A Province That Became a Power
Burgundy, because of its geography on the eastern edge of France around Dijon, and because its dukes ruled wisely and so suffered little from the Hundred Years' War, was for half a century the most renowned Christian state beyond the Alps. When the line of the Capetian dukes of Burgundy died out and the duchy returned to the French crown, King John II gave it to his fourth son Philip in reward for his bravery at Poitiers (1363).
Philip the Bold governed so wisely, and arranged his marriages so shrewdly, that he added Hainaut, Flanders, Artois and Franche-Comté to his duchy. As a result Burgundy, nominally a province of France, became an independent country, enriched by the commerce and industry of Flanders and made famous by its patronage of artists.
Four Dukes, One Growing State
John the Fearless, through a series of alliances and intrigues, extended his power to the point that France felt compelled to stop him. Louis, Duke of Orléans, who governed France in place of his mad brother Charles VI, sought friendship and alliance with the Holy Roman Empire to check this fearless and imprudent duke. But the assassins John had hired gave Louis no time. A fierce quarrel broke out between the Burgundians and the Armagnacs, supporters of Louis's father-in-law, the Count of Armagnac, over control of French policy, and as a result John himself died under an assassin's dagger (1419).
His son Philip the Good renounced all dependence on France and allied Burgundy with England, adding Tournai, Namur, Brabant, Holland, Zeeland, Limburg and Louvain. When he made peace with France in 1435, he forced that country to recognize his duchy, which was in effect a kingdom, and to agree to the transfer of Luxembourg, Liège, Cambrai and Utrecht. Burgundy had now reached the height of its greatness and in power and wealth equaled any country of the West.
Philip the Good
Philip could not earn the title "the Good" from sensitive and compassionate people, since he was not free of cunning, cruelty and unreasonable anger. But he was an obedient son to his country, a capable administrator, and a kind father to his sixteen illegitimate children. He loved women royally and had twenty-four mistresses. He also prayed, fasted and gave alms, and made his capitals Dijon, Bruges and Ghent the centers of Western art after Italy.
His long reign plunged Burgundy and its dependent provinces into such comfort and abundance that only rarely did some subjects raise a clamor over his sins and failings. The cities of Flanders suffered under his rule and mourned their lost guild organizations and local liberties, which had given way to a national economy and central government. Philip and his son Charles defeated their revolts, but to placate them they concluded peace agreements, knowing that the huge revenues of their two duchies came from the industry and commerce of these cities. Before Philip, the Lower Rhine regions had been split into pieces that differed from one another in law, politics, race and language. He made them into a united province, gave them order and harmony, and protected their property and wealth.
The Most Brilliant Courts in Europe
The Burgundian courts at Bruges, Ghent, Liège, Louvain, Brussels and Dijon, not excepting the Florence of Cosimo de' Medici, counted as the most progressive and romantic in Europe in that period (1420–1460). The dukes kept chivalry alive in all its forms. Philip the Good founded the Order of the Golden Fleece (1429). England took some of the grandeur of chivalry from its Burgundian ally, which softened the rough surface of English manners, lent glory to the campaigns of Henry V, and shone in the writings of Froissart and Malory.
The Burgundian nobles, who had lost their independent powers, lived more like courtiers, dressing so beautifully and behaving so charmingly that it suited parasitism and licentiousness. Merchants and manufacturers dressed like kings, and their wives were adorned and nourished as if the stage were being set for Rubens. Under so lovable a duke, being single was thought beneath one's dignity. John of Heinsberg, the pleasure-loving Bishop of Liège, left dozens of illegitimate children; John of Burgundy, Bishop of Cambrai, had thirty-six illegitimate children and grandchildren; many distinguished men of this age of "race improvement" were born that way. Prostitutes were available almost all the time and at any price in the public baths. At Louvain, they called themselves innkeepers and lodged students.
Festivals were frequent and very magnificent. Famous artists arranged the pageants and decorated the tableaux, and people poured into Burgundy from all sides, by land and sea, to watch these splendid shows, in which unclothed women played ancient gods and nymphs.
The Mystics of the Netherlands
Standing out in strong contrast in this exuberant society are the saints and mystics who, under the rule of these same dukes, won an eminent place for the Netherlands in the religious history of the world.
