1398-1400
Illness of the King--Execution of sorcerers--Birth of Jean
de France--Death of Queen Blanche de Navarre--Household
of Isabeau--Ludwig of Bavaria--Ancient Paris--The Queen’s
châteaux--Burgundy and Orléans--Henry of Lancaster--The
plague--Revolution in England--The Dauphin Charles.
In 1398 things did not improve. The King had fewer lucid intervals,
during one of which, however, he went to Reims and entertained with
lavish hospitality the Emperor Wenceslas. The two monks were still at
the Bastille occupied with their necromancy, but as it had no effect
upon the King, who had more attacks than ever this year, the terror
they inspired began to diminish, while the horror excited by their
supposed dealings with the powers of darkness remained. Seeing the
danger of their position they tried to propitiate the Duke of Burgundy
by laying the blame of their failure on the Duc d’Orléans, saying that
the diabolic arts he employed against the King were too strong for them
to counteract. But by this outrageous accusation against the King’s
brother, they had gone too far. The Duc d’Orléans complained, the monks
were arrested and given over to the clergy, who delivered them to the
provost of Paris, and they were soon afterwards beheaded.
{1398}
In August another son was born to the King and Queen and named
Jean.[171]
In October died Queen Blanche de Navarre, alike beloved and honoured
by the royal family, the court, and the people. The adventures of her
brilliant youth when she shared the throne of Philippe de Valois, or
the fortunes of her brothers, the gallant Princes of Navarre, have been
related in a former volume. She had always been rich and powerful,
but never through oppressing her subjects or vassals, so that they
loved and venerated her as a mother. She was the providence of the
poor and suffering, and a good friend to the religious houses. With
every earthly gift and advantage, brilliant beauty, an irresistible
fascination, distinguished talents, high rank and great riches, living
in the midst of the most dissipated court in Europe, no taint of
dishonour ever sullied her name; she seemed, in the midst of all the
cruelty, violence, and corruption with which she was surrounded, like
a bright star in a dark and stormy sky. For fifty years she had been
Queen-dowager, and she had been present certainly at the marriage of
the eldest, and almost certainly at the marriage of the second, and
the consecration of the third of the great-great-granddaughters of her
husband. Her dowry reverted to the crown, her personal property, which
was large, she divided between her favourite nephew, Pierre de Navarre,
and certain charities. But as to the relic she left to the Carmelite
Church, the worthy monk of St. Denis earnestly declares that she
“was deceived by vain and lying tongues of those who brought it from
Constantinople, for the only true and undoubted nail which pierced our
Lord belongs to St. Denis and nowhere else, as is proved by the history
of Charlemagne and by continued miracles which for five hundred years
have been done by contact of that relic.”[172]
The officers of her household went to ask the Dukes of Burgundy, Berry,
and Orléans whether, not having been crowned Queen, her funeral was to
be at St. Denis with royal pomp. To which (the King being probably ill
then) they replied at once that it was undoubtedly to be so, and it was
attended by all the royal family and court.[173]
The health of the King gradually grew worse. The attacks came oftener
and lasted longer. But whenever they subsided, as they often did quite
suddenly, he became sane again, resumed the government, went out
hunting and hawking, and took part in everything, whether amusement or
business, as usual. During his intervals of insanity, the Queen ought
of course to have been a most important part of the government, but
she cared nothing about that or any rational thing; what interested
her were only the dissipations of the court, her dress, the sums of
money and treasure she could collect, eating and drinking, and the
constant society of Louis d’Orléans. The only praiseworthy or harmless
tastes she had were a sort of natural affection for her children and
a fondness for animals of which she had a good many for pets. She
was also fond of music. Amongst the accounts of the period we find
sums paid to the “_varlet de chambre_” of Madame Michelle de France
for having, during her absence at Poissy (probably to attend the
consecration of her little sister) mended her gold cup which the monkey
had broken; to Guillaume Juvel “_varlet de chambre de la royne_,” for
money lent the Queen to give a poor man who had given her a goldfinch
that would eat out of her hand; also for a milch cow for Monseigneur
Jehan de France and for a tent for him with tapestries with histories
on them; for the harpist of the Queen and the minstrels of the Dauphin;
and for a large box of wood and iron with holes in it to burn a
candle by night in the room of Madame Jehanne de France. Among the
same accounts come splendid clothes for the Queen’s _relevailles_ on
getting up after her confinement; baths of oak; sums for putting iron
on two large cupboards in the Queen’s stables at St. Paul to keep the
harness of pearls and embroidery of her horses; for two pair of wheels
for her “_char_”; for mending some tapestries bearing the histories of
nine heroes, that is to say, Joshua, David, Judas Maccabeus, Hector,
Alexander, Cæsar, Arthur, Charlemagne, and Godefroi de Bouillon;
histories of the seven deadly sins, of the seven ages of man; of
Godefroi de Bouillon, of the Dukes of Aquitaine; and the history of
stags.
