THE AGE WHEN GHENT WAS GOVERNED BY ITS GUILDS
It was on the 12th of July, 1302, that the guildsmen of
Flanders--chiefly, as we have seen, those from the two cities of
Bruges and Ypres--humbled the chivalry of France and demonstrated the
fact that the guilds of the great Flemish communes were a power to be
reckoned with. Obviously, when the greatest monarch of the day had
been so decisively beaten there was no longer any question as to the
relative importance of the guilds and the local Counts of Flanders.
The latter, though still figuring prominently in the history of the
time, were unable to cope with the might of their united subjects, and
only by the help of their overlords of France, by bribery and even by
downright treachery, were they able to maintain themselves on their
tottering thrones at all. This period is the most interesting in the
long history of Flanders, for it was during the fourteenth century
that the land of the Flemings just missed becoming a nation, and,
possibly, a republic. That it failed was due to the fact that, while
there existed a splendid and indomitable spirit of freedom in every
true Flemish breast, the sense of loyalty was local instead of
national. To his guild and his commune the Fleming was intensely
loyal, but his patriotism--fine as it was--was too narrow. Each
commune acted solely for itself, uniting with the others in time of
great and impending peril, but often sending its armies to fight a
sister commune over some trifling dispute as soon as the common danger
was over. The princes were able, by cunningly taking advantage of this
defect in the Flemish character, to play one commune against another
and, by dividing the hosts of the guildsmen, to establish finally a
tyranny too powerful to be thrown off. For one hundred and fifty years
after the Battle of the Spurs, however, the guilds--although now and
then temporarily defeated--were, in the main, supreme throughout the
length and breadth of Flanders, and it was still another century
before the last spark of civic freedom at Ghent was finally
extinguished.
Two days after the great fight at Courtrai the victors, headed by the
redoubtable Peter de Coninck, William of Juliers and Guy of Namur,
entered the city of Ghent and "converted" the too lukewarm magistrates
to the popular side. The patrician Liliaerts were expelled from the
magistracy and many were killed or driven from the city. The Count
fought stubbornly on, nor did the war with France end immediately, but
in almost every instance the guildsmen were able to maintain the
results of their great victory and firmly establish the foundation of
their power. In the government of the commune of Ghent their voice was
a potent one. Naturally the wool-spinners and weavers were the
dominant organisations, while the _petits-métiers_, or minor
industries, were also represented.
The apprentice system was rigidly enforced among all the guilds, but
the policy of the organisations was liberal in this respect--for
example, an apprentice was often sent for a year's journey in other
cities or countries in order to obtain a wider knowledge of his craft.
The guildsmen had a hearty and honest pride in good and skilful
workmanship, and the officers of the guilds supervised the quality of
the goods turned out and imposed penalties for poor workmanship or the
use of inferior materials. Each guild had its own house or
meeting-place, and while the fine guild houses on the Marché aux
Grains date from a somewhat later period, they were no doubt preceded
by earlier structures. It was one of the dreams of the Professor to
rummage about in these ancient edifices, poring over the archives of
the guilds and inspecting the rooms and halls where their ofttimes
stormy meetings were held. In this he was destined to be disappointed,
for while the exteriors of several of these historic buildings have
been carefully restored, the interiors are now devoted to private uses
and contain little of interest to the visitor. The archives have been,
for the most part, preserved in the ancient castle of Girard the
Devil. Some of the old guild banners still exist, but the guild houses
themselves are only the empty shells of the powerful organisations
that once made them their homes.
[Illustration: Photograph by E. Sacré. POST OFFICE, CHURCH OF ST.
NICHOLAS, BELFRY AND CATHEDRAL, GHENT.]
The most famous structure in Flanders dates from this epoch in the
town's history. This is the Belfry that has looked down on the red
roofs of Ghent for nearly six hundred years. The first Belfry was
begun in 1183, but the present structure was built in 1313-1339, since
when it has been several times modified and "restored"--not always
successfully. The latest restoration was carried out by the municipal
authorities as a preparation for the International Exposition held at
Ghent in 1913 and was carefully and intelligently done. There are
three hundred and fifty-five steps in the staircase by which visitors
ascend the tower, and the climb is one that richly repays those who
make it. On a clear day one can see beyond Bruges to the northwest, as
far as Antwerp to the east and Audenaerde to the south. So densely
peopled is the Flemish plain that these great cities lie almost close
enough together to be within sound of great Roland.
