Episode 42: Philip Cleaves, Maximilian Leaves
On May 16, 1488, Maximilian of Habsburg secured his release after more than three months of involuntary isolation in Bruges when he agreed to the so-called “Peace of Bruges”. In this treaty, he was essentially forced by the rebellious cities of Flanders to agree to a bunch of terms and conditions which stripped him of sovereignty over that territory. All by his own free will, of course. Hostages were taken by Bruges in exchange for Maximilian to make sure that he stayed true to his word. These included, most importantly, Philip of Cleves, who made a great, solemn and public oath, in which he swore to defend the Flemish cities against anybody who would break the peace, meaning, Maximilian. Well, within two weeks, this peace had been broken, and Philip of Cleves found himself leading an army of aggrieved Flems against an equally aggrieved imperial army. After a string of initial successes, including withstanding a siege by the imperial army at Ghent and Maximilian’s departure from the Low Countries to go and deal with problems in Austria, things were looking up for the Flemish. But, in July 1489, some shrewd international politicking, saw Maximilian definitively cut the Flemish off from the succour of their most important ally, Charles VIII, the King of France. The Flemish and Philip of Cleves, would be left to withstand the wrath of the empire, together alone while Maximilian would finish up his direct rule of the realm in much the same manner as it had begun, in utter turmoil.
Philip of Cleves
Depending on which sources you believe, Philip was either born in Le Quesnoy, Hainaut, or in Brussels, in Brabant, in 1456. He was the only child who grew to maturity between Adolf of Cleves and Beatrice of Coimbra. We’re already very familiar with Adolf of Cleves. Being a grandson of John the Fearless, he was a direct blood relative to the ruling Burgundian clan. Beatrice of Coimbra, however, was also somewhat connected to the ruling family, being a niece of Isabella of Portugal, Charles the Bold’s mother. Beatrice had fled to Burgundy to live in exile after her father’s unsuccessful (alleged) rebellion against the King of Portugal. She died in 1462, when Philip was still just a child. A few years later, Adolf remarried Anne of Burgundy, one of Philip the Good’s many illegitimate children. The point of all of this is to show that through his father, mother and then step-mother, there were all sorts of interconnected relationships between Philip of Cleves and the Burgundian dynasty. They were all one big happy, incestual family.
Philip of Cleves spent quite a lot of time during his childhood with Mary of Burgundy. After Mary’s mother, Isabella of Bourbon, died in 1465, one of the women responsible for educating her was Anne of Burgundy. It is suspected that Philip of Cleves, who had also lost his mother at a young age, would also have grown up under the supervision of Anne of Burgundy. In his biography of Philip of Cleves, historian A de Fouw, states that the two had an “excellent relationship”, which is lucky, considering she became his step-mother when she married Adolf in 1470. The young, future Duchess of Burgundy, Mary, was regularly at Wijnendale Castle, in West Flanders, where the Duke of Ravenstein and his family would sometimes live. Although there is a severe lack of information available about this period of both Mary and Philip’s lives, it is not too great a stretch to imagine that, being around the same age as each other, the two noble youngsters would have hung out with each other at Wijnendale and been as close as, well, family. By October 1471, Philip was getting paid a retainer as part of Charles the Bold’s court, and he accompanied Mary and Margaret of York while they made a grand entrance to the town of Bergen.
In the aftermath of Charles’ death, both Adolf and Philip of Cleves played important roles in keeping the Burgundian regime in place in the Low Countries. Philip was given the task by his father of whipping up the support of every noble he could and mobilising as many troops as possible to defend the southern territories, particularly Hainaut, from the immediate French invasion. By July of 1477 he was being addressed in letters as the lieutenant-general of Hainaut and he played an instrumental role in the defence of many of the major towns. When moves were being made to marry Mary off to basically every eligible bachelor in Europe, one such attempt was by Adolf of Cleves, who tried to get her to marry Philip. This is when we first encountered him in our story, back in episode 37. Whether or not there was any real animo behind this on Adolf’s behalf is unclear, but Philippe de Commynes writes of it “The duke of Cleves was ... trying all arts which he thought might contribute to the marriage between the princess and his son , but she had no inclination to that ; for the humour of the young gentleman neither pleased her nor any person about her court”. So, with his displeasing humour, Philip’s hand was rejected in favour of Maximilian’s. There doesn’t seem to have been any bitterness about this from Philip, however, because after Maximilian’s arrival in the Low Countries and marriage to Mary, Philip continued serving the court and the new Austrian prince. In October, 1477, he was given command of the area around Lille, Douai and Orchies.
Philip would find himself in the thick of the military action between France and Burgundy in this tumultuous period. He didn’t always cover himself in glory, however. At the Battle of Guinegate, for example, when the wing of cavalry he was commanding was charged by the more numerous French cavalry, his horse bolted and both rider and horse fell. In his biography of Philip of Cleves, de Fouw says that Maximilian even saw this happen and was certain that Philip had perished. Other than some damage to his armour and pride, however, Philip was okay. Unfortunately for him, when he got back on his horse he became disoriented due to the fall and he found himself with some of his men cut off from the rest of the Burgundian army. Completely outnumbered, and being pursued by French troops, they had no choice but to make a hasty escape. Although this led to later accusations that Philip had deserted the battle, when he returned to the Burgundian army the next day, Maximilian was overjoyed to discover that he had, in fact, survived. Despite this blemish, however, Philip would continue commanding armies for Maximilian in the south, playing an important role in the removal of the Wild Boar of the Ardennes, Willem de la Marck, from Liège.
