CHARLES THE BOLD

IV

BURGUNDY AND FRANCE

1455-1456.

The duke's journey failed in accomplishing its object, but it proved an important factor in the development of the character of Charles of Burgundy. The opportunity to administer the government in his father's absence changed him from a youth to a man, and the manner of man he was, was plain to see.

His character was built on singularly simple lines. Vigorous of body, intense of purpose, inclined to melancholy, he was profoundly convinced of his own importance as heir to the greatest duke in Christendom, as future successor to an uncrowned potentate, who could afford to treat lightly the authority of both king and emperor whose nominal vassal he was.

The Ghent episode, too, undoubtedly had an immense effect in enhancing the count's belief in his father's power, in causing him to forget that the communes of Flanders did not owe their existence to their overlord. As yet, Charles of Burgundy had not met a single check to his self-esteem, to his family pride. As a governor, he probably exercised his brief authority with the rigour of one new to the helm.

"And the Count of Charolais bore himself so well and so virtuously in the task, that nothing deteriorated under his hand, and when the good duke returned from his journey, he found his lands as intact as before."

Such, is La Marche's testimony. Intact undoubtedly, but possibly the satisfaction was not quite perfect. Du Clercq declares that Count Charles acquitted himself honourably of his charge and made himself respected as a magistrate. Above all, he insisted that justice should be dealt out to all alike. The only danger in his methods was that he acted on impulse without sufficiently informing himself of the matter in hand, or hearing both sides of a controversy. As a result, his decisions were not always impartial and the father was preferred to the strenuous and impetuous son. "Not that Philip was often inclined to recognise other law than his own will, but he was more tranquil, more gentle than his son, and more guided by reason," adds a later author. There was an evident dread as to what might be the outcome of the count's untrained, youthful ardour.

The duke's chief measures after his return in February, 1455, seemed hardly calculated to arouse any great personal devotion to himself or a profound trust that his first consideration was for the advantage of his Netherland subjects. His thoughts were still turned to the East, and his main interest in the individual countships was as sources of supply for his Holy War. Considerable sums flowed into his exchequer that were never used for their destined purpose, but the duke cannot be justly accused of actual bad faith in amassing them. His intention to make the Eastern campaign remained firm for some years.

In another matter, his despotic exercise of personal authority, far without the pale of his jurisdiction inherited or acquired, shows no shadow of excuse.

In the bishropic of Utrecht the ecclesiastical head was also lay lord. Here the counts of Holland possessed no voice. They were near neighbours, that was all. Philip ardently desired to be more in this tiny independent state in the midst of territories acknowledging his sway.

In 1455, the see of Utrecht became vacant and Philip was most anxious to have it filled by his son David, whom he had already made Bishop of Thérouanne by somewhat questionable methods. The Duke of Guelders also had a neighbourly interest in Utrecht and he, too, had a pet candidate, Stephen of Bavaria, whose election he urged. The chapter resolutely ignored the wishes of both dukes and the canons were almost unanimous in their choice of Gijsbrecht of Brederode.

A very few votes were cast for Stephen of Bavaria, but not a single one for David of Burgundy.

Brederode was already archdeacon of the cathedral and an eminently worthy choice, both for his attainments and for his character. He was proclaimed in the cathedral, installed in the palace, and confirmed, as regarded his temporal power, by the emperor.

Philip, however, refused to accept the returns, although not a single suffrage had been cast by the qualified electors for his son. He despatched the Bishop of Arras to Rome to petition the new pope, Calixtus III., to refuse to ratify the late election and to confer the see upon David, out of hand. Philip's tender conscience found Gijsbrecht ineligible to an episcopal office because he had participated in the war against Ghent, certainly a weak plea in an age of militant bishops!

The pope was afraid to offend the one man in Europe upon whose immediate aid he counted in the Turkish campaign. He accepted the gift of four thousand ducats offered by Gijsbrecht's envoys, the customary gift in asking papal confirmation for a bishop-elect, but secretly he delivered to Philip's ambassador letters patent creating David of Burgundy Bishop of Utrecht.