This was the renowned bell which the burghers of Ghent had cast and
hung high on their Belfry as an emblem of the city's freedom from
tyranny and a tocsin to summon the sturdy guildsmen to its defence
when danger threatened. It bore the following inscription in Flemish:
Mynen naem is Roelant, als ick clippe dan ist brant
Als icke luyde, dan ist storm in Vlaenderlandt.
Freely translated, this is what the bell gave as its autobiography:
My name is Roland; when I speak softly there is fire at hand,
But when I roar loudly it means war in Flanderland.
The original Roland was cast in 1314, or twelve years after the Battle
of the Spurs. It weighed twelve thousand, five hundred pounds and was
the pride of the city, but was destroyed by order of Charles V when he
forced the burghers abjectly to submit to his despotism in 1540.
In the lower part of the tower is the "secret room" where from 1402
the burghers kept, behind triple doors as at Bruges, the charters and
privileges of the city. The famous dragon at the tip of the spire was
for centuries said to have been brought from the Orient at the time of
Baldwin of Constantinople, but recent researches in the archives of
the city have shown that it was made at Ghent in the year 1377-78.
Adjoining the Belfry is the Cloth Hall erected for the most important
of the city's four hundred guilds. The upper hall is now used as a
Bureau of Information for Tourists, while the lower one is a
Rathskeller. Here the columns and vaulted roof greatly resemble the
crypt of Girard the Devil's castle, save that the little tables and
excellent Munich and Pilsen to be had there make it decidedly more
cheerful. The edifice was begun in 1425 and finished, or, at least,
the work was stopped, in 1441. Behind the Cloth Hall, but nestling
close against it, is the quaint little entrance to the communal
prison, which was built in 1741 when the prisoners were confined on
the lower floor of the Cloth Hall. Over the door at the top of the
façade is the celebrated bas-relief representing the legend of the
Mammelokker. The carving really tells all there is to the story; which
is, in brief, that, on one occasion, when an old man was condemned to
die of starvation, his daughter--who just then had a baby whom she was
nursing--secretly gave the breast to her aged parent, thus saving his
life.
While the Belfry was being built by the burghers of Ghent, France and
England were drifting into the Hundred Years' War. The Count of
Flanders, Louis de Nevers, was ardently loyal to France and utterly
blind to the interests of the great woollen manufacturing communes
over which he ruled and to those of his own dynasty. In 1336, no doubt
at the instance of the King of France, he ordered all the English
merchants in Flanders to be arrested and their goods confiscated. The
King of England, Edward III, promptly retaliated by prohibiting the
exportation of wool from England to Flanders and the sale of Flemish
woollens in his Kingdom. In a few months the Flemish communes of
Ghent, Bruges and Ypres found themselves facing utter ruin as a result
of this economic conflict. The spinners and weavers were idle, the
markets deserted, actual starvation existed, and many of the guildsmen
were forced to wander off into the countryside to beg for food.
It was at this critical moment that the great figure of Jacques Van
Artevelde appears upon the stage of Flemish history. Son of a rich
wool and cloth merchant who had been long prominent among the
Clauwaerts, or foes of French domination, Jacques Van Artevelde was a
man of wealth and position who by ancestry and calling was inclined to
the popular rather than the aristocratic side. On December 28, 1337,
he harangued the men of Bruges in behalf of peace with England, in
spite of the obstinate and fatuous policy of the Count. As a result of
his eloquence, abundantly enforced by the ruin and misery then
prevailing on every side, the people decided unanimously to establish
a revolutionary government, which was accomplished peacefully on the
third of the following month. Van Artevelde was recognised as the
foremost of the five captains then chosen to administer the government
of the city, and was given a larger guard than his colleagues. The
helpless Count of Flanders, unable to resist, was obliged to ratify
the new policy of the burghers, and by the middle of the year 1338
the embargo was formally raised on both sides, the woollen industry
started up once more, and Flanders was declared to be neutral as
regarded the contest between its two powerful neighbours. In short,
the wise policy of Van Artevelde was completely triumphant and the
country again placed on the road to renewed prosperity.