All of this military service, combined with his connections to the Burgundian bloodline, so greatly added to his prestige that during the first Flemish revolt against Maximilian, the Flemish cities appealed to Philip of Cleves, alongside Anthony, the Bastard of Burgundy, to arbitrate between themselves and the archduke. As princes-of-the-blood, that is to say, nobles directly related to the Burgundian clan, they were seen as more likely to defend young Duke Philip’s interests over that of Maximilian. As a reward for his military service, Maximilian appointed Phlip as the Admiral of the Netherlands, gave him command of the critical port town of Sluis, and also put him in charge of the Council of Finance, which had total control of the Burgundian state’s finances. Although Philip remained loyal to Maximilian, he was also sympathetic to the cities. You may recall that, at the conclusion of the first revolt, it was Philip who, alongside Margaret of York, helped persuade Maximilian not to burn Ghent to the ground. He had watched Maximilian make a string of bad decisions which had devastated the Flemish economy, and had advised Maximilian against going to Bruges, recommending that he instead hold the meeting of the States General at Sluis. You have to imagine that after hearing that Maximilian had been taken hostage in Bruges, Philip had firmly planted his face in his palm. When the Peace of Bruges was arranged, Philip took Maximilian’s place inside Bruges. Philip had, until this point, loyally served Maximilian throughout everything. Surely, when he heard Maximilian swear to uphold the Peace of Bruges, he believed that he intended to keep his word. Still, upon arrival in Bruges, as we recounted at the end of the previous episode, Philip also swore an oath, this one in front of a big assembly of people, proclaiming that he would defend Flanders against anyone who broke the peace.
F#*king oath!
As Philip was swearing this oath, Maximilian was setting off for his father’s imperial court, which was then being held in Leuven. The emperor Frederick III was nearing the end of his life and reign; in 1488 he turned 73 years old, and at the time of his son’s forced vacation in Bruges celebrated his 36th anniversary as the Emperor. Contemporary critics labelled him as somewhat apathetic; a slow-to-action ruler, even giving him the nickname Erzschlafmütze, pretty much meaning something like ‘Arch sleepy-head’. We are not here to judge the rule of Frederick, but suffice it to say that he had a lot on his plate. His son being held prisoner by a bunch of uppity Flems had been the latest in a long line of problems besetting him, none more significant than that most of his Austrian lands had been occupied by the King of Hungary, Matthias Corvinus. In favour of viewing him as an actually pretty astute ruler, it is worth pointing out that he did a couple of things which look pretty effective in hindsight. When he had arranged with Charles the Bold for his son to marry Mary and into the Burgundian realm, he achieved something that would have a massive impact on western European history for generations to come. Historian Benjamin Curtis wrote of this that “Without weakening its anchor in Austria...the Burgundian lands did draw the Habsburgs more deeply into the political orbit of France and England than ever before. Indeed, conflicts between France and the Habsburgs would convulse Europe for the next two and a half centuries.”
Likewise, when Frederick had tidily arranged for Maximilian to be elected to the Roman throne in 1486, and therefore set him up to become emperor after Frederick’s time had passed, he put an energetic, young leader of the future in front of the powerful bunch of German princes - the electors -who really held power in the empire. Maximilian’s profile was more likely to inspire the mobilisation of their troops than Frederick ever had. It did not matter that Maximilian wasn’t that great at meeting any of the political and military demands that were his due. He looked the part, and that was enough. When Maximilian was holed up in the Cranenburgh in Bruges for three months, he sent letters to his father that would have put great fear into Frederick’s heart and made him agonise over whether the son in whom he had invested the future prospects of his dynasty, realm and titles would actually survive this Flemish revolt. In one example, Maximilian wrote:
“I estimate that without money to run my own administration and protect the life of my son (Philip the Fair), I must surrender him and swallow my anger, for otherwise they will give me poison to eat and kill me… This is my last letter, once and for all.” That’s pretty dramatic. But whether assassination was a real a possibility or not in this case, the threat certainly served to compel his father to take whatever action was required to free his son and heir.
So with Maximilian freed from Bruges on May 16, this meant that Frederick was just going to pack up and leave, right? Well, no. Because, even though it was Bruges who had physically imprisoned Maximilian, everyone was well aware who actually wore the pants in the relationship between the Three Members of Flanders and who was calling the shots in this phase of the Flemish revolt. Ghent.
After Maximilian was released, Philip of Cleves immediately departed Bruges and made his way to Ghent, where the Peace of Bruges was publicly announced on the 21st of May, 1488 in front of the States of Flanders. The magistracy of Ghent was once more in the hands of Jan Coppenhole, who was throwing his weight all around Flanders, as well as encroaching upon the estates of Brabantine cities such as Brussels, trying to stir up opposition to the ducal government. He had the Three Members on the same page in this matter, largely because opponents to the revolt in those cities had been executed, imprisoned or exiled. From his point of view, the Peace of Bruges was now a matter of fact: Flanders, thereafter, was under the sovereignty of the ten-year old archduke Philip the Fair, and a regency council that contained permanent representatives from the three big cities would assist him in ruling until he came of age. This included various figures from the last revolutionary regency council, such as Philip of Burgundy, the Lord of Beveren, Louis of Gruuthuse, who had managed to get out of prison and back to Bruges, and Adrien Villain, the Lord of Rasseghem. Philip of Cleves, of course, was put at the head of this regency council, was appointed as the young Duke’s stadhouder of Flanders and swore an oath of loyalty to the States of Flanders. The States of Flanders were extremely concerned about the fact that a German army under the command of the emperor was hovering around so close to them. In a gesture of good will towards Maximilian, they even allowed two of the German princes who had been taken in exchange for him to be released. They would not budge on the rest of points of the peace treaty however.
