Riots led by Burgundy—The Duc d’Aquitaine’s ball—His quarrels with Burgundy—The Comte de Charolais—Battle of Azincourt—Death of Aquitaine—The Dauphin Jean—His court—His death—Imprisonment of the Queen—Jean Sans-peur rescues her—Enters Paris by night—Massacre of Armagnacs—The Dauphin Charles—Murder of Jean Sans-peur—Marriage of Catherine de France to Henry V.—Departure for England—Birth of a son—Return to Paris—Festivities—Death of Henry V.—Death of Charles VI.—Retirement of the Queen—Henry VI. enters Paris—Treaty of Arras—Death of Isabeau.

It was May, 1413, the court was at Saint Paul. The King had just recovered from one of his attacks. Every one had been, dressed in white hoods, to Notre Dame to give thanks, and now the important event was the wedding to be celebrated on the following day between the Queen’s brother, Duke Ludwig of Bavaria, and Catherine d’AlenÇon, widow of Pierre de Navarre, Comte de Mortaigne.

There had been a good deal of uneasiness in the air for some time and the war with England was going on. When peace was made between Burgundians and Armagnacs, the latter were obliged to break their alliance with the English king, whose troops under his second son, the Duke of Clarence, had ever since been ravaging Normandy, Picardy, and Maine, notwithstanding that the little Comte d’AngoulÊme, the youngest of the OrlÉans princes, had been given them as a hostage. They were also attacking some of the southern parts of France, and swore they would regain the duchy of Aquitaine, their ancient patrimony. Two months ago Henry IV. had died, and the Prince of Wales, now Henry V., hitherto remarkable chiefly for his fast, disorderly, somewhat scandalous life, seemed likely to be a powerful and dangerous enemy. The populace of Paris were deeply discontented, as well they might be, for it was openly declared that the expenses of the King’s household, which used to be 94,000 francs were now 450,000, and yet the tradesmen were not paid; that although the allowance for the King and Queen’s alms went on, scarcely any alms were ever given; that some of the royal servants and officers received enormous salaries, while others could never get any wages paid at all; and that, in spite of the sums allowed for the repair of the King’s castles and palaces, they were in such a state that they would soon fall into ruins.

The Duke of Burgundy had his own reasons for wishing to stir up the people. He was afraid of certain transactions by which he had got hold of a large sum of money being made known by Pierre des Essarts, provost of Paris, who held his receipts for them, and now belonged to the OrlÉanists; he was uneasy about the power and favour of that party and the estrangement of the Duc d’Aquitaine, who disliked him because he was so overbearing and disagreeable.

The Duc d’Aquitaine had been warned that an attack upon the hÔtel St. Paul was intended, and advised to arm his household, raise the banner with the fleur-de-lis over the entrance and defend himself. But while he was deliberating with the other princes, instead of taking immediate action, as any of his forefathers would have done, a dreadful noise began to be heard, and a shouting, howling, desperate mob was seen to be rushing down the streets towards the hÔtel St. Paul. They surrounded that palace, planted the standard of the city, and with loud cries and threats demanded to speak to the Duc d’Aquitaine.

Among the chief characteristics that distinguish the history of France from that of any other Christian or civilised nation are the furious, credulous, ferocious mobs, whose atrocious deeds continually appear in her annals, and who seem to belong to no particular century; for whether we see them murdering nobles and gentlemen with their wives and children in the fourteenth century, Huguenots in the sixteenth, waggon loads of women, young girls, and little children in the eighteenth—or priests and unarmed hostages in the nineteenth, whether they are called Jacques, or Leaguers, or Septembriseurs, or Communists—they evidently do not excite either abhorrence or shame in the minds of the great mass of their countrymen who have just raised a statue in Paris in honour of one of the most bloodthirsty of the wretches who acted as their leader in the perpetration of those cowardly and brutal crimes against which the rest of civilised humanity revolts.

One of these mobs, not a whit more cruel and savage than those which yelled and howled and danced through the streets of Paris in our own and our fathers’ and grandfathers’ days, was now pressing round the hÔtel of the Duc d’Aquitaine at Saint Paul. They had certainly much reason for their anger and complaints, but whether their cause is a bad or a good one the means by which they carry it out are always atrocious. On this occasion they put forward a Carmelite monk called Eustace, who gave a harangue on the calamities, bad government, and generally disastrous state of things. The Duke of Burgundy came down, said the King was only just recovered and could not bear this agitation, and advised them to go away. But they clamoured for the Duc d’Aquitaine, who, terrified by the tumult and urged by the Duke of Burgundy, appeared at a window and promised all they asked.

One of their leaders, named Jean de Troyes, then imposed silence, and in a speech received with enthusiastic applause by the people and with scarcely concealed indignation by the nobles, declared that they would do no harm to the Duc d’Aquitaine, but demanded that his evil counsellors should be given up to them; and on his chancellor imprudently asking to whom they referred handed up a list of fifty names, including not only the principal gentlemen of his household, but Ludwig of Bavaria, the Queen’s brother, Edouard, Duc de Bar, cousin of the King, and several of the Queen’s ladies. The princes could not pacify them, the Queen wept and raved, the King remonstrated in vain; the Duc d’Aquitaine, turning with a furious look to the Duke of Burgundy, exclaimed, “Father-in-law, this outrage is your doing, for the leaders of it are the people of your house. Know surely that the day will come when you shall repent of it, for things will not always go on according to your pleasure.”

Some of the nobles and ladies came down and gave themselves up, the others were seized by the mob, who broke into the palace and hunted all over the rooms and galleries to find them, tearing one gentleman out of the arms of the Duchesse d’Aquitaine, who tried to protect him. They were carried away on horseback and shut up, some in the Palais, some in the Louvre.

When they were gone, the King went to dinner and the Duc d’Aquitaine retired with the Queen into her room, where they shut themselves up and cried.

