The Spell of Belgium Part 2

Although the palace was so stately, and the doorkeeper wore a decoration on his livery, and the footmen were in maroon and shorts, with showy little gold shoulder-knots, the dinner was simple and well done, and so like one at home that it was really delightful. We pa.s.sed up the fine staircase, with the balcony opening above and the plants as in a winter garden, and through salons in which chairs were arranged in the formal way that they affect abroad. The Prince and the Princess received us cordially, and, after dinner, we went into a small _fumoir_ in which were hung tapestries that had been in the family for four centuries.

We were taken one day by the Princesse de Ligne to visit the palace of the d'Arenbergs in Brussels, which was the finest in the city next to the King's. The great staircase was the most beautiful that I have ever seen--in its proportions and in the splendour of its marbles. The rooms were palatial, and there were so many wonderful tapestries and famous pictures! We saw the suite with a private entrance for royalties, where the Kaiser's son Adelbert had been a guest a few days before.

Notwithstanding all this glory the bathrooms had tubs for which the water had to be heated by gas in a stove. The old wing of the palace, which had belonged to Count Egmont in the sixteenth century, was burned some time ago, and many of his possessions were destroyed, notably the desk at which he wrote. The d.u.c.h.esse d'Arenberg is the daughter of the Princesse de Ligne. The Duke is a German, and I have been told that before the war he removed all their superb collection to Germany. It is reported that extraordinary things went on beneath that roof previous to the invasion.

Among the old n.o.bility of Belgium is a member called Comte Vilain XIIII.

There is a curious tradition in regard to the origin of this t.i.tle.

When Louis XIV was in Belgium, during his Flemish campaign, it was discovered one evening that there were but thirteen to sit down at his table. The King was too superst.i.tious to allow this, so sent out an aide to find some one to make the fourteenth. Of course only n.o.blemen sat at the King's table, but as the aide was unable to find any one of suitable rank he brought in a wayfarer, or villain. The King at once enn.o.bled him, calling him Comte Vilain XIIII, and the t.i.tle is still written in this way.

[Ill.u.s.tration: M. CARTON DE WIART, MINISTER OF JUSTICE.]

Of the many "official" dinners that we attended one was with the Minister of the Interior, M. Berryer, who is a brilliant man. We also dined with Minister of State Beernaert, one of the wonderful old men of Europe, eighty-three years old when we were there, but quite alert and still an able statesman.

Another dinner was given for us by M. Carton de Wiart, the Minister of Justice, and a writer of much ability. He was a member of the commission that came over here from Belgium in the autumn of 1914. This dinner was rather different from others that we had attended, for it was made up of the deputies. It was quite interesting to meet this entirely different cla.s.s of men, whom I found to be very intelligent. Among the guests was a nice old man, whom all the deputies of the Right called "Uncle." There were also dinners, of course, with the Minister of Foreign Affairs and other officials, as well as the diplomats, all of which I remember with pleasure.

The reception to the foreign ministers at a quarter-past ten New Year's morning was postponed on account of the King's indisposition. So L. went off to write in the King's and the Queen's books, which had to be protected by the crimson-liveried servants against the throng of people who were struggling to reach them.

Among other functions the b.a.l.l.s at the "Concert n.o.ble" were very enjoyable; the music was good, and the vast a.s.sembly room was handsome and not crowded. The lofty suite of salons made an effective setting for the dancing. One night when we were there, the entrance was lined with men in gold and black, and the King and Queen came in, followed by gentlemen-in-waiting. They took their seats upon a raised das, after walking through the rooms, and watched the dancing for a time. When supper was ready everybody stood about, and the King and Queen talked with different people.

The life of the American Minister in Brussels, even in time of peace, was by no means all a round of social gaieties. While nothing of the greatest or most pressing importance came up in our relations with Belgium, yet there were questions of commerce and questions of policy to be kept constantly in mind, and reports to be made from time to time to the home Government, not to speak of countless interruptions from Americans who, for one reason or another, were in need of the kind offices of their representative. For instance, according to Belgian law, vagabonds without money, but who might be absolutely innocent of crime, could be sent to the workhouse for two years, and sometimes American sailors landing at Antwerp would be left there without a cent. Our kind-hearted Consul General used his influence to have them set free; but then what was to be done with them?

Among our countrymen who came to the Legation, however, were many welcome visitors and not a few whom we had met in far distant parts of the world. There was Governor Pack, of the mountain province in the Philippines. The last time L. had seen him, he was ruling supreme among the head-hunting Igorrotes at Bontoc. With a small handful of brave and resourceful men as lieutenants, he had in a few years brought those extraordinary aborigines into such willing subjection that their loyalty to the American was really devotion. He had been visiting the families of that company of wonderful Belgian priests who were doing so much good in his far-away mountain home--sons of rich parents, who had taken up the work in a spirit of pure self-sacrifice.

It is a curious thing that the men of affairs in Belgium--often some of the Ministers of State and the captains of industry--who were broad, up-to-date men, forceful and interesting, one seldom met socially. Even some of the King's _entourage_ could not join the Cercle du Parc, the most exclusive club in Brussels.

