The Red Rose of Anjou (8 page)

Margaret sometimes dreamed of marriage and of being the wife of some man whom she would be able to lead to greatness.

That this matter occupied the thoughts of her grandmother was obvious because in spite of the fact that she was becoming increasingly tired Yolande decided that she would go to Court and take Margaret with her. It was only right, she said, that Margaret should visit her aunt and there would always be a welcome for them, she knew.

The preparations for such a visit were lengthy. Margaret must be adequately dressed, and Yolande was constantly reminding her of Court etiquette which Margaret absorbed with ease.

Her grandmother was delighted to see what a success the girl was. It was due to her upbringing and Yolande took the credit for that. Margaret was a handsome girl. A pity she was not a little taller, but she was well made and had an air of daintiness which was appealing and somehow in contrast to her sparkling intelligence which was obvious when she conversed.

Agnès was delighted to see Margaret and her aunt Queen Marie expressed her pleasure too.

‘Now that you are growing up,’ she said, ‘you must be with us more often.’

There was a great deal going on in Court circles at that time. For one thing the English Cardinal Beaufort was there.

‘He has come,’ Yolande told her, ‘to try to arrange peace. He is a wise man, this Cardinal. He knows that to continue the war can ruin his country.’

‘I am sure the King will agree with him,’ said Margaret. ‘In that case this must mean we shall soon have peace.’

‘The Cardinal unfortunately does not represent the whole of English opinion. You have heard of the Duke of Gloucester, brother to King Henry the Fifth and the Duke of Bedford. He is for continuing the war.’

‘Then he must be exceedingly foolish.’

‘I believe he is. He has done great harm to the English cause. He nearly brought about a quarrel between Burgundy and the English.’

‘That would have been a good thing.’

‘For France yes...for England disastrous. However, it is indeed good to see the Cardinal here. He is an extremely cultured man and one, I believe, who serves his country well.’

Margaret was presented to the Cardinal. He appeared to be very interested in her. She talked a little about the affairs of her country and he listened to her with the respect he would have shown to one of the King’s ministers.

He remarked afterwards that the daughter of the King of Naples was a most interesting young lady. Moreover a very good-looking one.

‘I see,’ said her aunt Marie, ‘you have captured the attention of my lord Cardinal. What did you say to him that impressed him so much?’

‘Oh, we talked a little of the war and its effects.’

‘That must have amused him...coming from one who could know very little about it.’

‘Oh, I do know something, Aunt. I have kept my ears open. In any case the Bishop seemed interested in my views.’

The Queen laughed. ‘Well, my dear Margaret, it seems that you are being a success at Court. Your parents would be proud of you, I am sure. I am going to ask your grandmother to allow you to come again soon. You are getting too old to be shut away in the country all your life.’

‘Thank you, my lady,’ said Margaret fervently.

When they returned to Angers life certainly seemed a little dull. Yolande noticed the change in Margaret and commented on it. She was not displeased. The girl was meant to take part in affairs. She had a lively brain. There must be more visits to Court and perhaps someone would be so impressed by her that he would think her a possible wife in spite of the fact that she would have no dowry to speak of.

Yes, Yolande was determined that there should be more visits to Court.

In the summer they went again. It did Yolande good too. She loved to be with Charles and she was delighted by the change in him. She spent a good deal of time with her daughter and with Agnès. The visits were stimulating.

I am glad I have lived long enough to see the coming change,’ she said. ‘France will be great again. If the English had any sense they would get out now.’

‘They would,’ said Charles, ‘if it were not for Gloucester and his faction. I believe Beaufort will succeed though. The English must be tired of paying for a war which is bringing them nothing but defeat. You’ll see. We’ll have peace soon.’

‘What think you of my granddaughter?’ asked Yolande.

‘Margaret? A beauty and she has a sharp wit, too. Do you know I think she is going to be another such as her grandmother and that is the highest compliment I can pay her.’

Yes, the visits to Court were certainly very agreeable.

