Chapter IX: Jehanne De Laval--“the Lady of the Crest” (1)

I.

There are roses at Christmas as well as at midsummer, and although the pale single blossoms of the winter festival have not the fragrance of the floral queens of the month of May, they are roses all the same. All roses, though, have thorns, or their petals are crinkled and their leaves torn. In the Temple Gardens, as the story goes, once on a time two rival warriors met, and plucked, one a white, and one a red, rose from the bushes. They stuck them in their caps, and so carried them to battle, fierce and long--the deadly Wars of the Roses. The story of the rose heroine of those troubled scenes, the intrepid Queen Margaret, we have learnt; now we must read the narrative of another Queen of Roses, La Demoiselle Jehanne de Laval, and of her nigh fifty-years-old bridegroom, le bon Roy René, a Christmas rose.

“May and December” we call such nuptials. But never mind. The monarch and the maid went very well together, and for them literally came true, “Roses, roses, all the way.” He the great red standard rose of Provence, she the nestling, creeping, sweet wild-rose of Laval, mingled their renown and charm for the pleasure of all ages.

From a Painting by King René, finished by Nicholas de Froment (1475-76) at Aix Cathedral

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Jehanne, or Jeanne, de Laval, “a very beautiful woman and superbly dressed”--this is a succinct and alluring description of one of the most fascinating beauties, as lovely in mind as in body, be it said, who ever took her gracious path across the pages of sentimental biography. Born at the Castle of Auray,--of which now not a stone is standing,--in Brittany, overlooking the tempestuous Atlantic and the Druid fable-land of Carnac-Locmariaker, on November 10, 1433, Jehanne was the fifth child of Guy XIII., Count of Laval, and his wife, Isabelle de Bretagne, whose father was Jean VI., Duke of Brittany, and mother Princess Joanna of France, sister of Charles VII. The House of Laval was very famous in the annals of mediæval France, and linked by auspicious marriages to all the Sovereign Princes of the land. The first Count was a Baron of Charlemagne--a “Guy,” the unalterable prenominate of all the line. Their castle was founded by that King of romance and chivalry, King Arthur, and each succeeding occupant made good his claim to the gilded spurs of knighthood either on a stricken field or in a crusade to Palestine; they were war-lords all. Laval was their principal stronghold, midway between Rennes and Le Mans, where the machicolated donjon of the Seigneurs of La Trémouille, upon its isolated rock, dominates the smiling country-side.

The full title of the lordly Guys was Counts of Laval, Vitré, Gaure, and Montfort--all in Brittany. Count Guy XIII. had ten children by his consort Isabelle: Guy, who succeeded him as Guy XIV.; Pierre, Duke and Archbishop of Reims; Yolande, sponsored by Queen Yolande of Sicily-Anjou, and twice married, last to Charles of Anjou, King René’s brother; Françoise, who only survived her birth fourteen days; Jehanne, or Jeanne; Anne, died in infancy; Artuse, who died unmarried at Marseilles in 1467; Hélène, wife of Jehan de Malestroit, son of the Bishop of Nantes by his mistress, Isabel Kaër; and Louise, who married Edward, Count of Penthièvre. Guy XIII., inconsolable for the loss of the mother of his children, sought comfort in another matrimonial venture, and for his second wife took Françoise, daughter of Jacques de Dinan, Seigneur of Châteaubriant and Grand Butler at the Court of King Charles VI. She bore him three children,--Pierre, François, and Jacques,--so Jehanne was a member of a large and, we may presume, a happy family. Little Jehanne was baptized in the Audience Hall of the Castle of Auray by Amaury de la Motte, Bishop of Vannes.

There is rarely very much to record of the early years of any girl’s life, and Jehanne de Laval was no exception. A maiden was only made conspicuous by an early betrothal, and for that her parents worked assiduously. Jehanne was an exception to the rule of precocious marriages, for no one appears to have claimed her hand and heart until she was past her majority, and suitors probably regarded her as a negligible quantity. Jehanne, however, was not wanting in her _entrée_ upon the world of men and manners, and we make her acquaintance when not more than fourteen years of age, as she comes forward curvetting upon a _blanche haquenée_ at a royal tournament.

This was King René’s Anjou tournament, famous, with those in Lorraine and Provence, as the most brilliant ever seen in France. The “Lists” in the Anjou tournament were held in turn at Angers, Chinon, and Saumur, and it was at the latter gathering of chivalry, in 1446, that every knight and squire, every dame and damsel, turned in amazement as they beheld “a very young girl of most graceful shape and bearing, covered with a thin veil, and wearing silken garments sparkling with precious stones, riding most easily up to the tribune of honour.” The colours of her habit were blue and white--blue, as tender as her eyes; white, fair as her skin. The reins and crupper of her palfrey were decked with ribbons, blue and white, and he bore nodding feathers upon his head-piece. At each side walked her brothers Guy and Pierre, decked, too, in Laval colours, the most good-looking and best dressed of all the pages, holding the horse’s snaffle. By way of suite there rode behind Jehanne de Laval,--for such was the beauteous maiden’s name,--four maids of honour, each one a comely feature of a picture pageant. Amid exclamations of admiration and most pleasant greetings, the charming cavalcade described the circuit of the festival ground, and then its “Queen” leaped lightly to her feet, and, advancing to the royal stand, made curtsies to the Queens of Sicily and France, and to Charles and René, their royal consorts.

Young knights and old came flocking round the “Fairy Queen,” and she, naïve and winsome, cast furtive glances here and there, until her bonnie blue eyes fastened themselves upon the young Count of Nevers, and he delightedly stepped forth to cavalier her to her seat amid the throng of beauty and fair fame upon the ladies’ seats of honour. He was still _a parti_ in spite of his rejection as suitor for the hand of Princess Margaret, and his handsome looks and gallant bearing stood him in good stead where amorous maidens forgathered. King René,--ever susceptible to female charms, both of mind and body,--did not behold the fair Demoiselle de Laval unmoved; he had a tender spot in his great loving heart for any attractive damsel; what healthy-minded man has not? He could not know that that pretty, clever hand, which so skilfully managed her curvetting cob, would one day take his in hers for better, and not for worse!

