1469-1473

This successful expedition against Liege carried Charles of Burgundy to the very crest of his prosperity. His self-esteem was moreover gratified by the regard shown to him at home and abroad. A man who could force a royal neighbour into playing the pitiful rôle enacted by Louis XI. at Peronne was assuredly a man to be respected if not loved. And messages of admiration and respect couched in various terms were despatched from many quarters to the duke as soon as he was at Brussels to receive them.

Ghent had long since made apologies for the sorry reception accorded to their incoming Count of Flanders in 1467, but Charles had postponed the formal amende until a convenient moment of leisure. January 15, 1469, was finally appointed for this ceremony and the occasion was utilised to show the duke’s grandeur, the city’s humiliation, to as many people as possible who might spread the report far and wide.

It was a Sunday. Out in the courtyard of the palace the snow was thick on the ground where a group of Ghent burghers cooled their heels for an hour and a half, awaiting a summons to the ducal presence. There, too, where every one could see those emblems of the artisans’ corporate strength, fluttered fifty-two banners unfurled before the deans of the Ghentish métiers.

Within, the great hall of the palace showed a splendid setting for a brilliant assembly. The most famous Burgundian tapestries hung on the walls. Episodes from the careers of Alexander, of Hannibal, and of other notable ancients formed the background for the duke and his nobles, knights of the Golden Fleece, in festal array. As spectators, too, there were all the envoys and ambassadors then present in Brussels from “France, England, Hungary, Bohemia, Naples, Aragon, Sicily, Cyprus, Norway, Poland, Denmark, Russia, Livornia, Prussia, Austria, Milan, Lombardy, and other places.”

Charles himself was installed grandly on a kind of throne, and to his feet Olivier de la Marche conducted the civic procession of penitents. Before this pompous gathering, after a statement of the city’s sin and sorrow, the precious charter called the Grand Privilege of Ghent was solemnly read aloud, and then cut up into little pieces with a pen-knife. Next followed a recitation of the penalties imposed upon, and accepted by, the citizens (closing of the gates, etc)., and then the paternal Count of Flanders, duly mollified, pronounced the fault forgiven with the benediction, “By virtue of this submission and by keeping your promises and being good children, you shall enjoy our grace and we will be a good prince.” “May our Saviour Jesus Christ confirm and preserve this peace to the end of this century,” is the pious ejaculation with which the Relation closes.

Among the witnesses of the above scene, when the independent citizens of Ghent meekly posed as the duke’s children, were envoys from George Podiebrad, ex-king of Bohemia. Lately deposed by the pope, he was seeking some favourable ally who might help him to recover his realm. He had conceived a plan for a coalition between Bohemia, Poland, Austria, and Hungary to present a solid rampart against the Turks, and strong enough to dictate to emperor and pope. He was ready for intrigue with any power and had approached Louis XI. and Matthias Corvinus, King of Hungary, before turning to Charles of Burgundy.

Meantime, the Emperor Frederic tried to knit links with this same Matthias by suggesting that he might be the next emperor, assuring him that he could count on the support of the electors of Mayence, of Treves, and of Saxony. He himself was world-weary and was anxious to exchange his imperial cares for the repose of the Church could he only find a safe guardian for his son, Maximilian, and a desirable successor for himself. Would not Matthias consider the two offices?

Potent arguments like these induced Matthias not only to turn his back on Podiebrad, but to accept that deposed monarch’s crown which the Bohemian nobles offered him May 3, 1469. Then he proceeded to ally himself with Frederic, elector palatine, and with the elector of Bavaria. This was the moment when the ex-king of Bohemia made renewed offers of friendly alliance to Charles of Burgundy. In his name the Sire de Stein brought the draft of a treaty of amity to Charles which contained the provision that Podiebrad should support the election of Charles as King of the Romans, in consideration of the sum of two hundred thousand florins (Rhenish).

This modest sum was to secure not only Podiebrad’s own vote but his “influence” with the Archbishop of Mayence, the Elector of Saxony and the Margrave of Brandenburg. While Podiebrad thus dangled the ultimate hopes of the imperial crown before the duke’s eyes, he over-estimated his credulity. As a matter of fact the royal exile had no “influence” at all with the first named elector, and the last, too, showed no disposition whatsoever to serve his unstable policy. Both were content to advise Emperor Frederic. The sole result of the empty overtures was to increase Charles’s own sense of importance.

