Yet when she looked inquiringly for church spires, or round towers, or grand castles, they were not there. The people, going to work, or ploughing in the soft fields, seemed poor folks. Indeed, no men or women that she saw, had any [[80]]gold on their persons. This, indeed, was the Belgic Land of long, long ago.
Eileen soon found that the inhabitants needed to be told of the good news of God, which the blessed Saint Patrick had taught the Irish. While she had enough to eat and drink, and plenty of pretty clothes to wear, she thought of the many people, who were not only poor, but who did not know of the Father in heaven. Why should she dwell in a rich castle, and dress in costly garments, when others were not only without these, but were also very ignorant.
So Eileen travelled through the country, and told the Belgian people the same good news from Heaven, which Saint Patrick had brought to her Irish ancestors. Wherever she went, she took one of her shamrocks with her, and taught the same lesson.
One of her plants, which she put into the ground, became the parent of others, in many varieties, so that the fields of Flanders were green, where once was only sterile sand. Cows and sheep found food, where, of old, was nothing but waste land. In time, the city of Ghent became a floral capital, with as wonderful a market for bulbs and blossoms, as Haarlem was for tulips and hyacinths, in Holland. These were rich in all the colors, with which the Father in Heaven had tinted the blooms of the field, and the opening buds of the fruit trees. [[81]]
The most astonishing change took place, wherever Eileen stayed long enough to gather a congregation of people. She patiently taught them the lesson, of which the shamrock was the symbol; and, in each of seven places, she left one of her chickens. Somehow, from the love that was left behind, by this good woman, and around each living creature, there grew up a church, and every one of these churches was given a name after the Irish princess, Saint Eileen, though often pronounced differently in Flemish. To this day, the people in seven cities of Belgium, cherish the memory of the sweet lady, who spent her life in blessing their fathers.
Yet the dream story and the fairy tale are scarce more wonderful than the historic reality of ancient Christian Ireland’s gifts to Belgium. The story-teller adds, for the benefit of older folk, that the dream story and the fairy tale are scarcely more wonderful than the historic reality of ancient Erin’s missionary gifts to Belgic Land. [[82]]
IX
WINE-CRUST, THE BLUE-BEARD OF FLANDERS
Ever so many centuries ago, when all Belgium was part of the great forests, that covered nearly all of northern Europe, there was a chief of a powerful tribe, who was named Halwyn; or, as we shall call him, Wine-Crust, or Crusty Wine. He was famous for loving three things, wine, women and song. Being a magician, he had great power over young maidens, many of whom thought they would like to marry him.