The biggest problem was that just because Maximilian had secured his freedom by selling off his right to rule in Flanders, this didn’t mean that Frederick, as emperor, was under any obligation to honour it. He had already gone to great pains and used a fair bit of his political capital to raise this army to take into Brabant, intent on taking down the Flemish and freeing his son. It only made sense that he go and make those incalcitrant Flems and, in particular the city of Ghent, pay for the dishonour they had exhibited to the imperial family. Furthermore, and probably more to the point, from Frederick III’s point of view, if he were to allow the Peace of Bruges to stand, then he would be compounding the loss-of-face he had incurred by being denied his ancestral lands, and risking the imperium of his dynasty in the Empire itself. Historian Jelle Haemers puts it: “Relinquishing the regency over Philip the Fair was...not an option for Frederick III. The stalemate was complete; an armed encounter inevitable”
All of this, then, also put Maximilian in a pretty awkward position. He had made an oath at Bruges to respect the peace treaty which they had all agreed to. But likewise, when he had become the King of the Romans, he had sworn to always defend the imperial majesty. Maximilian had tangled himself up in a mess of competing promises and those promises were now pulling in opposite directions, threatening to tear his fragile feudal honour to shreds.
Maximilian’s intent & an imperial army in tents
The exact chronology and construction of the events that unfolded thereafter are difficult to consolidate, since the chronicles that cover it are pretty biased, either from the Flemish-chroniclers, who were on the side of the rebels, or the ducal side, as with Molinet and Olivier de la Marche. Rather than the exact order of events that unfolded, what has been greatly discussed and debated is the matter of blame; on whose shoulders should the fault fall, for the four years of civil war that would follow the signing of the Peace of Bruges? Several competing elements serve to muddy waters that were already extremely murky. The Great Privilege of 1477 had elevated the States General into a social and political role of mediation that could not, now be undone. They had taken up the challenge of negotiating the Peace of Bruges, keeping in mind how much influence the Flemish representatives had managed to wield within the wider body of the States General. The actual ruler of Burgundy - the prins naturel - Philip the Fair, was still a boy, and now guided by ducal and imperial advisors who protected the interests of his father, Maximilian. Under this umbrella, he had actually stripped the States General of the right to sign a peace without the consent of his grandfather, the emperor. However, the message conveying this order had arrived one day too late, to prevent the States General from doing so. Oh for the ability to just send an email, and not just rely on a horse!
For what it is worth, several sources paint the picture that Maximilian really did try to convince his father to uphold the peace, including Olivier de la Marche and correspondence between officials in Ghent, Bruges and Ypres. One contemporary German writer, Joseph Gruenpeck, who would later compile a history of Frederick and Maximilian, reckoned that Maximilian made a speech to the Brugeois, immediately following the Peace of Bruges. According to him, Max said:
“You Brugians have forced me to make a peace, which is made according to your will; I have promised to keep it, on conditions, and I shall keep it for so far as I am able. But I believe that my father, the imperial majesty, will not confirm it. He stands in Brabant right now with a mighty army; for that reason I advise you to take all care to reconcile with him.”
That is a pretty convenient speech to be put into Max’s mouth, but it really is difficult to determine what Maximilian’s intentions were when he put quill to parchment in ratifying the terms of his release. It is fairly obvious that he was under a fair bit of duress when he made the agreement, having been locked up for months, watching his advisors be beheaded in front of him, wondering if he would be next. He may well have known that his father would never let the agreement stand and there is a fair bit of correspondence that can be seen as reflective of Frederick’s contempt for the gumption of the Flemish, and his absolute intention to make them pay. In a letter to the Duke of Bavaria, he called it a “Gross act of inhumanity” and that they must unite to take retribution on such an arrogant regime that would dare cause the empire such abuse and harm.
As Joey Spijkers puts it, “June seemed national letter writing month, and we have correspondence from Philip of Cleves to Maximilian, Frederick, the king of Portugal, and Christoph of Bavaria, as well as letters of reply from the king of the Romans. The emperor had written to Ghent that he demanded obedience for the parts of the county that were held as an imperial fief. Maximilian justified this to Philip of Cleves, pointing out once more that the emperor's war had nothing to do with the 16 May peace, but was a matter between the cities of Bruges and Ghent and the respect they were due their sovereign and the Holy Roman Empire.”
Just as we can only speculate on whether Max knew what his father’s reaction would be, we can also only speculate on whether Max knew what Philip of Cleves would do once the Peace of Bruges had been broken. However, since he was almost instantly trying to justify the imperial invasion to Philip, it is probably safe to say that everyone, including Max, was aware that Philip had not been bluffing when he swore to defend the peace. Whatever the case, by the 24th of May Maximilian had joined his father’s cause, by the 29th he had ordered a part of the German army who were based in Mechelen to cross the Scheldt river and invade Flanders and, by the 5th of June, the imperial army had occupied Rupelmonde and Dendermonde and had partially encircled Ghent, setting about laying it to siege. Philip of Cleves sent a letter to Maximilian on the 9th of June, reminding him clearly that he had made the oath at Bruges in good faith, at Maximilian’s own request, and that he had committed his honour and soul in front of God, the King of Kings, to defend the peace. The drums of war were pounding.
