GUELDERS
1473
The affairs of the little duchy of Guelders were among the matters
urgently demanding the attention of the Duke of Burgundy at the close
of his campaign in France. The circumstances of the long-standing
quarrel between Duke Arnold and his unscrupulous son Adolf were a
scandal throughout Europe. In 1463, a seeming reconciliation of the
parties had not only been effected but celebrated in the town of Grave
by a pleasant family festival, from whose gaieties the elder duke,
fatigued, retired at an early hour. Scarcely was he in bed, when he
was aroused rudely, and carried off half clad to a dungeon in the
castle of Buren, by the order of his son, who superintended the
abduction in person and then became duke regnant. For over six years
the old man languished in prison, actually taunted, from time to time,
it is said, by Duke Adolf himself.
Indignant remonstrances against this conduct were heard from various
quarters, and were all alike unheeded by the young duke until Charles
of Burgundy interfered and ordered him to bring his father to his
presence, and to submit the dispute to his arbitration. Charles was
too near and too powerful a neighbour to be disregarded, and his
peremptory invitation was accepted. Pending the decision, the
two dukes were forced to be guests in his court, under a strict
surveillance which amounted to an arrest.
The first suggestion made by Charles was for a compromise between
father and son. "Let Duke Arnold retain the nominal sovereignty in
Guelders, actual possession of one town, and a fair income, while
to Adolf be ceded the full power of administration." The latter was
emphatic in his refusal to consider the proposition. "Rather would I
prefer to see my father thrown into a well and to follow him thither
than to agree to such terms. He has been sovereign duke for forty-four
years; it is my turn now to reign." Arnold thought it would be a
simple feat to fight out the dispute. "I saw them both several times
in the duke's apartment and in the council chamber when they pleaded,
each his own cause. I saw the old man offer a gage of battle to his
son."[1] The senior belonged to the disappearing age of chivalry. A
trial of arms seemed to him an easy and knightly fashion of ending his
differences with his importunate heir.
No settlement was effected before the French expedition, but Charles
was not disposed to let the matter slip from his control, and when
he proceeded to Amiens, the two dukes, still under restraint, were
obliged to follow in his train. At a leisure moment Charles intended
to force them to accept his arbitration as final. Before that moment
arrived, the more agile of the two plaintiffs, Adolf, succeeded in
eluding surveillance and escaping from the camp at Wailly. He made his
way successfully to Namur disguised as a Franciscan monk. Then, at
the ferry, he gave a florin when a penny would have sufficed. The
liberality, inconsistent with his assumed rôle, aroused suspicion and
led to the detection of his rank and identity. He was stayed in his
flight and imprisoned in the castle of Namur to await a decision on
his case by his self-constituted judge. This was not pronounced until
the summer of 1473.
By that time, Charles was resolved on another course of action than
that of adjusting a family dispute in the capacity of puissant,
impartial, and friendly neighbour. Adolf's behaviour towards his
father had been extraordinarily brutal and outrageous. Public comment
had been excited to a wide degree. It was not an affair to be dealt
with lightly by Duke Charles. The young Duchess of Guelders was
Catharine of Bourbon, sister to the late Duchess of Burgundy, and
Adolf himself was chevalier of the Golden Fleece. In consideration of
these links of family and knightly brotherhood, Charles desired that
the case should be tried with all formality.
