[Ill.u.s.tration: SHRINE OF ST. URSULA, HOSPITAL OF ST. JEAN, BRUGES.]

This fact is said to have served them in good stead on the terrible day when the bandit-soldiery of the French Republic clamoured at the doors of the hospital in 1494. "The shrine! the shrine!" they cried, "give us the shrine!" ("_La cha.s.se, la cha.s.se, donnez nous la cha.s.se!_") The nuns, who had never heard it called by that name, but knew it only by its Flemish name of _Ryve_, replied that they did not possess such a thing as a _cha.s.se_, and their voices and expressions so clearly showed their truthfulness and innocence of any deceit that the rabble of soldiers went away and the shrine was saved. Early in the nineteenth century the Mother Superior refused a most tempting offer to purchase the shrine, replying, "We are poor, but the greatest riches in the world would not tempt us to part with it."

While the paintings on the shrine are the most famous of Memling's works, they are not regarded by the critics as being his best. As Mr.

Rooses expresses it, "The artist seems to have been less intent on perfection of detail for each figure than on the marvellous polychromy of the whole." The hospital of St. Jean possesses three of the master's greatest works--two triptychs ent.i.tled "The Marriage of St.

Catherine" and "The Adoration of the Magi," and the diptych representing the Madonna and Martin Van Nieuwenhove. The museum at Bruges contains still another masterpiece, a picture showing in the centre St. Christopher, St. Maurus and St. Giles--the first bearing the Infant Christ upon his shoulders--while the two shutters contain the usual portraits of the donors. One of Memling's most important works was a picture of "The Last Judgment" which was painted for an Italian, Jacopo Tani, and placed on board ship to be sent to Florence by sea. The ship was captured by privateers in the English Channel, and as its owners were citizens of Dantzig it was presented by them to the Church of Our Lady in that city, where it still remains. There are several admirable works by this master at the museums of Brussels and Antwerp, while others are scattered throughout Europe, and one particularly fine example of his art was brought to America by the late Benjamin Altman and now hangs in the Altman collection at the Metropolitan Museum at New York.

While the chief interest to the visitor at the hospital of St. Jean is the remarkable collection of works by Memling, the old buildings themselves merit more than a casual glance. Some of them date from the twelfth century, and the view looking back at the ancient waterfront from the bridge by which the rue St. Catherine here crosses the river is particularly picturesque. The old brick structures go down to the very water's edge, and sometimes below it, and the entire pile from this side must look much as it did in Memling's day.

Another artist whose work sheds l.u.s.tre on the old town of Bruges was Gheerhardt David. For nearly four centuries his name and even his very existence were forgotten, his paintings being attributed to Memling--in itself a high evidence of their merit. Recent studies by James Weale and other scholars have given us quite a complete life of this artist, who lived between 1460 and 1523, and a number of his works have been identified. All of these seem to have been painted at Bruges, and some of the more notable ones still remain there. The munic.i.p.al authorities commissioned him to paint two great pictures representing notable examples of justice such as Van der Weyden had done for the Hotel de Ville at Brussels. These depict the flaying alive of the unjust Judge Sisamnes by Cambyses, King of Persia, and are still preserved in the museum at Bruges. The museum also possesses another masterpiece by this artist, "The Baptism of Christ." Others that have been identified through painstaking study of the old archives of the city and contemporary sources are located in the National Gallery at London and in the museum of Rouen.

The prosperity of Bruges was declining very fast while David was painting the last of his religious pictures and the merchants were steadily leaving the city for Antwerp, which was now rising into importance. The artists, whose prosperity depended upon the wealth of the burghers were also drifting to the new commercial metropolis on the Scheldt and the famous school of Bruges was near its end by the middle of the sixteenth century. The last artists who worked at Bruges were of minor interest. Adriaen Ysenbrant, Albert Cornelis and Jean Prevost belong to this period, and their most important works are still preserved in the city where they were executed. "The Virgin of the Seven Sorrows," in the church of Notre Dame, is attributed to the first, a triptych in the church of St. Jacques to the second, while the museum has several pictures by Prevost, including an interesting "Last Judgment," and another striking representation of the same subject by Pieter Pourbus, of which there is a copy in the Palais du Franc. The masterpieces by Jean Van Eyck in this museum have already been mentioned, and the small but exceedingly rich collection also includes a fine production ent.i.tled "The Death of the Virgin," which is now generally attributed to Hugo Van der Goes--one of the comparatively few works by that master that have come down to us.