The coming of young Jehanne de Laval to the tournament at Saumur provided the sensation of the day’s exploits. The highest honour, which the assembled knights before the encounters in the “Lists” began could confer, was hers by universal acclamation. She was to be the lady bearer of the champion’s crest, and, as “Queen of Queens,” to affix the coveted guerdon of victory upon the helm of the most successful knight. This election was preceded by a characteristic observance, true to the pure spirit of chivalry. Each knight had to kneel before an altar for the blessing of his weapons, and for the mental registration of his suffrage for the “Queen.” She was “the lady of his thought.” So, certainly, the beauteous apparition of the young daughter of Guy de Laval caused many a misgiving in the hearts of gallant men. The “Lady” each had chosen none divulged by name, but, all the same, Cupid had done so to the ears of curious friends and foes. The wholesale desertion of their chosen divinities might very well account for hard looks and frowns from emulous maidens:--all we know, is not gold that glitters!

The precious _gage d’amour et de guerre_, the champion’s crest, took the form of a small gold crown, heavily jewelled, from which sprang, retained by wires of gold, three pure white curled feathers of the crested heron. It was awarded to the knight whose bearing in the “Lists” had been the most gallant, and whose victories over adversaries had been most effective, and who had thereby gained the unanimous votes of the tournament judges. Other prizes there were of scarcely less distinction: the first, a golden lance in miniature, to the knight who administered the most brilliant blow and in the shortest time; the second, a rich ruby valued at 1,000 _écus d’or_,--for mounting in his helm,--for the breaker of the most lances; and the third, a pure diamond of a similar value, for him who lasted out the longest before being vanquished by his opponent’s lance.

The “Bringing in the Champion’s Crest” was a remarkably pretty ceremony. The “Queen of Beauty,” attended by two maids of honour, all clad in full state robes, with towering _hennins_, and wearing superb jewels and ornaments, were escorted to a chamber of preparation, within the castle, immediately before the closing banquet of the tournament. There a procession was marshalled; pages of the contestant knights, arrayed in their proper colours and wearing ermine mantles, danced gaily before the “Queen of Beauty,” and knelt as she advanced, bearing the flashing crest upon an embroidered scarf. Pursuivants, heralds, and kings-of-arms, swelled the glittering progress with tabards, wands, and crowns. Masters of the ceremony were in attendance on the “Queen.” All moved with grace and dignity to the banqueting-hall, which they traversed up to the royal daïs, accompanied by attendants bearing great flaring torches and waxen candles. Everybody rose at the entry of the procession, and the Prince of highest rank handed the “Queen” to her special seat, whence she might receive the homage of the knightly company, and bestow upon the champion the crest she bore. Strident music and the blare of brazen horns filled the great hall, and the high-pitched roof re-echoed the plaudits of the company.

The “Grand Prix” was gained neither by King René nor by King Charles. The former, indeed, caused a sensation by appearing in black tournament armour, his shield studded with silver spangles; his lance was black, and his charger caparisoned in a black housing, which trailed the ground. René was mourning still for his good mother, Queen Yolande, and for his second son of promise rare, Louis, Marquis of Pont-à-Mousson. The “Champion of Champions” was not the Count of Nevers,--perhaps to Jehanne’s regret,--but Louis de Beauvau; whilst the second prize fell to Robert de Florigny, and the third to Ferri de Vaudémont. These famous tournaments did not lack the assistance by illustration of painters; Jehannot le Flament,--better known nowadays as Jan van Eyck,--King René’s master at Bar-le-Duc, was in attendance on his royal pupil, and painted at least two considerable pictures of the pageants. Alas! those valuable paintings are lost to us.

Well, the “Lists” were over, and the world and his wife resumed their usual avocations, and Jehanne de Laval went home once more with her parents, to finish her education and to be provided with a husband. And now the chroniclers of such events as matrimony fail us. Very well we might have expected the announcement of the “Fairy Queen’s” betrothal immediately after that famous tournament. But no--and in vain we search for the reason. Jehanne was not espoused. Some have said that Count Guy, seeing King René’s unconcealed admiration for his captivating little daughter, and bearing to his beloved companion in peace and war well-worn confidence, conceived a romantic dream. Queen Isabelle was said to be very delicate. She might die young, and then Jehanne might be René’s solace and his love! Whether the King and the maiden met again and often we do not know. Very likely indeed they did, for Jehanne and Margaret d’Anjou were playmates, and Laval was not so very far from Angers. This is a dream, of course.

There is a touching story which connects Jehanne de Laval with another Margaret--Margaret of Scotland, the virtuous and accomplished spouse of Louis the Dauphin, and a great favourite with King Charles and Queen Marie. The unhappy Princess died of poison at Sarry-le-Château on August 16, 1445--poison administered, it was understood, by her unscrupulous husband. She was only twenty-three years of age, but had been Dauphiness for eight years--years of neglect and cruelty. Among the suite which gathered around the bonnie Scottish Princess were young girls, and of these one was Jehanne de Laval, of whom Margaret made a special pet, and shared with her her meals and leisure. Some candies were given to the children by the Princess, who rejected them as tasting bitter. Margaret, to allay their mistrust, ate a number, and she sickened and died. Her last words were: “A curse on life! Don’t trouble me about it.” This lamentable cry was drawn from her through the false aspersions on her honour raked up against her by her husband. Marriage was indeed a failure to Margaret of Scotland, for “there was no one she dreaded,” says de Commines, “like my lord the Dauphin.”

The next scene wherein Jehanne de Laval is recorded to have been a participant was the obsequies of Queen Isabelle of Sicily-Anjou and Naples. We may, however, be quite certain that she was not absent very far what time that excellent Princess was in Angers attending to the education of her family. They were all of near age to the daughter of Count Guy. Yolande d’Anjou was five years her senior, and Margaret no more than four. Be this as it may, King René, anyhow, was not very much in Anjou; his brain and hands were full of warlike things, and embarrassed by lack of means.

