THE SPELL OF BELGIUM
[Illustration: _Grande Place and Belfry, Furnes_ (_See page 249_)]
_The_ SPELL _of_ BELGIUM
_BY
Isabel Anderson
Author of "The Spell of Japan," etc._
ILLUSTRATED
BOSTON
THE PAGE COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
_Copyright, 1915, by_
THE PAGE COMPANY
_All rights reserved_
Made in U.S.A.
First Impression, October, 1915
Second Impression, January, 1916
Third Impression, June, 1917
Fourth Impression, March, 1919
Fifth Impression, January, 1922
PRINTED BY C. H. SIMONDS COMPANY
BOSTON, MASS., U.S.A.
DEDICATED
WITH AFFECTION TO MY GODCHILD
CHARLES PELHAM GREENOUGH
MAY HE BE AS BRAVE AS THE BELGIANS
FOREWORD
Belgium has contributed generously to the world in the past. Much has
been destroyed in this ruthless war, but much remains, for Belgium had
much to give. How splendid are her unique guild-halls with their fretted
towers, her massive mediæval gates and quaint old houses bordering the
winding canals!
Through centuries, in one way or another, she has continued to hold the
world's admiration. In olden times, when the clever weavers wrought
historic scenes in their Flemish tapestries, they surely wove into the
hearts of our forefathers the Spell of Belgium. In Belgium, the home of
the violin, we have listened to the magic strains of the great masters
and been charmed by the musical verses of Maeterlinck. There, too, we
have gazed upon her inimitable Rubens and van Eycks. But today we stand
spellbound before the Belgians themselves, the heroes of this war.
The legends of Antwerp were written out by the eminent Flemish
historian, Sleeckx, over fifty years ago, and were found in the library
at Antwerp. This version has been translated directly from the Flemish,
and is believed to be unknown to the world, outside of Antwerp literary
circles.
I wish to thank Her Excellency, Madame Havenith, wife of the Belgian
Minister in the United States, for information, letters and photographs,
and Mrs. Abbot L. Dow, whose father, General Sanford, was one of the
most popular American Ministers ever in Belgium, as well as Miss Helen
North, who lived for many years in that beautiful country. I wish, also,
to thank the _National Magazine_ for the use of a portion of the chapter
on Motoring in Flanders. My thanks are due to Miss Gilman and Miss
Crosby, too, for their kind assistance.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
FOREWORD
I. THE NEW POST
II. DIPLOMATIC LIFE
III. BRUSSELS BEFORE THE WAR
IV. IN DAYS OF KNIGHT AND VILLAIN
V. BATTLING FOR A KINGDOM
VI. BELGIAN KINGS
VII. POLITICS AND PLURAL VOTING
VIII. BELGIUM'S WORKSHOPS
IX. TAPESTRIES
X. PRIMITIVES AND LATER PAINTERS
XI. LA JEUNE BELGIQUE IN LETTERS
XII. MOTORING IN FLANDERS
XIII. LEGENDS OF ANTWERP
XIV. IN THE WALLOON COUNTRY
XV. A LAST WORD
I SYNOPSIS OF THE WAR
II LETTERS FROM THE FRONT
III AMERICAN RELIEF WORK
BIBLIOGRAPHY
INDEX
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
GRANDE PLACE AND BELFRY, FURNES (_in full colour_) _Frontispiece._.
