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THE SPELL OF FLANDERS
* * * * *
THE SPELL SERIES
_Each volume with one or more colored plates and many
illustrations from original drawings or special photographs.
Octavo, with decorative cover, gilt top, boxed._
_Per volume $2.50 net, carriage paid $2.70_
THE SPELL OF ITALY
By Caroline Atwater Mason
THE SPELL OF FRANCE
By Caroline Atwater Mason
THE SPELL OF SOUTHERN SHORES
By Caroline Atwater Mason
THE SPELL OF ENGLAND
By Julia de W. Addison
THE SPELL OF HOLLAND
By Burton E. Stevenson
THE SPELL OF SWITZERLAND
By Nathan Haskell Dole
THE SPELL OF THE ITALIAN LAKES
By William D. McCrackan
THE SPELL OF TYROL
By William D. McCrackan
THE SPELL OF JAPAN
By Isabel Anderson
THE SPELL OF SPAIN
By Keith Clark
THE SPELL OF FLANDERS
By Edward Neville Vose
THE SPELL OF THE HOLY LAND
By Archie Bell
THE PAGE COMPANY
53 BEACON STREET, BOSTON, MASS.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Cathedral of St. Sauveur, Bruges_
(_See page 47_)]
THE SPELL OF FLANDERS
An Outline of the History, Legends and Art of Belgium's
Famous Northern Provinces
Being the story of a Twentieth Century Pilgrimage in a
Sixteenth Century Land just before the Outbreak of the Great War
by
EDWARD NEVILLE VOSE
Illustrated
Boston
The Page Company
MDCCCCXV
Copyright, 1915,
by the Page Company
All rights reserved
First Impression, April, 1915
The Colonial Press
C. H. Simonds Company, Boston, U. S. A.
To
ALBERT I.,
King of the Belgians, the guiding star of a brave nation and
the hero of the Battle of Flanders in the Great War, this book
is dedicated
PUBLISHERS' NOTE
Lord Beaconsfield once said: "Flanders has been trodden by the feet
and watered by the blood of countless generations of British
soldiers." This famous passage--which has received a new confirmation
to-day--is typical of many references among English writers and
statesmen to Flanders as a general term covering all of what is now
known as Belgium. Among the citizens of that brave little Kingdom,
however, and among most Continental writers, Flanders is recognised as
being the name of only the northern part of Belgium. Small as that
country is, it has for centuries been bi-lingual, the northern portion
speaking Flemish, the southern French; and for centuries the history
of the Flemish provinces was as distinct from that of the Walloon
province to the southward as the early history of California or Texas
was from that of New England.
Although eventually united under one Government with the Walloons and
with what is now Holland, it was during the long period of their
semi-independence that the Flemings achieved many of the artistic and
architectural monuments that have made Flanders for all time one of
the most interesting regions in the world.
While this book, therefore, does not attempt to describe the whole of
Belgium, it does present a pen picture of the northern part of the
country as it existed almost at the moment when the devastating
scourge of the Great War swept across it.
FOREWORD
This book is the record of a vacation tour in the beautiful old
Flemish towns of Northern Belgium beginning in May and ending in July
of the Summer of 1914. The assassination of the Austrian Archduke
Ferdinand and his wife at Sarajevo took place while our little party
was viewing the mediæval houses and churches of Ghent and Audenaerde,
but in the many discussions of that event to which we listened there
was no whisper of the awful fate which the march of events was so soon
to bring upon one of the most charming, peaceful and happy countries
in the world.
Many of the descriptions in the following pages were written in or
near the towns described, and within a day or so after the visit
narrated. Then each old Flemish "monument" was in as perfect a state
of preservation as the reverent pride and care of the Belgian populace
and the learned and skilful restorations of the Belgian government
could together accomplish. The fact that since these accounts were
written many of these very towns have been swept by shot and shell,
have been taken and retaken by hostile armies, have formed the stage
upon which some of the direst tragedies of the world's greatest and
most terrible war have been enacted, will--it is hoped--give them a
permanent interest and value. As a painting of some famous city as it
appeared many years or centuries ago is of the utmost historical
interest, even though by an inferior artist, so these halting word
pictures of towns that have since been wholly or partially destroyed
may help the reader to recall the glories that have passed away.
