BALDWIN BRAS-DE-FER--THE PLACE DU BOURG--MURDER OF CHARLES THE GOOD
Towards the end of the ninth and at the beginning of the tenth century
great changes took place on the banks of the Roya, and the foundations
of Bruges as we know it now were laid. Just as in the memorable years
1814 and 1815 the empire of Napoleon fell into fragments, and princes
and statesmen hastened to readjust the map of Europe in their own
interests, so in the ninth century the empire of Charlemagne was
crumbling away; and in the scramble for the spoils, the Normans carried
fire and sword into Flanders. Charles the Bald, King of the Franks,
at this crisis called to his aid the strong arm of Baldwin, a Flemish
chief of whose ancestry we know little, but who soon became famous as
Baldwin Bras-de-Fer--Baldwin of the Iron Arm, so called because, in
peace or war, he was never seen without his coat of mail. This grim
warrior had fallen in love with the daughter of Charles the Bald,
Judith, who had been already twice married, first to the Saxon King
Ethelwulf (after the death of his first wife Osberga, mother of Alfred
the Great) and secondly to Ethelbald, on whose death she left England
and went to live at Senlis. Baldwin persuaded the Princess to run away
with him; and they were married without the knowledge of her father,
to escape whose vengeance the culprits fled to Rome. Pope Nicholas
I. brought about a reconciliation; and Charles not only pardoned his
son-in-law, but appointed him ruler of Flanders under the title of
Marquis, which was afterwards changed into that of Count. It is to
the steel-clad Baldwin Bras-de-Fer that the Counts of Flanders trace
the origin of their title; and he was, moreover, the real founder of
that Bruges which rose to such glory in the Middle Ages, and is still,
though fallen from its high estate, the picturesque capital of West
Flanders, whither artists flock to wander about amidst the canals and
bridges, the dismantled ramparts, the narrow streets with their curious
houses, and the old buildings which bear such eloquent testimony to
the ruin which long ago overtook what was once an opulent and powerful
city. When the wrath of his father-in-law had been appeased, Baldwin,
now responsible for the defence of Flanders, came to Bruges with his
wife, and there established his Court. But the old burg, it seems,
was not thought capable of holding out against the Normans, who could
easily land on the banks of the Zwijn; and Baldwin, therefore, set
about building a new stronghold on the east side of the old burg, and
close to it. It was surrounded partly by the main stream of the Roya,
and partly by backwaters flowing from it. Here he built a fortress
for himself and his household, a church dedicated to St. Donatian, a
prison, and a 'ghiselhuis,' or house for the safe keeping of hostages.
The whole was enclosed by walls, built close to the edge of the
surrounding waters.
The Roya is now vaulted over where it ran along the west side of
Baldwin's stronghold, separating it from the original burg, and the
watercourses which defended it on the north and east are filled up;
but the stream on the south still remains in the shape of the canal
which skirts the Quai des Marbriers, from which a bridge leads by a
narrow lane, called the Rue de l'Âne Aveugle, under an arch of gilded
stonework, into the open space now known as the Place du Bourg. Here
we are at the very heart of Bruges, on the ground where Baldwin's
stronghold stood, with its four gates and drawbridges, and the high
walls frowning above the homes of the townsmen clustering round them.
The aspect of the place is completely changed since those early days. A
grove of chestnut-trees covers the site of the Church of St. Donatian;
not a stone remains of Bras-de-Fer's rude palace; and instead of the
prison and the hostage-house, there are the Hôtel de Ville, now more
than five hundred years old, from whose windows the Counts of Flanders
swore obedience to the statutes and privileges of the town, the Palais
de Justice, and the dark crypt beneath the chapel which shelters the
mysterious Relic of the Holy Blood.
[Illustration: BRUGES
Rue de l'Âne Aveugle (showing end of Town Hall and Bridge connecting it
with Palais de Justice).]