Under the direction of the great tribune the weavers were now the
dominant factor in the government of Ghent, and soon the influence of
Van Artevelde made itself felt in Bruges, Ypres and all the other
Flemish communes, where the guild leaders became likewise the heads of
the magistracy. The Count strove to reassert his power, but Van
Artevelde stormed the Castle and the prince was forced to accompany
the men of Ghent to the annual procession at Tournai wearing their
colours. The "White Hoods," as the warriors of the popular party were
called, destroyed the castles of several of the lesser nobility who
dared to resist their authority and throughout all the land Van
Artevelde reigned supreme. Edward III, after vainly endeavouring to
win the Count of Flanders to his side by flattering matrimonial
offers, ended by treating directly with Van Artevelde as if with a
sovereign prince.
It was the genius of the great Ghent captain that conceived the
brilliant idea of overcoming the reluctance of the Flemish communes to
take sides with England against their feudal suzerain, the King of
France, by having Edward claim the crown of France, and it was in
consequence of his arguments that the English monarch finally took
this bold but adroit step. On the 26th of January, 1340, the communes
formally recognised Edward as their suzerain on the Marché du Vendredi
at Ghent--one of the many great events that have taken place on that
historic spot. The King made Ghent his headquarters, and it was in the
old Castle of the Counts that his third son, known in English history
as John of Gaunt (Ghent), was born. In the same year occurred the
great Battle of Sluys, in which Edward III led the English ships of
war into the harbour of that town where the French King Philip had
assembled a vast fleet. The defeated Frenchmen leaped overboard in
hundreds only to be slain by the Flemings as they swam ashore. No man
dared tell the King of France of this great disaster until the royal
jester broke the news by exclaiming, "The English cowards! Oh, the
English cowards!" On the King's inquiring what he meant by this, the
jester replied, "They were afraid to jump into the sea as our brave
Frenchmen did at Sluys!"
This brilliant year, however, saw the climax of the power of Van
Artevelde. Already the other Flemish communes were beginning to
grumble at his rule, outbreaks occurring at Audenaerde, Dendermonde
and Ypres. King Edward began to besiege Tournai with the aid of Van
Artevelde, but on the French King agreeing to a truce he returned to
England, leaving his faithful ally to take care of himself as best he
could. To make matters more difficult, he failed to pay the subsidies
he had promised, and the tribune was violently accused of having
played the people false. Meanwhile the guildsmen began to dispute
between themselves, and on Monday, May 2, 1345, in spite of the
entreaties of Van Artevelde, the fullers and weavers engaged in a
bloody battle on the Marché du Vendredi in which the former with their
_Doyen_, or leader, were massacred. This sad day was called the _Kwade
Maendag_, or Bad Monday.
Early in July Van Artevelde had a last interview with Edward at Sluys.
On his return to Ghent a mob of malcontents, led by men in the pay of
Count Louis of Nevers, besieged the great tribune in his house, crying
that he had betrayed the country. After vainly trying to argue with
them, he reluctantly permitted himself to be drawn away from the
window by his followers, who sought to persuade him to seek safety in
flight. It was too late, however, as the mob had already burst into
the house and one of them struck Van Artevelde dead on his own
threshold. For nearly nine years he had been virtually a king in
Flanders, his policy bringing unexampled prosperity to the country and
to his native city.
Although often called a demagogue and a tyrant, Jacques Van Artevelde
ranks as one of the foremost statesmen of his time. He died the
"victim of a faction" and of treachery rather than a popular revolt
against his policies, for the English alliance was steadfastly
continued after his death. To-day his statue stands on the Marché du
Vendredi, where, in 1340, he burned the papal interdict against
Flanders. It represents him in the act of delivering the famous speech
by which he won the allegiance of his fellow citizens to the English
alliance. Count Louis profited little by his treachery, for a little
over a year later, August 26, 1346, he fell in the great battle of
Crécy where the English archers, fighting by the side of many Flemish
guildsmen, gave the death blow to mediæval chivalry and utterly
crushed the power of France.
