to these insinuations an accusation far more dangerous than that
of adultery would have been in such a court, the Burgundians asserted
that the king's insanity was produced and continued by the power of
witchcraft; and this accusation, fastened upon Valentine, obtained such
credit that her husband had to remove her from court to a sort of exile
in his own dominions. We find even worse accusations credited by the
unsympathetic Froissart, who reports that she had unwittingly poisoned
her own child in an attempt to poison the dauphin, for "this lady was of
high mind, envious and covetous of the delights and state of this world.
Gladly she would have seen the Duke her husband attain to the crown of
France, she had not cared how."

Through good report and evil report the poor duchess had lived on,
loving her husband and leading a life at least far more regular than
that of the court, though she possessed the Italian love of the artistic
and the beautiful and was very extravagant. The king, now often idiotic
when he was not raving, had been turned completely against her. To amuse
and distract him, and also to strengthen the Burgundian influence, the
Duke of Burgundy provided him with a fair child as playmate and
mistress. To the sway once held by Valentine over Charles there now
succeeded Odette. She was little more than a child, but she became
mistress as well as playfellow of the mad king. Of humble origin (_filia
cujusdam mercatoris equorum_ daughter of a certain horse dealer), she
wears in court history a name better than that she was born to, Odette
de Champdivers; and the people, indulgent of the sin of the mad king,
called her "la petite reine." She was happy, it seems, and kind to the
king, amused him, was loved by him; and, more true to him than was quite
pleasing to the Burgundians, did not play false to France in later years
when Burgundy and England were leagued together, but is said to have
used her influence over the king rather for France than for Burgundy. Of
her we know little more than that she died about 1424, leaving a
daughter whose legitimacy was recognized by Charles VII., and who was
honorably married to a petty gentleman of Poitou.

When the handsome, elegant, but unfaithful Louis was murdered, Valentine
was at Blois with her children; the eldest was but sixteen, old enough
to feel the loss, but not old enough to avenge it. But Valentine
determined to avenge her husband; her grief gave her energy. She