Queen Of Four Kingdoms, The

by of Kent, HRH Princess Michael

  Chapter Eight

  Do we become wiser with age? Now that Yolande has reached her fifty-eighth year, she feels she has attained a certain peace in her life, not only from the knowledge that René’s estates in France and Lorraine are in good order, but because the life of Charles their king has reached a stage where he can be proud of all he has achieved. At last she has secured reliable people around him; the reconciliation with Burgundy is complete; the English are confined to Normandy. All the bad influences that infiltrated his court she has quietly banished or neutralized, and his advisers are people worthy of her trust – primarily her youngest son Charles, who is cleverer than her adorable René, and on whom René has bestowed his own earldom of Maine. Charles has become a close confidant and key adviser to the king. Pierre de Brézé has also risen to a senior post in the royal circle and government. Most importantly, the king has finally taken his able constable, Arthur of Richemont, into his confidence.

  Thanks to these sound men, the country’s finances are in order, the military are disciplined and ready, and the king is becoming a real king, in the eyes not only of the court, but of all his people. He is more confident, more assured, and Yolande likes to think that by treating him as a king since his father’s death, she has helped him to become one. It has come as something of a surprise to many that he has chosen to take up the position at the head of his army himself, another proof of his growing self-confidence.

  Yolande has decided that the moment has come for her to leave the court, its peculiarly enigmatic king and its varied troubles, and to spend the rest of her days at her beloved Saumur, in the beauty of the Loire district of Anjou. When she informs the king of her decision, he decides to come to Saumur to spend some time with her there. There is so much neither of them can commit to letters.

  ‘Welcome, sire,’ she says, as she forces her stiffening knees into a low reverence from which he raises her the moment he can jump down from his horse. She smiles at the Charles she came to know here, the dear Charles, caring and considerate and uncorrupted.

  ‘Welcome home to Saumur,’ she says, and they embrace.

  Once inside, by the warmth of the fire, cups of mulled wine in their hands, he says, ‘Bonne mère, you know how much you have always meant to me. I cherish every memory and often sit and reminisce with Marie about our childhoods spent with you and the others. I feel truly blessed to have had your good counsel for many years and I ask you please, even if you no longer feel able to join my court, to continue writing to me with your thoughts.’

  ‘Of course, Charles, dearest son,’ she replies. ‘You know I will always look on you as my own.’

  He tells her of his plans for the standing army he intends to create – just as her husband, his uncle Louis, advised him long ago – and then they speak of him and of her darling lost son, and of René in Naples and so much more. She asks about Marie and his dauphin, and she can see he is troubled on both their accounts – Marie because she cannot seem to bear another healthy child, and Louis because of his strange character. She knows it would be so much better if he had siblings. Being an only child, everyone defers to him, and that has not helped.

  It seems Charles has some inkling of this himself. ‘When I look back on all you have advised me to do in my life, and how often I did not follow your wise direction, I realize how misguided I have been. I have learnt my lesson and will listen and obey better in future! And I promise, with your permission, I will visit again soon, if you will allow?’

  Yolande knows he has only come for one night – and considers it an honour he has come at all, with so many demands on his time. In the morning they bid one another farewell, after many assurances on her part that he is always welcome, just as he has been since childhood. Charles looks at her tenderly, and she knows she has a place in his heart.

  Chapter Nine

  To Yolande’s surprise, she receives emissaries from the new young Holy Roman Emperor, Frederick, indicating an interest in her granddaughter.

  ‘My dear child, what do you think? Shall we receive his ambassadors?’ she asks Marguerite.

  ‘Well, Grandmaman, why not?’

  ‘Only because I cannot give them an answer one way or the other – that is for your parents to decide.’

  ‘But let us see them anyway. You are always teaching me the importance of curiosity if I want to learn – and I am curious to know what they have to say.’

  The two of them laugh, and decide that yes, they will receive the ambassadors – their visit will allow them some distraction.

  ‘Let’s dress up for them,’ Marguerite says with glee, and Yolande sends a courier to Jacques Coeur with a message to supply her with a suitable wardrobe for Marguerite to meet the emperor’s representatives. Jacques does as he is bidden, and more. Yolande can imagine her friend thinking: ‘If this princess is to become an empress, she must look the part.’ She has instructed him to spare no expense, and he has certainly taken her at her word!

  ‘Grandmaman, look!’ says Marguerite when the trunks of clothes arrive, and they play like children at dressing her up.

  When the ambassadors come, Marguerite makes her entrance in the most luxurious gold brocade and white ermine. Yolande can tell from their expressions that her granddaughter has made a great impression: beautiful and intelligent as well as superbly dressed. And she laughs to herself, but her laugh is a poignant one, as she remembers the ambassadors who came to visit her all those years ago, those men who set the course of her life.

  ‘Well, my darling girl, what did you make of them?’ Yolande asks her granddaughter after their visit.

  ‘Madame Grandmère, I will do whatever you and my parents say,’ she replies in her peculiar formal way. ‘I found them agreeable, and from the pictures they showed me of the young emperor, I was not displeased.’

  ‘So if your parents were in favour, you would not disagree?’

