CHARLES THE BOLD

XVII

THE MEETING AT TRÈVES

1473

On Wednesday, September 28th, Emperor Frederic made his entry into the old Roman city on the dancing Moselle. Two days later, the Duke of Burgundy arrived and was welcomed most pompously outside of Trèves, by his suzerain.

After the first greetings, ensued an argument about the etiquette proper for the occasion, an argument similar to those which had absorbed the punctilious in the Burgundian court, when the dauphin made his famous visit to Duke Philip. For thirty minutes, the emperor argued with his guest before feudal scruples were overcome and the vassal was induced to ride by his chief's side into the city.

The entry was a grand sight, and crowds thronged the streets, more curious about the duke than about the emperor. Charles was then in the very prime of life. His personality commanded attention, but there were some among the onlookers who found it more striking than attractive. One bystander thought that the very splendour of his dress, wherein cloth of gold and pearls played a part, only brought into high relief the severity of his features. His great black eyes, his proud and determined air failed to cast into oblivion a certain effect of insignificance given by his square figure, broad shoulders, excessively stout limbs, and legs rather bowed from continuous riding.

There is, however, another word portrait of the duke as he looked in the year 1473, whose trend is more sympathetic. "His stature was small and nervous, his complexion pale, hair dark chestnut, eyes black and brilliant, his presence majestic but stern. He was high-spirited, magnanimous, courageous, intrepid, and impetuous. Capable of action, he lacked nothing but prudence to attain success."

From the two descriptions emerges a fairly clear picture of an energetic man, somewhat undersized, and sometimes inclined to assert his dignity in a fashion that did not quite comport with his physical characteristics. The conviction that he was a very important personage with greater importance awaiting him, and his total lack of a sense of humour, combined with his inability to feel the pulse of a situation, undoubtedly affected his bearing and made it seem more pompous.

The emperor was not an heroic figure in appearance any more than he was in the records of his reign, distinguished for being the feeblest as well as the longest in the annals of the empire. He was indolent, timid, irresolute, and incapable. His features and manners were vulgar, his intellect sluggish. Peasant-like in his petty economies, he was shrewder at a bargain than in wielding his imperial sceptre. At Trèves he was accompanied by his son, the Archduke Maximilian, a fairly intelligent youth of eighteen, very ready to be fascinated by his proposed father-in-law, who was a striking contrast to his own languid and irresolute father, in energy and strenuous love of action.

As the two princes rode together into the city, Charles's accoutrements attracted all eyes. The polished steel of his armour shone like silver. Over it hung a short mantle actually embroidered with diamonds and other precious stones to the value of two hundred thousand gold crowns. His velvet hat, graciously held in his hand out of compliment to the emperor, was ornamented with a diamond whose price no man could tell. Before him walked a page carrying his helmet studded with gems, while his magnificent black steed was heavily weighted down with its rich caparisons.

Frederic III., very simple in his ordinary dress, had exerted himself to appear well to his great vassal. His robe of cloth of gold was fine, though it may have looked something like a luxurious dressing-gown, as it was made after the Turkish fashion and bordered with pearls. The emperor was lame in one foot, injured, so ran the tradition, by his habit of kicking, not his servants, but innocent doors that chanced to impede his way.

The Archduke Maximilian, gay in crimson and silver, walked by the side of an Ottoman prince, prisoner of war, and converted to Christianity by the pope himself. And then there was a host of nobles, great and small. Among them were Engelbert of Nassau and the representative of the House of Orange-Châlons, whose titles were destined to be united in one person within the next half-century.

The magnificence remained unrivalled in the history of royal conferences. The very troopers wore habits of cloth of gold over their steel, while their embroidered saddle-cloths were fringed with silver bells. Surpassing all others, were the heralds-at-arms of the various individual states which acknowledged Charles as their sovereign, seigneur, count, or duke as the case might be. They preceded their liege lord, clad in their distinctive armorial coats, ablaze with colour. Before them were the trumpeters in white and blue, their very instruments silvered, while first of all rode one hundred golden haired boys, "an angel throng."

