OF more interest than Philip the Bold or John the Fearless is the beautiful Jacqueline of Bavaria, who was married to John’s nephew, John of Brabant. According to tradition, Jacqueline, heiress to the counties of Holland and Hainault, was the most charming and gifted woman of her day. John, Duke of Brabant, was in no respect her equal. He subjected her to endless indignities and persecutions, and she at last fled from Brussels to the court of Henry V of England, where she found protection.

The assassination of John the Fearless by followers of the dauphin of France gave Burgundy and Flanders to his son Philip the Good. It was Philip’s ambition to consolidate all the Belgic provinces under the rule of Burgundy, and thus to create a strong border state between France and Germany, and he was not too scrupulous as to the means he used in attaining his end. He wrested from the unfortunate Jacqueline first her county of Hainault, then the provinces of Holland and Zealand in the northern Netherlands. He also succeeded to the duchy of Brabant, and gained by purchase the duchy of Luxembourg. Having induced the Emperor to renounce his rights as overlord, Philip was now the head of an independent state nearly as large as the modern countries of Holland and Belgium.

It was Philip the Good who summoned the Grand Council to administer the laws for all his Belgic territory. He often called together the States-General, composed of the nobles. From this was developed in time a parliament, in which sat representatives of the nobles, the gentry and the communes, these last being called the Third Estate. But with this progress toward consolidation, there was always one powerful disintegrating force at work—the lack of any bond of union between the towns. The jealousies of these little rival states kept them involved in continual petty warfare, and even restrained them from offering assistance to one another in the face of a common danger. A story drawn from the old chroniclers will furnish a picture of the times.

In 1436, Philip led a large force of Flemings against the English stronghold of Calais, which made a stubborn defense, and the besiegers lost many men in the encounters outside the walls. As the Dutch fleet, which had been relied upon to assist Philip by blockading the port, had not appeared, the English were abundantly supplied with provisions, while their enemies were almost at the end of their resources. The garrison was in the habit of pasturing its cattle outside the ramparts under a strong guard, in defiance of the Flemings. One morning a large troop of Ghenters threw themselves upon a particularly fine herd, and had already seized a part of it, when they found themselves caught in an English ambuscade and driven with the animals into the city itself. Their rivals, the Brugeois, encamped near by, took their time about offering assistance and were too late to be of any service. The Duke’s following never interfered in these skirmishes, for which his permission was never asked.

We catch a glimpse of the splendour of these Burgundian days in the contemporary description of the Assembly of Arras, which met, the year previous to Philip’s attempt on Calais, to conclude a peace between France and England. Here were ambassadors from England—among them Henry, Cardinal of Winchester, and Richard, Earl of Warwick—envoys from Charles VII of France, from the Emperor, from the kings of Spain, Portugal, Sicily, Navarre, Denmark and Poland, besides the legate from the Pope and the chief vassals and friends of Philip himself. Among the brilliant retinues that accompanied and guarded these lords, that of the Bishop of LiÈge was singled out for mention. This prelate, one of the most powerful Belgic nobles, was surrounded by two hundred gentlemen dressed in dazzling white costumes and mounted on white horses. The Duke of Burgundy had a bodyguard composed of one hundred gentlemen and two hundred archers, who never left his side.

This assembly was one of the largest in the fifteenth century. Fifty thousand visitors were entertained and ten thousand horses were taken care of for some weeks in the city. On the arrival of the French Embassy Philip went to meet them, accompanied by the Duchess Isabella, who rode in a magnificent litter, followed by several grandes dames richly dressed and mounted on beautiful gray palfreys. Before the sessions of this august council began, a brilliant tournament was celebrated, in which a Spaniard, Jean de Marle, was the victor. Then the lords repaired to the monastery of Saint-Vaast for their sessions.

It may be added that this assembly was unable to make peace between France and England, the English refusing to withdraw the claim of Henry VI to the crown of France, and the French declining to accept any other terms.

While the great cities of Flanders furnished by far the larger part of the Duke’s soldiery—it is said that Ghent, Bruges and Ypres could together have armed 100,000 men, had it been necessary, without arresting the course of their industries—they were often a most uncertain support, as the history of the same siege illustrates. After weary weeks of waiting, the Dutch fleet at last appeared, but was soon dispersed by English ships. At this juncture the Ghenters declared they were going home. In vain the Duke threatened and then entreated. Neither tears nor menaces could move them. “The trumpets sounded, the troops, with waving banners, marched away.” Scarcely had the Ghenters disappeared when the other Flemings followed their example, and the helpless Duke was forced to bring up the rear with his nobles.