In summer it is a warm, quiet, pleasant spot. Under the shade of
the trees, near the statue of Van Eyck, women selling flowers sit
beside rows of geraniums, roses, lilies, pansies, which give a touch
of bright colour to the scene. Artists from all parts of Europe
set up their easels and paint. Young girls are gravely busy with
their water-colours. Black-robed nuns and bare-footed Carmelites
pass silently along. Perhaps some traveller from America opens his
guide-book to study the map of a city which had risen to greatness
long before Columbus crossed the seas. A few English people hurry
across, and pass under the archway of the Rue de l'Âne Aveugle on the
way to their tennis-ground beyond the Porte de Gand. The sunshine
glitters on the gilded façade of the Palais de Justice, and lights up
the statues in their niches on the front of the Hôtel de Ville. There
is no traffic, no noise. Everything is still and peaceful. The chimes,
ever and anon ringing out from the huge Belfry, which rises high above
the housetops to the west, alone break the silence.
This is Bruges sleeping peacefully in old age, lulled to rest by the
sound of its own carillon. But it is easy, standing there, to recall
the past, and to fancy the scenes which took place from time to time
throughout the long period of foreign danger and internal strife. We
can imagine the Bourg, now so peaceful, full of armed men, rushing to
the Church of St. Donatian on the morning when Charles the Good was
slain; how, in later times, the turbulent burghers, fiery partisans of
rival factions, Clauwerts shouting for the Flemish Lion, and Leliarts
marshalled under the Lily of France, raged and threatened; how the
stones were splashed with blood on the day of the Bruges Matins, when
so many Frenchmen perished; or what shouts were raised when the Flemish
host came back victorious from the Battle of the Golden Spurs.
Though every part of Bruges--not only the Bourg, but the great
Market-Place, and the whole maze of streets and lanes and canals of
which it consists--has a story of its own, some of these stories stand
out by themselves; and amongst these one of the most dramatic is the
story of the death of Charles the Good.
More than two hundred and fifty years had passed away since the coming
of Baldwin Bras-de-Fer; Bruges had spread far beyond the walls of the
Bourg; and Charles, who had succeeded his cousin Baldwin VII., was
Count of Flanders. He was called 'the Good' because of his just rule
and simple life, and still more, perhaps, because he clothed and fed
the poor--not only in Bruges, but throughout all Flanders. The common
people loved him, but his charities gave offence to the rich. He had,
moreover, incurred the special enmity of the Erembalds, a powerful
family, who, though not of noble origin themselves, were connected by
marriage with many noble houses. They had supported his claim to the
throne of Flanders, which had been disputed, and he had rewarded their
services by heaping favours on them. But, after a time, they began to
oppose the methods of government which Charles applied to Flanders.
They resented most of all one of his decrees which made it unlawful
for persons not in his service to carry arms in time of peace. This
decree, which was pronounced in order to prevent the daily scenes of
violence which Charles abhorred, was declared by the Erembalds to be an
interference with Flemish liberty. It did not affect them personally,
for they held office under the Count; but they none the less opposed it
vehemently.
While Charles was thus on bad terms with the Erembalds, a deadly
feud existed between them and the Straetens, another notable family,
which grew to such a height that the rival clans made open war upon
each other, pillaging, burning, and slaying after the manner of these
times. Charles called the leaders of both sides before him, and made
them swear to keep the peace; but when he was at Ypres in the autumn
of 1126, a complaint was laid before him that Bertulf, head of the
Erembalds, who was also Provost of St. Donatian's, had sent one of his
nephews, Burchard by name, on a raid into the lands of the Straetens,
whose cattle he had carried off. On hearing of this outrage, Charles
gave orders that Burchard's house should be pulled down, and that he
should compensate the Straetens for their losses. The Erembalds were
powerless to resist this order, and Burchard's house was razed to the
ground.