The Burgundian La Marche states euphemistically that David was elected to the see, and the Deventer people would not obey him, therefore Philip had to levy an army and come in person to support the new bishop. Du Clercq puts a different colour on the story and d'Escouchy implies that the whole trouble arose from party strife which had to be quelled in the interests of law and order.

Apart from any question of insult to the Utrechters by imposing upon them a spiritual director of acknowledged base birth, the right of choice lay with them and the emperor had confirmed their choice as far as the lay office was concerned. While the issue was undecided, the Estates of Utrecht appointed Gijsbrecht guardian and defender of the see to assure him a legal status pending the papal ratification. The people were prepared to support their candidate with arms, a game that Philip did not refuse, and the force of thirty thousand men with which he invaded the bishopric proved the stronger argument of the two and able to carry David of Burgundy to the episcopal throne, upon which he was seated in his father's presence, October 16, 1455.

Some of Philip's allies reaped certain advantages from the situation. Alkmaar and Kennemerland redeemed certain forfeited privileges by means of their contributions to the duke's army. The city of Utrecht preferred a compromise to the risk of war. The bishop-elect, Gijsbrecht, consented to withdraw his claim, being permitted to retain the humbler office of provost of Utrecht and an annuity of four thousand guilders out of the episcopal revenues.

Deventer was the only place which was obstinate enough to persist in her rebellion and Philip was engaged in bringing her citizens to terms by a siege when news was brought to him that a visitor had arrived at Brussels under circumstances which imperatively demanded his personal attention.

In the twenty years that had elapsed since the Treaty of Arras, there had been great changes in France in the character both of the realm and of the ruler. Little by little the latter had proved himself to be a very different person from the inert king of Bourges. Old at twenty, Charles VII. seemed young and vigorous at forty. Bad advisers were replaced by others better chosen and his administration gradually became effective. Fortune favoured him in depriving England of the Duke of Bedford (1435), the one man who might have maintained English prestige abroad and peace at home during the youth of Henry VI. It was at a time of civil dissensions in England, that Charles VII. succeeded in assuming the offensive on the Continent and in wresting Normandy and Guienne from the late invader.

But this territorial advantage was not all. Distinct progress had been made towards a national existence in France. The establishment of the nucleus of a regular army was an immense aid in curbing the depredations of the "écorcheurs," the devastating, marauding bands which had harassed the provinces. There was new activity in agriculture and industry and commerce. The revival of letters and art, never completely stifled, proved the real vitality of France in spite of the depression of the Hundred Years' War. Royal justice was reorganised, public finance was better administered. By 1456, misery had not, indeed, disappeared, but it was less dominant.

The years of growing union between king and his kingdom were, however, years of discord between Charles and his son. The dauphin Louis had not enjoyed the pampered, petted life of his Burgundian cousin. Very poor and forlorn was his father at the time of the birth of his heir (1423). There was nothing in the treasury to pay the chaplain who baptised the child or the woman who nourished him. The latter received no pension as was usual but a modest gratuity of fifteen pounds. The first allowance settled on the heir to his unconsecrated royal father's uncertain fortunes was ten crowns a month. Every feature of his infancy was a marked contrast to the early life of the Count of Charolais.

From his seventeenth year Louis was in active opposition to the king, heading organised rebellion against him in the war called the Praguerie. Finally, Charles VII. entrusted to his charge the administration of Dauphiné, thus practically banishing him honourably from the court where he was, evidently, a disturbing element. The only restrictions placed upon him in his provincial government were such as were necessary to preserve the ultimate authority of the crown. To these restrictions, however, Louis paid not the slightest heed. He assumed all the airs of an independent sovereign. He made wars and treaties with his neighbours and at last proceeded to arrange his own marriage.

At this time Louis was already a widower, having been married at the age of thirteen to Margaret of Scotland, who led a mournful existence at the French court, where she felt herself a desolate alien. Her death at the age of twenty was possibly due to slander. "Fie upon life," she said on her deathbed, when urged to rouse herself to resist the languor into which she was sinking. "Talk to me no more of it."

