This hospital is a noble and curious sight. The great hall is almost

as it was in the twelfth century; it is spanned by Saxon arches, and

lighted by a multiplicity of Gothic windows of all sizes; it is very

lofty, clean, and perfectly well ventilated; a screen runs across the

middle of the room, to divide the male from the female patients, and

we were taken to examine each ward, where the poor people seemed

happier than possibly they would have been in health and starvation

without it.

Great yellow blankets were on the iron beds, the linen was

scrupulously clean, glittering pewter-jugs and goblets stood by the

side of each patient, and they were provided with godly books (to

judge from the building), in which several were reading at leisure.

Honest old comfortable nuns, in queer dresses of blue, black, white,

and flannel, were bustling through the room, attending to the wants

of the sick. I saw about a dozen of these kind women's faces; one was

young,--all were healthy and cheerful. One came with bare blue arms

and a great pile of linen from an out-house--such a grange as Cedric

the Saxon might have given to a guest for the night. A couple were in

a laboratory, a tall, bright, clean room, 500 years old at least.

"We saw you were not very religious," said one of the old ladies, with

a red, wrinkled, good-humored face, "by your behavior yesterday in

chapel."

And yet we did not laugh and talk as we used at college, but were

profoundly affected by the scene that we saw there. It was a fête-day;

a work of Mozart was sung in the evening--not well sung, and yet so

exquisitely tender and melodious, that it brought tears into our eyes.

There were not above twenty people in the church; all, save three or

four, were women in long black cloaks. I took them for nuns at first.

They were, however, the common people of the town, very poor indeed,

doubtless, for the priest's box that was brought round was not

added to by most of them, and their contributions were but two-cent

pieces--five of these go to a penny; but we know the value of such,

and can tell the exact worth of a poor woman's mite!

The box-bearer did not seem at first willing to accept our

donation--we were strangers and heretics; however, I held out my hand,

and he came perforce as it were. Indeed it had only a franc in it; but

"que voulez vous?" I had been drinking a bottle of Rhine wine that

day, and how was I to afford more? The Rhine wine is dear in this

country, and costs four francs a bottle.

Well, the service proceeded. Twenty poor women, two Englishmen, four

ragged beggars, cowering on the steps; and there was the priest at the

altar, in a great robe of gold and damask, two little boys in white

surplices serving him, holding his robe as he rose and bowed, and the

money-gatherer swinging his censer, and filling the little chapel with

smoke.

The music pealed with wonderful sweetness; you could see the prim

white heads of the nuns in their gallery. The evening light streamed

down upon old statues of saints and carved brown stalls, and lighted

up the head of the golden-haired Magdalen in a picture of the

entombment of Christ. Over the gallery, and, as it were, a kind

protectress to the poor below, stood the statue of the Virgin.

GHENT[A]

[Footnote A: From "Cities of Belgium."]

BY GRANT ALLEN

Flanders owes everything to its water communications. At the junction

of the Schelde with the Lys and Lei, there grew up in the very early

Middle Ages a trading town, named Gent in Flemish, and Gand in French,

but commonly Anglicized as Ghent. It lay on a close network of rivers

and canals, formed partly by these two main streams, and partly by the

minor channels of the Lieve and the Moere, which together intersect it

into several islands.

Such a tangle of inland waterways, giving access to the sea and to

Bruges, Courtrai, and Tournai, as well as less directly to Antwerp

and Brussels, ensured the rising town in early times considerable

importance. It formed the center of a radiating commerce. Westward,

its main relations were with London and English wool ports; eastward

with Cologne, Maastricht, the Rhine towns, and Italy.

Ghent was always the capital of East Flanders, as Bruges or Ypres were

of the Western province; and after the Counts lost possession of

Arras and Artois, it became in the thirteenth century their principal

residence and the metropolis of the country....

Early in the fourteenth century, the burghers of Ghent, under their

democratic chief, Jacob or Jacques Van Artevelde, attained practical

independence. Till 1322, the counts and people of Flanders had been

united in their resistance to the claims of France; but with the

accession of Count Louis of Nevers, the aspect of affairs changed.

