soldier-saviour of Charles the Seventh of France, that another woman,
Agnes Sorel--Charles's good angel of a less militant order--has been
almost entirely overlooked, and where she has been remembered, has
been treated by the few with the honour due to her, and by the many
merely as Charles's mistress. But to her it was given to be a great
inspirer of Charles, and much of the good that this weak king and
ungrateful man did for his country may assuredly be in large measure
attributed to her influence, just as the greatest merit that can be
recorded of him personally was his devotion to her whilst she lived,
though the memory of her availed naught after she had passed away.
Agnes Sorel came as it were between the ebb and flow of the late
Middle Ages and the Renaissance, when chivalry, not as a passing
emotion but as an education, still lingered in men's relation with
women. Respect for womankind grew in the Middle Ages in France under
the double influence of religion and chivalry, of which the cult of
the Virgin and the cult of woman were the outcome. In honour of both,
men strove in tournament and fought in battle. With the cry, "For our
Lady," or "For God and my Lady," men hurled themselves into the thick
of the strife as if the goddess, whether divine or human, in whose
name they ventured, had made her champions invulnerable. And, in a
manner as it would seem of action and re-action, the goddess became
humanised and the woman deified. The former tendency may be traced in
miracles attributed to the Virgin, and, later, in the "Mysteries," and
the latter in tales of chivalry, where love is treated as a gift from
Heaven, and the recipients of it are idealised. Stories which seem to
contradict this, and to refute all accepted ideas of chivalry and
honour, are frequently original only in details, the bases being
borrowed from Oriental tales. Buddha's country, the land of the
Zenana, supplied much material of an exaggerated nature which in the
West became mere travesty.
It is always difficult to determine exactly the origin of anything so
subtle as a sentiment, especially one which gradually pervades and
influences a people. It is, in its way, at first like a soft breeze,
of which we can only see the effect. But as we try to discover some
definite, if only partial, reason for this interchange of simple human
relations between the Virgin and her votaries, we remember that St.
Francis, the embodiment of exalted human sentiment, had lived, and
that scholasticism, in that phase of it which treated the dialectical
subtleties of words as paramount, was on the wane. Hence spirit,
which had so long been restrained, and which is ever in conflict with
form, again prevailed, and mankind discovered that a loving Mother had
taken the place of a stately Queen in the Heavens. This attitude
towards the Virgin is revealed in the miracles attributed to her
agency. It is also shown in one of the greatest works of piety of the
thirteenth century, the _Meditations on the Life of Jesus Christ_,[36]
which, through the medium of the "Mysteries," introduced into sacred
pictorial art some of its most dramatic and appealing scenes. Where is
there to be found anything more tenderly human than the incident of
"Christ taking leave of His Mother" before His journey to Jerusalem to
consummate His mission?
[36] These meditations, attributed in the past, and by some
even now, to St. Bonaventura, are considered by other
scholars to be of Cistercian inspiration. P. Perdrizet, _La
Vierge de Miséricorde_, 1908, p. 15.
This note of the womanly element in its fairest form, gradually
insinuating itself more and more, and permeating life, art, and
literature, is the key to the right understanding of the position
which woman had attained in the civilised world.
Before turning our special attention to Agnes Sorel, let us recall the
condition of France at the beginning of the fifteenth century.
When the lunatic King Charles the Sixth died in 1422, and Charles, his
son, at the age of nineteen, succeeded under the title of "King of
Bourges," Paris was held by the Burgundians, who were in league with
the English. The Dukes of Burgundy and of Brittany were alike
vacillating in their policy, being at one time attached to the king's
party, and at another allied to the English. With the exception of a
few castles, the strongholds of lords loyal to the Crown, the English
possessed the whole of France north of the Loire, from the Meuse to
the Bay of Mont St. Michel. Hither the Duke of Bedford was sent as
regent for the English king, Henry the Sixth, then ten months old,
who, by the terms of the Treaty of Troyes (1420), was the lawful king,
the right of succession having been conferred on his father, Henry the
Fifth, when he married Catherine, the daughter of Charles the Sixth of
France.