The weavers, who under Van Artevelde had become the dominant power in
all of the Flemish communes, soon had good reason to regret his fall,
for the new Count, Louis of Maele--named like most of the Counts of
Flanders from the place where he was born, the great castle of
Maele--was able by liberal promises and the restoration of ancient
charters and privileges to win the support of most of the cities. At
Ghent the butchers, fish merchants, and boatmen's guilds submitted,
followed by the fullers and minor industries. The weavers, although
their numbers had been greatly reduced by the plague, held out
stubbornly, but were massacred on the Marché du Vendredi, Tuesday,
January 13, 1349, their captain and their _Doyen_, Gérard Denys--the
man who had slain Van Artevelde--being flung into the Lys. The victors
called this bloody day _De Goede Disendach_, or Good Tuesday, and it
certainly amply revenged the Bad Monday four years before when the
weavers were the aggressors. The members of the unfortunate guild were
now hunted down like dogs throughout all Flanders, great numbers
fleeing to England where they established the weaving industry--King
Edward wisely welcoming the exiles and giving them every aid in his
power to settle in his Kingdom. Later the competition of these
fugitives and their descendants gave Flanders good cause to rue the
folly of the internal strife that thus drove away some of the best
workmen in the country.
The numerical superiority of this guild, however, and the fact that
its members were necessarily more skilled than the fullers, led to its
gradual recovery, and by 1359 the weavers were again admitted to a
share in the government of the communes and the fullers were relegated
to the inferior position to which their smaller numbers and less
skilled work entitled them. Louis of Maele made Bruges virtually his
capital, but during the greater part of his reign of forty years was
able to continue on fairly peaceful terms with the turbulent city of
Ghent by means of a careful and detailed adjustment of the order of
precedence between the various guilds which was devised about the year
1352 and continued in effect for nearly two centuries. In 1369 the
daughter of the Count married Philip the Bold, Duke of Burgundy and
brother of the King of France--an event full of dire significance for
the guildsmen as it led to their having, in after years, the powerful
Dukes of Burgundy as their over-lords instead of the comparatively
feeble Counts of Flanders. In 1377 Count Louis held a great tournament
in the Marché du Vendredi. Despite the long conflict between the
guilds the city was at this period very prosperous.
The Count, however, who was always short of money, sold to the
citizens of Bruges the right to construct a canal from their port to
the River Lys. At this Ghent, headed by the Boatmen's Guild, flew to
arms and a civil war broke out in 1379, the men of Ghent fearing that
they might lose their monopoly of the grain traffic. After various
successes and reverses the Count besieged the city and had very nearly
reduced it by starvation when Philip Van Artevelde, son of the famous
tribune, came forward and was made Captain-General of the city, in
1382. The new leader, and a motley crowd of five thousand half-starved
followers, marched on Bruges, where the Count, at the head of a host
of over forty thousand, attacked them under the walls of the city. The
larger army, however, was a mere rabble--over-confident and half
intoxicated--and Van Artevelde won a complete victory. The Count of
Flanders was compelled to hide for the night under a heap of straw in
a poor woman's hovel, and later escaped to Lille and so to France.
Van Artevelde treated the captured city with generosity and was soon
captain of all Flanders. His next battle was with the King of France,
but this time he was less fortunate, and at Rosbecque, November 27,
1382, the Flemish host was cut to pieces and its leader slain. Louis
of Maele himself died two years later, leaving the reputation of being
the worst and weakest of the line of Flemish Counts, as well as the
last. It was at his request that the French had invaded the country,
which they swept with fire and sword after the defeat of the Flemish
guildsmen, but the victory was of no benefit to the broken-down old
man who no longer dared to show himself in Flanders and died at Paris
in poverty and neglect.
As an offset to these remarks regarding the weakness of Louis of Maele
it is only fair to that worthy to relate a little legend generally
attributed to his reign. It is said that on a certain occasion the
magistrates of Ghent--which was at the time renowned as the most
opulent city in Europe--were invited to a great feast given in honour
of some foreign king. Those in charge of the arrangements forgot,
however, to put cushions on the chairs and the men of Ghent
accordingly threw their richly embroidered cloaks upon them, and
retired when the feast was over without putting them on again. When
reminded of this the Chief Magistrate replied, "The Flemings are not
accustomed to carry their cushions with them." Not only the grandees
but the bourgeois citizens at this period were said to wear purple and
fine linen. The baths, "stooven," frequented by both sexes, became the
scenes of great vice and disorder and one ancient chronicler reports
an incredible number of murders as occurring during a single year at
gaming tables and drinking places. All this would seem to show that
Louis of Maele was not so bad a sovereign--for at least the country
prospered under his rule--but in reality he had, as we have seen, very
little to do either with the actual government or public policy during
his long reign.
