No, the King must look elsewhere for a bride.
Some time ago an alliance with the daughter of Charles of France had been suggested but all thought of such a marriage was abandoned when there was trouble in Papal quarters following the outbreak of the Great Schism. There were two rival Popes, one holding court in Avignon, the other in Rome, each hurling accusations against the other, with threats of excommunication, and Europe was divided, France heading those who supported Clement, and England declaring for Urban.
When Wenceslaus of Bohemia denied his support to Clement this brought about a rift between his country and France with whom he had previously been on very cordial terms. Richard’s ministers then saw an advantage in forming an alliance with the enemies of the King of France. Moreover, before the disagreement Charles had been seeking a match for his son with Bohemia, for Wenceslaus had a marriageable sister.
Urban, in exchange for English support, offered to speak in favour of Richard with Wenceslaus, and the uncle of the prospective bride. Primislaus, Duke of Saxony, came to England ostensibly to discuss the union but in fact to see what kind of country his niece would be marrying into.
He returned to Prague not displeased by what he saw and Richard then decided to send Sir Simon Burley to Prague so that arrangements for the marriage could go ahead; and Wenceslaus sent the Duke of Saxony back to England for the same purpose.
There was mourning in the palace at Prague because the King and Emperor Charles had that day died. He had been a great ruler if not a popular one and at such times there was bound to be change. The new ruler was Wenceslaus, Charles’s son who was young and untried, but he had been brought up to know that he would one day rule. However there were changes in the air and the country’s old allies, the French, were deeply involved in them.
Anne, the young sister of Wenceslaus, wondered what differences there would be. She was only fourteen years old but she had been well educated and being of bright intelligence she was not content to devote herself to needlework, distilling herbs and such feminine pursuits. Anne liked to know what was happening in the world and as she had said to her women, it could well concern her for she was informed enough to know that when the time came she would be used as a bargaining counter in a match to seal some alliance.
‘It is certain to be the son of the King of France,’ she often said. ‘My father told me that the King of France had put out feelers for a match.’
Well, of course, it was a good proposition. She was not so foolish as to think she would be allowed to stay in her own country all her life, and she was calmly prepared.
She was by no means a beauty; but she had the freshness of youth and her long golden hair was attractive. The horned head-dress which was so fashionable in Bohemia suited her. The width of it with the horns sticking out at either side helped to widen her high forehead which was rather narrow; and her bright expression of interest in everything around her gave a vitality to her face which made up for the lack of conventional good looks.
She knew well that her father was not loved by the Germans and that he had been elected as their Emperor only because no one else was available. But it was quickly realised that he was a good and energetic ruler and as he had always made a point of being on excellent terms with the Papacy he had induced Innocent VI to bestow the Golden Bull which had settled the constitution of the Roman Germanic Empire for as long as it should exist, which was a great and beneficial achievement.
Her grandfather had been blind. He had died on the field at Crécy – fighting on the side of the French of course. The French had always been their allies and that was why it seemed almost certain to Anne that she would be given in marriage to the son of the King of that country.
All through her childhood Anne had heard stories of her grandfather – the epitome of chivalry … the great knight, who although blind had still insisted on going into battle led by his squires one on either side of him. He had fought gallantly at Crécy for his brother-in-law Philip of Valois against the enemy, the English who were trying to usurp the throne of France, and when he had died there he had been honoured by the Black Prince who had attached his ostrich plumes to his helmet and declared they were the greatest trophy of the day.
And then her father had come to the throne and now it was his turn to die.
Nothing seemed stable except friendship with France and loyalty to the Pope.
She was growing up. Fourteen was not very old – but neither was it young and princesses were not allowed to stay long unmarried.
Since her father’s death, her mother, who had been her father’s fourth wife, often talked to her seeming to forget as many did the youth of her daughter. Anne was pleased that this should be so. She hated to be treated as a child and she was as able to understand the course of State affairs as well as many older people.
So with her mother she had often discussed the Court of France, as it had seemed clear to them both in those days that would be her final destination.
But it seemed there was nothing in life which could be relied on. It was her mother who first told her of the growing strife in Papal circles. This was the beginning of a great schism. There were two Popes – one had now moved to Avignon and one was in Rome. Clement had been set up by the French but the King of Bohemia supported Urban.
It was impossible to have two Popes. It seemed that the French wanted a Pope who would work for them. This was unthinkable.
‘It seems,’ said Anne gravely, ‘that we shall no longer be friends with the French. An issue such as this must certainly make differences between us.’
‘You are right, my daughter,’ said her mother.
They looked at each other steadily assessing what it would mean.
It was not long before it became clear.
Wenceslaus sent for his sister.
‘You know of this trouble concerning the Pope,’ he said. ‘Our old allies are against us, and any alliance with them would now be out of the question.’
‘I understand that,’ said Anne.
‘We must stand beside our allies. Germany and Flanders are firmly with us. I am very anxious that England should be also.’
Anne had heard a little about England. The ageing King had recently died, rather sadly it seemed for he had been one of the great heroes of the age. His fame had spread far and wide; but then he had grown old and senile, some said. He had taken a low woman and set her up in such a manner as to lose the respect of all those around him. His son, the Black Prince, who had taken her grandfather’s plumes at Crécy and done him honour there, and who was at that time considered the most chivalrous knight in the world, was dead. There was a new King, the grandson of Edward. He was young – a year younger than she herself. Yes, she knew something of England.
It was clear to Anne what was coming. For what other reason should her brother need to tell her he was seeking English friendship.
‘The young King is very handsome. He is near your age. I think the English would welcome a match.’
Anne lowered her head.
Such was the fate of princesses.
An embassy had arrived in Prague. It was led by Sir Simon Burley and Sir Thomas Holland, and the purpose of this embassy was to ask for the hand of the Princess Anne for the King of England.
Anne immediately liked Sir Simon. There was something honest about him and she found the way he spoke of the King very endearing. Of the younger man who was the King’s half-brother she was not so sure. He was amusing; he had charm; he was good looking, but there was a certain superficiality about him which, young as she was, she sensed.