HENRY’S MARRIAGE
The first part of the following year (1419) was spent in negotiation.
Early in March the Duke of Britanny paid another visit to the King for
the purpose of confirming the friendly relations between them. At the
same time overtures were made to him by both the parties who claimed to
direct the government of France--by the Dauphin[11] on the one hand,
and the Duke of Burgundy, acting in the name of King Charles the Sixth,
on the other.
The negotiations with the Dauphin came to nothing, nor was it indeed
possible that they should have any result. Henry persisted in his
claim to be king of France; and if he consented to discuss any other
conditions of peace, always reserved this right. The Dauphin, as the
eldest son of the reigning king, could not seriously treat with such a
claimant. Overtures made on either side could only have been feints.
The Duke of Burgundy, on the contrary, had no pretensions that were
absolutely irreconcilable with Henry’s claim. He had in his power the
imbecile King, the Queen, and all the royal family, the Dauphin only
excepted. In right of the authority which the King was said to have
delegated to him, he claimed to be Regent of France. He would doubtless
have wished to be Regent under the imbecile Charles rather than under
the vigorous Henry. So far he was adverse to the success of the
English king; but it was quite possible for him to secure out of that
success terms advantageous to himself. The accession of the Dauphin,
in the probable event of the death of Charles, would make his position
untenable. On the whole we may conclude that he was not indisposed to
come to an agreement with Henry, but did not see his way to obtaining
such an agreement as he wanted.
On May 30th, after various negotiations, which it is needless to relate
in detail, a formal meeting took place at Melun. All the arrangements
were of the greatest magnificence, and the most rigorous etiquette,
dictated doubtless by mutual suspicion, was observed.
On the side of the French came the Duke of Burgundy, Isabeau, Queen of
France, and the fair Katherine herself. It was on her charms indeed
that the French negotiators relied greatly for their success. All
accounts agree in giving the greatest praise to her beauty, though it
is a praise scarcely justified by her portrait. The nose especially
is of an excessive length, and falls a little over the mouth, a
characteristic of the Valois face; but, says Monstrelet, “King Henry
was very anxious to marry her, and not without cause, for she was very
handsome, of high birth, and of the most engaging manners.” Henry’s
attachment indeed had something almost romantic about it. There had
been many plans of finding an alliance for him, but ever since he had
been able to act for himself he had never swerved from his purpose of
winning Katherine the Fair of France for his wife. He was now a man of
thirty-two, and, if we put aside the dubious reports about the excesses
of his youth, we may say that, as far as we know, he had never thought
of any woman but her. Marriage to a daughter of France might help him,
he thought, to gain the crown; nor was he willing to abate his claim,
even in the minor matter of dower, in consideration of Katherine’s
beauty. Still we cannot doubt that he was a sincere and even ardent
lover.
At three in the afternoon Queen Isabeau came out of her tent, the
Lords of her Council walking two and two before her, and the Duke of
Burgundy leading her by the hand. The Princess Katherine followed, led
by the Count of St. Pol. Henry, who was accompanied by his two brothers
Clarence and Gloucester, and by his uncles the Duke of Exeter and the
Cardinal Beaufort, advanced to meet them. He bowed, took the Queen by
the hand, and kissed her. Then he saluted the Princess in the same way.
His brothers did the same, but instead of bowing, bent the knee almost
to the ground. It was observed that the Duke of Burgundy, in saluting
the King, made the same gesture of respect. The whole party then
entered the pavilion that had been prepared for their conference. For
all his courtesy Henry did not forget his pretensions. He claimed to
have the upper hand of the French queen, and, after a long dispute, had
his way. A conference followed, but it was not intended that business
should be transacted on that day. This was postponed till the next
meeting, which, it was arranged, was to take place on June 1st.
The month was spent in further discussion. We may gather from what
has been recorded that Henry was content to fall back, at least for
the time, on the terms of the Treaty of Bretigny, and that the French
commissioners, on the other hand, sought to minimise their concessions.
They could not execute the Treaty of Bretigny, because many of the
places named in it were in the hands of the Dauphin. Henry, who had not
been allowed another sight of the Princess, was profoundly irritated
at the manifest intention on the part of the French negotiators to
baffle him, and especially at the way in which they sought to utilise
his position as a suitor. His anger broke out in a fierce reply to the
Duke of Burgundy, when this prince reproached him with the want of
moderation in his demands. “I will have you know,” he cried, “that I
will not only have your Princess, but your King himself in my power;
and that I will obtain the marriage that I seek, or force him from his
throne, and drive you out of the kingdom.” The Duke replied, “You may
say what you please; but I doubt not that before you force him from
his throne, or drive me out of France, we shall make you weary of your
undertaking.”
