THE YPRES TIMES
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of Ypres was the Lord de Saint Pi, a very prudent and valiant knight, who had
thrown himself into the place where everything was done according to his plans
and orders." The siege was vigorous. One assault lasted from morning till
night. All the assaults failed. And yet the English barrage was accurate and
heavy. Our archers shot so expertly and rapidly that scarcely any dared to
appear on the battlements to defend the place. There were collected that day in
Ypres two tons of artillery, especially arrows." Presently an army of 80,000,
under the French King, was reported on the road to the relief of Ypres, and our
pugnacious prelate" withdrew his force to Bergues and Bourbourg. Subsequent
failures obtained for him a very sorry reception on his return to England."
Anyone who knew Ypres should not allow a copy of A Saunter in Belgium,"
1837, to escape him, if it ever comes his way. It is full of touches of vanished
hands, and remarks almost like the oracles of fate; the traveller looks over the
future Salient from the region of Hooge
Tall spires, peaked roofs, and crowded housesthe bustle and the business
of human life'in full activity; peaceful homesteads—white villages glistening in the
warm sunshineorchards teeming with golden fruitand hither and thither the
gleam of a piece of water I spent an entire day on those hills; and I
regretted when night obliged me to leave them, by shrouding the sweet scene
below from my view. Notwithstanding all this beauty, however, Ypres is little
better than a painted sepulchre.'
The author makes for Poperinghe (attacked, and alassacked by the English
in 1436). Here he is, travelling down through Vlamertinghe"The road lay
through a flat, smiling country, and the weather was delightful. Like all other
Flemish towns, it is not seen by the pedestrian at a great distance, in consequence
of the level nature of the land. The first evidence he has of its existence is the
tall, graceful spire of the church of the Virgin. As he proceeds, he perceives the
less tall and less elegant spires of the churches of St. Bertin (a local saint) and
St. John the Baptist (who is a great favourite in Flanders, perhaps from his
connection with water); anon, those of the monastery of the Recollets and the
convent of the Gray Sisters; and finally the peaked roofs and pointed gables of
the great and small houses."
Without ceremony, I shall next discover him in the neighbourhood of Bailleul.
The country still continued the sameas highly cultivated as the art of man could
make it. Waving cornfields overshadowed the soil; white cottages ornamented
with the ivy, the honey-suckle, the rose and the vine peeped out at short intervals
from among groves of poplar or willow; and placid watersthe slow streams and
still canals which intersect the land in all directionsgleamed and sparkled in the
bright summer sun. Yet this scene, so serene and stillthese plains, so
teeming with abundance and so rich in domestic beautythis landscape of mild
earth,' so lovely in its aspect of repose, has been the theatre of almost all the
sanguinary wars which from time to time have desolated Europe; that luxuriant
crop has been manured with the best blood of the brave, the gay, the virtuous;
these sleeping groves have resounded to the storm of slaughterand may yet
again. How can it be that war and desolation have left no traces? I know not."
There was in Bailleul at that time a veteran of a type whom we have met in
the same town. He is mentioned in "A Trip to Lisle," 1824a poem of several
attractions for those who haunt Flanders in memory or actuality. I shall borrow
a stanza or two from it:
Where Cassel's heights o'erlook the fertile plain,
Baring a hundred steeples to the view
(A sight I fear I ne'er shall see again;
At least 'tis ten to one I never do
