"If, on the contrary, you shall adhere to the purpose you have declared, in violation of the terms of the contract and of your princely word, we shall make resistance, trusting with God's help that our ability in defence shall not prove inferior to what we have used to repulse the attacks of the Swiss—those attacks from which you sought and received our protection."

Before this letter reached its destination, the duke's deputy in the mortgaged lands had already found his resources wholly inadequate to maintain his master's authority. After Charles departed from Alsace, Hagenbach's increased insolence and abandonment of all the restraint that he had shown while awaiting the duke's visit soon became unbearable. The deliberations in Switzerland concerning their return to Austrian domination also naturally affected the Alsatians and made them bolder in resenting Hagenbach's aggressions.

Thann and Ensisheim were both firm in refusing admission to his garrisons. Brisac was in his hands already, and her fortifications held by mercenaries, but an order to the citizens to work, one and all, upon the defences, produced a sudden disturbance with very serious results. It was at Eastertide, and the command to desecrate a hallowed festival, one especially cherished in the Rhinelands, proved the final provocation to rebellion.

There is a black story in the Strasburg chronicle, moreover, that this misuse of Easter Day was not Hagenbach's real crime. He simply wished to get all combatants out of the city before butchering the inhabitants and his purpose was discovered in time. That charge does not, however, seem substantiated by other evidence. But there is no doubt that the citizens lashed themselves into a state of fury, fell upon the mercenaries, and killed many of them in spite of their own unarmed condition. Hagenbach, driven back into his lodgings, appeared at the window and offered various concessions, being actually humbled and intimidated by the unexpected turning of the submissive folk against him.

But the revolutionary spirit raged beyond the reach of conciliatory words. Some of the more intelligent burghers endeavoured to give a show of propriety to events, by promptly re-establishing their own ancient council, arbitrarily abolished by Hagenbach, while taking a new oath to the Duke of Burgundy, according to the formula of 1469. They also despatched envoys to the duke with explanations of their proceedings, stating further that it was Hagenbach's misrule alone to which protest was made; that they were not in revolt against Charles. The latter answered, "Send Hagenbach to me," but the provisional government, by the time they received this order, felt strong enough to disregard it and to continue to act on their own initiative.

Hagenbach was cast not only into prison but into irons. All fear of and respect for his authority was thrown to the winds, his offer of fourteen thousand florins as ransom being sternly refused.

Deputations came from the confederation to congratulate the officials de facto and to promise aid. The next step gave the lie direct to the message sent to Charles upholding his authority while protesting against his lieutenant. Sigismund was urged to return to his own without further delay for legal formalities with his creditor. He assented. On April 30th, accordingly, the Austrian duke arrived in Brisac and picked up the reins of authority which he had joyfully dropped four years previously.

The rabble welcomed his coming with effusion, singing a ready parody of an Easter hymn:[8]

"Christ is arisen, the landvogt is in prison, Let us all rejoice, Sigismund is our choice. Kyrie Eleison! Had he not been snared, evil had it fared, But now that he is ta'en, his craft is all in vain. Kyrie Eleison!"

Thus it was under Sigismund's auspices that the late governor was brought to trial. Instruments of torture sent from Basel were employed to make Hagenbach confess his crimes. But there was nothing to confess. As a matter of fact the charges against him were for well-known deeds the character of which depended on the point of view. What the Alsatians declared were infringements of their rights, the duke's deputy stoutly asserted were acts justified by the terms of the treaty. In regard to his private career the prisoner persisted in his statement that he was no worse than other men and that all his so-called victims had been willing and well rewarded for their submission to him.

On May 9th, the preliminaries were declared over and the trial began before a tribunal whose composition is not perfectly well known, but which certainly included delegates from the chief cities of the landgraviate, and from Strasburg, Basel, and Berne.[9]

The trial was practically lynch law in spite of the cloak of legality thrown over it. Charles alone was Hagenbach's principal and he alone was responsible for his lieutenant's acts. The intrinsic incompetence of the court was hotly urged by Jean Irma of Basel, Hagenbach's self-appointed advocate, but his defence was rejected. Public opinion insisted upon extreme measures, and the sentence of capital punishment was promptly followed by execution.

Petitions from the prisoner that he might die by the sword and be permitted to bequeath a portion of his property to the church of St. Etienne at Brisac were granted. The remainder of his wealth was confiscated by Sigismund, who had withdrawn to Fribourg during the progress of the trial. Even Hagenbach's bitterest foes acknowledged that the late governor made a dignified and Christian exit from the life he had not graced.

Charles is said to have beaten well the messenger who brought him the news of this trial and execution, in the very presence of Sigismund who had not yet bought back his rights in the landgraviate, where he had appointed Oswald von Thierstein as governor, and where he was thus presuming to use sovereign power. This was not sufficient, however, to make the duke change his own plans. Stephen von Hagenbach was entrusted with the commission of punishing the Alsatians for his brother's ignominious deposition, and he did his task grimly. According to the Strasburg chronicler, this Hagenbach, at the north, and his colleague, the Count of Blamont, at the south, did not have more than six or eight thousand men apiece, but they left Hun-like reputations behind them. Devastation, slaughter, pillage in houses and churches, all in the name of the duke, contributed to the zeal with which the Austrian's return was ratified by popular acclamation, and with which the contingents sent to Alsace by the confederates were received.

Sigismund's letter to Charles is casual in tone and obscure in phraseology. A statement presented somewhat later to the emperor by the Basse Union is more precise in the justification offered for the events and in the grievances rehearsed.[10] That is, Sigismund treats the transaction as a purely financial one, naturally completed between him and his creditor by the offer to liquidate his debt. The plea made by the Alsatians and their friends is, that Charles had failed to keep his solemn engagements and that his appointed lieutenant had been peculiarly odious and had broken the laws of God and man, and that the mercenaries employed by him, the Burgundians, Lombardians, and their fellows, had pitilessly ravaged the county of Ferrette, the Sundgau, and the diocese of Basel. The charges are itemised.[11]

"All this, well-known to the Duke of Burgundy, has neither been checked nor punished by him. In consequence, our gracious Seigneur of Austria has been obliged to restore the land and people to his sovereignty and that of the House of Austria, which he has done with God's aid to prevent the complete annihilation and total destruction of land and people."

Charles did not hasten to Alsace to settle matters in person, but pursued his intention of reducing Cologne to the archbishop's control, undoubtedly thinking that the base which would then be open to the archbishop's protector on the lower Rhine would facilitate his operations in the upper valleys. Meanwhile the Emperor Frederic had emphatically declared that he alone was the Defender of the Diocese, and that the unholy alliance between Robert and Charles was a menace to the empire. His letters to Charles exhorted him to abandon the enterprise and to accept mediation; those to the electors, princes, and cities of the empire urged them to defend Cologne against Burgundy until he himself arrived on the scene. There was a hot correspondence between all parties concerned, from which nothing resulted. Charles had various reasons for delay. There was trouble in other quarters of his domain. Flanders was in a state of ferment at his requisitions for money, and the Franche-Comte was on the point of making active resistance to the imposition of the gabelle.

In view of all these complications, Charles decided to prolong his truce with Louis XI., to May 1, 1475. That monarch was well pleased to continue to pursue his own plans under cover of neutrality. The determination of the anti-Burgundian coalition in Germany to keep Charles within the limits of his own estates was a pleasant sight to the French king, and he felt that he could afford to wait.

In June an edict was sent forth from Luxemburg, forbidding all owing allegiance to the Duke of Burgundy to have any commercial relations with the rebels of Cologne, or of Alsace, or with the cities of the Basse Union, and declaring the duke's intention to take the field at once, to reinstate the archbishop in his rightful see. This was a declaration of war and was speedily followed by the duke's advance to Maestricht, where he spent a few days in July, collecting a force which finally amounted to about twenty thousand men.

On the 29th he sat down before Neuss, which had again emphatically refused entry to him and his troops. Three days the duke gave himself for the reduction of the town, but there he remained encamped for nearly a whole year! Neuss was resolved to resist to the last extremity, while Bonn, Andernach, and Cologne contributed their assistance by worrying and harassing the besiegers to the best of their ability. It was a period when Charles seemed to have only one sure ally, and that was Edward of England, whose own plans were forming for a mighty enterprise—no less than a new invasion of France.

On July 25th, the very day that Charles was on his march up to Neuss, his envoys signed at London a treaty wherein the duke promised Edward six thousand men to aid him to "reconquer his realm of France." Nothing loth to dispose of his future chickens, Edward, in his turn, pledged himself to cede to Charles and his heirs, without any lien of vassalage, the duchy of Bar, the countships of Champagne, Nevers, Rethel, Eu, and Guise, all the towns on the Somme, and all the estates of the Count of St. Pol. Other territories of Charles were to be exempt from homage. Yes, and by June 1, 1475, Edward would land in France and set about his conquests. Nor were commercial interests forgotten; "to the duchess his sister (to the Flemings) is accorded permission, to take from England wool, woollen goods, brass, lead, and to carry thither foreign merchandise."

The year when Charles was waiting before the gates of Neuss was full of many abortive diplomatic efforts on the part of both the duke and Louis XI, and it was the latter who managed to save something even from broken bargains. The Swiss not only counted on his friendship, but were constantly encouraged by his money, which emboldened them to send a letter of open defiance to Charles: "We declare to your most serene highness and to all of your people, in behalf of ourselves and our friends, an honourable and an open war." To the herald who delivered this document Charles answered: "O Berne, Berne!"[12] He felt that he had been betrayed.