Louis was French by education, sympathies, and interests, and

artistocratic by nature; he sought to curtail the liberties of the

Flemish towns, and to make himself despotic. The wealthy and populous

burgher republics resisted and in 1337 Van Artevelde was appointed

Captain of Ghent. Louis fled to France and asked the aid of Philip of

Valois.

Thereupon, Van Artevelde made himself the ally of Edward III. of

England, then beginning his war with France; but as the Flemings did

not like entirely to cast off their allegiance--a thing repugnant to

medieval sentiment--Van Artevelde persuaded Edward to put forward his

trumped-up claim to the crown of France, and thus induced the towns

to transfer their fealty from Philip to his English rival. It was

therefore in his character as King of France that Edward came to

Flanders. The alliance thus formed between the great producer of raw

wool, England, and the great manufacturer of woolen goods, Ghent,

proved of immense importance to both parties.

But as Count Louis sided with Philip of Valois, the breach between the

democracy of Ghent and its nominal soverign now became impassable. Van

Artevelde held supreme power in Ghent and Flanders for nine years--the

golden age of Flemish commerce--and was treated on equal terms by

Edward, who stopt at Ghent as his guest for considerable periods. But

he was opposed by a portion of the citizens, and his suggestion that

the Black Prince, son of Edward III., should be elected Count

of Flanders, proved so unpopular with his enemies that he was

assassinated by one of them, Gerald Denys. The town and states

immediately repudiated the murder; and the alliance which Van

Artevelde had brought about still continued. It had far-reaching

results; the woolen industry was introduced by Edward into the Eastern

Counties of England, and Ghent had risen meanwhile to be the chief

manufacturing city of Europe.

The quarrel between the democratic weavers and their exiled counts

was still carried on by Philip van Artevelde, the son of Jacques, and

godson of Queen Philippa of England, herself a Hainaulter. Under his

rule, the town continued to increase in wealth and population. But

the general tendency of later medieval Europe toward centralized

despotisms as against urban republics was too strong in the end for

free Ghent. In 1381, Philip was appointed dictator by the democratic

party, in the war against the Count, son of his father's opponent,

whom he repelled with great slaughter in a battle near Bruges.

He then made himself Regent of Flanders. But Count Louis obtained

the aid of Charles VI. of France, and defeated and killed Philip van

Artevelde at the disastrous battle of Roosebeke in 1382. That was

practically the end of local freedom in Flanders. Tho the cities

continued to revolt against their sovereigns from time to time, they

were obliged to submit for the most part to their Count and to the

Burgundian princes who inherited from him by marriage.

The subsequent history of Ghent is that of the capital of the

Burgundian Dukes, and of the House of Austria. Here the German king,

Maximilian, afterward Emperor, married Mary of Burgundy, the heiress

of the Netherlands; and here Charles V. was born in the palace of

the Counts. It was his principal residence, and he was essentially a

Fleming....

The real interest of the Cathedral centers, not in St. Bavon, nor in

his picture by Rubens, but in the great polyptych of the Adoration

of the Lamb, the masterpiece of Jan van Eyck and his brother Hubert,

which forms in a certain sense the point of departure for the native

art of the Netherlands....

Stand before the west front at a little distance, to examine the

simple but massive architecture of the tower and façade. The great

portal has been robbed of the statues which once adorned its niches.

Three have been "restored"; they represent, center, the Savior; at the

left, the patron, St. Bavon, recognizable by his falcon, his sword as

duke, and his book as monk; he wears armor, with a ducal robe and cap

above it; at the right, St. John the Baptist, the earlier patron.

Then, walk to the right, round the south side, to observe the external

architecture of the nave, aisles and choir. The latter has the

characteristic rounded or apsidal termination of Continental Gothic,

whereas English Gothic usually has a square end. Enter by the south

portal.

