_Liberty at Last_
It was not until some five-and-thirty years after the tragic death of
'the Saviour of Brussels' that the common folk of that city at last
definitely obtained a direct voice in its government.
It was the old story. As it had been at Louvain so was it in the sister
city: the patricians were divided amongst themselves, that was the cause
of their overthrow. But if it was the old story, it was the old story
differently told. At Louvain the cruelty and oppression of the ruling
class and, above all, their incapacity and corruption, had sickened the
people of aristocratic rule and they were ripe for revolt. A little band
of patricians, partly from philanthropic motives, partly from private
spleen, espoused the popular cause and placed themselves at its head;
the Duke, for his own ends, connived at their proceedings, and after a
long and bloody struggle the result was, as we have seen, victory.
At Brussels it was otherwise. When the craftsmen of Brussels at last
obtained their hearts' desire, they had lived under an honest and
capable government for at least fifty years, and if they had no voice in
the legislature, they held the purse-strings and were thus indirectly
able to make their influence felt, nor were they altogether excluded
from offices of trust and emolument; and though, no doubt, they had not
abandoned the hope of one day obtaining direct representation in the
municipal senate, they seem to have so far acquiesced in the existing
state of things that they had no thought of taking violent measures to
change it. They were content to possess their souls in patience, and
they were not defrauded of their expectation. By-and-by the fascinating
dream of ages was a reality, and this was how it came about.
All that was best and all that was noblest in the three estates of
Brabant had joined hands against the Sovereign--a wanton boy led astray
by evil counsellors, who were squandering his wealth and the wealth of
his towns, and suffering the honour of Brabant to be dragged in the
dust; and when all seemed lost, when Brussels, betrayed by false
brethren, was filled with German mercenaries breathing out threatening
and slaughter, the energy and daring of the despised craftsmen had
turned defeat into victory. And when the battle was won and the land
once more had rest, these men received, by way of guerdon, the boon they
had so long craved for.
The skein of the story is a long and intricate one, but it is worth the
trouble of disentangling. It was during the reign of Duke John IV. that
these things happened. John was a scion of the house of Bourgogne, which
at this time was supreme in the Low Country, and as the events which we
are about to relate were in large measure the outcome of the ambitious
designs and selfish schemes of the Burgundians, it will be well for a
moment to consider their origin and the means by which they mounted to
power.[18]
[18] _See_ Genealogical Table IV.
The founder of the house was Philip of Valois, surnamed the Bold, a
younger son of King John of France, and, like many other great houses,
Court favour and a fortunate marriage were the foundation stones on
which it was built.
Marguerite of Maele, the childless widow of her kinsman Philip of
Rouvre, the last Duke of Burgundy of the old stock, was at this time the
most to be desired of the marriageable princesses of Europe: she was
young, beautiful, rich, heiress-apparent to the Counties of Flanders,
Burgundy, Rethel, Artois and Nevers, and the only representative of the
third generation of Duke John III. of Brabant. Among the princes who
aspired to her hand was Philip of Valois, on whom, shortly after the
death of her husband (1361), last of his race in the direct line, the
French King had conferred his duchy (1363). After long and tedious
negotiations and much haggling, for the Count of Flanders, her father,
and the King of France, who conducted them, regarded one another with
mutual distrust, the marriage treaty was signed (April 25, 1369), and in
due course the widow of the last Duke of Burgundy of the old stock
became the wife of the first Duke of the new dynasty (June 19, 1369).
A momentous marriage this, and one of which the consequences were far
reaching. By it were presently united--when Louis of Maele died (January
30, 1384)--the two most formidable fiefs of the French crown; and the
man who held them, a man of marvellous parts and vast ambition,
unscrupulous, cunning, bold, had all the prestige of a prince of the
blood, and, as the King's most trusted counsellor, all the resources of
France at his back.
IV.--Genealogical Table of the Dukes of Brabant from
John III. to Philip II.
$John III.$, _d._ Dec. 5, 1355
|
+----------+----------+--------+--------------------------------+
| | | |
Henry, Godfrey, $Jeanne$, = Winceslaus of Luxembourg, |
_d._ 1349 _d._ 1351 _d._ Dec. 1406 _d._ Dec. 8, 1383 |
|
|
Louis of Maele, Count of Flanders, _d._ Jan. 30, 1384 = Marguerite
(he inherited at the death of his mother, |
Marguerite, daughter of Philip V. of France, 1382, |
the Counties of Burgundy and Artois) |
|
+----------------------------------+
|
Philip of Rouvre, = Marguerite, = Philip of Valois, 4th son of John II.
Duke of Burgundy _d._ March | of France, who conferred on him
and Count of 16, 1405 | the Duchy of Burgundy in 1363,
Burgundy | _d._ April 27, 1404
(Franche-Comté) |
and Artois, _d._ 1361 |
+-------------------------+-----------------------------+----+
| | |
John the Fearless, Count of Flanders, = Marguerite, | |
Burgundy, etc., on the death of his | only daughter of | |
mother (1405), Duke of Burgundy on | Albert, Count of | |
the death of his father (1404), | Hainault and | |
resigned his interest in the Duchy of | Holland, | |
Brabant in favour of his brother | _d._ Jan 14, 1423 | |
Anthony, _d._ Sept. 10, 1419 | | |
| | |
+-------------------------------+ | |
| | |
| +------------------------------------------------+ |
| | |
| | +-----------------------+
| Marguerite = William, eldest son |
| _d._ March | of Albert, Count of |
| 8, 1441 | Hainault and Holland |
| | _d._ May 31, 1417 |
| | |
| | Jeanne de = $Anthony$, = Elizabeth = John the
| | Saint-Pol | _d._ Oct. of Goerlitz Pitiless,
| | daughter | 25, 1415 second son
| | of Waleran | of Albert
| | of | of Holland
| | Luxembourg | _d._ 1425
| | +-----------------+
| | |
| +-------+ +------+--------+
| | | |
| | | |
$Philip II.$ Jacqueline, Countess of = $John IV.$, |
(Philippe Hainault and Holland, _d._ April 17, |
l'Asseuré), abdicated 1433, 1427 |
Duke of _d._ April 9, 1436 |
Burgundy, |
Count of Burgundy, $Philip I.$
and Count of Flanders (Philippe de
from 1423, Duke of Saint-Pol),
Brabant from 1430, _d._ Aug. 4, 1430
and Count of Hainault
and Holland from 1433
It was thanks, indeed, to this last mighty asset that Philip was able to
prepare the way for the union of the Netherlands to the profit of his
own house. His intimate connection with France obtained for him the
friendship of Duchess Jeanne, always French in her sympathies, and
through her good offices he was able to marry his eldest son, John the
Fearless, and his eldest daughter, Marguerite, to the only daughter and
the eldest son of Albert of Bavaria, heir-apparent to Hainault, Holland
and Zeeland, and thus to secure these counties for one of his
descendants. The double marriage took place on the 12th of April 1385,
and it will be interesting to note that the prelate who gave the nuptial
blessing was no other than John T'Serclaes, Count Bishop of Cambrai, a
brother of 'the liberator of Brussels.' Again, when shortly after the
death of Duke Winceslaus (1385) war broke out between Brabant and
Gelderland, and Jeanne, hard pressed, appealed to Philip for aid, it was
with French troops and French gold that he was able to effectually help
her, and thus to inspire--his main object in complying with her
request--those sentiments of gratitude which later on, in 1390, induced
her to acknowledge the right of her sister's child, Marguerite of Maele,
to the reversion of her ancestral domains, and that, in spite of a
previous engagement: in 1357, when smarting under the insult of the
Flemish invasion, the work, as Jeanne firmly believed, of that same
sister, she had pledged her word to the Emperor Charles IV., her
husband's elder brother, that if she died childless her estate should
not go to Marguerite of Brabant or to her issue, but to Charles himself,
or, in his default, to his next-of-kin of the house of Luxembourg.