Something, however, had to be done, so they sent the Comte de Vertus, who escaped to his brother, the Duc d’OrlÉans, told him what had happened, and how some of the princes were in prison, and the King, Queen, and Duc d’Aquitaine like prisoners in the hands of the Parisians, and desired the rest of the princes to make haste to come and deliver them.

The King of Sicily, the Ducs d’OrlÉans, Bourbon, and Bretagne, the Comtes de Vertus and AlenÇon accordingly assembled at Vernon, and sent a message to the populace that unless the prisoners were immediately set free they would put all Paris to fire and sword. The Duke of Burgundy saw he had gone too far, having infuriated the Duc d’Aquitaine and set all the princes against him, the University of Paris hastened to disassociate herself with the riots, and the chief bourgeois, frightened at what had been done tried by all means and with many apologies, to divert and appease the anger of the royal family. The city was still very unquiet, frÈre Eustache went on preaching against Aquitaine, saying that the licentiousness and debauchery of such a life as he was leading had already caused the madness of his father and the death of his uncle, and that it would be better to declare his brother, Jean de Touraine, the heir of France; while one LÉon de Jacqueville forced his way into the ballroom of his hÔtel one night in the middle of a ball and loudly declaimed against him, saying that he dishonoured his rank. The Duke struck him three times with his dagger, but his cuirass saved him. The ballroom was a scene of confusion, the mob rushed to attack the hÔtel and were only stopped by the opportune arrival of the Duke of Burgundy, who dispersed them. The Duc d’Aquitaine was so agitated by the scene that he spit blood for days afterwards.247

Burgundy, however, saw that he was rapidly losing friends, and thought it well to send his son, the Comte de Charolais, away. That young prince, therefore, with his wife, the Princess Michelle, set off for Gand, accompanied as far as Lendit by a great body of the bourgeois of Paris of whom she took leave affectionately, begging them to deliver her uncle, the Duke of Bavaria, and then she proceeded to St. Denis with her husband, after which they went with a brilliant train to Gand.248

While all these commotions were going on the English made a descent upon the county of Eu, sacked and burnt TrÉport and several other towns, took to their ships and sailed for England with their plunder. The Armagnacs were devastating the country, and the Parisians more and more terrified at the threats of the princes. Their party grew stronger and stronger, the King ordered the Duc d’Aquitaine to go and liberate the prisoners, which he did, riding to the Palais and the Louvre and bringing them all away with him except the ladies, who had been liberated soon after they were taken, and two or three gentlemen who had been killed in the riots. Bells rang, feasting went on, the rioters were either seized and punished or else fled, and the princes entered Paris in triumph.249

The Duc d’Aquitaine ordered all the favourites of Burgundy to be seized, one only was spared at the entreaty of the Duchesse d’Aquitaine, the rest were arrested or fled. Jean Sans-peur himself, warned that the streets round the hÔtel d’Artois were being watched by night by the OrlÉanists who were crowding into Paris to join the Duc d’Aquitaine, fled from a hunting party with one gentleman only, rode at full speed in doubt and fear through the forest of Bondy, and next day meeting one of his followers with a band of men-at-arms pursued his journey safely to Flanders.

For a little while the Armagnacs were triumphant. The marriage of the Duke of Bavaria took place, and what was more important, Charles, Comte de Ponthieu, youngest son of the King, was betrothed to Marie d’Anjou, daughter of the King of Sicily, at the Louvre in presence of the Queen and Princes, the King being ill at the time.

There was also a talk of marrying the Princess Catherine, youngest daughter of the King and Queen, to Henry V. of England.

In February of 1414, with bitterly cold winds appeared a disease that seems just like the modern influenza. It was attended by cold, cough, loss of appetite, violent pains in the head and general languour. It attacked all classes; judges and lawyers had to suspend their courts, the malady spread and was very dangerous.

A foolish step of the Queen’s had just re-opened the routs and quarrels that always seemed now to rage amongst the royal family. There were certain gentlemen in the household of her son, the Duc d’Aquitaine, whom she distrusted because they had been placed there by his father-in-law, and she wished to remove them. She was just then living at the hÔtel St. Paul, and the Duchesse d’Aquitaine with her; the Duke was at the Louvre. Having consulted with the Armagnac chiefs, who were silly enough to countenance her plans, she went suddenly to the Louvre taking the Duchess with her, seized Jean de Croy, and three other officers of her son’s household, and threw them into prison. The Duc d’Aquitaine, who liked them, flew into a great rage and the princes could hardly prevent him from rushing out to appeal to the mob, and could not stop him from writing secretly to the Duke of Burgundy to come back.

With two such people as Isabeau and her son what could be done? Jean Sans-peur set off at once with a body of troops—but before he could arrive Isabeau and the princes had contrived to pacify the Duc d’Aquitaine and persuade him to contradict everything he had said, and write to the fortified towns proclaiming the Duke of Burgundy an enemy of the King. Infuriated by this treatment, the Duke of Burgundy produced and displayed his son-in-law’s letters, and continued his march towards Paris, the civil war beginning again with much cruelty and slaughter.

The domestic quarrels of the royal family were worse than ever. The old Duc de Berry disputed the regency during the King’s frequent attacks, with the Duc d’Aquitaine, just as he and his brother had done with Louis d’OrlÉans, and on the same pretence, his youth and inexperience. Aquitaine was at daggers drawn with his father-in-law, and so far justified his great-uncle’s assertions that besides possessing all the faults of his uncle, Louis d’OrlÉans and his father, he had no taste for military affairs, no attraction or charm, though he was rather good-looking. He was exceedingly unpopular, hated appearing in public, and shut himself up all day (when he was not in bed) playing the harp and Épinette with his musical friends. If the King gave him any business to do he neglected it, and was so ill-tempered that he could not bear to be found the least fault with. Music, horses, and dissipation were all he cared for. He had now separated from his wife and reduced her household to a very low estate; he had always disliked her. Historians say that she gave no cause whatever for complaint, but that people made mischief between them.250 The Duke of Burgundy sent a message requiring him to dismiss La Cassinelle and take his wife back, which only made him more angry. He had removed her from his mother’s care and sent her to St. Germain-en-Laye,251 also seizing some treasure kept by Isabeau at the houses of confidential agents, taking advantage of the illness of the King his father to do as he chose. This was the beginning of the Queen’s dislike for Armagnac, who was mixed up in the affair, and her inclining towards the Burgundian party.

