[Footnote 26: Commines, iii., ch. ix.]

[Footnote 27: There is a curious document in existence (see Bulletins de L'Hist. de France, 1833-34) dated fifty years after the event. It is the deposition of several old people who had been just old enough to remember that awful experience of their youth. Fifty years of repetition gave time for the growth of the story.]

[Footnote 28: Commines, iii., ch. x.]

[Footnote 29: Legend makes it that Jeanne Laisne, called Fouquet, chopped off the hands of the standard-bearer with a hatchet. Hence her name was changed to La Hachette, and she is represented with a hatchet.]

[Footnote 30: Barante, vii., 333.]

[Footnote 31: See Lavisse, iv^{ii.}, 368.]

[Footnote 32:

"Berri est mort, Bretagne dort, Bourgogne hongne, Le Roy besogne."

Le Roux de Lincy, Chants historiques et populaires du temps de Louis XI.]

[Footnote 33: Commines also mentions here "the confessor of the Duke of Guienne and a knight to whom is imputed the death of the Duke of Guienne." (iii., ch. xi.)]

[Footnote 34: Kirk (ii., 156) thinks that this confiscation was only Louis's way of prodding him up to act.]

[Footnote 35: Dupont (Commynes, iii., xxxvi). The fugitive did not enter immediately into his new possessions. The king's gift of the principality of Talmont, dated October, 1472, was not registered in Parlement until December 13, 1473, and in the court of records May 2, 1474. Prince of Talmont did Commines become at last, and as such he married Helen de Chambes, January 27, 1473.]

[Footnote 36: It is strange that La Marche does not mention this defection.]

[Footnote 37: See document quoted by Gachard, Etudes et Notices, etc. ii., 344. The original is in the Croy family archives preserved in the chateau of Beaumont.]

[Footnote 38: See also Comines-Lenglet, i., xcj., for discussion of this event. He asserts that the court of Burgundy was too corrupt for honest men to endure it.]

[Footnote 39: _See_ Stein. _Etude_, etc., _sur Olivier de la _Marche_. (Mem. Couronnes) xlix.]

[Footnote 40: Letter of Louis XI. in Bibl. Nat.: Ibid., p. 179.]



CHAPTER XVI

GUELDERS

1473

The affairs of the little duchy of Guelders were among the matters urgently demanding the attention of the Duke of Burgundy at the close of his campaign in France. The circumstances of the long-standing quarrel between Duke Arnold and his unscrupulous son Adolf were a scandal throughout Europe. In 1463, a seeming reconciliation of the parties had not only been effected but celebrated in the town of Grave by a pleasant family festival, from whose gaieties the elder duke, fatigued, retired at an early hour. Scarcely was he in bed, when he was aroused rudely, and carried off half clad to a dungeon in the castle of Buren, by the order of his son, who superintended the abduction in person and then became duke regnant. For over six years the old man languished in prison, actually taunted, from time to time, it is said, by Duke Adolf himself.

Indignant remonstrances against this conduct were heard from various quarters, and were all alike unheeded by the young duke until Charles of Burgundy interfered and ordered him to bring his father to his presence, and to submit the dispute to his arbitration. Charles was too near and too powerful a neighbour to be disregarded, and his peremptory invitation was accepted. Pending the decision, the two dukes were forced to be guests in his court, under a strict surveillance which amounted to an arrest.

The first suggestion made by Charles was for a compromise between father and son. "Let Duke Arnold retain the nominal sovereignty in Guelders, actual possession of one town, and a fair income, while to Adolf be ceded the full power of administration." The latter was emphatic in his refusal to consider the proposition. "Rather would I prefer to see my father thrown into a well and to follow him thither than to agree to such terms. He has been sovereign duke for forty-four years; it is my turn now to reign." Arnold thought it would be a simple feat to fight out the dispute. "I saw them both several times in the duke's apartment and in the council chamber when they pleaded, each his own cause. I saw the old man offer a gage of battle to his son."[1] The senior belonged to the disappearing age of chivalry. A trial of arms seemed to him an easy and knightly fashion of ending his differences with his importunate heir.

No settlement was effected before the French expedition, but Charles was not disposed to let the matter slip from his control, and when he proceeded to Amiens, the two dukes, still under restraint, were obliged to follow in his train. At a leisure moment Charles intended to force them to accept his arbitration as final. Before that moment arrived, the more agile of the two plaintiffs, Adolf, succeeded in eluding surveillance and escaping from the camp at Wailly. He made his way successfully to Namur disguised as a Franciscan monk. Then, at the ferry, he gave a florin when a penny would have sufficed. The liberality, inconsistent with his assumed role, aroused suspicion and led to the detection of his rank and identity. He was stayed in his flight and imprisoned in the castle of Namur to await a decision on his case by his self-constituted judge. This was not pronounced until the summer of 1473.

By that time, Charles was resolved on another course of action than that of adjusting a family dispute in the capacity of puissant, impartial, and friendly neighbour. Adolf's behaviour towards his father had been extraordinarily brutal and outrageous. Public comment had been excited to a wide degree. It was not an affair to be dealt with lightly by Duke Charles. The young Duchess of Guelders was Catharine of Bourbon, sister to the late Duchess of Burgundy, and Adolf himself was chevalier of the Golden Fleece. In consideration of these links of family and knightly brotherhood, Charles desired that the case should be tried with all formality.



On May 3, 1473, an assembly of the Order was held at Valenciennes,[2] and the knights were asked to pass upon the conduct of their delinquent fellow, who was permitted to present his own brief through an attorney, but was detained in his own person at Namur. The innocence or guilt of his prisoner was no longer the chief point of interest as far as the Duke of Burgundy was concerned. The latter had made an excellent bargain on his own behalf with the moribund Duke of Guelders, who had signed (December, 1472) a document wherein he sold to Charles all his administrative rights in Guelders and Zutphen for ninety-two thousand florins,[3] in consideration of Arnold's enjoying a life interest in half of the revenue of his ancient duchy. That clause soon lost its significance. The old man's life ceased in March, 1473, and, by virtue of the contract, Charles proposed to enter into full possession of his estates, setting aside not only Adolf, whom he was ready to pronounce an outlawed criminal, quite beyond the pale of society, but that Adolf's innocent eight-year-old heir, Charles, whose hereditary claims had also been ignored by his grandfather.

Before the knights of the Order as a final court, were rehearsed all the circumstances of the old family quarrel and of the late commercial transaction. Their verdict was the one desired by their chief. It was proven to their entire satisfaction that Arnold's sale of the duchy of Guelders and Zutphen was a legitimate proceeding, and that the deed executed by him was a perfect and valid instrument, whereby Charles of Burgundy was duly empowered to enjoy all the revenues of, and to exert authority in, his new duchy at his pleasure. As to Duke Adolf, he was condemned by this tribunal of his peers to life imprisonment as punishment for his unfilial and unjustifiable cruelty towards Arnold, late Duke of Guelders.

Adolf's protests were stifled by his prison bars, but the people of Guelders were by no means disposed to accept unquestioned this deed of transfer, made when the two parties to the conveyance were in very unequal conditions of freedom. In order to convince them of the justice of his pretensions, Charles levied a force almost as efficient as his army of the preceding summer, and fell upon Guelders. A truce, a triple compact with France and England, had recently been renewed, so that for the moment his hands were free from complications, an event commented upon by Sir John Paston, as follows:

"April 16, 1473, CANTERBURY.

"As for tydings ther was a truce taken at Brusslys about the xxvi day off March last, betwyn the Duke of Burgoyn and the Frense Kings inbassators and Master William Atclyff ffor the king heer, whiche is a pese be londe and be water tyll the ffyrst daye off Apryll nowe next comyng betweyn Fraunce and Ingeland, and also the Dukys londes. God holde it ffor ever."

