Tyranny of Duchess of Burgundy—Birth of Marie de France—Duchesse de Berry saves La RiviÈre—Doctor Hassely—King recovers—The masquerade—Dreadful fire—King ill—The sorcerers—King recovers—Dr. FrÉron—King ill again—Accusations against Louis and Valentine—Birth of Louis de France—Betrothal of Isabelle de France to Richard II. of England—Their marriage—Disastrous crusade—Marriage of Jeanne de France to Duc de Bretagne—Marie de France takes the veil.

The consternation of everybody and the confusion into which the kingdom fell can scarcely be imagined. The King was taken to Creil where he slowly improved, but was by no means fit to have anything to do with affairs; indeed for some time he only had partially lucid intervals, and was altogether much weakened.

The Queen was on the eve of her confinement, so the news of what had happened was obliged to be kept from her, in fact it was forbidden to be told her on pain of death.143 The Duke of Burgundy seized the government,144 to which he had no right, the Duc de Berry being his elder brother, and the Duc d’OrlÉans the nearest in blood to the King. But, as Sismondi remarks, the Duke of Burgundy was the least incapable of the three, and the people, who hated them all, made no opposition.

The Duchess of Burgundy established herself with the Queen on pretence of taking care of her, and remained there, dictating, meddling, and taking precedence of every one. A daughter was born to the Queen very soon afterwards, and as an offering for the restoration of the King, Isabeau, when she heard of the calamity, named the child Marie and dedicated her to religion.145

Meanwhile the court was in a ferment. The King’s uncles, directly they got the power into their own hands, began to persecute those of the party opposed to them.146 The Duchess of Burgundy, furious against Clisson for causing the King to go to war with the Duc de Bretagne, who was her cousin and great friend, incited her husband against him. Clisson fled from the country, so did several others, including the Seigneur de Noviant who had incurred the enmity of the Duke of Burgundy by refusing to give him thirty thousand crowns out of the treasury without the King’s knowledge.147 He and Bureau de la RiviÈre, who had been a most intimate friend of Charles V., were caught, thrown into the Bastille, and condemned to death. But, fortunately for the latter, the little Duchesse de Berry, whose marriage he had arranged, and whom he had himself fetched from the castle of Gaston de Foix, had ever since that time been exceedingly fond of him. When she heard that he was arrested and in danger of his life, with the Duke and Duchess of Burgundy resolved on his destruction, the Queen absolutely indifferent, and the King powerless to help him, she resolved to save him herself. She was then about fifteen years old, and she hurried to the Duc de Berry, threw herself on her knees before him crying and declaring that La RiviÈre was falsely accused, that no one dared speak for him but herself, that he had made her marriage, for which she was much obliged to him, that the duke ought to feel the same, that it would be the deepest ingratitude to desert him to whom they owed their happiness, and that if he were put to death she would never be happy again, but would spend every day “en tristesse et douleur.”148 The Duke, who adored her, comforted her and promised that his life should be spared. He went to the King who, though not recovered, was in a state sufficiently rational to be made to understand and give a command, and got from him the order for his pardon, in which the Seigneur de Noviant shared. They were exiled, but later on the Duchesse de Berry, of whom the King was very fond, got all their castles restored to them.149 The Duke and Duchess of Burgundy were furious, but they could do nothing.

The Seigneur de Coucy had a celebrated doctor, a certain Guillaume de Hassely,150 who at his recommendation was called in to the King, and so skilful was his treatment that Charles gradually improved, slept, ate, and drank as usual, went out hunting and hawking, and at last asked for the Queen and Dauphin, who were brought to him at Creil, where he received them with delight and affection. He was horrified to find he had killed and wounded several of his followers in his paroxysm. After a little he was allowed to see his brother and uncles, to whom Dr. Hassely said, “Thank God I restore you the King in good health; but he must not be irritated, worried, or troubled with state affairs. His head is not strong yet, but it will get stronger; meanwhile amusements and distractions are better for him than councils and work.” The Queen and Princes were anxious to keep Dr. Hassely at court, but he was an old man and could not bear the fatigue of that life. He retired to Laon, covered with honours and rewards, and died soon afterwards.151

