Charles took this hint as it was meant, and gave orders that Liége was to be set on fire, and every building of stone, except the churches and the houses of the clergy, pulled down. These orders were carried out to the letter. The flames consumed row after row of houses, and any edifice not made of wood was undermined by the pickaxes of an army of workmen who laboured for seven weeks, till at last nothing remained of Liége but churches and the dwellings of the priests standing forlorn amidst a heap of smoking ruins. While the work of destruction was in progress Charles embarked for Maestricht, sent the Pope's legate back to Rome with the news of what had befallen the bishopric of Liége, and, having ravaged all the country for miles around, departed for his own dominions.
The years passed on, and at last there came a time when the voice which shouted 'Vive Bourgoyne!' in Liége was silent, the sword fallen from the hand which had waved it as a signal for the massacre, and the proud head of the conqueror brought very low. On Tuesday, January 7, 1477, two days after the fight at Nancy, in which Duke René of Lorraine had defeated the Burgundian army, a young page, Jean Baptiste Colonna, son of a noble Roman house, was guiding a party who were searching for the body of Charles the Bold to where he thought he had seen his master fall during the battle. Not far from the town, near the chapel of St. Jean de l'Atre, they found a heap of dead men lying naked among snow and ice and frozen blood in the bed of a small stream. One of the searchers, a poor washerwoman who had served in the Duke's household, saw a ring which she recognized on a finger of one of the corpses, and exclaimed: 'Ah! Mon Prince!' When they raised the head from the ice to which it was frozen the skin of one cheek peeled off. Wolves or dogs had been gnawing the other. A stroke from some battle-axe had split the head down to the chin. But when the blood had been washed from the disfigured face it was known, beyond all doubt, for that of Charles the Bold.
They buried him before the altar of St. Sebastian in the Church of St. George at Nancy, where the body of the great warrior remained till 1550. when, in the reign of Charles V., it was carried into Flanders, and laid beside that of his daughter Marie in the choir of Notre Dame at Bruges.
CHAPTER XXII
THE WILD BOAR OF ARDENNES
Though the churches and the houses of the clergy had been left standing, in accordance with the orders given by Charles the Bold in 1468, the town of Liége was ruined. After a time, however, those who had escaped with their lives began to return, and by degrees a new Liége arose. The Principality also recovered to some extent; but its prestige was so much diminished in the eyes of Europe that an alliance with the bishops was no longer, as of old, an object of ambition to other states.
On the death of Charles the Bold Louis de Bourbon, who was still Bishop, made up his mind to devote himself in future to the government of his Principality. As uncle of the young Duchess Marie, who was the only daughter of Charles by his second wife, Isabelle de Bourbon, he had sufficient influence at the Court of Burgundy to obtain important concessions in favour of Liége. A yearly tribute of 30,000 florins, which the late Duke had exacted, was remitted, and the Liégeois were promised the restoration of their ancient charters and privileges. The Perron, to the possession of which the people attached great importance, was sent back from Bruges, and the townsmen showed their gratitude to the Bishop by voting him a substantial sum of money.
When he came to Liége, among the first to greet him was William de la Marck, head of the ancient house of Arenberg. Two of his ancestors had been Bishops of Liége, and the family was one of the greatest in the Principality. This William de la Marck had been a warrior from his youth. He was one of the handsomest men of his time, but to make himself an object of fear to his enemies he wore a long shaggy beard, and imitated the ferocious manners of the brigands who had from time immemorial haunted the most inaccessible part of the Ardennes. On his coat of arms there was the head of a wild boar, and, either for that reason or because of his fierce character, he was nicknamed the Wild Boar of Ardennes.