###

That winter was harsh. The snow came early and was piled high about the walls of the castle. It was difficult to keep warm in spite of the large fires. Yolande seemed to feel the cold more than usual. Perhaps this was because she was no longer able to move about with her usual vigour. There was no doubt that she was ailing.

At the beginning of December she took to her bed. Theophanie was in despair. ‘It is so unlike her,’ she kept saying. She made posset after posset and had them sent up to Yolande’s bedchamber. But Yolande needed more than possets. She had led a very full and energetic life and the plain truth was that it was nearing its end.

On the fourteenth of the month, completely exhausted, she died peacefully in her bed.

The youngest of her sons, the Duke of Maine, arrived at the castle and took charge of the arrangements for her funeral. She had always wanted to be buried with her husband in his tomb which was in front of the high altar in the Cathedral of Angers.

Margaret had little time to think of anything until the ceremony was over and then she had to face the fact that there would be a big change in her life.

Her uncle Charles of Maine discussed the situation with her. She was now thirteen which was considered to be of a certain maturity.

He said: ‘It will be impossible for you to remain here now that your grandmother is dead. I have sent word to your father and I have no doubt we shall soon be hearing of him.’

‘Yes,’ said Margaret. ‘Perhaps my parents will come here now.’

‘It would be wise to,’ replied Charles. ‘I believe the Naples adventure has proved disastrous. You should stay here until we receive definite news from them.’

‘Yes, I shall do that,’ replied Margaret.

The Duke was satisfied. Margaret had been brought up in the right way by her grandmother and would therefore be able to deal with a situation such as this one.

Charles of Maine was right about René’s return. He and Isabelle were already at Marseilles having abandoned the Naples adventure. They would come to Saumur with all speed.

The anticipation of the reunion did a good deal to assuage Margaret’s grief at her grandmother’s death. Indeed it took a long time for her to realize that the old lady had gone. She had been such a dominating character and her household had been run under such disciplined order that it continued working in the same way after she had gone.

Each day Margaret watched for her parents’ arrival and it was not long before their approach was sighted by the watcher in the tower.

Margaret was at the gates of the castle waiting to greet them.

A STOLEN PORTRAIT

The meeting was ecstatic. It was long since Margaret had seen her mother. Eight years, Isabelle reminded her. It was four since her father had been in Anjou.

Although it was such a joyous reunion, René had a sorry story to tell. When he had arrived in Naples he had been warmly welcomed by the people but as soon as his rival, Alfonso of Aragon, had started to invade it became clear that René was no match for him. He had quickly realized that if he wanted to go on living he must get out of Naples. He had no money with which to continue the fight; he hated the war; he had no great desire for the crown. Even his wife Isabelle realized that they were fighting a losing battle.

‘When a Genoese galley was available we took it and were brought back to France, said René. ‘And, my dearest daughter, how glad I am to be with you.’

There was so much to talk about, and family matters were so much more absorbing to René than the quest for a crown. He was titular King of Naples still, even if he could not stay there and win the crown, and Margaret was a Princess, a fact which she knew would be important when the time came to find a bridegroom for her.

Margaret wanted to know so much. How was John now that he was married to Marie de Bourbon? Had they heard how Yolande was faring at the home of her betrothed, Ferri de Vaudémont? When was Louis joining them? It was wonderful to be once more with her parents.

It occurred to Margaret that they could have been together all the time, for what good had any of René’s attempted conquests done them? He was wise perhaps after all. It was only the opinion of the others and the need to submit to the laws of chivalry which had sent him out to fight. If he had obeyed his own inclinations he would have stayed at home, painting, writing music, singing to delighted audiences and building roads and bridges which he had always wanted to do. His great idea was to turn his towns into seats of culture, to which people came from all over the world to see fine paintings and hear good poetry and music.

He had plans for Angers which would need a great deal of reconstruction as would the whole of Anjou when it was finally taken out of the hands of the English.

