From Louvain to Genappe is no great distance, and the sum of 1200 livres, furnished by Philip for the dauphin's journey to his new abode, seemed a large provision. The pension then settled on him was 36,000 livres, and when the dauphiness arrived 1000 livres a month were provided for her private purse[10].

Pleasant was existence in this chateau. There was no dearth of company to throng around the prince in exile, and the dauphin allowed no prejudice of mere likes and dislikes, no consideration of duty towards his host to hamper him in making useful friends. A word here and a word there, aptly thrown in at a time when Philip's anger had exasperated, when Charles had failed to conciliate, were very potent in intimating to many a Burgundian servant that there might come a time when a new king across the border might better appreciate their real value than their present or future sovereign.

Hunting was a favourite amus.e.m.e.nt, but the dauphin did not confine his invitations to sportsmen. The easy accessibility of the little court attracted men of science and of letters as well as others capable of making the time pa.s.s agreeably. When there was nothing else on foot, it is said that the company amused themselves by telling stories, each in turn, and out of their tales grew the collection of the _Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles_[11], named in imitation of Boccaccio's _Cento Novelle_.

The first printed edition of this collection was issued in Paris, in 1486, by Antoine Verard, who thus admonishes the gentle reader: "Note that whenever _Monseigneur_ is referred to, Monseigneur the Dauphin must be understood, who has since succeeded to the crown and is King Louis. Then he was in the land of the Duke of Burgundy." Another editor a.s.serts that _Monseigneur_ is evidently the Duke of Burgundy and not Louis, and later authorities decide that Anthony de la Sale wrote the whole collection in imitation of Boccaccio, and that the names of the narrators were as imaginative or rather as editorial as the rest of the volume.

If this be true, it maybe inferred that the author would have given an appearance of verisimilitude to his fiction by mentioning the actual habitues of the dauphin's court. The name of the Count of Charolais does not appear at all. The duke tells three or more stories according to the interpretation given to _Monseigneur_. With three exceptions the tales are very coa.r.s.e, nor does their wit atone for their licentiousness. Possibly Charles held himself aloof from the kind of talk they suggest. All reports make him rigid in standards of morality not observed by his fellows. That he had little to do with the court is certain, whatever his reason.

Louis did not confine himself to the estate a.s.signed him. There were various court visits to the Flemish towns where he was afforded excellent opportunities for seeing the wealth of the burghers and their status in the world of commerce.

Ghent was very anxious to have the duke bring his guest within her gates and give her an opportunity of displaying her regret for the past unpleasantness. "In his goodness," Philip at last yielded to their entreaties to make them a visit himself, but he decided not to take the prince or the count with him.[12] He was either afraid for their safety or else he did not care to bring a future French king into relation with citizens who might find it convenient to remember his suzerainty in order to ignore the wishes of their sovereign duke.[13]

Eastertide, 1458, was finally appointed for this state visit of reconciliation. The duke took the precaution to send scouts ahead to ascertain that the late rebels were sincere in their contrition, and that there was no danger of anarchist agitations. The report was brought back that all was calm and that joyful preparations were making to show appreciation of Philip's kindness.

On April 22d, the duke slept at l'ecluse, and on the 23d he was gaily escorted into the city by knights and gentlemen summoned from Holland, Hainaut, and Flanders, "but neither clerks nor priests were in his train." As a further a.s.surance to him of their peaceful intention, the citizens actually lifted the city gates off their hinges so as to leave open exits.

Once within the walls, the duke found the whole community, who had shown intelligent and st.u.r.dy determination not to endure arbitrary tyranny, ready to weave themselves into a frenzy of biblical and cla.s.sical parable whose one purpose was to prove how evil had been their ways. A pompous procession sang _Te Deum_ as the duke rode in, and the first "mystery" that met his eyes within the gates was a wonderful representation of Abraham sacrificing Isaac, while the legend "All that the Lord commanded we will do," was meant not to refer to the Hebrew's fidelity to Jehovah, but to the Ghenters'

perfect submission to Philip. A young girl stood ready to greet him with the words of Solomon, "I have found one my soul loves."[14]

All the legends were in Latin. _Inveni quem diligit anima mea._]

Farther on there were various emblems all designed to compare Philip now to Caesar, now to Pompey, now to Nebuchadnezzar. The most humiliating spectacle was that of a man dressed in a lion's skin, thus personifying the Lion of Flanders, leading Philip's horse by the bridle. "_Vive Bourgogne_ is now our cry," was symbolised in every vehicle which the rhetoricians could invent.

