Peeps At Many Lands: Belgium.

by George W. T. Omond.

CHAPTER I

THE SANDS OPPOSITE ENGLAND

If you leave the mouth of the Thames, or the white chalk cliffs at Dover, and sail over the water just where the English Channel meets the North Sea, you will in about three or four hours see before you a long expanse of yellow sand, and rising behind it a low ridge of sandhills, which look in the distance like a range of baby mountains.

These sandhills are called "dunes." Here and there at intervals you will see a number of little towns, each town standing by itself on the sh.o.r.e, and separated from its neighbour by a row of dunes and a stretch of sand.

This is your first view of the little country called Belgium, which is bounded on the east by Holland, and on the west by France. It is, from end to end, about half the size of Ireland.

There are no cliffs or rocks, no shingle or stones covered with seaweed. There are no trees. It is all bare sand, with moss and rushes on the higher ground above the beach. In winter the wind rages with terrific violence along the coast. The sand is blown in all directions, and the waves dash fiercely on the sh.o.r.e. It is cold and stormy, with mist and dark clouds, and sometimes violent showers of hail. But in summer all is changed. Often, week after week, the waves roll gently in, and break in ripples on the beach. The sky is blue, and the sands are warm. It is the best place in the world for digging and building castles. There are very few sh.e.l.ls to gather; but there are no dangerous rocks or slippery places, and children can wade about and play in perfect safety. So many families--Belgians, English, Germans, and a few French--spend the summer holidays there.

Hundreds of years ago the storms of winter used to drive the waves ash.o.r.e with such violence that the land was flooded, and whole villages were sometimes swept away. So the people made ramparts of earth to keep back the water, till by degrees many parts of the Belgian sh.o.r.e were thus protected. They still continue to build defences against the sea; but instead of earth they now use brick and stone. It looks as if in a few years the whole coast will be lined by these sea-fronts, which are called _digues de mer_.

A _digue_, no matter how thick, which rests on the sand alone will not last. A thick bed of green branches is first laid down as a foundation. This is strengthened by posts driven through it into the sand. Heavy timbers, resting on bundles of branches lashed together, are wedged into the foundations, and slope inwards and upwards to within a few feet of the height to which it is intended to carry the _digue_. On the top another solid bed of branches is laid down, and the whole is first covered with concrete, and then with bricks or tiles, while the top of the _digue_, at the edge of the seaward slope, is composed of heavy blocks of stone cemented together and bound by iron rivets.

The finest and longest _digue_ is that which extends from Ostend for about nine miles. It is a good place for bicycle rides. No motor-cars are allowed on it.

Each of the little towns which you see dotted along the coast has a _digue_ of its own, on which there is a row of villas and hotels facing the sea. Among the dunes behind the _digue_ there are more villas. These are generally very picturesque, with verandas, red-tiled roofs, and brightly painted woodwork.

All day long in summer the _digue_ of each town is crowded by people walking about in the sunshine, or sitting watching the bathers and the children playing on the sands. It is a very gay sight. There are prizes for those who build the best castles, and it is curious to see hundreds of little Belgian, English, French, and German flags flying on these small forts, and to hear the children shouting to each other in so many different languages. It makes one think of the Tower of Babel.

From six in the morning till six in the evening bathing-machines go to and from the water, and often there seem to be as many people in the sea as on the sh.o.r.e. There is a boat anch.o.r.ed a little way out, in which two men in red shirts, with ropes and lifebelts, sit watching to see that no one goes too far out, for the tide is often very strong.

Sometimes these men, who are called _sauveteurs_, stand on the sand, and if they think anyone is swimming too far they blow a trumpet to call the swimmer back.

In the evening, when it is dark and the lamps are lighted, there is dancing on the _digue_ to the music of a barrel-organ. The Belgians are very fond of this dancing, and often the English and other visitors join in it too.

All summer this holiday life goes on, with bathing, lawn-tennis, and in some places golf, till at last the time comes for going home. The hotels and villas close their doors. The windows are boarded up. The bathing-machines are pulled away from the beach, and put in some sheltered place among the dunes. The _digue_ is left in solitude, to be covered with driven sand, and splashed with foam from the waves which beat against it, till the season of summer gaiety comes round again next year.

CHAPTER II

INLAND: THE FLEMISH PLAIN

Let us now leave the sh.o.r.e, and go inland.

If you climb to the top of some dune, you will see before you a wide plain stretching out as far as the eye can reach. This part of Belgium is called Flanders. It is all flat, with ca.n.a.ls, and long, straight roads, paved with stones, running across it. There are rows of tall poplar-trees or willows, which are bent slightly towards the east, for the wind blows oftenest from the west, small patches of woodland, gardens, and many sluggish streams. The fields, which have no fences or hedges round them, are large and well tilled, some bearing fine crops of wheat, rye, or potatoes and turnips, while others are rich pasture-lands for sheep and cattle. The whole of this Flemish Plain, as it is called, is dotted with farm-houses and cottages. There are a great many villages, and in the distance rise the roof-tops and the towers and spires of famous old towns.