In accordance with the plan described in the first chapter, the tour
of Flanders followed a decidedly zigzag itinerary, frequently visiting
some town more than once. The purpose of this was to follow, in a
fairly chronological sequence, as far as possible, the development of
Flemish history, architecture and art. The outline of the intensely
fascinating history of the old Flemish communes that has been thus
presented may prove of interest to many readers who have been thrilled
by the superb bravery of the little Belgian army in its defence of
Flanders against overwhelming odds. As these glimpses into the past
clearly show, the men of Belgium have engaged in a battle against
foreign domination from the earliest ages. That it was at times a
losing struggle never for a moment diminished the ardour of their
resistance, or the depth of their devotion to liberty and the right to
rule themselves. And when we consider how, during these centuries of
conflict, and in defiance of obstacles that would have daunted a less
strong-hearted people, the men of Flanders found the inspiration, the
patience and the skill to erect some of the noblest examples of
mediæval architecture, to create a school of painting that ranks as
one of the most priceless heritages of the ages, and to excel in a
half a score of other lines of artistic endeavour, we surely must all
agree that here is a people we would not willingly see perish from the
earth.
If to be neutral is to stand by and silently acquiesce in the
destruction of Belgium as an independent nation, then the author of
this book is not neutral. In every fibre of his being he protests
against such a course as a crime against liberty, against humanity.
Happily, from every corner of the United States come unmistakable
evidences that the American people as a whole are not, at heart,
neutral on this subject. The embattled farmers who stood on the
bridge at Concord and fired "the shot heard round the world" have
thrilled the imagination and stimulated the patriotism of every
American schoolboy, but no less heroic is the spectacle of the little
Belgian army under the personal leadership of its noble King standing
like a rock on the last tiny strip of Belgian soil and stopping the
onrush of the most powerful fighting organisation in the world. At
Nieuport and Dixmude and along the bloodstained Yser Canal, the men of
Belgium fought for the same cause of liberty for which our forefathers
fought at Bunker Hill. Whatever our sympathies may be with respect to
the larger aspects of the great world war--and as to these we may most
properly remain neutral--our national history and traditions, the very
principles of government to which we owe "all that we have and are,"
cannot but confirm us in the profound conviction that no conclusion to
this war can be just and right, or permanent, that does not once more
restore the Belgian nation and guarantee that it shall remain
completely and forever free.
On the other hand, while news of the damage done to some famous
Flemish church or Hotel de Ville causes the author sensations akin to
those that he would experience on learning of the wounding of a
friend, this book will contain no complaint regarding German
destruction of these monuments of architecture. At Ypres and Malines,
where the havoc wrought cannot fail to have been fearful, the damage
was done in the course of battles in which the most powerful engines
of destruction ever invented by man were used on both sides. Much as
we may deplore the results, we cannot blame the individual commanders.
At Antwerp, Ghent, Bruges and many other famous Flemish cities the
Germans appear to have made every effort to avoid wanton destruction
and preserve the most notable historic edifices. After the war is over
and we have learned exactly what structures have been destroyed, and
under what circumstances, we can justly place whatever blame may
attach to such a catastrophe where it belongs--but not until then. For
the present we can only hope that the damage may be less than has been
reported, and that in many instances it will be possible for the
Belgians--so skilful in the work of restoration--to reconstruct the
sections of famous buildings that have been damaged.
When the war is over many thousands of Americans and English will be
eager to visit the battle-fields of Flanders and see for themselves
the scenes of conflicts that will forever hold a great place in human
history. The author ventures to hope that this little book may be
found serviceable to such tourists as it contains much information not
to be found in any guide book. If it aids any of them--or any of the
far larger host of travellers whose journeys in far-off lands must be
made by their home firesides--to understand Flanders better it will
have achieved its purpose. It is one of the many ironies of the war
that towns like Ypres and Malines, which were rarely visited by
American tourists when they were in their perfection, will, no doubt,
be visited by thousands now that the clash of arms has brought them at
the same moment destruction and immortal fame.
