[Illustration: 0031]
Everything was fresh and clean from the late rains, and the air was
laden with the mingled perfume of flowers; with butter and cheese.
Country carts of extravagant design and painted green were unloading,
and the farmer's boys were fitting together the booths for the sale of
their varied commodities. Here and there were active dark complexioned
Hebraic looking men and women, hard faced and sinister, who presided
over stalls for the sale of cloth, shoes and the trinkets of small value
calculated to tempt the peasantry. A cinematograph booth, resplendent
with gilding, mirrors, and red and white paint, towered over the canvas
covered booths, and a "merry go round," somewhat shabby by contrast,
stood near it, its motive power, a small fat horse, contentedly eating
his breakfast out of a brass hooped pail. The shops were opening one by
one, displaying agricultural tools, and useful articles desired by
the peasants. One heard bargaining going on, sometimes in the Flemish
tongue, proving how near we were to Flanders, and sometimes in
Walloon. Both tongues are used here, and the costumes partake of their
characteristics, the women in neat if coarse stuffs, and the men in
stiff blue blouses, usually in wooden shoes, too. This was remarkable,
for the wooden shoe was fast vanishing from the towns. We noted too,
that women were abandoning the snowy white lace trimmed caps once
forming such a quaint feature of market day gatherings. Now various
hideous forms of black and purple bonnets, decked out with beads and
upstanding feathers disfigured them, but with what pride they were worn!
This market place at Arras was a sight worth a long journey to witness,
if but to see the display of animals, chickens, and flowers on a bright
sunny morning in the square beneath the tower of the Town Hall. The
fowls squawked and flapped their wings; dogs barked; horses neighed; and
hoarse voiced vendors called out their bargains. Here and there the fowl
were killed on the spot for the buyer, and carried off by rosy cheeked
unsentimental housewives, carried off, too, often hidden in bunches of
bright flowers.
Did I write unsentimental?--An error. Nowhere were the common people
more given to sentiment. Does not one remember the large room that la
belle madame at the 'Couronne d'or provided for the traveling painter,
who occupied it for two weeks, and during the season too, and when he
discovered on the morning of departure that it was not included in the
bill, on pointing out the omission to madame, did she not, and with the
most charming smile imaginable say, with a wave of her shapely brown
hands--"One could not charge for a room used as M'sieur's studio.
The honor is sufficient to the 'Couronne d'or." And how to repay such
kindness?
In an hour the noise and chattering of a market morning was in full
sway. And over all sounded the great bell of the Cathedral: other
church bells joined in the clamor, and at once began an accompaniment of
clattering wooden shoes over the rough cobbles towards the church doors.
Following these people up the street, we entered the dim pillared nave
of the old church. On Sundays and market days the interior formed a
picture not to be forgotten, and one especially full of human interest.
The nave was freer of modern "improvements" than most of the churches,
and there was much quiet dignity in the service. A large number
of confessional cabinets, some of very quaint and others of most
exquisitely carved details, were set against the walls. Some of these
had heavy green baize curtains to screen them instead of doors, and some
of the cabinets were in use, for the skirt of a dress was visible below
one of the curtains. The women before the altar knelt on the rush seats
of small chairs, resting their clasped hands, holding rosaries, on the
back, furnished with a narrow shelf between the uprights. They wore dark
blue or brown stuff dresses, and small plaid shawls. We noted that not
one of these wore wooden shoes or sabots. All on the contrary wore neat
leather shoes.
The women, especially the older ones, all turned their heads and
curiously examined us as we tip-toed about, without, however,
interrupting their incessant prayers for an instant. And they did not
seem to resent our presence in the church, or regard it as an intrusion.
In the subdued colored light from the painted windows, with the clouds
of incense rising, the proportions of the columns and the lancet
arches and windows were most impressive, and together with the kneeling
peasants made a very fine effect.
While there was little to be found in Arras that was really remarkable,
for the town was given over to the traffic in grain and the townspeople
were all very commercial, there were bits of the town corners and side
streets worthy of recording. Near the dominating Town Hall were many
types of ancient Flemish gabled houses, of which we shall not find
better examples even in Flanders itself. Arras was as noisy as any
Belgian market town where soldiers are stationed. There was the passing
of heavy military carts through the ill-paved streets; the clatter of
feet; the sounds of bugle and rolling of drum at sundown. The closing
of the cafés at midnight ended the day, while at dawn in the morning the
din of arriving and passing market wagons commenced again, followed by
the workmen and women going to their daily tasks at the factories.
"Do these people never rest?" asked Lady Anne, whose morning nap was
thus rudely interrupted. Ma-dame's answer came:
"Ah, indeed, yes. But not in the summer. Mark you, in the dark short
days of winter, there is little going on in Arras. Then we are very
quiet."