This was on October 26th. The defiance was followed by a descent of the mountaineers upon Alsace, which Charles had not yet released from his grasp. Stephen von Hagenbach prepared to defend Burgundian interests at Hericourt, a good strategic position on the tiny Luzine. Here, the Swiss were about to besiege him, when the Count of Blamont arrived with two bodies of Italian mercenaries, aggregating more than twelve thousand men, and attempted to draw off the besieging force. His plan failed—the tables were turned. It was the Burgundians who were fiercely attacked and who lost the day. Hagenbach was forced to surrender, obtaining honourable terms, however, and Sigismund put a garrison into Hericourt on November 16th.

This was a tremendous surprise to Charles. That cowherds could repulse his well-trained troops was a thought as bitter as it was unexpected. But he put aside all idea of punishing them for the moment, and continued to "reduce Neuss to the obedience of the good archbishop," and Hermann of Hesse continued to aid the town in its determined resistance.

The opprobrious names applied to the would-be and baffled conqueror at this time are curiously similar to the epithets hurled at Napoleon a few centuries later. He was compared to Anti-Christ himself, with demoniac attributes added, when Alexander was felt to be too mild a comparison. There was still a terrible fear of the duke's ambition, even though, in the face of all Europe, the Swiss had repulsed his men, and Neuss obstinately refused to open her gates, while the world wondered at the duke's obstinacy displayed in the wrong place. The belief expressed several times by Commines that God troubled Charles's understanding out of very pity for France, was a current rumour.

At the end of April an English embassy arrived at the camp, which was kept in a marvellous state of luxury, even though disease was not successfully curbed in the ranks. The urgent entreaty of the embassy was that Charles should raise this useless siege, fruitless as it promised to be, owing to the difficulty of cutting off the town's supplies. Edward IV was almost ready to despatch his invading army. He implored his dear brother to send him transports and to prepare to receive him when he landed. A letter from John Paston gives a glimpse into the situation[13]:

"For ffor tydyngs here ther be but ffewe saffe that the assege lastyth stylle by the Duke off Burgoyn affoor Nuse, and the Emperor hath besyged also not fferr from there a castill and another town in lykewyse wherin the Duke's men ben. And also, the Frenshe Kynge, men seye, is comen right to the water off Somme with 4000 spers; and sum men have that he woll, at the daye off brekyng off trewse, or else beffoor, sette uppon the Duks contreys heer. When I heer moor, I shall sende yowe moor tydyngs.

"The Kyngs imbassators, Sir Thomas Mongomere and the Master off the Rolls be comyng homwards ffrom Nuse; and as ffor me, I thynke I sholde be sek but iff I see it....

"For it is so that to morrow I purpose to ryde in to Flaundyrs to purveye me off horse and herneys and percase I shall see the essege at Nwse er I come ageyn."

There was more reason for Charles to be heartsick at the sight than for John Paston, and he did grow weary of the further waiting and anxious, for his truce with Louis was drawing to a close. On May 22d, there was a skirmish between his troops and the imperial forces, wherein Charles claimed the victory. In reality, there was none on either side, but the semblance was sufficient to soothe his amour propre, and to convince him that an accommodation with Frederic would not detract from his dignity.

A large fleet of Dutch flatboats had been despatched to help convey the English army, thirsting for conquest, across the sea. Six thousand men in the duke's pay, too, were to be ready to meet Edward IV., and swell his escort as he marched to Rheims for his coronation. Other matters also demanded Charles's personal attention. Months had elapsed and Hericourt was unpunished—Berne had not been reproved.

Rene of Lorraine was formally admitted to the League of Constance on April 18, 1475, and was now ready openly to abjure the "protection" he had once accepted from Burgundy. There was a touch of old King Rene's theatrical taste in his grandson's method of despatching the herald who rode up to the duke's gorgeous tent of red velvet on May 10th. The man was, however, so overcome at the first view of le Temeraire that he hastily delivered up his letter, and threw down the blood-stained gauntlet, which he carried as a gage of war, without uttering a word. Then he fell on his knees, imploring the duke's pardon.[14] Charles was so little displeased at the signs of the impression his presence made that, instead of being angry with the man, he gave him twelve florins for his good news. The terms of the declaration of war carried by the herald were as follows:

"To thee, Charles of Burgundy, in behalf of the very high, etc., Duke of Lorraine, my seigneur, I announce defiance with fire and blood against thee, thy countries, thy subjects, thy allies, and other charge further have I not."[15]

The reply was straightforward:

"Herald, I have heard the exposition of thy charge, whereby thou hast given me subject for joy, and, to show you how matters are, thou shalt wear my robe with this gift, and shalt tell thy master that I will find myself briefly in his land, and my greatest fear is that I may not find him. In order that thou mayst not be afraid to return, I desire my marshal and the king-at-arms of the Toison d'Or to convoy thee in perfect safety, for I should be sorry if thou didst not make thy report to thy master as befits a good and loyal officer."

Thus was Charles pressed from the south and lured to the north. Excellent reason for obeying the order of the pope's legate that duke and emperor must lay down arms under pain of excommunication did either belligerent refuse! The armistice accepted on May 28th was followed by a nine months' truce signed on June 12th. It was a truce strictly to the advantage of Frederic and Charles. The Rhine cities, Louis XI., Rene of Lorraine, were alike ignored and disappointed in the expectations they had based on Frederic.

[Footnote 1: Plancher, Histoire generale et particuliere de Bourgogne, avec des notes et des preuves justificatives, iv., cccxxviii.]

[Footnote 2: Preparations for the duke's visit to Dijon had been set on foot almost immediately after Philip's death in 1467. One Frere Gilles had devoted many hours to searching the Scriptures for appropriate texts to figure in the reception. Every phrase indicating leonine strength was noted down. The good brother died before the anticipated event came to pass but the result of his patient labour was preserved.]

[Footnote 3: Dit qu'il avoit en soi des choses qui n'appartenoient de scavoir a nuls que a lui (Plancher, Preuves, iv., cccxxxiii.).]

[Footnote 4: Plancher, Preuves, iv., cccxxxiii. The document describing this ceremony gives February 28th as the date, but that is evidently an error and not accepted.]

[Footnote 5: Toutey, p. 117.]

[Footnote 6: There are many records in theBibl. nat.. of the sums paid out to the Swiss at this time.]

[Footnote 7: Chmel, i., 92 et seq.]

[Footnote 8: Kirk, ii., 488.]

[Footnote 9: Toutey, p. 141.]

[Footnote 10: Text given by Toutey, Pieces justificatives, p. 442.]

[Footnote 11: The details are very brutal and untranslatable.]

[Footnote 12: Toutey, p. 182.]

[Footnote 13: Paston Letters, iii., 122.]

[Footnote 14: Toutey, p. 244.]

[Footnote 15: Bulletin de l'acad. royale de Belgique, 1887.]



CHAPTER XX

THE CAMPAIGNS OF 1475

"Monseigneur the chancellor, I do not know what to write to you of the English, for thus far they have done nothing but dance at St. Omer and we are not sure whether the King of England has landed. If he has, it must be with so small a force that it makes no noise, nor do the prisoners captured at Abbeville know anything, nor do they believe that there will be any English here in XL days. Tell the news to Monsg. de Comminge, and recommend my interests to him as I have confidence in him, and in Mons. de Thierry and Mons. the vice-admiral."[1]

Thus wrote Louis XI in June. Two days later and he has heard of the truce. He seizes the occasion to express to the Privy Council of Berne his real opinion of the emperor: "So Frederic has deserted us all!"[2] Well, it was not the first time! Thirty years previous, when Louis was dauphin, the emperor had tried to turn the Swiss against him. Had not God, knowing the hearts of men, inspired the brave mountaineers, Louis would have been a victim of execrable treachery. The outcome had been wonderful, for an eternal friendship had sprung up between him and the Swiss which must be preserved.

Meantime, Charles has made his own definite plan of the campaign which was to introduce Edward into Rheims for the coronation. The following letter from him to Edward IV. bears no date, but it was evidently written at about the time of the truce[3]:

"Honoured seigneur and brother, I recommend myself to you. I have listened carefully to your declaration through the pronotary, and understand that you do not wish to land without my advice, for which I thank you. I understand that some of your counsellors think you had better land in Guienne, others in Normandy, others again at Calais. If you choose Guienne you will be far from my assistance but my brother of Brittany could help you. Still it would be a long time before we could meet before Paris. As to Calais, you could not get enough provisions for your people nor I for mine. Nor could the two forces make juncture without attack, and my brother of Brittany would be very far from both. To my mind, your best landing is Normandy, either at the mouth of the Seine or at La Hogue. I do not doubt that you will soon gain possession of cities and places, and you will be at the right hand of my brother of Brittany and of me. Tell me how many ships you want and where you wish me to send them and I will do it."

On hearing further rumours of the actual arrival of the English, Louis hastened to Normandy to inspect the situation for himself. There he learned that his own naval forces stationed in the Channel to ward off the invaders had landed on the very day before his arrival, abandoning the task.

"When I heard that we took no action, I decided that my best plan would be to turn my people loose in Picardy and let them lay waste the country whence they [the English] expected to get their supplies."[4]

At the same time, the rumour that was permitted to be current in France was, that Charles of Burgundy had been utterly defeated at Neuss, and that there was nothing whatsoever to apprehend from him. He, meanwhile, was continuing his own preparations by strenuous endeavours to levy more troops and to obtain fresh supplies. After the signing of the convention with the emperor, the duke proceeded to Bruges to meet the Estates of Flanders. The answer to his demand for subsidies was a respectful refusal to furnish funds, on the plea that his expansion policy was ruining his lands. Counter reproaches burst from Charles. He accused the deputies of leaving him in the lurch and thus causing his failure at Neuss. Neither money, nor provisions, nor soldiers had they sent him as loyal subjects should.



