For the ducal pair disagreed seriously on the subject of their son’s second marriage.  Isabella wished that a bride should be sought in England, and this wish was apparently echoed by Charles himself.  The important topic was discussed with more or less freedom among the young courtiers, until the drift of the conversations, whose burden was wholly adverse to his own fixed purpose, came to Philip’s ears, together with the information that one of his own children was among those who incited the count to independent desires about his future wife.  Very stern was the duke in his reprimand to the two young men.  He acknowledged that force of circumstances had once led him into friendly bonds with the foes of his own France, but never had he been “English at heart.”  Charles must accept his father’s decision on pain of disinheritance.  “As for this bastard,” Philip added, turning to the other son, destitute of status in the eyes of the law, “if I find that he counsels you to oppose my will, I will have him tied up in a sack and thrown into the sea."[9]

The bride selected for the heir was Isabella of Bourbon, daughter of the duke’s sister, and the betrothal was hastily made.  Even the approval of the bride’s parents was dispensed with.  This passed the more easily as the young lady herself was conveniently present in the Burgundian court under the guardianship of her aunt, the duchess, who had superintended her education.  A papal dispensation was more necessary than paternal consent, but that, too, was waived as far as the betrothal was concerned.  To that extent was Philip obeyed.  Then Charles returned to Holland and his father proceeded to Germany to obtain imperial co-operation in his Eastern enterprise.

The duke’s departure from Lille was made very privately at five o’clock in the morning.  He was off before his courtiers were aware of his last preparations.  That was a surprise, but not the only one in store for those left behind.  In order to save every penny for his journey, Philip ordered radical retrenchment in his household expenses.  The luxurious repasts served to his retainers were abolished and all alike found themselves forced to restrict their appetites to the dainties they could purchase with the table allowance accorded them.  “The court’s leg is broken,” said Michel, the rhetorician.[10]

In his own outlay there was no stinting; the duke’s progress was pompous and stately as was his wont.  As he traversed Switzerland, Berne, Zurich, and Constance asked and obtained permission to show their friendship with ceremonious receptions.  Loud were the cries of “Vive Bourgogne.”  Equally hospitable were the German cities.  Game, wine, fodder, were offered for the traveller’s use at every stage, as he and his suite rode to the imperial diet.