Some of the villages are worth visiting. There is one called c.o.xyde, which lies low among the sandhills, not far from the sea. The people of this village live by fishing, but in a very curious way, for they do it on horseback. They mount little horses, and ride out into the sea with baskets, and nets fastened to long poles. It is funny to see them riding about in the water, and catching fish and shrimps in this strange fashion.

There is another village, also only a short distance inland, where there is a church in which a number of toy ships are hung up. These are offerings made to an image of the Virgin Mary which stands there.

If a crew of Flemish fishermen have escaped from some dangerous storm, they walk in silence to this church, and give thanks to the image, which is called Our Lady of Lombaerdzyde.

The farm-labourers in Flanders live very simply. Their food is chiefly black bread, potatoes, and salted pork or fish. There are lots of boys and girls who eat nothing all the year round but black bread and potatoes, and who look on pork or fish as quite a treat. Sometimes they spread lard on their slices of bread, and there are many who have never tasted b.u.t.ter in their lives. Yet they appear to be very strong and happy. They drink black coffee, or beer if their parents can afford it. The food of the older people is much the same.

Most of the people in the country districts of Flanders--men, women, boys, and girls--work in the fields. In summer they rise at four or five in the morning, and after eating a slice of bread go out into the fields. At half-past eleven or twelve they dine on bread and potatoes, with perhaps a slice of pork, and take a rest. Then they work again till about four in the afternoon, when they rest again, and after that they work on till it is dark. In the short days of winter they toil from sunrise till sunset. By this means they earn enough to live on. A boy or girl may get from 5d. to 7d. a day, a woman a little more, while a married man generally receives 1s. 8d. or 2s. Some farmers pay an unmarried labourer 10d. and his food.

This seems a dull and hard life, but the Flemings do not find it so.

Like all Belgians, they are fond of amus.e.m.e.nt, and there is a great deal of dancing and singing, especially on holidays. Sunday is the chief holiday. They all go to church in the morning, and the rest of the day is given up to play. Unfortunately many of the older people drink too much. There are far too many public-houses. Any person who likes can open one on payment of a small sum of money to the Government. The result is that in many quite small villages, where very few people live, there are ten or twelve public-houses, where a large gla.s.s of beer is sold for less than a penny, and a gla.s.s of coa.r.s.e spirits for about the same price. Most of the drinking is done on Sunday, and on Monday morning it is often difficult to get men to work. There are many, especially in the towns, who never work on Mondays. This is quite understood in Belgium, and people who know the country are pleased, and rather surprised, if an artisan who has promised to come and do something on a Monday morning keeps his word.

Of course there are many sober work-people, and it is a rare thing to see a tipsy woman, much rarer than in England; but there is a great deal of drunkenness in Belgium.

There is one thing to which all the boys and girls look forward, and that is what is called the _Kermesse_. This is a kind of fair, which takes place at every village in summer, and lasts for two or three days. They talk about it for weeks before, and for weeks after. They save up every penny they can lay their hands on, and when the time comes they leave their work or the school as soon as possible in the afternoon, put on their best clothes, and enjoy themselves.

The village street is full of stalls covered with cheap toys, sweetmeats, and all sorts of tempting little articles, and you may be sure the pennies melt away very quickly. Flags of black, red, and yellow stripes--the Belgian national colours--fly on the houses. A band of music plays. Travelling showmen are there with merry-go-rounds, and the children are never tired of riding round and round on the gaily painted wooden horses. Then there is dancing in the public-houses, in which all the villagers, except the very old people, take part. Boys and girls hop round, and if there are not enough boys the girls take each other for partners, while the grown-up lads and young women dance together.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A SHRIMPER ON HORSEBACK, c.o.xYDE.]

The rooms in these public-houses are pretty large, but they get dreadfully hot and stuffy. The constant laughing and talking, the music, and the sc.r.a.ping of feet on the sanded floor make an awful din. Then there are sometimes disputes, and the Flemings have a nasty habit of using knives when they are angry, so the dancing, which often goes on till two or three in the morning, is the least pleasant thing about these gatherings.

This is a very old Belgian custom, but of late years the _Kermesses_ in the big towns have changed in character, and are just ordinary fairs, with menageries and things of that sort, which you can find in England or anywhere else. If you want to see a real Kermesse you must go to some village in Flanders, and there you will find it very amusing.