The writer had recently been in Charles's court. Writing from Calais in February, he says:

"As ffor tydyngs heer ther bee but few saff that the Duke of Burgoyen and my Lady hys wyffe fareth well. I was with them on Thorysdaye last past at Gaunt."[4]

The Duke of Burgundy was not the only pretender to the vacated sovereignty of Guelders. The Duke of Juliers was also inclined to urge his cause, were Adolf's family to be set aside. At the sight of Burgundian puissance, however, he was ready to be convinced, and accepted 24,000 florins for his acquiescence in the righteousness of the accession. Several of the cities manifested opposition to Charles, but yielded one after another. In Nimwegen—long hostile to Duke Arnold—there was a determined effort to support little Charles of Guelders who, with his sister, was in that city. The child made a pretty show on his little pony, and there were many declarations of devotion to his cause as he was put forward to excite sympathy. For three weeks, the town held out in his name. The resistance to the Burgundian troops was sturdy. When the gates gave way before their attacks the burghers defended the broken walls. Six hundred English archers were repulsed from an assault with such sudden energy that they left their banners sticking in the very breaches they thought they had won, fine prizes for the triumphant citizens. But the game was unequal, and the combatants, convinced that discretion was the better part of valour, at last accepted the Duke of Cleves as a mediator with their would-be sovereign.

On July 19th, a long civic procession headed by the burgomasters, wearing neither hats nor shoes, marched to the Duke of Burgundy with a prayer for pardon on their lips. The leaders of the opposition to his accession were delivered over to the mercy of the victor. The garrison were accorded their lives and a tax was imposed on the city to indemnify the duke for his needless trouble, and Guelders was added de facto to the list of Burgundian ducal titles. In the various state papers presently issued by the new ruler, the mention of the circumstance of his accession to the sovereignty was simple and straightforward, as in a certain document appointing Olivier de la Marche to be treasurer. The patent bears the date of August 18th and was one of the earliest issued by Charles in this new capacity.

"As by the death of the late Messire Arnold, in his life Duke of Guelderland, these counties and duchy have lapsed to me, and by the same token the offices of the land have escheated to our disposition, and among others the office of master of the moneys of those countships ... using the rights, etc., escheated to me, and in consideration of the good and agreeable services already rendered and continually rendered by our knight, etc., Olivier de la Marche, having full confidence in his sense, loyalty, probity, and good diligence—for these causes and others we entrust the office of master and overseer of moneys of the land of Guelders to him, with all the rights, duties, and privileges thereto pertaining. In testimony of this we have set our seal to these papers. Done in our city of Nimwegen, August 18, 1473. Thus signed by M. le duc."

On the back of this document was written:

"To-day, November 3, 1473, Messire Olivier de la Marche ... took the oath of office of master and overseer of the land and duchy of Guelders."[5]

The charge of the ducal children, Charles and Philippa, was entrusted to the duke who, in his turn, deputed Margaret of York to supervise their education. In a comparatively brief time agitation in behalf of the disinherited heir ceased, and imperial ratification alone was required to stamp the territory as a legal fraction of the Burgundian domains. Under the circumstances the minor heirs were the emperor's wards, and it was his express duty to look to their interests, but Frederic III. showed no disposition to assert himself as their champion. On the contrary, the embassy that arrived from his court on August 14th was charged with felicitations to his dear friend, Charles of Burgundy, for his acquisition, and with assurances that the requisite investiture into his dignities should be given by his imperial hand at the duke's pleasure.[6]

Communication between Frederic and Charles had been intermittently frequent during the past three years, and one subject of their letters was probably a reason why Charles had been willing to abandon a losing game in France to give another bias to his thoughts. He was lured on by the bait of certain prospects, varying in their definite form indeed, but full of promise that he might be enabled, eventually, to confer with Louis XI. from a better vantage ground than his position as first peer of France. The story of these hopes now becomes the story of Charles of Burgundy.

When Sigismund of Austria completed his mortgage, in 1469, at St. Omer, and returned home, as already stated, he was fired with zeal to divert some of the dazzling Burgundian wealth into the empty imperial coffers. An alliance between Mary of Burgundy and the young Archduke Maximilian seemed to him the most advantageous matrimonial bargain possible for the emperor's heir. He urged it upon his cousin with all the eloquence he possessed, and was lavish in his offers to be mediator between him and his new friend Charles.

Frederic was impressed by Sigismund's enthusiastic exposition of the advantages of the match, and little time elapsed before his ambassador brought formal proposals to Charles for the alliance. The duke received the advances complacently and returned propositions significant of his personal ambitions. As early as May, 1470, his instructions to certain envoys sent to the intermediary, Sigismund, are plain. In unequivocal terms, his daughter's hand is made contingent on his own election as King of the Romans, that shadowy royalty which veiled the approach to the imperial throne.

"Item—And in regard to the said marriage, the ambassadors shall inform Monseigneur of Austria that, since his departure from Hesdin, certain people have talked to Monseigneur about this marriage and mentioned that, in return, the emperor would be willing to grant to Monseigneur the crown and the government of the Kingdom of the Romans, with the stipulation that Monseigneur, arrived at the empire by the good pleasure of the emperor or by his death, would, in his turn, procure the said crown of the Romans for his son-in-law. The result will be that the empire will be continued in the person of the emperor's son and his descendants.

"Item—They shall tell him about a meeting between the imperial and ducal ambassadors, at which meeting there was some talk of making a kingdom out of certain lands of Monseigneur and joining these to an imperial vicariate of all the lands and principalities lying along the Rhine."

In the following paragraphs of this instruction,[7] Charles directs his envoys to make it clear to Monseigneur of Austria (Sigismund) that the duke's interest in the plan does not spring from avarice or ambition. He is purely actuated by a yearning to employ his time and his strength for God's service and for the defence of the Faith, while still in his prime.

Should the emperor refuse to approve the duke's nomination as King of the Romans, the ambassadors are instructed to say that they are not empowered to proceed with the marriage negotiations without first referring to their chief. They must ask leave to return with their report. If Sigismund should take it on himself to sound the emperor again about his sentiments, the envoys might await the result of his investigations. He was to be assured that while Charles was resolved to hold back until he was fully satisfied on this point, if it were once ceded, he would interpose no further delay in the celebration of the nuptials. He must know, however, just what power and revenue the emperor would attach to the proposed title. He was not willing to accept it without emoluments. His present financial burdens were already heavy, etc. The concluding items of the instructions had reference to the marriage settlements.

A kingdom of his own was not the duke's dream at this stage of Burgundo-Austrian negotiations. The title that Charles desired primarily was King of the Romans, one empty of substantial sovereign power, but rich with promise of the all-embracing imperial dignity. Significant is the intimation that after this preliminary title was conferred, its wearer would be glad to have Frederic step aside voluntarily. A resignation would be as efficient as death in making room for his appointed successor.

Frederic III. had, indeed, intimated occasionally that a life of meditation would suit his tastes better than the imperial throne, but he seems in no wise to have been tempted by the offer made by Charles to relieve him of his onerous duties, and then to pass on the office to his son. At any rate, the emperor rejected the opportunity to enjoy an irresponsible ease. His answer to the duke was that he did not exercise sufficient influence over his electors to ensure their accepting his nominee as successor to the imperium.

There was, however, one honour that lay wholly within his gift. If Charles desired higher rank, the emperor would be quite willing to erect his territories into a realm and to create him monarch of his own agglomerated possessions, welded into a new unity. This proposition wounded Charles keenly. He assured Sigismund[8] (January 15, 1471) that his nomination as King of the Romans would never have occurred to him spontaneously. He had been assured that it was a darling project of the emperor, and he had simply been willing to please him, etc. As to a kingdom of his own, he refused the proposition with actual disdain.

Then various suitors for the hand of Mary of Burgundy appeared on the scene successively. To Nicholas of Calabria, Duke of Lorraine, grandson of old King Rene of Anjou, she was formally betrothed.[9]

"My cousin, since it is the pleasure of my very redoubtable seigneur and father, I promise you that, you being alive, I will take none other than you and I promise to take you when God permits it." So wrote Mary with her own hand on June 13, 1472, at Mons. On December 3d, she declared all such pledges revoked as though they never had been made, and Nicholas, too, formally renounced his pretensions to her hand.

There were several moments when Charles of France had appeared to be very near acceptance as Mary's husband, and several other princes seemed eligible suitors. Doubtless her father found his daughter very valuable as a means of attracting friendship. Doubtless, too, as Commines says, he was not anxious to introduce any son-in-law into his family. His fortieth year was only completed in 1473, and he was by no means ready to range himself as an ancestor.