  ‘Oh no, I think I should like him, and what fun to become an empress!’

  Marguerite has a mind of her own, despite the impeccable manners she has been taught, but it is René and Isabelle who must take the decision; Yolande cannot do it for them. The ambassadors will have to wait for a reply from Naples. But Yolande also knows in her heart that their arrival signals a change in her own life. If she is to make a good marriage, Marguerite must be exposed to court life; she is reaching the age where her beauty, intelligence and position proclaim her a desirable match. Yolande writes to Isabelle in Naples:

  Darling Isabelle, I believe I have taught your enchanting youngest and most delightful child everything that I know to equip her with the ability to enter a union with any prince or great lord. Now it is your turn to expose her to the court life to which my gentle old age no longer draws me. I think it might be appropriate for her to be at the royal court of France in the care of my darling Marie, who would welcome her, I know. Forgive me, my time there is past. May I have your thoughts on this?

  But by the time her letter reaches Isabelle, it is too late. By return, Yolande learns that their situation has changed completely. There is dramatic news from René in Naples:

  Maman, my dearest mother, I am sad to say that the enchantment of our court in Naples was too good to last. I have lived in a fool’s paradise these past three years. Once again our cousin Alfonso d’Aragon has intervened to try to establish his right to our throne. It seems our quarrel will never end. When he was captured by the Genoese navy and handed over to the Duke of Milan, remember how we hoped he would remain the mighty duke’s prisoner for a long time? To my amazement, it seems Alfonso convinced the duke it was in Milan’s interests that he rule in Naples, not me, and he was released, while I was held for six years by Burgundy!

  The threat is real: René cannot afford to maintain a large army indefinitely, while Alfonso has the backing of the Holy Roman Emperor and his unlimited resources. In spite of René’s courage and that of his supporters, it becomes impossible to maintain his army.

  To put it plainly, I have run out
of money to finance my troops. Despite every effort and the support of the local people, I am slowly, reluctantly, coming to the realization that I cannot win against my cousin of Aragon. I will fight to the end with my people, but the day has come when I must send Isabelle, the children, her ladies and any non-fighting staff home to France for their safety. This morning, after I hugged the children and said my goodbyes to the ladies of the court and all the non-combative staff, Isabelle and I embraced and parted resignedly, our hearts broken. We both know, without words, that it is over.

  Something has been torn from me this day, the dream Isabelle and I have shared all our married lives, the dream that kept me positive during my imprisonment, the endless letters in laborious code stoking the flames of that dream – so much effort from so many; most of all, by you. Dearest Maman, once they reach Marseilles, they will come directly to Saumur. Please receive them gently.

  This letter from her son has come as an insurmountable blow. She has sent René everything she has – there is simply nothing left with which to raise more money. Nor can she appeal to the king – he is not in a position to help at this time. She writes to Marie, but she knows there is nothing her daughter can do. She asks Pierre de Brézé for his ideas; her son Charles of Maine; and the ever-faithful Jean Dunois. None of them can find a way to help René against an enemy with such unlimited credit.

  René’s next letter is even more bleak.

  Maman, most understanding of mothers, I have been forced again and again to retreat towards Naples, in the hope that somehow, by a miracle, we can keep the city from Alfonso with the help of the local citizens. Our food and arms are running low, and I fear it is really over.

  When she arrives in Saumur, Yolande greets Isabelle with open arms. She has worn a little but still looks splendid. And the children, how they have changed, and know their grandmother not at all. It dismays her to have missed out on their childhoods, but then she had the pleasure of Marguerite who does not yet know her mother or siblings. As they play with Isabelle’s demoiselles, Marguerite enjoys getting to know their many dogs, their birds, and Vitesse, their old cheetah, gentler than any of the dogs.

  ‘Dearest daughter, yes it will be hard to lose Marguerite, but of course I understand, and we have much to discuss.’

  They settle down with the excellent tea Jacques Coeur sends to Yolande at Saumur.

  ‘As you know, I have always remained close to your eldest son Jean, whom you left in charge in Lorraine, and I trust that has been a comfort to you? You will see – he has turned into a young prince of whom you can both be proud.’

  ‘Maman, it was so wise of you to send him to Marseilles after Alfonso d’Aragon sacked the city. I believe it made a man of him to see such suffering at first hand – he wrote to me at length. I know it really did raise the spirits of the people to have a member of our family there to represent us.’

  ‘Dearest son, it has been a pleasure keeping a family eye on both Jean and Marguerite, who have grown healthy and strong and I believe will prove a great credit to you both. What sadness that, of your other children, only your son Louis and daughter Yolande have lived beyond childhood. I know from Marie how hard it is to lose children in their early years and you had lost four already in Lorraine, and then buried another two in Naples.’ Tears fill Isabelle’s eyes – she has such a loving attachment to her family, unlike many of their world.

  If only Isabelle’s visit could last longer, but after two weeks she must leave for Lorraine to go to her son Jean, who needs her. As they sit by the fire in the evenings, Yolande delights in Isabelle’s stories of Naples, and can understand how sad she and the others must feel to have left such an enchanted place, especially now, with their worry over René’s safety. A great sadness for Yolande is that naturally Isabelle will take Marguerite with her when she goes. But the cogs of Yolande’s mind are still turning, and she has an idea.

