Episode 28: The Strained Reins of a Waning Reign
In the final decade of his reign, Philip the Good was obsessed with the idea of a crusade against the Ottoman Turks. The complexities of the diverse state that he had built, however, would never allow him to fulfill this dream, as he would continually be distracted by local issues. Although Philip had been released from his personal vassalage to the French King, France still remained a threat to stability in Burgundy; the two men’s status as ‘frenemies’ was solidified when Charles VII’s son, the dauphin Louis, was given refuge at the Burgundian court. Philip’s heir, Charles, Count of Charolais, had major father issues of his own after their argument which had ended with Philip lost in the forest in Belgium. Despite the birth of his daughter, Mary, Charles became estranged from not only his father, but also the fine-workings of central governance. He retreated to Holland to worry about whether he would ever, indeed, actually receive his inheritance. When the dauphin Louis ascended to the throne in France, a sequence of events was set in motion which threatened to permanently splinter the Burgundian realm. But before this could happen, the Estates of the Burgundian Netherlands took the small step of organising a meeting on their own accord in order to secure Charles’s inheritance and force a reconciliation between the aging and deteriorating duke and his ambitious and aggressive son. And in so doing, the Estates General of the Netherlands had taken one giant leap onto centre stage of lowlander politics.
The French-Burgundian Cold War
It is important to remember that although France and Burgundy had officially, on paper, ended hostilities with the Treaty of Arras in 1435, the French king Charles VII and his cousin Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy, had remained locked in a Cold war, always trying to diplomatically undercut, outmanoeuvre and thwart each other’s strategic positions.
It was a great boon for Philip when Charles VII’s son and heir, the dauphin Louis, had arrived seeking protection from his father. Philip gave great attention to the desires of the dauphin, always showing him deference and trying to build a relationship that would serve his own interests in the future. The chroniclers explain in detail the almost absurd lengths Philip would go to to show proper courtesy towards his unexpected guest, with Richard Vaughan describing his behaviour towards him as “obsequious servility”. Surely when Louis did become king, Philip’s hospitality would pay dividends.
Charles VII’s focus on Burgundian territory landed on those towns of the Somme, which Philip had acquired by mortgage from him in 1435; and on Luxembourg which, although Imperial territory, was exposed to French influence due to its proximity. As you will remember, although Philip controlled Luxembourg, there were about fifty million dudes calling themselves Duke of Luxembourg. Charles VII paid one of these, the Duke of Saxony, half an agreed amount for claim of the title. So now there were fifty million and one Dukes of Luxembourg. Despite sending small contingents of troops into the territory, Charles VII was just posturing, and Philip managed to maintain his hold on power there. Philip definitely felt threatened, however, and decided to shore up his position by making another Joyous Entry into Ghent in 1458. Although he had forced submission on the rebellious city five years earlier, he was still wary of their loyalty towards him so made this second Joyous Entry to try and safeguard against any possible overtures Charles VII might make their way.
The Burgundian and French heirs’ daddy issues
Things were not as bad between the Burgundian duke and son as they were between the French king and dauphin. Charles still sought to serve Philip faithfully. It is pretty difficult to assess emotional parental baggage from six centuries distance, but it has been argued that the greatest difference between the two cases is that Charles actually felt a great love and loyalty to Philip, and was genuinely wounded by the anger and bitterness that Philip had shrouded him with in the matter of the Croys. The dauphin, Louis, on the other hand, did not have much of a personal relationship or emotional attachment with his father.
As for the two sons, the dauphin and Charles were not huge fans of one another, despite the dauphin being Charles’ daughter’s godfather. I imagine it would have been pretty much like when your parents make you hang out with some other kid you didn’t really like. Charles would visit Louis, but it seems to have been contrived as a show of deference and respect to the position of dauphin, as opposed to the actual person who held that position, Louis. Once, when Charles took Louis hunting, he lost contact with him during the hunt and returned home alone, resulting in a good finger-wagging from the Duke for failing his duty. Such disappointment would have impacted Charles who, although impulsive and quick to anger, had the strong sense of duty and honour one would expect from someone who had been made part of the most exclusive chivalric order at the tender age of 20 days old.