Not altogether explicable is this extreme self-abnegation. Civic prosperity must have returned in four years or there would have been no money for the outlay. Apparently, Philip's countenance was worth more to them than their pride.

The birth and death of two children at Genappe gave the duke new reasons for showering ostentatious favours on his guest, and furnished the dauphin with suitable occasion for addressing his own father, who answered him in kind.

The following is one of the fair-phrased epistles[l5]:

_The King to the Dauphin_, 1459.

"VERY DEAR AND MUCH LOVED SON:

"We have received the letters that you wrote us making mention that on July 27 our dear and much loved daughter, the dauphiness, was delivered of a fine boy, for which we have been and are very joyous, and it seems to me that the more G.o.d our Creator grants you favour, by so much the more you ought to praise and thank Him and refrain from angering Him, and in all things fulfil His commandments.

"Given at Compiegne, Aug.7th.

"CHARLES.

During these five years, Charles was more or less aloof from the courts of his father and of their guest. He spent part of the time in Holland and part at Le Quesnoy with his young wife. The Count of St.

Pol was one of his intimate friends, and a friend who managed to make many insinuations about the duke's treatment of his son and infatuation about the Croys whom Charles hated with increasing fervency.

There is a story that Charles went from Le Quesnoy to his father's court to demand a formal audience from the duke in order to lodge his protest against the Croys. Evidently relations were strained when such a degree of ceremony was needed between father and son.

Gerard Ourre was commissioned to set forth the count's grievances, and he was in the midst of his carefully prepared statement when the duke interrupted him with the curt observation: "Have a care to say nothing but the truth and understand, it will be necessary to prove every a.s.sertion." The orator was discomfited, stammered on for a few moments, and then excused himself from completing his harangue.

There were only a few n.o.bles present and all were surprised at this embarra.s.sment, as Gerard pa.s.sed for a clever man. Then, seeing that his deputy was too much frightened to proceed, Charles took up the thread of his discourse. In a firm voice he continued the list of accusations against the Croys, only to be cut short in his turn.

Peremptory was the duke in his command to his son to be silent and never again to refer to the subject. Then, turning to Croy, Philip added "see to it that my son is satisfied with you," and withdrew from the audience chamber.

Croy addressed Charles and endeavoured to be conciliatory. "When you have repaired the ill you have wrought I will remember the good you have done," was the count's only reply. He took leave of his father with an outward show of love and respect and returned to his wife at Le Quesnoy, escorted, indeed, by Croy out of the gates of Brussels, but with no better understanding between them.

St. Pol found good ground to work on. He inflamed the count's discontent and his distrust of the duke's favourite until Charles despatched him to Bourges on a confidential mission to ascertain what Charles VII. would do for the heir of Burgundy should he decide to take refuge in the French court.[16]

At the first interview "I was not present," states the unknown reporter, but on succeeding occasions this man heard for himself that the king was ready to show hospitality to the Count of Charolais who "has no ill intentions against his father. All he wants to do is to separate him from the people who govern him badly."

The conferences were held in the lodgings of Odet d'Aydie. Among those present was Dammartin and the matter was discussed in its various aspects. Jehan Bureau and the anonymous witness were charged with drawing up a report of the discussion. When this was presented to the king it did not seem to him good. He doubted the good faith of the count's message. He had been a.s.sured that it was all a fiction especially designed by the Sieur de Burgundy.

Certain general promises were made in spite of this royal distrust, quite natural under the circ.u.mstances. If he decided to espouse the cause of Henry VI., the Count of Charolais should be given a command.

It was evident that the count was by no means ready to go to all lengths, for St. Pol states in one of his conferences with the "late king" that Charles of Burgundy had a.s.sured him that for two realms such as his he would not do a deed of villainy.

Nothing came of this talk. It would have been a singular state of affairs had the heirs of France and Burgundy thus changed places in their fathers' courts. Spying and counterspying there were between the courts to a great extent and rumours in number. A certain Italian writes to the Duke of Milan as follows, on March 23, 1461, after he had been at Genappe and at Brussels:[17]

"M. de Croy has given me clearly to understand that the reconciliation of the dauphin with the King of France would not be with the approval of the Duke of Burgundy. Nevertheless the prince laments that since he received the dauphin into his states, and treated him as his future sovereign, he has incurred the implacable hatred of the king added to his ancient grievances. On the other hand, the affairs of England, on whose issue depends war or peace for the duke, being still in suspense, it did not seem to him honest to make advances to the king at this moment.