[Illustration: ARNOLD, DUKE OF GUELDERS (FROM THE ENGRAVING BY
PINSSIO, AFTER THE DRAWING BY J. ROBERT)]
On May 3, 1473, an assembly of the Order was held at Valenciennes,[2]
and the knights were asked to pass upon the conduct of their
delinquent fellow, who was permitted to present his own brief through
an attorney, but was detained in his own person at Namur. The
innocence or guilt of his prisoner was no longer the chief point of
interest as far as the Duke of Burgundy was concerned. The latter had
made an excellent bargain on his own behalf with the moribund Duke of
Guelders, who had signed (December, 1472) a document wherein he sold
to Charles all his administrative rights in Guelders and Zutphen for
ninety-two thousand florins,[3] in consideration of Arnold's enjoying
a life interest in half of the revenue of his ancient duchy. That
clause soon lost its significance. The old man's life ceased in March,
1473, and, by virtue of the contract, Charles proposed to enter into
full possession of his estates, setting aside not only Adolf, whom he
was ready to pronounce an outlawed criminal, quite beyond the pale of
society, but that Adolf's innocent eight-year-old heir, Charles, whose
hereditary claims had also been ignored by his grandfather.
Before the knights of the Order as a final court, were rehearsed all
the circumstances of the old family quarrel and of the late commercial
transaction. Their verdict was the one desired by their chief. It was
proven to their entire satisfaction that Arnold's sale of the duchy of
Guelders and Zutphen was a legitimate proceeding, and that the deed
executed by him was a perfect and valid instrument, whereby Charles of
Burgundy was duly empowered to enjoy all the revenues of, and to exert
authority in, his new duchy at his pleasure. As to Duke Adolf, he
was condemned by this tribunal of his peers to life imprisonment as
punishment for his unfilial and unjustifiable cruelty towards Arnold,
late Duke of Guelders.
Adolf's protests were stifled by his prison bars, but the people of
Guelders were by no means disposed to accept unquestioned this deed
of transfer, made when the two parties to the conveyance were in
very unequal conditions of freedom. In order to convince them of the
justice of his pretensions, Charles levied a force almost as efficient
as his army of the preceding summer, and fell upon Guelders. A truce,
a triple compact with France and England, had recently been renewed,
so that for the moment his hands were free from complications, an
event commented upon by Sir John Paston, as follows:
"April 16, 1473, CANTERBURY.
"As for tydings ther was a truce taken at Brusslys about the xxvi
day off March last, betwyn the Duke of Burgoyn and the Frense
Kings inbassators and Master William Atclyff ffor the king heer,
whiche is a pese be londe and be water tyll the ffyrst daye off
Apryll nowe next comyng betweyn Fraunce and Ingeland, and also the
Dukys londes. God holde it ffor ever."
The writer had recently been in Charles's court. Writing from Calais
in February, he says:
"As ffor tydyngs heer ther bee but few saff that the Duke of
Burgoyen and my Lady hys wyffe fareth well. I was with them on
Thorysdaye last past at Gaunt."[4]
The Duke of Burgundy was not the only pretender to the vacated
sovereignty of Guelders. The Duke of Juliers was also inclined to
urge his cause, were Adolf's family to be set aside. At the sight
of Burgundian puissance, however, he was ready to be convinced, and
accepted 24,000 florins for his acquiescence in the righteousness of
the accession. Several of the cities manifested opposition to Charles,
but yielded one after another. In Nimwegen--long hostile to Duke
Arnold--there was a determined effort to support little Charles of
Guelders who, with his sister, was in that city. The child made a
pretty show on his little pony, and there were many declarations of
devotion to his cause as he was put forward to excite sympathy. For
three weeks, the town held out in his name. The resistance to the
Burgundian troops was sturdy. When the gates gave way before their
attacks the burghers defended the broken walls. Six hundred English
archers were repulsed from an assault with such sudden energy that
they left their banners sticking in the very breaches they thought
they had won, fine prizes for the triumphant citizens. But the game
was unequal, and the combatants, convinced that discretion was the
better part of valour, at last accepted the Duke of Cleves as a
mediator with their would-be sovereign.
On July 19th, a long civic procession headed by the burgomasters,
wearing neither hats nor shoes, marched to the Duke of Burgundy with a
prayer for pardon on their lips. The leaders of the opposition to his
accession were delivered over to the mercy of the victor. The garrison
were accorded their lives and a tax was imposed on the city to
indemnify the duke for his needless trouble, and Guelders was added
_de facto_ to the list of Burgundian ducal titles. In the various
state papers presently issued by the new ruler, the mention of the
circumstance of his accession to the sovereignty was simple and
straightforward, as in a certain document appointing Olivier de la
Marche to be treasurer. The patent bears the date of August 18th and
was one of the earliest issued by Charles in this new capacity.