Her husband cared less for her life than did Margaret herself. He took no interest in the inquiry set on foot to ascertain the truth of the charges against the princess, and was more than ready to turn to a new alliance. At the date of his widowerhood he was in Dauphiné and his own choice for a wife was Charlotte, daughter of the Duke of Savoy. After negotiations in his own behalf he informed his father of his matrimonial project. It did not meet the views of Charles VII., who ordered his son to abandon the idea immediately.

A messenger was despatched post haste to Chambéry to stop the dauphin's nuptials.¹¹ The duke evaded an interview and the envoy was forced to deliver his letter to the chancellor of Savoy. On the morrow of his arrival, he was taken to church, where the wedding ceremony was performed (March 10, 1451), but his seat was in such a remote place that he could barely catch a glimpse of the bridal procession, though he saw that Louis was clad in crimson velvet trimmed with ermine. Two days later the envoy carried a pleasant letter to the king, expressing regrets on the part of the Duke of Savoy that the alliance was made before the paternal prohibition arrived.

Nine years were spent by Louis in Dauphiné. He introduced many administrative and judicial reforms, excellent in themselves but not popular. There were various protests and when he dared to impose taxes without the consent of the Estates, an appeal was made to the king begging him to check his son in his illegal assumptions. Charles summoned his son to his presence. Instead of obeying this order in person, Louis sent envoys who were dismissed by his father with a curt response: "Let my son return to his duty and he shall be treated as a son. As to his fears, security to his person is pledged by my word, which my foes have never refused to accept."

Louis showed himself less compliant than his father's foes. As Charles approached Dauphiné, and made his preparations to enforce obedience, Louis appealed to the mediation of the pope, of the Duke of Burgundy, and of the King of Castile, beside sending offerings to all the chief shrines in Christendom, imploring aid against parental wrath. Then his thoughts took a less peaceful turn. He called the nobles of his principality to arms and bade the fortified towns prepare for siege, while he loftily declared that he would not trouble his father to seek him. He would meet him at Lyons.

Meanwhile, the Count of Dammartin was directed by the king to take military possession of Dauphiné and to put the dauphin under arrest. As he was en route to fulfil these orders, the count heard that a day had been set by Louis for a great hunt. That an excellent opportunity might be afforded for securing his quarry in the course of the chase, was the immediate thought of the king's lieutenant. So there might have been had not the wily hunter received timely warning of the project for making him the game.

At the hour appointed for the meet, the dauphin's suite rode to the rendezvous, but the prince turned his horse in the opposite direction and galloped away at full speed, attended by a few trusty followers. He hardly stopped even to take breath until he was out of his father's domain, and made no pause until he reached St. Claude, a small town in the Franche-Comté, where he threw himself on the kindness of the Prince of Orange.

How gossip about this strange departure of the French heir fluttered here and there! Du Clercq tells the story with some variation from the above outline, laying more stress on the popular appeal to the king for relief from Louis's transgressions as governor of Dauphiné, and enlarging on the accusation that Louis was responsible for the death of La belle Agnès, "the first lady of the land possessing the king's perfect love." He adds that the dauphin was further displeased because the niece of this same Agnes, the Demoiselle de Villeclerc, was kept at court after her aunt's death. Wherever the king went he was followed by this lady, accompanied by a train of beauties. It was this conduct of his father that had forced the son to absent himself from court life for twelve years and more, during which time he received no allowance as was his rightful due, and thus he had been obliged to make his own requisitions from his seigniory.

There were other reports that the king was quite ready to accord his son his full state; others, again, that Charles drove Louis into exile from mere dislike and intended to make his second son his heir and successor. At this point Du Clercq's manuscript is broken off abruptly and the remainder of his conjectures are lost to posterity. Where the text begins again, the author dismisses all this contradictory hearsay and says in his own character as veracious chronicler, "I concern myself only with what actually occurred. The dauphin gave a feast in the forest and then departed secretly to avoid being arrested by Dammartin."

This flight was the not unnatural termination of a long series of misunderstandings between a father whose private conduct was not above criticism, and a son, clever, unscrupulous, destitute of respect for any person or thing except for the superstitious side of his religion.

Charles VII. was a curious instance of a man whose mental development occurred during the later years of his life. When his son was under his personal influence his character was not one to instil filial deference, and Louis certainly cherished neither respect nor affection for the father whose inert years he remembered vividly.

