Queen Of Four Kingdoms, The

by of Kent, HRH Princess Michael

  After the lengthy negotiations by her team on her behalf, the Queen of Sicily is finally able to sign an official treaty with Henry V, placing her provinces of Anjou and Maine outside any military offensive he might set in motion against France. Her neighbour the Duke of Brittany, on her advice and also with their king’s permission, does the same. For the present, Louis’ inheritance is safe, and Brittany, an ally of Burgundy’s, has come a step nearer to becoming attached to his king.

  While Yolande takes charge in Angers, young Louis has installed himself – at least for the time being – in Marseilles, in order to see how his territory of Provence operates. He travels about the countryside, showing himself as the people’s new sovereign, and the reports that are sent back about him bode well. He has his father’s vocal reticence, but with his handsome face and physique, his natural way with people, and the same honest blue eyes, he inspires trust just as his father did. Marseilles is essential to the income of the Anjou family – as is all Provence, which Louis knows only too well and is right that he spends time there. But there is foreboding in Yolande’s heart at his extended stay, for the longer he is game, the more she fears he will be inspired to launch an offensive against his cousin Alfonso to regain his kingdom of Naples. She is too afraid to even mention Naples, that chimera that began his father’s decline into ill health. He never really recovered after his return from losing Naples and she always wondered what was it that drained the strength of such a good, honest man? What inspires such a burning ambition in both the Anjous and the Aragons to possess it? And has Louis caught the fever? In her heart, she suspects he has, and she begins to fear for him.

  Charles and Marie depart for Paris so that he can attend the Royal Council in the absence of the sick king. Yolande has arranged for the young pair to stay in her palace by the Seine, in the sure knowledge that they will be safe there. At her insistence, they are accompanied by a strong guard, mostly of experienced Angevins. The queen has written repeatedly to Yolande asking her to return Charles to her at Vincennes. She knows her last remaining son will only obey Yolande, who has steadfastly refused – she has not nurtured this child to risk his being murdered like his brothers on the orders of the Duke of Burgundy. Yolande has no doubt about the authorship of those crimes, but she is equally sure that Queen Isabeau has no idea of the involvement of Jean-sans-Peur in the horrors perpetrated upon her children. With the madness of her husband and the death of the two men on whom she relied, Isabeau must feel she is drowning in a whirlpool of intrigue and betrayal. In the queen’s search for a strong family member to protect her as her husbands regent, she clutched at any straw offered. Tragically the one she has grasped belongs to the despicable Duke of Burgundy. And yet Yolande knows that Isabeau would never have trusted him if she believed he had poisoned her children.

  The king’s seizures are so frequent now that he is rarely seen and remains in the palace of the Louvre with Odette who keeps Yolande well informed. In his absence, Isabeau’s position as regent is of strategic importance to the status of the Duke of Burgundy who places himself at her side. It is a contemptible betrayal by Isabeau, not only of her husband but also of the memory of her friend Louis d’Orléans. Still, Yolande does not hate or even despise Isabeau for her treachery in shifting her loyalty to her husband’s loathsome cousin. Rather, she pities her and prays their paths will not cross often.

  *

  Back in Angers, Yolande hears from Odette that, in one of his rare bouts of sanity, the king has became aware of his queen’s alliance with the traitorous Burgundy and has banished them both from Paris. But this decision is to have appalling consequences, for the king, and for Yolande. In retaliation, the Duke of Burgundy’s men steal into Paris under cover of darkness. They take control of the city with such speed that the dauphin has to flee the Anjous’ palace on the Seine in the dead of night. Fortunately, he has the best of guardians in Tanneguy du Chastel. As the Burgundians enter Paris, Tanneguy brings the dauphin in haste and in the dark to the Bastille, where two Angevins are waiting with horses and clothes. Charles, the boy Yolande has promised to protect and make into a worthy king, is driven from his capital in terror in his nightshirt! Then begins a dreadful massacre of the Armagnacs, while those who are able flee to Bourges to join the dauphin.

