The Spell of Belgium Part 1

The Spell of Belgium.

by Isabel Anderson.

FOREWORD

Belgium has contributed generously to the world in the past. Much has been destroyed in this ruthless war, but much remains, for Belgium had much to give. How splendid are her unique guild-halls with their fretted towers, her ma.s.sive mediaeval gates and quaint old houses bordering the winding ca.n.a.ls!

Through centuries, in one way or another, she has continued to hold the world's admiration. In olden times, when the clever weavers wrought historic scenes in their Flemish tapestries, they surely wove into the hearts of our forefathers the Spell of Belgium. In Belgium, the home of the violin, we have listened to the magic strains of the great masters and been charmed by the musical verses of Maeterlinck. There, too, we have gazed upon her inimitable Rubens and van Eycks. But today we stand spellbound before the Belgians themselves, the heroes of this war.

The legends of Antwerp were written out by the eminent Flemish historian, Sleeckx, over fifty years ago, and were found in the library at Antwerp. This version has been translated directly from the Flemish, and is believed to be unknown to the world, outside of Antwerp literary circles.

I wish to thank Her Excellency, Madame Havenith, wife of the Belgian Minister in the United States, for information, letters and photographs, and Mrs. Abbot L. Dow, whose father, General Sanford, was one of the most popular American Ministers ever in Belgium, as well as Miss Helen North, who lived for many years in that beautiful country. I wish, also, to thank the _National Magazine_ for the use of a portion of the chapter on Motoring in Flanders. My thanks are due to Miss Gilman and Miss Crosby, too, for their kind a.s.sistance.

CHAPTER I

THE NEW POST

The winter which I spent in Belgium proved a unique niche in my experience, for it showed me the daily life and characteristics of a people of an old civilization as I could never have known them from casual meetings in the course of ordinary travel.

My husband first heard of his nomination as Minister to Belgium over the telephone. We were at Beverly, which was the summer capital that year, when he was told that his name was on the list sent from Washington.

Although he had been talked of for the position, still in a way his appointment came as a surprise, and a very pleasant one, too, for we had been a.s.sured that "Little Paris" was an attractive post, and that Belgium was especially interesting to diplomats on account of its being the c.o.c.kpit of Europe. After receiving this first notification, L.

called at the "Summer White House" in Beverly, and later went to Washington for instructions. It was not long before we were on our way to the new post.

Through a cousin of my husband's who had married a Belgian, the Comte de Buisseret, we were able to secure a very nice house in Brussels, the Palais d'a.s.sche. As it was being done over by the owners, I remained in Paris during the autumn, waiting until the work should be finished. My husband, of course, went directly to Brussels, and through his letters I was able to gain some idea of what our life there was to be. He lived for the time being in the Legation which had been rented by the former Minister. Through another cousin, who had been American Minister there a few years before, he secured much valuable information regarding his new mission. I say new, because he had been in the Service for twelve years before this--at first, as Second Secretary of Legation and afterward of Emba.s.sy in London; then as First Secretary of Emba.s.sy and Charge d'Affaires in Rome.

The royal family had not returned to town, so he was compelled to wait for an opportunity to present his credentials. Finally, however, he received a notification that the King of the Belgians would grant him a special audience at eleven o'clock on the eighteenth of November.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE ROYAL PALACE, BRUSSELS.]

The ceremonial proved to be most interesting, everything perfectly done and very impressive. Two state carriages of gala, accompanied by outriders, came to the Legation a few minutes before eleven, bringing Colonel Derouette, commanding officer of the Grenadiers, who was met at the door by the Secretary of Legation, Mr. Grant-Smith. L. was escorted to the great state coach, "which swung on its springs like a channel-crossing steamer."

The steps were folded up, the door closed, the footmen jumped up behind, and the little procession of prancing horses in gorgeous harness, with two outriders on high-steppers, proceeded. Following this carriage--which, by the way, was elaborately decorated and gilded, and had lamps at all four corners--came the second state carriage with the Secretary and the Military Attache.

Pa.s.sing through the broad, clean streets of the city, they soon entered the wide square before the palace. This building, which is almost entirely new within the last few years, stood behind parterres of sunken gardens, beyond a broad _place_, with the old park opposite, through which there was a vista with the House of Parliament at the other end.

The guard of carabineers was turned out as the procession pa.s.sed, and their bugles sounded the salute. The state carriages continued on through the fast-gathering crowd, crossed the sunken garden, and entered the porte-cochere of the palace, where a group of officials stood at attention. L. was escorted up to the entrance and into the great gallery, where were the major-domo and a line of footmen in royal red livery.

At the foot of the grand staircase stood two officers in full uniform, one wearing the delightfully old-fashioned, short green embroidered jacket and the cherry-coloured trousers of the smart Guides Regiment.