CHAPTER III

TRAVELLING IN BELGIUM

Travelling in Belgium is cheap and easy. The best way to see the out-of-the-way parts of the country would be to journey about in a barge on the ca.n.a.ls. There are a great many ca.n.a.ls. You could go all the way from France to the other side of Belgium in a barge, threading your way through fields, and meadow-lands, and villages, and stopping every now and then at some of the big towns. If you read that charming book "Vanity Fair," you will see that Mr. Thackeray, who wrote it, says that once an Englishman, who went to Belgium for a week, found the eating and drinking on these boats so good that he went backwards and forwards on the ca.n.a.l between Bruges and Ghent perpetually till the railways were invented, when he drowned himself on the last trip of the boat!

But if that ever happened it was long ago. Nowadays, when travellers are in such a hurry, the ca.n.a.ls are only used for carrying coals, timber, and other goods. They are largely used for that purpose. The Belgians are very wise about their ca.n.a.ls; they keep them in good order, and send as many things as possible by water. It is not so quick, but it is much less expensive, and a great deal safer, than sending them by railway.

It is interesting to stand on the bank of a ca.n.a.l and watch a row of barges moving slowly past. Sometimes a little steam-tug puffs along, pulling three or four barges after it. Some are pulled by horses, and often men or women labour along the towing-path dragging these heavily laden vessels by a rope fastened to a short mast set up in the bows.

This is hard work, but the barge-folk seem to think nothing of it.

Whole families are born, live, and die on their barges. You often see the wife or daughter of the bargeman steering, while the children are playing on the top of the hatches, and the husband is doing some work among the cargo, or just sitting smoking his pipe. These floating homes are long and broad, painted in bright colours, with a deck-cabin, the windows of which are often hung with pretty curtains.

The children run about, and seem never to tumble overboard. If they did they would be easily pulled out, for the barges are very low in the water.

As the country is so flat, bicycling is easy, and alongside most of the roads there is a path made for this purpose, which is kept up by a tax everyone who has a bicycle must pay. Always remember that if you meet another person you keep to the right, and not, as in England, to the left. The same rule applies to driving in a carriage or riding a horse.

The Belgians have an excellent system of light district railways, which run in all directions, some worked by steam and some by electricity. These are very useful, for the trains stop at every village, however small, and the country people can easily go to market or to visit each other. Outside each carriage there is a platform, on which you can stand and see the country. The fares are low, and you can go a long way for a few pence. The carriages are open from end to end, and if you travel in one of them you will generally see a crowd of peasants in blue blouses, old women in long black cloaks and white caps, priests, and soldiers (who only pay half-price), the men all smoking, and the women talking about what they have bought, or what they are going to buy. They are always talking about that, and, indeed, seem never to speak about anything else. A few hours' journey in one of these district railways, which are called the _Chemins-de-fer-Vicinaux_, is a far better way of getting a peep at the Belgian people than rushing along in an express train from one big town to another.

The first railway on the Continent of Europe was in Belgium. It was opened seventy-four years ago--in May, 1835--and ran from Brussels, the capital of Belgium, to Malines, a town which you will see on the map. There are now, of course, a great many railways, which belong to the State and not, as in England, to private companies.

Season tickets are much used on Belgian railways. For instance, anyone wishing to travel for five days on end has only to pay 1 4s. 7d. for a first-cla.s.s ticket, 16s. 5d. for a second-cla.s.s, or 9s. 5d. for a third-cla.s.s. For these small sums you can go all over Belgium on the State railways, stopping as often as you please, at any hour of the day or night, for five days. All you have to do is to take a small photograph of yourself to the station an hour before you intend to start, and tell the railway clerk at the booking-office by which cla.s.s you wish to travel, and when you go back to the station you will find your ticket ready, with your photograph pasted on it, so that the guards may know that you are the person to whom it belongs. You then pay for it, and leave 4s. more, which are given back at whatever station your trip may end. There are also tickets for longer periods than five days. You can send a letter instead of going to the station.

You can write from England, and find your ticket waiting for you at Ostend or Antwerp, or any other place in Belgium from which you may intend to start on your journey. This is very convenient, for it saves the trouble of buying a fresh ticket each day. Besides, it is a great deal cheaper. These tickets are called _abonnements_.

There are also _abonnements_ for children going to school, and for workmen. It is quite common in Belgium to be in a railway carriage where, when the guard comes round, all the pa.s.sengers pull out season tickets.

There is one thing about travelling by railway in Belgium which English people don't always know, and that is the rule about opening and shutting windows. The Belgians are not so fond of fresh air as we are. They sleep with their bedroom windows shut, which makes them soft, and apt to catch cold. So they are always afraid of draughts, especially in a railway train. The first thing a Belgian does, as soon as he enters a carriage, is to shut the windows, and the rule is that if by any chance there were, say, five people who wanted a window open, and only one who wanted it shut, that one can refuse to let the others have it open. If you are sitting near a window, and open it, you may be sure that someone, who is perhaps sitting at the other end of the carriage, will step across and shut it. They never ask leave, or, indeed, say a word; they just shut it.