little travels and roadside sketches-第5章
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we passed by these quiet pastures。
Steam…engines and their accompaniments; blazing forges; gaunt
manufactories; with numberless windows and long black chimneys; of
course take away from the romance of the place but; as we whirled
into Brussels; even these engines had a fine appearance。 Three or
four of the snorting; galloping monsters had just finished their
journey; and there was a quantity of flaming ashes lying under the
brazen bellies of each that looked properly lurid and demoniacal。
The men at the station came out with flaming torchesawful…looking
fellows indeed! Presently the different baggage was handed out;
and in the very worst vehicle I ever entered; and at the very
slowest pace; we were borne to the 〃Hotel de Suede;〃 from which
house of entertainment this letter is written。
We strolled into the town; but; though the night was excessively
fine and it was not yet eleven o'clock; the streets of the little
capital were deserted; and the handsome blazing cafes round about
the theatres contained no inmates。 Ah; what a pretty sight is the
Parisian Boulevard on a night like this! how many pleasant hours
has one passed in watching the lights; and the hum; and the stir;
and the laughter of those happy; idle people! There was none of
this gayety here; nor was there a person to be found; except a
skulking commissioner or two (whose real name in French is that of
a fish that is eaten with fennel…sauce); and who offered to conduct
us to certain curiosities in the town。 What must we English not
have done; that in every town in Europe we are to be fixed upon by
scoundrels of this sort; and what a pretty reflection it is on our
country that such rascals find the means of living on us!
Early the next morning we walked through a number of streets in the
place; and saw certain sights。 The Park is very pretty; and all
the buildings round about it have an air of neatnessalmost of
stateliness。 The houses are tall; the streets spacious; and the
roads extremely clean。 In the Park is a little theatre; a cafe
somewhat ruinous; a little palace for the king of this little
kingdom; some smart public buildings (with S。 P。 Q。 B。 emblazoned
on them; at which pompous inscription one cannot help laughing);
and other rows of houses somewhat resembling a little Rue de
Rivoli。 Whether from my own natural greatness and magnanimity; or
from that handsome share of national conceit that every Englishman
possesses; my impressions of this city are certainly anything but
respectful。 It has an absurd kind of Lilliput look with it。 There
are soldiers; just as in Paris; better dressed; and doing a vast
deal of drumming and bustle; and yet; somehow; far from being
frightened at them; I feel inclined to laugh in their faces。 There
are little Ministers; who work at their little bureaux; and to read
the journals; how fierce they are! A great thundering Times could
hardly talk more big。 One reads about the rascally Ministers; the
miserable Opposition; the designs of tyrants; the eyes of Europe;
&c。; just as one would in real journals。 The Moniteur of Ghent
belabors the Independent of Brussels; the Independent falls foul of
the Lynx; and really it is difficult not to suppose sometimes that
these worthy people are in earnest。 And yet how happy were they
sua si bona norint! Think what a comfort it would be to belong to
a little state like this; not to abuse their privilege; but
philosophically to use it。 If I were a Belgian; I would not care
one single fig about politics。 I would not read thundering
leading…articles。 I would not have an opinion。 What's the use of
an opinion here? Happy fellows! do not the French; the English;
and the Prussians; spare them the trouble of thinking; and make all
their opinions for them? Think of living in a country free; easy;
respectable; wealthy; and with the nuisance of talking politics
removed from out of it。 All this might the Belgians have; and a
part do they enjoy; but not the best part; no; these people will be
brawling and by the ears; and parties run as high here as at Stoke
Pogis or little Pedlington。
These sentiments were elicited by the reading of a paper at the
cafe in the Park; where we sat under the trees for a while and
sipped our cool lemonade。 Numbers of statues decorate the place;
the very worst I ever saw。 These Cupids must have been erected in
the time of the Dutch dynasty; as I judge from the immense
posterior developments。 Indeed the arts of the country are very
low。 The statues here; and the lions before the Prince of Orange's
palace; would disgrace almost the figurehead of a ship。
Of course we paid our visit to this little lion of Brussels (the
Prince's palace; I mean)。 The architecture of the building is
admirably simple and firm; and you remark about it; and all other
works here; a high finish in doors; wood…works; paintings; &c。;
that one does not see in France; where the buildings are often
rather sketched than completed; and the artist seems to neglect the
limbs; as it were; and extremities of his figures。
The finish of this little place is exquisite。 We went through some
dozen of state…rooms; paddling along over the slippery floors of
inlaid woods in great slippers; without which we must have come to
the ground。 How did his Royal Highness the Prince of Orange manage
when he lived here; and her Imperial Highness the Princess; and
their excellencies the chamberlains and the footmen? They must
have been on their tails many times a day; that's certain; and must
have cut queer figures。
The ball…room is beautifulall marble; and yet with a comfortable;
cheerful look; the other apartments are not less agreeable; and the
people looked with intense satisfaction at some great lapis…lazuli
tables; which the guide informed us were worth four millions; more
or less; adding with a very knowing look; that they were un peu
plus cher que l'or。 This speech has a tremendous effect on
visitors; and when we met some of our steamboat companions in the
Park or elsewherein so small a place as this one falls in with
them a dozen times a day〃Have you seen the tables?〃 was the
general question。 Prodigious tables are they; indeed! Fancy a
table; my deara table four feet widea table with legs。 Ye
heavens! the mind can hardly picture to itself anything so
beautiful and so tremendous!
There are some good pictures in the palace; too; but not so
extraordinarily good as the guide…books and the guide would have us
to think。 The latter; like most men of his class; is an ignoramus;
who showed us an Andrea del Sarto (copy or original); and called it
a Correggio; and made other blunders of a like nature。 As is the
case in England; you are hurried through the rooms without being
allowed time to look at the pictures; and; consequently; to
pronounce a satisfactory judgment on them。
In the Museum more time was granted me; and I spent some hours with
pleasure there。 It is an absurd little gallery; absurdly imitating
the Louvre; with just such compartments and pillars as you see in
the noble Paris gallery; only here the pillars and capitals are
stucco and white in place of marble and gold; and plaster…of…paris
busts of great Belgians are placed between the pillars。 An artist
of the country has made a picture containing them; and you will be
ashamed of your ignorance when you hear many of their names。 Old
Tilly of Magdeburg figures in one corner; Rubens; the endless
Rubens; stands in the midst。 What a noble countenance it is; and
what a manly; swaggering consciousness of power!
The picture to see here is a portrait; by the great Peter Paul; of
one of the governesses of the Netherlands。 It is just the finest
portrait that ever was seen。 Only a half…length; but such a
majesty; such a force; such a splendor; such a simplicity about it!
The woman is in a stiff black dress; with a ruff and a few pearls;
a yellow c