It was so difficult to decide as to the requisite etiquette of escort, that the emperor and duke agreed to separate on the fairly neutral ground of the market-place. Each proceeded with his own suite to his lodgings, Frederic to the archbishop's palace, and Charles to the abbey of St. Maximin, which had conferred on him, some years previously, the honorary title of "Protector." His army was quartered within and without the city. Two days for repose and then the first official interview took place, which is described as follows, by an unknown correspondent, evidently in the ducal suite:

"Yesterday, which was Sunday, Monseigneur waited upon the emperor and escorted him to his own lodging which is in the abbey of St. Maximin. My said lord was clad in ducal array except for his hat. The emperor wore a rich robe of cloth of gold of cramoisy, and his son was in a robe of green damask. As to their people, both suites were very brave, jewelry and cloth of gold being as common as satin or taffeta. Monseigneur received the emperor in a little chamber decorated with hangings from Holland that many recognised.

"The emperor made the Bishop of Mayence his mouthpiece to describe the stress of Christianity and to urge Charles to lend his assistance. Having listened to this address, Monseigneur requested the emperor to please come into a larger place where more people could hear his answer. Accordingly they entered a hall decorated with the tapestry of Alexander, while the very ceiling was covered with cloth of gold. There was a dais whereon stood a double row of seats. Benches and steps were spread over with tapestry wrought with my lord's arms. Thither came the emperor and mounted the dais with difficulty.... Mons., the chancellor, clad in velvet over velvet cramoisy, first pronounced a discourse in beautiful Latin as a response to what had been said by the seigneur of Mayence. Then, showing how the affairs of my said lord were affected by the king, he began with an account of the king's reception by Monseigneur, whom God absolve [evidently the late duke], in his own residence, and he continued down to the present day, dilating upon the great benefits, services, and honour by him [Louis] received in the domains of Burgundy, and the extortions he had made since and desires to make. Never a word was forgotten, but all was well stated, especially the case of M. de Guienne. Finally, Monseigneur declared that if his lands were in security, there was nothing he would like better than to give aid to Christianity.

"After this statement, which was marvellously honest, the emperor arose from the throne, wine and spices were brought, and then Monseigneur escorted the emperor to his quarters with grand display of torches. This is the outline of what happened on October 4th, in the said year lxxiii. And as to the future, next Thursday the emperor will dine where Monseigneur lodges, et là fera les grants du roy, and there will be novelties. In regard to the fashion of the said emperor and his estate, he is a very fine prince and attractive, very robust, very human, and benign. I do not know with whom to compare his figure better than Monseigneur de Croy, as he was eight or ten years ago, except that his flesh is whiter than that of the Sr. de Croy. The emperor has seven or eight hundred horse as an escort, but the major part of the nobles present come from this locality. In regard to Monseigneur's departure, there is no news, and they make great cheer—this is all for this time."

The German scholars in the imperial party listened most attentively to the style of the Netherlander's speech as well as to his subject-matter. "More abundant in vocabulary than elegant in Latinity," was their comment, a fault they considered marking all French Latin. The audience found time to note the style for the subject of the address did not interest them greatly. The least observant onlooker knew that the main purpose of this interview was not the plan of a Turkish campaign, though Frederic appointed a committee to discuss that, whose members, Burgundian and German in equal numbers, were instructed to study the Eastern question while emperor and duke were absorbed in other matters. In their very first session, this committee decided that the chief obstacle to a Turkish expedition was the Franco-Burgundian quarrel. This point was also raised by Charles in his first conference with Frederic. No campaign was feasible until the European powers were ready to act in concert. Louis XI. was aiding and abetting the heathen by being a disturbing element which rendered this desired unity impossible. So Frederic appointed a fresh commission to discuss European peace. And this insolvable problem was a convenient blind for other discussions.