There are also several other works by P. Pourbus, and a powerful allegorical picture by Jean Prevost representing Avarice and Death.

There is undoubtedly no collection of paintings in the world of which the average value is so great as that of the little group in the hospital of St. Jean, and the one in the Bruges museum--while it has quite a few of minor interest and value--would also bring a very high average if subjected to the bidding of the world's millionaire art lovers.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _An Illumination by Gheerhardt David of Bruges, 1498; St. Barbara_]

Bruges possesses another museum of great interest which dates from the days of the last Dukes of Burgundy. This is the Gruuthuise mansion, of which the oldest wing was built in 1420, and much of the finer portion about 1470 by Louis, or Lodewyk, Van der Gruuthuise, who here entertained Charles the Bold and his pretty daughter--becoming one of the latter's chief advisers on the death of her father and one of the two Flemish n.o.blemen who witnessed her marriage. The stately old palace is therefore rich with historic a.s.sociations. As we entered its broad courtyard, however, we were most unfavourably impressed by its rough-paved surface with the gra.s.s growing thick between the stones.

Surely this must have looked very different in the days when knights and fair ladies swarmed here like bees, and the city, which has so carefully restored everything else, would do well to at least park this otherwise very pretty little enclosure. The interior is both pleasing and disappointing. The edifice itself is superb as a survival of a n.o.bleman's palace of the fifteenth century, and as an example of Flemish interior architecture. The grand stone staircase, the ma.s.sive fireplaces, also in white stone, and one or two of the rooms in their entirety give a fine impression of the splendour of the establishment maintained by the great Lord of Gruuthuise in the days when he counted King Edward IV of England and Richard Crookback among his guests, and was engaged in collecting the marvellous library now in Paris.

Everywhere, over the fireplaces, and in various stone carvings, one reads the proud motto of the powerful builders of this palace, _Plus est en nous_.

When the palace was in course of restoration some years ago the workmen uncovered a secret chamber behind the great stone fireplace in the kitchen, concealed within the masonry of the huge chimney, and within it the skeleton of a man. A secret staircase was also discovered here which led to two underground pa.s.sages branching off in opposite directions. Strangely enough neither of them has ever been explored, but one is supposed to lead to the vaults beneath the adjoining church of Notre Dame, and the other to some point outside the city walls. Some have conjectured that it leads to the Chateau of Maele, some four miles distant, but probably it went to the manor of the Lords of Gruuthuise at Oostcamp. Within this mansion a modern Sir Walter Scott could easily conjure forth a new series of Waverley novels treating of the stirring days when Bruges was virtually the capital of Flanders and Flanders was the brightest jewel in the Burgundian crown.

All this is most fascinating, and, as far as it goes, helps us to reconstruct in fancy the great days of the past. The disappointing feature about the palace is the museum itself, which, although interesting and valuable, utterly spoils many of the fine rooms by converting them into mere exhibition places. In a measure the authorities have followed the admirable plan of the owners of the Hotel Merghelynck at Ypres, and the immense kitchen, for example, contains only kitchen utensils of the Middle Ages--a most complete and interesting collection. The same is also true of the large dining-room on the same floor, but as one proceeds farther the atmosphere of antiquity becomes lost and it is all nothing but museum. The palace contains a splendid collection of old lace, the gift of the Baroness Liedts, but it seemed to us that it would have been much better to have housed this and the various collections of antiquities in some less famous and historic structure and endeavoured to restore all of these rooms to approximately their condition when Charles the Bold stalked through them.

