he reality itself, however
idealized, but by meditation manifested pictorially." ("The Land of
Rubens," C.B. Huet).

We sat for an hour in the small, sooty, tobacco-smelling _estaminet_
(from the Spanish _estamento_--an inn), and then the skies clearing
somewhat we fared forth to explore the belfry, which in spite of its
sadly neglected state was still applied to civic use. Some dark, heavy,
oaken beams in the ceiling of the principal room showed delicately
carved, fancy heads, some of them evidently portraits. At the rear of
the tower on the ground floor, I came upon a vaulted apartment supported
on columns, and being used as a storehouse. Its construction was so
handsome, it was so beautifully lighted from without, as to make one
grieve for its desecration; it may have served in the olden time as a
refectory, and if so was doubtless the scene of great festivity in the
time of Philip de Commines, who was noted for the magnificence of his
entertainments.

The Flemish burghers of the Middle Ages first built themselves a church;
when that was finished, a great hall. That of Ypres took more than two
hundred years to complete. How long this great tower of Commines took, I
can only conjecture. Its semi-oriental pear-shaped (or onion-shaped, as
you will) tower was certainly of great antiquity; even the unkempt
little priest whom I questioned in the Grand' Place could give me little
or no information concerning it. Indeed, he seemed to be on the point of
resenting my questions, as though he thought that I was in some way
poking fun at him. I presume that it was the scene of great splendor in
their early days. For here a count of Flanders or a duke of Brabant
exercised sovereign rights, and at such a ceremony as the laying of a
corner-stone assumed the place of honor, although the real authority was
with the burghers, and founded upon commerce. While granting this
privilege, the Flemings ever hated autocracy. They loved pomp, but any
attempt to exercise power over them infuriated them.

[Illustration: The Belfry: Commines]

"The architecture of the Fleming was the expression of aspiration,"
says C.B. Huet ("The Land of Rubens").

"The Flemish hall has often the form of a church; art history, aiming at
classification, ranges it among the Gothic by reason of its pointed
windows. The Hall usually is a defenceless feudal castle without moats,
without porticullis, without loopholes. It occupies the center of a
market-place. It