the repeated solicitations of the Pope, King Edward gave orders that the
imprisoned Templars should be subjected to the rack in order that they
might be forced to give evidence of their guilt. Even then there seems
to have been reluctance to resort to this cruel and shameful treatment,
and a series of delays occurred, so that nothing was done till the
beginning of the following year.
The Templars, having been now three years in prison, chained,
half-starved, threatened with greater miseries here, and with eternal
damnation hereafter; separated from one another, without friend,
adviser, or legal defence, were now removed to the various jails in
London and elsewhere, and submitted to torture. We have no particular
record of the horrible details, but some evidence was afterward adduced
which was said to have been obtained from the unhappy victims during
their agony. It was such as was desired; an admission of the truth of
the monstrous accusations that were detailed to them, which had been
obtained, for the most part, from their tortured brethren in France.
In April, 1311, these depositions were read in the court, in the
presence of the Templars, who were required to say what they could
allege in their defence. They replied that they were ignorant of the
processes of law, and that they were not permitted to have the aid of
those whom they trusted and who could advise them, but that they would
gladly make a statement of their faith and of the principles of their
order. This they were permitted to do, and a very simple and touching
paper was produced and signed by all the brethren. They declared
themselves, one and all, good Christians and faithful members of the
Church, and they claimed to be treated as such, and openly and fairly
tried if there were any just cause of complaint against them. But their
persecutors were by no means satisfied. Fresh tortures and cruelties
were resorted to to force confessions of guilt from these worn-out and
dying men. A few gave way, and said what they were told to say; and
these unhappy men were produced in St. Paul's Cathedral shortly
afterward, and made to recant their errors, and were then "reconciled to
the Church." A similar scene was enacted at York.
The property of the Templars in England was placed under the charge of a
commission at the time that proceedings were commenced against them, and
the King very soon treated it as if it were his own, giving away manors
and convents at his pleasure. A great part of the possessions of the
order was subsequently made over to the Hospitallers. The convent and
church of the Temple in London were granted, in 1313, to Aymer de
Valence, Earl of Pembroke, whose monument is in Westminster Abbey. Other
property was pawned by the King to his creditors as security for payment
of his debts; but constant litigation and disputes seem to have pursued
the holders of the ill-gotten goods.
Some of the surviving Templars retired to monasteries, others returned
to the world and assumed secular habits, for which they incurred the
censures of the Pope.
HENRY HART MILMAN
The tragedy of the Templars had not yet drawn to its close. The four
great dignitaries of the order, the grand master Du Molay, Guy, the
commander of Normandy, son of the Dauphin of Auvergne, the commander of
Aquitaine, Godfrey de Gonaville, the great visitor of France, Hugues de
Peraud, were still pining in the royal dungeons. It was necessary to
determine on their fate. The King and the Pope were now equally
interested in burying the affair forever in silence and oblivion. So
long as these men lived, uncondemned, undoomed, the order was not
extinct. A commission was named: the Cardinal-Archbishop of Albi, with
two other cardinals, two monks, the Cistercian Arnold Novelli, and
Arnold de Fargis, nephew of Pope Clement, the Dominican Nicolas de
Freveauville, akin to the house of Marigny, formerly the King's
confessor. With these the Archbishop of Sens sat in judgment on the
Knights' own former confessions. The grand master and the rest were
found guilty, and were to be sentenced to perpetual imprisonment.