EDWARD NEVILLE VOSE.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
PUBLISHERS' NOTE vii
FOREWORD ix
I. INTRODUCING FLANDERS AND THE FOUR PILGRIMS 1
II. VIEUX BRUGES AND COUNT BALDWIN OF THE IRON ARM 15
III. BRUGES IN THE DAYS OF CHARLES THE GOOD 30
IV. HOW BRUGES BECAME "THE VENICE OF THE NORTH" 54
V. DIXMUDE AND FURNES 78
VI. NIEUPORT AND THE YSER CANAL 94
VII. WHEN YPRES WAS A GREATER CITY THAN LONDON 116
VIII. COURTRAI AND THE BATTLE OF THE SPURS 146
IX. GHENT IN THE DAYS OF THE FLEMISH COUNTS 169
X. THE AGE WHEN GHENT WAS GOVERNED BY ITS GUILDS 192
XI. PHILIP THE GOOD AND THE VAN EYCKS 218
XII. TOURNAI, THE OLDEST CITY IN BELGIUM 242
XIII. THREE CENTURIES OF TOURNAISIAN ART 268
XIV. THE FALL OF CHARLES THE BOLD--MEMLING AT BRUGES 285
XV. MALINES IN THE TIME OF MARGARET OF AUSTRIA 311
XVI. GHENT UNDER CHARLES THE FIFTH--AND SINCE 344
XVII. AUDENAERDE AND MARGARET OF PARMA 367
XVIII. OLD ANTWERP--ITS HISTORY AND LEGENDS 393
XIX. THREE CENTURIES OF ANTWERP PRINTERS 411
XX. ANTWERP FROM THE TIME OF RUBENS TILL TO-DAY 438
XXI. WHERE MODERN FLANDERS SHINES--OSTENDE AND "LA PLAGE" 464
XXII. THE SPELL OF FLANDERS 480
BIBLIOGRAPHY 485
INDEX 489
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
CATHEDRAL OF ST. SAUVEUR, BRUGES (_in full colour_)
(_See page 47_) _Frontispiece_
MAP OF BELGIUM AND THE NETHERLANDS,
SHOWING THE OLD FLEMISH PRINCIPALITY _facing_ 1
BÉGUINAGE BRIDGE, BRUGES 35
TOMB OF MARIE OF BURGUNDY, CHURCH OF NOTRE DAME, BRUGES 51
PALAIS DU FRANC, BRUGES (_in full colour_) 59
THE BELFRY, BRUGES 63
THE MINNEWATER, BRUGES 71
SHRIMP FISHERMEN, COXYDE 93
TOWER OF THE TEMPLARS, NIEUPORT 99
AN ANCIENT PAINTING OF THE FLEMISH KERMESSE BY TENIERS 115
CLOTH HALL, YPRES 119
HOTEL MERGHELYNCK, YPRES 139
CHURCH OF ST. PETER, YPRES 141
STATUE OF PETER DE CONINCK AND JOHN BREIDEL, BRUGES 154
CASTLE OF THE COUNTS, GHENT 170
RUINS OF THE ABBEY OF ST. BAVON, GHENT 184
POST OFFICE, CHURCH OF ST. NICHOLAS, BELFRY AND
CATHEDRAL, GHENT 195
DE DULLE GRIETE, GHENT 208
WORKROOM, PETIT BÉGUINAGE DE NOTRE DAME, GHENT 210
"SINGING ANGELS," FROM "THE ADORATION OF THE
LAMB"--JEAN VAN EYCK 236
"GEORGE VAN DER PAELE, CANON OF ST. DONATIAN,
WORSHIPPING THE MADONNA"--JEAN VAN EYCK (_in full colour_) 239
GENERAL VIEW OF TOURNAI AND THE FIVE-TOWERED CATHEDRAL 256
THE BELFRY, TOURNAI 262
A TRIPTYCH OF THE SEVEN SACRAMENTS BY ROGIER VAN DER WEYDEN 272
SHRINE OF ST. URSULA, HOSPITAL OF ST. JEAN, BRUGES 296
AN ILLUMINATION BY GHEERHARDT DAVID OF BRUGES,
1498; ST. BARBARA (_in full colour_) 300
"THE LAST SUPPER"--THIERRY BOUTS 307
QUAI VERT, BRUGES 310
CATHEDRAL OF ST. ROMBAUT, MALINES 312
TOWER OF THE CATHEDRAL OF ST. ROMBAUT, FROM
THE RUELLE SANS FIN 318
_IN HET PARADIJS AND MAISON DES DIABLES_; TWO FIFTEENTH
CENTURY HOUSES, MALINES 333