Jan van Ruysbroeck was a priest from Brussels. At fifty (1343) he withdrew to an Augustinian cloister at Groenendael near Waterloo and devoted himself to mystical contemplation and writing. He says the Holy Spirit guides his pen, though his pantheistic leaning tends toward denying the survival of the individual. When we have lost ourselves in ecstasy, he wrote, God himself dwells in the holy person and the person's very being perishes forever. The seventh stage is reached when, free of all knowledge, one arrives in oneself at an endless unknowing; when, beyond all the names we give to God or creatures, one passes into an eternal namelessness and is lost; when all these blessed spirits are seen to have been essentially consumed and lost in their higher essence, in an unknown, formless darkness.
Gerard Groote
At this time, in the Netherlands and the German lands along the Rhine, there were many lay groups: Beguines, Beghards and Brothers of the Free Spirit. Mystical enthusiasm often drove them to piety, social service, silence and peace-seeking, and sometimes to refusal of worship. Gerard Groote of Deventer, after studying at Cologne, Paris and Prague, spent many days with Ruysbroeck at Groenendael and, under his influence, made love of God the pivot of his life.
When he became a deacon (1379), he preached to the people in the vernacular in the towns of Holland. His listeners were so numerous that the churches could not hold them, and people left their work and their meals to hear him. Groote, though fiercely orthodox in belief and himself a "hammer" for beating heretics, criticized the moral laxity of both priests and laity and called Christians to live according to Christ's commands and ethics. The Church declared him a heretic, and the Bishop of Utrecht deprived all deacons of the right to preach.
The Brethren of the Common Life
A follower of Groote, Florens Radewyns, drew up a half-communistic, half-monastic rule for the "Brethren of the Common Life," who lived under Groote's leadership in the "brother house" at Deventer. Without taking monastic vows they occupied themselves with manual work, teaching, religious devotion and copying manuscripts. Groote caught the plague while nursing a friend and died in 1384 at forty-four. But the "Brotherhood" he founded spread its influence to two hundred brother houses in the Netherlands and Germany.
The Brethren gave classical authors an important place in their school curricula and so paved the way for the Jesuit schools, which followed their work in the Catholic Reformation. They welcomed the printing press as soon as it appeared and used it to spread their new holiness and piety.
Alexander Hegius and the Famous Pupils
Alexander Hegius, at Deventer (1475–1498), is the perfect example of those teachers whom fortunate pupils never forget: holy teachers who live only to instruct and guide their students. He reformed the curriculum, put the study of classical texts at its center, and the elegance of his Latin style won the praise of Erasmus. When he died, nothing was left of him but his clothes and books, because in his lifetime he had secretly given the rest of his property to the poor. Among his famous pupils at Deventer were Nicholas of Cusa, Erasmus, Rodolphus Agricola, Jean de Gerson, and the author of the Imitation of Christ.
The Imitation of Christ
We do not know with certainty who wrote this exquisite book, a handbook of humility. The author may have been Thomas Hemerken of Kempen in Prussia. Thomas à Kempis, in the seclusion of his cell at Mount St. Agnes near Zwolle, collected passages from the Bible, the Church Fathers and St. Bernard to interpret and explain the ideal of devotion and a spiritual, unworldly piety in the manner of Ruysbroeck and Groote, and rendered them in simple, fluent Latin.
The book asks: what use is it to dispute about the Trinity if you lack humility and are therefore displeasing to the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit? The truth is that lofty words do not make a man holy and just; a devout life makes him dear to God. If you knew the whole Bible by heart and the words of all the prophets, what use would it be without love of God and his grace? Apart from loving God and serving him, everything is vanity of vanities. The greatest mark of wisdom is to despise the world and turn toward the kingdom of heaven. Yet knowledge itself is not to be blamed, for it is good in itself and God has commanded people to acquire it; but a good conscience and a virtuous life are always better.
He is truly great who has great love in his heart. He is truly great who is small in his own eyes and counts high rank as nothing. He is truly wise who, to win Christ's favor, gives up all worldly attachments, which are like dung. Avoid the noise of men as much as you can, for dealing with worldly affairs is a great hindrance. Truly, living on this earth is misery. What matters is to spend life in obedience and have a superior rather than be one's own master. Obeying is better than commanding. The cell where one lives constantly becomes pleasant.
Why the Book Endures
In the Imitation of Christ there is a health and peace that reflect the simplicity and deep eloquence of Christ's sayings and parables. As a remedy against the excesses of a meddlesome reason and its sophistries, there is no medicine more useful. And when we are anxious about facing the responsibilities life lays on our shoulders, we find no safer refuge than Thomas à Kempis's "fifth Gospel." But who will teach us to be Christians in the true sense amid the stormy whirl of the world?