his eyes a little towards his son, and seemed to feebly press his hand.  This was his last effort of life; and in the evening, after some hours of passive agony, he died.  His son flung himself upon the bed:  “He shrieked, he wept, he wrung his hands,” says George Chatelain, one of the aged duke’s oldest and most trusted servants, “and for many a long day tears were mingled with all his words every time he spoke to those who had been in the service of the dead, so much so that every one marvelled at his immeasurable grief; it had never heretofore been thought that he could feel a quarter of the sorrow he showed, for he was thought to have a sterner heart, whatever cause there might have been; but nature overcame him.”  Nor was it to his son alone that Duke Philip had been so good and left so many grounds for sorrow.  “With you we lose,” was the saying amongst the crowd that followed the procession through the streets, “with you we lose our good old duke, the best, the gentlest, the friendliest of princes, our peace and eke our joy!  Amidst such fearful storms you at last brought us out into tranquillity and good order; you set justice on her seat and gave free course to commerce.  And now you are dead, and we are orphans!” Many voices, it is said, added in a lower tone, “You leave us in hands whereof the weight is unknown to us; we know not into what perils we may be brought by the power that is to be over us, over us so accustomed to yours, under which we, most of us, were born and grew up.”

What the people were anxiously forecasting, Louis foresaw with certainty, and took his measures accordingly.  A few days after the death of Philip the Good, several of the principal Flemish cities, Ghent first and then Liege, rose against the new Duke of Burgundy in defence of their liberties, already ignored or threatened.  The intrigues of Louis were not unconnected with these solicitations.  He would undoubtedly have been very glad to have seen his most formidable enemy beset, at the very commencement of his ducal reign, by serious embarrassments, and obliged to let the king of France settle without trouble his differences with his brother Duke Charles of Berry, and with the Duke of Brittany.  But the new Duke of Burgundy was speedily triumphant over the Flemish insurrections; and after these successes, at the close of the year 1467, he was so powerful and so unfettered in his movements, that Louis might, with good reason, fear the formation of a fresh league amongst his great neighbors in coalition against him, and perhaps even in communication with the English, who were ever ready to seek in France allies for the furtherance of their attempts to regain there the fortunes wrested from them by Joan of Arc and Charles VII.  In view of such a position Louis formed a resolution, unpalatable, no doubt, to one so jealous of his own power, but indicative of intelligence and boldness; he confronted the difficulties of home government in order to prevent perils from without.  The remembrance had not yet faded of the energy displayed and the services rendered in the first part of Charles VII.’s reign by the states-general; a wish was manifested for their resuscitation; and they were spoken of, even in the popular doggerel, as the most effectual remedy for the evils of the period.