In March, 1415, the Emperor of Germany paid a visit to the French Court, where he was entertained with the usual lavish profusion. He, in return, gave a great banquet at the Louvre to the ladies of the court and bourgeoises of Paris, “and to each one was laid a German knife, and the strongest wine that could be got. And everything was so spiced they could hardly eat it. There were many minstrels, and after dinner they danced and some sang. And when they left to each was given a gold ring, which, however was not of much value.”252

When the summer came round the truce with England expired. English troops from Calais and other places began to attack the French provinces, and it was rumoured that King Henry was gathering a great host at Southampton to invade France.

It was nearly sixty years since the battle of Poitiers, and seventy since that of CrÉcy, and there were old people alive who could remember the confusion, dismay, and terror of that time. The Duc de Berry had himself been in the battle of Poitiers, from which he had fled; while the Duke of Burgundy, then a boy of thirteen, had fought to the last beside their father, King Jean, and been carried prisoner with him to England.

Times were still more disastrous now. With a mad King, a worthless heir-apparent, and a number of princes of the blood without either capacity or conduct, there were no leaders whom the people could trust or love, or whom they would follow and die for as their fathers and grandfathers did for Philippe de Valois, King Jean, the Duc de Bourbon, the gallant Princes of Navarre, the heroic King of Bohemia, or the noble chiefs of the CapÉtienne house of Burgundy.

However, it was necessary to make preparations. Enormous taxes were levied in haste, and everywhere bands of soldiers were hurrying up to join the army, and plundering the villages on their way. What the tax collectors left they carried off, and the people in terror and despair left their homes and hid in the woods, longing only that the campaign might be over, whichever side won.253 Charles d’Albret was appointed commander-in-chief, and all the highest commands were given to Armagnacs. Jean Sans-peur took no post in the army at all, and forbade the Comte de Charolais to join; being, besides politically hostile, resolved not to risk his only son as had been done to their cost by the former house of Burgundy.

Early in August the English fleet sailed from Southampton, and sixteen hundred ships entered the Seine, passed up between Honfleur and Harfleur, and landed the troops, who proceeded to invest the latter town, which was an important commercial place and the key of Normandy, being a strong fortress surrounded with deep moats and massive walls and towers.254 It was bravely defended, but as no help came from the French army which was slowly gathering at Vernon, the town surrendered on September 22nd.

King Henry repaired, provisioned, and garrisoned the place, and then began his victorious march through France. Charles, who just then was in his right mind, came to Rouen with the Duc d’Aquitaine and the rest of the princes in October, and at a hurried council it was decided that a battle must be fought, but that the King and his son should not be present for fear of a calamity such as befel King Jean at Poitiers. All over France the nobles were summoned to join the royal standard with their vassals, but the princes were stupid enough to refuse a body of six thousand armed men offered by the city of Paris whose services they disdained. The Comte de Charolais, who knew there was going to be a battle but did not know when, was wild to get away and join the army. His tutors, however, had been warned by the terrible Duke of Burgundy that he made them responsible for his not doing so, and they were at their wits’ end what to do. They did not like to tell the young Philippe, lest he should find some way of circumventing them, and when a summons arrived for him from the Constable d’Albret, he declared he would go. He was then at Arras, and in much perplexity they pretended to consent, and leaving that city got him to the castle of Aire, where the Constable again sent several seigneurs and Montjoye, King-at-arms, to fetch him. As long as they could the distracted tutors put off his departure, carefully concealing from him the time when the battle was to take place, but most of his people kept escaping secretly to go to the front, and at last they were obliged to tell him, to appease his anger, of his father’s orders, which he dared not disobey but retired to his room in despair and shut himself up there crying. (“Moult fort pleurant.”)255

The King of England desired to cross by the ford of Blanchetache, where his great-grandfather, Edward III., had passed over the river seventy years ago, but the place was too strongly guarded, so he marched along the bank for some distance and came up with the French army which was waiting for him at a place enclosed with little woods between the villages of Rousseauville and Azincourt. It was Thursday, October 24th, about the hour of vespers, when the two armies confronted each other. Philippe, Comte de Nevers, and several young nobles had just been knighted by the hand of Boucicault, Marshal of France. The Constable had arrived with the royal banner, the Oriflamme.256 Around it rose the banners of the princes, barons, and chevaliers with their followers who had flocked to the standard of France. Great fires were lighted, for the night was cold; a drizzling rain had begun to fall, and they were waiting for the English army which must pass on its way to Calais.

The English were hungry and tired with their long march, but they came up with the sound of trumpets and martial music, and the heavy tramp of horses and armed men, so that the earth seemed to tremble with the echo. Silently and composedly they took up their perilous position, well aware of the danger which lay before them, for the French host outnumbered them by at least three to one, and had a much larger proportion of cavalry. But they thought of CrÉcy and Poitiers, passed the night in attending to their horses, bows, and armour, and prepared for death by confessing their sins, and receiving the Sacrament of the Body of Christ.257

The French had scarcely any musical instruments to rejoice their spirits, and their horses did not neigh, but made scarcely a sound all night, which many considered an evil omen. The rain and mud and cold depressed their spirits which sank lower as they, too, remembered CrÉcy and Poitiers. All night they were calling to each other in the darkness, and many who had been at enmity made friends again, forgave each other, embraced, and drank out of the same cup, as they thought that perhaps they were about to see the dawn of their last day.258

Still, when morning broke and they saw their own great superiority in numbers and strength, they gathered confidence, and thought indeed that the English army could not escape them. And between nine and ten they advanced to battle, bending their heads so that the arrows might not pierce through their visors.

