GHENT UNDER CHARLES THE FIFTH--AND SINCE
But for the great disaster at Nancy, it is altogether probable that
Charles the Bold would, before very long, have sought to chastise the
burghers of Ghent as he did those of Liége, but his unexpected death,
and the ruin of his plans, gave the citizens at least a brief period
of respite from the tyranny that had been pressing more and more
heavily upon them since the "bloody sea of Gavre." His daughter,
Marie, was only nineteen when her father's fall placed her at the
mercy of the turbulent communes, and at Ghent as well as Bruges she
was forced to grant a charter restoring the many privileges that
Charles and Philip the Good had taken away. She was even helpless to
save the lives of two of her most trusted counsellors, who were
accused by the men of Ghent of treacherous correspondence with their
wily enemy, Louis XI, and--in spite of her entreaties and tears in
their behalf in the Marché de Vendredi--were publicly beheaded in the
first year of her brief reign.
Shortly after the untimely death of this princess whose popularity
might have held the communes in check, her husband, Maximilian, began
the long war that finally resulted in establishing his authority over
all of Flanders. This accomplished, he established his daughter,
Margaret of Austria, as Regent and during the twenty-three years of
her wise and gentle reign the country remained for the most part at
peace and its commerce and prosperity returned.
It was during the struggle with Maximilian that the Rabot was
constructed at Ghent, in 1489. The previous year the Emperor Frederick
III, father of Maximilian, had threatened the city at this point,
where its fortifications were weakest, and the two famous pointed
towers were built as part of the protective works designed to render a
similar attack impossible. Although somewhat mutilated in 1860, the
twin towers still stand, and with the curious intervening structure
constitute one of the finest bits of military architecture of the
fifteenth century that has come down to us. Historically, they form a
monument of the victory gained by the commune over Frederick and his
son in their first attempt to curtail its liberties and privileges.
On the 24th of February of the year 1500 the city of Ghent learned
that a baby boy had been born at the Cour de Princes, to its
sovereigns, Philip the Handsome and Joanna of Spain, who was destined
to become the most powerful monarch in the world. On the day when this
fortunate baby was baptised with the name of Charles, the city gave
itself up to rejoicings that might well have been tempered had it
known the fate that was in store for it at the hands of its
illustrious son forty years later. As it was, joy reigned, and at
night ten thousand flaming torches flared, the great dragon in the
belfry spouted Greek fire, and on a rope suspended from the top of the
belfry to the spire of St. Nicholas a tight-rope dancer performed
prodigies of skill for the cheering crowds that thronged the streets
below.
Fifteen years later, when Charles was declared of age, it was at Ghent
that he was proclaimed Count of Flanders. The following year he became
King of Spain, and in 1520 Emperor; thus at the age of twenty ruling
over all the Netherlands, Germany, Austria, Northern Italy, Spain and
the vast empire in the new world--then in course of conquest by
Pizzaro, Cortés and the other Spanish conquistadores. While the
city's most famous son was advancing to the zenith of human power and
wealth, its own fortunes were steadily declining. The long contest
with Maximilian and the competition of England had struck a death blow
to the cloth industry, which languished for a time and then gradually
decayed and disappeared. The Cloth Hall was therefore left unfinished,
which accounts for its insignificance as compared with similar
structures in other Flemish towns where the textile trade was far less
important than that of Ghent in the days of its greatest prosperity.
The city continued, however, to be the centre of the grain trade as
before, and the fine façade of the Maison des Bateliers (House of the
Boatmen's Guild), on the Quai au Blé, was built at this epoch, in
1534.
[Illustration: Photograph by E. Sacré. MAISON DE LA KEURE, HOTEL DE
VILLE, GHENT.]
A still more notable structure, the Hotel de Ville, dates in part from
the time of Charles. This edifice in reality comprises a group of
buildings erected at different epochs and for diverse purposes.
Architecturally the most beautiful of these is the Maison de la Keure,
which forms the corner of the Marché au Beurre and the rue Haut Port,
extending for most of its length on the latter somewhat narrow street.