"For whom does your prince labour? Is it for himself or for you, for your defence? You slumber, he watches. You nestle in warmth, he is cold. You are snug in your houses while he is beaten by the wind and rain. He fasts, you gorge at your ease.... Henceforth you shall be nothing more than subjects under a sovereign. I am and I will be master, bearding those who oppose me."[5]

Then turning to the prelates he continued: "Do you obey diligently and without poor excuses or your temporal goods shall be confiscated." To the nobles: "Obey or you shall lose your heads and your fiefs." Finally, he addressed the deputies of the third estate in a tone full of bitterness: "And you, you eaters of good cities, if you do not obey my orders literally as my chancellor will explain them to you, you shall forfeit privileges, property, and life."

All the fervency of this adjuration failed to convince the deputies of their duty, as conceived by the orator. They declared that they had levied troops and would levy more, for defence, but that the four members of Flanders were agreed that they would contribute nothing to offensive measures. Charles must accept their decision as his sainted father had done. The details of all the aid they had given him, 2500 men for Neuss and many other contributions, were recapitulated. Flanders had been generous indeed. The concluding phrases of their answer were as follows:

"As to your last letters, requiring that within fifteen days every man capable of bearing arms report at Ath, these were orders impossible of execution, and unprofitable for you yourself. Your subjects are merchants, artisans, labourers, unfitted for arms. Strangers would quit the land. Commerce, in which your noble ancestors have for four hundred years maintained the land, commerce, most redoubtable seigneur, is irreconcilable with war."

This answer gave the true key to the situation. The Estates of Flanders were determined to be bled no further for schemes in which they did not sympathise. When this memorial was presented to Charles he broke out into fresh invective about the base ingratitude of the Flemish: "Take back your paper," were his last words. "Make your own answer. Talk as you wish, but do your duty." This was on July 12th. Charles had no further time to waste in argument. He was still convinced that the burghers would, in the end, yield to his demands.

With a small escort Charles left Bruges, and reached Calais on July 14th, where he had been preceded by the duchess, eager to greet her brother, who had actually landed on July 4th, with the best equipped army—about twenty-four thousand men—that had ever left the shores of England, and the latest inventions in besieging engines.

The expedition proved a wretched failure—a miserable disappointment to the English at home, who had been lavish in their contributions. Charles seems to have been put out by the place of landing. His own plan is clear from the letter quoted. He wished the two armies of Edward and himself to sweep a large stretch of territory as they marched toward each other. The one thing that he objected to was a consolidation of the two forces. Incapacity to turn an unexpected or an unwelcome situation to account was one of the duke's most deeply ingrained characteristics. He showed no inventiveness or resourcefulness. He held his own army at a distance from the English, much to the invader's chagrin, who was forced to march unaided over regions rendered inhospitable by Louis's stern orders, and outside of cities ready to hold him at bay. "If you do not put yourself in a state of security, it will be necessary to destroy the city, to our regret," was the king's message to Rheims, and the most skilful of French engineers was fully prepared to make good the words.

Open hostilities were avoided. Edward camped on the field of Agincourt, where perhaps he dreamed of his ancestor's success, but no fresh blaze of old English glory illumined his path. He did not proceed to Paris, there was no coronation at Rheims, no comfortable reception within any gates at all, for Charles was as chary as Louis himself of giving the English a foothold, though he advised Edward to accept an invitation from St. Pol to visit St. Quentin. This, however, proved another disappointment. Just as Edward was ready to enter, the gates opened to let out a troop which effectually repulsed the advancing foreigners. The Count of St. Pol had changed his mind.

"It is a miserable existence this of ours when we take toil and trouble enough to shorten our life, writing and saying things exactly opposite to our thoughts," writes the keenest observer of this elaborate network of pompous falsehoods[6] wherein every action was entangled. Louis XI trusted no one but himself, while he played with the trust of all, and his game was the safest. His fear of the invaders was soon allayed. "These English are of different metal from those whom you used to know. They keep close, they attempt nothing," he wrote to the veteran Dammartin.

It was, indeed, a patent fact that Edward was not a foe to be feared. Baffled and discouraged, he readily opened his ears to his French brother, and Louis heaped grateful recognition on every Englishman who helped incline his sovereign to peaceful negotiations. Velvet and coin did their work. Edward was easily led into the path of least resistance, and an interview between the rival kings was appointed for August 29th. Great preparations were made for their meeting on a bridge at Picquigny, across which a grating was erected. Like Pyramus and Thisbe, the two princes kissed each other through the barriers, and exchanged assurances of friendship. Edward was, indeed, so easy to convince that Louis was in absolute terror lest his English brother would accept his invitation to show him Paris before his return. No wonder Edward was deceived, for Louis was definite in his hospitable offers, suggesting that he would provide a confessor willing to give absolution for pleasant sins.

The duke was duly forewarned of this colloquy. On August 18th, he was staying at Peronne, whence he paid a visit to the English camp. It was ended without any intimation of Edward's change of heart towards the French king whom he had come to depose, though his plan was then ripe. On the 20th, Charles received a written communication with the news which Edward had disliked broaching orally, and was officially informed that the king had yielded to the wishes of his army, and was considering a treaty with Louis XI., wherein Edward's dear brother of Burgundy should receive honourable mention did he desire it.

On hearing these most unwelcome tidings, Charles set off for the English camp in hot haste, attended by a small escort, and nursing his wrath as he rode.[7] King Edward was rather alarmed at the duke's aspect when the latter appeared, and asked whether he would not like a private interview. Charles disregarded his question. "Is it true? Have you made peace?" he demanded. Edward's attempt at smooth explanations was blocked by a flood of invectives poured out by Charles, who remembered himself sufficiently to speak in English so that the bystanders might have the full benefit of his passionate reproaches. He spared nothing, comparing the lazy, sensual, pleasure-loving monarch, whose easeful ways were rapidly increasing his weight of flesh, with the heroism of other English Edwards with whom he was proud to claim kin. As to the offers to remember his interests in the perfidious peace that perfidious Albion was about to swear with equally perfidious France, his rejection was scornful indeed. "Negotiate for me! Arbitrate for me! Is it I who wanted the French crown? Leave me to make my own truce. I will wait until you have been three months over sea." Among those who witnessed the scene were several Englishmen who sympathised with Charles—if we may believe Commines. "The Duke of Burgundy has said the truth," declared the Duke of Gloucester, and many agreed with him." Having given vent to his sentiments, Charles hurried away from his disappointing ally and reached Namur on the 22d, where he spent the night.

Edward troubled himself little about his brother-in-law's summary of his character. He was tired of camp hardships, and both he and his men found it very refreshing to have Amiens open her gates to them at the order of Louis XI. Food and wine were lavished upon all alike. It was a delightful experience for the English soldiers to see tables groaning with good things spread in the very streets, and to be bidden to order what they would at the taverns with no consideration for the reckoning. They enjoyed good French fare, free of charge, until their host intimated to King Edward that his men were very intoxicated and that there were limits in all things. But Louis did not spare his money or his pains until he was sure that a bloodless victory had been won. He fully realised the importance of extravagant expenditure in order to reach the goal he had set himself.

"We must have the whole sum at Amiens before Friday evening, besides what will be wanted for private gratifications to my Lord Howard, and others who have had part in the arrangement.... Do not fail in this that there may be no pretext for a rupture of what has been already settled."

Though they had now no rood of land, the English returned richer than they came, and they eased their amour propre by calling the sums that had changed hands, "tribute money."[8]

"Ryght reverend and my most tender and kynd Moodre, I recommende me to youw. Pleas it yow to weete that blessyd be God, this vyage of the kynges is fynnysshyd for thys tyme and alle the kynges ost is comen to Caleys as on Mondaye last past, that is to seye the iiij daye of Septembre, and at thys daye many of hys host be passyd the see in to Ingland ageyn, and in especiall my Lorde off Norfolk, and my bretheryn ....I also mysselyke somewhat the heyr heer; for by my trowte I was in goode heele whan I come hyddre and all hooll and to my wetyng I hadde never a better stomake in my lyffe and now in viij dayes I am crasyd ageyn."[9]

Thus wrote one Englishman from Calais and doubtless many others found the air more wholesome at home.

Charles of Burgundy was now ready to consider the affairs of Lorraine. He advised Rene of his intentions, in a manifesto which reached him on September 5th. The preamble contained a long list of the manifold benefits conferred upon Lorraine by the House of Burgundy. Then Rene was admonished to observe in every particular the terms of his own treaty with Charles, which he, Rene, had signed voluntarily, or the former would "make him know the difference between his friendship and his enmity."

This menace was ominous to the poor Duke of Lorraine. For on September 13th, his friend Louis XI. had signed a fresh treaty with Charles of Burgundy at Soleure, and Campobasso was marching mercenaries in Burgundian pay towards the unfortunate duchy. In other words, the French king abandoned the young protege whom he had spared no pains to alienate from Burgundian protection. It was a moment when his one interest apparently was to settle accounts with the Count of St. Pol, who had been equally treacherous in his dealings with England, Burgundy, and France.[10]

Having rested during the summer, the Burgundian troops were in fine trim when Charles marched to Nancy, taking towns on the way, and sat down before the capital in the last week of October. From his camp he wrote to the Duke of Milan:

"Very dear brother, I recommend myself to you. I have just accepted a truce with the king for nine years to come, in the form and manner contained at length in the copy of the articles which I have given to your ambassador, resident with me . . . . And be sure, fratello mio, that nothing would have induced me to accept the truce, had you not been comprised therein. And, similarly, you must be satisfied in all the pacts between the king and myself, just as you were comprised in the convention lately made at Neuss.

