Cities of Belgium. Grant Allen's Historical Guides

As a whole, the work before you is not entirely by the two Van Eycks. The Adam and Eve on the outer upper shutters of the interior (originally by Hubert) have been altogether removed, and are now in the Museum at Brussels, where we shall see them in due course. Their place has been filled, not by copies (for the originals were nude), but by skin-clad representations of the same figures, whose nudity seemed to the Emperor Joseph II. unsuitable for a church. The lower wings, which were principally (it is believed) by Jan van Eyck, have also been removed, and sold to Berlin. They are replaced by very tolerable copies, made in the early 16th century by Michael Coxcie. Thus, to form an idea of the detail of the original in its full totality it is necessary to visit, not only Ghent, but also Brussels and Berlin. Nevertheless, I describe the whole picture here as it stands, as this is the best place to observe its general composition. I shall say a few words later as to variations of this work from the original. There is a good copy of the whole picture in the Museum at Antwerp, where you will be able to inspect it at greater length and under easier conditions. The remaining portions of the original still left here are believed to be for the most part the work of Hubert van Eyck. Jan must rather be studied in many scattered places, – Bruges, Brussels, Berlin, Paris, Madrid, and London.

The altar-piece was commissioned from Hubert van Eyck by Josse Vydts (Latinised as Jodocus), a gentleman of Ghent, and his wife, Isabella, about the year 1420. Hubert died while the polyptych was still unfinished, and Jan completed it in 1432. Too much importance has been attached by critics, I fancy, to the rhyming hexameter inscribed upon it, (with the words “De Eyck” unmetrically introduced:) “Pictor Hubertus major quo nemo repertus,” etc. They have been twisted into a deliberate expression of belief on the part of Jan that Hubert was a greater painter than himself. If so, it seems to me, Jan was a worse critic than painter. They are probably due, however, to a somewhat affected modesty, or more probably still, to a priestly poet who was in straits to find a rhyme for Hubertus.

I proceed to a detailed explanation of the picture.

The subject, in its entirety, is the Adoration of the Lamb that was Slain, and it is mainly based on the passage in the Apocalypse: “I looked, and lo, a Lamb stood on the Mount Zion, and with Him an hundred and forty and four thousand, having His Father’s name written in their foreheads… And I heard the voice of harpers harping with their harps.” Elsewhere we read: “I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude, which no man could number, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands… These are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore are they before the throne of God; and He shall feed them, and shall lead them to living fountains of waters, and shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.” Much of the imagery, however, I believe, is also taken from the Te Deum.

Lower Tier.

The central panel (original: attributed to Hubert) represents in its middle the altar, hung with red damask, and covered with a white cloth, on which the Lamb of God is standing. His blood flows into a crystal chalice. (This part is clearly symbolical of the Eucharist.) Upon Him, from above, descends the Holy Ghost, in the form of a dove, sent out by the Eternal Father, who occupies the central panel on top. Around the altar are grouped adoring angels, with many-coloured wings, holding the instruments of the Passion – the Cross, the Spear, the Sponge, and the Column to which Christ was fastened for flagellation. In front of it, two angels swing censers. The flowery foreground is occupied by the Fountain of Life, from which pure water flows limpid, to irrigate the smiling fields of Paradise. Four bands of worshippers converge towards this centre. On the left-hand side, stand, kneel, or ride, a group of worshippers representing, as a whole, the secular aspect of the Christian Church – the laity. The foreground of this group is occupied by the precursors of Christ. Conspicuous among them are the Jewish prophets in front, and then the Greek poets and philosophers, – Homer, Plato, Aristotle – whom mediæval charity regarded as inspired in a secondary degree by the Spirit of Wisdom. Homer, in white, is crowned with laurel. The group also includes kings and other important secular personages. The right-hand side, opposite, is occupied by representatives of the Church, showing the religious as opposed to the secular half of the Christian world. In the front rank kneel 14 persons, the Twelve Apostles (with Paul and Matthias) in simple robes, barefooted; behind them are ranged all the orders of the hierarchy – canonized popes, with their attendant deacons; archbishops, bishops, and other dignitaries.