I had a reception day every Tuesday, beginning in January, besides which there were various times at which we received diplomats and t.i.tled Belgians by themselves. One of the most interesting figures was the Papal Nuncio, who came in his robes, with magenta cape and cap and gloves, wearing his ring outside. The concierge and a chauffeur waved his motor under the porte-cochere; two servants opened the doors _a double battant_; and L. met him and escorted him upstairs, where we had tea and cakes.

On Washington's birthday we had another reception for Americans. The chancery was closed, the Stars and Stripes waved in all their glory over the door, and flowers were arranged around the bust of Washington in its niche high between the windows on the main landing of the staircase. We received about one hundred and forty guests--men, women, and children of all ages--in the room at the head of the stairs, where some of the tapestries were hung. It was a most democratic a.s.sembly--young schoolgirls, teachers, most of the regular "colony,"

American women who had married Belgians--and they seemed to enjoy the dancing, to American airs. On the table in the dining-room was a splendid cake of many stories, all flag-bedecked--every one of the flags was proudly carried off before the afternoon was over.

For a change from the official routine and the formal entertainments, we often started out on a rainy evening and walked the glistening boulevards down into the town, so gay with its brilliantly lighted shops and restaurants. Having been duly advised by our Secretary of Legation of a respectable place to which diplomats "might" go, we sought it out and had happy little dinners together, forgetting our troubles for the time.

Perhaps the most delightful day I spent in Brussels was at Laeken. The Summer Palace stood on a hill overlooking the city, and was built of gray stone in Renaissance style. The greenhouses, which were erected by old King Leopold, were supposed to be the largest in the world. One could walk for miles through covered gla.s.s walks, with climbing geraniums and fuchsias hanging from the roof and heliotrope filling the air with its perfume.

The place was at its best for the royal garden party in May. As the invitations said two o'clock, we had luncheon early and set out at half after one. Soon we were careering up the fine avenue du Parc Royal, zigzagging from one side to the other as different officials gave us conflicting directions. Farther on, the road skirted the splendid park of Laeken, and we could look out over wide sweeps of lawn with great ma.s.ses of trees and artificial waters winding in and out. Fine vistas led the eye up to the palace, which stood in a more formal setting of garden and terraces.

At the great gate in front of the palace, grenadiers in bearskin shakos stood guard, with uniformed officials and red-coated servants in gold lace and plumed hats. The palace was still unfinished, but looked very impressive. About it were great clumps of rhododendrons and magnificent lilacs.

The carriages stopped at the orangery, which had a long facade of stone columns and gla.s.s. Alighting, we pa.s.sed into a perfect wonderland. To each side of us stretched a wing of a palace of crystal, with three rows of enormous orange trees arcading promenades.

Beyond this we pa.s.sed into the great palm house, a vast dome with palms so huge that they seemed to lose themselves in the height of the rotunda. The people strolling beneath them looked quite like pygmies in contrast.

All the parterre was laid out with bright-coloured flowers. In a paved s.p.a.ce in the center was held the royal circle. When the King and Queen arrived, the people arranged themselves along the sides--the Diplomatic Corps, the ministry, and prominent Belgians--and a band played gaily while Their Majesties came down the line. The scene was really fairylike.

The circle lasted a long time, and we were beginning to weary of standing, when the royal party finally set out to make a tour of the greenhouses. The rest of us followed, glad of a chance to see the wonders of which we had heard so much--and wonders they were indeed, for who ever saw before a lovely chapel built entirely of gla.s.s?

First we pa.s.sed through a wide, two-aisled gallery with a forest of palms above and a rich display of pink and rose-coloured azaleas below.

Then down steps into long, narrow pa.s.sageways that were a bower as far as the eye could reach, gorgeous with climbing geraniums and lovely cinerarias. These galleries led one hither and thither, now in one direction, now in another, till both eye and mind were dazed with pleasure. We pa.s.sed through tunnels of blooming flowers, and there was no end to the astonishing glory of colour and beauty.

Here and there were little grottoes with mirrors, and fountains plashing; then more alleys, and another great house all aflame with azaleas. Steps led to the door of a pavilion. Here it was that King Leopold II had died.

Our progress was not rapid, as the King and Queen stopped frequently to speak to different people. But we finally made the tour and returned to the great rotunda, where I felt as if I were standing in an unreal world, inside a giant soap-bubble of many colours.

CHAPTER III

BRUSSELS BEFORE THE WAR

The social life of Brussels we found very interesting. That of the Court was simple but elegant, while that of the aristocracy was old-world and conservative to a degree. Indeed, it was much like that of the Faubourg in Paris. Outside of royalty and serene highnesses, every one "in society" was either a count or a baron. It certainly seemed strange to an American that not one was without a t.i.tle.

Another custom which struck one as odd was that of using t.i.tles in letters--they would often sign themselves "Countess So-and-So," or "Princess X." If a woman belonged to a fine family she would put "_nee_"

with her maiden name on her card.

An amusing travesty on t.i.tles occurred when our footman received letters addressed to the "Chief Cleaner of the Silver." I saw two cards which were even funnier than this, though. One bore the man's name and the t.i.tle, "The Secretary of the Secretary of the Minister of"--such a department. The other was a card of a Doctor A----, who had inscribed beneath his name, "Doctor for the Countess of B----'s stomach."

