{"id":3874,"date":"2013-01-29T14:43:26","date_gmt":"2013-01-29T19:43:26","guid":{"rendered":""},"modified":"2025-08-04T07:15:27","modified_gmt":"2024-02-21T06:39:18","slug":"from-ghent-to-aix","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/intussen.blog\/?p=3874","title":{"rendered":"… from Ghent to Aix"},"content":{"rendered":"

Sprakeloos. Ik ben sprakeloos. Mijn gesprekspartner in de Finse ambassade, een dame uit Engeland, vertrouwt me toe, zodra ze verneemt dat Gent mijn thuisstad is, dat ze vroeger op de schoolbanken het gedicht “How they Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix<\/em>” heeft geleerd. Ik heb nog nooit van dit gedicht gehoord. Als ze mijn verbijstering merkt, voegt ze er aan toe dat zowat elke leerling in het Engels onderwijs vroeg of laat met dit gedicht wordt geconfronteerd. Nou breekt mijn klomp. Mijn geliefde stad, die in een vreemd land, deel uitmaakt van het schools vermaak, zonder dat ik daar ook maar het geringste vermoeden van heb.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

“How they Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix” <\/em>is ook een bijzonder gedicht omdat het nooit helemaal duidelijk is geworden wat het goede nieuws precies is en waarom het van Gent naar Aken moet worden gebracht, en nog wel door drie ruiters in volle gallop. Sommige bronnen op het internet speculeren dat het een verwijzing is naar de pacificatie van Gent van 1567, andere denken dat het gerelateerd is aan de vrede van Gent die in 1814 tussen de Engelsen en de Amerikanen werd getekend. De auteur zelf (Robert Browning)  heeft altijd ontkend dat het naar een specifieke historische gebeurtenis verwijst.  Hoe het ook zij, “How they Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix” <\/em>is een opmerkelijk gedicht!<\/p>\n

Heb jij ook al eens van die wetenswaardigheden vernomen over een plaats die je nauw aan het hart ligt en waarvan je dacht dat je daar relatief veel over wist?<\/p>\n

Klik op onderstaande link om het gedicht te ontvouwen (of om weer weg te bergen).<\/p>\n

How they Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix<\/a>
<\/p>\n

How they Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix<\/strong>
\nby Robert Browning<\/em><\/p>\n

I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he;
\nI galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three;
\n\u2018Good speed!\u2019 cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew;
\n\u2018Speed!\u2019 echoed the wall to us galloping through;
\nBehind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest,
\nAnd into the midnight we galloped abreast.
\nNot a word to each other; we kept the great pace
\nNeck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place;
\nI turned in my saddle and made its girths tight,
\nThen shortened each stirrup, and set the pique right,
\nRebuckled the cheek-strap, chained slacker the bit,
\nNor galloped less steadily Roland a whit.<\/p>\n

\u2019Twas moonset at starting; but while we drew near
\nLokeren, the cocks crew and twilight dawned clear;
\nAt Boom, a great yellow star came out to see;
\nAt D\u00fcffeld, \u2019twas morning as plain as could be;
\nAnd from Mecheln church-steeple we heard the half-chime,
\nSo Joris broke silence with \u2018Yet there is time!\u2019<\/p>\n

At Aerschot, up leaped of a sudden the sun,
\nAnd against him the cattle stood black every one,
\nTo stare through the mist at us galloping past,
\nAnd I saw my stout galloper Roland at last,
\nWith resolute shoulders, each butting away
\nThe haze, as some bluff river headland its spray.<\/p>\n

And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back
\nFor my voice, and the other pricked out on his track;
\nAnd one eye\u2019s black intelligence,\u2014ever that glance
\nO\u2019er its white edge at me, his own master, askance!
\nAnd the thick heavy spume-flakes which aye and anon
\nHis fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on.<\/p>\n

By Hasselt, Dirck groaned; and cried Joris, \u2018Stay spur!
\nYour Roos galloped bravely, the fault\u2019s not in her,
\nWe\u2019ll remember at Aix\u2019\u2014for one heard the quick wheeze
\nOf her chest, saw the stretched neck and staggering knees,
\nAnd sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank,
\nAs down on her haunches she shuddered and sank.<\/p>\n

So we were left galloping, Joris and I,
\nPast Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky;
\nThe broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh,
\n\u2019Neath our feet broke the brittle bright stubble like chaff;
\nTill over by Dalhem a dome-spire sprang white,
\nAnd \u2018Gallop,\u2019 gasped Joris, \u2018for Aix is in sight!\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018How they\u2019ll greet us!\u2019\u2014and all in a moment his roan
\nRolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone;
\nAnd there was my Roland to bear the whole weight
\nOf the news which alone could save Aix from her fate,
\nWith his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim,
\nAnd with circles of red for his eye-sockets\u2019 rim.<\/p>\n

Then I cast loose my buffcoat, each holster let fall,
\nShook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all,
\nStood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear,
\nCalled my Roland his pet-name, my horse without peer;
\nClapped my hands, laughed and sang, any noise, bad or good,
\nTill at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood.<\/p>\n

And all I remember is, friends flocking round
\nAs I sat with his head \u2019twixt my knees on the ground;
\nAnd no voice but was praising this Roland of mine,
\nAs I poured down his throat our last measure of wine,
\nWhich (the burgesses voted by common consent)
\nWas no more than his due who brought good news from Ghent.<\/p>\n

<\/div><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Sprakeloos. Ik ben sprakeloos. Mijn gesprekspartner in de Finse ambassade, een dame uit Engeland, vertrouwt me toe, zodra ze verneemt dat Gent mijn thuisstad is, dat ze vroeger op de schoolbanken het gedicht “How they Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix” heeft geleerd. Ik heb nog nooit van dit gedicht gehoord. Als ze … Continue reading “… from Ghent to Aix”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3874","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poezie"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p9SLK-10u","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/intussen.blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3874","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/intussen.blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/intussen.blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/intussen.blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/intussen.blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3874"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/intussen.blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3874\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":18200,"href":"https:\/\/intussen.blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3874\/revisions\/18200"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/intussen.blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3874"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/intussen.blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3874"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/intussen.blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3874"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}