The background shows two other groups, one of which (to the L.) consists of the Martyrs, bearing their palms of martyrdom, and including in their number popes, cardinals, bishops, and other ecclesiastics. The inner meaning of this group is further emphasized by the symbolical presence of a palm tree behind them. To balance them on the R. advance the Virgins conspicuous among whom are St. Agnes with her lamb, St. Barbara with her tower, St. Catherine, and St. Dorothy with her roses: many of them carry palms of martyrdom. These various groups thus illustrate the words of the Te Deum, representing “the glorious company of the apostles,” “the goodly fellowship of the prophets,” “the noble army of martyrs,” “the Holy Church throughout all the world,” etc., in adoration of the Lamb that was Slain. (A chorus of Apostles, of Prophets, of Martyrs, of Virgins is common in art.)

The more distant background is occupied by towered cities, typifying perhaps the New Jerusalem, but adorned with Flemish or Rhenish turrets and domes, and painted with Flemish minuteness and exactitude.

On the front of the altar are written in Latin the words, “Behold the Lamb of God that taketh away the sins of the world.”

The Left Wings (inferior copy by Coxcie: originals, probably by Jan, now at Berlin) form a continuation of the scene of the Prophets and the secular side of Christendom in the central panel, and represent, in the First or Inner Half, the Orders of Chivalry and the mediæval knighthood riding, as on a crusade or pilgrimage, towards the Lamb that was Slain. At their head go the soldier saints, St. George, St. Adrian, St. Maurice, and St. Charlemagne (for the great emperor Karl is also a canonized person). The action of the horses throughout is admirable. The Second or Outer Half (ill described as “the Just Judges”) represents the Merchants and Burgesses, among whom two portraits in the foreground are pointed out by tradition as those of Hubert and Jan van Eyck: (Hubert in front, on a white horse: Jan behind, in a dark brown dress, trimmed with fur). But this detail is unimportant: what matters is the colour and composition on one hand, the idea on the other. These two panels, therefore, with the group in front of them, are to be taken as representing the Secular World – learned, noble, knightly, or mercantile – in adoration of the central truth of Christianity as manifested in the Holy Eucharist.

The corresponding Right Wings (copy by Coxcie: originals, probably by Jan, at Berlin) show respectively the Hermits and Pilgrims – the contemplative and ascetic complement of the ecclesiastical group in front of them: the monastic as opposed to the beneficed clerics. The First or Inner Half shows the Eremites, amongst whom are notable St. Anthony with his crutch, and, in the background, St. Mary Magdalen with her box of ointment, emerging from her cave, (the Sainte Baume) in Provence, in her character as the Penitent in the Desert. On the Second or Outer Half, the body of Pilgrims is led by the gigantic form of St. Christopher, with his staff and bare legs for wading; behind whom is a pilgrim with a scallop-shell, and many other figures, not all of them (to me) identifiable. Here again the presence of palms in the background marks the esoteric idea of martyrdom.

I need not call attention throughout to the limpid sky, the fleecy clouds, the lovely trees, the exquisite detail of architecture and landscape.

Upper Tier.

The three Central Panels (original) are attributed to Hubert. That in the middle represents, not (I feel sure) as is commonly said, Christ, but God the Father (“Therefore they are before the throne of God”) wearing the triple crown (like the Pope), holding the sceptre, and with his right hand raised in the attitude of benediction. His face is majestic, grave, passionless: his dress kingly: a gorgeous morse fastens his jewelled robe of regal red. At his feet lies the crown of earthly sovereignty. He seems to discharge the Holy Ghost on the Lamb beneath him. The word Sabaoth, embroidered on his garments, marks him, I think, as the Father: indeed, the Son could hardly preside at the sacrifice of the Lamb, even in the Eucharist.

On the right of the Father, in the panel to the (spectator’s) left (Hubert: original), Our Lady, crowned, as Queen of Heaven, sits reading in her blue robe. Her face is far more graceful than is usual in Flemish art: indeed, she is the most charming of Flemish Madonnas. Behind her is stretched a hanging of fine brocade.

The panel to the right (Hubert: original) shows St. John the Baptist, with his camel-hair garment, covered by a flowing green mantle. The folds of all these draperies in Hubert’s three figures, though simple, have great grandeur.