On October 5th, a Burgundian fête gave new occasion for a display of wealth; "vulgar ostentation," sneered the less opulent German nobles who tried to show that their pride was not wounded by the sharp contrasts between imperial habits and those of a mere duke. On their side, the Burgundians remarked that it was a pity to waste good things on boors so little accustomed to elegantly equipped apartments that they used silken bedspreads to polish up their boots!

A running commentary of international criticism, fine feasts, ostensible negotiations about projects that probably no one expected would come to pass, and an undercurrent, persistent and mandatory, of demands emphatically made on one side, feebly accepted by the other while the two principals were together, and petulantly disliked by the emperor as soon as he was alone again —such was the course of the conference.

Frederic III. had one simple desire—to marry his son to the Burgundian heiress. Charles desired many things, some of which are clear and others obscure. The very fact that the emperor did not at once refuse his demands, gave him confidence that all were obtainable. Very probably he hoped to overawe his feudal chief by a display of his resources, and by showing the high esteem in which he was held by all nations. There at Trèves, embassies came to him from England, from various Italian and German states, and from Hungary.

On October 15th, a treaty was signed that made the new Duke of Lorraine virtually a vassal to Charles, an important step towards Burgundian expansion. There was time and to spare for these many comings and goings during the eight weeks of the sojourn at Trèves, and the duke was not idle. That his own business hung fire, he thought was due to the machinations of Louis XI. He had no desire to prolong his visit, for he was well aware of the risk involved in keeping his troops in Trèves.⁸ At first the magnificence of his equipage had amused the quiet old town, but little by little, in spite of the duke's strict discipline, the presence of idle soldiers became very onerous. Charles did not hesitate to hang on the nearest tree a man caught in an illicit act, but much lawlessness passed without his knowledge. Provisions became very dear; there was some danger of an epidemic due to the unsanitary conditions of the place, ill fitted to harbour so many strangers. The precautions instituted by the Roman founders in regard to their water supply had long since fallen into disuse.

Weary of delays, the duke demanded a definite answer from the emperor as to the proposed kingdom, the matrimonial alliance, and his own status. Frederic appeared about to acquiesce, and then substituted vague promises for present assent to the demands. But when Charles, indignant, broke off negotiations on October 31st, and began to prepare for immediate departure, Frederic became anxious, renewed his overtures, and a new conference took place, in which he consented to fulfil the duke's wishes, with the proviso the sanction of his election should be obtained.

Charles promised to go against the Turk in person, and to place a thousand men at Frederic's disposal, so soon as all points at issue between him and Louis XI. were settled, and provided that his estates were erected into a kingdom, which should also comprise the bishoprics of Liege, Utrecht, Toul, Verdun, and the duchies of Lorraine, Savoy, and Cleves. This realm was to be a fief of the empire like Hungary, Bohemia, and Poland, and transmissible by heredity in the male and female line—a necessary recognition of a woman's right, approved by both parties, for Mary of Burgundy was to marry Maximilian.

Electoral confirmation alone was wanting, and in regard to that there was much voluminous correspondence and much shuffling of responsibility. The electors of Mayence and of Trèves were the only ones present to speak for themselves, and they declared that the matter ought to be referred to a full conclave of the electoral college. Let the candidate for royalty await the decision of the next diet, appointed for November at Augsburg.

Never loth to delay, the emperor proposed this solution to Charles, who replied haughtily that if his request were not complied with he would join Louis XI. in a league hostile to the empire. This was on November 6th. The Archbishop of Trèves then suggested that if the question could not wait for a diet, at least the electors should be summoned, especially the elector of Brandenburg, whom he knew to be influential with the emperor, and who was a leader in the anti-Burgundian and anti-Bohemian German party. This seemed fair, but the emperor suddenly put on a show of authority and declared, with an injured air, that he was perfectly free to act on his own initiative without confirmation. In the interests of Christianity and of the empire he would appoint Charles of Burgundy chief of the crusade, and he would crown him king.

