The ally certainly became more exigeant. In various towns on the Moselle, Épinal, Charmes, Dompaire, etc., the Lorraine soldiers were replaced by Burgundians. This immediate and arrogant use of the rights he had wrested from the Duke of Lorraine alienated many who had been warm for Burgundy. René himself admired Charles as Maximilian had done. The strong man exercised a fascination over both youths, but the duke did not turn this admiration into real friendship, underestimating the character of his protégé. His measures, too, were taken without the slightest consideration for local feeling. Garrison after garrison was installed and commanded to obey his officers alone, while the soldiers were allowed to levy their own rations, equivalent to raids on a friendly country. As always, the agglomeration of mercenary companies was difficult to control. The duke did not succeed in having those remote from his jurisdiction kept in due restraint. Complaints began to pour into his headquarters. Public sentiment shifted day by day. The Burgundian became the personification of a public foe. Before Charles proceeded on his way to Alsace, René had begun to lose his admiration and it was not long before he impatiently awaited an opportunity to break with his too doughty protector.
Alsace
During the four years that Charles had delayed in coming to look at the result of the bargain of 1469 in the Rhine valley, his lieutenant, Peter von Hagenbach, had given the inhabitants reason to regret the easy-going absentee Austrian seigneurs. Much had been done, undoubtedly, in restraining the lawlessness of the robber barons. The roads were well policed, and safety was assured to travellers. "I spy," was the motto blazoned on the livery of the forces led by Hagenbach up and down the land, until he had unearthed lurking vagabonds. It was acknowledged that gold and silver could be carried openly from place to place, and that night journeys were as safe as day. Still, this advantageous change had not won popularity for the man who wrought it. Perhaps the people thought it less burdensome to make their own little bargains with highwaymen or petty nobles,[8] a law unto themselves, than to meet the rigorous requisitions of the Burgundian tax collector.
It was the country that had profited most by the new administration. The small towns had long enjoyed great independence, and had shown ability in managing their own affairs. They wanted no interference. Not liked by those whom he had really protected, Hagenbach was absolutely hated by the burghers who felt his iron hand, without acknowledging that its pressure had more good than evil in it.
Then there were the neighbours to be considered. The Swiss had hated Sigismund and all Austrians, and had been prepared to prefer Burgundy as a power in the Rhinelands. But Hagenbach took no pains to win their friendship. His insolent fashion of referring to them as "fellows" or "rascals," added to acts of aggression, unchecked if not condoned by him, aroused bitter dislike to him in the confederated cantons,[9] and in their allies, Berne, Mulhouse, etc. By 1473, there was a growing sentiment in Helvetia that they would be happier if Austria had her own again, while the uneasiness in the cities that stood alone had greatly increased.
Within Hagenbach's immediate jurisdiction, the opposition to his measures took a definite form long before the duke's arrival there. The various commissioners sent by Charles to inspect the quality of his bargain had all agreed in an urgent recommendation to the duke to redeem, at the earliest possible moment, all the troublesome mortgages honeycombing his authority. Hagenbach, too, was fully convinced of the necessity for this measure, but he was not provided with sufficient money to accomplish it.
In the spring of 1473, therefore, he resolved to lay a new tax on wine. This impost, called the "Bad Penny," was bitterly resented for two reasons. The burden was oppressive to the vintners and it was an illegal measure, as no sanction had been given by the local estates. Three towns, Thann, Ensisheim, and Brisac, declared that they were determined to refuse payment.
Hagenbach marched a force into the Engelburg, a stronghold dominating Thann, bombarded the town, and took it easily. Thirty citizens were condemned to death as leaders in an iniquitous rebellion against the just orders of their lawful governor. Some of these, indeed, were pardoned, though their estates were confiscated, but five or six were publicly executed, and their bodies hung exposed to view on the market-place, as a hideous object-lesson of the cost of resisting Burgundian orders.
One execution sufficed to render Ensisheim submissive, but Brisac proved more obstinate. The magistrates there did not resort to force. They declared there was no need, for they were fully protected by the article in the treaty of St. Omer, which forbade arbitrary imposition of any tax on the part of the suzerain. Their determined refusal made the lieutenant consent to refer the question to the Duke of Burgundy, and messengers were despatched to Trèves to represent the respective grievances of governor and governed. The collection of the tax was postponed until Charles could examine the situation.
A determined effort to bring the independent town of Mulhouse under Burgundian sway was another act of 1473, fanning opposition to a white heat that forged organised resistance to any extension of Burgundian authority. For three years, Hagenbach had endeavoured to convince the burghers of that imperial city that they would be wise to accept the duke's protection and have their debts paid. The latter were, indeed, oppressive, but there was fear lest "protection" might be more so, and conference after conference failed to produce the acquiescence desired by Hagenbach.