While the 20,000 strong imperial army was camped outside of Ghent, Frederick made Evergem, on Ghent’s north side, his base for what would become a 40-day duration of the siege. This did not exactly help enhance Max’s reputation across the Flemish countryside. It was also pretty clear that this action would incite another French military intervention since, technically, what Frederick had just overseen was an imperial invasion of French territory, being that most of Flanders was, as we all well know, still enfeoffed by the grace of the French king. Almost immediately, ambassadors from the Flemish cities were sent to France to treat with the regency council which ruled for the young Charles VIII and try to win their support. During his time in exile in France, Jan Coppenhole had found himself at the French court where he had made connections within the group of Flemish who found themselves there after the chaos of the last decade. French troops, led by Jan van Gruuthuse, son of regency council member Louis van Gruuthuse, and Lodewijk van Halewijn, Lord of Piennes, but which were ultimately under the command of Philip de Crevecoeur, arrived in Flanders in early June, where they immediately clashed with German troops and reinforced Ghent.
One contemporary source, and probably the most reliable, is Jacob Steeland, who was a representative of Ieper, based at the time in Ghent. You may remember him from episode 41, as the Ieper representative who ran off to hide in a church instead of having to bear witness to the executions of Maximilian loyalists in Ghent. From him, we get an impression that the German troops were also not making a great name for themselves, and that the Flemish countryside suffered greatly under their deprivations. “The great tyranny that the Germans undertook in the city of Aelst...those I cannot even write of to you. The people of Aelst, men, women and children, forced to sleep on the streets because of the oppression of the German sovereign”. He may not have written about them in detail, but a report by a German nobleman, Wilwolt von Shaumberg, who was a participant in the invasion force, tells us that the molestation of farmers, theft of livestock and general looting all accompanied the movement of the army.
Fred, Max and their besieging army faced supply issues almost immediately upon pincering Ghent. The supply train of weapons, food and equipment needed to conduct a siege lengthy enough to bring such a big city to its knees was continually interrupted by Flemish troops under the command of Philip of Cleves. During one such raid, they were even able to capture a bear (like, an actual bear) that had been intended for the personal protection of the emperor. That is hilarious; like a 15th century version of an emotional support dog. Meanwhile, Maximilian took a part of the imperial army and set off in a south-west direction, down the Lys river, taking the town of Deinze in the middle of June and continuing on toward Menen, Kortrijk and Lille. He was able to convince the latter of these to support the imperial cause, and made serious overtures to Ieper to do likewise. Bringing one of the Three Members into the fold would have been a massive boost, but the influence and power of Ghent was simply too great. During all of this, he also managed to channel his inner ‘Charles the Bold in Dinant’, and destroyed the towns of Roeselare and Gistel. After getting Lille onside, Maximilian headed north once more, where he met resistance by Brugeois troops, briefly laid siege to Damme, and then, by the beginning of July made his way back to pops in Evergem, to see how the siege of Ghent was fairing.
And it was not fairing great. Run by the rebel regime of Jan Coppenhole and under the military guidance of Philip of Cleves, the Ghentenaars did not simply sit within the walls twiddling their thumbs. They managed to take the fortresses along the Scheldt, which ran from the south to the north past Ghent. This served to increase the difficulty of the imperial army to meet its supply needs. To counter this, Max and Fred both took out the weapon-of-the-written-word, and shot off missives to Holland and the German lands respectively, demanding more troops, weapons, supplies and, most important, gunpowder. As Jelle Haemers points out, in one letter that Max wrote to his officer in charge of gunpowder, his tone was threatening and desperate, and he laid the blame for gunpowder shortage squarely at the feet of said officer - one Laureins De Mutere. They had not arrived expecting to conduct a long siege, yet here they were. There was also a constant supply of information coming into Ghent from outside, apparently being transported by women who had infiltrated the German camps.
A whole lot of rabot
So it was that by mid July, 1488, the German army split up and departed from Ghent without having broken the walls, spirit or determination of the city. The troops headed off in three different directions, one part going towards Zeeland, one towards the west of Flanders, while the other, which included the Emperor Frederick himself, went off to Antwerp. Frederick would base himself in this city for a couple of months and from there try his utmost to dissolve the regency council which once again ruled Flanders in the name of his grandson, the young Duke Philip. It was from here on out that Antwerp would become the biggest bastion of Habsburg control in Brabant. The Holy Roman Emperor and the king of the Romans - two of the most powerful people in Christendom - had achieved, precisely, nothing. The situation in Flanders was just as, if not more, chaotic than it had ever been. To mark their achievement, the city of Ghent erected a massive, reinforced defensive gate over a lock in the canal which headed towards Damme. This monument, called the Rabot, took more than two years to complete and still stands today, reminding the citizens of Ghent of the time they gloriously stood face to face against Frederick III, staring him down, until he blinked first.
The spread of revolt
With Frederick and Maximilian’s failed attempt to break the power of Ghent by siege, the stage was now set for this outright challenge to Habsburg authority, which had once again taken hold in Flanders, to spread far and wide throughout the Low Countries. Anti-Maximilian sentiments had been simmering for years, what with the high taxes and the near constant warfare which had been the hallmarks of his reign so far. Coupled with the support of the French monarch, with the energetic Philip of Cleves at the helm, and with the political cover of the Peace of Bruges, the opportunity was there for all of those who felt aggrieved with the Austrian prince to cast him aside.
