Chapter X: The Reign of Louis Xi: the Triumph of the Crown (1)

Louis XI, that king more adroit than the most adroit courtier;
that old fox furnished with lion’s claws; powerful and shrewd,
served secretly as in the light, constantly sheltered by his
guards as by a shield, and accompanied by his executioners as
with a sword.--VICTOR HUGO.

[Sidenote: [1461-1483 A.D.]]

During fifteen years, the dauphin, afterwards Louis XI, had maintained a struggle against his father, which had commenced on account of Agnes Sorel and had been continued by mutual distrust. Throughout this struggle the dauphin had shown a most indomitable pride and the utmost tenacity, and in all this delicate and false situation he affected to act as the prince and as the prince who would one day be king. If he rebelled against the king it was against the king only, and not against the crown. Such at least is the attitude revealed by the tone of his letters.

As soon as he succeeded to the throne, he hastened to leave his little court of Gennape and return to France. He asked the duke of Burgundy to lend him an escort of four thousand soldiers in case he should meet with opposition from his father’s councillors who might wish to impose their own conditions on him. However, on arriving at Avesnes, the nobility thronged around him to swear allegiance, and, finding his escort unnecessary, he sent it back to the duke. He repaired at once to Rheims to be crowned and at that place the throng became greater. This adulation, which always follows when a new prince succeeds one but little loved, made Louis believe that he would be popular. Perhaps his absence, his exile, which had been interpreted as a protest or a disgrace, had contributed to this apparent popularity. It was, at least, very ephemeral.

Louis XI was thirty-eight years old when he ascended the throne, with his experience of governing and his virtues and vices equally matured by his exile. Like his father, he loved power and did not wish to share it. A contemporary, Chastelain,[b] called him “the universal spider,” because he never ceased weaving a web of which he was the centre, and the threads of which extended everywhere. Not only did he wish to decide everything himself, but he was loath to accept any advice, and the least opposition would make him obstinate. Like his father, also, he was observant, discreet, suspicious, esteeming men but little, rewarding them richly when he had need of their services and forgetting them the day after. He had in this respect the three faults that Chastelain[b] attributes to Charles VII--fickleness, diffidence, and envy. On the other hand he had a wonderful discernment in seeing the use that each person could be to him. Those who served him must serve him absolutely. Independence to him seemed conspiracy. Comines[c] says that he did not like to have serve him “the great ones who could surpass him.” He preferred to choose for his agents men of humble birth whom he took from the lowest of his household, knowing them to be more easy to control and capable of a more blind devotion. Reared in the school of Charles VII, he resembled him very much, in spite of the aversion he had shown toward him. He continued his reign and his policy. He employed the same means to maintain, or to extend the results already attained. If he had any advantage over him, it was the knowledge, which he had acquired by personal experience, of the opposition he would be obliged to combat.

At the same time, to these hereditary traits he joined others. He was distinguished by a feverish activity, a perpetual restlessness, an irresistible taste for intriguing. He would complicate affairs on all sides, then meet the difficulties and make light of them. Chastelain[b] describes him as “scheming new thoughts day and night.” His government was very secret. He sought the shadowy ways, which makes it difficult for one to follow the thread of his diplomacy, the details of which necessarily escape us. He was educated, like most of the princes of his day. He was possessed of great keenness and vivacity--almost too much, as he very often allowed himself to be carried away by it. He had been surrounded, at Gennape, by a small court, vivacious and refined. He had a certain loftiness in his views, notwithstanding all that the historians have said of his littleness and his superstition. In his relations with the pope he showed a sense of nobility and justice. But these sentiments and qualities, which keep him from being regarded altogether as a bad man, had but little influence on his political conduct. His passion to rule, and to carry on secret intrigues, was so strong that it destroyed all scruples, if he had any. He knew no rule save his own will, no goal but success. He had no respect for established things, but followed the necessity of the moment. He sought to attach men to himself only by corruption, believing that the more corrupt they were the more useful they would prove; he was prodigal with money to gain tools in France and traitors in the neighbouring states. In fact the celebrated portrait of _The Prince_, for which he served as one of the models employed by Macchiavelli,[d] gives a just idea of the personal government, arbitrary and mysterious, which existed in the sixteenth century and which most fortunately is no longer possible, at least under the same conditions.