MAP OF BELGIUM
THE ROYAL PALACE, BRUSSELS
BURGOMASTER MAX
AMERICAN LEGATION, BRUSSELS
LIBRARY, AMERICAN LEGATION, BRUSSELS
MARIE JOSÉ, THE LITTLE PRINCESS
COMTESSE DE FLANDRE
PALAIS D'URSEL
M. CARTON DE WIART, MINISTER OF JUSTICE
A FLEMISH _KERMESSE_ (_in full colour_)
YSAYE
HOUGOMONT
COMTE DE FLANDRE, SECOND SON OF KING ALBERT
ANCIENT BOURSE, ANTWERP
THÉÂTRE DE LA MONNAIE, BRUSSELS
LEOPOLD I
LEOPOLD II
KING ALBERT
QUEEN ELIZABETH
BARON DE BROQUEVILLE
AN OLD LACEMAKER (_in full colour_)
BRUSSELS POINT LACE
"SINCE THE WAR BEGAN, DOGS HAVE BEEN OF GREAT SERVICE IN DRAGGING
THE MITRAILLEUSES"
DIANA TAPESTRY
DAVID AND GOLIATH TAPESTRY
"L'HOMME À L'OEUILLET."--VAN EYCK
ST. LUKE PAINTING THE MADONNA.--VAN DER WEYDEN
PORTRAIT OF A MAN AND HIS WIFE.--RUBENS
CHARLES I AND HIS FAMILY.--VAN DYCK
MAURICE MAETERLINCK
EMILE VERHAEREN
CORNER OF THE COURTYARD, PLANTYN-MORETUS MUSEM, ANTWERP
LAC D'AMOUR, BRUGES
COUNT EGMONT'S TOWER, HERZÈLE
SAND DUNES, NIEUPORT (_in full colour_)
CLOTH HALL, YPRES, AFTER BOMBARDMENT
SPIRE OF THE CATHEDRAL, ANTWERP
CATHEDRAL, ANTWERP
INTERIOR OF AN OLD HOUSE, ANTWERP
WELL OF QUENTIN MATSYS, ANTWERP
A VILLAGE IN THE ARDENNES (_in full colour_)
PRINCE HENRI DE CROŸ
GENERAL VIEW OF LIÈGE
CHÂTEAU DE WAULSORT ON THE MEUSE (_in full colour_)
ROCK OF BAYARD, DINANT
OLD HOUSES ON THE SAMBRE, NAMUR
CITADEL, NAMUR (_in full colour_)
NIEUPORT (_in full colour_)
CARDINAL MERCIER
THE BELGIAN ARMY
BELGIAN REFUGEES
THE CHÂTEAU OF ARDENNE
CROWN PRINCE LEOPOLD, DUC DE BRABANT
THE BELGIAN ARMY AT LA PANNE
THE _HARPALYCE_
MADAME VANDERVELDE
[Illustration: _Sketch Map of BELGIUM and part of HOLLAND_]
THE SPELL OF BELGIUM
CHAPTER I
THE NEW POST
The winter which I spent in Belgium proved a unique niche in my
experience, for it showed me the daily life and characteristics of a
people of an old civilization as I could never have known them from
casual meetings in the course of ordinary travel.
My husband first heard of his nomination as Minister to Belgium over the
telephone. We were at Beverly, which was the summer capital that year,
when he was told that his name was on the list sent from Washington.
Although he had been talked of for the position, still in a way his
appointment came as a surprise, and a very pleasant one, too, for we had
been assured that "Little Paris" was an attractive post, and that
Belgium was especially interesting to diplomats on account of its being
the cockpit of Europe. After receiving this first notification, L.
called at the "Summer White House" in Beverly, and later went to
Washington for instructions. It was not long before we were on our way
to the new post.
Through a cousin of my husband's who had married a Belgian, the Comte de
Buisseret, we were able to secure a very nice house in Brussels, the
Palais d'Assche. As it was being done over by the owners, I remained in
Paris during the autumn, waiting until the work should be finished. My
husband, of course, went directly to Brussels, and through his letters I
was able to gain some idea of what our life there was to be. He lived
for the time being in the Legation which had been rented by the former
Minister. Through another cousin, who had been American Minister there a
few years before, he secured much valuable information regarding his new
mission. I say new, because he had been in the Service for twelve years
before this--at first, as Second Secretary of Legation and afterward of
Embassy in London; then as First Secretary of Embassy and Chargé
d'Affaires in Rome.
The royal family had not returned to town, so he was compelled to wait
for an opportunity to present his credentials. Finally, however, he
received a notification that the King of the Belgians would grant him a
special audience at eleven o'clock on the eighteenth of November.
[Illustration: THE ROYAL PALACE, BRUSSELS.]
The ceremonial proved to be most interesting, everything perfectly done
and very impressive. Two state carriages of gala, accompanied by
outriders, came to the Legation a few minutes before eleven, bringing
Colonel Derouette, commanding officer of the Grenadiers, who was met at
the door by the Secretary of Legation, Mr. Grant-Smith. L. was escorted
to the great state coach, "which swung on its springs like a
channel-crossing steamer."
