The most delightful of Flemish painters was Quentin Matsys. He began life as a blacksmith, and the city possesses some fine ironwork done by him in youth. Fortunately for the world, he fell in love with an artist’s daughter. The artist would not give his daughter to a blacksmith, and declared that she must marry a painter. So Quentin Matsys immediately began to paint, and he very soon painted much better than his future father-inlaw! In the Cathedral is a tablet to his memory on which are inscribed the words:
“’Twas love connubial taught the smith to paint.”
Antwerp has always been one of the fighting fortresses of the world. We must, however, remember that it was far easier to defend the little old Antwerp of the Middle Ages than the big modern city.
I think the most interesting thing about the Antwerp of the past is that Godfrey de Bouillon, of whom I am sure some of you must have heard, started from there for the Holy Land, where he was to die bearing the fine title of “Baron and Defender of the Holy Sepulchre.”
Antwerp went through many terrible trials before this last siege—in fact, so cruelly was it treated about five hundred years ago that the episode still lives in history as “the Spanish Fury.”
In the middle of the French Revolution Antwerp became French. Napoleon delighted in its possession, and uttered the famous words, “Antwerp is a pistol aimed at the heart of England!” He found it, however, as we believe the Germans will find it, of as little or of as much use as an unloaded pistol; and in due course he had to give it up, just as the Germans will have to give it up.
It is strange now to reflect that a British Army besieged Antwerp in 1814, when it was splendidly defended by the French.
War is full of curious, funny, and terrible incidents.
Before Antwerp surrendered to the enemy, everything was destroyed that could possibly be of any use to the German hosts. Among other things so treated were hundreds of motor-cars. Some, of course, had seen a good deal of service and were old, but there were some splendid new ones too. An energetic Belgian officer had them all brought together in a square, and then he set strong men, including as many blacksmiths as he was able to find, to carry out the job of putting the motors out of action. They fell to their work of destruction with a will, puncturing tires, hammering cylinders, and wrenching gears.
Tons and tons of excellent corn were also emptied out into the river, and the cold-storage apparatus of the town, which enabled meat and all perishable foods to be kept for an indefinite time, was also destroyed. All the ships in the fine harbour were made useless by their boilers being smashed up. Thus, when the Germans walked in expecting to find everything nice and comfortable, they discovered that the town was but an empty husk.