The organised opposition to his plan came to the duke's ears and made him very angry. Yet, at the same time, he had no desire to dispense with electoral consent. Possibly he felt that the imperial staff alone was too feeble to conjure his kingdom into permanent existence. It was finally decided that Frederic III. should display his power to the extent of investing Charles at once with the duchy of Guelders, while the more important investiture should be postponed.

Very imposing was the ceremony enacted in the market-place. Frederic was exalted upon a high platform ascended by a flight of steps. Charles, clad in complete steel but bareheaded and unattended, rode slowly around the platform three times, "which they say was the custom in such solemnities of investiture," adds an eyewitness, as though he considered the ceremony somewhat archaic. Then the candidate dismounted, received the mantle of the empire from an attendant, and slowly ascended the steps to the emperor's feet, while a new escutcheon, displaying the insignia of the freshly acquired fiefs, quartered on the Burgundian arms, was carried before him. Kneeling at the emperor's feet, the duke laid two fingers on his sword hilt and repeated the oath of fealty and service in low but distinct tones. Other rites followed, and then Charles was proclaimed Duke of Guelders.

Thus one object of the conference was attained, and all the world thought it was only a question of time when the greater investiture would be celebrated. Charles's star was in the ascendant. There seemed no limit to the power he had acquired over his suzerain, who apparently graciously nodded assent to his requests, while the duke, too, withdrawing from his alliance with the King of Hungary, appeared very conciliatory in all doubtful issues. At the same time, his confidence in Frederic was by no means perfect.

"The emperor is acting with perfect imperial authority and thinks that no one has a right to dispute it, nevertheless the duke yearns for the sanction of the electors and is set upon obtaining it." The tone taken by Charles was that of humble ignorance. "Little instructed as I am in imperial German law, I am anxious to have your opinion on the legal ability of the emperor to erect a kingdom." On November 8th, in the evening, the electors present in Trèves declared that they were not exactly sure about the imperial authority, but they were sure that it was not their duty to discuss the legal attributes of imperial puissance.

Under these circumstances what remained to hinder the attainment of Charles's desire? The emperor consented, and the only people who could have stayed his consent expressly stated that his was the final word, not theirs. It was easy for onlookers to conclude not only that the coronation was certain but that it was done.

"Know that our lord the emperor has made the Duke of Burgundy a king of the lands hereafter mentioned and has assured the royal title to him and his heirs, male and female; all the territories that he holds from the empire together with Guelderland lately conquered, and the land of Lorraine, lately lapsed to the empire in fief, besides the duchy of Burgundy that formerly was held from the crown of France; also the bishoprics of Liege, Utrecht, Dolen, and others belonging to the empire, besides a few seigniories, also imperial fiefs. All this, royalty and principalities, he receives from a Roman emperor."

So wrote Albert of Brandenburg on November 13th, trusting to the word of an envoy who had left matters in so advanced a state when he departed from Trèves that he felt safe in concluding that achievement had been reached.

Various letters from the citizens of Berne, too, were filled with rumours from Trèves. Most extraordinary is one of November 29th, intended to go the rounds of the Swiss confederacy, containing exact details of the coronation of Charles as it had taken place five days previously. The boundaries of the new kingdom were specified. Venice, in hot haste to please the monarch, had instantly shown exceptional honour to the Burgundian resident. How exact it all sounded! Yet there was no truth in it.

The vacillating emperor was affected by the attitude of his suite, and by their varying representations. There is no actual proof of French interference, but French agents had been seen in the city, and might have had private audiences with the emperor. Gradually, relations changed between Charles and Frederic. There was a cloud, not dissipated by a three days' fête given by the duke (November 19th-22d), evidently in farewell. Was Charles too exigeant with his demands, too chary of his daughter? Probably.

