Chapter 2 of 23 · 3907 words · ~20 min read

Part 2

On August 7, 1479, there was a great battle at Guinegatte, between Maximilian and the French. The latter were at first successful, their men at-arms defeated Maximilian’s horse, and chased them off the field, while the free-archers began plundering the baggage, and murdering the non-combatants. But the battle had yet to be decided. Maximilian’s army did not consist solely of horse, for there were two divisions of Flemish pikemen on foot. To the surprise of Philippe de Comines, who gives an account of the battle, the Flemish infantry were not shaken by the defeat of the cavalry; the firm front which they showed was probably owing to a custom which the Burgundians had adopted from their English Allies. Their officers, who in this instance consisted of two hundred of their own nobles and gentlemen, _fought on foot_. These two divisions were severally commanded by the Count of Nassau and the Count of Romont. As soon as a French force could be collected, it was brought up to crush the Flemings; the Count of Nassau’s command was hard pressed, and in spite of a gallant resistance, Maximilian’s guns were taken, and turned on the Burgundians. At this critical moment, the Count of Romont charged with his division, retook the guns, and sweeping on, captured the whole of the French artillery, thirty-seven pieces, with their camp and commissariat stores. This battle is generally spoken of as an indecisive one, because Maximilian retired instead of following up his success. His strategy may have been bad, but, as to the great victory he gained, there can be no doubt. On the Burgundian side, we have the account of Molinet, who tells us that the French lost ten thousand men, thirty-seven guns, and their camp with all its stores. On the French side, we have the account of Philippe de Comines, who endeavours to represent it as a drawn battle; but he does not disguise the effect which the news of this defeat had on his master, Louis XI. He was with him when the tidings came, and _from that very hour_, he tells us, _the French king determined to make peace with Maximilian_. It was on the field of Guinegatte[18] that George Ghiselin, Seigneur of Bousbecque, in company with nine other gentlemen, received knighthood at the hand of Maximilian. It seems certain that he was fighting on foot, with his retainers, in the ranks of the Flemish pikemen.

The scene now changes from the battle-field to the scaffold. The Flemings, as represented by their four members—Ghent, Bruges, Ypres, and the belt of villages known as the Francq—were anxious for peace with France. They had also serious grievances against Maximilian (now King of the Romans) and his ministers. They declared that the latter had misappropriated the revenues, and the former been more grievous in his exactions than Philippe le Bon or Charles the Bold.

They also objected to having German troops quartered in the country.

Early in 1488 the smouldering fires of insurrection burst into a flame. Curiously enough, Maximilian’s treatment of a friend and relation of the Busbecqs was the proximate cause of the outbreak. Adrien de Vilain,[19] Seigneur of Rasenghien, had been one of the leaders of the Gantois after the outbreak in 1485. He had subsequently retired to Lille, with the approval of Maximilian, who had given him a pardon. Here no doubt he felt safe in the neighbourhood of the Ghiselins of Bousbecque and other friends; but one day he was seized by Charlot de Menneville and a party of the Count of Nassau’s archers, who carried him off, and imprisoned him in the castle of Villevorde. His relations were naturally incensed at this breach of faith, and one morning, when the warden of the castle had gone to Brussels, Vilain’s first cousin, Adrien de Lickerke, rode into Villevorde with thirteen of his friends; leaving the rest in the town, he proceeded to the castle with three of his companions, and knocked at the gate. The porter at first refused to admit them, but by dint of entreaties, backed by the offer of a handsome reward, his scruples were at last overcome. On entering, they asked for Adrien Vilain. The porter replied that he was no longer in the castle; but a glance into the court-yard disproved his words, for there was the prisoner drearily pacing up and down in his gown. De Lickerke went up to him. ‘You have been here long enough, fair cousin,’ quoth he, ‘come back with us.’ Vilain’s gown (the civilian dress), was quickly exchanged for a soldier’s doublet, and a hat placed on his head. The porter, seeing their intentions, attempted to raise an alarm, but they hustled him against the wall, and nearly killed him. Quitting the castle with the prisoner they joined their friends in the town, and taking horse rode for their lives. Avoiding Brussels, they made for Tournai, some seventy miles distant, not sparing the spur till they were in a place of safety.

