Why there are no more City States

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Hello and welcome to the History of the Germans: Episode 219 – The Fall of Ghent, or why there no city states no more.

The words High and Late Middle Ages conjures up images of fog rising up over a field where knights in shining armor are trading blows with double handed swords, mighty bishops overseeing the construction of monumental cathedrals and peasants toiling on the land as serfs.

The reason we see it that way goes back to the chivalric literature that celebrated the aristocratic lifestyle where tournaments and poetry mattered more than the humdrum world of business.

But let’s just take a look back at the High Middle Ages, the time of Richard the Lionheart, Saint Louis and Frederick Barbarossa. Who controlled access to the great endeavor of the time, the conquest of the Holy Land? Who re-opened up the connections to the wider world, from Novgorod to India and China? Who were the most ferocious fighters who neither expected nor granted any quarter? Who had all the money?

These were the great cities of Italy, of Flanders, of Picardie and Provence and of the Holy Roman Empire. Verona under the Della Scala in the 14^th century generated tax revenues twice as high as those of England, Venice capacity was sixty percent of what France could generate. And these cities fielded armies that, as we know, defeated the Holy Roman Emperors, even the most capable ones like Barbarossa and Frederick II time and time again. Their absolute dedication to fight to the end was evidenced by their extremely heavy and slow war carts, the Carroccios and by the bravery of the Flemish Militia at the Battle of the Golden Spurs. And the first European since Roman times to make to India and China wasn’t a Knight errant, but a Venetian merchant, nor were the vast lands on the Eastern side of the continent linked up by military force. The crusades, the grand project of the age was as much a venetian mercantile adventure as a religious pilgrimage, culminating in the sack of Constantinople in 1204.

I could go on, but the bottom line is that the medieval city states played a much larger military and economic role in the 1200, 1300 and 1400 than the 19^th century novels of Sir Walter Scott and the plays of Friedrich de la Motte Fouquet had made us believe.

At their height there were 65 free and imperial cities, maybe the same number of Italian city states, and probably several hundreds of cities that enjoyed significant autonomy from their sovereign. Today, the UN recognises only two city states, Singapore and Monaco, as well as the Vatican City as an observer, so, amongst us girls, there is only one real city state left.

What happened? Where did all these city states go? And why?

That is what we are going to discuss today, when we look at the showdown between Maximilian of Habsburg, widower of the last duchess of Burgundy and father of Philip, the universally recognised heir of the Low Countries and the Flemish cities, and specifically its largest, the city of Ghent.

But before we start a quick correction. Last week I mistakenly said that Margaret of York was the mother of Marie of Burgundy. That is of course incorrect. Her mother was Isabella of Bourbon, the first wife of Charles the Bold.

And as punishment for my mistakes, I cannot allow myself to wax lyrically about the benefits of supporting the show on historyofthegermans.com/support, but am limited to expressing our gratitude for keeping the show advertising free to Andy K., Patrick R., Sprocket Tinkerwind, Mani R., Vasilisa, Ethan B., Casper H, and John S.

And with that, back to the show…

Last week, we left Maximilian pushed out of the guardianship and regency of the Low Countries. And worse, he saw his 2-year old daughter taken away to France to be brought up as a future French queen and his 4-year old son and heir Philip put under the tutelage of the Estates General. According to the chronicler Olivier de la Marche, Maximilian complained his life had turned into that of saint Eustace, whose son was taken by a wolf and his daughter by a lion.

Contemporaries as well as historians have regularly pointed out how vastly different the old emperor Friedrich III and his son were. Where Maximilian thrived in tournaments and war, Friedrich was always cautious and hardly ever appeared in person on the battlefield or in Tournament, Friedrich III was always secretive and closed, whilst Maximilian was open and engaged with anyone from barbers to barons, Friedrich’s court was a dour affair, in part as a function of the shortage of money, whilst Maximilian fully embraced the splendor of the Burgundian court and its never-ending sequence of tourneys, dances, musical recitals, solemn masses and grand entrees in stunning cities, the elaborate hunts in the rich forests etc., etc.

