A curious document has been discovered among the archives of Lille, which furnishes us with a striking picture of the sort of life led by George Ghiselin II. and his brother seigneurs. It will be found in the Appendix, under the head of Pardon of Daniel de Croix. From this interesting record it appears that on a certain day in the summer of 1519, George Halluin, Seigneur of Comines, had a meeting in the broad meadows beneath the castle, for the knightly sport of hawking. Thither came George Ghiselin, the father of the Ambassador, from his château at Bousbecque, bringing with him the Seigneur of Wambrechies, Daniel de Croix, a relative of his wife’s, and thither rode other gentlemen of the country, Jacques de le Sauch and the Seigneur of Croiselle; while Comines was represented by its bailiff, Jehan Homme, and several other townsmen who had fought against the French under the banner of the Halluins.
The noble seigneurs and the worthy clothiers passed a merry day with hawk and hound; they had their sport in the field, and they feasted in the castle. Their host was one whom they all respected, a gallant knight, a safe adviser, a prince of scholars, one who could hold his own in the field or in the council-chamber, and yet preferred his library at Comines, and a chat with Erasmus, to the honours of a Court and the condescensions of an Emperor.
Between eight and nine in the evening, the festivities drew to a close. George Halluin and the Seigneur of Croiselle, according to the official account, retired to bed. It is pardonable to imagine that the former may have sought his library, to add another note to his Virgil, to have a chat about Latin grammars with Jean Despauteres, or to indite a letter to Erasmus in the most faultless of Latin.
Meanwhile, George Ghiselin, in company with Jehan Homme, bailiff of Comines, Jacques de le Sauch, and Daniel de Croix, strolled towards the market-place of the town. It happened to be a fête-day, so there was a general holiday and merry-making. To this fête had come a minstrel named Chariot Desrumaulx. Perhaps he may have helped to entertain the gentlemen at the castle, at any rate he attached himself to the party of seigneurs as they went towards the market-place. Possibly in Provence he would have been allowed to associate with men of rank, but the Flemish seigneurs evidently thought that the man was taking a liberty. On the road one of them suggested that they should adjourn to the inn of Master Francis Barbier, on the Place de Comines, and there prolong their festivities. The proposal met with general approval. Daniel de Croix and Jacques de le Sauch went on in front, while the Seigneur of Bousbecque and the bailiff followed at some little distance. When the two gentlemen first mentioned came to the inn, Charlot Desrumaulx insisted on entering with them. De Croix, who still had his hawk upon his wrist,[50] remonstrated with him, and told him in plain terms that he was too drunk and quarrelsome for them to wish for his company. The minstrel persisted in entering, whereupon de Croix took him by the collar, and, with the assistance of de le Sauch, expelled him from the house. Desrumaulx grew violent, and attempted to draw his sword, but his hand was stopped by de le Sauch before he could disengage his weapon. At this moment up came Jehan Homme, bailiff of Comines, and George Ghiselin. The former immediately executed his office by arresting Desrumaulx, and was on the point of consigning him to the gaol, when the bystanders good-naturedly interfered. They made what excuses they could for the man; ‘he was drunk and saucy now, but if he were allowed to sleep it off, he would come to his senses in the morning.’ Desrumaulx promised to go to bed quietly, and on this understanding he was released. On regaining his liberty, however, instead of going off to his lodgings, he stationed himself at the entrance to the Place, laid down his violin, took off his coat, and in loud insulting language challenged the best of the seigneurs to single combat. Young Daniel de Croix, no doubt with good reason, considered the challenge as specially addressed to himself. According to his ideas, his reputation as a gentleman and a soldier was at stake; if he permitted a base-born minstrel publicly to insult him, he could never hold up his head again among his comrades at arms. Assuming, probably, that with his superior skill he would have no difficulty in disarming his tipsy antagonist, he threw his hawk to his man-servant, and sallied out into the market-place. Desrumaulx, on seeing him, repeated his insults, and drawing his sword advanced to meet him. Hereon de Croix, unsheathing his rapier, exchanged some passes with the minstrel; the latter’s skill proved greater than the young Seigneur had anticipated, and he succeeded in hitting his antagonist’s shoulder. De Croix, smarting under the blow, made a lunge at the minstrel, and ran him through the body; his rapier entered a little below the right breast, inflicting a wound that was almost immediately fatal. De Croix was now in a very serious position, for not only was the man dead, but he had died before he could be confessed and shriven, consequently the young Seigneur had to answer for the perdition[51] of his soul, as well as the destruction of his body! We are left to imagine the hurried council held in the market-place by the seigneurs; how the swiftest horse was saddled, and de Croix rode forth into the night to escape for his life. The French frontier was not far distant, and there probably he took refuge. When the time came for trial at Lille, de Croix did not appear, being afraid that the justice of the court would not be tempered with mercy. Application was made to Charles V. for a pardon; the petition was no doubt backed up by the influence of the Halluins, Ghiselins, and other noble houses connected with the family of de Croix. At any rate it was successful; and de Croix received a free pardon, on condition of his paying all legal expenses, and compensating the family of the man he had killed.
The scene preserved in this curious document furnishes a picture of a seigneur’s life in the country, and conveys some idea of the tone of the society from which Busbecq went forth to sketch the manners and customs of the East.
George Ghiselin II. died in 1561, leaving three legitimate children, (1) Jean Ghiselin, Seigneur of Bousbecque, whose name[52] is found amongst the signatures appended to a remonstrance addressed by the Estates of Lille to Margaret of Parma, against the decrees she had issued for enforcing the edicts of Charles V. for the suppression of heresy. He died childless, November 1578; (2), Marguerite Jacqueline Ghiselin, married November 28, 1565, to Jean Baptiste de Thiennes, Seigneur of Willersies; she died March 27, 1611. (3), Agnes Ghiselin, who succeeded her brother Jean in the seigneury of Bousbecque. She married Jacques Yedeghem, Seigneur of Wieze, captain, governor, and high bailiff of Termonde (Dendermonde).
These last had a son, Charles de Yedeghem, who became Seigneur of Bousbecque; from him, his uncle, the Ambassador, on December 18, 1587, bought a life-interest in the seigneury.[53]
Ogier Ghiselin de Busbecq.
Besides the children born in lawful wedlock, George Ghiselin II. had, by Catherine Hespiel,[54] an illegitimate son, who is the subject of this memoir, Ogier Ghiselin de Busbecq. The mother was an unmarried woman, in a humble position of life, and is supposed to have been a servant at the Bousbecque château. If this was the case, there is nothing surprising in the fact that she was at Comines when her son was born, in 1522; for it is hardly likely that her mistress would allow her to remain an inmate of the Seigneur’s house. In justice to George Ghiselin himself, it must be remembered that the standard of morality in Flanders, with regard to such connections, was not high, as is shown by Motley’s[55] description of a seigneur’s privileges in old times; and also by the fact that up to a late date they retained the right of legitimating their bastard children. At any rate, his conduct as a father was unimpeachable; he received the little fellow into his château, and gave him an excellent education.
From considerations already stated, it is impossible to doubt that Busbecq came under the influence of George Halluin. He must often have been found in the famous library[56] of the Seigneur of Comines, with his head buried in some weighty folio; thither, no doubt, he brought the botanical specimens he had discovered in the woods and fields of Bousbecque, and the Roman coins he had unearthed at Wervicq. From his kind patron he must have heard of the great Erasmus, of Melancthon, Thomas More, and other leaders of that age. One can picture to oneself how Ogier may have questioned him as to Luther, and asked how it was that he and Erasmus were so far apart, when they agreed so heartily in detesting the greed and superstition of the monks. ‘My boy,’[57] one can imagine George Halluin saying, ‘when your grandsire, Gilles Ghiselin, was about to restore the Bousbecque château, he took me to see the old place. The great hall was well-nigh perfect, and all the windows had been closed with boards. On entering, we found it had been made a home for the owl and the bat; the creatures flew up against me; and as I tried to escape, I stumbled over the rubbish, and fell on the floor, which was covered with filth. I was so disgusted that I would fain have persuaded your grandfather to leave the old place to its present occupants, and build a fair castle at some little distance; but he laughed at my boyish fancy, saying it were foul scorn that he should be ousted from the roof of his ancestors by a set of night-birds. He called in his men, the windows were unbarred, and broad streams of light poured into the hall. Then might you have seen owl and bat shrinking from the bright sunbeams; thenceforth the Bousbecque hall was no resting-place for them, for they love not to roost save where there is perpetual darkness and night.[58] Here is my parable, Ogier; Luther would quit our Church because of the many corruptions and abuses that have crept in; he would leave the monks to their darkness, and build himself a brand-new chapel after his own design. Erasmus would count it shame to allow such night-birds to deprive him of his inheritance in the Church. He would do what your grandsire did, open the windows and pour in the light; that is a power against which neither monks nor bats can stand.’ ‘But where is the light,’ says Ogier, ‘and where are the windows?’ ‘There,’ replies the Seigneur, pointing to his well-stored shelves, ‘there is the light of antiquity, which will chase the night-birds from our Church. Never think, Ogier, that the Bible is the only revelation of God; all knowledge comes from him. Seneca, who never read a word of the Bible, can help us to the truth; and if it be the truth, it is God’s truth, as much as if it had been uttered by inspired lips. I will tell you a secret, boy; you remember the old line, “Fas est et ab hoste doceri.” The drones in the monasteries have, like other animals, that intuitive knowledge which tells them what is fatal to their existence; so we may learn from them their vulnerable part. Erasmus has said many hard things of them, but that is not the chief reason of their hate. What is it then? It is because he has sent the world to school with Greece and Rome for its masters.[59] Just as the owls and bats in your grandsire’s hall might have held their own had we attacked them with sticks and stones, but shrank discomfited before the light of day, so the monks might battle against downright attacks, but they know that the light of antiquity must drive them from their roosts. My ancestors have left their mark on the history of Flanders; but I doubt whether they ever discharged a more glorious office than that which fell to me when I undertook the translation of the great satire which Erasmus[60] dedicated to Sir Thomas More. I once spoke of it to my friend. He shook his head. “You have brought me, my dearest George, into some trouble with your translation; it is too good; it seems incredible, but the lazy crew positively understand it. No, no, stick to your Virgil; they cannot attack me about it; and, between ourselves, you will frighten them much more.” As he said to me, so I say to you, my dear young friend, leave religious questions alone; they will right themselves, if we only let in the light.