The King’s uncles were very glad to persuade him that he was not well enough to do anything but amuse himself and had better leave the government in their hands. Charles inquired for various friends of his, and was told that they were traitors and in prison. He ordered them to be at once set free and their property restored, but had not strength and clearness of understanding to go more into the matter, and they were safer away from Paris. He sent after Clisson and tried to get him to return; but the Constable knew well enough that if the King had another attack he would fall into the hands of the Duke of Burgundy again, so he stayed away, keeping in communication with the Duc d’OrlÉans and his party, who were called “Marmousets” by the friends of the Dukes of Burgundy and Berry. Charles did not think about business at all; but only amused himself; and Isabeau, careless, apathetic, indifferent to everything but dress, luxury, pleasure, and amassing riches, for some time submitted to the domineering influence of the Duchess of Burgundy, which was vehemently resisted by the Duke and Duchess d’OrlÉans. Louis claimed the regency during the King’s incapacity to govern, and Valentine was indignant at the presumption of the Duchess of Burgundy in taking precedence over her, the wife of the King’s only brother and, as she imprudently remarked, possibly the future Queen of France.

The King was declared to be well again the following winter; he and the Queen came back and took up their abode at St. Paul, and the Court was once more in a whirl of gaiety.

There are various records of purchases made by Isabeau about this time; amongst others a gold goblet in the form of a rose, her favourite flower; pearls to ornament the collar of the Queen’s squirrel, a chaise À pignier or chair to have her hair dressed in, having a low back. Most chairs of that time had very high backs; they were made low for that purpose. Also some shoes for the Queen’s fool and her mother. And soon after it is stated that the Queen not having obtained money enough for divers things necessary and desired by her, would in future have her own “argentier” for herself and her children, by order of the King.

It was January, 1393. The King, delighted to be well again and eager to catch at any new prospect of amusement, was told by one of the gentlemen of his household named De Gensay, of a disguise he had planned whereby people were made to look like naked savages or wild men covered with long hair like that of wild beasts, which Paradin remarks was “chose plaisante À veoir.” These costumes were made of linen covered all over with tow, very long and combed out to look like hair from head to foot. They fitted tightly to the figure, and were stuck on “fort proprement,” as Paradin again remarks. De Gensay proposed that the masquerade should take place at the wedding festivities of one of the Queen’s ladies, who was a countrywoman and great favourite of hers. Now this lady had been married before, and at that time in France extreme licence was permitted at the re-marriage of a widow.152 Speeches, songs, dances, and general behaviour were alike improper to a degree that, even in those days, would not have been allowed on other occasions. The ball was to take place at a large house which belonged to Queen Blanche de Navarre. It stood at the corner of the rue de la Reine Blanche, and was called hÔtel de la Reine Blanche.153 When the King saw this preposterous disguise he was so delighted that he insisted on being one of the six who were to wear it, the others being the Comte de JoÜy, the Écuyer d’honneur de Gensay, the bastard De Foix, and the sons of the Comte de Valentinois and Seigneur de Nantoillet.

They all begged the King to give orders that at the ball at which they were to appear no light of any kind should be allowed to approach them on account of the inflammable nature of these absurd costumes. Charles accordingly sent a proclamation ordering all lights, torches, and flambeaux to retire behind and far from six savage men who were to enter the saloon where the ladies were. Unfortunately the Duc d’OrlÉans had not been told of the intended masquerade, of which indeed no one knew but those who were to take part in it, those who dressed them, and the Queen. The Duc d’OrlÉans arrived at the ball after the proclamation about the lights, and just then the six savages entered the room all fastened together with cords except the King, who led them. The novelty of this ridiculous spectacle was so successful that everybody crowded round to see them and try to find out who they were, and in their excitement forgot all about the order respecting the lights. The King left his companions fastened together, and, passing before the Queen, went up to the young Duchesse de Berry and began to make love to her (luy faisant infinies caresses). She caught hold of his hand, saying that she would not let him go until she knew who he was. Just at that moment the Duc d’OrlÉans, also desiring to find out who the mummers were, snatched a torch from one of his pages and held it down close to them so as to see better—the dry tow caught fire, in a moment they were all in flames and being fastened together, they could neither escape nor could any one help them. The Duchesse de Berry, when she saw the whole place on fire, threw her long robe round the King and so saved him. The Queen, seeing the flames, hearing the dreadful cries and tumult, and knowing that the King was one of the six, fell fainting with terror. The young De Nantoillet managed to unfasten himself from the others, and happening to remember a tank or cistern of water in one of the rooms of service close by, used for washing the plate, rushed into that room, threw himself into the tank, and was saved; of the rest, De Gensay (the inventor of the mummery) and Charles de Poitiers, son of the Comte de Valentinois, were burnt to death on the spot, and the other two only survived their injuries for two days. There was a general cry of “Save the King!” but the Duchesse de Berry, hastily exclaiming, “Go and change your clothes at once, the Queen is in terror about you,” had hurried him out of the ballroom. Isabeau was carried fainting to her room, where Charles, having pulled off the fatal disguise, hastened to reassure her. Every one was accusing and blaming the Duc d’OrlÉans, who, nearly beside himself with horror and remorse, and crying out that he had done it and it was all his fault, fled out of the ballroom and rushed up to the apartments of the King and Queen.154

