With time, Yolande can see that Alison comes genuinely to care for Charles of Lorraine. Subtly, with her delightful manner, the girl sets about persuading the duke – who adores her – to sign the papers agreeing to the joining of Lorraine and Bar through René’s marriage to his heiress. Another triumph for the Queen of Sicily! René becomes Lorraine’s joint heir and the future husband of his beautiful daughter, Isabella.
Yolande summons her son from Bourges to Angers and gives him the news as she sits embroidering by the fire in Angers’ great hall. To say that René is overwhelmed is an understatement. He sits down beside her, and says nothing for a few moments, as if digesting his unexpected good fortune. Tall and mature, his mother sees a young man before her. Then he stands, paces up and down the room a few times and, turning to her, says:
‘I am glad of it, dearest Maman, of course, and very grateful, but . . .’ he hesitates, ‘it seems as if I am getting my second dukedom more through pillow talk than as my right.’
‘Really?’ is all she says to that, raising her eyebrows but continuing to look at her stitching.
‘I would rather have won it on a battlefield,’ he adds, almost defiantly. How sweet is youth, and she has to smile at his outraged male pride. She stops her stitching and looks at his confused, dear face.
‘My beloved son, you are young and eager to win your spurs in battle, but soon you will appreciate that a dukedom is a dukedom however it comes. As for pillow talk, believe me, it can be as effective, and far less costly, than a cannon.’ She smiles as he bows to her and leaves the room, looking puzzled and lost for an answer.
In time, René will become the ruler of Lorraine, but the immediate importance of the marriage is that it will remove Lorraine from the enemy’s camp and shift the duchy’s support to that of France’s king. Yolande’s methods may be unorthodox, but her goals are the goals of France, and her Spanish conscience never troubles her in this regard.
Chapter Four
Since Yolande is unable to be with the dauphin at all times herself, she has placed the best of her Angevin advisers about him to help Charles find his way in the strange and dangerous world that is the court of France. To judge him fairly, it is important for her to see him in action, and she invites him to Anjou to join her at her chateau at Saumur, where she will hold a formal court during a meeting of the provinces of Poitou. To her delight, he accepts.
Not surprisingly, Charles, the third dauphin of this reign, is barely acknowledged by the people; to please the Duke of Burgundy and further his own claim to the French throne, his mother had hinted that Charles is illegitimate, typical court gossip bandied about by the Burgundians – and everyone knows that his father is rarely sane. Nor has the young man had an opportunity to show what, if anything, he can do for his country. Yolande can sense his frustration at every turn.
This troubled child she took into her family urgently needs recognition to enable him to fulfil his destiny. She knows his faults better than anyone, but she sincerely believes that, given the right handling and guidance, he can become a worthy king. What doubts he must have when his own mother refers to him as the ‘so-called dauphin’! Nor does he yet understand that she is acting out of fear for her own life and future. Unfortunately, a performance like the one at Azay-le-Rideau shows the depth of his insecurity, and his genuine doubts about his legitimacy eat away at his self-confidence.
Having Charles recognized as the legitimate heir to his father’s throne, not just the acknowledged one, has become the Queen of Sicily’s obsession. He must learn to believe in himself and in his right to succeed his father. To this end she never fails to find occasions to do him formal, public homage, with her head lowered as she makes him a deep reverence or curtsey.
It is to this end also that she invites him to Saumur to hold a formal court at her chateau. When news of his visit spreads, many of the Angevins gather at the entrance to the castle to see how this boy they knew has grown into a man, how he has matured, and if he will make a real king. As Charles rides towards the chateau with his entourage, Yolande decides to meet him outside in full view of the members of her court and the people. She is dressed for the occasion in a deep red velvet gown, cut at the neck to allow her famous rubies to show, a delicate golden shawl around her shoulders, the long velvet train of her court dress stretched out behind her. On her headdress she wears her crown as Queen of Sicily, but when Charles dismounts and walks towards her, she curtseys very low and slowly, forcing him to raise her with outstretched hands. She can hear the faint buzz from the assembled crowd when they see this. If she, in her position and with all her titles, can show the dauphin such reverence, others will take note and comply. His face speaks volumes, and she can see from his expression that he is moved, his eyes filled with love and appreciation of what she is doing.
