DAMME--THE SEA-FIGHT AT SLUIS--SPLENDOUR OF BRUGES IN THE MIDDLE
AGES--THE FALL AND LOSS OF TRADE
Damme, where the patriots mustered on the eve of the Bruges Matins,
is within a short hour's stroll from the east end of the town. The
Roya, which disappears from view, as we have already seen, opposite
the Quai du Rosaire, emerges from its hidden course at the west end
of the Quai du Miroir, where the statue of Jan van Eyck stands near
the door of the building now used as a public library. This building
was once the Customs House of Bruges, conveniently situated in the
neighbourhood of the Market-Place, and on the side of the Roya, which
thence stretches eastwards between the Quai du Miroir and the Quai
Spinola for a few hundred yards, and then turns sharply to the north,
and continues between the Quai Long and the Quai de la Potterie, which
are built in rambling fashion on either side of the water. Some of
the houses are old, others of no earlier date, apparently, than the
seventeenth or eighteenth centuries; some large and well preserved,
and some mere cottages, half ruinous, with low gables and faded yellow
fronts, huddled together on the rough causeway, alongside of which are
moored canal-boats with brown hulls and deck-houses gay with white
and green paint. At the end of the Quai de la Potterie is the modern
Bassin de Commerce, in which the Roya loses itself, the harbour for the
barges and small steamers which come by the canal connecting Ostend
with Bruges and Ghent; and near this was, in ancient days, the Porte de
Damme, through which Breidel and his followers burst on that fateful
morning in May 600 years ago.
To the right of the Bassin a broad canal, constructed by Napoleon in
1810, extends in a straight line eastwards, contained within dykes
which raise it above a wide expanse of level meadow-lands intersected
by ditches, and dotted here and there by the white-walled cottages with
red roofs and green outside shutters which are so typical of Flemish
scenery. About two miles out of Bruges one comes in sight of a windmill
perched on a slope at the side of the canal, a square church-tower,
a few houses, and some grassy mounds, which were once strong
fortifications. Even the historical imagination, which everyone who
walks round Bruges must carry with him, is hardly equal to realizing
that this was once a bustling seaport, with a harbour in which more
than a hundred merchant ships, laden with produce from all parts of
the world, were sometimes lying at the same time. In those busy times
Damme, they say, contained 50,000 inhabitants; now there are only about
1,100.
Beyond Damme the canal winds on through the same flat landscape,
low-lying, water-logged, with small farm-houses and scanty trees, and
in the distance, on the few patches of higher ground, the churches
of Oostkerke and Westcapelle. At last, soon after passing the Dutch
frontier, the canal ends in a little dock with gray, lichen-covered
sides; and this is Sluis, a dull place, with a few narrow streets, a
market-place, two churches, and a belfry of the fourteenth century.
It is quite inland now, miles from the salt water; and from the high
ramparts which still surround it the view extends to the north across
broad green fields, covering what was once the bed of the sea, in the
days when the tide ebbed and flowed in the channel of the Zwijn, over
which ships passed sailing on their way to Bruges. But any English
traveller who, having gone a little way out of the beaten track of
summer tourists, may chance to mount the ramparts, and look down upon
the fields which stretch away to the shores of the North Sea and the
estuary of the Scheldt, and inland beyond Damme to the Belfry and the
spires of Bruges, is gazing on the scene of a great event in the naval
history of England.
Here, on what is now dry land, on the morning of June 24, 1340, 800
ships of war, full of armed men--35,000 of them--were drawn up in line
of battle; and further out to sea, beyond the entrance of the Zwijn,
the newly-risen sun was shining on the sails of another fleet which was
manoeuvring in the offing.
[Illustration: BRUGES
Quai du Miroir.]
'In the cities of Flanders,' says Dr. Gardiner, 'had arisen
manufacturing populations which supplied the countries round with
the products of the loom. To the Ghent and Bruges of the Middle Ages
England stood in the same relation as that which the Australian
colonies hold to the Leeds and Bradford of our own day. The sheep which
grazed over the wide, unenclosed pasture-lands of our island formed a
great part of the wealth of England, and that wealth depended entirely
on the flourishing trade with the Flemish towns in which English
wool was converted into cloth.' When, therefore, Edward III. claimed
the throne of France, and the Hundred Years' War began, it was of vital
importance to the trade of Flanders and England that the merchants of
the two countries should maintain friendly relations with each other.
But Philip of Valois had persuaded the Count of Flanders, Louis de
Nevers, to order the arrest of all the English in Flanders, and Edward
had retaliated by arresting all the Flemings who were in England,
and forbidding the export of English wool to Flanders. The result
was that the weavers of Bruges and the other manufacturing towns of
Flanders found themselves on the road to ruin; and, having no interest
in the question at issue between the Kings of France and England,
apart from its effect on their commercial prosperity, the burghers of
Bruges, Ghent, and Ypres, under the leadership of the famous Jacob van
Artevelde (anticipating, as one of the modern historians of Bruges has
noticed, what the Great Powers did for Belgium in 1830[6]), succeeded
in securing, with the assent of Philip, the neutrality of Flanders.