Thus much had French influence and French gold accomplished for the Duke
of Burgundy, but he was not yet sure of obtaining the prize which he so
much coveted. The burghers had something to say in the matter, and
sentiments of gratitude and the glamour of France had little influence
with them: they feared that the house of Burgundy would be too powerful
for the security of their privileges; and also they were being pressed
by Wenzel, King of the Romans, who claimed the reversion of Jeanne's
heritage in virtue of the compact of 1357, to make a declaration in his
favour. To neither claimant would they give a definite reply: it were
time enough, they said, to consider the matter after Jeanne's decease.
They were no doubt waiting to see which man would make the highest bid.
At last Philip cut the knot by compelling his eldest son John to
renounce his right to the succession in favour of his second son Anthony
(1393), whom Jeanne, in 1401, with the assent of her people, formally
acknowledged as her heir.
Nor was this all. At a meeting which took place at Paris, whither Jeanne
had gone (1396) to see once more before she died 'the Princes of the
_Fleurs-de-lis_,' she had arranged with Philip that young Anthony, now
twelve years old, should reside with her at Brussels in order that he
might thus learn to know the people over whom he would one day rule. No
small advantage: if anything should happen to Jeanne, who was now
seventy-four years of age, Anthony would be on the spot; but as weeks
turned into months and months into years, and still the old Duchess
clung to life, Philip began to tire of waiting and to wonder whether
after all the cup would be dashed from his hands as he was carrying it
to his lips.--If only Jeanne could be induced to abdicate, Anthony, who
was now nineteen, could at once grasp the reins of government.
Determined, if possible, to induce her to do so, he journeyed to
Brussels early in April 1404, and once more his efforts were crowned
with success.
[Illustration: Notre-Dame de Hal from Chapel behind North Transept]
It was his last triumph. In the midst of a sumptuous banquet (April 16,
1404) in honour of his son's inauguration as Regent of Brabant, he was
struck down by a fever which was at that time raging in the city. On the
ninth day after his seizure, when he was almost a dead man, at his own
request they carried him on a litter to Hal and lodged him at the Sign
of the Stag, hard by the church, then famous, as it is now, for its
miraculous image of Our Lady. He knew that he was past human aid, yet
haply, he thought, the prayers of the Mother of God might even now save
him; but the Angel of Death was inexorable, and towards nightfall on the
morrow the great founder of the house of Bourgogne passed quietly away
(April 27, 1404). His body was embalmed and carried to Dijon, and they
buried it in the Carthusian monastery which he himself had founded
there, but his heart was enclosed in a precious casket and laid up
before the altar of Our Lady at Hal.
Death was at this time busy with the great ones of the Netherlands.
Within eight months of Philip's demise (December 12, 1404), Albert of
Hainault and Holland was gathered to his fathers and his son William
reigned in his stead; shortly before the new Count's accession,
Marguerite de Bourgogne had given him a daughter (July 25, 1401),
Jacqueline, famed for her beauty and her misfortunes, whose tragic story
we shall presently tell. Three months later Marguerite of Maele joined
her husband, and their eldest son, _Jean sans Peur_, who the year before
had inherited from his father the county of Charolais and the duchy of
Burgundy, now added to his possessions the county of Burgundy and the
counties of Flanders and Artois. A personage to be reckoned with, this
little, huge-headed, flat-faced man, without grace and without address,
and who spoke so ill that his speech was almost unintelligible: he knew
what he wanted and he knew how to compass his ends; he had subtlety and
determination, and was untroubled with scruples. He strengthened his
bulwarks if he did not enlarge his borders, and he struck his roots deep
into the soil of the Netherlands; but the greatest thing he did for the
accomplishment of their union was to beget a son, to whom he
transmitted his great capabilities, if not his evil looks, and who
gathered in the harvest which his father and his grandfather had
sown--Philip, second of his name, whom men called the Good, a sort of
fifteenth century imperialist, whose acquaintance we shall make later
on.
On the 1st of December 1406, full of years and good works, died Duchess
Jeanne. She was the last of her generation, and the liberal traditions
of the house of Louvain died with her. She had outlived the man who had
so long plotted for her heritage well-nigh three years, and, as she had
wished, she was succeeded by her great-nephew Anthony. Though a brave
and chivalrous prince, his ideals were not the ideals of his subjects,
and in consequence he was always at loggerheads with them, but when he
was gathered to his fathers, struck down at Agincourt (October 25,
1415),[19] the evil days of his son John made Anthony regretted. Not
that John was a vicious man, but he was physically and morally weak--_de
petite et foible complexion_, as his secretary and intimate friend De
Dynter has it; and Chastelain: '_Peu estoit enclin au harnois, et avec
ce de féminin gouvernement, car en lui avoit peu de fait et peu de
malice. Et pour ce, aucuns estant entour luy, qui le réoient simple, le
gouvernèrent à leur prouffit et peu au sien, ne à ses pays._'[20] Herein
we have the source of the difficulties which continually beset his path,
difficulties of all kinds and with all sorts and conditions of
persons--with his clergy, his nobles, his burghers, his common folk,
and, within his own domestic circle, with his brother, his mother-in-law
and his wife. She was the greatest difficulty of all, and it would have
been marvellous indeed if his marriage had proved a happy one. What
could there have been in common with the indolent, feeble, dull-witted
John of Brabant and his brilliant and beautiful cousin Jacqueline, who
had inherited, with the shrewdness and the masterful will, all the
energy and all the daring of her mother's ambitious race? No more
ill-assorted match could well have been devised than that which William
of Holland urged with his last breath on his only daughter, the apple of
his eye, who at that time was a child-widow of sixteen. With his body
gangrened from the bite of a dog, and his mind confused with horror and
grief at the foul deed which six weeks before had deprived Jacqueline of
a husband, the dying man saw a pillar of strength in his poor little
rickety nephew. He knew that when he was gone she would need a
protector; he dreaded the cruel ambition of his brother, the Bishop of
Liége, who, he fondly believed, would hurl himself in vain against the
bedrock of the house of Bourgogne. Jacqueline herself had no such
illusion, her cousin of Brabant was known to her, her eyes were not
blinded by the glamour of his race, and she was convinced he would prove
a sorry champion. Moreover, she had loved the Dauphin, her first
husband, with whom she had been brought up, and the tragic circumstances
of his death--poisoned, as all men believed, by his uncle of
Orléans--had embittered her grief at his loss, and made her the less
inclined to hurry again into wedlock. But for all that the marriage took
place: the family council, held shortly after William's death at
Biervliet, in Zeeland (July 31, 1417), was unanimously in favour of it,
and in spite of her reluctance, and in spite of the opposition from
interested motives of the Bishop of Liége, the hapless Jacqueline was
presently constrained to give her hand to the poor stripling whom she
loathed.
[19] _See_ p. 289.
[20] _Chronique du Duc Philippe_, chap. lv.
On Sunday, the 1st of August 1417, John and Jacqueline publicly
plighted their troth, and it was arranged that they should be united in
wedlock as soon as the necessary dispensation could be obtained from the
Holy See. A matter this not easy of accomplishment, owing to the
opposition of the Bishop of Liége, who naturally objected to a marriage
intended to prevent his making good his claim to his niece's heritage,
to which he maintained he had the better right--Holland and Hainault, as
imperial fiefs, being not transmissible in the female line.
This man at the family council, dissembling his real intentions, had not
only acknowledged Jacqueline's right to the whole of her father's
dominions and approved of the proposed match, but had actually
volunteered himself to procure the requisite dispensation, and
afterwards he had prevailed on the men of Dordrecht to receive him as
their Sovereign; and from thence, on the 3rd of September, he had
secretly sent letters to Constance representing to the Fathers assembled
there for the purpose of electing a new Pontiff and other matters, that
if this incestuous union were sanctioned the country would be plunged in
civil war.