The Dukes of Burgundy and Berry had left the ball before the arrival of the mummers, finding it rather late, and had returned to their own hÔtels. They knew nothing about what had happened until the next morning, when there was a great outcry all over Paris, and the report reached their ears that there had been a great fire after they had left the ball and that the King had been burnt to death with the others. Even after they had ascertained the truth the people would not believe it, but insisted on seeing the King for themselves, and it was not until he had gone in public procession with his brother and uncles to Notre Dame to give thanks for his safety, that they were pacified; and when they found out in what an idiotic way the King’s life had nearly been sacrificed they broke into denunciations of the goings on at court and threats against the princes of the blood. Some people even declared that Louis d’OrlÉans had done it on purpose, hoping to destroy the King and thus have the chance of succeeding himself if the Dauphin, who was delicate, did not live to grow up; which, by the by, would certainly have come to pass, for he died before he was ten years old. But there is not the slightest proof or even probability of the truth of this accusation. With all his faults Louis was not capable of so monstrous a crime as this, even supposing he had not been, as he always appears to have been, on affectionate terms with his brother.

The catastrophe excited the greatest horror in the minds of everybody except the tenants and people belonging to the Comte de JoÜy, who was so outrageously tyrannical and cruel that they were all delighted when they heard that they were so unexpectedly delivered from him.

The late calamity seems to have had a sobering effect upon the court, and for a little while after this shock things went on more quietly. But in June the King had a relapse, and this time he was worse, or at any rate the aggravated symptoms lasted longer. He did not recognise the Queen, and when she came near and spoke to him affectionately would ask who she was and even seemed to take a dislike to her, and told those surrounding him to take her away for he did not know what she wanted. He declared that he was not King, that his name was not Charles but George, that his arms were a lion pierced with a spear and not the fleur-de-lis, the very sight of which threw him into a rage, and which he would try to efface or tear out of tapestries, plate, or anything upon which they were. He declared he was not married and had no children, and the only person he knew was the Duchesse d’OrlÉans whom he insisted on seeing every day, and called “ma soeur bien-aimÉe.” People began, as usual, to talk about sorcery. Some said it was to witchcraft that Valentine owed her influence, others declared that the King’s illness came from his having been bewitched. Dr. Hassely was dead, and the Queen insisted on sending for a sorcerer to try and cure him. The sorcerer or wizard was, as the monk of St. Denis says, “coarse, brutal, and vulgar.” He had a magic book, which he said God had given to Adam, and by which he professed to be able to control the stars, so that if any planet had a malign influence on the King he could cause another to appear to counteract it. All the clergy, doctors, and professors were very angry and the sorcerer did no good; some said it was folly, others, that it was sin; there was a great outcry and he was got rid of. Then a learned doctor called FrÉron was called in, under whom Charles began to get better. All over the kingdom they had litanies, prayers, and processions followed by crowds of barefooted people; priests in splendid robes going from one church to another. The King said he would go too, and after persisting several times, he went to St. Denis with a great cortÈge of nobles, heard mass, where he behaved very well, “d’une maniÈre dÉcente et sans commettre aucune extravagance.”155 After dinner he went away, leaving the Bishop of Senlis to make a neuvaine for him. The Queen ordered them at many churches. In January, 1394, he was well again. Early in the same month the Princess Michelle was born.