The steps were folded up, the door closed, the footmen jumped up behind,
and the little procession of prancing horses in gorgeous harness, with
two outriders on high-steppers, proceeded. Following this
carriage--which, by the way, was elaborately decorated and gilded, and
had lamps at all four corners--came the second state carriage with the
Secretary and the Military Attaché.
Passing through the broad, clean streets of the city, they soon entered
the wide square before the palace. This building, which is almost
entirely new within the last few years, stood behind parterres of sunken
gardens, beyond a broad _place_, with the old park opposite, through
which there was a vista with the House of Parliament at the other end.
The guard of carabineers was turned out as the procession passed, and
their bugles sounded the salute. The state carriages continued on
through the fast-gathering crowd, crossed the sunken garden, and entered
the porte-cochère of the palace, where a group of officials stood at
attention. L. was escorted up to the entrance and into the great
gallery, where were the major-domo and a line of footmen in royal red
livery.
At the foot of the grand staircase stood two officers in full uniform,
one wearing the delightfully old-fashioned, short green embroidered
jacket and the cherry-coloured trousers of the smart Guides Regiment.
When they had been presented, they turned and led the way up the great
staircase. At the top another aide of the King, Baron de Moor, a
strikingly handsome man who looked stunning in his uniform and
decorations, met them. Then in continued procession they passed through
great rooms, which were simple yet splendidly palatial in style, with
fine paintings and frescos, but with little furniture.
Finally L. came to a room where the King's Master of Ceremonies, Comte
Jean de Mérode, came forward, and was presented. He disappeared through
a door, saying that he would go and take the King's orders, and returned
immediately with the word that His Majesty was ready.
"The doors were opened _à double battant_ by servants standing at each
side," L. wrote in his letter describing the audience; "I was rather
taken by surprise, for the room into which I was being ushered was a
vast apartment, and not like the small state rooms in which on previous
occasions I had been introduced for reception by royalty. The officials
took their positions at a distance, in a semi-circle, so that any
conversation could have been entirely confidential. I advanced, making
my three bows.
"The King is a tall, fine, clean-looking man. He was dressed in simple
military uniform, wearing but one star."
L. expressed his appreciation for the granting of the audience and the
opportunity it gave of presenting his letters of credence, as well as
his predecessor's letters of recall, and of conveying a message of
greeting from the President of the United States with assurances of the
sympathetic interest of the American people in Belgium's progress.
When the King had received the letters and handed them to a
gentleman-in-waiting, he conversed with my husband in a very low tone,
speaking of his visit of fifteen years ago in America, and of his
admiration for the American people and for their great advances in
matters of science and hygiene, especially of the successful sanitary
work which we had accomplished in Panama.
They talked of the house which we had taken, and the King said that he
had lived in it for nine years, and that all of his children had been
born there. He expressed his admiration for President Taft, and said
that he very frequently read his speeches and wished to send a message
in return in acknowledgment of the President's greetings.
When the King indicated that the audience was over, the party bowed
itself backward out of the room, and the procession re-formed in the
next salon. L. had been notified that immediately after his audience
with the King he would be received by Her Majesty the Queen. So the
procession passed in similar order through a series of salons and
corridors, the different gentlemen leaving him at the points where they
had met him on his entry, their places being taken by others of the
Queen's _entourage_. So they came to a smaller but still handsome suite
of apartments, where the Queen's Master of Ceremonies met them. He also
disappeared through a door to take Her Majesty's orders, and returned to
say that my husband was to be received at once. As the room was not so
large as that in which the King had received him, the approach to the
Queen was easier.
"The Queen is petite and charming," he wrote me; "from what those who
escorted me said, she is looking very much stronger than she has since a
recent serious illness. They all seem to be delighted at her recovery.