"For the rest, I have heard from your ambassador about the troops that can be furnished me, for which I am well content, praying you to continue to serve me in accordance with the promises of your ambassador. As to the coming of your brother to me [Sforza, Duc de Bari], I should be very glad. He has no reason now for delay as he can travel in Lorraine as safely as in Lombardy, as I have said to your ambassador. Pray the Lord to give you the desires of your heart.

"Written in my camp at Nancy the penultimate day of October, 1475.

"CHARLES."[11]

Some trifling assistance was offered to Rene by Strasburg and other foes to Burgundy, but it was wholly insufficient to rescue him from his difficulties, and he was finally obliged to order the capitulation of Nancy on November 19th. The magistrates desired to hold out, but were forced by the populace to submit, and on November 30, 1475, Charles of Burgundy marched triumphantly through the gate of Craffe into the capital of Lorraine where he was received as the sovereign duke.[12]

This time Charles acted the role of a merciful and diplomatic conqueror. There was no cruelty permitted, and every evidence of conciliation was shown. The majority of the Lorrainers accepted the new order of things without further protest. At the end of December, Charles convened the Estates of Lorraine in the ducal palace, addressed them as his subjects of Burgundy, promised to be a good prince, demanded their attachment, confided his plans of expansion, and announced his intention of making Nancy the capital of his states. Again the duke's star rose. This acquisition seemed a sign of the reality of his dreams. Even before the fall of Nancy, his approaching success bore fruit, inasmuch as the emperor changed the late convention into a firmer treaty signed on November 17th. Indeed had Charles died at that moment, there would have been little doubt that his dreamed-of kingdom had been simply prevented by a mere accident.

The detailed story of all that had happened in the Swiss Confederation and the Lower Union, since their formal declaration of war against Charles, is too complicated to relate. At the begining of 1476, the situation was, briefly, that Sigismund held the debated mortgaged lands, while the Swiss allies, with Berne as the most militant member of the league, had continued to carry on offensive operations against the duke and his allies, notably the Duchess of Savoy. The conquest of Lorraine caused a panic, especially in the face of the fresh agreements between the duke and the emperor and the king.

There was a short period of hesitation, marked by a truce till January 1, 1476, between Charles and the confederates, a period when the timid among the allies urged their counsel of reconciliation at all hazards. Charles, too, seems to have desired an accord rather than hostilities, even though he still bore the Swiss a bitter grudge for Hericourt. It was probably appeals from Yolande of Savoy that decided him to open a campaign in midwinter.

"The prince has been so busy for a week past [wrote the Milanese ambassador] in the reorganisation of his army according to new ordinances, and in the regulation of his receipts and outlays that he has scarcely given himself time to eat once in twenty-four hours. He is importuned by the Duchess of Savoy and the Count of Romont for aid against the Swiss who respect no treaty, and do not cease increasing their forces. In consequence, Duke Charles intends leaving Nancy in six days to go towards the Jura. He expects to take with him 2300 lances and 10,000 ordnance, which, joined to the feudal militia of Burgundy and Savoy, will swell his army to the number of 25,000 combatants. His operations are so planned that he will have more to gain than to lose."[13]

When Charles left Nancy on January 11th, he issued one of his grandiloquent manifestoes declaring that he was acting in behalf of all princes and seigneurs who had suffered wrong at the hands of the Swiss, and that he was ready to punish all who had provoked his just wrath by ravaging his province of Burgundy. It was rather a curious act on his part, to let his chief mercenary captain go off to make a pilgrimage just as he was on the eve of a campaign, but so he did, granting Campobasso leave of absence to visit the shrine of St. James at Compostella, a leave possibly utilised by the Italian to further the understanding with Louis XI., at which he arrived later.

On across the Jura marched the Burgundian army, while the Swiss diet came to a slow and confused decision to prepare to meet him. He did not take the route generally expected, directly towards Berne, his chief antagonist, but turned aside and attacked the little fortress of Granson. The castle was not over strong. Efforts to provision it by water failed, and, finally, on February 28th, after a brief siege, the captain of the garrison, Hans Wyler, capitulated to the duke's German forces, who represented to them that Charles was as generous as he was magnificent.

If the Milan ambassador can be trusted, the surrender was unconditional. Charles was soon on the spot. The four hundred and twelve soldiers, who had succeeded in holding the Burgundian army at bay for ten whole days, were made to march past his tent with bowed heads. Then he ordered one and all to be hanged, reserving two to help in the executions. Four hours were occupied in fulfilling these pitiless orders. Panigarola arrived at the camp on the 29th,—it was leap year, 1476,—and found this accomplished and saw the bodies hanging on the trees, but he asserts that no word was broken.[14] Charles was now absolutely confident of complete success. "Bellorum eventus dubii sunt," remarked the prudent Milanese, however, and he was proved right.

When the allied forces of the mountaineers finally arrived in the duke's neighbourhood a hot pitched battle ensued. The Burgundians, led by the duke in person, were thrown into utter confusion. The mercenaries, terrified by the uncouth yells and battle-cries of Uri and Unterwalden, simply lost their heads and did nothing. Charles was pushed on as far as Jougne. It was not only a defeat, but a complete rout. When the Swiss came in sight of the late garrison hanged to the trees, their rage knew no bounds. In their turn they massacred, hanged, and drowned every one in Burgundian pay whom they could lay hands upon. The Burgundians saved their lives when they could, but their valuable artillery and their baggage, the mass of riches that Charles carried with him were ruthlessly sacrificed, and gathered up contemptuously as booty by the Swiss, who cared little for the tapestries and jewels though they prized the gold. Such was the battle of Granson, on the 2nd of March.

The fatal mistake committed by Charles was that he despised his enemy and underestimated his quality as well as his strength. Just before engaging in battle, the whole Swiss army fell upon their knees in prayer that the issue might be successful. This action deceived Charles into thinking that they were cowardly and his opinion was shared by his men. A contemptuous laugh broke out from the Burgundian ranks.[15]

Olivier de la Marche ends a meagre account of Granson with the following rather barren words[16]:

"In short the Duke of Burgundy lost the day and was pushed back as far as Jougne, where he stopped, and it is meet that I tell how the duke's bodyguard saved themselves ... and reached Salins where I saw them arrive for I was not present at the battle on account of a malady I suffered. From Jougne the duke went to Noseret, and you can understand that he was very sad and melancholy at having lost the battle, where his rich baggage was stolen and his army shattered."

On March 21, 1476, Sir John Paston writes to Margaret Paston from Calais:

"As ffor tydyngs heer we her ffrom alle the worlde. ... Item, the Duke of Burgoyne hath conqueryd Lorreyn and Queen Margreet shall nott nowe be lykelyhod have it; wherffer the Frenshe kynge cheryssheth hyr butt easelye; but afftr thys conquest off Loreyn the Duke toke grete corage to goo upon the londe off the Swechys [Swiss] to conquer them butt the berded hym att an onsett place and hathe dystrussyd hym and hathe slayne the most part of his vanwarde and wonne all hys ordynnaunce and artylrye and mor ovyr all stuffe thatt he hade in hys ost with hym; exceppte men and horse ffledde nott but they roode that nyght xx myle; and so the ryche saletts, heulmetts garters, nowchys[17] gelt and all is goone with tente pavylons and all and soo men deme hys pryde is abatyd. Men tolde hym that they were ffrowarde karlys butte he wolde nott beleve it and yitt men seye that he woll to them ageyn. Gode spede them bothe."

Many of the rumours that were current represented Charles as completely prostrated by his disaster. This was only half true. His efforts to retrieve himself were immediate but, physically, he certainly showed the effects of this campaign. He was attacked by a low fever, his stomach rejected food, insomnia afflicted his nights, and dropsical swellings appeared on his legs. This condition was attributed to his fatigues and exposure in a hard climate, and to his habit of drinking warm barley-water in the morning. He was urged to use a soft feather-bed instead of his hard couch, while Yolande's own physician and one Angelo Catto watched anxiously over him. The latter claimed the credit of saving his life. Charles was not, however, fully recovered when he resumed his activities and held a review on May 9th. With all his efforts exerted in every quarter likely to yield results, the whole number of troops was but twenty thousand men. Every onlooker felt that the duke was now trying to accomplish something quite beyond his resources.

"Illustrious prince [wrote the King of Hungary[18]], we cannot sufficiently wonder that you should have been so gravely deceived and that, after having once found that you were lured into loss and disgrace, again you let yourself be snared in a labyrinth from which you will either never escape, or escape only with damage and shame.... Without risk to himself [your foe] has precipitated you into an abyss and tied you where you are exposed to the loss of your possessions and your life.... We exhort you to pause before incurring heavier losses and greater dangers. If fortune smiles upon you in your attack on that people, you will have the whole empire against you. In the opposite event—which God avert—it will be turned into a common tale how a mighty prince was overcome by rustics whom there would have been no honour in conquering, while to be conquered by them would be an eternal disgrace."

This plain-spoken epistle failed to reach its destination until after the prophecy had been fulfilled. Its warning would probably have been futile had Charles read it before he marched on towards Berne, on June 8th. On the road that he chose lay the town of Morat, which had made ready for his approach. A few days to reduce it, and then on to Berne was his plan. His force succeeded in holding the ground and cutting off communication with Berne for three days. On the 14th, a messenger made his way through from the beleaguered city to Berne, and all the allies were then urged to do their best. The result was encouraging. "There are three times as many as at Granson, but let no one be dismayed, with God's help we will kill them all," wrote a leader of Berne.

