Chapter 13

AN EASY VICTORY

1468

It was in the midst of heavy rains that the journey was made to Namur and then on to the environs of Liege. Grim was the weather, befitting, in all probability, Charles's own mood. The king's escort was confined to very few besides the Scottish guard, but a body of three hundred troopers was permitted to follow him at a distance, while the faithful Dammartin across the border kept himself closely informed of every incident connected with the march that his scouts could gather, and in readiness to fall upon Burgundian possessions at a word of alarm, while he restrained his ardour for the moment in obedience to Louis's anxious command.

By the fourth week of October the Franco-Burgundian party were settled close to Liege in straggling camps, separated from each other by hills and uneven ground. Long was the discussion in council meeting as to the best mode of procedure. Liege was absolutely helpless in the face of this coalition. Wide breaches made her walls useless. Moats she had never possessed, for digging was well-nigh impossible on her rocky site covered by mud and slime from the overflow of the Meuse. On account of this evident weakness, the king advised dismissing half the army as needless, advice that was not only rejected immediately but which excited Charles's doubts of the king's good faith. Over a week passed and feeble Liege continued obstinate, while each division of the army manoeuvred to be first in the assault for the sake of the plunder. But advance was very difficult, for the soldiers were impeded in their movements by the slime. Wild were some of the night skirmishes over the uneven, slippery ground and amidst the little sheltering hills.

On one occasion, "a great many were hurt and among the rest the Prince of Orange (whom I had forgotten to name before), who behaved that day like a courageous gentleman, for he never moved foot off the place he first possessed.

The duke, too, did not lack in courage but he failed sometimes in order giving, and to say the truth, he behaved himself not so advisedly as many wished because of the king's presence."[1]

There is no doubt that Charles entertained increasingly sinister suspicions of his guest. He thought the king might either try to enter the city ahead of him and manage to placate his ancient allies by a specious explanation, or else he might succeed in effecting his escape without fulfilling his compact. At last Charles appointed Sunday, October 30th, for an assault. On the 29th, his own quarters were in a little suburb of mean, low houses, with rough ground and vineyards separating his camp from the city. Between his house and that of the king, both humble dwellings, was an old granary, occupied by a picked Burgundian force of three hundred men under special injunctions to keep close watch over the royal guest and see that he played no sudden trick. To further this purpose of espionage, they had made a breach in the walls with heavy blows of their picks.

The men were wearied with all their marching and skirmishing, and in order to have them in fighting trim on the morrow, Charles had ordered all alike to turn in and refresh themselves. The exhausted troops gladly obeyed this injunction. Charles was disarmed and sleeping, so, too, were Philip de Commines and the few attendants that lay within the narrow ducal chamber. Only a dozen pickets mounted guard in the room over Charles's little apartment, and kept their tired eyes open by playing at dice.

On that Saturday night when Charles was thus prudently gathering strength for the final tussle, the people of Liege also indulged in repose, counting on Sunday being a day of rest, that is, the major part of the burgher folk did within city limits. But another plan was on foot among some of the inhabitants of an outlying region. An attack on the Burgundian camp was planned by a band from Franchimont, a wild and wooded district, south of the episcopal see. The natives there had all the characteristics of mountaineers, although the heights of their rugged country reached only modest altitudes.[2]

These invaders were fortunate in obtaining as guides the owners of the very houses requisitioned for the lodgings of the two princes. Straight to their goal they progressed through paths quite unknown to the foe, and therefore unwatched. The highlanders made a mistake in not rushing headlong to the royal lodgings, where in the first confusion they might have accomplished their design upon the lives of Louis and of Charles or at least have taken the two prisoners. But a pause at a French nobleman's tent created a disturbance which roused the archers in the granary. The latter sallied out, to meet with a fierce counter-attack. In order to confuse them the mountaineers echoed the Burgundian cries, _Vive Bourgogne, vive le roy et tuez, tuez_, and they were not always immediately identified by their harsh Liege accent.

The highlanders were far outnumbered by the Burgundians, and it was only by dint of their desperate courage and by reason of the pitchy darkness and of the locality with its unknown roughness that the former inflicted the damage that they did.