At successive times the negotiations between Charles and Frederic were ruptured only to be renewed on some slightly different basis. Threaded together they made a story fraught with interest for Louis XI., and one that, very probably, he had an opportunity to hear. Up to August, 1472, it is a safe inference that Philip de Commines was fully cognisant of the propositions and counter-propositions, the understandings and misunderstandings, the private letters of, as well as the interviews with, the accredited Austrian envoys that appeared at one Burgundian camp after another. Probably there was nothing more] valuable in the store of learning carried by the astute historian from his first patron to his second than all this fund of confidential miscellany.

It seems a fair surmise that Louis XI. enjoyed immensely the delightful private view into his rival's dreams, the disappointments and rehabilitation of his shattered visions. The relation would have made him not only fully aware of the reasons why Charles was diverted from his hot pursuit of the Somme towns, but thoroughly informed as to the great obstacles lying in the path which the duke hoped to travel. Naturally, the king was quite willing to rest assured that ruin was inevitable. If his rival were disposed to wreck himself rashly on German shoals, the king was equally disposed to be an acquiescent onlooker and to spare his own powder.

On his part, Charles was wholly unconscious of the extent of his loss of prestige within the French realm in 1472. There had been other periods when the king had appeared triumphant over his aspiring nobles only to be again checked by their alliance. In the radical change undergone by the feudatories after Guienne's death and Brittany's reconciliation, there was, however, no opening left for the Duke of Burgundy's re-entry as a French political leader. It was this definitive cessation of his importance that Charles failed to recognise. Confident that his star was rising in the east he did not note the significance of its setting in the west. Thereupon the situation was,—Charles, believing that his plans were his own secret, versus Louis, fully advised of those plans and alert to all incidents of the past, present, and future in a fashion impossible to the duke in his absorbed contemplation of his own prospects, blocking the scope of his view.

With the emperor's congratulations at the duke's accession to Guelders, and his offers to invest him with the title, were coupled intimations that it was an opportune moment to resume consideration of an alliance between the Archduke Maximilian and Mary of Burgundy. The duke accepted the new overtures, and Rudolf de Soulz and Peter von Hagenbach proceeded to the Burgundian and Austrian courts respectively, as confidential envoys to discuss the marriage.[10]

Charles was far more gracious to De Soulz than he had been to the last imperial messenger, the Abbe de Casanova, who had restricted his proposals to Mary's fortunes and ignored her father's. The duke had no intention of permitting any conference to proceed on that line. He was explicit as to his requisitions. De Soulz was surprised by a gift of ten thousand florins, explained by the phrase, "because Monseigneur recognised the love and affection borne him by the said count." That was a simple retainer. Other benefits, offices, and estates were conferred, to take effect on the day when Monseigneur was named King of the Romans.

The instructions to Hagenbach were definite, covering the ground of those previously mentioned, issued in 1470. He was, however, especially enjoined to assure Frederic that the duke did not require his abdication. He would be content to step into the shoes naturally vacated by his death.

The final suggestion resulting from these parleyings was that an interview between the two principals would be far more satisfactory than any further interchange of messages. It was not only a propitious time for a conference, but it was necessary. The ceremony of investiture of the duke into his latest acquired fief made it evidently imperative that he should visit the emperor. And to preparations for that event, Charles turned his attention, now absolutely confident that the outcome must be to his satisfaction. He had as little comprehension of the character of the man with whom he was to deal as he had of Louis XI. The choice of a place caused some difficulty, each prince preferring a locality near his own frontier. Metz was selected and abandoned on account of an epidemic. Finally Treves was appointed for the important occasion, and Frederic sent official invitations to the princes of the empire to follow him thither in October.

Illustration: MARY OF BURGUNDY (AFTER THE DESIGN BY C. LAPLANTE)]

Before Charles arrived at the rendezvous, another event had occurred that had an important bearing on his fortunes. Nicholas, Duke of Lorraine, died (July 27th), leaving no direct heir. He had been relinquished as a son-in-law, but the geographical position of his duchy made the question of its sovereignty all important to Charles of Burgundy. If it could be under his own control, how convenient for the passage of his troops from Luxemburg to the south! The taste for duchies like many another can grow by what it feeds upon.

Prepared to set out for his journey to Treves, Charles hastened his movements and proceeded to Metz with an escort so large that it had a formidable aspect to the city fathers. Whether they feared that their free city was too tempting a base for attack on Lorraine or not, the magistrates yet found it expedient to keep the Burgundian thousands without their walls. The emperor, too, was on his way to Treves. Many of his suite were occupying quarters in Metz. Room might be found for Charles and his immediate retainers, indeed, but the troops must make themselves as comfortable as possible outside the gates. So said the burgomaster, and Charles was forced to yield and he made a splendid entry into the town under the prescribed conditions.

His own paraphernalia had been forwarded from Antwerp, so that there should be an abundance of plate, tapestry, etc., to grace his temporary quarters, and the forests of Luxemburg had been scoured to secure game for the banquets.

It was all very fine, but Charles was not in a humour to be pleased. He was annoyed about his troops; very probably he had intended leaving a portion at Metz, ready to be available in Lorraine if occasion offered. He cut short his stay in the town and marched on with his imposing escort to Treves, whence he hoped to march out again a greater personage than any Duke of Burgundy had ever been.[11]

[Footnote 1: Commines, iv., ch. i.]

[Footnote 2: Hist. de l'Ordre, etc., p. 64. One of the places to be filled at this session was that of Frank van Borselen, the widower of Jacqueline, Countess of Holland. Thus the last faint trace of the ancient family disappeared. It is expressly stated in the minutes of the session that Adolf of Guelders was asked to nominate candidates from his prison, but he would not do it. Striking is Charles's remark on the nomination of the son of the King of Naples. Considering that the Order was already decorated and honoured by four kings, very excellent, he judged it more a propos to distribute the five empty collars within his own states. Nevertheless the infant was elected, as was also Engelbert of Nassau.

Various members are criticised as permitted by the rules of the Order. There was reproach for Anthony the Bastard for taking a gift of 20,000 crowns from Louis XI. Payable as it was in terms, it savoured of a pension. Had Henry van Borselen done all he could to prevent Warwick's landing in England? etc.

Among the minor pieces of business discussed was the disposition of the scarlet mantles now discarded by the chevaliers. It was decided after deliberation that they should be sold and the proceeds applied to the purchase of tapestries for the chapel of Dijon, and the treasurer was deputed to see about it. Perhaps it was in this connection that the discussion turned on the wide-spread use, or rather abuse of gold and velvet. It tended to depreciate the Order and the state of chivalry. But the sovereign thought it best to defer this point until his return from his proposed journey to Guelders. Lengthy, too, were the discussions upon the exact usage in respect to wearing the collar and insignia of the Order.]

[Footnote 3: The first sum named was three hundred thousand.]

[Footnote 4: The Paston Letters, iii., 79..]

[Footnote 5: See Memoires Couronnes, xlix., 180.]

[Footnote 6: Toutey, p. 42; Lenglet, ii., 207. August 14th the Duke of Burgundy crossed the Rhine and made his way to Nimwegen where the ambassador of the emperor visited him.]

[Footnote 7: This instruction, printed by Lenglet (iii., 238) from the Godefroy edition of Commines, has no date and has been referred to 1472. From internal evidence it seems fair to conclude that it belongs rather to 1470. The question of the marriage comes in at the end of the paper, the first part being devoted to Swiss affairs.]

[Footnote 8: Toutey, p. 36.]

[Footnote 9: Lenglet, iii., 192.]

[Footnote 10: Toutey, p. 44; Chmel, Monumenta Habsburgica, I, 3.]

[Footnote 11: Toutey, p. 46.]



CHAPTER XVII

THE MEETING AT TREVES

1473

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

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

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

There is, however, another word portrait of the duke as he looked in the year 1473, whose trend is more sympathetic.[2] "His stature was small and nervous, his complexion pale, hair dark chestnut, eyes black and brilliant, his presence majestic but stern. He was high-spirited, magnanimous, courageous, intrepid, and impetuous. Capable of action, he lacked nothing but prudence to attain success."

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



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

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

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

The Archduke Maximilian, gay in crimson and silver, walked by the side of an Ottoman prince, prisoner of war, and converted to Christianity by the pope himself. And then there was a host of nobles, great and small. Among them were Engelbert of Nassau[3] and the representative of the House of Orange-Chalons, whose titles were destined to be united in one person within the next half-century.