René d’Anjou, King and Duke, the _preux chevalier_ of all the beautiful women in his dominions, did not fail to excite feelings of admiration and of a profounder passion in the pulsating hearts of the amorous women and girls of Genoa. There he was received with acclamations by warrior men, and with kisses by their wives and sweethearts. A foreign Prince, especially if he had gained renown in love and war, was always welcomed enthusiastically by the strong-blooded Ligurians. The customary characteristic offering of the city,--a maiden or two of high birth,--was at the King’s disposal. Their names, alas! have not been recorded, but René showed his appreciation of his host’s magnificent and patriarchal hospitality by despatching, on November 10, 1447, four splendid collars of beaten gold, with medallions of himself, to Tommaso Spinola, Giacomo Fiesco, Tommaso Fregoso, and Francesco Doria, fathers of his _innamorate_. The historians of Genoa all wrote sententiously of the royal visitor: “Every woman, even the poorest, put on a new guise,--pure white raiment,--in compliment to the Holy Maid’s lieutenant, and all wore ornaments of pure gold in token of their love for her, and for him their favour. Tournament, dance, and song, made the city a rare paradise of joy.” The daughters of Genoa,--true daughters of Eve,--ever evoked the encomiums of all, as the following quaint quintet, in perhaps dubious parlance, affirms:

“Le Donne son Santi in Chiesa,
Angele in Istrada,
Diavole in Casa,
Civette alla Finestra,
Gassi alla Porta.”

“Women are Saints in Church,
Angels in the Street,
Devils at Home,
Owls in the Window,
Magpies at the Door.”

On Monday, March 5, 1453, when the Queen’s burial casket was borne under its silken canopy through the streets of Angers, twenty fair daughters of Anjou and the adjoining States strewed white flowers in the way. Their leader was Jehanne de Laval, now grown to womanhood, fresh and sweet. She had loved the lamented Queen, and learned much from her gentle ways and her heroism, and she grieved for the bereavement of King René and his children. Companions in love and comrades in sorrow cling equally to one another, and those who rejoice together in the sunshine compassionate each other in the shade. Pity is the tender veil of Cupid’s favours.

II.

King René’s grief at the untimely death of his devoted spouse completely unstrung the man and disabled the monarch. He gave himself away to tears and melancholy, from which even the embraces of his children failed to rouse him. His Ministers and courtiers viewed the desolation of their Sovereign with sincere and deep concern, for it threatened to unnerve him permanently for the arduous duties of his station. A consultation was held at Angers by the Barons and nobles of Anjou, Maine, Lorraine, Barrois, and Provence, with respect to their beloved Sovereign’s prostration, and a unanimous decision was reached--a second marriage with a young consort, comely, cultivated, and of good fame. A petition was presented to the King praying him to yield to the advice of his “right loyal lieges,” that he should look out for some noble and virtuous “_pucelle qui fust à son gré_.” They add: “We have found just such _une très belle fille nommée Jehanne de Laval_,--wise, well-conditioned, and of adult age,--and we know that she is ready to become the spouse of our very good lord.”

The sorrowful King took heart of grace, acceded to his subjects’ agreeable suggestion, and, knowing well himself all young Jehanne’s charms, despatched forthwith a gallant embassy to his old friend, Count Guy, demanding the hand of his beauteous daughter. Only one bar appeared to stop the course of true love,--for such René’s was for Jehanne,--the disparity of age: he was forty-seven, she twenty-two. This was soon dismissed, and “May” and “December” were betrothed in the August month of ripe red gold. Articles of marriage were signed at Angers on September 3, 1455--by Seigneur de Couldray, Captain of the Guard; Guy de Laval; Louis de Beauvau; the Counts of Vendôme and Tancarville; the Seigneur de Lohere; Raoul de Bosket; and Olivier de Feschal--whereby the bride’s _dot_ was fixed at 40,000 _écus d’or_ (_circa_ £2,000). The marriage ceremony was celebrated at the abbey church of St. Nicholas d’Angers on September 16 by Cardinal de Foix, Archbishop of Arles, in the presence of Bishops and deputations from every part of King René’s dominions. The wedding ceremony was notable for the appearance of the bride’s young brother Pierre, a boy of eleven years of age, habited in full episcopal vestments. He was nominal Archbishop of Reims and Bishop of St. Brieux and St. Malo.

The citizens of Angers received their new Queen “_en grant joye et lyesse_,” but, notwithstanding the general satisfaction, the Court became grave and serious, and, to universal astonishment, there were neither tournaments for the nobles nor junketings for the poorer people. The heart of the King was still sore; he seemed disinclined for festivities, and sought solitude and devotional exercises; his spirit was _acharné_--sad within him. “Had he,” people asked, “renounced the pleasures he so loved for ever?” René found relief from the tension of his feelings in the composition of a moral allegory which he entitled “_Le Mortefiement de Vaine Plaisance_,” which he dedicated to his confessor, Jean Bernard, Bishop of Tours. It is by way of being a dialogue between a soul devoured by love divine and a heart full of earthly vanities. Other _dramatis personæ_ are introduced at intervals: “Fear of God;” “Divine Justice;” “Faith,” “Hope,” and “Sovereign Love,” with “True Contrition.” Midway in the lengthy poem is a “similitude,” accompanied by a very beautiful drawing, showing a Queen,--perhaps Isabelle,--seated open-bosomed in a country waggon, bare-headed, her crown upon her knees. The two horses are tandem-harnessed, the wheeler bestridden by a rider with a thong in hand, the leader turning sharply round. Thus did René’s poetic imagination picture his loss and his woe. The dedication is most touching: “Considering that the course of life runs like a river, without stopping or running back, it is necessary to do good deeds to earn a sweet repose. I set myself to write this book for the love of the Redeemer, but, that my work may be useful for all, I tell in plain speech the conflict of the soul and heart.”