Another negotiation which sought him unasked had, however, a material influence on the course of events, and must be touched on in some detail. Sigismund of Austria first duke then archduke, Count of Tyrol, cousin of the Emperor Frederic, was a member of the House of Habsburg. In 1449, he had married Eleanor of Scotland, and became brother-in-law of Louis during the term of the dauphin’s first marriage. An indolent, extravagant prince, he was greatly dominated by his courtiers. His heritage as Count of Tyrol included certain territories lying far from his capital, Innsbruck. Certain portions of Upper Alsace, lands on both sides of the Rhine, Thurgau, Argau in Switzerland, Breisgau, and some other seigniories in the Black Forest were under his sway.

These particular domains were so remote from Innsbruck that the authority of the hereditary overlord had long been eluded. The nobles pillaged the land near their castles very much at their own sweet will. The harassed burghers appealed to the Alsatian Decapole, and again to the free Swiss cantons for protection, and sometimes obtained more than they wanted.

Mulhouse was seriously affected by these lawless depredations. To her, Berne promised aid in a twenty-five years’ alliance signed in 1466, and at Berne’s insistance the cowardly nobles restrained their license. But when the city attempted to extend its authority Sigismund interfered. Having no army, however, he could not recover Waldshut, which the Swiss claimed a right to annex, except by offering ten thousand florins for the town’s ransom. Poor in cash as he was in men, he had, however, no means to pay this ransom and begged aid in every direction. Moreover, he feared further aggressions from the cantons, which were growing more daring. What man in Europe was better able to teach them a lesson than Charles, the destroyer of Liege, the stern curber of undue liberty in Flanders? Was he not the very person to tame insolent Swiss cowherds?

In the course of the year 1468, Sigismund made known to Charles his desire for a bargain, intimating that in case of the duke’s refusal, he would carry his wares to Louis XI. At that moment, Charles was busied with Liege and showed no interest in Sigismund’s proposition. The latter tried to see Louis XI. personally in accordance with his imperial cousin’s advice that an interview might be more effective than a letter.

It did not prove a propitious time, however; Louis was deeply engaged with Burgundy and he was not disposed to take any steps that might estrange the Swiss and any espousal of Sigismund’s interests might alienate them. He did not even permit an opening to be made, but stopped Sigismund’s approach to him by a message that he would not for a moment entertain a suggestion inimical to those dear friends of his in the cantons a sentiment that quickly found its way to Switzerland.

Thus stayed in his effort to win Louis’s ear, Sigismund decided that he would make another essay towards a Burgundian alliance, this time face to face with the duke. On to Flanders he journeyed and found Charles in the midst of the ostentatious magnificence already described. Ordinary affairs of life were conducted with a splendour hardly attained by the emperor in the most pompous functions of his court. Sigismund was absolutely dazzled by the evidence of easy prosperity. The fact that a maiden was the duke’s sole heiress led the Austrian to conceive the not unnatural idea that this attractive Burgundian wealth might be turned into the impoverished imperial coffers by a marriage between Mary of Burgundy and Maximilian, the emperor’s son.

The visitor not only thought of this possibility, but he immediately broached it to Charles. The bait was swallowed. As to the main proposition which Sigismund had come expressly to make, that, too, was not rejected. The duke perceived that the transfer of the Rhenish lands to his jurisdiction might militate to his advantage. A passage would be opened towards the south for his troops without the need of demanding permission from any reluctant neighbour. The risk of trouble with the Swiss did not affect him when weighing the advantages of Sigismund’s proffer, a proffer which he finally decided to accept. Probably he found his guest a pleasant party to a bargain, for not only did he broach the tempting alliance between Mary and Maximilian, but he, too, seems to have hinted that the title of “King of the Romans” might be added to the long list of appellations already signed by Charles. As Sigismund was richer in kin, if not in coin, than the feeble Podiebrad, Charles gave serious heed to the suggestion which fell incidentally from his guest’s lips, in the course of the long conversations held at Bruges.

Certain precautions were taken to protect Charles from being dragged into Swiss complications against his will, and then in May, 1469, the treaty of St. Omer was signed, wherein the Duke of Burgundy accorded his protection to Sigismund of Austria and received from him all his seigniorial rights within certain specified territories.

The most important part of this cession comprised Upper Alsace and the county of Ferrette, but there were also many other fragments of territory and rights of seigniory involved, besides lordship over various Rhenish cities, such as Rheinfelden, Saeckingen, Lauffenburg, Waldshut and Brisac. This last named town commanded the route eastward, as Waldshut that to the southeast, and Thann the highway through the Vosges region.

Fifty thousand florins was the price for the property and the claims transferred from Sigismund to Charles. Ten thousand were to be paid at once, in order to ransom Waldshut from the Swiss. The remainder was due on September 24th. On his part, Sigismund specifically recognised the duke’s right to redeem all domains nominally his but mortgaged for the time being, certain estates or seignorial rights having been thus alienated for 150 years.