But they are still father and son. Both of them were interested in the latest developments in technology, in mining, minting, manufacture of guns and armor etc. They were curious about what they called the dark arts, from alchemy to necromancy, and had a habit of collecting precious stones. And when it came to personality, they both held the unshakeable belief in the destiny of the House of Austria and from that derived a persistence, even stubbornness that kept them going even when anyone else would have concluded that the chips are down and it was time to go home.

And it was this infinite resource and tenacity, that kept Maximilian from giving up after he had been forced to sign the treaty of Arras in spring 1483. This tenacity may be somewhat admirable from the distance of 500 plus years, but if you had been living in the Low Countries during these years, you would have preferred a more malleable duke.

The Estates General had intended for Maximilian to be ousted from his role as guardian and regent in all the lands of the dukes of Burgundy. But the estates themselves were not a balanced body. The number of delegates and their selection process had not been formalized, so that sometimes entire provinces were absent from the debates. And given the meetings were often held in Ghent or Bruges, the representatives of the cities of Flanders were usually over represented. And it was the cities of Flanders that were most adamant in their desire to get rid of Maximilian, whose wasteful wars and rapacious German administrators were destroying their lands, or so they said.

That view was not necessarily shared by everyone. Brabant and Hainault took a more favorable view of Maximilian, whose victory at Guinegate had protected these provinces from French occupation. Which is why Maximilian went straight to Mechelen, Antwerp and Brussels.

What happens next will be shocking to many fans of the Last Knight, the great chivalric hero. But we should not forget what he was fighting for. Not just for some piece of land he had hoped to rule thanks to an advantageous marriage, he was also fighting for the continued existence of his dynasty, whose survival in Austria was threatened by the king of Hungary, and even more importantly, he was fighting to one day see his children again, the boy and the girl who he had promised his dying wife to protect. With that much at stake, he did not take prisoners. The war in the Netherlands is turning even nastier.

His first act was to go to Liege where William de la Marck, the wild Boar of the Ardennes had not only unseated the prince bishop but had also split his head open with an axe. A battle fought outside the walls turned into a brutal massacre where Maximilian’s heavy artillery tore through the city militia. The terrified Liégeois threw the French out and let Maximilian in. The archduke, instead of punishing the murderous partman hired William into his army. William did get his just desert a few years later, not for his crimes but because he had betrayed Maximilian once too often.

Still raging with anger, Maximilian had all city councillors and noblemen in Brabant arrested who at some point had supported the French. They were tried and convicted and five of them were executed, including the mayor of Antwerp. This blood court led to a further hardening of position, not in Brabant, but across the border in Flanders. Led by Ghent, Bruges and Ypres, the estates established a regency council that comprised the city governments and several senior aristocrats, some of them members of the order of the Golden Fleece.

Though before Maximilian could turn his forces against his main opposition in Flanders, he had to deal with another problem, Utrecht. The prince bishopric of Utrecht, like Liege, had been an associate part of the Burgundian state and its bishop was chosen by the dukes. The current officeholder was David, an illegitimate son of Philip the Good, or as they called it at the time, a bastard of Burgundy. David’s position as bishop of Utrecht had been precarious, ever since his father had pushed his nomination against the opposition of the Hooks, and he had not helped things when he forced through a radical centralisation policy. When the death of Marie of Burgundy created a political opening, the Hooks in Utrecht captured their bishop and paraded him around in a cart filled with manure before putting him in jail.

That mistreatment of a member of the ducal family called out for revenge. Maximilian brought his heavy artillery before Utrecht and systematically pulverised the city walls. After 2 months the eminent citizens came out of the gates barefoot and with ropes around their necks, begging for forgiveness. The city was fined 40,000 gulden, ordered to dismiss all their troops, give up their privileges as an independent city and had to permit the construction of a fortress inside its walls.

Over the subsequent months he reestablished his hold over Guelders and Holland, took Arnheim and made peace with the duke of Cleves.

