1385-1389
The Royal Family and Court of France--Birth and death of Charles
and Jeanne de France--Dress and amusements--The Abbey of St.
Denis--Knighthood of the King of Sicily--The ball--The Duchesse
de Berry--Valentine Visconti.
When Isabeau arrived at the French court the chief members of the royal
family were the King, his brother Louis, Comte de Valois, and Duc de
Touraine, who, though only fourteen, was already a soldier, having
fought at the King’s side in the battle of Rosebecques, in Flanders,
when he was scarcely twelve years old, wearing a small suit of armour
he had insisted on having made on purpose; and the little Princess
Catherine,[99] who lived with her grandmother at St. Marcel but came
often to Vincennes and the other palaces of her brother. Next in rank
were the two uncles of the King, the Dukes of Berry and Burgundy, who,
with the Duc de Bourbon, were now regents and guardians of the King and
kingdom, for the Duc d’Anjou had been adopted as her heir by Giovanna,
Queen of Naples and Sicily, and had left France for his new inheritance
two or three years before. Chief among the princesses were the famous
Queen Blanche of Navarre, widow of Philippe de Valois, the King’s
great-grandfather; Blanche, Duchesse d’Orléans, widow of Philippe, the
King’s great uncle, and daughter of Charles IV., the last king of the
elder Capétienne House; and Marguérite, Duchesse de Bourgogne, the
heiress of Flanders, wife of the last Capétien and the first Valois
Dukes of Burgundy.[100] In the case of the two last-named princesses,
Charles left his young wife at Creil when, a few days after their
wedding, he started for Flanders to make war upon the contumacious city
of Gand, or Ghent. He returned in September and conducted the Queen to
Paris; but they did not then make a state entry into the capital, as
was usual on such occasions.
{1385}
Although the majority of the King had been fixed at fourteen years
by his father, who considered a boy at that age a less objectionable
ruler for France than the Dukes of Berry and Burgundy; they had
managed to keep the government in their hands until now. But Charles
was exceedingly tired of their interference and strongly urged on by
Louis and Isabeau, resolved to get rid of them. He observed one day to
his brother: “_Beau frère, il est temps que je gouverne comme a fait
mon père, et je ne veux souffrir mie l’autorité et volonté des beaux
oncles de Berry et Bourgogne le peuple aussi trop fort s’en plaint
et souffre de leurs faits._”[101] And shortly afterwards he informed
his two uncles, much to their consternation, that he intended for the
future to govern his own kingdom. But he took care to keep with him
his uncle Louis, Duc de Bourbon, whom he loved. The frank, loyal,
affectionate, and sympathetic nature of the Duke, his chivalrous
tastes, and the really paternal care with which he had watched over
his nephews, had won their warmest affection[102]; and now that his
influence was no longer weakened by their other uncles, immediate
reforms were the result of his wise counsels. Taxes were reduced,
certain corrupt officials dismissed, a truce of three years was made
with the English, the trusty Juvenal des Ursins was made provost of
Paris, and all these measures were received with unqualified approval
throughout the kingdom.
{1386}
The extravagance of the court, and especially of the royal family,
prevented any improvements of this kind from lasting long. No queen
before her had ever been consumed by such a passion for dress,
luxury, and pleasure, as Isabeau de Bavière; never had such boundless
extravagance been seen, even at the brilliant court of the Valois.[103]
Towards the end of September of the year after the marriage of Charles
and Isabeau, a son was born to them at the château de Beauté, the
favourite resort of Charles V., on the edge of the forest of Vincennes.