At the end of July, as the German troops left Ghent, Philip of Cleves made his way to Ypre. There he met with important nobles such as Philip de Crevecouer, Jan van Gruuthuse and Philip of Burgundy, the Lord of Beveren, to discuss what they would do next. The lifting of the siege of Ghent had been a small victory, but the war was far from over. Maximilian was still present in the town of Aardenburg with an army. From there they were in a position to attack Bruges, or Sluis, or Damme, all of which could have been disastrous. It was vital for the rebellious Flemish armies to control the coastal parts of Flanders so that they could have constant access to supply from France by sea. So it was that Philip of Cleves began privateering operations from Sluis, essentially waging a piratical war. As historian A de Fouw wrote of it, “many new arrivals, who had been driven out of peace and safety by the war, and now lived happily inside the walls of powerful Sluis, began to try their luck as privateers. Maximilian was burning the land by day and night, so now Philip decided to make the sea an unsafe place and with the ships that were captured, Frans van Brederode formed a fleet in Sluis”. We will come back to Frans van Brederode in a moment.
Throughout the month of August there were various attempts by both Maximilian and Philip of Cleves to take control of the area of West Flanders, particularly the coastal towns of Nieuwpoort and Oostende. The situation ebbed and flowed, however, as the towns weren’t particularly stoked about having marauding armies in the countryside around them and seemed like they would promise their allegiance to whichever side happened to be threatening them at any particular moment. Philip of Cleves was bolstered, however, when he received indication that Maximilian was losing his grip on power in some of the most powerful Brabantine cities. Maximilian and Frederick had been trying their best to spread the word around that Philip of Cleves was an enemy of the emperor, and of the king of the Romans, and of the young archduke Philip. In Leuven, he was declared as such. When they tried to get a similar pamphlet published in Brussels saying the same thing, the people of Brussels refused to allow it, declaring that they would rather stick to the Peace of Bruges. There was indication from other cities throughout Brabant that if Philip of Cleves was to march to them, they would open their gates to him.
Maximilian decided it was time to, once again, call together a meeting of the States General, this time to be held in Antwerp on the 24th of August. You will not be surprised to hear that representatives of the States of Flanders refused to attend this meeting since it wasn’t held in Flanders. By this stage, the German armies which had been in Brabant and Flanders for around six months, had decided that enough was enough. They had achieved their goal, Maximilian was free. The end of the year was rapidly approaching and they made the wholly sensibly decision that they would rather not spend the entire winter sitting around in a cold, boggy swampland. Maximilian hoped that the States General would be able to negotiate some kind of peace. A bunch of points were discussed, such as that “Maximilian had never unnecessarily waged war and that he only wanted to keep peace with everyone”, which is hilarious, that he had been forced to make the oath at Bruges, that he was already bound by an oath of loyalty to the empire that could not be undone by the oath at Bruges, and that Philip of Cleves had helped in the capture of Maximilian and had done everything he could to get rid of Maximilian and his son Philip. As you can probably tell from these talking points, it was a pretty one sided affair. After a few weeks of discussions, on the 15th of September, 1488, the States General gathered at the St-Michiels cloister in Antwerp, with Emperor Frederick III himself present, as well as King Maximilian. Philip of Cleves was hit with an imperial ban. He was officially declared as an enemy of the empire, banished from it, and was to have all of his possessions, lands and titles stripped of him.
Be that as it may, Philip of Cleves was aware that the German troops were in a hurry to leave and realised that now was the time to strike. He set off with an army of around 2000 men on a campaign into Brabant. On the 18th of September, 1488, he appeared at the walls of Brussels and after a few hours of debate, the citizens opened the gates to him. He was welcomed into the city as though he himself was the sovereign prince. In short order, Philip of Cleves was able to take control of the southern areas of Brabant, including the cities of Leuven and Nijvel, whilst the northern cities of Antwerp, ‘s-Hertogenbosch and Mechelen remained loyal to Maximilian. As soon as the violence broke out in Brabant, Maximilian made sure to send loyal troops to Mechelen to take possession of his son, the Archduke Philip, and bring him to safety. He wasn’t going to allow rebels to once again hold the person whose interests they were all claiming to be defending. At the beginning of October, Emperor Frederick packed his bags and made his departure back towards Germany with that homesick imperial army which he had brought over at the beginning of the year. When he got to ‘s-Hertogenbosh, the city didn’t allow him to pass through, as one chronicle put it, “for reasons...”
As the year 1488 drew to a close then, the Habsburg Netherlands were locked in a brutal war, with the southern half of Brabant and Flanders, with the backing of the French king and French armies, committed to Philip of Cleves and the Peace of Bruges, whilst northern Brabant, Hainaut, Holland and Zeeland remained loyal to the ruling regime of Maximilian and the Habsburgs.
That being said, all was not necessarily quiet in Holland, as that age-old conflict between the Hooks and the Cods reared its head once again, in alignment with the conflict that had embroiled the southern domains. We mentioned earlier Frans van Brederode, the man who had gone a-pirating from Sluis, capturing ships to create a fleet. The Brederode name carried a lot of weight in Holland, claiming descent from the original Counts of Holland. For what it is worth, Louis Sicking, the professor in medieval history at Leiden University, describes them in his piece on revolts in Holland and Flanders as: “...a family that pretended to be descendants from the Dutch comital house.” We spoke about the Brederode family back in episode 27, when Gijsbrecht van Brederode was appointed as Bishop of Utrecht, much to the displeasure of Philip the Good who wanted his bastard son David to be bishop. All of this had set the seeds for Hook v Cod fighting in Utrecht. Well, Frans van Brederode was a nephew of that Gijsbrecht van Brederode.