The Outer Wing to the left (substituted clothed figure, not a copy: original, by Hubert, at Brussels) has Adam, as typical (with Eve) of unregenerate humanity: a sense further marked by the Offerings of Cain and Abel above it.

The Outer Wing to the right has an Eve with the apple, (similarly clad, not copied from the original, by Hubert, now at Brussels:) above it, the First Murder.

The Inner Left Wing (copy: the original, attributed to Jan, is at Berlin) has a beautiful group of singing angels.

The Inner Right Wing (copy: the original, likewise attributed to Jan, is also at Berlin) has an angel (not St. Cecilia) playing an organ, with other angels accompanying on various musical instruments.

Taking it in its entirety, then, the altar-piece, when opened, is a great mystical poem of the Eucharist and the Sacrifice of the Lamb, with the Christian folk, both Church and World, adoring. It was in order to prepare your mind for recognition of this marked strain of mysticism in the otherwise prosaic and practical Flemish temperament, that I called your attention at Bruges to several mystic or type-emphasising pictures, in themselves of comparatively small æsthetic value.

The composition contains over 200 figures. Many of them, which I have not here identified, can be detected by a closer inspection, which, however, I will leave to the reader.

Now, ask the sacristan to shut the wings. They are painted on the outer side (all a copy) mainly in grisaille, or in very low tones of colour, as is usual in such cases, so as to allow the jewel-like brilliancy of the internal picture to burst upon the observer the moment the altar-piece is opened.

The lower wings have (in this copy) representations of the Four Evangelists, in niches, in imitation of statuary. Observe the half-classical pose and costume of Luke, the Beloved Physician. These figures, however, were not so arranged in the original, as I shall afterwards explain.

The upper wings represent on their first or lowest tier, the Annunciation, a frequent subject for such divided shutters. In the centre is the usual arcade, giving a glimpse of the town of Ghent where Hubert painted it. (The scene is said to be Hubert’s own studio, which stood on the site of the Café des Arcades in the Place d’Armes: the view is that which he saw from his own windows.) To the L., as always, is the angel Gabriel, with the Annunciation lily; to the R. is Our Lady, reading. The Dove descends upon her head. The ordinary accessories of furniture are present – prie-dieu, curtain, bed-chamber, etc. Note this arrangement of the personages of the Annunciation, with the empty space between Our Lady and the angel: it will recur in many other pictures. Observe also the Flemish realism of the painter, who places the scene in his own town at his own period: and contrast it with the mysticism of the entire conception.

The uppermost tier of all is occupied by figures of two Sibyls (universally believed in the Middle Ages to have prophesied of Christ) as well as two half-length figures of the prophets Zachariah and Micah, (also as foretellers of the Virgin birth).

In several details the outer shutters in this copy differ markedly from the originals at Berlin. Jan’s picture had, below, outer panels (when shut), portraits of Josse Vydts and his wife: inner panels, imitated statues (in grisaille) of St. John the Baptist and St. John the Evangelist, patrons at that time of this church. If you are going on to Berlin, you will see them: if back to London, then go to the Basement Floor of the National Gallery, where you will find the water-colour copy done for the Arundel Society, which will give you an excellent idea of the work in its original condition.

A few words must be given to the external history of this great altar-piece. It was begun by Hubert about 1420. His death in 1426 interrupted the work. Jan probably continued to paint at it till 1428, when he went to Portugal. On his return, he must have carried it to Bruges, where he next lived, and there completed it in 1432. It was then placed in this the family chapel of Josse Vydts. During the troubles of the Reformation it was carried to the Hôtel-de-Ville, but after the capitulation to the Duke of Parma it was restored to the chapel of the Vydts family. Philip II. wished to carry it off, but had to content himself with a copy by Coxcie, the wings of which are now in this chapel. The panels with Adam and Eve were removed in 1784, after Joseph II. had disapproved of them, and hidden in the sacristy. In 1794, the remaining panels were carried to Paris: after the peace, they were returned, but only the central portions were replaced in the chapel. The wings, save Adam and Eve, were sold to a Brussels dealer, and finally bought by the King of Prussia, which accounts for their presence at Berlin. As for Adam and Eve, the church exchanged them with the Brussels Museum for the wings of Coxcie’s copy. These various vicissitudes will explain the existing condition of the compound picture.

