Queen Of Four Kingdoms, The (27 page)

Instead, the result of the Montereau debacle is predictable. Far from forgiving Charles, Philippe decides to achieve peace by joining the stronger party, England. Meanwhile, the king and
parlement
have decided to punish all involved in Montereau. The decision is not Philippe’s but since the king needs the support of Burgundy, the new duke’s desire for retribution will be honoured.

Back at court, Pierre relays all the crucial information to the Queen of Sicily in Provence. The representatives of the two sovereigns, Henry V and Charles VI, are to meet at Troyes, about a day’s ride south-east of Paris. In May 1420, the two kings are to sign a definitive treaty in recognition of France’s defeat at Agincourt five years earlier. The Treaty of Troyes is formalized but with one small last-minute adjustment – the king’s madness has set in again after he heard about the assassination on the bridge, and in light of this, it is his queen, Isabeau, who will sign in his place.

How can such a treaty be anything but a disaster for France? And so it proves.

The terms of the Treaty of Troyes are harsh and unprecedented. The dauphin, Charles, is formally disinherited ‘on account of his involvement in the murder of the king’s cousin, Duke Jean of Burgundy’. In his place, Charles VI of France recognizes Henry V of England as his heir.

When Yolande hears this, she cannot believe it. Queen Isabeau has agreed to sign away the crown of France from the last-living of her five sons? It cannot be true!

The king will retain the crown for his lifetime and then it will pass to Henry V. The King of England is to marry the Valois princess Catherine, daughter of Charles VI. Their son, when born, will rule over France and England.

Throughout her married life, the Queen of Sicily has fought against such a catastrophe – to lose France to England. What greater tragedy could befall her adopted country – and her adopted son, France’s rightful dauphin!

She must write at once to Charles and try to give him courage. René must go to him; also Pierre de Brézé and Jean de Dunois. And she is far away, confined to Provence! How her heart aches for them all, and for her dear Louis’ France.

Charles, the prince she has raised with such care, is officially disinherited and banished. All his privileges as dauphin are gone as well as his territories of the Dauphiné and Touraine. All that is left to him is his inheritance from his uncle Duke Jean of Berry. Parlement has decreed that the plotters of Montereau must be apprehended and punished – but nothing seems to be happening in that regard.

The king’s heralds post the treaty and its stipulations in every town square. There is universal disbelief and shaking of heads. The inhabitants of towns and villages all over the country lament one to another, ‘Did our sons have to die for
this
? Our daughters become widows? Their children grow up without fathers? And we become old without sons to support us?’

The good people of Anjou and Provence look to their duchess for solace.
What can I do to console and help?
she bemoans to herself. There is no one she can confide in; her only comfort is her three great wolfhounds, who never leave her side.

Not until 1 December 1420 does Henry V of England arrive in Paris to make his official entry. He has come in splendour to claim his lawful spoils from the great English victory at Agincourt. Both Pierre de Brézé and René are in the capital, incognito. Pierre with the order to report to Yolande, René to sense the atmosphere and be in a position to inform not only his mother but his future father-in-law of the true feeling of the Parisians. Then he heads for Provence.

A courier arrives at Tarascon announcing that René is one day’s ride away.
The dear boy is coming from Paris to comfort me,
thinks Yolande, and she rejoices. Just the sight of him lifts her spirits. As René is rowed across the narrow neck of the River Rhône opposite the chateau, she runs to meet him at the steps and embraces him with all the longing and frustration of her missing family life.

‘How you have grown, darling son, quite a young man!’
How well he looks, and strong.
His hair is still red, but darker, and she detects the beginnings of a beard. ‘Welcome home to Tarascon – how long has it been?’ she sighs, as they climb the steps arm in arm.

‘Maman, dearest – no pleasantries. I must unburden myself to you first with what you want to hear from me, an eyewitness. It will be hard for you to believe when I tell you – so be prepared. But first, I must change and wash.