The period of Philip the Good and his terrible son was the one in which mediaeval Bruges took on substantially its present form. In addition to the Gruuthuise Palace scores of important edifices, public and private, were built or rebuilt at this time, while hundreds of smaller houses were constructed--of which many remain in existence to-day. The greatest and most famous edifice dating in large part from this epoch is the cathedral of St. Sauveur whose grim, castle-like tower dominates the entire city. The lowest part of the tower dates from 1116-1127--as already related in the chapter on Bruges under Charles the Good--when the church was rebuilt after a fire that destroyed the primitive structure erected on the site a century or more earlier. Between 1250 and 1346, or for almost a century, the men of Bruges were slowly piling up a n.o.ble church in the early Gothic style, but another fire in 1358 necessitated rebuilding the nave and transept--a task which occupied the next ten or fifteen years. In 1480 work was begun upon the five chapels of the choir and nine years later the Pope, Innocent VIII, granted a special Bull of Indulgence in favour of benefactors of this work, which appears to have been delayed for lack of funds. Work of various kinds was continued until the middle of the sixteenth century, but, in the main, the great church was nearly as we see it now by the year 1511. The upper part of the tower is comparatively modern, dating from 1846, and the spire from 1871. While it has been criticised by some as ungainly and c.u.mbrous, the effect of this tower, from whatever angle it may be viewed, is very pleasing. The high lights and shadows on a sunny morning, or late in the afternoon, make it far more beautiful than its sister of Notre Dame, while against the grey cloud ma.s.ses of a typical Flemish sky its huge tawny ma.s.s stands out sharp and clear, the embodiment of majesty and strength.

The interior of the church is very large, measuring three hundred and thirty-one feet by one hundred and twenty-five feet, with an extreme width of one hundred and seventy-four feet across the transepts. Its polychrome decorations and stained gla.s.s windows are modern. In another place the wealth of art treasures in this church would merit a chapter, but in Bruges they are so overshadowed by the many masterpieces to be seen elsewhere that we felt somewhat satiated after such a feast and spent very little time looking at the pictures here. The most famous one is a "Martyrdom of St. Hippolytus," by Dierick Bouts, which is interesting because so few examples of this primitive master are in existence. It is a triptych, the central panel showing the saint about to be torn to pieces by wild horses, on the left an incident in the life of the saint, and on the right the donors. The last picture has been attributed by many critics to Hugo Van der Goes, and for many years the entire picture was thought to be the work of Memling. Bouts delighted in unpleasant subjects, which he depicted with great realism.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THE LAST SUPPER."--THIERRY BOUTS.]

Dierick, or Thierry, Bouts settled at Louvain about the middle of the fifteenth century. Beyond the fact that he came from Haarlem nothing is known of his early life and training, but as Van der Weyden of Tournai had done some important work at Louvain it is likely that Bouts may have derived some of his inspiration from studying the methods of that master. He was a contemporary of Memling. Two of his paintings, "The Last Supper" and the gruesome "Martyrdom of St.

Erasmus," were executed for the wealthy brotherhood of the Holy Sacrament and were hung in the church of St. Peter.[2] Bouts became the official painter for the city of Louvain and produced a "Last Judgment" for the hall of the echevins which has since been lost, and two panels for the council-room of the Hotel de Ville representing "The Judgment of Otho." These are now in the museum at Brussels. The Queen having accused an earl of offending her honour, the latter is decapitated. The head is then given to his Countess, together with a glowing bar of iron. In the second panel she is shown triumphantly holding both, the hot iron refusing to burn her and thereby vindicating her husband's innocence. The result of the ordeal is shown in the distance where the false Queen is being executed at the stake.

These pictures were ordered, in imitation of those painted by Van der Weyden for the Hotel de Ville at Brussels, as part of a series of panels designed to instill the love of virtue and justice into the minds of the magistrates and people. The artist's death prevented his completing two other panels that the archives of Louvain show had been ordered. Besides this "Martyrdom of St. Hippolytus" a comparatively small number of other works from his brush are listed in the catalogues of various European museums.

[Footnote 2: They were probably destroyed during the burning of Louvain by the Germans.]

