CHAPTER XI

PHILIP THE GOOD AND THE VAN EYCKS

As the sunset is often the most beautiful hour of the day, so the

splendour of the old Flemish communes reached its zenith at the moment

when many of them were about to sink into their long sleep. This was

the period of Burgundian rule. Upon the death of Louis of Maele the

County of Flanders ceased to be a separate sovereignty, as it had been

since Baldwin of the Iron Arm, for the husband of Margaret, the old

Count's daughter, was Duke of Burgundy and brother of the King of

France--a foreign prince whose interests in France far out-weighed in

his mind his interests in Flanders. The new ruler, Philip the Bold,

was acknowledged as Count of Flanders in 1384, but was only able to

enter Audenaerde by stratagem after a siege, and was defied openly by

the sturdy burghers of Ghent. The following year, however, Philip

effected a family union by which he virtually controlled the two

important States of Brabant and Hainaut. His eldest son was married

to Margaret, daughter of the Regent of Hainaut, while the latter's son

married Philip's daughter. These marriages were celebrated at Cambrai,

in April, 1385, and at the same time the Duchess of Brabant recognised

Philip's second son as heir to the Duchy. Brabant at that time was

less rich and powerful than Flanders, but its chief cities, Brussels

and Louvain, were growing rapidly. Hainaut, on the other hand, had

been termed by one of its leaders "a poor country of proud men"--its

chief cities, Mons and Valenciennes, being places of third-rate

importance, and its present vast mineral wealth then undreamed of. The

marriages of Cambrai are worth remembering, however, as explaining the

rapidity with which the House of Burgundy extended its sway over

nearly all of what is now Belgium.

Ghent still resisted its new Count, but an army of one hundred

thousand French and Burgundians--gathered primarily to invade

England--destroyed the seaport of Damme, which had been rebuilt since

its previous destruction by the French, and plundered "the Four

Trades," as the fertile region thereabout was called. Ghent, however,

had suffered enough to make it sue for peace and acknowledge Philip's

sovereignty. The invasion of England project came to nothing--as have

so many others before and since--but it had at least enabled Philip to

establish his power in Flanders.

On Philip's death in 1404, he was succeeded by his son, John the

Fearless (as the old chroniclers call him). The life of this prince

belongs to the history of France rather than Flanders, as he had

little use for his Flemish towns except to extort money from their

burghers--who granted him such sums as he required on his renewing

acknowledgment of their liberties and privileges. In 1407 John caused

the murder of his great rival in the government of France, the Duke of

Orleans. Then came the battle of Agincourt, where the power of France

was ruined by Henry the Fifth, and in 1419 the son of the Duke of

Orleans avenged the murder of his father twelve years previously by

murdering John the Fearless at Montereau.

The son of John the Fearless was Philip, called by the chroniclers

"the Good." A better term would have been "the Magnificent," for

goodness was hardly his chief characteristic. The murder of his father

caused Philip to take the side of England in the long conflict between

that country and France that was still raging--a policy that pleased

his Flemish communes, which depended for their prosperity on the wool

trade. Meanwhile Philip took advantage of the matrimonial difficulties

of Jacqueline of Bavaria, Countess of Hainaut and Holland, to compel

that beautiful but unfortunate princess to abdicate in his favour. The

dungeon in the Castle of the Counts at Ghent, where the fair

Jacqueline was for a time confined, has already been mentioned. He

also succeeded in making himself Duke of Brabant, thus uniting in his

own person the government of these rich provinces with that of

Flanders and Burgundy and his other possessions in France.

In 1430 Philip married the Princess Isabel of Portugal, a

great-granddaughter of John, Duke of Lancaster. This marriage cemented

the English alliance, and the English made Philip Regent of France,

over which they still claimed sovereignty. It was Philip who captured

and indirectly caused the execution of Jeanne d'Arc at the darkest

period of French history.