In honour of her the King changed into “Porte Ste. Michelle” the name of the “Porte de l’Enfer” so called on account of the haunted convent of the Chartreux of Vauvert just outside it, with its weird tales of moving lights, unearthly sounds, and phantoms, spoken of in the former volume treating of the Valois Queens. The Hundred Years’ War with England still dragged on, and brigands again began to infest the country, and great distress prevailed; to the alleviation of which Charles now turned his attention for a short time. For Dr. FrÉron, either finding that the treatment ordered by his predecessor had been carried much too far, or else because he thought quiet, and rational occupation with the affairs of the State would do the King more good than the ceaseless, reckless, dissipation,156 which was the original cause of his illness, ordered him a tranquil life, occupation for his mind, rest, and various other changes which certainly appeared to succeed; for the King was quite restored under his care, and as well as he had been before his first seizure. No one could now say that he was not capable of giving proper orders, nor dispute the validity of those he gave, as the Duke of Burgundy had done when the King had granted some permissions to hunt in the royal forests.

Charles went several pilgrimages and, his own sufferings having made him more compassionate to others, he recalled fugitives chased away by the tyranny of his uncles, exempted them from taxation for six years, and, abolishing the games of chance in the villages, he established practice in shooting with the bow and crossbow, in order that the peasants should be able to help defend the country which now was obliged to hire mercenaries to oppose the English archers. The people were delighted at this, and already, says M. Sismondi, becoming so skilful that the nobles in alarm took the first opportunity of putting a stop to the archery and re-opening the gambling houses. The remembrance of the Jacquerie was naturally in the minds of the French gentlemen as was that of their tyranny in the hearts of the people. That unfortunate class hatred between the upper and lower ranks which, as was remarked in our former volume, had caused the disgrace and downfall of France, was still growing and establishing itself as time passed on, while other nations were slowly becoming stronger and more closely united to their own countrymen as they advanced in civilisation.

The King went on very well until about the middle of the summer of 1395, by which time he had grown very tired of the restraints imposed on him by Dr. FrÉron, the trouble of attending to serious affairs, and the comparative dulness of his court. Also it is probable that the symptoms of the terrible malady so long kept at bay by the skill of the great doctor were making themselves felt and deprived him of the little self-control and sense he had ever had. At any rate he dismissed Dr. FrÉron, who retired with his property to Cambrai,157 and when he had gone the frenzy returned and Charles was again mad.

It had been a bad summer, with violent winds, doing much damage. Misfortunes and troubles seemed to be gathering again over France. The deepest disappointment was felt by high and low at the relapse of the King, confusion and misgovernment began again, the air was full of evil rumours and terrors as it had been in the years before the battles of CrÉcy and Poitiers. It was reported that in Languedoc had been seen a great star, followed by five little ones which seemed to attack it for about the space of half an hour, while voices and dreadful cries were heard in the heavens; and there appeared the gigantic form of a man who shone like copper, transfixed the great star with a spear and vanished.

In Guyenne unearthly voices were heard in the air, accompanied by the clang of armour and the tramp of combatants.158

The court was rent by the quarrels of the Queen and Duchesse d’OrlÉans with the Duchess of Burgundy, whom neither of them could bear, and whose interference Isabeau was now roused up to resist. In fact, the arrogance and encroachments of the Burgundian party had become alike intolerable and alarming. The state of the King from this time grew gradually worse. He was not always mad, but his attacks grew more frequent, lasted longer, and took different forms on different occasions. Sometimes even in the middle of them he would have lucid intervals in which his commands were absolutely obeyed. After a period of sanity and health, he could tell by the symptoms when the attack was coming on again, and would desire that all arms, knives, &c., should be taken out of his reach, and sometimes that he should be forcibly restrained lest he should hurt any one. He begged every one he knew, if they had bewitched him, as some said, to have pity upon him and reverse the spell. The whole state of things was heartbreaking, and when he was mad he did not know the Queen, it was not safe for her to go near him, he struck at her and ran after her so that she fled in terror. Sometimes he knew every one except the Queen and her children, but one person he always knew, and that was the Duchesse d’OrlÉans.