Of the other structures in Bruges of to-day there are a score that merit a visit from those who are interested in the city's splendid past, and that date for the most part from the last years of the Burgundian period. In the rue des Aiguilles there still exists a fragment of the Hotel Bladelin, the town house of Peter Bladelin, who was for many years Controller-General of Finance, Treasurer of the Order of the Golden Fleece, and the trusted agent of the Dukes in all manner of business and private affairs. Peter subsequently built the town of Middleburg, for the church in which Van der Weyden painted one of his most famous pictures. The Ghistelhof in the same street also dates from this epoch, and was built by the Lords of Ghistelle. Then there is the Hotel d'Adornes and the church of Jerusalem, which was formerly the private chapel of the rich brothers Anselm and John Adornes. There is still a fine mediaeval atmosphere lingering about this group of buildings, although much altered from what they were in their prime. The church itself is most curious, and beneath the choir is a crypt that leads to a reproduction of the Holy Sepulchre, said to be a facsimile of the one in the garden of Joseph of Arimathea. It would take a volume to cite all of the fine old structures of which traces still exist in this, the most picturesque of all the Flemish cities. The reader who desires to find them all cannot do better than to take Ernest Gilliat-Smith's brilliant _Story of Bruges_ with him and look for them, one by one. For those who cannot devote a week or more to this delightful task a quicker way to see the Bruges of Charles the Bold is to stroll slowly along the Quai Vert, the Quai des Marbriers and the Quai du Rosaire and let the beautiful vistas of the Vieux Bourg with its quaint red roofs and n.o.ble towers become engraved upon the memory, for here, more completely than anywhere else, one can see the Bruges of the past much as it looked in the day of its greatest splendour when it was about to sink into its long sleep.

Thus far Bruges has not suffered seriously from the war, and it is profoundly to be hoped that no bombardment such as crumbled its fair neighbour Termonde into utter ruin will create similar havoc amid these indescribably beautiful scenes. A few hours would suffice to destroy artistic and architectural treasures of a value that would make the destruction of Louvain seem of little consequence in comparison.

[Ill.u.s.tration: QUAI VERT, BRUGES.]

CHAPTER XV

MALINES IN THE TIME OF MARGARET OF AUSTRIA

Since this chapter was written the ill-fated city of Malines has been swept with shot and sh.e.l.l for many days together, its once happy and prosperous inhabitants driven far and wide--many of them into foreign lands--and it is doubtful if a single one of the various ancient edifices which we visited last June has escaped injury.

Notwithstanding these sad facts it has seemed best to retain the chapter substantially as it was written, inasmuch as it affords a pen picture of the old town as it looked on the very eve of its destruction. Let us hope that when the war is over it will be found that most, if not all, of its famous old structures can be restored again. As the scene of some of the most stubborn conflicts of the great war, it is likely that the city will be more generally visited by tourists than was the case when its architectural and artistic treasures were uninjured, save by the gentle hand of time. To those who thus visit it the following account of the Malines that was may prove interesting.

Situated midway between Antwerp and Brussels, on a route formerly traversed by scores of _rapides_ every day, the ancient city of Malines--which is the French spelling, the Flemish being Mechelen--was exceptionally easy to visit, yet during the three days that we spent wandering along its entrancing old quays and streets and inspecting its many "monuments" we saw not a single tourist. This was the more remarkable because Malines is not only one of the very oldest cities in Northern Europe, but was for centuries among the most famous. For a considerable period it was the capital of all the Netherlands, and it is still the religious capital of Belgium--the archbishop of its cathedral church exercising authority over the bishops of Bruges, Ghent, Liege, Namur and Tournai.

No matter from which side one approaches the city the first object to be seen is the vast square tower of the Cathedral of St. Rombaut, and as this huge structure--the eighth wonder of the world, according to Vauban--dominates the town, so the church itself has dominated the history of the city on the River Dyle for more than eleven centuries. According to tradition St. Rombaut, or Rombold, to use the English spelling, sought to convert the savage tribes inhabiting the marshes that extended along the river about the middle of the eighth century, the date of his martyrdom being placed at 775. A Benedictine abbey was shortly afterwards established near his tomb, which steadily grew in importance and power until by the twelfth century it had become one of the most important religious inst.i.tutions in the region.

