Jeanne de Bourbon was the great-granddaughter of Saint Louis. Her father was Pierre, Duc de Bourbon, and her mother Isabelle, one of the younger daughters of Charles, Comte de Valois.3 Their eldest daughter, Jeanne, was born February 3, 1335, and within a year or so of each other their second daughter, Blanche, and their son Louis.4 The other daughters were Bonne, Catherine, MarguÉrite, Isabelle (?), and Marie.5

The Duchesse de Bourbon being a half-sister of Philippe, and her husband one of his favourite companions, they spent most of their time and money also, at Paris, Vincennes, and the other royal palaces in the gay, brilliant days when first the Valois came to the throne.

Jeanne was born at Vincennes, and passed her childhood at that magnificent court over which she was so early chosen to reign. She was betrothed at six years old to Amadeo VI. (afterwards called the Green Count) of Savoy.6 With the state and splendour that surrounded her earliest years were mingled those national calamities which had already begun to cast their shadow over the kingdom of France.

The Hundred Years’ War had broken out soon after her birth. The disastrous sea-fight ending in the total destruction of the French navy, took place in 1338.

Taxes were high; there had been bad harvests, bringing famine and pestilence. France was already less prosperous than she had been under the CapÉtiens kings.

The terrors and troubles of the English war must have left a deep impression on the imagination of the gentle child, who seems to have been remarkable for her beauty and sweetness of disposition. She was between nine and ten years old at the time when the English host lay encamped near Paris, when gates and walls were strictly guarded and men were arming in haste, while fugitives poured into Paris all day, and the nights were illumined with flames of burning castles and villages. Her father was in the battle of CrÉcy, but returned in safety, and not long afterwards her little sister Bonne was married to the younger son of the Duc de Brabant. The Princess Joan, eldest daughter of the Duc de Normandie, was married on the same day to the elder son of the Duc de Brabant, by the desire of the King, who wrote orders that his granddaughter and niece should be ready on a certain day to meet the two boys who were to be their husbands. The ceremony took place, but both the boys died a little later of the plague. Joan afterwards became Queen of Navarre, and Bonne Countess of Savoy.

The Duchesse de Bourbon and her children must have left Paris and returned to their home in the Bourbonnais, for the Duke wrote there from Paris on July 22, 1348, to announce to his eldest daughter, whose engagement to the Comte de Savoie had been broken off, that her uncle, Gui, Comte de Forez, had brought proposals of marriage for her from Humbert, Dauphin du Viennois, which he had accepted. But the plague was then raging all over the Lyonnais, so that it was out of the question to run the risk of travelling at that time. The Duke therefore induced the Dauphin to consent to the marriage being deferred for the present. Humbert was scarcely a suitable husband for Jeanne, who was then eleven years old, while he was a widower, whose only son had lost his life by falling from his arms out of a balcony, as he was playing with him. The shock of this accident and the loss of his heir had cast a gloom over the life of the Dauphin, and when a second time the Duc de Bourbon sought to delay the arrangements for the marriage, he replied that in that case he considered himself free from all engagements. The Duc de Bourbon, on hearing this, went to meet the Dauphin, and after an interview between the two princes the negotiations were resumed, in January, 1349, and the middle of February following was fixed upon for their fulfilment. But whether the desire to quit the world and seek the consolations of religion in the retirement of the cloister had already taken strong hold upon his mind, or whether the secret ambition and intrigues of the French court had any influence on the matter, it was suddenly given out that the Dauphin had decided to renounce the world and enter the order of St. Dominic, and had arranged for the immediate cession of his estates to the King’s grandson, Charles, eldest son of the Duke of Normandy. Humbert, the last prince of the house of La Tour du Pin, had already, by treaties passed in 1343 and 1344, promised the Viennois, afterwards known as DauphinÉ, to Philippe, younger son of Philippe VI. Then the young Philippe had been made Duc d’OrlÉans instead, and the province was to go to Jean, but at last it was given to the heir of the Duke of Normandy, and from this time forth that province, with the title of Dauphin, was the inheritance of the eldest sons of France. To the Duc de Bourbon the King offered, instead of Humbert de la Tour du Pin, his own grandson, for a son-in-law; an exchange with which it is needless to say the Duke was well content. The treaty was signed at Lyon in July, 1349.

So Jeanne was, after all, to be Dauphine, but her husband, instead of a widower old enough to be her father, was to be a young prince of her own age and the future King of France.

They were married at Vincennes in the following year, on the 8th of April, 1350, both of them being about thirteen or fourteen years old. Of course they were not strangers to each other, for they were cousins, and had both been brought up at the court of their grandfather and uncle in Paris, and at that ancient castle in the deep shade of the forest, where generations of the children of France7 had been born, had played in childhood, grown to manhood or womanhood, ruled, loved, suffered and died. The love of the forest and of all beauty in nature and art lay deep in the heart of the young Dauphin, who in no way resembled his father or grandfather. That Philippe and Jean de Valois, the chivalrous King of Bohemia or the warlike Princes of Burgundy should have had such a descendant would surely have seemed impossible at that time and with those surroundings.