She is exceedingly sweet and gracious, and speaks with a little manner
of shyness. She was very simply dressed in what I should call a rose
chiffon with a little scarf of black and white chiffon over her
shoulders. (I hear she is very fond of pretty clothes.) She asked about
the President, and I told her of his health and activities, and of his
trip through the states. Her Majesty also spoke of the Palais d'Assche
and of their life in it, asked after you, Isabel, and spoke of my
cousin, Caroline de Buisseret. I tried as best I could to answer her
gentle inquiries."
During the afternoon L. and his secretary made visits on the court
officials and the chief members of the Government, leaving cards on the
Queen's ladies-in-waiting and grand-mistresses and on the members of the
Cabinet, as well as on the Governor of Brabant, and on Burgomaster Max.
He was received by the Papal Nuncio, the _Doyen_ of the Diplomatic
Corps, with much ceremony, and found him to be a typical, good-looking
priest.
Burgomaster Max has had an interesting career since we met him in
Brussels. Before his day there were two famous burgomasters who had
served their city with special distinction. The first was Chevalier de
Locquenghieu who, in 1477, had the Willebroeck Canal built, through
which the Prince of Orange made his entry into town. The second was
Baron de Perch, who was chosen seven times to serve as burgomaster when
the glory of Brussels was at its height, early in the seventeenth
century. By their side today stands a third--Monsieur Adolphe Max.
When the German army was approaching the city it was he who discussed
the situation with the American Minister, Mr. Brand Whitlock, and with
the Spanish Minister, Marquis Villaloba, as the King and his Cabinet had
already removed to Antwerp. They all agreed that, with the troops
available, the city could only hold out for a short time against the
Germans, that many lives would be sacrificed, and art treasures and
historic buildings destroyed. Brussels must surrender.
[Illustration: BURGOMASTER MAX.]
Soon after entering the city the German general sent for Max. When he
came into the room the general pulled out a revolver and thumped it down
on the table. Looking him straight in the eye, the burgomaster pulled
out a pen and thumped that down on the table beside the general's
weapon. The challenge of the pen and the gun--which, I wonder, will
prove stronger in the end?
Under the Germans the life of the city continued peacefully, although
somewhat changed. The new rulers issued paper money for war currency.
The citizens were expected to pay their tradesmen with it, and were
assured that it was "just as good as gold." But when Burgomaster Max
offered it to the German general as payment of the huge indemnity
required of Brussels it was refused, and gold demanded instead. Max
later had trouble with the authorities, and as he had made several
speeches to the populace he was sent to a prison in Germany. The last I
heard of him he was still there.
Not long after my husband's presentation at Court came the King's
name-day, an occasion for fêtes and gala. The streets were gay with
marching soldiers and people in their best clothes. There was a Te Deum
at the church of St. Gudule, and of course the Diplomatic Corps went in
full dress uniform to do honour to the King. Their carriages joined in
the procession, while the cavalry deployed about and escorted the state
officials. At the church doors officers received the arrivals, and as
each Minister passed inside the portal the orders rang out in the quiet
church. There was a clank of arms as a guard of honour, standing on each
side of the transept aisle, came to "present arms," and a ruffle of
drums.
When the Queen came--the King did not attend--she was met by the Papal
Nuncio and prelates and escorted by priests, while the band played a
solemn march with slow beat of drums. So she passed up into the chancel,
bowing to the altar and to the diplomats and the Ministers of State.
Then she passed beneath the baldachino with the King's mother, the
Comtesse de Flandre, and the little Crown Prince, the Duc de Brabant,
who was all in white. About them knelt the gentlemen- and
ladies-in-waiting.
The priests intoned before the altar, and the music took up the
beautiful and impressive service, part of which dates back eight hundred
years. High at one end a choir and orchestra were in a gallery, and
joined the great organ in filling the vaults with lovely harmonies as
the mass proceeded, while the scent of incense rose through the soft
haze of the interior to the famous stained-glass windows above.
The Queen sat beneath her canopy at the side of the high altar with her
little court surrounding her, the diplomats in their full regalia were
in a group at one side, the Ministers of State in their uniforms in a
group at the other, with the judges of the court in their scarlet robes
which made bright splashes of colour. The military music resounded in
slow marches and re-echoed through the spaces where candles only dimly
lighted the shadows.