King Henry had heard mass at the break of day, and then mounting his grey charger had arranged his troops for the battle, the archers forming the right and left wings. He rode through the ranks and harangued the soldiers, pointing out the danger of their position, from which the only escape was victory. He reminded them of those other battles in which their fathers and grandfathers, wearied and outnumbered, had fought and conquered, and then dismounting from his horse he placed himself at the head of the infantry and led the attack. Twice they halted to take breath, and twice they came on with a great shout, while a shower of arrows rushed through the air into the vanguard of the French army. The English archers were slightly armed and poorly dressed, but strong and active; they wore an axe or sword at their girdle and carried a pike to force their way through the thickest of the fight. In the French army there was neither order nor discipline. The King and his sons were not present as at CrÉcy and Poitiers, and the princes would obey no other leader. Those who were not placed in the vanguard refused to stay with their men but pressed forward to join the line of cavaliers in heavy armour who bore the noblest names in France, and stood in the front of the battle. A squadron of cavalry was ordered to charge; they were the flower of the French troops. They came on impetuously at a gallop, but the ground was soft with deep mud, the horses slipped, floundered, and became unmanageable, a flight of arrows falling amongst them added to their confusion, they turned and fled. Then the English throwing down bows and pikes, seized their swords and axes and rushed into the thick of the fight. They broke through the first division, but when they came to the second and third there were no leaders, as they had all gone to the front ranks. The subalterns could not lead the soldiers, who hesitated, wavered, and at last gave way, and the battle became a rout. The English were too few in number to pursue as they dared not separate, and Henry seeing a troop coming up, and thinking the enemy were being reinforced, gave the order to put the prisoners to death, which command began to be carried out, but presently, seeing that the troop was also retreating, the King ordered the massacre to be stopped, which was at once done, but not before many lives had been sacrificed, and a deep stain inflicted upon his name.

The English lost sixteen hundred men, including the Duke of York and Earl of Oxford, but the losses of the French are said to have been ten thousand men and fifteen hundred prisoners. Among the dead were the Duc de Brabant and Comte de Nevers, brothers of the Duke of Burgundy, the Duc de Bar and his two brothers, the Constable d’Albret and the Duc d’AlenÇon, all nearly related to the King, and numbers of other nobles and gentlemen. Among the prisoners were the Ducs d’OrlÉans and Bourbon, the Comtes de Richemont and Eu, Marshal Boucicault, and many others of high degree.

But the army of King Henry was too small and too exhausted to push its victory any further; in fact, its safety appeared to him so doubtful that he ordered all the plunder taken to be burnt, and taking their prisoners with them the English troops turned their steps towards Calais and embarked for Dover a week after the victory.259 The Queen was at Melun when the news of the disaster arrived. She was ill at the time, and had also become so stout that she had been obliged to give up riding, therefore in haste and consternation she had herself carried in a litter to Paris, taking with her the Duchesse d’Aquitaine, for fear of falling into the hands of the Duke of Burgundy, who directly he heard of the result of the battle and the losses of the Armagnacs, started for the capital at the head of ten thousand cavalry. The Queen and Duchesse d’Aquitaine were at the hÔtel d’OrlÉans,260 and the Duc d’Aquitaine, who now returned in haste to Paris, went to the hÔtel de Bourbon; the King, the Duc de Berry, and Comte d’Armagnac also hurried back; the King of Sicily took refuge at Angers, to get out of the way of Jean Sans-peur, who was his bitter enemy, because he had first betrothed his son to the daughter of the latter, a little child, and then changed his mind and sent her back to her father.

The Duc d’Aquitaine sent to forbid Burgundy to advance, and not liking to set his son-in-law at defiance he arrested his march, but in the midst of all the anxiety and commotion that was going on, Louis Duc d’Aquitaine died after a few days’ illness, having, as had always been foretold, utterly destroyed his constitution by the excesses of his life. Before his death he expressed his remorse at his conduct to his wife.261 Of course there were some who declared that he had been poisoned, and that Jean Sans-peur had done it, but as his death prevented the Duke of Burgundy’s daughter from being Queen of France this is not at all likely, however angry he might have been at Aquitaine’s treatment of her and disregard of his own counsels.

The next Dauphin, Jean Duc de Touraine, lived with his wife and her family in Hainault, where the Queen and Council (the King being ill) sent, to desire him to come at once to Paris. But Jean, brought up by the near relations and firm allies of Burgundy, was far more Burgundian than his elder brother, the son-in-law of Jean Sans-peur. He refused to receive the deputation except in the presence of the Burgundian ambassadors, and he would not go to Paris unless his uncle of Burgundy might go too. Louis d’Aquitaine had died at the beginning of 1416, and it was not until early in 1417 that, after much discussion and exchange of letters and messengers he set off with his father-in-law for CompiÈgne, as the Queen absolutely refused to come to St. Quentin as they wished.262

They established themselves in the royal palace of CompiÈgne, where they were joined by the Dauphine and Comtesse de Hainault, and where they lived in state and splendour as Jean always had done, for the Hainaults were very rich. Jacqueline was their only child, and they were exceedingly proud of the alliance with the son of the King, especially now he had become Dauphin. He was now eighteen, and seems to have had more constancy of purpose than his brother, but to have been entirely under the influence of the Comte de Hainault and Duke of Burgundy. What he was really like is impossible to say. De MÉzeray calls him “un jeune homme capriceux, acriastre, dÉplaisant en moeurs et faÇons.” Juvenal des Ursins and Paradin observe that it was a pity he did not live to be King, as he had been well brought up and taught by the Comte de Hainault who was a wise prince. The monk of St. Denis declares that he was a noble character, but he generally appears to have had that opinion of the fleurs-de-lis. It was very likely that he was better than his eldest brother, as he easily might have been. He was extravagant and magnificent like all his family, and those who surrounded him and had charge of his education were always praising his lavish generosity and inciting him to hold a more brilliant court than his parents the King and Queen.263