Another meeting had been fixed for July 3rd; but Henry, coming to
attend it, found that the French commissioners had left the place. It
seemed that peace was as far off as ever.
The fact was that the Duke of Burgundy was playing a double part.
While the conferences at Melun were going on, he had been in frequent
communication with the Dauphin. Twelve days after his last conference
with Henry, the Dauphin and the Duke met at Pouilly-le-Fort, a place
only a league distant from Melun itself. The interview of the two
was, to all appearance, cordial and even affectionate. The Duke bowed
several times very low, and finally kneeled to the Dauphin, who raised
him in the most gracious way from the ground. At parting the Duke
insisted on holding the stirrup while the Dauphin mounted. The two
princes were to share the administration of the kingdom between them;
they were to give each other all the help in their power; they were not
to enter into any agreement without mutual consent. The treaty, which
was finally concluded on July 29th, was published throughout France.
To Henry, of course, this was a declaration of war. He immediately
took the field. The first point of attack was Pontoise in the Isle of
France. The town was taken by a surprise, skilfully planned by Henry
himself. The English troops arrived in the early morning, scaled the
walls before the guard was even aware of their presence, and, after a
sharp struggle with the garrison, made themselves masters of the town.
Pontoise was a great prize. It contained a great store of war-material
and a large sum of money; and it was the only fortified place between
the country occupied by Henry and Paris itself. The King declared in a
letter to his Council at home that it was the most important place that
he had taken since the beginning of the war. The fact was emphasised
in the course of a few days by the appearance of the Duke of Clarence
before the walls of Paris.
But Henry’s victories, brilliant as they were, could hardly have
brought him final success but for the criminal folly of his
adversaries. On September 10th the Duke of Burgundy was murdered at
the Bridge of Montereau. What share the Dauphin had in this atrocious
deed--whether he commanded it and even gave the signal for the
assassins to strike, or whether he simply stood by and suffered it to
be perpetrated without interfering--scarcely concerns us. Perhaps we
may take the more favourable account of Monstrelet, who indeed had the
best opportunities for learning the truth. “While these things were
passing,” he says, “the Dauphin leaned on the barrier, looking on,
but soon drew back, as one much frightened.” And indeed the Duke had
private and public enemies who would not scruple to take his life. One
cannot wonder at the violent death of the man who had perpetrated such
a deed as the assassination of the Duke of Orleans.
But whether the Dauphin was an accomplice before or after the act, the
result was the same. The murder of the Duke gave Henry the crown of
France. Paris, where the dead prince had been popular, was furious at
his death. The provosts of the city, assembled by the Count of St. Pol,
swore a solemn oath that they would employ their lives and fortunes in
avenging this execrable deed. The King and Queen renounced their son,
and declared their intention of making peace with the king of England,
as the only hope for the country. And, most important of all, Philip
Count of Charolois, eldest son and heir of the murdered Duke, threw
himself heart and soul into the English alliance.
The Dauphin withdrew to Poictiers. France south of the Loire was in his
hands, but north of that river it substantially belonged to the English
king and to his Burgundian ally. During the autumn of 1419 and the
following spring there were no military operations of much importance.
A desultory warfare was waged with the Dauphin, while, on the other
hand, there was a succession of truces between Henry and the party of
the French king. Negotiations, meanwhile, went busily on, and this
time with a real intention on all sides that they should lead to some
result; and this result may be seen in what was called “The Perpetual
Peace of Troyes,” finally concluded on May 21st. King Charles was to
have undisturbed possession of the crown during his life; after his
death the crown should go to Henry and his heirs; during Charles’s
incapacity to reign, Henry should be Regent of France, and should be
styled by the King “our most dear son Henry, King of England and heir
of France”; the Princess Katherine was to become Queen of England, with
the customary annuity of forty thousand crowns.
On the same day that the treaty was finally ratified, the betrothal
took place in the Church of St. Peter at Troyes. The Queen of France
and the Princess were attended by the Duke of Burgundy and forty of
his council. Before the betrothal Isabeau and Henry went together to
the high altar, where the articles of peace were read aloud, and both
affixed their seals to them. Then Henry and Katherine joined hands and
were contracted, while the Duke of Burgundy took an oath to obey Henry
as Regent of France so long as King Charles should live, and after the
latter’s death, to acknowledge him as his liege-lord. Nine days later,
the marriage was celebrated with great magnificence. Henry had attained
the object of his ambition--he was Regent and heir of France, and he
was the husband of the Fair Katherine.