"As by the death of the late Messire Arnold, in his life Duke of
Guelderland, these counties and duchy have lapsed to me, and by
the same token the offices of the land have escheated to our
disposition, and among others the office of master of the moneys
of those countships ... using the rights, etc., escheated to me,
and in consideration of the good and agreeable services already
rendered and continually rendered by our knight, etc., Olivier de
la Marche, having full confidence in his sense, loyalty, probity,
and good diligence--for these causes and others we entrust the
office of master and overseer of moneys of the land of Guelders
to him, with all the rights, duties, and privileges thereto
pertaining. In testimony of this we have set our seal to these
papers. Done in our city of Nimwegen, August 18, 1473. Thus signed
by M. le duc."
On the back of this document was written:
"To-day, November 3, 1473, Messire Olivier de la Marche ... took
the oath of office of master and overseer of the land and duchy of
Guelders."[5]
The charge of the ducal children, Charles and Philippa, was entrusted
to the duke who, in his turn, deputed Margaret of York to supervise
their education. In a comparatively brief time agitation in behalf
of the disinherited heir ceased, and imperial ratification alone was
required to stamp the territory as a legal fraction of the Burgundian
domains. Under the circumstances the minor heirs were the emperor's
wards, and it was his express duty to look to their interests, but
Frederic III. showed no disposition to assert himself as their
champion. On the contrary, the embassy that arrived from his court on
August 14th was charged with felicitations to his dear friend, Charles
of Burgundy, for his acquisition, and with assurances that the
requisite investiture into his dignities should be given by his
imperial hand at the duke's pleasure.[6]
Communication between Frederic and Charles had been intermittently
frequent during the past three years, and one subject of their letters
was probably a reason why Charles had been willing to abandon a losing
game in France to give another bias to his thoughts. He was lured
on by the bait of certain prospects, varying in their definite form
indeed, but full of promise that he might be enabled, eventually, to
confer with Louis XI. from a better vantage ground than his position
as first peer of France. The story of these hopes now becomes the
story of Charles of Burgundy.
When Sigismund of Austria completed his mortgage, in 1469, at St.
Omer, and returned home, as already stated, he was fired with zeal to
divert some of the dazzling Burgundian wealth into the empty imperial
coffers. An alliance between Mary of Burgundy and the young Archduke
Maximilian seemed to him the most advantageous matrimonial bargain
possible for the emperor's heir. He urged it upon his cousin with
all the eloquence he possessed, and was lavish in his offers to be
mediator between him and his new friend Charles.
Frederic was impressed by Sigismund's enthusiastic exposition of the
advantages of the match, and little time elapsed before his ambassador
brought formal proposals to Charles for the alliance. The duke
received the advances complacently and returned propositions
significant of his personal ambitions. As early as May, 1470, his
instructions to certain envoys sent to the intermediary, Sigismund,
are plain. In unequivocal terms, his daughter's hand is made
contingent on his own election as King of the Romans, that shadowy
royalty which veiled the approach to the imperial throne.
"_Item_--And in regard to the said marriage, the ambassadors shall
inform Monseigneur of Austria that, since his departure from
Hesdin, certain people have talked to Monseigneur about this
marriage and mentioned that, in return, the emperor would be
willing to grant to Monseigneur the crown and the government of
the Kingdom of the Romans, with the stipulation that Monseigneur,
_arrived at the empire by the good pleasure of the emperor_ or
by his death, would, in his turn, procure the said crown of the
Romans for his son-in-law. The result will be that the empire
will be continued in the person of the emperor's son and his
descendants.