The interior, with single aisles and short transepts (Early Gothic)

is striking for its simple dignity, its massive pillars, and its high

arches, tho the undeniably noble effect of the whole is somewhat

marred to English eyes by the unusual appearance of the unadorned

brick walls and vaulting. The pulpit, by Delvaux (1745), partly in

oak, partly in marble, represents Truth revealing the Christian Faith

to astonished Paganism, figured as an old and outworn man. It is a

model of all that should be avoided in plastic or religious art.

The screen which separates the choir from the transepts is equally

unfortunate. The apsidal end of the Choir, however, with its fine

modern stained glass, forms a very pleasing feature in the general

coup d'oeil....

The sixth chapel (of the Vydts family) contains the famous altar piece

of the Adoration of the Lamb, by Hubert and Jan van Eyck, to study

which is the chief object of a visit to Ghent. See it more than once,

and examine it carefully. Ask the sacristan to let you sit before it

for some time in quiet or he will hurry you on. You must observe it in

close detail. Taking it in its entirety, then, the altar-piece, when

opened, is a great mystical poem of the Eucharist and the Sacrifice of

the Lamb, with the Christian folk, both Church and World, adoring. The

composition contains over 200 figures. Many of them, which I have

not here identified, can be detected by a closer inspection, which,

however, I will leave to the reader.

Now, ask the sacristan to shut the wings. They are painted on the

outer side (all a copy) mainly in grisaille, or in very low tones

of color, as is usual in such cases, so as to allow the jewel-like

brilliancy of the internal picture to burst upon the observer the

moment the altar-piece is opened.

Old Ghent occupied for the most part the island which extends from the

Palais de Justice on one side to the Botanical Gardens on the other.

This island, bounded by the Lys, the Schelde, and an ancient canal,

includes almost all the principal buildings of the town, such as the

Cathedral, St. Nicholas, the Hôtel-dé-Ville, the Belfry, and St.

Jacques, as well as the chief Places, such as the Marché aux Grains,

the Marché aux Herbes, and the Marché du Vendredi. It also extends

beyond the Lys to the little island on which is situated the church of

St. Michael, and again to the islet formed between the Lieve and the

Lys, which contains the château of the Counts and the Palace Ste.

Pharailde.

In the later middle ages, however, the town had spread to nearly its

existing extreme dimensions, and was probably more populous than at

the present moment. But its ancient fortifications have been destroyed

and their place has been taken by boulevards and canals. The line

may still be traced on the map, or walked round through a series of

shipping suburbs; but it is uninteresting to follow, a great part of

its course lying through the more squalid portions of the town.

The only remaining gate is that known as the Rabot (1489), a very

interesting and picturesque object situated in a particularly slummy

quarter.

Bruges is full of memories of the Burgundian Princes. At Ghent it is

the personality of Charles V., the great emperor who cumulated in his

own person the sovereignties of Germany, the Low Countries, Spain and

Burgundy, that meets us afresh at every turn. He was born here in 1500

and baptized in a font, otherwise uninteresting, which still stands in

the north transept of the Cathedral. Ghent was really, for the greater

part of his life, his practical capital, and he never ceased to be at

heart a Ghenter.

That did not prevent the citizens from unjustly rebelling against him

in 1540, after the suppression of which revolt Charles is said to have

ascended the cathedral tower, while the executioner was putting to

death the ringleaders in the rebellion, in order to choose with his

brother Ferdinand the site for the citadel he intended to erect, to

overawe the freedom loving city. He chose the Monastery of St. Bavon

as its site, and, as we have seen, built there his colossal fortress,

now wholly demolished. The palace in which he was born and which he

inhabited frequently during life, was known as the Cour du Prince. It

stood near the Ancient Grand Béguinage, but only its name now survives

in that of a street.

BRUSSELS[A]

[Footnote A: From "The Belgians at Home." Published by Little, Brown &

Co.]