The royal couple left Angers immediately after their marriage, and spent the month’s honeymoon at the Castle of Launay les Saumur. Then they set off for Provence, and reached Arles early in November. This was the prelude to an entirely new course of life which King René had in his mind. For thirty years and more he had courted the smiles of Fortune in the arena of arms, and she had only given him frowns. His courage and his chivalry had met with scant success. Hopes disappointed and finances wasted, he was a wiser if a poorer man; but now the residue of his days and enterprises should be differently expended. Peace has its triumphs as well as war. Poets and writers, troubadours and musicians, artists and craftsmen, farmers and sportsmen, and peasants and fishermen, were peaceful folk; with such would he throw in his lot--a _roi-patron_, a _roi-fainéant_, would he be!

The journey to the south was, as usual, by river barge up the winding sylvan Loire to Roanne, and thence _à portage_ to Valence, and on by water past Montelimart, Orange, and Avignon. The King, like other rulers in France, maintained a fleet of vessels for trade and pleasure upon the splendid waterways. It was, of course, a royal progress such as René and his father and brother, and Queen Yolande, his venerated mother, had often made, and very cordial were the greetings by the way. At Arles, where the King and Queen were rapturously received, they found awaiting them deputations from every considerable place in Provence, each bearing goodly offerings to their liege lord and lady. Arles presented 400 _écus d’or_ in two enamelled gold flasks, and six chased cups of silver; Aix, two great bowls of silver embossed and jewelled, six silver cups, and three goblets of gold; Marseilles, 200 _écus d’or_, to be spent in buying fine wax, at the pleasure of the Queen,--a treasured possession,--and four silver cups; Avignon, twelve enamelled silver cups and two gold goblets; Tarascon, a great gold ewer and six small goblets--and so on. Formalities completed and _Te Deum_ sung, René and Jehanne went off to Aix, there to settle and to arrange their household affairs. In recognition of this auspicious visit to Provence, the King created his consort Countess of Les Baux, with proprietary rights in that ancient stronghold.

The ancient family had become extinct in the comely person of Countess Alix, a helpless girl placed under the guardianship of her uncle, Robert de Beaufort, better known as “_Le Fléau de Provence_,” the leader of a band of ruffians designated “_Les Tards-Venus_.” Fair Alix died unmarried in 1426, and the county of Les Baux passed to Louis III. d’Anjou, King René’s brother. For Jehanne de Laval her loving spouse repaired and decorated the ruinous old castle. The pleasure-grounds were laid out by René, and the “_Pavillon de la Royne Jehanne_” erected, a true “_Pavillon d’Amour_,” wherein he and she could repose and utter sweet nothings to one another, and revive also some of the fascinating observances of the once famous “Court of Love” of Les Baux. Spirits of former Countess-Presidents of Chapters of the Troubadours flitted to and fro the “Chamber of the Rose.” The beauteous if fateful sisters, Étiennette and Douce, gracious spouses of two fierce rival Counts, Raymond des Baux and Berenger de Barcelona, but rivals in the poems and dances of the troubadours, away in the twelfth century, looked down, perhaps, from the eerie thrones in “_Il Paradiso_” upon the new Queen of Beauty. The girlish figure, too, of Cécile des Baux, “_La Passe Rose_,” the fairest beauty of them all, sought, a century later, the spiritual companionship of Alix, the last of the châtelaines, with her to observe the graceful figure of Queen Jehanne. Memories of lovely women and the romances of their lives appealed irresistibly to the royal troubadour; he could picture the gay crowds in the games of Love. Dark deeds, too--the clash of weapons and the stealthy poniard; the smothered cries from the _oubliettes_, and the defiant oaths of men in irons: these the imaginative poet-monarch could most easily re-create. A thought-moving memento of a vivid and lurid past was brought to light not so many years ago in a coffin discovered in the crypt of the ruined church of St. Catherine--it was a woman’s long soft golden hair cut off at the roots. To whom did this _cabelladuro d’or_ belong? Some beauty done to death, perhaps, or peacefully fallen upon sleep in the dim, dim past? Or was it, as it may have been, the _chevelure_ of that beautiful young Italian girl in the suite of Queen Jehanne, who married at Les Baux the Queen’s Seneschal, and died ere ever that day’s curfew sounded? The “_Pavillon de la Royne Jehanne_,” with its miniature dome and delicate frieze, supported on Ionic columns, still stands, but hidden away amid cornstalks and verdure, whilst, alas! nothing whatever remains of the Queen’s gardens, where courtier cavaliers flirted and toyed with her Maids of Honour. Jehanne loved Les Baux almost as much as she did her Laval barony of Beaufort, and René loved it, too, for her sake.

From a Painting by King René. Musée de Cluny, Paris]

Early in the springtide which followed the settlement of the King and Queen in Provence, they sought the peaceful charms of the country-side, and made their way, accompanied by a very limited suite, to the neighbourhood of Tarascon. The stately castle, so lately René’s favourite abode, had little attraction for ruralizing royalty, so they packed themselves into a modest _bastide_, or farmstead, upon the kingly estate, Pertuis, not far from Cadenet, below Mont Lubéron. Its position was delightful, overlooking the turbulent river Durance, with its strewn verdure-grown rocks and boulders, and its banks lined by sedges, willows, and alders, hiding many a still pool of trout. There the royal couple wandered forth hand in hand, quite unattended, amid the growing vines and chestnut woods, conversing with all the country-folk they met, sharing with them their homely fare, and watching delightedly their rural games and dances. Many a time René, with Jehanne as his happy assessor, sat upon old _saules_, or willow stumps, under a spreading tree, to receive requests and discern disputes, dispensing royal justice with the simple hand of equity.