PORTRAIT OF JEAN ARNOLFINI AND HIS WIFE BY JEAN
VAN EYCK 340
MAISON DE LA KEURE, HOTEL DE VILLE, GHENT 347
PORTRAIT OF THE DUKE OF ALVA BY A. MORO 352
"THE ADORATION OF THE SHEPHERDS"--HUGO VAN DER GOES 362
OLD GUILD HOUSES, QUAI AUX HERBES, GHENT 365
HOTEL DE VILLE, AUDENAERDE 370
WOODEN DOORWAY, CARVED BY VAN DER SCHELDEN,
HOTEL DE VILLE, AUDENAERDE 375
CHURCH OF STE. WALBURGE, AUDENAERDE 383
A FLEMISH TAPESTRY OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY 386
THE _VIELLE BOUCHERIE_, ANTWERP 399
"THE BANKER AND HIS WIFE"--MATSYS 403
"WINTER"--PETER BREUGHEL 405
"DRAGGING THE STATUE OF THE DUKE OF ALVA THROUGH
THE STREETS OF ANTWERP"--C. VERLAT 418
COURTYARD OF THE PLANTIN MUSEUM, ANTWERP 428
ANCIENT PRINTING PRESSES AND COMPOSING CASES,
PLANTIN MUSEUM, ANTWERP 436
"THE DESCENT FROM THE CROSS"--RUBENS 439
"COUP DE LANCE"--RUBENS 442
"_LA VIERGE AU PERROQUET_"--RUBENS 445
PETER PAUL RUBENS 448
"AS THE OLD BIRDS SING THE YOUNG BIRDS PIPE"--JACOB
JORDAENS 453
HOTEL DE VILLE, ANTWERP 456
THE "SALLE DES JEUX," IN THE KURSAAL OSTENDE 476
[Illustration: MAP OF BELGIUM AND THE NETHERLANDS, SHOWING THE OLD
FLEMISH PRINCIPALITY]
THE SPELL OF FLANDERS
CHAPTER I
INTRODUCING FLANDERS AND THE FOUR PILGRIMS
"Flanders! Why, where is Flanders?"
"There! I told you she'd ask that question. You'll have to start right
at the beginning with her, and explain everything as you go along."
We were planning our next vacation tour in Europe, which we had long
before agreed to "do" together this year. That meant a party of
four--the "Professor," as I always called him, and his charming young
wife, my wife, and myself. Like the plays in which the characters
appear on the stage in the order that their names are printed on the
programme, the arrangement I have just given is significant. The
Professor is always first, a born leader-of-the-way. And I am usually
last, carrying the heavy bundles.
Not that I am complaining. No doubt I was born to do it. Moreover, the
Professor and I have been chums since boyhood. We worked our way
through "prep" school and college together, came to New York together,
and--in a modest way--have prospered together. At least, we felt
prosperous enough to think of going to Europe. For some years he has
been the head of the department of history in an important educational
institution within the boundaries of the greater city, while I have
devoted myself to journalism--and am therefore dubbed "the Editor,"
whenever he wishes to refer to me as a personage instead of a human
being, which, happily, is not very often. Of the two ladies in the
proposed party I do not need to speak--not because there is nothing to
say, but because they can speak for themselves. In fact, one of them
has just spoken, has asked a question, and it has not yet been
answered.