As they enter the chateau together, Charles cannot hide his pleasure at being once again at Saumur. Louis is here, visiting from Marseilles, and Marie and René have come to greet him, as well as the little ones, Yolande and the dauphin’s good son Charles. And greet him they do, like the old friends they are – with warmth, real affection and trust. Their mother knows she has their support as she concentrates all her energy on ensuring that Charles is accepted as France’s true dauphin and future king. This is her duty, and one she performs gladly. It is what her beloved husband would have wished.
June is in full bloom, and Yolande has been granted the audience she requested with the ailing king. Through Odette, she has been kept fully informed about the king’s health, and there is no doubt that his mind is deteriorating, his sanity slipping away more often than not. They meet at the dauphin’s beautiful chateau at Mehun-sur-Yèvre, inherited from Jean of Berry. There is an important matter to discuss with the king concerning Charles, and Yolande knows from Odette that her timing is fortuitous regarding his mind. She gathers Marie, René, young Yolande and Charles, and they leave Angers, rowing upstream on the Loire with its enthralling river traffic, to the delight of the children. Downstream from Tours they join the River Cher. The chateau of Mehun-sur-Yèvre is famous for its soaring towers, and features in the late Duke of Berry’s remarkable illuminated manuscript Les Très Riches Heures.
They arrive to see the king in a large gathering of courtiers and their ladies.
‘Your Majesty, sire,’ says Yolande softly, as she drops Charles VI a deep curtsey. How he has changed: he is thinner, with less hair, tired eyes and a sallow complexion. The beautiful, dashing young soldier-courtier is completely gone. She notices a flicker of joyful recognition in his eyes when he sees her, and as he kisses her hand he notices she is wearing his sapphire ring and smiles warmly.
‘My dear cousin Yolande, it is an unusual pleasure to see someone of whom I am so fond at my court. Welcome!’ and he raises and embraces her. ‘Since you wear my ring, I trust you have come with a request that I will be pleased to grant you?’ he whispers in her ear.
Beside him is a young lady she knows well. ‘Odette, my dear young friend,’ she says with a genuine smile to her helper. Yolande reaches out her hand and raises Odette from her court reverence. She can see from the king’s face that her warm greeting to Odette de Champdivers (to whom the court refers as ‘the little queen’) has pleased him. Children and dogs are led away to explore and Yolande turns to her host with a question in her expression.
The king understands that she wants a private audience and they withdraw from the gathering to an adjacent area, Odette following. Once settled, Yolande says quietly: ‘Sire, as you know well, I have had your youngest son, Charles, now your dauphin, in my care for some years.’ From his eyes and the way he nods, she judges him to be quite sane. ‘It grieves me that the young prince is not kept as fully occupied as his rank entitles him,’ she continues, observing with relief that he is listening intently. ‘He has pleased me and my late husband with his dedication to the Church, his studies, and your governance.’
The king turns sharply, with interest, and asks, ‘How does he
show his dedication to the Church?’ and she tells him of Charles’s frequent devotions, of his assiduous studies, his time in Anjou and how the people in their territories react to him. She has primed Odette beforehand, and the younger woman confirms everything she says.
‘Sire, friend and cousin, I come to ask you to endorse your son Charles as your rightful heir, and create him Lieutenant General of the kingdom.’ On cue, Odette whispers to the king: ‘Dearest sire, we have spoken of this before, as I know it is in your heart to give your son these privileges. You will remember our discussions?’ The king nods. ‘And you agreed it would be an excellent procedure?’ Again the king nods.
After some ten minutes more, it is concluded. Charles will be confirmed by statute in his new position. By this Act, the queen will be removed as regent, and the dauphin’s future appears secure. Yolande sighs inwardly. Another goal achieved.