He now held the entirety of the North of the Low Countries and had his back free. It was time to turn on the rebellious cities of Flanders.

And another event strengthened Maximilian’s hand. King Louis XI, the wily adversary whose intrigues had sent Charles the Bold into his frozen death and whose spider’s web of allies and bribery agents had already brought 6 years of war and devastation to the Burgundian state, died on August 30^th, 1483.

The cities of Flanders sent an embassy to Paris to congratulate the new king of France, the 13-year old Charles VIII and renewed the treaty of Arras. Maximilian had the envoys arrested for treason before they could return to Ghent.

Then he declared the regency council dissolved. His agents distributed pamphlets claiming the regency council, including the knights of the Golden Fleece who served on it, had harmed duke Philip, his son and their hereditary lord. The regency council responded, stating that they were loyal subjects of their true lord, archduke Philip, and that Maximilian had been fighting ruinous and useless wars and had allowed the remaining cash to be taken out of the country by his corrupt German advisers. Hence the only way to protect the Netherlanders from eternal subservience to the Germans was if Philip was educated as a Netherlander, here in the Low countries.

Before we get on with this story, it may be worth while to ask the question, what the deep underlying reason for their objection to Maximilian’s rule was. Sure the points they made about corruption and the independence of the Netherlands from foreign control were truly felt. But if we go one abstraction level up, and look into Maximilian’s broader political objectives, we see something that is much more traditionally Burgundian. The young Habsburg wasn’t introducing new and foreign policy instruments, what he was doing was continuing the policies of Philipp the Good  and Charles the Bold, who had tried to forge their diverse territories into one coherent and ideally contiguous state, a kingdom even. That would include one central appellate court in Mechelen, a central fiscal and administrative organization and a standing army.

All that sounds fairly modern, so why did the elites in the Flemish cities whose business network spanned the known world and who were more literate and better educated than most, why did they object? The reason we live – more or less happily – in centralized states today is because the state holds a monopoly on violence, protecting me from bandits and baddies, ideally from invasions too. The advantages of safe roads and borders should be evident to a Flemish merchant, but apparently it wasn’t. They were prepared to go all the way to thwart such centralization and modernity. Why?

One part is simply pride, pride in your city, pride in the long list of charters a place like Ghent had wrestled from reluctant princes that granted self determination and freedom. Freedom is always a great rallying cry, though it can mean very different things to different people.

Given my background and world view, I also believe there was a strong commercial motive her. And so it may be a good idea to go to the father of economic understanding, Adam Smith and one of his most famous quotes:

“In all countries where there is a tolerable security, every man of common understanding will endeavour to employ whatever stock he can command, in procuring either present enjoyment or future profit.[..] A man must be perfectly crazy, who, where there is a tolerable security, does not employ all the stock which he commands, [  ] in some one or other of those [..] ways. In those unfortunate countries, indeed, where men are continually afraid of the violence of their superiors, they frequently bury or conceal a great part of their stock, in order to have it always at hand to carry with them to some place of safety, in case of they being threatened with any of those disasters to which they consider themselves at all times exposed.” End quote. Source: Wealth-Nations).

Montesquieu makes this even more explicit:

 “Great enterprises in commerce are not found in monarchical, but republican governments….An opinion of greater certainty as to the possession of property in these [republican] states makes [merchants] undertake everything….Thinking themselves sure of what they have already acquired, they boldly expose it in order to acquire more…” end quote

And to bring in a modern instead of an 18^th century source, here are Bradford de Long and Shleifer in their 1991 paper on Princes and Merchants: quote

“As measured by the pace of city growth in western europe between 1000 to 1800, absolutist monarchs stunted the growth of commerce and industry. A region ruled by an absolutist prince saw its urban population shrink by 100,000 people per century relative to a region without absolutist government. This might be explained by higher rates of taxation under revenue maximizing absolutist governments than under non-absolutist governments, which care more about general economic prosperity and less about state revenue.”