Commines and his fellows helped the duke into his cuirass, and stood by his person, while the king's bodyguard of Scottish archers "proved themselves good fellows, who never budged from their master's feet and shot arrow upon arrow out into the darkness, wounding more Burgundians than Liegeois." The first to fall was Charles's own host, the guide of the marauders to his own cottage door. There were many more victims and no mercy. It was, indeed, an encounter characterised by the passions of war and the conditions of a mere burglarious attack on private houses.

Quaking with fear was the king. He thought that if the duke should now fail to make a complete conquest of Liege, his own fate would hang in the balance. At a hasty council meeting held that night, Charles was very doubtful as to the expediency of carrying out his proposed assault upon the city. Very distrustful of each other were the allies, a fact that caused Philip de Commines to comment,[3] "scarcely fifteen days had elapsed since these two had sworn a definitive peace and solemnly promised to support each other loyally. But confidence could not enter in any way."

Charles gave Louis permission to retire to Namur and wait until the duke had reduced the recalcitrant burghers once for all. Louis thought it wiser to keep close to Charles's own person until they parted company for ever, and the morrow found him in the duke's company as he marched on to Liege.

"My opinion is, [says Commines], that he would have been wise to depart that night. He could have done it for he had a hundred archers of his guard, various gentlemen of his household, and, near at hand, three hundred men-at-arms. Doubtless he was stayed by considerations of honour. He did not wish to be accused of cowardice."

Olivier de la Marche, also present as the princely pair entered Liege, heard the king say: "March on, my brother, for you are the luckiest prince alive." As they entered the gates, Louis shouted lustily, "_Vive Bourgogne_," to the infinite dismay of his former friends, the burghers of Liege.

The remainder of the history of that dire Sunday morning differs from that of other assaults only in harrowing details, and the extremity of the pitilessness and ferocity manifested by the conquerors. Charles had previously spared churches, and protected the helpless. Above all he had severely punished all ill treatment of respectable women. Little trace of this former restraint was to be seen on this occasion. The inhabitants were destroyed and banished by dozens. Those who fled from their homes leaving their untasted breakfasts to be eaten by the intruding soldiers, those who were scattered through the numerous churches, those who attempted to defend the breaches in the walls--all alike were treated without mercy.

The Cathedral of St. Lambert, Charles did endeavour to protect. "The duke himself went thither, and one man I saw him kill with his own hand, whereupon all the company departed and that particular church was not pillaged, but at the end the men who had taken refuge there were captured as well as the wealth of the church."

At about midday Charles joined Louis at the episcopal palace, where the latter had found apartments better suited to his rank than the rude huts that had sheltered him for the past few days. The king was in good spirits and enjoyed his dinner in spite of the unsavoury scenes that were still in progress about him. He manifested great joy in the successful assault, and was lavish in his praises of the duke's courage, taking care that his admiring phrases should be promptly reported to his cousin.[4] His one great preoccupation, however, was to return to his own realm.

After dinner the duke and he made good cheer together. "If the king had praised his works behind his back, still more loud was he in his open admiration. And the duke was pleased." No telling sign of friendship for Charles had Louis spared that day, so terrified was he lest some testimony from his ancient protégés might prove his ruin. "Let the word be Burgundy," he had cried to his followers when the attack began. "_Tuez, tuez, vive Bourgogne_."

There is another contemporaneous historian who somewhat apologetically relates the following incident of this interview.[5] In this friendly Sabbath day chat, Charles asked Louis how he ought to treat Liege when his soldiers had finished their work. No trace of kindliness towards his old friends was there in the king's answer.

"Once my father had a high tree near his house, inhabited by crows who had built their nests thereon and disturbed his repose by their chatter. He had the nests removed but the crows returned and built anew. Several times was this repeated. Then he had the tree cut down at the roots. After that my father slept quietly."

Four or five days passed before Louis dared press the question of his return home. The following note written in Italian, dated on the day of the assault, is significant of his state of mind:

LOUIS XI. TO THE COUNT DE FOIX

"Monseigneur the Prince:

"To-day my brother of Burgundy and I entered in great multitude and with force into this city of Liege, and because I have great desire to return, I advise you that on next Tuesday morning I will depart hence, and I will not cease riding without making any stops until I reach there.[6] I pray you to let me know what is to be done.