"M. de Croy thinks that the dauphin does not seem to have carried into this affair the circ.u.mspection and reflection befitting a prince of his quality. He has maintained towards the duke the most complete silence on the affair of Genoa, and the proposition concerning Italy. Croy does not think there is anything in it, but if the thing were so it ought not to be secret. He does not believe that peace will be made between the dauphin and his father, and mentioned that his brother was on the emba.s.sy from duke to king, in order, I suppose, to probe the matter to the bottom.

"The dauphin it seems has been out of humour with the Duke of Burgundy on account of the luke-warmness shown for his interests by the amba.s.sador sent by this prince to the Duke of Savoy.

"The silent agreement which reigns between the dauphin and Monsg.

de Charolais is one of the causes which has chilled this great love between the dauphin and the duke which existed at the beginning.

"Moreover, the dauphin having spent largely, especially in almsgiving without considering his purse finds himself very hard pressed. He has only two thousand ducats a month from the Duke of Burgundy and that seems to force him into peace with the king. The duke expects nothing during the king's lifetime.

"Everything makes me want to wait here for the arrival of news from England. It is expected daily, good or bad the last play must be made. The duke fears a descent on Calais, and for this reason is going to a town called St. Omer. Under pretext of celebrating there the fete of the Toison d'Or he has ordered all his escort to be armed."

[Ill.u.s.tration: PHILIP THE GOOD AND CHARLES THE BOLD. FROM A CONTEMPORARY SKETCH IN MS.]

For a long time before his final illness the death of Charles VII. was antic.i.p.ated. When it came it was a dolorous end.[18] At Genappe, the dauphin had been making his preparations for the wished-for event in many ways, all in exact opposition to his father's policy. In Italy and in Spain he sided with the opponents of Charles VII. In England, his sympathies were all for the House of York because his father was favourable to Henry of Lancaster and Margaret of Anjou. He learned with satisfaction of the success of Edward IV., and was more than willing to see him invade France. With certain princes of Germany he entertained relations shrouded in mystery, while his father's own agents disclosed secrets to him from time to time.

In his exile he kept reminding official bodies at Paris that he was heir to the throne. As dauphin he claimed the right to give orders to the _parlement_ at Gren.o.ble. There is no actual proof that he had a hand in the conspiracies which troubled the last year of his father's reign, but it is certain that he managed to win to himself a party within the royal circle.

Certain councillors, fearful of their own fate, did not hesitate to suggest that Louis should be disinherited and his brother Charles put in his stead, but this Charles VII. would not accept. He kept hoping for Louis's submission. The latter, however, had no idea of this. He was sure that his father would not live to grow old. A trouble in his leg threatened to be cancerous. In July, there was a growth in his mouth. He died July 22nd, convinced that his son had poisoned him.

After July 17th constant bulletins from the king's bedside came to Louis. Genappe was too far and the anxious son moved to Avesnes in order to receive his messages more speedily. Our chronicler Chastellain[19] begins his story of Louis's accession as follows:

"Since I am not English but French, I who am neither Spanish nor Italian but French, I have written of two Frenchmen, the one king, the other duke. I have written of their works and their quarrels and of the favour and glories which G.o.d has given them in their time.

"Kings die, reigns vanish but virtue alone and meritorious works serve man on his bier and gain him eternal glory. O you Frenchmen, see the cause and the end in my labours!"

The guest who had displayed so much humility and thankfulness when he arrived, who had deprecated honours to his high birth and desired to offer all the courtesies, departed from the residence so generously given him for five years in a very cavalier manner.

"Now the king left the duke's territories without having taken leave nor said adieu to the Countess of Charolais,[20] although he was in her neighbourhood, and he left behind him the queen, his wife. The said queen had neither hackneys nor vehicles with which to follow her husband. Therefore, the king ordered her to borrow the hackneys of the countess and chariots, too. Heartily did the countess accede to this request in spite of the fact that the thing seemed to her rather strange that a n.o.ble king, and one who had received so much honour and service from the House of Burgundy and had promised to recognise it when the hour came, should thus depart thence without saying a word. However, in spite of all, the countess would gladly have given the queen the hackneys as a gift if they had been asked, and she sent them to her by one of her equerries named Corneille de la Barre, together with chariots and waggons. And thus the queen left the country just as her husband had done without saying a word either to the duke or the countess, and Corneille went with her on foot to bring back the hackneys when the queen had arrived at the place of her desire."

Philip had difficulty in persuading his quondam guest to show outward respect to his father's memory. The duke clad himself and his suite in deep mourning before setting out to join Louis at Avesnes, whither representatives from the University of Paris and from all parts of the realm had flocked to greet their new sovereign.

It was a great concourse that marched from Avesnes as escort to the uncrowned king. Philip was magnificent in his appointments as he entered Rheims, and behind him came his son,