The birth of the Dauphin was, as usual, received with acclamations,
and proclaimed by couriers all over the kingdom. It was also usual on
such occasions that the King and Queen should endow churches, remit
taxes and debts, and distribute alms to the poor. But they did none
of these things, and when, shortly after, the little Dauphin Charles
died, every one said that was the reason, especially as during all that
autumn there were frightful storms, and it was said[104] that many
crows had been seen flying about, dropping hot ashes from their beaks
on the thatched roofs of barns, of which many were set on fire.[105]
{1387}
It was the eve of the Holy Innocents when the Dauphin died, and he was
carried that night by torchlight, with a grand procession of nobles, to
St. Denis, and buried there in the chapel of his grandfather, Charles
V. A daughter was Isabeau’s next child, born at the Louvre in 1387. She
was called Isabelle, and married Richard II., King of England. In 1388
was born a second daughter, Jeanne, at the Maison Royale de St. Ouen,
_à l’heure de prime_. She died in infancy.
In his interesting study of Isabeau de Bavière, M. Vallet de Viriville
says that in the portrait painted of her in 1383 we see a young girl
“_qui rayonnait d’innocence: telle elle était sortie des mains de
l’universel auteur_,”[106] and goes on to ask by what means she could
have fallen from such a height to such a depth of infamy. But it seems
improbable that this description could ever have applied to Isabeau de
Bavière. Except that she was remarkably beautiful, we hear very little
about her childhood. The chroniclers of her father’s court indeed said
that she possessed admirable beauty, elegant manners, and exquisite
virtue. But at the time this was written, Isabeau was probably twelve
or thirteen years old; and could hardly have done any great good or
harm. During her whole career, beginning at the day when, at fourteen
years old, she became Queen of France, there does not seem to have
been any great difference in her way of going on; by which we may
gather that she was one of the sort of women one meets every now and
then who are always surrounded with a turmoil of quarrels, discredit,
and difficulties caused by themselves, into which everybody who goes
near them is sure to be drawn. We meet them in novels, we meet them
in history, we meet them in real life; and when we do, we know that
there will be no more peace till they are gone. But, fortunately, we
do not meet them as powerful and irresponsible rulers, like Isabeau
de Bavière. And we can perhaps imagine what a calamity such a head of
society was for France.
Inordinately vain, selfish, capricious, too shallow either really to
love or hate, extravagant and yet avaricious, with no sense and no
scruples, this young girl, scarcely out of childhood, not knowing
a word of French, and having been brought up in the distant castle
of a Bavarian noble, was suddenly placed at the head of the court
of France, the gayest and most splendid in Europe, with every one
at her feet, her will supreme except for the nominal control of a
dissipated, extravagant boy only two years older than herself, and
very much in love with her. Isabeau began by introducing many foolish
and exaggerated fashions in dress which, with all their richness, had
neither the grace nor the distinction of the costume of the last two
or three reigns. For instance, she increased the height of the tall
headdresses called _hennins_ so enormously that those who wore them
could not get through the doors without stooping; some of them also had
horns. Very long pointed open sleeves were worn, large wide sashes of
silk or cloth of silver, and a _surcot_, which was a sort of garment
something like a chasuble. Sometimes the _surcots_ had slits and
openings to show the dress underneath, of which the preachers loudly
complained. These _surcots_ had been worn in the former reigns. Dogskin
and chamois-skin boots and gloves lined with fur were also worn. One of
the court costumes was a _surcot_ open at the sides and a corsage of
cloth of gold.[107] Evening dresses were worn for the first time open
at the neck and bosom, and arms were no longer blazoned upon the robes.
As to men’s dress, the Valois had made a great change about the middle
of the fourteenth century. Long tunics were quite done away with, and
they now wore short doublets and _justaucorps_ reaching to the knee,
hoods with long points hanging down to the loins, round or pointed
hats with plumes and brims looped up behind, cloaks with scolloped
edges, open in front or behind, _chausses_, a kind of stockings of a
different colour for each leg and sometimes with soles to them instead
of shoes. Shoes were still worn with points to the toes.[108]
The doublets and _justaucorps_ were of silk or velvet, and sometimes
padded with wadding so as not to wrinkle; and worn with jewelled
girdle, dagger, and purse. They cut their hair short, and wore
pointed beards. Charles VI. wore short jackets with large sleeves
and short tunic. One of the most costly, fashionable, and, it would
seem, comfortable garments was the _houppelande_, worn both by men
and women. This was an enormously long trailing robe or mantle with
loose sleeves, made of cloth, silk, or velvet, and trimmed with fur
and rich embroideries; high collar and gold chains.[109] It had not
hitherto been customary for the King himself to take part in the games
and sports which were the delight of the court, but Charles who had of
course as Dauphin been too young to ride in joustes and tournaments,
had no idea of being for ever deprived of his favourite amusement, but
distinguished himself in the lists like the other young chevaliers of
his court.