He was always calling for her. She would go to him without the least fear and sit with him for hours. Her voice seemed to have a strange fascination for him, and he would do anything she wished. There is not the slightest idea that between Charles and Valentine there was ever any such love as between Louis and Isabeau, but they had always been fond of each other as brother and sister. The populace, however, chose to attribute her influence to magic; they said she came from Lombardy, where it was practised to a great extent; that her father himself was a magician, and that it was from no devotional reasons that the Duc d’OrlÉans went so often to the CÉlÉstins, but to see one of the brotherhood, a certain Philippe de MeziÈre, looked upon with suspicion on account of his studies, who had been a great friend of the late King. Louis d’OrlÉans would sit up half the night talking with him about books, music, or metaphysical subjects. He was a strange mixture of the most opposite qualities and vices, and he added to the inconsistencies of his character that of being extremely devotional. In all intellectual tastes he and Valentine suited each other very well; as to Isabeau, she knew nothing about such matters. There is a record of an historical manuscript which the Duke of Burgundy gave her, probably with the hope of inducing her to take more interest in literary subjects, but it was of no use.159

The injurious reports concerning Louis and Valentine were diligently circulated by the Burgundian party. She was said, and by many believed, to have bewitched the King. The monk of St. Denis remarks, “Pour moi, je mis loin de partager l’opinion vulgaire au sujet des sortilÈges, opinion repandue par les sots, les nÉcromanciers, et les gens superstitieux; les mÉdecins et les thÉologiens s’accordent À dire que les malÉfices n’ont aucune puissance, et que la maladie du roi provenait des excÉs de sa jeunesse.”160

Things, however, came to a climax at last when Valentine was accused of attempting to poison the Dauphin in order to open the way to the throne for her husband and children. The story was that one day when the children of the King and the Duc d’OrlÉans were playing together in the apartments of Valentine some one had thrown an apple amongst them close to the Dauphin, who was about to pick it up, but that one of the children of the Duc d’OrlÉans got it, bit a piece out, was taken ill, and died in a few days, the apple being poisoned. The only thing that is certainly true about this story is that a little son of Louis and Valentine did die about this time; but whether he ate an apple shortly before his death, whether it was thrown among the children when at play, or whether there was any reason for attributing his death to such a cause does not seem to have been shown. It does not appear that there was a shadow of probability about it, but that it was nothing more than a spiteful calumny got up by the Burgundian party and believed by the fierce and credulous Parisian mob. However, there was a great outcry: the Dauphin was not allowed to go to the apartments of the Duchesse d’OrlÉans, and the Duc d’OrlÉans and his friends thought Valentine would be safer out of Paris for the present. Therefore she left that city with her children in great pomp for Blois, where she remained for a time till the storm blew over.

Her father, the Duke of Milan, was furious when he heard of these accusations against his daughter and himself, for he was also said to have bewitched the King, to have asked the French ambassador how he was, and on being told “well,” to have exclaimed, “You tell me a diabolic thing, and one that is impossible.161 The King cannot be well”—clearly pointing either to sorcery or secret poisoning. He offered to send a champion to fight to the death any man who accused his daughter, and threatened to invade France.

In January, 1396, the Queen gave birth to a son, who was named Louis, and in February the King recovered his senses. It had been arranged that the little Princess Isabella, eldest daughter of Charles and Isabeau, should be married to Richard II., King of England, instead of to the son of the Duc de Bretagne, to whom she had at first been betrothed. Richard was thirty years old and a widower, but it was felt that the splendour and advantages of such an alliance as this, not only for the Princess, but still more for France, were not to be lost. The English ambassadors, therefore, when in 1395 they came to Paris, where the King was at that time living at the Louvre, and the Queen and her children at the hÔtel St. Paul, were received with great honour and favour, and having paid their respects to the Queen, they turned to the Princess Isabelle. The Marshal of England knelt before her saying, “Madame, s’il plaÎt À Dieu, vous serez notre dame et Reine d’Angleterre.” To which the pretty, graceful child, who was only about seven years old, replied, “Sire s’il plaÎt À Dieu et À monseigneur mon pÈre, je le serai volontiers; car on m’a bien dit que je serais une grande dame.” Then giving him her hand she raised him and led him to her mother.162

The ambassadors were enchanted with the little princess, who was the especial darling of her parents and the whole Court. All the daughters of Charles and Isabeau seem to have been remarkable for good looks and charm, and very superior to their sons. The second one, Jeanne, was promised to the son of the Duc de Bretagne instead, and the marriage of Isabelle took place in October, 1397.