{1399}
And for making a chair of red Cordova leather fringed with silk, gilt
nails, and two gold chains, decorated and painted with choice colours.
Isabeau had much more idea of comfort than had hitherto been usual
even in the palaces of the Kings of France. Mingled with the splendour
that had been more or less customary for some generations we see
various attempts at convenience not yet introduced. She is said to have
been the first to use a “suspended carriage,” and those she had were
luxurious and commodious to a degree never seen before, and drawn by
very swift horses. She had one chariot on purpose for thunderstorms,
“_pour le tonnerre_,” but in what the safety of it consisted is not
stated.[174]
She had _calorifères_ like little iron chariots filled with red-hot
ashes wheeled about the cold galleries of the palaces, and hollow balls
of gold and silver full of red-hot cinders to hold in the hand as
_chaufferettes_. In hot weather she caused herself to be fanned by huge
fans to keep her cool and drive away the flies; her rooms were hung
with costly tapestry and stuffs which were taken down and went with
her from one palace to another. She had one room entirely hung with
white satin, another with green satin, and her plate was almost always
of gold. She used an Eastern talisman against poison, fastened with a
silver gilt chain to her goblet and salt-cellar, and an officer of her
household tried every dish before she tasted it. She had a cupboard
painted and decorated by a skilful artist, in which she kept her relics
and perfumes. For the latter she had a mania. She always kept damask
rose water about her, and used also a great quantity of what were
called “_oiselets de Chypre_.” These were little bottles something the
shape of birds, filled with different Oriental perfumes. She and her
ladies were constantly eating all sorts of sweetmeats, of which there
seem to have been innumerable kinds.[175]
[Illustration: BEDROOM OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY.]
Carpets were sometimes, but not generally used, the floors were still
strewn with rushes and fresh boughs, especially the great halls and
banqueting rooms. It was, however, usual to lay them on the steps
going up to the great beds, and the floors of many of the rooms in the
palaces were of wood, often inlaid.
They must have looked both magnificent and comfortable, those great
bedrooms in the palaces and _hôtels_ of the nobles. The huge bed in
an alcove or corner, steps covered with rich carpets going up to
it, and curtains of silk or some costly material, carved cupboards,
chests and seats, beams of the ceilings painted or gilded, walls hung
with tapestry, windows protected by trellises of iron and filled with
stained glass, a huge chimney-place, sculptured all over with figures
and armorial bearings, on the hearth of which blazed great logs, while
by it at right angles a tall carved settle kept away the draught.
The Queen’s bath was of carved oak, furnished or lined with bath
sheets or towels. Over it was a canopy with curtains, which drew all
round.[176]
One thing appears to be certain, and that is that, although at this
time houses were insanitary and the streets narrow and dirty, with
open sewers in them, people were personally far cleaner than at a
later day.[177] All through the Valois times, down to 1600, there were
plenty of _étuves_, or public bath-houses, to which every one who had
not baths in their own houses used often to go. There were hot and
vapour baths, and some of these establishments were extremely luxurious
and elegant, and were used for other purposes besides bathing. People
who were starting on a journey often slept at them the night before,
setting off from them in the morning; they were often much resorted to
as _rendezvous_, and many were the scenes of license and revelry which
took place in them when the young nobles and courtiers, led often by
Louis d’Orléans, adjourned there after some supper or banquet.[178]
The priests were very angry with them, and often preached against
them, and so, later on, did the Huguenot ministers. By 1600 they
had much diminished in number and importance, and soon after they
disappeared,[179] which was a great pity, for of course it did no good
at all; people were just as immoral as before, and not nearly so clean.