"Writ at Liege, October 30th.

"LOYS

"DE LA LOERE."

Punctilious was Louis in his assurances to his host that if he could be of any further aid he hoped his cousin would command him. If there were, indeed, nothing, he thought his best plan would be to go to Paris and have the late treaty duly recorded and published to insure its validity. Charles grumbled a little, but finally agreed to speed his parting guest after the treaty had been again read aloud to the king so that he might dissent from any one of its articles or ever after hold his peace.

Quite ready was Louis to re-confirm everything sworn to at Peronne. Just as he was departing he put one more query: "'If perchance my brother now in Brittany should be dissatisfied with the share I accord him out of love to you, what do you want me to do?' The duke answered abruptly and without thought: 'If he does not wish to take it, but if you content him otherwise, I will trust to you two.' From this question and answer arose great things as you shall hear later. So the king departed at his pleasure, and Mons. de Cordes and d'Émeries, Grand Bailiff of Hainaut escorted him out of ducal territory."[7]

"O wonderful and memorable crime of this king of the French [declares a contemporaneous Liege sympathiser.][8] Scarcely anything so bad can be found in ancient annals or in modern history. What could be more stupid or more perfidious, or a better instance of infamy than for a king who had incited a people to arms against the Burgundians to act thus for the sake of his own safety? Not once but many times had he pledged them his faith, offering them defence and assistance against the same Burgundians. And now when they are overwhelmed and confounded by this Burgundian duke, this king actually co-operates with their foe, to their damage, wears that foe's insignia and dares to hide himself behind those emblems, and assist to destroy those to whom he himself had furnished aid and subsidies with pledges of good faith! I am ashamed to commit this to writing, and to hand it down to posterity, knowing that it will seem incredible to many. But it is so notorious throughout France and is confirmed by so many adequate witnesses who have seen and heard these things that no room is left for doubt of their veracity except to one desiring to ignore the truth."[9]

November 2d is the date of Louis's departure. It needs no stretch of the imagination to believe the words of his little Swiss page, Diesbach, when he says that on reaching French soil Louis dismounted and kissed the ground in a paroxysm of joy that he was his own man again.[10] Devoutly, too, he gave thanks to God for helping him in his need. Still this joy was concealed under euphemistic phrases in his correspondence. On November 5th, he wrote again to the Duke of Milan from Beaumont:

"We went in person with the duke against the Liegeois, on account of their rebellion and offence, and the city being reduced by force to the power of the duke, we have left him in some part of Liege as we were anxious to return to our kingdom of France."

In January, 1469, Guillaume Toustain, the brother of the faithful secretary Aloysius Toustain, who had written several of Louis's letters from Liege, goes to Pavia to finish his studies, and Louis writes to the Duke of Milan asking him to assure his protégé a pleasant reception in the university.

The ratification of the treaty took place duly at Paris on Saturday, November 19th, and the king also sternly forbade the circulation of any "paintings, rondels, ballads, songs, or defamatory pamphlets" about Charles.[11] The same informant tells us that loquacious birds were put under a ban.

"And on the same day in behalf of the king, and by virtue of his commission addressed to a young man of Paris named Henry Perdriel, all the magpies, jays, and _chouettes_, caged or otherwise, were taken in charge, and a record was made of all the places where the said birds were taken and also all that they knew how to say, like _larron, paillart_, etc., _va hors, va! Perrette donnes moi à boire_, and various other phrases that they had been taught."

Abbé le Grand thinks that "Perrette" was meant for Peronne instead of a mistress of Louis of that name. But this conjecture seems the only basis for the very deep-rooted tradition that _Peronne_ was a word Louis could not bear to have uttered.