He has received much praise for his ability. He hastened the progress of the unity, and the ruin of the great feudal houses. The crown acquired important provinces during his reign and he greatly augmented the power of France. These results are incontestable, but at the same time we must remember it was not he alone who brought them about; that these results had been preparing for a long time; that the twenty years of Charles VII had done much; that Louis XI had, in the beginning, compromised by his imprudence the conquests of the preceding reign and that his principal merit was to profit, in an incontestable manner, by favourable circumstances. If he has been regarded as a great statesman, it is because, meeting with reverses in the commencement of his reign, he in the end triumphed over his enemies who were less calculating and less prudent than himself. For it is the final success that sways the judgment of posterity, and even the judgment of contemporaries, as is shown by Philip de Comines,[c] that observer so profound, that spirit so penetrating and so cold.[e]

RELATIONS WITH THE CHURCH

After his coronation Louis looked around the land he was now about to “bring into order,” and was alarmed at the condition of the national church. A national church it really deserved to be called; for, while confessing the superiority of Rome in antiquity and rank, it rested firmly on the decision of the Council of Bâle, and acknowledged a power superior to the holy see. It defended, also, freedom of election to vacant benefices, and refused the annates, or first year’s income of bishoprics and incumbencies, to the exchequer of the pope. Louis saw that the first advance against the citadel of civil liberty was a return to the obedience of Rome. He gave up at once all the franchises and exemptions wrung with such difficulty by the church of France. He placed it again, bound hand and foot, under the heel of the successors of St. Peter, and even gave advantages to the ecclesiastical ruler which he had never held before. In return for this, the faithful son of the church was sure of the pontiff’s support. Though he oppressed his subjects, deceived his friends, and murdered his enemies by treachery, he had shown a most religious regard for the interest of the papacy, and was honoured with the title, which his successors have retained, of “the most Christian king.” The least Christian monarch of his time, being elevated by popish gratitude to this lofty position, it was only left for the adulation of the courtiers to bestow upon him the title of “majesty,” which great word had not yet been applied to the person of the sovereigns of Europe; but Louis XI set the example of claiming the highest sounding and least deserved epithets, and cheated and grovelled through a long reign of trickery and meanness as his Majesty the Most Christian King. When the church was again governed by a foreign master, whom it was easy for the king to win over to his side, the next important step in the progress of his design was to render the people powerless. For this purpose he did away with the free-archers of the previous reign. No village was allowed its butts and shooting-grounds. The parish was relieved of the expense of finding an “archer good” for the interior defence of the country, and the spirit of emulation in warlike sports was discouraged. But the land was not to be left unprotected. So in addition to his Scottish allies, he took into his pay large bodies of Swiss mercenaries, whose valour had struck him with such admiration at the battle of Sankt Jakob near Bâle.

He now more than doubled the taxes; and as, although saving and grasping from personal disposition, he was liberal and even generous from policy, he derived great support from the absence of a home-force of his own subjects, and the devoted adhesion of penniless mountaineers from the two poorest and most courageous populations in Christendom. We will only insert a word of surprise here with regard to the Swiss, that a people who are honoured throughout the world for the defence of their liberties at home, should be the scorn and shame of all generous minds by furnishing their strength and valour for the maintenance of the worst tyrannies abroad.

THE WAR OF THE PUBLIC WEAL

[Sidenote: [1465 A.D.]]

The nobility saw the object of the king, and took arms to prevent the extinction of their order, and the diminution of their individual power. A cry is never wanting when people are determined to quarrel, and as the feudal chiefs could not, with any decency, state openly the reasons of their opposition, they placed it upon the two grounds of the sacrifice of French ecclesiastical liberty by the abrogation of the Pragmatic Sanction, and the intolerable weight of taxation which the new king had imposed. This, therefore, was called “the war of the public weal.” Princes and feudatories, and all who had a lingering regard for the grand old days of license and free quarters, took up the patriotic cause. Charles of France, the king’s brother, was the nominal chief, but the real head of this league was Charles the Bold [properly Le Téméraire or the Rash], at this time called count of Charolais, eldest son of the good Philip, duke of Burgundy. In the list besides him were read the names of Saint-Pol, Brittany, Lorraine, Alençon, Bourbon, Armagnac, and Dunois. In short, the two parties were perfectly aware of each other’s intentions, and met face to face. If the league succeeded, Louis’ life would have been short, and a regency was openly promised. If Louis was successful, farewell to the great nobility, its independent power and hereditary magnificence; it must sink into an ornament of the court, or be exterminated altogether. It was the life of one or the other which lay upon the scales; and though the swords were sharpest, and the cause apparently the freest on the side of the great vassals, the cunning, the policy, the perseverance were all on the side of the king. Suddenly the oppressors of the towns, and the harsh masters of country populations, affected a deep interest in the common weal. With haughty condescension they assumed the championship of the overburdened commons, and kept them at the same time from coming “between the wind and their nobility,” as if contact with them would have stained their coats of arms. But Louis, dressed in very undignified apparel, looking like a small shopkeeper, and affecting no airs of grandeur or superiority, entered into familiar talk with any well-to-do citizen he encountered, joked with him about his family, poked him under the ribs to give emphasis to his innuendoes, and strolled off to have a merry conversation with somebody else. Nobody could believe that so free-spoken a gentleman cared less for the common people than the prince of Charolais, who would have put a townsman to death if he stood in his way; and in a short time the people liked better to pay their taxes to a man who put them at their ease, than to owe their deliverance to a set of champions who despised them in their hearts and insulted them in their manners.

