The Queen took up her residence in the strong fortress of the Louvre with her children, where she doubtless felt safer than in the hôtel St. Paul, and had herself appointed regent in case of the King’s illness.
The princes were divided between their anger at the murder of Orléans and their fear of Burgundy, but as he was now absent, the Duchesse d’Orléans and her children came to Paris and appealed to the Duc d’Aquitaine and other princes for vengeance on the murderer of their husband and father. The King was just then ill again. As he, when in his mad state, either did not know Isabeau at all, or else was so fierce that she could not go near him without danger to her life, she had ceased to take much trouble about him. In fact, a young girl called Odette had been chosen, with the full consent of the Queen, to be his mistress and constant companion. She seems to have been the only consolation of Charles, who was devoted to her; always listened to her in his most insane moments, and did whatever she told him. She was called by the household and courtiers, “La petite reine.” Their daughter, named Marguérite de Valois, was recognised by the King, and afterwards married to a French noble.
The monk of St. Denis says she was of low origin, and such has been the general opinion; but M. Vallet de Viriville says there is good reason to suppose her to have been the daughter of Odin de Champdivers, a Burgundian gentleman who had a château near Dôle, where, after the death of Charles, she took refuge.[233]
While the Queen and princes were deliberating on the means of punishing Jean Sans-peur, the news of his victorious return from an expedition to Flanders filled them with consternation. The Queen first tried to borrow money to escape with the King and her children, but no one would lend her any. The King, therefore, left Paris with the Duc de Bourbon on the 3rd of November, and went by boat to the Céléstins, and thence to St. Victor with 1,500 men. The Queen, with the Duke and Duchess of Aquitaine,[234] the rest of the children, the Duc de Berry, the Kings of Sicily and Navarre left two days later, went down the Loire to Tours and joined the King. The Duke of Burgundy entered Paris amidst cries of “Noël! Noël!” from the populace.[235]
Valentine Visconti, Duchesse d’Orléans, despairing of getting either justice or vengeance, returned to Blois with her children, and also the little son of Louis d’Orléans and the Dame de Canny, the afterwards famous Dunois, the Bastard of Orléans.
Jean Sans-peur, finding the King, Queen, and royal family all gone, was much disturbed. He resolved to negotiate, and persuaded his brother-in-law, the Comte de Hainault, who was also father-in-law to the King’s second son, to go to Tours for that purpose.
Perhaps what made peace with Burgundy more possible was the death of Valentine Visconti on the 4th of December, at Blois. Overcome with grief, disappointment, and anxiety, her health had given way. She took for her device a chante-pleurs[236] dropping tears, and the motto “Rien ne m’est plus; plus ne m’est rien,” which she had embroidered on the black hangings of her room. She always charged her sons to avenge their father, and pointing to the little Jean (afterwards Dunois), then six years old, she said, “Celui-là m’a été enlevé, il n’y a point d’enfant si bien taillé pour venger la mort de son père.”
As the result of the negotiations an interview was arranged in solemn state in the church of Notre Dame de Chartres. A platform was raised before the great crucifix, all around sat the King, Queen, Kings of Sicily and Navarre, Dukes de Berry and Bourbon, the Cardinal de Bar, the Archbishop of Sens, and all the princes and great nobles. The Duke of Burgundy, with his advocate, then came forward and knelt before the King, the advocate making a speech of which the arrogance was only thinly veiled by the formal respect for the sovereign, ending by asking pardon for the Duke of Burgundy, to which the latter added, “Sire, de ce ie vous prie.” The King was silent, but the Duc de Berry knelt before the Queen, whispering something to her, upon which she rose, and with the Duc d’Aquitaine and the Kings of Sicily and Navarre, knelt and joined in the request, to which he replied, “Nous le voulons et accordons pour l’amour de vous.” The Duke of Burgundy and his advocate then approached the young princes of Orléans, who in deep mourning and with tearful eyes stood behind the King; the advocate saying: “Messeigneurs voici le Duc de Bourgogne qui vous prie qu’il vous plaise oster de vos cœurs la vengeance ou hayne que porriez avoir contre luy pour l’éxcés fait et perpetré en la personne de Monseigneur d’Orléans vostre père et que doresnavant vous demourez et soyez bons amys ensemble;” to which Burgundy added, “et de ce ie vous en prie.” The princes of Orléans, of whom the eldest, the young Duke, was then seventeen, stood in silence, and it was only in obedience to the desire of the King that they reluctantly, and with tears, answered, “Sire, puisqu’il vous plait commander, nous luy accordons sa requeste, et luy pardonnons toute la maleveillance que aurions contre luy car en rien ne voulons désobéir à chose qui soit à vostre plaisir.”[237] Peace was then signed, sealed, and sworn upon the gospels, but in spite of the grandeur and solemnity of the scene and the intense interest and importance of the occasion, the whole thing was a hollow and worthless form. There was no repentance in the heart of Jean Sans-peur, and no forgiveness in those of the sons, friends, and followers of Louis and Valentine d’Orléans. As to the Queen, she was too weak and shallow for any lasting passion or feeling, in which her son the Duc d’Aquitaine closely resembled her. He expressed great anger at the murder of his uncle, and yet he persuaded his father to appoint the Duke of Burgundy his guardian. It is true that at this time he was only twelve years old, but the same vacillating, unreliable character was the despair of his friends and of France during his life. Burgundian one week and Armagnac the next, he, like his mother, was neither to be trusted by friends nor feared by enemies.
The King and Queen returned to Paris in March. All the Queen’s ladies were dressed in white, and there was much feasting at the palaces of the King and Queen, and the hôtels of the nobles and chief burghers.[238]
In June the Princess Michelle was married to the eldest son of the Duke of Burgundy, Philippe, Comte de Charolais, and this marriage turned out very happily, for Michelle, then seventeen years old, was a charming character, like her sisters, and Philippe was in most respects unlike his fierce, unscrupulous father. Gay, kind-hearted, and affectionate, he was known as Philippe-le-Bon, and was adored by his subjects as no other duke had been since all Burgundy mourned for Philippe de Rouvre, the last of the beloved Capétienne house.