sake of making French influence subserve the conquest of the kingdom of
Naples, the object of his ambition. The Duke of Berry was a mediocre,
restless, prodigal, and grasping prince. The Duke of Burgundy, Philip
the Bold, the most able and the most powerful of the three, had been the
favorite, first of his father, King John, and then of his brother,
Charles V., who had confidence in him and readily adopted his counsels.
His marriage, in 1369, with the heiress to the countship of Flanders, had
been vigorously opposed by the Count of Flanders, the young princess's
father, and by the Flemish communes, ever more friendly to England than
to France; but the old Countess of Flanders, Marguerite of France, vexed
at the ill will of the count her son, had one day said to him, as she
tore open her dress before his eyes, "Since you will not yield to your
mother's wishes, I will cut off these breasts which gave suck to you, to
you and to no other, and will throw them to the dogs to devour." This
singular argument had moved the Count of Flanders; he had consented to
the marriage; and the Duke of Burgundy's power had received such
increment by it that on the 4th of October, 1380, when Charles VI. was
crowned at Rheims, Philip the Bold, without a word said previously to
any, suddenly went up and sat himself down at the young king's side,
above his eldest brother, the Duke of Anjou, thus assuming, without
anybody's daring to oppose him, the rank and the rights of premier peer
of France.

He was not slow to demonstrate that his superiority in externals could
not fail to establish his political preponderance. His father-in-law,
Count Louis of Flanders, was in almost continual strife with the great
Flemish communes, ever on the point of rising against the taxes he heaped
upon them and the blows he struck at their privileges. The city of
Ghent, in particular, joined complaint with menace. In 1381 the quarrel
became war. The Ghentese at first experienced reverses. "Ah! if James
Van Artevelde were alive!" said they. James Van Artevelde had left a son
named Philip; and there was in Ghent a burgher-captain, Peter Dubois, who
went one evening to see Philip Van Artevelde. "What we want now," said
he, "is to choose a captain of great renown. Raise up again in this
country that father of yours who, in his lifetime, was so loved and
feared in Flanders." "Peter," replied Philip, "you make me a great
offer; I promise that, if you put me i