Appointed to the See of Liége in 1390, a dissolute boy of seventeen in
sub-deacon's orders, in spite of the reiterated protests of his canons
and to the no small scandal of his people, John the Pitiless had
persistently refused episcopal consecration. For a sub-deacon to be
freed from his vow of celibacy he knew was not impossible, perhaps, as
his enemies said, it was in his mind to found a house and convert the
ecclesiastical state over which he presided--a republic then in all but
the name, with a mitred figurehead for president--into a lay
principality to be handed down to his descendants. In any case, he would
preserve a free hand in view of political eventualities. For twelve
years the people waited, groaning under John's oppression, for one
after another he suppressed all their liberties, and shamed by his evil
life, and then, at the end of their patience, they hunted him out of the
town, and chose in his place a worthier man, Thierry, son of the Lord of
Perwys, who in due course received from Benedict XIII. episcopal
consecration. But John the Pitiless was not the man to accept defeat, he
appealed to his brother of Holland and to his brother-in-law of
Burgundy, and after a long and bitter struggle he was presently
reinstated. The last stand was made at Othée, in the plain of Russon, on
the 23rd of September 1408, when the men of Liége were utterly routed.
Amongst the eight thousand slain were Bishop Thierry and his father, the
Lord of Perwys. When all was over they found their dead bodies on the
battlefield, side by side and hand in hand. Better so, for John's fierce
triumph was a veritable orgie of blood. Such of his victims as were
laymen he beheaded or hanged, and he showed his pity for their daughters
and wives and his respect for the ecclesiastical state by casting the
women into the Meuse, and with them the canons whom Thierry had
appointed, and the priests whom he had ordained. Then it was that the
Liége men first called him _Jean sans Pitié_.
Such was the man who now professed himself so solicitous for the purity
of family life and so fearsome lest the loosening of ecclesiastical
discipline should have for its outcome war. But the Fathers of Constance
were in no way deceived by his specious pleading, and as soon as they
had chosen a Pope (Martin V.) the dispensation was accorded. John,
however, was not yet at the end of his resources; as a prudent man he
had taken care to have two strings to his bow: he had not only written
to the Fathers of Constance, but also to his friend the Emperor
Sigismond, who, as soon as he learnt that the brief had been
dispatched, compelled the Pope by threats of imprisonment to revoke it.
Embarrassing this, no doubt, to the agents of the Duke of Brabant, but
they seem to have been equal to the emergency; for the clerks whose duty
it was to affix the pontifical seal to the new rescript, dated
Constance, January 5, 1413, conveniently forgot to do so for several
days, and thus it came about that when at last it reached the interested
parties the marriage had already taken place.
Edmund De Dynter, Duke John's secretary, tells us how it all
happened:--Late on the evening of Thursday, March 10, 1413, the
dispensation arrived at the Hague, where the Courts of Holland and
Brabant and Burgundy had been anxiously awaiting it for over three
weeks. The same night John and Jacqueline privately plighted their
troth, and immediately after the ceremony, says Edmund De Dynter, who
seems to have been present, they were conducted to the bridal chamber.
Doubtless they had some inkling at the Hague of what had taken place at
Constance, but in reality there was no need for haste, the newly-married
couple had time to visit Mons and other towns of Hainault, where their
sovereign rights were acknowledged, and Jacqueline had been welcomed as
Duchess of Brabant at Brussels and Louvain and Bois-le-Duc before the
second rescript was placed in the hands of Duke John. Shortly afterwards
'two venerable masters in theology' arrived at the Coudenberg, where the
Court was now installed, bringing with them a sealed letter from Martin
V. informing John that he might give full credence to what the bearers
said. They told him that as the revocation had been extorted by force,
it was to be regarded as null and void, and that as soon as the Pope had
crossed the Alps and was out of the Emperor's power, he would dispatch a
third rescript confirmatory of the first. And the Pope was as good as
his word: in due course the promised letter arrived, dated Florence,
August 27, 1418.
Though baffled in the matter of his niece's marriage, John the Pitiless
had otherwise strengthened his position. The better to prosecute his
claim to her heritage he had resigned his See, obtained a dispensation
from his vow of celibacy, and married a rich widow--Elizabeth, Duchess
of Luxembourg, step-mother to John of Brabant. Shortly afterwards the
Emperor had publicly invested him with the disputed fiefs, and in
Holland at least, especially among the burghers of the great towns, he
had a very considerable following. Meanwhile he was still at Dordrecht,
and presently he felt himself strong enough to openly declare war
against Jacqueline and her husband.
The Estates of Brabant, well aware that in face of so redoubtable an
adversary half measures would be useless, urged the Duke to attack
Dordrecht by land and sea. John's counsellors, however, were of a
different opinion. The expedition, they said, must be conducted with due
regard to economy, and to expend money on ships were an altogether
unnecessary outlay; and thus it came about that the siege of Dordrecht
very soon had to be raised. John, who had at first taken the field, now
retired to Brussels; city after city and fortress after fortress fell
into the hands of his opponent; Philip of Burgundy, to whom his father,
John the Fearless, absent in Paris, had left the care of his affairs in
the Low Countries, offered his mediation, and a compromise was effected.
On the 13th of February 1419 the Duke of Brabant ceded in fief to John
the Pitiless a portion of his wife's domains, permitted him to take the
title of Regent, and paid him a handsome indemnity into the
bargain--100,000 English nobles.
The burghers of Brabant were enraged and disgusted, and Jacqueline was
beside herself with indignation, the more so as they and she had each a
personal and most intimate grievance against the men whose parsimony had
caused this shame. The burghers never forgot that for years past these
harpies had fattened at their expense, considering neither the interests
of the State, which they starved, nor of the Sovereign, whom they
cajoled and fleeced, for John never failed to apply to his towns
whenever he found himself short of cash; and Jacqueline believed what
was whispered at Court as to how the vilest of them, William of Assche,
erst treasurer of the ducal household, now amman of Brussels, and his
son-in-law, Everard T'Serclaes--the eldest son of the Deliverer--had
obtained the baneful influence which they exercised over her feeble
lord: Assche at the cost of his daughter's fair name, and T'Serclaes at
the sacrifice of his own honour and the honour of his wife. Poor little
John was bewitched seemingly by the charms of Lauretta of Assche, or at
all events Jacqueline thought so, and she was proportionately jealous.
But it was not these men, but that grasping old fox, Treasurer
Vandenberghe, who was the first to experience the people's wrath. 'Ever
swift to sweep in coin, and tardy, yea, of a truth most tardy, in the
matter of payments,'[21] he it was who had been the chief promoter of
the cheese-paring policy which had brought forth such disastrous
results, and hence he was condemned by the Estates to exile, and
declared to be for ever incapable of again holding office in Brabant.
Nor was this all: Brussels and Louvain informed the Duke that they would
grant him no further aid until the sentence had been carried out. It was
the first passage of arms in the great struggle between John and his
_bonnes villes_. The friends of the Duchess had been the first to
strike, but her opponents were not slow to hit back. At Brussels her
arch foe, William Assche, refused, quite illegally, to publish his
colleague's condemnation, but the aldermen made him pay for it: they
would no longer acknowledge him as amman, and flung him into gaol. Of
the whole college one member only withheld his assent--Everard
T'Serclaes, and in consequence he was declared to have forfeited his
rights of _lignage_ and to be for ever incapable of holding municipal
office.
[21] De Dynter, c. 161.
Meanwhile John and the Treasurer had betaken themselves to Mons, where
the latter presently endured a worse punishment than exile: on the 23rd
of March 1419, during the absence of the Duke and the Duchess hawking,
Vandenberghe, sick and slumbering in his chamber, 'was suddenly aroused
by the bastards of Holland' (Jacqueline's natural brothers), 'who very
soon sent him to sleep again, and so soundly that no man shall ever wake
him more; for without any respite they struck him stone dead, and
forthwith went their way.' 'Spite,' says Secretary De Dynter, 'because
he had stopped their pensions'; and Monstrelet adds, 'The Duchess,
according to common report, was a sufficiently consenting party to what
her brethren had done.'
Be this as it may, the removal of Vandenberghe was certainly, for the
moment, of advantage to Jacqueline and her friends. For three days John
was inconsolable, but at the expiration of that time his Duchess managed
to appease him, and Rotslaere, a man devoted to the popular cause, was
appointed Treasurer of Brabant (April 12, 1419). Maybe that John, in
acting thus, was dissembling to gain time; maybe that, brooding over his
wrongs alone (for shortly after the murder the ducal couple had
separated), he was presently impelled to go back on his decision;
certain it is that within a month after their appointment the new
ministers were dismissed.