But this is another instance of the mischief done by the misplaced
activity of those busy, fanatical folks, who, with the most excellent
intentions in their attempts to reform either religion or morals,
direct their attacks upon something which is in itself perfectly
harmless, or even valuable to the majority of people, doing all they
can to deprive them of it, simply because they see some persons make an
improper use of it. The early Christians were always preaching against
those magnificent Roman baths, the destruction of which was such an
irreparable loss to the people.[180] The Puritans, thinking that the
morals of many plays and the lives of many actors left much to be
desired, would, even in the last generation, have done away with all
theatres if they had been allowed. And in our own days have we not many
instances of the same kind?
In spite of all the suffering she caused and the harm she did, we
do not gather that Isabeau was at all actively harsh, cruel, or
disagreeable. She seems to have been liked by the companions of her
follies, the servants of her household, and her ladies, of whom she had
four _dames_, four _demoiselles de corps_, and two others. Her vices,
faults, and deficiencies were just the worst she could have had in the
present crisis, for they made her not only useless, but mischievous. If
she had had brains, decision of character, courage, and common sense,
she might also have been proud, passionate, vindictive, or ambitious,
to any extent, and yet have been a great queen, and perhaps the
salvation of France.
But Isabeau’s faults were not those of a great character. She was
selfish, lazy, frivolous, vain, and avaricious. She let the reins
of government remain without an effort or complaint in the hands
of the Duke of Burgundy, she allowed the overbearing interference
of the Duchess until it became perfectly insupportable. She now
occupied herself in amassing for herself an enormous private fortune,
considering that the health of the King gave every cause for fear, and
that she had had no dowry on her marriage. She had certainly secured
to herself by letters of the King, 1394, a revenue of 25,000 _livres_,
representing at that time an enormous sum;[181] but besides this she
was constantly collecting and storing away in chests, gold, jewels,
plate, unset diamonds, and other precious stones, title deeds of lands,
everything she could lay her hands upon, in which she was assisted by
her brother, Ludwig of Bavaria, who was constantly in France, getting a
large share of the spoils, wrung by taxation from the people. Isabeau
seems to have had more affection for him than for any one else, and
never appears to have changed towards him. From what little can be
known about him he must have been very much like her, he was generally
with her and Louis d’Orléans, and the people hated him, perhaps, most
of all. Isabeau caused him to be _grand maître d’hôtel_ to the King
for some years, and married him first to Anne de Bourbon, Comtesse
de Montpensier, and then to Catherine d’Alençon, widow of Pierre de
Navarre, both princesses of the blood. He was apparently corrupt,
dissipated, greedy after money, shallow, and useless.
[Illustration: OLD PARIS.]
Though the streets of Paris were narrow and winding, yet both city and
faubourgs had many large gardens and enclosures, or _clos_, as they
were called, which belonged to the abbeys, convents, palaces, and
hotels of the King and nobles. First, there was the famous _Prè aux
clercs_, renowned in romance, mentioned several times in this and a
former volume, which was so large that De Sauval says: “_Il se va perdu
bien loin dans la campagne_,” and which only began to be built upon in
1630. The _clos des Jacobins_ was nine acres, where now are the streets
of la Madeleine, St. Thomas, St. Dominique, &c., and it was said that
before part of it was cut through to make the moats and fortifications
in the reign of Jean, it went up to the walls of the university.[182]
The _clos des Cordeliers_ was also enormous, and in fact the great
enclosures, gardens, vineyards, meadows, and even preserves for rabbits
and other game, were so numerous as to form an important feature in the
ancient capital.
For those who care for the history of Paris there still remain in the
byeways antique houses, picturesque corners, and old streets, around
which cling the historic memories dear to their hearts, but to the
great majority to whom it appears as nothing but an endless succession
of broad streets and boulevards lined with trees, superb, monotonous,
uninteresting houses copied from the Italian, and splendid shops; it
would be impossible to picture to themselves mediæval Paris as it
existed at the time of which this book treats.
Mr. Harrison, in an interesting essay on the transformation of Paris,
says: “The modern streets, to which our tourists confine their walks,
form after all only a gigantic screen, behind which much of old Paris
still remains untouched.”
Until 1789 Paris remained a mediæval city. It would, of course, be out
of the question in a work like this to attempt to give any real account
of it, but it is possible to catch just a glimpse of what the aspect
and life of the city must then have been by careful researches into the
many splendid works in the Bibliothèque Nationale, the British Museum,
and other places, which are filled with pictures and descriptions of it.