  There is worse news to come. It is only when she hears that Charles and his escort have arrived safely in Bourges that Yolande receives word Marie is not with them: the Burgundians are holding her daughter captive in Paris.

  A shard of ice pierces Yolande’s heart. How has this happened? Her daughter confined in Paris, and she herself powerless in Angers. Praying that Marie will not be mistreated, she sends emissaries both official and secret to find out what she can. Fretting for her daughter’s safety, she writes a personal letter delivered direct to Queen Isabeau, still in Troyes with the Duke of Burgundy, but this gets no reply. Finally, and to her great relief, she receives a note from Isabeau in her own hand, saying she was on her way to Paris, and giving her word that Marie would be sheltered by her personally and kept safe. Isabeau added, somewhat touchingly, that she still wished for the conclusion of the marriage of her remaining son, Charles, to Yolande’s daughter. With her woman’s instinct, Yolande knows that Isabeau will keep her word and, with that, her anxiety eased. After all, had she not helped the queen with the king by finding Odette? Altogether, it is the best result she can hope for at this uncertain time.

  By 14 July, Queen Isabeau has made her official entry into Paris in great style, accompanied by the Duke of Burgundy. Jean-sans-Peur is taking no chances and brings with him an army of three thousand five hundred soldiers, for the protection of her incapable royal husband. No one imagines that the queen has had any influence on the duke’s decisions. Her presence merely gives the lie that they are made with the regent’s blessing and that is sufficient to justify his actions.

  Although she holds Yolande’s daughter, the queen’s repeated requests for Charles to join her in Paris are certainly made on the Duke of Burgundy’s instructions. At the Queen of Sicily’s insistence, Charles continues to refuse. He must not forget her husband’s dying instructions to them both: ‘Do not trust the Duke of Burgundy’ – and neither will. Nor will she forget her own promise to God that she made when she took the young Prince Charles into her family: Je le garde, moi. It is a dangerous game she is playing, urging him to disobey the queen, a queen who holds such a precious card as her own daughter. But Yolande is equally sure of two basic facts: that the queen will not harm Marie; and that the dauphin would not survive long if he joined Isabeau at Vincennes. Then all really would be lost. The Duke of Burgundy would arrange for Charles’s death just as he did the poisoning of his two older brothers; perhaps also the king’s death – and then Jean-sans-Peur would be able to mount the throne. Hard as it is for her, it is wiser to trust Isabeau to protect Marie, and keep her and Charles away from the Duke of Burgundy.

  Marie has been held by the Burgundians in Paris for nine months when suddenly, and without warning, she is brought back home to her family at Saumur by the Duke of Brittany, Yolande’s fellow negotiator with England. This, he explains, is a sign of the goodwill of Duke Jean-sans-Peur.

  ‘Goodwill?’ exclaims an incandescent Yolande. ‘What business did he have keeping her in the first place?’ But what a relief for her to wrap her arms around Marie, while happy tears roll down both their cheeks.

  ‘Child, precious daughter, how are you? Did they treat you well? Did they harm or threaten you? Were you in any danger?’ Her questions come like a fast-flowing river, and Marie laughs.

  ‘Maman, stop! Dearest Maman, I am well and so very happy to be home with you and my brothers and sister and all the people I love. Be calm. I am well.’

  Yolande notes that Marie has managed to attain more poise, more self-assurance, despite her ordeal, and her expression is as sweet-natured as ever. She has arrived looking healthy, wearing her own smart clothes and riding a fine grey hackney, a gift from the Duke of Burgundy
, no less! She has filled out a little, though still slim.

  ‘Maman, I was not ill treated – please take that worried look off your face!’ she laughs. ‘I was kept in my own apartment at our home in Paris. I was free to move about in the gardens; I merely had to agree to remain within our perimeter walls, which was hardly onerous. I had the dogs, my dwarf, my tutors and all our familiar staff. I even received the occasional smuggled letter from Charles.’ Now that interests Yolande since she has not heard a word from him and surmises that he keeps on the move to avoid Burgundy’s men, but how good that he keeps in touch with Marie – and encouraging for their future. If they can share complicity now, it bodes well for their married life. Oh, the joy of having her back and unharmed. Nothing else seems to matter – she may be a warrior queen on the one hand, but she is also a very fond mother. Her son Louis, she hears, is progressing well in Provence, and the rest of her brood are flourishing here at Saumur. To her relief, her most important treasures, the children, are all safe – all except her adopted son Charles who is still in mortal danger from ‘Jean-sans-Peur’ and her anxiety for him has not lessened. If only her darling husband was still with them.