Whether Maximilian had authorised the seizure of Vilain or not, at any rate he was deeply annoyed at his escape. De Lickerke was now a marked man; probably he thought that his safety lay in boldness, for he put himself at the head of 3,000 Gantois, and one wintry night (January 9, 1488) took Courtrai[20] by surprise, making the inhabitants swear allegiance to Philippe (Maximilian’s infant son) and the Gantois.

The King of the Romans was at this time at Bruges, where the States were assembled to conclude a peace with France. The Gantois had committed themselves; it was time for the Brugeois to rise. On the last day of January, 1488, the guild of carpenters made the first move by seizing two of the gates of Bruges,[21] those of St. Catherine and Ghent. Maximilian, with his officers, attendants, and body-guard lay at the Palace (Prinssenhof), not far from the centre of the town; with him were Pierre Lauchast, Carondelet the Chancellor, George Ghiselin, and other faithful followers.

It is difficult to say whether his best plan would have been to remain quiet, or to follow the example of Philippe le Bon,[22] put himself at the head of his guard, and fight his way out of the city. Unfortunately for himself and his friends, he took a middle course. On February 1, between five and six in the morning, he marched into the market-place with his household troops. Leaving the larger portion of them there, he proceeded with his personal attendants to the gates of Ghent and St. Catherine, where he met with scant courtesy from the guard of carpenters.

Meanwhile the troops in the market-place had been standing round a huge bonfire, and it occurred to their commanding officer that it would be a good opportunity to put them through their drill. He gave the order for them to execute a German[23] manœuvre, ‘Faison le limechon à la mode d’Allemagne,’ and marched them round the square in fours. Next he gave the order for them to bring their pikes to the charge; there was a crowd looking on, and, imagining they were about to be attacked, they fled in confusion and dismay. Maximilian, hearing the uproar, returned, and led his men back to their quarters. No blood had been shed, but the mischief had been done.

At twelve o’clock the same day the trades of Bruges met at their several halls, arms were served out, flags were unfurled, and columns of citizens streamed into the market-place. There they formed a regular encampment, planting their fifty-two banners, throwing up entrenchments, and arming them with cannon.

The Brugeois were now masters of the situation. On February 5, at the request of the Gantois, they compelled Maximilian to leave his palace, and lodged him in the famous grocer’s shop in the market-place, known as the Cranenburg. But the king of the Romans was not the chief object of their wrath; it was against his ministers that they vowed their direst vengeance. A reign of terror commenced; rewards were offered for the apprehension of Pierre Lauchast and others connected with the treasury. Maximilian’s friends and advisers were compelled to seek safety in concealment or in flight.

George Ghiselin had his head tonsured, and assumed the dress of a mendicant friar of the Augustin order. In this disguise he attempted to leave the city. Unfortunately he was recognised at the gate, and arrested.

Shortly afterwards he was called up for examination before the town judges, in company with Jehan Van Ninove, and a sergeant named Bontemps. The court had not sat for a full hour, when the dean of the carpenters brought a detachment of his men to the door, and threatened to break it open. The judges, seeing that resistance was useless, allowed them to seize the unfortunate prisoners, whom they straightway carried off to the market-place, and there examined after their own fashion.

The deans of the different trades had enclosed a space for the purpose of holding their consultations; in the middle of this enclosure stood a rack, specially constructed for torturing victims of different sizes. Hard by was a scaffold of unusual size, and there, waiting for his prey, stood Maistre Charles, the executioner of Bruges.

Jehan Van Ninove’s turn came first. He was frightfully tortured, his legs being actually dislocated. Whilst he was being racked, proclamation was made that he had agreed with Pierre Lauchast to bring the troops of the guard into the town for the purpose of intimidating the citizens of Bruges. Bontemps was then tortured, but George Ghiselin was respited. The unfortunate prisoners had now no doubt as to what their ultimate fate would be, and they all three asked to be executed, and forgave those who had compassed their death.

