family had become part of the imperial court after Maximilian’s election as King of Hungary. In order to make his heir more accepted by the magnates of the country, he had invited sons of the leading families to become part of Archduke Frederick’s household and circle. Being only two years older, Stephen had become part friend, part rival to the emperor’s son since then. Hedwig would certainly have crossed her path with him many times over the years and unbeknownst to all, something more than friendliness had developed between them. Hedwig had been betrothed to Louis of the Palatinate, the future Elector Palatine in order to bind the Hapsburgs closer to the German rulers. The marriage was due to take place in summer of 1500 with a sumptuous celebration to accompany their union. The news of his bride to be eloping with a Hungarian magnate made Louis laugh initially, dismissing it as a teenage flight of fancy. However, it soon became clear that the marriage had really occurred, with several witnesses present and that it had culminated in a proper bedding. Maximilian’s rage at the match was immense, as it had taken more then three weeks before he found out about Hedwig’s disappearance. The harsh winter had bogged the messengers down on the road and it reaching him first in Vienna. It would be another two weeks before the whereabouts of his wayward daughter became clear. At that point, Hedwig and Stephen had been married for over five weeks, safely ensconced on the Báthory estate. Hedwig came quickly into her own as the mistress of the estate, taking over from her ailing mother-in law Sophia. Many people could not believe their eyes upon seeing the imperial princess tracking around, acquainting herself with the buildings and the lands. In contrast with the frail and meek Sophia, Hedwig proved to be a robust, efficient and firm lady, who made sure the Bathory estate would reflect the high standing of one of the most important magnates in Hungary.
The first person of the imperial family to meet Hedwig again after the marriage would not be her furious father as she had believed, but her only brother, Frederick. The archduke would arrive about ten weeks after his sister eloped from Buda Castle to the Báthory home. Most likely it was his intention draw Hedwig back to Austria with words alone and to make her declare that the marriage had been based on lies and that she thus could be spared from humiliation. If not, Maximilian had prepared a messenger to travel to Rome, with a petition for the Holy Father to annul the match outright. However, the emperor hoped to avoid the tangles with the scandal plagued Pope Alexander VI, as that would take both time and further cause the it to be more whispered about. Archduke Frederick was received by Stephen with the splendor benefiting an imperial heir; feasting and dancing followed until the long hours of the night.
Frederick got to speak to Hedwig in private the next day. Its likely that he strongly pressed her with the disgrace she had brought on their family, their father’s imperial standing and their alliances with the German ruling families and the next imperial election that they had to win. Hedwig, most likely playing along, agreed that she would return to her father and pray for his forgiveness. Frederick left his sister to her prayers, believing that he had solved the scandal without further drama. He had however, underestimated her determination to stay with her Hungarian husband. Hedwig made her counter-move the following evening at the beginning of the feast attended by even more guests. Standing up, she commanded everyone’s attention by declaring that she had glorious news that had to be shared.
And it was in front of the gathered attendants, comprised of Hungarian nobles, clerics and imperial envoys that she announced she was carrying a child under her heart. As she herself allegedly stated was
“A most blessed child granted to me and my lord and husband”
She claimed that her baby would be born in the middle of November and prayed that it would be a son with the bloodline of both the Empire and the Báthory family. Surely her most christian father would be delighted by the news of his grandchild being brought up by this very mighty and respected lord, most worthy of admiration.
Hedwig never returned to her father as a repentant daughter. Her pregnancy derailed the emperor’s plans and despite his fury over her actions, declaring his own grandchild an illegitimate bastard, something that would certainly alienate the Báthory family and other Hungarian magnates, as well as branding Hedwig as a whore for the whole of Christendom was something even Maximilian was unwilling to go through with.
The birth of Elizabeth Báthory, or Erzsébet as her Hungarian name was, occurred on a misty and frosty night. Despite her not being the hoped for son, Stephen and Hedwig seemed delighted by their daughter and her christening became a splendid affair, with the baby warmly wrapped in costly fur and rich velvet. Three years later, her brother would receive an even grander celebration at his baptism. By the time of 1503, Empress Hedwig and Archduchess Hedwig would no longer be on speaking terms, as the latter’s elopement had come as such a chock to the former that she no longer considered her worthy of mentioning. On the other hands, Hedwig Báthory remained friend with Anne, Queen of Romans. Frederick’s beloved wife had tried to mediate between her husband and father-in law, as the Báthory marriage had caused splinters to appear in the imperial family. After 1503, the Empress became more and more withdrawn from court and Anne assumed the position as leading lady in the imperial household. Hedwig’s elopement caused Frederick to consider the matches his children would make even more carefully and it was his idea to make an alliance with Spain for his eldest son Maximilian. The Spanish match was mostly to combat the treat of the ottomans, but also to link the prestigious kingdoms together against France. The rest of Frederick and Anne’s children would also make grand matches benefiting the empire, even if some of them lead to personal tragedies as well as a rather tumultuous 16th century for the Hapsburgs themselves to come.
Hedwig of Austria, Lady Báthory in 1503
Author's Note: Hi guys. Did you miss me? Sorry for the delays in updating, I have had both writers block and fatigued from work for several weeks now, so I haven't been able to continue writing this tl regularly anymore. I planned for chapter 32 to be about Brabant and Frisia, but I decided to write an imperial scandal instead. Hope you like this little austrian drama I created!
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