of his services, but of ambition he had none. The campaign over,
the crisis past, George Halluin sought once more his books and his
friends. He collected a magnificent library, he surrounded himself
with students, young and old, and became the guide and oracle of the
best scholars of his age. He took an interest not only in the pursuits
of finished scholarship, but also in the best method of instructing
beginners. He had a theory, which Erasmus thought he pushed too far,
that grammars and rules were a hindrance rather than a help, and that
the only road to a real knowledge of the Latin language lay through the
best Latin authors.
In order to establish his views, he wrote a treatise on modern and
ancient writers, showing how many mistakes arose from the grammars
used by the former. It is curious that such a man should have been
brought into so close connection with Despauteres, the great writer
of grammars. When the latter was schoolmaster at St. Winoc, he showed
George Halluin his treatise on Versification, ‘Ars Versificatoria,’[43]
which it had cost him three years to prepare, feeling confident of his
approval. George Halluin examined it, and at once hit the blot.
Despauteres had to a great extent followed the lines of his
predecessors, instead of mastering the authors for himself. George
Halluin’s first question was, ‘Have you read Silius Italicus?’
Despauteres had not. ‘Read him by all means,’ said the Seigneur, ‘and
you will then see your mistakes.’ When Silius Italicus was finished,
he sent the schoolmaster Lucretius, Virgil, Manilius, Catullus,
Tibullus, Propertius, &c., all of which were new to Despauteres, with
the exception of Virgil. Despauteres read them, and rewrote his book
at the cost of three years more labour. The preface testifies his
gratitude to George Halluin. At this time Despauteres was schoolmaster
of St. Winoc, but not long afterwards he became master of the ancient
chapter school at Comines,[44] a post which he owed no doubt to the
patronage of the Seigneur.
The following extracts from the letters of Erasmus will show what the
great leader of the Renaissance thought of George Halluin.
_Erasmus to George Halluin, Seigneur of Comines._
‘Dearest George, if I am not very much mistaken, I have a clue to the
man who quarrels with my book on Folly.[45] He is a monk, he is a dark
man, and his stomach is the biggest part of him. At first my book was
understood by few, till Listrius published notes on it; but when,
thanks to your translation, people were able to read it in French,
fellows understand it who cannot construe the Psalms they patter.
‘Louvain, August 29, 1517.’
_Erasmus to Thomas More._
‘In time we shall have scholars, for there is hardly a gentleman who
is not giving his children a classical education, though there is not
in the Court circle a single well-educated man, _with the solitary
exception of George Halluin_.
‘Anderlecht, 1520.’
_Erasmus to George Halluin, Seigneur of Comines._
‘I cannot tell you with what pleasure I received your letter. You have
not then forgotten your old friend Erasmus, and in spite of your rank
can condescend to write to him.
‘You say you are not satisfied with any of the Latin grammars or
exercise books yet published, or with the Latin of modern writers. I am
not sure, my dear friend, that you would not criticise Cicero himself,
just as some have accused Virgil of solecisms, and Livy of writing dog
Latin.
‘For my own part, I approve not of those who neglect either their
authors for their grammar, or their grammar for their authors. The
grammar rules should be few and sound; all the rest should be picked
up from reading the best authors, or in conversation with good Latin
scholars.... I should be more inclined to agree with you, if an
instance could be given of a man who had learnt to write Latin without
the aid of a grammar. I have with me here Ulrich von Hutten,[46] an
exquisite Latin scholar, of gentle birth and good breeding. I should
recommend you to discuss the subject with him. I will come to you
the day after to-morrow, health permitting, for I am still poorly,
otherwise this letter would have been in my own handwriting, instead
of being dictated. Most honoured Sir, farewell.
‘Louvain, June 21, 1520.’
An account of George Halluin would be incomplete without a list of his
works, which are, (1) A translation into French of the [Greek: Enkômion
Môrias], written by Erasmus, and dedicated to Sir Thomas More. (2) A
treatise _De Restauratione Linguæ Latinæ_. (3) _On the Coronation of
Emperors._ (4) A work on Music. (5) A treatise against Luther. (6)
Notes on Virgil.[47]
This list shows the wide range of his studies, and also implies no
small amount of literary toil, for George Halluin was one who loved
to polish and mature his work. As Despauteres puts it, ‘nothing would
satisfy him that fell short of perfection.’