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

It was so difficult to decide as to the requisite etiquette of escort, that the emperor and duke agreed to separate on the fairly neutral ground of the market-place. Each proceeded with his own suite to his lodgings, Frederic to the archbishop's palace, and Charles to the abbey of St. Maximin, which had conferred on him, some years previously, the honorary title of "Protector." His army was quartered within and without the city. Two days for repose and then the first official interview took place, which is described as follows, by an unknown correspondent, evidently in the ducal suite:[4]

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

"The emperor made the Bishop of Mayence his mouthpiece to describe the stress of Christianity and to urge Charles to lend his assistance. Having listened to this address, Monseigneur requested the emperor to please come into a larger place where more people could hear his answer. Accordingly they entered a hall decorated with the tapestry of Alexander, while the very ceiling was covered with cloth of gold. There was a dais whereon stood a double row of seats. Benches and steps were spread over with tapestry wrought with my lord's arms. Thither came the emperor and mounted the dais with difficulty.... Mons., the chancellor, clad in velvet over velvet cramoisy, first pronounced a discourse in beautiful Latin as a response to what had been said by the seigneur of Mayence. Then, showing how the affairs of my said lord were affected by the king, he began with an account of the king's reception by Monseigneur, whom God absolve [evidently the late duke], in his own residence, and he continued down to the present day, dilating upon the great benefits, services, and honour by him [Louis] received in the domains of Burgundy, and the extortions he had made since and desires to make. Never a word was forgotten, but all was well stated, especially the case of M. de Guienne.[5] Finally, Monseigneur declared that if his lands were in security, there was nothing he would like better than to give aid to Christianity.

"After this statement, which was marvellously honest, the emperor arose from the throne, wine and spices were brought, and then Monseigneur escorted the emperor to his quarters with grand display of torches. This is the outline of what happened on October 4th, in the said year lxxiii. And as to the future, next Thursday the emperor will dine where Monseigneur lodges, et la fera les grants du roy,[6] and there will be novelties. In regard to the fashion of the said emperor and his estate, he is a very fine prince and attractive, very robust, very human, and benign. I do not know with whom to compare his figure better than Monseigneur de Croy, as he was eight or ten years ago, except that his flesh is whiter than that of the Sr. de Croy. The emperor has seven or eight hundred horse as an escort, but the major part of the nobles present come from this locality. In regard to Monseigneur's departure, there is no news, and they make great cheer—this is all for this time."

The German scholars in the imperial party listened most attentively to the style of the Netherlander's speech as well as to his subject-matter. "More abundant in vocabulary than elegant in Latinity," was their comment, a fault they considered marking all French Latin. The audience found time to note the style for the subject of the address did not interest them greatly. The least observant onlooker knew that the main purpose of this interview was not the plan of a Turkish campaign, though Frederic appointed a committee to discuss that, whose members, Burgundian and German in equal numbers, were instructed to study the Eastern question while emperor and duke were absorbed in other matters.[7] In their very first session, this committee decided that the chief obstacle to a Turkish expedition was the Franco-Burgundian quarrel. This point was also raised by Charles in his first conference with Frederic. No campaign was feasible until the European powers were ready to act in concert. Louis XI. was aiding and abetting the heathen by being a disturbing element which rendered this desired unity impossible. So Frederic appointed a fresh commission to discuss European peace. And this insolvable problem was a convenient blind for other discussions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Electoral confirmation alone was wanting, and in regard to that there was much voluminous correspondence and much shuffling of responsibility. The electors of Mayence and of Treves were the only ones present to speak for themselves, and they declared that the matter ought to be referred to a full conclave of the electoral college.[9] Let the candidate for royalty await the decision of the next diet, appointed for November at Augsburg.

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

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

Very imposing was the ceremony enacted in the market-place. Frederic was exalted upon a high platform ascended by a flight of steps. Charles, clad in complete steel but bareheaded and unattended, rode slowly around the platform three times, "which they say was the custom in such solemnities of investiture," adds an eyewitness,[10] as though he considered the ceremony somewhat archaic. Then the candidate dismounted, received the mantle of the empire from an attendant, and slowly ascended the steps to the emperor's feet, while a new escutcheon, displaying the insignia of the freshly acquired fiefs, quartered on the Burgundian arms, was carried before him. Kneeling at the emperor's feet, the duke laid two fingers on his sword hilt and repeated the oath of fealty and service in low but distinct tones. Other rites followed, and then Charles was proclaimed Duke of Guelders.



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

"The emperor is acting with perfect imperial authority and thinks that no one has a right to dispute it, nevertheless the duke yearns for the sanction of the electors and is set upon obtaining it."[11] The tone taken by Charles was that of humble ignorance. "Little instructed as I am in imperial German law, I am anxious to have your opinion on the legal ability of the emperor to erect a kingdom." On November 8th, in the evening, the electors present in Treves declared that they were not exactly sure about the imperial authority, but they were sure that it was not their duty to discuss the legal attributes of imperial puissance.

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

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

So wrote Albert of Brandenburg on November 13th, trusting to the word of an envoy who had left matters in so advanced a state when he departed from Treves that he felt safe in concluding that achievement had been reached.[12]

Various letters from the citizens of Berne, too, were filled with rumours from Treves. Most extraordinary is one of November 29th, intended to go the rounds of the Swiss confederacy, containing exact details of the coronation of Charles as it had taken place five days previously. The boundaries of the new kingdom were specified.[13] Venice, in hot haste to please the monarch, had instantly shown exceptional honour to the Burgundian resident. How exact it all sounded! Yet there was no truth in it.

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

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

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

The leave-taking between the bargain makers was expected to be as pompous as had been the entry into Treves. It was far into the night of November 24th when the audience broke up. Little rest was there for the imperial suite, for when the tardy November sun arose above the eastern horizon, its rays met Frederic sailing down the Moselle. Not only had no imperial adieux been uttered, but no imperial debts had been settled. This was the news that was awaiting Charles when he awoke. Baffled he was, but not in his hope of being a king that day. No, only in his expectation of a stately pageant.[14] In all haste he sent Peter von Hagenbach to ride more swiftly along the bank than the boat could sail, so as to overtake the traveller and urge him to wait for a few more words on divers topics. In one account it is reported that Frederic, though annoyed at the interruption, still assented to Hagenbach's request. No sooner was the latter away, however, than he changed his mind and continued his course.

Rumour was busy, in regard to this strange exit of the emperor from the scene. The general belief among contemporaries was that it was on the eve of the intended coronation that Frederic turned his back on the scene. Take first the words of Thomas Basin, whose statement that he was in the very midst of the events can hardly be doubted:[15]

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

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

The bishop wrote these words some time after the event. There are other accounts preserved, actual letters written within a few days or weeks of November 25th, wherein is evinced similar ignorance of what had actually passed. The following gives several suggestions of difficulties not mentioned elsewhere. A certain Balthasar Cesner, secretary, writes to Master Johannes Gelthauss and others in Frankfort, from Cologne, on December 6th.[16] He was attached to the imperial service, and possibly was one of the few attendants on Frederic in the hasty journey from Treves. After touching on Cologne affairs he proceeds:

"I must inform your excellencies how the Duke of Burgundy came with all pomp for his coronation as king of the kingdom of Burgundy and Friesland with twenty-six standards besides a magnificent sceptre and crown. He also wished to take his duchy and territories in Savoy[17] and Guelders and others in fief from him [the emperor] and not from the empire.[18] This and other extraordinary demands his imperial grace did not wish to grant, and on that account he has broken off the interview and gone away. Everything was prepared for the coronation, the chair for the taking.[19] It is said that he is to be crowned in Aix. It may be hoped not [non speratur]. You can understand me as well as your faithful servant.

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

"Despatched from Cologne on St. Nicholas Day itself.

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

The two kingdoms are also mentioned by Snoy:

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

The chronicler adds that this plan was discussed in secret conference.[20]

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

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

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

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

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

The Strasburg chronicles report that Charles was in a towering rage on receiving this communication. He clinched his fists, ground his teeth, and kicked the furniture about the room in which he had locked himself up.[21] But by the time these words were penned, these authors were better informed than Charles about the ultimate result of the emperor's intentions. The duke may have been angry, but he certainly controlled himself sufficiently to give several audiences in the course of the day—to envoys from Lorraine among others—and was ready to take his own departure by evening, not doubting that the crown and sceptre, carefully packed with the mountain of his valuable treasure, would assuredly fulfil their destiny in the near future. Treves was left to its pristine repose, and Charles was the last man to realise that in its silence were entombed for ever his chances of wearing the prematurely prepared insignia.