So during the years that Philip was fawning on the exile Louis, Charles spent his time in Le Quesnoy, in Hainaut, with his wife and daughter, and in Holland. His feelings towards his father seem to have ranged between contempt and concern, often taking policy positions that were opposed to him. Blockmans and Prevenier suggest that during this period in which he was neglected of guidance to prepare him for his future rule, he formed the habit of looking at things in a binary fashion, and forsook the nuances which his father had been so apt at navigating. Charles’ beef with the Croy family did not abate during his absence from the Burgundian court, but instead was carried with him into Holland, where one of their nephews, Jehan de Lannoy, was the stadhouder. During his time in Holland Charles took possession of numerous territories, some of which had been formerly promised to de Lannoy but which he now found stripped away from him. Most important among these was Gorinchem. Charles’ presence in Holland meant that a new top-dog was in town, so local power brokers, especially Jehan de Lannoy, found their influence eroded if they were not in the Count’s good books.
Death of Charles VII
Charles VII died on July 22, 1461 and Philip the Good, alongside a great many people went to meet Louis in Avesnes to escort him to his coronation in Reims. Louis, for his part, resumed his attitude of humility and appreciation for the support he was receiving. According to Chastellaine, throughout the whole process it was Philip who shone as the great prince. This moment has even been suggested to be the proudest in his life, as he sat poised to wield significant influence over the fortunes of France, much in the fashion that his grandfather Philip the Bold had done eight decades prior.
For his part, Louis was happy to promote the image of a pauper king. Philip remained in Paris with him for six weeks after the coronation, probably waiting to be officially made the right-hand man. His fancy attire would have struck quite the difference with the new monarch who walked around in simple clothes with a pilgrim hat on. He shunned splendour and haughtiness, often dining in taverns and halls with commoners. The 19th century French historian Ernest Lavisse relayed the story that when the Duke and King rode into a town, people were heard to exclaim ‘Is that the king of France? All together his horse and dress are not worth twenty francs!’ The extravagant characteristics of Burgundian court culture were largely absent from the court of a new, miserly French king who supped with peasants and rarely stayed in one place. The contemporary French poet, Martial d’Auvergne, wrote of Louis XI coming to power:
“Farewell dames, citizens, demoiselles, feasts, dances, jousts, and tournaments; farewell fair and gracious maids, mundane pleasures, joys, and games”.
Now that he was king, however, Louis XI’s true colours would come through. He did not name anybody to the position of his main advisor and rather took advice from whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted. His idea of a royal court was extremely different to his predecessors and from Philip’s. Richard Vaughn even reckoned that:
‘In the long term, Louis’s aim was no less than the total demolition of the Burgundian state. In the short term, his plans were the same as those of Charles VII: to maintain and encourage a group of pro-French councillors at the Burgundian court, to develop an anti-Burgundian system of alliances and, above all, to regain possession of the Somme towns.’
Further problems between Charles and Philip
Philip the Good’s life had certainly entered a new, final phase. He was 65 years old and physically less able than ever before. Charles must have thought that if he was indeed to be his father’s heir, true reconciliation had to be forthcoming soon. To Charles, however, the Croys and their allies were taking advantage of his father’s weakened state and, in 1462 a rather bizarre episode exhibited either the level of threat they posed to him or the level of his paranoia. One of Philip’s chamberlains, called Jehan Coustain, was at the Brussels court in July when he was suddenly arrested on the orders of Charles and, along with a supposed accomplice, taken off to a place called Rupelmonde, about 30km north and promptly executed.
The charge was that Coustain and his accomplice had attempted to poison Charles. Don’t you love medieval, feudal justice? Coustain had secured his position in the court thanks to the Croys, and is supposed to have enjoyed a position of trust within the ranks. It is completely unknown whether he actually was trying to poison Charles, or whether Charles fabricated the accusation in order to take a jab at the Croys. It has also been pointed out that Coustain may have just been the victim of violent politicking; that someone else entirely who held a grudge against him, or with eyes on his position, directed rumours in Charles' direction which would have exacerbated his preexisting spite for all things Croy.