Such was the man who must have exercised the greatest influence
over Busbecq’s earlier years. The latter was born in 1522. George
Halluin did not die till 1536, when Busbecq had left his home for the
University of Louvain.
As, however, we have no direct record of the connection between George
Halluin and Busbecq, the probabilities, which in this case seem to
amount to certainty, must be set before the reader. (1) Busbecq was
born at Comines, and passed his earlier years at his father’s house,
two miles from Comines. (2) Though Jean Despauteres was dead, the
school at Comines under his pupils maintained its high reputation.
(3) George Halluin was a great patron of scholars, and had the finest
library in Flanders. (4) The Busbecq family, as has been already
shown, had made constant alliances with the Halluins; moreover, not
only were they their nearest neighbours, but they had also been brought
into close relations by the positions that George and Gilles Ghiselin
and Jeanne de la Clite had severally occupied in the Burgundian Court.
(5) Busbecq’s father was on intimate terms with George Halluin,
hawking and feasting with him (see _infra_, page 39). Taking all these
points into consideration, is it probable that Busbecq’s father, the
neighbour, relative, fellow seigneur, and intimate friend of George
Halluin, would fail to consult him as to the education of his scholar
son? Erasmus, it is to be remembered, writing of these days, says that
all the noblemen were anxious to give their sons a good education, but
that George Halluin was the only member of the Court circle who was
himself a scholar. Is it likely, therefore, that Busbecq’s father,
having such a man at his door, went elsewhere for advice? Then there is
the other side. Busbecq’s writings will show that he was formed in the
mould of George Halluin. A Latin scholar of exquisite taste and wide
reading, a student of many different subjects; in religion a reformer
within the pale of the Church, desiring comprehension and objecting
to schism; in short, a follower of George Halluin and a follower of
Erasmus. At the end of Busbecq’s fourth Turkish letter will be found a
distinct reference to the life which George Halluin led, as his _beau
idéal_ of earthly happiness. His wants are summed up thus—a quiet home,
a good garden, a few friends, and plenty of books. This was the lot
which George Halluin deliberately chose: this the life which Busbecq
would fain have led.
The following epitaph was engraved on George Halluin’s tomb:—
Munera qui sprevit aulæ fumosa superbæ
Pro dulci Aonidum ludo et sudore Minervæ,
Nec tamen abstinuit regum, si quando vocatus,
Conciliis, gravibus consultans publica dictis,
Nec patriæ duros sudanti Marte labores
Defuit, et neutram contempsit tempore laudem.
Qui, quos antiqua populos ditione tenebat,
Legibus instituit, fuerant ut tempora, sanctis.
Comminii genetrix, Halewini cui pater arcem
Jure dedit prisca majorum laude regendam,
Ejus habes clausos cineres hoc marmore, mentem
Pronus ei precibus commenda, siste viator,
Æternum cineres faciat qui vivere rursus.
Of which the following is a free translation.
He left ambition’s phantom-chase,
The glare of Court, the greed of place,
For joys that letters yield;
But yet should Halluin’s sovereign call,
He gave good counsel in the hall,
And struck a blow amongst them all
For country on the field.
At once the scholar and the knight,
He taught his people what was right—
At least the best he knew.
The Seigneur he of old Comines,
And on his scutcheon might be seen
The arms of Halluin too.
On either side of lineage high,
He ruled each ancient seigneury,
The head of Halluin’s clan.
Then, traveller, pause awhile, and pray
To Him who can revive this clay
Mid realms of everlasting day.
There’s One alone who can.
_George Ghiselin II., father of the Ambassador._
Gilles Ghiselin II. had four children, (1) Gilles Ghiselin III., who
died childless; (2) Marie Ghiselin, who appears to have accompanied
her widowed mother to Lille, and after her death to have occupied the
family mansion. It was with her, in all probability, that Busbecq was
staying when he received the summons to Vienna (see page 75); (3) Barbe
Ghiselin, married to François de Hocron, governor of Bethune; (4)
George Ghiselin II., Knight, Seigneur of Bousbecque.