The Order of the Golden Fleece was established at Bruges by Philip the Good at the time of his marriage to Princess Isabella of Portugal. The Golden Fleece suggested the importance of Bruges as the center of the trade in wool, while the story of Jason embodied the principles of chivalry. The first motto of the order was changed later to that of the house of Burgundy—“Je l’ai emprins,” (I have undertaken it). The organization was to consist of twenty-four knights besides the prince at its head, who were privileged to be tried only by the members of the order, thus being protected against despotic sovereigns as well as against the laws of their country. Philip II of Spain was the first to violate this privilege, in the execution of Counts Egmont and Hoorn. In the eighteenth century, the order of the Golden Fleece was divided into two branches, those of Austria and Spain.

Philip the Good, although a vassal of both France and the Empire, was from the central position of his provinces and the number of rich trading cities that they contained, more powerful than either the French king or the Emperor. His son and successor, Charles the Rash, called “the proudest, most daring and most unmanageable prince that ever made the sword the type and the guarantee of greatness,” seems to have coveted a domain that should include the whole of ancient Lotharingia, or the region watered by the Rhine, the Rhone and the Po, and even to have dreamed of invading Italy. He spent his reign in a series of unsuccessful campaigns, in the last of which he lost his life, and left to his daughter Mary the heritage of a large state, composed of many principalities—little states surrounded by enemies and with no bond of union among themselves.

Louis XI of France at once seized the Duchy of Burgundy, which was ever afterwards a part of the French dominion. The County of Burgundy with the Netherlands remained under Mary’s rule. The towns were not slow in reasserting their rights and recovering the privileges that had been wrested from them by the Burgundian princes. Mary married Maximilian of Austria, son of the Emperor Frederick III, and at her death, a few years later, left two children, Philip the Fair and Margaret of Austria.

Philip espoused Joanna, daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella of Castile and Aragon, and became the father of Charles V. Then began that unfortunate connection with Spain which brought such misery to the Low Countries. Charles, who not only ruled the Netherlands and Austria, but was elected Emperor and King of Spain, governed his provinces of the Low Countries with despotic sway. At one time the Ghenters incurred his wrath by rising against the payment of a war tax and even carrying on secret negotiations with Francis I, Charles’s great rival. Francis basely betrayed them to Charles, who took possession of the city with a large army. Their leaders were beheaded, many citizens were exiled, and the guild chiefs and members of the council were brought before the Emperor with halters about their necks and forced to sue for pardon. Henceforth no magistrate of Ghent was allowed to appear in public without wearing the halter. This sign of submission became the badge of the town, but in later years it was made of silk and worn as a decoration. The city lost its privileges and its great bell, Roland. At this time, too, the enormous citadel, called the Spaniards’ Castle, was erected at Ghent by Charles’s orders. The garrison of this stronghold was often, during the Spanish occupation of the country, of service in suppressing insurrections in Flanders.

The Low Countries had never been more prosperous than at the accession of Philip II. With the vast increase in commerce had come great wealth and unexampled luxury. Antwerp, which held the place formerly belonging to Bruges, was the richest city in Northern Europe. It was said as much business was done on the exchange of Antwerp in one month as on that of Venice in two years. Under the Burgundians music, architecture, painting, lace-making and tapestry were all brought to great perfection, and the University of Louvain was founded. One important advance in government under Charles V must be noted. A code of laws was formed from the customs that had grown up under the charters of the towns and the proclamations of the rulers.

Philip II, who had been brought up in Spain, was a narrow-minded despot and bigoted Catholic, entirely without natural ties binding him to the Low Countries. He resided in the Netherlands only four years, at the end of that time making Margaret of Parma, his half-sister, resident governant. The Ancienne Cour in Brussels was the seat of her Court. Philip, resenting the independence of the Belgians and determined to reduce them to abject submission, cunningly contrived a scheme of government for the provinces during his absence which left the balance of power in the hands of courtiers devoted to his service. The convocation of the States-General was forbidden, and a violent persecution of heretics was commenced. An element of terror was added to the situation by the Spanish garrisons, who ravaged the coast provinces to obtain plunder in lieu of their long delayed pay.

In order to safeguard the rights of the people and make peace between them and the King, a confederation was formed of the most powerful nobles, led by the three greatest leaders in the Low Countries, William the Silent, Prince of Orange, and Counts Egmont and Hoorn. The confederates entered Brussels, where de Brederode, one of their leaders, gave a great banquet in their honour, at which three hundred guests were present. After long carousing, some one told how her advisers had handed Margaret their petition with the remark, “You have nothing to fear from such a band of beggars (tas de Gueux).” As the leaders were then trying to decide upon a name for their confederacy, they at once adopted that of Gueux, and the toast, “Long Live the Gueux,” was drunk with riotous hilarity. Henceforth those who upheld the rights of the people and resisted the Inquisition were known as Gueux.