The now all-powerful Duke of Burgundy signalized his marriage by

establishing at Bruges the famous Order of the Golden Fleece. This

consisted of himself, as founder and sovereign prince, and twenty-four

knights--naturally the highest in the land--and in renown and lustre

the new order quickly took rank as the very pinnacle of mediæval

chivalry. Membership was an honour than which there was none higher,

while members also enjoyed a personal security against the tyranny of

princes in being amenable only to their comrades of the order. The

head of such an institution naturally exerted powers equal, and, in

some respects, superior, to those of any crowned monarch. The fêtes

with which Philip celebrated the establishment of the order were

without precedent in the history of Europe for magnificence, and the

old city of Bruges was for days thronged with the bravest knights and

the fairest ladies to be found in the Duke's widespread dominions.

Up to this date the policy of Philip had coincided with the interests

of his great communes in Flanders and his popularity throughout the

county was unbounded. Not only did friendship with England protect and

stimulate trade between the two countries, but the misery and ruin of

France also contributed to extend the commerce of the great towns just

over the frontier whose trade and industries were unmolested. In 1435

Philip concluded the treaty of Arras with Charles VII, King of France,

by which, for the sake of peace, the French King ceded to him a

number of counties in France and made him, during his lifetime at

least, an independent prince owing no homage to the French Crown. This

treaty naturally enraged the English, who at once declared war on

Burgundy, destroying many Burgundian vessels and raiding its coast

towns. In revenge Duke Philip marched on Calais with an army of thirty

thousand Flemings whom he induced to join in the war against their

ancient ally chiefly through their confidence in his good intentions

and against their own better judgment. The siege proved to be a long

one, and the Flemings becoming discontented finally set fire to their

camp and crying, "_Go, go, wy zyn all vermanden!_" ("Go, go, we are

all betrayed!") marched back to Flanders, leaving their Duke raging at

his discomfiture.

This fiasco determined Philip to adopt a new policy toward the

communes and compel them to obey his orders. On May 22, 1437, he

camped outside of the city of Bruges with a considerable force of

knights and Picard footmen, informing the burghers that he was on his

way to Holland. The next day, telling his men "That is the Holland we

have come to conquer!" as he pointed to the city, Philip led his

forces to the market-place. The tocsin in the old belfry instantly

sounded the alarm, and angry guildsmen and burghers came pouring down

the narrow streets in thousands. Philip's small force, taken at a

disadvantage, was forced to retreat to one of the gates. It was shut,

its heavy bolts securely drawn. Already some of the French force had

been killed, and in a few moments the Duke himself would have perished

but for Burgomaster Van de Walle, who brought a smith and broke the

lock. The Duke escaped with most of his followers, but many who were

caught in the rear lost their lives. This was the Bruges Vespers--to

distinguish it from Bruges Matin, the year of the Battle of the Spurs.

Philip now set about humbling the proud city in grim earnest, cutting

off the commerce upon which its prosperity depended, and even its food

supplies. To add to the horrors of the siege the plague broke out

within the city, while leprosy was also prevalent. No less than

twenty-four thousand died of pestilence and famine before the brave

burghers at last gave in. Philip's terms were hard. The city officials

were required to meet him bareheaded and barefooted the next time he

deigned to visit the defeated commune, and on their knees give him the

keys of the city. A heavy fine was imposed and forty-two leading

burghers were excluded from amnesty and beheaded--including Van de

Walle, who had saved his life at the Bouverie gate. This was the

"Great Humiliation," as it is sometimes called, but--finding that

continued hostility to the chief trading centre in his dominions was

driving foreign traders away--the Duke now took Bruges again into his

favour and never again molested it during his long reign.

The proud city of Ghent was the next to feel the weight of the

powerful Duke's displeasure. Rebelling in 1448 against the imposition

of a tax on salt, called the gabelle, the city defied the Duke's

authority for five years. Meanwhile Philip gradually cut off its

supplies, as he had done with Bruges. Ghent was more populous,

however, and its burgher armies took the field and carried open war as

far as Audenaerde, which they besieged. Several small battles were

fought, the advantage resting mainly with the Duke, until on July 23,

1453, the decisive conflict took place. The Duke's forces were

encamped at Gavre, a few miles from the city. Spies within the gates

told the burghers that it would be easy to surprise the camp and

destroy Philip's army. The tocsin therefore was sounded and the hosts

of guildsmen and burghers marched out to attack the enemy. The Duke's

forces, aware of the manner in which the Flemings were to be betrayed,

were placed where the open ground favoured the Burgundian horsemen. In

spite of this advantage, the contest was a stubborn one, both the Duke

and his son Charles narrowly escaping death on one occasion. At last

the Flemings began to give way, and the battle became a slaughter,

more than twenty thousand of the guildsmen being slain on the field,

while all prisoners were hanged. This struggle was called "the red sea

of Gavre." As the men of Ghent were fleeing toward their city Philip

sought to pursue them by the shortest way and intercept their flight.

