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Countess Louise d’Angoulême appraised her reflection in the fine Venetian mirror her son, her marvellous François, had given her for her holy days étrenne. Was it not just like him to give her the costliest gift he could find? And who would pay for it? Putting the problem aside, she turned her head this way and that. Were those grey hairs in among her glossy dark blond locks? Did she have crow’s feet fanning from her wide grey eyes? The perfection of the image from this latest invention was perhaps not an advantage to an older woman. Impatiently she put it down.
When would that Agnez arrive? It was unsuitable that a woman of her rank should be kept waiting by a servant girl. She paced once more around the perimeter of her suite’s presence chamber, pausing to stroke each thick Flemish tapestry that absorbed the chill from the stone walls. She reminded herself that she had done very well to parlay King Louis’s favour into this suite of three rooms, despite the overcrowding at the Christmas court. It had taken some effort on her part, but despite Queen Anne’s enmity, she had even charmed the king into furnishing the rooms. When she arrived early in December, she had come accompanied only by her bed and clothes chests.
Louise threw herself into a folding leather chair in front of the hissing fire. The crowned L & A for Louis and Anne emblazoned on the fireplace hood drew her eyes. How the emblem irritated her! When her son was king, she would order those initials replaced immediately.
A knock rattled the door of her presence chamber. Finally! When her gentleman usher pulled it open, the queen’s maid, Agnez, sidled in. She bobbed a curtsey. “You send for me, Mme Comtesse?” She twisted her hands on her apron.
Louise did not rise. “The court is rife with rumours that the queen is sinking and will not last the month. Be it true?”
Agnez’s chapped lips twitched into a knowing smile, and she gave a jerky nod. “Madame la Reine be mortal ill. She will pass soon, yes?”
Louise nodded. It was as she thought. Queen Anne was dying, and much sooner than anyone had expected — if Agnez’s words proved true. Though there was no reason to doubt her. On past occasions she had earned her pay. But it was too irritating. Queen Anne’s illness was just another difficulty! She still had not approved her daughter’s marriage to Louise’s son. They had been betrothed for years and would be married already, but for Queen Anne’s unrelenting opposition. Not that plain, fat Princess Claude with her ugly limp and mousy hair was the match Louise would have chosen for her magnificent François, but what choice did she have? King Louis was her son’s guardian, and he insisted upon the marriage. Too bad he couldn’t control his stubborn wife — or did not choose to. At least Claude was wealthy, and soon would be richer since she was heiress to the duchy of Brittany when the queen died, and it was just one of Claude’s dower lands.
“Baronne Michelle have been with Madame la Reine all the morning.” Agnez brought a finger to her lips, muffling her words. “She will last but days, yes.”
It took Louise a few seconds to understand Agnez’s mumbled words. When they finally sank in, Louise barely concealed her worry. There would be no wedding if the court was in mourning. “You are certain?”
Agnez’s chin bobbed. “Oh, oui. I scrub the floor, so I hear all.” She frowned. “There was more, yes?”
“Yes?”
“She say—”
“Who said?”
“Madame la Reine say—” The girl fell silent.
“Tell me, child. I will not bite.”
“She do not leave Bretagne to the Princesse Claude. Will leave it to the Princesse Renée.”
“By the shoes of the Blessed Virgin!”
Agnez fell to her knees. “I be s-s-sorry.”
The countess realized she was glaring at the girl. “There, there, wench, calm yourself, you surprised me. That is all. Stand up.” Louise forced herself to speak coolly. She pointed to the ale, “Pour yourself a tankard. Now, what else did the queen say?”
After she took a swallow, Agnez snuffled through her nose. Hands gripping the mug, she said, “You be not angry, Mme Comtesse?”
“Not with you, girl. You have been useful and the more you tell me, the better I will reward you.” That should open her lips. Hopefully, it did not encourage her to embellish her tale.
“You not like it, for sure.”
Louise’s grey eyes snapped. “I do not blame you for the words of others, girl.”
Agnez pushed wisps of greasy hair back under her cap. She spoke in a singsong as if quoting: “Madame la Reine say, ‘The Comtesse d’Angoulême is no more please about the marriage than me. She do not like my daughter and agree to it only to please the king since he powerful and rich... ‘cause she greedy. Let ‘er find out that Bretagne not go to Claude and see how fast she end the betrothal.’” Agnez slowed to a stop.