  ‘My dearest daughter-in-law, I have a favour to ask, though I feel guilty for even broaching the subject.’

  ‘Maman, anything, after all you have done for us,’ she answers.

  ‘To help ease my pain at losing Marguerite, would you leave me one of your young ladies for company?’ Yolande can see a question in Isabelle’s face when she says: ‘Of course I have my own ladies, but they are old, and I have so enjoyed having the company of a young, bright companion. I remember a girl I met among your demoiselles when you came to Chinon to say goodbye, who struck me as gifted and kind. When you have mentioned your young ladies in your letters, you often wrote what a help she has been. Would you allow me to keep Agnès Sorel with me? Perhaps you could spare her and she could comfort me in Marguerite’s absence?’

  Isabelle gives her mother-in-law a quizzical look – she knows there are several ladies at Yolande’s court there to read to her – and she always wondered at her interest shown in Agnès in her letters. Naturally, she graciously agrees.

  As always, there is a plan behind Yolande’s innocent requests. She believes Isabelle’s demoiselle Agnès Sorel has the kind of potential she can shape to become of use to her country. In fact, she has kept this girl in her mind’s eye for some time. When Yolande met her at the court in Chinon before Isabelle left for Naples, Agnès was a ravishing fourteen; and since then has grown even more beautiful. The young Queen of Sicily will have seen to it that Agnès, like all the young ladies of her court, has remained pure. Most importantly, Yolande has made a point of speaking with her on several occasions since she arrived with the others at Saumur and finds her highly intelligent. At times, she has mentioned her to Isabelle in letters, and now Yolande has had a chance to see for herself how she has developed. Yes, she may indeed be able to use her.

  Isabelle, her children – including Marguerite – and the rest of her court are ready to leave for Nancy. Their cavalcade is lining up in the large palace courtyard, the dogs and the cheetah all on long lines. Yolande hugs the children, especially Marguerite, and embraces her daughter-in-law.

  ‘Goodbye, my dearest Isabelle – thank you for allowing me the pleasure of your delightful Marguerite. Now take her home to Nancy with my blessing. She has been the best companion I could wish for, and I think she has turned into quite a remarkable young lady. I shall miss her terribly, but I wish you great joy of her.’

  They all say their farewells and promise to meet again soon, but somehow Yolande knows she will not see any of them again.

  Chapter Ten

  The old queen settles down into a quiet routine with her new companion. She cannot hide her delight in this young lady. Agnès has grown into all and more than she had hoped. A little shy, perhaps, but after a few days she relaxes. At the bidding of her mistress, she recounts entertaining anecdotes of life at the court in Naples, while Yolande sits and marvels at her beauty under the pretence of drawing her – a beauty which has refined into alabaster perfection. How she enjoys the girl’s tales of the officials Isabelle had to deal with in her first years there without René.

  ‘You know, madame, often they would arrive unannounced, and my queen and we, her demoiselles, would be resting wearing only our shifts, fanning one another in the heat, lounging on the grass under a tree,’ she tells her, doing her best not to change her position in case she ruins the sketch. ‘Suddenly there would appear a fully uniformed, heel-clicking officer, totally disarmed by the sight of so many young ladies virtually in undress! A quick military about-turn so his back was to us, and despite our giggles, he would impart his message to the wall. Stuttering, and with several quick low bows to the wall, he would leave in a fast high-stepping march! How we would laugh.’ There is no guile in her, no coquettishness, and yet she is full of fun.

  Her stories entertain Yolande for hours: the formal occasions, full of Spanish protocol from the court of Alfonso, rigorously followed by his people at the court of Naples, who trained the local staff. With time, she tells Yolande, Isabelle managed to make the staff adopt a more informal, relaxed manner.

  Listening to Agnès’ stories
, Yolande fully understands how much Isabelle’s elegant, small court loved their stay in Naples – which makes it harder for her to imagine how it will be for René when he returns.

  Some months pass before Yolande feels she knows Agnès well enough to broach the subject.

  ‘Do you think King René will find it difficult to adapt back to the life of the court in Lorraine, my dear?’ A presumptuous question for her to ask the girl, she knows, but she is genuinely curious about Agnès’ reply, which does not come quickly or thoughtlessly.

  ‘Madame, yes, I believe it will break his heart to leave Naples. It is his true vocation to rule there; the people love him and he clearly loves them too. This he showed in so many ways – firstly by speaking the language on his arrival; his kindness from the lowest to the highest; making sure that anything unfair or wrong of which he became aware was resolved. He himself often sat in at the magistrates’ courts to listen and make sure that correct judgements were given. He would visit the corn markets; the docks; check the cargoes that arrived to satisfy himself that no one was trading slaves, or that pilgrims were being cheated. Oh, he showed he cared for the people in so many ways, and not just for the nobility.’ She stops. ‘Forgive me, madame, my tongue ran away with me.’

  ‘No, my dear girl, I want to know, and to understand if I can, what went wrong, and from what you tell me, it was not the wish of the people of Naples to change their rulers.’