THE BRUGES MATINS--BATTLE OF THE GOLDEN SPURS
The visitor to Bruges is reminded, wherever he goes, of the stirring
events which fill the chronicles of the town for several centuries.
Opposite the Belfry, in the middle of the Market-Place, is the
monument to Peter De Coninck and John Breidel, on which garlands
of flowers are laid every summer, in memory of what they did when
the burghers rose against the French in May, 1302; and amongst
the modern frescoes which cover the walls of the Grande Salle des
Échevins in the Hôtel de Ville, with its roof of fourteenth-century
woodwork, is one which represents the return from the Battle of
the Golden Spurs, that famous fight in which the hardy peasantry
of Flanders overthrew the knights of France whom Philip the Fair
had sent to avenge the blood of the Frenchmen who had died on the
terrible morning of the 'Bruges Matins.'
The fourteenth century had opened. The town had now reached the
limits which have contained it ever since--an irregular oval with a
circumference of between four and five miles, surrounded by double
ditches, and a strong wall pierced by nine fortified gateways;
and as the town had grown, the privileges and liberties of the
townsmen had grown likewise. Sturdy, independent, and resolved
to keep the management of their own affairs in their own hands,
the burghers of Bruges, like those of the other Flemish towns, had
succeeded in establishing a system of self-government so complete
that it roused the opposition of Guy de Dampierre, Count of Flanders,
whose efforts to diminish the power of these communities at length
brought about a crisis which gave Philip the Fair of France an
excuse for interfering. The Count, having to contend both against
his own subjects and against the ambitions of the King of France,
fell from power, and in the end Flanders was annexed to France.
Soon after this rich province had been added to his domains, Philip
came with his wife, Joanna of Navarre, on a visit to Bruges. Already
there were two factions in the town--the Leliarts, or French party,
consisting chiefly of the upper classes, and the Clauwerts, or
Flemish party, to which the mass of the people belonged. By the
former Philip was received in royal fashion, and so magnificent
were the dresses and jewels worn by the wives and daughters of the
nobles and rich burgesses, who sat in the windows and balconies
as the royal procession passed along, that the Queen was moved
to jealousy. 'I thought,' she said, 'that I alone was Queen; but
here in this place I have six hundred rivals.' But in the streets
below there were sullen looks and murmurs of discontent, which
grew louder and louder every day, when, after the departure of the
Court, the magistrates, who belonged to the French party, proposed
that the merchant guilds should find money to defray some of the
expenses which had been incurred on this occasion.
At this time Peter De Coninck was Dean of the Guild of Weavers,
a man of substance, popular and eloquent. There was a tumultuous
gathering in the Market-Place, when, standing in front of the Belfry,
with the leaders of five-and-twenty guilds around him, he declaimed on
liberty, and attacked the magistrates, calling on his fellow-townsmen
to resist the taxes. The city officers, on the order of the magistrates,
arrested De Coninck and his chief supporters, and hurried them to the
prison in the Bourg. But in a few hours the mob forced an entrance
and released them. The signal for revolt had been given, and for
some months Bruges, like the rest of Flanders, was in disorder. De
Coninck, who had been joined by John Breidel, Dean of the Guild of
Butchers, was busy rousing the people in all parts of the country.
He visited Ghent, amongst other places, and tried to persuade the
magistrates that if Ghent and Bruges united their forces the whole
Flemish people would rise, crush the Leliarts, and expel the French.
But the men of Ghent would not listen to him, and he returned to
Bruges. Here, too, he met with a rebuff, for the magistrates, having
heard that Jacques de Châtillon, whom Philip had made Governor of
Flanders, was marching on the town, would not allow him to remain
amongst them. He went to Damme, and with him went, not only Breidel,
but 5,000 burghers of the national party, stout Clauwerts, who had
devoted themselves to regaining the liberty of their country.
[Illustration: A FLEMISH YOUNG WOMAN]
When Châtillon rode up to the walls of Bruges and demanded entrance
the magistrates agreed to open the gates, on condition that he
brought with him only 300 men-at-arms. But he broke his word, and
the town was entered by 2,000 knights, whose haughty looks and
threatening language convinced the people that treachery was intended.
It was whispered in the Market-Place that the waggons which rumbled
over the drawbridges carried ropes with which the Clauwerts who
had remained in the town were to be hanged; that there was to be
a general massacre, in which not even the women and children would
be spared; and that the Frenchmen never unbuckled their swords
or took off their armour, but were ready to begin the slaughter
at any moment. It was a day of terror in Bruges, and when evening
came some of the burghers slipped out, made their way to Damme,
and told De Coninck what was passing in the town.