The King’s uncles (brothers of Charles V.) were, as has been before
observed, most deplorable guides and guardians to their nephews and
France. The Duc de Bourgogne was by far the best, as he had many noble
qualities, and his overwhelming pride and ambition were at any rate not
unsuitable to a great soldier and the most powerful prince in France.
The favourite son and brother of the two last kings, he had stood
by his father’s side at Poitiers at thirteen years old, fighting to
the last, had been carried prisoner with him to England, and had been
rewarded by the promise of the duchy of Burgundy, which was accordingly
conferred on him by his brother, Charles V. At the coronation of his
nephew, he had insisted on taking precedence of his elder brother, the
Duc d’Anjou, much to the indignation of that prince; as he contended
that the duchy of Burgundy made him the premier peer of France. He had
married the heiress of Flanders, widow at eleven years old of Philippe
de Rouvre, Duc de Bourgogne, and with that haughty and determined
princess he lived on terms of such unbroken affection and confidence
as to be the wonder of the court. He was much influenced by her, and,
unlike most of the princes, no illegitimate child was ever recognised
as his.[110]
The Duc de Berry, without the great qualities of his brother, was
greedy after money, and a cruel oppressor of the people, but he spent
what he wrung from them with royal magnificence in art, literature,
splendid palaces, and a great household.
The Duc d’Anjou was the handsomest of the brothers, and the most
unpopular, for he was just as cruel and extortionate as the Duc de
Berry, and did not spend his money in Paris, but hoarded it up with
a view to providing the means of securing that Italian kingdom of
which he had always been dreaming, and to which every one in France
rejoiced when he had gone. But he died in 1385, and his widow, Marie de
Bretagne, Queen-dowager of Sicily, was now at Paris with her two young
sons, Louis II. and Charles, whose guardian she was.
{1389}
In the early part of 1389, the Pope sent word to her that an attempt
was being made by another claimant to get possession of the kingdom of
Sicily. She went at once to her nephew, asking for help, which Charles
was always ready to give on an occasion of this kind, and before the
young King of Sicily and his brother started for that country he
resolved to give a magnificent fête in honour of their knighthood.
Great were the preparations for this ceremonial. Proclamations were
made and invitations issued all over France, England, and Germany.
It was arranged that the fêtes should be at St. Denis, the place
around which have gathered for centuries the grandest, holiest, and
most solemn associations of the history of France. Founded in 630 by
Dagobert, the splendid church was restored and decorated by its great
Abbot,[111] Suger, in 1140. There, according to pious tradition, were
transported and buried the remains of St. Denis the martyr, there
hung the oriflamme, the flame-coloured banner which had so often led
the chivalry of France to victory, there were the tombs of the kings,
queens, and royal family from Dagobert downwards, there, at the feet of
Charles V., was soon to be laid the hero Du Guesclin. The splendour of
the treasure of St. Denis, which had delighted the eyes of the Emperor
Charles IV., was unsurpassed. Gold and silver statues, crucifixes,
and altar plate set with precious stones, books covered with gold and
silver, written in letters of gold and ornamented with gems, gorgeous
vestments, royal crowns of gold and jewels, the golden sceptre and
sword of Charlemagne, the hand of justice, golden spurs, and coronation
robes, all were in the keeping of the Abbot of St. Denis, who was
independent of any other jurisdiction, and one of the greatest nobles
in France. Pope Stephen III. granted to the monks of this great house
the privilege of electing one from their number to be consecrated
Bishop and receive the power of exercising all episcopal functions
in the abbey. The Abbots of St. Denis were also permitted to wear
the ring, mitre, and crozier, and the pontifical vestments when they
celebrated mass, which on certain high festivals was sung in Greek.