Charles’ actions in this matter were not healthy for his relationship with Philip and would have struck a fair amount of fear in the Croys. If they were manipulating the Duke against him, as he was convinced they had been, then he had just given them reason to work even harder at excluding him completely. They and their allies knew now that if and when Charles did become Duke, they would need to flee for their lives. Around the same time as this happened, Philip appointed Charles as his representative in Holland.
Although on the surface this might seem like a normal move towards his eventual succession, it was more likely an attempt by Philip to get his son back to the swamplands and out of the central governing sphere, following the Coustain affair. Charles, however, took the occasion whilst in Holland to have Jehan de Lannoy removed as stadhouder, replaced by one of his own men, Lodewijk van Gruuthouse, as well having the Estates of Holland formally recognize him as Philip’s heir. On top of this, the Estates of Holland also let it be known that they wanted the other Burgundian lands to recognize Charles’ position as rightful heir too. Philip was none-too-happy about this, cutting off Charles’s income, only to have the states of Holland grant him a hefty annual subsidy for a period of 10 years.
Philip gives up Somme towns
In 1463, Philip urged on by the Croys, agreed to return of the Somme and Perone towns, which he had acquired via the Treaty of Arras over three decades prior, to French possession. These were strategically important defensive towns that guarded the southern entrance into the low countries against French incursion but which also provided great manpower for Burgundian forces - such as the Picards - as well as other resources and tax wealth. The mortgaging of these towns to Philip in the Treaty of Arras had been one of its central and most sensational tenets and they could only be redeemed for a huge amount of cash.
Map made by David Cenzer.
People have argued ever since why exactly Philip actually went through with this deal. Perhaps he thought that by giving these towns back to France, he was displaying an act of good faith towards the French king which would pay off politically later on. Or, perhaps he was still so obsessed with the idea of a crusade that he was willing to sacrifice the towns for the French support it would engender and the fabulous resources he could now purchase with this cash injection. What is known for sure, however, is that it was on the advice of the Croy brothers Jehan and Anthoine, both of whom were actively promoting Louis XI’s interests, that Philip agreed to the deal. Louis gave Philip a nominal sum and convinced him that the rest of the payment was coming. Goodbye Somme and Perone towns, you are now French.
When Charles heard about this, he was absolutely, and understandably, infuriated. An important part of his inheritance had been handed over to Louis XI without him having any say in the matter. And to rub salt in the wound, the people who he was certain had tried to have him murdered just a year earlier had been the ones to convince Philip that this was the right move. Charles believed there was a serious possibility now that his father would either disinherit him completely, or give most of his lands away to other people, and decided that he had to act quickly. So off Charles went to Lille to ask the serious question: ‘what the actual…?’
There are rumours that Charles asked if he could assume rule in Holland. In October of 1463 a Saxon diplomat Peter Knorre, wrote:
“...a good friend tells me that the lord of Charolais asked his father recently at Bruges if he might not be permitted to make do with the land of Holland instead of the annual rents his father allowed him. The duke denied him this, and said that he would remain ruler as long as he lived and was most unwilling to share with anyone. Since then Charolais has fled with his wife to Holland, where the towns have received him with much honour.”
Things reached boiling point in December 1463 when word started spreading that Philip had decided that he was finally going to go on the crusade which he had spent almost a decade planning, and that, in his absence, he was going to give control of Holland and Zeeland to Edward IV of England, and the rest of his lands to Jehan de Croy. Charles could not accept this. Immediately, he went to the Estates of Holland, railing against the bad advice that his father was clearly receiving from his councilors
The Estates General meet on their own accord in January 1464
The instability of this political situation clearly worried the Estates of Holland, who at this point decided that the clash between father and son had to be resolved immediately before it exploded in all of their faces, so wrote to their counterparts in Flanders and Brabant calling for a meeting between them all to figure the whole situation out. This was an extraordinary moment, as previously the Estates of the Burgundian Netherlands had been called together by the Duke himself, not on their own accord. Also, whereas before they had met in order to discuss mostly financial matters, such as the introduction of the vierlander currency, here they were plunging themselves headfirst into probably the most fundamental working of the state, the question of who was to be their sovereign. When the towns of Brabant and Flanders agreed to the proposed meeting, both Charles and Philip sent out their own letters to the Estates asking them to meet, because, you know, if they’re going to do it anyway, may as well make it look like actually it was all your idea in the first place.