This was designed and built by Dominique de Waghenakere of Antwerp
and the famous Rombaut Keldermans of Malines, and was erected between
1518 and 1534. The actual edifice represents only a quarter of the
fine design of the architects and lacks an entire story with various
decorative features which would have greatly improved its appearance
and made it one of the finest Hotels de Ville in Flanders. As it is,
this part is by far the best of the entire structure. The Maison des
Parchons facing the Marché au Beurre was built in 1600 to 1620 and is
in the Italian Renaissance style and vastly inferior to the fine
Gothic structure of a century earlier. The other portion of the
building comprises a Hall for the States of Flanders, in the ruelle de
Hotel de Ville, built in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries; the
grande conciergerie joining this to the earlier Gothic Maison de la
Keure and built in 1700; and a Chambre des Pauvres built by order of
Charles V in 1531, of which the present façade dates from 1750.
The inner rooms of this collection of buildings, of different ages and
different architectural styles, are of relatively minor interest. The
Grande Salle de Justice de la Keure is somewhat imposing with its
large fireplace, but its lack of other decorations makes it rather
cold and gloomy and we were glad to leave it. Much more beautiful is
the Salle de l'Arsenal, built half a century later. In the Chapel of
St. John the Baptist, which adjoins the Salle de Justice in the most
ancient part of the edifice, and is now used as a Salle des Mariages,
is a fine picture representing Marie of Burgundy begging her people to
forgive Hugonet and Humbercourt, her two ministers who--despite her
tearful pleas--were executed in the Place Ste. Pharaïlde hard by.
On the death of Margaret of Austria the Emperor appointed his sister,
Marie of Hungary, Regent of the Netherlands. The steady decline of its
trade and the increasing poverty of the people caused the city of
Ghent to seethe with discontent, and in 1539 an outbreak occurred that
gave the Regent great alarm. Under the leadership of a group of
demagogues the _Métiers_ or lower associations of artisans, overawed
the magistrates and seized Liévin Pyn, an aged and honourable member
of the Council and Dean of the _Métiers_ who was unjustly accused of
giving the Queen Regent a false report on the situation and of having
stolen the great banner of the city. This unfortunate old man was
subjected to fearful tortures in the Château des Comtes, but
resolutely refused to confess to any of the acts charged against him.
Nevertheless, he was finally executed on the Place Ste. Pharaïlde--one
of the most pitiful and unjust of the many cruel tragedies enacted
there. Broken and weakened from the tortures to which he had been
subjected, he had to be carried to the place of execution, where his
indomitable spirit was such that before bowing before the axe of the
executioner he sternly reproached his judges with their cowardice, and
predicted that the people would soon have occasion to regret the
fatuous course they were pursuing.
The dying old man spoke the truth. The Emperor was then in Spain and
matters connected with the government of his world-encircling realm
demanded for the moment his attention, but he was none the less kept
well informed as to what was going on in his native city, where
affairs meanwhile progressed from bad to worse, until a veritable
state of anarchy prevailed. When Charles learned of the virtual
insurrection against his authority that prevailed, and of the death of
Liévin Pyn, he was furious and vowed to inflict upon the rebellious
city a vengeance that would deter all other cities in the empire from
ever following its example. Slowly, but with a deliberateness that
boded ill for the foolhardy rabble who for the moment guided the
destinies of the commune, the Emperor made his preparations for a trip
to the Low Countries. Two months after the execution of Pyn it became
known in the city that their puissant sovereign was on his way. The
news filled the mutineers with terror. No longer was Ghent in the
proud position she had occupied under the Counts of Flanders and the
first Dukes of Burgundy--the premier city of the realm and a foe to be
respected and even feared. The power of Charles V was too vast for
even the most ignorant to think of armed resistance to his authority,
now that he was about to assert it in person. Many of those
responsible for the period of anarchy fled, others went into hiding.