That the Dauphin and Dauphine lived in great splendour at CompiÈgne is proved by many of the bills and accounts still existing, the costly stuffs of their dresses, the magnificent plate and jewels, and the presents they made to each other and to the members of their households. Messengers went perpetually between CompiÈgne, Senlis, Paris, and other places to fetch things and to carry letters. There is a record of a sum paid to the Provost of Senlis for having escorted “pour la doubte et pÉril des chemins,” a sum of money from Senlis to CompiÈgne. Sums of money are also given to the King’s minstrels, to the choristers of the Dauphin’s chapel, and to Hennequin who takes care of his pet dogs; also for tapestry hangings for his room, nine pieces, with a stag hunt and boat hunt on green worked with silk, gold, and silver.264

Isabeau must have been estranged from the son who had been so separated from her; for we find that when she came to Senlis with her youngest son Charles, who had been made Duc de Touraine, Governor of Paris, and Duc de Berry (the old Duke having just died), although the Dauphine was taken there to pay her homage, and spent some hours with her “en grande lÉeses,” Isabeau returned to Paris with the Comte de Hainault without seeing the Dauphin. Possibly she may have been irritated against him, for he still refused to come to Paris, now in the hands of the Armagnacs, and demanded the regency during the King’s malady.

But amongst the schemes, disputes, and rivalry of the two parties, one of which put its trust in the Dauphin, and the other fixed its hopes on his brother, the Duc de Touraine, then between fourteen and fifteen years old—a sudden change raised the spirits of the one and filled the other with dismay. The Dauphin began to be ill. Doctors were sent for; we read of “chevaucheurs” sent to ride “haste hastivement” to fetch fruit and medicines from Paris; and prayers and masses said and sung in chapels and convents for his recovery.

Early in April the Comte de Hainault, secretly warned that he would be arrested by the Armagnacs, escaped early in the morning from Paris on pretence of a pilgrimage to St. Maur-des-fossÉs, in the forest of Vincennes, from whence he rode in haste to CompiÈgne. But he found the Dauphin ill in bed “with a swollen body and other symptoms of poison,” according to some historians, or, as others say, with an abscess in the ear. At any rate he died in a few days,265 and there was an outcry of poison, perhaps with more probability than usual, for he had not ruined his health like his brother, and though it could be nothing but an outrageous calumny that the Queen had done it by means of a gold chain she sent him, it was more likely that if there had been foul play at all it came from the Armagnacs who had everything to gain by the death of the Burgundian Jean and the succession of the Armagnac Charles, the son-in-law of the King of Sicily and bitter enemy of Burgundy.

Isabeau was certainly most unlucky in her relations with her sons. Three of them died in early childhood, with Louis she latterly had frequent quarrels, Jean was estranged from her; but the unnatural strife and hatred between her and her remaining son Charles was the crown of all the calamities of her reign. It seems to have been caused in the first place by Armagnac, who, in consequence of the death soon after each other of the King’s two elder sons, the Duc de Berry, the King of Sicily, and the Comte de Hainault, had become exceedingly powerful and, the only person whose power and influence might stand in his way being the Queen, proceeded to make mischief between her, the Dauphin, a weak, characterless boy, and the King, whose mind was now more clouded and his intellect feebler during the intervals between the attacks of his terrible malady.

Added to all this, the King of England threatened that he would soon be in Paris and there were hurried preparations to resist him. All the places that lay on the road by which he would pass were strengthened, moats deepened, walls repaired, batteries of wood and stone made, and stores of provisions laid in. St. Denis was especially fortified, and the monks had to contribute largely to the defence fund, for which purpose they were obliged to sell two large gold crowns and a quantity of silver plate. The holy relics, including the body of St. Denis, were taken by some of the monks to Paris and hidden in a safe but secular place, which, however, caused so much scandal that they had to be brought back again; and the monk who writes of this time says that for eleven months the trumpets of the enemy were continually in their ears.266

The Queen was holding her court at Vincennes and had placed in command of the troops who acted as her guards, Louis de Bosredon, and the Sires de Graville and Giac, dissolute young nobles, who spent enormous sums of money and passed their time in feasting, revelry, and in carrying on intrigues with the Queen’s ladies, and, it was rumoured, even with the Queen herself. At least it was said by Armagnac and his party, to whose interest it was to circulate such a report, and who succeeded in making the Dauphin and the King, who then had a lucid interval, believe the story. Being at the same time weak and violent, and so, as is always the case, more dangerous and mischievous than a person who, though violent, is also strong, they listened to the words of Armagnac, and the King riding in haste one evening to Vincennes, passed Bosredon, who instead of dismounting according to the usual etiquette, saluted slightly and rode on. This put a finishing stroke to the anger of Charles, who ordered him to be arrested. He was put to the “question” or torture, and was said to have made compromising confessions respecting the Queen. He was thrown into the Seine and drowned; the other young nobles escaped. It is very likely, whatever admissions were wrung by these iniquitous means from Bosredon, that he was not guilty; as to Isabeau she was about forty-seven years old, had grown fat, and was suffering from gout, which circumstances make such an accusation as far as she was concerned highly improbable, though the disorders of her court were doubtless deplorable. However, the conspiracy had succeeded, she was sent to Tours with the Duchess of Bavaria her sister-in-law, and not allowed as she wished, to go to Melun, where she had much treasure, a great deal of which was seized by the Dauphin, and the part he took in this outrage aroused in the Queen that undying hatred which caused such disaster to him and to France.

