Among the tombstones in the Cathedral of St. Bavon one that deserves more than a pa.s.sing 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 n.o.ble example was speedily followed by the city, which also encouraged the horticulturists. In 1640 William de Blasere, an alderman of the city, constructed the first hothouse ever seen in Europe. It was a hundred feet long, made of wood and gla.s.s, 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 inst.i.tution 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, Caesar, 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 a.s.surance 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 t.i.tle 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 s.p.a.ce 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 pere de Gand Rendez nous notre pere!"

It would take a satirist like d.i.c.kens 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 quant.i.ties of food, but depended on Wellington and Blucher 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 Armee 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 a.s.signed 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 ill.u.s.trated after his death.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "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 cla.s.ses, according to their relative importance, and credits Ghent with thirteen of the first cla.s.s, 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 cla.s.s, 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 "Arriere-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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: OLD GUILD HOUSES, QUAI AUX HERBES, GHENT.]

The guilds have already been mentioned, and the facades of all of the more famous of the guild houses have been carefully restored. These include the Maison des Mesureurs de Ble and the Maison des Francs Bateliers on the Quai aux Herbes, the Maison des Macons 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.

CHAPTER XVII

AUDENAERDE AND MARGARET OF PARMA

It was on a pleasant morning in June that the Professor and I set forth on a little expedition to the famous town of the tapestry weavers, leaving the ladies to rest and shop at Brussels. The poplar-trees that line the country roads and ca.n.a.ls in all parts of Belgium were in full bloom and their light cotton-clad seeds were drifting like snow in every direction. Moreover, contrary to our experience for some time past, the sun seemed likely to shine all day and our old friend J. Pluvius was in complete retreat. Our route lay for a considerable distance through a charming hop country, the plots being much smaller than one sees in Kent or in Central New York State, but very numerous, and, no doubt, aggregating a considerable acreage.

Farther along we pa.s.sed through a superb stretch of hilly country where many of the houses and barns had thatched roofs and were so picturesque, both in themselves and in their surroundings, that we would fain have descended at one of the little stations and spent the day exploring and photographing this charming corner of Flanders. The most beautiful spot of all bore the pretty name of Louise-Marie--the thatch-roofed houses nestling cosily together upon a hillside. This little station, by the way, is on the line from Blaton to Audenaerde (in Flemish Oudenaarde), as we were approaching our destination from the south instead of directly from Brussels. Presently the great tower of Ste. Walburge loomed up ahead on our right, and we could even catch a glimpse of the famous Hotel de Ville. Instead of stopping, however, our train went on past the church, past the town, past everything, until we began to fear that our faithful "_omnibus_" had suddenly gone crazy and fancied itself a "_rapide_" bound for goodness knows where.

At last, however, the station came in sight, but we even sped past that, coming to rest finally some distance down the railroad yard. As we walked back toward the "_Sortie-Ausgang_" gateway we debated whether we would drive back to the town in a cab or take a tram.

Emerging on the street we promptly decided to walk, since neither cab nor tram-car could be seen.

There was no danger of losing our way, for there, straight down the long street before us, we could see the huge ma.s.s of Ste. Walburge towering far above the little houses around it. After a leisurely walk of five or six minutes we arrived at a large bleak-looking square, called the Place de Tacambaro, at the centre of which stood a monument that--had we been in a carriage or on a tram-car--we would have pa.s.sed without more than a pa.s.sing glance. As it was, we paused to read the inscriptions and found that, for Americans, they told a story of no little interest. It appears that this is a memorial erected in honour of the volunteers from Audenaerde who died in Mexico in the service of the unfortunate Emperor Maximilian. The south side of the monument, which represents a reclining female figure by the sculptor, W. Geefs, bears the following inscription:

"Ordre de Jour

Officiers et Soldats! Vous avez pris votre part des travaux et des luttes dans la guerre du Mexique, votre valeur dans les combats, votre discipline dans les fatigues des longues marches ont honore le nom Belge.

Au moment de vous rembarquer pour aller revoir votre patrie recevez les adieux de vos freres d'armes du corps expeditionaire francais.

Dans quelques semaines vous aurez revu les rivages de votre patrie y conservez, je l'espere, bon souvenir de leux qui ont soufert et combattu a vos cotes, ainsi que du Marechal de France qui a eu l'honneur de vous commander.

Le Marechal de France, Commandant en Chef.

BAZAINE."

Proceeding along the street, which still led straight toward the great church, we discussed the strange fate that had led these valiant Flemings to give their lives in a war of conquest so many thousands of miles away--a futile sacrifice as the event proved, with this little monument as their sole reward.

Almost before we were aware of it we found ourselves at the Grande Place with the Hotel de Ville right in front of us. We were on the west side of the little structure, which on the rue Haute adjoins the ancient Halle aux Draps. An old doorway gives on the rue Haute, but is no longer used, the entrance being now through the Hotel de Ville.