From the kings they had the right to pardon criminals, coin money, and
hold fairs and markets, and to sit as councillors in the parliament
of Paris. Their right, recognised by Louis le Gros, to the country of
the Vexin, gave them the oriflamme,[112] which belonged to it, and
the war-cry of their feudal castle, “_Montjoie Saint Denis_,” was the
war-cry of France.
Those delightful and invaluable historical works, the “Grandes
Chroniques de France,” were written by the monks of St. Denis; of
whom one used to be chosen by the abbot to go about with the court
on purpose to write them. After the invention of printing they were
arranged and printed by the Benedictine Jean Chartier, 1496.[113]
The ceremony of conferring knighthood was one of the most interesting
and characteristic of the many spectacles of the Middle Ages. In
a former volume relating to the French court were described the
magnificent fêtes given by Philippe le Bel on the occasion of the
knighthood of his three sons and the young Princes of Burgundy, the
fame of which had spread all over Christendom. Charles and Isabeau
determined that there should be no falling off either in the splendour
or the diversions of those they were about to give. During the
seventy-six years that had elapsed between those festivities and the
ones now in question, wealth and luxury had greatly increased, there
was more general cultivation and no gloomy figure severely moral and
remorselessly cruel cast a shadow, like Philippe le Bel, upon the
universal rejoicing.
The Queen, the ladies of the court, and princes of the blood, were to
lodge in the abbey itself, which was well suited to receive them. The
refectory was of enormous size, with two naves divided by a colonnade,
the windows were filled with the most gorgeous stained glass and
the tables were of stone. In the cloister was an ancient fountain
thirty-six feet in circumference, with sculptured figures from heathen
mythology, and over it a vault raised on sixteen columns, mostly of
marble, which had been put there by Hugues VI. the forty-second abbot,
1197.[114]
A huge wooden hall was built for the occasion in the courtyard of the
abbey. It was covered with white outside, lined with white and green
and decorated with tapestries and cloth of gold. In it was a large
dais, and outside a place for tournaments with wooden galleries for
the ladies to look on at the spectacle. On Saturday, May 1st, about
sunset, the King arrived, and soon after the Queen of Sicily in an open
car accompanied by the princes of the blood, her two sons, the King of
Sicily, then about twelve years old, and his brother rode by her side
in long grey robes without any gold or ornament, carrying pieces of
the same stuff rolled up on their saddles as if for a journey, after
an ancient custom of esquires. They escorted their mother to the abbey
and then proceeded to the priory de l’Estrée, where they undressed and
bathed. At nightfall they went to salute the King, who took them to
the church, where they put on the dress of knighthood. It was of red
silk lined with vair, long robes and mantles down to the ground, but no
covering on the head. Then a great procession was formed, a _cortège_
of nobles going before and behind the young King of Sicily, who walked
between the Dukes of Burgundy and Touraine, and his brother, who was
accompanied by the Duc de Bourbon and Pierre de Navarre, Comte de
Mortaigne.
After prayers before the holy relics the procession returned with the
same state to the great banquet, after which the King went to bed and
the King of Sicily and his brother returned to the church to pass the
night in prayer and watching before the altar according to the ancient
usage. But young as the children were, and tired with the journey and
the fatigues of all these ceremonies, it was evident that they would
not be able to sit up all night in church saying prayers, so after a
little while they were fetched away to rest until daybreak, when they
had to go back; and later in the morning came the imposing function
in the church. It was crowded with the courtiers and nobles, all the
monks were also present, and when the rest were assembled a door was
opened out of the cloisters and two of the chief esquires of the King’s
household appeared carrying drawn swords and golden spurs, and followed
by the King himself in his royal robes and mantle, accompanied by the
two young princes.