Charles the Seventh divided his time between Bourges and Poitiers,
where the government was carried on, and Loches, Chinon, and Tours,
the places he dearly loved, and in which he sought the solitude he
craved for. But even in these seemingly peaceful retreats his lethargy
and indolence were disturbed by perpetual intrigues, which it must be
admitted were largely fostered by his own caprices and fickle
affections. Meanwhile a cry of misery was arising from the
war-devastated land. Churches and convents, castles and cottages, were
all fallen into ruin, and brambles grew on the untilled land where
once golden corn had waved. Peasants hid their horses during the day
and brought them out to graze at night. As Alain Chartier wrote at
the time, "Les pays champestres sont tournez à l'estat de la mer, où
chascun a tant de seigneurie comme il a de force." Men of all
conditions, from the proudest lord to the poorest peasant, joined in
spasmodic and detached efforts to drive out the English, but with the
result that they did little else than harass them. Want of cohesion
was the characteristic of the national resistance until, from a small
village in the east of France, there appeared a deliverer in the
person of Joan of Arc. Instantly, as if her sword were a magic wand,
all the fighting men, impelled and inspired by the strength of her
personality, rallied around her, and victory was assured.
The story of the siege and surrender of Orleans, of the crowning of
Charles in Rheims Cathedral, of Joan subsequently falling into the
hands of the Burgundians, who sold her to their allies, the English,
of her shameful trial and cruel death, are facts so well known that
they may well be passed over here as briefly as possible. Suffice it
to say, that, except for a time, even the triumph of this
maiden-patriot did little to rouse the indolent king, who speedily
returned to his selfish life in Touraine. War, pillage, and anarchy
again devastated France. But gradually a change came over Charles. He
seemed to awake as from a stupor. Dissolute and self-seeking
favourites were dismissed, and the king was surrounded by able and
high-minded men. He bestirred himself to make a final peace with
Burgundy and Brittany, and to take part in the war which was still
smouldering, though there were signs of its approaching end.
What was the secret of such a change? That it was due, in the first
instance, partly to the wise influence of his mother-in-law, Yolande
of Aragon, and partly also to that of his wife, Marie of Anjou, sister
of the good Duke René, seems almost certain, but that it was
intensified when Agnes Sorel came into his life, there can be no
doubt. When we consider the king's earlier life, and what it was
whilst he was under the influence of Agnes, and his relapse into
indolence and debauchery after her death, we can only attribute much
of this change to her sympathetic and wise guidance. Joan of Arc had
represented the popular element, Agnes Sorel represented the
aristocratic. Joan of Arc aroused the people to united action by her
enthusiasm and success, Agnes Sorel, in her time, helped to complete
the consolidation of the kingdom, by inspiring and sustaining the
king. Perhaps no one man could have accomplished such a revolution. It
took two women to do this, and what they did was not of mere passing
worth. Phoenix-like, France arose from the ashes of the Hundred Years'
War, and it was Agnes Sorel, as priestess, who stirred the embers
which hid the new life.
Voltaire, generally more ready to scoff than to approve, wrote thus of
Agnes Sorel:
Le bon roi Charles, au printemps de ses jours,
* * * * *
Avait trouvé, _pour le bien de la France_,
Une beauté, nommée Agnes Sorel.
Was it for the good of France? Let us disregard prejudices, and
examine facts. Even then, if all that is known of her were written, it
could only bear to this rare personality the resemblance which a faint
reflection does to reality.
Agnes Sorel was probably born about 1420 or 1422, in the Castle of
Fromenteau in Touraine.[37] Her father, Jean Soreau, or Sorel, was
Lord of Coudon, and belonged to the lesser nobility. It was in this
beautiful country of forest and meadow-land, of silvery rivers and
meandering streams, that Agnes spent her early years, her education
being principally religious, for religion naturally held the first
place in a society which still retained faith in the supernatural. It
was customary at that time for girls of noble birth to complete their
education either at Court or at the castle of some princely person,
for such places were considered excellent schools of courtesy and
other virtues for the daughters as well as for the sons of the
nobility.
[37] Both the date and the place of her birth seem uncertain.
Some writers suggest 1415, and some 1420 or 1422, as the
date; whilst Froidmantel, in Picardy, is conjectured by some,
and Fromenteau, in Touraine, by others, as the place. (Du
Fresne de Beaucourt, _Hist. de Charles VII_, t. iv. p. 171,
note 4.)