"Flanders, my dear," said the Professor, speaking in his most
sententious manner--as if delivering a lecture in his classroom--"is
the most interesting and the least visited corner of Europe. It has
more battle-fields and more Gothic churches per square mile than can
be found anywhere else. In other parts of Europe you can see mediæval
houses, here and there--usually in charge of a smirking caretaker,
with his little guidebook for sale, and hungrily anticipating his
little fee. In Flanders there are whole streets of them, whole towns
that date from the sixteenth century or earlier--but for the costumes
of the people, you could easily imagine yourself transported by some
enchantment back to the days of Charles the Bold, or even to the time
of the Crusaders."
"Yes," I added, "and there is no region in the world where the history
of the past seems more real, more instinct with the emotions that
govern human conduct to-day, than these quaint old Flemish towns. You
stand in front of a marble skyscraper on Fifth Avenue and read a
bronze tablet that tells you that here the Revolutionary forces under
old Colonel Putnam, or whoever it was, delayed the advancing British
and covered General Washington's retreat. Now, does that tablet help
you to reconstruct your history? No, you are quite aware that the
fight took place when Fifth Avenue was open country, but your
imagination will not work when you try to make it picture that scene
for you right there on Fifth Avenue where the tablet says it happened.
"Now, it's different in Flanders. You read in the history about how
the burghers of Bruges, when the Duke of Burgundy, Philip the Good,
tried to overawe the city by placing an army of archers in the
market-place, swarmed out of their houses and down the narrow, crooked
streets like so many angry bees. There are the same old houses, the
identical narrow, crooked streets--a bit of an effort and you can
picture it all--and how the Duke and his archers were driven back and
back, while the burghers swarmed in ever increasing numbers, and the
great tocsin in the belfry shrieked and clanged to tell the valiant
weavers that their liberties were in danger.
"And take that other famous event, when they flung the murderers of
Count Charles the Good--who lived and died five hundred years before
the other Prince who, like him, was surnamed "the Good"--from the
tower of the very cathedral in which they had murdered him. Why, you
can climb the tower and look off across the same sea of red-roofed
houses and down upon the same square, paved with cruelly jagged
stones, as did the condemned men when, one by one, they were led to
the edge of the parapet and sent hurtling down."
"The point is well taken," interrupted the Professor, "only that
particular church is no longer standing--it was destroyed during the
French Revolution. But really that makes little difference--there are
plenty of other towers in Bruges that have witnessed stirring scenes.
And all over Flanders it is the same way--nothing is easier than to
make your history live again, for everywhere you have the original
setting practically unchanged."
"It's all very well for you men," observed Mrs. Professor, when her
husband and I paused to get our breath, "who admire, or pretend to
admire, battles and executions and that sort of thing, but if there is
nothing else to see except places with such dreadfully unpleasant
associations I, for one, don't want to go there."
"On the contrary," I hastened to reply, seeing that the Professor was
much disturbed at this unexpected result of all our eloquence,
"Flanders has a lot of things to interest the ladies. Think of its
famous laces and lacemakers--we can still find the latter at work in
places like Bruges, Malines and Turnhout--of its rare old tapestries
from Audenaerde and Tournai, and the fine linens of Courtrai. Then
there are wood carvings the like of which you will travel far to see,
and old Flemish furniture everywhere."
"To say nothing of the pleasure of learning a little more about the
great Flemish school of art in the very home towns of its most
celebrated artists," added the Professor, who was much elated to see
that the frowns were leaving the fair face of his better half.
"That's much better," she announced. "I've always thought fine
hand-made lace the most wonderful product of feminine patience and
skill, and I should certainly love to watch them make it."
