In order to follow out the extension of Burgundian jurisdiction in one direction, the course of events in the duke’s life has been anticipated a little.  The thread of the story now returns to 1469, when Charles and Sigismund separated at St. Omer both well pleased with their bargain.  Charles tarried for a time at Ghent and Bruges and then proceeded to Zealand and Holland, where his sojourn had been interrupted in 1468 by his alarm about French duplicity.  In the glow caused by his past achievements, his present reputation, and future prospects, Charles of Burgundy was in a mood to prove to his subjects his excellence as a paternal ruler.  Wherever he paused on his journey easy access was permitted to his presence and he was lavish in the time given to receiving petitions from the humblest plaintiff.  The following gruesome incident is an illustration of the summary methods attributed to him.[1]

Shortly before the ducal visit to Middelburg, the governor, a man of noble birth, a knight, fell in love with a married woman who indignantly repudiated his advances.  In revenge the governor had the husband arrested on a charge of high treason.  The wife, left without a protector, continued obdurate to the knight until the alternative of her husband’s release or his death was offered her as the reward for accepting the governor’s base suit or as the penalty of her refusal.  She chose to redeem the prisoner.  Having paid the price she went to the prison and was led to her husband truly, but he lay dead and in his coffin!

When the Duke of Burgundy was once within the Zealand capital, this injured woman hastened to throw herself at his feet, a petitioner for justice.  He heard her complaint and straightway summoned the ex-governor to his presence.  The accused confessed that he had been carried away by his adoration for the woman, reminded Charles of his long and faithful devotion to the late duke and to himself, and offered any possible reparation for his crime.  The duke ordered him to marry his victim.  The widow was horrified at the suggestion, but was forced by her family to accept it.  After the nuptial benediction, the knight again appeared before Charles to assure him that the plaintiff was satisfied.  “She, yes,” replied the duke coldly, “but not I.”  He remanded the bridegroom to prison, had him shriven and executed all within an hour.  Then the bride was summoned and shown her second husband in his coffin as she had seen her first, and on the same spot.  “It was a penalty that hit the innocent as well as the guilty, for the plaintiff died from the double shock.”

The duke, satisfied with his rigour, went on to Holland.  Everywhere he evinced himself equally uncompromising towards the nobles, amiable and considerate towards the lower classes and humble folk.  Various other stories related about him at this epoch are difficult to accept as authentic, for the main detail has appeared at other times under different guises.  Wandering tales seem to alight, like birds of passage, on successive people in lands and epochs widely apart, mere hallmarks of certain characteristics re-embodied.