Early in the year 1540 the Emperor arrived at Cambrai, proceeding next
to Valenciennes and Brussels. Meanwhile a strong force of German
soldiers entered the city--meeting with no resistance from its now
thoroughly terrified inhabitants, many of whom no doubt wished they
could restore the dead Doyen des Métiers, whom they had so cruelly
sacrificed, to life again that he might plead their cause with the
dreaded Emperor. They had good reason to tremble, for in a few days
the ring-leaders of the late troubles began to be arrested and all men
were forbidden, under penalty of death, to harbour them or aid them to
escape their sovereign's wrath. A few days later nine of the mutineers
were executed on the Place Ste. Pharaïlde where Liévin Pyn had
perished at their hands six months before. The magistrates were now
filled with terror and abjectly pleaded for mercy. The Emperor
haughtily replied that he knew how to be merciful and also how to do
justice, and that he would presently give judgment on the city "in
such a manner that it would never be forgotten and others would take
therefrom an example."
This disquieting response was followed by the Emperor's famous visit
to the top of the cathedral tower in company with the Duke of Alva. It
was on this occasion that the latter, with the ferocity that
afterwards made his name a by-word for cruelty for future ages,
counselled his sovereign to utterly destroy the rebellious city. To
this the Emperor responded with the _bon mot_ that showed at once his
sense of humour and his moderation. Pointing to the wide-spreading red
roofs of the populous city he asked, "How many Spanish skins do you
think it would take to make a glove (_Gand_, the French spelling of
Ghent, also means glove) as large as this?"
[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF THE DUKE OF ALVA BY A. MORO.]
Meanwhile, under the direct supervision of the Emperor, a huge citadel
began to be erected on the site of the ancient little town surrounding
the Abbey of St. Bavon--a choice that involved the destruction of many
of the Abbey buildings. The Emperor, while this work was going on,
remained at the Princenhof where he held his court, but gave no sign
as to what the fate of the city was to be. It was not until April
29th, 1540, that he finally--in the presence of a great throng of
princes, nobles and the members of his Grand Council, with the city
magistrates on their knees at his feet--gave his long delayed
decision. In a loud voice the Imperial herald first read a list of
thirty-five crimes committed by the people of the city, declaring them
guilty of _dèsléalté_, _désobéyssance_, _infraction de traictés_,
_sedition_, _rébellion et de léze-magesté_. In consequence of these
crimes the sentence deprived them forever of their privileges, rights,
and franchises. It directed that the charters, together with the red
and black books in which they were registered, should be turned over
to the Emperor to do with them as he pleased, and it was forbidden
ever again to invoke or appeal to them. It pronounced the
confiscation of all the goods, rents, revenues, houses, artillery and
war material belonging to the city or to the _Métiers_. It confiscated
the great bell Roland and decreed that it must be taken down. It
further directed that three days later the magistrates, thirty members
of the bourgeois or middle class, the Doyen of the weavers, six men
from each _Métier_ and fifty "creesers" should beg pardon of the
Emperor and Queen. The suppliants on this occasion were dressed in
black, with heads and feet bare, and cords about their necks, and were
compelled to beg the pardon of the Emperor on their knees in the
market-place. Besides this public degradation the magistrates were
required to wear the cords about their necks thereafter during the
exercise of their functions. It is said, however, that before very
long the hemp was converted into a rich cord of gold and silk, which
they wore as a scarf--as if it were a badge of honour instead of one
of disgrace.
The walls of the city were to be still further demolished, and the
sovereign reserved the right to specify later which towers, gates and
walls should be torn down to erect the citadel. Finally, a heavy money
indemnity was exacted, and the following day a new code of laws in
sixty-five articles was promulgated--the famous Concession
Caroline--which served as the basis of government until the end of the
old régime during the French Revolution. The city, no doubt, breathed
a sigh of relief that the Emperor exacted no further toll of human
life, but the conditions were none the less heavy enough. In brief,
these terms ended, once and for all, every vestige of self-government,
and swept away all of the privileges for which the burghers had fought
for so many centuries. The year 1540 marks the end, therefore, of the
long and brilliant history of the Flemish communes--for no other city
dared resist the Emperor's authority after this--and thereafter
Flanders became a mere province in the wide dominions of sovereigns
who seldom visited its cities and frequently did not even speak the
language of its people.