  Chapter Three

  Now that young Louis has immersed himself in the dream of regaining his distant kingdom, the Queen of Sicily decides to try to find an advantageous bride for her second son, nine-year-old René. His only inheritance is the earldom of Guise, a fine birthright, but stuck in the middle of Burgundian territory. And yet her jolly, red, curly-haired adventurer, this, her most endearing child, though not as academic as Louis or Marie, does have other gifts. His passions have always been music, drawing, history, soldiery – and he has the kindest of hearts. His earldom of Guise is as good as nothing to offer a prospective bride; he has never even been able to go there. What René needs is a substantial heiress, but to attract such a paragon Yolande must find a way of making her younger son more eligible.

  Throughout her youth she was close to her maternal uncle, the Cardinal Duke of Bar. A childhood friend and accomplice of her mother, his sister, he was often their guest in Saragossa and Barcelona. A large man, imposing, with a shiny bald head and a deep voice of dark velvet, he would sit Yolande on his knee while he told her stories from the Old Testament so vividly that she begged for more. His visits to their court in Aragon were always a delight. Since Yolande’s marriage, they have corresponded regularly, and she knows he prays for her. Having lost his two elder brothers at Agincourt, he has inherited both the title and the province of Bar, but as a man of the Church, he has no children to inherit from him.

  As his nearest of kin, Yolande should be his heiress, but it is for René that she wants to negotiate. Friends since early childhood, it is not difficult to approach her uncle by letter and inform him of her willingness to forgo her inheritance of his dukedom in favour of her second son. To her immense relief, he replies that he is open and willing to accept the idea of adopting René as his heir. This pledge of a dukedom is a worthy bequest for a prospective bridegroom. At last René can be considered almost as eligible as his older brother.

  Yolande may be a fond mother, but she believes she is not a fool – she knows the character of her children, and René is smarter than he makes himself out to be. He may not have Louis’ obvious talents and beauty, let alone his inheritance, but she feels he has the ability to become someone quite extraordinary one day, and she wants to make that possible. The first step, she believes, is a good marriage.

  Having settled his inheritance, therefore, she takes the next step towards her goal. It has been known of old that the Dukes of Bar have always longed to unite their territory with the neighbouring duchy of Lorraine. Such is the delicacy of her plan that she makes a special visit to her uncle in person. This is a serious game, and she intends to win!

  As they walk arm in arm in his cloister garden, heady with the scent of jasmine, Yolande gently prepares him. ‘Is it not so, dear uncle, that the Duke of Lorraine has no son?’ She pauses, and as if musing, continues: ‘And am I right in thinking that he has made his beautiful eldest daughter his heir?’ she asks.

  Nonchalantly he picks some of the small white flowers, places them carefully in her hair and gives her a shrewd look. Guilelessly she continues, sounding light and conversational:

  ‘Would you not agree that a marriage between your heir, my son René, and Isabelle of Lorraine would be most fortuitous in uniting the two duchies at last?’

  Her uncle’s eyes shine and he smiles slowly and gleefully.

  ‘My dear Yolande, you were always a clever child, and you have grown into a beautiful, clever woman. Yes, yes,’ he ponders slowly, ‘it would be an excellent idea.’ Although her uncle is a heavy man, his eyes are beacons of intelligence and humour. Moreover, his vocation is genuine, not just the usual destination of the third son, and Yolande loves him even more for that.

  Encouraged by his enthusiasm, she proposes that, initially, René should go to spend some time with him, become acquainted, and learn about his prospective inheritance of Bar, and her uncle-cardinal agrees with pleasure.