Though the date is uncertain, it was at the Court of Lorraine that
Agnes became maid-of-honour to the Duchess Isabelle, wife of René,
Duke of Anjou and Lorraine, and Count of Provence, a prince
distinguished for chivalry and learning. This intellectual and
chivalrous atmosphere must have been peculiarly congenial to the
sympathetic and versatile nature of Agnes Sorel. We can picture her
listening to the Duke René reading his latest poem to one or two of
his brother-poets in the castle pleasaunce, or discoursing on
philosophy or statecraft, or attending some brilliant pageant or
sumptuous fête. Chivalry, though dead as an institution, still
survived as a recreation, and as an appeal from the past to the
cultured imagination, and René, mediæval knight that he was in
sentiment, dearly loved the gorgeous spectacle of a tournament, with
the knight jousting in honour of his chosen lady. At this Court Agnes
also came under the influence of Yolande of Aragon, widow of Louis,
King of Naples and Sicily, great-granddaughter of King John of France,
mother of the Duke René, and mother-in-law of King Charles the
Seventh, a woman renowned for her extraordinary political capacity.
All these ties, and the remembrance of the French blood in her veins,
emphasised Yolande's dominant passion--the love of France,--and it may
well be that in this patriotic atmosphere Agnes Sorel became imbued
with a like passion, which later she was to develop in all its
perfection, rivalled only by her devotion to the well-being and glory
of her royal lover.
Patriotism was a virtue of recent growth in France, for, in order to
thrive, it requires unity of idea, and during the Middle Ages the only
idea common to all was Christianity, which, from the nature of its
teaching of humility and fraternity, does not make for patriotism. It
may cement the structure, but it does not form the basis. It was only
after years of suffering and unrest that men learned to sink their
individual and local interests in those of the nation as a whole.
Then, and only then, could patriotism arise, and only under such
conditions could it flourish.
How long Agnes lived at the Court of Lorraine (one of the most refined
and cultured Courts of the time), and how her first meeting with the
king came about, is uncertain. It has been considered likely that
between 1431 and 1435 Isabelle of Lorraine went to Chinon to beseech
the king to use his influence to obtain the release of her husband,
imprisoned by his cousin, a rival claimant to the duchy of Lorraine.
It is possible that Agnes, even if only born in 1422, may have
accompanied her, but even if she did not, this visit of Isabelle's
may, indirectly, have led to the meeting between the king and Agnes.
Whilst still a prisoner, René succeeded to the crown of Naples on the
death of his brother, Louis d'Anjou, and as the country was in a
disturbed condition it was deemed prudent for Isabelle, his wife, to
act as his substitute, and, as _lieutenante générale_, she set forth
to establish his claim. History is silent on the point as to whether
Agnes accompanied her or not. It may be, as some seem to think, that
she remained in Anjou with Isabelle's eldest daughter, Marguerite,
afterwards Queen of England. We should like to think that it was
during this time that she attracted the notice of Charles, for this
would lend additional interest to the exquisite miniature in the Musée
du Louvre (at one time in the Book of Hours of Etienne Chevalier, now
for the most part at Chantilly), which it seems probable represents
Agnes Sorel as a youthful shepherdess, with the Castle of Loches in
the background and Charles the Seventh riding towards her. As we have
already suggested elsewhere,[38] this may have been a poetical
rendering of their first meeting. However this may be, it seems
probable that it was soon after the year 1435[39] that she first
attracted the notice of Charles, and that, later, she took up her
residence in Touraine, no doubt gaining her influence over the king at
first by her beauty, which all her contemporaries proclaim, and
afterwards by that mysterious combination of ability and grace, of
intelligence and physical vitality, which held him captive for many
years. During this time she, like a true woman, and no ordinary
place-hunter, made his devotion to her react upon himself, for the
good of his country and to his own honour. She not only counselled him
wisely herself, but persuaded him to surround himself with wise
counsellors.
[38] _Athenæum_, June 25, 1904.
[39] Du Fresne de Beaucourt, _Hist. de Charles VII_, t. iii.
p. 286.