Madame Vandervelde made a telling use of this rallying cry in one of her appeals in this country for the Belgian refugees. “Again,” she said, “the Belgian people are beggars, but they are glorious beggars!”

This was the beginning of the forty years’ struggle for freedom that ended in the division of the United Netherlands. Philip, bent upon subjugating the people, replaced the Regent, Margaret of Parma, by the infamous Duke of Alva. Backed by an army of Spanish veterans, the new governor levied ruinous taxes, laid waste cities and provinces, and carried out all the horrors of the Inquisition. Counts Egmont and Hoorn were beheaded in front of the Maison du Roi in the Grande Place of Brussels, and other leaders met the same fate. It was Alva’s own boast that during his rule in the Netherlands he sent eighteen thousand people to death by execution.

Such barbarities as those committed at the capture of Haarlem roused the people to desperation. The siege of this place lasted for seven months, and when it was taken by the Spaniards the Governor and the other magistrates were beheaded, and twelve hundred of the garrison were either slaughtered or drowned in the lake. Before Alva’s rule was ended, the northern provinces, chiefly Protestant, had rebelled against the Spanish crown. When no other resource remained, the intrepid burghers cut the dikes, as they have done in Belgium today, and so forced the enemy to retire.

Philip at last recalled the sanguinary Duke, and commissioned Requesens to complete his task. But the conciliatory measures of the new governor came too late, and the war went on.

After the death of Requesens and before the arrival of his successor, Don John of Austria, the mutinous Spanish troops seized the citadels of Ghent, Antwerp, and Maestricht, and gave the towns over to pillage and destruction. In November, 1576, they were joined by other mutineers from Alost, and for three days the “Spanish Fury” raged in Antwerp. Even in the Low Countries such carnage and vandalism had never been known. When it ended the city was in ruins, and seven thousand of its citizens had been slain.

A few days later, the delegates from the different provinces, assembled at Ghent, under the leadership of Orange, issued the famous declaration known as “The Pacification of Ghent.” This document proclaimed universal amnesty, the union of the provinces to expel all foreigners, the suspension of the edicts against heresy, liberty of worship, and the annulment of all confiscations and judgments of the ten years of warfare. The people seemed now to have taken a great stride toward freedom.

The death of Don John in the following year gave the command of the Spanish forces to Alexander Farnese, Prince of Parma, one of the greatest generals of the age.

The Walloons having practically gone over to the side of Spain, on account of their devotion to the Catholic religion, William of Orange saw that it was only the northern provinces upon which he could really depend, and formed the “Union of Utrecht.” By this act the states now constituting the kingdom of Holland were bound together as a united and independent whole, each state to enjoy complete freedom of worship. They were soon joined by the towns of Antwerp, Ypres, Ghent and Bruges.

After William the Silent was assassinated, in July, 1584, at the instigation of Philip, the United Provinces, though bereft of their leader, still held out against the power of Spain, but the cities that at first cast in their lot with them, were one by one reduced by siege, the last to surrender being Antwerp. In all the conquered territory the Protestant religion was absolutely proscribed, more than half the population went into voluntary exile in England and Holland rather than renounce their faith, and the country was left desolate.

A Belgian writer has described the condition of the land thus: “In vain might vestiges of the ancient prosperity of Belgium be sought. The Belgian ports were blockaded by the cruisers of Holland and Zealand. Persecution and exile had emptied the workshops. England gathered in the industry of our ruined cities. Amsterdam, Rotterdam and Middelburg inherited the commerce of Antwerp and Bruges.” At the end of Spanish rule in Belgium, it is said that, “with a foreign garrison established on its soil, and the principal part of the revenue assigned for its maintenance, there would have been nothing surprising had the Belgian race finally disappeared from the roll of nations.”

At last Philip gave the command in the Low Countries to the Archduke Albert, son of Emperor Maximilian II, who was to marry the Infanta Isabella, and reign jointly with her over Burgundy and the Netherlands. Under their rule the country, from this time called Belgium, began to recover from the long wars. The sovereigns ruled with wise protection of commerce and manufactures, and strove to build up the country. They were patrons of art, and by their influence Rubens was induced to make his home in Flanders.

Until the peace of Utrecht, in 1713, Spain continued to hold Belgium, on whose devoted soil many a battle was fought. Sometimes Dutch and Spaniards were the combatants, again Belgians fought off the French. Through the whole second half of the seventeenth century Belgium was the battlefield on which Europe strove against the ambition of Louis XIV, and again it was laid waste.

In the course of these wars the French, in 1695, bombarded Brussels with red-hot bullets. Sixteen churches and four thousand houses were burnt down, and the buildings on the Grande Place suffered greatly.