A scaffold was erected before the porch of Notre Dame. On one side
appeared the two cardinals; on the other the four noble prisoners, in
chains, under the custody of the Provost of Paris. Six years of dreary
imprisonment had passed over their heads; of their valiant brethren the
most valiant had been burned alive; the recreants had purchased their
lives by confession; the Pope, in a full council, had condemned and
dissolved the order. If a human mind--a mind like that of Du
Molay--could be broken by suffering and humiliation, it must have
yielded to this long and crushing imprisonment. The Cardinal-Archbishop
of Albi ascended a raised platform: he read the confessions of the
Knights, the proceedings of the court; he enlarged on the criminality of
the order, on the holy justice of the Pope, and the devout,
self-sacrificing zeal of the King; he was proceeding to the final, the
fatal sentence. At that instant the grand master advanced; his gesture
implored silence; judges and people gazed in awestruck apprehension. In
a calm, clear voice Du Molay spoke: "Before heaven and earth, on the
verge of death, where the least falsehood bears like an intolerable
weight upon the soul, I protest that we have richly deserved death, not
on account of any heresy or sin of which ourselves or our order have
been guilty, but because we have yielded, to save our lives, to the
seductive words of the Pope and of the King; and so by our confessions
brought shame and ruin on our blameless, holy, and orthodox
brotherhood."
The cardinals stood confounded; the people could not suppress their
profound sympathy. The assembly was hastily broken up; the Provost was
commanded to conduct the prisoners back to their dungeons. "To-morrow we
will hold further counsel." But on the moment that the King heard these
things, without a day's delay, without the least consultation with the
ecclesiastical authorities, he ordered them to death as relapsed
heretics. On the island in the Seine, where now stands the statue of
Henry IV, between the King's garden on one side and the convent of the
Augustinian monks on the other, the two pyres were raised--two out of
the four had shrunk back into their ignoble confessions. It was the hour
of vespers when these two aged and noble men were led out to be burned;
they were tied each to the stake. The flames kindled dully and heavily;
the wood, hastily piled up, was green or wet; or in cruel mercy the
tardiness was designed that the victims might have time, while the fire
was still curling round their extremities, to recant their bold
recantation. But there was no sign, no word of weakness. Du Molay
implored that the image of the Mother of God might be held up before
him, and his hands unchained, that he might clasp them in prayer. Both,
as the smoke rose to their lips, as the fire crept up to their vital
parts, continued solemnly to aver the innocence and the Catholic faith
of the order. The King himself sat and beheld, it might seem without
remorse, this hideous spectacle; the words of Du Molay might have
reached his ears. But the people looked on with far other feelings.
Stupor kindled into admiration; the execution was a martyrdom; friars
gathered up their ashes and bones and carried them away, hardly by
stealth, to consecrated ground; they became holy relics. The two who
wanted courage to die pined away their miserable life in prison.
The wonder and the pity of the times which immediately followed, arrayed
Du Molay not only in the robes of the martyr, but gave him the terrible
language of a prophet. "Clement, iniquitous and cruel judge, I summon
thee within forty days to meet me before the throne of the Most High!"
According to some accounts this fearful sentence included the King, by
whom, if uttered, it might have been heard. The earliest allusion to
this awful speech does not contain that striking particularity, which,
if part of it, would be fatal to its credibility, _i.e._, the precise
date of Clement's death. It was not till the year after that Clement and
King Philip passed to their account. The fate of these two men during
the next year might naturally so appal the popular imagination, as to
approximate more closely the prophecy and its accomplishment. At all
events it betrayed the deep and general feeling of the cruel wrong
inflicted on the order; while the unlamented death of the Pope, the
disastrous close of Philip's reign, and the disgraceful crimes which
attainted the honor of his family seemed as declarations of heaven as to
the innocence of their noble victims.
JAMES VAN ARTEVELDE LEADS A
FLEMISH REVOLT
EDWARD III OF ENGLAND ASSUMES THE
TITLE OF KING OF FRANCE
A.D. 1337-1340
FRANÇOIS P. G. GUIZOT
Having defeated the Flemings at Mons-la-Puelle in 1304,
Philip the Fair of France found that they were unsubdued and
ready to renew their war against him. Therefore he very soon
acknowledged their independence under their count, Robert de
Béthune. But Philip continually violated the treaty he had
made, and just before his death (1314) he again began
hostilities against Flanders.
