The great meal of the day in all parts of Flanders is the dinner, and it cuts the day in two—coming between noon and two o’clock and usually lasting an hour or more. The evening meal, or supper, is much less important, save in a few hotels catering largely to tourists. To get up a real Flemish dinner, cooked and served in the best style of which the Flemish cooks are capable, the housewife first ascertains when the local butcher has fresh-killed meat and plans accordingly. Vegetables in Flanders are always good, in their respective seasons, but to get the finest quality of meats one must buy just after the butcher has made a killing. To Americans, who have been accustomed all their lives to eat meat that has been kept on ice, it almost seems as though one has never tasted a roast of beef or a shoulder of mutton before—so deliciously sweet, tender and juicy are they when cooked and eaten before the ice has robbed them of their richness and flavour.
It was while we were browsing around Ghent that the ladies discovered a bit of handicraft that seems worth mentioning. We subsequently saw the same thing at Brussels and Antwerp, so that it appears to be distinctly a Belgian industry. In a large window they noticed two women engaged in what from over the way might have been taken for lace-making. Mrs. Professor hurried across at once to investigate and she and the Madame spent half an hour watching the operation. Each of the two women was engaged in repairing, the one a pair of trousers and the other an overcoat. In each case the repair consisted of literally weaving a new segment of cloth in place of the damaged portion. First cutting out all of the latter they frayed out an edge of the goods at some point where there was sufficient material turned under for their purpose. This done they took short strands of each of the various coloured yarns and, with infinite patience and skill, wove them together in an exact reproduction of the design of the original textile. So cleverly was the work done that when completed the reparation could not be detected. It is possible that repairing of this kind is done in America but none of us had ever seen or heard of it. In Belgium it seemed to be fairly common, being styled Reparation invisible, and the price varying from one to three or four francs for each hole repaired, according to the nature of the goods and the design. We also saw rugs being repaired in the same manner, as well as ladies’ dress goods of every description.
It is one of the most deplorable features of the war that its most fearful destructiveness should have been wreaked upon a little country where every small economy and patient utilisation of trifles had been practised for centuries. All Belgium is pre-eminently a land of thrift, of painstaking husbanding of small resources, and to beggar half the population of such a country means a calamity to each family group and individual far more poignant than would be the case where frugality was less deeply ingrained as a national characteristic.
[CHAPTER XI]
PHILIP THE GOOD AND THE VAN EYCKS
As the sunset is often the most beautiful hour of the day, so the splendour of the old Flemish communes reached its zenith at the moment when many of them were about to sink into their long sleep. This was the period of Burgundian rule. Upon the death of Louis of Maele the County of Flanders ceased to be a separate sovereignty, as it had been since Baldwin of the Iron Arm, for the husband of Margaret, the old Count’s daughter, was Duke of Burgundy and brother of the King of France—a foreign prince whose interests in France far out-weighed in his mind his interests in Flanders. The new ruler, Philip the Bold, was acknowledged as Count of Flanders in 1384, but was only able to enter Audenaerde by stratagem after a siege, and was defied openly by the sturdy burghers of Ghent. The following year, however, Philip effected a family union by which he virtually controlled the two important States of Brabant and Hainaut. His eldest son was married to Margaret, daughter of the Regent of Hainaut, while the latter’s son married Philip’s daughter. These marriages were celebrated at Cambrai, in April, 1385, and at the same time the Duchess of Brabant recognised Philip’s second son as heir to the Duchy. Brabant at that time was less rich and powerful than Flanders, but its chief cities, Brussels and Louvain, were growing rapidly. Hainaut, on the other hand, had been termed by one of its leaders “a poor country of proud men”—its chief cities, Mons and Valenciennes, being places of third-rate importance, and its present vast mineral wealth then undreamed of. The marriages of Cambrai are worth remembering, however, as explaining the rapidity with which the House of Burgundy extended its sway over nearly all of what is now Belgium.
Ghent still resisted its new Count, but an army of one hundred thousand French and Burgundians—gathered primarily to invade England—destroyed the seaport of Damme, which had been rebuilt since its previous destruction by the French, and plundered “the Four Trades,” as the fertile region thereabout was called. Ghent, however, had suffered enough to make it sue for peace and acknowledge Philip’s sovereignty. The invasion of England project came to nothing—as have so many others before and since—but it had at least enabled Philip to establish his power in Flanders.
On Philip’s death in 1404, he was succeeded by his son, John the Fearless (as the old chroniclers call him). The life of this prince belongs to the history of France rather than Flanders, as he had little use for his Flemish towns except to extort money from their burghers—who granted him such sums as he required on his renewing acknowledgment of their liberties and privileges. In 1407 John caused the murder of his great rival in the government of France, the Duke of Orleans. Then came the battle of Agincourt, where the power of France was ruined by Henry the Fifth, and in 1419 the son of the Duke of Orleans avenged the murder of his father twelve years previously by murdering John the Fearless at Montereau.