_The Battle of Montlhéry and the Treaty of Conflans_

Louis saw his advantage, and tried to gain his object by a battle with the confederates at Montlhéry, where neither party was decidedly victorious.[f]

An account of this battle is given by Monstrelet.[q] His description, however, is criticised by his continuator,[p] who professes to draw on other authorities and whose brief account may be quoted. The later chronicler says: “At this battle which was fought on Tuesday the 6th day of July, in the year 1465, the king of France, coming with all haste from beyond Orleans to Paris, halted at early morn at Châtres, under Montlhéry, and that having taken scarcely any refreshment, and without waiting for his escort, which was, for its number, the handsomest body of cavalry ever raised in France, he so valiantly attacked the army of the count de Charolais and his Burgundians that he put to the rout the van division. Many of them were slain, and numbers taken prisoners. News of this was speedily carried to Paris, whence issued forth upward of thirty thousand persons, part of whom were well mounted. They fell in with parties of Burgundians who were flying, and made them prisoners; they defeated also those from the villages of Vanvres, Issi, Sevres, St. Cloud, Arcueil, Surennes, and others.

“At this recounter, great booty was gained from the Burgundians, so that their loss was estimated at two hundred thousand crowns of gold. After the van had been thus thrown into confusion, the king, not satisfied with this success, but desirous to put an end to the war, without taking any refreshments or repose, attacked the main body of the enemy with his guards and about four hundred lances: but the Burgundians had then rallied, and advanced their artillery, under the command of the count de Saint-Pol, who did on that day the greatest service to the count de Charolais. The king was hard pressed in his turn, insomuch that at times he was in the utmost personal danger, for he had but few with him, was without artillery, and was always foremost in the heat of the battle; and considering how few his numbers were, he maintained the fight valiantly and with great prowess. It was the common report of the time, that if he had had five hundred more archers on foot, he would have reduced the Burgundians to such a state, that nothing more would have been heard of them in war for some time.

“The count de Charolais, on this day, lost his whole guard,--and the king also lost the greater part of his. The count was twice made prisoner by the noble Geoffroy de Saint Belin and Gilbert de Grassy, but was rescued each time. Towards evening the Scots carried off the king, that he might take some refreshments; for he was tired and exhausted, having fought the whole of the day without eating or drinking, and led him away quietly and without noise, to the castle of Montlhéry. Several of the king’s army not having seen him thus led off the field, and missing him, thought he was either slain or taken, and took to flight. For this reason, the count du Maine, the lord admiral De Montaulban, the lord de la Barde, and other captains, with seven or eight hundred lances, abandoned the king in this state, and fled, without having struck a blow during the whole of the day. Hence it is notorious, that if all the royal army who were present at this battle had behaved as courageously as their king, they would have gained a lasting victory over the Burgundians; for the greater part of them were defeated, and put to flight. Many indeed were killed on the king’s side, as well as on that of the enemy; for after the battle was ended, there were found dead on the field three thousand six hundred, whose souls may God receive!

“The king of France came to Paris, the 18th day of July, after the battle of Montlhéry, and supped that night at the hôtel of his lieutenant-general, Sir Charles de Melun,--where, according to the account of Robert Gaguin, a large company of great lords, damsels, and citizens’ wives supped with him, to whom he related all that had happened at Montlhéry. During the recital, he made use of such doleful expressions that the whole company wept and groaned at his melancholy account. He concluded by saying, that if it pleased God, he would soon return to attack his enemies, and either die or obtain vengeance on them, in the preservation of his rights. He, however, acted differently, having been better advised; but it must be observed, that some of his warriors behaved in a most cowardly manner,--for had they all fought with as much courage as the king, he would have gained a complete victory over his enemies.”[p]

Continuing, the chronicler gives an extended account of the events of the ensuing months, during which the allies approached Paris and besieged the city. “The king,” he says, “finding that he had many enemies within his realm, considered on the means of procuring additional men-at-arms to those he had,--and it was calculated how many he could raise within Paris; for this purpose, it was ordered that an enrolment should be made of all capable of bearing arms, so that every tenth man might be selected to serve the king. This, however, did not take place,--for such numbers of men-at-arms now joined the king that there was no need of such a measure. The king was very much distressed to get money for the pay of these troops, and great sums were wanted; for those towns which had been assigned for the payment of a certain number of men-at-arms, being now in the possession of the rebellious princes, paid no taxes whatever to the crown, for they would not permit any to be collected in those districts.