When they had been presented, they turned and led the way up the great staircase. At the top another aide of the King, Baron de Moor, a strikingly handsome man who looked stunning in his uniform and decorations, met them. Then in continued procession they pa.s.sed through great rooms, which were simple yet splendidly palatial in style, with fine paintings and frescos, but with little furniture.

Finally L. came to a room where the King's Master of Ceremonies, Comte Jean de Merode, came forward, and was presented. He disappeared through a door, saying that he would go and take the King's orders, and returned immediately with the word that His Majesty was ready.

"The doors were opened _a double battant_ by servants standing at each side," L. wrote in his letter describing the audience; "I was rather taken by surprise, for the room into which I was being ushered was a vast apartment, and not like the small state rooms in which on previous occasions I had been introduced for reception by royalty. The officials took their positions at a distance, in a semi-circle, so that any conversation could have been entirely confidential. I advanced, making my three bows.

"The King is a tall, fine, clean-looking man. He was dressed in simple military uniform, wearing but one star."

L. expressed his appreciation for the granting of the audience and the opportunity it gave of presenting his letters of credence, as well as his predecessor's letters of recall, and of conveying a message of greeting from the President of the United States with a.s.surances of the sympathetic interest of the American people in Belgium's progress.

When the King had received the letters and handed them to a gentleman-in-waiting, he conversed with my husband in a very low tone, speaking of his visit of fifteen years ago in America, and of his admiration for the American people and for their great advances in matters of science and hygiene, especially of the successful sanitary work which we had accomplished in Panama.

They talked of the house which we had taken, and the King said that he had lived in it for nine years, and that all of his children had been born there. He expressed his admiration for President Taft, and said that he very frequently read his speeches and wished to send a message in return in acknowledgment of the President's greetings.

When the King indicated that the audience was over, the party bowed itself backward out of the room, and the procession re-formed in the next salon. L. had been notified that immediately after his audience with the King he would be received by Her Majesty the Queen. So the procession pa.s.sed in similar order through a series of salons and corridors, the different gentlemen leaving him at the points where they had met him on his entry, their places being taken by others of the Queen's _entourage_. So they came to a smaller but still handsome suite of apartments, where the Queen's Master of Ceremonies met them. He also disappeared through a door to take Her Majesty's orders, and returned to say that my husband was to be received at once. As the room was not so large as that in which the King had received him, the approach to the Queen was easier.

"The Queen is pet.i.te and charming," he wrote me; "from what those who escorted me said, she is looking very much stronger than she has since a recent serious illness. They all seem to be delighted at her recovery.

She is exceedingly sweet and gracious, and speaks with a little manner of shyness. She was very simply dressed in what I should call a rose chiffon with a little scarf of black and white chiffon over her shoulders. (I hear she is very fond of pretty clothes.) She asked about the President, and I told her of his health and activities, and of his trip through the states. Her Majesty also spoke of the Palais d'a.s.sche and of their life in it, asked after you, Isabel, and spoke of my cousin, Caroline de Buisseret. I tried as best I could to answer her gentle inquiries."

During the afternoon L. and his secretary made visits on the court officials and the chief members of the Government, leaving cards on the Queen's ladies-in-waiting and grand-mistresses and on the members of the Cabinet, as well as on the Governor of Brabant, and on Burgomaster Max.

He was received by the Papal Nuncio, the _Doyen_ of the Diplomatic Corps, with much ceremony, and found him to be a typical, good-looking priest.

Burgomaster Max has had an interesting career since we met him in Brussels. Before his day there were two famous burgomasters who had served their city with special distinction. The first was Chevalier de Locquenghieu who, in 1477, had the Willebroeck Ca.n.a.l built, through which the Prince of Orange made his entry into town. The second was Baron de Perch, who was chosen seven times to serve as burgomaster when the glory of Brussels was at its height, early in the seventeenth century. By their side today stands a third--Monsieur Adolphe Max.

When the German army was approaching the city it was he who discussed the situation with the American Minister, Mr. Brand Whitlock, and with the Spanish Minister, Marquis Villaloba, as the King and his Cabinet had already removed to Antwerp. They all agreed that, with the troops available, the city could only hold out for a short time against the Germans, that many lives would be sacrificed, and art treasures and historic buildings destroyed. Brussels must surrender.

[Ill.u.s.tration: BURGOMASTER MAX.]

Soon after entering the city the German general sent for Max. When he came into the room the general pulled out a revolver and thumped it down on the table. Looking him straight in the eye, the burgomaster pulled out a pen and thumped that down on the table beside the general's weapon. The challenge of the pen and the gun--which, I wonder, will prove stronger in the end?

Under the Germans the life of the city continued peacefully, although somewhat changed. The new rulers issued paper money for war currency.