He accordingly called for a guide. A peasant of the neighbourhood

volunteered, and, after leading the Burgundian army across fields and

by-paths for several hours, conducted the victors--not to the gates of

Ghent, but back to their own camp again! This nameless hero was

incontinently hanged to the nearest tree, but he no doubt saved the

city from pillage and rapine that night.

Philip by this victory completely crushed the spirit of the communes,

for none dared resist when Ghent the all-powerful had failed. He seems

to have had at least a fleeting realisation, however, that victories

of this sort were not matters for unmitigated satisfaction. The day

after the battle the women of Ghent were searching the ghastly heaps

of dead for the bodies of their husbands, their brothers and their

lovers when Philip exclaimed--possibly touched by the sad sight--"I do

not know who is the gainer by this victory. As for me, see what I have

lost--for these were my subjects!"

The privileges of Ghent were somewhat curtailed, and the dearly loved

guild banners carried away by the conqueror, but Philip, on the whole,

was very moderate. The obnoxious gabelle, the cause of the war, was

removed, and all citizens guaranteed their individual liberties. The

following year, Philip, possibly to celebrate his now undisputed

supremacy, gave a series of fêtes at Lille that surpassed even those

held on the occasion of his marriage at the foundation of the Order of

the Golden Fleece. Upon one dining table stood a cathedral, with a

choir singing within; another held a huge pie, inside of which an

orchestra of twenty-eight musicians played; a third contained a

pantomime representing Jason in search of the golden fleece. These

fêtes and tournaments lasted for days, and were the wonder of Europe.

During the remainder of his reign of fifty years Philip never again

had occasion to make war on his Flemish subjects, and while he

seriously curtailed the power and importance of the communes, his rule

was, on the whole, a period of great prosperity for Flanders. Both

merchants and artisans were waxing rich, while the chief cities were

being beautified on every hand. It was under Philip the Good that the

cathedral at Antwerp was begun, and the town halls of Mons, Louvain

and Brussels erected. It was also during his reign that William Caxton

learned the art of printing at the house of Colard Manson at Bruges,

but the prejudice of the burghers led to his banishment as a

foreigner--thus depriving Bruges of the lustre of his achievements.

The greatest event of Philip's reign, however, was one of which the

glory is shared by both Bruges and Ghent--the establishment in

Flanders of the school of painters in oils whose masterpieces loom so

large in the history of art.

Like most men whose commanding personality dominates the age in which

they live, Philip the Good was many sided. The Professor admires him

because he was, in his judgment, one of the greatest constructive

statesmen of the Middle Ages--aiming steadily throughout his long

reign to weld together, by fair means or foul, a compact Burgundian

nation. On the other hand, I look upon him as a foe rather than a

friend of true progress, because he crushed the self-governing

communes and guilds, the bulwarks of personal liberty in feudal

Europe. Mrs. Professor cares nothing for either of these aspects of

his career, but looks upon him as great for all time because he was an

ardent friend and patron of the fine arts.

In this she is undoubtedly right, for no greater glory belongs to any

of the long line of princes who ruled over Flanders than that which is

associated with his reign--the birth at Bruges of the art of painting

with oils and of the wonderful school of painting represented by the

early Flemish masters. In his _History of Flemish Painting_ Prof. A.

J. Wauters recounts the names and some faint traces of the work of a

few Flemish painters who lived prior to the period of Philip the Good.

At Ghent there are two interesting frescoes dating from about the end

of the thirteenth century. At that city in 1337 the first guild of

sculptors was organised, under the patronage of St. Luke, and similar

corporations were instituted at Tournai in 1341, in Bruges in 1351,

at Louvain by 1360 and Antwerp by 1382. To this guild from the very

earliest period the painters belonged, sometimes the goldsmiths and

goldbeaters being also associated with them. In the same way the

illuminators of Bruges and Ghent, and the tapestry workers of Arras,

Tournai, Valenciennes and Brussels were organised into guilds, and

these associations of men whose work was in a high degree artistic

soon resulted in the transformation of the artisan into the artist.