“On the 3rd of August, the king, having a singular desire to afford some comfort to the inhabitants of his good town of Paris, lowered the duties on all wines sold by retail within that town, from a fourth to an eighth; and ordained that all privileged persons should fully and freely exercise their privileges as they had done during the reign of his late father, the good Charles VII, whose soul may God pardon! He also ordered that every tax paid in the town, but those on provision, included in the six-revenue farms, which had been disposed of in the gross, should be abolished, namely, the duties on wood-yards, on the sales of cattle, on cloth sold by wholesale, on sea-fish and others; which was proclaimed that same day they were taken off, by sound of trumpets, in all the squares of the town, in the presence of Sir Denis Hesselin, the receiver of the taxes within the said town. On this being made public, the populace shouted for joy, sang carols in the streets, and at night made large bonfires.” Such deeds as this illustrate the diplomacy of a king who, whatever else he may have been, was assuredly a consummate politician. Meantime, as practical aids to defence, fires were lighted and a strict watch kept in Paris, and chains were fastened across the principal streets.

The guard kept about Paris was evidently not very strict, for the king was able to go and come at will. There were occasional sallies, but these amounted to nothing more than skirmishes. On the second of September, after several parleys, commissioners were at length named by the king and the confederates to settle their differences. There were numerous meetings which came to no very definite issue, but meantime the statecraft of the king was preparing the way for the final issues.[a]

[Sidenote: [1465-1467 A.D.]]

A truce was proclaimed in the two camps on October 1st; from that day until the 30th, when the articles of peace were registered by the parliament and published, the king continued to show an almost boundless friendship and confidence in his attitude toward the princes and especially toward the count of Charolais. He furnished their camp with supplies, he received their soldiers at Paris, he was present without guards at their military reviews, abandoning himself to their care; finally he acceded to their demands, conditions which seemed to make him wholly dependent upon them.[56] Thirty-six commissioners were appointed by him to reform all the abuses in the kingdom, of which the princes had complained; the past was to be forgotten; no one could blame anyone else for what he had done during the war, and all the confiscations proclaimed by the tribunals were revoked. In exchange for Berri the king gave his brother the duchy of Normandy, with the homage of the duchies of Brittany and Alençon, as a hereditary title in the male line. To the count of Charolais he restored the cities on the Somme which he had so recently bought back, reserving for himself only the right to buy them back again, not from him but from his heirs, for the sum of 200,000 gold crowns. He gave over to him, moreover, as a perpetual possession, Boulogne, Guines, Roye, Péronne, and Montdidier. To the duke of Calabria, regent of Lorraine, Mouzon, Ste. Menehould, Neufchâteau, he gave 100,000 crowns in cash and the pay of five hundred lances for a month.

To the duke of Brittany he granted the royal prerogative, which had been a subject of dispute between them, also a part of the aids; he ceded to him Étampes and Montfort and gave presents to his mistress, the same dame de Villequier who had formerly been mistress of Charles VII. To the duke de Bourbon he gave several seigniories in Auvergne, 100,000 crowns in cash, and the pay of three hundred lances; to the duke de Nemours, the government of Paris and of the Île-de-France, together with a pension and the pay of two hundred lances; to the count d’Armagnac, the castellanies of Rouergue, which he had lost, a pension, and the pay of a hundred lances; to the count de Dunois, the restitution of his domain, a pension, and a company of gendarmes; to the sire d’Albret, various seigniories on his frontier. He gave back to the sire de Lohéac the office of marshal with two hundred lances; he made Tannegui du Châtel master of the horse; De Beuil was made admiral; the count of Saint-Pol constable. Finally he pardoned Antoine de Chabannes, count of Dammartin, gave back all his estates, and granted him a company of a hundred lances. Such were the principal clauses of the Treaty of Conflans, which was the most humiliating that rebel subjects ever extorted from a crown, and also the most degrading for the character of the allied princes, because they concluded a war which they had undertaken under the pretext of the public good, by sharing the spoils of the people as well as those of the king.[g]

POLITICAL INTRIGUES

Louis now commenced one of the games which must have given him as much enjoyment as if he had been playing a game of chess. How to move a castle to resist a knight, or a number of pawns to surround a bishop, how to keep Normandy in order by stirring up the enmity of Brittany, how to paralyse the motions of the young duke of Burgundy--for in 1467 Charolais succeeded his father[57]--by inciting insurrections among the men of Liège--these were the problems worked out in the solitude of his own thoughts; for he boasted that he formed all his plans without the aid of others. The marshal De Brézé said, accordingly, that the horse the king rode was a much stronger animal than it looked, for it carried the whole council on its back. The results of the deliberations of this unanimous assemblage were soon visible in the vengeance which fell on the heads of the late confederacy. Charles of France, when all the others were getting lofty offices and rewards, had been presented with the dukedom of Normandy. The people of Rouen, who had at first taken part against the crown, received the first prince of the blood with acclamations, as a champion of their cause; and the king determined to show them they had chosen the wrong side. He raised an army, and hurried down to Caen; bought and bullied the duke of Brittany, whom he found in that town, out of his friendship with Charles; and then fell upon the capital of the duchy, as if it had been in open rebellion. His right-hand man on this, as on similar occasions, was the famous Tristan l’Hermite, the executioner. Tristan’s hands were soon full, for the king, with a vigorous impartiality which showed he was not a bigot to either side, cut off the heads of the aristocracy who had helped the princes, and threw hundreds of the commonalty, who had grumbled at his taxes, into the Seine.

