Pictures of the old French court

by Mrs. Bearne

Two more royal marriages took place. Isabelle, Queen of England, was married to Charles, eldest son of the Duc d’Orléans, and her little brother Jean, to Jacqueline, daughter of the Comte de Hainault and niece of the Duke of Burgundy. Isabelle hated this marriage and cried all the time, it was said at court, because she thereby lost the title of Queen of England. Miss Strickland, in her life of that Queen, observes that if she had been so anxious to keep the crown of England, she could easily have done so by marrying King Henry V., and that her grief was caused by her love for King Richard. But at any rate, it is not difficult to understand that a girl of seventeen might well object to be married to a boy of fifteen,[218] and her cousin, besides the fact of his being a subject while she had been a queen. Miss Strickland goes on to state that after a short time she became reconciled to this marriage, Charles of Orléans being accomplished and precocious beyond his years, and devoted to her, but it was cut short by her early death.

{1407}

After the weddings the Comtesse de Hainault wished to take the Duc de Touraine back with her. The Queen objected, and a dispute arose, but as it had been agreed in the contract that he should be under her care, she got her way, took leave of the Queen (the King was then ill), and returned to Hainault. The Count came to meet them with a brilliant suite and received the young prince with great ceremony, and in every place through which they passed was music and rejoicing. The children had the household of sovereign princes, and the Count tried to educate his son-in-law in the ways of the country, that he might live in harmony with his future subjects. The King, when he recovered, made no objection, but consented to the Count’s request that his son should be brought up in Hainault.[219]

Never within the memory of any one alive had been seen such a winter as that of 1407. The snow lay deep on the ground, wells were frozen to an extraordinary depth, wine was frozen in the barrel and bread at the bakers. Many people died of the cold, and it was known as “le grand hiver.”[220] The frost lasted sixty-six days, beginning in November. Louis d’Orléans had been ill on and off all the autumn, and had been staying at Beauté for the benefit of the fresh air of the forest which his father had so loved. Valentine and her children were still in the country, and the King at the Louvre. Isabeau had for some time been living in the hôtel Barbette, where she had given birth to her twelfth and last child, who was christened Philippe and died soon after. Isabeau was still weak, and had not recovered from her illness; she had displayed extraordinary grief at the death of this baby, for whom it was said she showed more affection than for any of her other children. She was altogether low and depressed in spirits, and Louis came every day to see and console her.

He was just then living at the hôtel de Nesle, not the great palace opposite the Louvre, but the one afterwards called the hôtel de Soissons, whence he and his daily rides to the hôtel Barbette were known and watched by the men of Burgundy.

HOTEL BARBETTE.

On Wednesday evening, November 23, 1407, Louis and Isabeau were having supper and spending the evening together at the hôtel Barbette. Isabeau was splendidly dressed in long robes and an enormous headdress with horns, covered with jewels. It was only eight o’clock, but the night was dark and all the shops in that quarter were closed. Suddenly a messenger from the King was announced for the Duc d’Orléans, who said that he desired at once to see the Duke, as he had an important matter to speak to him about.

Louis rose, took his leave, and went out. Mounting his mule,[221] he rode carelessly along, swinging his embroidered glove and humming a song as he went. He was only accompanied by two esquires, both riding the same horse, a young German page or esquire, and four or five varlets carrying torches. As they passed a dark corner by a wall close to the house of the Maréchal d’Evreux the horse of the two esquires seems to have been aware of the presence of some men concealed in the darkness, snorted violently, and ran away. The assassins rushed out and assailed the Duke, who, thinking it was a mistake, exclaimed, “I am the Duc d’Orléans,” to which, however, the reply was, “It is you we want.” The two esquires looked round, expecting he was following them, and seeing the struggle, managed to stop their horse, and returned. Louis d’Orléans lay dead on the ground, covered with wounds; his German page, who had defended him to the last, died as they came up, muttering, “Mon maître.” The assassins rode off at full speed, laughing and strewing chaussetrapes, or calthrops, behind them, and setting fire to a house to divert attention from their flight. In a moment cries of alarm resounded on all sides; the street was full of torches; some of the followers of the Duke rushed back to the hôtel Barbette to tell the Queen, who heard the tumult with terror and did not know what was happening.

Félibien says that the murderers came out of a house called Notre Dame, because over the door was an image of our Lady, and that it was opposite that of the Maréchal de Rieux. This house they had hired for the purpose, and had been hidden in it for a fortnight. They were eighteen in number. The wife of a shoemaker said that she opened her window, and looking out into the street, she saw the Duke and his little group of attendants come out of the hôtel Barbette; then the attack of the murderers, the short fight, the fall of the Duke, his page, and another of his followers; and that after all was over a tall man wrapped in a cloak, with a red hood drawn over his face, came out of a house opposite, which had lately been bought by the Duke of Burgundy, and pushing with his foot the body of Orléans, said, “Il est mort, éteignez tous et allons nous en.” She shouted, “Murder! Fire!” out of the window, but they turned with threatening words and ordered her to be silent. The Maréchal de Rieux, a friend and partisan of Louis d’Orléans, hearing the clamour and cries, came out of his hôtel with a torch, and to his horror found him lying dead, with his German page also dead and another of his followers dying; the rest had fled. The body of Louis was carried to the nearest church, and then to that of the Céléstins, and laid in the chapelle d’Orléans, which he had founded.[222]