On November 23d, instead of a definitive treaty a simple convention was signed, postponing the coronation until February. Emperor and regal candidate were to meet again at Besançon, Cologne, or Basel. In the interval, Charles was to come to a satisfactory understanding with the electors and obtain their official endorsement for the imperial grant.

November 25th was appointed, not for the regal investiture, but for Frederic's departure. On the evening of the 24th, he gave audience to his councillors and princes. The electors present were urged by the Burgundians to give their own conditional approval at least, and to consent to a reduction of the military obligations to be incurred by Charles. It was a crisis, however, where nobody wished to pledge anything definitely. There was an evident disposition to await some further issue before final action.

The leave-taking between the bargain makers was expected to be as pompous as had been the entry into Trèves. It was far into the night of November 24th when the audience broke up. Little rest was there for the imperial suite, for when the tardy November sun arose above the eastern horizon, its rays met Frederic sailing down the Moselle. Not only had no imperial adieux been uttered, but no imperial debts had been settled. This was the news that was awaiting Charles when he awoke. Baffled he was, but not in his hope of being a king that day. No, only in his expectation of a stately pageant. In all haste he sent Peter von Hagenbach to ride more swiftly along the bank than the boat could sail, so as to overtake the traveller and urge him to wait for a few more words on divers topics. In one account it is reported that Frederic, though annoyed at the interruption, still assented to Hagenbach's request. No sooner was the latter away, however, than he changed his mind and continued his course.

Rumour was busy, in regard to this strange exit of the emperor from the scene. The general belief among contemporaries was that it was on the eve of the intended coronation that Frederic turned his back on the scene. Take first the words of Thomas Basin, whose statement that he was in the very midst of the events can hardly be doubted:

"But alas how easily and instantly human desires change, and how fragile are the alliances and friendships of men, especially of princes, which are not joined and confirmed by the glue of Christ ... as the sacred Psalm sings, 'Put not your trust in princes nor in the sons of men in whom there is no safety.' Suddenly, forsooth, when they were thought to be harmonious in charity, benevolence, and friendship, when they offered each other such splendid entertainment, when they feasted together in regal luxury in all unity and friendship, when all things, as has been said, needed for the magnificence of such a great honour were made ready and prepared, so that on the third day should occur the celebration of that regal dignity [fastigii], and the [provectio] promotion of a new king and the erection of a new kingdom or the restoration and renovation of an ancient one, now obsolete from antiquity, were expected by all with great attention;—something occurred. I do not know what; hesitation or suspicion, fancied or justified, unexpectedly affected the emperor ... and embarking on his ship in the very early morning he sailed down the river Moselle to the Rhine. And thus was frustrated the hope of the duke and of all the Burgundians who believed that he was to be elevated to a king. In a moment this hope was extinguished like a candle.

"We were present there in the city of Trèves, attached to the suite of neither prince, not serving or pretending to serve either of them. But we ascertained nothing either then or later, although we made many inquiries, about the cause of this sudden departure and we are still ignorant of the truth. When the day broke after the emperor's departure, and the duke was informed of the fact, he was also assured that the vessel in which the emperor sailed was opposite the monastery of St. Mary Blessed to the Martyrs. So he sent messengers hastily to beg the emperor to stay for a very brief interview with the duke, assuring him that the very least delay possible should occur if he did the favour. But no attention was paid to the signals from the shore and the course was continued."

The bishop wrote these words some time after the event. There are other accounts preserved, actual letters written within a few days or weeks of November 25th, wherein is evinced similar ignorance of what had actually passed. The following gives several suggestions of difficulties not mentioned elsewhere. A certain Balthasar Cesner, secretary, writes to Master Johannes Gelthauss and others in Frankfort, from Cologne, on December 6th. He was attached to the imperial service, and possibly was one of the few attendants on Frederic in the hasty journey from Trèves. After touching on Cologne affairs he proceeds:

"I must inform your excellencies how the Duke of Burgundy came with all pomp for his coronation as king of the kingdom of Burgundy and Friesland with twenty-six standards besides a magnificent sceptre and crown. He also wished to take his duchy and territories in Savoy and Guelders and others in fief from him [the emperor] and not from the empire. This and other extraordinary demands his imperial grace did not wish to grant, and on that account he has broken off the interview and gone away. Everything was prepared for the coronation, the chair for the taking. It is said that he is to be crowned in Aix. It may be hoped not [non speratur]. You can understand me as well as your faithful servant.