Of these counsellors, and the able and devoted men who served the king
in divers ways, some few stand out more prominently than the rest,
because of their position of intimacy in the royal circle, and their
special and enduring friendship with Agnes Sorel. Such were Etienne
Chevalier, Treasurer of France; Pierre de Brézé, of a noble Angevin
family, and Sénéchal of Normandy after the expulsion of the English;
and Jacques Coeur, the king's superintendent of Finance, whose house at
Bourges, with its angel-ceiled chapel, still delights the traveller.
Etienne Chevalier was for some time secretary to the king, and after
filling one or two smaller posts connected with finance, was made
Treasurer of France, and member of the Grand Council. In addition to
administrative capacity, he possessed a brilliant intellect and a
great love of art. It is to his initiative that we owe the only
suggestions in portraiture of Agnes Sorel. It was to him also that the
king confided the supervision of the erection of the monuments to her
memory at Jumièges and Loches--Jumièges where she died in 1449, and
where her heart was buried, and Loches her favourite place of sojourn,
and to whose church and chapter she had made large gifts. To Loches
her body was borne in royal splendour, and there laid to rest in the
choir of the church in a simple tomb. We can imagine the loving care
with which Etienne Chevalier watched the sculptor, and possibly even
gave him suggestions, as he fashioned in alabaster her recumbent
effigy representing her with hands clasped as if in prayer, her feet
resting against two lambs, and her head guarded by two angels with
outstretched wings. Perhaps this stone effigy was the one true
portrait of Agnes, but the head and face were partially destroyed
during the Revolution, and restored in their present form in 1806, so
that little of the original now remains.
[Illustration: _Loches._
TOMB OF AGNES SOREL.
_To face page 158._]
This tomb, which to-day may be seen in a small vestibule of the
Château Royale (now the Sous-Préfecture), has a strange and chequered
history. Perhaps scarce another has suffered such singular
vicissitudes, so many removals, or more ruthless violations. Soon
after the death of Charles the Seventh (1461), the canons of Loches,
whom Agnes had largely endowed and of whom she asked naught save to be
remembered in their prayers, petitioned Louis the Eleventh for its
transfer to a side chapel, since they considered it unfitting for the
dust of such an one to repose in the choir. Louis, using his subtlety
to better purpose than was his wont, replied that if they removed the
tomb, they must return her gifts. Naturally these worthy ecclesiastics
silenced their consciences and kept the tomb where it was. However, in
the year 1777, in the reign of Louis the Sixteenth, the priestly
conscience again awoke to the enormity of its presence within the
choir, and, with the king's consent, it was removed to the nave.
Before re-burial the coffin was opened in the presence of various
church dignitaries and State officials. Among the latter was a doctor
who left an authoritative account of the proceedings, from which we
can approximately surmise the height of La Dame de Beauté, and verify
the record of her abundant fair hair. The exterior coffin of oak was
only 5 feet 6 inches long. Within this, and protected by another of
lead, was a shell of cedar wood in which, after the lapse of more than
three centuries, lay all that was mortal of Agnes Sorel. Her fair hair
was plaited in a long tress, and two curls rested on her forehead. As
one of those present, more curious than his fellows, stretched out his
hand to touch, all fell to dust. Death and Time were her guardian
angels. But even this desecration did not suffice to drain the cup of
unmerited vengeance. In 1793 the tomb was rifled, the sculptured
features, so lovingly wrought, defaced, and her dust cast to the
winds. But what matter? Agnes had done her work--work which had to be
done, and which she alone could do.
Another of the little band of chosen spirits of which Agnes was the
soul and centre, was Pierre de Brézé, Lord of Varenne and Brissac, who
early showed himself a man of affairs, and was admitted to the King's
Council when he was but twenty-seven. In war, administration, and
finance, he proved himself equally trustworthy and skilful, and to
these qualities he added others of a brilliant intellectual nature. He
advanced from one post of trust to another, until the king himself
presented him with the keys of the city and castle of Rouen. Thus he
became Sénéchal of Normandy, an honour which remained in his family.
One of his grandsons, Louis de Brézé, a son of Charlotte, daughter of
Agnes Sorel and Charles the Seventh, was the husband of Diane de
Poitiers.