[Footnote 1: This comment of the Strasburg chronicler, Trausch, is quoted by De Bussiere in his Histoire de la Ligue contre Charles le Temeraire, p. 64. Kirk (ii., 222) points out that this contemporary had a peculiar hostility towards Charles.]

[Footnote 2: Guillaume Faret or Farrel. His Hist. de Rene II. is lost. This citation from it is found in La Guerre de Rene II. contre Charles le Hardi, by P. Aubert Roland.]

[Footnote 3: He had been made knight of the Golden Fleece at the May meeting. From this time on some member of the Nassau family was prominent in Burgundian affairs.]

[Footnote 4: Gachard, Doc. inedits, i., 232. Letter from Treves, October 4, 1473.]

[Footnote 5: About this time Louis XI. made strenuous efforts to unravel the mystery of his brother's death. (Letter to the chancellor of Brittany, Lettres de Louis XI., v., 190.)]

[Footnote 6: Gachard could not explain this phrase. It might easily refer to the desired investiture.]

[Footnote 7: Chmel, Mon. Habs., i., lxxvii., 50, 51: Toutey, p. 50.]

[Footnote 8: Toutey, p. 53.]

[Footnote 9: Toutey bases this statement on three letters (October 30, 31, and November 7, 1473) written by the envoys of the elector of Brandenburg, Ludwig von Eyb and Hertnid von Stein.]

[Footnote 10: Basin, Histoire des regnes de Charles VII. et de Louis XI., ii., 323. Between Nov. 6th and this ceremony there had been new ruptures. Hugonet had gone back and forth many times between the chiefs and "all the world had wondered."]

[Footnote 11: Albert of Brandenburg to the Duke of Saxony. (Muller, Reichstag Theatrum, p. 598.]

[Footnote 12: Toutey, p. 57.]

[Footnote 13: Toutey, p. 60, note.]

[Footnote 14: In this account, differing from the current tradition, Toutey has followed Bachmann's conclusions (Deutsche Reichsgeschichte, ii., 435).]

[Footnote 15: Basin, ii., 325.]

[Footnote 16: Preserved in the municipal archives in Frankfort (nr. 5808 or ch. lit. clausa c. sig in verso impr.). This is published by Karl Schellhass in Deutsche Zeitschrift fuer Geschichtewissenschaft, (1891) pp. 80-85. The language is a queer mixture of German and Latin.]

[Footnote 17: Charles asked on October 23d, through his chancellor, for investiture into Savoy. (Note by Schellhass.)]

[Footnote 18: Under this head is meant Lorraine, which he alleged had lapsed to the emperor at the death of Nicholas of Calabria.]

[Footnote 19: This means the throne from which Charles was to step down to receive the fief.]

[Footnote 20: "Loquitur etiam ferunt de regnis Frisiae et Burgundiae sibi constituendes quae audissimis auribus accepta visus non tam negare imperator quam dissimulare.

"Nam et ad eam [majestatem regiam] aspirare et ditiones suas velle in duo regna partiri visue Burgundiae et Frisiae: in hoc Hollandia, Zelandia, Gelria, Brabantia, Limburgum, Namureum, Hannonia et dioceses Leodiensis, Cameracensis et Trajectina: altero Burgundia, Luxemburgum, Arthesia, Flandria, ecclesaeque cathedrales Sadunensis, Tullensis Verdunensis essent." (P. 1131.)

Renier Snoy was born the year of Charles's death, so that his statement is tradition but founded on what he might have heard from eye-witnesses.]

[Footnote 21: Chmel, i., 49-51; Toutey, p. 59.]



CHAPTER XVIII

COLOGNE, LORRAINE, AND ALSACE

1473-1474

Late as it was in November, the weather was still very mild, and as the emperor and duke travelled in opposite directions, neither the former as he went down to Cologne, nor the latter as he passed up the valley of the Moselle to that of the Ell, was hindered by autumn storms. The summer of 1473 had been marked by unprecedented heat and a prolonged drouth.[1] Forest fires raged unchecked on account of the dearth of water and, for the same reason, the mills stood still. The grape crops, indeed, were prodigious, but the vintage was not profitable because the wine had a tendency to sour. Gentle rains in September prepared the ground for an untimely fertility. Trees blossomed and, though some fruits withered prematurely, cherries actually ripened. Thus the Rhinelands presented a pleasant appearance as Charles rode to Lorraine.

His first pause was at Thionville in Luxemburg, where he stayed about a fortnight and received ambassadors from Hungary, Poland, Venice, England, Denmark, Brittany, Ferrara, the Palatinate, and Cologne.[2] The result of his conference with the last named was a declaration on the duke's part which seriously affected his later career. The condition of Cologne must be touched on as an essential part of this narrative.

The late Duke of Burgundy had attempted to pursue a line of policy in regard to the ecclesiastical elections in the diocese of Cologne that had succeeded in Liege and in Utrecht. In 1463, he had tried to force the chapter to elect his candidate. They had refused to follow his leading, but their own choice, Robert, brother of the elector-palatine, did not prove a congenial chief, and the new prelate turned to Philip for aid when he found his chapter disposed to restrict both his revenues and his temporal authority. Later, in 1467, as the audacity of his opponents increased, the archbishop appealed to his brother, the elector, and to Charles of Burgundy. The latter was busy in France, but he wrote a sententious letter to Cologne, exhorting both chapter and city to be obedient to their chosen spiritual and lay lord. This intervention was resented. The breach widened between Robert and his people, culminating in actual hostilities. The chapter took possession of the town of Neuss, accepted Hermann of Hesse as their protector, and sent an embassy to Rome to state their grievances. The elector aided his brother and the belligerent parties grew in strength.

The city of Cologne wavered for a space, undecided which cause to espouse, and finally chose the chapter's side, signing a five years' alliance with that body, which had officially renounced allegiance to Robert, pending the judgment of pope and emperor on the dissension. Such was the state of affairs when Charles entered into possession of Guelders and manifested a disposition to interest himself in Cologne. He informed the chapter that he was greatly displeased with their contumely. To Cologne he said, "Be neutral," but the burghers showed so little inclination to heed his neighbourly advice that he tried harsher measures and permitted Cologne merchants to be molested in his domains.

In 1473, all hostilities were suspended in the hopes of imperial intervention.[3] While Charles was still in Guelders, Robert paid him a visit, held long conferences with him, and probably received promises of future aid, for he had an air of arrogance when he returned from the interview. During the sojourn of duke and emperor at Treves, a papal legate, the Bishop of Fossombrone, arrived from Rome with plenary powers to settle Cologne affairs, and his measures were endorsed by Charles in a letter from Treves.

For a time Frederic III. seemed inclined to refrain from interference, then something influenced him in another direction. When he arrived at Cologne in November, he received a warm welcome and costly gifts, which he repaid by conferring a mass of privileges on his "good city,"—cheap and easy benefits,—but he did not prove an efficient arbitrator, simply postponing any decision from day to day, though he was begged to settle all difficulties before Charles should attempt to relieve him of the trouble.

True, Charles was detained elsewhere. But he no longer felt the need of conciliating the emperor, and at Thionville, on December 11, 1473, he issued a manifesto declaring that his friend Robert was entirely in the right, his opponents in the wrong.[4] As these latter defied papal legate and arbitrator duly authorised to settle the points of dispute, he, Charles of Burgundy, would constitute himself defender of the insulted archbishop. At the same time, he despatched Etienne de Lavin to check the encroachments of the insolent rebels. The declaration emboldened Robert to defy the emperor's summons to meet him and the papal legate. They both declared that they would take measures to bring him to obedience, but Frederic did not wish to tarry longer at Cologne. In January he took his departure, having directed Hermann of Hesse to protect that see against all aggression.

Apparently, at that time, in spite of the manifesto, there was no formal treaty between Charles and Robert, but there are two drafts for such a treaty in existence,[5] wherein the former pledged himself to force chapter, nobles, and city to submission, in consideration of the sum of 200,000 florins, while the archbishop gave permission to his ally to garrison all strongholds, including Cologne. Pending his autumn sojourn in the upper Rhinelands, Charles had, therefore, plans regarding Cologne definitely in mind.