There’s a great letter Philip wrote to the towns of Holland which sums up his acerbic feelings towards them at this point: “we are greatly marvelling how the inhabitants of our towns of Holland dare to be so presumptuous as to assemble on their own authority and to desire our subjects to assemble, seeing that it is by no means up to them to do this in our province of Holland, nor in Flanders, nor anywhere else; but that this right belongs to us, as your prince and lord and to no one else…it seems to us, moreover, that you must think us very simple or ignorant to imagine that we would leave this country without providing for its government”.
In other words: “how dare you do what I was about to do, and only I can do!” says the man who had zero intention of ever doing that.
In January and February of 1464 the Estates General of the Burgundian Netherlands were assembled and major efforts were made to reconcile father and son and to bring certainty to the future of Burgundian rule. Charles used this as an opportunity to start taking the reins of reign from Philip. The chronicler Jacques Duclerq wrote of Charles speaking before the Estates General, in which he once more outlined his suspicions of Croy activity and fully set about laying a case for their expulsion and/or punishment. Every time Charles had previously spoken out about the Croys, his father had shut him down. This time, however, perhaps feeling a bit over the whole thing; perhaps a bit embarrassed by his so easily having given up the Somme towns; and perhaps still thinking of his crusading prospects and how the weight of his responsibilities was denying them being realised, Philip remained relatively amicable with Charles. The Estates continually took the lead, sending deputies to both parties and, amazingly in our view, persuaded father and son to reconcile their differences.
Maybe the magnanimity which Philip had often shown throughout his career; which he had invoked in forgiving and moving past revolts and actions that had been taken against him, was brought to bear by the old Duke one last time by showing pragmatic forgiveness to his son. More likely the old fella just could not stop thinking about a crusade. When the Estates of his provinces were next called together in March, 1464, this time actually at the initiative of Philip himself, it was to to talk about goin’ a crusadin’.
After this extraordinary meeting of the Estates of the Burgundian Netherlands at the beginning of 1464, the rift between Charles and Philip was over and by June of that year the two were back on track to keep the rule of Valois-Burgundian Dukes going strong into the future…. (spoiler: it won’t actually last).
Philip the Good’s life and reign was coming to an end, and from this moment on Charles would take centre stage and begin ruling in the place of his aging and ailing father. As Charles the Bold took the reins of government, he finally got the opportunity to do what he had been angling for for years, and expelled the Croys and the pro-French factions in the Burgundian court. Jehan Croy fled to his new master, Louis XI, and France and Burgundy would find themselves once again on a collision course. In the next episode we will see that, while their fathers had been happy to dance around each other ominously and behind each other’s backs, Charles the Bold and Louis XI were much more inclined towards open hostilities on the battlefield. The cold war between France and Burgundy was over and, as a result, the towns of Dinant and Liege in particularly were going to get very hot indeed…
Sources
The Promised Lands by Wim Blockmans and Walter Prevenier
A Brief History of the Netherlands by Paul F. State
A Concise History of the Netherlands by James C. Kennedy
Magnanimous Dukes and Rising States by Robert Stein
Charles the Bold: Last Duke of Burgundy 1433-1477 by Ruth Putnam
Philip the Good (Apogee of burgundy) by Richard Vaughan
Charles the Bold, the Last Duke of Burgundy by Ruth Putnam
Chronique des ducs de Bourgogne by Georges Chastellaine
The Chronicles of Monstrelet
Linking Court and Counties by Mario Damen
The Memoirs of Philip de Comines: Volume 1 By Philippe de Commynes
Monarchies, States Generals and Parliaments: The Netherlands in the 15th and 16th Centuries by H. G. Koenigsberger