Whether, indeed, the dauphin had any part in Agnes Sorel's death which gave him especial reason to dread the king's anger, is uncertain, but of his action there is no doubt. To St. Claude he travelled as rapidly as his steed could go, and from that spot on Burgundian soil he despatched the following exemplary letter to his father:

"MY VERY REDOUBTABLE LORD:

"To your good grace I recommend myself as humbly as I can. Be pleased to know, my very redoubtable lord, that because, as you know, my uncle of Burgundy intends shortly to go on a crusade against the Turk in defence of the Catholic Faith and because my desire is to go, your good pleasure permitting, considering that our Holy Father the Pope bade me so to do, and that I am standard bearer of the Church, and that I took the oath by your command, I am now on my way to join my uncle to learn his plans so that I can take steps for the defence of the Catholic Faith.

"Also, I wish to implore him to find means of reinstating me in your good grace, which is something that I desire most in the world. My very redoubtable lord, I pray God to give you good life and long.

"Written at St. Claude the last day of August.     
"Your very humble and obedient son,     
"LOYS."   

This letter hardly succeeded in carrying conviction to the king. He characterised the projected expedition to Turkey as a farce, a pretence, and a frivolous excuse. Probably, too, he did not contradict his courtiers when they declared that the project had been in the wind a long time, and that the Duke of Burgundy would be prouder than ever to have the heir to France dependent on his protection.

The epistle despatched, Louis continued his journey under the escort of the Seigneur de Blaumont, Marshal of Burgundy, at the head of thirty horse. Their pace was rapid to elude the pursuit of Tristan l'Hermite. The prince needed no spurs to make him flee. Even if his father did not intend to have him drowned in a sack his immediate liberty was certainly in jeopardy. "In truth this thing was a marvellous business. The Prince of Orange and the Marshal of Burgundy were the two men whom the dauphin hated more than any one else, but necessity, which knows no law, overcame the distaste of the dauphin."

Louvain was the next place where Louis felt safe enough to rest. Here he wrote to the Duke of Burgundy to announce his arrival within his territory. The letter found Philip in camp before Deventer. It is evident that he was entirely taken by surprise, and was prepared to be very cautious in his correspondence with the French king. He assured him that he was willing to receive and honour Louis as his suzerain's heir, but he implored that suzerain not to blame him, the duke, for that heir's flight to his protection.

His envoy, Perrenet, was charged with many reassuring messages in addition to the epistle. Before he reached the French court, his news was no novelty. Rumour had preceded him. The messenger was very eloquent in his assurances to the king that Philip was wholly innocent in the affair and a good peer and true. Perrenet

"stayed at the French court until Epiphany and I do not know what they discussed, but during that time news came that the king had garrisoned Compiègne, Lyons, and places where his lands touched the duke's territories. When the envoy returned to the duke, he published a manifesto ordering all who could bear arms to be in readiness."

Philip sent messages of welcome to Louis with apologies for his own inevitable absence, and the visitor was profuse in his return assurances to his uncle that he understood the delay and would not disturb his business for the world. "I have leisure enough to wait and it does not weary me. I am safe in a pleasant land and in a fine town which I have long wished to see." He showed his courtesy when the Count d'Étampes, Philip's nephew-in-law, presented his suite, by pronouncing each individual name and assuring its bearer that he had heard about him.

The count was commissioned to conduct the dauphin to Brussels and we have the story of an eye-witness of his reception by the ladies of the ducal family:

"I saw the King of France, father of the present King Charles, chased away by his father Charles for some difference of which they say that the fair Agnes was the cause, and on account of which he took refuge with Duke Philip, for he had no means of subsistence.

"The said King Louis, being dauphin, came to Brussels accompanied by about ten cavaliers and by the Marshal of Burgundy. At this time Duke Philip was at Utrecht in war and there was no one to receive the visitor but Madame the Duchess Isabella and Madame de Charolais, her daughter-in-law, pregnant with Madame Mary of Burgundy, since then Duchess of Austria.