Lorraine

This duchy was even more interesting to Charles than Cologne, and there were many matters in its regard which demanded his urgent attention in 1473. It, too, was a pleasant territory, and conveniently adjacent to Burgundian lands. A natural means of annexation had been considered by Charles in the proposed marriage between Nicholas, Duke of Lorraine, and Mary of Burgundy. When that project was abandoned to suit Charles's pleasure, he retained the friendship of his rejected son-in-law until the latter's death in the spring of 1473. So unexpected was this event, that there was the usual suspicion of poisoning, and this crime, too, was charged to the account of Louis XI., apparently without foundation. Certainly that monarch reaped no immediate advantage from the death, for the family to whom the succession passed was more friendly to Burgundy than to France.

The heir to the childless Nicholas was his aunt Yolande of Anjou, daughter of old King Rene of Anjou, sister to the unfortunate Margaret, late Queen of England, and widow of the Duke of Vaudemont. The council of Lorraine lost no time in acknowledging Yolande as their duchess. She hastened to Nancy, the capital, with her son Rene, aged twenty-two, where they were received hospitably, and then Yolande formally abdicated in favour of the young man, who was duly accepted as Duke of Lorraine.

Now there was a large party of Burgundian sympathisers in Nancy, and it was probably owing to their pressure that very strong links were at once forged between Charles and the new sovereign of the duchy. The apprehension lest the former should protect the land as he had the heritage of his namesake, little Charles of Guelders, was expressed by the timorous, but their counsels were overweighted, and, on October 15th, Rene accepted a treaty whose terms were very favourable to Burgundy. In exchange for being "protector,"—an office that the emperor had already been asked to change into suzerainty,—Rene cemented an alliance, offensive and defensive, with Charles, giving the latter full permission to march his forces across Lorraine. Further, he pledged himself to appoint as officials in all important places on the route "men bound by oath to the Duke of Burgundy." Yes, more, these were discharged from fidelity to Rene in case he abandoned Burgundian interests.

Yolande of Vaudemont endorsed these articles by adding her signature to that of her son. Charles feared, however, that the provisions might not be adhered to by the Lorrainers—so humiliating were the terms—and exacted in addition the signatures of the chief nobles. On November 18th, seventy-four of these gentlemen attested their approval of an act that practically delivered their land to a stranger,—evidence that they doubted the ability of their hereditary chief, and preferred Burgundy to France.

There is a story that Charles tried other methods than diplomacy, before he got the better of the young duke in this bargain, that he actually had him stolen away from the castle of Joinville where he was staying with his mother.[6] Louis promptly came forward and arrested a nephew of the emperor, a student in the University of Paris, and kept him as a hostage until the release of Rene. Rumour, too, asserts that there was a treaty of Joinville, wherein Rene asserted his friendship with Louis, which was intermitted by his relations with Charles, to be resumed later. That also seems to be improbable. The formal alliance with Louis did not come then, though the king took immediate care to build up a party in his behalf in Lorraine, and to keep himself informed of the progress of the new regime.

From Thionville, Charles journeyed on to Nancy, where he was welcomed by his protege, outside the city walls, and the two rode in together as the duke and the emperor had entered Treves. Charles had been so long keeping up a show of obsequiousness which he did not feel that, undoubtedly, he enjoyed again being the first personage.[7] He refused, however, to accept the young man's hospitality, and spent the two days of his sojourn in the house of a certain Malhortie, where he felt more at ease in his conferences with Lorrainers willing to proceed further to the disadvantage of their new sovereign.

The ally certainly became more exigeant. In various towns on the Moselle, Epinal, Charmes, Dompaire, etc., the Lorraine soldiers were replaced by Burgundians. This immediate and arrogant use of the rights he had wrested from the Duke of Lorraine alienated many who had been warm for Burgundy. Rene himself admired Charles as Maximilian had done. The strong man exercised a fascination over both youths, but the duke did not turn this admiration into real friendship, underestimating the character of his protege. His measures, too, were taken without the slightest consideration for local feeling. Garrison after garrison was installed and commanded to obey his officers alone, while the soldiers were allowed to levy their own rations, equivalent to raids on a friendly country. As always, the agglomeration of mercenary companies was difficult to control. The duke did not succeed in having those remote from his jurisdiction kept in due restraint. Complaints began to pour into his headquarters. Public sentiment shifted day by day. The Burgundian became the personification of a public foe. Before Charles proceeded on his way to Alsace, Rene had begun to lose his admiration and it was not long before he impatiently awaited an opportunity to break with his too doughty protector.



Alsace

During the four years that Charles had delayed in coming to look at the result of the bargain of 1469 in the Rhine valley, his lieutenant, Peter von Hagenbach, had given the inhabitants reason to regret the easy-going absentee Austrian seigneurs. Much had been done, undoubtedly, in restraining the lawlessness of the robber barons. The roads were well policed, and safety was assured to travellers. "I spy," was the motto blazoned on the livery of the forces led by Hagenbach up and down the land, until he had unearthed lurking vagabonds. It was acknowledged that gold and silver could be carried openly from place to place, and that night journeys were as safe as day. Still, this advantageous change had not won popularity for the man who wrought it. Perhaps the people thought it less burdensome to make their own little bargains with highwaymen or petty nobles,[8] a law unto themselves, than to meet the rigorous requisitions of the Burgundian tax collector.

It was the country that had profited most by the new administration. The small towns had long enjoyed great independence, and had shown ability in managing their own affairs. They wanted no interference. Not liked by those whom he had really protected, Hagenbach was absolutely hated by the burghers who felt his iron hand, without acknowledging that its pressure had more good than evil in it.

Then there were the neighbours to be considered. The Swiss had hated Sigismund and all Austrians, and had been prepared to prefer Burgundy as a power in the Rhinelands. But Hagenbach took no pains to win their friendship. His insolent fashion of referring to them as "fellows" or "rascals," added to acts of aggression, unchecked if not condoned by him, aroused bitter dislike to him in the confederated cantons,[9] and in their allies, Berne, Mulhouse, etc. By 1473, there was a growing sentiment in Helvetia that they would be happier if Austria had her own again, while the uneasiness in the cities that stood alone had greatly increased.

Within Hagenbach's immediate jurisdiction, the opposition to his measures took a definite form long before the duke's arrival there. The various commissioners sent by Charles to inspect the quality of his bargain had all agreed in an urgent recommendation to the duke to redeem, at the earliest possible moment, all the troublesome mortgages honeycombing his authority. Hagenbach, too, was fully convinced of the necessity for this measure, but he was not provided with sufficient money to accomplish it.

In the spring of 1473, therefore, he resolved to lay a new tax on wine. This impost, called the "Bad Penny," was bitterly resented for two reasons. The burden was oppressive to the vintners and it was an illegal measure, as no sanction had been given by the local estates. Three towns, Thann, Ensisheim, and Brisac, declared that they were determined to refuse payment.

Hagenbach marched a force into the Engelburg, a stronghold dominating Thann, bombarded the town, and took it easily. Thirty citizens were condemned to death as leaders in an iniquitous rebellion against the just orders of their lawful governor. Some of these, indeed, were pardoned, though their estates were confiscated, but five or six were publicly executed, and their bodies hung exposed to view on the market-place, as a hideous object-lesson of the cost of resisting Burgundian orders.

One execution sufficed to render Ensisheim submissive, but Brisac proved more obstinate. The magistrates there did not resort to force. They declared there was no need, for they were fully protected by the article in the treaty of St. Omer, which forbade arbitrary imposition of any tax on the part of the suzerain. Their determined refusal made the lieutenant consent to refer the question to the Duke of Burgundy, and messengers were despatched to Treves to represent the respective grievances of governor and governed. The collection of the tax was postponed until Charles could examine the situation.

A determined effort to bring the independent town of Mulhouse under Burgundian sway was another act of 1473, fanning opposition to a white heat that forged organised resistance to any extension of Burgundian authority. For three years, Hagenbach had endeavoured to convince the burghers of that imperial city that they would be wise to accept the duke's protection and have their debts paid. The latter were, indeed, oppressive, but there was fear lest "protection" might be more so, and conference after conference failed to produce the acquiescence desired by Hagenbach.