"For my part," remarked the fourth member of the party, who had been
strangely silent during all this discussion, "while I like to learn a
little about the history of the old towns I visit, and see the fine
things--whether paintings, or town-halls, or lace or tapestry--for
which they are famous, what I like the best is to study the people
themselves. I mean the live ones, not those who are dead and gone that
our husbands are talking about. I love to sit on the sidewalk on
pleasant evenings and have dinner and black coffee while watching the
people of the town go by. It's better than a play. And on rainy days
there is always some quaint old-fashioned inn or café where the whole
scene looks like a painting by Jordaens or Teniers. The beamed ceiling
and the pictures on the walls are grimy with the smoke and steam of
countless dinners, the buxom landlady sits in state behind an array of
bottles of all sizes and colours and labelled at all prices, her
equally plump daughters wait on the tables, the very guests--including
ourselves--form a part of the picture. Why, it makes me want to be
back there again, just to think of it!"
"The Madame is right!" exclaimed the Professor heartily--all of our
friends call my wife "the Madame" because she speaks French as
fluently as English. "Our first object on this trip will be pleasure.
A little knowledge of the history of Flanders, of tapestry and
lacemaking, of architecture and art, may enhance our enjoyment of what
we see, because we will thereby understand it better and appreciate
its interest or beauty more keenly. But we are not going over as
historical savants, or as authorities on art--or pretend that we know
any more about such subjects than we really do--"
"Which is just enough to enable us to derive sincere pleasure from
seeing them, and having them explained to us, without troubling our
heads about this, that or the other element of technique," I
interrupted, completing the Professor's sentence for him.
"And the best part of the day will be, just as Madame says," added
Mrs. Professor gaily, "the dinners on the sidewalks, where we can
watch the people as they go about and tell each other of what we have
seen since morning. And, hurray! for the Flemish inns!"
"Well, as to Flemish inns," observed the Madame, "what I said related
to eating a dinner in one. When it comes to sleeping in them there are
other things to think of besides beamed ceilings and picturesque
interiors.
"A few years ago we had an experience at Antwerp that taught us the
folly of arriving at a great continental city late at night without
having hotel accommodations secured in advance. We had started at
eight in the morning from Hamburg, intending to stop at Antwerp just
long enough to transfer our belongings to a train for Brussels that,
according to the time-table, would leave fifteen minutes after our
train arrived. Now, from Hamburg to Antwerp is quite a long
ride--short as the distance looks on the map--and when we finally
arrived at our destination, half an hour late, it was long after
midnight and our train for Brussels had gone.
"We were both tired out, and hastily decided that we would put up at
Antwerp for the night and go on to Brussels in the morning. As we
emerged from the great Gare Centrale we found despite the lateness of
the hour, about a dozen red-capped hotel runners, each of whom
clamoured for our patronage. They all looked very much alike, the
names on their caps meant nothing to us as we were not familiar with
the Antwerp hotels, and we selected one at random. To our dismay we
discovered, when it was too late, that, whereas most of them had hotel
busses in waiting--into which they leaped and were driven off--our
cicerone was not so provided. He attempted to reassure us by saying
that the Grand Hotel de ---- was close by--a fact that produced the
opposite effect from that intended, as we knew that the immediate
vicinity of a large railroad station is seldom a desirable
neighbourhood.
"However, the other porters were now gone and, unless we were disposed
to sleep in the station, there was nothing to do but follow along. To
our further alarm our guide presently turned into a most
unprepossessing street on which several drinking places were still
open, or were only on the point of closing. Into one of these he led
us. After a short conference with the proprietress, who was sitting
behind the bar counting the day's receipts, he took a candle and a
huge key and led us out into the court, then up a flight of stairs
placed on the outside of the house, and through several narrow
passageways. But for the flickering candle everything was completely
dark, and when he finally ushered us into an immense room with a
mediæval four-post bed in its darkest corner we involuntarily looked
for the trap-door down which the murderous inn-keepers of the stories
were wont to cast their victims.
"Lighting a pair of candles on the mantelpiece from his, and wishing
us a civil '_Bon soir_,' our red-capped guide now left us--to our
great relief. Although we tried to dismiss our fears as childish, we
both felt more insecure and helpless than we cared to admit, even to
each other. None of our friends knew that we were in Antwerp. If we
disappeared they would hardly think to look for us there--and still
less on this shabby street, the very name of which we did not know.