The French King, however, did not keep faith with the Flemings, but
proceeded to acts of aggression against them, and a league against
France was formed between England and Flanders.
In June, 1340, Edward, who was then in England, hearing that an immense
number of French ships of war were at anchor in the Zwijn, set sail
to give them battle with a squadron of 300 vessels. The English fleet
anchored off the coast between Blankenberghe and Heyst on the evening
of June 23, and from the top of the dunes the English scouts saw in the
distance the masts of the French ships in the Zwijn.
As soon as there was light next morning, the English weighed anchor
and sailed along the coast to the east; past lonely yellow sands,
which have swarmed during recent years with workmen toiling at the
construction of the immense harbour of See-Brugge, which is to be the
future port of Bruges; past what was then the small fishing hamlet of
Heyst; past a range of barren dunes, amongst which to-day Duinbergen,
the latest of the Flemish watering-places, with its spacious hotel and
trim villas, is being laid out; past a waste of storm-swept sand and
rushes, on which are now the digue of Knocke, a cluster of hotels and
crowded lodging-houses, and a golf-course; and so onwards till they
opened the mouth of the Zwijn, and saw the French ships crowding the
entrance, 'their masts appearing to be like a great wood,' and beyond
them the walls of Sluis rising from the wet sands left by the receding
tide.
It was low-water, and while waiting for the turn of the tide the
English fleet stood out to sea for some time, so that Nicholas
Béhuchet, the French Admiral, began to flatter himself that King
Edward, finding himself so completely outnumbered, would not dare to
risk fighting against such odds. The odds, indeed, were nearly three to
one against the English seamen; but as soon as the tide began to flow
they steered straight into the channel, and, Edward leading the van,
came to close quarters, ship to ship. The famous archers of England,
who six years later were to do such execution at Crécy, lined the
bulwarks, and poured in a tempest of arrows so thick that men fell
from the tops of the French ships like leaves before a storm. The
first of the four lines in which Béhuchet had drawn up his fleet was
speedily broken, and the English, brandishing their swords and pikes,
boarded the French ships, drove their crews overboard, and hoisted the
flag of England. King Edward was wounded, and the issue may have been
doubtful, when suddenly more ships, coming from the North of England,
appeared in sight, and hordes of Flemings from all parts of Flanders,
from the coast, and even from inland towns so far away as Ypres,[7]
came swarming in boats to join in the attack. This decided the fate
of the great battle, which continued till sunset. When it ended, the
French fleet had ceased to exist, with the exception of a few ships
which escaped when it was dark. The Flemings captured Béhuchet, and
hung him then and there. Nearly 30,000 of his men perished, many of
whom were drowned while attempting to swim ashore, or were clubbed to
death by the Flemings who lined the beach, waiting to take vengeance
on the invaders for having burned their homesteads and carried off
their flocks. The English lost two ships and 4,000 men; but the victory
was so complete that no courtier was bold enough to carry the news to
King Philip, who did not know what had befallen his great fleet till
the Court jester went to him, and said, 'Oh! the English cowards! the
English cowards! they had not the courage to jump into the sea as our
noble Frenchmen did at Sluis.'
It is strange to think that Flemish peasants work, and cattle feed,
and holiday visitors from Knocke, or Sluis, or Kadzand ramble about
dry-shod where the waves were rolling in on that midsummer's morning,
and that far beneath the grass the timbers of so many stout ships and
the bones of so many valiant seamen have long since mouldered away. And
it is also strange to think, when wandering along the canals of Bruges,
where now the swans glide silently about in the almost stagnant water
which laps the basements of the old houses, how in the fourteenth and
fifteenth centuries ships of every nation carried in great bales of
merchandise, and that rich traders stored them in warehouses and strong
vaults, which are now mere coal-cellars, or the dark and empty haunts
of the rats which swarm in the canals.
'There is,' says Mr. Robinson, 'in the National Library at Paris a
list of the kingdoms and cities which sent their produce to Bruges at
that time. England sent wool, lead, tin, coal, and cheese; Ireland and
Scotland, chiefly hides and wool; Denmark, pigs; Russia, Hungary, and
Bohemia, large quantities of wax; Poland, gold and silver; Germany,
wine; Liége, copper kettles; and Bulgaria, furs.' After naming many
parts of Europe, Asia, and Africa, that sent goods, the manuscript
adds: 'And all the aforesaid realms and regions send their merchants
with wares to Flanders, besides those who come from France, Poitou, and
Gascony, and from the three islands of which we know not the names of
their kingdoms.' The trade of Bruges was enormous. People flocked there
from all quarters.