The life they led was an ideal one--a dream, an inspiring fantasy. The songs of birds, the brush of wings of butterflies, the thousand and one mysterious sounds of animated, sun-cheered Nature, and the scent of spring narcissi, with the glowing glories of anemones, seemed all to be in harmony with the fresh greenery of tree and crop, the gambols of young lambs, and the cooing of sweetheart doves. The King and Queen became for the nonce shepherd and shepherdess; Jehanne was nymph of the bosquets, René her impassioned Apollo, his heart’s wounds healed at last, his soul’s new hopes at bud. The Muse of Poetry dwelt also in that pleasant fairy-land, and her voice, rustling the zephyr-moved foliage, reached the poetic nature of the agrestical King, and out of his sympathetic brain came the impulse of the hand which penned one of the most delicate and affecting “Pastorals” that ever man produced.

The scene is laid in the meadows of the royal country house, where shepherds and shepherdesses and toilers in the soil,--vigorous and fair,--are giving themselves away to the joys of pastoral revels. Chancing that way is a pilgrim, newly come from recording his vows at the shrine of Nôtre Dame de Larghet. Looking ahead, the penitent beholds the entrancing vision, and, whilst he brushes away the assiduous attentions of a big bumble-bee, he is conscious of voices murmuring close at hand. It is but the love-chat of a lovelorn lad and lass, seated by a dripping fountain of the rivulet. Behind them is the stump of a great forest king with no more than one lean branch to show its life. The youth vanishes mysteriously, but the girl beckons caressingly to the wandering pilgrim, and she invites him with dulcet voice:

“Regnault, vien environ
De la souche; et nous asseon,
Cy toy et moy!”

“Regnault, come thee near
This tree; have no fear,
Only thee and me!”

The shy wanderer approaches diffidently, and then the maiden opens her little luncheon basket, which hangs from her shoulders by blue silken ribbons, and eats a portion of a roll; to him she offers the remainder. The fascination of the moment overrides all scruples, and Regnault, as she has called him, kneels at his enchantress’s feet, strokes her hands and arms, and protests his love. The damsel is willy-nilly, and naïvely cries: “All fall in love, and all fall out; and so may you, fair sir, for aught I know!” Carried away by the vehemence of his passion, Regnault tries to seize the girl and press his hot lips upon hers, so coral pink; but she evades him, slips from his grasp, and, presto! she has vanished. All dazy-wazy Regnault rises, holds out his hands beseechingly, and then, folding them upon his breast, with bowed head he seeks once more the mountain shrine, and before our sweet Lady of Consolation pours out his heart and his soul. Compline still finds him saying his _Aves_, and Night covers him with her restful shroud; his last words are addressed to his meadow nymph:

“T’ameray très parfaictment,
Du bon du Cuer si loyaument,
Que ne te fauldray nullement
Jusques à mort.”

“I love thee perfectly,
From bottom of my heart;
I will never fail thee
Till death us two shall part.”

This very beautiful poem the royal lover entitled “_Regnault et Jehanneton_,” or “_Les Amours du Bergier et de la Bergeronne_,”--a play, of course, upon his own name and Queen Jehanne’s. At the end of the manuscript René drew a very pretty design--side by side two shields of arms, his and Jehanne’s, united by a royal crown; his supporter, on the left, _une souche_,--the stump of a forest tree,--with one flourishing foliaged branch bearing a censer of burning incense; her supporter, on the right, a chestnut-tree in full flower, and on a branch two royal paroquets--lovebirds!

In 1457 the poet-King put forth an allegory of chivalry which he called “_La Conqueste de Doulce Mercy par le Cuer d’Amour espris_.” The conceit of the story is just a simple knight,--youthful, vigorous, and a true lover of women,--setting forth for the devotion he holds for his mistress to endure perilous adventures. René himself is, of course, the hero of the poem, the intrepid soldier of Naples, the heroic prisoner of Bulgneville.

The opening of the poem reveals “_le Bon Roy_” one night wakeful, and suffering heartache--“_Mortie dormant en resverie_.” It appeared to him that his heart left his breast, and that “_Vif Désire_” whispered gently:

“Si, Doulce Mercy,
Desires de povoir avoir,
Il fault que tu faces devoir
Par la force d’armes l’acquerir.”

“If, True Chivalry,
Thou wouldst have power,
Then thy metal try
And by arms acquire.”

“_Vif Désire_” then armed “_Cuer_” with a blade of steel, keen and bright, a helmet stamped with amorous thoughts bearing the crest of hope, three blooms of “_N’oubliez mye_.” Then led gently forth, he meets “_Franc Vouloir_,” tall and strong, and fully armed for all emergencies; and putting spurs to his charger, he goes off at a gallop with his companions. Over hill and dale they dash, until they come in view of a lovely damsel--

“plaiesante et blonde
Et de tous biens la plus parfaict du monde.”

After passing through a weird forest, they emerge upon a smiling valley, where they behold a sumptuous palace. On approaching, they see a very splendid column of jasper, and after dismounting they read the inscription carved thereon:

“A vous, tous Cuers gentilz et gracieux,
Qui conquérir voulez pour valori mieulx
Du Dieu d’Amour et de vos Dames aussi
Doulce grace et eureuse mercy.
N’ayez en vous changement de pensée
Pour delaissier vos premières amours,
Soiez loyaux sans varier tousjours,
Pitie pur vous ne sera par lasée.”

Whilst pondering over this epithet, a very beautiful woman approaches them, splendidly attired in royal robes, and seizes hold of the reins of “_Franc Vouloir’s_” steed. “_Cuer_” at once turns to her, and, kneeling, kisses her hand and asks her name. “_Douce Éspérance_,” she replies, “and I greet you, worthy gentlemen, and desire to set you on your way.” Directed by this gracious lady, they reach the shores of a great lake or sea, and, moored by the water’s edge, they espy a little sailing vessel, and in it two lovely maidens--“_Fiance_” and “_Actente_”--about whom “_Douce Éspérance_” had spoken. Leaving their mounts to wander free, the travellers board the frail craft, and, presto! they are at the glorious temple of the Isle of Love. The day passes dillydally; they all sup together, and the sweet, soft shadows hide their repose. Other characters are “_Bel Accueil_,” “_Franchise_,” “_Piété_,” “_Faux Semblant_,” and “_Largesse_”; and the allegory ends, as all should do, in the complete victory of Cupid.