Charles had neither inherited the striking beauty nor the martial tastes of the Valois. He was a quiet, delicate lad, tall, pale, dark-eyed and rather timid. He cared very little for riding, and not at all for war and warlike pastimes, but delighted in study and literary pursuits. And he adored the Dauphine, whose bright beauty and charming character made her the idol of the court and country. The children had been attached to one another from the first, and as they grew older Charles, both as Dauphin and King, ever turned for sympathy, counsel, or consolation to Jeanne, whom he called “the light of his eyes and the sunshine of the kingdom.”

The plague had now abated, and people were beginning to recover from the fear and depression in which they had lately been living. The royal family had suffered severely. The Dauphin had lost his mother and grandmother; the two little princesses, sisters of himself and the Dauphine, were widows; the Queen of Navarre, whose daughter Blanche the King had just married, was also among the victims of the pestilence. However, for the present the plague was over, and those who had escaped now breathed freely and tried to console themselves in different ways for the calamities of the last two years. The Duke of Normandy was married just after his father to the widowed Comtesse d’Auvergne; there were fÊtes again at court, and things seemed to be returning to their usual state. The death of Philippe VI. came as a sudden shock in the midst of the general rejoicing; but then followed the coronation of the new King and Queen, which was celebrated with great magnificence. On the same day the King knighted his two eldest sons, the Dauphin, and Louis, afterwards Duc d’Anjou, his brother Philippe, Duc d’OrlÉans, his stepson Philippe, Duc de Bourgogne, his cousins the Comtes d’AlenÇon and d’Etampes, and other young nobles. The King and Queen left Reims on Monday evening and journeyed by Laon, Soissons, and Senlis to Paris, which they entered in state on Sunday, the 17th October, after vespers. The town was encourtinÉe, or hung with costly stuffs, the artisans were dressed each in the costume of their own trade, the citizens of the town in costumes like each other, the Lombards who lived in the city all wore long parti-coloured silk robes, and on their heads tall, pointed hats, parti-coloured like their dresses. “And they followed after each other as was ordered, some on horseback and some on foot, and before them went those playing music, to meet the King, who entered Paris with great joy.”8

The court remained at Paris till the feast of St. Martin in the winter, the time being spent partly in festivities and partly in business connected with parliament. On the accession of a new King all the judicial officers had to be re-invested9 or they were dÉsappointÉs; a word which became obsolete in French, was adopted by the English, and from them has been re-adopted by the French, but with a different signification.

“In 1352, on Monday the vigil of the Conception,” says the Monk of Saint Denis, “the King gave the duchy of Normandy to Monseigneur Charles, his eldest son, Dauphin de Vienne et Comte de Poitiers, and on the next day, Tuesday, the day of the feast of the Conception beforesaid, Monseigneur Charles did him homage for it, at the hostel of Maistre Martin de Mello, canon of Paris, of the cloister of Notre Dame.”

After which the Prince always called himself Duc de Normandie, greatly preferring the title to that of Dauphin.

The Dauphin and Dauphine lived chiefly at Vivier-en-Brie, a castle in the midst of the woods not far from Vincennes. This chÂteau had been given to the father of the Dauphin, now King, when he married his mother, Bonne de Luxembourg, by his grandfather, Philippe VI. Here the Dauphin afterwards founded a chantry or chapel with fourteen ecclesiastics to chant the offices and give opportunity to the officers who followed the court to perform their devotions.

Jean, who had been at war with the Spaniards, considering the constant strife which, with short intervals of imperfectly observed truce, was always going on between France and England, was naturally anxious to conclude a peace with the King of Spain, whose subjects were extremely desirous that he should marry a French princess. In 1352 a treaty was arranged between the two countries, in which this was one of the clauses; and it was decided that one of the daughters of the Duc de Bourbon should be selected. Nieces of the late King of France and sisters of the future Queen of that country, one of them would be a suitable wife for their young King. With some difficulty they induced him to consent, and a Spanish embassy was despatched to France to conclude the alliance.

The character of Pedro the Cruel was notorious, even for the lawless times in which he lived. His early friend the King of Navarre, though by no means scrupulous, afterwards abandoned his alliance in disgust; and although at this time he was not more than twenty years old, his crimes had already given him a reputation of which the Duc de Bourbon must have known quite well. But the King of France had set his heart upon this alliance, and had promised to give a dowry of three hundred thousand florins. Pedro was to settle various castles, towns, and estates upon the Princess, and the Duke, whose eldest daughter was to be Queen of France, was well contented to see the second Queen of Spain. For it was upon the Princess Blanche that the choice had fallen. As long as one of his girls wore the crown of Spain, the Duke did not care which it might be. He introduced the ambassador into the room where they all were, so that he might choose.10 And as Blanche, the eldest next to the Dauphine of France, seemed to him the most beautiful, he fixed upon her; and the marriage took place during the summer of that year.