No visitor to Ghent fails to take a look at De Dulle Griete, or "Mad
Margery," Philip Van Artevelde's big cannon that stands in the
Mannekens Aert. According to Froissart, Van Artevelde took with him to
the siege of Audenaerde "a bombard which was fifty feet in length, and
shot stones of immense weight. When they fired off this bombard it
might be heard five leagues off in the daytime, and ten at night.
The report of it was so loud, that it seemed as if all the devils in
hell had broken loose." Mad Margery seems to have shrunk considerably
since Froissart's time, for she is now nineteen feet long and three
feet in diameter at the mouth. The gun was made of wrought iron and
weighs thirty-four thousand, one hundred and sixty-six pounds, and was
capable of throwing a stone weighing seven hundred and eight pounds.
[Illustration: DE DULLE GRIETE, GHENT.]
Another interesting monument dating from the same period in the city's
history as the Belfry is the Hospital of the Biloque or Biloke. Some
of the buildings are of much more recent construction, but the Gothic
chapel was built early in the thirteenth century, apparently about
1228, with a double gable and immense timber roof. The former
Refectory offers an example of early brick work at one of its ends,
_le beau pignon_, that is a joy to architects, and has often been
described and illustrated in the technical books. The timber roof of
this structure is also noteworthy. It is now used as a hospital for
old men. This edifice is a century later than the chapel, while some
of the other buildings date from the seventeenth and eighteenth
centuries.
Ghent contains two Béguinages, a circumstance that gives not a little
trouble to visitors who in trying to visit one are about always--at
least that was our experience on two occasions--directed to the other.
Both are large, but one is more notable for its antiquity and the
other for its size and the perfection of its appointments. The first
Béguinage in Ghent was founded by Jeanne of Constantinople in 1233 as
a place of refuge for women disciples of the church who in those evil
days felt the need of protection, but did not desire to enter the
conventual life. Little houses sprang up and the institution proved so
popular that a second Béguinage was soon established which came to be
called the Petit Béguinage. Protected by the successive Counts, and
particularly by the patronage of the Countesses of Flanders, both
institutions flourished and expanded steadily. The present Petit
Béguinage de Notre Dame dates largely from the seventeenth century,
and the Chapel and streets of tiny houses inhabited by the Béguines
are most picturesque. It has accommodations for three hundred sisters.
The Grand Béguinage de Ste. Elisabeth was confiscated during the
French Revolution and the property presented to the almshouses of the
city of Ghent. The Committee in charge of the almshouses suffered
the Béguines to remain undisturbed, however, until 1872 when
strained relations resulting from this arrangement led to the Béguines
giving up their establishment, which was modernized by the authorities
and many of its interesting features destroyed. The church remains,
having become a parish church, and the rue des Prébendières retains
its original appearance. Meanwhile, the Duke of Arenberg purchased
ground for a new Grande Béguinage at Mont St. Amand, and here a little
city of small houses, designed in fifteenth-century Flemish style, and
a new chapel were erected, the work being completed in 1874.
[Illustration: WORKROOM, PETIT BÉGUINAGE DE NOTRE DAME, GHENT.]
We spent a very charming afternoon visiting the Grande Béguinage.
Passing through the lofty gateway we were greeted by the
pleasant-faced Béguine who receives all visitors and who directed us
how to reach the buildings we were permitted to see. As at Bruges, the
cells were not shown to visitors. Altogether at St. Amand there are
fourteen "convents" and eighty houses, the former accommodating twenty
or thirty inmates and the latter two or three, with occasionally some
lady from the outer world who is taken as a lodger. Each little house
is numbered and also has a name, usually that of some saint. Arriving
at the convent we had been permitted to visit we were first conducted
down a long, clean corridor, painted a glaring white, to a parlour or
reception room, of which there appear to be several. Then, after the
Lady Superior had been notified of our presence and had come to
welcome us, we were taken to the _refter_, or dining-room. The
inventor of the kitchen cabinet could have taken points from this
curious apartment. Along the walls and between the windows are a dozen
or more cupboards, of which one belongs to each Béguine. Here she
keeps her napkins, dishes and cooking utensils, and even her bread and
provisions. A board can be pulled out near the middle, which serves as
a table. These cupboards are so constructed that no Béguine can see
into that of her neighbour, and apparently they take their meals one
at a time, as one was eating her frugal repast when we entered, and
when we passed through the room again a little later her little
private refectory was closed and another one was seated at her little
shelf or table. Adjoining this queer dining-room was a large kitchen,
with an extremely big cook stove, on which a half-dozen little pots
were simmering gently. One Béguine, we were told, has the duty of
attending to the kitchen for three weeks, then another, each taking
turns. The Béguines prepare their own meals to suit themselves, the
one in charge of the kitchen merely looking after the actual process
of cooking.