Louise did not doubt that Agnez had repeated the queen’s words. Though Louise’s face burned, she controlled herself. “Was there more?”
The girl shook her mob-capped head.
Louise stood. “You have done me good service, Agnez. Continue, and there will be more like this.” She tossed her a bag of small coins.
Catching it, Agnez scrambled into a curtsey. “Merci, Mme Comtesse.” She almost ran from the room.
Louise paced the parquet floor for some time before regaining her temper. That the queen was correct about her opinion of Claude and the marriage was irrelevant. That the Queen called Louise avaricious was insulting but unimportant — another example of a rich woman despising a clever one for her lesser means and greater talents. That the queen planned to disinherit Claude of Brittany was unacceptable.
As Louise moved about her rooms, she stopped to caress the soft Flemish tapestries, the glowing frames on the paintings by Botticelli and Raphael, and the tooled leather covers on the books she had taken from the great library. Was Claude worth marrying without Brittany? Her dowry also included Milan — the single richest state in the West. She was the best dowered heiress in Europe. But King Louis had lost Milan, and who knew if he would recover it — or be able to hold it. So, what was it worth? Yet her son valued it more than all Claude’s other domains and was determined to regain her birthright. It was an obsession of his. To Louise it was a chimera, but she would do anything for her son. What made men so eager to fight, to become storied warriors, wasting their wealth and risking maiming and death?
Louise shook her head to rid it of these unwelcome thoughts. As she passed Botticelli’s painting again, she paused to gaze at it. Venus floated to shore on a scallop shell while three Graces danced on the grass nearby. Its perfection usually restored her sense of order. Today it did not work its magic. Why could not the actual world be so orderly? Brittany was too great a prize to permit the queen to bequeath it away from Princess Claude.
* * *
MICHELLE DE SOUBISE stood over the table cluttered with flasks and packets of remedies. When she opened the stoppered bottle of valerian, its woody odour penetrated the close air in Queen Anne’s bedchamber. She measured a dose.
When Michelle put the cup to the queen’s mouth, Anne wrinkled her nose. They eyed each other. She opened her lips and swallowed. “You know I do not like medicine.”
“It is not a medicine, Milady. It is a restorative, to ease your pain.” Michelle’s voice was low and reassuring. Never would she admit to the queen that she gave her medicine. Queen Anne abhorred everything to do with doctors, blaming them for her children’s deaths.
“You always have a pacifying answer.” The queen smiled faintly, though pain lines creased her brow.
Michelle smiled back, repressing her sorrow. It was like pressing her tongue on a chancre to watch over the queen as she weakened and shrank. Although Queen Anne was only thirty-seven, she looked much older. Already her cheeks were sunken, her skin yellow and tight over her cheekbones and jaw. Only her enormous amber eyes fringed with long dark lashes hinted at her once great beauty.
Queen Anne should be in bed, but she would not stay there. A month ago, she had been bustling about, and still refused to admit how ill she was. So, she was resting fully clothed in her favourite armchair, her feet raised on a footstool. She shivered.
Michelle felt the queen’s forehead. It was clammy, despite the heat radiating from the logs crackling in the fireplace of her vast bedchamber. Michelle crossed to the four-poster bed, the heavy canopy dressed in the queen’s colours, to pluck up an ermine coverlet. At least this new part of the Château de Blois was well-sealed from winter’s frigid draughts. The wainscoted walls insulated by the queen’s favourite silk tapestries brightened the space. Returning to her, Michelle draped the soft fur over the queen’s knees. Queen Anne winced.
“Bring those braziers close, Agnez.” When the chambermaid finished the sooty task, Michelle smiled a thank you.
“Stop bustling about, Mme Michelle. Your fussing disturbs me.” The queen sounded querulous, a sign of her ill health.
Michelle sank to a stool beside the queen and smoothed her overskirt over her knees. “Would you like me to read aloud or to write a letter, Mme la Reine? Or...?”
“Not yet.” Queen Anne leaned back and closed her eyes.