"Dear Master Hans I hope that you will not laugh at me. I can please my gracious lord and be worthy of praise if you will only trust me.

"Despatched from Cologne on St. Nicholas Day itself.

"To the Jurisconsult Master Johannes Gelthauss, Distinguished advocate, master, preceptor of the city of Frankfort."

The two kingdoms are also mentioned by Snoy:

"Two realms, namely Burgundy and Frisia; in the second, Holland, Zealand, Guelders, Brabant, Limburg, Namur, Hainaut, and the dioceses of Liege, Cambray, and Utrecht; in the first, Burgundy, Luxemburg, Artois, Flanders, and three bishoprics."

The chronicler adds that this plan was discussed in secret conference.

Again the rumour that the final straw that broke the emperor's resolution was the duke's desire to take Savoy and Guelders from his hand alone, is suggestive. On the duke's part, this wish might indicate an attempt to separate a portion of territory from the empire in a way to deceive his contemporaries into thinking that his kingdom was an imperial fief, while, in reality, it was an independent realm, as he or his successors could declare at a convenient moment. But this seems at variance with his attested desire for electoral support.

It was a curious tangle and never fully unravelled. Yet, considering the emperor's personal characteristics, his last action does not seem inexplicable. As his visitor showed the intensity of his will, Frederic became restive. Phlegmatic, obstinate, yet conscious of his own weakness, personal conflicts with a nature equally obstinate and much more vigorous were exceedingly unpleasant. The collision made him writhe uneasily and prefer to slip out of his embarrassment as quietly as he could.

The proposed leave-taking was to be very magnificent, and the magnificence again was significant of Burgundian wealth. Whether the duke would surely keep his pledge of sharing that wealth with the archduke if the emperor went so far that he could not draw back, was a consideration that undoubtedly may have affected Frederic. Had Mary of Burgundy accompanied her father, had the wedding of the daughter and investiture of the new king been planned for the same day, had the promises been exchanged simultaneously, the leave-taking might have passed, indeed, as a third ceremonial in all stateliness.

If Frederic doubted the surety of his bargain, it is not surprising. It was notorious how the duke had played fast and loose with his daughter's hand, withdrawing it from the grasp of a suitor as the greater advantages of another alliance were presented to him, or as the mere disadvantage of any marriage at all became unpleasantly near. Vigorous man of forty that he was, Charles had no personal desire to see a son-in-law, in propria persona, waiting for his shoes—a fact perfectly patent to the emperor, as it was to the rest of the world.

The task of making the imperial adieux was entrusted to the imperial chamberlain, Ulrich von Montfort, who duly presented his master's formal excuses to the duke, on the morning of November 25th. "Important and urgent affairs had necessitated his presence elsewhere. The arrangement discussed between them was not broken but simply postponed until a more convenient occasion rendered its execution possible," etc.

The Strasburg chronicles report that Charles was in a towering rage on receiving this communication. He clinched his fists, ground his teeth, and kicked the furniture about the room in which he had locked himself up. But by the time these words were penned, these authors were better informed than Charles about the ultimate result of the emperor's intentions. The duke may have been angry, but he certainly controlled himself sufficiently to give several audiences in the course of the day—to envoys from Lorraine among others—and was ready to take his own departure by evening, not doubting that the crown and sceptre, carefully packed with the mountain of his valuable treasure, would assuredly fulfil their destiny in the near future. Trèves was left to its pristine repose, and Charles was the last man to realise that in its silence were entombed for ever his chances of wearing the prematurely prepared insignia.