The encounter came on June 23d. The force was really a formidable one. Rene of Lorraine was among the commanders on the side of the Swiss. It was a tremendous fight, brief as it was savage; at two o'clock the assault was made and within an hour Charles was repulsed. Almost all the infantry perished. The slain is estimated variously from ten to twenty-two thousand. Charles did not keep his vow to perish if defeated. To his assured allies he clung closely, and none had more reason to be faithful to him than Yolande of Savoy. After Granson he hastened to give the duchess his own view of the disaster:

"It has given me a singular pleasure to hear of your calmness and constancy of soul; for the thought of your affliction weighed more heavily upon me than what has befallen me ... every day diminishes the inconvenience and proves that the loss in men is less than we thought. Such as it is it came from a mere skirmish. The bulk of the armies did not engage, to my great displeasure. Had they fought the victory would have been mine. There has been none on either side. God, I trust, reserves it for you and for me ... the hope you have placed in me shall not be vain."

Thus he wrote on March 7th to encourage his anxious protegee.



After the second defeat it was to her that the duke turned again. In the very early morning after the battle of Morat, Charles paused at Morges on the Lake of Geneva, having ridden hard through the night. There he heard mass, breakfasted, rested awhile, and then rode on, reaching the castle of Gex at six o'clock in the evening, where Yolande of Savoy was awaiting his coming in full knowledge of the second disaster he had suffered.

At the foot of the staircase, attended by her ladies, Yolande was waiting to greet her disappointed friend. Charles dismounted and kissed each member of the family in order of precedence, the little duke, his brother, then the duchess, her daughter, and the ladies in waiting. Yolande had had time to move out of her own suite of apartments and have them prepared for her guest's use, and there the two talked together confidentially, while their attendants waited patiently just out of earshot.

Then Charles formally escorted his hostess to her son's room, returning to his own, showing signs of extreme fatigue. Panigarola was absent, but another Milanese was among her suite, and he pressed forward as the duke re-entered the apartment, offering to carry any message to the Duke of Milan, to be cut short with, "It is well. That is enough." Shortly afterwards, Olivier de la Marche and the Sire de Givry, commander of the Burgundians dedicated to Yolande's service, were summoned and had a long conference with Charles.

Yolande was, apparently, more communicative to the Milanese Appiano than to Charles, but he saw that she was not frank with him. "She must throw herself on the protection of France or of Milan," he wrote to his master.[20] She was, however, clear in her own mind that she would not accept Sforza's protection any more than that of Charles. She absolutely refused to identify her fortunes with the latter. She was determined to go to Geneva, but no farther. The duke remained at Gex until the 27th, and renewed his arguments to persuade her to cross the Jura with him. She was firm in adhering to her own plan. The two parties set out from the castle together, their roads lying in opposite directions, but Charles escorted his hostess about half-way to Geneva, riding beside her carriage, and continuing his persuasions in a low voice. At last he drew up his rein, gave her a farewell kiss, and rode off. He was much displeased at her determination, and he speedily resolved upon other methods of making sure of her fidelity to him. La Marche thus relates the story:[21]

"After the duke had been discomfited the second time by the Swiss before Morat, believing that he could do the thing secretly, he made a plan to kidnap Mme. of Savoy and her children and take them to Burgundy, and he ordered me, I being at Geneva, on my head to capture Mme. of Savoy and her children and bring them to him. In order to obey my prince and master I did his behest quite against my heart, and I took madame and her children near the gate of Geneva. But the Duke of Savoy was stolen away from me (for it was two o'clock in the night) by the means of some of our own company who were subjects of the Duke of Savoy, and, assuredly, they did no more than their duty. What I did was simply to save my life, for the duke, my master, was the kind that insisted on having his will done under penalty of losing one's head. So I took my way, and carried Mme. of Savoy behind me, and her two daughters followed and two or three of her maids, and we took the road over the mountain to reach St. Claude. I was well assured of the second son, and had him carried by a gentleman. I thought I was assured of the Duke of Savoy, but he was stolen from me as I said. As soon as we were at a distance, the people of the duchess, and especially the seigneur de Manton, had torches brought and took the duke back to Geneva, in which they had great joy. And I with Mme. of Savoy and the little boy (who was not the duke), crossed the mountain in the black night and came to a place called Mijoux, and thence to St. Claude.

"You must know that the duke gave very bad cheer to the company, and chiefly to me. I was in danger of my life because I had not brought the Duke of Savoy. Then the duke went on to Salins without speaking to me or giving me any orders. However, I escorted Mme. of Savoy after him, and he ordered me to take her to the castle of Rochefort. Thence she was taken to Rouvre in Burgundy. After that I had nothing more to do with her or her affairs."

This queer story is undoubtedly true, and the tone in which La Marche relates it indicates that he, too, was alienated by the duke's manner, and might have been more willing to lend an ear to Louis's suggestions than he had been five years previously.

It is not evident that he played his master false or that he was cognisant of the recapture of the little duke, but he says himself that he thought the attendants were absolutely justified in it.

It is after this incident that the astute Panigarola returns and joins the duke's suite at Salins. He finds Charles a changed man, indulging in strange fits of hilarity, expressing the wish that a couple of thousand more of his troops had been killed, "French at heart" as they were. He refused to see Yolande, after thus forcibly obtaining the means of so doing, and sent her to the castle of the Sire of Rochefort for safe-keeping. Abstemious as he had been all his life, never taking wine without water, the strong Burgundy in which he now suddenly indulged went to his head.

Rumours went abroad that his mental balance was shaken. That does not seem to have been true to the extent of insanity. He was only infinitely chagrined but he certainly put on a brave front and retained his self-confidence and declared

"They are wrong if they believe me defeated. Providence has provided me with so many people and estates with such abundant resources, that many such defeats would be needed to ruin them. At the moment when the world imagines that I am annihilated, I will reopen the campaign with an army of 150,000 men."[22]

[Footnote 1: Lettres de Louis XI., v., 368.]

[Footnote 2: Nos omnes relinquens, Ibid., 371.]

[Footnote 3: Commynes-Dupont, i., 336.]

[Footnote 4: Lettres, v., 363. Louis to Dammartin.]

[Footnote 5: Gachard, Doc. ined., i., 249.]

[Footnote 6: Commines, iv., ch. vi.] [Footnote 7: Commines, iv., ch. viii.: Comines-Lenglet, ii., 217.]

[Footnote 8: The terms of the treaty provided for a seven years' truce, with international free trade and mutual assistance in civil or foreign wars of either monarch. Louis's complaisance went so far that he did not insist on Edward's renouncing the title of King of England and France.]

[Footnote 9: The Paston Letters. Sir John Paston to his mother, Sept. 11, 1475.]

[Footnote 10: The story must be omitted here. The constable was finally apprehended, tried, and executed at Paris.]

[Footnote 11: Depeches Milanaises, i., 253. The copy only is at Milan and there is no seal.]

[Footnote 12: Toutey, p. 380.]

[Footnote 13: Dep. Milan., i., 266.]

[Footnote 14: Dep. Milan., i., 300.]

[Footnote 15: Jomini lays the defeat to a tactical error. "Charles had committed the fault of encamping with one wing of his army resting on the lake, the other ill-secured at the foot of a wooded mountain. Nothing is more dangerous for an army than to have one of its wings resting on an unbridged stream, on a lake, or on the sea." Charles explained to Europe that he had been surprised, and his defeat was a mere bagatelle.]

[Footnote 16: III., 216.]

[Footnote 17: Embossed ornaments.]

[Footnote l8: Dep. Milan., ii., 126.]

[Footnote 19: Dep. Milan., ii., 335.]

[Footnote 20: Dep. Milan., ii., 295.]

[Footnote 21: III., 234.]

[Footnote 22: Dep. Milan, ii., 339.]



CHAPTER XXI

THE BATTLE OF NANCY

1477

It was manifestly impossible for Charles to attempt to retrieve his fortunes without having large sums of ready money at his command. He therefore proceeded to appeal to the guardians of each and every treasury in his various states. Flanders and Burgundy were, however, the only quarters whence succour was in the least probable. The Estates of the latter duchy met, deliberated, and resolved to make no pretence nor to "yield anything contrary to the duty which every one owes to his country."[1] A certain Sieur de Jarville, accompanied by other true Burgundians, undertook to report the proceedings to Charles,—a duty usually falling to the share of the presiding officer of the ecclesiastical chamber. The message which he carried was laconic but sturdy:

"Tell Monsieur that we are humble and brave subjects and servitors, but as to what is asked in his behalf, it never has been done, it cannot be done, it never will be done."

"Small people would never dare use such language," is the comment of the Burgundian chronicler, proud of the temerity of his fellow countrymen.

In the Netherlands, the individual Estates were equally emphatic in their refusal to meet the duke's wishes. Charles, therefore, resolved to call together a general assembly of deputies in the hope of finding them, collectively, more amenable. Writs of summons were issued very widely and a "States-general" was formally convened at Ghent on Friday, April 26, 1476.[2] At the last assembly of this nature, in 1473, the duke had expressly promised, in consideration of an annual grant of 500,000 crowns for six years then accorded to him, to refrain from further demands, and there was a spirit of sullen resentment in the air when this session, whose purpose was plain, was opened by Chancellor Hugonet. He set forth three points for consideration. Monseigneur wished his daughter Mary, "that most precious jewel," to join him in Burgundy. A suitable escort was necessary to ensure her safe journey and that the duke requested the States to provide. Secondly he desired the States to endorse a levy of fresh troops to meet his immediate requirements. Further, he requested each town to equip a specified number of horses at its own expense; he demanded the service of his tenants, fief and arriere-fief; and, in addition, he required that all other men, no matter what their condition, able to bear arms, should enlist or provide a substitute. A portion of the troops should be set to guard the frontier, and the rest should be sent to the duke in Burgundy.