During the thirteenth century the prince-bishops of Malines became the virtual sovereigns of the city, one of them--Gauthier Berthout, sometimes called the Great--defeating the Duke of Gueldre, who attempted in 1267 to a.s.sert his authority over that of the prelate. At this period many of the religious inst.i.tutions of Malines were established under the patronage of Gauthier Berthout and his successors.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CATHEDRAL OF ST. ROMBAUT. MALINES.]

Meanwhile the comparative immunity of the city from the ravages of the wars that so often raged at that period between the various feudal lords of the region caused great numbers of artisans to settle there, particularly weavers, while the cloth merchants' guild came to be recognised as ent.i.tled to a voice in the civil affairs of the commune. Ships, according to the chronicles, came up the River Dyle in such numbers as to make the commercial activity of the town rival that of Antwerp--a statement that is hard to believe when one gazes at the tiny River Dyle of to-day. However, the ships in those days were very small, and the river, like so many others in Belgium, was no doubt broader then than it is now that the marshes have all been drained.

The weavers and other artisans were a turbulent lot, and it soon became evident that the bishops lacked the power to hold them in check.

This led to a series of alienations of the temporal power over the commune to neighbouring princes whose armies were strong enough to keep the unruly burghers in restraint. The first of these was effected in the year 1300 between the prince-bishop, Jean Berthout, and Jean II, Duke of Brabant. In 1303 the news of the great victory gained over the n.o.bility by the Flemish communes at Courtrai caused the citizens to revolt against their new master, the Duke, who besieged the city and finally reduced it by starvation. Until this time the Dyle had never been bridged, its waters flowing over a broad marshy bed. This made the siege the more difficult as the attacking forces were separated by the river, and it was five months before the st.u.r.dy burghers yielded. To this day an annual procession, called the _peysprocessie_, perpetuates the memory of this famous siege.

During the next half century the civil authority over the city became a veritable shuttlec.o.c.k of politics and war, shifting back and forth between the Dukes of Brabant and the Counts of Flanders. It was bought and sold like a parcel of real estate, but eventually rested with the Counts of Flanders, who had first acquired it by purchase in 1333, and were finally left in undisputed possession by a treaty signed in 1357.

Four years later a violent insurrection of the weavers and other artisans broke out that was only mastered after the city had been in their possession fifteen days, but with the advent of the Dukes of Burgundy to the supreme power over all of Flanders, Brabant, Hainaut and Holland, the unruly workmen were no longer strong enough to resist these redoubtable princes. Great numbers of them emigrated to other cities, and the cloth industry, after languishing for a time, finally disappeared.

Like most Flemish towns, Malines has its princ.i.p.al railway station located on its very outskirts, and as far as possible from the Grande Place. A tram car was standing in front of the station on the morning of our first visit, but it seemed that it did not start for ten minutes. A score of roomy two-seated carriages invited our patronage, but we valiantly decided to walk. We soon regretted our decision as the walk proved to be long and hot, with very little of interest to see, as the houses in this part of the town are comparatively modern.

At the bridge across the Dyle we paused for a few moments to admire the fine views that can here be had of the old Church Notre Dame au dela de la Dyle to the westward and the equally picturesque Notre Dame d'Hanswyck to the eastward. Just beyond the river is the entrance to the Botanical Gardens, and as our first visit chanced to be on a Friday we walked in unmolested and enjoyed the welcome shade and the beautiful landscape effects of this charming little park. Later on we learned that Friday is the only week-day on which admission is free, a fee of ten cents being exacted on other days.

