In order to be safe in the direction of Burgundy as well as that of Brittany, Louis had entered into negotiations with Edward IV., King of England, and had made him offers, perhaps even promises, which seemed to trench upon the rights ceded by the treaty of Conflans to the Duke of Burgundy, as to certain districts of Picardy.  The Count of Charolais was informed of it; and in his impetuous wrath he wrote to King Louis, dubbing him simply Sir, instead of giving him, according to the usage between vassal and suzerain, the title of My most dread lord, “May it please you to wit, that some time ago I was apprised of a matter at which I cannot be too much astounded.  It is with great sorrow that I name it to you, when I remember the fair expressions I have all through this year had from you, both in writing and by word of mouth.  It is certain that parley has been held between your people and those of the King of England, that you have thought proper to assign to them the district of Caux and the city of Rouen; that you have promised to obtain from them Abbeville and the count-ship of Ponthieu, and that you have concluded with them certain alliances against me and my country, whilst making them large offers to my prejudice.  Of what is yours, sir, you may dispose according to your pleasure; but it seems to me that you might do better than wish to take from my hands what is mine, in order to give it to the English or to any other foreign nation.  I pray you, therefore, sir, if such overtures have been made by your people, to be pleased not to consent thereto in any way, but to put a stop to the whole, to the end that I may remain your most humble servant, as I desire to be.”

Louis returned no answer to this letter.  He contented him-self with sending to the commission of thirty-six notables, then in session at Etampes for the purpose of considering the reform of the kingdom, a request to represent to the Count of Charolais the impropriety of such language, and to appeal for the punishment of the persons who had suggested it to him.  The count made some awkward excuses, at the same time that he persisted in complaining of the king’s obstinate pretensions and underhand ways.  A serious incident now happened, which for a while distracted the attention of the two rivals from their mutual recriminations.  Duke Philip the Good, who had for some time past been visibly declining in body and mind, was visited at Bruges by a stroke of apoplexy, soon discovered to be fatal.  His son, the Count of Charolais, was at Ghent.  At the first whisper of danger he mounted his horse, and without a moment’s halt arrived at Bruges on the 15th of June, 1467, and ran to his father’s room, who had already lost speech and consciousness.  “Father, father,” cried the count, on his knees and sobbing, “give me your blessing; and if I have offended you, forgive me.”  “My lord,” added the Bishop of Bethlehem, the dying man’s confessor, “if you only hear us, bear witness by some sign.”  The duke turned