Before the end of April the Court had returned to Brabant: Jacqueline to
Vilvorde, and John, cast down and restless, flitting from place to
place--sometimes at Tervueren, sometimes at Antwerp, never at Brussels,
where Assche was still in prison, at last he found himself at
Bois-le-Duc, and by that time he had made up his mind.
The 15th of May 1419 was a noteworthy day in the life of Duke John of
Brabant. Between sunrise and sunset he accomplished several things, and
experienced some sensations of a sufficiently varied and exciting nature
for a nervous youth of delicate constitution:--A morning ride from
Bois-le-Duc to Crayenhem, unknown to Rotslaere--_grandement embesogné_,
good man, _et moult esbahis_, when presently he heard of it; a secret
meeting there with former counsellors, at which a plan was devised for
taming Jacqueline; a journey next to Vilvorde, and there, beneath her
windows, insulting proclamation, outcome of the morning conclave; then,
swift flight to Tervueren to escape the consequences; and then--grand
finale, when he flattered himself he had reached cover, the hurricane of
his wife's indignation burst over his head; for Jacqueline, when she saw
her lord departing, had at once taken horse, accompanied by one lady and
three servants, and reaching Tervueren almost before he had recovered
his breath, she forced her way into his chamber in spite of the
remonstrance of the guard, and there, in the presence of his favourites,
rated him soundly for two good hours. And Jacqueline had reason to be
discontented, for Rotslaere and her friends had fallen, and the corrupt
sycophants, who had been the cause of all her miseries, were once more
in power, and, worse still, her own personal attendants--the Dutch
ladies, whom she loved and who had served her all her life--had been
summarily ordered to pack up their baggage and get themselves back to
Holland. And who were the women who were to take their place? 'The
noblest and best in the land,' said John. And no doubt he thought so:
they were the wives and daughters of his boon companions, and amongst
them was Lauretta of Assche.
Though John displayed admirable firmness so long as his wife confined
herself to tears and supplication, he quailed before the bitter
invective which his heartlessness presently called forth; and if it had
not been for his fear of a like scene with Lauretta, maybe the Duchess
would have carried the day. As it was, she was fain to content herself
with her lord's reluctant consent to her retaining four of her women,
and there, for the moment, the affair ended.
Meanwhile matters were not mending at Brussels. Assche was still in
prison, and neither John's threats nor entreaties could induce the
burghers to release him; and presently, when election time came round
and the patricians as usual sent in their triple list of candidates, the
Duke, by way of retaliation, refused to make any appointments, and for
three weeks the city was without magistrates. At last, thanks to the
good offices of Antwerp and Louvain, a compromise was effected, which
was in reality a triumph for Brussels. John, indeed, obtained the
release of his friend, but he was not reinstated in office, and John
Taye, who now became amman, was a _persona grata_ to the burghers. Nor
was this all: the city obtained a new charter, by which it was ordained
that henceforth a deputy amman should always be appointed, who, in the
event of the amman's refusal to act, or if he performed his duties ill,
would be competent to act for him; that if the deputy, in his turn,
failed to give satisfaction, the aldermen could replace him by a more
suitable person; and that if in future any Sovereign should refuse to
appoint magistrates, the outgoing magistrates might themselves name
their successors.
Notwithstanding that peace had thus been patched up between John and the
men of Brussels, his heart was so filled with resentment that he could
not prevail upon himself to return to the Coudenberg till six months
later, and shortly afterwards came the final rupture with Jacqueline.
It happened thus. Hardly a year had passed since the signing of the
Treaty of Gorcum (February 13, 1419), when John the Pitiless, again
growing restive, began to demand fresh concessions and to threaten that
if they were not granted Brabant would be drenched in blood. So eager
was the Duke to avert war that he did not hesitate to invest him with
the regency of Holland and Zeeland for a period of twelve years, and to
cede to him also the lordships of Antwerp and Herenthals--dependencies
these last of the duchy of Brabant.
Whilst Duke John was thus weakly disposing of his own and of his wife's
property, his faithful henchman, Everard T'Serclaes, now steward of the
ducal household, was racking his brains as to how he might rid the Court
of Jacqueline's Dutch ladies. By so doing he would confer a boon on his
master, and, matter of greater moment, gratify his own spleen, for his
hatred of the Duchess was commensurate with the injury which he had done
her, and with the contempt which she openly showed for him. After much
thought, he came to the conclusion that the best plan would be to starve
them out, and under pretext of thrift, for the household expenses, he
said, were extremely heavy, he refused henceforth to make any provision
for their maintenance.
Jacqueline had just heard of the new treaty and was in no mood to brook
further outrage. The meanness and pettiness of this last insult cut her
to the quick, and she resented it with the pride and energy natural to
her character. Marguerite of Burgundy, who had sought out John and
remonstrated with him in vain, had withdrawn in tears to an inn called
_Le Miroir_ in the _rue de la Montagne_, and Jacqueline, after a violent
scene with her husband, fled from the Court to her mother's lodgings. No
effort was made to recall her, and next morning the two ladies left
Brussels for the Castle of Quesnoy in Hainault, where Jacqueline was
still Sovereign. This was early in May 1420.
When it became known that the Duchess had gone, throughout the length
and breadth of the land there was a widespread feeling of indignation,
which, however, seems to have been at first stronger in some places than
in others, and, generally speaking, the rural districts, influenced as
they were by the feudal lords--almost all of them, from sentiments of
chivalry, ardent partisans of Jacqueline, were more hostile than the
towns. At Bois-le-Duc, indeed, John's adherents were sufficiently
numerous and influential to insure the loyalty of the city throughout
the contest which was now impending; Antwerp, for a time, also refrained
from active hostility, and so, too, Brussels. The common folk had
'wondered and wept' when they saw Jacqueline leaving the palace in tears
and on foot, and attended by only one serving-man, and the heartless
boy, who had driven her from home, had long ago forfeited their
confidence and respect, but at Brussels the common folk did not yet
count, and the patricians, though many of them shared their sentiments,
were for the most part loth to quarrel again with their best customer;
for the cloth trade was waning in face of English competition, and the
Court was now the mainstay of their prosperity.
At Louvain it was otherwise. The Dukes of Brabant had long since
forsaken the cradle of their race, the tradesmen of the capital had
little to gain and little to lose from the smiles or the evil looks of
the occupant of the throne, and their judgment was not warped by
self-interest. Moreover, at Louvain, the people--always eager to resent
injustice and to champion the cause of the weak, were directly and
largely represented in the municipal senate, and a healthier, manlier,
more independent spirit pervaded the whole town. Nowhere in the duchy of
Brabant was John's unworthy conduct held in greater contempt, nowhere
were men more firmly determined to deliver him from the evil counsellors
who, for their own ends, had prompted it, and the burghers of Louvain,
to their honour, took the first step in this direction.
Shortly after Jacqueline's flight John, again short of cash, had
summoned the Estates of Brabant to meet at Brussels, and the aldermen of
Louvain, knowing very well that liberty could hardly be assured in the
Court city, utterly ignored John's invitation and invited the Estates on
the same day to assemble in their own town. It was a bold step, but the
issue proved the wisdom of it: when the appointed day arrived a few
stragglers from Antwerp and Bois-le-Duc betook themselves to Brussels,
and representatives of the first and second order from all parts of the
duchy flocked into the capital. They found it in a greater state of
commotion than any of them had anticipated, for news had just come to
hand of a fresh act of tyranny--the Duke had presumed to violate one of
the oldest and most cherished privileges of the time-honoured Church of
Saint Peter.