This territorial transfer was not a sale. It was a mortgage, but a mortgage with possession to the mortgagee and further restricted by the provision that there could be no redemption unless the mortgager could repay at Besancon the whole loan plus all the outlay made by the mortgagee up to that date. Instalment payments were expressly ruled out. The entire sum intact was made obligatory. Therefore the danger of speedy redemption did not disquiet Charles. He knew the man he had to deal with. Sigismund’s lack of foresight and his prodigality were notorious. There was faint chance that he could ever command the amount in question. Accordingly, Charles was fairly justified in counting the mortgaged territory as annexed to Burgundy in perpetuity.

Sigismund pocketed his florins eagerly. Nothing could have been more welcome to him. But this relief from the pressure of his pecuniary embarrassment did not inspire him with love for the man who held his lost lands. His sentiments towards Charles were very similar to those of an heir towards a usurer who has helped him in a temporary strait by mulcting him of his natural rights.

As for the emperor, when this transfer of territory was an accomplished fact, he began to take fright at the consequences. He did not like this intrusion of a powerful French peer into the imperial circle. At the same time he was ready to make him share responsibility in any further difficulties that might arise between Sigismund and the Swiss.

The least skilful of prophets could have foreseen difficulties for Charles on his own account, both foreign and domestic. His own relations with the Swiss had always been friendly enough, but he had never before been so near a neighbour, while, within the Rhine lands, it was an open question whether the bartered inhabitants were to enjoy or regret their new tie with Burgundy. The importance of their sentiments was a matter of as supreme indifference to Charles as was danger from the Confederation. Neither conciliation nor diplomacy was in his thoughts. He had no conception of the intricacies of the situation. He counted the landgraviate as definitely his by the treaty of St. Omer as Brabant by heritage or Liege by conquest.

The need of a kindly policy towards the little valley towns a policy that might have won their allegiance never occurred to him. They were his property and Peter von Hagenbach was, in course of time, made lieutenant-governor in his behalf.

Apart from all personal considerations of enmity and amity of natives and neighbours, the territory of Upper Alsace and the county of Ferrette, delivered from needy Austria to rich Burgundy, like a coat pawned by a poor student, was held under very complex and singular conditions. The status of the bargain between Sigismund and Charles was in point of fact something between pawn and sale, according to the point of view. Sigismund fully intended to redeem it, while Charles did not admit that possibility as remotely contingent. Nor was that the only peculiarity. The itemised list of the ceded territories as given in the treaty was far from telling the facts of the possessions passing to Sigismund’s proxy.

In the first place the Austrian seigniories were not compact. They were scattered here and there in the midst of lands ruled by others, as the Bishop of Strasburg, the Abbe of St. Blaise in the Black Forest, the count Palatine, the citizens of Basel and of Mulhouse, and others.

The existent variety in the extent and nature of Austrian title was extraordinary. Nearly every possible combination of dismembered prerogative and actual tenure had resulted from the long series of ducal compositions. In some localities a toll or a quit-rent was the sole cession, and again a toll or a prerogative was almost the only residue remaining to the ostensible overlord, while all his former property or transferable birthright privileges were lodged in various hands on divers tenures. There were cases in which the mortgagee noble, burgher, or municipal corporation had taken the exact place of the Austrian duke and in so doing had become the vassal of his debtor, stripped of all vested interest but his sovereignty. For in these bargains wherein elements of the Roman contract and feudal customs were curiously blended, two classes of rights had been invariably reserved by the ducal mortgagers:

(1) Monopolies, regal in nature, such as assured free circulation on the highways, the old Roman roads, all jurisdiction of passports and travellers’ protection.

(2) The suzerainty. This comprised the power to confer fiefs, of requisition of military service, of requesting aids and admission to strongholds, cities, or castles, lé droit de forteresse jurable et rendable.

In these regards the compact between Charles and Sigismund differed from all previous covenants not only in degree, but in kind. The Duke of Burgundy entered into the sovereign as well as into the mangled, maimed, and curtailed proprietary rights of the hereditary over-lord.

In his assumption of this involved and doubtful property, Charles laid heavy responsibilities on his shoulders. The actual price of fifty thousand gold florins paid to Sigismund was a mere fraction of the pecuniary obligations incurred, while the weight of care was difficult to gauge. He succeeded to princes weak, frivolous, prodigal, whose misrule had long been a curse to the land. The incursions of the Swiss, the repeated descents of the Rhine nobles from their crag-lodged strongholds to pillage and destroy, terrified merchants and plunged peaceful labourers into misery.

Through hatred of the absentee Austrians, the neighbouring cities repeatedly became the accomplices of these brigands, affording them asylums for refitting and free passage when they were laden with evident booty.