In 1473, that zealous servant of Burgundy declared that if the burghers persisted in their refusal he would resort to force. Their reply was that Mulhouse could not take such an important step without consulting her friends, the Swiss. "Are the cantons going to help you pay your debts?" was the sneering comment of Hagenbach. "Mulhouse is a bad weed in a rose garden, a plant that must be extirpated. Its submission would make a charming pleasure ground out of the Sundgau, Alsace, and Breisgau. The duke knew no city which he would prefer to Mulhouse for a sojourn," were his further statements.[10]

Two days were given to the town council for an answer. Hagenbach remarked that it was useless to think that time could be gained until the mortgaged territories should return to Austria. "Far from planning redemption, Duke Sigismund is now preparing to cede to Charles le temeraire as much again of his domain and vassals." Still Mulhouse was not convinced that the only course open to her was to let Charles pay her debts and receive her homage. No answer was forthcoming in the two days, but ready scribes had prepared many copies of Hagenbach's letter, which were sent to all who might be interested in checking these proposals of Burgundy.

On February 24, 1473, a Swiss diet met at Lausanne and there the matter was weighed. Hagenbach's letter was shown to those who had not seen it, and methods of rescuing Mulhouse from her dilemma were carefully considered. Years ago a union had existed between the forest cantons and the Alsatian cities. There were propositions to renew this alliance so as to present a strong front to their Burgundian neighbour. The cantons had enough to do with their own affairs, but the result of the discussion was that, on March 14th, a ten-year Alsatian confederation was formed in imitation of the Swiss.

The chief members were Basel, Colmar, Mulhouse, Schlestadt, and two dioceses, and it is referred to as the Basse-Union or the Lower Union, the purposes being to guarantee mutually the rights of the contracting parties, to meet for discussion on various questions, and, specifically, to help Mulhouse pay her debts. A few days later, March 19th, there was a fresh proposition to make an alliance between this Basse-Union and the Swiss confederation. This required a referendum. Each Swiss delegate received a copy of the articles to take back to his constituents for their consideration. No bond between the confederation and the union was, however, in existence at the time when Charles was approaching Alsace. Various conciliatory measures on his part had somewhat lessened immediate opposition to him, but, nevertheless, there were frequent conferences about affairs. Diets were almost continuous and there were strenuous efforts to raise money to free Mulhouse from her hampering financial embarrassments.

Hagenbach had not followed up his threats of immediate war measures, but it was known that he had obtained imperial authorisation to assume the jurisdiction of Mulhouse, a step which her allies hoped to forestall by settling her debts. Strasburg offered to contribute six hundred florins, Berne and Soleure seven hundred, Basel four hundred, while Colmar, Schlestadt, Obernai, and Kaisersberg together hoped to raise another four hundred. A diet was called at Basel for December 11th, and Zuerich and Lucerne were expected to enter into the union. The tidings of the duke's approach were undoubtedly a stimulus to these renewed efforts to make the league strong enough to withstand him. The sentiment expressed by the pious Knebel, "May God protect us from his mighty hand," voiced probably a wide-spread dread.

When Charles entered Alsace, his escort was large enough to inspire fear, but there was no opposition to his advance, though consultations, now at one city, now at another, were frequent. The duke paid little heed to their deliberations, under-estimating their importance, while he was gracious to any words of welcome offered to him. Strasburg sent him greetings while he rested at Chatenois, and so did Colmar. The latter town expressed her willingness to receive him and an escort of one or two hundred, but was firm in her refusal to admit a larger force within her walls. By this precaution, Charles was baffled in his plot to gain possession of the town, and so passed on his way.

On Christmas eve, the traveller made a formal entry into Brisac, where a temporary court was established, and where audience was given to various embassies with the customary Burgundian pomp. Meanwhile the troops, forced to camp without the walls, were a burden to the land, and seem to have been more odious than usual to their unwilling hosts.

The citizens of Brisac offered homage on their knees and had their hopes raised high by their suzerain's pleasant greeting, but they failed to obtain the hoped for assurance that the treaty of St. Omer should be observed in all respects. Among the envoys were many who undertook to remonstrate in a friendly fashion about the imposition of the "Bad Penny" tax on the Alsatians, and the over-severity of Hagenbach's administration. The cause of Mulhouse, too, was urged, notably by Berne. The representations of these last envoys were received most courteously. The duke rather thought that the city could be detached from the league, and therefore gave himself some trouble to establish friendly relations.

To Mulhouse, too, his tone was conciliatory. He wrote a pleasant letter to the town and despatched a councillor thither, who would, he assured them, arrange matters to their satisfaction. But an abortive coup d'etat on the part of the Burgundians, which would have given them possession of Basel, destroyed the effect of these reassuring phrases. The burghers were warned in time, looked to their defences, and banished from their midst every individual suspected of Burgundian sympathies. Every newcomer was carefully scrutinised before he was admitted within the walls, and the Rhine was guarded most rigidly. The propriety of these precautions was soon proven.

Charles ordered a review at Ensisheim, the official capital of the landgraviate. Thither marched his troops from every quarter. Those from Saeckingen, Lauffen, and Waldshut found their shortest route over the bridge at Basel, and there they appeared and begged to be allowed to cross. Their sincerity was doubted, and the least foothold on the city's territory was sternly refused then and a week later, when the request was renewed. The method of introducing friendly troops into a town and then seizing it by a sudden coup de main was what Charles had been suspected of plotting for Metz, and later for Colmar, and there seems to be no doubt that a third essay of this rather stupid stratagem was planned, only to fail again, and this time to be peculiarly disastrous in its reflex action.

The review took place and the strength of the Burgundian mercenaries was duly displayed to the Alsatians, but no satisfactory assurances were given to Brisac and the other towns that their suzerain would restrict his measures of taxation and administration to the stipulations of the contract of St. Omer. On the contrary, when Charles passed on to Burgundy it was plain to all that he had not restricted the powers of his lieutenant in any respect, but rather had endorsed his general method of procedure.

One night was spent at Thann[11] and then the duke took his leave of the annexed region whose people had hoped so much from his visit to them. In mid-January he arrived at Besancon, his winter journeying being wonderfully easy in the unprecedentedly mild weather.

Hagenbach lost no time in proceeding to the levying of the impost now approved by the duke, who had at the same time expressly ordered that the people were to be treated mildly, and that summary punishment was to check all excesses on the part of the eight hundred Picards employed by Hagenbach to aid the tax collector. The governor, however, saw no further need for gentle treatment or for respect to privileges. In Brisac, municipal elections were arbitrarily set aside, and officers appointed by the governor. The corporation was curtailed of power, and the burghers were forced to prepare to march against Mulhouse.

Having accomplished his duty to his own satisfaction, Hagenbach proceeded to give himself some relaxation. His own marriage took place on January 24th, and he celebrated the occasion with great fetes. It is of this period in Hagenbach's life that the stories of gross excess are told.[12] It seems as though, having once abandoned restraint towards the city, his personal passions, too, were permitted to run riot, and he spared no wife nor maid to whom he took a fancy.

As he had succeeded in impressing the "Bad Penny" on the little independent landowners, he tried to extend it to the territory of the Bishop of Basel. Vehement was the opposition which was reported to the duke, who promptly ordered his lieutenant to restore the prisoners he had taken and to cease his aggressions. Charles was not ready to meet the Swiss, and was willing to defer an issue, but he was wholly ignorant of the real strength of the confederation. Hagenbach then proceeded to make a stronghold of Brisac and waited for further action.

[Footnote 1: De Roye, p. 105.]

[Footnote 2: He also issued administrative orders. It was at this time that he instituted a high court of justice and a chamber of accounts at Mechlin, both designed to serve for all the Netherland provinces. This measure was bitterly resented by the local authorities. (Fredericq. Le role politique et social des ducs de Bourgogne, p. 183.)]

[Footnote 3: Letters are preserved in the Cologne archives. (Toutey, p. 64.)]

[Footnote 4: Toutey, p. 66. This document is in the Cologne archives.]

[Footnote 5:See Toutey, p. 66. These are printed in Lacomblet, Urkunden, iv., 468, 470.]

[Footnote 6: Jean de Roye is the only contemporary to tell this story. Both Toutey and Kirk reject it. (See Toutey, p. 76; Kirk, ii., 271.)]

[Footnote 7: Toutey's suggestion.]