Thus: Sieger, chief of the house of Heetvelde, was one of the mightiest
nobles of Brabant in the far-off days of Duchess Jeanne, with whom he
claimed kinship, for he traced his descent to a natural son of the great
house of Gaesbeke, a legitimate though younger branch of the reigning
family. The Van Heetveldes, in the course of ages, had acquired estates
and manorial rights in all parts of the duchy; they were patricians,
too, of Louvain, for a Heetvelde of bygone days had married a daughter
of that city, and the status of patrician, unlike that of the feudal
lord, was transmissible in the female line. Invested with all the rights
and privileges of the various orders to which he belonged, at Brussels,
where he habitually resided, old Sieger was too mighty a man to be
loved; five _lignages_ banded together against him, and one morning he
was found in the Grand' Place with his throat cut. Who was the actual
murderer was never known, but Sieger's sons suspected a patrician called
Nicholas de Swaef, and publicly charged him with the crime, and hence
there arose a feud between the family of the murdered man and the family
of the man who, as he had sworn, had been falsely accused of the murder.
For years the streets of Brussels were the scene of their bloody
conflicts. In vain the burghers of Louvain joined their efforts to the
burghers of Brussels as mediators. At their instance Duchess Jeanne
ordained that the quarrel should be forgotten, menacing with death any
man who should venture to reopen it; but her threats were wholly
disregarded, and after twenty years the Heetveldes and the
Vanderstraetens[22] were still flying at one another's throats. At last,
about Easter 1417, the belligerents agreed to accept the arbitration of
Duke John IV., provided he gave his decision within a twelvemonth. For
some reason or other he neglected to do so, and it was not till the 20th
of June 1420 that he summoned the brothers Heetvelde to his presence and
informed them that he was about to pronounce judgment. To this they
demurred, on the ground that the stipulated time had long since gone by.
Whatever may have been the case three years before, the Vanderstraetens
were now John's friends and the Heetveldes among his bitterest
opponents, and naturally enough the latter feared he would not hold the
scales of justice evenly. Whereat John sentenced them, there and then,
to banishment as contumacious, and the Heetveldes, instead of
submitting, fled to Louvain. They were Petermen, they said, and as such
subject only to their own tribunal. What wonder, then, that the anger of
the burghers blazed more fiercely than ever, or that the Estates, to
which the Heetveldes had appealed, quashed the iniquitous sentence, and
forthwith informed the Duke that no fresh aid would be granted until
their grievances had been redressed. The miscreants who had deprived
Jacqueline of her heritage, driven her from Brabant, wasted the
resources of the realm, and who had not even feared to flout Saint
Peter, must first be dismissed from office. Nor did John dare to refuse,
but the men whom he named to take their places made his former
counsellers regretted: amongst them was Everard T'Serclaes, the _fons et
origo_ of all the mischief. Whereat the Estates, convinced that it was
hopeless to expect reform so long as John remained in power, did two
things--they sent letters to 'Madame the Duchess of Brabant and to
Madame the Widow, her mother,' proposing co-operation, and by 'the
vigour of the replies which they presently received were greatly
consoled and comforted'; and they despatched 'Friar Edmond' to Paris to
bring home the Count of Saint-Pol. And in this too they were successful,
for although the Duke, getting wind of it, had immediately written to
his brother urging him not to come, Friar Edmond proved himself the
better diplomatist, and on the 10th of September returned to Louvain,
bringing the young prince with him. Shortly afterwards came ambassadors
from the King of France and from the Duke of Burgundy with a mission
'to appease the strife which had arisen between Duke John of Brabant, on
the one part, and Madame the Duchess and Madame the Widow, and the
nobles and the good towns of Brabant, on the other'; and, better still,
a few days later came 'Madame Jaque herself and Madame her mother,' and
then, after much confabulation and much coming and going between
Brussels and Louvain, a conference was arranged at Vilvorde for Sunday
the 29th of September. Thither, on the appointed day, came the allies
from Louvain, with 'Madame Jaque and My Lord of Saint-Pol' at their
head. But Duke John did not come. Hardly safe at Brussels, where his
friends had still the upper hand, he was far too wise to attend a
meeting in a town where he knew his opponents were more numerous than
his partisans. Excusing himself on the ground of indisposition, he kept
close house, and at nightfall on the morrow stealthily crept out into
the darkness and slipped away. To cover his flight Everard T'Serclaes
gave out that the Duke was too ill to see anyone but a couple of trusty
serving-men, who were in the secret, and who carried his supper into his
bedchamber after his departure, as if he were still there, whereas in
reality he had fled with the Lord of Ashe and four others, who led him
by circuitous routes to Bois-le-Duc.
[22] These men seem to have been near kinsmen of Nicholas de Swaef.
As soon as it was publicly known that John had left the city, the
Assembly at Vilvorde, by the advice of the French ambassador, conferred
the government on Philip of Saint-Pol, who on the following day (October
2), along with Jacqueline, her mother and the Estates, triumphantly
entered Brussels.[23]
[23] _See_ De Dynter.
Five months before the Duchess of Brabant had left her home, accompanied
only by a humble serving-lad. As she wended her way through the muddy
streets to her mother's lodging in the _rue de la Montagne_ the few
stragglers who recognised her had stood silent as she passed, in
sympathy and respect at her humiliation; and now she returned in triumph
at the head of a brilliant cavalcade of churchmen, and knights and
burghers; and the people welcomed her with shouts of acclamation, and
with trumpets and clashing bells.
How different too was her position in the palace to what it had been in
former days. The fears of her poor little husband had compelled him to
leave it trembling, disguised, under cover of night, and by a back door,
in more pitiable condition almost than she had been when she had fled
from the Coudenberg. And the man without heart and without soul, who,
having robbed her of her husband's affection, thought it almost an
honourable thing to stoop to the pettiness of depriving her ladies of
their dinner, he, too, had gone the way of his master and his dupe, and
of the corrupt crew whose pride and debauchery had in days of yore
rendered her life intolerable, not one was left within the walls of the
Coudenberg.
She was now in the midst of friends and attended by her own people. Her
will was law. She was Sovereign, and, such was the chivalrous devotion
of the men who had rescued and restored her, that in the ardour of their
first enthusiasm they placed her interests before their own. At the
solemn assembly which took place next day in the Town Hall the Estates
unanimously decided to forthwith equip an expedition to wrest from John
the Pitiless 'the possessions of the Duchess which her husband had
abandoned to him without her consent.' Soon a great host was assembled
at Breda, hard by the cities it had been decided, in the first place, to
take. Knights from every lordship in Brabant were there, and armed
burghers from every town save Bois-le-Duc, and Jacqueline herself was in
the midst of them.
On the 16th of October she was at the gates of Heusden. The city
surrendered without a blow, and the next day she was solemnly enthroned
there as Duchess of Brabant. Four days later she sat down before
Gertruidenberg. On Saint Martin's Day the city went up in flames, and on
the 24th of November, flushed with victory, she returned at the head of
her troops to Brussels.
It was her last triumph. For a brief space her star had been in the
ascendant, and now it was already beginning to wane. Henceforth sorrow
was to dog her heel, and ill-fortune to confront her at every turn. The
Estates were again sitting, sometimes in the Coudenberg, sometimes in
the Town Hall, but the prelates and knights and burghers assembled had
other food for discussion than Jacqueline's Dutch affairs--the country
was threatened with invasion, perhaps with civil war: John at
Bois-le-Duc was hatching mischief. What particular form his mischief
would take no man could tell, not even the Duke himself, for he inclined
sometimes to one scheme, sometimes to another. All that was certainly
known was that he was endeavouring to recruit an army in the land
between the Meuse and the Rhine, that men of adventure were flocking to
his standard from the hope of obtaining loot, and that he had turned a
deaf ear to the deputation which the Regent had sent to Bois-le-Duc to
entreat him to desist from his evil designs. At Brussels amongst the
patricians he was known to have a considerable following, though many of
them dissembled their true sentiments. Several of the aldermen were
suspected of disaffection: at best they were but half-hearted patriots,
and Amman Cluting was known to be the Duke's man, and was divested of
his office in consequence.