It was a demand pure and simple for a universal call to arms, a national levy. The duke's paternal desire to see his daughter was the flimsiest of excuses that deceived no one for a moment.

After the chancellor's exposition there was probably adjournment for discussion. The pensionary of Brussels, Gort Roelants, then acted as spokesman to present the following report, as the result of their deliberations, to the duchess-regent.

As for Mlle. of Burgundy, the deputies would ascertain the wishes of their principals, but the second request did not call for a referendum. The representatives were fully capable of settling the matter at once. Considering the heavy burdens laid on the people, and taking into account the promises made to them in 1473, that no further demands should be made on the public purse, the three Estates concurred in humbly petitioning Monseigneur to excuse them from granting his request.

It was on a Sunday after dinner (April 28th) when this decision was communicated to the duchess in her own hotel. After a private colloquy between her and Hugonet, the chancellor told the messenger that it was quite right for the deputies to consult their principals before the heiress was permitted to leave the guardianship of her faithful subjects. That was a grave matter, but surely there was no reason why her "escort" could not be determined upon at once. In regard to the levies, Madame was not empowered to take any excuse. It was beyond her province. Since the opening of the assembly, fresh letters had arrived from the duke urging the speedy execution of his previous instructions. The chancellor then appointed a committee to meet a committee from the States at 8 A.M. on the morrow at the convent of the Augustines.

This was not satisfactory. Hugonet was speedily notified that the States did not feel empowered to appoint a committee. The most they could do was to resolve themselves into a committee of the whole. The objection to this was that a small conference was far better suited to free discussion. It was easy for unqualified persons to enter the session of a large body. The States, however, were tenacious in their opinion that their writs did not qualify them to appoint committees. Every point must be threshed out in the presence of every deputy. Potestas delegata non deleganda est.



There was further negotiation, and it was not until Monday afternoon that Hugonet's commissioner brought a conciliatory message that if the gentlemen were so bent on it, he would, in spite of the difficulty of discussion in an open meeting, talk over both points with them in full assembly. Again the States objected. They had no instructions whatsoever in regard to Mademoiselle, and could not discuss her movements either in public or in private session. As to levies, they repeated in detail all previous arguments, and expressed a fervent hope that Monseigneur would withdraw the request. It would, in the end, be more to Monseigneur's advantage, etc. Back and forth travelled the commissioner between States and duchess. The latter simply reiterated her dictum that Mary must certainly set forth to visit her father in May, with an adequate escort, in whose ranks must appear three prelates, three or four barons, fifty knights, and notable men from the "good towns," well armed.

The States were then resolved into a committee of the whole, for a private deliberation, an action that probably enabled them to exclude the embarrassing spectators. In preparation for this, the diligent commissioner called apart one deputy from each contingent, and expatiated on the duke's need of proof of sturdy loyalty. Seven to eight thousand combatants, besides Mademoiselle's escort and the fiefs and arriere-fiefs, Monseigneur could manage to make suffice for the present, and these must be provided. These confidences were at once reported to the assembly, which then adjourned to think over the matter during the night.[3]

When they met again on April 30th, the chancellor was ready with a new message from Madame: "Go home now, consult your principals, and return on May 15th." On the motion of some deputy, this date was changed to May 24th. Precautions were taken to prevent any binding action in the interim. Moreover, the exact phrasing of the reports to the separate groups of constituents was also agreed upon by the majority of the deputies. In this, Hainaut refused to participate, as in that province there was a reluctance to deny the obligations of the fiefs.

When the deputies reassembled a month later, Hugonet tried to weaken the effect of their answer by a suggestion that it had better not be considered the final decision, but a mere informal expression of opinion. "There were so many strangers present," etc. The States determinedly refused to be trifled with. "Madame must not be displeased if they gave the result of their deliberations in the presence of the whole assembly, not by way of opinion, but as a formal and conclusive report." Their charge was restricted to this manner of procedure. The chancellor, interrupting them, asked, since their charge was thus restricted, whether they had also been limited in the number of times they might drink on their way.[4] The answer was: "Chancellor, come now, say what you wish. The answer shall be given as it was meant to be given."



The communication was so long that its delivery took from 3 to 8 P.M. It was nothing more than a detailed apology for refusing the sovereign's demands. Several days more were consumed in unsuccessful efforts to cajole or browbeat the deputies into a more genial mood. The only concessions offered were insignificant, and to their resolution the deputies held firmly. "According to current rumour [concludes Gort Roelants's story] the ducal council would gladly have accepted a notable sum in lieu of the service of towns and of the fiefholders, but the States made no such offer."

There was evidently a hope that better results might be obtained from a new assembly,[5] but none was held and the most earnest endeavours of the duke's wife and daughter failed to arouse enthusiasm for his plans. Moreover, when there seemed a prospect that the Netherlands might be attacked from France, the sympathy of even the duchess and council for offensive operations was chilled. Not only did Margaret fail to send her husband the extra supplies demanded, but she decided to appropriate the three months' subsidy, the chief item of regular ducal revenue, for protection of the Flemish frontier—an action that made Charles very angry. Defences at home! Yes, indeed, they were necessary, but the people must provide them. The subsidy was lawfully his and he needed every penny of it. His army had not been destroyed. He was simply obliged to strengthen it. Burgundy was helping him. Flanders must do her part. They were deaf to this appeal, although a generous message was sent saying that if he were hard pressed they would go in person to rescue him from danger.

The story of the assembly of the Estates of the two Burgundies is equally interesting as a picture of the clash between sovereign will and popular unreadiness to open the carefully guarded money-boxes.[6] The deputies convened at Salins on July 8th, in the presence of the duke himself. The session was opened by Jean de Grey, the president of the parlement of the duchy, with a brief statement of the sovereign's needs. Then Charles took the floor, and delivered a tremendous harangue with a marvellous command of language. Panigarola declared that his allusions to parallel crises in ancient times were so apt and so fluent that it seemed as though the book of history lay opened before him and that he read from its pages.[7] The impression he made was plain to see.



His demands for aid to retrieve the Swiss disasters were open and aboveboard this time. There was no such pretence put forward as the escort of Mary. The argument was that any ruler, backed by his people unanimous in their willingness to give their last jewel for public purposes, must inevitably succeed in his righteous wars, etc.

His learned and able discourse was well received, according to other reporters besides the Milanese, but there was no hearty yielding to sentiment in the reply. Four days were consumed in deliberation before that was ready on July 12th. They had certainly considered that the grant of 100,000 florins annually for six years, accorded two years previously, was their share. But in view of the duke's appeal, they would endeavour to aid him. Let him stipulate which cities he wished fortified and they would assume charge of the work. Two favours they begged—that Charles should not rashly expose his person "for he was the sole prince of his glorious House," and that he should be ready to receive overtures of peace. "We will give life and property for defence, but we implore you to take no offensive step." Charles did not, perhaps, feel the distrust of his military skill and of his judgment that these words implied.

Financial stress was not the duke's only difficulty in 1476. The defection of his allies continued, Yolande—that former good friend of his—was now a fervent suppliant to Louis XI., begging him to restore her to freedom and to her son's estates. Not that her restraint was in itself hard to bear. At Rouvre, whither she had been removed from Rochefort, she was free to do what she wished, except to depart. Couriers, too, were at her service apparently, who carried uninspected letters to Milan, Geneva, Nice, Turin, and to Louis XI. Commines says that she hesitated to take refuge with the last lest he should promptly return her to Burgundian "protection." Yet her brother's hatred to Charles seemed a fairly strong assurance against such action. Louis XI. was never so genial as when hearing some ill of Charles. "From what I have learned, I believe his Turk, his devil in this world, the person he loathes most intensely, is the Duke of Burgundy, with whom he can never live in amity." These words were sent by Petrasanta to the Duke of Milan,[8] who was also turning slowly, with some periods of hesitation, to an alliance with Louis, now engaged in "following the hare with a cart."[9]

On his side the king declared that he had no intention of troubling further about his obligations to the Duke of Burgundy. "He has himself broken the truce repeatedly. I can begin a war when I please. But I have thought it best to temporise."



In the succeeding weeks Louis plunged deeper and deeper into negotiations with any and every one whom he could turn against Charles. In October, Sire de Chamont, governor of Champagne, —the territory that Edward IV. had failed to consign to the duke's sovereignty,—made a descent on Rouvre and rescued Yolande of Savoy. There was no attempt to stay her departure, and she was scrupulous, so it is said, in leaving money behind to pay for the Burgundian property carried off in her train—though it were nothing but an old crossbow. "Welcome, Madame the Burgundian," was the fraternal salutation which she received on her arrival at her brother's court. She replied that she was a good French woman and quite ready to obey his majesty's commands.[10]

During the summer, Charles remained at La Riviere exerting every effort to levy an army. It was no easy task, and the review held on July 27th showed a meagre return for his exertions. But he did not slacken his efforts. Lists were immediately drawn up showing the vacancies in each company, and his money stress did not prevent his offering increased pay as an extra inducement to recruits. "An excellent means of encouragement," comments Panigarola.

The necessity for his preparations was evident. An opportune legacy inherited by Rene of Lorraine enabled that dispossessed prince to work to better advantage than he had been able to do since Charles had convened the Estates of Lorraine at Nancy. Moreover, on the very day of the review of the deficient Burgundian troops, a Swiss diet at Fribourg adopted resolutions regarding, a closer alliance with Rene.[11] Louis XI. ostensibly maintained his truce with Charles but he had intimated that a French army would wait in Dauphine ready "to help adjust the affairs of Savoy," and, at about the same time when Yolande was at court, he gave a gracious reception to a Swiss embassy, so that Rene did not feel himself without support as he advanced to recover his city.