[Sidenote: [1467-1468 A.D.]]

The church, which he had bought over by the sacrifice of the Pragmatic Sanction, and still kept in awe by threatening to restore it--as he had engaged to do by the treaty with the leaguers--was next to be taught that, however much he prized its friendship as a politician, its loftiest officers were the mere creatures of his breath. The system he pursued of excluding the higher orders from civil employments had been introduced into ecclesiastical affairs. Wherever the sharp eye of Louis detected a fitting instrument for his purpose in the person of a penniless adventurer, or townsman of the lowest rank, he was very soon invested with the necessary authority, and perverted justice in the character of president of a court, or vilified religion in the office of a bishop. The son of a small tradesman of the name of La Balue had early shown such amazing want of principle, combined with quickness of talent and audacious self-reliance, that he gained the notice of the king, then his confidence, then his friendship. The pope made great efforts to win over this ornament of the faith, who was now bishop of Évreux, and promised him the cardinal’s hat if he persuaded his master to enregister the suppression of the Pragmatic Sanction in the rolls of parliament; and in foolish reliance on the promises of La Balue, sent him the blushing sign of his dignity before the service was performed. La Balue relaxed in his endeavours, as his wages were already received, and gained additional favour with the king for ceasing to trouble him on the subject. The favour continued for a long time, but at last, when Louis, in reliance on his powers of persuasion, and the counsels of his friends, trusted himself again within the power of Charles of Burgundy, and hoped to win him over as he had done in the former interview which destroyed the league of the Public Weal, the advice given by the cardinal was found to lead to very dangerous results.[f]

THE STRUGGLE WITH CHARLES THE BOLD

This visit of Louis to the redoubtable Charles was one of the most famous incidents of his reign. Louis went with meagre attendance to Péronne, and placed himself entirely within the power of Charles. He of course had a safe conduct, but considering the morals of the time, this by no means insured him a safe return. His anomalous act has been variously criticised. On its face it seems foolhardy; yet rightly considered it speaks for the keen intelligence and practical political sagacity of the king quite as much as for his personal courage. The truth seems to be that Louis at this time felt that he could not trust his officers. Dammartin, his right-hand man, was, as we have seen, a soldier who had been in the employ of Louis’ father, and therefore at that earlier period had been in antagonism with Louis himself. His exact attitude of mind could not be known to the king, and the loyalty of various other officers was more than questionable. And to win battles loyal soldiers are absolutely necessary. On the other hand, in the field of diplomacy the king, acting as his own emissary, could feel sure of his results, in proportion as he felt confidence in his own powers. And he had every reason to trust his own sagacity. He knew himself more than a match for Charles in matters of intrigue, and in thus putting his antagonist upon his honour, and appearing to trust him, he doubtless felt that he paved the way most advantageously for his future movements. The visit did not turn out triumphantly, as we shall see, but its ill success was perhaps largely due to an incident beyond the king’s control. We may best gain an idea of the incidents of this famous visit through the narrative of the celebrated chronicler Comines, who at this time was in the employ of Burgundy and who afterwards became still more famous as the minister to Louis himself. Comines,[c] as Sismondi[g] says, considered history as a lesson in politics, not as a catalogue of events; but here he confines himself chiefly to the narrative, letting the story point its own moral.[a]

_Comines describes the Visit to Péronne (1468 A.D.)_

[Sidenote: [1468 A.D.]]

It was agreed [says Comines] that the king should come to Péronne. Thither he came, without any guard, more than the passport and parole of the duke of Burgundy; only he desired that the duke’s archers, under the command of the lord des Quedes (who was then in the duke’s service), might meet and conduct him; and so it was done, very few of his own train coming along with him. However, his majesty was attended by several persons of great quality and distinction, and among the rest by the duke de Bourbon, the cardinal his brother, and the count of Saint-Pol, constable of France, who had no hand in this interview, but was highly displeased at it; for he was now grown haughty, and disdained to pay that respect to the duke which he had formerly done; for which cause there was no love between them. Besides these, there came the cardinal Balue, the governor of Roussillon, and several others. When the king came near, the duke went out (very well attended) to meet him, conducted him into the town, and lodged him at the receiver’s, who had a fine house not far from the castle; for the lodgings in the castle were but small, and no way convenient.

