Warfare in Flanders, according to Galbert of Bruges' The Murder of Charles the Good
Part 1: March 9th - 19th
Galbert of Bruges was a cleric who worked principally in
the fiscal administration of the castellany of Bruges. He was thus a marginal member of the count’s curia, at least when the count was in Bruges, and it is reasonable
to suppose that he was occasionally called on for various other, more punctual
tasks like taking notes at juridical acts which served as the basis for the
subsequent composition of charters, or helping the count with his
correspondence. It is possible that
he was also a marginal member of the conventus
of Saint Donatian, perhaps principally for the sake of compensation.
Galbert composed his chronicle of the events surrounding Charles
assassination and the ensuing civil war, the De
multro, traditione, et occisione gloriosi Karoli comitis Flandriarum, in the
form of a journal during 1127-28. His
work is not addressed to any patron and Galbert makes no clear statement about
his intended audience. It seems
that the burghers of Bruges figured most prominently in Galbert’s mind while
he was composing the first part of his work (devoted to the events of spring
1127), but that his intended audience included all the inhabitants of Bruges,
clergy and aristocrats as well, and even, albeit more vaguely, all the
inhabitants of Flanders and any other of the faithful who might be interested in
an account of Charles’s death and the punishment of his murderers.
The fact that Galbert wrote a long text in Latin shows that he had been
decently educated, but there is no reason to suppose that his studies extended
beyond the trivium. He may have
been educated at Saint Donatian itself or at a nearby center like Tournai,
Arras, or Laon. By the time he
wrote his chronicle, however, most of his recent education had probably come
from his practical experience in the count’s administration, conversation, and
attendance at religious offices. For
more on Galbert, see J. Rider, God’s
Scribe: The Historiographical Art of Galbert of Bruges (Washington, DC: The
Catholic University of America Press, 2001), 16-28.
[Chapter 28] Gervaise and the citizens begin the siege of the castle,
March 9, 1127
On March 9, Wednesday, when the octave had dawned of that blessed count
(who had passed from earth to the true octave), Gervaise, according to the
agreement with the citizens, was admitted within the town at the Sands, west of
the castle, and this was to prove the greatest misfortune for the traitors.
But before this, on the same day, by setting some houses on fire he had
alarmed Borsiard and Robert the Young and their accomplices who, on seeing the
conflagration of the houses, had come out of the castle on all sides to keep an
eye on the incendiaries, in case they should attack. Now to the east of the
castle three tall houses, set on fire, were burning, the flames fanned by the
winds; on seeing this the citizens, at the same time as Borsiard and his
knights, and not knowing about the pact which had been formed between the
burghers and Gervaise, came rushing forth, most of them in an armed band with
those evil men. And Isaac, who during the lifetime of the pious count Charles
had, as chamberlain, shared his counsels and been on familiar terms with him,
and who was the head of the treachery, made a sortie on horseback with his
knights. When the knights on both sides approached each other, the traitors saw
they could not stand up against such a great army because they were so few in
numbers and turned in flight; their pursuers, following them in hot haste,
chased them back into the castle. When they had finally come into the town,
Borsiard and his men paused for a few minutes in front of the house of Didier,
Isaac's brother, trying to decide what they should do now. Meanwhile Gervaise,
violently pursuing them, went toward the west to the gate of the town, and
there, after exchanging pledges of fidelity with the citizens, rushed in with a
very strong band.
Up to this point the citizens had remained
quietly at home according to their custom, for it was about evening and most of
the citizens had sat down to eat, not knowing about this event. Then
while the traitors were standing there, disturbed about their flight and trying
to decide what to do, they saw their pursuers at a distance rushing through the
streets, coming after them with spears and lances, arrows and all kinds of arms.
Now a great tumult and clash of arms and thunder of shouts disturbed all the
citizens who ran to arms and got ready; some who knew absolutely nothing about
the pact prepared to defend the place and the town against Gervaise, while
others, who did know about it, rushed to Gervaise with all their forces and
chased the fleeing traitors back into the castle. When the citizens learned
about the pact with Gervaise, sealed by his faith and oath, then for the first
time they acted in unison, rushing over the castle-bridge against those who, on
behalf of the traitors, were continuing to resist from the castle. At another
bridge, which led toward the house of the provost, a great conflict took place
in which they fought at close range with lances and swords. On a third bridge,
which lay on the eastern side of the castle and led up to the very gates of the
castle, such a fierce combat was going on that those who were inside, not able
to bear the violence of the attack, broke the bridge and closed the gates on
themselves. And wherever the citizens had access to the men in the castle, the
fight went on very fiercely until the latter could not keep it up because they
were intercepted and taken captive by the citizens. Whether they liked it or not
the wretches inside the castle were full of anxiety; a great part of them were
wounded and at the same time dispirited by fear and sorrow, and faint from the
weariness of fighting.
[Chapter 29] The siege of the castle begins, March 9, 1127
Meanwhile, at the moment when Gervaise entered the town, Isaac fled from
the place where they had been talking things over and took refuge in his house,
which was fairly strong. And when he had crossed the bridge which led from the
town to his house he tore it down and broke it into pieces so that no one could
pursue him as he fled. At this time George, the most powerful knight among the
traitors, was intercepted; it was he who with Borsiard had killed the count. The
knight Didier, brother of Isaac the traitor, hurled him from his horse and cut
off both his hands. (This Didier, although he was the brother of the traitor,
was not, however, an accessory to the plot.) That most wretched George, his
hands cut off, fled to a place where he. hoped to hide but he was immediately
denounced to a certain Walter, a knight of Gervaise, and dragged out. The
knight, sitting on his horse, ordered a fierce young swordsman to kill him. The
latter rushed at George, struck him with his sword and knocked him to the
ground; then, dragging him by his feet into the sewer, he saw to it that he
drowned for his evil deserts. Robert, a messenger and servant of the castellan,
Hacket, who came from his manor, was also intercepted; after being slain in the
middle of the market, he was dragged off to the swamps. Another one taken was
the most evil of Borsiard's serfs, Fromold by name, who in his flight had hidden
between two mattresses, dressed in a woman's cloak as disguise. Pulled out, he
was taken to the middle of the market and, in the sight of all, hanged with a
stick thrust through his shanks and shins, and his head bent down so that his
shameful parts, his behind and buttocks, were turned toward the castle to the
disgrace and ignominy of the traitors who were standing attentively on the
balcony of the count's house and on the towers watching this done to dishonor
them. Meanwhile both sides kept on shooting arrows at each other, and throwing
stones and hurling spears from the walls. Finally day closed and by night alarms
and vigils prevailed on both sides; and they lay in wait for each other so that
no one could steal out to escape from the besieged nor could anyone secretly
slip over the walls to aid the besieged.
In the same way, throughout the whole course
of the siege, both sides stationed watches and laid ambushes. In general, the
besieged made an attack on the besiegers every night with the strongest possible
forces; and they fought more bitterly at night than by day because the besieged
did not dare to show themselves by day, in view of the shamefulness of the
crime, but hoped somehow to conceal themselves and escape, if possible, so that
if by chance they did get away, no one would suspect them of the crime of
treachery. And they fought so much the more fiercely by night, because they had
believed they could perhaps come out later and easily be purged of the crime
through the influence of the barons of the siege who had looked with favor on
their undertaking. But the barons did not care what they promised to the
besieged or how many oaths they swore but were concerned only with extorting
from them the money and treasure of the good count. And they acted rightly in
accepting from the besieged the treasure of the count and also many gifts, since
they were under no obligation to keep faith or to honor their oaths toward those
serfs who had betrayed their lawful and natural lord. And yet those who had
slain their lord, the father of the whole county, tried to get their enemies to
respect to their advantage the faith and oaths which they in no way deserved!
Certainly it was more just for those who loved the count even in death, and who
came to avenge him and there endured alarms and vigils, wounds, attacks, and all
the hardships that must be suffered in a siege - more just for them, I say - to
have obtained the castle and treasure and rights of the count after the death of
their lord than those wretched traitors who destroyed both the place and its
riches. In this vein the besiegers and the besieged often talked back and forth
to each other, but the besieged only made excuses for their treachery.
[Chapter 30] The first barons arrive; the flight of Isaac, March 10,
1127
On March 10, Thursday, the castellan of Ghent with his following
hastened to the siege of the betrayers of Charles, and also Ivan, brother of
Baldwin of Aalst. On the night before
that Thursday, Isaac, because he knew that he was accessory to the crime and
damned himself for it, and was driven by fear of death, took to flight with only
his squire, and so did his wife and serfs, men and women, and all his household;
and wherever they happened to find themselves in that difficult flight by night,
there they hid. The house and manor and more valuable equipment, and other
things they had once held in freedom and power, they now abandoned heedlessly
and left as plunder for the enemy. On
hearing this, at early dawn, the castellan of Ghent and Ivan rushed out from the
siege with a crowd, seizing everything useful they found that could be carried
off. Finally, by placing burning
torches under the roofs they set fire to the house and farm buildings, and
whatever they found there that could be destroyed by fire. Everyone who saw it
marveled at how exceedingly quickly everything was destroyed by the fanning and
fomenting of the winds and the mad fury of the fire, for such a big building and
such a large amount of wood had never before been so quickly consumed.
[Chapter 31] The barons form a sworn league, March 11, 1127
On March 11, Friday, Daniel, one of the peers of the realm; who before
the betrayal of the count had been allied in strong friendship with the provost
and his nephews, hastened to the siege together with Richard of Woumen, Thierry,
castellan of the fortress of Dixmude, and Walter, butler of the count. And so
each one of these barons had come with his whole following to avenge the death
of his count and lord. Now after
meeting
[Chapter 32] The first assault on the castle fails, March 12, 1127
On March 12, Saturday, the barons ordered all those who had settled down
for the siege to attack the castle at every point where they had access to it.
And so about noon the knights armed themselves together with the citizens and
they made the circuit, setting fire to the gates of the castle, in this
enterprise they burned a postern which stood near the house of the provost. But
when they were attacking the main gates of the castle, where they had piled up
dry hay and straw and summoned a knight to set fire to it, those who were
advancing were overwhelmed by stones, sticks, lances, and arrows from within the
castle. A great number were wounded by stones as large as millstones hurled from
the battlements, and their helmets and shields were crushed so that they could
scarcely flee in safety from the shelter of the gates under cover of which they
were setting the fires. Therefore when anyone was hit by a store hurled from
above, he suffered most grievous injury, regardless of his courage or strength,
so that he fell prostrate and broken, dying or dead. In this conflict one squire
outside expired, his heart pierced by an arrow. There was tumult and clamor on
both sides, and heavy fighting, and the clash and clank of arms reverberated in
the high vault of heaven. The fight was still going on at evening, and when
those outside had gained nothing but death and destruction, they drew back from
the walls and towers of the castle, and assembled part of their forces to take
thought for the perils of the night. The besieged were more and more encouraged
by this conflict because they had seen their attackers repelled from the walls,
undone by so many disasters and wounds.
[Chapter 33] The men of Ghent arrive, March 14-15, 1127
On March 13, the Lord's day was observed on both sides, under the guise
of peace.
On March 14 and 15, Monday and Tuesday, burghers from Ghent arrived to
take part in the siege, together with a greedy band of plunderers from the
villages round about. For their castellan had sent word to them to assemble
their communal forces and come, armed and girded for fighting, to make an attack
of their own on the castle, by themselves, inasmuch as they were men with a name
for conflict and battle who knew how to demolish defenses in sieges. And when
they heard that they could make their own attack in the siege, they assembled
all the bowmen and skilful makers of military equipment, and also bold
plunderers, murderers, thieves, and anyone ready to take advantage of the evils
of war, and they loaded thirty wagons with arms. They came in haste, on foot and
on horse, hoping to obtain a great deal of money if by chance the besieged
surrendered to them. There was certainly a strong and enormous army of them.
When they had reached the gates of the town, they dared to enter forcibly, but
all the men of the siege, who ran up from the inside, resisted them face to
face, and there would have been a general struggle if the wiser ones in both
ranks had not come to terms. For, after giving and receiving hands, the men of
Ghent pledged themselves by faith and swore an oath that they would join them in
the siege and share fully their efforts and arms and counsels, while respecting
the place and the property of our citizens, and that they would keep with them
only their own men and those who were expert in fighting, and send the others
away. Then the men of Ghent came in with a great crowd and filled up the area
around the castle. At that time Razo the butler returned from Saint Gilles and
came with his following, rightly mourning the death of his lord, the count.
[Chapter 35] Galbert identifies himself, March 17, 1127
…And it should be known that I, Galbert, a notary, though I had no
suitable place for writing, set down on tablets a summary of events; I did this
in the midst of such a great tumult and the burning of so many houses, set on
fire by lighted arrows shot onto the roofs of the town from within the castle
(and also by brigands from the outside in the hopes of looting) and in the midst
of so much danger by night and conflict by day.
I had to wait for moments of peace during the night or day to set in
order the present account of events as they happened, and in this way, though in
great straits, I transcribed for the faithful what you see and read.
I have not set down individual deeds because they were so numerous and so
intermingled but only noted carefully what was decreed and done by common action
throughout the siege, and the reasons for it; and this I have forced myself,
almost unwillingly, to commit to writing.
Now the ladders were made [by the besiegers] in this way: at first a
wider ladder with rungs was constructed according to the height of the castle
walls; to the left and right, green branches, woven tightly together, formed a
kind of 'wall,' and in front of the ladder a similar 'wall' was woven.
On this ladder another ladder, longer and narrower, and made in a similar
way, was superimposed, lying on its side, so that after the erection of the
bigger ladder, the smaller ladder could be slid over the wall of the castle and
the woven 'walls' to the right and left and in front would protect the climbers
on all sides.
[Chapter 36] Who the besieged were, and what some of them were doing
It should not be forgotten that there were many confined within the
castle who were not guilty of the death of the count in deed or in word but had
been intercepted with the guilty on the day when the latter had first been shut
up within the walls. There were also many who had gone in voluntarily with the
criminals and who, though they had not taken part in the deed and actual
slaying, were, nevertheless, in sympathy with the guilty. And there were many
others who on the first and subsequent days of the siege had gone in for the
sake of gain and money; among these was a fiery young fighter named Benkin,
expert and swift in shooting arrows. He kept going around the walls in the
fighting, running here and there, and though he was only one he seemed like more
because from inside the walls he inflicted so many wounds and never stopped. And
when he was aiming at the besiegers, his drawing on the bow was identified by
everyone because he would either cause grave injury to the unarmed or put to
flight those who were armed, whom his shots stupefied and stunned, even if they
did not wound. There was also present with the guilty a knight, Weriot, who from
the time of his youth had lived as a thief and brigand; he had caused great
slaughter among those Making the attack outside the
walls by rolling down and hurling stones which he could do using only his left
hand.
There was indeed an infinite number of the
guilty and their accomplices within the walls ready for these evil deeds, day
and night; they were engaged in vigils, fights, attacks, and also every kind of
exhausting labor, for they had blocked up the gates of the castle on the inside
from bottom to top with loads of dirt and stones and dung so that they could not
be reached from the outside even if by chance the gates should be destroyed by
fire and conflagration. And certainly on the eastern side where fires had been
set, the big gates had been almost completely burnt up so that an enormous
opening would have appeared if they had not blocked it up with a mound of stuff.
Finally, while on the inside they had blocked the exits of the gates with piles
of stones and earth, on the outside, at the two ends, both the besieged and
besiegers had destroyed the bridges which had formerly led to the castle so that
no means of getting in was left to the attackers and no way of getting out to
the besieged.
[Chapter 37] The besieged prepare for further assaults; many assert
their innocence and come out, March 17, 1127
When the besieged had made themselves secure at the exits they set about
blocking up the doors of the church on the south and the doors of the count's
house that opened out into the castle, and the doors that led into the castle
from the cloister, so that if by some misfortune they should lose the courtyard
of the count, they could retreat into the count's house and the provost's house,
and also into the refectory and cloister of the brothers as well as into the
church.
There stood the church of Saint Donatian,
built round and high, roofed over with earthenware material, its peak vaulted
with hollow jars and bricks, for the original roofing of the church had been
made of wood but when the structure of the bell-tower was erected, the basilica
itself had been covered with this man-made material…
[Chapter 40] The first assault with the ladders, March 18, 1127
On March 18, Friday, the ladders were brought out to the walls, and both
sides attacked with arrows and stones. Those
who brought out the ladders now advanced defended by shields and wearing coats
of mail. Many followed, to see how they could set the ladders up against the
walls, because they were very burdensome owing to the fact that the wood was
green and damp, and very heavy, being about sixty feet in height; the lower
ladder was twelve feet wide while the upper ladder was much narrower but a
little longer. And while the ladders were being dragged along, the cries and
shouts of the pullers aided their hands, and the noise resounded in the high
heavens.
The men of Ghent, in an armed band, were
protecting with their shields those who were dragging the ladders, for the
besieged, having heard and seen the dragging, mounted the walls and appeared on
the lookout towers, hurling an infinite number of stones and a cloud of arrows
against the bearers of the ladders. But notwithstanding, audacious young men,
who wished to outstrip the assault of the bigger ladders, set up small ladders
such as ten men are accustomed to carry, and climbed the walls one after the
other. But when anyone of them reached out to grasp the summit and go over the
wall, those hiding inside and lying in wait for the climbers, hurled him back
with spears and pikes and javelins as he clung to the ladder so that no one, no
matter how bold or swift, any longer dared to approach the besieged by the
smaller ladders. Meanwhile, others were trying to drive holes in the walls with
the mallets of masons and all kinds of iron instruments, and though they tore
away a great part of the wall they had to retire, frustrated. But when the crowd
of pullers had come close to the walls, and the fighting grew more bitter on
both sides as the overwhelming mass of stones came from inside, the dense shade
of night put an end to the fighting on both sides; and the men of Ghent,
suffering from many wounds, had to wait for the next day when, with the help of
all the besiegers, they hoped to erect the bigger ladders by force and so gain
access to the besieged.
[Chapter 41] The storming of the castle, March 19, 1127
On March 19, Saturday, when day dawned, the besieged, stationed in
various parts of the castle after the day's fighting, had lain down to rest,
thinking they would be safer for a little while since they had fought so well
the day before against the men of Ghent outside. With this sense of security
after the day's success, the guards of the walls had even gone into the count's
house to warm themselves because of the bitterness of the cold and wind, leaving
the court of the castle empty. Then our citizens, on the southern side where the
relics of the saints had been carried out, climbed over the walls by means of
slender ladders and lattices which a single man could carry.
Once inside, without sound or noise, they assembled in battle-line, ready
to fight, and at once ordered the lower ranks among them to go to the big gates
and remove the mass of earth and stones from the gates in order to make an
entrance for all those still outside who as yet knew nothing about what was
going on. They had also found one gate of the castle on the west firmly closed
with key and iron bolt, but not obstructed by a pile of earth or stones, which
the traitors had kept free so that they could by this means admit or send out
anyone they wished. Taking possession of this, our burghers had immediately
forced it open with swords and axes, and the ensuing noise and clamor of arms
inside threw into tumult and motion the army around the castle. Then a great
crowd from the siege rushed into the castle, some to fight, some to plunder
whatever they could find inside, others so that once they got inside the church
they could seize the body of blessed Count Charles and carry it off to Ghent.
Now the
traitors, who were lying sunk in deep sleep in the count's house, were aroused
by the great noise, and alarmed, not knowing what had happened; they ran here
and there trying to find out what was the cause of the noise. And when they had
learned what dangers threatened them, rushing to arms, they took their stand at
the doors of the church, awaiting the attack. Some of them were intercepted at
one of the gates during the advance of our citizens into the castle; in fact,
many knights, to whom the custody of those gates on the east had been entrusted,
on suffering the impact of the invading citizens, surrendered to the pity and
mercy of their captors when they could do no more. Some of them, despairing of
their lives if they were taken by the citizens, slipped over the walls; one of
these, a knight, Gilbert, fell in sliding over and died. When some women had
dragged him into a house and were caring for his remains, the castellan Thierry
and his men, discovering the dead man, dragged him, tied to the tail of a horse,
through all the streets of the town and finally threw him into the sewer in the
middle of the market and decapitated him.
When the citizens realized that they intended
to resist at the doors of the count's house, they climbed the steps leading up
to those doors and cut them down with their axes and swords; rushing in on the
besieged they pursued them through the middle
And when
the traitors had retreated into the church, the citizens did not pursue them
further but turned back to plunder and loot, running through the count's house,
and the provost's house, and the dormitory and cloister of the brothers. All who
had taken part in the siege did the same, hoping to lay hands on the treasure of
the count and the equipment of the houses located within the walls. And
in fact, believing they could loot without any sense of guilt, they set about
seizing in the count's house a great many mattresses, tapestries, linens, cups,
vessels, chains, iron bolts, bonds, shackles, fetters, collars, manacles, in
other words, the iron instruments of captivity in general, the iron doors of the
count's treasure, and the lead gutters which had carried the water off the
roofs. In the provost's house also
they seized beds, chests, benches, clothes, vessels, and all his furniture. In
the cellars of the count and provost, and also in the cellar of the brothers, I
cannot tell how much grain and meat and wine and beer they seized! In the
dormitory of the brothers which was spread with precious and expensive coverings
they did so much looting. that they kept on going and coming for that purpose
from the time they entered the castle until far into the night.
[Chapter 42] The besieged try to defend the church, March 19, 1127
Therefore nothing but the church was left to the besieged except for the
foodstuffs they had carried into the church, that is, wine and meat, flour,
cheese, legumes, and the other necessities of life. The names of those who were
the leaders among the besieged should be told: the castellan Hacket, Borsiard,
Robert the Young, Walter, son of Lambert of Aardenburg, Wulfric Cnop. For
the provost Bertulf on the third night, that is, Thursday night, before the
storming of the castle, after giving a sum of as much as forty marks to Walter
the butler was swung down by ropes from beneath his balcony and escaped alone.
He trusted Walter more than any man on earth but nevertheless, Walter, after
leading him to a wasteland called Mor, abandoned him, exposed to his enemies and
forsaken in his flight since in that unfamiliar place he did not know where he
should flee or to whom.
Then the
besieged ascended the towers of the church and rolled down mill stones on those
who were moving about in the castle, and they inflicted serious injuries on
those who were carrying out all the furniture as loot; many of these, fatally
crushed, perished on the spot. The victors of the castle at once shot arrows
against the windows of the tower so that no one in the tower could put his head
out the windows without having a thousand arrows and a thousand missiles aimed
at him. The whole tower looked bristly with so many arrows sticking into it! But
since nothing was accomplished in this way on either side, the besieged hurled
fire onto the roof of the school, adjacent to the church, trying in this way to
set fire to the provost's house which was next to it. But, frustrated in this,
they ran hither and thither on the floor of the church, both in the choir and in
the inner sanctuary, armed and watchful, trying to prevent anyone from getting
in through the windows or forcibly breaking open the doors of the church.
[Chapter 43] The storming of the church, March 19, 1127
At early dawn, a young man, one of the crowd from Ghent, climbed by
ladder up to the chief window of the sanctuary of the church, and breaking the
glass and iron work with his sword and pike, boldly slipped in and opened one of
the chests of the sanctuary, hunting for booty. Leaning over, he had begun to go
through the contents, moving his hand here and there, when the lid of the chest,
which was heavy and inclined to fall, struck that thief and looter and threw him
back dead; and he lay there dead for a long time, covered up by a pile of
feathers, for an enormous pile of feathers was lying in the sanctuary.
Meanwhile, when the boy did not return, the men of Ghent, who had been waiting
for him for a long time, wanted to force their way through the window, for they
had sent him ahead, as the boldest, to try and open a way for them into the
church; they had hoped in this way to secure the body of the count. But our
citizens resisted them with arms and they have never allowed the men of Ghent
even to speak of carrying off the count's body in their presence.
Our citizens were very indignant, even more
than anyone would believe, that any of the men should attempt to carry the body
away from our place. When the men of Ghent tried to go ahead, both sides drew
their swords, and a tumult broke out, and everybody ran to the fight. The
besieged, moreover, seized the moment to attack the victors as strongly as they
could. The men of Ghent contended that they had the right to carry off the
count's body with them to Ghent because it was their equipment of ladders that
had struck terror into the besieged and forced them to flee from the castle,
whereas our citizens asserted, on the contrary, that their equipment had proved
to be no good, that they had done nothing in the siege but steal and impose a
great burden on our place. The more sensible men among the victors, hearing the
uproar and finding out about the victory' and the strife, halted the fight and
quieted the tumult, saying: "Do not fight over this! Let us wait rather
until God has bestowed on us and the realm a good and legitimate count. Then a
decision about the body will be reached by his counsel and that of the barons of
the realm and our bishop and all the clergy."
And so, having restored peace in this way,
they appointed men who were armed and audacious for the assault on the church.
When the best troops were assembled, they
broke in by force and rushed through the door of the church that opens into the
cloister and chased the besieged from the floor below up into the gallery. And
here those serfs, who had impiously and fraudulently betrayed the most worthy
count of the land, were now shut in with their lord although it was through no
desire of theirs that they were confined with their lord the count. Then at last
the men of Ghent, having entered the sanctuary, hunted for the young man whom at
dawn they sent ahead through the main window of the sanctuary, and they found
him among the feathers, crushed and dead. Some said falsely that he had been
killed by Borsiard when he was heedlessly sliding down into the church. There is
not time to tell how many stones were hurled from the gallery at the victors on
the floor of the church, and how many were struck down, crushed and wounded by
spears and arrows, so that the whole choir of the church was covered with piles
of stones and no pavement could be seen. The walls and glass windows round about
and also the stalls and seats of the brothers were thrown down, and so complete
was the ruin and confusion that nothing in the church retained its holy and
untouched appearance but everything looked defiled and deformed, more horrible
than if it were a prison. For in the gallery the besieged had made defense posts
for themselves out of chests and altar tables and choir seats and stools and
other furniture of the church, and had tied them together with the ropes of the
bells. They broke into pieces the bells and the leads which had formerly covered
the roof of the church, using them to crush those below. Within the church, that
is, the choir, the fight raged most fiercely, but from the tower and the doors
of the tower such slaughter went on that I cannot describe or consider further
the multitude of those who were struck down and wounded.
This section is originally from Galbert of Bruges, The Murder of Charles the Good, translated by James Bruce Ross (Columbia University Press, 1953). We thank Columbia University Press for allowing us to republish this section.