"In the way of justice there is nothing going on here, [wrote one Anthony de Loisey from Liege to the president of Burgundy], except every day they hang and draw such Liegeois as are found or have been taken prisoners and have no money to ransom themselves. The city is well plundered, nothing remains but rubbish. For example I have not been able to find a sheet of paper fit for writing to you, but with all my pains could get nothing but some leaves from an old book."[12]

Charles decided that nothing should be left standing except churches and ecclesiastical buildings. On November 9th, before the final fires were lit, he departed from the wretched town and went down the left bank of the Meuse to an abbey on the river, where he paused for the night. Four leagues distant from the city was this place, and from it were plainly visible the flames of the burning buildings on that grim St. Hubert's Day--a day when Liege had been wont to give vent to merriment.

"From all the dangers that had encompassed him, Charles escaped with his life, simply because his hour had not yet struck, and because he was God's chosen instrument to punish the sinning city," is the verdict of one chronicler who does not spare his fellow-Liegeois for their follies while he profoundly pities their fate.[13]

Out of the many contemporaneous accounts a portion of a private letter from the duke's cup-bearer to his sister is added:[14]

"Very dear sister, with a very good heart I recommend myself to you and to all my good friends, men and women in our parts, not forgetting my _beaux-pères,_ Martin Stephen and Dan Gauthier. Pray know that, thanks to God, I and all my people are safe and sound. As to my horses, one was wounded and another is sick in the hands of the marshals at Namur, and the others are thin enough and have no grain to eat except hay. The weather, has, indeed, been enough to strike a chill to the hearts of men and horses. Since we left Burgundy there have not been three fine days in succession and we are in a worse state than wolves.

"You already know how we passed through Lorraine and Ratellois without troubling about Salesart or other French captains, nor the other Lorrainers either, although they were under orders to attack us, and were no more afraid of us than we of them. As we approached the territory of Hainaut, M. the duke sent Messire Pierre de Harquantbault[15] to us to show us what road to take. He told us that the duke had made a treaty with the king, who had visited him, news that filled us with astonishment....

After skirmishing for several days we reached the faubourgs of Liege and remained there three of four days under arms, with no sleep and little food, and our horses standing in the rain with no shelter but the trees. While we were thus lodged, the king and the duke with a fair escort arrived and took up their quarters in certain houses near the faubourg. [... Constant firing was interchanged for several days. Sallies were essayed and men were slain.]

"Finally a direct attack was made on the king and Monseigneur and there were more of their people than ours and that night Monseigneur was in great danger. The following Sunday at 9 A.M. we began the assault in three separate quarters. It was a fine thing to see the men-at-arms march on the walls of the said city, some climbing and others scaling them with ladders. The standards of monseigneur the marshal and monsgn. de Renty who had been stationed together in the faubourgs, were the first within the said city which contained at that moment sixteen to eighteen thousand combatants, who were surprised when they saw their walls scaled.

"In a moment we entered crying 'Burgundy' and 'city gained.' Ever so many of their people were slain and drowned in their flight. We flew to reach the market-place and the church of St. Lambert where a number of prisoners were taken and thrown into the water. Our ensign stood in the midst of the fray on the market-place, in the hopes that they would rally for a combat but they rallied only to flee. While we held our position on the square several were created knights.... All the churches--more than four hundred--were pillaged and plundered. It is rumoured that they will be burnt together with the rest of the city. Piteous it is to see what ill is wrought.... [The king] stayed in the city with Monseigneur two or three days. Then he departed, it is said for Brussels to await my said lord. It is a great thing to have seen the puissance of my master, _which is great enough to defeat an emperor_. I believe the Burgundians will shortly return to Burgundy.

"I paid my respects to my said lord, who received me very well. At present I am listed[16] among those whose term is almost expired and I am ready to follow him wherever he wishes until my service is out, which will be soon. I would have written before had I had any one to send it by. Pray write me about yourself by the first comer. Praying our Lord, beloved sister, to keep you. Written in Liege, November 8, 1468.

"JEHAN DE MAZILLES."

This sober letter and other accounts by reliable witnesses agree as to the terrible havoc wrought in the city by the assault on October 30th and by determined and systematic measures of destruction, both during Charles's ten days' sojourn for the express purpose of completing the punishment and after his departure. Yet the result assuredly fell short of the intention. The destruction was not complete as was that of Dinant. Vitality remained, apart from the ecclesiastical nucleus intentionally preserved by the duke.