Immediately after came the Queens of France and Sicily with their
ladies. A solemn mass was then sung, at the conclusion of which the
bishop approached the King, and the two boys knelt before him and
demanded admission to knighthood. The King received their vows, girded
on their swords, and commanded M. de Chauvigny to put on their spurs,
the Bishop gave them his blessing, and the picturesque and touching
ceremony was at an end.
Every one returned to the abbey, where there was a grand banquet, in
fact two, for the monk of St. Denis who gives the account of it says
that they dined and supped in the banqueting hall with the King and
court and then danced all night.
It may interest some people to know that a granddaughter of the elder
of these boys was the famous and unfortunate Marguérite d’Anjou, wife
of Henry VI., King of England.
For four days and nights joustes and tournaments went on, at which the
Queen gave away the prizes; followed by banquets and balls. The court
was in a frenzy of excitement and the fêtes ended with a masked ball
more splendid than any, but so licentious and disorderly that of the
brilliant crowds that thronged the torch-lighted halls and wandered in
the dim, tapestried galleries and rooms of the great abbey, it has been
asserted that few escaped the perils of that night of wild, lawless
revelry; and the monk of Saint Denis declares that the scenes enacted
there desecrated the holiness of the place.[115] A liaison between
Isabeau and her brother-in-law the Duc de Touraine was said to be one
of the results, and it has certainly been the general opinion that
whether or not it originated on that occasion, there could be only one
explanation to the relations which from that time until the death of
the Duke continued to exist between them.
It is true that M. Jarry[116] in his interesting work on Louis
d’Orléans observes that this has never been proved, and that M. Vallet
de Viriville makes the same remark; but he adds “_Tout le dit, rien
ne le prouve. Louis, duc d’Orléans, etait le vice aimable. Pour cette
fille d’Ève, si prête à faillir et trop aisée à charmer, il eut la
séduction du Tentateur_.”[117] Louis was one of the handsomest, most
fascinating, and most dissipated men in France, and his liaisons were
innumerable. It was said that he wore a magic ring, and that as long
as it was on his finger no woman could resist him. It was, in fact, a
reproach made by his enemies that he wore it in the Holy Week. Between
such a man as this and a woman like Isabeau, can any one believe that
the most constant, intimate, and unrestrained companionship was likely
to be of a different nature from what was universally believed?
It may here be remarked that the order of knighthood did not in itself
confer the right to raise a banner. This privilege belonged only to
such gentlemen as bore the rank of “_chevalier banneret_” and owned
enough land to enable them to support it. The others were called
“_chevalier bachelier_” and bore a pennon or small pointed flag,
whereas the banner was square. If a _chevalier bachelier_ were raised
to be a _chevalier banneret_, he had first to prove that his property
was sufficient to qualify him for that dignity. When Sir John Chandos,
after having long held high military command, though not a knight
banneret, asked the Black Prince for the right to raise a banner, he
said, “Thank God I have enough and to spare in lands and in inheritance
to keep up that rank as it is fitting.”
The next thing of importance that happened at court was a most absurd
marriage made by the Duc de Berry, which, however, seems to have turned
out very well.
There was a certain Eléonore, daughter and heiress of the Comte de
Comminges, who had married the son of that Comte de Boulogne et
d’Auvergne, to whom those two provinces had fallen after the death of
the young Philippe de Rouvre and the end of the Capétienne house of
Burgundy, which, as will be remembered, took place in the reign of Jean.
The marriage of Eléonore de Comminges turned out unhappily, so she
resolved to leave her husband, whose prodigality and neglect she could
not bear any longer, and take refuge with her uncle, the Comte d’Urgel,
who was a son of the King of Aragon. Taking her only child, a girl of
three years old, she contrived to escape out of the dominions of her
father-in-law and journeyed south towards those of her uncle. On the
way she passed near Orthez, a castle of the famous Gaston, Comte de
Foix, who was a cousin of hers and of whom she asked hospitality.
