Not once was I defeated.  To God the praise be given. 
  Time and time again Liege and Ghent revolted,
  But I put them down.  I would not be insulted. 
  In Barrois and Lorraine, King Rene warred upon me. 
  Of Sicily erst king, captivity soon won he. 
  Louis, son of Charles, depressed and refugee,
  From me received his crown.  Five years my guest was he. 
  Edward, Duke of York, fled, wretched, to my land;
  That now he’s England’s king is due my aid and hand. 
  To defend the Church, which is the House Divine,
  The Golden Fleece was founded, that great order mine. 
  Christian faith to succour in vigour and in strength,
  My galleys sailed the sea in all its dreary length. 
  In later days I planned and most sincerely meant
  To take the field myself, but Death did that prevent. 
  When Eugene the Pope by the council was disdained,
  Through my control alone as Pope was he retained. 
  In 1467, Time my goal has set. 
  When I am seventy-one, I pay Dame Nature’s debt. 
  With father and grandfather, I now lie buried here. 
  As in life I ever was their equal and their peer. 
  Good Jesu was my guide in every word and deed,
  Beseech him every one that Heaven be my meed!”

The territories thus named, that passed to the new duke, covered a goodly space of earth.  Had Philip not slacked his ambition at a critical time, undoubtedly he could have left a royal rather than a ducal crown to his son.  He did not so will it, and, moreover, in a way he had receded from his independence as he had accepted feudal obligations towards Louis XI. which he never had towards Charles VII.

Lured by the hope of becoming prime adviser of the French king, he had emphasised his position as first peer of France.  Thus it was as Duke of Burgundy par excellence that Philip died, as the typical peer whose luxury and magnificence far surpassed the state possible to his acknowledged liege.  To his son was bequeathed the task of attempting to turn that ducal state into state royal, and of establishing a realm which should hold the balance of power between France and Germany.

There was no doubt in Charles’s mind as to which was the greater, the cleverer, the more powerful of the two, Louis the king and Charles the duke.  Had not the former been a beggarly suppliant at his father’s gates, as dauphin?  As king, had he not been forced to yield at the gates of his own capital to every demand made by Charles, standing as the conscientious representative of the public welfare of France?

Had not Louis befriended the contumelious neighbour of Charles, only to learn that his Burgundian cousin could and would deal summarily with all protests against his authority among the lesser folk on Netherland territory?

The Croys made an attempt to gain the new duke’s friendship, as appears from this letter to Duke Charles: