Messire de Mortenay, the French governor of the city and commander of the garrison, more merciful than the Flemish tax-gatherer, when he perceived the extremity to which the people were reduced, would gladly have diminished the burdens which pressed so heavily upon them; and with this view sent an account of the alarming and distressing state of things to his superior, De Chatillon, then at Courtrai, requesting his authority for the abolition of the obnoxious tax. Van Gistel, however, well aware that his countrymen cried shame upon him as an apostate, and, like every apostate, hating those whom he had betrayed, seized the opportunity to urge De Chatillon to increased severity. He painted the rebellious spirit of the men of Bruges in the blackest colors, and called loudly for chastisement on their headstrong obstinacy; representing that their alleged inability to procure employment was a mere pretense, and that they wilfully abstained from work in order that they might have a plausible pretext for refusing payment of the tax.
De Chatillon's wrath at this intelligence exceeded all bounds. Everything he had done for carrying out the king's commands seemed to have been without result; the Flemish people were unsubdued, and to all appearance still indomitable. In all the towns of Flanders tumults were every day occurring; everywhere hatred of the French name began to display itself more publicly; and not at Bruges only, but in other places, the servants of King Philip frequently fell victims to the popular fury, either in open fray or by secret assassination. There, too, were the ruined towers of Male, the fire still smoldering among its walls, and its stones still reeking with the Frenchmen's blood.
The fountain-head of this stream of disaffection was evidently Bruges; there it was that the spirit of revolt had first displayed itself, and thence it had spread over the whole land of Flanders. Breydel and Deconinck were the two heads of the dragon which thus obstinately refused to crouch under the sceptre of King Philip. All this considered, De Chatillon resolved on a vigorous demonstration, which should stifle, once for all, the liberties of Flanders in the blood of the refractory. Drawing together in all haste seventeen hundred men-at-arms out of Hainault, Picardy, and French Flanders, he joined to them a large body of infantry; and thus, in complete battle array, marched upon Bruges. Fully determined to take summary vengeance on the patriots, he carried with him several large casks, containing the ropes with which he designed to hang Deconinck, Breydel, and such as supported them, from the windows of their own houses. His expedition, meanwhile, was kept a profound secret from all in the city, with the sole exception of the governor, as a precaution against any defensive measures which the Clawards might adopt.
It was on the 13th of May, 1302, at nine o'clock in the morning, that the French force entered the city, with the governor-general at their head. Stern and threatening was the aspect of De Chatillon, as he rode along the streets, while the hearts of the citizens were oppressed with painful anxiety, foreseeing, as they could not but do, a part at least of the fate which was awaiting them. The Clawards might easily be recognized by their troubled countenances and downcast bearing; still they did not apprehend much beyond a rigorous enforcement of the capitation-tax, and a general increase of severity.
The Lilyards had joined the garrison, and together with the latter stood drawn up under arms upon the Friday's market-place. To them the governor-general's arrival was a matter of rejoicing, for from him they looked to obtain retaliation for the contempt and abhorrence with which they were regarded by the Clawards; and as he approached, loud and repeated cries of "France! France! long live King Philip and our noble governor!" resounded from their ranks.
Attracted by curiosity, the people had flocked together from every quarter of the city, and now occupied in crowds the whole neighborhood of the market-place. Every countenance bore an expression of the deepest fear and anxiety; mothers pressed their children closer to their breasts, and from many an eye trickled the unconscious tear. But while all were terrified at the vengeance which seemed ready to descend upon their heads, not a single voice of greeting was raised for France or her representative. Powerless, indeed, they were for the present; but hatred against their oppressors burned fiercely in their hearts, and ever and anon flashed out in threatening glances from their eyes: they thought of Breydel and Deconinck, and of a day of bloody retribution.
While the population were thus looking on in moody silence, De Chatillon had drawn up his forces in the market-place in such wise that either side of it was lined with men-at-arms, while one end was entirely occupied by a strong body of infantry—the troops thus forming three sides of a square, of which the fourth remained open; an arrangement which allowed the citizens a full view of all that was passing in the centre. He then despatched, as quietly as possible, a strong body of men to each of the city gates, with instructions to seize, secure, and defend them.
The governor-general, accompanied by some of his principal officers, now advanced into the centre of the square. Here the chancellor Peter Flotte, the governor of the city De Mortenay, and John van Gistel the Lilyard entered with him into what seemed an animated discussion upon some subject of pressing importance; at least if one might have judged from the passionate gesticulations of the speakers. Although they were careful not to raise their voices so as to be heard by the citizens, their words were nevertheless occasionally audible to the French officers; and more than one brave knight cast looks of compassion upon the anxious people, and of contempt upon the traitor Van Gistel, as he thus addressed the governorgeneral:
"Believe me, Messire, I know the