As the queen’s dame d’atour, her highest-ranking lady and only real friend, probably even closer than her husband, she was privy to Queen Anne’s deepest secrets. Perhaps only her confessor knew more. So, they both knew she was dying, although the queen had yet to admit it. But she had little time left and many hard decisions to make. Talking about them would help, Michelle thought.
The queen’s voice disrupted Michelle’s brooding. “The king keeps pressing me to agree to a date for Claude’s marriage. Now that she’s turned fifteen — and her monthly flowers have begun — he has become insistent. And after I am gone, I cannot prevent it. But what will I do about Brittany? How can I leave it to Claude when she is betrothed to Duke François?” She turned her head to Michelle, even that small movement sending a flash of pain across her face. “So, what do you advise, my wise friend?”
Michelle puffed out a breath of relief. Here was the opening she had been waiting for. Yet she was irritated, too. Brittany, always Brittany. “Dear friend, although I have waited to say so, it is time to turn your thoughts to your eternal life. Look at all you have already achieved for Brittany. Our homeland is now rich and peaceful. Please trust that our Saviour knows best. Turn your thoughts instead to final matters: the future of your daughter, Renée, the last dispositions you must make of your worldly goods, and your last confession.”
“Do not rush me out of this world, Mme Michelle.” Queen Anne’s voice cut sharp as a rapier. “You may not consider the future of Brittany one of my important final matters. I do.” She straightened in her armchair, flinching again. Michelle guessed that her renes pained her much more than she would admit. “Listen to me.”
Those were the last words she spoke. The next moment she was writhing in agony. Ordering Agnez to bring two men servants to carry her to her bed and send for Dr. Nichel, Michelle managed to get the queen to swallow a dose of willow bark tisane laced with opium.
* * *
AFTER THE QUEEN’S SUDDEN relapse, Michelle sent a page flying to King Louis. By the time he arrived, Queen Anne was sleeping heavily from the dose of pain medicine.
King Louis, face lined with sorrow, stood at the foot of the queen’s bed, staring at his wife’s waxy face. She lay pale as a corpse under her embroidered coverlet.
Michelle touched her forehead. “She experienced an excruciating attack of the renal stone and is still fevered, but less so.”
Queen Anne stirred and began a high-pitched mumble.
This was a worrying symptom. “Agnez, fetch a jug of the filtered, cold water.” Michelle ordered. She poured a measure of clear water into a bowl, set two stoppered bottles on the worktable, added a measure from each to the bowl, and stirred. A fresh herbal aroma cleansed the stale air.
King Louis perched on the edge of the chair. “What are you preparing?” He leaned forward to sniff. “It smells of flowers.”
“It is a mix of lavender oil, spirits of alcohol and pure water — to reduce her fever and freshen her. She will sleep more calmly.”
“From what does she suffer?” King Louis insisted.
Knowing him, she believed he would prefer the truth, She said, “I can list her symptoms, but is not your question: will she recover?”
“I shrink from any hint that she will not, yet....” He squared his thin shoulders. “The unsugared pastille then.” He stared at the floor.
“Her humours are imbalanced. For some time, I have suspected a bilious humour from the sour odours of her urine and breath, signs of a renal disorder. The agony she suffered today suggest stones have lodged in the renal passages. Only our Saviour can give a certain answer, but I know no remedy. My treatment today only served to reduce her pain.”
“Why did you not send for my principal physician to attend her? Is Dr. Loysel not learned?” King Louis sounded like an inquisitor.
“You know Mme la Reine detests physicians. I have been ministering to her since she lost your last child two years past. She is resting quietly now, Sire, as you can see.” Michelle strove not to sound defensive. “Dr. Loysel will bleed her, purge her, and prescribe stinking curatives of bats blood and snake excrement.” She sniffed. “The queen has neither the strength nor the blood for such remedies. My treatment — willow bark tea mixed with a drop of opium — reduces her pain and allows her to sleep.” She picked up her notes from the bedside table and offered him the note pad — leather-bound scraps of vellum held together by string. “I have recorded all my treatments.”
King Louis swallowed and glanced at the notepad. “I must know she is receiving the best... the correct... treatment.”