Winter was coming on, and the city was filled with distress, for at any
moment the land might be plunged in the horrors of civil war, and
business was at a standstill. All that could be done had been done:
Philip had issued a proclamation in which he declared that at the
request of the Estates he had undertaken the government during the
absence of his brother, and the Estates, in their turn, had addressed a
letter to the nobles and the cities of Brabant informing them of the
motives which had inspired their action. There was nothing for it but to
await the issue of events. But inaction to one of Jacqueline's keen and
impetuous nature was altogether impossible, and shortly after the
failure of the Regent's negotiations with John, she set out with Madame
the Widow for Valenciennes. The men of Brabant were unable to help her;
she must seek assistance elsewhere. Philip of Burgundy was impossible:
he was playing his own game. The King of France was his puppet; there
was nothing to be done with him. Someone suggested England, and
presently, unknown to her mother, she flitted across the Channel,
determined to enlist the sympathy of her distant kinsman, King Henry V.
Better had she remained in Brabant: if only she could have possessed her
soul in patience she might have accomplished something.
Meanwhile at Brussels and throughout Brabant the air was thick with
rumours. What would the morrow bring forth? All trade was at a
standstill, it was the last month of the year and the empty stomachs of
men without work were already beginning to shrink from the grip of
winter. Every honest burgher as he turned into his bed at night was
firmly convinced that the tocsin would clang before dawn, and in the
morning he was no less sure that something untoward would happen before
sundown. For six weary weeks the good town of Brussels was on
tenterhooks, and then, on the 20th of January 1421, she was basely
betrayed into the hands of the enemy by her own magistrates.
It was common knowledge that some of the patricians were disaffected,
but no one imagined how far the evil had really spread until John
appeared before the Louvain gate with an army of Germans. Then the
renegades hoisted their true colours and then it was known for the first
time that no less than four of the patrician clans had cast in their lot
with his; and though the remaining three were composed for the most part
of good patriots, their representatives in the city council, flustered
and dismayed at the situation which had thus been suddenly sprung on
them, after some feeble show at resistance, yielded to their more
energetic colleagues.
These men had for weeks past been in correspondence with John, and had
arranged all the details of the plot at a secret meeting held in the
Vroente a few nights before, and when the Duke and his party arrived at
Tervueren early on the morning of the 21st of January, ex-Amman Cluting
and three of the confederate aldermen were there to receive him. When
John, as had been previously arranged, had re-invested Cluting with his
wand of office, the conspirators informed him that he would find no
difficulty in entering the city by the Porte de Louvain, for Alderman
Kegel was in command there and he would at once admit him; and having
delivered their message they returned to Brussels to make ready for his
reception. What, then, was the surprise of the ducal party when
presently they reached the appointed gate and found it shut! Some of the
more faint-hearted were for turning back, others for forcing an
entrance, but that was found to be impossible. Others again, not knowing
what to do, eased their minds by cursing the lying burghers who had
betrayed them. 'Gentle Knight,' crooned a hag, who had vainly asked for
alms of the Lord of Heinsberg, loudest in fierce declamation, 'gentle
Knight, do not worry yourself about entering the city, but when once you
are within consider well how best you may come out again.' He took
little heed at the time, says De Dynter, but later on he called to mind
what the old woman had said.
In reality Amman Cluting and his friends had not broken faith with John,
but when they reached Brussels they found that the news of his arrival
at Tervueren had preceded them and that the city was in a state of
uproar. Kegel had been removed from the Porte de Louvain, the Regent had
just ordered all the gates to be shut, and a meeting of the Grand
Council was actually taking place in the Town Hall. Thither, then, the
conspirators turned their horses' heads, and their arrival in the
Council Chamber was the signal for a stormy scene. At first the
magistrates of the Regent's faction hardened their hearts and stiffened
their backs--no power on earth should persuade them to consent to the
Duke's return, but their opponents were many and blustering, and they
were weak-kneed and few. Presently they began to hesitate, and at last,
when they accepted a compromise which was in reality a surrender, they
flattered themselves that their firmness had saved the situation.
The meeting had lasted the best part of the day, and darkness was
falling on the good town of Brussels when her aldermen, arrayed in robes
of state, solemnly went forth to the great act of betrayal.
[Illustration: THE TOWN HALL, BRUSSELS.]
Wending their way by the Rue de la Montagne, Saint Gudule's, and the
road which skirted the northern side of the park--then a great wood well
stocked with game and extending right up to the ramparts--they presently
reached the gate outside which John had been kicking his heels, as De
Dynter says, for more than two hours, and in due course made known to
him the result of their deliberations The Duke, they said, was free to
enter the city provided he would limit his escort to a hundred and
twenty men, amongst whom there must be no foreigner or no public enemy
of the State. John passed his word, the gates were thrown open, a
hundred and twenty knights rode in, and then the command rang out for
the rest to follow. Some of the bystanders were for resistance, but the
renegades succeeded in restraining them. Quick as thought the whole army
dashed up to the Coudenberg, and presently the Count of Saint-Pol rode
quietly off to Louvain.
[Illustration: OLD HOUSES NEAR SAINT GUDULE'S.]
Next morning the Duke went down to the Town Hall, where a great crowd of
aldermen, councillors, deans of trade companies and other civic
officials were expecting him. His policy, he told them, was one of
general appeasement, and he would fain have their co-operation; but
though no sign of dissent was made he was filled with misgiving. What if
his brother Philip should return with reinforcements? And presently he
summoned the aldermen to the palace and demanded of them the course
which in that event they would pursue. Their answer was a politic
one--if the Duke distrusted them they were quite ready to hand him the
keys of the city gates, but John would not hear of it. He was well
assured, he said, of their loyalty.
In reality the greatest source of danger was not from without but from
within--in the growing discontent of the people at the greed and
arrogance of 'these foreign _gens de guerre_,' who galloped through the
streets with their swords drawn as if Brussels were a conquered town,
and who openly bragged in hostel and tavern that they would not go back
to Germany till they were all rich men, aye, and that they meant to have
not only the goods, but the wives and the daughters of a host of wealthy
citizens whom it was the Duke's intention, so they averred, to presently
hang. What wonder then, when this state of things had been going on for
the best part of a week, that a serving-maid, who perceived a lighted
candle in the window of a certain foreign knight at an hour when all
honest men should be a-bed, clean lost her wits, and ran up screaming to
call her master; or that he, good man, when he had plucked up his
courage to peer in at the casement, and with his own eyes had seen the
knight arming, ran off at the top of his speed to tell the magistrates
that a plot was on foot to murder all the burghers; or that they, no
less scared than he, put a double guard at the city gates; or that a
great host of craftsmen soon appeared in the Grand' Place armed and
angry: and perhaps too they had reason. De Dynter is by no means sure
that the alleged plot was altogether imaginary. 'As to the aforesaid
conspiracy,' he says, 'it was found from information received, that the
Germans that night went to bed in their armour, and hence the
_Communaulté_ held that the fact was sufficiently proven; but they, the
Germans, on the other hand, denied all knowledge of it, alleging that
they had only armed, when they heard the roar of the mob, not knowing
what might be going to happen; and I, for my part, have not been able to
discover the truth of the matter, and hence I can only note down what
each party said.' Several of John's partisans, who afterwards fell into
the hands of the Regent, not only acknowledged, albeit under torture,
that a massacre had been in contemplation, but divulged its object,
adding names and details: some fifteen hundred German knights, with
Heinsberg and Amman Cluting at their head, were to rise at a given
signal--the sounding of the bell of _Saint Jacques sur Coudenberg_,
seize the Town Hall, and, having thus made themselves masters of the
city, arrest all the popular leaders and put them to death. The object
being to break up Philip's party at Brussels before he had time to
return with the reinforcements which he had gone to seek at Louvain.
Be this as it may, so firmly convinced were the craftsmen that some
great catastrophe was impending that they all turned out in the middle
of Monday night, as we have seen, determined, if need be, to sell their
lives dearly. So fierce and so threatening was their attitude, and so
alarming were the rumours which presently reached the palace, that about
eleven o'clock Duke John, who was not without courage in moments of
emergency, determined to go forth himself and do what he could to calm
the storm, but his efforts were met with shouts of derision; as he rode
round the market from guild to guild, begging the rioters to go home to
bed, and assuring them they had no cause for fear, 'Go home to bed
yourself,' they cried, 'and sleep well; your own fears are groundless,
not one of us would harm a hair of your head,' and they probably spoke
the truth, for though his subjects despised him and detested his methods
of government, John himself was not personally unpopular. Indeed, the
people regarded him rather with pity than hatred, for, after all, he was
but a poor little puppet, the men who pulled the strings were alone to
blame. They were soon to have their reward, but not to-night: it was not
until Wednesday morning that a great mob of armed craftsmen came surging
up to the palace. John faced them. 'Why this tumult? What did it mean?'
