little travels and roadside sketches-第9章

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the　man；　his　master　dare　not　unbend。　　Look　at　him；　how　he　scowls　at

you　on　your　entering　an　inn…room；　think　how　you　scowl　yourself　to

meet　his　scowl。　　To…day；　as　we　were　walking　and　staring　about　the

place；　a　worthy　old　gentleman　in　a　carriage；　seeing　a　pair　of

strangers；　took　off　his　hat　and　bowed　very　gravely　with　his　old

powdered　head　out　of　the　window：　I　am　sorry　to　say　that　our　first

impulse　was　to　burst　out　laughingit　seemed　so　supremely

ridiculous　that　a　stranger　should　notice　and　welcome　another。



As　for　the　notion　that　foreigners　hate　us　because　we　have　beaten

them　so　often；　my　dear　sir；　this　is　the　greatest　error　in　the

world：　well…educated　Frenchmen　DO　NOT　BELIEVE　THAT　WE　HAVE　BEATEN

THEM。　　A　man　was　once　ready　to　call　me　out　in　Paris　because　I　said

that　we　had　beaten　the　French　in　Spain；　and　here　before　me　is　a

French　paper；　with　a　London　correspondent　discoursing　about　Louis

Buonaparte　and　his　jackass　expedition　to　Boulogne。　　〃He　was

received　at　Eglintoun；　it　is　true；〃　says　the　correspondent；　〃but

what　do　you　think　was　the　reason？　　Because　the　English　nobility

were　anxious　to　revenge　upon　his　person　（with　some　coups　de　lance）

the　checks　which　the　'grand　homme'　his　uncle　had　inflicted　on　us　in

Spain。〃



This　opinion　is　so　general　among　the　French；　that　they　would　laugh

at　you　with　scornful　incredulity　if　you　ventured　to　assert　any

other。　　Foy's　history　of　the　Spanish　War　does　not；　unluckily；　go

far　enough。　　I　have　read　a　French　history　which　hardly　mentions　the

war　in　Spain；　and　calls　the　battle　of　Salamanca　a　French　victory。

You　know　how　the　other　day；　and　in　the　teeth　of　all　evidence；　the

French　swore　to　their　victory　of　Toulouse：　and　so　it　is　with　the

rest；　and　you　may　set　it　down　as　pretty　certain；　1st；　That　only　a

few　people　know　the　real　state　of　things　in　France；　as　to　the

matter　in　dispute　between　us；　2nd；　That　those　who　do；　keep　the

truth　to　themselves；　and　so　it　is　as　if　it　had　never　been。



These　Belgians　have　caught　up；　and　quite　naturally；　the　French

tone。　　We　are　perfide　Albion　with　them　still。　　Here　is　the　Ghent

paper；　which　declares　that　it　is　beyond　a　doubt　that　Louis　Napoleon

was　sent　by　the　English　and　Lord　Palmerston；　and　though　it　states

in　another　part　of　the　journal　（from　English　authority）　that　the

Prince　had　never　seen　Lord　Palmerston；　yet　the　lie　will　remain

uppermostthe　people　and　the　editor　will　believe　it　to　the　end　of

time。　。　。　。　　See　to　what　a　digression　yonder　little　fellow　in　the

tall　hat　has　given　rise！　　Let　us　make　his　picture；　and　have　done

with　him。





I　could　not　understand；　in　my　walks　about　this　place；　which　is

certainly　picturesque　enough；　and　contains　extraordinary　charms　in

the　shape　of　old　gables；　quaint　spires；　and　broad　shining　canals

I　could　not　at　first　comprehend　why；　for　all　this；　the　town　was

especially　disagreeable　to　me；　and　have　only　just　hit　on　the　reason

why。　　Sweetest　Juliana；　you　will　never　guess　it：　it　is　simply　this；

that　I　have　not　seen　a　single　decent…looking　woman　in　the　whole

place；　they　look　all　ugly；　with　coarse　mouths；　vulgar　figures；　mean

mercantile　faces；　and　so　the　traveller　walking　among　them　finds　the

pleasure　of　his　walk　excessively　damped；　and　the　impressions　made

upon　him　disagreeable。



In　the　Academy　there　are　no　pictures　of　merit；　but　sometimes　a

second…rate　picture　is　as　pleasing　as　the　best；　and　one　may　pass　an

hour　here　very　pleasantly。　　There　is　a　room　appropriated　to　Belgian

artists；　of　which　I　never　saw　the　like：　they　are；　like　all　the　rest

of　the　things　in　this　country；　miserable　imitations　of　the　French

schoolgreat　nude　Venuses；　and　Junos　a　la　David；　with　the　drawing

left　out。





BRUGES。



The　change　from　vulgar　Ghent；　with　its　ugly　women　and　coarse

bustle；　to　this　quiet；　old；　half…deserted；　cleanly　Bruges；　was　very

pleasant。　　I　have　seen　old　men　at　Versailles；　with　shabby　coats　and

pigtails；　sunning　themselves　on　the　benches　in　the　walls；　they　had