There was one listening on whose ears the words fell with no unwelcome sound; Maistre Charles[24] had an eye to his fees, and determined that there should be no delay on his part. In a trice he was on the scaffold, getting out his swords and preparing his bandages. Then, louder than thunder, swelled the shouting in the market-place, some demanding their immediate execution, and some its postponement. The latter prevailed. Maistre Charles was disappointed of his prey, and the unhappy men were sent back to prison.

On February 28, the leading spirits of the insurrection being absent from the town and engaged in an attack on Middelbourg, the town judges made a most meritorious effort to save the lives of these victims of mob law. They called them up for sentence.[25] Maistre Charles was again in high glee; his swords and bandages were all ready, and his palm itching for the fees. He must have been greatly cast down when the judges passed a merely nominal sentence on George Ghiselin and his companions; they were to beg pardon in their shirts of the deans, make some pilgrimages, and distribute certain sums in charity; the only object of the sentence being to satisfy the people. There was now a gleam of hope for the unhappy men; but, unfortunately, Middelbourg surrendered the same day, and the ringleaders, returning in triumph, were furious at this attempt to frustrate their vengeance. They seized the unfortunate prisoners, and racked them again in the market-place.

On the next day, February 29, 1488, Maistre Charles once more made his preparations, and this time he was not disappointed. Bontemps, whose turn came last, was pardoned by the mob, now glutted with blood, but the rest were all executed, and amongst them died that gallant knight, George Ghiselin, Seigneur of Bousbecque.

_Gilles Ghiselin II., Grandfather of the Ambassador._

George Ghiselin left no children, and on his death the seigneury of Bousbecque passed to his brother Gilles. The latter appears to have entered the public service at an earlier period than his elder brother. Gilles won his spurs from Charles the Bold, and George from Maximilian.

At home and at court, Gilles Ghiselin II. must necessarily have been brought into contact with a man of world-wide fame—Philippe de Comines,[26] the father of modern history. Living within two miles of each other during their boyhood, and connected by marriage, they were both at an early age introduced into the household of Charles the Bold.

The famous Duke of Burgundy made a point of gathering[27] round him and educating his young nobles. Philippe de Comines entered his service when he was about seventeen years old, and it is not improbable that Gilles Ghiselin II. joined his court at the same time. It will be necessary here to give some account of the posts which the two young men severally filled. In the ducal household[28] there were fifty bread-servers, fifty cupbearers, fifty carvers, and fifty equerries, each of whom in battle was accompanied by a swordbearer, and the whole body was commanded by four captains. Thus the officers of Charles the Bold’s house were formed into an organised band of picked troops. In this body Philippe de Comines was enrolled as a cup-bearer, ‘_écuyer échanson_,’ and Gilles Ghiselin II. as a carver, ‘_écuyer trenchant_.’ They were both at a later date appointed chamberlains to the duke, and members of his council; they were also both knighted by their Sovereign, and not improbably on the same occasion.

Philippe de Comines is supposed to have won his spurs on the occasion of the Burgundian and French armies entering Liege, an event rendered familiar to English readers by the pages of _Quentin Durward_. Gilles Ghiselin II. may have received the accolade at the same time.

In August 1472, Philippe de Comines deserted his master, and threw in his lot with Louis XI. of France. Gilles Ghiselin remained constant to the house of Burgundy in sunshine and in shade. He accompanied his master in his numerous campaigns, and was with him at the fatal battle of Nancy.[29]

Gilles Ghiselin must have taken part in many a victory, but it is only the disastrous defeat that is recorded by his descendant on his tomb. That inscription must have been placed by one who valued loyalty above success, and merit above reward. We know who caused that inscription to be engraved; it was his grandson, Ogier Ghiselin de Busbecq.