'Heinsberg, and they meant to have him.' And soon Heinsberg was led
forth, for there was no denying them, and, oh! the irony of it, by his
fellow-conspirator, Cluting. It was the amman's last official act: two
days later he was himself arrested, and afterwards endured, as we shall
see, a worse fate than the man whom he now handed over to the aldermen,
who, like their chief, had changed sides, to be dragged in chains to
prison. Before noon every German in Brussels was taken: the knights
fettered and cast into gaol, their followers stripped and with only a
few rags to cover them turned loose into the winter fields, and towards
dusk the cheering of the mob and the bells from a hundred steeples
announced Philip's arrival with a great army of nobles from the
countryside, and of burghers from Louvain and Antwerp.
That night the craftsmen of Brussels were in a wild frenzy of
gladness--not only on account of their triumph, but because they knew
that the wine for which they had so long thirsted, the glorious wine of
liberty, would soon be gurgling down their throats; the fragrance of its
bouquet already filled their nostrils and they were drunk in
anticipation. Philip had hailed them as the saviours of Brabant, and he
would never refuse to strong men flushed with victory the wages they had
justly earned. Let patricians do what they would, self-government was
now assured to them.
As a matter of fact, it was not in the power of the patricians, split
up as they were into hostile factions, to offer opposition to anyone.
The clans which had triumphed and which, had they been left to their own
resources, would have been utterly wiped out, were bound hand and foot
to the plebeian allies who had rescued them and given them the victory.
Their vanquished opponents, utterly cowed, were considering only how
best they might escape the consequences of their indiscretion. From
these men, then, there was nothing to fear.
On the night of Philip's coming some of the most deeply implicated,
amongst them Alderman Kegel and old William of Assche, desperate in the
belief that if they remained in Brussels their doom was fixed, taking
their lives in their hands sallied forth boldly into the streets, and
passing through the crowd, unnoticed in the darkness and confusion,
succeeded in gaining the open country and a place of refuge till the
storm had passed. The rest, trembling behind barred doors and windows,
expected each moment to be dragged forth and torn in pieces by an
infuriated mob--phantom peril, offspring of their conscious guilt. The
city, given over to rejoicing, was content to leave vengeance in
Philip's hands, and Philip, good man, wearied out with the day's
travail, had retired to bed. It was not until the morrow, after dinner,
that he proceeded with a small escort to the Coudenberg and put all, or
nearly all, of the members of the ducal household under arrest. The
greater number, however, were set at liberty the same day, though none
of them were reinstated in office. Indeed, in dealing not only with
these men, but with the burghers who had opposed him, Philip certainly
acted with singular moderation. His policy seems to have been to strike
at the leaders only, and that, with no undue harshness, and to suffer
the small fry to go scot-free.
Though the number of persons concerned in one or other of the recent
conspiracies must have been considerable, probably not less than a
thousand, some twenty only were deemed worthy of punishment, notable
burghers all of them or nobles from the countryside. Fourteen who had
been duly tried, and under torture had acknowledged their guilt, were
sentenced to imprisonment for life in fortresses outside the city. A
direct violation this of one of the most cherished privileges of
citizenship, but doubtless inspired out of consideration for the
personal safety of the prisoners, who would have run no small risk of
being lynched if they had been detained in Brussels. Some three or four
who had fled from justice were condemned in default to lifelong exile
and to the forfeiture of their estates. Only two were brought to the
block, ex-Amman Cluting and one of his sergeants. They were taken on the
Thursday night, and their end came with tragic speed. 'On Saturday
morning,' says De Dynter, who was perhaps an eye-witness of the scene he
describes, 'the whole community being assembled in the market-place
under arms, Jan Cluetinck and Arnulph Vander Hove were led bound into
the midst, and when Gerard Vander Zype, who ruled the Regent, coming
forth from the Town Hall, with a loud voice had cried out, "Now we are
going to begin," Amman Diedeghem gave the signal, and straightway and
without any interval their heads were struck off.'
Cluting had not only taken an active part in the betrayal of the city on
the 21st of January, but he was said to have been a prime mover in the
alleged German conspiracy to murder the leaders of the popular party;
and seeing that Philip and his barons were firmly convinced of the
reality of the plot and that his guilt was proven, they could hardly
have done otherwise than condemn him to death. In all probability
Vander Hove died for aiding and abetting his chief. De Dynter, however,
does not tell us for what crime he suffered: he contents himself with
simply recording the fact of his execution.
One cannot help being astonished at the moderation which the working
population of Brussels at this time showed. The craftsmen were now
masters of the city, they were seconded by a large number of the
patricians themselves, and in all probability no demand which they had
chosen to make would have been refused them. Yet, unlike their fellows
of Bruges and Ghent, who had long since excluded their patricians as
such from all share in municipal government, so that they could only
take part in civic affairs by enrolling themselves in one or other of
the trade companies, the craftsmen of Brussels were content with a half
share in the government of the city. All the old institutions were
preserved, but they were enlarged so as to admit the plebeian element,
or new institutions were created alongside of them.
So complicated did the municipal machinery now become, that any detailed
account of it is impossible within the limits of this volume; suffice it
to say, that at the head of the administration were two burgomasters,
the first a patrician and the second a plebeian, the patrician
burgomaster being chosen by the craftsmen from a list of three names
presented to them annually by the incoming aldermen, who as heretofore
were all patricians, and the plebeian burgomaster being chosen by the
aldermen from a list of three names presented to them by the trade
companies. These officers were held to be the representatives _par
excellence_ of the city, its guardians and supreme chiefs, and they were
invested with judicial powers to settle all trade disputes, in which the
matter at issue did not exceed a _demi livre vieux gros._
The magistracy proper, as of yore, consisted of a College of Aldermen of
seven members and two patrician treasurers. No change was made in the
manner of their appointment, but it was ordained that henceforth these
offices should only be conferred on patricians resident in Brussels, and
such as were not in the employ of the Duke or of any great noble,
because, as the charter quaintly explains, such have been found by
experience to be _peu profitables._ Added to the magistracy were eight
plebeian members, viz., six councillors and two treasurers. These were
selected by the aldermen from a triple list presented to them by the
trade companies. Thus the magistracy consisted of seventeen members, of
whom nine were patricians and eight plebeians. Also provision was made
for a referendum to the people. When in the opinion of the burgomasters
and the plebeian councillors such a course was desirable, they were
competent to convoke the juries of the trade companies, but before doing
so they were bound to advise the aldermen. Then when they had
communicated to the craftsmen the opinion of the magistracy on the
matter in hand they demanded their decision, and that decision seems to
have been final. Thus, though the patricians had a majority of one in
the town council, the last word practically lay with the people in all
grave matters.
The articles of the new charter were agreed upon in a great assembly of
barons and of deputies of the towns of Brussels, Antwerp and Louvain, on
Thursday the 6th of February 1421. The charter itself was signed and
sealed by the Regent on the following Tuesday (February 11), and its
provisions were immediately put into execution.
Until now the proletariat of Brussels had willingly acquiesced in the
wise and moderate policy of the Regent and his advisers. No constraint
had been placed on the personal liberty of Duke John; the three
aldermen of the popular party, in spite of their lamentable weakness in
the matter of the great betrayal, had not been deprived of office. Of
the many who were undoubtedly guilty, only a comparatively small number
had been put on trial, and the light punishments meted out to them might
well have called forth the resentment of those who had suffered from
their crimes; and yet the working population had acquiesced in all these
things, and when they had at length received their charter of
enfranchisement the craftsmen were content to lay down their arms; but
the mildness and confidence of these men was soon to give place to cruel
suspicion and an insatiable hunger for vengeance.