Philip the Good was not the first of his line to give encouragement to

art and artists. One Jehan de Hasselt was court painter to Count Louis

of Maele, while at the same period the better known Jehan de Bruges

was _peintre et varlet de chambre_ for the King of France. By the end

of the fourteenth century not only the great Dukes of Burgundy and the

Kings of France but many minor princes had their chosen painters,

imagers, illuminators and tapestry workers. Philip the Bold, the first

of the Dukes of Burgundy to rule over Flanders, retained his

father-in-law's painter, Jehan de Hasselt, on his pay-roll for some

time, and later employed a resident of Ypres, Melchior Broederlam,

whose masterpiece was an altar-piece for the Carthusian monastery at

Dijon founded by his patron. Part of this has been preserved and is

now in the museum of Dijon. It is of interest as the first great

painting of the early Flemish school and represents the Annunciation

and Visitation, the Presentation in the Temple, and the Flight into

Egypt. John the Fearless, the next Duke of Burgundy, likewise had his

official painter, but it was not until the reign of Philip the Good

that any of these Ducal artists, with the exception of Broederlam,

achieved more than mediocre results.

The reason for this may have been the medium with which all painters

in those days were accustomed to work. This was called tempera, the

colours being mixed with water, the white of an egg or some other

glutinous substance, then dried in the sun and varnished over. The

colours, however, soon became dull and pale--often fading away

altogether, especially in course of restoration--and the process of

drying was slow and unsatisfactory. To Flanders belongs the honour of

the great discovery of the art of painting with oils that

revolutionised this branch of the fine arts and made the master-works

of the artists of the brush imperishable for all time.

This epoch-making discovery, which is justly looked upon as the birth

of modern painting, was made by the two brothers Van Eyck about the

year 1410. The early accounts attribute the invention wholly to Jean,

the younger of the two brothers, relating that on a certain occasion

he had placed a painting on wood, which had cost him much time and

labour, in the sun to dry when the heat of the sun caused it to crack.

Seeing his work thus ruined at a blow Jean sought to find some

substance that would obviate the necessity of drying his paintings in

the sun and, after many experiments, discovered that linseed oil and

nut oil were by far the most rapid in drying. He further found that

the colours mixed better in oil than with the white of an egg or glue.

They also had more body, a far richer lustre, were impermeable to

water and--what was best of all--dried just as well in the shade as in

the sun. Later scholarship is not inclined to give the entire credit

for this discovery to Jean alone, however, and his elder brother

Hubert is looked upon by some as the one to whom the glory is due.

Probably it was the joint result of innumerable experiments made by

both, each profiting by the mistakes and successes of the other--just

as was the case with the Wright brothers in perfecting the greatest

invention of our own times. There were, of course, other pioneers who

contributed to the great discovery.

The brothers were born at Maeseyck (Eyck-sur-Meuse) near Maestricht,

and took the name of the village as their own in a way that was then

very common. Literally they called themselves Hubert and Jean of Eyck.

They first obtained service under the prince-bishop of Liége, and were

illuminators of manuscripts and statues as well as painters. The

increasing wealth and luxury of Flanders under the Dukes of Burgundy

drew the two brothers to that country and they appear to have been in

the employ of the Count of Charolais, afterwards the Duke Philip the

Good, at about the date assigned by the early historians as that when

the art of painting with oils was discovered. The Count was residing

at that time in the Château des Comtes at Ghent with his young wife

Michelle, sister of the Duke of Orleans. In 1419, when the news of the

murder of John the Fearless, Duke of Burgundy, by the Duke of Orleans

on the bridge of Montereau arrived at Ghent, Philip rushed into his

wife's room crying, "Michelle, Michelle! Your brother has killed my

father!" The shock of this terrible intelligence, and the subsequent

suspicion of her husband that she knew of the plot, caused the poor

little French princess to pine away and die two years later. As a

tribute to her memory the guild of St. Luke was asked by the Duke to

grant the freedom of the guild to her favourite painters, the two Van

Eycks, which was done.