'Lombard and Venetian merchants with deep-laden argosies;
Ministers from twenty nations; more than royal pomp and ease.'
We read of 150 ships entering in one day, and of German merchants
buying 2,600 pieces of cloth, made by Flemish weavers, in a morning's
marketing. A citizen of Bruges was always at the head of the Hanseatic
League, and maintained the rights of that vast commercial society
under the title of 'Comte de la Hanse.' Merchant princes, members of
the Hanse, lived here in palaces. Money-changers grew rich. Edward
III. borrowed from the Bardi at Bruges on the security of the Crown
jewels of England. Contracts of insurance against maritime risks were
entered into from an early period, and the merchant shipping code which
regulated traffic by sea was known as the 'Röles de Damme.'[8] There
were twenty consulates at one time in Bruges, and the population of
the town is said, though it is difficult to believe that this is not an
exaggeration, to have been more than 200,000 before the middle of the
fourteenth century.
Six years after the Battle of Sluis, Louis of Nevers was killed at
Crecy, and his son, Louis of Maele, reigned in his stead as Count of
Flanders. He was a Leliart to the core, and his reign of nearly forty
years, one long struggle against the liberties of his people, witnessed
the capture of Bruges by Philip van Artevelde, the invasion of Flanders
by the French, the defeat of the Nationalists, and the death of Van
Artevelde on the field of Roosebeke. Nevertheless, during this period
and after it Bruges grew in beauty and in wealth. The Hôtel de Ville,
without the grandeur of the Hôtel de Ville at Brussels, but still a gem
of mediæval architecture, was built on the site of the old 'Ghiselhuis'
of Baldwin Bras-de-Fer. Other noble buildings, rich in design and
beautiful in all their outlines, and great mansions, with marble halls
and ceilings of exquisitely carved woodwork, rose on every side; towers
and pinnacles, shapely windows and graceful arches, overhung the
waterways; luxury increased; in the homes of the nobles and wealthy
merchants were stores of precious stones, tapestries, silk, fine
linen, cloth of gold; the churches and many buildings gleamed with
gilded stone and tinted glass and brilliant frescoes. Art flourished as
the town grew richer. The elder and the younger Van Eyck, Gerard David,
and Memlinc, with many others before and after them, were attracted by
its splendour, as modern painters have been attracted by its decay; and
though the 'Adoration of the Immaculate Lamb' hangs in the choir of St.
Bavon at Ghent, the genius which coloured that matchless altar-piece
found its inspiration within the walls of Bruges.
The history of Bruges for many long years, especially under the
rule of the House of Burgundy, was, in the midst of war, turmoil,
and rebellion, the history of continuous progress. But all this
prosperity depended on the sea. So long as the Zwijn remained open,
neither war nor faction, not even the last great rising against the
Archduke Maximilian, which drove away the foreign merchants, most
of whom went to Antwerp, and so impoverished the town that no less
than 5,000 houses were standing empty in the year 1405,[9] could have
entirely ruined Bruges. These disasters might have been retrieved if
the channel of communication with Damme and Sluis had not been lost;
but for a long time the condition of this important waterway had been
the cause of grave anxiety to the people of Bruges. The heavy volume
of water which poured with every ebbing tide down the Scheldt between
Flushing and Breskens swept past the island of Walcheren, and spread
out into the North Sea and down the English Channel, leaving the mud
it carried with it on the sands round the mouth of the Zwijn, which
itself did not discharge a current strong enough to prevent the slow
but sure formation of a bank across its entrance. Charters, moreover,
had been granted to various persons, under which they drained the
adjoining lands, and gradually reclaimed large portions from the sea.
The channel, at no time very deep, became shallower, narrower, and
more difficult of access, until at last, during the second half of the
fifteenth century, the passage between Sluis and Damme was navigable
only by small ships. Soon the harbour at Damme was nearly choked up
with sand. Many schemes were tried in the hope of preserving the Zwijn,
but the sea-trade of Bruges dwindled away to a mere nothing, and
finally disappeared before the middle of the sixteenth century. And so
Bruges fell from greatness. There are still some traces of the ancient
bed of the Zwijn amongst the fields near Coolkerke, a village a short
distance to the north of Bruges--a broad ditch with broken banks, and
large pools of slimy water lying desolate and forlorn in a wilderness
of tangled bushes. These are now the only remains of the highway by
which the 'deep-laden argosies' used to enter in the days of old.
FOOTNOTES.
[Footnote 6: Robinson, _Bruges, an Historical Sketch_, p. 107.]
[Footnote 7: Vereecke, _Histoire Militaire de la Ville d'Ypres_, p. 36.]
[Footnote 8: Gilliodts van Severen, _Bruges Ancienne et Moderne_, p.
14.]
[Footnote 9: Gilliodts van Severen, p. 25.]