Among the tombstones in the Cathedral of St. Bavon one that deserves
more than a passing glance is that of Bishop Triest. Designed by the
celebrated sculptor, Jerome Duquesnoy, it is a notable example of
Flemish sculpture, besides possessing an added interest by reason of
the fact that the artist sought to destroy it when complete. More
important, however, than the monument and its story is the fact that
Bishop Triest was the father of the art of horticulture for which
Ghent is so renowned today. It was in his gardens--which were famous
throughout the seventeenth century--that rare and exotic plants were
for the first time planted out of doors in Flanders and trained to
grow in the form of pyramids, arches, summer-houses, and a hundred
fantastic shapes. The "Belvedere Gardens" of the worthy prelate became
the model for other gardeners, and the seed, planted in fertile soil,
from which sprang a great industry.
Not content with cultivating his own gardens the Bishop sought to
encourage in every way the humble gardeners of the city, giving them
his august protection, his friendly counsel, making loans to the
needy, and uniting them into a society under the patronage of St.
Amand and Ste. Dorothy. This noble example was speedily followed by
the city, which also encouraged the horticulturists. In 1640 William
de Blasère, an alderman of the city, constructed the first hothouse
ever seen in Europe. It was a hundred feet long, made of wood and
glass, heated with huge stoves, and sufficiently high to accommodate
the exotic plants that, in summertime, were set outdoors. This novelty
made a great stir and brought many visitors to Ghent. Soon afterward a
society of horticulturists was founded, and by the end of the century
a botanical garden was established.
In the opening years of the nineteenth century this institution very
nearly came to an end. It was costly to keep up, produced little or no
revenue, and Napoleon, who was then First Consul and included Ghent in
his rapidly widening dominions, decided that it should be suppressed.
A friend of the garden skilfully took advantage of a visit of
Josephine to Ghent to enlist her aid in persuading her husband to
spare it. Inviting the future empress to visit the establishment, he
contrived that the plants and flowers should plead their own cause.
Between two palms at the entrance he had a huge placard suspended
bearing the words: "_Ave, Cæsar, morituri te salutamus_." Then, along
the different walks, each flower and plant bore a card proportionate
to its size and containing a verse alluding to its approaching
destruction. Naturally surprised at this outburst of poetry on the
part of the "nymphs" of the garden, as the flowers styled themselves
in their effusions, Josephine inquired the reason for it. This gave
her conductor his opportunity, and he pleaded for the preservation of
the garden with such ardour and eloquence that he won her assurance
that if her wishes had any weight his beautiful garden should be
preserved and its "nymphs" should not perish in exile. The event
proved that he had secured a powerful ally, for the edict of the First
Consul was rescinded and the garden was saved.
To-day Ghent boasts of her title of "the City of Flowers." The
Botanical Garden is protected by a Royal Society, there are many
private collections that are worth going far to see, and more than
five hundred establishments, large and small, are engaged in
horticulture as an industry, the annual exports amounting to millions
of dollars. Bishop Triest can therefore be thanked for giving Flanders
one of its great industries.
Speaking of Napoleon, it is not generally remembered that Ghent was,
for the brief space of one hundred days, the capital of France. When
Napoleon returned from Elba, and was received with open arms by the
very troops sent to attack him, Louis XVIII fled incontinently to
Ghent where he set up a feeble court at his residence on the rue des
Champs. Here Guizot, Chateaubriand, and his other ministers met
formally every morning to discuss with His Majesty the chances of his
ever getting back to Paris again--Paris where, by the way, the mob was
singing mockingly:
"Rendez nous notre père de Gand
Rendez nous notre père!"
