[Illustration:  A CASTLE IN BURGUNDY]

Olivier de la Marche was among the attendants on this occasion, and he describes with great detail how rejoiced were the inhabitants to have their absentee count in their land.[2] Many matters could only be set aright by his authority.  Among the complaints brought to him at Middelburg were accusations against a certain knight of high birth, Jehan de Dombourc.  Philip ordered that the man be arrested at once and brought before him for trial.  This was easier said than done.  Warned of his danger, Dombourc, with four or five comrades, took refuge in the clock tower of the church of the Cordeliers, a sanctuary that could not be taken by storm.[2] He was provided with a good store of food, this audacious criminal, and prepared to stand a siege.  There he remained three days, because, for the honour of the Church, they could not fire upon him.

“And I remember [adds La Marche] seeing a nun come out and call to Jehan Dombourc, her brother, advising him to perish defending himself rather than to dishonour their lineage by falling into the hands of the executioner.  Nevertheless, finally he was forced to surrender to his prince, and he was beheaded in the market-place at Middelburg, but, at the plea of his sister, the said nun, his body was delivered to her to be buried in consecrated ground.”

In this same visit Philip presided over the Zealand estates and the young count sat by his side, not as an idle spectator, but because usage required the presence of the heir as well as that of the Count of Zealand.

When Charles was twelve he was present at an assembly of the Order of the Golden Fleece held in Ghent.  It was the first occasion of the kind witnessed by La Marche, and very minute is his description of the lavish magnificence of the affair, undoubtedly intended to awe the citizens into complying with the requests of their Count of Flanders.

Charles played a prominent part in all the functions, and assisted in the election of his tutor, Seigneur et Ber d’Auxy.  Another candidate of that year was Frank van Borselen, Count of Ostrevant, widower of Jacqueline, late Countess of Holland.

In 1446, the little Countess of Charolais died at Brussels.  “Honourably as befitted a king’s daughter” was she buried at Ste. Gudule.[4]

    “Tireless in their devotion were the duke and duchess in her last
    illness, and Charles VII. despatched two skilled doctors to her
    aid but all efforts were vain.

    “Much bemourned was the princess for she was virtuous.  God have
    pity on her soul”

piously ejaculates La Marche.

A little item[5] in the accounts suggests that a pleasant friendship had existed between the two young people: 

“To Jehan de la Court, harper of Mme. the Countess of Charolais, for a harp which she had bought from him and given to Ms. the Count of Charolais for him to play and take his amusement, xii francs."[6]

It is easy to surmise that music was not, however, the young count’s favourite amusement.  In Philip’s court, tournaments were still held and afforded a fascinating entertainment for a lad whose bent was undoubtedly towards a military career.