"_Item_--They shall tell him about a meeting between the imperial
and ducal ambassadors, at which meeting there was some talk of
making a kingdom out of certain lands of Monseigneur and
joining these to an _imperial_ vicariate of all the lands and
principalities lying along the Rhine."
In the following paragraphs of this instruction,[7] Charles directs
his envoys to make it clear to Monseigneur of Austria (Sigismund)
that the duke's interest in the plan does not spring from avarice or
ambition. He is purely actuated by a yearning to employ his time and
his strength for God's service and for the defence of the Faith, while
still in his prime.
Should the emperor refuse to approve the duke's nomination as King of
the Romans, the ambassadors are instructed to say that they are not
empowered to proceed with the marriage negotiations without first
referring to their chief. They must ask leave to return with their
report. If Sigismund should take it on himself to sound the emperor
again about his sentiments, the envoys might await the result of his
investigations. He was to be assured that while Charles was resolved
to hold back until he was fully satisfied on this point, if it were
once ceded, he would interpose no further delay in the celebration of
the nuptials. He must know, however, just what power and revenue the
emperor would attach to the proposed title. He was not willing to
accept it without emoluments. His present financial burdens were
already heavy, etc. The concluding items of the instructions had
reference to the marriage settlements.
A kingdom of his own was not the duke's dream at this stage of
Burgundo-Austrian negotiations. The title that Charles desired
primarily was King of the Romans, one empty of substantial sovereign
power, but rich with promise of the all-embracing imperial dignity.
Significant is the intimation that after this preliminary title was
conferred, its wearer would be glad to have Frederic step aside
voluntarily. A resignation would be as efficient as death in making
room for his appointed successor.
Frederic III. had, indeed, intimated occasionally that a life of
meditation would suit his tastes better than the imperial throne, but
he seems in no wise to have been tempted by the offer made by Charles
to relieve him of his onerous duties, and then to pass on the office
to his son. At any rate, the emperor rejected the opportunity to enjoy
an irresponsible ease. His answer to the duke was that he did not
exercise sufficient influence over his electors to ensure their
accepting his nominee as successor to the _imperium_.
There was, however, one honour that lay wholly within his gift. If
Charles desired higher rank, the emperor would be quite willing to
erect his territories into a realm and to create him monarch of
his own agglomerated possessions, welded into a new unity. This
proposition wounded Charles keenly. He assured Sigismund[8] (January
15, 1471) that his nomination as King of the Romans would never have
occurred to him spontaneously. He had been assured that it was a
darling project of the emperor, and he had simply been willing
to please him, etc. As to a kingdom of his own, he refused the
proposition with actual disdain.
Then various suitors for the hand of Mary of Burgundy appeared on
the scene successively. To Nicholas of Calabria, Duke of Lorraine,
grandson of old King René of Anjou, she was formally betrothed.[9]
"My cousin, since it is the pleasure of my very redoubtable seigneur
and father, I promise you that, you being alive, I will take none
other than you and I promise to take you when God permits it." So
wrote Mary with her own hand on June 13, 1472, at Mons. On December
3d, she declared all such pledges revoked as though they never had
been made, and Nicholas, too, formally renounced his pretensions to
her hand.
There were several moments when Charles of France had appeared to be
very near acceptance as Mary's husband, and several other princes
seemed eligible suitors. Doubtless her father found his daughter very
valuable as a means of attracting friendship. Doubtless, too, as
Commines says, he was not anxious to introduce any son-in-law into his
family. His fortieth year was only completed in 1473, and he was by no
means ready to range himself as an ancestor.
At successive times the negotiations between Charles and Frederic were
ruptured only to be renewed on some slightly different basis. Threaded
together they made a story fraught with interest for Louis XI., and
one that, very probably, he had an opportunity to hear. Up to August,
1472, it is a safe inference that Philip de Commines was fully
cognisant of the propositions and counter-propositions, the
understandings and misunderstandings, the private letters of, as well
as the interviews with, the accredited Austrian envoys that appeared
at one Burgundian camp after another. Probably there was nothing more]
valuable in the store of learning carried by the astute historian from
his first patron to his second than all this fund of confidential
miscellany.