Jean, however, did not remain at Ghent, but took service for a time

under John of Bavaria, whose capital was at The Hague. In 1425 he

became painter and varlet de chambre of Philip the Good, a position he

retained until his death. For a time he seems to have travelled about

with his ducal master, but he eventually settled at Bruges, where most

of his best work was done. Hubert, meanwhile, remained at Ghent,

painting for the rich burghers of that prosperous city. Here he

presently received an order from Jodocus Vydts for an altar-piece for

a chapel he had founded in the Cathedral of St. Bavon in his native

city of Ghent. Hubert began work immediately, planned the great work

and lived to partially complete it when overtaken by death in 1426.

Hubert was recognised as a great painter in his day, the magistrates

of Ghent on one occasion going in state to his studio to inspect a

picture he was painting--which was no doubt the altar-piece for St.

Bavon. He was, however, wholly forgotten by early historians of art

in Flanders, and it is only recently that he has been given his proper

place as one of the first of the great masters of the Flemish school.

The subject chosen by Hubert for the proposed altar-piece was the

Adoration of the Lamb, and the artist, while true to the conventions

of the age in which he lived, achieved a work that is still full of

interest and charm. Like Shakespeare's plays this, the first great

masterpiece of the Flemish school, belongs not to an age but to all

time. In its entirety the work consists of twenty panels and comprises

more than three hundred separate figures. How far it had been

completed at Hubert's death there is no way to tell, although it is

customary to attribute to him the architectural frame, the central

panel showing the lamb, and the large upper panels. Other critics

believe that Jean practically painted the whole picture when he was

commissioned by the donor to complete it. The books on Flemish art

devote many pages to an analytical description of this picture,[1]

which was finally completed by Jean in 1432. The Duke Philip, his

patron, and the magistrates of Bruges visited his studio in state to

inspect the finished picture, which was afterwards publicly exhibited

at Ghent. When it is considered that this is the very first painting

in oil that has come down to us it is in every respect a most

marvellous performance. The three large central panels in the upper

portion are especially noble and impressive, that of "God the Father,"

in the centre, being finely expressive of majesty and repose. In the

panel to the left of the Virgin Mary is a group of youthful angels

singing, who are so skilfully painted that "one can readily tell from

looking at them which is singing the dominant, which the

counter-tenor, and which the tenor and the bass," according to an

early critic. We were told by a Belgian curé with whom we talked about

this wonderful picture shortly before our visit to Ghent that the work

is so fine in its details that in the case of the figures in the

foreground who are holding open in their hands copies of the

Scriptures the very passage at which each book is opened can be

distinguished! We verified this remarkable assertion by the aid of a

glass loaned us by an attendant.

[Footnote 1: See "The Early Flemish Painters," by J. A. Crowe and G.

B. Cavalcaselle, pp. 49-63; and "Belgium, Its Cities," by Grant Allen,

pp. 164-175.]

The subsequent history of the painting is interesting. Philip II, who

carried many Flemish masterpieces away to Spain, admired this one,

but contented himself with a copy by Michel Coxcie, for which he paid

four thousand ducats--which was quite likely more than the Van Eyck

brothers received for the original. About 1578 the Calvinists of Ghent

wished to present the painting to Queen Elizabeth in return for her

support of their sect. For a time it was placed in the Hotel de Ville

at Ghent, but was finally restored to the cathedral. After several

other escapes from destruction or shipment abroad the work was finally

dismembered out of deference to the views of Joseph II of Austria,

during the period of Austrian rule in Flanders. He objected to the

nude figures of Adam and Eve as unsuited to a church, and these were

accordingly removed. The entire work was carried away during the

French Revolution, but was returned some years later. The wings,

however, were not restored to their original position, and were

finally sold to a London dealer for four thousand pounds sterling. He,

in turn, sold them to the King of Prussia, and they are now in the

Museum of Berlin. The wings now at St. Bavon are the copies made by

Coxcie. The original panels of Adam and Eve were stored for many years

in the cellars of St. Bavon, and then were exchanged with the Belgian

Government for the Coxcie wings just mentioned. They are now in the

Brussels Museum. The Adam and Eve at St. Bavon are not even copies of

the originals.

