Table of Contents

 

Introduction                                                                                                 3

                        - Conventions                                                                     11

The Research Project                                                                                12

Background                                                                                                 16

                        - Historical and Educational                                             16

- The Jesuit Background                                                  55

Van Crombrugghe’s Letters to his Parents                                         94

Annotations sur l’Institut des Joséphites par Moi,

Guillaume Van den Bossche, Supérieur.                                              113

Van Crombrugghe’s Letters to Confreres                                           145

Superior Generals’ Circulars                                                                   186

                        - Ignace Van den Bossche                                               186

                        - Stanislas de Haeck                                                          190

                        - Rémi de Sadeleer                                                             206

The Suppressed Schools                                                                         209

                        - Les Anges Guardiens, Rooborst                                 209

                        - Notre Dame, Hal                                                               228

                        - St Michel, Maldeghem                                                     242

                        - St Jean Baptiste, Brussels                                             247

                        - St Stanislas, Tirlemont                                                   257

                        - St Materne, Tongres                                                        273

The Van Crombrugghe “Method”                                                          282

Conclusions                                                                                                307

 

APPENDICES: These are separately indexed and an Index of Appendices appears at the head of the Appendices

 

 

           

 

 


Introduction:

 

An overview of the numerous religious orders in the Roman Catholic Church would show that a considerable number of these orders have, through their original foundation or by tradition, been involved in education. In our own country the Benedictines and the Jesuits, among others, have been known for their major schools, and many other orders, particularly orders of sisters, have been involved in education at various levels and to different degrees.

 

It is an increasingly common phenomenon in the world of religious education, i.e. that of schools run by religious orders, that the schools are either closing down, or moving from religious to lay administration. There are various reasons for this change, but the principal one is the self-evident fact that the orders simply no longer  have the personnel to staff and run their schools. Religious life is no longer seen as a compelling life option to the same degree that it was even thirty years ago, and the self-perpetuating cycle which existed in many private schools run by religious, whereby the school was seen as a seed bed for religious vocations, has been irreparably broken. At the leadership level, the inherent lack of a positive career structure within religious orders is increasingly seen as a barrier to the production of effective leadership from within the ranks, although individual cases can be exemplary exceptions to the rule.

 

As the orders withdraw from day-to-day involvement in their schools, there remains in most cases a desire that some sort of ethos, based on the traditional educational ethos of the order concerned, be maintained in the schools. This ethos is generally based on two things: a particular view of education, or an emphasis on a particular facet or facets of education, propounded by the order’s Founder, and the lived experience of the members of the order concerned. In many cases the Founder’s original vision has become clouded by the accretion of years of pious practice and mythologisation, and the lived experience has become more central than the primitive inspiration.

 

In the years following the Second Vatican Council religious orders were urged to investigate and re-discover the original spirit of their Founders. For many teaching orders this process has been concurrent with a withdrawal from full activity and leadership within their schools. This has meant that the central question for many such orders is no longer “how do we understand and apply the vision of our Founder” but rather “how do we understand the vision of our Founder and attempt to transmit it to and through colleagues who are not members of the order”.

 

The situation described is the one facing my own order, the Josephites. Founded in Belgium in 1817 by Constant Van Crombrugghe as an order of Brothers working in primary education amongst the working classes, by the late 1830’s the Josephites were moving into secondary education among the bourgeoisie. Until the 1960’s the order continued along the same path, running large boarding schools in Belgium and England, along with missionary education in the Belgian Congo and, since 1964, the running of a High School in California.

 

Today the situation in Europe and America has changed dramatically: very few Josephites remain in full-time educational work and out of seven schools there is only one with a Josephite head[1]. Nevertheless, there is the stated desire that the schools should remain in some way “Josephite” schools. In Congo, formerly Zaire, this is more than a theoretical exercise since schools remain under Josephtie direction and staffing.

 

Herein, of course, lies the problem. Over the course of the years Josephites have been so occupied in being Josephite teachers that they have never had to take the trouble to define what that meant. Faced now with the need to confide a definition of Josephite education to lay colleagues the need has arisen for a process of investigation, analysis and codification.

