Dans son fouriau.'

It was a great change from monkish doggerel like this to the French dramas, which, after being first played privately at the houses of some of the nobility, soon reached the general public, and created the demand for a theatre. In 1698 the old Mint House, which stood in the Place de la Monnaie, at that time a narrow thoroughfare blocked up by wooden buildings, was bought by an architect, Jean Paul Bombarda. He obtained leave to erect a 'Hôtel des Spectacles,' and was granted a monopoly of playing operas and comedies, and giving balls, for thirty years from January, 1705. But one manager after another failed, and it seemed as if the theatre must close its doors, when the actors themselves formed in 1766 a company on the model of the Comédie Française, which afterwards received a subsidy from the city. From that time the fortunes of the Théâtre de la Monnaie, now so well known, began to mend. The present building dates from 1817.

It was during the peaceable reign of Maria Theresa—peaceable, at least, so far as the soil of Belgium was concerned—that the theatre became so popular in Brussels. Brabant was then free from the troubles which had so often interfered with progress in more important things than the stage; and the people of the capital were kept in good-humour by the popularity of Duke Charles of Lorraine, who became Governor of the Austrian Netherlands in 1741.

In March, 1744, he came to live permanently in Brussels, accompanied by his wife, the Archduchess Marie, sister of Maria Theresa. They entered by the Allée Verte, then and for a long time after the fashionable promenade of Brussels. A battalion of the English Horse Guards was drawn up on the meadows at the side of the avenue. The Duke reviewed these troops; and then the cavalcade started along that green way from the Palace of Laeken, which so many joyful bands have trodden. The Horse Guards led the procession. Then came Charles of Lorraine in a carriage, followed by Ministers of State, and the lords and gentlemen of the Court, attended by some squadrons of English cavalry. At the Porte de Laeken, the burgomaster, kneeling reverently, presented the keys of the city in a silver basin. Thence they went through the streets to the Hôtel de Ville, and up the Rue de la Montagne to the Church of Ste. Gudule, where they were received by the Cardinal Archbishop of Malines and his clergy, who said mass. In the evening every street and square in Brussels blazed with illuminations.

That day was the beginning of a long period of gaiety for the pleasure-loving city. No ruler could have suited the people of Brussels better than Charles of Lorraine. The annals of his time are full of merrymaking, the accounts of which enable us, perhaps better than graver histories do, to understand the Court of the Austrian Netherlands in the long reign of Maria Theresa.

In February, 1752, we find the Duke giving a 'Venetian Fête' in the palace of the Duc d'Arenberg, at which all the gay people in Brussels were present. There were four quadrilles, the first consisting of eight ladies and gentlemen dressed as gardeners, the second of pilgrims, the third and fourth of peasants and sailors. A masked supper followed the dancing, and at midnight all the company, still in their masks, drove in open carriages through the streets. The coachmen were masked, as were the grooms who rode beside each carriage with torches, and so were the musicians who played before and after them on their way to the Théâtre de la Monnaie, where they danced and feasted and gambled till morning.

Charles of Lorraine lived generally at the château of Tervueren, where he spent large sums on stocking the woods and lakes with game and fish. 'What I must put in my park at Tervueren,' he notes in his private diary—'8 roe bucks, 150 hares, 100 pheasants, 4 wood cocks, 6 grey hens, 10 Guinea fowls, 50 partridges, 20 red partridges, 100 wild ducks. Of fish—600 tortoises, 300 crabs, 200 trout, 100 sturgeons.'

Every day he jotted down in his diary all his doings, all his petty cash payments, what the members of his Court did, and even the names of their mistresses. The Duc d'Arenberg gives jewels to La Nogentelle, a danseuse at the Monnaie. The Dutch Minister is ruining himself for La Cintray, another dancer; and the English Minister has lost his head over Mademoiselle Durancy. The Prince de Ligne and M. Androuins spent much time and money in company with the sisters Eugénie and Angélique d'Hannetaire. M. d'Hannetaire, the father of these young women, had begun life as a comedian in Brussels, and was now manager of the Monnaie. He had three daughters, who went in the demi-monde by the name of the Three Graces, and used their father's house as a place of assignation for gentlemen of quality. D'Hannetaire is said to have been luckier than most managers, and to have made a large fortune, much of it by the faro-table in the foyer of his theatre, where at that time heavy gambling went on every night.

Duke Charles was a great gourmet, and gave famous dinners, and, of course, makes a note of the wines. Burgundy was evidently his own favourite tipple. He drank at least a bottle at every meal; but there was Rhine wine, Champagne, Bordeaux, and Tokay for his guests, not to speak of cognac, maraschino, and other liqueurs, all of the very best. He had red partridges sent from the Tyrol; and his cash-book records '114 livres paid to an express from Venice with a barrel of tunny-fish in oil, and for another express from Hamburg with a barrel of English oysters and black mussels.' In the official calendar of this jovial Prince the names of all who worked in his kitchen are given, from the head chef down to the turnspits. The name of the Chef Rôtisseur, curiously enough, was Rognon. The Comte de Sart held the important office of Grand Maître des Cuisines.

He was the darling of Brussels, and so much loved that in the year 1766, when he was very ill, the churches were never empty all day long, so many pious people went to pray for his recovery. When his health was restored there were all sorts of festivities: the fountains spouted wine; half the town got drunk; the Prince de Ligne had an ox roasted whole on the street in front of his mansion and given to the poor; and the first time the Duke appeared at the theatre there was so much applause that the performance was stopped, and his doctor, who was seen in a box, was cheered again and again for having cured his patient.