[Footnote 8: All sons inherited their father's title, so that there were many landless lords.]

[Footnote 9: At this period there were eight in the confederation, which was a loose structure in which each member preserved her individuality.]

[Footnote 10: See Toutey, p. 82, who quotes from the Cartulaire de Mulhouse, iv., et passim. This last furnishes the details for these passages.]

[Footnote 11: In this account Toutey's conclusions are accepted. There are discrepancies as to dates among the various chroniclers. The duke's itinerary as given in Comines-Lenglet (ii., 211) does not agree with that of Knebel and others. But the facts of the narrative are little affected by the variations. The following is the itinerary accepted by Toutey:

Dep. from Ensisheim Jan. 8 Stay at Thann " 9-10 Dep. from Belfort " 11 Besancon " 17 Auxonne, slept " 18 Dijon, a " 23 Dijon, d Feb. 19, 1474 Auxonne, slept " 20 Dole " 21-March 8 (Invested with the Franche Comte of Burgundy.) Besancon March 12 or 15 Vesoul and Luxeuil March 23-28 Lorraine " 28 Luxemburg Apr. 4-June 9 Easter fetes " 10 Fete of the Order of the Garter " 23 Brussels June 27]

[Footnote 12: Kirk considers that they are well founded and too indecent to repeat.]



CHAPTER XIX

THE FIRST REVERSES

1474-1475

"Who is this that cometh, this that is glorious in his apparel, travelling in the greatness of his strength?" These words in Latin, on scrolls fluttering from the hands of living angels, met the eyes of Charles of Burgundy at his retarded arrival in Dijon. And the confident duke had no wish to disclaim the subtle flattery of the implied comparison between him and the subject of the words of the prophet.[1]

The traveller had slept at Perigny, about a league from the capital of Burgundy, so as to make the last stage of his journey thither in leisurely state. Unpropitious weather on Saturday, January 22d, the appointed day, made postponement of the ducal parade necessary, out of consideration for the precious hangings and costly ecclesiastical robes that were to grace the ceremonies of reception and investiture. Fortunately, Sunday, January 23d, dawned fair, and heralds rode through the city streets at an early hour, proclaiming the duke's gracious intention to make his entry on that day. Immediately, tapestries were spread and every one was alert with the last preparations.



Lavish was the display of biblical phrases, like that cited, which were planted along the ducal way and on a succession of stagings erected for various exhibits. On the great city square, the platform was capacious and many actors played out divers roles. Here stood the scroll-bearing angels on either side of a living representation of Christ. In the background clustered three separate groups of people representing, respectively, the three Estates. Above their heads more inscriptions were to be read.[2] "All the nations desire to see the face of Solomon," "Behold him desired by all races," "Master, look on us, thy people," were among the legends.

The stately pageant, in which dignitaries, lay and ecclesiastical, from other parts of the duke's domains participated, proceeded past all these soothing insinuations that Charles of Burgundy resembled Solomon in more ways than one, to the church of St. Benigne. Here pledges of mutual fidelity were exchanged between the Burgundians and their ruler. The Abbe of Citeaux placed the ducal ring solemnly upon Charles's finger as a symbol, and he was invested with all the prerogatives of his predecessors.

From the church, the train wound its way to the Ste. Chapelle, past more stages decorated with more flowers of scriptural phrase such as "A lion which is strongest among beasts and turneth not away for any," "The lion hath roared, who will not fear?" "The righteous are as bold as a lion," etc.

Two days later, the concluding ceremonies of investiture were performed, and followed by a banquet. Charles was arrayed in royal robes, and his hat was in truth a crown, gorgeous with gold, pearls, and precious stones. After a repast, prelates, nobles, and civic deputies were convened in a room adjoining the dining-hall, where first they listened to a speech from the chancellor. When he had finished, the duke himself delivered an harangue wherein he expatiated on the splendours of the ancient kingdom of Burgundy. Wrongfully usurped by the French kings, it had been belittled into a duchy, a measure much to be regretted by the Burgundians. Then the speaker broke off abruptly with an ambiguous intimation "that he had in reserve certain things that none might know but himself."[3]

What was the significance of these veiled allusions? It could not have been the simple scheme to erect a kingdom, because that was certainly known to many. Charles had, doubtless, an ostrich-like quality of mind which made him oblivious to the world's vision but even he could hardly have ignored the prevalence of the rumours regarding the interview of Treves, rumours flying north, east, south, and west. Might not this suggestion of secrets yet untold have had reference to the ripening intentions of Edward IV. and himself to divide France between them?

When his own induction into his heritage was accomplished, Charles was ready to pay the last earthly tribute to his parents. A cortege had been coming slowly from Bruges bearing the bodies of Philip and Isabella to their final resting-place in the tomb at Dijon, to which they were at last consigned.[4]

A few weeks more Charles tarried in the city of his birth, and then went to Dole where he was invested with the sovereignty of the Franche-Comte and confirmed the privileges. Thus after seven years of possession de facto, he first actually completed the formalities needful for the legal acquisition of his paternal heritage. The expansion of that heritage had been steady for over half a century. Every inch of territory that had come under the shadow of the family's administration had remained there, quickly losing its ephemeral character, so that temporary holdings were regarded in the same light as the estates actually inherited. At least, Charles, sovereign duke, count, overlord, mortgagee, made no distinction in the natures of his tenures. But just as the last link was legally riveted in his own chain of lands, he was to learn that there were other points of view.

The statement is made and repeated, that the report of the duke's after-dinner speech at Dijon was a fresh factor in alarming the people in Alsace and Switzerland about his intentions, and making them hasten to shake off every tie that connected them with Charles and his ambitious projects of territorial expansion.[5] As a matter of fact, there had been for months constant agitation in the councils of the Swiss Confederation and the Lower Union as to the next action.

Opposition to Sigismund had been long existent, antipathy to Austria was so deeply rooted that the idea of restoring that suzerainty in the Rhine valley was slow to gain adherents. Probably the arguments that came from France were what carried conviction. It was a time when Louis spared no expense to attain the end he desired, while he posed as a benevolent neutral.[6] His servants worked underground. Their open work was very cautious. It was French envoys, however, who announced to the Swiss Diet, convened at Lucerne, that Sigismund was quite ready to come to an understanding in regard to an alliance and the redemption of his mortgaged lands.

That was on January 21, 1474, the very day when the mortgagee was preparing to ride into Dijon and read the agreeable assurances of his wisdom, strength, and puissance. Yet a month and Sigismund's envoys were seated on the official benches at the Basel diet, ranking with the delegates from the cantons and the emissaries from France. On March 27th, the diet met at Constance, and for three days a debate went on which resulted in the drafting of the Ewige Richtung, the Reglement definitif, a document which contained a definite resolution that the mortgaged lands were to be completely withdrawn from Burgundy, and all financial claims settled. This resolution was subscribed to by Sigismund and the Swiss cantons. Further, it was decided to ignore one or two of the stipulations made at St. Omer and to offer payment to Charles at Basel instead of Besancon.

Meantime that creditor, perfectly convinced in his own mind that the legends of his birthplace were correct in their rating of his character and his qualities, again crossed Lorraine and entered Luxemburg, where he celebrated Easter. It was shortly after that festival, on April 17th, that a letter from Sigismund was delivered to him announcing in rather casual and off-hand terms that he was now in a position to repay the loan of 1469, made on the security of those Rhinelands. Therefore the Austrian would hand over at Basel 80,000 florins, 40,000 the sum received by him, 10,000 paid in his behalf to the Swiss, and 30,000 which he understood that Charles had expended during his temporary incumbency,[7] and he, Sigismund, would resume the sovereignty in Alsace.

It was all very simple, at least Sigismund's wish was. The expressions employed in the paper were, however, so ambiguous, the language so involved, that Charles expended severe criticism on his cousin's style before he proceeded to answer his subject-matter. To that he replied that the bargain between him and Sigismund was none of his seeking. The latter had implored his protection from the Swiss, had begged relief in his financial straits. Touched by his petitions, Charles had acceded to his prayers and the lands had enjoyed security under Burgundian protection as they never had under Austrian. Charles had duly acquitted himself of his obligations, he had done nothing to forfeit his title. The conditions of redemption offered by Sigismund were not those expressly stipulated. If a commission were sent to Besancon, the duke would see to it that the merits of the case were properly examined.