 

My own 1997 M.Phil thesis[2] was a step this process of investigation, and the final chapter proposed some definitions of the most prominent features of Josephite education. The whole process of investigation into the Van Crombrugghe legacy had been started many years previously, and was pushed into its “modern” phase by Garcia’s 1980 doctoral  thesis at Louvain University. An overview of this process was published in my M. Phil thesis and it is reprinted more or less verbatim here:

 

The first published work concerning Constant Van Crombrugghe appeared in 1878, only thirteen years after his death. This was the “Vie et Oeuvres du Chanoine Constant Van Crombrugghe[3] written by Monseigneur C. Pieraerts, former Rector Magnificus of the University of Leuven and a former pupil of the Josephites[4]. The book was later re-worked and extended by Fr Adolphe Desmet c.j. and appeared as a new edition in 1937. Although the book takes the form of an extended eulogy and is, in places, unduly “pious” and fanciful, it contains some useful insights into Van Crombrugghe's life and serves as a starting point for any consideration of him. However, the book could not be called in any way critical because of its format and its avowed purpose.

 

An even more fanciful book, “As the Stars They Shall Shine”, was written in 1952 by an American nun, Mother Mary Ignatius d.m.j. This is a work of popularisation bordering on faction complete with sugar-sweet imagined conversations between Van Crombrugghe and his parents and the various other dramatis personae of the story. As a work of academic reference it is of little use, and its syrupy prose style would find little favour with a contemporary reader. It relies heavily on the work of Pieraert and Desmet for its factual information, and some sections would appear to be almost verbatim translations of the previous work.

 

Another work of propaganda, the privately published “Constant Willem Van Crombrugghe; Priester, Pedagoog, Ordestichter[5] by Fr Leonard de Kort c.j. appeared in 1968. This book, also translated into French and English, relies like that of Mother Mary Ignatius on Pieraert and Desmet’s work for its factual content. Being of later publication and being aimed at vocation work it contains more factual information concerning the various foundations of the Josephites and the sister Orders, and concerns itself with events occurring after the death of the Founder and up until the time of writing.

 

The first major investigation into Van Crombrugghe to be undertaken not as a work of uncritical propaganda was that undertaken in the late 1940s and early 1950’s by Fr Jacques Jorissen cj. This work was intended for private publication but was, in fact, suppressed by the Josephite authorities of the time and languished, hidden from sight, for many years until photocopies began to see the light of day in the early 1980s. His “Constant Van Crombrugghe” and the later  “Essai de Décryptage Psychologique” take a broad and analytical view of Van Crombrugghe’s life and work vis-à-vis the Diocese of Ghent, the Josephites and the three congregations of sisters which he also founded. The major contribution of Jorissen to a contemporary understanding of Van Crombrugghe is acknowledged here as it has already  been in Powell (1997). Since 1997 a draft translation into English of Jorissen’s work has been undertaken by Fr Robert Hamilton cj.

 

1971 saw an awakening of academic interest in the Founder at the Catholic University of Leuven, Belgium. Christiaan de Geeter published in that year his Licentiate Thesis in the Faculty of Pedagogy “Opvoeding en Onderwijs bij Constant Van Crombrugghe.[6] Whilst this work contains much interesting information  it is somewhat limited in its scope. 

 

In 1980 a major milestone in the understanding of Van Crombrugghe was reached with the publication by Fr Guillermo Garcia c.j. of his Doctoral Thesis, also at Leuven, entitled “Constant Van Crombrugghe (1789-1865) - The response of a Christian and an Educator to and within the context of the 19th. century”. This meticulously crafted work of research represents a seminal attempt to view the Founder, stripped of the myth and mythology which inevitably surrounds “heroes”, from a standpoint of pure scholarship based on primary sources. The Thesis is broad in its scope, considering the Founder in all his roles and at all stages of his life. From the purely educational point of view, however, Garcia, like De Geeter, does not attempt to isolate the purely educational context. This is not a criticism: the Thesis was presented in the Faculty of Theology rather than that of Pedagogy.   

 

Another, very different, thesis was published by Danny Bauters in 1981, this time in the University of Ghent, Faculty of Letters and Philosophy, Department of Modern History. This Thesis, “Herkomst, Opleiding en Toekomst van de Leerlingen in het Vrij Middelbaar Onderwijs: Casus - Het Jozefietencollege te Melle, 1837-1914”[7], does not have Van Crombrugghe as its principal subject but rather focuses on sociological aspects of a Josephite College in Belgium and its pupils. Whilst remaining of historical interest this work has little to offer for the current research.

 

In the following years Sr Theresa Clements d.m.j. completed her Doctoral Thesis at the Pontifical Gregorian University, Rome. This Thesis has been published in two parts: “Instruments of Mercy” (1982) and “Instrument in the Hand of God” (1983). The thesis concentrates on Van Crombrugghe's spirituality, particularly vis-à-vis the sisters.

 

The history of the period, and particularly the educational history, is not a rich field, especially in the English language. De Meeus’ “History of the Belgians” (1962) in an English translation by G. Gordon provides an interesting general read, but with no referencing or bibliography. A richer source is J.A. Kossman-Putto & E.H. Kossman’s “The Low Countries - History of the Northern and Southern Netherlands (1989) although it provides a view of the history of the region as principally Dutch history with Belgian history as a corollary, and there is very little on educational matters.

 

In other languages, a more weighty coverage yet is given by H. Pirenne’s massive “Histoire de Belgique”, of which Volumes V and VI cover the period in question. Its sheer mass of detail makes it a daunting prospect, though, as in most other historical works consulted, there is little concerning education.

 

As far as Van Crombrugghe texts are concerned, very little has appeared before in English translation. The “Règlement des Professeurs”, “Guide Pédagogique” and “Directoire des Surveillants” did exist in English, in a rather piously-worded and sometimes inaccurate translation dating from the 1950’s. These texts as they appear here are translations prepared by this writer in 1984. The other documents: the “Règlement du Collège d’Alost”[8] , Van Crombrugghe's speeches of 1815 , and Van Crombrugghe's intervention at the National Congress of 1830 are new translations which were prepared by the writer specifically for the 1997 thesis. They are included as an Appendix here under the guise  Documents for Educators” since they have been gathered together as such and privately published for the staffs of Josephite schools. A Chapter on these documents, based on the work done in my M.Phil. thesis, in included here for the sake of completeness.

 

Since 1997 one new publication has shed some much needed light on the development of education in Belgium: in 1998 Dominique Grootaers published a “Histoire de l’Enseignement en Belgique” through the Centre de Recherche et d’Information Socio-Politiques in Brussels. This is a collection of essays and articles by prominent Belgian academics and, in particular, the Chapter on Secondary Education, written by Grootaers, gives a useful indication of the currents in Belgian Secondary Education at the time covered by this thesis. A short Chapter, based almost entirely on information drawn from Grootaers, forms an introductory background to the presentation of the Josephite documents.

 

A further process of publication has also followed in the years since 1997, namely a privately published series of documents, concerned with Van Crombrugghe and the Josephites, under the general heading of “Studia Josephitica”. The aim of this series has been to bring to light documents which would otherwise languish in our Archives or simply be forgotten. The series has been published by myself in collaboration with Father Robert Hamilton cj. and Father Honoré Smets cj. Where possible documents which are in other languages have been translated into English, and a copy of the whole series is lodged in the Van Crombrugghe Library at St George’s College, Weybridge.

 

The main documents in the series are Van Crombrugghe’s letters to his parents (107 letters) and to Josephites (652 letters), translated from the French and Flemish by myself: these are the keystones of the current research. These letters have been annotated in so far as has been possible, and are submitted as part of this thesis. I have to acknowledge the considerable contribution to this process of the late Fr Honoré Smets cj who was kind enough to provide French translations of those letters whose originals are in Flemish and to help with the translation from French of the more obscure passages in the letters.