It would have been better for the Dauphin Charles if he had let his mother and her friends and her treasure alone, for Isabeau, though capricious and foolish, was not a woman to submit tamely to such an outrage as this. And Jean Sans-peur was neither capricious, foolish, nor weak, and it was to him that her thoughts turned in this crisis.

For about six months Isabeau led an intolerable life at Tours in close captivity, guarded by Jean Picard, who had been her own secretary, and had betrayed to the Dauphin the existence of a collection of gold, silver, pearls, and diamonds which she had entrusted to the keeping of the Abbot of St. Denis; Guillaume Toreau, her chancellor, and Laurent du Puy, whom she hated more than any of them, as he prevented her from writing or receiving letters without his leave and treated her with disrespect, even speaking to her without taking his hat off.

She managed however to send a secret message to the Duke of Burgundy with her seal. Jean Sans-peur was besieging Corbeil, but he knew that the Queen was worth more to him than the possession of that or any other town, so he raised the siege and rode day and night to Tours where he arrived on the Feast of All Souls.

The Queen meanwhile had signified her intention of performing her devotions at the abbey of Marmoutiers on the banks of the Loire, near Tours. The three gaolers did not venture to object to this act of religion. While prayers were going on they approached the Queen and said that a great company of Burgundians and English were close at hand. Just then Hector de Saveuse, lieutenant of the Duke of Burgundy, having posted armed men all round, entered the church and saluted the Queen in the name of his master who was close at hand. Isabeau pointed to her three gaolers saying, “Arrest these three men.” This was immediately done, but Laurent du Puy, who knew it was all over with him, broke away, ran down to the Loire, tried to jump into a boat that lay moored to the shore, fell into the water and was drowned. In two hours the Queen and the Duke of Burgundy had met and become reconciled; the Queen assumed the regency, and under the powerful escort of the Duke of Burgundy, having been recognised by the authorities of Tours, made a progress through central France with her ladies, and fixed her court and parliament at Troyes. She had a seal engraved with the arms of France and Bavaria and issued proclamations beginning, “Isabelle, par la grace de Dieu Royne de France.” The civil war now raged as fiercely as ever, and the English had conquered most of Normandy and were besieging Rouen.

In May, 1418, a party of young men, partisans of the Queen and Burgundy, led by Perrinet le Clerc, whose father kept the keys of the porte S. Germain-des-PrÈs, went to Seigneur de L’Isle Adam, and offered to admit the Burgundian troops by night into Paris. It was arranged that the latter should be at the gate with eight hundred men, and Perrinet should contrive to steal the keys from his father who always kept them under his pillow, and who would have distrusted any one rather than his son. With a band of the conspirators Perrinet crept secretly in the darkness to the Porte St. Germain and awaited the coming of the soldiers. It was nearly two hours after midnight when the gate was unlocked, L’Isle Adam and his troops in order of battle passed stealthily through, and Perrinet le Clerc locked the gate behind them and threw the keys over the wall into the moat, while the Burgundians began their silent march through the dark, narrow streets, no word being spoken until they stood before the ChÂtelet where a body of four hundred armed men waited for them, and then began the attack on the houses of the Armagnacs with a sudden rush amid cries for the King and Burgundy. Forcing their way to the palace they seized the King, induced him to grant all their demands and rode away with him. Armagnac escaped in disguise; Tanneguy du Chastel, provost of Paris, aroused by the noise and tumult, hastened to the hÔtel of the Dauphin, wrapped him in a cloak, and hurried him and the Dauphine into the Bastille where some of their party had taken refuge. Doors were flung open, people rushed out of their houses with arms in their hands, torches gleamed and cries resounded in the streets, plunder, fighting, and slaughter went on all night, and in the morning both King and capital were in the hands of the Burgundians. Armagnac was betrayed by the man who had sheltered him and carried off to prison; Tanneguy du Chastel escaped with the Dauphin to Corbeil and thence to Melun; the town was given up to violence, pillage, and murder; the Armagnacs fled in confusion; and the Duke of Burgundy went to Troyes and brought back the Queen in triumph. All the chiefs of the Burgundian party came to meet them with six hundred of the principal citizens, bringing velvet robes covered with crosses of St. Andrew for Burgundy and his nephew which they put on to enter Paris. The Queen was seated on a “char,” the streets so lately running with blood were strewn with flowers, and the King received the Queen with affection and satisfaction.

But very soon the approach of the English army compelled them to take refuge at Troyes, while a dreadful pestilence was ravaging the country. The Abbot of St. Denis died, and many other people of importance. Many fled from the country, and for four months there was a dreadful mortality.267 The Duke of Burgundy was now declared Captain of Paris instead of the Dauphin, who remained at Bourges. The King, Queen, and Princess Catherine were completely under the influence of Burgundy, whose eldest son was, it will be remembered, married to another daughter of the King, and whose aim now was to get the Dauphin also under his guidance, which did not seem to be at all impossible, Charles being only fifteen, and having no more brains, capacity, nor decision of character than his brother Louis; being absolutely guided by whoever he was with, and at present surrounded by persons of no particular rank or weight. The young Comte de Clermont, son of the Duc de Bourbon, who was about the age of the Dauphin and had just returned from captivity in England, had come over to the Burgundians, saying that wherever the King was, there was his place, and it was hoped the Dauphin would do the same. Armagnac was dead, and his chief counsellor was Tanneguy du Chastel, a Breton gentleman. Burgundy had sent his young wife Marie d’Anjou back to him and was anxious for a reconciliation.

The English conquests were spreading. Rouen was besieged and taken, and though negotiations were going on for the marriage of the Princess Catherine, Henry V. demanded as her dowry all the provinces conceded to his great-grandfather by the peace of Bretigny, to which the King and Duke of Burgundy would not agree.