seen　better　days；　to　be　sure；　but　they　were　gentlemen　still：　and　so

we　found；　this　morning；　old　dowager　Bruges　basking　in　the　pleasant

August　sun；　and　looking　if　not　prosperous；　at　least　cheerful　and

well…bred。　　It　is　the　quaintest　and　prettiest　of　all　the　quaint　and

pretty　towns　I　have　seen。　　A　painter　might　spend　months　here；　and

wander　from　church　to　church；　and　admire　old　towers　and　pinnacles；

tall　gables；　bright　canals；　and　pretty　little　patches　of　green

garden　and　moss…grown　wall；　that　reflect　in　the　clear　quiet　water。

Before　the　inn…window　is　a　garden；　from　which　in　the　early　morning

issues　a　most　wonderful　odor　of　stocks　and　wallflowers；　next　comes

a　road　with　trees　of　admirable　green；　numbers　of　little　children

are　playing　in　this　road　（the　place　is　so　clean　that　they　may　roll

in　it　all　day　without　soiling　their　pinafores）；　and　on　the　other

side　of　the　trees　are　little　old…fashioned；　dumpy；　whitewashed；

red…tiled　houses。　　A　poorer　landscape　to　draw　never　was　known；　nor

a　pleasanter　to　seethe　children　especially；　who　are　inordinately

fat　and　rosy。　　Let　it　be　remembered；　too；　that　here　we　are　out　of

the　country　of　ugly　women：　the　expression　of　the　face　is　almost

uniformly　gentle　and　pleasing；　and　the　figures　of　the　women；

wrapped　in　long　black　monk…like　cloaks　and　hoods；　very　picturesque。

No　wonder　there　are　so　many　children：　the　〃Guide…book〃　（omniscient

Mr。　Murray！）　says　there　are　fifteen　thousand　paupers　in　the　town；

and　we　know　how　such　multiply。　　How　the　deuce　do　their　children

look　so　fat　and　rosy？　　By　eating　dirt…pies；　I　suppose。　　I　saw　a

couple　making　a　very　nice　savory　one；　and　another　employed　in

gravely　sticking　strips　of　stick　betwixt　the　pebbles　at　the　house…

door；　and　so　making　for　herself　a　stately　garden。　　The　men　and

women　don't　seem　to　have　much　more　to　do。　　There　are　a　couple　of

tall　chimneys　at　either　suburb　of　the　town；　where　no　doubt

manufactories　are　at　work；　but　within　the　walls　everybody　seems

decently　idle。



We　have　been；　of　course；　abroad　to　visit　the　lions。　　The　tower　in

the　Grand　Place　is　very　fine；　and　the　bricks　of　which　it　is　built

do　not　yield　a　whit　in　color　to　the　best　stone。　　The　great　building

round　this　tower　is　very　like　the　pictures　of　the　Ducal　Palace　at

Venice；　and　there　is　a　long　market　area；　with　columns　down　the

middle；　from　which　hung　shreds　of　rather　lean…looking　meat；　that

would　do　wonders　under　the　hands　of　Cattermole　or　Haghe。　　In　the

tower　there　is　a　chime　of　bells　that　keep　ringing　perpetually。

They　not　only　play　tunes　of　themselves；　and　every　quarter　of　an

hour；　but　an　individual　performs　selections　from　popular　operas　on

them　at　certain　periods　of　the　morning；　afternoon；　and　evening。　　I

have　heard　to…day　〃Suoni　la　Tromba；〃　〃Son　Vergin　Vezzosa；〃　from　the

〃Puritani；〃　and　other　airs；　and　very　badly　they　were　played　too；

for　such　a　great　monster　as　a　tower…bell　cannot　be　expected　to

imitate　Madame　Grisi　or　even　Signor　Lablache。　　Other　churches

indulge　in　the　same　amusement；　so　that　one　may　come　here　and　live

in　melody　all　day　or　night；　like　the　young　woman　in　Moore's　〃Lalla

Rookh。〃



In　the　matter　of　art；　the　chief　attractions　of　Bruges　are　the

pictures　of　Hemling；　that　are　to　be　seen　in　the　churches；　the

hospital；　and　the　picture…gallery　of　the　place。　　There　are　no　more

pictures　of　Rubens　to　be　seen；　and；　indeed；　in　the　course　of　a

fortnight；　one　has　had　quite　enough　of　the　great　man　and　his

magnificent；　swaggering　canvases。　　What　a　difference　is　here　with

simple　Hemling　and　the　extraordinary　creations　of　his　pencil！　　The

hospital　is　particularly　rich　in　them；　and　the　legend　there　is　that

the　painter；　who　had　served　Charles　the　Bold　in　his　war　against　the

Swiss；　and　his　last　battle　and　defeat；　wandered　back　wounded　and

penniless　to　Bruges；　and　here　found　cure　and　shelter。



This　hospital　is　a　noble　and　curious　sight。　　The　great　hall　is

almost　as　it　was　in　the　twelfth　century；　it　is　spanned　by　Saxon

arches；　and　lighted　by　a　multiplicity　of