It would take a satirist like Dickens or Thackeray to describe the
scene when the fat monarch sat down to his mid-day meal, in the
presence of whoever might wish to watch the curious spectacle. He
conquered enormous quantities of food, but depended on Wellington and
Blücher to conquer the army of Napoleon. The forms of sovereignty were
none the less carefully observed, as the little court waited day by
day for the great event that all men could see was drawing steadily
nearer. At last, as the thunder of Napoleon's guns startled the allies
from their dance at Brussels, and the tramp of his advancing squadrons
shook the fields of Waterloo, this fat little fly on the chariot wheel
of European politics prepared once more for flight. Coaches were made
ready to carry the entire court to Ostende, where an English vessel
awaited them if the battle went against the allies. All day long the
horses stood in the courtyard, the drivers whip in hand. History does
not record what gastronomic feats His Majesty performed that day, but
late at night the tidings came that the Grande Armée was in retreat,
and that King Louis could return to his kingdom.
Ghent shares with Bruges the glory of being the birthplace of Flemish
painting. The famous "Adoration of the Lamb," by the brothers Van
Eyck, was ordered by a wealthy burgher of Ghent for the cathedral of
St. Bavon--where the greater part of the original work still rests. It
was at Ghent that Hubert, the elder brother, planned the masterpiece
and completed his share of it. But Ghent also had masters belonging to
the early Flemish school whose fame she does not have to share with
any other city. One of these was Josse or Justus, usually called
Justus of Ghent, who visited Italy in 1468 and there painted several
pictures. Another was Hugo Van der Goes who gave promise of becoming
as great a master as Jean Van Eyck when he suddenly gave up his chosen
profession and entered the Monastery of Rouge-Cloitre, near Bruges. He
was admitted to the Guild of Painters at Ghent in 1467, and left the
world of action in 1476--eventually becoming insane and dying six
years later. There is a story to the effect that he once painted a
picture of Abigail meeting David for a burgher of Ghent who lived in a
house near the bridge called the Muyderbrugge, and while engaged on
this work--which was painted on the wall above a fireplace--fell in
love with his patron's daughter. The painting proved a great success,
but the stern parents frowned on the suit of the young artist, and the
daughter, in despair, entered the convent of the White Ladies known as
the Porta Coeli, near Brussels. The house, which was said to have been
entirely surrounded by water, has long since disappeared, together
with the painting, but the story may be the explanation for the
abandonment by the artist of a promising career when he was still in
the prime of life. One of the finest pictures in the Modern Gallery at
Brussels is that by E. Wauters representing the madness of Van der
Goes. The painter is shown seated and staring eagerly at some phantasm
before him--perhaps a vision of the fair Abigail--while a group of
little choir boys are striving, under the leadership of a monk, to
exorcise the evil demon that possesses their famous brother by means
of sacred songs and chants. It is said that this method of cure was
indeed attempted while he was at Rouge-Cloitre, but without success.
The best work of both of these artists is, unfortunately, far from
Flanders--being found in Italy, where Flemish painters were in their
day very highly regarded. "The Last Supper," which was the greatest
masterpiece of Justus, was painted as an altarpiece for the
brotherhood of Corpus Christi at Urbino and still hangs in the church
of Sant' Agatha in that Italian town. "The Adoration of the
Shepherds," which was the greatest work of Van der Goes, is in the
Uffizi Gallery at Florence. At Bruges there are two paintings
attributed to this master, "The Death of the Virgin," in the museum,
and the panel representing the donors in "The Martyrdom of St.
Hippolytus" in the church of St. Sauveur. The greater part of the
paintings by Van der Goes in Belgium were destroyed by the iconoclasts
in the sixteenth century, including several of which his
contemporaries and other early writers spoke in the highest terms.
Frequent mention is made of his skill as a portrait painter, and Prof.
A. J. Wauters, after a careful study of his known works throughout
Europe, ascribes to him the famous portrait of Charles the Bold in the
museum at Brussels. The early writers state that private houses at
Bruges and Ghent, as well as churches, were filled with his works. Let
us hope that some of these--hidden away during the religious wars or
at the time of the iconoclasts--may yet be discovered and identified.
