No visitor to Ghent fails to take a look at De Dulle Griete, or “Mad Margery,” Philip Van Artevelde’s big cannon that stands in the Mannekens Aert. According to Froissart, Van Artevelde took with him to the siege of Audenaerde “a bombard which was fifty feet in length, and shot stones of immense weight. When they fired off this bombard it might be heard five leagues off in the daytime, and ten at night. The report of it was so loud, that it seemed as if all the devils in hell had broken loose.” Mad Margery seems to have shrunk considerably since Froissart’s time, for she is now nineteen feet long and three feet in diameter at the mouth. The gun was made of wrought iron and weighs thirty-four thousand, one hundred and sixty-six pounds, and was capable of throwing a stone weighing seven hundred and eight pounds.
DE DULLE GRIETE, GHENT.
Another interesting monument dating from the same period in the city’s history as the Belfry is the Hospital of the Biloque or Biloke. Some of the buildings are of much more recent construction, but the Gothic chapel was built early in the thirteenth century, apparently about 1228, with a double gable and immense timber roof. The former Refectory offers an example of early brick work at one of its ends, le beau pignon, that is a joy to architects, and has often been described and illustrated in the technical books. The timber roof of this structure is also noteworthy. It is now used as a hospital for old men. This edifice is a century later than the chapel, while some of the other buildings date from the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.
Ghent contains two Béguinages, a circumstance that gives not a little trouble to visitors who in trying to visit one are about always—at least that was our experience on two occasions—directed to the other. Both are large, but one is more notable for its antiquity and the other for its size and the perfection of its appointments. The first Béguinage in Ghent was founded by Jeanne of Constantinople in 1233 as a place of refuge for women disciples of the church who in those evil days felt the need of protection, but did not desire to enter the conventual life. Little houses sprang up and the institution proved so popular that a second Béguinage was soon established which came to be called the Petit Béguinage. Protected by the successive Counts, and particularly by the patronage of the Countesses of Flanders, both institutions flourished and expanded steadily. The present Petit Béguinage de Notre Dame dates largely from the seventeenth century, and the Chapel and streets of tiny houses inhabited by the Béguines are most picturesque. It has accommodations for three hundred sisters. The Grand Béguinage de Ste. Elisabeth was confiscated during the French Revolution and the property presented to the almshouses of the city of Ghent. The Committee in charge of the almshouses suffered the Béguines to remain undisturbed, however, until 1872 when strained relations resulting from this arrangement led to the Béguines giving up their establishment, which was modernized by the authorities and many of its interesting features destroyed. The church remains, having become a parish church, and the rue des Prébendières retains its original appearance. Meanwhile, the Duke of Arenberg purchased ground for a new Grande Béguinage at Mont St. Amand, and here a little city of small houses, designed in fifteenth-century Flemish style, and a new chapel were erected, the work being completed in 1874.
WORKROOM, PETIT BÉGUINAGE DE NOTRE DAME, GHENT.
We spent a very charming afternoon visiting the Grande Béguinage. Passing through the lofty gateway we were greeted by the pleasant-faced Béguine who receives all visitors and who directed us how to reach the buildings we were permitted to see. As at Bruges, the cells were not shown to visitors. Altogether at St. Amand there are fourteen “convents” and eighty houses, the former accommodating twenty or thirty inmates and the latter two or three, with occasionally some lady from the outer world who is taken as a lodger. Each little house is numbered and also has a name, usually that of some saint. Arriving at the convent we had been permitted to visit we were first conducted down a long, clean corridor, painted a glaring white, to a parlour or reception room, of which there appear to be several. Then, after the Lady Superior had been notified of our presence and had come to welcome us, we were taken to the refter, or dining-room. The inventor of the kitchen cabinet could have taken points from this curious apartment. Along the walls and between the windows are a dozen or more cupboards, of which one belongs to each Béguine. Here she keeps her napkins, dishes and cooking utensils, and even her bread and provisions. A board can be pulled out near the middle, which serves as a table. These cupboards are so constructed that no Béguine can see into that of her neighbour, and apparently they take their meals one at a time, as one was eating her frugal repast when we entered, and when we passed through the room again a little later her little private refectory was closed and another one was seated at her little shelf or table. Adjoining this queer dining-room was a large kitchen, with an extremely big cook stove, on which a half-dozen little pots were simmering gently. One Béguine, we were told, has the duty of attending to the kitchen for three weeks, then another, each taking turns. The Béguines prepare their own meals to suit themselves, the one in charge of the kitchen merely looking after the actual process of cooking.
We next visited the workroom, where a group of Béguines were busily engaged in making lace. The bright sunshine streaming through the large windows on the silent group of workers, each clad in her sombre garb of black and white, made a pretty picture. All seemed to be care-free and contented, though the expression on their faces could hardly be described as one of happiness. As in all conventual institutions, the inmates are required to go through quite a series of devotional exercises from morning mass to the Benediction Night Prayers. The scene in the little chapel attached to each convent, or in the large chapel of the entire Béguinage, when the sisters are assembled for service is a very picturesque one and gives the visitor an impression likely long to be remembered.
Speaking of the peculiar dining customs of the Béguines reminds me that in Flanders the judicious should not overlook the importance of doing justice to the culinary treats that are provided by even the little hotels. For those travellers who look upon eating as one of the disagreeable necessities of existence, to be shirked or evaded as far as possible, and, in any event, to be hurried through with quickly lest something be overlooked that the immortal Mr. Baedeker said must be seen, this is one feature of Flemish life that will make no appeal. On the other hand, for those who are neither mentally nor bodily dyspeptic; who agree with the French aphorism that “the animals feed, while man eats”; and who are still able to enjoy a good meal well planned, well cooked, and well served, a trip through Flanders will bring a new pleasure every day. A peep into any Flemish kitchen will convince the most sceptical that here, at all events, one’s stomach is not likely to be forgotten. Pots and kettles, casseroles and pans, pitchers and jugs, large and small, hang around the walls or rest upon long shelves—all of brightly polished copper and ready for instant service.