My emotions were in a turmoil. I was about to take the most important step in my life and it might well be that soon I should be married to a man whom so far I had never seen. But I had a vivid picture of him in my mind. I saw him as Isabelle had seen him; and again as quite a different person: the wise, shrewd conqueror. Was it possible for a man to change as drastically as he was said to have done? It seemed hardly likely. But surely this rash and frivolous youth of Isabelle’s version could never have conquered France.
Earlier I had been terrified of union with him; now I had to admit to a certain excitement. I wanted desperately to see him, and my fear of what might follow was swallowed up in my excitement.
“Your complexion is good,” my mother said. “You have a lovely soft skin and your eyes are very fine. They are like mine. Your mouth and teeth are good. But your nose, my dear. That comes from your father. The Valois nose. A pity! But it is not too marked in you. You must smile. You look so solemn. You must look interested. I shall expect you to charm him. He is a soldier…no doubt a little rough…and English manners have never had the grace of the French. Never mind, you will act with grace and charm…and if you do that, he will be enchanted. Now, try this.”
It was a gown shaped to my figure, coming up high to the throat. It was discreetly adorned with jewels and there was a strip of ermine down the front. On my head was an arched crown, from which a veil flowed down to my shoulders.
My mother clapped her hands. “That is good,” she said. “Oh, daughter, I have hopes of you.”
I felt a little thrill of pleasure and for once did not recoil when she kissed me.
The meeting was to take place in Pontoise, and a splendidly decorated barge was made ready to take us there.
My father, who, under Odette’s ministrations, had recovered a little, was to accompany us.
“It is necessary that he is there,” said my mother. “As long as he remains quiet, all will be well.”
Close to the river, pavilions had been set up and there were elegant tents made of green velvet decorated with cloth of gold.
As we sailed down the river, I could not stop myself from watching my poor father. I thought, he should not be with us. How did he feel…he who had lived so much of his life in a clouded world…to be sailing down the river to meet the conqueror of his country? His father, the Wise Charles, had left him a prosperous land, a proud kingdom…and under him, it had come to this. He had to look to his daughter to charm the King of England sufficiently for him to accept her as part of the peace terms. It was humiliating…distressing beyond words—and I suffered with him.
My mother looked beautiful in spite of a certain obesity which only seemed to add to her voluptuousness. She was animated and I understood that what she craved most in life was excitement, and the significance of this occasion could not stop her enjoying it.
As for myself, I felt I had left my childhood behind me forever.
We disembarked and, as we approached the royal tent, I saw Henry.
He was very tall and slender; and what struck me most about him was his immense vitality. He was comely enough, with a pleasant oval face. I noticed his long, straight nose. I usually looked at people’s noses, as people do look at the features of others when they are particularly aware of their own. His complexion was fresh and he looked as though he lived much of his life in the open air. He had brown hair and eyes of the same color, very bright and, I noticed with relief, quite gentle, though afterward I learned they could flare into sudden wrath. I was agreeably surprised and I felt great pleasure as his eyes eagerly turned on me and I knew that he was not displeased.
He bowed to my parents and then took my hand and kissed it.
He sat opposite me and, while he talked with my parents and members of the Council, his eyes strayed again and again to me. I lowered mine and he smiled. I was feeling more and more reassured with every moment.
I was disappointed to learn that, in spite of his openly expressed admiration for me, he did not lower his demands.
My mother said: “Let him wait awhile. I know he is enamored of the Princess. He will agree to modify his terms. Give him time.”
He was disappointed, I believe, because my father and his advisers would not capitulate—but he would not give way; and the meeting over, he continued with his campaign throughout Normandy, with alarming results for the French.
I liked to think that he did intend to lower his demands, because he asked for another meeting, but by the time he arrived at Pontoise it was to find the tents had been removed. Only the Duke of Burgundy remained with a few of his men.
Henry said with some rancor: “Cousin, understand that we will have the daughter of your king or we will drive him out of his kingdom.”
The Duke replied: “Sire, you may do so, but before you have succeeded in driving the King and me out of this kingdom, I doubt not you will be heartily tired.”
So in spite of the meeting, it seemed that we had advanced very little.
But my mother did not accept this. She knew men, she said, and a spark had been struck between myself and the King of England, and he was the sort of man who would not rest until he had what he wanted.
I thought a great deal about Henry. At last he was a living person to me. I had seen him, though briefly, but it was enough to show me that he was not the man Isabelle had known.
My life since I had left Poissy had not been a happy one. I lived in fear of my mother. There was a suspicion in my mind, which I could not dispel, that she had poisoned my brother Louis. Of Jean, I was not sure. I knew that she despised my brother Charles. I thought he was safe, though, for there was no son to follow him; so it was to her advantage to keep him alive. I was fond of my father, but I was in a state of perpetual anxiety about his health. I thought of a new life…away from it all, away from the conflicts which had surrounded me since the day of my birth. I thought of Henry as my husband, of myself as Queen of England. I thought of children of my own. Yes, I longed for children.
I had come to the conclusion that I wanted a better life than that which I had hitherto known and that I might find it with Henry. I prayed that these negotiations would not fail. I was no longer a child. The years were slipping by. I was now eighteen years old. For so long I had been told I was to marry Henry. Should I ever do that?
During this uncertain period, there took place one of those events which was to shake the whole of France so violently that, temporarily, even the state of our country was forgotten. My brother Charles, the Dauphin, was under the control of the Armagnacs, and I believed he had now come to terms with his fate and, attempting to prepare himself for the role to come, was eager to make peace with Burgundy.
My father was becoming so feeble that even in his most lucid moments he was unfit to govern; and this must have made Charles feel that he must learn quickly and do his best to bring a stable government to the country.
He had now established himself at Bourges, where a small court had gathered about him. He was very serious, which might have been good had he not been of such a melancholy nature. I knew that he was haunted by the fear that he was illegitimate and therefore had no true claim to the throne. In view of the life our mother had led, it was a doubt which might come to us all. I felt fairly sure of my own parentage. I had my nose to thank for that.
Charles clearly saw that the reason we had fallen so low was the strife between our two great houses and, as he was involved with the Armagnac faction, he renewed his efforts to make peace with Burgundy.
I like to think that my brother was led astray by evil counselors. I cannot believe to this day that he planned what happened. Or if he did, it was because he was convinced that it was for the good of France.