Ghent, during the fifteenth century, was the artistic centre of
Flanders, and the names, but not the works, of many of its painters
have come down to us. One of the most celebrated of these in
contemporary annals was Gerard Van der Meire, to whom tradition has
assigned the triptych of "The Crucifixion" in the cathedral of St.
Bavon. This artist rose to high rank in the Guild of St. Luke, to
which he was admitted in 1452, and a considerable number of paintings
in various European galleries are attributed to him. An Italian writer
ascribes to him one hundred and twenty-five of the exquisite
miniatures in the famous Grimani Breviary, now in the library of St.
Mark's at Venice. If this were true, Van der Meire was indeed a great
artist, but this book was illustrated after his death.
[Illustration: "THE ADORATION OF THE SHEPHERDS."--HUGO VAN DER GOES.]
According to the Royal Commission of Art and Archeology of Belgium,
Ghent contains more noteworthy antiquities than any other town in the
Kingdom. The Commission, it appears, divides the "antiquities" into
three classes, according to their relative importance, and credits
Ghent with thirteen of the first class, ten of the second and six of
the third--or twenty-nine in all. The figures for the other Flemish
cities are: Antwerp, seven first, five second, six third, total
eighteen; Bruges, four first, six second, six third, total sixteen;
Tournai, three first, six second, six third, total fifteen; Malines,
four first, eight second, two third, total fourteen. Many places are
credited with two or three each. We tried to get a copy of the Report
of the Commission giving the names of the antiquities in each class,
and the reasons for ranking them, but were unable to do so during our
stay in Belgium. It would have been a learned check on the list of
places we had found most interesting. Quite likely we would have found
that the Commission gave the first rank to some "antiquity" we did not
see at all, and maybe never heard of! However, we saw enough to occupy
every minute of our brief vacation, and the majority of those we
missed--wilfully at least--were churches, of which Flanders has enough
to fill three books like this were one to faithfully report them all.
In Ghent there are, as at Bruges, many interesting private houses
scattered throughout the city. The Professor and I on our morning
walks looked up many of these, but the list would be tedious to
enumerate. One of the most famous is the "Arriére-Faucille," formerly
the home of a rich seigneur, but since 1901 used as a Royal
Conservatory of Music. Its castle-like tower is very picturesque, but
we saw nothing of interest in the interior. Near by are two very old
houses with typically Flemish gables, called the Zwarte Moor and
the Groot Moor. Built in 1481, or thereabouts, the Confrerie of St.
George had its headquarters here for many years.
[Illustration: OLD GUILD HOUSES, QUAI AUX HERBES, GHENT.]
The guilds have already been mentioned, and the façades of all of the
more famous of the guild houses have been carefully restored. These
include the Maison des Mesureurs de Blé and the Maison des Francs
Bateliers on the Quai aux Herbes, the Maison des Maçons and the Maison
des Bateliers non francs. The ancient Grand Boucherie, recently
restored, is another interesting "monument." It seems that the
Butchers' Guild at Ghent owed its prosperity to the fact that Charles
V chanced one day to fall in love with the pretty daughter of a Ghent
butcher. This young lady obtained for her son and his descendants an
imperial monopoly of the slaughtering and meat-selling business which
survived all the various dynastic changes till the French Revolution.
The butchers were called _Prinse Kinderen_, or Prince's Children, and
seem to have made a very good thing out of the blot on their family
escutcheon. Another old edifice is the Maison de l'Etape, or Staple
House, a granary dating from the thirteenth century, which stands
beside the guild houses on the Quai aux Herbes. In short, the tourist
can easily find enough of interest in this rare old Flemish city to
occupy many days of leisurely sight-seeing. Ghent, like Bruges, has
thus far been spared the destruction that has overtaken so many of the
smaller Flemish towns during the war and, as far as is at present
known, all of its twenty-nine monuments are still intact.