The mercenaries left by Charles at Nancy were weak and indifferent—a brief siege, and the capital of Lorraine capitulated to Duke Rene. Charles was too late to prevent this mortifying loss. His forces, too, were a mere shadow. Three to four thousand men rallied round him in the Franche-Comte, a few hundred joined him in Burgundy, and as he skirted the frontier of Champagne he received slight reinforcements from Luxemburg. Then came Campobasso and his mercenary troops, and the Count of Chimay with such Flemish fiefs as had, individually, respected the duke's appeal. In all, the forces at Charles's disposition amounted to about ten thousand, far fewer than those at Neuss or at Granson.

At a diet of October 17th, the compact between Rene and the Swiss was confirmed, and the former was assured of efficient aid to help him repulse Charles in his advance into Lorraine. There was need. The city of Toul refused admission to both dukes, but furnished provision for Charles's troops, so that for the moment he was the better off of the two. Rene then proceeded to provision Nancy and to prepare it for a siege, while he himself proceeded to Pont-a-Mousson, and for several days the two adversaries were only separated by the Moselle. Charles's army was augmented daily by slight accessions from Flanders, and England, and by fragments of the garrisons of the towns in Lorraine that had yielded to Rene and the latter fell back, little by little. Charles in his turn held Pont-a-Mousson, and proceeded along the road to Nancy, not deterred by the Lorrainers.

It was on October 22nd, that Charles of Burgundy laid siege for the second time to Nancy. In thus entering into active hostilities, he was ignoring the advice of his councillors who were unanimous in begging him to devote the winter months to refitting his army in Luxemburg or Flanders. His position was really very dangerous. He had no base on which to rest as he had recovered no towns except Pont-a-Mousson. But he ignored the patent obstacles and tried assault after assault upon Nancy—all most valiantly repulsed. Within the walls, there was an amazing display of courage, energy, and good humour. As a matter of fact, the duke's reputation had waned, while the fear of his cruelty emboldened the burghers to hold out to the last ditch. Any fate would be better than falling into his hands, was the general opinion.

Throughout Lorraine, the captains of the garrisons seized every occasion to harry the Burgundians. Familiar with the lay of the land, with every cross-road and by-path, they were able to lie in wait for the foragers and to do much damage. Four hundred cavaliers, coming up from Burgundy, were attacked by one Malhortie de Roziere, and literally cut to pieces, while their horses changed sides with ease. Only a few escaped to report the fate of the others to Charles. Not long after, Malhortie, encouraged by this success, crept up to the Burgundian camp, fell upon the sleepers, and captured a goodly number of horses.

The troops on which Charles counted most confidently were Campobasso's. Several attempts were made to warn him that treachery was possible in that quarter if the commander were too much exasperated by delays in payment, too much tried by the ill-temper of his employer. But the duke persisted in being oblivious to what was passing under his eyes. Thus, while awaiting the moment for his final defection, the Italian found it possible to enter into communication with Rene and to retard the operations of the siege so as to give time for the advance of the army of relief.

The weather of this year was a marked contrast to the mild season of 1473. The winter set in early and the cold became very severe, almost at once. Their sufferings made the burghers very impatient for the relief of whose coming they could get no certain assurance. The Burgundian lines were held so rigidly that the interchange of messages between the city and her friends was rendered very difficult.[12] One Suffren de Baschi tried to slip through to Nancy, to tell the besieged that Rene was levying troops in Switzerland and would soon be with them. Baschi fell into the duke's hands and was immediately hanged. One story says that Campobasso was among the interceders for his life and received a box on the ear for his pains, an insult that proved the last straw in his allegiance to Charles. Commines, however, declares that the Italian urged the death of the captive, fearful of the premature betrayal of his own intended treachery.

This execution was one of those arbitrary acts condemned by public opinion as contrary to the code of warfare. Intense indignation among the Lorrainers and the Swiss forced Rene to retaliatory measures, and he ordered the execution of all the Burgundian prisoners. One hundred and twenty bodies hung on the gibbets, each bearing an inscription to the effect that their death was the work of le temeraire. The rancour of the proceedings became terrible. No quarter was given in any engagements. Slaughter was the only thought on either side.

Towards the end of December, one Thierry, a draper of Mirecourt, proved more successful than Baschi in reaching Nancy. His information, that Rene's army would leave Basel on December 26th, put heart into the beseiged and the bells rang out joyfully.

Just at this epoch, there was an attempt at mediation between the combatants. The King of Portugal,[13] nephew of Isabella, appeared at his cousin's camp and implored him to put an end to the carnage, and in the name of humanity to stop a war that was horrible to all the world. In spite of his own stress, Charles managed to give his kinsman a splendid reception, but he waved aside his petition, and simply invited him to join him in his campaign.

A week sufficed for the Swiss contingent to march from Basel to Nancy, across the plains of Alsace. Meantime Rene had rallied about four thousand men under Lorraine captains, and to this was added an Alsatian force which had joined him by way of St.-Nicolas-du-Port. They were a rude, pitiless crowd, as they soon evinced by routing a few Burgundians out of the houses where they had hidden, and massacring them publicly. A reconnaissance, sent out by Charles, was easily put to flight.

On January 4th, Charles learned that fresh troops had reached St. Nicolas. He showed assurance, arrogance, and negligence. His belief in his star was fully restored. He actually did not take the trouble to try once more to ascertain the exact strength of the enemy. He had commissioned the Bishop of Forli to negotiate for him at Basel, and refused to credit the statement that the Swiss were throwing in their fortunes with Rene. He thought that "the Child," as he contemptuously termed his adversary, had simply gone right and left to hire mercenaries, and he rather ridiculed the idea of taking such canaille seriously, saying that it was a host unworthy of a gentleman. Still he resolved to meet and finish them once for all.[14]

It is a fact that the Swiss reinforcements were a different and far less efficient body than the volunteers of Granson and Morat had been. French gold, scattered freely, had done its work in exciting the cupidity of every man who could bear arms. There were some staunch leaders, like Waldemar of Zurich and Rudolph de Stein, but their kind was in the minority. Berne aided with money rather than with men, but she was not a generous ally as she insisted on having hostages to ensure her repayment. A venal spirit was evident in every quarter. As the troops made their way over the Jura their behaviour showed that the late splendid booty had affected them. Plunder was their aim. When Rene reviewed these fresh arrivals from Basel, one of his attending officers was Oswald von Thierstein, late governor of Alsace.[15] Disgraced by Sigismund he had passed over to the Duke of Lorraine, who appointed him marshal.

On that January 4th, a Saturday, Charles held a council meeting. The opinion of the wisest, already given on previous occasions, was urged again:

"Do not risk battle. Rene is poor. If there are no immediate engagements, his mercenaries will abandon him for lack of pay. Raise the siege and depart for Flanders and Luxemburg. The army can rest and be increased. Then at the approach of spring it will be easy to fall upon Rene deprived of his troops."

Charles was absolutely deaf to these arguments. He was determined on facing the issue at once. Leaving a small force to sustain the siege, he ordered the camp to be broken on the evening of the 4th and a movement made towards St.-Nicolas. He selected a ground favourable for the manipulation of a large body, and placed his artillery on a plateau situated between Jarville and Neuville. It was not a good position, being hedged in on the right and in front by woods which could conceal the movements of a foe without impeding them. Only one way of retreat was open—towards Metz, whose bishop was Charles's last ally. But to reach Metz, it was necessary to cross several small streams and deceptive marshes, half frozen as they were, besides the river Meurthe, a serious obstacle with the garrison of Nancy on the flank. In short, there was ample reason to dread surprise, while in case of defeat a terrible catastrophe was more than possible. Curiously, the precise kind of difficulties which beset the field of Morat were repeated here—proof that Charles had not the qualities of a general who could learn by experience.[16]

The exact force at his disposal on this occasion has been variously estimated. Considering the ravages of the sanguinary skirmishes during the siege, and of the cold, it is probable that the actual combatants did not number more than ten thousand, all told. And only half of these were of any value—two thousand men under Galeotto, and three thousand Burgundians commanded by Charles and his immediate lieutenants. The remainder were unreliable mercenaries and the still more unreliable troops of Campobasso already pledged to the foe. La Marche estimates Rene's force at twelve thousand and adds: "The Duke of Burgundy was far behind, for, on my conscience, he had not two thousand fighting men."[17]

The allies adopted a plan of battle proposed by a Lorrainer, Vautrin Wuisse. The first manoeuvre was to divert the foe and turn him towards the woods, and then to attack his centre, which would at the same time be pressed at the front by the Lorraine forces, headed by Rene himself. The plan succeeded in every point. Surprised that they dared take the offensive, Charles was alert to the harsh cries of the "bull" of Uri and the "cow" of Unterwalden, which were heard across the woods. A sudden presentiment saddened him. Putting on his helmet, he accidentally knocked off the lion bearing the legend Hoc est signum Dei. He replaced it and plunged into the melee.

The onslaught was terrific. Galeotto's troops and the duke's were the only ones to make sturdy resistance. The right wing of the army gave way under the fierce assault of the Swiss. The cry, "Sauve qui pent!" raised possibly by Campobasso's traitors, produced a terrible rout. Three quarters of the troops were in flight, while the duke still fought on with superhuman ferocity.