"We barricaded the door against a sudden surprise, inspected the walls
with a candle for signs of the secret door (at the head of the
winding stairway up which the wicked innkeeper so often creeps upon
his prey, according to the chronicles) and at last, the fatigue of the
day overcoming our fears, we slept. It was broad daylight when we
awoke, and the street was alive with people--mostly cartmen and
peasants it seemed. With some difficulty we found our way down to the
room where we had seen the landlady the night before. She greeted us
warmly, our fears of the night had fled--and we sat down and ordered,
and enjoyed, a most excellent breakfast. The hotel was quite a popular
one, we learned, much frequented by people from near-by towns, and we
had never been safer in our lives. Yet, just the same, we both vowed
firmly that 'Never Again' would we take similar chances--and we never
have."
"I have thought of that incident more than once while talking over our
Flemish tour with the Professor," I observed, "and have decided upon
this plan. When we find a hotel that suits us all, as regards
cleanliness, cuisine and safety--or rather the sense of security, for
I daresay we would be safe enough in many that we would hardly care to
patronise--we will stay overnight in whatever town we may chance to be
visiting. If, on the other hand, we have not had time to find such a
place, we'll take a train back to Antwerp or Brussels, where there are
hotels that we know all about. We'll get second-class _billets
d'abonnement_ every two weeks anyway, so the rail trip will only cost
us our time."
"And are Antwerp and Brussels both in Flanders?" inquired Mrs.
Professor. "Between you, you have given me an idea that I should like
to visit Flanders, but you have none of you answered my question as to
where it is."
"I think I can answer you, my dear," replied her husband. "There are,
as you probably know, two little provinces in the northern part of
Belgium called East and West Flanders. The boundaries of the Flanders
of history and of art, however, cover a considerable wider area than
these two provinces. Over in France a considerable part of the
Department du Nord was for centuries subject to the Counts of
Flanders. On the other side, to the eastward, the cities of Antwerp
and Malines were for many centuries independent of the Counts of
Flanders, but their people spoke Flemish, their houses, churches and
town-halls were built in the best style of Flemish architecture, and
they became famous centres of Flemish art and learning. To my mind,
therefore, they both belong to Flanders. Brussels, however, while its
Hotel de Ville and Grande Place are splendid examples of Flemish
architecture, is more French than Flemish, and belongs to the Walloon
or French part of Belgium.
"Now, as the Editor here has proposed a plan which seems to me a good
one as regards our hotels, I will venture to suggest one as regards
our itinerary. It will make comparatively little difference which
towns we visit first, and as some are more closely identified with the
early history of Flanders than the others I propose that we visit
these older towns first. At the time of the Crusades Ypres, for
example, had two hundred thousand inhabitants when the population of
London was less than thirty-five thousand and Antwerp was an obscure
little town. Nieuport and Furnes were, at that time, the chief
seaports of Flanders. Now they are miles from the sea. Dixmude, near
by, was another important city of those olden days. Now all these
places are country villages--'the dead cities of Flanders,' they are
called, and scarcely a tourist from America ever visits them, although
they are fairly familiar to our English cousins.
"If we start our pilgrimage in Flanders with Bruges, which was the
first capital of the County of Flanders, and with these old
towns--all of which are hard by--we can plan our journeys
chronologically, so to speak, visiting first the monuments that date
from the twelfth to the fourteenth centuries, then those of the
fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and so on. In that way we not only
can keep the little history we know straight, but we can trace with
our own eyes the gradual development of Flemish architecture and art."
This plan was unanimously voted to be a capital one--in theory, at any
rate--and thus it was that in our subsequent wanderings about
Flanders, under the guidance of the indefatigable Professor, we often
crossed our trail, and now and then visited the same place more than
once. In practice it did not accomplish quite all that was expected of
it by its learned originator--but what plan ever does, or ever will?
That it enhanced the interest of the trip manyfold we all agreed; it
often sustained our flagging zeal, and it helped us to know
Flanders--the Flanders of the past especially--far better than we
would have done in any other way.