“To be sure, the queen must have the best care.” Michelle hesitated. People could accuse even noblewomen of witchcraft these days and then torture and burn them at the stake for small acts. Whenever anything went wrong — a failed harvest, a sudden hailstorm, an outbreak of plague — the burnings started. With the queen so ill, Michelle would be safer if an infirmarian attended her. “Princess Renée’s infirmarian, Dr. Nichel, has seen her. But perhaps your Dr. Loysel, should attend her instead.”
King Louis considered. “It is true that my wife blames the doctors for our infants’ deaths. And we both trust you....” He chewed his lower lip. “But I must be sure. She is precious to me.” He leaned over Anne and dabbed away a drop of sweat on her brow.
Michelle said: “Send for him, Sire. Let us hope he knows of cures of which I am unaware.” It was prudent to have him present. It should quell the inevitable rumours.
The king rose, still troubled. “I shall. Although I doubt he.... I have observed that my wife improves most in your care.”
“You are kind, Your Grace. In truth, the queen’s recovery lies in the Lord’s hands.”
****************************************************
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THE IMPORTANCE OF HEIRS
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Acknowledgments
This book has benefitted from the support of many.
Profound gratitude goes to five people.
First, I must thank my mentors and critique partners Roberta Rich, Rachel McMillen, and Emerson Nagel for their inspired advice and many lunches.
My editor, Claire Mulligan, through her encouragement and insightful comments has also helped me lift the level of my writing and to understand what a metaphor is.
And I thank Jenny Q from Historical Fiction Book Covers who stuck with me through many iterations to create another great cover.
These are only a few of the many friends and supporters who have stuck with me to offer comments, feedback and needed corrections along the way. To each one of you, I am truly grateful. Without all of you, this book would not exist.
It goes without saying, but I shall say it anyway, that every error of fact, imagination, grammar and orthography is mine alone.
Glossary
Adoration of the Christ Child—a painting by Josse Lieferinxe, c. 1500, now hanging in the Louvre.
Appanage—is the grant of an estate, title, office or other thing of value to a younger child of a sovereign, who would otherwise have no inheritance under the system of primogeniture. Typically, in France it passed through the male line and when the male line failed, it returned to the royal demesne.
Baldaquin—a ceremonial canopy of state made from the cloth hung above the seat of, or carried over, a personage of standing, as a symbol of authority.
Churched—‘Churching’ refers to purification of the mother in the church and her blessing from the priest one month to 40 days after giving birth after which the woman was permitted to reapppear in the world.
Cloth of estate—a canopy-like arrangement of precious fabric above and behind a throne or dais.
Ego conjúngo vos in matrimónium. In nómine Patris, et Fílii, et Spíritus Sancti. Amen.”—the traditional Latin marriage vow, translated as —By the authority of the Church I ratify and bless the bond of marriage you have contracted. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
Estates General—in France under the Ancien Regime the Estates General was a legislative and consultative assembly of the different classes (or estates) of French subjects. It had a separate assembly for each of the three estates (clergy, nobility and commoners), which were called and dismissed by the king. Some provinces had their own Estates General. Brittany as an independent duchy was one.
Fleur de lys—the fleur-de-lys, translated from French as ‘lily flower’ is a stylized design of either an iris or a lily that is now used purely decoratively as well as symbolically, or it may be "at one and the same time political, dynastic, artistic, emblematic and symbolic", especially in heraldry. It is particularly associated with the ancient regime French monarchy.
Forepart—The placket and matching forepart are separate pieces of expensive and highly decorated material inserted into the opening of the overdress to cover the kirtle, often with matching lower sleeves.
Galette de roi—a large, circular cake made of puff pastry with its crisp, golden top and soft frangipane centre, each crowned with a golden paper crown.] One special galette de roi was set aside because it alone contained the miniature porcelain king and queen that would identify the rulers for the evening.
Garderobe—most commonly a toilet in a medieval building; also, a wardrobe or small storeroom in a medieval building.
Gouverneur/nante—the Governor/ness of the royal children, recruited from the high nobility, oversees the education of the children of the royal couple, including the Dauphin. He or she is sometimes assisted by deputy governors. While the girls remained attached to the Queen's House, it was customary for princes raised by female governors until they were seven to "pass to men" at that age (the age of reason at the time).
