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Updated: May 7, 2025
What fierce broils and bloody fights did these streets witness centuries ago! There in the Marche au Vendredi, a large square of old-fashioned houses, with a statue of Jacques van Artevelde, fifteen hundred corpses were strewn in a quarrel between the hostile guilds of fullers and brewers; and here, later, Alva set blazing the fires of the Inquisition.
"It all depends whether our means of escape are suspected," Walter replied, "I should scarce think that they would be. The attention of our pursuers was wholly taken up by Van Artevelde, and some minutes must have passed before they followed us. No doubt they will search every place in the house, and all within it will by this time have been slaughtered.
At Chicago I read again Philip Van Artevelde, and certain passages in it will always be in my mind associated with the deep sound of the lake, as heard in the night. I used to read a short time at night, and then open the blind to look out. The moon would be full upon the lake, and the calm breath, pure light, and the deep voice harmonized well with the thought of the Flemish hero.
More than twenty thousand of the citizens fell in the battle, and were left, by the King's order, unburied on the field. The corpse of Artevelde, who had been suffocated in the press, was hanged on a gibbet for a warning to all demagogues. With him died the day-dream of an independent Flanders.
Artevelde, a beer brewster of Ghent, intrigues with Edward to transfer the coronet of Flanders from Count Lewis to the young Prince of Wales. The scheme fails, and Artevelde perishes in an affray with the citizens In his negotiations he had employed his daughter, and dispatched her on one occasion, in a private yacht, to the Thames, to confer with the King.
The battle of Roosebeke, where the second Artevelde and his companions succumbed to superior numbers, was the last great enterprise of the Flemings against the French. Half a century earlier, a strong league had been formed against these powerful neighbors. In the interior, the country was divided into factions, the partisans and enemies of France.
Artevelde, with the consuls of Bruges and Ypres, was awaiting him there.
It was Italy on the southern side of the Alps, as "Philip van Artevelde" best describes it: Sublime, but neither bleak nor bare Nor misty, are the mountains there; Softly sublime, profusely fair; Up to their summits clothed in green, And fruitful as the vales between, They lightly rise And scale the skies, And groves and gardens still abound, For where no shoot Can else take root, The peaks are shelved and terraced round.
The Flemings like to be treated so; with them you must make no more account of the life of men than you do of larks when the season for eating them comes." "I will do what shall be necessary," said Van Artevelde. The struggle grew violent between the count and the communes of Flanders with Ghent at their head.
What fierce broils and bloody fights did these streets witness centuries ago! There in the Marche au Vendredi, a large square of old-fashioned houses, with a statue of Jacques van Artevelde, fifteen hundred corpses were strewn in a quarrel between the hostile guilds of fullers and brewers; and here, later, Alva set blazing the fires of the Inquisition.
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