The year that Louis XI., by his greed and treachery, drove his noble uncle, “_le Bon Roy René_,” out of Anjou was one of trial and embarrassment for the King of Sicily. At first his feelings, outraged by the infamous behaviour of the son of his best-loved sister, Queen Marie, got the better of his equanimity, and he gave way to indignant protests; but when a man is in his sixties he learns to put up with base affronts. René learned by sad experience to measure hypocrites by their professions, but to leave their castigation to posterity. He accepted philosophically, adverse circumstances as they arose and not only checked the expression of his own sentiments, but discouraged reprisals on the part of his impatient and indignant subjects. With this same restraint the poet-King put forth a sententious drama, which he entitled “_L’Abuzé en Court_”; we may translate it, perhaps, “The Victim of Circumstances.” Its theme may be gauged as follows: Within the shady portal of an ancient church,--the pavement strewn with the persons of the blind and crippled seeking alms,--a pious wayfarer beheld an oldish man whose silken though shabby attire spoke of better days. His doublet was torn and his long poniard broken, his light brown hair streaked with silver strands, and his pouch poorly furnished. The wayfarer speaks kindly to the victim of Providence:

“Mon gentil homme, Dieu vous garde,
Et vous doint ce que déseriez.
Pardonnez moi, je vous en prie,
Et me dictez par courtousie
De vostre vie le renom
Que vous estez et vostre nom.”

“My good fellow, God protect you,
And grant you all that now you desire.
Forgive me fully, now I pray you,
And tell me something of your despair.
By your courtesy I would your name,
And your life’s story and deeds of fame.”

_L’Abuzé_ politely replies:

“Sire! pourquoi le demandez
C’est raison que je vous le dye.
J’ay nom sans que riens en mesdye
Le pouvre homme abuzé en court.”

Then he goes on to tell his story--the story of his life’s adversity, a biograph of René’s. In happy days, now past, he had his amours and his ambitions, his military exploits and his acts of peace. Much of his time he had spent unselfishly caring for others, whose weal depleted his purse and embarrassed his affairs until he was forced to settle with his creditors. The narrative is worked out in dialogue by the concourse of many speakers--among them a great lady, “_La Court_”--Providence, and two _demoiselles_ of pity--“_Abuz_”--Wantoncy, and “_Folcuideo_”--Mockery.

The _mise en scène_ varies as the tension, and the vicissitudes of human life are presented under every aspect. The poem is a “morality,” as that term was erstwhile understood.

The end of the whole matter is summed up characteristically as follows:

“J’ay pascience!
Et pour vostre paine et salaire
Y-a-t-il aulcun que y pense?
Pour à voz loyers satisfaire
Que avez vous?
J’ay pascience!”

“Patience is mine!
For your ailing and for your health,
Is there anything for which you pine
Openly to gain, or by your stealth,
What would you?
Patience is mine!”

René and Jehanne went to Provence in 1473 in the guise of fugitives. The Angevines deplored excessively this exile; they loved both King and Queen, and Louis and all his works they hated cordially. René saw no other course to follow. He was heavily cast down by family afflictions. Jean, his noble eldest son, was dead; dead, too, were Charles d’Anjou, his brother, and Nicholas, his dear grandson, and Ferri de Vaudémont. He sought peace and consolation, and Provence and the Provençaux offered both most loyally.

The story of Louis’s perfidy may be shortly told. In 1474 René proclaimed Charles de Maine, his nephew, his heir to Anjou-Provence, regardless of the French King’s presumptions. Louis summoned his uncle to Paris to answer before the Parliament. Something of a compromise was come to, for Louis said he should be content for Charles to be proclaimed Duke and Count, but after him he or his heirs would annex both duchy and county to France.

It had always been the policy of Sovereigns to encourage knight-errantry and tournaments, for the competitors who assembled became lieges of the lord. The names and performances of candidates were inscribed on parchment rolls with gold and enamels; these were read out aloud by tabarded heralds. The champions were escorted in pageants to be decorated by the Queen or Lady President of the “Lists”--a graduation, so to speak, in a world-wide University of chivalry. In 1453 Duke Philippe of Burgundy instituted a very singular festival, “The Pageant of the Pheasant,” in which knights were made to swear for Church and fame. The oath ran as follows: “I _N._ swear before God, my Creator, in the first place; the ever-glorious Mary, His mother; and, lastly, before these ladies of the tournament and the Pheasant, to be a true and Christian knight.” The Pheasant was the emblem of fecundity, the mascot of would-be brides and mothers!

Troubadours and “Courts of Love” were complements of warlike deeds on stricken field or in tilting-joust. The Provençal seigneurs and their ladies lived in lonely castles, with nothing on earth to do. Provence was the cradle of the troubadours. Every troubadour had to choose the lady of his passion; she might return it or not, as she chose. It was Guillaume de Poitou, a very famous troubadour, who gave the maxim: “If you propose a game of love, I am not too foolish to refuse, but I shall choose the side that is the best.” All this appealed to King René, and his bent fell in distinctly with that of the famous troubadours of the past. His poetic and sentimental nature found reflective expression in the old “_Magali_,” of the popular melodies of Provence:

“O Magali ma tant amado,
Mete la tête au fenestroun,
Esecuto un pan aguesto subado
De Tambourine, de Viouloun
Esplein estello paramount,
L’Auro os tournado
Mailes estello paliran
Quand te verraut.”

This was the spirit of the life to which King René introduced his young and beauteous consort--a romantic existence which appealed forcibly to the sweet instincts of the royal bride. Her response was the joy of René’s heart; if denied the fruit of sexual love, he and she were productive of the issue of kindred souls. They lived for one another in an elysium of bliss, chaste and unalloyed, with no qualms of conscience and no aftermath of reproach.