Grand Maître de Menus Plaisirs—The Controller of the Menus Plaisirs heard directly from the king what the plans for the king’s personal entertainment were to be set in motion; by long-standing convention, he was a duke; although he was not a professional, it was up to him to determine how to carry out these plans. The Duke in charge of the Menus and Pleasures of the King was an important official of the court.
Hair shirt—a shirt or shift made of rough animal hair worn by ascetics and penitents next to the skin as a penance.
Humours—The humours were part of an ancient theory that held that health came from balance between the bodily liquids. These liquids were termed humours. The Four Humours were liquids within the body—blood, phlegm, yellow bile and black bile.
Italian disease—Syphilis, introduced into Europe in the late 15th century. Its source is unknown, but it became rampant in 1494/95 after the start of the French-Italian wars. Known by various names, in Italy it was called the French disease and in France it was called the Italian disease. There was no known cure, though it was treated with mercury, it raced through the infected individual causing great pain. It was usually fatal.
Landsknecht—a member of a class of mercenary soldiers in the German and other continental armies in the 16th and 17th centuries.
Lauds—early morning, traditionally 3:00 a.m.
Matins—nighttime, traditionally 12:00 a.m.
Michaelmas—September 29, one of the four traditional quarter days, traditionally associated with the end of the harvest and beginning of the fall season.
Monthly flowers—menses or menstrual period.
Mother of maids—a high ranking married woman with the responsibility of the unmarried female courtiers, their conduct and service.
Night rail—the former term for nightgown.
Nones—the ninth hour, traditionally 3:00 p.m.
Prie-dieu—a piece of furniture for use during prayer, consisting of a kneeling surface and a narrow upright front with a rest for the elbows or for books.
Parlement—a provincial appellate court of France, the oldest and most important of which was the Parlement of Paris. Parlements were judicial organizations consisting of a dozen or more appellate judges. They were the courts of final appeal of the judicial system, and wielded power over many areas including taxation. Laws and edicts issued by the Crown were not official until the parlements assented by publishing them. Their members were aristocrats, called nobles of the robe, who had bought or inherited their offices.
Prime—the first hour of daylight, traditionally 6:00 a.m.
Primero—a Renaissance card game that has many similarities to modern day poker.
Sext—noon, traditionally 12:00 p.m.
Scots Guards—was an elite Scottish military unit founded in 1418 to be personal bodyguards to the French monarchy. They were assimilated into the King’s Household and later formed the first company of the Royal Bodyguard. They survived until the end of the Bourbon monarchy.
Terce—the third hour, traditionally 9:00 a.m.
Traboules—from Latin transambulare via vulgar Latin trabulare, meaning "to cross", are a type of secret covered passageways primarily associated with the city of Lyon.
Vespers—sunset, evening, traditionally 6:00 p.m.
Wassail—spiced ale or mulled wine drunk during celebrations for Twelfth Night and Christmas Eve.
Afterword
Appendix 1 — Information About Times
Liturgical [Canonical] Hours
Already well-established by the 9th century in the West, these canonical hours consisted of daily prayer (liturgies) that were also used to refer to the time of day. Though the times changed throughout the day since they followed the hours of sunlight, I have used the following times as a rough guide. Often Lauds and Matins were combined.
Lauds (early morning) 3:00 a.m.
Prime (first hour of daylight) 6:00 a.m.
Terce, (third hour)9:00 a.m.
Sext (noon)12:00 p.m.
Nones (ninth hour) 3:00 p.m.
Vespers (sunset evening) 6:00 p.m.
Compline (end of the day) 9:00 p.m.
Matins (nighttime)12:00 a.m.
Typical Mealtime Hours
In European courts at this time, it was typical that only two meals a day were served in the Great Dining Hall. They were provided to those who had the right to eat at the King’s or Queen’s table.
First meal, about 10: 00 a.m.
Second meal, about 4:00 p.m.
People at court often/usually went to mass before the first meal.