Two other people from the Brederode family, Frans’ brother Walraven II and his bastard-cousin Joris, were connected with the Hook faction in Holland and Zeeland. They saw the unrest in Flanders as an opportunity to bring their faction back to power in Holland. Along with another Hook leader, Jan van Naaldwijk, Joris and Walraven carefully fostered an alliance with Philip of Cleves. In April 1488, they were able to convince the twenty-two year old Frans, who had been attending the University of Leuven and had, up until now, stayed out of the conflict between Maximilian and the Flemish, to join them and lead a Hook attack from Sluis into Holland, as Sicking puts it, “...to take advantage of the disorder in the Burgundian Netherlands so as to improve their dominant position in Holland and Zeeland.” With this alliance, the young van Brederode quit his studies, spent the summer raising troops and funds, and had the honour of being named as Stadhouder of Holland by Philip of Cleves, acting in his position as lieutenant-general of the regency council.
The plan that emerged out of this in November, 1488, was to take the fleet from Sluis, invade Holland, and capture Rotterdam and Schoonhoven. Both these towns had been under Hook control in the years between 1477-81. Joris van Brederode had, in fact, been a mayor of Rotterdam until he was forced out by Cod troops in 1481. On the 20th of November, 1488, the fleet of 48 ships departed from Sluis. Rotterdam was taken fairly easily, as the Hook forces led by Frans Brederode made use of the freezing conditions and the fact that the abundant canals running into the city had frozen solid, allowing easy entry past the city gates. The attack by Joris van Brederode and Jan van Naaldwijk on Schoonhoven, on the other hand, were unable to have similar success. A second attempt in early December also failed.
The capturing of Rotterdam did indeed breathe life into the ambitions and aspirations of other malcontents and Hook partisans in Holland and Utrecht, who had long strived against the ducal forces and their Cod allies. One of these was a man we met in episode 39, Jan van Montfort, who had successfully taken over Utrecht and supplanted the Burgundian bastard puppet bishop, David of Burgundy in the Utrecht civil wars, the most recent of which had been between 1481-83. After the siege of Utrecht, which had brought that conflict to a (temporary) close, Montfort had been stripped of his land and titles in Purmerend-Purmerland and Zuid-Polsbroek but, besides that, had gone largely unpunished. But, now, with the intent shown by the Brederodes in taking Rotterdam and trying to take Schoonhoven, Montfort perceived that the instability in Flanders and the powerful rebel-leadership of Philip of Cleves, was a sign that it was time for him to try and get these lands and titles back. On the evening of the 26th of December he led a force to take the town of Woerden. This may have seemed an impossible task, since Woerden was a well defended town, described as a “strong fortress, that was impregnable.” Well, Montfort managed to impregnate it. This is said to be because the city had only bothered to have one man on watch.
The rebellions led by Frans van Brederode and Jan van Montfort constituted the final chapter of the Hook and Cod wars which, as you might recall, had first kicked off 140 years previously. There is, however, one important thing to make note of, in order to accurately view this chapter within the wider context of the Flemish revolt and, particularly, the Flemish revolt under the leadership of Philip of Cleves. In the conquest of Rotterdam and Woerden we can identify completely different aims for both rebellions, distinct from those of the Flemish rebels.
Hook partisans were loosely categorised as lower-nobility of Holland who sought to wrest power over the urban and commercial elite Cod partisans who had come to dominate Holland from towns like Leiden, Amsterdam, Dordrecht and Delft. The Brederodes and van Naaldwijk, having taken over Rotterdam, wanted to correct what they saw as an imbalance of power in this regard. As for Jan van Montfort... well, as Joey Spijkers put it, his demands were “...of an even more personal nature.” When he had surrendered in Utrecht in 1483 it was with the agreement that he would be forgiven by Maximilian and have his properties returned to him. Instead, his titles had been sold off! The valuable lordship of Purmerend-Purmerland, in particular, had been bought by Jan of Egmond who was pretty much the highest noble in Holland at the time. There was no way that he was going to give it back to Jan van Montfort, just because some peace agreement suggested that he should. After taking Woerden, Montfort wrote to the Estates of Holland to justify the action with that argument: He had not received his properties back despite being promised them in the peace of Utrecht. The Estates reasoned that he had actually had them taken from him just before the Utrecht war, and so they were not included in the peace. Neither versions of these Hook rebellions sought to get rid of Maximilian per se. In Flanders, on the other hand, getting Maximilian out of the picture was one of the primary aims of the revolt.
Maximilian departs stage left; enter Albie Animosus
In early 1489, Maximilian went to Holland to try and whip some order into the place. But after that, in February 1489, he did what so many in his realm had long desired and… quit the Low Countries. That’s right. He left. Ostensibly, he would continue working on policy for Burgundy, trying to drum up international support against France, looking to keep an alliance between Burgundy, England and Brittany together, as well as maintaining positively anti-French relations with the Spanish king of Aragon. We will get back to this momentarily. His main priority, however, was to go and take down the Hungarian King who sat on his throne in Maximilian’s ancestral capital, Vienna.