The lives of George Ghiselin I. and his brother Gilles introduce us
to the scenes of public life, the Court, the battle-field, and the
scaffold. George Halluin has given us a glimpse of the library and
the student. From the story of George Ghiselin II. may be gleaned not
less valuable knowledge of a seigneur’s life whilst living amongst
his people. It is not impossible that the influence of his friend,
relative, and near neighbour, the student Seigneur of Comines, may have
induced George Ghiselin to prefer home duties and home pleasures to the
perilous honours of a public career. At any rate, the life of Busbecq’s
father is the life of a country gentleman, interested in the welfare of
those around him, and joining in the recreations and festivities of his
neighbours.
Comines had long been celebrated for its cloth, and George Ghiselin
II. endeavoured to establish the manufacture in his own seigneury.
Nearly two hundred years before, 1352, the inhabitants of Bousbecque
had been given a charter, entitling them to manufacture cloth. Their
right appears to have lapsed, for on June 7, 1531, George Ghiselin
II.[48] obtained from Charles V. a renewal of the privilege. It does
not appear, however, that his vassals reaped much advantage from this
right. About this time the trade of Comines began to decline, and under
these circumstances it is not surprising to find that the attempt to
revive the industry in Bousbecque proved a failure. It is interesting,
however, to notice the source from which the Ambassador acquired his
knowledge of the mysteries of the craft.[49]
A curious document has been discovered among the archives of Lille,
which furnishes us with a striking picture of the sort of life led by
George Ghiselin II. and his brother seigneurs. It will be found in the
Appendix, under the head of _Pardon of Daniel de Croix_. From this
interesting record it appears that on a certain day in the summer of
1519, George Halluin, Seigneur of Comines, had a meeting in the broad
meadows beneath the castle, for the knightly sport of hawking. Thither
came George Ghiselin, the father of the Ambassador, from his château at
Bousbecque, bringing with him the Seigneur of Wambrechies, Daniel de
Croix, a relative of his wife’s, and thither rode other gentlemen of
the country, Jacques de le Sauch and the Seigneur of Croiselle; while
Comines was represented by its bailiff, Jehan Homme, and several other
townsmen who had fought against the French under the banner of the
Halluins.
The noble seigneurs and the worthy clothiers passed a merry day with
hawk and hound; they had their sport in the field, and they feasted
in the castle. Their host was one whom they all respected, a gallant
knight, a safe adviser, a prince of scholars, one who could hold his
own in the field or in the council-chamber, and yet preferred his
library at Comines, and a chat with Erasmus, to the honours of a Court
and the condescensions of an Emperor.
Between eight and nine in the evening, the festivities drew to a close.
George Halluin and the Seigneur of Croiselle, according to the official
account, retired to bed. It is pardonable to imagine that the former
may have sought his library, to add another note to his Virgil, to
have a chat about Latin grammars with Jean Despauteres, or to indite a
letter to Erasmus in the most faultless of Latin.
Meanwhile, George Ghiselin, in company with Jehan Homme, bailiff of
Comines, Jacques de le Sauch, and Daniel de Croix, strolled towards the
market-place of the town. It happened to be a fête-day, so there was
a general holiday and merry-making. To this fête had come a minstrel
named Chariot Desrumaulx. Perhaps he may have helped to entertain
the gentlemen at the castle, at any rate he attached himself to the
party of seigneurs as they went towards the market-place. Possibly
in Provence he would have been allowed to associate with men of
rank, but the Flemish seigneurs evidently thought that the man was
taking a liberty. On the road one of them suggested that they should
adjourn to the inn of Master Francis Barbier, on the Place de Comines,
and there prolong their festivities. The proposal met with general
approval. Daniel de Croix and Jacques de le Sauch went on in front,
while the Seigneur of Bousbecque and the bailiff followed at some
little distance. When the two gentlemen first mentioned came to the
inn, Charlot Desrumaulx insisted on entering with them. De Croix, who
still had his hawk upon his wrist,[50] remonstrated with him, and told
him in plain terms that he was too drunk and quarrelsome for them to
wish for his company. The minstrel persisted in entering, whereupon de
Croix took him by the collar, and, with the assistance of de le Sauch,
expelled him from the house. Desrumaulx grew violent, and attempted
to draw his sword, but his hand was stopped by de le Sauch before he
could disengage his weapon. At this moment up came Jehan Homme, bailiff