It seems a fair surmise that Louis XI. enjoyed immensely the
delightful private view into his rival's dreams, the disappointments
and rehabilitation of his shattered visions. The relation would have
made him not only fully aware of the reasons why Charles was diverted
from his hot pursuit of the Somme towns, but thoroughly informed as to
the great obstacles lying in the path which the duke hoped to travel.
Naturally, the king was quite willing to rest assured that ruin was
inevitable. If his rival were disposed to wreck himself rashly on
German shoals, the king was equally disposed to be an acquiescent
onlooker and to spare his own powder.
On his part, Charles was wholly unconscious of the extent of his loss
of prestige within the French realm in 1472. There had been other
periods when the king had appeared triumphant over his aspiring nobles
only to be again checked by their alliance. In the radical change
undergone by the feudatories after Guienne's death and Brittany's
reconciliation, there was, however, no opening left for the Duke
of Burgundy's re-entry as a French political leader. It was this
definitive cessation of his importance that Charles failed to
recognise. Confident that his star was rising in the east he did
not note the significance of its setting in the west. Thereupon the
situation was,--Charles, believing that his plans were his own
secret, _versus_ Louis, fully advised of those plans and alert to all
incidents of the past, present, and future in a fashion impossible to
the duke in his absorbed contemplation of his own prospects, blocking
the scope of his view.
With the emperor's congratulations at the duke's accession to
Guelders, and his offers to invest him with the title, were coupled
intimations that it was an opportune moment to resume consideration of
an alliance between the Archduke Maximilian and Mary of Burgundy. The
duke accepted the new overtures, and Rudolf de Soulz and Peter
von Hagenbach proceeded to the Burgundian and Austrian courts
respectively, as confidential envoys to discuss the marriage.[10]
Charles was far more gracious to De Soulz than he had been to the
last imperial messenger, the Abbé de Casanova, who had restricted his
proposals to Mary's fortunes and ignored her father's. The duke had no
intention of permitting any conference to proceed on that line. He was
explicit as to his requisitions. De Soulz was surprised by a gift of
ten thousand florins, explained by the phrase, "because Monseigneur
recognised the love and affection borne him by the said count." That
was a simple retainer. Other benefits, offices, and estates were
conferred, to take effect on the day when Monseigneur was named King
of the Romans.
The instructions to Hagenbach were definite, covering the ground
of those previously mentioned, issued in 1470. He was, however,
especially enjoined to assure Frederic that the duke did not require
his abdication. He would be content to step into the shoes naturally
vacated by his death.
The final suggestion resulting from these parleyings was that an
interview between the two principals would be far more satisfactory
than any further interchange of messages. It was not only a propitious
time for a conference, but it was necessary. The ceremony of
investiture of the duke into his latest acquired fief made it
evidently imperative that he should visit the emperor. And to
preparations for that event, Charles turned his attention, now
absolutely confident that the outcome must be to his satisfaction. He
had as little comprehension of the character of the man with whom he
was to deal as he had of Louis XI. The choice of a place caused some
difficulty, each prince preferring a locality near his own frontier.
Metz was selected and abandoned on account of an epidemic. Finally
Trèves was appointed for the important occasion, and Frederic sent
official invitations to the princes of the empire to follow him
thither in October.
Illustration: MARY OF BURGUNDY (AFTER THE DESIGN BY C. LAPLANTE)]
Before Charles arrived at the rendezvous, another event had occurred
that had an important bearing on his fortunes. Nicholas, Duke of
Lorraine, died (July 27th), leaving no direct heir. He had been
relinquished as a son-in-law, but the geographical position of his
duchy made the question of its sovereignty all important to Charles of
Burgundy. If it could be under his own control, how convenient for
the passage of his troops from Luxemburg to the south! The taste for
duchies like many another can grow by what it feeds upon.