As is the case in most Belgian cities, the street from the station to the heart of the town, although continuous and straight, changes its name more than once. At the outset it is the rue Conscience, then the rue d'Egmont, and from the bridge across the Dyle to the Grande Place it is named Bruul. Entering the Place from this side we paused to admire the tremendous tower of the cathedral which here burst upon us in all its majestic grandeur, although the edifice is situated a little to the west of the Place itself. In front of us, on the right, was a singularly dilapidated ruin, which we learned was the old Cloth Hall. Part of it is used as a police station, part is vacant with its window openings devoid of sashes or gla.s.s staring blankly at the sky, while part is devoted to housing a small museum of munic.i.p.al antiquities. The first Cloth Hall at Malines was destroyed by fire in 1342, and the new one that was begun to replace it was never finished, owing to the ruin of the cloth industry during the struggles between the artisans and their overlords, and a belfry which it was proposed to erect similar to that at Bruges was never begun. The museum contains a number of pictures by Malines artists, of historical rather than artistic interest, a "Christ on the Cross," by Rubens, and a variety of relics of the city's famous past. Curiously enough, there is not a single piece of lace in the collection, nor anything to represent the great cloth weaving industry--the two branches of manufacture to which the city owes so much of its former wealth and fame.

Adjoining the _Halle aux Draps_ to the north is a fine modern post-office built from designs drawn by the great Malines architect of the sixteenth century, Rombaut Keldermans, for a new Hotel de Ville, which was never built. Unfortunately its princ.i.p.al facade overlooks the narrow rue de Beffer instead of the Grande Place, and its beautiful details cannot be seen as effectively as could be desired.

In the Vieux Palais, the ancient "Schepenhuis," or house of the bailiffs, situated a little south of the Place, we were shown the original design by Keldermans. It is kept in a sliding panel on the wall and, although somewhat dim with age, can still be studied in detail. The modern architects of the post-office have reverently followed the plans of the great master so that at least this one of his many brilliant architectural dreams has come true, and now stands carved in imperishable stone just as his genius conceived it nearly four centuries ago.

To the ancestor of this architect, Jean Keldermans, is generally attributed the honour of designing the tower of St. Rombaut, the architectural glory of Malines and one of the most magnificent structures of the kind in the world. There are a thousand places throughout the city where the photographer or painter can obtain attractive views of this masterpiece, but perhaps the best of all is from a point some distance down the Ruelle sans Fin (Little Street without End) where a quaint mediaeval house forms an arch across the narrow street, while behind and far above it rises the majestic tower.

From whatever standpoint one regards the great tower, whether gazing up at its vast bulk from directly beneath--a point of view that the camera cannot reproduce--or from any of the little streets that radiate away from it, its grandeur and beauty are equally impressive.

[Ill.u.s.tration: TOWER OF THE CATHEDRAL OF ST. ROMBAUT FROM THE RUELLE SANS FIN.]

Begun in 1452, work on the great tower advanced slowly. In 1468, according to a memorial tablet near the southern side of the tower, Gauthier Coolman was buried there. It was the custom in the Middle Ages to thus recognise the _magister operis_, or creator of the work, but it is generally acknowledged that Jean Keldermans is ent.i.tled to share in the credit for this achievement. Jean was the first in a family of famous architects, his brothers Andre, Mathieu and Antoine I, following the same profession, and their skill being handed down to later generations, of whom the most famous were Antoine II, Rombaut and Laurent. At the beginning of the sixteenth century work on the great tower was stopped, owing to lack of funds, after attaining a height of three hundred and eighteen feet. The plans, of which sketches are still preserved at Brussels, called for carrying the spire upward to a total height of five hundred and fifty feet, and in the ambulatory of the cathedral we found a plaster cast showing the spire as it was proposed to erect it. The stones to complete the work were already cut and brought to Malines, but were carried away between 1582 and 1584 by the Prince of Orange to build the town of Willemstadt. Apart from its height, this tower is remarkable for its great bulk, measuring no less than twenty-five metres in diameter at the base.

On each side for most of its height the architect designed a series of lofty Gothic windows. Of these the lowest are filled in with masonry, except for a tiny window in the centre. In the higher ones stone blinds fill in the openings, while the topmost pair are wide open to the sky. The well-known legend about the over-excitable citizen of Malines who cried "Fire!" one night after seeing the full moon through these windows gave the people of the town for many years the nickname of _Maanblusschers_, or moon extinguishers, and also gave rise to the slur in the last three words of the following Latin distich in which an old monkish poet compares the six chief cities of Belgium:

_n.o.bilibus Bruxella viris, Antwerpia Nummis, Gandavum laqueis, formosis Bruga puellis, Lovanium doctis, gaudet Mechlinia stultis._

Brussels is renowned for its n.o.ble men, Antwerp for its money, Ghent for its halters, Bruges for its pretty girls, Louvain for its scholars, Malines (Mechelen) for its fools.

