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.[1] Intact undoubtedly, but possibly
the satisfaction was not quite perfect. Du Clercq[2] 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.[2] 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.
[Illustration: STATUE OF CHARLES THE BOLD AT INNSBRUCK]
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.[4]
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.[5]
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.[6] Du Clercq puts a different colour on the story and
d'Escouchy[7] 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.[8] 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.[9] 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).[10] 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."[12]
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[13] 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."[14]
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.[15] 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."[16]
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."[17]
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.[18]
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.[19]
"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.[20] 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[21] 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.[22] 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.[23]
[Illustration: LOUIS XI FROM THE ENGRAVING BY A. BOILLY, AFTER THE
DRAWING BY J. BOILLY]
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.[24] Like many a phrase, possibly the fruit of later harvests,
this is an excellent epitome of the situation.
[Footnote 1: I.,ch. xxxi.]
[Footnote 2:II.,204.]
[Footnote 3: Barante, vi.,50.]
[Footnote 4: Some of the canons wrote their reasons after their
recorded vote: "Because Duke Philip had made the candidate member
of his council of Holland, Zealand, and Friesland, in which office
Gijsbrecht had acquitted himself well." "Because all the Sticht nobles
were his relations," etc.--(Wagenaar, _Vaderlandsche Historie,_ iv.,
50.)]
[Footnote 5: Du Clercq, ii., 210.]
[Footnote 6: _Mémoires_, i., ch. xxxiii.]
[Footnote 7: II., 315.]
[Footnote 8: See Lavisse, iv^{ii}., 317.]
[Footnote 9: For the effects of operations on a large scale see
_Jacques Coeur and Charles VII_., by Pierre Clémart.]
[Footnote 10: _Duclos_, "Hist. de Louis XI.," _OEuvres Complètes_ v.,
8.]
[Footnote 11: Duclos, iii., 78.]
[Footnote 12: See Lavisse, iv^{ii}., 292.]
[Footnote 13: II.,223.]
[Footnote 14: _Lettres de Louis XI_., i., 77.
According to the editor, Vaesen, the original of this letter shows
that _September 2nd_ was written first and erased.]
[Footnote 15: Chastellain, iii., 185.]
[Footnote 16: Du Clercq, ii., 228.]
[Footnote 17: Chastellain iii., 197.]
[Footnote 18: See _Séjour de Louis XI. aux Pays-Bas;_ Reiffenberg:
Nouveaux mem. de l'Acad. Royale, 1829.]
[Footnote 19: Alienor de Poictiers, _Les Honneurs de la Cour_, ii.,
208. It was early in October.]
[Footnote 20: This date, November 11th, does not agree with the
others.]
[Footnote 21: "At that time they did not say Madame, for Monsieur was
not the son of a sovereign."--La Marche, ii., 410, note.]
[Footnote 22: La Marche, ii., 410: "Dieu quel parrain!"]
[Footnote 23: II., 343.]
[Footnote 24: Chastellain, iii., 185; Lavisse iv^{ii}., 299.]