In the twelve years since he had arrived to rescue Mary from the difficulties of being a female successor to the Burgundian titles, he had been confronted with the very best obstacles that the populace of the Low Countries had had to offer. He had not dealt with them particularly well, but it is arguable that this is largely because he had not been trained or prepared properly to do so. It is all too tempting to draw comparisons with others who came before him, and perhaps the best comparison to his task is that of Philip the Bold, the first of the Burgundian-Valois dukes. Stretching back quite a long way in our narrative - to episode 13 - you may recall that Philip the Bold had kicked off his dynasty by marrying Margaret of Flanders, the daughter of the then count of Flanders, Louis of Male. Philip had also had to face Flemish revolts (who hasn’t?), but the difference is that he had had the benefit of Louis of Male’s guidance for around fifteen years before taking over the reigns as the Count of Flanders. Philip had been able to utilise the twenty-something years experience that his father in law had accrued in pacifying Flanders, and so had managed the tumultuous nature of Flemish urban societies with a decent amount of magnanimity.
Maximilian had never had that opportunity, since the context with which he had arrived was as the prince in shining armour, come to rescue the poor, beleaguered princess Mary of Burgundy against the lascivious designs of a States General that had outrageously foisted the Great Privilege upon her. He had little idea of the nuances required to deal with the autonomously minded cities of the Low Countries - especially the economic powerhouses of the Three Flemish Members - and, when he took over, he had to immediately arrange the defence of the country against France. Simply put, he had been ill equipped to fashion a rule over the Netherlands that suited the society that inhabited it and had fallen into the trap of repeating mistakes that his predecessor, Charles the Bold, had doubled down on. His late father in law was not exactly a man for self-reflection and personal growth but, it would have been interesting to see if, had they been able to meet and had Maximilian been able to glean some nuggets of experiential wisdom from Charles’ time dealing with urban revolt, whether he may have approached his rule differently. Considering Charles tended to deal with these things by burning them to the ground...probably not. Oh well, that is all conjecture. But, now, after nearly fifteen years of overseeing war, famine, disease, social degradation, revolt, more war, economic bastardisation and ruin, a touch more revolt, a tad more war and then his own imprisonment by the richest city in his realm, he was done. His son, the prins naturel was not yet of age, and so Maximilian had to leave somebody in charge who could stave off the insurgent forces and, generally, try and clean up the mess a bit. And that man was Albert of Saxony.
Albert of Saxony is one of those characters of Dutch history who probably doesn’t get as much wider attention as what his achievements and efforts merit. He was the third son from the union of the Duke of Saxony and the sister of the emperor, and had proven himself extremely able in the service of the imperial army. He had been a part of the imperial force that marched against Charles the Bold, back in 1475, performing with the kind of distinction that earned him the exact same nickname, ‘the Bold’. Actually, he was often given the latinised version which, marvellously, is ‘Animosus’. So Albie Animosus was integrally connected to the Habsburg centre of power when Maximilian married Mary of Burgundy and, by the mid-1480s was clearly respected enough by the emperor to be given command of an army sent to retake Austrian lands from Matthias Corvinus in 1487. Although this failed, it did not seem to dent his reputation in the imperial court, and he was a part of the force that Frederick led into the Low Countries in the early stages of 1488 when Maximilian was imprisoned in Bruges. Now, with Maximilian taking himself out of the domestic picture, the task of quashing the spread of revolt landed in the lap of Albert of Saxony. As Koenigsberger put it: “He proved to be an excellent choice.” We shall see, in episodes to come, why this is the case.
But what about France..?
The Flemish revolt and resistance led by Philip of Cleves was largely sustained and had such success in 1488 because the French monarchy backed it up with troops, funds and supplies. However, as is the way with these things, events beyond the borders of Burgundy and beyond the control of Philip of Cleves would soon drag this support away from the rebels. The Duchy of Brittany, which sat on the western flank of the French kingdom, had long enjoyed a status similar to Burgundy, in that it was technically ruled by France, but in reality was basically independent. Direct control of Brittany had long been coveted by the kings of France. The Duke of Brittany, Francis II, had obstinately fought against subjugation to France, being a major player in the civil wars that had rocked the kingdom following the respective inaugurations of Louis XI and Charles VIII, the War of the Public Weal and the Mad War. Within the context of the latter of these, in July 1488, Brittany had been soundly defeated by French forces and, shortly after, Francis, who had two daughters but no surviving son, had been forced to sign a treaty that made him a vassal of France once and for all and which guaranteed that the French king would succeed him in his titles if he were to die without a male heir. Unfortunately for anyone in Brittany who was rooting for their continued independence, in September 1488 Francis II fell off a horse and died. This triggered the clause that basically placed the right to rule Brittany in the hands of the French king Charles VIII. All he had to do was marry Anne of Brittany, the 11 year old female successor to the now perished Francis II. One issue was, however, that Anne of Brittany was, in fact, engaged to be married to… none other than… Maximilian.
As such, the death of Francis of Brittany meant a shifting of priorities for France. The court was now more concerned about keeping Brittany out of the hands of Maximilian than they were about the immediate fate of the Low Countries and the rebellions stirring across them. This would prove to be a cruel blow for Philip of Cleves and the ambitions of the States of Flanders and the regency council. Philip made a journey to the French court to try to plead the importance of their cause, but it was to no avail. As a result, the tide of the war began to turn against Philip. In the early months of 1489, Albert of Saxony made gains in Brabant. In February 1489, Philippe de Crevecouer demanded a large payment from the city of Ghent for continued French support of them. The French grew increasingly alarmed when in February, 1489, an alliance was formed between Maximilian, Henry VII of England and Ferdinand of Aragon. They wanted an end to the fighting in the Low Countries so they could focus on Brittany and make sure that they weren’t surrounded by enemies on all sides. Philip of Cleves remained determined, but the war continued to slip away from him as Albert of Saxony made further progress in West Flanders and Brabant. In June, the Hook occupation of Rotterdam also came to an end when Frans van Brederode was forced to retreat back to Sluis, after the city ran out of food. Philip of Burgundy, the Lord of Beveren, who was also on the regency council at this point switched sides back to Maximilian.