Do not be content with seeing it once. Go home, re-read this description, and come again to study it afresh to-morrow.

The chapel of the Holy Sacrament, in the Apse, has very ugly rococo monuments to bishops of the 18th century, in the worst style of the debased Renaissance, and other monstrosities.

The 10th chapel has a famous *altar-piece by Rubens, St. Bavon renouncing his worldly goods to embrace the monastic life. The Saint is seen, attired as a Duke of Brabant of the 17th century, in his armour and ducal robes, attended by his pages, making his profession at the door of a stately Renaissance church, such as certainly did not exist in the North in his time, and received with acclamation by a dignified body of nobly-robed ecclesiastics, including St. Amand (see later, under the Monastery of St. Bavon). The features of the patron saint are said to be those of Rubens; they certainly resemble his portrait of himself at Florence. The foreground is occupied by a group of poor, to whom St. Bavon’s worldly goods are being profusely scattered. On the L. are two ladies, in somewhat extravagant courtly costumes, who are apparently moved to follow the Saint’s example. They are said to be the painter’s two wives, but the resemblance to their known portraits is feeble. This is a fine specimen of Rubens’s grandiose and princely manner, of his feeling for space, and of his large sense of colour; but it is certainly not a sacred picture. It was appropriately painted for the High Altar in the Choir (1624), after the church was dedicated to St. Bavon and erected into a cathedral, but was removed from that place of honour in the 18th century to make room for a vulgar abomination by Verbruggen. (I defer consideration of Rubens and his school till we reach Brussels and Antwerp.) Fair monument of a 17th century bishop.

Descend the steps again. Enter the Choir, a very fine piece of architecture, cleared of the monstrosities of the last century: it has beautiful grey stone arches (about 1300), a handsome Triforium, and excellent brick vaulting. The lower portion, however, is still disfigured by black-and-white marble screens and several incongruous rococo tombs, some of which have individual merit. (That to the left, Bishop Triest by Duquesnoy, is excellent in its own genre.) Over the High Altar flutters a peculiarly annoying and flyaway 17th century figure of the Apotheosis of St. Bavon, the patron saint of the Cathedral, who of course thus occupies the place of honour. It is by Verbruggen. The huge copper candlesticks, bearing the royal arms of England, as used by Charles I, belonged to his private oratory in Old St. Paul’s in London, and were sold by order of Cromwell. Impressive view down the Nave from this point.

Tip the Sacristan at the rate of 1 franc per head of your party.

D. THE OUTSKIRTS

Old Ghent occupied for the most part the island which extends from the Palais de Justice on one side to the Botanical Gardens on the other. This island, bounded by the Lys, the Schelde, and an ancient canal, includes almost all the principal buildings of the town, such as the Cathedral, St. Nicolas, the Hôtel-de-Ville, the Belfry, and St. Jacques, as well as the chief Places, such as the Marché aux Grains, the Marché aux Herbes, and the Marché du Vendredi. It also extended beyond the Lys to the little island on which is situated the church of St. Michel, and again to the islet formed between the Lieve and the Lys, which contains the château of the Counts and the Place Ste. Pharailde.

In the later middle ages, however, the town had spread to nearly its existing extreme dimensions, and was probably more populous than at the present moment. But its ancient fortifications have been destroyed, and their place has been taken by boulevards and canals. The line may still be traced on the map, or walked round through a series of shipping suburbs; but it is uninteresting to follow, a great part of its course lying through the more squalid portions of the town. The only remaining gate is that known as the Rabot (1489), a very interesting and picturesque object, situated in a particularly slummy quarter. It can best be reached by crossing the bridge near the church of St. Michel, and continuing along the Rue Haute to the Boulevard du Béguinage, (where stood originally the Grand Béguinage, whose place is now occupied by modern streets.) Turn there along the boulevard to the R., till you reach the gate, which consists of two curious round towers, enclosing a high and picturesque gable-end. Owing to the unpleasant nature of the walk, I do not recommend this excursion.

The S. quarter of the town, beyond the Cathedral and St. Nicolas, has been much modernized during the last two centuries. Its only interesting points are the recent Palais de Justice and the Kouter or Place d’Armes, (once the archery ground) in which a pretty flower-market is held on Friday and Sunday mornings. The Café des Arcades, at its E. end, occupies the site of Hubert van Eyck’s studio.