Galeotto, seeing that the day was lost, protected his own mercenaries as best he could, while Campobasso completed the treason that he had plotted with Rene, which had been partially accomplished four days previously, and calmly took up his position on the bridge of Bouxieres on the Meurthe, to make prisoners for the sake of ransom. Then the besieged made a sudden sortie which increased the disorder. The battle proper was of short duration, with little bloodshed, but the pursuit was sanguinary in the extreme, because the Burgundian army had left no loophole open for retreat.

The Swiss pursued the fugitives hotly as far as Bouxieres and inflicted carnage right and left on the route. It was easy work. The morasses were traps and the Burgundians, encumbered with their arms, found it impossible to free themselves, when they once were entangled. They fell like flies before the fury of the mountaineers. The Lorrainers and Alsatians were more humane or more mercenary, for they took prisoners instead of killing indiscriminately. Charles fought desperately to the very end. There is no doubt that he plunged into the thick of the fight and risked his life in a reckless manner, but there is absolute uncertainty as to how he met his death. It is generally accepted that the last person to see him alive was one Baptista Colonna, a page in the service of a Neapolitan captain. This lad, with an extra helmet swung over his shoulder, found himself close to the duke. He saw him surrounded by troops, noticed his horse stumble, was sure that the rider fell. The next moment, Colonna's attention was diverted to himself. He was taken prisoner and knew no more of the day's events. The figure of Charles of Burgundy disappears from the view of man. A curtain woven of vague rumour hides the closing scenes of his life.

At seven o'clock the victorious Duke of Lorraine rode into the rescued city and re-entered his palace. At the gates was heaped up a ghastly memorial of the steadfastness of the burghers in their devotion to his cause. This was a pile of the bones of the foul animals they had consumed when other food was exhausted, rather than capitulate to their liege's foe. To ascertain the fate of that foe now became Rene's chief anxiety, and he despatched messengers to Metz and elsewhere to find out where Charles had taken refuge. The reports were all negative. The first positive assurance that the duke was dead came from young Baptista Colonna, whom Campobasso himself introduced into Rene's presence on Monday evening. The page told his tale and declared that he could point out the precise place where he had seen the Duke of Burgundy fall. Accordingly, on Tuesday morning, January 7th, a party went forth from Nancy to the desolate battlefield and were guided by Colonna to the edge of a pool which he asserted confidently was the very spot where he had seen Charles. Circumstantial evidence went to give corroboration to his word, for the dozen or more bodies that lay strewn along the ground in the immediate vicinity of the pool were close friends and followers of the duke, men who would, in all probability, have stayed faithfully by their master's person, a volunteer bodyguard as long as they drew breath. These bodies were all stripped naked. Harpies had already gathered what plunder they could find, and no apparel or accoutrements were left to show the difference in rank between noble and page. But the faces were recognisable and they were identified as well-known nobles of the Burgundian court. Separated from this group by a little space at the very edge of the pool, was another naked body in still more doleful plight. The face was disfigured beyond all semblance of what it might have been in life. One cheek was bitten by wolves, one was imbedded in the frozen slime. Yet there was evidence on the poor forsaken remains that convinced the searchers that this was indeed the mortal part of the great duke. Two wounds from a pick and a blow above the ear—inflicted by "one named Humbert"—showed how death had been caused. The missing teeth corresponded to those lost by Charles, there was a scar just where he had received his wound at Montl'hery, the finger nails were long like his, a wound on the shoulder, a fistula on the groin, and an ingrowing nail were additional marks of identification,—six definite proofs in all. Among those who gazed at this wretched sight, on that January morning, were men intimately acquainted with the duke's person.

"There were his physician, a Portuguese named Mathieu, and his valets, besides Olivier de la Marche[18] and Denys his chaplain who were taken thither and there was no doubt that he was dead. It has not yet been decided where he will be buried, and to know it better it [the body] has been bathed in warm water and good wine and cleansed. In that state it was recognisable by all who had previously seen and known him. The page who had given the information was taken to the king. Had it not been for him it would never have been known what had become of him considering the state and the place where he was found."[19]

Before the body could be freed from the ice in which it was imbedded, implements had to be brought from Nancy. Four Lorraine nobles hastened to the spot, when they heard the tidings, to show honour to the man who had been their accepted lord for a brief period, and they acted as escort as the burden was carried into the town and placed in a suitable chamber in the home of one George Marquiez. There seems to have been no insult offered to the fallen man, no lack of deference in the proceedings. The very spot where the bier rested for a moment was marked with a little black cross.

As the corpse was bathed, three wounds became evident—a deep cut from a halberd in the head, spear thrusts through the thighs and abdomen—proofs of the closeness of the last struggle. When all the dignity possible had been given to the miserable human fragment and the chamber hung with conventional mourning, Rene came thither clad in black garments. Kneeling by the bier, he said: "Would to God, fair cousin, that your misfortunes and mine had not reduced you to the condition in which I see you."

For five days the body lay in state before the high altar of the church of St. George, and the obsequies that followed were attended by Rene and his nobles, and the coffin was honourably placed among the ducal dead.

Yet doubt of the man's existence was not buried with the bones to which his name was given. When the Swiss turned their way homeward, their farewell words to Rene were: "If the Duke of Burgundy has escaped and should reopen war, tell us." "If he has assured his safety," Rene answered, "we will fight again when summer comes." There was no delay, however, in the division of the spoils. The Burgundian treasure was distributed among Rene's allies, and the ignorant soldiers received articles worth many times their pay, which they, in many cases, disposed of for an infinitesimal part of their value.

As late as January 28th, Margaret of York and Mary of Burgundy wrote to Louis XI. from Ghent:

"We are still hoping that Monseigneur is alive in the hands of his enemies." Other rumours continued to be current, not only for weeks but for years. In 1482, it was gravely recounted that the vanished duke had retired to Brucsal in Swabia, where he led an austere life, genus vitae horridum atque asperum. Bets were made, too, on the chances of his return.[20]

Louis XI. was a very pleasant person when news was brought him that he liked to hear. Commines and Bouchage together had told him about the defeat of Morat and had each received two hundred silver marks. It was a Seigneur de Lude who had the good luck to bring him letters from Craon recounting the battle of Nancy. It was "really difficult for the king to keep his countenance so surprised was he with joy."[21] His letter to Craon was written on January 9th and ran as follows.[22]

"M. the Count, my friend, I have received your letter and heard the good news that you impart to me, for which I thank you as much as I can. Now is the time to use all your five natural senses to deliver the duchy and county of Burgundy into my hands. If the duke be dead, do you and the governor of Champagne take your troops and put yourselves within the land, and, if you love me, keep as good order among your men as if you were in Paris, and prove that I mean to treat them [the Burgundians] better than any one in my realm."

The "five natural senses" of the king's lieutenant were employed most loyally to his master's service. The duchy of Burgundy returned to the French crown. Before Easter, the Estates were convened by Louis XI, and there was no longer any duke in Burgundy to be an over powerful peer in France.

With the exception of Guelders the lands acquired by Charles fell away, but the remainder as inherited by him passed under the rule of his daughter Mary, who carried her heritage into the House of Austria, through which it passed finally to the King of Spain.

On that fatal fifth of January, Charles of Burgundy had only just passed middle life. He was forty-four years, one month, and twenty-six days old, an age when a man has the right to look forward to new achievements. Every circumstance of the dreary and premature death was in glaring contrast to his prospects at his birth in 1433, in insolent contradiction to his own estimation of the obligations assumed by Fate in his behalf. In certain details of the catastrophe there are, of course, accidents. No one could have predicted that the duke whose chief title was a synonym for magnificence, that this cherished heir to his House, who had been bathed in all the luxury known to his epoch, should have thus lain in death, many hours long, unattended and uncared-for, naked and frozen on a bed of congealed mud, with a winter sky as canopy. The actual adversity as it overwhelmed him was too appalling for any foresight. But the great dream of the man's life that vanished with his vitality owed its annihilation to no mere chance of warfare. Had it not been rudely ended by the battle of Nancy, other means of destruction, inevitable and sure, would have appeared. The projected erection of a solidified kingdom stretching from the North Sea to Switzerland and possibly to the Mediterranean, one that could hold the balance of power between France and Germany, contained elements of disintegration, latent at its foundation. It is clear, from a consideration of the Duke of Burgundy and his position in the Europe of his time, that the materials which he expected to mould into a realm were a collection of sentient units. Each separate one was instinct with individual life, individual desires, conscious of its own minute past, capable of directing its own contracted future. That the hereditary title of overlord to each political unity had lodged upon a head already dignified by a plurality of similar titles, was a mere chance and viewed by the burghers in a wholly different light from that in which this same overlord regarded it. The fishers in Holland, the manufacturers in Brabant, the merchants in Flanders, the vintners in Burgundy, cared nothing for being the wings of an imperial idea. They wanted safe fishing grounds, unmolested highways of commerce, vineyards free from the tramp of armies. And with their desires fixed on these as needful, their attitude towards the political centralisation planned by their common ruler, often betrayed both ignorance and inconsistency. At various epochs some degree of imperialism for the Netherland group had been quite to popular taste. In Holland, Zealand and Hainaut, it had been conceded that Jacqueline of Bavaria was less efficient to maintain desirable conditions than her cousin of Burgundy, and the exchange of sovereigns had been effected in spite of the manifest injustice involved in the transaction. But while there was willingness to accept any advantages that might accrue to a people from the reputation of a local overlord, it was never forgotten for an instant that his relation to his subjects was as their own count and strictly limited by conditions that had long existed within each petty territory. While Charles seemed to be on the straight road towards his goal, the people within each body politic of his inherited states were profoundly preoccupied with their own local concerns, and only alive to his schemes when they feared demands upon their internal revenues for external purposes.