With its lofty walls, towers, gates, and moats, old Paris looked, as
it was, a fortress. Inside it was a dense, tangled network of dark
lanes, narrow, crooked streets, huge palaces, mediæval fortresses and
conventual enclosures. Here and there came a tower or Gothic portal,
churches, bridges, and quays crowded with confused piles of lofty
wooden houses, walled gardens with terraces, courts, and colonnades;
while those great royal and feudal castles, the _Châtelet_, the
_Bastille_, the _Temple_, and the _Louvre_, frowned over the city.
The sanitary state of Paris was such that it is difficult to understand
why any one was left alive. Narrow, unpaved streets, with open sewers
running down the middle of them, cemeteries and charnel houses in the
heart of the city, drinking water taken direct from the Seine, it is
no wonder that there were such numbers of deaths of children and young
people, and that so few attained to old age. Of all the children of
Philippe de Valois only two lived to grow up; out of the numerous
family of Charles V. only two survived their childhood. Charles VI. had
twelve children, and though only four died in childhood, scarcely one
reached forty-five years. The sons and daughters of King Jean must have
been exceptionally strong, for all except one grew up, and one or two
lived to be quite old. And if this were the case with the royal family,
it was not likely to be better with those who lived under much less
favourable conditions.
Not only within the walls, but for many miles outside them stood a
profusion of churches, convents, abbeys, chapels, oratories of all
sizes, from the mighty _St. Germain des Près_ to the smallest chantry
on the pier of a bridge. Rich in works of art, gorgeous in colour,
paintings, frescoes, mosaics, stained glass, carved statues, coloured
marbles, gold and silver plate, bronzes, ivories, silks, velvets,
tapestries, embroideries, illuminated books, bells, clocks, perfumes,
organs, instruments of music, choirs of singers, every beautiful and
delightful thing was crowded together with the relics of saints and
tombs of great men, miraculous images, lamps, candles on thousands of
altars, offerings dedicated to countless saints and martyrs. The Church
was school, art museum, place of instruction, prayer, confession of
sin, preaching, and civilising. The great convents and monasteries
were the schools, colleges, hospitals and poorhouses. They existed in
design for the poor, diseased, and wretched. Christ loved the weak and
suffering, and the doors of His house stood ever open to the weak,
the suffering, the halt, the blind, and the lame. The poorest, the
weakest, the most abject, were welcome there. The priest, the monk,
and the nun taught, clothed, and nursed the suffering poor and their
children; there was consolation in heaven for those who had found earth
a hell.[183]
Strange and characteristic were the names of many of the streets
and houses, such as Cherche-midi, Trois-morts-et-trois-vifs,
L’Ymage-de-Saint Nicolas, Quatre-fils-Aymon, Ami-du-cœur, Panier-vert,
Hospice des Quinze-Vingts,[184] beside the Croissant, Lyon d’or, Gerbe
d’or, Croix blanche, Homme sauvage, Couronne, Cheval blanc, and many
others still in use. Isabeau had several hôtels of her own amongst
this tangled labyrinth of streets, buildings, and gardens. First, the
hôtel de la Reine, which was one of the group of hôtels connected by
galleries and colonnades, surrounded by gardens, built by Charles V.,
and called St. Paul. Then she had one in the faubourg St. Marcel, given
her by the Duc de Berry, and another out in the country near Pouilly,
called Val-la-Reine. Some years later she bought another, called
Bagnolet, with a good deal of land and a windmill, besides all other
accessories; it had also about six thousand elms and many other trees.
And in this year she bought the hôtel Barbette, in the vieille rue du
Temple. This she enlarged, bought all the ground about it to turn into
gardens, and used it as a place of diversion.[185]
[Illustration: THE LOUVRE FROM THE HÔTEL DE NESLE.]
During this year one Salmon, a gentleman of the household of the
Queen of England, who had gone with her to that country on her
marriage, arrived with letters from King Richard, who wished to send
the King and Queen of France news of the welfare and happiness of
their daughter. Charles and Isabeau, delighted to hear about her,
received the messenger with great honour. Richard appears to have
felt some uneasiness at the friendship between Henry, son of the Duke
of Lancaster, and the Duc d’Orléans. For Henry of Lancaster was
already his secret enemy and dangerous rival, and the Duc d’Orléans
was extremely powerful and ambitious; the Venetians sent ambassadors
to him, and European princes appealed to him as to an independent
sovereign. Year after year the dissension grew deeper between him and
his uncle of Burgundy, who persisted in retaining the regency, which
Louis declared ought to be his, during the King’s frequent attacks of
insanity.