Now settled in her comfortable sitting room, René takes his mother’s hand: ‘Maman – the Parisians actually welcomed the English king, and with great acclaim!’ He looks at her for a reaction, but she merely lowers her eyes – how much more sorrow is there? ‘I know how this will hurt you, but I saw him with my own eyes as he rode into the city, our dear demented king by his side, together with the triumphant Duke Philippe of Burgundy!’

Now she is indeed in shock.
Are there any more tears left in me for poor France? And what of our rightful dauphin? Who will stand for him except me and my family? Who else can I count on to help me reverse this shameful future for our country?

Despite all the anguish, it is still bliss to have René at home, chattering like a merry brook. He tells her about life in Bar, and complains mournfully that he has not yet met his future wife, Isabelle. She is still, quite properly thinks Yolande, being kept from him until she has reached puberty. But he is full of colourful descriptions of his hunting expeditions, the countryside, the towns and villages, his horses, his archery, the jousting he has been learning. ‘Maman, do you know that there are mountains to climb and wild goats and chamois to hunt? I saw lynx and eagle owls, and the forests are plentiful with deer and wild boar,’ he says enthusiastically.

Jean Dunois, the hero of his childhood, who is stationed at Bourges helping the dauphin with his small army there, has visited René several times and joined him in his adventures in Bar. But his life has not just been about the pleasures of the chase. He tells her of the excellent music and laughter of the court, and of how he himself has taken up painting, under the guidance of the court painter, Mr van Eyck – even showing her some of his work.

‘I have to say, I am impressed. You have a real gift and must pursue it. May I have one of these?’ she asks. And in a spontaneous gesture so typical of him, he hands her the lot.

‘Maman, my dearest mother, take them all. I find it so difficult to think of ways to bring you pleasure and reward for all you do for us children. Do you
really
like them?’ he asks eagerly.

She kisses him in thanks and traces a cross with her finger on his forehead as she always did when they were small, a little private blessing.

‘And tell me about my Marie – have you been to Bourges?’

‘Oh yes, Maman, several times since I last wrote. Marie is desperate and I try to have her visit me at Nancy to cheer her. But she will not leave Bourges or Charles. Do you think their marriage will ever happen now?’ It is a silent worry they share.

‘Of course it will, darling! It is only a matter of the right time.’ But she is not so sure either.

Thereafter, at his mother’s request, René divides his time between Anjou and Maine, which he rules for his absent brother Louis, and Lorraine under the guardianship of his future father-in-law, Duke Charles. At other times he is in neighbouring Bar with her cardinal-uncle. Both try their best to educate him for his forthcoming role ruling their duchies. Ensconced in the south, Yolande relies a great deal on René, not only to keep her informed – she has others who do that for her as well – but to be the heart of their family in France.

Stranded, as she sometimes feels, in the south, looking out for Louis’ interests, Yolande relies on her correspondence with her children to raise her spirits. René’s letters have the power to lift her out of the dullest day. Marie also writes often, although her letters are usually asking for advice and never frivolous as René’s can be at times. As for her darling eldest, Louis writes as well, mostly about technical things – landholdings and battle formations, equipment needed for damage caused by his troops or his enemy’s. He encloses drawings for the two youngest, Yolande and Charles, who send their own drawings back.

Lonely? Yes, sometimes, although she has her ladies if she wants company and of course her beloved dogs, but it is not the same as having her husband and children sharing her life. If only she had Juana with her to share the silent evenings. When overcome by such moods, Yolande forces herself to remember Marie de Blois and all she had to suffer.

One day, when she has spent hours with the harbourmaster in Marseilles and needs a long bath, she returns to their town palace to find an ecstatic letter from René.

‘Maman dearest
–
at last the day has arrived. Isabelle is here! My first sight of my future bride has me, the so-called bold one of our family, shaking all over. She has come home to Nancy at last and I am in love with her at first sight. She is tall, blonde and slender – like you, Maman; she sings like a nightingale and speaks to me so sweetly and cleverly that I am instantly her slave. Thank you, dearest of mothers, for producing for me, a second son with no great talents and no wealth, not one but two dukedoms. As if that was not enough, you have given me the woman of my dreams!’