They went to the castle of Angers and from there to Tarascon for René was also the Count of Provence and he had responsibilities in that part of the country as well as in Anjou.

For a few months Margaret felt she could forget everything but the joy of being united with her parents. But there were sorrows in the world which could not be ignored.

Her brother Louis had died suddenly of dysentery. The news was a shattering blow for they had been planning that he should come and join them.

It was a household of mourning. René became more and more absorbed in his painting. Isabelle decided that it was no use trying to persuade him to set out on any more ventures which would inevitably end in disaster.

Life went on quietly until emissaries from the Duke of Burgundy arrived at the castle.

###

After a long consultation with the messenger from the Duke of Burgundy, René and Isabelle sent for Margaret. This concerned her and she was old enough now to be prepared for what must be inevitable.

That René was uneasy was obvious. Isabelle was less so but then she was always more politically minded than her husband.

‘Margaret my child,’ said René, ‘as you know our visitors have come from the very noble Duke of Burgundy and he has put a certain proposition before us.’

Margaret’s heart began to beat rapidly. She guessed what the proposition must be.

‘The Duke has suggested an alliance which would certainly be good for us.’

She waited for him to go on and he hesitated. He had no desire for such a union. Isabelle might say it would be advantageous and in any case they dared not offend the Duke of Burgundy, but René did not want to see his daughter married to an old man. Margaret should have someone young and beautiful like herself.

He sighed. He must not be foolish. He had been foolish so many times.

‘He suggests that you should give your hand in marriage to his nephew Charles, Count of Nevers.’

‘I see,’ said Margaret.

‘He will be a good husband. He has already proved that to his first wife. It will be good for us to form such a close alliance with the House of Burgundy and the great Duke himself wishes the match to take place. In fact it is he who has proposed it. I think we should rejoice in this. Your marriage has long been a subject which has absorbed your mother and myself. Now here is the solution.’

He was looking at her anxiously, wanting her not to be upset by the proposal. She knew this and she smiled at him reassuringly although she was feeling very uneasy.

She had often thought of marrying, but a middle-aged husband did not fit in with her dreams. She had visualized someone young and handsome, someone who needed her to lean on, someone like her father—clever, charming, pleasant to be with and yet at the same time needing her care. A middle-aged Count, a nephew of great Burgundy, did not fit in with her dreams.

‘It is really a very good match,’ said René.

‘Yes, my lord, I suppose it is.’

‘What an important lady you will be. Countess of Nevers.’

‘I am a Princess already.’

‘A Princess... Yes, your father is a King. It is rather a hollow title but a King nevertheless. They are asking a dowry of fifty thousand livres.’

‘You will never be able to pay that!’ cried Margaret with a hint of relief.

‘Oh, we will think about that when the time comes,’ said René with customary abandon.

So it seemed that Margaret was destined to marry the Count of Nevers.

###

It was a few days later when there was a visitor at the castle of Tarascon. He came with two manservants only. He had ridden far, he said, and craved a bed for the night.

Such travellers were never turned away and this one proved to be an entertaining gentleman.

He was Guy de Champchevrier, a gentleman from Angers. He entertained them as they sat at the table with his stories of the war in which he had served for some years until he had been captured and taken prisoner. He had been held to ransom by an English soldier, Sir John Fastolf. Did they know of him? They would have heard of the Battle of the Herrings outside Orléans. He had been the hero of that little adventure.

‘His one claim to fame,’ said the visitor. ‘Unless the other was capturing Guy de Champchevrier...’

He had been in England for some time and had been at the Court there. He had conversed with the King of England, who had seemed to take a fancy to him. ‘He liked to hear me talk of France,’ he said.

‘And what manner of man is this Henry of England?’ asked René.

‘A good man...very religious. Handsome in a way, though not like the Plantagenet Kings with their long legs and their yellow hair. He does not bluster or swear, nor does he make sport with the women. I would say that first of all Henry of England is a good man.’