"Monsieur the dauphin arrived at Brussels, where were the ladies, at eight o'clock in the evening, about St. Martin's Day. When the ladies heard that he was in the city they hastened down to the courtyard to await him. As soon as he saw them he dismounted and saluted Madame the Duchess and Mme. de Charolais and Mme. de Ravestein. All kneeled and then he kissed the other ladies of the court."

Alienor goes on to describe how a whole quarter of an hour was consumed by a friendly altercation between Isabella and her guest as to the exact way in which they should enter the door, the dauphin resolute in his refusal to take precedence and Isabella equally resolute not even to walk by the side of the future king. "Monsieur, it seems to me you desire to make me a laughing stock, for you wish me to do what befits me not." To this the dauphin replied that it was incumbent upon him to pay honour for there was none in the realm of France so poor as he, and that he would not have known whither to flee if not to his uncle Philip and to her.

Louis prevailed in his argument, and hostess and guest finally proceeded hand in hand to the chamber prepared for the latter and Isabella then took leave on bended knee.

When the duke returned to Brussels this contention as to the proper etiquette was renewed. Isabella tried to retain the dauphin in his own apartment so that the duke should greet him there as befitted their relative rank. She was greatly chagrined, therefore, when Louis rushed down to the courtyard on hearing the signs of arrival. This punctilious hostess actually held the prince back by his coat to prevent his advancing towards the duke.

Throughout the visit the minor points of etiquette were observed with the utmost care. Both duchess and countess refrained from employing their train-bearers when they entered the dauphin's presence. When he insisted that his hostess should walk by his side, she managed her own train if possible. If she accepted any aid from her gentlemen she was very careful to keep her hand upon the dress, so that technically she was still her own train-bearer. Then, too, when the duchess ate in the dauphin's presence, there was no cover to her dish and nothing was tasted in her behalf.

The Duke of Burgundy had to supply Louis with every requisite, but he, too, never forgot for a moment that this dependent visitor was future monarch of France. Without doors as within, every minor detail of etiquette was observed. The duke never so far forgot himself in the ardour of the chase as to permit his horse's head to advance beyond the tail of the prince's steed.

In February, 1457, on St. Valentine's Eve, Mary of Burgundy was born. Our observant court lady describes in detail the ceremonial observed in the chamber of the Countess of Charolais and at the baptism. Brussels rang with joyful bells and blazed with torches, four hundred supplied by the city ahd two hundred by the young father. Each torch weighed four or five pounds.

The Count of Charolais was his own messenger to announce the birth of his daughter to the dauphin and to ask him to stand god-father. Joyful was Louis to accept the invitation and to bestow his mother's name on the baby-girl. Ste. Gudule was so far from the palace that the Church of the Caudenberg was selected for the ceremony and richly adorned with Holland linen, velvet, and cloth of gold. The duchess carried her grandchild to the font,—a font draped with cramoisy velvet.

"Monsieur the dauphin stood on the right and I heard it said that there was no one on the left because there was none his equal. On that day, the duchess wore a round skirt à la Portuguaise, edged with fur. There was no train of cloth nor of silk, so I cannot state who carried it,"

sagely remarks Alienor with incontrovertible logic.

Later events made later chroniclers less enthusiastic about the honour paid to Mademoiselle Mary by the dauphin. In a manuscript of La Marche's Mémoires at The Hague, the words "Lord! what a god-father!" appear in the margin of the page describing the baptism. But in these early days of his five years' sojourn, Louis seems to have been a pleasant person and to have posed as the ruined poor relation, entirely free from pride at his high birth and delighted to repay hospitality by his general complaisance.

Charles VII. received all the reports with somewhat cynical amusement. He had no great trust in his son. "Louis is fickle and changeable and I do not doubt that he will return here before long. I am not at all pleased with those who influence him," are his words as quoted by d'Escouchy.

Undoubtedly, though, the king was much surprised at his son's action. He had rather expected him to take refuge somewhere but he never thought that the Duke of Burgundy would be his protector—a strange choice to his mind. "My cousin of Burgundy nourishes a fox who will eat his chickens" is reported as another comment of this impartial father. Like many a phrase, possibly the fruit of later harvests, this is an excellent epitome of the situation.