Little of historical importance occurred in that country
between the death of Philip the Fair and the accession of
Philip of Valois (1328). His first act was to take up the
cause of Louis de Nevers, then Count of Flanders, whom the
independent burghers of most of the chief cities had united
to deprive of his territories, leaving him only Ghent for a
refuge. In the first year of his reign Philip gained a
victory over the Flemish "weavers" at Cassel, and laid all
Flanders at the feet of its rejected count.
In 1338 began the Hundred Years' War, arising from the claim
of Edward III of England to the French throne. Edward's most
important measure in preparation for the war was the
securing of an alliance with the Flemish burghers, whose
French count, Louis de Nevers, had gained nothing in their
affections through the humiliation of Cassel, which
confirmed his rule. The hated count showed his hostility to
Edward, as well as his spite against his own subjects, by
various petty acts which interfered with the commerce and
industry of both Flanders and England.
At last, by prohibiting the exportation of wool to Flanders,
Edward reduced the Flemings to despair and forced them to
fling themselves into his arms. Many of them emigrated to
England, where they helped to lay the foundation of
manufactures. But the Flemish towns burst into insurrection
and proceeded to organized action in the manner here related
by Guizot, who draws largely upon the narrative of
Froissart.
The Flemings bore the first brunt of that war which was to be so cruel
and so long. It was a lamentable position for them; their industrial and
commercial prosperity was being ruined; their security at home was going
from them; their communal liberties were compromised; divisions set in
among them; by interest and habitual intercourse they were drawn toward
England, but the Count, their lord, did all he could to turn them away
from her, and many among them were loath to separate themselves entirely
from France. "Burghers of Ghent, as they chatted in the thoroughfares
and at the cross-roads, said one to another that they had heard much
wisdom, to their mind, from a burgher who was called James van
Artevelde, and who was a brewer of beer. They had heard him say that, if
he could obtain a hearing and credit, he would in a little while restore
Flanders to good estate, and they would recover all their gains without
standing ill with the King of France or the King of England.
"These sayings began to get spread abroad insomuch that a quarter or
half the city was informed thereof, especially the small folk of the
commonalty, whom the evil touched most nearly. They began to assemble in
the streets, and it came to pass that one day, after dinner, several
went from house to house calling for their comrades, and saying, 'Come
and hear the wise man's counsel.' On December 26, 1337, they came to the
house of the said James van Artevelde, and found him leaning against his
door. Far off as they were when they first perceived him, they made him
a deep obeisance, and 'Dear sir,' they said, 'we are come to you for
counsel; for we are told that by your great and good sense you will
restore the country of Flanders to good case. So tell us how.'
"Then James van Artevelde came forward, and said: 'Sirs comrades, I am a
native and burgher of this city, and here I have my means. Know that I
would gladly aid you with all my power, you and all the country; if
there were here a man who would be willing to take the lead, I would be
willing to risk body and means at his side; and if the rest of ye be
willing to be brethren, friends, and comrades to me, to abide in all
matters at my side, notwithstanding that I am not worthy of it, I will
undertake it willingly.' Then said all with one voice: 'We promise you
faithfully to abide at your side in all matters and to therewith
adventure body and means, for we know well that in the whole countship
of Flanders there is not a man but you worthy so to do.'" Then Van
Artevelde bound them to assemble on the next day but one in the
grounds of the monastery of Biloke, which had received numerous benefits
from the ancestors of Sohier of Courtrai, whose son-in-law Van Artevelde
was.
This bold burgher of Ghent, who was born about 1285, was sprung from a
family the name of which had been for a long while inscribed in their
city upon the register of industrial corporations. His father, John van
Artevelde, a cloth-worker, had been several times over-sheriff of Ghent,
and his mother, Mary van Groete, was great-aunt to the grandfather of
the illustrious publicist called in history Grotius. James van Artevelde
in his youth accompanied Count Charles of Valois, brother of Philip the
Handsome, upon his adventurous expeditions in Italy, Sicily, and Greece,
and to the island of Rhodes; and it had been close by the spots where
the soldiers of Marathon and Salamis had beaten the armies of Darius and
Xerxes that he had heard of the victory of the Flemish burghers and
workmen attacked in 1302, at Courtrai, by the splendid army of Philip
the Handsome.
