III. Jacques Coeur

The great business leader has been called in order Magnate, King, Baron, and now Tycoon. The first title of adulation conferred upon him was prince. Hence Jacques Coeur was called the Merchant Prince of the Middle Ages. He was in but not of the Middle Ages. The smell of money was in the air in France. Men who had the feel of livres as some men have the feel of cards or dice were fingering livres and breeding them. They were not operating in accordance with the dying techniques of the Middle Ages but rather of the emerging capitalist world. Jacques Coeur was doing this in France, as Fugger was in Germany, Gresham in England, and the Medici in Italy. And, though there were no schools of business or professors of banking institutes, these gentlemen did very well. Most of them—Coeur, Fugger, Law, Rothschild, Rockefeller, Morgan—were already rich before the average young business-college graduate has emerged with his M.A.

Coeur was pre-eminently a trader—a merchant-adventurer. He flourished upon the swiftly growing intercourse between nations, the wider variety of products upon the market, and the means of gratifying the taste for them by means of money.

He was born in Bourges about 1400, the son of a prosperous small merchant, got some education—enough to get the tonsure of the clerk when he was past twenty—married the daughter of the Provost of Bourges, and turns up in the money-coining business about the time the Maid of Orléans was winning her battles for Charles VII.

Coining money was the king’s prerogative in France, but he let it out upon a partnership basis to various argentiers in different sections. Ravent Ladenois had it for Bourges and a brace of cities. And Ladenois found for himself a partner in each such town to operate the mint. Young Jacques Coeur was Ladenois’ partner in Bourges. Ladenois and Coeur were arrested and thrown into jail on the charge of cheapening the king’s money—that is, short-weighting the coins, pocketing the difference as profit. Unhappy M. Ladenois whimpered that so great had been the exactions of the king out of the business that this was quite necessary for him to make a profit. Young Master Coeur said he did as he was told. Both were convicted, fined 1000 livres each, the plea of necessity weighing heavily with the judges.

Coeur became a merchant. He turned up next as a merchant-adventurer. Shipwrecked in his vessel on a trip to the Orient, captured by pirates, he escaped, drove forward in business, became rich, and finally landed on both feet in the very palace of the king as Lord Steward of the household. He continued to expand his business and, we are told, spread his agents to all the important ports of the world. He had three hundred factors, his business in Bourges housed in thirty buildings, with several business buildings in towns like Tours, Marseilles, Lyons. He built a famous palace—Jacques Coeur House—in Bourges, surpassing any royal home in France. It still stands, a castle in splendor and beauty worthy of a twentieth-century economic grandee, filled with tapestries, paintings, gold and silver plate, and other works of art.

He received a patent of ennoblement from Charles VII, lived at court the equal of the greatest, had his son made archbishop of Bourges, and built his estates all over France. He went to Rome, one of the leaders of a great embassy, carted thither in eleven of his own ships, commanded by himself, pausing at Finale to deliver arms to the French and then going in to the Vatican to open the eyes of the Romans to the splendor of the ambassadors and their entourage, cantering in rich costumes to the court of Pope Nicholas V. When the king renewed the Hundred Years’ War, Jacques Coeur advanced him 2,500,000 francs in metal money, though he had to borrow some of it.

Then, as ever, the love of the king for Jacques cooled. Almost out of a clear sky he was arrested in July 31, 1451, thrown into a dungeon of the palace, and charged with the poisoning of Agnes Sorel, the king’s mistress, and some ten other crimes. Chief of them was that he had “sent coats of arms to the Saracen by means of which the Sultan had gained a victory over the Christian armies.”

There was the odor of conspiracy in all this—charges coined to ruin Coeur. After all, there was a vast estate which was subject to confiscation by the crown. And there was probably some serious rift between Coeur and the king because of the quarrel between Charles and his exiled son, who would become Louis XI. And Coeur was suspected of being friendly to the Dauphin. The charge of poisoning was dropped. But Coeur was convicted on four of the remaining ten counts, including the arming of the Turks, despite his claim that he had a license from the Pope to ship the arms. Coeur sold the arms to the Sultan in order to get permission from him to bring out of Alexandria a large cargo of pepper.

His life was spared but his property was confiscated and sold at auction, the administration of the estate constituting probably the biggest receivership in the history of France to that time. Coeur ultimately escaped, went to Rome where he was received with honors by Nicholas V, who officially proclaimed his innocence. In 1456 he went with an expedition against the Mohammedans, was taken ill, died on the island of Chios, and was buried with honor in the chapel of the Cordelliers in 1464.