Bottom line, what the Gentenaars feared, beyond the impact on their personal freedoms and privileges, was the impact that a centralizing, authoritarian government could have on their business. The history of the Flemish cities is full of counts and duke whose political objectives were fundamentally at odds with the economic interests of the burghers, resulting in a never-ending string of uprisings and wars. This latest revolt against Maximilian was therefore nothing new or unusual.

If one was a betting man, the odds were very much in favor of the cities of Flanders. Ghent, Bruges and Ypres were the by far richest cities in Northern Europe. The networks of their merchants and the reputation of their cloth stretched across the whole of europe. They were home to the branches and counting houses of the bankers of Florence, the traders of Genoa, Venice, Barcelona and Lisbon, the merchants of the Hanseatic league and the wool-sellers of England and Wales.

And beyond the all important coin, they could rely on support from the French. Sure, young king Charles VIII was no match to his father, but his elder sister and the current regent of France, Anne de Beaujeu was. She became known as “Madame la Grande”, on account of her masterful management of France during the troubles following Louis XI’s death. Her father called her “the least foolish woman in France”, which is another black mark against an already thoroughly blackened reputation.

In any event, she was no pushover and French support for the Flemings, and in particular the Gentenaars, the inhabitants of Ghent and Bruggelingen, the citizens of Bruges was firm. I cannot believe I missed out on these most excellent terms over these last episodes. There is also Brugse Zotten, which I understand is very rude and will be reserved for next week’s episode.

There we go, the Gentenaars, Bruggelingen et. al. put together an army and recruit a suitable commander, Jacob of Romont, once a friend and lieutenant of Charles the Bold and – according to some – the true engineer of Maximilian’s victory at Guinegate.

As for Maximilian, his financial resources had never been great, but now, without the tax income  from Ghent and Bruges, his tresury in truly dire straits. His debts had already built up to one million florins. But then…

Maximilian had, as we just described, brought Brabant, Hainault, Holland, Seeland, Guelders, Liege and Utrecht under his control. These lands may not be as rich in coin as Flanders, but almost as populous.

And these places followed Maximilian not just out of fear. When the Estates General established the regency council and their guardianship over little Philipp, they had set up a rotational system whereby the young duke was to be passed around the different provinces of his realm, so as to get to know their institutions and customs. But that never happened. The Gentenaars never let little Philipp stray beyond the walls of their city out of the justified concern that Maximilian may capture/free him. But that left the other provinces suspecting a takeover by the Flemish.

And finally, inside Ghent and Bruges, there were different factions. Not everyone was sufficiently concerned about the long term impact on their economy to bear the near term pain of a prolonged war, the burning of the countryside and eventually a siege of the city.

The division also had a social component. In Ghent the pro- French, pro war party relied heavily on the lower classes, led by a sock maker, Jan van Coppenhole and two other men, called Rijm and Ondrede, which in Dutch could be translated as Rhyme and Unreason, whilst the “friends of Austria” tended to be the upper classes of cloth merchants and long distance traders.

Hostilities began with Gent and Bruges arming two fortresses that overlooked the entrance of the Scheldt River, interrupting commercial traffic into Antwerp, right around the time the annual great fair was supposed to take place. Maximilian responded by first destroying the fleet of Flanders’ privateers before taking the two fortresses and hanging all its defenders.

The next target was the small, but strategically important city of Dendermonde. Maximilian disguised his soldiers as monks and pilgrims, even persuaded an abbess to provide additional credibility, and sent them into Denderonde. They got to the gate, and whilst the city guards were debating whether to let the abbess in, the pretend monks jumped off their carts and ran the guards through and secured the gate. Maximilian rode into the city with a large detachment and Dendermonde submitted.

The Gentenaars and Bruggelingen responded with a massive attack on Brabant, including Brussels. That nearly broke Maximilian’s alliance, but through sheer strength of personality he stiffened the resolve of the Brusseleers and raised the militia of Hainault that drove the enemy back.

Now it was Maximilian’s turn. He took the city of Oudenaarde where his supporters opened the gate. Again, Maximilian rode onto the main square, asked the citizens to yield, or he would unleash his mercenaries.