War between two great princes is easily begun, but very hard to be composed, by reason of the accidents and consequences which often follow; for many secret practices are used, and orders given out on both sides to make the greatest efforts possible against the enemy, which cannot be easily countermanded as evidently appears by these two princes, whose interview was so suddenly determined that, neither having time to notify it to their ministers in remote parts, they went on performing the commands which their respective masters had given them before. The duke of Burgundy had sent for his army out of Burgundy, in which at that time there was abundance of the nobility; and among the rest the count of Bresse, the bishop of Geneva, and the count of Romont, all three brothers of the house of Savoy (for between the Savoyards and Burgundians there was always a firm amity), and some Germans, who were borderers upon both their territories. And you must know that the king had formerly imprisoned the count of Bresse, upon the account of two gentlemen whom he had put to death in Savoy, so that there was no right understanding between him and the king.

In this army there were likewise one Monsieur du Lau (who had been a favourite of the king’s, but upon some disgust had been kept afterwards a prisoner by him a long time, till at length he made his escape and fled into Burgundy), the lord d’Urfé, since master of the horse to the king of France, and the lord Poncet de Rivière; all which company arrived before Péronne as the king came into the town. Bresse and the last three entered the town with St. Andrew’s cross upon their clothes (supposing they should have been in time enough to have paid their respects to the duke of Burgundy, and to have attended him when he went out to receive the king), but they came a little too late; however, they went directly to the duke’s chamber to pay their duty, and in the name of the rest, the count of Bresse humbly besought his highness that himself and his three companies might have his protection (notwithstanding the king was in the town), according to the promise he was pleased to make them in Burgundy; and at the same time assured him they were at his service, when and against whomsoever he might command them. The duke returned them thanks, and promised them protection. The rest of this army, under the command of the marshal of Burgundy, encamped by the duke’s orders in the fields. The marshal had no more affection for the king than the above-mentioned gentlemen had; for the king had given him the government of Épinal in Lorraine, and taken it from him afterwards to give it to John, duke of Calabria. The king had notice presently of all these persons being in the town, and of the habits in which they arrived, which put him into a great consternation; so that he sent to the duke of Burgundy to desire he might be lodged in the castle, for he knew those gentlemen were his mortal enemies; the duke was extremely glad to hear it, appointed him his own lodgings, and sent to him to bid him fear nothing.

But the king at his coming to Péronne had quite forgot his sending of two ambassadors to Liège to stir them up to a rebellion against the duke,[58] and they had managed the affair with such diligence that they had got together such a considerable number, that the Liègeois went privately to Tongres (where the bishop of Liège and the lord of Humbercourt were quartered with more than two thousand men) with a design to surprise them. The bishop, the lord of Humbercourt, and some of the bishop’s servants were taken, but the rest fled and left whatever they had behind them, as despairing to defend themselves. After which action the Liègeois marched back again to Liège, which is not far from Tongres; and the lord of Humbercourt made an agreement for his ransom with one Monsieur William de Ville, called by the French Le Sauvage, a knight, who, suspecting the Liègeois would kill him in their fury, suffered the lord of Humbercourt to escape, but was slain himself not long after. The people were exceedingly overjoyed at the taking of their bishop. There were also taken with him that day several canons of the church, whom the people equally hated, and killed five or six of them for their first repast; among the rest there was one Monsieur Robert, an intimate friend of the bishop’s, and a person I have often seen attending him armed at all points, for in Germany this is the custom of the prelates. They slew this Robert in the bishop’s presence, cut him into small pieces, and in sport threw them at one another’s heads. Before they had marched seven or eight leagues, which was their full journey, they killed about sixteen canons and other persons, the majority of whom were the bishop’s servants; but they released some of the Burgundians, for they had been privately informed that some overtures of peace had already been made, and they were forced to pretend that what they had done was only against their bishop, whom they brought prisoner along with them into their city. Those who fled (as I said before) gave the alarm to the whole country, and it was not long before the duke had the news of it.