That night Châtillon gave a feast to his chief officers, and amongst
his guests was Pierre Flotte, Chancellor of France, perhaps the
ablest of those jurists by whose evil councils Philip the Fair
was encouraged in the ideas of autocracy which led him to make
the setting up of a despotism the policy of his whole life. With
Flotte--'that Belial,' as Pope Boniface VIII. once called him--and
the rest, Châtillon sat revelling till a late hour. The night wore
on; De Châtillon's party broke up, and went to rest; the weary
sentinels were half asleep at their posts; and soon all Bruges
was buried in silence. Here and there lights twinkled in some of
the guild-houses, where a few of the burghers sat anxiously waiting
for what the morrow might bring forth, while others went to the
ramparts on the north, and strained their eyes to see if help was
coming from Damme.
At early dawn--it was Friday, May 18, 1302--the watchers on the
ramparts saw a host of armed men rapidly approaching the town. They
were divided into two parties, one of which, led by De Coninck,
made for the Porte Ste. Croix, while the other, under Breidel,
marched to the Porte de Damme, a gateway which no longer exists,
but which was then one of the most important entrances, being that
by which travellers came from Damme and Sluis. Messengers from
the ramparts ran swiftly through the streets, in which daylight
was now beginning to appear, and spread the news from house to
house. Silently the burghers took their swords and pikes, left
their homes, and gathered in the Market-Place and near the houses
in which the French were sleeping. The French slept on till, all
of a sudden, they were wakened by the tramp of feet, the clash
of arms, and shouts of 'Flanders for the Lion!' Breidel had led
his men into the town, and they were rushing through the streets
to where Châtillon had taken up his quarters, while De Coninck,
having passed through the Porte Ste. Croix, was marching to the
Bourg. The Frenchmen, bewildered, surprised, and only half awake,
ran out into the streets. The Flemings were shouting 'Schilt ende
Vriendt! Schilt ende Vriendt!'[*] and every man who could not pronounce
these words was known to be a Frenchman, and slain upon the spot.
Some fled to the gates; but at every gate they found a band of
guards, who called out 'Schilt ende Vriendt!' and put them to the
sword.
[Footnote *: 'Shield and Friend!']
All that summer's morning, and on throughout the day, the massacre
continued. Old men, women, and children hurled stones from the
roofs and windows down upon the enemy. Breidel, a man of great
strength, killed many with his own hand, and those whom he wounded
were beaten to death where they fell by the apprentices with their
iron clubs. In the Market-Place, close to where the monument to De
Coninck and Breidel stands, a party of soldiers, under a gallant
French knight, Gauthier de Sapignies, made a stand; but they were
overpowered and slaughtered to the last man. Châtillon tried to
rally his forces, but the surprise had been too complete, and,
disguising himself in the cassock of a priest, he hid, in company
with Chancellor Flotte, till it was dark, when they managed to
escape from the town. By this time the carnage had ceased; the
walls of the houses and the gutters ran with blood; and the burghers
of Bruges had done their work so thoroughly that 2,000 Frenchmen
lay dead upon the streets.
But the final reckoning with France was yet to come. Then Châtillon
reached Paris and told his master the direful story of the Bruges
Matins, Philip swore revenge; and a few weeks later an army 40,000
strong invaded Flanders, under the Comte d'Artois, with whom rode
also Châtillon, Flotte, and many nobles of France. The Flemings went
to meet them--not only the burghers of Bruges, led by De Coninck
and Breidel, marching under the banners of their guilds, but men
from every part of Flanders--and on July 11, near Courtrai, the
Battle of the Golden Spurs was fought.
[Illustration: A FLEMISH BURGHER]
The ground was marshy, with a stream and pools of water between
the two armies; and just as the Scots at Bannockburn, twelve years
afterwards, prepared pitfalls for the heavy cavalry of England, so
the Flemings laid a trap for the French knights by cutting down
brushwood and covering the water. The horsemen, clad in cumbrous
armour, charged, the brushwood gave way, and most of them sank
into the water. The Comte d'Artois got clear, but was beaten to
the ground and killed. The Chancellor Flotte, who had boasted that
he would bring the people of Bruges to their knees, was trampled to
death. Châtillon died too; and when, at last, a long day's fighting
came to an end, the Flemings had gained a complete victory. By this
battle, which took its name from the thousands of golden spurs
which were torn from the French knights who fell, the victors
secured--for a time, at least--the liberty of their country, and
the memory of it was for many a day to Flanders what the memory
of Bannockburn was to Scotland, or of Morgarten to Switzerland.
DAMME--THE SEA-FIGHT AT SLUIS--SPLENDOUR OF BRUGES IN THE MIDDLE
AGES--THE FALL AND LOSS OF TRADE