The Maid and the Queen (36 page)

In this congenial atmosphere, which could easily have been mistaken for a joyous family reunion rather than a serious political conference, the duke of Burgundy at last overcame his aversion to treating with his father’s killer, and allowed himself to be munificently bribed. In exchange for formally abandoning England and allying with Charles, Philip got 50,000 gold crowns, payable on signing of the peace treaty. He was allowed to keep all the territory he had already been given by the English, and the French ambassadors even threw in some new property, including the lucrative Somme towns and the county of Ponthieu (although these could be redeemed in the future by Charles for 400,000 gold crowns). Charles would issue a formal apology acknowledging any emotional hardship the duke of Burgundy might have suffered as a result of the murder of his father, and although Philip would officially recognize Charles as the legitimate sovereign of France and become his vassal once again, in deference to any lingering sensitivity he was absolved during his lifetime from having to do personal obeisance to the king.
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(The duke of Burgundy’s heirs would, however, have to pay homage to future kings of France.)

Portrait of Philip the Good.

Nor was the Burgundian architect of this peace forgotten. On July 6, 1435, Charles VII wrote from his castle in Amboise to Nicolas Rolin and others on Philip the Good’s council: “Charles, by the grace of God, king of France, greetings to all those who see these letters. Be it known that we, having heard on good authority… of the good will and affection which Nicolas Rolin, knight… and chancellor [of Burgundy] and the lords of Croy, Charny and Baucignies, councilors and chamberlains of our cousin of Burgundy, and other servants of his, cherish for the reconciliation and reunion of us and our cousin… bearing in mind that this peace and reconciliation is more likely to be brought about by our cousin’s leading confidential advisers, in whom he places his trust, than by others of his entourage… we grant and have granted by these present letters the sum of 60,000 gold saluts… to divide between them as follows: To the said Nicolas Rolin, 10,000 saluts, to the said lord of Croy, likewise… to the said lord of Charny, 8,000 [saluts]… to the lord of Baucignies, 8,000.”

After the agreement of Nevers, there remained only the uncomfortable task of Philip’s informing the unsuspecting English that, alas, he was no
longer their ally. Sensitive to the charge that his behavior might be construed as falling somewhat short of the cherished chivalric ideal of honor—Philip was, after all, secretly conspiring with Charles VII while still pretending to remain faithful to his sworn oath to support Henry VI—to save face the duke of Burgundy insisted that Charles at least try to make peace with England by calling for a general conference, at which all sides would be present, to be mediated by representatives of the Church. He even offered to host the event, and it was decided, before everyone left Nevers, to issue an invitation to the English to meet later in the year in Arras. “Within a few days many councils were held respecting a peace between the king of France and the duke of Burgundy; and various proposals were made to the duke concerning the murder of the late duke John that were agreeable to him, insomuch that preliminaries were agreed on, and a day appointed for a convention at Arras to put a final conclusion on it,” reported Enguerrand de Monstrelet. “When this was done, they separated most amicably; and news of this event was published throughout the realm, and other countries: notice of it was sent to the pope and the council at Basel, that all persons who chose might order ambassadors to attend the convention at Arras.”

T
HE CONGRESS OF ARRAS,
universally recognized as the turning point of the Hundred Years War, began in August 1435. It was a grand affair, as opulent and illustrious as the great wealth of its sponsor, the duke of Burgundy (whose estate had recently been given a significant boost by his secret deal with the French), could provide. The three participating nations—France, England, and Burgundy—all sent multiple ambassadors accompanied by impressively large, resplendent entourages, so that the total number of emissaries, including bureaucrats, secretaries, servants, and other minions associated with each embassy, reached nearly a thousand people apiece. The French delegation, headed by Philip’s brother-in-law the duke of Bourbon, was composed of the leading members of the royal council: Regnault of Chartres, Arthur of Richemont, and the count of Vendôme, among others. Although she did not herself attend, Yolande maintained her influence over these proceedings through her servant, the treasurer of Anjou, who was one of the principal negotiators for the French. The queen of Sicily also sent separate representatives charged with protecting her specific interests and those of her family.

The English, who had been kept deliberately uninformed of the earlier conference at Nevers, and who were consequently surprised by the invitation to attend a general peace summit, had to scramble to come up with a sufficiently prestigious deputation. They at first asked Philip the Good to lead their embassy, but the duke of Burgundy, for reasons that would become obvious to his former allies only later, delicately declined to undertake this responsibility. The duke of Bedford, seriously ill in Rouen, was unable to attend, so the English ended up with Cardinal Henry Beaufort (Henry VI’s great-uncle and one of the most influential men in the government) and the archbishop of York as its lead negotiators instead. However, as it was important to demonstrate that Henry VI was the legitimate king of both England
and
France, a number of Frenchmen were included as principal envoys as well. These were more difficult to find, as many of the regency’s formerly loyal subjects, sensing the change in mood, had already defected to Charles VII. But there were still a number who, as a result of the salaries paid them, could be relied upon, and of these the most prominent was none other than Pierre Cauchon. Subsequent to his successful prosecution of Joan of Arc, Cauchon had received the consolation prize of the bishopric of Lisieux—not quite so prestigious a posting as archbishop of Rouen, for which he had initially hoped, but a profitable benefice nonetheless. So enthusiastic a collaborator was he that when the archbishop of York fell ill early in the proceedings it would be Pierre Cauchon who would speak for the English in their negotiations with the French.