Various entries appear among the accounts of the royal expenses for splendid presents and rich dresses purchased “for the marriage of her Majesty the Queen of Spain.” Blanche, then about fourteen or fifteen years old, went to Valladolid to meet her husband. She is said by contemporary historians to have been beautiful, gentle, and attractive, notwithstanding which her fate was one of the most tragic that ever befel a woman sacrificed to political expediency. The destinies of the French princesses who have married Kings of Spain have always seemed tinged with melancholy and gloom. The intolerable rigour of that etiquette which reduced the lives of the Spanish queens to a dignified slavery, the cruelty of the national amusements, the jealous tyranny and bigotry of many of the kings, must surely have made these young girls look back with regret and longing to the gay court and “plaisant pays de France.” Even when, as in other cases, the King, however bigoted, morose, or relentless in general, was really fond of his wife, the life of a Queen of Spain can scarcely have been a very cheerful one.

But Blanche de Bourbon was more than usually unfortunate. Pedro, who came to the throne before he was sixteen, began by putting to death various Spanish nobles and gentlemen, and also Eleanor de Guzman, his late father’s mistress, by whom that King had had several sons, and for whom the Queen and her son, the present King, had been slighted and neglected. He also murdered two or three of his natural brothers, and it was by the hand of one of those who escaped from his power that he met the due reward of his crimes.

The Queen-mother had urged Pedro to revenge her wrongs and his own upon Eleanor de Guzman; but when he began not only to imitate but far to surpass the faults of his father, by taking a Jewess named Maria de Padilla for his mistress, deserting his young wife three days after their marriage and keeping her a prisoner, his mother offered the most strenuous opposition to his conduct and warmly espoused the cause of the young Queen, her daughter-in-law. It was of no avail, however. Blanche was doomed to wear out her youth in captivity, in one Spanish castle after another, while Pedro carried on intrigues with various women, but remained chiefly under the influence of Maria de Padilla.

The cause of this iniquity has never been certainly known. Whether Pedro, having allowed himself to be persuaded into this marriage against his will, afterwards regretted it and took this way of revenging himself; whether he was, as it has been said actuated by an insane and perfectly groundless jealousy of his younger brother Don Federico, one of the sons of Eleanor de Guzman, whom he had sent to meet Blanche, and whom in a furious rage he stabbed to the heart; or whether it was simply owing to the baneful influence of his Jewish mistress, must remain doubtful. But the story of Blanche de Bourbon will always be considered one of the most pathetic tragedies which history records.

Her sisters were more fortunate. Bonne, the third daughter of the Duc de Bourbon, who had been married when almost a baby to the younger son of the Duc de Brabant and had shortly afterwards become a widow, was married in 1355 to Amadeo VI., Comte de Savoie, then about twenty-two years old. He had been betrothed to Jeanne de Bourgogne sister of the last CapÉtien Duke, Philippe de Navarre and then to Jeanne de Bourbon, now Dauphine elder sister of Bonne. At ten years old he had succeeded his father, Aimon,11 brother of that Comte de Savoie who married Blanche de Bourgogne and left no heirs male. Amadeo VI. was one of the greatest princes of his day, both as warrior and statesman. Bonne de Bourbon, Comtesse de Savoie, was, says an ancient writer, “an ornament to her century, and her goodness caused her to be admired on all occasions.” The wedding was celebrated at Paris in August, and the young Countess set off for Savoy, where she reigned for many years in prosperity and honour. Her life was chequered with many sorrows and also beset by many difficulties, which she surmounted with courage and capacity. As Regent of Savoy during the latter part of her life, she was held in high esteem. She died in the ChÂteau de MÂcon in 1402.

In September, 1356, came the disastrous battle of Poitiers. To Jeanne, as to everybody else in France, that must have been a time of fearful anxiety and suspense. Those nearest and dearest to her were with the army; and although the sight of the gallant host that followed the King in such splendid array to meet the enemy might well have filled the hearts of those they left behind with pride and confidence, there was still the remembrance of the time when Paris had waited in breathless expectation for news of Philippe de Valois and his chivalrous army while those who were not prisoners or scattered over the land lay dead on the field of CrÉcy.

And when tidings came of a defeat more terrible than the former—of the fall of the oriflamme, of the capture of the King and his youngest son by an enemy so inferior in numbers, Jeanne also heard of her father’s death on the field of battle. Pierre, Duc de Bourbon, had died like a brave soldier by the side of the King, whom he shielded from the blows aimed at him. But he had disregarded the commands of the Church, issued at the persuasion of his creditors, that he should pay his debts, and was therefore considered as an excommunicated person, to whom no one dared give Christian burial without permission.

His son and successor, Louis II., undertook to satisfy all claims, and his body was then removed from the convent of the Jacobins at Poitiers, where it had been carried after the battle, to that of the same religious order at Paris.

There the Duc de Bourbon was buried near his father, and his lands and honours passed to his son, known to history as “the good Duke, Louis de Bourbon.”