of Comines, and George Ghiselin. The former immediately executed his
office by arresting Desrumaulx, and was on the point of consigning
him to the gaol, when the bystanders good-naturedly interfered. They
made what excuses they could for the man; ‘he was drunk and saucy now,
but if he were allowed to sleep it off, he would come to his senses in
the morning.’ Desrumaulx promised to go to bed quietly, and on this
understanding he was released. On regaining his liberty, however,
instead of going off to his lodgings, he stationed himself at the
entrance to the Place, laid down his violin, took off his coat, and in
loud insulting language challenged the best of the seigneurs to single
combat. Young Daniel de Croix, no doubt with good reason, considered
the challenge as specially addressed to himself. According to his
ideas, his reputation as a gentleman and a soldier was at stake; if he
permitted a base-born minstrel publicly to insult him, he could never
hold up his head again among his comrades at arms. Assuming, probably,
that with his superior skill he would have no difficulty in disarming
his tipsy antagonist, he threw his hawk to his man-servant, and sallied
out into the market-place. Desrumaulx, on seeing him, repeated his
insults, and drawing his sword advanced to meet him. Hereon de Croix,
unsheathing his rapier, exchanged some passes with the minstrel; the
latter’s skill proved greater than the young Seigneur had anticipated,
and he succeeded in hitting his antagonist’s shoulder. De Croix,
smarting under the blow, made a lunge at the minstrel, and ran him
through the body; his rapier entered a little below the right breast,
inflicting a wound that was almost immediately fatal. De Croix was now
in a very serious position, for not only was the man dead, but he had
died before he could be confessed and shriven, consequently the young
Seigneur had to answer for the perdition[51] of his soul, as well as
the destruction of his body! We are left to imagine the hurried council
held in the market-place by the seigneurs; how the swiftest horse was
saddled, and de Croix rode forth into the night to escape for his life.
The French frontier was not far distant, and there probably he took
refuge. When the time came for trial at Lille, de Croix did not appear,
being afraid that the justice of the court would not be tempered with
mercy. Application was made to Charles V. for a pardon; the petition
was no doubt backed up by the influence of the Halluins, Ghiselins, and
other noble houses connected with the family of de Croix. At any rate
it was successful; and de Croix received a free pardon, on condition of
his paying all legal expenses, and compensating the family of the man
he had killed.
The scene preserved in this curious document furnishes a picture of a
seigneur’s life in the country, and conveys some idea of the tone of
the society from which Busbecq went forth to sketch the manners and
customs of the East.
George Ghiselin II. died in 1561, leaving three legitimate children,
(1) Jean Ghiselin, Seigneur of Bousbecque, whose name[52] is found
amongst the signatures appended to a remonstrance addressed by the
Estates of Lille to Margaret of Parma, against the decrees she had
issued for enforcing the edicts of Charles V. for the suppression of
heresy. He died childless, November 1578; (2), Marguerite Jacqueline
Ghiselin, married November 28, 1565, to Jean Baptiste de Thiennes,
Seigneur of Willersies; she died March 27, 1611. (3), Agnes Ghiselin,
who succeeded her brother Jean in the seigneury of Bousbecque. She
married Jacques Yedeghem, Seigneur of Wieze, captain, governor, and
high bailiff of Termonde (Dendermonde).
These last had a son, Charles de Yedeghem, who became Seigneur of
Bousbecque; from him, his uncle, the Ambassador, on December 18, 1587,
bought a life-interest in the seigneury.[53]
_Ogier Ghiselin de Busbecq._
Besides the children born in lawful wedlock, George Ghiselin II. had,
by Catherine Hespiel,[54] an illegitimate son, who is the subject of
this memoir, Ogier Ghiselin de Busbecq. The mother was an unmarried
woman, in a humble position of life, and is supposed to have been a
servant at the Bousbecque château. If this was the case, there is
nothing surprising in the fact that she was at Comines when her son was
born, in 1522; for it is hardly likely that her mistress would allow
her to remain an inmate of the Seigneur’s house. In justice to George
Ghiselin himself, it must be remembered that the standard of morality
in Flanders, with regard to such connections, was not high, as is shown
by Motley’s[55] description of a seigneur’s privileges in old times;
and also by the fact that up to a late date they retained the right
of legitimating their bastard children. At any rate, his conduct as
a father was unimpeachable; he received the little fellow into his
château, and gave him an excellent education.