These successes had swelled the ranks of his army, which now counted 20,000, mostly men of foot. And he had some extremely heavy artillery that had allowed him to break the walls of Liege, Utrecht ad so many other places.

That was the plus side, but on the other side of the equation, the French now officially entered the war. M. de Crevecoer, who had risen to Marshall of France despite his extremely poor management of the battle of Guinegate, slipped 4,500 top notch French troops into the city of Ghent, reinforcing the 16,000 solider under Romont.

Maximilian’s senior officers advised against an attack of Ghent. The enemy forces were too strong and the walls reinforced. Still Maximilian was determined to get the greatest city in his land under his control and get his son back.

His solution to overcome the strength of Ghent was to play on the two greatest human motivators, fear and greed. When the wind stood in the right direction, he ordered his soldiers to burn the suburbs, including the extremely expensive and crucial windmills. As the smoke was drifting into the city, the Gentenaars feared for their livelihoods and streamed out of the gates to extinguish the fires. Meanwhile Maximilian’s army had advanced towards Ghent under the cover of the smoke. Once they deemed to be close enough they spurred on their horses and rushed down towards the gates. Some militiamen tried to fend off the attackers, but most of them ran back towards the gate. Everything happened so fast, a number of Maximilian’s riders had overtaken the fleeing Gentenaars and had gone through. The guards on the gate had to make a painful decision, wait for everybody to get back inside, which meant letting Maximilian get through, or let the gate crush down and leave your fellow citizens outside to be captured or hanged. They decided to drop the gate.

Maximilian’s attack had not succeeded, but it had rattled the Gentenaars. He sent messages into the city asking whether he ever had demanded as much in taxation and hardship as their new city government was now exacting. And all that to withhold his son from him? Was that destruction of their lands worth, just to live without a prince?

His supporters in the city begged him to halt the plundering of the countryside for 15 days, enough time they said to change the minds of their fellow citizens.

Maximilian granted them this reprieve and took his army away from Ghent to tackle the other rebellious city, Bruges. This time he opted for an attack by sea. He went to Antwerp and requisitioned a 100 ships, loaded his soldiers on board and went for Sluis, the commercial harbour of the great trading city. He captured a number of ships and threatened to burn and bomb those moored up in the inner harbour. That was enough for the merchants of Bruges. They opened their gates and Maximilian entered under great jubilation. He did punish the leaders of the pro war party harshly, confiscated all French ships in the harbour but confirmed the great city’s rights and privileges.

When news of the fall of Bruges arrived in Ghent, the radicals led by Rijm, Odenrade and Coppenhole prepared for a last stand. They seized what remained of the ducal treasury and sent it down to the mint to hire replacements for the mercenaries that were leaving the city every day. That was the moment the guilds sided with the patricians and overthrew the government. They put them on trial, accusing them of having called in the French and broken the peace. Rijs and Odenrade were beheaded, but Coppenhole managed to escape.

The Gentenaars opened negotiations with Maximilian.  They accepted Maximilian as the guardian and regent for their lord, young Philipp, paid reparations of 360,000 Ecus and opened their gates. In return Maximilian promised not to take Philipp out of the Low Countries, grant a general amnesty and not bring more soldiers into Ghent than he had brought into Bruges.

When Maximilian arrived before Ghent, his son Philipp was awaiting him. The chronicler Jean Molinet described the scene as such: And when the son saw his father, he took off his hat, and as they approached each other, they did honours to one another; and when they came together, they embraced and kissed each other, whereupon the hearts of those who saw them were so filled with joy that they wept copious tears.” End quote.It had been more than 3 years since the two had seen each other. After Philip and Maximilian’s reunion, the young Count of Flanders was sent off to live under the guidance of his grandmother, Margaret of York, in her dowager town of Mechelen.

Maximilian entered the city of Ghent with 6,000 men. And this time, the victorious entry was not led by knights on horseback. Instead his army marched on foot, eight abreast, even his generals, most of them noblemen like the count of Nassau, the Lord of Montigny, the Lord of Palmes, and others had dismounted .

