Epitaph for Three Women (7 page)

The body of the King of France was taken to St Denis and there with appropriate ceremony laid to rest, The only Prince to attend was John, Duke of Bedford. He had hoped that Burgundy would be there, but clearly Burgundy would have no desire to pay homage to the Duke of Bedford. He could not expect that.

So far so good. The ceremony had progressed without incident. Now came the testing point. He must ride back to Paris and there proclaim his nephew King of France.

He was deeply conscious of the sullen crowds. He knew that any moment they might arise and attack him. He had his guards who would be on the alert for any disturbance, and they had no weapons but he did not underestimate the power of the mob. He thought of Henry and took courage from the fact that he was doing what his brother would have done had he been alive on this day. Before him rode one of his knights carrying a naked sword, which was an emblem of kingly authority. The people of Paris would be aware of that.

He sat his horse very still and silent as the proclamation rang out: ‘Long live Henry of Lancaster, King of England and King of France.’

He waited. They could have come against him then. He might be called upon to face the violence of a Paris mob. He was deeply aware of the sullen silence all about him.

No. It was well. They had had enough of fighting. They had starved and suffered; they had lost members of their families; they were a subdued and beaten people. They knew that at this time they dared do nothing but accept Henry of Lancaster as their King.

John believed their English claim was just and true – as Henry had always said and others before him. It came through Isabella who had been wife of Edward the Second, and if the French upheld the Salic Law the English did not. Moreover they had won by conquest. Still they were considered to be usurpers.

The ceremony was over. He had done his duty. As he rode on to the Louvre he heard the rumbling of voices and he knew the silence was over. Henry had been proclaimed but now the discontent would break out. He knew they were talking of Good King Charles, not mad King Charles, the poor ineffectual man, reduced at times by his madness almost to savagery. The man whose rule had brought disaster to France had become a saint.

Was it not always so?

There were dispatches from England waiting for him. He was tired, exhausted by the emotion of his recent experience. But he must read the dispatches. There could be something in them of the utmost importance.

He read and when he came to the news of his brother Humphrey he paused. He felt the blood rush to his face. He could not believe it. He read it twice. Humphrey … married to Jacqueline. It was impossible. The woman was married already … and to Brabant – a marriage arranged by Burgundy which meant that the wily Duke had his eyes on Hainault, Holland and Zealand. And Humphrey had had the stupidity to marry this woman. He could not have thought of a better way of arousing Burgundy’s wrath.

He read on. Benedict had annulled the marriage with Brabant …

Benedict. The anti-Pope!

Here was disaster. Burgundy would turn against them. They could not afford to make Burgundy an enemy. Burgundy was the most powerful man in France. Henry’s all but last words had been a warning about Burgundy. Never act in such a way as to make him your enemy. Why, he had even offered to make Burgundy Regent of France on his death bed and it was because Burgundy had refused that John himself had had to take on that tremendous task.

And now by this foolish marriage Humphrey would soon be involved in a quarrel with Burgundy.

Exhausted as he was by the ordeal through which he had just passed he must think now how best to act. Should he explain to Burgundy, consult with him?

Oh Henry, he thought, had you been living at this day this could never have happened.

Philip, Duke of Burgundy, one of the richest and most powerful men in France, was the son of John the Fearless. At the time of the battle of Agincourt Philip had been nineteen years old, already married to Michelle, who was the daughter of the King of France and had, as a child, shared with Katherine the privations of the Hôtel de St Pol. The greatest regret of Philip’s life to this time was that he had not been present at the famous battle which had led to the downfall of France. Duke John had given orders that his son was not to leave the Castle of Aire where he was staying at that time and his governor, on pain of severe penalty, had been warned that no matter how much he protested Philip was to remain there.

Philip had chafed against such orders, but had not known of course how important that battle was going to prove. If he had, he vowed, he would have broken free no matter at what cost, and he would have been there.

And so the flower of the French army had been destroyed by a small opposing force and to her everlasting shame France had been brought to her knees. When he heard of the defeat, Philip wept for three days. He refused all food and those about him feared for his health. For years to come he was to refer to Agincourt as the most grievous time of his life.

As for Duke John, he also was overcome with grief. Two of Philip’s uncles, the Duke of Brabant and the Count of Nevers, had perished with much of the nobility of France. But while he mourned, Duke John rejoiced that his son had not been present on that field.

All the same he was ashamed that he himself had not been there and he sent his gauntlet to Henry who was at that time at Calais.

‘The Duke of Brabant is dead,’ he wrote. ‘He is no vassal of France and holds no fief there, but I his brother of Burgundy defy you and send you this gauntlet.’

Henry’s reply was characteristic of him.

‘I will not accept the gauntlet of so noble and puissant a Prince as the Duke of Burgundy. I am of no account compared with him. If I have had the victory over the nobles of France it is by God’s Grace. The death of the Duke of Brabant has caused me great sorrow. Take back your gauntlet. Neither I nor my people caused your brother’s death. If you will be at Boulogne on the fifteenth of January next, I will prove by the testimony of prisoners and two of my friends that it was the French who accomplished his destruction.’

This was an astonishing reply, completely lacking in the arrogance of the conqueror. It was a tentative hand of friendship towards the Duke of Burgundy and it had a marked effect on John the Fearless. He recognised in Henry not only a great soldier but a diplomat as well. He compared him with the mad and feeble King of France and thought what a much more worthwhile ally Henry would make. He ignored Henry’s invitation, however. Instead he marched to Paris and gave every indication of taking arms against the English; but he was really more concerned in the struggle for power between the Burgundians and the Armagnacs – this last named after the Comte Bernard d’Armagnac who had put himself at the head of the Orléans party.