Hospitality generally took the form of afternoon teas. I have often been to as many as three or four in a day. They were always very ceremonial affairs, with all the servants turned out in style to receive me alone or perhaps two or three other guests.

During Lent people often received in the evening. Tea and cake and orangeade were served, while the guests sat and gossiped. At this season, we discovered, all the dinners had to have either fish or meat--not both--as it was a Roman Catholic country. Sundays, which are not Lenten days, gave them an opportunity for varying the festivities.

Dinners were given occasionally, and were always very formal and very long--really banquets--made up of a succession of rich dishes with a small gla.s.s of red or white wine with every course. The placing of guests at table was an extremely important matter, for every one must be seated strictly according to rank. One does not wonder that there were so few dinners, considering the difficulty of finding a group of congenial people who could dine together without dissatisfaction. Each was likely to think that he should have been given a higher place, and to go home feeling insulted instead of happy.

The favourite subjects among the women were children and the rainy weather; aside from gossip there was talk of little else. The men had no objection to sitting in silence, and were inclined to consider women who talked as chatterboxes. But for all that, they were very charming and high-bred and delightful to meet.

I should judge the Belgian sense of humour was not like ours. Many of them had a Latin wit, but as a race they were rather serious and conventional. They seemed to consider it bad form to have what we call a good time; all their entertainments were formal and dignified.

There was much in their character that was delightfully mediaeval. People in the highest position socially would say with perfect simplicity things that sounded very strange to our ears. A man of high rank and intelligence explained to me one day that the reason why the Belgians slept with their windows closed was that the early morning air was bad for the eyes! He was quite serious about it and seemed to think the excuse sufficient.

I believe some of them still imagined that our country had not reached even the first stages of civilization. A little gentlewoman whom I had engaged through a friend to act as secretary courtesied very prettily on being presented, but wasn't at all sure whether we were South Americans or not, and inquired rather anxiously whether I had ever before been away from my native land. She thought that I should always be accompanied when out walking.

I once asked an American lady who had married a Belgian what her adopted countrymen thought of Americans. She laughed and told me what happened when her husband took her home to his chateau as a bride, many years before. All the peasants and tradespeople of the village had turned out to greet them, and while they were evidently pleased, something in her appearance seemed to surprise them. Finally her husband asked some one if there was anything the matter. Very politely the man explained that since they had heard that their new countess came from America, they had all expected her to be black. The Count paused a moment, glancing at his wife, who was not only very beautiful but very blonde, and then answered gravely, "Oh, but you must not forget--it is winter now. My wife, she only turns black in summer!"

Before the war broke down the barriers between them, the Belgians and Dutch were much inclined to make fun of each other. The former said their neighbours were heavy, stupid and stiff. The Dutch retorted that the Belgians were so weak they could simply eat them up if they wished.

Quite the most important social event of the Brussels year was the Fancy Fair, which was given for the benefit of some charity. It came off in February and lasted four days. I had been asked to help on the flower table, where we sold not only flowers, real and artificial, but flower stands, vases, and perfumes. The shelves and tables were covered with mauve paper and velvet, and the effect was quite pretty. The fair was much like ours at home, and most of the men were afraid to attend. Some of the diplomats discreetly sent donations with their cards. The Queen was expected, but was ill at the last moment and the Comtesse de Flandre took her place, spending ten dollars at each table.

During the winter months Belgium sees little of the sun. All through April, too, they tell you, as a matter of course, "It is to rain." The weather is undoubtedly bad. In most countries the people stand up for their climate to some extent, but there they have to acknowledge that it is wretched. May can be delightful, as I discovered, with floods of sunshine everywhere. But even then there were cold, dreary days, and later in the month the chestnut trees turned brown and the flowers began to fade, so the spring is short enough at best.

I found the streets of Brussels always amusing, whether the sun was in or out. There were st.u.r.dy dogs pulling carts laden with shining bra.s.s and copper milk-cans, the occasional trumpet-call and tramp of soldiers, and the women selling baskets of flowers, as they do in Rome. The church bells rang at all hours, for the clocks did not any two of them agree, and were forever contradicting each other with their musical chimes.

As I have said before, Brussels was a model city, beautiful and well kept. In the center of the town was the superb Grande Place, second to none in Europe, with the Hotel de Ville, which was second only to that in Louvain, the galleried and much-gilded Maison du Roi, and the many guild-houses of the archers and skippers and printers and merchants. I am told that this historic square has been mined by the Germans, so that all its treasures of mediaeval architecture can be blown up at a moment's notice.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _A Flemish Kermesse_]

The Grande Place was at its best when there was a _kermesse_. Then the windows of the guild-halls and the long galleries of the Hotel de Ville--the glory of Brussels--were lined with people looking down into the square. Flags streamed from the buildings, and there was good music, and groups of happy burghers were drinking their beer at little tables.

After dark there was continuous illumination of the lovely spire of the Hotel de Ville, with varying coloured lights that showed its tracery and design in beautiful, mysterious relief--an entrancing sight.