It has been said that this was only the beginning of strong measures
which Charles was about to take against the Erembalds; but there is no
certainty as to what his intentions really were. He then lived in the
Loove, a mansion which he had built in the Bourg at Bruges, on the site
now occupied by the Palais de Justice; and there, on his return from
Ypres, he had a meeting with some of the Erembalds, who had been sent
to plead on behalf of Burchard. As to what took place at this interview
there is some doubt. According to one account, Charles drank wine with
the delegates, and granted a free pardon to Burchard, on condition
that he kept the peace. According to another account, his demeanour
was so unbending that the Erembalds left his presence full of angry
suspicions, which they communicated to their friends. Whatever may have
happened, they were bent on mischief. Burchard was sent for, and
a secret consultation was held, after which Burchard and a chosen few
assembled in a house on the Bourg and arranged their plans. This was on
the night of March 1, 1127.
[Illustration: BRUGES
Quai du Rosaire.]
At break of day next morning a cold, heavy mist hung low over Bruges,
and in the Bourg everything was shrouded in darkness. But already some
poor men were waiting in the courtyard of the Loove, to whom Charles
gave alms on his way to early Mass in the Church of St. Donatian. Then
he went along a private passage which led into the church, and knelt
in prayer before the Lady Altar. It was his custom to give help to the
needy when in church, and he had just put some money into the hands of
a poor woman, when suddenly she called out: 'Beware, Sir Count!' He
turned quickly round, and there, sword in hand, was Burchard, who had
stolen up the dim aisle to where Charles was kneeling. The next moment
Burchard struck, and Charles fell dead upon the steps of the altar.
Then followed a scene of wild confusion. The woman ran out into the
Bourg, calling loudly that the Count was slain. In the midst of the
uproar some of the royal household fled in terror, while others who
entered the church were butchered by the Erembalds, who next attacked
the Loove, and, having pillaged it, rushed over Bruges, slaughtering
without mercy all who dared to oppose them.
After some time one of the Count's servants ventured to cover the dead
body with a winding-sheet, and to surround it with lighted tapers; and
there it remained lying on the pavement, until at last the Erembalds,
who were afraid to bury it in Bruges lest the sight of the tomb of
Charles the Good should one day rouse the townsmen to avenge his death,
sent a message to Ghent, begging the Abbot of St. Peter's to take it
away and bury it in his own church. The Abbot came to Bruges, and
before dawn the body of the murdered Count was being stealthily carried
along the aisles of St. Donatian's, when a great crowd rushed in,
declaring that the bones of Charles must be allowed to rest in peace at
Bruges. The arches rang with cries, chairs were overturned, stools and
candlesticks were thrown about, as the people, pressing and struggling
round the Abbot and his servants, told Bertulf, with many an oath, that
he must yield to their wishes. At last the Provost submitted, and on
the morrow, just two days after the murder, the body of Charles was
buried before the Lady Altar, on the very spot, it is said, where the
statue of Van Eyck now stands under the trees in the Bourg.
The triumph of the Erembalds was short, for the death of Charles the
Good was terribly avenged by his friends, who came to Bruges at the
head of a large force. A fierce struggle took place at the Rue de l'Âne
Aveugle, where many were slain. The Erembalds were driven into the
Bourg, the gates of which they shut; but an entrance was forced, and,
after desperate fighting, some thirty of them, all who remained alive,
were compelled to take refuge, first in the nave and then in the tower
of the Church of St. Donatian, where, defending themselves with the
courage of despair, they made a last stand, until, worn out by fatigue
and hunger, they surrendered and came down. Bertulf the Provost,
Burchard, and a few of the other ringleaders had fled some days before,
and so escaped, for a time at least, the fate of their companions,
who, having been imprisoned in a dungeon, were taken to the top of the
church tower and flung down one by one on to the stones of the Bourg.
'Their bodies,' says Mr. Gilliat-Smith, 'were thrown into a marsh
beyond the village of St. André, and for years afterwards no man after
nightfall would willingly pass that way.' In the Church of St. Sauveur
there is a costly shrine containing what are said to be the bones of
Charles the Good, taken from their first resting-place, at which twice
every year a festival is held in commemoration of his virtues.