A whole string of battles, Crecy, Muhlberg, Morgarten, Sempach, Grandson, Murten, Nancy, Guinegate and so forth had proven the superiority of disciplined infantry over knightly forces.  This was the first time the new military order was recognised in a victory parade.

But there were some issues that made the people of Ghent nervous. Maximilian had brought 6,000 of his best soldiers, not 500 as he had promised in the peace treaty. And these men may be disciplined in the field, in a city, particularly in a defeated city, they were not. Here is what jean Molinet tells us happened next:

“The following Monday, the eleventh of July, at about noon, four Germans went to the prison [..] on the grain market to retrieve three or four Germans who had been imprisoned there by the townspeople for attempting to break into their lodgings. The four Germans immediately took the keys from the prison guard, whom they locked up in a room. They opened two doors and approached the prisoners, but were unable to do anything more, for the guard cried out so loudly for help that many people from in front of and behind the prison immediately came to see what was happening, so that the Germans did not dare to leave. The people who had gathered in front of the prison, informed of the situation,[…] went to the town hall, where the court was assembled, and demanded justice […].

At  this time, the duke found himself at the town hall, greatly astonished by this gathering and their unusual behaviour, asked the Flemings to go back to their homes; which they refused to do, saying that they were not asking anything of the duke, but wanted punishment for the said Germans. The duke agreed, but that was no longer enough for them; for by around six o’clock in the evening, they brought their banners to the old market, which they closed off with carts and set up their serpentines, bombards, culverins, falconets and other instruments of war.

Seeing this, the duke, wishing to know their intentions, sent the bishop of Cambray to them, who informed them that the duke was very displeased with them and sought to pacify them with gentle and kind words, but they took no heed of his remonstraions. At about ten o’clock at night, they left the Old Market, in battle formation, with all their weapons, and marched towards the ducal palace, reaching the bridge near the Augustinians, the Place Sainte-Vierge and the bridge where heads are cut off. When the duke learned of their departure, he gathered the Germans and his other men at Ten Walle, his fortress, and commanded each of them to carry the banner of St. Andrew’s Cross in front and behind them; and it was decided to attack the said Gantenaars and put everything to fire and sword;

But Monseigneur Philippe of Ravenstain and several good burghers of Ghent fell to their knees before the duke. He relented, and with the duke’s consent, the lord of Ravenstein and the count of Chimay went to appease the aforementioned Flemings. But they were rebuffed and lost many of their hats, coats, slippers and other clothing, which greatly displeased the duke; and worse still, the people of Ghent rang the great Roland, that is to say, the bell of alarm;

Maximilian then sent a small number of Germans and Angles to skirmish with them. They did good work on all sides; and drove people and animals into the river; and some Flemings were killed. {…]; the Gantenaars retreated to the old market. The duke then offered forgiveness, on condition that certain persons be taken from both sides to satisfy them for the injustices they had suffered; so they withdrew their banners to their homes at about six o’clock in the morning on Tuesday.

That same day, the Duke, accompanied by his nobles and a well-ordered group of Germans, came to the town hall at about nine o’clock, where, after much lengthy discussion, he demanded the imprisonment of the leaders who had instigated or were the cause of this armed uprising and mutiny. Five or six men were arrested that same day and taken prisoner.

The duke hastily brought back his men-at-arms who were in the town and castle of L’Escluse,; he also called his garrisons from Ath, Enghien, Tenremonde and Audenarde; and around noon, Monseigneur Philippe de Ravestain, accompanied by four hundred Englishmen, took up positions in the crossbowmen’s fortress located in front of Thostel in the town, where they spent the night in arms, the Germans moved into another quarter near the old market to subdue the said Gentenaars;

The Duke of Austria {…] had the people of Ghent themselves rebuild the five bridges that they had broken during the war, near his fortress in Ten Walle, so that he could leave as he wished.