  The Queen of Sicily finds René in Bourges with Jean Dunois, both looking for a possible military career in the dauphin’s small army. When he hears of his mother’s arrival, he comes at once to see her, and she gives him her news.

  ‘Maman, of course I am delighted to be the heir to your uncle’s dukedom of Bar, but then I know that no one can resist your charm or your acute reasoning,’ he says in a most grown-up manner as he embraces her. He pauses for a moment. ‘As for a marriage with the heiress of Lorraine . . . we both know that the duke her father is a confirmed follower and childhood friend of the Duke of Burgundy. Do you think he will take kindly to an Anjou, from a family of Armagnac supporters, becoming heir to the neighbouring duchy, let alone marrying his heiress?’

  He has a point. The sovereign duchy of Lorraine is known to have been sustaining the English for some time, and to their considerable advantage. Yolande’s hope is to untie Lorraine from the web of English alliances and attach this valuable duchy by blood – her blood – to that of Bar, and their united territory to the crown of France.

  The question she must now consider is how to persuade the Duke of Lorraine to choose René, a second son from an enemy house, as the ideal husband for his daughter, the heiress to his duchy? France is full of eligible young noblemen far better suited to win the hand of the beautiful Isabelle of Lorraine.

  Desperate situations require desperate solutions. There are few secrets in a court, and Yolande managed to place her versatile lady’s maid Eduarda – whom she had taken back from Isabeau – into the duke’s household. Eduarda informed her mistress that the duchess never appeared other than in her chapel, and led a sedentary life quite separate to the lonely duke. The only pleasure he had was in the company of his old friends, and in the visits of his two daughters. ‘Then he lights up,’ wrote Eduarda, ‘at the sight of them and their friends, begging them to remain at his château at Nancy far longer than they intended.’

  Yolande is not overly proud of what she does to secure the Duke of Lorraine for France, but nor is she ashamed. She decides to find him a suitable lady companion to ease his loneliness, and to persuade him to be loyal to his rightful king – and not to the English. She believes it would probably be best for her choice of helper to come from Anjou. That way she can have more control through her family, and contact sensible people there to find her a suitable young candidate for her purpose. When Yolande returns to Angers, a meeting is arranged with a young woman named Alison du May.

  As she enters the room the girl curtseys low, giving Yolande ample opportunity to study her. Alison du May is a natural beauty, and her curtsey is made with a sure and confident movement, as if she has been at court all her life. She raises her head and her green eyes meet Yolande’s without fear, almost boldly.

  ‘Alison, do you have any idea why I have sent for you?’ Yolande asks.

  At this, the girl stammers a little. ‘Mad
ame, I have none.’

  ‘My dear girl, as your Duchess of Anjou, I have made enquiries to find the perfect young woman to help our country. You would like to do that, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Yes . . . yes,’ she replies hesitantly.

  ‘I must therefore ask you: are you a loyal subject of the Duke of Anjou and of your king, Charles VI?’ Again the girl curtseys low, and to judge from the clear, open expression of assent she gives, Yolande believes that Alison du May might just be a good choice.

  The duchess and Alison meet several more times, both at Angers and Saumur, and through gentle conversation – a question here, an example there of the ways in which France needs her sovereign dukes loyal to their king – it becomes clear that Alison appreciates that France needs Lorraine and Bar on side, and that she holds the key to achieving that. The girl certainly understands the perilous situation of the country and, on a personal level, the loneliness of the old duke, and that he needs comforting by day and perhaps by night as well. Is she agreeable to that idea in order to help save France?

  ‘Madame, following our several meetings, I believe I do understand what you are asking of me, and I too have made some enquiries. I hear nothing but good about the duke and feel confident that I can make him happy. If I can succeed in that, then I know I can persuade him to return his loyalty to his king and country.’

  Alison du May is not only beautiful and bold, she is intelligent; it does not take her long to captivate the Duke of Lorraine – and govern him. Yolande corresponds regularly with her and knows from other informants that Alison does indeed make the elderly duke happy. Should she give him children, Yolande promises her that she will see to it that they are well provided for, but she also makes it clear that she is relying on the girl to see that Lorraine not only returns, but remains with France.