BY CLIVE HOLLAND

The great commercial and material prosperity of the place dates from

the commencement of the rule of the House of Burgundy. It was then,

in the fifteenth century, that the most beautiful of its many fine

buildings were erected. The Church of St. Michael and St. Gudule has

its great nave and towers dating from this period; the Hôtel de Ville,

Notre Dame du Sablon, the Nassau Palace, the Palace of the Dukes of

Brabant, and many other buildings were commenced then. Manufactures

and commerce commenced to flourish, while the liberties of the

municipality were extended considerably.

It was undoubtedly under the rule of Charles V. that Brussels reached

its zenith of ancient prosperity. Then, with the era of Philip II. of

Spain, came a long period of bloodshed, persecution, and misery. The

religious disputes and troubles afflicting the Netherlands had their

effect upon the life, prosperity, and happiness of the Bruxellois. The

whole country was running with blood, and ruin stalked through the

land. But during this tragic period of Netherlands' history Brussels

saw several glorious events, and did as a city more than one noble

deed. It was in Brussels that the compromise of the nobles took place,

after which those who were rebelling against the cruelties of the

Inquisition were given the name of "Gueux," which had been bestowed

upon them contemptuously by the Comte de Barlaimont.... It was

Brussels which led the revolt against the most bloodthirsty of the

rulers sent to the Netherlands by Spain, the Duke of Alva, and

successfully resisted the imposition of the notorious "twentieth

denier" tax which it was sought to impose upon it, a tax which led

ultimately to the revolt of the whole of the Belgian provinces.

Certainly this ancient capital of the Province of Brabant, containing

nowadays with its suburbs a population of upward of 600,000, which has

quadrupled in sixty years, has come to take its place among the most

beautiful and charming capital cities of Europe. It is undoubtedly

healthy, and there is an engaging air about Brussels which soon

impresses itself upon the foreign visitor. Added to all its many

attractions of interesting museums--the homes of wonderful and in

some cases unrivaled collections of works of art--and of historical

associations with the past, it possesses the charm of being modern in

the best sense and of being a place where one may find much that is

finest in art and music. As a home of fashion it bids fair some day

to rival Paris herself, and the shops of the Montagne de la Cour,

Boulevard Anspach, and contiguous streets are scarcely less luxurious

or exclusive than those of the Rue de la Paix or Boulevard des

Italiens in the French capital. Brussels is a city of shady

boulevards, open spaces, and pleasant parks as is Paris; and the

beautiful Bois de la Cambre on its outskirts compares very favorably

with the world-renowned Bois de Boulogne as regards rural charm and

picturesqueness.

One impression that Brussels is almost certain to make upon the

visitor is its compactness. Its population, including the outskirts,

is nowadays rather over 600,000; but it is almost impossible to

realize that nearly one-eleventh of the whole population of Belgium

is concentrated in this one city, or, as might be said, in Greater

Brussels. Perhaps the real reason of this apparent lack of size

is because there are in reality two cities, Brussels interior and

Brussels exterior. The one with a population of about 225,000; the

latter with one of about 375,000. It is with the former, of course,

that the tourist and casual visitor are chiefly concerned.

The outlying suburbs are, however, connected with the city proper by a

splendid system of steam, electric, and other trams. In fact, it may

be said that Brussels is in a sense surrounded by a group of small

towns, which tho forming part of the great city are yet independent,

and are governed very much like the various boroughs which make up

Greater London, Curhegem, St. Gilles, Ixelles, St. Josse, Ten Noodle,

Molenbeek, St. Jean, and Schaerbeek, still further out, are all in a

sense separate towns, seldom visited by, and indeed almost unknown to

the tourist.

The most fashionable quarters for residences of the wealthy classes

are the broad and beautiful Avenue Louise and the streets and avenues

of the Quartier Leopold. They in a sense correspond to the Avenue du

Bois de Boulogne, Avenue des Champs Élysées, and Boulevard St. Germain

of Paris. There is another feature, too, that modern Brussels has in

common with Paris of the immediate past and of to-day. It is being

"Haussmannized," and the older and more quaint and interesting

portions of the city, as has been and is the case in Paris, are

gradually but surely disappearing to make way for the onward march of

progress and expansion. Almost on every hand, and especially in the

Porte de Namur Quarter, old buildings are constantly falling victims

to the house-wrecker, and new, in the shape of handsome mansions and

lofty blocks of flats, are arising from their ashes.