Quarter Days
Lady Day, March 25, the old New Years Day until 1582
Midsummer Day, June 24, Day of Saint John the Baptist
Michaelmas, September 29, Feast of Saint Michael Archangel
Christmas Day, December 25
Major Holy Days
Twelfth Night (6 January) Three Kings Day
Candlemas (2 February) Feast of the Purification of Mary
Ash Wednesday
Easter and Easter Week
Pentecost (Whitsunday) 50 days after Easter Sunday, The Descent of the Holy Spirit
Martinmas (11 November) Feast of Saint Martin of Tours
The Trouble with Dates
Until the adoption of the Gregorian calendar, introduced by Pope Gregory XIII in October 1582 (which occurred at different dates in different countries) the new year started on April 1. That is why those events occurring between January 1 and March 31 are often recorded in different years in different documents. Thus, for example, Anne de Bretagne’s birthday, which fell on January 25, is variously recorded as occurring in 1476 or 1477.
Facts and Fiction
This is a work of historical fiction. Although I have stayed close to the historical facts as I know them, I have made a few conscious deviations for the sake of my novel. However, everything about my character’s motivations, opinions and words is fictional, even when grounded in fact. It is impossible to know how the real people thought or felt, except inasmuch as we are all human.
There is little known about Louise’s life before she became King’s Mother. Even less is recorded about her mother-in-law’s life. Their relationship is fictionalized, although her mother-in-law did live with her and left all she owned to Louise and her children.
The enmity between the de Montfort and the de Rohan is fact as is the de Rohan conspiracy with England. I telescoped the time frame.
Louise’s jealousy of Anne is well known. At its core was Louise’s ambition for her son. Chroniclers of the time do not provide many details so the incidents in my story are mostly fictional, but they seek to capture their on-going and intensifying feud.
Louise’s struggle after her husband’s death to retain her right of guardianship against Louis d’Orléans is well recorded, and they compromised until Louis became king and insisted upon overseeing the upbringing of his dauphin.
Charles’s infidelities, his illnesses and his sudden accidental death are historical. So is Anne’s hysterical shock in reaction and her subsequent recovery and assertion of her rights in Brittany. So are the main events in her relationship with Duke Louis d’Orléans.
If you are curious about particular incidents, email me at keira@keiramorgan.com.
Sources
I have studied this period for many years, and cannot give my exact sources. Here are several books I have used for the novels in this series. I also read regularly the many articles available on-line written by experts in the field.
Gaugain, Lucie, Amboise: Un Château dans la Ville, Presses universitaires François-Rabelais de Tours Presses universitaires de Rennes, 2014.
Le Boterf, Hervé, Anne de Bretagne, Editions France-Empire, Paris, 1976.
Matarasso, Pauline. Queen’s Mate: Three Women of Power in France on the Eve of the Renaissance, Ashgate Publishing Ltd, 2001
Mayer, Dorothy Moulton, The Great Regent: Louise of Savoy 1476 to 1531, Funk & Wagnalls, 1966.
Tanguy, G. Morgane, Anne de Bretagne: Jardins Secrets, Editions Fernand Lanore, Paris, 1991.
For Discussion
TOPICS & QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
1. Anne declares that everything would have been different if she had been a boy. As the story progresses, what do you learn about how it would have been different for her?
2. From the moment Louise saw Anne, she resented her. She said it was Anne’s arrogance What do you think was the real reason?
3. All the women in the book had arranged marriages. Do you think the couples love their partners?
4. Did Anne and Louise have the same goals? What did they want?
5. Anne and Louise each had a weakness that caused them to suffer. What were their weaknesses and how were they different?
6. What kind of power did Charles wield over Anne and why? Did he abuse his power? How did she manage the situation?
7. Why was Brittany so important to Anne?
8. How did you feel about the various women — Anne, Louise, and Jeanne—by the end of the novel?
About the series
The Importance of Sons is the second of Keir a’s published novels. She is writing a four-part series in the Chronicles of the House of Valois. The Importance of Pawns is already available.
Keira welcomes comments and suggestions at her website Keira’s Renaissance Fiction & History [https://www.keiramorgan.com]. Write to her at keira@keiramorgan.com
Follow Keira on her social media sites, on her Goodreads, and Amazon Author pages.
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