Once more Belgium changed hands, and this time it passed under the sway of Austria. Prince Eugene, the great soldier, was made Governor-General of the Austrian Netherlands, but was too busy with his campaigns to reside in the country. His deputy was an able man, under whom business conditions improved and commerce increased, but he ruled with the iron hand of an Alva. The citizens of Brussels demanded of him the Joyous Entry, and when he refused to observe the charter, riots broke out in Brussels, which were put down and punished with all the rigours of Spanish rule.

Under the Archduchess Marie Elizabeth, the Emperor’s sister, who was Regent in Belgium for fifteen years, the commerce of the country increased to such an extent that the jealousy of England and Holland was aroused.

The death of the Emperor was followed by the war of the Austrian Succession, in which Belgium was again invaded and overrun by France, and one city after another was taken by the victorious Marshal Saxe. This great general was the next governor, and he proceeded to levy upon the people of Brussels the most extortionate taxes. The treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle soon put an end to his rule, however, and restored Belgium to Austria.

It is a relief to read in the pages of European history that for the next thirty-six years Belgium was peaceful and prosperous under another Austrian ruler, Prince Charles of Lorraine. He was devoted to the interests of the country, and became so popular that the twenty-fifth anniversary of his government was celebrated by a succession of brilliant fÊtes in the different provinces.

The death of Prince Charles was almost immediately followed by that of Maria Theresa and the accession of Joseph II to her throne. Full of the new ideas in regard to human rights with which the eighteenth century was seething, and truly desirous of improving the condition of his subjects, he set to work to reform ecclesiastical conditions not only, but also the whole system of civil and judicial administration. Conscious of the highest aims, Joseph stubbornly persevered in his efforts at reform, with the result that his reign was marked by increasing strife in Belgium, culminating in a revolution. In 1790 the rebels severed their connection with Austria and formed a confederacy called the United Belgian States.

After a short and troubled existence of eleven months, the new republic was invaded by an Austrian army, and submitted to Joseph’s successor, Leopold II, who agreed to restore the ancient forms of government. But in 1749 the French Revolutionists, having declared war against Austria, proceeded to invade Belgium. Though these new conquerors came in the name of liberty, they also brought devastation and tyranny in their wake. The French, however, held the country until 1814. Napoleon’s sway was despotic, but he carried out the reforms that Joseph II in vain tried to introduce, and made the organization of the government practically what it is today. Perfect freedom of worship was established, and the control of education was given to the State. Foreign commerce was destroyed, but great advances were made in agriculture and manufacture.

As we all know, Napoleon returned from his banishment to Elba in March, 1815, and the Congress of Vienna, upon receiving the astounding news, declared that “neither peace nor truce was possible” with “the common enemy to the peace of the world.” The death grapple of the campaign that he at once planned was to come upon Belgian soil.

“At half-past three on the morning of June 15, 1815, Napoleon’s outposts crossed the frontier. On the evening of the 15th, Wellington attended the famous ball in Brussels, the best remembered social function, perhaps, in history, at the Duchess of Richmond’s house.” This house has been pulled down, but the guides still point out the spot. While the dancing was going on, despatches were brought to the Duke, and he asked to see the map. On looking at it he exclaimed, “Napoleon has humbugged me. He has gained twenty-four hours’ march on me. I must fight him here.“ He put his nail on the map. The scratch that was left was ”the first scar of Waterloo.”

“Amongst the dead on the field at Quatre Bras, were officers who still wore the pumps and silk stockings of the ball room.”

Ligny and Quatre Bras were fought on the 16th, and Wellington’s masterly retreat to Waterloo occupied the following day. Then came that memorable June 18th, the story of which thrills us even today. French daring was matched with British tenacity. Wellington was perfect master of the situation, and—he knew BlÜcher would come. But Napoleon had lost his grip. This was a day of hard fighting and terrible losses.

“A little after seven o’clock Napoleon prepared to fling his last card on the iron table of the battlefield; he would send forward his bearskins, the Old Guard, the final bid for victory.” This, too, was in vain. “The Guard gives way,” was the cry that rose everywhere. The first column was retreating on La Belle Alliance, the second was being driven across the road to Brussels. From the woods near Hougomont, down the slopes below La Haye Sainte, the French fled in wild confusion. “At the same moment Napoleon saw his whole line of battle fall to pieces.”

“Napoleon in his flight crossed the battlefield of Quatre Bras. It was still strewn with the unburied slain, nearly four thousand corpses stripped quite naked by plunderers; and with what feelings Napoleon in the darkness of the night rode through those acres of the slain may be guessed. He drew rein for a moment in that field of the dead, and one who stood near him records how ’his face was pale as wax and the tears ran down his cheeks’—and thus across the useless battlefields of that terrible campaign Napoleon fled on his way to Paris—and beyond it to St. Helena.”[2]