The death of his master on the fatal field of Nancy, January 1477, apparently marks the termination of Gilles Ghiselin’s military career. Though he did not become Seigneur of Bousbecque till after his brother’s death in 1488, there was probably some family arrangement by which he resided at the château, and represented its absent lord. During his service under Duke Charles, he must have acquired considerable wealth, for shortly after his return to Bousbecque he built the noble church[30] which still stands as a memorial of his munificence. He also rebuilt, or more probably restored, the seigneur’s château, the family residence of the Busbecqs, and there with his wife, Agnes Gommer, he settled down to lead the life of a country gentleman.

He was, however, too valuable a man to be left without work. In 1480, three years after the battle of Nancy, he was appointed High Bailiff of Ypres, ‘grand bailly de la ville, salle et châtellenie d’Ypres.’ This important town, which formed one of the four members of Flanders, is situated about ten miles north of Bousbecque. About six miles from either of these places lies Messines, of which his sister Marie was lady-abbess. The castles of Halluin and Comines were both in the hands of his relations; while in the important town of Lille, Gilles Ghiselin and his wife had a magnificent hotel, whither after her husband’s death Agnes Gommer retired to end her days. It will be seen, therefore, that Gilles Ghiselin II., the grandfather of the Ambassador, was, at this period of his life, a man of very high position and influence. Unlike his brother George, he did not accept any office in the household of Maximilian. It would appear that if Gilles Ghiselin II. was a loyal subject, he was no less a loyal Fleming, and had little taste for the service of the German Archduke, who had been married by his Sovereign. That this is the true reading of his story may be gathered with fair probability from the records of Bousbecque church. It was built by Gilles Ghiselin about 1480. In 1485 a window was presented to this church, blazoned with the arms of Ghent and Rasenghien, by a distant relation of the family, Adrien Vilain, Seigneur of Rasenghien, whose story has already been told. Now in 1485 Adrien Vilain was one of the leaders of the Gantois in opposing Maximilian. It may fairly be inferred that his views met with some sympathy from his friend at Bousbecque. To admit such a window into his church was not the way to curry favour with Maximilian.

With regard to Maximilian’s son Philippe le Beau, Gilles Ghiselin was in a different position. He was the child not only of Maximilian, but also of Mary of Burgundy, and the grandson of his old master Charles the Bold. Moreover, the early education of Philippe had been entrusted to the neighbour, connection, and doubtless intimate friend and ally of the Busbecqs, Jeanne de la Clite,[31] of whom mention has already been made. She probably exercised considerable influence over the selection of the officers of the young prince’s household, and it is not surprising to find that Gilles Ghiselin II. filled the post of _écuyer trenchant_.[32]

It is not probable that Philippe le Beau had like his grandfather fifty squires to discharge the duties of this office. It is more likely that Gilles Ghiselin II. was his sole _écuyer trenchant_, though it is possible that he may have had one or two coadjutors.

On attaining his eighteenth year Philippe was united to Joanna the second daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain. In its political issues this marriage was probably the most important event of its kind in the history of the world. Philippe was already Sovereign of the Low Countries, as his mother’s heir; through his father he was entitled to the reversion of the possessions of the house of Hapsburg, and had practically a claim on the Imperial title. Joanna, on her part, was destined to become by the death of her brother and her nephew heiress of Spain, and to transmit not only Spain itself, but vast empires in the western hemisphere to the descendants of this marriage.

Of Philippe and Joanna were born two sons, Charles V., the famous Emperor, and Ferdinand, who was born in Spain, and brought up there by his grandfather Ferdinand of Aragon, to whom his brother resigned Austria, Styria, and the Tyrol, and who succeeded eventually to the Imperial title. The last of these two princes specially commands our notice, for he it was who invited young Ogier Ghiselin into his service, and sent him first to England, and afterwards to Constantinople.

In November 1501 Philippe and Joanna left the Netherlands for a visit to Spain. The Count of Nassau was entrusted with the government of the country, and with the care of their children whom they left behind them. Their family then consisted of Charles, the future Emperor, and his two sisters, Leonora[33] and Elizabeth.[34] Mechlin was appointed as their residence, and an establishment was created for them, in which the post of _premier écuyer trenchant_ was assigned to Gilles Ghiselin, who had been the faithful servant of their father and their great grandfather.