We next visited the workroom, where a group of Béguines were busily
engaged in making lace. The bright sunshine streaming through the
large windows on the silent group of workers, each clad in her sombre
garb of black and white, made a pretty picture. All seemed to be
care-free and contented, though the expression on their faces could
hardly be described as one of happiness. As in all conventual
institutions, the inmates are required to go through quite a series of
devotional exercises from morning mass to the Benediction Night
Prayers. The scene in the little chapel attached to each convent, or
in the large chapel of the entire Béguinage, when the sisters are
assembled for service is a very picturesque one and gives the visitor
an impression likely long to be remembered.
Speaking of the peculiar dining customs of the Béguines reminds me
that in Flanders the judicious should not overlook the importance of
doing justice to the culinary treats that are provided by even the
little hotels. For those travellers who look upon eating as one of the
disagreeable necessities of existence, to be shirked or evaded as far
as possible, and, in any event, to be hurried through with quickly
lest something be overlooked that the immortal Mr. Baedeker said must
be seen, this is one feature of Flemish life that will make no appeal.
On the other hand, for those who are neither mentally nor bodily
dyspeptic; who agree with the French aphorism that "the animals feed,
while man eats"; and who are still able to enjoy a good meal well
planned, well cooked, and well served, a trip through Flanders will
bring a new pleasure every day. A peep into any Flemish kitchen will
convince the most sceptical that here, at all events, one's stomach is
not likely to be forgotten. Pots and kettles, casseroles and pans,
pitchers and jugs, large and small, hang around the walls or rest upon
long shelves--all of brightly polished copper and ready for instant
service.
The great meal of the day in all parts of Flanders is the dinner, and
it cuts the day in two--coming between noon and two o'clock and
usually lasting an hour or more. The evening meal, or supper, is much
less important, save in a few hotels catering largely to tourists. To
get up a real Flemish dinner, cooked and served in the best style of
which the Flemish cooks are capable, the housewife first ascertains
when the local butcher has fresh-killed meat and plans accordingly.
Vegetables in Flanders are always good, in their respective seasons,
but to get the finest quality of meats one must buy just after the
butcher has made a killing. To Americans, who have been accustomed all
their lives to eat meat that has been kept on ice, it almost seems as
though one has never tasted a roast of beef or a shoulder of mutton
before--so deliciously sweet, tender and juicy are they when cooked
and eaten before the ice has robbed them of their richness and
flavour.
It was while we were browsing around Ghent that the ladies discovered
a bit of handicraft that seems worth mentioning. We subsequently saw
the same thing at Brussels and Antwerp, so that it appears to be
distinctly a Belgian industry. In a large window they noticed two
women engaged in what from over the way might have been taken for
lace-making. Mrs. Professor hurried across at once to investigate and
she and the Madame spent half an hour watching the operation. Each of
the two women was engaged in repairing, the one a pair of trousers and
the other an overcoat. In each case the repair consisted of literally
weaving a new segment of cloth in place of the damaged portion. First
cutting out all of the latter they frayed out an edge of the goods at
some point where there was sufficient material turned under for their
purpose. This done they took short strands of each of the various
coloured yarns and, with infinite patience and skill, wove them
together in an exact reproduction of the design of the original
textile. So cleverly was the work done that when completed the
reparation could not be detected. It is possible that repairing of
this kind is done in America but none of us had ever seen or heard of
it. In Belgium it seemed to be fairly common, being styled _Reparation
invisible_, and the price varying from one to three or four francs for
each hole repaired, according to the nature of the goods and the
design. We also saw rugs being repaired in the same manner, as well as
ladies' dress goods of every description.
It is one of the most deplorable features of the war that its most
fearful destructiveness should have been wreaked upon a little country
where every small economy and patient utilisation of trifles had been
practised for centuries. All Belgium is pre-eminently a land of
thrift, of painstaking husbanding of small resources, and to beggar
half the population of such a country means a calamity to each family
group and individual far more poignant than would be the case where
frugality was less deeply ingrained as a national characteristic.