Yolanda: Maid of Burgundy

by Charles Major

I shall not give the story of this disastrous war in detail; that lies in the province of history, and my story relates only to Max and Yolanda, and to the manner in which they were affected by the results of the war.

We marched with forty thousand men, and laid siege to the city of Granson, in the district of Vaud. The Swiss sent ambassadors under a flag of truce, begging Charles to spare them, and saying, according to my friend Comines, that "there were among them no good prisoners to make, and that the spurs and horses' bits of the duke's army were worth more money than all the people of Switzerland could pay in ransoms, even if they were taken." Charles rejected all overtures, and on the third of March the brave little Swiss army sallied against us, "heralding their advances by the lowings of the Bull of Uri and the Cow of Unterwalden, two enormous instruments which had been given to their ancestors by Charlemagne."

God was against Charles of Burgundy, and his army was utterly routed by one of less than a fourth its size. I was with Charles after the battle, and his humiliation was more pitiful than his bursts of ungovernable wrath were disgusting. The king of France, hoping for this disaster, was near by at Lyons.

A cruel man is always despicable in misfortune. Charles at once sent to King Louis a conciliatory, fawning letter, recanting all that he had said in his last missive from Peronne, and expressing the hope that His Majesty would adhere to the treaty and would consent to the marriage of Princess Mary and the Dauphin at once. In this letter Yolanda had no opportunity to insert a disturbing "t." Louis answered graciously, saying that the treaty should be observed, and that the marriage should take place immediately upon the duke's return to Burgundy.

"We have already forwarded instructions to Paris," wrote King Louis, "directing that preparations be made at once for the celebration of this most desired union at the holy church of St. Denis. We wondered much at Your Grace's first missive, in which you so peremptorily desired us not to move in this matter till your return; and we wondered more at Your Lordship's ungracious reply to our answer in which we consented to the delay Your Grace had asked."

Well might King Louis wonder. Charles also wondered, and cursed the stupidity of the Bishop of Cambrai, who had so "encumbered his letter with senseless courtesy as to distort its meaning."

Charles despatched letters to Peronne and Ghent, ordering immediate preparations for the marriage. As usual, poor Mary was not considered of sufficient importance to receive notice of the event that concerned her so vitally. Others would prepare her, as one might fatten a lamb for slaughter. The lamb need not be consulted or even informed; the day of its fate would be sufficient for it. I was in despair. Max, in his ignorance, was indifferent.

After a short delay, the duke gathered his wrath and his army and laid siege to the town of Morat, announcing his intention to give no quarter, but to kill all, old and young, men, women, and children. The Swiss were prepared for us. "The energy of pride was going to be pitted against the energy of patriotism." Again disaster fell upon Charles. Thousands of his army were slain, and thousands fled in hopeless rout. His soldiers had never wanted to fight, and one man defending his hearth is stronger than half a score attacking it.

The loss of this battle drove Charles back to Burgundy. With a few of his train, including Max and myself, he retired to the Castle of La Riviera. Here he learned that René, Duke of Lorraine, had mustered his forces and had laid siege to Nancy, which city Charles had taken from Duke René, some years before, and had garrisoned with Burgundians and English. Upon hearing this unwelcome news, Charles began the arduous task of collecting another army. He was compelled to leave the neighborhood of Switzerland and fly to the rescue of Nancy.

The first of January found us before Nancy, but our arrival was three days too late. The city had capitulated to Duke René. On the fifth of January a battle was fought before Nancy, but Fortune had turned her back for all and all on this cruel Duke of Burgundy and Count of Charolois. The disasters at Granson and Morat were repeated. At nightfall Charles could not be found. I supposed that he had escaped, but the next morning his body was found by a washerwoman, frozen in the ice of a pond. He had been killed through the machinations of Campo-Basso. Duke René magnanimously gave Charles regal burial, and dismissed his followers without ransom. You may be sure I was eager to return to Peronne.