The duke of Burgundy of course brought his own entourage, which included some 115 noblemen and their respective households from throughout his domains. He was not a mediator in this instance—two cardinals and bishops assumed that role—but rather the hospitable provider of lodgings and the master of entertainment, an avocation into which he zealously threw himself. There were succulent feasts and late-night suppers accompanied by music, wine, and dancing, and parties at which were played amusing games of chance; the crowning event was an elaborate tournament, where a pair of knights in magnificent armor jousted for the benefit of spectators. The entire affair was staged exactly as though a brilliant medieval wedding was taking place—which in a sense it was, except that, unbeknownst to the English, one of the suitors was about to get jilted at the altar.

Care was taken by the duke of Burgundy to obscure the true state of his relationship with France. Under the guise of providing due protection—after
all, the French and the English were enemy combatants, and since each delegation had arrived with an armed guard, the possibility that violence might erupt was not inconsequential—the envoys from England and France, and all of their retinues, were housed at a substantial distance from each other. The English were given their lodgings in the center of the city proper, while the French stayed alongside their host in the comfortable village adjacent to Philip the Good’s castle. During the entire length of the congress, the ambassadors from England and France, along with their numerous respective counselors, never met face-to-face but communicated only by presenting their cases and proposals to the mediators, who passed them along to the opposite side and vice versa. The only member of the English delegation ever to venture into the French or Burgundian living space was the duke of Suffolk, who made a ceremonial appearance on the day of the jousting.

While this separation prevented the English from observing the secret meetings between Philip the Good and Arthur of Richemont (which took place nightly), it did not entirely disguise the growing cordiality that existed between the delegations of Burgundy and France. By the end of the second week of August, the English began to notice that their French counterparts heard mass daily with their Burgundian hosts and later made merry, drinking and carousing until the early hours of the morning, and generally behaving like the best of friends, and that Philip the Good showered many marks of affection and courtesy on those who were, at least in theory, his sworn enemies. “The English ambassadors were not well pleased at these entertainments; and from the frequent intercourse that took place between the French and the duke, they suspected some treaties were in agitation that would not be for the advantage of their country,” Enguerrand de Monstrelet reported.

The format for the talks had been established in advance and the conference proceeded according to the agreed-upon routine. On August 12, 1435, Pierre Cauchon presented the first peace proposal on behalf of the English to the mediators in a large room in the abbey of Saint-Vaast that had been assigned for this purpose. The arbitrators took notes, after which the English delegation, having finished its presentation, filed out, the signal for the French embassy, which had been waiting in another room, to file in. The French envoys were then informed of the details of the opposition’s offer by the cardinals and the two bishops. The English overtures were derisively rebuffed; and so it became the turn of the French to put forth a counterproposal, which proposition was duly and laboriously recorded by the
mediators. Then the French filed out, and the English, who had been waiting in another room, filed in, and the whole process began over again.

As the English were unaware that their military and diplomatic position had been seriously undermined at Nevers, and the French were only too cognizant that the balance of power had shifted seriously in their favor and that consequently there was no need for them to concede to any of the enemy’s terms, there was not much overlap between the various proposals. The issue of sovereignty, as might be expected, was particularly divisive. The English held fast to the theory of the double monarchy and insisted that Henry VI be recognized as king of both England and France. They were willing to allow Charles VII to keep his lands south of the Loire, but only if he did homage to Henry VI for them, which meant that Charles would become Henry’s vassal. They absolutely refused to consider surrendering any of the territory currently under occupation, including Normandy, Maine, and Paris, although as a concession they threw out the idea of a marriage between Henry VI and one of Charles’s daughters, the implication being that by joining the two bloodlines the conflict would be resolved when the crown passed to Henry’s progeny.

The French proposals were naturally in diametric opposition to those proffered by the English. The French considered Henry VI to be a mere interloper and demanded that he immediately renounce any pretension to the throne of France, reminding the mediators that this honor had already been conferred upon Charles VII, the legitimate sovereign, by the coronation at Reims. Further, they were adamant that England, which kept a garrison in Paris, must vacate the capital at once. They were reluctantly willing to allow Henry VI to keep his possessions in Normandy, provided he did homage to Charles VII for them, but they preferred to simply pay him to get out, and offered the English 150,000 saluts of gold to leave the kingdom altogether.

As the French conditions were deemed as unsatisfactory to the English as the English propositions had been to the French, the prospects for the signing of a general peace, which had not been particularly promising to begin with, faded altogether in the waning days of August. Despite the best efforts of the mediators, the two sides failed to come to any agreement whatever, and eventually the English lost patience with the enterprise and withdrew from negotiations. According to Enguerrand de Monstrelet, the delegation representing Henry VI left the conference on September 6, 1435, and
returned to England in a bitter mood, “for they had perceived, while at Arras, that great cordiality existed between the duke and the French, which was far from pleasing to them.” The following week, on September 14, in a further harbinger of looming collapse, the indomitable duke of Bedford, who in the thirteen years since the sudden demise of his brother Henry V had held the English occupation of France together, often by sheer force of will as regent, died of his illness in Rouen.

A week after that, on September 21, 1435, timed to fall on Saint Matthew’s Day, at a very grand and solemn ceremony at the abbey of Saint-Vaast attended by the Church mediators and all of the most important officials of both the French and Burgundian delegations, Philip the Good signed a separate peace agreement, known as the Treaty of Arras, with the ambassadors from France and publicly swore to “acknowledge our aforesaid lord king Charles of France as our sovereign lord, in as much as regards the land and lordships we hold in that kingdom, promising for ourself and our heirs on our faith and bodily oath, on the word of a prince, on our honor, and on the loss of our expectations in this world and in that to come, to hold inviolate this treaty of peace.” And just like that every city, town, village, castle, fortress, military unit, vassal, and government official in those territories loyal to the duke of Burgundy, whether high or low, rich or poor, rural or urban, peasant or aristocrat, instantly abandoned his or her allegiance to Henry VI and instead embraced Charles VII as the rightful sovereign.