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.

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 affection102; 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.

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 said104 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

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.

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. Jarry116 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 Phoebus 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