In all departments of finance and administration disorder prevailed. The chief officials, castellans and councillors, enjoyed high salaries for neglected duties. The castles were in wretched repair and there were insufficient troops to guard the roads. There was no dependence upon the receipts nominally to be expected. In the sub-mortgaged lands, the lords simply levied what they could, without the slightest responsibility for the order of the domain; they did not hesitate to charge their suzerain for repairs never made, confident that no one would verify their declaration.

In the territories of the immediate domain, the Austrian dukes and their officials had no notion of the rigid system maintained in Burgundy. Only here and there can little memoranda be found and these are confused and obscure. There is a dearth of accurate records like those voluminous registers of outlays kept by Burgundian receivers, registers so rich in detail that they are more valuable for the historian than any chronicle.

Exact appraisal of the resources of these pays de par de la was very difficult. Between 1469 and 1473 there were three efforts to obtain reliable information by means of as many successive commissions despatched to the Rhine valley by the Duke of Burgundy.

Envoys drew up minutes of their observations in addition to their official reports and all were preserved in the archives. As these were written from testimony gathered on the spot, such as the accounts of the receivers now lost, etc., there is real value in the documents.

The first commission in behalf of Burgundy was composed of two Germans and three Walloons. One of the former was Peter von Hagenbach, who won no enviable reputation in the later exercise of his office as lieutenant-governor of the annexed region, to which he was shortly afterwards appointed. This first commission entered into formal possession in Charles’s name and instituted some desired reforms immediately, such as policing the highways, etc.

The second commission made its visit in 1471. It consisted of Jean Pellet, treasurer of Vesoul, and Jean Poinsot, procureur-general of Amont.

The third commission (1473) was under the auspices of Monseigneur Coutault, master of accounts at Dijon. He carried with him the report of his predecessors and made his additions thereto.

Charles’s directions to Poinsot and Pellet (June 13, 1471) were vague and general. They were “to see the conduct of his affairs” (voir la conduite de ses affaires). The important point was to find out how much revenue could be obtained. As the duke’s plan of expansion grew larger he had need of all his resources.

The reports were eminently discouraging. Outlay was needed everywhere income was small. As the chances of peculation diminished, the castellans deserted their posts and left the castles to decay. The Burgundian commission of 1471 found the difficulties of their exploration increased by two items. Charles had not advanced an allowance for their expenses and they were anxious to be back at Vesoul by Michaelmas, the date of the change in municipal offices and of appropriations for the year. It was in hopes of receiving advance moneys that they delayed in starting, but the approaching election and coming winter finally decided them to set out, pay their own expenses, and complete the business as rapidly as they could in a fortnight.

The summary of this report of 1471 was that there was little present prospect that Charles would be able to reimburse himself for his necessary expenses. An undue portion of authority and of revenue was legally lodged in alien hands. Charles was possessed of germs of rights rather than of actual rights. The earlier creditors of Austria held all the best mortgages with their attendant emoluments. The immediate profits accruing to the Duke of Burgundy fell far short of the minimum necessary to disburse to keep his government, his strongholds, his highways in repair. Very disturbed were the good treasurer of Vesoul and the procureur-general of Amont at this state of affairs, and distressed at the prospect of the ampler receipts from Burgundy being required to relieve the pressing necessities of the poor territories de par de la.

To avoid this contingency, the commissioners recommended the duke to redeem all the existing mortgages great and small. It would cost 140,000 florins, but the revenue would at once increase with the new security which would immediately follow under firm Burgundian rule. Sole master, Charles could then enforce obedience from nobles and cities and better conditions would be inaugurated.

Evidently this rational advice was not taken, for it is repeated by Coutault in 1473. Redemption of the mortgages, “if your affairs can afford it,” is the counsel given by the chamber of accounts at Dijon, though this sage board adds that they were well aware that in the previous month Monseigneur could not put his hands on a hundred florins to redeem one wretched little gagerie. The native coffers of the region did not suffice to settle the salaries of the officers in charge.

Such then was the new acquisition of Charles after four years of his administration. Peter von Hagenbach, his deputy in charge of this unremunerative territory, is a character painted in the darkest colours by all historians. It is more than probable that his unpopular efforts to make bricks without straw were largely responsible for his unenviable reputation. Ground between the upper and lower millstones of Charles’s clamours for revenues and popular clamours that the people had nothing wherewith to pay, Hagenbach developed into a taskmaster of the hardest and most unpitying type, who made himself thoroughly hated by the people he was set to rule.

It must be remembered that there was no cleft in nationality or in language between governor and governed. He was not a foreigner set over them. He was one of them raised to a high position. There was then no French element in Lower Alsace. It was then German pure and simple.