When they came out of church they noticed above them, floating in the
sky, a great dirigible balloon, manoeuvering majestically over the
city, silent and impressive. How little did they think that similar
balloons would so soon be dropping bombs upon their peaceful country!
That evening the Minister of Foreign Affairs gave a gala dinner in
honour of the King's fête-day, and all the Chiefs of Mission and some of
the court dignitaries attended. Madame Davignon, wife of the Minister,
a handsome and distinguished woman, received with His Excellency. The
gathering was impressive, and the diplomatic uniforms were rich with
gold lace and decorations. Madame Davignon presided at this dinner of
men only, the Minister sitting opposite her at the U-shaped table. Some
plenipotentiaries were accredited to Paris as well as to Brussels, and
came on for special functions. Although these were mostly South
Americans, they were very fine in their regalia, as were also the Turks
in their fezzes and the Persians in their astrakhan hats. After dinner
there was a real "_recivimento_," when distinguished people came in to
pay their respects to the Minister of Foreign Affairs without
invitation, as used to be the custom in Rome.
A few days after that L. made up a little party and ran out to Termeire,
the de Buisseret château. The motor trip took about an hour and a half,
the car running smoothly and swiftly between villages and jiggling over
the famous Belgian blocks that pave the towns. The country was like
France, with the ditches on either side of the road and the rows of
trees, and like Holland, too, with its canals. About the château there
was an extensive park with game, where they hunted in the autumn, and
_étangs_ and bridges and fine old trees.[1]
[1] The story of the de Buisseret misfortunes since
the war began has been a sad one, like that of many of the
Belgian aristocracy. Their château, which we visited so often,
has been destroyed, Madame de Buisseret has died, and the
children are scattered.
After luncheon they visited the lovely château of the Duc d'Ursel, where
they met the Duchess, who has been in Paris since the war began, having
established there the Franco-American OEuvre des Soldats Belges. They
also met the charming, old-world Duchess Dowager. From there they ran
along the banks of the Scheldt to the Pavillon, a most interesting
little building, both in architecture and decoration.
It may be that there were more châteaux in the south, in the Walloon
provinces, but Flanders was by no means lacking in fine old houses.
Melis, the Edmond de Beughems' place, was quite enchanting. A long
avenue of deep trees brought one to a stone gateway with the family arms
sculptured above it, and fortified walled buildings stretching away on
either side. Crossing a garden and a moat, one came to the entrance of
the quaintest little old château imaginable.
On one side its gray walls dipped straight down into the moat, while on
the other were green lawns and bright-coloured gardens, with splendid
overhanging trees and a still lagoon with white floating swans. Beyond
the deep, protecting waters were the forests of the park, with long
alleys leading the eye to far-away vistas.
From the bridge above the moat one passed beneath the old portcullis and
the bastion with its loopholes into a little lop-sided courtyard. Here
the walls were all pinkish and yellow, the old brickwork breaking
through the ochre plaster placed on it in a different generation and
overgrown with ivies and climbing roses. Indoors the rooms were low and
tiny and filled with old-fashioned furniture.
Melis was not a great and battlemented fortress, but a small and
homelike place, so miniature that it seemed as if one might put it in a
pocket. No doubt it really was, as the family admitted, very cold and
damp and uncomfortable, but on a warm sunny day it appeared quite one's
ideal of what a château in Flanders ought to be.
While I was still staying quietly in Paris, I found much pleasure in
reading about the historic old city which I was so soon to see.
Its legends attracted me especially. There was one, for instance, about
Guy, the poor man of Anderlecht. His parents were serfs, and he began
his career as a labourer in the fields of a nobleman who lived near the
castle of Brussels. It happened one day that Guy's fellow-workmen
complained to their master, who provided them all with their midday
meals, that Guy always took part of his share of the food home to his
parents and consequently was late in beginning the afternoon work. The
master was very indignant and went to the fields himself the next day to
see if it were true, and to thrash the young man soundly if he did not
return on time. Sure enough, when the moment came to begin work again,
Guy failed to appear. But--in his place at the plow stood an angel!