While the two princ.i.p.al churches of the town have suffered severely from the fanatical ravages of the iconoclasts, or image breakers, the Hotel de Ville can be seen in almost its pristine magnificence.

Architecturally this monument is generally considered as one of the finest, not only in Flanders, but in the whole of Europe. Little it undeniably is, although it towers up bravely above the low two-story buildings surrounding it, but its very smallness gives its marvellous facade the richness and delicacy of the finest lace. Begun in 1525, it was completed twelve years later at a cost of "65,754 livres parisis, 16 sols, 2 deniers." Those who are curious can ascertain the modern equivalent of the "Paris pound" of 1537, but even when we add the 16 sols, 2 deniers, it seems as though the burghers got very good value for their money.

[Ill.u.s.tration: HOTEL DE VILLE, AUDENAERDE. Photograph by E. Sacre.]

Late Gothic is the period to which this gem in the galaxy of splendid Flemish town halls belongs. It is considered the masterpiece of its architect, Henri Van Pede, who also designed the superb Hotel de Ville at Brussels and that at Louvain. The many little niches on the front once contained statues of the n.o.ble lords and dames of Flanders, including no doubt several of the great house of Lalaing, the Count Philippe de Lalaing having laid the corner stone. Unfortunately these were all destroyed during the religious wars and the French Revolution and have never been replaced. This seems a great pity, as Flanders still possesses many stone-carvers of great skill, and the kindly hand of time would soon mellow the new work to harmonise with the old.

As it is, every niche contains the iron projection that formerly held its statue in place, so that the work of restoration would consist of simply carving each of the little statues in the sculptor's own atelier, wherever it might be, and afterwards placing them in position.

One of the original statues still remains in place, however, and is ent.i.tled to the honour of being styled the oldest citizen of Audenaerde. This is none other than Hanske 't Krijgerke, Pet.i.t Jean le Guerrier, or Little John the Warrior, who, with his diminutive standard bearing the arms of the city, stands on the topmost pinnacle of the tower. His gaze is ever toward the South, with a far-away look in his eyes, across the Grande Place and toward the distant hills.

During the three hundred and seventy-eight years that he has been standing there, braving the winter rains and the summer sunshine, how many changes have taken place in the great outside world while little Audenaerde has stood still!

Even without its statues the princ.i.p.al facade of the Hotel de Ville merits more than a pa.s.sing glance. In the admirable harmony of its proportions, the delicate beauty of its details, in the excellence of the stone carvings--almost perfectly preserved--that form wreaths and festoons of stone about its Gothic windows, there is nothing finer to be seen in all Flanders. The high pointed roof, with its tiny dormer windows, is exactly as the architect intended it, and the charming little tower seems as perfect as the day the last of the sixteenth-century masons left it.

The interior is worthy of the exterior. On the first floor a large hall, called the Salle du Peuple--Hall of the People--extends from one side of the building to the other. This contains a fine stone fireplace surmounted by a splendidly carved Gothic mantelpiece with statues of Ste. Walburge in the centre and Justice and Power on either side. Below are the arms of Austria, Flanders, and of Audenaerde. This masterpiece was carved by Paul Van der Schelden. The walls on each side of the fireplace are decorated with modern mural paintings depicting Liederick de Buck, the first Forester of Flanders, Dierick of Alsace, Baldwin of Constantinople, and Charles the Fifth. Between the windows overlooking the Grande Place are the Arms of Castile and Aragon, while at the ends of each of the great beams that support the ceiling are carved the arms of the various kingdoms and princ.i.p.alities belonging to Charles V.

Already we perceive that the shadow of the great Emperor rests heavily on this little city of Audenaerde, and as we proceed further in our explorations the more dominating and omnipresent does his personality become. Even the very arms of the city bear a mute evidence to his generosity and sense of humour. It is related that on a certain occasion the Emperor and his stately train approached the city without being perceived by the sentinel stationed in the tower of this very Hotel de Ville to announce his arrival. On reaching the gates, therefore, the Imperial cortege found no one to welcome the great monarch. The Burgomaster and the members of the Council, who should have been there in their robes of state, were conspicuous by their absence. Had this happened to his ancestor Charles the Bold, whose fiery temper brooked no discourtesy, even when unintended, it might well have gone hard with the unfortunate officials. As it was, the Emperor overlooked the slight, but not long afterwards he maliciously inserted a pair of spectacles in the arms of the city, remarking that in future they would thus be able to see more clearly the approach of their sovereign.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WOODEN DOORWAY, CARVED BY VAN DER SCHELDEN, HOTEL DE VILLE, AUDENAERDE.]