Magnificent preparations were of course made beforehand for the wedding of the eldest daughter of the Valois with the great enemy of her country, by which it was hoped to close the Hundred Years’ War and restore prosperity to France. The King sent for the most skilful jewellers and ordered for her a profusion of rings, bracelets, necklaces, chains, and all kinds of jewels of great price, cloth of gold and other costly stuffs, covered chariots, saddles and bridles covered with gold and silver. He was fortunately quite well, and sane just then, so that he was able to attend his daughter’s wedding. He went with the Queen, princes, and court to meet the King of England between Calais and Ardres, where the French and English camps were pitched near each other, the French one containing a hundred and twenty tents surrounded by a palisade, and in front a large tent like a great hall, more magnificent than the rest, over which floated the lilies of France.

The English camp contained the same number of tents, but the one that stood in front of it, with the standard bearing the leopards of England, was like a vast round tower.

The most stringent regulations were proclaimed in both camps to avoid the slightest danger of any disputes arising to endanger the harmony of the meeting on which hung the peace and welfare of two kingdoms.

None but the immediate escorts were to be armed; it was forbidden to throw stones, pick quarrels, or play any game that could lead to them, and the conferences went on amicably for several days, being disturbed only by a violent storm which tore up many tents in the French camp, tearing the silk lining of them to shreds, while only four of the English tents suffered. Torrents of rain fell, and superstitious fears were entertained that some calamity was about to happen. “But,” says the worthy chronicler of St. Denis, “on learning the result of the conference, they rather thought the enemy of the repose of mankind who dwells among the shades of darkness had thus given vent to his fury because he had not been able to throw any obstacle in the way of peace.”163

The young Queen, who had been married by proxy to Richard in Paris, set off for St. Denis with great pomp, where she performed her devotions according to the ancient custom, and then continued her journey.

The King of England had been dining with the King of France, waited upon by the Dukes of Burgundy, Berry, and Bourbon, both monarchs having been much entertained by the amusing conversation of the last-mentioned prince, when the sound of trumpets and other music announced the approach of the young Queen of England, who entered the camp with a procession of surpassing magnificence, wearing royal robes covered with fleurs-de-lis, a gentleman of her train carrying a crown of gold before her carriage. The Duchesses of Lancaster and Gloucester came forward to pay their homage, and the Dukes of Burgundy, Berry, and OrlÉans advanced, and one of them taking her in his arms carried her to her father, who led her by the hand to the King of England, saying, “Mon fils, voici ma fille que je vous avais promise, je vous la laisse, en vous priant de l’aimer dÉsormais comme votre femme.” Richard II. was a most imposing personage. To the stately bearing of the Plantagenets he united the far-famed beauty of his mother, the Fair Maid of Kent. As the little Queen bent before him he raised her up and kissed her, after which he took his leave.164 She was placed in a splendid litter in which she was to proceed to her husband’s town of Calais, accompanied by the Duchesses of Lancaster, York, Gloucester, and other great English ladies, with the Dame de Coucy, who was to go with her to England. She began to cry and sob at parting from her father and uncles; Charles VI., who was extremely fond of her, cried too, and the Dukes also shed tears.165 The King and Queen were married again at the Church of St. Nicolas at Calais, and the day after that embarked for England. Before going on board ship, finding that her French attendants were to be dismissed, the poor little thing began to cry again, and begged King Richard to let them go with her, to which he at once consented, so they accompanied her to England.166

An expedition had been for some time in preparation to assist Sigismond, King of Hungary, against the Turks under Bajazet, who had invaded Europe and threatened to push on to Rome and feed his horse upon the high altar of St. Peter. The troop consisted of a thousand men, amongst whom were many young cavaliers of the noblest houses in France, led by Jean, Comte de Nevers, eldest son of the Duke of Burgundy, then about twenty-two years old. The troop was splendidly equipped, Philippe of Burgundy having by means of heavy taxes on his vassals collected a great sum of money with which, had he spent it rationally, he could have put an army into the field. The troop had set forth in March, and the luxury and extravagance of the French nobles astonished their Hungarian and German allies. Their tents were of green satin, their banners and the trappings of their horses were covered with gold and silver, their armour, dresses, and plate were magnificent. They marched across Germany and joined their allies at Buda-Pesth. The army then marched along the banks of the Danube, upon which great barges accompanied them loaded with choice wines and delicacies for the French.167