It was said by some that all of them were put to the sword; others affirmed the contrary (for in things of that nature, one messenger seldom comes alone); but there were some who had seen the habits of the canons who were slain, and supposing the bishop and the lord of Humbercourt had been of the number, they positively averred that all that had not escaped were killed, and that they had seen the king’s ambassadors among the Liègeois, and they mentioned their very names. All this being related to the duke, he gave credit to it immediately; and falling into a violent passion against the king, he charged him with a design of deluding him by coming thither; ordered the gates both of the town and castle to be suddenly shut up, and gave out, by way of pretence, that it was done for the discovery of a certain casket which was lost, and in which there were money and jewels to a very considerable value. When the king saw himself shut up in the castle, and guards posted at the gates, and especially when he found himself lodged near a certain tower, in which a count of Vermandois had caused his predecessor, one of the kings of France, to be put to death,[59] he was in great apprehension. I was at that time waiting upon the duke of Burgundy in the quality of chamberlain, and (when I pleased) I lay in his chamber, as was the custom of that family. When he saw the gates were shut, he ordered the room to be cleared, and told us who remained that the king was come thither to circumvent him; that he himself had never approved of the interview, but had complied purely to gratify the king; then he gave us a relation of the passages at Liège, how the king had behaved himself by his ambassadors, and that all his forces were killed. He was much incensed, and threatened his majesty exceedingly; and I am of opinion that if he had then had such persons about him as would have fomented his passion, and encouraged him to any violence upon the king’s person, he would certainly have done it, or at least committed him to the tower. None was present at the speaking of these words but myself and two grooms of his chamber, one of whom was called Charles de Visen, born at Dijon, a man of honour, and highly esteemed by his master. We did not exasperate, but soothed his temper as much as possibly we could. Some time after he used the same expressions to other people; and the news being carried about the town, it came at last to the king’s ear, who was in great consternation; and indeed so was everybody else, foreseeing a great deal of mischief, and reflecting on the variety of things which were to be managed for the reconciling of a difference between two such puissant princes, and the errors of which both of them were guilty in not giving timely notice to their ministers employed in their remote affairs, which must of necessity produce some extraordinary and surprising result.

The king thought himself (as I said before) a prisoner in the castle of Péronne, as he had good reason to do; for all the gates were shut and guarded by such as were deputed to that office, and continued so for two or three days; during which time the duke of Burgundy saw not the king, neither would he suffer but very few of his majesty’s servants to be admitted into the castle, and those only by the wicket; yet none of them was forbidden, but of the duke’s none was permitted to speak with the king, or come into his chamber, at least such as had any authority with their master. The first day there was great murmuring and consternation all over the town. The second, the duke’s passion began to cool a little, and a council was called, which sate the greater part of that day and night too. The king made private applications to all such as he thought qualified to relieve him, making them large promises, and ordering 15,000 crowns to be distributed among them; but the agent who was employed in this affair acquitted himself very ill, and kept a good part of the money for his own use, as the king was informed afterwards. The king was very fearful of those who had been formerly in his service, who, as I said before, were in the Burgundian army, and had openly declared themselves for his brother, the duke of Normandy.

The duke of Burgundy’s council were strangely divided in their opinions; the greatest part advised that the passport which the duke had given the king should be kept, provided his majesty consented to sign the peace as it was drawn up in writing. Some would have him prisoner as he was, without further ceremony. Others were for sending with all speed to the duke of Normandy, and forcing the king to make such a peace as should be for the advantage of all the princes of France. Those who proposed this advised that the king should be restrained, and a strong guard set upon him, because a great prince is never, without great caution, to be set at liberty after so notorious an affront. This opinion was so near prevailing, that I saw a person booted and ready to depart, having already several packets directed to the duke of Normandy in Brittany, and he waited only for the duke’s letters; and yet this advice was not followed. At last the king caused overtures to be made, and offered the duke de Bourbon, the cardinal his brother, the constable of France, and several others, as hostages, upon condition that, after the peace was concluded, he might return to Compiègne, and that then he would either cause the Liègeois to make sufficient reparation for the injury they had done, or declare war against them. Those whom the king had proposed for his hostages proffered themselves very earnestly, at least in public; I know not whether they said as much in private; I expect they did not: and, if I may speak my thoughts, I believe that the king would have left them there, and that he would never have returned.

The third night after this had happened, the duke of Burgundy did not pull off his clothes, but only threw himself twice or thrice upon the bed, and then got up again and walked about, as his custom was when anything vexed him. I lay that night in his chamber, and walked several turns with him. The next morning he was in a greater passion than ever, threatening exceedingly, and ready to put some great thing in execution; but, at last, he recollected himself, and it came to this result: that if the king would swear to the peace, and accompany him to Liège, and assist him to revenge the injuries which they had done him and the bishop of Liège, his kinsman, he would be contented. Having resolved on this, he went immediately to the king’s chamber, to acquaint him with his resolutions himself. The king had some friend or other who had given him notice of it before, and who had assured him that his person would be in no manner of danger, provided he would consent to those points; but that, if he refused, he would run himself into so great danger that nothing in the world could be greater.