As the King and Queen started to take the Princess Catherine to meet Henry V. at Pontoise, however, the King was seized with an attack of frenzy, so he had to be left there while the Duke of Burgundy went on to Melun with the Queen and Princess. Henry V. met them, and at once fell in love with the Princess who was just nineteen and extremely beautiful; but he would not come to terms about the dowry, and Isabeau, thinking to inflame his passion for her, only let them meet once and then sent her back to Pontoise. However, this only infuriated Henry, who told Burgundy that he would have the Princess and the lands too, in spite of them, “et je vous chasseray de France, vous et vostre Roy.”268

The negotiations not having resulted in much good the King desired the Dauphin and Duke of Burgundy to make peace. The Duc de Bretagne went to and fro between the Dauphin, his brother-in-law, and the Queen and Burgundy. “Everywhere there was a great longing for the success of the arrangements for there was great desolation in all parts of the kingdom for the war was of father against son, brother against brother, uncle against nephew. And the worst was when in one town were held the two factions of Burgundy and Armagnac, and thieves and robbers were everywhere and merchandise always and everywhere lost.”269

It was difficult enough to persuade the Dauphin to agree to terms, but the Queen sent the Dame de Giac, an old lady the Dauphin had been very fond of from his childhood, and who was said to have been at one time the mistress of the Duke of Burgundy, to Pouilly where the conference was going on. She went from one tent to the other and managed so to arrange matters as to bring about a reconciliation. The Dauphin, who, though he had no sense, had very pleasant manners, showed great courtesy to the Duke and when they separated frantic rejoicings took place at Paris, bells ringing, feasting in the streets, singing and dancing going on all night long.270

But, as at the marriage festivities of Richard II. and Isabelle, a great storm came on during the conference, “and,” says the monk of St. Denis, “the heavens were black with clouds, there was thunder and lightning and torrents of rain and huge hailstones which destroyed the vines and crops. Some said this storm arose from natural causes, but it was most generally believed that the evil spirits could sometimes produce these disorders and that perhaps the interviews of the princes were disagreeable to them. Therefore people did not believe in the stability or durability of the treaty concluded. It was also the opinion of several of the learned astrologers. For my part I leave their judgment to Him who reigns in the heavens.”271

The truce with England expired and the war broke out again. The English troops took many towns and castles, the Duke of Burgundy retired with the King and Queen to Troyes, and no adequate measures were taken against the enemy. The Dauphin returned from Touraine in September, and sent Tanneguy du Chastel to Troyes to ask for another conference with the Duke of Burgundy, who at first refused, saying that there was peace between them and the Dauphin had much better come to Troyes to his father and mother. However, he allowed himself to be persuaded and consented to meet the Dauphin at Montereau, in spite of the entreaties and warnings of his own friends and followers who dreaded the vengeance of the Armagnacs for all his deeds, from the murder of Louis d’OrlÉans to the late massacres of their friends and relations in Paris, besides their fear of his gaining over the Dauphin the influence he already possessed over the King and Queen.

The interview was to take place on the bridge of Montereau, to which the Duke of Burgundy rode on the 10th of September, about three in the afternoon. As he dismounted to go on to the bridge, three of his servants who had been upon it examining the barrier across it, which they did not like the look of, came up to him and again begged him not to risk himself on it, but it was no use. At the barrier in the middle of the bridge he met the Dauphin, the one through which he himself passed having been locked behind him. After a few words of conversation, the Dauphin, as the Duke knelt before him, began to reproach him with having done nothing to oppose the English. At that moment one of the Armagnacs pushed him from behind, Burgundy laid his hand on his sword which had got behind him to pull it forward. Robert de Loir, who had pushed him, exclaimed, “Mettez-vous la main À vostre ÉpÉe en la prÉsence de Monseigneur le Dauphin?” Tanneguy du Chastel approached, made a sign, and saying “Il est temps” struck the Duke with an axe. He tried to draw his sword but it was too late, there was a cry of “Tuez! tuez!” a fierce scuffle; then Jean Sans-peur lay dead at the feet of the Dauphin, and Louis d’OrlÉans was avenged.

The rage, consternation, and mischief caused by this event throughout the country, just as every one thought there was going to be a little peace, cannot be described. The Queen and her son-in-law Philippe, Comte de Charolais, now Duke of Burgundy, prepared to take their revenge. Philippe, overwhelmed with grief, would scarcely see or speak to any one for days. To his wife he said, “Michelle, your brother has murdered my father”; and then finding that she was fretting and making herself miserable fearing to lose his affection he comforted and reassured her. The Queen and Duke of Burgundy sent proclamations to all the chief towns in France denouncing the Dauphin for the murder of Jean Sans-peur; and made a treaty with the King of England at Troyes, by which they agreed that he should marry the Princess Catherine and not only act as regent of France during the King’s illnesses but succeed to the crown to the exclusion of the Dauphin.

Isabeau, who was then at Troyes, sent the Bishop of Arras secretly to Henry to invite him to come there, and to take him a love-letter from the Princess Catherine, with which he was delighted.272 The young princess was deeply in love with Henry V. and very anxious to be Queen of England, and had all along persuaded her mother, whose great favourite she was, to help her in the matter and forward the alliance. Isabeau was glad enough to do so for she loved her daughter and hated her son, and this marriage fell in with her views regarding them both. The wedding was celebrated at Troyes, June 3, 1420, with extraordinary magnificence. The Kings and Queens of France and England and the young Duke of Burgundy entered Paris, and spent Christmas there; after which Henry and Catherine went on a visit to England. The young Queen seems to have felt bitterly the separation from her parents and country; an ancient chronicle says of her: “Item, ce jour party la fille de France nommÉe Catherine que le roy d’Engleterre avoit espousÉe et fut menÉe en Engleterre, et fut une piteuse dÉpartie, especialement du roy de France et de sa fille.”273

Just before Christmas, 1421, came the news of the birth of a son to the King and Queen of England. In Paris as in London bells rang and bonfires blazed in the streets; for the child, afterwards the unfortunate Henry VI., was born the heir of both England and France. The winter was an unusually cold one, the frost being so severe that no corn could be ground except in windmills, all the watermills being frozen up.

