ld even now, after centuries
have passed. In time of peace, too often, she was considered little
better than a beast of burden. Men of the peasant class gathered hazy
notions of the world and its doings at the alehouses. But the cat or dog
upon the hearth was not more dumb, intellectually, than the average
peasant woman. One searches the records of history in vain to find,
during the Renaissance and Reformation periods, a single peasant woman
anywhere in Germany who rose notably above her class.

The influence of Marguerite of Austria, aunt, guardian, and closest
adviser of Charles V. upon the destiny of Germany was incalculably
great. That Charles, instead of his rival, Francis I. of France, was
chosen emperor was mainly due to Marguerite's persistent efforts in
behalf of her nephew, whom she idolized. Marguerite kept the Fuggers
constantly on Charles's side a stroke of wisdom that carried the
election. The life story of Marguerite of Austria, daughter of
Maximilian and granddaughter of Charles the Bold, is almost unknown to
English readers. It is worth telling at some length for it illustrates
an important phase in the history of German womanhood the way in which
royal girls were disposed of in marriage.

Storms in the life of Marguerite began long before the Reformation. At
the age of two years she lost her mother, beautiful Mary of Burgundy,
daughter of Charles the Bold. The young queen's last words were spoken
to her "Daisy." "Farewell, farewell, my sweetest little daughter," she
murmured. "Thou art too soon left motherless." At the age of four,
Marguerite, for political reasons, was married to the Dauphin of France,
afterward known as Charles VIII., who was ten years her senior. The
marriage was solemnized with great pomp at Amboise. After the ceremony
the tired, bewildered baby was returned to her good governess, Madame
Secrete.

Marguerite, up to her twelfth year, was educated wholly with a view to
her future position as Queen of France. But the pride of Charles the
Bold ran in the little maid's veins. She never forgot that she was the
"daughter of Caesar." Caesar himself "Our Max," "Beggar Max," "Spendthrift
Max," "Mayor of Augsburg," "Hunter Max," as he was variously called by
his people, but always with a "God bless him!" added could, and a
hundred times a day did, easily throw off the imperial dignity; but
stately little Marguerite never laid hers aside, even in her childish
games with the French royal ch