James van Artevelde, on returning to his country, had been busy with his
manufactures,[46] his fields, the education of his children, and Flemish
affairs up to the day when, at his invitation, the burghers of Ghent
thronged to the meeting on December 28, 1337, in the grounds of the
monastery of Biloke. There he delivered an eloquent speech, pointing out
unhesitatingly but temperately the policy which he considered good for
the country. "Forget not," he said, "the might and the glory of
Flanders. Who, pray, shall forbid that we defend our interests by using
our rights? Can the King of France prevent us from treating with the
King of England? And may we not be certain that if we were to treat with
the King of England, the King of France would not be the less urgent in
seeking our alliance? Besides, have we not with us all the communes of
Brabant, of Hainault, of Holland, and of Zealand?" The audience cheered
these words; the commune of Ghent forthwith assembled, and on January 3,
1337, reëstablished the offices of captains of parishes according to
olden usage, when the city was exposed to any pressing danger.
It was carried that one of these captains should have the chief
government of the city; and James van Artevelde was at once invested
with it. From that moment the conduct of Van Artevelde was ruled by one
predominant idea: to secure free and fair commercial intercourse for
Flanders with England, while observing a general neutrality in the war
between the kings of England and France, and to combine so far all the
communes of Flanders in one and the same policy. And he succeeded in
this twofold purpose. On April 29, 1338, the representatives of all the
communes of Flanders--the city of Bruges numbering among them a hundred
and eight deputies--repaired to the castle of Mâle, a residence of Count
Louis, and then James van Artevelde set before the Count what had been
resolved upon among them. The Count submitted, and swore that he would
thenceforth maintain the liberties of Flanders in the state in which
they had hitherto existed. In the month of May following a deputation,
consisting of James van Artevelde and other burghers appointed by the
cities of Ghent, Bruges, and Ypres scoured the whole of Flanders, from
Bailleul to Termonde, and from Ninove to Dunkirk, "to reconcile the good
folk of the communes to the Count of Flanders, as well for the Count's
honor as for the peace of the country." Lastly, on June 10, 1338, a
treaty was signed at Anvers between the deputies of the Flemish communes
and the English ambassadors, the latter declaring: "We do all to wit
that we have negotiated the way and substance of friendship with the
good folk of the communes of Flanders, in form and manner hereinafter
following:
"First, they shall be able to go and buy the wools and other merchandise
which have been exported from England to Holland, Zealand, or any other
place whatsoever; and all traders of Flanders who shall repair to the
ports of England shall there be safe and free in their persons and their
goods, just as in any other place where their ventures might bring them
together.
"_Item_, we have agreed with the good folk and with all the common
country of Flanders that they must not mix nor intermeddle in any way,
by assistance in men or arms, in the wars of our lord the King and the
noble Sir Philip of Valois (who holdeth himself for King of France)."
Three articles following regulated in detail the principles laid down in
the first two, and, by another charter, Edward III ordained that "all
stuffs marked with the seal of the city of Ghent might travel freely in
England without being subject according to ellage and quality to the
control to which all foreign merchandise was subject."
Van Artevelde was right in telling the Flemings that, if they treated
with the King of England, the King of France would be only the more
anxious for their alliance. Philip of Valois and even Count Louis of
Flanders, when they got to know of the negotiations entered into between
the Flemish communes and King Edward, redoubled their offers and
promises to them. But when the passions of men have taken full
possession of their souls, words of concession and attempts at
accommodation are nothing more than postponements or lies. Philip, when
he heard about the conclusion of a treaty between the Flemish communes
and the King of England, sent word to Count Louis "that this James van
Artevelde must not, on any account, be allowed to rule or even live, for
if it were so for long, the Count would lose his land." The Count, very
much disposed to accept such advice, repaired to Ghent and sent for Van
Artevelde to come and see him at his hotel. He went, but with so large a
following that the Count was not at the time at all in a position to
resist him. He tried to persuade the Flemish burgher that "if he would
keep a hand on the people so as to keep them to their love for the King
of France, he having more authority than anyone else for such a purpose,
much good would result to him; mingling, besides, with this address,
some words of threatening import."