[Illustration: "SINGING ANGELS" FROM "THE ADORATION OF THE

LAMB."--JEAN VAN EYCK.]

Jean Van Eyck enjoyed the confidence and affection of Philip the Good

until his death, and was often sent on diplomatic missions of great

importance. On one occasion he was sent to Portugal with an embassy

appointed to propose a marriage between his ducal patron and the

Princess Isabel. Jean was also commissioned to paint the portrait of

the fair Isabel so that his master could judge for himself whether her

charms were as great as he had fancied them to be. This portrait was

duly painted and in the inventory of the possessions of Margaret of

Austria there was a painting by Jean Van Eyck called _La belle

Portugalaise_, which was, no doubt, the very one painted for Duke

Philip. It must have been pleasing, for he married the lady. As late

as 1516 _La belle Portugalaise_ was still in existence at Malines. It

represented a lady in a red habit with sable trimmings, attended by

St. Nicholas. It has since disappeared--one of the many thousands that

were lost or destroyed during the wars of the sixteenth to the

eighteenth centuries, but both historically and artistically one

of the most interesting of them all. There are a considerable number

of authenticated paintings by Jean Van Eyck still in existence.

Several of these are in the original frames with the artist's famous

motto, "_Als ik kan_" (As I can), more or less legible. It is by no

means unlikely that in time to come one or more of those now lost will

be discovered, thus adding to the priceless heritage that the world

owes to his immortal brush.

[Illustration: _"George Van der Paele, Canon of St. Donatian

worshipping the Madonna" Jean Van Eyck_]

Two of the most celebrated of Jean Van Eyck's paintings can be seen at

Bruges. One of these is in the Museum and shows George Van der Paele,

Canon of St. Donatian, worshipping the Madonna. Of the portrait of the

worthy donor Max Rooses, the Director of the Plantin-Moretus Museum at

Antwerp, says: "The Canon's face is so astoundingly true to life that

it is perhaps the most marvellous piece of painting that ever aspired

to reproduce a human physiognomy. This firm, fat painting renders at

once the cracks of the epidermis and the softness of the flesh. Beside

this head with its lovingly wrought furrows and wrinkles gleam the

dazzling white of the surplice with its greenish shimmer, the intense

red of Mary's mantle, St. Donatian's flowing cape, and the metallic

reflections of St. George's breastplate." Equally fine as an example

of faithful portrait painting is the picture of the artist's wife

which also hangs in this interesting little gallery of old masters.

Four years after Jean Van Eyck's death, which occurred in 1440,

another Flemish painter of note acquired citizen's rights at Bruges.

This was Petrus Christus. The most celebrated of his paintings depicts

the Legend of Ste. Godeberte. The story was that this young lady's

parents had planned a rich marriage for her, whereas she preferred to

enter a convent. The prospective bride and her groom visited a

jeweller's to select the wedding ring and there encountered St. Eloi,

or Elisius, who was both a goldsmith and a bishop. The Saint, knowing

the wishes of the maiden, placed the ring upon her finger himself,

thereby dedicating her to the service of the Lord. This picture was

painted for the Goldsmiths' Guild of Antwerp, passed into the

collection of Baron Oppenheim, of Cologne, and is now in a private

gallery.

Besides the "Adoration of the Lamb," the Cathedral of St. Bavon

possesses enough other notable works of art to equip a small museum.

One of these is the wooden pulpit, carved by P. H. Verbruggen, and

representing the glorification of St. Bavon. Another is the famous

tomb of Bishop Triest carved by Jerome Duquesnoy in 1654. This

represents the Bishop reclining on a couch, and has been termed "the

most beautiful piece of statuary in the country." Still a third

masterpiece is "St. Bavon withdrawing from the World," by Rubens.

There are a score of other paintings and pieces of sculpture of

interest and importance, but all are so over-shadowed by the famous

polyptych that the average tourist scarcely notices them unless he

goes back to this remarkable church several times. In front of the

Château of Girard, and close to the cathedral, stands the impressive

monument to the two Van Eycks erected by the city in 1913. It is by

the sculptor Georges Verbanck and represents the brothers receiving

the homage of the nations.

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