It was said that the devil never tried but once to tempt Guy. That was
when a rich Brussels merchant entered into partnership with him,
promising to make his fortune. On his first journey down the river Senne
after this his boat ran upon a sand-bank. When Guy seized a pole to push
off, his fingers became fastened to it and he could not release them
till he had made a solemn vow that he would give up forever the search
for wealth. Even during his lifetime he was regarded as a saint, and
pilgrims fell on their knees before him. When he lay dying it was said
that a heavenly light filled the room. The oldest church in Brussels,
where he used to pray as a child, was afterwards dedicated to him, its
name being changed from St. Peter to St. Peter and St. Guy.
It is Michael the Archangel, however, and not Guy, who is the patron
saint of Brussels. A statue representing him with his foot upon a dragon
was placed on the spire of the Hôtel de Ville by Philip the Good about
1450, and has stood there resplendent ever since. He survived even the
religious wars of the sixteenth century, although the mob did not look
upon him with a very indulgent eye.
The castle of Brussels, mentioned in connection with the legend of Guy
of Anderlecht, was doubtless that built by Duke Charles of Lorraine, the
grandson of Charlemagne, in 981. It stood on an island in the river,
next to the church of St. Géry, and is supposed to have been the first
dwelling in this region. The city's name, "Bruk Sel," means the "manor
in the marsh." One of Duke Charles's daughters married Count Lambert of
Lorraine, who built a wall about the little town to keep out robber
knights. Seven noble families, of whom the de Lignes show quarterings
today, built houses of stone near the seven gates, which were guarded by
their retainers. For that reason seven is considered Brussels' lucky
number.
During the next two centuries many knights left Brussels for the
crusades. Few people know that it was a little Belgian page, named
Blondel, who sang "A Mon Roi" outside Richard Coeur de Lion's window
when he was taken prisoner at this time. Under the weak hand of Count
Godfrey the Bearded, in the twelfth century, the citizens of the town
seized the opportunity to establish for themselves a position midway
between the serfs and the nobles. In the following century they won
still more privileges--or rather, bought them--of their duke, John the
First, who needed money to carry on his wars. When he was killed in
battle his successor found the townspeople were becoming too powerful
for his liking, and did what he could to keep them in hand.
This city on the Senne first sprang into importance about the year 1200,
when the great highroad was built from Bruges to Cologne, making
Brussels a station on the busy trade route. The town gradually spread on
to the surrounding hills. When the population was about fifty thousand,
in the fourteenth century, the weaving industry was started. The counts
of Louvain made their homes there, and the dukes of Burgundy, who united
Flanders and Brabant, frequently held their courts there in the century
following. During the reign of these powerful dukes the city became so
prosperous that it was outranked only by Ghent and Bruges.
Andreas Vesalius, a native of Brussels, born in 1515, deserves mention,
as his name stands out in the scientific history of the world. He is
called the "Founder of Human Anatomy," because of his discoveries. After
studying at Louvain he became court physician to Charles V, and a
distinguished professor and author. It is told how once when "Vesalius
was dissecting, with the consent of his kinsmen, the body of a Spanish
grandee, it was observed that the heart still gave some feeble
palpitations when divided by the knife. The immediate effect of this
outrage to human feelings was the denunciation of the anatomist to the
Inquisition. Vesalius escaped the severe treatment of that tribunal only
by the influence of the King, and by promising to perform a pilgrimage
to the Holy Land." On this voyage he was shipwrecked in the Ionian Sea,
and was buried on the island of Zante.
From the beginning of its history Brussels has been the center of much
fierce fighting. Men--and women, too--have led their armies to its
attack or defense, and many thousands have died about its walls. In
1695, Marshal Villeroi of France bombarded it, reducing the lower town
to ashes. Less than forty years later Marshal Saxe repeated the
performance. For all that it has continued to grow and prosper. Under
the Hapsburgs it was made the capital of the Low Countries, and in 1830
it was recognized as the capital of the new nation of Belgium.
The last remains of its walls were removed by the late King, Leopold II,
in his effort to make the city more sanitary. Besides this, he did much
to modernize and beautify it as well. It became a model little capital,
made up of many _communes_, forming in all a city about the size of
Boston. The more I read about it, and the more I learned of the life
there, the more eager I became to see it all for myself, and it was with
joy that I finally received word that we could move into our new home.