René’s love of Jehanne became a passion; her freshness and animation and the evenness of her disposition were to him like so many springs of invigorating water, whence, quaffing, he ever rose to new activities. She became the inspirer of his poetry, the spur in his official duties, and the pivot of his benevolence. He was never tired of extolling her virtues in prose and verse, nor of painting her in miniature and in large. It was said that he always carried about with him wherever he went her portrait, which he himself painted upon a small oval piece of walnut wood let into a locket frame of chiselled gold and enamel. More than this, his most treasured trophy of the “Lists”--the lance with which he unseated Charles VII. at the nuptial tournament for Queen Marguerite d’Anjou--contained an orifice wherein he inserted another likeness of “_la bonne Jehanne_.” In the inventory of his garderobe at Angers Castle we read: “_Item, Ung bois de lance creux, ou il y a dedans un rollet de parchemin, auquel c’est dedans la portraicture de la Royne de Sicile._”[A]

[A] “Item, A hollow lance pole wherein there is a roll of
parchment upon which is a portrait of the Queen of Sicily.”

The _Comptes de Roi René_, filling very many folios, wherein are noted household, State, and private expenses and other correlative matters, were stored in the _Chambre des Comptes_ which René caused to be built at Angers Castle. A suite of apartments facing the river was used for the transaction of business matters and for the deposit of valuable documents. Here, too, was the King’s council-chamber, whilst in the gardens stretching in front along the river-side were cages and caves, wherein were kept many lions and strange beasts the collection of which became a royal hobby. Beyond the spacious buildings at the centre of the gardens was a pavilion which René used as a study and a sanctum, wherein he spent much of his leisure time dreaming, reading, and writing. Here he kept a register of artists and artisans, noting their several qualifications, their works, and their honorariums and salaries. He had a sort of school of architect-surveyors who, under his personal direction, prepared plans and projections of all the works, public and private, in which he was interested--markets, bridges, fountains, cottages, etc.

A work at Angers in which he took the greatest interest, and on which he lavished large sums of money, was the erection and decoration of a chapel within the Cathedral of St. Maurice, which he dedicated to the ever-blessed memory of St. Bernardin, his cherished friend and confessor.

Giovanni della Porta was born at Massa di Carrara at the close of 1384. He took the cord and cowl of St. Francis d’Assisi, and was sent with other brethren of the Order to evangelize the people of Marseilles. He became attached to the household of King Louis II., René’s father, and thus an intimacy sprang up between the two. He accompanied René on all his expeditions to Italy, and remained in priestly attendance upon him when at home. The good man died of fever at Aquila in Calabria in 1449, and René, ever grateful to his mentor and spiritual father, in 1450 prevailed upon Pope Nicholas V. to order his canonization. Certain miracles said to have been wrought at his tomb in Southern Italy, and weird happenings as his body was translated to Anjou, convinced the Curia of his sanctity. His memorial chapel at Angers was a sumptuous erection, and in its adornment the King took an active part, painting the glass windows and the altar and its reredos. Before the resting-place of the dead saint’s corpse René directed a funeral chamber to be made, wherein he subsequently ordered by his will that his heart should be deposited. This was an action truly characteristic of “_le bon Roy_.” He had so often unburdened himself to the saint, and from him had obtained not only absolution, but direction, that their two hearts beat in accord in life, and in death they were also joined.

Not only did the heart of René rest near St. Bernardin, but the hearts also,--each in its golden casket,--of Jehanne and the valiant and chivalrous Jean de Calabria, René’s eldest son.

King René and Queen Jehanne were pious folk indeed. At Marseilles, at Tarascon, and at Aix itself, they assisted humbly at Church festivals, processions, and pilgrimages. The lives and loves of the humble home at Bethany in Palestine, transhipped to the reverent shores of tuneful Provence, kindled the affection and the reverence of one and all. The feasts of “_Les Maries_,” St. Marthe de Tarasque, and of St. Maximin, good Lazarus’s disciple, were honoured by enthusiastic annual devotions. No one tired of hearing of those saintly lives, and no sacrifice was too great to show the heart’s devotion. King René and his consort’s offerings took the form of costly reliquaries in gold, enamels, and jewels, depositories upon high-altars for holy relics. The royal couple assisted at the translation of St. Martha’s relics to Tarascon, May 10, 1458. In 1461 from Aix went a splendid casket to the collegiate church of St. George at Nancy, in pious memory of that redoubtable warrior and of the gentle Isabelle de Lorraine. It was intended for the encasement of a thigh-bone of the Knight of Cappadocia. The King and Queen in 1473 presented another precious reliquary to the Church of St. Nicholas du Port at Angers, and with it they bestowed upon the clergy the unique gift of an arm and a hand of the saint. Twelve leagues from Aix is the curious little town of St. Maximin, where, in the thirteenth-century church,--built by Charles II. of Naples and Provence, ancestor of Queen Giovanna II.,--are preserved the sacred bones of St. Mary Magdalen. The skull, it is said, has still a small fragment of flesh adhering where Christ touched her forehead. Here, too, the kingly couple bestowed a golden reliquary for the saint’s right arm and founded a perpetual Mass. This sad saint of Christ, the repentant one, ever had great influence with René and his royal consort. Not content with listening to her sweet voice,--perhaps an imagination, after all,--in the streets of Marseilles (as the King himself has depicted), in a beauteous retreat near Angers he fixed a sweet shrine, La Baumette, or Bausome, near Reculée, where he founded a hermitage, “La Madeleine de St. Baumette.” This was partly in honour of “St. Baume,” as the Magdalen, the patroness of Provence was familiarly called. In the chapel the King painted a picture of St. Bernardin hearing confession--perhaps his own.