The citizens were expected to pay their tradesmen with it, and were a.s.sured that it was "just as good as gold." But when Burgomaster Max offered it to the German general as payment of the huge indemnity required of Brussels it was refused, and gold demanded instead. Max later had trouble with the authorities, and as he had made several speeches to the populace he was sent to a prison in Germany. The last I heard of him he was still there.

Not long after my husband's presentation at Court came the King's name-day, an occasion for fetes and gala. The streets were gay with marching soldiers and people in their best clothes. There was a Te Deum at the church of St. Gudule, and of course the Diplomatic Corps went in full dress uniform to do honour to the King. Their carriages joined in the procession, while the cavalry deployed about and escorted the state officials. At the church doors officers received the arrivals, and as each Minister pa.s.sed inside the portal the orders rang out in the quiet church. There was a clank of arms as a guard of honour, standing on each side of the transept aisle, came to "present arms," and a ruffle of drums.

When the Queen came--the King did not attend--she was met by the Papal Nuncio and prelates and escorted by priests, while the band played a solemn march with slow beat of drums. So she pa.s.sed up into the chancel, bowing to the altar and to the diplomats and the Ministers of State.

Then she pa.s.sed beneath the baldachino with the King's mother, the Comtesse de Flandre, and the little Crown Prince, the Duc de Brabant, who was all in white. About them knelt the gentlemen- and ladies-in-waiting.

The priests intoned before the altar, and the music took up the beautiful and impressive service, part of which dates back eight hundred years. High at one end a choir and orchestra were in a gallery, and joined the great organ in filling the vaults with lovely harmonies as the ma.s.s proceeded, while the scent of incense rose through the soft haze of the interior to the famous stained-gla.s.s windows above.

The Queen sat beneath her canopy at the side of the high altar with her little court surrounding her, the diplomats in their full regalia were in a group at one side, the Ministers of State in their uniforms in a group at the other, with the judges of the court in their scarlet robes which made bright splashes of colour. The military music resounded in slow marches and re-echoed through the s.p.a.ces where candles only dimly lighted the shadows.

When they came out of church they noticed above them, floating in the sky, a great dirigible balloon, manoeuvering majestically over the city, silent and impressive. How little did they think that similar balloons would so soon be dropping bombs upon their peaceful country!

That evening the Minister of Foreign Affairs gave a gala dinner in honour of the King's fete-day, and all the Chiefs of Mission and some of the court dignitaries attended. Madame Davignon, wife of the Minister, a handsome and distinguished woman, received with His Excellency. The gathering was impressive, and the diplomatic uniforms were rich with gold lace and decorations. Madame Davignon presided at this dinner of men only, the Minister sitting opposite her at the U-shaped table. Some plenipotentiaries were accredited to Paris as well as to Brussels, and came on for special functions. Although these were mostly South Americans, they were very fine in their regalia, as were also the Turks in their fezzes and the Persians in their astrakhan hats. After dinner there was a real "_recivimento_," when distinguished people came in to pay their respects to the Minister of Foreign Affairs without invitation, as used to be the custom in Rome.

A few days after that L. made up a little party and ran out to Termeire, the de Buisseret chateau. The motor trip took about an hour and a half, the car running smoothly and swiftly between villages and jiggling over the famous Belgian blocks that pave the towns. The country was like France, with the ditches on either side of the road and the rows of trees, and like Holland, too, with its ca.n.a.ls. About the chateau there was an extensive park with game, where they hunted in the autumn, and _etangs_ and bridges and fine old trees.[1]

[1] The story of the de Buisseret misfortunes since the war began has been a sad one, like that of many of the Belgian aristocracy. Their chateau, which we visited so often, has been destroyed, Madame de Buisseret has died, and the children are scattered.

After luncheon they visited the lovely chateau of the Duc d'Ursel, where they met the d.u.c.h.ess, who has been in Paris since the war began, having established there the Franco-American OEuvre des Soldats Belges. They also met the charming, old-world d.u.c.h.ess Dowager. From there they ran along the banks of the Scheldt to the Pavillon, a most interesting little building, both in architecture and decoration.

It may be that there were more chateaux in the south, in the Walloon provinces, but Flanders was by no means lacking in fine old houses.

Melis, the Edmond de Beughems' place, was quite enchanting. A long avenue of deep trees brought one to a stone gateway with the family arms sculptured above it, and fortified walled buildings stretching away on either side. Crossing a garden and a moat, one came to the entrance of the quaintest little old chateau imaginable.

On one side its gray walls dipped straight down into the moat, while on the other were green lawns and bright-coloured gardens, with splendid overhanging trees and a still lagoon with white floating swans. Beyond the deep, protecting waters were the forests of the park, with long alleys leading the eye to far-away vistas.