Jacques Coeur, whose life was so intimately associated with the Court
during Agnes's lifetime, and so sadly marred and ended after her
death, was the son of a simple merchant of Bourges. Following in the
wake of many adventurous and ambitious merchants of the time, he
journeyed to the East and amassed a large fortune, which he placed at
the disposal of the king. This enabled Charles to carry on the war in
spite of his impoverished exchequer, and to make a final and
successful effort against the English. But, like many another on whom
Fortune has smiled, evil tongues and envious hearts began, ere long,
their vampire work, and after the death of his friend and patroness,
Agnes Sorel, Charles made no effort on his behalf, but left him at the
mercy of his calumniators in the same base and heartless way in which
he had abandoned Joan of Arc. Jacques, his goods confiscated, and his
life in danger, was obliged to fly the country, and died fighting, in
the Pope's service, against the Turk.
Of the beauty of Agnes Sorel there can be no doubt, for all
contemporary chroniclers and poets tell of it. Even the Pope, Pius the
Second, allowed himself to add his tribute of praise to the general
homage. Considering that there are so many types of physical beauty,
appealing to as many different temperaments, there must have been
something rare and remarkable in Agnes to have attracted and held
bound all who came in contact with her. We can but conclude that this
unanimous judgment could only have been the result of that mysterious
union, so illusive, so indefinable, of spiritual with physical beauty.
The records of the time merely tell us that she had blue eyes, and
fair hair in abundance. The only picture, and this not done from life,
by which we can judge her--for the miniatures by Fouquet, at
Chantilly, from Etienne Chevalier's Book of Hours, though exquisite in
delicacy, are too minute for much characterisation--is, even if we
accept it as the original from Fouquet's hand, an overcleaned work in
the Museum at Antwerp.[40] This, or the original painting, formed a
wing of the so-called diptych painted to adorn the tomb of Etienne
Chevalier and his wife in the Cathedral of Melun, the other wing--now
in the Royal Museum, Berlin--representing Etienne Chevalier himself,
in the attitude of prayer, his patron saint, St. Stephen, beside him.
There seems reason, however, to suppose that this offering of
Etienne's was in fact a triptych, and that the missing wing pictured
his young wife, then lately dead (1452). If this was so, Etienne and
his wife would have appeared in adoration on either side of the Queen
of Heaven, here personated by Agnes Sorel, thus bringing the panel
with Etienne's portrait into harmony with the central panel, which
otherwise it fails to be.
[40] Du Fresne de Beaucourt, _Hist. de Charles VII_, t. iv.
p. 171, note 2.
[Illustration: _Musée de Chantilly._
BOOK OF HOURS OF ETIENNE CHEVALIER.
_To face page 162._]
Of the miniatures at Chantilly, the whole series of which forms a most
tender and rare tribute to wife and friend, only brief mention can
here be made of those concerning Agnes. The most simple and beautiful
in sentiment and design is that of the _Annunciation_, in which the
seated Virgin, in the likeness of Agnes Sorel, with bowed head
receives the angel's message. The scene is laid in a Gothic chapel
(perhaps the Sainte Chapelle with slight adaptations to suit the
artist's fancy),[41] with statues of the Prophets all around, and
Moses, holding the Books of the Law, as the central figure of the
group. This assemblage of Old Testament seers certainly typified the
Old dispensation, whilst the Annunciation prefigures the New, and to
us the whole may not unfitly form an allegory of the new order which
Agnes Sorel was to help to bring about. In another miniature--the
_Visit of the Magi_--Charles the Seventh, accompanied by his
Scottish guard, and with the Castle of Loches in the background,
himself kneels as one of the kings before the Virgin, here also
represented in the likeness of Agnes. And so on, throughout the
series, in many of the scenes of the Virgin's life we find her bearing
the features of Agnes until an older and sadder type becomes necessary
in the _Crucifixion_, the _Entombment_, and the _Announcement of the
Death_ and the _Death_ of the Virgin. When, however, death has
transfigured age and sorrow, the likeness of Agnes reappears in the
_Assumption_, and _Coronation_, and, the crowning glory, the
_Enthronement_ of the Virgin.
[41] Cf. _Grandes Chroniques de France_, fol. 292, Bib. Nat.
[Illustration: _Musée de Chantilly._
BOOK OF HOURS OF ETIENNE CHEVALIER.
_To face page 163._]