Having watched the tongues of flame lap the unfortunate city, Charles turned with his army towards Franchimont, that rugged hill country which had proved a nest of hardy and persistent antagonists to Burgundian pretensions. Jehan de Mazilles is in close attendance and gives further details of the pitiless fashion in which Charles carried out his purpose of leaving no seed of resistance to germinate. Four nights and three days they sojourned in a certain little village while there was a hard frost and where, without unarming, they "slept under the trees and drank water." Meantime a small party was despatched by the duke to attack the stronghold of Franchimont. The despairing Liegeois who had taken refuge there abandoned it, and it was taken by assault. A few more days and the duke was assured that Liege and her people were shorn of their strength. When the remnant of survivors began to creep back to the city and tried to recover what was left of their property, many were the questions to be settled. Lawsuits succeeded to turmoils and lingered on for years.

In the lordly manner of conquerors Charles, too, demanded reimbursement for his trouble in bending these free citizens to his illegal will. The reinstated bishop wanted his rents and legal perquisites, all difficult to collect, and many were the ponderous documents that passed on the subject. How justly pained sounds Charles's remonstrance on the default of payment of taxes to his friend, the city's lord!

"Therefore [he writes,] in consideration of these things, taking into account the terror of our departure to Brussels last January, we decide, my brother and I, that the payment of both _gabelle_ and poll tax must be forced, and that we cannot permit the retarding of such taxes under any colour or pretence. At the request of our brother and cousin we order the inhabitants of the said territories to pay both _gabelle_ and poll tax, all that is due from the time it was imposed and for the time to come, under penalty of the confiscation of their goods and their persons."

It was the old story of bricks without straw--taxes and rents for property ruthlessly destroyed were so easy. To this extent of tyranny had Duke Philip never gone, and undoubtedly the treatment of Liege was a step towards Charles's final disaster. So much hatred was excited against him that his adherents fell off one by one when his luck began to fail him.

No omen of misfortune was to be seen at this time, however. That month of November saw him master absolute wherever he was and he used his power autocratically. At Huy, he had a number of prisoners executed. At Louvain, at Brussels, he gave fresh examples of his relentlessness as an overlord.

[Footnote 1: Commines, ii., ch. xi. It was not far from the place where another Prince of Orange tried to cross the Meuse exactly a hundred years later.]

[Footnote 2: The story of the "men of Franchimont" is questioned. Commines is the only authority for it.]

[Footnote 3: II., ch. xiii.]

[Footnote 4: Commines, ii., ch. xiii.]

[Footnote 5: Oudenbosch, _Veterum scriptorum, etc. Amplissima Collectio_, ed. E. Martene, iv. Rerum Leodiensim. Opus Adriani de Veteri Busco, p. 1343. The writer acknowledges that the story is hearsay.]

[Footnote 6: "_Non cessero di cavalchare senza fare demoia alcuna. Lettres,iii_., 300.]

[Footnote 7: Commines, ii., ch. xiv.]

[Footnote 8: "_O proeclarum et memorabile facinus hujus regis Francorum_."]

[Footnote 9: Basin, _Histoire des règnes de Charles VII. et de Louis XI_., Quicherat ed., ii., 204. This also appears in _Excerpta ex Amelgardi. De gestis Ludovici XI_., cap. xxiii. Martene's _Amplissima Collectio,_ iv., 740 _et seq_.]

[Footnote 10: Quoted in Kirk, i., 606, note.]

[Footnote 11: Jean de Roye, _Chronique Scandaleuse_, ed. Mandrot, i., 220.]

[Footnote 12: Comines-Lenglet, iii., 83.]

[Footnote 13: Johannes de Los, _Chronicon_, p. 60. _Quia hora nendum venerat._ De Ram, "Troubles du pays de Liége."]

[Footnote 14: Commynes-Dupont, _Preuves_, iii., 242. Letter of Jehan de Mazilles to his sister.]

[Footnote 15: Hagenbach, later Governor of Alsace.]

[Footnote 16: _Conte aux escros_. This word strictly applies to the prisoners on a jailer's list--evidently used in jest.]