Winning this war became basically impossible for Philip of Cleves when, in July 1489, negotiations between Maximilian and Charles VII led to the Treaty of Frankfurt which was signed on the 22nd of that month. In this treaty, the two agreed that Maximilian would cease his efforts to obstruct Charles VIII’s aims in Brittany, and in return the French king would cease his support of Philip of Cleves and the rebellious Flemish cities. This treaty also stated that the rebels in Flanders were to acknowledge Maximilian, once again, as regent to his son, Philip. This, of course, had not been discussed with said rebels in Flanders. Shortly after this, Albert of Saxony was able to capture the important Brabantine cities of Tienen, following which the other big cities of Brussels and Leuven decided to give up the fight.
Philip of Cleves was pretty much bereft of any options by this point. He decided to return to his stronghold fortress of Sluis, where he could easily stay out of the hands of his enemies. On the 30th of October, 1489, the Treaty of Frankfurt was expanded upon and the fighting in Flanders was brought to a close with the Peace of Montil-lez-Tours. Unlike Frankfurt, this treaty was agreed to in conjunction with representatives not only of Maximilian and Charles VIII, but also of ambassadors from Flanders, including Jan Coppenhole and Adrien Villain, the lord of Rasseghem, as well as the agreement of Philip of Cleves. In it, the cities of Flanders were to acknowledge Maximilian as regent to his son and the states of Flanders were to pay large fines to Maximilian. There was disagreement between the Members of Flanders in this, however. Bruges was happy to sign the peace, but Ghent, you will be shocked to hear, was not. And really, can you blame them? They had managed to hold out during a siege against the emperor himself, but were now expected to concede to a siege of words and negotiations conducted by diplomats hundreds of miles away. As for Philip of Cleves, the peace of Montil-lez-Tours said that he would be restored to the lands, offices and incomes which had been stripped from him by the imperial ban. But, as you can probably tell from how steadfastly Phillip had kept to his oath after the Peace of Bruges, he was a man to whom his honour was of utmost importance. The wording of the treaty of Montil-lez-Tours left him wholly unsatisfied with it, as it implied that he was to blame for the war. His story still has a long way to go, for he was no slouch in Sluis. But for now, we will leave him there.
This episode marks the end of the direct presence of Maximilian von Habsburg as a controlling figure in Low Country politics. Although Max would soon be the new emperor, and would always maintain a level of influence in the region, it would be from afar. For now, Albert of Saxony was running the show. As we will see in future episodes, his efforts in reigning in the recalcitrance of Philip the Fair’s subjects will contrast starkly with the 13 years of Maximilian fruitlessly bashing his ingrained sense of superiority against a wall made of French aggression and Flemish insurrection. Maximilian had probably not envisaged things to go the way they had when he arrived as a self-styled brave, noble prince, come to rescue the faltering fortunes of the Burgundian realm following Charles the Bold’s death. But he had certainly left his mark and, although the Burgundian dynasty was technically over, his son Philip the Fair - albeit as a Habsburg - would be able to inherit a Burgundian realm that still very much reflected the decades of work that had been achieved by his forebears, going all the way back to Philip the Bold a century prior
Sources used
‘The Burgundian Netherlands, 1477–1521’ in The New Cambridge Modern History, chapter by C. A. J. Armstrong
Autocratie ou polyarchie? La lutte pour le pouvoir politique en Flandre de 1482 à 1492, d'après des documents inédits by W. P. Blockmans
The Historical Memoirs of Philip de Comines, Containing the Transactions of Lewis XI and of Charles VIII of France and of Edward IV and Henry VII of England by Philippe de Commynes
The Habsburgs: The History of a Dynasty by Benjamin Curtis,
Mannen met macht. Edellieden en de Moderne Staat in de Bourgondisch-Habsburgse landen ca 1475- ca 1530’ by C. H. L. I. Cools
Correspondance des magistrats d'Ypres: députés à Gand et à Bruges ..., Volume 2 by Isidore Lucien Antoine Diegerick
Philips van Kleef by A. de Fouw
Het beleg van Gent, de bouw van het Rabot en de vergelding van Maximiliaan (1488-1492). Een studie over het politieke gebruik van ruimte en militaire bouwplannen in de laatmiddeleeuwse stad’ by Jelle Haemers
De Vlaamse Opstand van Filips van Kleef en de Nederlandse Opstand van Willem van Oranje: Een vergelijking by Jelle Haemers and Louis Sicking
Monarchies, States Generals and Parliaments by Helmut Koenigsberger
Chroniques de Jean Molinet. T. 3 and T. 4
Opstand in Holland en Vlaanderen: De Jonker Fransenoorlog (1488-90) in transregionaal perspectief by Louis Sicking
Punished and corrected as an example to all by J. H. Spijkers
Opstand en dialoog in laatmiddeleeuws Brabant. Vier documenten uit de Brusselse opstand tegen Maximiliaan van Oostenrijk (1488-1489) by Valerie Vranken
Vaderlandsche historie. Deel 4 by Jan Wagenaar