The last thirty--even twenty--years have seen many changes. During

that period the sluggish little River Senne, which once meandered

through the city, and upon whose banks stood many fine and picturesque

old houses and buildings of past ages, has been arched over, and the

fine Boulevard of the same name, and those of Hainaut and Anspach,

have been built above its imprisoned waters. The higher portions of

the city are undeniably healthy, and the climate of Brussels is less

subject to extreme changes than that of Paris. It is not unbearably

cold in winter, and tho hot in summer, is not so, we think, airless

as either Paris or London, a fact accounted for by reason of its many

open spaces, its height above sea-level, and comparative nearness to

the North Sea.

Of its fine buildings, none excels the Hôtel de Ville, which is

certainly one of the most interesting and beautiful buildings of its

kind in Belgium. It is well placed on one of the finest medieval

squares in Europe, and is surrounded by quaint and historic houses. On

this Grande Place many tragedies have from time to time been enacted,

and some of the most ferocious acts of the inhuman Alva performed.

In the spring of the terrible year, 1568, no less than twenty-five

Flemish nobles were executed here, and in the June of the same year

the patriots Lamoral, Count Egmont, Philip de Montmorency, and Count

Hoorn were put to death. This atrocious deed is commemorated by a

fountain with statues of the heroes, placed in front of the Maison

du Roi, from a window of which the Duke of Alva watched his orders

carried out.

This most beautiful Hôtel de Ville, with its late Gothic façade

approaching the Renaissance period, nearly 200 feet in length, was

commenced, according to a well-known authority, either in 1401 or

1402, the eastern wing, or left-hand portion as one faces it across

the Place, having been the first part to be commenced, the western

half of the façade not having been begun until 1444. The later

additions formed the quadrangle.

The Cathedral at Brussels is dedicated jointly to Ste. Gudule and St.

Michael. The former is one of the luckiest saints in that respect, as

probably but for this dedication, she would have remained among the

many rather obscure saints of the early periods of Christianity.

It is to this church that most visitors to Brussels first wend their

way after visiting the Grande Place and its delightful Flower Market,

which is gay with blossoms on most days of the week all the year

round. The natural situation of the church is a fine one, which was

made the most of by its architects and builders of long ago. Standing,

as it does, on the side of a hill reached from the Grande Place by the

fine Rue de la Montagne and short, steep Rue Ste. Gudule, it overlooks

the city with its two fine twin western towers dominating the

neighboring streets. These towers have appeared to us when viewed up

the Rue Ste. Gudule and other streets leading up from the lower town

to the church, generally to be veiled by a mystic gray or ambient

haze, and to gain much in impressiveness and grandeur from the coup

d'oeil one obtains of them framed, as it were, in the end of the

rising street.

WATERLOO[A]

[Footnote A: From "Les Miserables." Translated by Lascelles Wraxall.]

BY VICTOR HUGO

The battle of Waterloo is an enigma as obscure for those who gained

it as for him who lost it. To Napoleon it is a panic; Blücher sees

nothing in it but fire; Wellington does not understand it at all.

Look at the reports; the bulletins are confused; the commentaries are

entangled; the latter stammer, the former stutter.

Jomini divides the battle of Waterloo into four moments; Muffing cuts

it into three acts; Charras, altho we do not entirely agree with him

in all his appreciations, has alone caught with his haughty eye

the characteristic lineaments of this catastrophe of human genius

contending with divine chance. All the other historians suffer from a

certain bedazzlement in which they grope about. It was a flashing day,

in truth the overthrow of the military monarchy which, to the great

stupor of the kings, has dragged down all kingdoms, the downfall of

strength and the rout of war....

Seeing Europe with Famous Authors, Volume 4 France and the Netherlands, Part 2 · 第 7 / 12 段