Prepared to set out for his journey to Trèves, Charles hastened his
movements and proceeded to Metz with an escort so large that it had a
formidable aspect to the city fathers. Whether they feared that their
free city was too tempting a base for attack on Lorraine or not, the
magistrates yet found it expedient to keep the Burgundian thousands
without their walls. The emperor, too, was on his way to Trèves. Many
of his suite were occupying quarters in Metz. Room might be found for
Charles and his immediate retainers, indeed, but the troops must make
themselves as comfortable as possible outside the gates. So said the
burgomaster, and Charles was forced to yield and he made a splendid
entry into the town under the prescribed conditions.
His own paraphernalia had been forwarded from Antwerp, so that
there should be an abundance of plate, tapestry, etc., to grace his
temporary quarters, and the forests of Luxemburg had been scoured to
secure game for the banquets.
It was all very fine, but Charles was not in a humour to be pleased.
He was annoyed about his troops; very probably he had intended leaving
a portion at Metz, ready to be available in Lorraine if occasion
offered. He cut short his stay in the town and marched on with his
imposing escort to Trèves, whence he hoped to march out again a
greater personage than any Duke of Burgundy had ever been.[11]
[Footnote 1: Commines, iv., ch. i.]
[Footnote 2: _Hist. de l'Ordre,_ etc., p. 64. One of the places to be
filled at this session was that of Frank van Borselen, the widower
of Jacqueline, Countess of Holland. Thus the last faint trace of the
ancient family disappeared. It is expressly stated in the minutes of
the session that Adolf of Guelders was asked to nominate candidates
from his prison, but he would not do it. Striking is Charles's remark
on the nomination of the son of the King of Naples. Considering that
the Order was already decorated and honoured by four kings, very
excellent, he judged it more _à propos_ to distribute the five empty
collars within his own states. Nevertheless the infant was elected, as
was also Engelbert of Nassau.
Various members are criticised as permitted by the rules of the Order.
There was reproach for Anthony the Bastard for taking a gift of 20,000
crowns from Louis XI. Payable as it was in terms, it savoured of a
pension. Had Henry van Borselen done all he could to prevent Warwick's
landing in England? etc.
Among the minor pieces of business discussed was the disposition of
the scarlet mantles now discarded by the chevaliers. It was decided
after deliberation that they should be sold and the proceeds applied
to the purchase of tapestries for the chapel of Dijon, and the
treasurer was deputed to see about it. Perhaps it was in this
connection that the discussion turned on the wide-spread use, or
rather abuse of gold and velvet. It tended to depreciate the Order and
the state of chivalry. But the sovereign thought it best to defer this
point until his return from his proposed journey to Guelders. Lengthy,
too, were the discussions upon the exact usage in respect to wearing
the collar and insignia of the Order.]
[Footnote 3: The first sum named was three hundred thousand.]
[Footnote 4: _The Paston Letters, iii., 79._.]
[Footnote 5: See _Mémoires Couronnés_, xlix., 180.]
[Footnote 6: Toutey, p. 42; Lenglet, ii., 207. August 14th the Duke
of Burgundy crossed the Rhine and made his way to Nimwegen where the
ambassador of the emperor visited him.]
[Footnote 7: This instruction, printed by Lenglet (iii., 238) from the
Godefroy edition of Commines, has no date and has been referred to
1472. From internal evidence it seems fair to conclude that it belongs
rather to 1470. The question of the marriage comes in at the end of
the paper, the first part being devoted to Swiss affairs.]
[Footnote 8: Toutey, p. 36.]
[Footnote 9: Lenglet, iii., 192.]
[Footnote 10: Toutey, p. 44; Chmel, _Monumenta Habsburgica, I, 3._]
[Footnote 11: Toutey, p. 46.]