But evil rumours began to be afloat after some time regarding the expedition, and the chroniclers of the time relate various supernatural occurrences which filled with terror the superstitious minds of the people. The garrisons of various fortresses in Guyenne were awakened in the night by the clash of arms. Fearing a surprise, they seized their weapons, and beheld a battle fought in the air by phantoms in the forms of cavaliers in armour, which filled them with dread. They sent messengers to inform the King, the court, and the university of these prodigies, which seemed to portend divers calamities. “For my part,” remarks the monk of St. Denis, “I leave the secret of all these supernatural events to Him who knows all and who commands the heavens, the earth, and the sea.”168

But on Christmas night, 1396, when the King and all the court were assembled in the hÔtel St. Paul,169 one Jacques de Helly entered the hall in boots, spurs, and all the disorder of a hasty journey, and throwing himself on his knees before the King, told him of the disastrous defeat of the French by Bajazet and the massacre or captivity of the whole troop. It appeared that the French, furious at being obliged to raise the siege of Nicopolis, had murdered in cold blood and in violation of their plighted word all their prisoners who had surrendered on parole, and that Bajazet, enraged at their treachery, had naturally retaliated, and having by overwhelming numbers defeated them and killed four hundred, had taken prisoners the Comte de Nevers and about three hundred others. He had ordered them all to be beheaded except twenty-eight of the highest rank, for whom he could exact enormous ransoms, and among whom of course was the Comte de Nevers. It was to obtain these ransoms, that Jacques de Helly had been sent. It then appeared that some unfortunate fugitives had already come with the tidings, but had been shut up in the ChÂtelet to prevent the news being disclosed, with threats of being drowned if they told it. History certainly repeats itself.

However, no amount of lies would now avail to make the Parisians think a defeat was a victory, besides which it was necessary again to wring money from the people to pay the ransoms.

This misfortune had such an effect upon the King, that instead of his being all right until the summer as before, an attack of madness came on early in the spring, to cure which Marshal de Sancerre sent from Languedoc two Augustine monks, who had the reputation of being magicians. This was, of course, in direct opposition to the rules of the Church, but the clergy did not exactly like to prevent their endeavours; they contented themselves with murmuring that it would be much better to burn them as wizards than to offer them rewards. In July the King recovered his reason, for which the monks imprudently took the credit, forgetting what would be likely to befall them should he have a relapse.

The second daughter of Charles and Isabeau, the Princess Jeanne, was married to the son of the Duc de Bretagne; and the third, the Princess Marie, who had been dedicated from her infancy to the religious life, was now received into the convent of Poissy.

On the day of the Nativity of the Virgin, the King and Queen, with a brilliant company, arrived at Poissy. There was a grand procession, the Bishop of Bayeux bearing a splendid jewel presented by the King, who with the Queen and a brilliant cortÈge of nobles and ladies formed part of the procession, the Sire d’Albret carrying in his arms the Princess Marie, who wore a gold crown and long robe and mantle of cloth of gold, and whom he placed before the chapter, where the spiritual director of the convent addressed the novice, who, it must be remembered, was not yet five years old, and explained to her the rules of the order and the vow of poverty, chastity, and obedience, to which the child “answered humbly that she submitted herself.” The Prioress, who was a sister of the Duc de Bourbon, and had taken the veil at this convent at about the age of the Princess Marie, then dressed her in the habit of the order, after which she was conducted to the church by all the nuns, singing hymns to the Holy Spirit. After mass she received the episcopal benediction, and then there was a splendid banquet given by the King. At the close of the proceedings a dispute arose between the Prioress and the Abbot and monks of St. Denis respecting the crown worn by the little princess which was of gold set with jewels of great price, and which, with the robes, jewels, &c., worn by her, the Prioress claimed according, as she said, to the usual custom, for the convent. But it appeared that this crown belonged to the abbey of St. Denis, and had been only lent for the occasion; therefore the monks would by no means give it up. The King, being appealed to, declared the crown had been borrowed by his orders, and settled the matter by paying the convent 600 gold crowns to redeem it, and sending it back to St. Denis.170

The King and Queen arranged the household of the young princess, appointing certain nuns to be her ladies, and then returned to Paris.