The rest of the inner town contains little that throws light on its origin or history.

There is, however, one small excursion which it would be well for those to take who have a morning to spare, and who desire to understand the development of Ghent – I mean to the Monastery of St. Bavon, which alone recalls the first age of the city. Every early mediæval town had outside its walls a ring of abbeys and monasteries, and Ghent was particularly rich in this respect.

[St. Amand was the apostle of Flanders and the surrounding countries. He was sent by the pious king Dagobert to convert the Flemings en bloc, and is said to have built, about 630, a little cell by the bank of the Lys, N.E. of the modern city. In 651, St. Bavon entered this infant monastery, which henceforth took his name. The abbey grew to be one of the most important in Flanders, and occupied a large area on the N.E. of the town, near the Antwerp Gate. Eginhard, the biographer and son-in-law of Charlemagne, was abbot in the 9th century. The Counts of Flanders had rights of hospitality at St. Bavon’s; hence it was here, and not in the Oudeburg as usually stated, that Queen Philippa gave birth to John of Gaunt. In 1539, however, Charles V. that headstrong despot, angry at the continual resistance of his native town to his arbitrary wishes, dissolved the monastery in the high-handed fashion of the 16th century, in order to build a citadel on the spot. As compensation for disturbance to the injured saint, he transported the relics of St. Bavon to what was then the parish church of St. John, which has ever since borne the name of the local patron. Around the dismantled ruins, the Emperor erected a great fort, afterwards known as the Spaniards’ Castle, (Château des Espagnols, or Het Spanjaards Kasteel.) This gigantic citadel occupied a vast square space, still traceable in the shape of the modern streets; but no other relic of it now remains. The ruins of the Abbey are in themselves inconsiderable, but they are certainly picturesque and well worth a visit from those who are spending some days in Ghent. The hurried tourist may safely neglect them.]

The direct route from the Place d’Armes to the Abbey is by the Quai du Bas Escaut, and the Rue Van Eyck. A pleasanter route, however, is by the Rue de Brabant and the Rue Digue de Brabant to the Place d’Artevelde, passing through the handsomest part of the modern town. (In the Place itself stands the fine modern Romanesque Church of St. Anne, the interior of which is sumptuously decorated in imitation of mosaic.) Thence, follow the Quai Porte aux Vaches to the Place Van Eyck. Cross the bridges over the Upper and Lower Schelde, and the Abbey lies straight in front of you.

Walk past the ivy-clad outer wall of the ruins to the white house at the corner of the street beyond it, where you will find the concierge (notice above the door). One franc is sufficient tip for a party. The concierge conducts you over the building, which has a picturesque cloister, partly Romanesque, but mainly 15th century. The centre of the quadrangle is occupied by a pretty and neatly-kept garden of the old sweet-scented peasant flowers of Flanders. The most interesting part of the ruins, however, is the octagonal Romanesque Baptistery or “Chapel of St. Macaire,” a fine piece of early vaulting, with round arches, very Byzantine in aspect. The chapel rests on massive piers, and its Romanesque arches contrast prettily with the transitional Gothic work of the cloister in the neighbourhood. Within are several fragments of Romanesque sculpture, particularly some *capitals of columns, with grotesque and naïve representations of Adam and Eve with the Lord in the Garden, and other similar biblical subjects. (Examine closely.) There is likewise an interesting relief of St. Amand preaching the Gospel in Flanders, and a man-at-arms in stone, of Artevelde’s period, removed from the old coping of the Belfry.

We next go on to the Crypt, the tombs of the monks, the monastery cellars, etc., where are collected many pieces of ancient sculpture, some found in the ruins and others brought from elsewhere. The Refectory at the end, which for some time served as the Church of St. Macaire, is now in course of transformation into a local Museum of Monumental Art. It contains some good old tombs, and an early fresco (of St. Louis?) almost obliterated. But the garden and cloister are the best of the place, and make together a very pretty picture. You can return by the Quai and the Rue St. Georges, or by the Place St. Bavon and the Archiepiscopal Palace. (The castellated building to the L., much restored, near the Cathedral, known as the Steen of Gérard le Diable, is the sole remaining example of the mediæval fortified houses in Ghent.)