If René had lost the crown of Naples, another crown was shortly laid at his feet. In 1469 the Grand Council of Barcelona rejected Juan II. as King of Catalonia. He was brother of Alfonso V., René’s rival and conqueror in Naples, but unpopular and blind, and somewhat unready. His wife, the courageous Queen Blanche of Navarre, had taken his place in line of battle, and was enthusiastically beloved by the Catalonians; she died, unhappily, in 1468, of a cancer or of poison, so it was rumoured, and with her died the love of Juan’s subjects. The vacant throne was offered with one accord to King René of Sicily-Anjou, the son of the beloved and venerated Princess Yolanda,--who had been brought up at Barcelona,--the only child of old King Juan I. René, in accepting the graceful tribute to his dear mother’s claim and person, placed his son Jean de Calabria in the hands of the Catalonians, and begged them,--his own age being far advanced, and his son in his prime and a famous warrior,--to proclaim him in his stead. Jean was acclaimed generally, and hastened to Barcelona to assume his crown, being backed by Louis XI. with a money subsidy and a strong force of men. The landing of the new King was a scene of uproarious rejoicing. His princely qualities appealed to them, and his grandmother had been their own Princess. People struggled to embrace his knees as he rode to the castle; they kissed the harness of his charger, and ladies tossed valuable rings and jewellery with their flowers and their kisses sweet.

A Triptych at Aix Cathedral. Portraits of King René and Queen Jehanne.

Designed by King René, finished by Nicholas de Froment]

Alas for the joys of nations and of individuals! when things are rosiest, and all tend to good and peace and prosperity, there swoops down the insatiable mower with his scythe, to garner what men can least well spare. King Juan III. of Catalonia and Calabria had not been installed in the kingdom of his grandmother more than one short year, when he fell ill of plague or poison,--the two fellest foes to Sovereigns then,--and died at Barcelona on December 13, 1470. He had fought for his father’s cause and his own right nobly in Italy, defeating Ferdinand d’Aragon, Alfonso’s son, at Sarno in 1460, but, beaten at Troia, he fled to Ischia.

The Castle of Beaufort was built upon a lofty rock rising above the Loire, overlooking the whole of that fertile and lovely valley; from its battlements both Angers and Saumur were visible. King René purchased it and its estate in 1469 for 30,000 gold crowns, and assigned it as part of Queen Jehanne’s fortune. After the King’s death and burial, and when she had taken a sad and affectionate farewell of her devoted people in Provence, the royal widow settled down in this attractive residence, and there spent the residue of her life. The _Comptes_ contain many items for building materials, decoration, and furniture, showing King René’s anxiety to make his dear wife’s bijou residence a very real pleasaunce for her.

René indeed was a master-builder, not merely in the way of a hobby, but practically and in many places. He studied the works of Leon Battista Alberti and other famous architects, and entertained and employed numbers of Italian sculptors. Pietro da Milano was one of these; he was engaged principally in Barrois, and there added the duties of director of revels to his other artistic occupations. Marble busts of René and Jehanne, of Queen Margaret of England and her unhappy son Edward, Prince of Wales, of Ferri de Vaudémont and Yolande, with their young son René, and many others, found expression under Pietro’s skilful chisel. In the “_Farce des Pastoureaux_,” acted at the Palace of Bar-le-Duc in August, 1463, King René provided costly dresses for his clever little namesake grandson, then twelve years old, and for the rest of the juvenile cast; these were made by Noel Bontault, after Pietro da Milano’s designs. The King and his Court were then in residence at the Castle of Louppy, which he had repaired along with the castles of Clermont en Argonne, de Koeurs, and Bonconville, and where he received and comforted his miserable daughter, the heroic consort of Henry VI. Queen Jehanne’s ministrations to the forlorn Queen were tenderly rendered and gratefully received. She is credited with the characteristically graceful acts of reclothing the fugitive, and according to Queen Margaret precedence and homage. King René’s handiwork in all these enterprises was varied and extensive. He painted the windows, he carved the escutcheons of arms, and he fashioned the hinges and locks of the doors. The _Comptes_ prove by very many entries his royal excellence as a craftsman as well as an artist. Scarcely a church in Barrois, Lorraine, Anjou, and Provence, but bore evidence of the kingly artistry. Perhaps his two specialities were glass working and decorating, and wool and silk weaving and embroidery.

One of the most admirable works of the King and Queen,--for Jehanne was not only the amanuensis of her husband, but his inspirer also,--was the conception and the elaboration of the procession of the “_Fête Dieu_” and “_Les Jeux de la Tarasque_.” This pageant originated in the mind of René when, as a youth, he witnessed with emotion in 1427, at Bar-le-Duc, “_La Mystère de la Passion_,” under the direction of Conrad Bayer, Bishop of Metz. Thirty years of war and travel did not banish the impression the young Christian warrior gained, and from time to time in Anjou and elsewhere he composed _rondeaux_, _ballades_, and _chansons_, in a masque or mystery which he called “_Le Roy Avenir_.” In 1474 the King and Queen assisted at Aix at the first rendition of “_Les Jeux de la Fête Dieu_.” This was preceded by “_La Procession du Sacré_”--the Procession of the Sacred Host. All the clergy, nobles, troubadours, pretty women, and gallant knights, of Provence assisted, and all the trade corporations took part. Everybody in the procession carried upon the tip of a white wand a piece of _pain béni_. Each section of the cortège was a moving spectacle or pageant. The first section, by acclamation, exhibited “_Lon Grand Juée deis Diables_”--the Grand Play of the Devils. The devils were black and red and green, and every youth’s ambition was to figure as a Prince of Darkness; indeed, in later times a young fellow based his claim to be a devil on the fact that his father and all his ancestors had been devils, so “_c’est pourquoi ne le serrais je pas!_”

To “the Devils” succeeded “the Magi,” “the Innocents of Bethlehem,” “the Apostles,” “the Queen of Sheba and Solomon,” and other _tableaux movants_ from Scriptural sources. Most amusing were “The Play of the Jews,” represented by human cats--a reference to the features characteristic of the race; “_Les Chevaux fringants_,” hobby-horses played by four-and-twenty children, dressed as knights of the “Lists”; a masque of morris-dancers. The two last spectacles were lugubrious: “The Company of Lepers” and “The March of Death.”

The revels filled five whole days in and out of church, through and through the streets and squares, and out into the open pleasure-grounds. Prizes were awarded, honours bestowed, and profits made, and everybody was the better for the prodigality of “_le bon Roy_” and the graciousness of “_la bonne Royne_.”