And Yolande laughs, and her heart is filled with his happiness.

His next letter is so brief and so typical, it delights her.

‘Maman dearest, it has not taken me long to realize that Isabelle is much cleverer than me – no bad thing; it will be her duchy after all, so better if she takes the decisions when the time comes. Your loving son, René.’

F
ollowing the Treaty of Troyes, France has been divided into three zones, all governed separately. Normandy in the north is ruled for the English from Rouen, and many of the Normans find the association with England financially beneficial. Normandy’s administrators are French as before, but the defence of the territory is overseen by the English army. However, a number of the Norman noblemen have fled the English and joined the dauphin in his zone in central and southern France, along the Loire and the Cher rivers – at Bourges, Melun and Tours. Charles has become known derisively as the King of Bourges, since the capital of his dukedom of Berry is the seat of his administration, such as it is. The area in the middle of France, between the rivers Somme and Loire, is governed from Paris by the Burgundians, together with their allies the English.

Now that Charles has been disinherited by the Treaty of Troyes, he has only his income from his sovereign territory of Berry to finance his small court. Other than that Charles has only the support of his
bonne mère
to provide for him and his needs. Yolande regards this as her duty, and she does it willingly, even at the expense of her own children. She has explained to them that this was their father’s instruction to her before his death, and, brought up to be obedient and loyal, they accept her decision without a murmur.

With the English in such a powerful position, the Duke of Lorraine and the Queen of Sicily decide that for their own security and that of their territories, their children Isabelle and René should marry at once. The wedding takes place on 24 October 1420 at Nancy. Isabelle, who is nearly twelve, and René, almost fourteen, are married by his uncle, the Duke of Bar. By this union, the duchies of Bar and Lorraine are now officially joined, creating a considerable barrier for the potential aggression of Philippe of Burgundy and his English allies.

Yolande is heartbroken not to be able to travel to Lorraine in time, nor can Marie leave Bourges, but Yolande advises René to take Isabelle to visit his sister soon after the wedding. As long as the Duke of Lorraine lives, René is not yet obliged to stay put there, and Yolande wants Marie to remain a stabilizing presence for Charles in Bourges.

René understands, and writes to his mother a few days later:

Dearest Maman,

You have asked me for a full description of my wedding, and I will do my best to tell you how lovely my Isabelle looked – and will forever afterwards. Her hair hung loose below her shoulders with a circlet of small diamonds holding a fine golden gossamer veil on her head, a translucent covering which trailed behind her. Her dress was of smooth cream damask with a high, wide neckline, long in the waist before sweeping back with fullness into a train. Around her waist, hanging low in front from her hips, she wore a delicate but wide girdle of gold thread, and I caught the occasional flash of small diamonds. When I saw her enter the church, I had to remember to breathe, because her loveliness stopped my heart from beating.

I do not recall much of the service – I was so overwhelmed that this divine creature, this gentle young lady, was to be my wife that I prayed for – I think – the first time in my life,
really
prayed, and thanked the Lord and you, my dearest mother, for such a great gift.

Before the wedding Yolande wrote to Isabelle’s mother, but it was the duke who replied. They both decided that the young couple, who must marry now for the sake of uniting their respective dukedoms, should not share a bed for at least another year, since Isabelle has only just reached puberty.

René comments to his mother when he hears their terms:

‘Looking at her on our wedding day, I hope the year will pass quickly.’

Throughout the spring and summer of 1421 following the fateful Treaty of Troyes, Charles is active, appearing in full armour at the head of his troops, projecting an image of his position as dauphin despite his being disinherited by the treaty. He is often seen by the common people riding on the road surrounded by an impressive entourage decked out in his livery colours – white, red and blue – as he moves at a fast pace between his towns, drumming up support wherever he can. Flying his banners, with his device of an armoured hand grasping a naked sword and another of St Michael slaying a serpent, his troops give a convincing impression of legitimate and prestigious authority.