This struggle had been going on in earnest since the Duke of Orléans, lover of the Queen, had been murdered at the orders of the Duke of Burgundy some years before. The King was inclined to favour the Armagnacs which set Burgundy thinking more and more favourably of Henry. Although there was no open alliance he made it clear that he did not consider Henry without claims and the attitude of Burgundy was a source of continual anxiety to the King of France.

Queen Isabeau, who enjoyed intrigue almost as much as she did amorous adventures, at this time decided that she would support Burgundy against her husband and the Orléanists. The only reason she had been with the Orléanists was because her lover had been the Duc d’Orléans. She found it most exciting to send feelers to Burgundy. She was living close to the King – while he enjoyed one of his lucid periods – and was in possession of information which could be useful to Burgundy. As for Burgundy he was only too delighted to have someone as influential as the Queen working for him against his enemies and encouraged the new friendship.

It was hardly to be expected that this should be undiscovered for long, for the Queen was not the only spy in the palace, and the Count of Armagnac soon learned that valuable information was being passed to Burgundy by none other than Isabeau herself. He took the obvious action of discrediting the Queen and this was not difficult, for the Queen’s conduct to say the least was discreditable. Since the murder of Orléans she had had a succession of lovers and the favourite at this time was a certain Louis de Bosredon who was not only her lover but worked with her in getting information to Burgundy.

Armagnac chose the obvious method of revenge. He went to the King and with a show of reluctance implied that not only was Louis de Bosredon the Queen’s lover but that he was acting with her in sending information to Burgundy.

Charles’s temper was unstable. Although at times he was the mildest of men he could suddenly fly into violent rages. He could not help but be aware of his wife’s infidelities. The whole of France had known that the Duc d’Orléans, the King’s own brother, had been her lover. Charles knew it too; but from the moment he had set eyes on Isabeau he had thought her the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, and he still did. His mind was often cloudy even during those times when he was considered well enough to live a normal life; and when he heard that his wife was carrying on an intrigue with Louis de Bosredon in the palace itself he flew into a violent rage.

The Queen was amazed when he approached her. He knew her way of life; everyone knew of it, so why express such surprise? But even she quailed at the storm of invective he let loose upon her.

‘Charles, Charles,’ she murmured, ‘you must calm yourself. If you do not they will take you back to St Pol. Louis is a friend … of yours as well as mine …’

But for once the King was immune to her wiles.

‘You have not heard the last of this,’ he shouted; and he called for the arrest of Louis de Bosredon. That somewhat exquisite gentleman, on his way to the Queen to show her a new pair of embroidered gloves he had had made for himself and to ask her if she would care to patronise the excellent embroiderers he had discovered, was astonished to find himself seized and thrown into a dungeon.

The Queen was temporarily distraught, but she soon assured herself that she would bring the King to reason; and then she would take her revenge on that spy Armagnac. She would rouse the Burgundians to such wrath that there would be massacre in Paris.

It was not quite as easy as usual. The King was adamant in his determination to unmask Louis de Bosredon; he threatened to have him put to the question and the idea of his beautiful body being mutilated sent Louis into panic so that he very quickly admitted everything – his relationship with the Queen and his participation in her spying for Burgundy.

The King ordered that forthwith he be sewn up in a leather sack and thrown into the Seine. A sack on which had been embroidered ‘Let the King’s justice run its course’ was brought and the sentence carried out.

This was not all. Isabeau herself was not to go unpunished. She was banished from the Court and sent to Tours. There she was put into the care of guards who were ordered to watch her night and day and make sure that she neither sent out or received correspondence.

Isabeau thrived on intrigue. She was resourceful and now she decided to ally herself completely with the Duke of Burgundy. She was beautiful, she was beguiling; few men could resist her; certainly not members of the guard. Would one of them do her a service? she wondered. She need not have asked. The chosen man was honoured, he would serve her with his life and it might well be with his life if he were discovered, for what she asked of him was that he should take a message from her to the Duke of Burgundy.

John the Fearless laughed aloud when he received the seal she sent him. He liked the message which told him that if he cared to come to fetch her she would go with him.

To have the Queen in his possession, the Queen his ally! That would be greatly in his favour. He did wonder how he would be able to capture her without storming the château. But she was a resourceful lady. She evidently had ideas.

The messenger went back to tell the Queen that by the time she received his message, the Duke of Burgundy would be two leagues from Tours with a company of men.

Isabeau had her plan ready. She told the guards that she wished to go to Mass at the convent of Marmoutier which was outside the city walls. Her guards conferred together. They were not supposed to leave Tours. Isabeau stamped and raged. Did they forget she was the Queen? She asked only to be able to worship. Was that to be denied her? They would be sorry they treated her so ill. She would not always be in this sorry position and she was not one to forget.

The guards conferred together. What harm could the expedition do if she were well guarded?

So they set out but when they came near the church they saw a company of soldiers approaching. The guards were immediately wary.

‘My lady,’ said their leader, ‘we should return. These soldiers could be Burgundians or English.’

At that moment the Captain who was riding at the head of the soldiers galloped up to her.

He came close to Isabeau’s horse, took her hand and kissed it.