In May, 1422, Queen Catherine came back escorted in great pomp by a great body of English troops. She arrived at Vincennes, where she stayed some weeks with her parents and husband who received her, as an ancient chronicler observes, “as if she had been an angel.” The court kept Whitsuntide at Paris, Charles VI. and Isabeau at the hÔtel St. Paul, Henry V. and Catherine at the Louvre. The people thronged to see the great banquets at which the King and Queen of England feasted in splendid robes, crowns, and jewels; while those of the King and Queen of France were neglected, and at neither were food and wine given away according to ancient custom, which caused much discontent. But these were the last great fÊtes of the French court in the reigns of Charles and Henry. In the following August the King of England, who had for some time been suffering from a dangerous and, in those days, incurable malady, died at Vincennes, and his death was followed in October by that of Charles VI. at the hÔtel St. Paul. Henry died at thirty-six, in the midst of a brilliant and victorious career King of England and almost King of France, leaving a widow of twenty-one overwhelmed with grief, an infant heir to two kingdoms, and a nation in mourning. Charles, whose reign began so magnificently, passed away in the half-deserted palace of St. Paul. Although Isabeau was living there at the time, only his confessor, almoner, and the first gentleman of his household were with him when he died, at the age of fifty-three.

The Queen does not seem to have been present at the funeral, the Dauphin was an exile and an enemy, and the chief mourner was the Duke of Bedford, Regent of France for Henry of Lancaster. The funeral waited till his arrival at Paris and there was much dispute as to what the arrangements should be, it having been so long since a King of France had been buried that very few people remembered, and there were no records on the subject.

The litter was so constructed, that it could be made narrower to pass through the doors of St. Paul, Notre Dame, and the narrow streets, and widened in the broader thoroughfares. On it was placed the coffin covered with a pall of cloth of gold and scarlet with deep border of blue velvet embroidered with golden fleurs-de-lis, which fell down to the ground. It was surmounted by an image of the King dressed in royal robes, with mantle of ermine, crown, and sceptre. The litter was carried by the “varlets” of the King and followed by two hundred gentlemen of his household in black, bearing torches and shields with the arms of France. Next came the mendicant orders, Jacobins, Carmelites, Cordeliers, and Augustins, then the colleges, parochial clergy, ecclesiastics of the collegiate churches and university, bishops, abbots and nobles, members of Parliament, the four presidents in mantles of scarlet and vair holding the four corners of the pall, the King’s chamberlain, esquires, and many of the chief citizens; the Duke of Bedford, Regent of France, rode behind the litter. The streets and windows were crowded with people mourning and lamenting, and so, at the hour of vespers the body of Charles le Bien-aimÉ was carried to Notre Dame. The church was hung with costly stuffs covered with fleurs-de-lis, and blazing with torches, the psalms and vigils for the dead were chanted “et fut nuict.” Next morning, after mass, the procession formed again and the body was carried in state to St. Denis, where all night the monks chanted psalms and vigils for the dead; and then next day, after a magnificent requiem, Charles VI. was buried by his father and mother, and through the dim aisles and cloister of the great abbey resounded the cry, “Pray for the soul of the most excellent prince, Charles VI., King of France.”

After the religious rites were over the Duke of Bedford dined in his own room, but there was a great dinner in the vast hall of the abbey to which crowded prelates, nobles, gentlemen, and officials, maÎtres d’hÔtel restraining those who were pressing to the chief table and had no right there, and alms being distributed while the banquet was going on to more than five thousand poor people.

Isabeau survived her husband twelve years, but this latter part of her life contains scarcely anything of sufficient interest to record. After the death of her son-in-law Henry V., with whom she always got on well, the departure of her daughter Catherine for England, and the death of Charles VI., she lived in the half-deserted palace of St. Paul with a diminished household and shattered fortune. Her daughter the Duchess of Burgundy died in 1423, and of her twelve children there only remained the son she hated, the Queen of England, now far away, and her second and third daughters, Jeanne, Duchesse de Bretagne, and Marie, Prioress of Poissy, whom it is to be supposed she sometimes saw.

Her brother, Ludwig of Bavaria, also survived her. But war and famine and pestilence had devastated the kingdom. Grass grew in the streets of Paris, and wolves came and attacked children outside the walls and even within the city.274 One event of interest happened in 1431, which was the state entry of her grandson Henry VI. into Paris. While Isabeau stood at the window of the hÔtel St. Paul watching the pageant, the child looked up at her as he rode by, and, some one saying to him, “That is the Queen-dowager of France, your grandmother,” he took off his cap and saluted her. At the sight of the young King, the son of her favourite daughter, riding as she herself had done amid the acclamations of the people through the streets which had once been decorated and thronged to do her honour, Isabeau burst into tears and turned from the window. The King, then ten years old, afterwards went to visit his grandmother at the hÔtel St. Paul.275

Isabeau died there in 1435, September 29th. She had a favourite old German lady who lived with her to the last and with her other ladies followed her funeral cortÈge to Notre Dame on the 13th of October. Very little pomp was displayed on that occasion, but the clergy of that cathedral came in procession to St. Paul, and spared nothing to make the office worthy of a sovereign, lending a crown, sceptre, and other royal ornaments. There were present the Chancellor of France, the Bishop of Paris, and certain French and English nobles. After the ceremony the body was placed in a boat by the presidents of Parliament and taken to St. Denis to be buried by her husband Charles VI.276 Paris was still in possession of the English, but just before the Queen’s death the treaty of Arras was signed between the Duke of Burgundy and Charles VII.