When the duke came into his presence, his voice trembled by the violence of his passion, so inclinable was he to be angry again.[60] However, he made a low reverence with his body, but his gesture and words were sharp, demanding of the king if he would sign the peace as it was agreed and written, and swear to it when he had done. The king replied he would; and, indeed, there was nothing added to what had been granted in the treaty at Paris, which was to the advantage of the dukes of Burgundy or Normandy, but very much to his own; for it was agreed that the lord Charles of France should renounce the duchy of Normandy, and have Champagne and Brie, and some other places adjacent, as an equivalent. Then the duke asked him if he would go along with him to Liège, to revenge the treachery they had practised by his instigation, and by means of that interview. Then he put him in mind of the nearness of blood between the king and the bishop of Liège, who was of the house of Bourbon. The king answered that, when the peace was sworn, which he desired exceedingly, he would go with him to Liège, and carry with him as many or as few forces as he pleased. The duke was extremely pleased at his answer, and the articles being immediately produced and read, and the true cross which St. Charlemagne was wont to use, called “the cross of victory,” taken out of the king’s casket, the peace was sworn, to the great joy and satisfaction of all people; and all the bells in the town were rung. The duke of Burgundy immediately despatched a courier with the news of this conclusion of peace into Brittany, and with it he sent a duplicate of the articles, that they might see he had not deserted them, nor disengaged himself from their alliance; and, indeed, Duke Charles, the king’s brother, had a good bargain, in respect of what he had made for himself in the late treaty in Brittany, by which there was nothing left him but a bare pension, as you have heard before. Afterwards the king did me the honour to tell me that I had done him some service in that pacification.[c]

_The Storming of Liège_

The next day the two princes left together, Charles with his army, Louis with his modest following, increased by three hundred soldiers whom he had sent for from France. They arrived before Liège the 27th of October. Since Duke Charles’ last victories the city had neither ramparts nor moats; nothing seemed easier than to enter; but the besieged could not believe that King Louis was a sincere ally of the duke of Burgundy. They made a sortie, crying: “Long live the king! Long live France!” Their surprise was great when they saw Louis advance in person, the cross of St. André of Burgundy on his hat, and heard him exclaim: “Long live Burgundy!” Among the French themselves who were about the king, some were shocked; they could not be resigned to so little pride and to so much effrontery in the deceit. Louis himself paid no attention to their humour and kept repeating: “When pride prances in front, shame and disaster follow close at hand.”

The surprise of the people of Liège was turned into indignation. They resisted more energetically and for a longer time than had been expected; confident of their strength, the besiegers guarded themselves badly; the besieged increased the number of their sorties. One night Charles was informed that his people had just been attacked in a suburb they occupied and were fleeing. He mounted his horse, gave orders not to awaken the king, betook himself alone to the scene of combat, re-established order, and returned to tell Louis what had happened, the latter appearing very much pleased over the affair. At another time the night was dark and rainy: towards midnight a general attack awakened the whole Burgundian camp; the duke was soon afoot; an instant later the king arrived; the disorder was great. “The people of Liège came out on that side,” said some. “No, it was by this gate,” said others; nothing was certain, no order was given. Charles was impetuous and brave, but became easily alarmed. His followers were not a little worried not to see him put on a more cheerful countenance before the king. Louis on the other hand was cool and calm, firm in giving his orders, and prompt to take authority wherever he might be. “Take what people you have,” he said to the constable Saint-Pol who accompanied him, “and go in this direction; if they are to come upon us, they will pass on that side.” It was discovered afterwards that it had been a false alarm.

Two days later the situation was more serious; the inhabitants of a canton bordering the city, and called Franchemont, decided to make a desperate attempt and to fall unexpectedly upon the very quarter in which the two princes were lodged. One evening, at ten o’clock, six hundred men went out through one of the breaches in the wall, all of them men of stout heart and well armed. The duke’s house was the first to be attacked; twelve archers alone kept watch below and were playing at dice. Charles was in bed; Comines quickly helped him on with his helmet and cuirass; they went down the stairs; the archers were with difficulty preventing an entrance through the door; reinforcements arrived; the danger disappeared. The lodging of King Louis had also been attacked; but at the first sound the Scotch archers had hastened to the scene, had surrounded their master, and repulsed the attack, without troubling themselves to see whether their arrows killed the people of Liège or the Burgundians who had come to help. Almost all the braves of Franchemont perished in the enterprise they had undertaken. The duke and his chief leaders held a council the next day; the duke wanted to make an attack. The king was not present at this council; when informed as to what had been decided upon in it, he was not in favour of an assault. “You see,” he said, “the courage of this people; you know how much slaughter and uncertainty there is in a fight among the streets of a city; you will lose in it many useful men. Wait two or three days; the people of Liège will without doubt come to terms.” Almost all the Burgundian chiefs shared the king’s opinion. The duke became angry. “He wants to save the people of Liège,” he said; “what peril is there in an assault? There is no wall; they cannot put one single piece of artillery into action; I shall certainly not give up making an attack. If the king is afraid, let him go to Namur.” The insult shocked even the Burgundians. Louis was informed of it and said nothing. The next day, October 30th, 1468, the order for the assault was given; the duke marched at the head of his troops; the king came up. “Stay behind,” said Charles to him, “do not needlessly expose yourself to peril; I will have you informed when it is time.” “My brother,” returned Louis, “do you march in advance; you are the most fortunate prince alive; I follow you,” and he continued to march with him.