Belgium, Vol. 1 (of 2)

by Sir James Emerson Tennent

Not far from the belfry, is the Friday market (Marché de Vendredi), “the forum” of ancient Ghent, where all its municipal ceremonies were solemnized, and all its popular assemblies were convened, to the tolling of their favourite bell; in which, also, the Counts of Flanders took the oath of inauguration, on their accession to the sovereignty. It was here that John Lyon convened his guild of watermen, and persuaded them to assume the old symbol of revolt, the white hood, in order to resist the exactions of Louis le Mael; and it was here that John Breydel, another fiery demagogue, marshalled his band of “lion’s claws” in 1300, and led them to the “Battle of the Spurs” at Courtrai; and it was here that Jacques van Artevelde, at the head of his “trades’ union,” was proclaimed Ruwaert of Flanders. It was here that the commotions, so quaintly detailed by Froissart, took place between the fullers and the weavers, on Black Monday, in 1345, when the latter were expelled from Ghent, after leaving fifteen hundred of their number dead in the streets; and it was here that, in later times, the ferocious Duke of Alva lit the flames of the inquisition, and consumed the contumacious protestants of the Low Countries.

In Ghent, almost every great event in the chronicles of the old city is, more or less, identified with the Marché de Vendredi. In the centre of its square, the citizens, in 1600, erected a column to the memory of Charles V, which was levelled by the French republicans in 1794, in order to plant the tree of liberty on its foundation.

In a recess of this market-place, stands the wonder of Ghent, “la merveille de Gand,” an enormous cannon of the fourteenth century, used by Philip van Artevelde, at the siege of Audenarde in 1382; but how it was ever dragged to the field, or manœuvred in the action, is one of the enigmas of ancient warfare, as it is upwards of eighteen feet long, ten inches in the diameter of the bore, and weighs thirty-nine thousand pounds. It is made of malleable iron, and is mentioned by Froissart as discharging balls during the siege, with a report which “was heard at five leagues distance by day, and ten by night,” and sounded as if “tous les diables d’enfer fussent en chemin.” It was brought from Audenarde to Ghent, having, I presume, been left upon the field by the discomfited Flemings. Its popular soubriquet is “Dulle Greite,” or Mad Margaret, in compliment to a Countess of Flanders, of violent memory, who is still known by the traditional title of “the Black Lady,” given to her by her subjects.

These and a thousand similar records and memorials of the olden time, render a stroll through the streets of Ghent, one of singular interest and amusement; and, perhaps, there is no city of Europe which more abounds in these relics of local history, or has preserved so many characteristics of manners and customs in keeping with its associations of the past.

CHAPTER III.

GHENT.

Manufacture of machinery in Ghent—Great works of the Phœnix—Exertions of the King of Holland to promote this branch of art—His success—Policy of England in permitting the export of tools—Effect of their prohibiting the export of machines upon the continental artists—Present state of the manufactures in Belgium—The Phœnix, its extent, arrangements and productions—The canal of Sas de Gand—The Beguinage—Tristam Shandy—The churches of Ghent—Religious animosity of the Roman Catholics—The cathedral of St. Bavon—Chef-d’œuvre of Van Eyck—Candelabra of Charles I—Carved pulpit—Church of St. Michael—Vandyck’s crucifixion—The The brotherhood of St. Ivoy—Church of St. Sauveur—Singular picture in the church of St. Peter—Dinner at M. Grenier’s—Shooting with the bow—Roads in Belgium—Domestic habits of the Flemings—The Flemish language—Count d’Hane—Mansion of the Countess d’Hane de Steenhausen—Gallery of M. Schamps—The University of Ghent—State of primary education in Belgium.

Having heard so much in England of the gigantic scale of the establishments for the construction of machinery in Belgium, we paid a visit this morning to the great Phœnix Iron works at Ghent, the largest in the kingdom; (indeed, I may presume, the largest in Europe), except those of Seraing near Liege. The surprising progress which the Belgians have, within the last few years, made in this department, is naturally a subject of the deepest interest in this country. Twenty years ago, the manufacturers of the Netherlands were altogether dependant upon France and England, for everything except the most ordinary pieces of machinery, which were used in the simplest processes—but the refusal of Great Britain, to permit its exportation upon any terms, naturally left them no alternative, but either to abandon their manufactures, or to apply their own ingenuity to the construction of machinery for themselves. To the encouragement of the latter attempt, the King of Holland, for the fifteen years that Belgium was under his protection, applied himself with an energy and zeal, that is positively without parallel; patronage, personal exertions, and pecuniary assistance, were devoted to the promotion of this important object, with an assiduity and perseverance almost incredible; his efforts were crowned with perfect success, and even his enemies, are forced to admit that the singular developement which has taken place in the resources of Belgium, in this important department, are all to be ascribed to the untiring energy and exertions of the King of Holland.

His efforts were much facilitated by the relaxation, in the meantime, of the policy of England, so far as to permit the free exportation of certain machinery, and what was of infinitely greater importance, of the most complex and ingenious tools for its construction. The effects of the latter measure, in particular, and the impetus which it has communicated to the manufacture of machinery, not only in Belgium, but in every other country of Europe which aspires to it, is positively beyond calculation. It gave, at once, to our continental rivals the very arcana of our superiority; tools that are themselves the most beautiful and elaborate machines, performing like automatons operations that once required all the intelligence as well as all the dexterity of an artisan; lathes and planes that grapple with a beam of iron as if it were green wood, and shape and polish the most ponderous shafts with as much ease as a turner produces an ivory toy.[16] Placing these unreservedly in the hands of the engineers of the continent, and, at the same time, refusing to let them have the articles which they were almost spontaneously to produce, was neither more nor less than peremptorily withholding the fruit, but making no compliment whatever of sending the tree.

The refusal of Great Britain to concede the whole question has, at all times, excited an intense feeling on the continent, and the Belgians themselves are amongst the loudest in denouncing this “jealous and narrow-minded policy of England;” forgetful that they themselves in 1814 adopted identically the same course, and prohibited under pain of fine and imprisonment the exit of their own machinery or artisans, such as they were! Even now, the value of that which England conceded, is forgotten in the importance attached to that which she still withholds, and even the appearance of mystery connected with the prohibition increases its importance in imagination and whets the appetite to obtain it. A whimsical illustration of their ideas upon the subject occurs in the work of M. Briavionne, who gravely asserts that “the manufacturers of Lancashire, impatient to participate in the cares of the government upon this point, have submitted to a voluntary tax sufficient to organize a perpetual guard, which surrounds Manchester night and day to prevent the exit of machinery.”[17]