Ellsworth American., 1876-06-01

Dougns, ,neavy Win hnaif-DlSwn roses ,droOp-
ing languidly ever the bank, here Chamber
ing over the old stone balconies aud ter
races carved with weird monsters and
proud Flemish crests, there lurking under
the arches of the gray, moss-grown bridg.
eS.
Small wonder that the Flemings call
Bruges the city of poets," said my CON-
panion.
We had paused under the golden lime
trees that grow where once rose the pal.
ace OF Charles the Bold. Only the rustic
OF the falling leaves broke the stiffness OF
the sleeping city. Only the dreams stalked
unchallenged through the slumberous
streets.
Gorgeous and colorful they are-dreams
OF mart, and court. aud palace, and pageant,
OF feasting and procession, and aesthetic
revelry and splendor. Ever and anon,
'hrr"sh these misty visions Of ships loaded
with Eastern spices ana queeuiy uaiue,.
brave in cloth OF gold, and cavalcades OF
naughty burghFr princes, echoes faint,
wailing cry,a though the old city ,drugged
with draushts Of Lethe though il be. were
struggling. in its uneasy sleep, to remem-
Der some dear, lost presence, and staminer-
ed, In its wistfulness, My dreams-my
poet-children ye who were greater than
prince or burgher, Whittier are ye gone
ye. my life's music my souls voices2'
There came to Bruges, in the days of its
prime. youth with genius In his heart.
lie was poet and a student. and he told
his thoughts which were beautiful. through
his brush. lie wandered long about the
streets OF Brugss. lie dreamed dreams.
he oehcld visions; he harvested in his soul
not 50 much the splendid realism OF market
place and burgher state as the tender
ltr.- - II
gaze under the vine-decked balconies above
the !ily-starred waterways.
Then came the war. aud the poet carried
his cloister-soul to battle to fight for his
lord, Charles the Bold aud there, on the
field where his sovereign lost is life the
young dreamer was wounded sore, ard, be-
ing brought back to Bruges. was tended
with much love in the hospital OF St John.
and. some say, was visited In hi, pain by
iair Mary OF Burgundy herself; and when
he was cured he painted, In all gratitude,
the great pictures that are now the pride
OF his city, and gave them to those who
had cared for him.
To-day the pale poct-face OF Hans Mem
ling looks down from pedestal on 10 the
shadOwy, ,rosebofdered canal he loved. and
the sunlight streams from the chiseled
hOu-efronts over the tall figure In the long
garment.
Ia another square near by stands the
marble John Van Eych. with the turban
folded about his head, like one OF his own
masi. Under the trees that cast fiickeiin
shadows over him, worn shabby old meu
rest themselves In the August noon. Tired
pea>ant-women, going home from market.
stop and knit awhile at the feet Of the old
painter. Wi-tful-eycd dogs in harness
rtrL. ~, ha
tai and cool their hot sides against the
grateful stone; snd the painter looks down
upon them with a smile.
But this is not the street.-The he knew.
In his world Meors and Arabs and lordly
burghcr-merchants unfollsd their gorgeous
stun, there In the market place. High
metiled horses paved the ground Haush-
" woTen, with white wells floating about
their high COTS, stepped proudly through
the motley crowd OF wcavers, aud lu.lcrs :,
and lace-naktrS. And among them all
day after day, sauntered "A man who caught
every eccentric gesture. every suggestive
face. every brilliant flow Of drapery, and
carried it home with him. gloating over
the treasure, and stamped 1t forever la col
or.
Bruges is the Venice OF the North. sub
dued in color, soitencd In outline. In the
mellow tone OF its architecture, in the ST.
lent beauty of its willow-hung water-w avs,
IN the tender. brooding melancholy that
wraps it about, in the splendid, colorful
realism OF its past, it is reiraction oil the
great southern city. Like Venice, Bruges
is favored with Byzantium. Bruges, like
Venice. assimilated with its art the marye-
lous brilliant forms OF life that ilowed Into
Its mighty mart from every land, and
brought it 10 the rpest cosmopolitanism.
The broad humanity, the large democracy.
the strong, sturdy realism, that make Clan
Bellini the most representative Of Venetian
painters, lind their counterpart in John
Van Eyck.
The other aspect OF Bruges-that OF high
dreams, and my stery and MONDAY shadows.
and cloister ecstacy-fashioned for itself
an exponent IN Hans Memling. He was
an eclectic soul, and looked at the world
through poet-eyes.
Let Us 20 down to the kermesse ground
aud take the Beganage on our way, said
my companion.
From my earliest years had longcd to
see Begun Do you know what that is p!
1t /, member of a religious order which ex-
acts no vows from It's sisterhood, allows
them TO marry permits them TO retire from
the world and return to 1t at their will and
offers most convenient place OF retreat for
persons who are tired OF social dissipation
and wish to offset it BY course Of reNg-
ious life.
The most ar,tocratic women of Belgium
have in all times, been members OF the or
der. The romance and history Of France
aud the Netherlands are filled with the
mysterious figures Of nuns who were court
ladies at pleasure. Their costume and
twofold character rendered them lnvalua-
Bile as political ageIts.
The trst Beguine was st. Begga, daugh-
ter Of Chilperic. She was much disguised
with the chaotic state OF society of those
days which ordered the absence Of the gen
tlelIen of the court the larger part of the
year on business connected with the chase
| or the army. In these intervals the pater-
| nal palace was dull. The princess was
bored beyond expression. One day she
said. with yawn,to her Raidens Il have
! it. We will retire from this dreary old
| house, and 90 and live in a clOister and do
| our own cooking, and mortfy the flesh, un-
| til the ball-season begins. and the men
| come back"
| The impulsive princess executed her
idea, All over the cou.4try, the high-born
women followed her example. The doines-
tic hearth was laid waste far and wide.
Yet it was charming place, that Begul'
| mage. Rows OF quaint lttfe oiu houses
with peaked roofs stood about q quadran-
gle of sunny greensward, over which tall
old el.ns threw their shadows. Every
dwelling had patch of bright flowers be-
fore it, and on many Of the low, greer
doors were little paintings of the patron
saints Of the Inhabitants.
Can we visit the Bsguinage?" we asked
stumbling abruptly into . small white
room where woman sat in bower Q
marigolds and verbenas, with lace pillow
on her knees. Two crutches leaned amons
the flowers by her side. She looked up Al
us with great dark eyes of astsnishment
"Ah. no ,mesdames they are very grand
rich ladies here. They come here In thei
carriages when they wish to pray awhile
They live two or three together in the litt.'
houses. but they keep their servants. ant
allow no stranger to enter. But they ar
very kind. was i'll. and the brought I'D
here"
She turned and gazed wistfully into he
marigolds, and we stole away.
Trees stand like sentinels about the spO
Of bright turf cOnsecrated to kermesse
Beyond them are rows of low cabins wit
, | cpen doors, through which one can see tn