Adjoining the Salle du Peuple is a smaller chamber, the Salle des echevins, or the Council Chamber of the ancient commune. Here there is another stone fireplace slightly inferior to the one in the larger hall, but resembling it in general design. The statues here represent the Virgin Mary in the centre, with Justice and Hope on either side.

The chief masterpiece in this room, however, is the wooden doorway carved by Van der Schelden, who was instructed by the burghers to make it as beautiful as possible. How faithfully the artist performed his task the result shows. Around its top stand wooden cupids surmounting a richly carved entablature containing the arms of Charles V in the centre with those of Flanders and of Audenaerde on either side. The first is supported by two griffins, the second by two lions and the last by two savages. The panels of the door itself and of the sidewalls forming the complete portal are richly carved, each design being different from all the others. For this bit of wood-carving the frugal burghers paid the sum of one thousand, eighteen livres parisis, or nine hundred and twenty-three francs--something over $175--and the artist furnished the wood!

Formerly the walls of this room were decorated with tapestries of Audenaerde, but at the time of Louis XIV these were all removed and taken to Paris. Most of the tapestries in the town overlooked by le Grande Monarque were subsequently taken away by Napoleon, so that the Hotel de Ville of the city that gave these treasures to the world, and that should possess the finest collection of them, has been stripped completely bare. In their stead the Council Chamber at present contains a collection of paintings of no special artistic merit but of great historical interest. There is, of course, a portrait of Charles V, wearing the insignia of the Order of the Golden Fleece. A portrait of Louis XIV on horseback and bearing a marshal's baton, by Philippe de Champaigne, forms a poor subst.i.tute for the tapestries filched by His Majesty. This collection also comprises several portraits of personages famous in later Flemish history. Of these the most noteworthy is that of Margaret of Parma, which hangs close to that of her father, the Emperor.

Just across the Grande Place from the Hotel de Ville stands the Tower of Baldwin, undoubtedly the oldest structure in the city, and erected by Baldwin V, a Count of Flanders who died in 1067, making it date from the Norman Conquest. The concierge of the Hotel de Ville informed us that this little tower, which adjoins another ancient edifice now used as a brewery, was the birthplace of Margaret, but this does not appear to be altogether certain. Some authorities state that the honour belongs to a little two-story house with a high, steep-sloping roof that also faces the Place. If the walls of these old houses had the ears that proverbially belong to all walls, and were still further provided with lips to whisper the secrets they overheard, they could no doubt settle this question; and at the same time throw some additional light upon a famous bit of mediaeval romance and scandal.

Of all the natives of the ancient town of Audenaerde the most famous was Margaret, afterwards the d.u.c.h.ess of Parma, and for many years Regent of the Low Countries, over which she ruled with an almost imperial sway. Her father was the great Emperor, Charles V, who dallied here for several weeks as guest of the Countess de Lalaing, wife of the Governor of Audenaerde, while his soldiers were besieging Tournai in the year 1521. The attraction that kept him so far from his army was a pretty Flemish maiden named Jehanne or Jeanne Van der Gheynst. According to the none too trustworthy Strada, this young lady was a member of the Flemish n.o.bility, but according to the city archives it appears that she belonged to a family of humble tapestry workers residing at Nukerke, a suburb of Audenaerde. At all events, her pretty face attracted the attention of the youthful Emperor--whether at a ball, as Strada says, or while she was serving as maid of the Countess de Lalaing, as many writers a.s.sume, or perhaps at a village Kermesse which Charles might well have attended incognito. After the little Margaret was born the mother received an annual income of twenty-four livres parisis from the Emperor. In 1525 she married the Maitre de Chambre extraordinaire of the Counts of Brabant, and died in 1541. Charles took his little daughter and had her brought up as a princess. In 1537, when she was only fifteen years old, she was married by the Emperor to Alexander, the Duke of Urbin, a cruel and dissolute Italian prince who, however, died the same year.

The following year she was married to Octavio Farnese, a grandson of Pope Pius III, who was then only fourteen. She was herself strongly opposed to this marriage, but the Emperor was obdurate and she finally yielded. Her son, Alexander Farnese, was the famous Duke of Parma who became the foremost military leader on the Spanish side during the sanguinary war between Philip II and the Netherlands. On the death of her father, Margaret was made Regent of the Low Countries by her half-brother Philip II. She arrived at Ghent, July 25th, 1559, and on August 7th the King presented her to the States General, saying that he had chosen her as his representative because she was so close to him by birth and "because of the singular affection she has always borne toward the Low Countries where she was born and raised and of which she knew all the languages." She retired from the Regency in 1567, but was called back once more in 1580 at the personal request of the King. As her son Alexander was then at the zenith of his power, and opposed to her resuming the regency, she finally declined the honour which was reluctantly given to him. She died in 1586 at the age of sixty-six.