This seems rather hard on Malines, and also on Ghent, the allusion to that city referring to numerous occasions when its sovereigns humbled the burghers by forcing them to plead for mercy with halters around their necks.

On the outside of the tower, close to its present summit, is a clock the face of which is claimed to be the largest in the world. As the same claim is made for the great clock on an industrial establishment in Jersey City I will simply give the dimensions of the one at Malines and let those interested make the comparison for themselves: Diameter of face, 13.5 metres; circ.u.mference, 41 metres; length of hour hand, 3.62 metres; height of figures, 1.96 metres. The minute hands were originally 4.25 metres long, but are missing on all four sides. This renders the time-piece hardly one to be consulted if one is catching a train, as the exact minute can only be estimated from the position of the hour hand. Furthermore, the gilding on the hour hands and on most of the figures has become so dim that only the strongest eyes can distinguish the former, and some of the latter can only be made out from their position. As the city appeared to be exceedingly proud of the size of this clock it seemed strange that the authorities did not authorise the expenditure of the small sum necessary to re-gild it.

It is a hard climb to the top of the tower, but one well worth making, not only for the fine panorama of the city that unfolds itself wider and wider as one mounts higher, but for the opportunity thus afforded of seeing the fine _carillon_, or set of chimes, and the curious mechanism operating the clappers that strike the hours. Just before reaching the floor upon which these are placed the guide conducts the visitor to a trap door from which one can look down into the interior of the cathedral--a thrilling experience to be enjoyed only by those who are not inclined to be dizzy. The ma.s.sive timber work supporting the huge bells was constructed in 1662, but the oldest of the bells dates from 1498, or six years after the discovery of America. The two biggest bells are named Salvator and Charles, of which the larger one weighs 8,884 kilos, or more than nine tons, and requires twelve men to ring it. There are four other big bells and forty-five for the entire _carillon_, most of which were cast by Pierre Hemony of Amsterdam, the Stradivarius of bell founders, in 1674. Altogether they form four octaves, the giants chiming in with the others as the music demands.

The keyboard which operates the little hammers is operated by both hand and foot power, and the _carillonneur_ who operates it is worthy of the splendid instrument at his command, being Josef Denyn, the son of an equally famous _carillonneur_, and reputed to be the finest in Europe. M. Denyn not only gives frequent concerts at Malines, but also at Antwerp and Bruges, as well as in many European cities outside of Belgium.

We made a special trip to Malines one Monday afternoon in June solely to listen to one of these concerts, which takes place on that day between eight and nine in the evening, during the months of June, August and September. The sleepy old town was thronged with automobiles, for the renown of these famous concerts has spread far and wide, and some of the cars, we were told, had come from points as far away as Ostende, Blankenburghe and Heyst, while scores were from Antwerp and Brussels. The crowd gathered quietly in the streets surrounding the great tower and a great silence seemed to pervade the entire city as the hour of eight approached. Then, faint and far at first, came the first dulcet tones from this great organ of the sky, until--as the music swelled and more of the larger bells began to blend their notes in the harmony--the very air seemed vibrant with celestial sounds. The selection, as we afterwards learned, was one of the _Volksliederen_, or pieces of folk music for the rendition of which M. Denyn is famous. As we listened we realised as never before the part the ancient _carillon_ was meant to take in the daily life of the people. It is, in truth, as a French author has beautifully expressed it, the orchestra of the poor, giving expression through its wondrous notes to their joys and their sorrows. On the occasion of great fetes its music is light and gay, in attune with the popular rejoicing; in times of public grief the _carillon_ gives utterance to notes of lamentation; when a famous citizen is being borne to his last resting-place through the streets lined with silent mourners the _carillon_ sends the deep notes of its funeral dirges across the city; in time of war or sudden danger the great bells roar the wild tocsin of alarm; in time of peace their softest notes breathe a sweet prayer of peace and benediction at eventide.