Now Gaston Phœbus was that Comte de Foix whose deeds have been
described in the life of Blanche de Navarre. He was separated from
his wife, the Princess Agnes of Navarre, who had gone back to her own
family. He was supposed to have stabbed his only legitimate son in
a fit of rage, and he now lived with several illegitimate sons and
a mistress who was one of the chief causes of the departure of the
Princess Agnes.
But he was a man of many and varied talents; passionately fond of
music, a great soldier, an excellent governor of the province entrusted
to him by Charles V., and a powerful ally and friend to any one he
liked. He received his cousin with great kindness and affection and
into his ears she poured the history of her wrongs; her anger against
her husband and her resolve to obtain the restitution of Comminges, her
inheritance, which had been wrongfully seized by the Comte d’Armagnac.
As to her husband, she said, “he cares nothing about it, he is _trop
mal chevalier_, all he cares for is to eat, drink, and waste his
property; if he got Comminges he would only sell it for his follies,
and besides, I cannot live with him. With great trouble I have taken
and extracted my daughter out of the hands and country of my husband’s
father, and I have brought her to you to ask you to be her guardian and
take care of her. Her father will be rejoiced when he knows she is with
you, for he told me he had doubts about her birth.”
Gaston de Foix, who seems to have taken a fancy to the child, willingly
agreed, and his cousin continued her journey, leaving the child,
who was from that time brought up by him as his own daughter in his
castle.[118]
The Comtesse d’Auvergne occasionally came to see her daughter, but she
always lived with her adopted father. At the time we are now concerned
with, the Duc de Berry, who was a widower, and nearly fifty years of
age, attracted by the riches and beauty of the child, now twelve years
old, wanted to marry her, much to the disapprobation of the King, who
thought it ridiculous. “Bel oncle,” he said, “what can you want with
a child (_une fillette_) like that? She is only twelve years old and
you are fifty! It is absurd for you to think of such a thing. Ask for
her for my cousin Jean, your son, who is of a proper age for her; the
affair would be much more suitable for him than for you.”
To which the Duke replied that he had already done so, but the Comte de
Foix would not hear of it, as, by his late mother, Jean descended from
the Comtes d’Auvergne, whom he hated; and that if the child were too
young the marriage could remain a form for three or four years, until
she was grown up.
The King laughed, again advised him not to proceed with the matter, but
said that as he persisted he would see to it. Therefore he sent Bureau
de la Rivière to treat with the Comte de Foix, to whom the Duke gave
3,000 francs for his care of the young girl, who was quite ready to
be Duchesse de Berry, did not care a bit for the age of the Duke, but
was delighted to marry so exalted a personage as the King’s uncle. The
Comte de Foix sent her with an escort of five hundred lances, she was
met by five hundred more with litters, chariots, and splendid dresses
sent by the Duc de Berry, to whom she was married amid much festivity
in presence of her father and other great nobles. And thus was an aunt
of twelve years old added to the youthful royal family of France.
The Duc de Berry was delighted with the little Duchess, so were the
King and Queen; she became an immense favourite at court, seems to have
got on extremely well with the Duke and to have thoroughly enjoyed
herself in her new life. She always expressed her gratitude to Bureau
de la Rivière for bringing about her marriage, and, as will be seen
later, he had every reason to congratulate himself that he had done so.
When, after many years, the Duc de Berry died and she married again,
she was not happy with her new husband and soon left him.
Just after this marriage came that of Louis, Duc de Touraine with
Valentine Visconti, daughter of Gian Galeazzo Visconti and Isabelle de
France, and consequently cousin both to the King and Queen. For it will
be remembered that the Queen’s mother was a Visconti; while Isabelle de
France was that little daughter of King Jean who was married so much
against her will to Gian Galeazzo Visconti, but who had lived in Italy
in great magnificence and honour; for the Visconti were delighted with
the alliance, and the birth of her daughter (who was also granddaughter
to the King of France) was received with great rejoicings all over the
dominions of her father-in-law. Isabelle died in 1373, and Valentine
was for a long time the only child of her father, as none of Isabelle’s
three sons grew to manhood, and when, seven years later, he married
Caterina Visconti, no children were born to them for eight years.