From considerations already stated, it is impossible to doubt that
Busbecq came under the influence of George Halluin. He must often have
been found in the famous library[56] of the Seigneur of Comines, with
his head buried in some weighty folio; thither, no doubt, he brought
the botanical specimens he had discovered in the woods and fields of
Bousbecque, and the Roman coins he had unearthed at Wervicq. From his
kind patron he must have heard of the great Erasmus, of Melancthon,
Thomas More, and other leaders of that age. One can picture to oneself
how Ogier may have questioned him as to Luther, and asked how it was
that he and Erasmus were so far apart, when they agreed so heartily
in detesting the greed and superstition of the monks. ‘My boy,’[57]
one can imagine George Halluin saying, ‘when your grandsire, Gilles
Ghiselin, was about to restore the Bousbecque château, he took me to
see the old place. The great hall was well-nigh perfect, and all the
windows had been closed with boards. On entering, we found it had been
made a home for the owl and the bat; the creatures flew up against me;
and as I tried to escape, I stumbled over the rubbish, and fell on the
floor, which was covered with filth. I was so disgusted that I would
fain have persuaded your grandfather to leave the old place to its
present occupants, and build a fair castle at some little distance; but
he laughed at my boyish fancy, saying it were foul scorn that he should
be ousted from the roof of his ancestors by a set of night-birds.
He called in his men, the windows were unbarred, and broad streams
of light poured into the hall. Then might you have seen owl and bat
shrinking from the bright sunbeams; thenceforth the Bousbecque hall was
no resting-place for them, for they love not to roost save where there
is perpetual darkness and night.[58] Here is my parable, Ogier; Luther
would quit our Church because of the many corruptions and abuses that
have crept in; he would leave the monks to their darkness, and build
himself a brand-new chapel after his own design. Erasmus would count
it shame to allow such night-birds to deprive him of his inheritance
in the Church. He would do what your grandsire did, open the windows
and pour in the light; that is a power against which neither monks
nor bats can stand.’ ‘But where is the light,’ says Ogier, ‘and where
are the windows?’ ‘There,’ replies the Seigneur, pointing to his
well-stored shelves, ‘there is the light of antiquity, which will chase
the night-birds from our Church. Never think, Ogier, that the Bible
is the only revelation of God; all knowledge comes from him. Seneca,
who never read a word of the Bible, can help us to the truth; and if
it be the truth, it is God’s truth, as much as if it had been uttered
by inspired lips. I will tell you a secret, boy; you remember the old
line, “Fas est et ab hoste doceri.” The drones in the monasteries have,
like other animals, that intuitive knowledge which tells them what is
fatal to their existence; so we may learn from them their vulnerable
part. Erasmus has said many hard things of them, but that is not the
chief reason of their hate. What is it then? _It is because he has sent
the world to school with Greece and Rome for its masters._[59] Just as
the owls and bats in your grandsire’s hall might have held their own
had we attacked them with sticks and stones, but shrank discomfited
before the light of day, so the monks might battle against downright
attacks, but they know that the light of antiquity must drive them
from their roosts. My ancestors have left their mark on the history
of Flanders; but I doubt whether they ever discharged a more glorious
office than that which fell to me when I undertook the translation of
the great satire which Erasmus[60] dedicated to Sir Thomas More. I
once spoke of it to my friend. He shook his head. “You have brought
me, my dearest George, into some trouble with your translation; it is
too good; it seems incredible, but the lazy crew positively understand
it. No, no, stick to your Virgil; they cannot attack me about it; and,
between ourselves, you will frighten them much more.” As he said to me,
so I say to you, my dear young friend, leave religious questions alone;
they will right themselves, if we only let in the light.
‘And why should not you help in this work, Ogier? There are manuscripts
yet to be discovered, there are inscriptions yet to be copied, there
are coins of which no specimen has been garnered. Then there is the
great field of Nature before you; plants with rare virtues for healing
sicknesses, fruits that are good for food, flowers with sweet scents
and various hues. Why, again, should you not utilise the taste you have
for observing the habits of the animal world? Depend upon it, these
studies are intended by God for the improvement and advancement of the
human race. Let monk and sectary fight it out as they will; do you be
content to let in the light, and leave the rest to God.’