The people of Ghent had built on their fish market a staircase eighteen to twenty feet high, on which stood four lions, one bearing the arms of the king (of France), another those of Duke Philip, the third those of the county of Flanders, and the fourth those of the city of Ghent. The duke had the king’s arms removed in broad daylight and replaced with his own. The duke had the artillery of Monseigneur des Querdes, as well as that of Ghent, taken to his fortress; and the people of Ghent returned to him his tapestry, his cross, his library and other jewels amounting to a great treasure; and they offered to pay him one hundred and twenty-seven thousand gold escudos within a year.

The mutineers who started this dispute were tortured to the number of forty. On Saturday, seven Gantenaars were executed, two of whom had paid twelve hundred pounds of gros. End quote.

Maximilian had achieved what no other Burgundian duke had been able to do. He had subdued the rebellious city of Ghent by military force. Not even Philipp the Good had achieved that.

Which gets us back to the initial question, why there are so few city states left.

In previous centuries Ghent and most other medieval cities have been able to withstand the power of territorial princes. The Hanseatic League had defeated the king of Denmark, the Lombard league of Italian cities pushed out the emperors Frederick Barbarossa and Frederick II, countless German cities shook off the overlordship of their bishops, dukes and counts during the 13^th and 14^th century.

From the middle of the 15^th century, that process went into reverse. Many members of the Hanseatic League came under the control of local princes, some venerable places like Mainz faced financial collapse and had to seek shelter with a territorial ruler, the Italian cities were taken over first by local tyrants in the form of the Signoria and then by the great territorial states of Milan, Venice, Florence, the Papal States, Ferrara, Mantua and a few more.

The still prevailing theory argues that this was the result of changes in methods and scale of warfare. The use of artillery and infantry required early modern armies to be trained to coordinate across the different arms, something that required either a standing army or the use of mercenaries. Either of these were exponentially more expensive than warfare had been in previous centuries. Only larger state entities were able to deploy violence on this scale, making city states obsolete.

If we look at the events of Maximilian’s campaign to regain control of the Low Countries between 1483 and 1486, I am not sure it supports this theory. Maximilian’s resources were limited compared to the combined force of Ghent and France. His success was built more on cunning, personality and the internal divisions amongst his opponents than brute force of his army.

There is a countertheory that says that the formation of modern, territorial states was actually a phenomena on the European periphery, in France, Prussia, Austria-Hungary and Russia, whilst in the areas that formed and still forms the economic heartland of europe, the famous Blue Banana that is made up of Northern Italy, Western Germany, the Low Countries and England had remained somewhat fragmented exactly because the cities had the resources to fend off the pressure of larger territorial entities, which again allowed them to benefit from the absence of absolutist rule.   

This question, whether the scale and structure of the military forced consolidation or whether there were other drivers in play will be a constant companion in the episodes to come.

Either way, for Ghent this affair had long term dire consequences. The 8 years of constant warfare, the destruction of the land and the uprisings unsettled many of the richest merchants and entrepreneurs. Antwerp, not far away in Brabant seemed a much more stable centre of operations, away from the French border. And after all that had happened, Maximilian was now intent to promote his duchy of Brabant over the unreliable Gentenaars and Bruggelingen. A slow exodus to Antwerp and Brussels began. That exodus will accelerate even further, when the Flemish cities attempt for one last time to get rid of Maximilian three years later.

But in-between Maximilian will return to Holy Roman Empire where things have gone seriously wrong. The same day Maximilian entered Ghent in triumph, Matthias Hunyadi, the king of Hungary did the same in Vienna. His father, the emperor Friedrich III had become homeless, the ancestral lands were lost. The Wittelsbachs were stretching their mitts out to gain Tyrol from the feckless Siegmund and the Turks, the Imperial Reform, everything was stalling. The victor of Flanders, the ruler of the Burgundian Netherlands was needed back home.

How he fares there is what we will discuss, well not next week, since next week is when I will drop you some travel advice, but the week after that. And then there is Yuletide, which, in the German tradition, takes place at midnight on the 24^th of December, exactly as it says in St. Luke, not on the 25^th as these godless Anglo-Saxons believe. And with that caveat, Merry Christmas to you all.