After Charles had returned to Blois, Dunois visited him almost daily. He too had left Châlons; the summer fetes had come to a tragic end with the sudden death of Margaret of Scotland, the young wife of the Dauphin.
“I don’t know if I should mourn for her,” said Dunois with a shrug. “She had a sad life. The Dauphin made no secret of his dislike for her; we were constant witnesses to the way he tormented her. The poor girl will have peace in her grave anyway. Now a violent quarrel has broken out between the King and Burgundy — or I should say that Burgundy is angry; the King always keeps himself aloof and lets things drift. He sees that in Burgundy’s power lie the seeds of his own destruction. That Kingdom will surely crumble now that all that holds it together is one man’s ambition.
“I believe that six or seven languages are spoken within the borders of Burgundy’s territories; furthermore, all the Dutch and Flemish cities have their own law and privileges which they will protect with tooth and nail. Already deputations of burghers are coming to ask the King for help; the ones from Ghent have visited Chalons many times. Believe me, the King is on the right road, the only road, to cure Burgundy’s arrogance. By waiting to see how Burgundy’s powers are dissolved through domestic uprisings and turmoil, the King will accomplish far more than he could through taking any stronger measures.”
Finally, the matter of Asti came up for discussion. Dunois believed that it was time now for Charles to press energetically for the return of that territory; if necessary, the King should send representatives to Milan to make it clear that their patience was exhausted. Charles named his brother governor of Asti and empowered him to take whatever measures he deemed necessary for its restoration. Dunois had wanted nothing more than this; he decided to cross the Alps as rapidly as possible. However, before he could leave Blois for his own domain where he would make his preparations, there appeared — this happened in the last days of August — couriers from Asti with alarming news.
Filippo Visconti had died childless in Milan; on his deathbed he had named as his sole heir and successor his kinsman, the King of Naples, despite the fact that the latter had considerably less right to the succession than Charles, the son of Valentine Visconti.
It was immediately clear to Charles that he, by himself, was not equal to this flood of complications. He would have to give up his claims on Milan. If he wished to save Asti — the inhabitants of the domain, fearful of new unrest and violence, implored him not to abandon them to their fate — he would have to employ force to defend his rights, to protect his territory. He himself had no money to raise an army, and in any case because of the King’s purges, there were no mercenaries to be found. In all probability the few remaining bands existed only on the other side of the Alps in the service of Sforza and other condottieri.
Nevertheless Charles had reason to believe that he would surely be aided by those who had more power at their disposal than he; Dunois had already gone to discuss the matter with the King, and a courier had arrived posthaste from Flanders to inform him that the Duke of Burgundy was acquainted with the situation and was not disinclined to grant assistance to his worthy cousin of Orléans. Charles understood perfectly well that for this offer he had to thank Burgundy’s desire to thwart the King rather than any friendly solicitude.
So Charles quit Blois once more with a heavy heart. He hurried to Dijon where the Burgundian companies waited. For the first time in more than thirty years he rode again at the head of an army. He did not look forward to sitting on horseback wearing armor for the better part of a day. But the people of Asti were incessantly sending messengers, urging him to prepare the defense of his realm as rapidly as possible; they said that they considered him to be the lawful heir of Milan. While he rode on at the head of his troops, along the roads which led from Lyon to Tarascon — they would cross the mountains at the extreme southern point — Charles weighed over and over what the Lordship of Milan was really worth to him.
His grandfather’s duchy was a valuable but extremely perilous possession; it would perhaps give him temporary power and wealth, but it would also force him to spend the rest of his life in disquiet and great anxiety. On the other hand, he knew that his brothers, his sister, his daughter Jeanne’s children and his kinsmen in the House of Orléans expected that the assertion of his claim would increase their substance, honor the memory of his parents and preserve his mother’s inheritance for her legitimate descendants. Their obligations had to weigh more heavily than his own desires.
After an extremely tiring journey in scorching heat, Charles finally reached Asti. He found the city — with its white and yellow-tinted houses set high amid hilly vineyards with a background of blue mountains — to be as beautiful as a vision. Bubbling streams flowed over crags and stony precipices to the fertile plateau which ringed the city; to honor Charles, banners in the colors of Orléans fluttered from the rooftops against the azure sky. But the delegations of burghers who came, wrapped in festive white garments, to meet the Duke outside the city gates exhibited a pleasure that was obviously forced. Inside Asti were couriers who had arrived a few hours earlier, bringing news of the defeat of the French troops at Bosco. Charles’ captains, on learning this, decided that it would now be senseless and foolhardy to march against Sforza; they refused to spill the blood of their men in the massacre which would undoubtedly result from such recklessness.
Charles consulted with the city administration of Asti; not long afterward he sent three groups of lawyers and orators, each group with strongly armed escorts, to Milan, to the court of the French King and to Burgundy’s court in Flanders. Those who went to Milan had been charged to draw the populace toward loyalty to Orléans; the messengers to France and Flanders would request reinforcements.
The Duke waited in Asti in the house of a notary. In a cool chamber, shaded by an awning, he passed the time playing chess with the physician Cailleau or with his chaplain, when he was not dictating letters or edicts to the secretary whom he had just taken into his service. This was a young man named Antonio who had a beautiful handwriting and spoke and wrote fluent Latin. He had attracted Charles’ attention during the welcoming ceremonies when he paid tribute to the Duke by loudly reciting stately Alexandrine rhymes which he had written himself, and in which he compared the Duke with Aeneas because of his respect for the memory of past generations, with Cato because of his grave dignity, with Job because of his patience, with Ulysses because of his constancy in adversity, and which he concluded by wishing the Duke the military glory of an Alexander, the long life of a Nestor, the abundant offspring of a Piramus and the wealth of a Xerxes. Charles had listened to all this flowery praise and blessing with the necessary self-mockery, but he was amused by the young man’s enthusiasm and imaginative energy. When, in addition, Antonio proved to be a zealous and capable clerk, Charles took him into his service and promised him that later in Blois he would appoint him to the post of secretary.
From France and Flanders came no encouraging responses; the unfolding of events in Lombardy, Sforza’s victories, did not dispose the King or Burgundy to interfere in the Milanese affair in the near future. Charles realized that the vague promises they had made were tantamount to refusal. He disbanded his troops, since he could no longer pay them, and sent them back to their homelands. He too left Asti; not, however, without promising the people and the officials that he would make every effort to persuade the King of France or some other powerful prince to furnish him the means to assemble an army which could defend Asti against the menacing “protection” of Sforza.