The king has been most generous to Odette de Champdivers and given her two fine manors and an estate in Poitou. Odette fully understands that his munificence is due to the Queen of Sicily, in return for her service. When they are alone, Yolande takes the opportunity to ask her some things she would not dare commit to a letter. ‘How mad is the king?’ she begins.
‘Oh, at times, very! But he always knows me, and although he can be terrible with some, with me he is always kind and gentle.’
This comes as a relief to Yolande, since she has heard of his cruelty and brutality to others. Nor does she know why he is always willing to see her – or perhaps he recognizes a kindred spirit who intends him only good.
‘Odette, my dear, you know this already but I want to stress it to you again. Should you ever, at any time, feel threatened by the king, you must promise to let me know at once, and I will see you are brought to safety. Now give me your promise?’ This Odette does, and curtseys to the ground. As Yolande leaves, she sees that the younger woman has risen, and she catches the reflection of a tear on her cheek.
In spite of the Queen of Sicily’s important achievement with the king on behalf of the dauphin, the spectre of Naples has returned to haunt her family. She always knew it would happen – her beloved eldest son Louis is leaving once again for Marseilles, this time to sail to Italy to chase his elusive inheritance. Yolande has feared for so long that her darling eldest son will follow in his father’s footsteps; she has been waiting for this day, dreading it, but knows she must be supportive and understanding, although it breaks her heart to see him so. She has always known he will never escape that irresistible, cursed mistress who had his father in her thrall!
As if his ambition was not enough of a burden, she must also be an integral part of his plans. Louis will need his mother to be on hand in Provence to supply his requirements for provisions, men, ships and armaments. For this reason she intends to base herself there for the next four years with the younger children, to manage their considerable landholdings and raise more funds. When Yolande married Louis II d’Anjou, she saw that her role was to support her husband, and now, as she promised him, she must do the same for their eldest son. Yes, she fears for her beloved golden boy, setting out on an unwinnable quest, but she recognizes that look in his eyes, his father’s look before he left for the Italian peninsula. Since she cannot oppose his will, she is duty-bound to support it, no matter her own opinion.
Louis has come to bid farewell to all the family currently based at Saumur. Yolande stands back, looking at them – how they have all grown, especially Louis, as tall as her husband and so like him when they met for the first time. Her son is sixteen now and has filled out, is reputed to be a good swordsman and cavalry officer – quite a young gallant. The children run to greet him and pepper him with questions about his quest – they know he will see the mighty volcano Vesuvius and that is their most thrilling topic. Finally, when she has him alone, Yolande looks at him keenly, deep into his blue eyes with her own of a darker, sapphire blue. ‘Well, my eldest, the first flower of my love for your father, I wish you success, health and happiness. May you fulfil all your ambitions, win and rule your kingdom with kindness and justice – and write to us often. Many ships pass between Marseilles and Naples and we expect to hear everything. You will write, won’t you my darling boy?’, and at this her voice breaks and they embrace. She cannot help her tears – she has experienced this scene before. All she can do is pray he succeeds in all his ambitions. With her right thumb she traces a cross on his forehead and blesses him.
Chapter Five
After years of feuding, the Duke of Burgundy and the dauphin have at last understood the need to resolve their differences and unite for the sake of France for, without the two factions joining forces, a comprehensive English victory is recognized by every citizen across the country as inevitable.
Both the Burgundians and the Armagnacs are so paranoid with hatred of one another that it seems impossible for them to agree on a meeting place. In league with the English, the Duke of Burgundy controls the north and the east of France; the dauphin holds most of the south – with the exception of Yolande’s territory of Guyenne, which is in the hands of the Burgundians. Finally, a meeting place has been chosen, at Montereau in the Île-de-France region of north-central France.
Charles has excellent captains whom Yolande sent him from Anjou, most markedly Tanneguy du Chastel. And there are others who she is sure will prove their worth. Since Yolande is obliged to remain in Provence, she has sent a number of her best agents – young Pierre de Brézé among them – who are not known to one another, to mingle and scout for her. This is something she learnt at home in Aragon – it is wise to keep one’s agents unaware of one another, then they can never conspire against their principals. A small precaution, but one she adheres to. They may see each other in her households yet be unaware of their exact role in her employ.
It is a hot afternoon in September and Yolande sits at her writing table in her chateau of Tarascon in Provence. The books are refusing to balance and are making her head ache, or perhaps that is because thunder is expected. But the thunder that comes is not from the skies. She hears loud shouts, then many voices and feet running down stone passageways. A courier bursts into the room despite the guards trying to hold him back. The poor man is in tears with exhaustion, and she recognizes him as one of Pierre de Brézé’s men.
Waving away her guards, she gives him some water, which he gulps. Mud-spattered and hardly able to stand after riding hard, he hands her a note on which Pierre has written:
‘Madame, I have no time to write. Trust this man. Please hear him. My written account will follow with the next courier.’
What can this mean? She cannot imagine what is to follow, but forces herself to wait until the man can speak. After some minutes, with difficulty, he begins:
‘My lord Pierre de Brézé has asked me . . . madame, to tell you as follows . . . that the first meeting between the Duke of Burgundy and the dauphin . . . aimed at settling their differences . . . was a failure. The duke let it be known that he would not even bother . . . to attend the next summit . . . to discuss a peace treaty . . . but his decision was reversed by the presence of a lady . . . named Jeanne de Giac.’
Yolande’s face does not change, and gives no indication that she knows the woman as the attractive wife of Pierre de Giac, a member of the Duke of Burgundy’s entourage she has seen at court. Still breathing heavily, the man continues:
‘It seems the duke . . . was rather taken with the Dame de Giac . . . who persuaded him to listen to your trusted Angevin envoys Tanneguy du Chastel and Arnaud de Barbazan. This time their meeting with the duke was a success . . . gifts were exchanged and a peace treaty was drafted.’
Yolande’s face still has not changed expression, but how is this possible? How could a woman of such little standing have been able to influence the mighty Duke of Burgundy, especially in a matter as critical as the safety of the kingdom?
Slowly the story emerges, the gaspings of the courier clarified by a letter which swiftly follows in Pierre’s o
wn hand. And the clearer the picture becomes, the more horrific it seems. The representatives of the two sides had already agreed to meet on neutral ground, namely in the middle of the bridge at Montereau. This was decided despite some misgivings from the Duke of Burgundy, but with the help of the Dame de Giac, he was persuaded. An enclosure was erected on the bridge, and two parties of ten men – unarmed but for their swords – accompanied their principals, the dauphin and the Duke of Burgundy, to witness the signing of the agreement. Polite greetings were exchanged and both parties bowed to one another.
But from this point, things began to go horribly awry. ‘Suddenly, an argument began between a group of the murdered Duke Louis d’Orléans’ followers – including the dauphin – and the Burgundians. This quickly became heated, and a scuffle broke out. Your faithful Angevin, Tanneguy du Chastel, pushed the dauphin out of the enclosure, saving him from harm, before the first blows were struck.’
Instinctively, Yolande catches at her throat. ‘Blows?’
It seems that the Armagnacs felt that only a horror similar to the vicious murder of their leader, Louis d’Orléans, could avenge that crime. And it was the dauphin’s guardian knight, Tanneguy du Chastel, who smashed his battle axe on to the Duke of Burgundy’s head, spilling his brains on the bridge. Another sliced off the duke’s right hand, just as the hand of Louis d’Orléans had been cut off – as if this had become a new ritual of political assassination.
Tears blur Yolande’s reading and she wipes them away angrily to read Pierre’s final words:
‘In their madness, the assassins of both sides claimed that their hands had been guided by sorcery and by the invocation of demons. Madame, forgive me – more will follow my further enquiries.’
Queen Of Four Kingdoms, The Page 20