Shortly after Jacqueline's flight in the summer of 1420 some of Duke
John's most intimate friends had banded together in a secret and
lifelong league to support the throne, and generally to defend the Duke
against the machinations of his enemies. This at least was the
ostensible object of the league, but there is little doubt that the
action of its members, all of whom were partisans of the Straetens, was
inspired less by love of John than by hatred of the brothers Heetvelde.
The matter was kept so quiet that none of the Duke's opponents had any
inkling of it until the close of March 1421, when Gerard Vander
Straeten, Provost of Saint Jacques sur Coudenberg, and one of the
greatest churchmen in Brabant, was arrested, on suspicion seemingly, of
being concerned in the German plot, of which Hendric Van Heetvelde,
rumour had it, was to have been the first victim.
Whatever the cause of his arrest may have been, the consequences of it
were tremendous. His house was searched, and there in his chamber were
found mysterious papers relating to the secret league, with the names of
the members in their own handwriting, and with their signets affixed,
and also a letter of approval signed and sealed by Duke John himself.
The men of Brussels were bewildered and dismayed. What did it all mean?
But when the _i_'s were dotted and the _t_'s were crossed by the
burghers imprisoned without the walls, constrained thereto by
torture--for these miscreants were all implicated--dismay became frenzy,
and bewilderment a mighty voice compelling retribution. Again the
craftsmen flew to arms, again they surged into the market-place, and
again, but not until three days had passed, Myn Here Vander Zype
appeared in the tribune of proclamation. 'Children,' he cried, 'be of
good heart, your prayer is granted,' and presently the sergeants led in
'Gedolphus of Coudenberg, Willem Pipenpoy and Lord Everard T'Serclaes,
Knight,'--conspirators, all of them, on their own showing; for had they
not set their hands and seals to the fatal roll in Vander Straeten's
chamber? The name of T'Serclaes was second on the list, and he was
probably the originator of the movement--evilest of John's evil
counsellors, unworthy offspring of a noble stock, and yet, for his
father's sake, they might have spared him; but no voice was raised on
his behalf, and his head was struck off with the rest. Of Vander
Straeten's ultimate fate, De Dynter, who tells the story, says nothing,
but his name in itself was enough to damn him.
If Philip and his council had been left to their own devices, these
men's lives would doubtless have been spared. It was only under
compulsion that they at last yielded to the clamour of the mob, and if
they had held out longer, not even the influence of Vander Zype, who, as
De Dynter reiterates again and again, 'ruled the Regent and swayed the
people,' would have availed to save the rest of the leaguers. As it was,
he was able to induce the craftsmen to lay down their arms and to
acquiesce, for the moment, in no further proceedings being taken against
them. Shortly afterwards Duke John formally approved of all that the
Estates and the Regent had done, confirmed the new charter, and solemnly
promised that no man should ever be molested for anything that had taken
place in the course of the revolution. 'Whereat,' says De Dynter, 'the
common folk were so well pleased that those in authority, having pity on
the burghers imprisoned without the walls, were emboldened to mitigate
the rigour of their confinement.'
At Louvain they were even permitted to receive their friends and to eat
and drink with them. Naturally they took heart. Some of them began to
dream of pardon, and even, over their wine-cups, to utter threats of
vengeance, which of course reached the ears of the craftsmen of
Brussels, and of course bred uproar. 'These blusterers must be led to
the block; that was the only way to deal with them. Public safety
demanded it.' In vain Vander Zype urged that it were the grossest
injustice to increase the punishment of men who had been already tried
and sentenced; the insurgents answered that the sum of their infamy was
not then known, and that, if this boon were not granted, they would have
out the Germans and cut their throats.
That was enough. Sigismund was already pressing for his subjects'
release, and the Regent knew that if any evil should befall them he
would have to make ready for battle. On Saturday, then, the 7th of June
1421, the prisoners were led in chains to Brussels, and before sundown
they were dead men. On the morrow, when Gerard Vander Zype rode through
the Grand' Place along with the bride to whom he had just plighted his
troth in the old Church of Saint Nicholas, the pavement was still red
with their blood, and they were all of them his own kinsmen--gruesome
prelude this to the banquet of which the newly married couple were
about to partake in the ducal palace.
Had Jeanne Vander Zype no foreboding of the horrible doom in store for
her husband? And if so, did her heaving bosom gleam with those priceless
jewels, the wedding gift with which Heinsberg hoped, not vainly, to
purchase his redemption?
Of these things De Dynter says nothing, but we know that, thanks to
Gerard's good offices, the German knights were released shortly after
his marriage, and that the craftsmen, mollified by the blood which he
had shed, offered no resistance; and we know, too, that the man who had
sacrificed his kinsfolk to avert war was made to suffer for it in his
own person, but not yet.
One chronicler asserts that Duke John himself was present at the
executions of the 7th of June; but if this had been the case, De Dynter
would have almost certainly mentioned it; and, moreover, as Wauters
justly observes, the story is a most improbable one: John was so grieved
at the death of his friends that he left Brussels immediately after the
executions, perhaps even before they had taken place, and refused to
return to the Coudenberg for two years.
Things being now set in order, the councillors who had led John astray
being all in exile or dead, and John himself having solemnly engaged to
rule henceforth according to law, the Estates were for recalling him and
reinvesting him with the government of his domains; but Philip,
supported by the men of Brussels, was loth to lay down authority, and
for a time it seemed as if there would be trouble. At last, however,
when all the confiscated estates of John's favourites had been conferred
on him by way of _solatium,_ and a large cash payment to cover expenses
out of pocket, he yielded, and on November 25, 1423, Duke John came back
to Brussels.
Some turbulent spirits there were who, angered at the Duke's refusal to
retain the services of the Lord of Bigard, whom the magistrates had
appointed captain of the city, on the ground that as he, John, had now
returned he would be able in future to perform the duties incumbent on
that office himself, broke out into riot, but the vast majority of the
craftsmen were little inclined to risk their new-born liberty in the
fortunes of a fresh revolution. Philip's influence was now on the side
of the authorities, the disturbance was soon quelled, and the Lord of
Bigard having submitted to the Duke, by order of the city magistrates
was relieved of his office.
When Philip of Saint-Pol resigned the regency, Duke John, compelled
thereto, no doubt, by his brother, had named Gerard Vander Zype
Controller-General of Finance and Chief Steward of his household--the
most honourable and lucrative appointment in his gift. At first the Duke
professed himself well pleased with Vander Zype's management, but
presently he began to complain of his unconscionable parsimony: even his
own board, he alleged, was insufficiently furnished, and he knew there
was no lack of funds. Perhaps there was another cause for John's
rancour, perhaps in his heart he resented the violence which his steward
had done to so many of his friends. Still there was no open rupture, but
the Duke's sentiments were well known, it was whispered abroad that
Vander Zype's removal, by whatever means, would be welcome to him, and
this is what happened.
On the morning of the 23rd of April 1424 Gerard Vander Zype rode out to
Tervueren, where the Duke was at this time sojourning. Having transacted
the business which called him there--what it was De Dynter does not
say--he set out on the homeward journey early in the afternoon. The road
from Tervueren to Brussels led, as it still does, through the forest of
Soignes, in those days a much more wild and desolate tract of country
than it is now. When he had accomplished half of his journey and was
nearing Stockel, on the outskirts of the wood, he descried in the
distance a horse-man riding furiously towards him. It was 'Messire Jehan
Blondeel, who hated him with a perfect hatred.' 'Death, death!' cried
the knight as he hurled himself against his foe, and, dragging him from
his saddle, plunged his sword into his heart.
Vander Zype was not unattended, but his servants, probably in Blondeel's
pay, took to their heels at the first sign of danger, and the body of
the great patriot was left alone by the wayside all night.
In the morning it was found by some country folk and carried to
Brussels, and presently, by order of Philip, cut to the quick at the
death of his friend, laid to rest in the Church of Saint Jacques sur
Coudenberg with solemn dirge and requiem.
[Illustration]