Van Artevelde, who was not the least afraid of the threat, and who at
heart was fond of the English, told the Count that he would do as he had
promised the communes. "Hereupon he left the Count, who consulted his
confidants as to what he was to do in this business, and they counselled
him to let them go and assemble their people, saying that they would
kill Van Artevelde secretly or otherwise. And, indeed, they did lay many
traps and made many attempts against the captain; but it was of no
avail, since all the commonalty was for him." When the rumor of these
projects and these attempts was spread abroad in the city, the
excitement was extreme, and all the burghers assumed white hoods, which
was the mark peculiar to the members of the commune when they assembled
under their flags; so that the Count found himself reduced to assuming
one, for he was afraid of being kept captive at Ghent, and, on the
pretext of a hunting-party, he lost no time in gaining his castle of
Mâle.
The burghers of Ghent had their minds still filled with their late alarm
when they heard that by order, it was said, of the King of France--Count
Louis had sent and beheaded at the castle of Rupelmonde, in the very bed
in which he was confined by his infirmities, their fellow-citizen Sohier
of Courtrai, Van Artevelde's father-in-law, who had been kept for many
months in prison for his intimacy with the English. On the same day the
Bishop of Senlis and the Abbot of St. Denis had arrived at Tournai, and
had superintended the reading out in the market-place of a sentence of
excommunication against the Ghentese.
It was probably at this date that Van Artevelde in his vexation and
disquietude assumed in Ghent an attitude threatening and despotic even
to tyranny. "He had continually after him," says Froissart, "sixty or
eighty armed varlets, among whom were two or three who knew some of his
secrets. When he met a man whom he hated or had in suspicion, this man
was at once killed, for Van Artevelde had given this order to his
varlets: 'The moment I meet a man, and make such and such a sign to you,
slay him without delay, however great he may be, without waiting for
more speech.' In this way he had many great masters slain. And as soon
as these sixty varlets had taken him home to his hotel, each went to
dinner at his own house; and the moment dinner was over they returned
and stood before his hotel and waited in the street until that he was
minded to go and play and take his pastime in the city, and so they
attended him to supper-time.
"And know that each of these hirelings had _per diem_ four groschen of
Flanders for their expenses and wages, and he had them regularly paid
from week to week. And even in the case of all that were most powerful
in Flanders, knights, esquires, and burghers of the good cities, whom he
believed to be favorable to the Count of Flanders, them he banished from
Flanders and levied half their revenues. He had levies made of rents,
of dues on merchandise and all the revenues belonging to the Count,
wherever it might be in Flanders, and he disbursed them at his will, and
gave them away without rendering any account. And when he would borrow
of any burghers on his word for payment, there was none that durst say
him nay. In short there was never in Flanders, or in any other country,
duke, count, prince, or other who can have had a country at his will as
James van Artevelde had for a long time." It is possible that, as some
historians have thought, Froissart, being less favorable to burghers
than to princes, did not deny himself a little exaggeration in this
portrait of a great burgher-patriot transformed by the force of events
and passions into a demagogic tyrant.
While the Count of Flanders, after having vainly attempted to excite an
uprising against Van Artevelde, was being forced, in order to escape
from the people of Bruges, to mount his horse in hot haste, at night and
barely armed, and to flee away to St. Omer, Philip of Valois and Edward
III were preparing on either side, for the war which they could see
drawing near. Philip was vigorously at work on the Pope, the Emperor of
Germany, and the princes neighbors of Flanders, in order to raise
obstacles against his rival or rob him of his allies. He ordered that
short-lived meeting of the states-general about which we have no
information left us, save that it voted the principle that "no talliage
could be imposed on the people if urgent necessity or evident utility
should not require it, and unless by concession of the estates."