Valentine, therefore, was a great heiress, and was sought in marriage
all over Europe. But Gian Galeazzo, a quiet, rather shy man of studious
tastes, always surrounded with ecclesiastics and learned men from
all countries, would not part with the daughter who was his constant
companion. For Valentine was clever and fond of learning, she read and
spoke Latin, French, and German, and shared in the literary pursuits of
her father and the cultivated circle in which they lived. A mysterious
and sinister reputation hung over Gian Galeazzo Visconti. He was said
to carry his researches beyond the lawful limits of human knowledge. It
was whispered that the death of his uncle, Bernabo Visconti, might be
traced to a subtle poison administered at his instigation, and what at
that time caused even more terror than that of poison and assassination
was the suspicion of sorcery that clung to him and attached itself
afterwards to his daughter and even his son-in-law. In spite of the
roughness, cruelty, and callousness prevailing in those days north of
the Alps, the French regarded the Italians with feelings of mingled
fear, curiosity, and admiration. The glory of Italian art, the
splendour of Italian cities, the superior comfort and luxury of life in
those immense palaces in that delicious climate, the fearful deeds done
in the dungeons of the Italian tyrants, the learning and wisdom of the
scholars and students who pored by day over books and manuscripts and
watched the heavens from tower and loggia on starry, southern nights,
who knew how to read their future from the stars and to destroy their
enemies with a ring or a bunch of flowers; all this took firm hold on
the imagination of their northern neighbours, and made them look upon
Italy as a land full of romance, mystery, and supernatural dangers.
Valentine was twenty years of age when, in 1386, her father consented
to her betrothal to the brother of the King of France. The marriage was
much desired by the French as, besides Valentine’s enormous fortune, it
would bring back to France the county of Vertus, the dowry of Isabelle,
and also give her Asti, a whole province of towns, villages, and
castles, which would be a footing for the French in Italy.
It was not until the summer of 1389 that Valentine left her father
on her journey to France. It was afterwards reported at Paris that
the Duke of Milan said to her, “Fair daughter, when I see you again I
trust you will be Queen of France;” but this is probably untrue, more
especially as Gian Galeazzo, who had kept her as long as he could, rode
with her out of the gates of Pavia and then turned, without a word
of farewell, and rode silently back, not daring to look once more
into her beloved face. In the saddest of her tragic life Valentine
remembered with tears that silent parting.[119]
The King, Queen, Duc de Touraine, all the princes and the whole court
were waiting at Melun, where the marriage was celebrated with suitable
magnificence and much festivity. Valentine fell deeply in love with
the Duc de Touraine, although he was five years younger than herself.
She was not remarkably handsome, but very attractive, and in spite of
the perpetual infidelities of Louis her devotion to him never changed,
and she also lived on good terms with the Queen, notwithstanding the
disposition of Isabeau to entertain for her a jealousy which might well
have been reversed. Isabeau was then eighteen, in the height of her
beauty, the idol of the court and people, all the more as she was again
_enceinte_, and the hopes of every one were fixed on the birth of a
Dauphin.
Valentine was as superior to Isabeau as light to darkness. Ambitious,
cultivated, with brilliant intellectual powers, strong both to love and
hate, brave and gentle, no shadow of reproach rests on her name.
The King took a great fancy to her and used to call her his beloved
sister. She and Louis seem to have got on very harmoniously and
affectionately together on the whole, by which one must conclude she
must have been a woman of extraordinary tact and patience in some
matters.
She brought with her a most gorgeous trousseau of clothes and jewels;
amongst her many dresses was a scarlet one sewn thick with pearls and
diamonds, and a cap of scarlet and pearls for the hair; another of gold
brocade with sleeves and headdress of woven pearls.[120]
[Illustration]