Gilles Ghiselin did not live to see his young master and mistresses ascend the thrones, to which they were destined; he died in 1514, full of years and honours.

The careers of George and Gilles Ghiselin had an important bearing on the destinies of Ogier; his credentials to Ferdinand were the eminent services of his grandsire and great uncle.

Possibly the calm courage with which he faced the prospect of death and torture at Constantinople, may have arisen in some degree from the memory of what his ancestors had been.

In Bousbecque church still stands the monument which marks Ogier’s regard for the grandsire he never saw.

To this object he devoted what was probably the first large sum he was able to save from his salary as ambassador.

It bears the date 1559, and the following inscription:—

CY GIST MESSIRE GILLES CHEVALIER SEIGNEUR DE BOUSBEKE FILZ DE FEU GILLES AUSSY CHEVALIER EN SON TEMPS S^R DUDICTE BOUSBEKE DU HEULLEHOF ET WASTINES &C EN SON TEMPS ESCUIER TRENCHANT A FEU DUC CHARLE DE BOURGOGNE LE SERVIT A LA JOURNEE DE NANSY ET DEPUIS AU DICT ESTAT A TRES PUISSANT ROY PHILIPPE DE CASTILLE ET PREMIER ESCUIER TRENCHANT A MESSEUR LES ENFFANS DU ROY QUAND IL SE PARTIT DES PAYS DEMBAS POUR ESPAIGNE LEQUEL TERMINA VIE PAR MORT LE XVIII^E JO^R DU MOIS D’APVRIL ANNO XV^CXIIII ET DAME AGNIES GOMMER SA COMPAIGNE EN SON TEMPS DAME DESPLANQUES, ET DE LE PHALESQUES LAQUELLE TERMINA VIE PAR MORT LE SECOND JOUR DE JUILLET XV^CXLI PROES DIEU POUR LEURS AMES.

_Jeanne de la Clite and her son George Halluin._

Hitherto the family history has been traced, but before proceeding further, it will be necessary to describe the man to whom the Ambassador must have owed more than to anyone else.

This was George Halluin, son of Jeanne de la Clite, cousin of Philippe de Comines,[35] and an intimate friend of the great Erasmus. Mention has already been made of alliances between the Busbecqs and the Halluins; in the map it will be seen that Bousbecque lies half way between Halluin and Comines, being about two miles distant from either.

Towards the end of the fourteenth century, Colard de la Clite I. married Jeanne de Wazières, Lady of Comines, and thus became seigneur of the place. He had two sons, (1) Jean de la Clite I.,[36] Seigneur of Comines, guardian of Philippe de Comines; (2) Colard de la Clite II., dit de Comines, father of Philippe de Comines.

Jean de la Clite I. married Jeanne de Ghistelles, and had a son, Jean de la Clite II., who was united to Jeanne d’Estouteville.

The sole child of the pair last mentioned was Jeanne de la Clite, who was destined to exercise so important an influence on the current of modern history.

It will be seen therefore that Jeanne de la Clite was the granddaughter, and Philippe de Comines the nephew, of Jean de la Clite I., but though the girl belonged to a younger generation, she was older than her cousin Philippe, having been born in the Castle of Comines in 1440, while the historian was born in the same place in 1445.

Philippe de Comines, being yet a child when his father died, was handed over to the care of his uncle; and there is a manifest probability that he and Jeanne were brought up together. His name is famous, she was one of the most accomplished women of her age. As she was so much older, it is probable that hers was the predominating influence: what that influence was likely to be may be traced in the education she bestowed on her son.

Charles the Bold, as has been already stated, made his court a sort of school for young men of noble birth; it was not likely therefore that he would neglect the education of his only child.

He provided for it by appointing Jeanne de la Clite as _première gouvernante_ to the young princess.