The year 1399 was an unfortunate one in every way. Troubles and dangers
were beginning to gather in England, threatening the safety of Richard
and Isabelle, and causing the greatest anxiety to the King and Queen
of France. In March and April there were great floods. The Seine
overflowed the whole country and destroyed the seeds, so that the crops
were ruined and the country made so unhealthy that the plague began
again. For eight days a dreadful comet flamed in the sky, which every
one said foreboded evil.[186]
Henry of Lancaster, Earl of Hereford and Derby, had become Duke of
Lancaster through his father’s death, and having been exiled for
treasonable practices by King Richard was spending some months at the
French court. Richard seized the duchy of Lancaster and wrote to the
King of France, complaining of the disloyalty of Henry and begging
him not to consent to his marriage with Marie, daughter of the Duc de
Berry, who, though only twenty-three, was a widow for the second time,
and would have brought him great riches and powerful alliances.[187]
The Duc de Berry was quite willing to agree to the marriage, but
Charles spoke to the Duke of Burgundy, who, when Henry, still called
Earl of Derby, took occasion, the King, princes, and court being
assembled, to speak of the matter, said in the name of the King:
“Cousin, we cannot give our cousin to a traitor.” Henry replied
indignantly that he was no traitor, and defied any one who should
call him so; whereupon Charles, who really liked him, and besides was
weak and confused with illness, softened the refusal by assuring him
that the words of his uncle of Burgundy were inspired by England, and
that no one in France doubted his honour. That as to the marriage, it
could be spoken of another time, but first it was necessary that he
should be invested with his duchy of Lancaster. After which wine and
dessert (_épices_) were served and the subject dropped.[188] Henry of
Lancaster, who was crafty enough, succeeded in deluding and making
friends with the King and princes, even gaining over the Duke of
Burgundy; and then returned to England.
The plague grew worse and worse; so fatal was the epidemic that it
was forbidden at Paris to publish the lists of the dead. The court
moved for a time into Normandy, there were litanies, sermons, and
processions, but as the monk of St. Denis says, “many abbeys were
nearly depopulated, though the abbey of St. Denis only lost one
brother, who passed without doubt to the abode of the blessed.” The
plague was about in the country for two years.
Disquieting reports were brought from England to the French coast
by some merchants of Bruges.[189] It was rumoured that a revolution
had taken place, that King Richard had been deposed, and that both he
and the young queen were in captivity. The King and Queen of France
were in the deepest anxiety about their daughter and nobody could
tell what had happened (which is a strange reflection, in this, the
five-hundredth year after these events). The court returned to the
capital, and suddenly all Paris was thrown into excitement by the news
that the Dame de Coucy, _grande-maitresse_ to the Queen of England, had
arrived unexpectedly at her family hôtel. Directly Charles heard of it
he rushed to the hôtel de Coucy to see her. He found her in great alarm
and dismay, having been banished from England, and all that she told
him of the dethronement, imprisonment, and danger of his son-in-law
and the captivity of his daughter so distressed and incensed him that
although he had been rather unusually well for some little time, he
fell into a frenzy of madness which for the present rendered him
incapable of doing anything.[190]
{1400}
The astonishment and anger of all the French princes at these events
knew no bounds. They cursed the insolent London burghers who had dared
to rebel against their King, were furious with Henry of Lancaster, of
whose resistance to Richard they had never contemplated such a result;
and tried to stir up against him the inhabitants of the remaining
English possessions in France, but without success; for although
attached to Richard, who was born at Bordeaux, the inhabitants of
Bordeaux, Bayonne, &c., were so much better governed, less taxed, and
more prosperous than their French neighbours that they declined to
exchange the English for the French rule.
The people of Paris, discontented and uneasy at the King’s illness
and the various misfortunes that kept happening, bethought themselves
that they never saw anything of the Dauphin, who was delicate and did
not appear much in public. They therefore insisted on his being shown
to them, and his uncles, in consequence, made him ride through Paris
to St. Denis, attended by a _cortège_ of nobles. There was a state
banquet there, and the people, delighted with the Dauphin and the
splendid pageant, thronged the whole way, singing hymns and litanies,
and praying for the little lad who rode in state for the first and last
time as the heir of France.[191]