After some demur, Philip consented to grant their petition.  Possibly he was not loth to be persuaded.  The deputies hastened back to Bruges to rejoice their fellow-citizens with the news, and to prepare a reception for their appeased sovereign, calculated to make him content with the late rebels.

Before the grand cortege, composed of the two dukes, their consorts, and the dignitaries who had assisted in the feasts of marriage and of chivalry, reached the gates of Bruges, the citizens were ready with a touching spectacle of humility and repentance.[25]

A league from the gates, the magistrates and burghers stood in the road awaiting the travellers from St. Omer.  All were barefooted and bareheaded.  Under the December sky they waited the approach of the stately procession.  When the duke arrived, they all fell upon their knees and implored him to forgive the late troubles and to reinstate their city in his favour.  Philip did not answer immediately—­delay was always a feature of these episodes.  Thereupon, the Duke of Orleans, both duchesses, and all the gentlemen joined their entreaties to the citizens’ prayers.  Again a pause, and then, as if generously yielding to pressure, Philip bade the burghers put on their shoes and their hats while he accepted at their hands the keys of all the gates.  Then the long procession moved on towards Bruges.  At the gate were the clergy, followed by the monks, nuns, and beguins of the various convents and foundations, bearing crosses, banners, reliquaries, and many precious ecclesiastical treasures.  There, too, were the gilds and merchants, on horseback, with magnificent accoutrements freshly burnished to do honour to the welcome they offered their forgiving overlord.

Throughout Bruges, at convenient places, platforms and stages were erected, whereon were enacted dramatic performances, given continuously, to provide amusement for the collected crowds.  Sometimes the presentation carried significance beyond mere entertainment.  Here a maid, garbed as a wood nymph, appeared leading a swan which wore the collar of the Golden Fleece and a porcupine.  This last beast was to symbolise the Orleans device, Near and Far, as the creature was supposed to project his spines to a distance.

One enthusiastic citizen covered his whole house with gold and the roof with silver leaves to betoken his satisfaction.  Indeed, if we may believe the chroniclers, never in the memory of man had any city incurred so much expense to honour its lord.  The duke permitted his heart to be touched by these proofs of devotion, and on the very evening of his arrival he evinced that his confidence was restored by sending the civic keys and a gracious message to the magistrates.  At the news of this condescension the cries of “Noel” re-echoed afresh through the illuminated streets.