 

There is also a similar number of letters from Van Crombrugghe to the Ladies of Mary which have been translated and edited by Sister Alice Nugent dmj.

 

A further document, and one which is considered in depth in this thesis, is the Diary of the first Superior General, Ignace Van den Bossche.

 

A full list of the  “Studia Josephitica” documents appears in the Appendix. 

 

It is not the intention here to attempt to prove or disprove any particular thesis: rather the intention is to present the written, archival evidence and, based on that evidence, to come to conclusions and present further questions for consideration.

 

Two ideas from Jorissen have been at the back of my mind during the research process, and these will be returned to in the conclusions.

 

Jorissen speaks of Van Crombrugghe in two ways:

 

·        “The ideal of the Josephites as the Founder conceived it in his clear wisdom and burning clarity”.

 

and

 

·        “….. wishing to produce good results with inadequate subjects, he inevitably makes us think of a chess master

·        . After a few initial thrusts, we see him carefully preparing his moves; suddenly, completely exploiting a fortuitous circumstance, he makes his decision and,  profiting from a series of advantages, shoots ahead. The he pauses for a long time to consolidate his position or, if he meets an unforeseen obstacle, he retreats and completely rethinks his tactics, all the while seeking out better possibilities”[9]

 

The reader is counselled, as he reads the pages which follow, to hold in his mind these two pictures to which we will return in the final Chapter.

Conventions

A number of conventions are used in this thesis with regard to names and languages.

 

Josephites. The Congregation has been known by a number of different names during its history. The “Brothers of St Joseph”, the “Brothers of Joseph and Mary” and “the Josephites”. For the purposes of this research the name “Josephites” is used at all times, along with “the Institute”.

 

Belgium. Belgium only became an independent country in 1830. The use of the word Belgium prior to that date is taken to mean “that geographical area which would  become Belgium in 1830”.

 

Brother. The title “Brother” was used for all confreres at the beginning, except for the Superior General who, although not a priest, was known as “Father Superior”. When the Institute became “Messieurs les Joséphites” the choir religious, i.e. the teaching brothers, became known as “Mr” followed by their Christian name, and the non-teaching brothers remained as “Brother”. Titles used in this thesis are usually those by which the confrère concerned was recorded on entry to the Institute.

 

Languages. Belgium has three official languages: German, spoken in a small enclave to the East; French, spoken in Wallonia, broadly speaking the South of the country; Dutch, spoken in Flanders, the Northern part of the country. More accurately the language of Flanders is Flemish, a spoken variety of Dutch. Brussels, the capital, is officially bilingual. Many towns in Belgium have two names. The convention in this thesis is to use the French form of the name since it is the French names which are used in the correspondence. The only exceptions are where town names have English forms which are in common use: Brussels and Ghent.

 

Flemish                                              French

Aalst                                                   Alost 

Brugge                                               Bruges

Brussel                                               Bruxelles (English spelling “Brussels”)

Gent                                                    Gand (English spelling “Ghent”)

Geraardsbergen                               Grammont

Leuven                                                Louvain

Mechelen                                           Malines

Tienen                                                Tirlemont

Tongeren                                            Tongres


The Research Project

 

As has been noted in the introductory chapter, my own 1997 M.Phil. thesis, “Constant Van Crombrugghe (1789-1865) and Education; the genesis, evolution and application of the educational philosophy of a 19th century Roman Catholic Educator” continued the process of investigation into Van Crombrugghe by attempting to define how Van Crombrugghe viewed education, and concluded by proposing  some definitions of his educational principles.

 

Its focus was, therefore, rather different to the current research as it sought to concentrate on Van Crombrugghe himself and the factors which influenced the development of his educational views. The focus of the current research is rather the story of the development of the Josephites as the inheritors of his views and the people who had, with varying degrees of success, to put his views into action. It aims to give an overview of the various currents and personalities involved in the development of the Josephites as a teaching institute from the foundation of the Institute in 1817 to the death of the Founder in 1865, and to draw conclusions as to the nature of Josephite education as shaped by Constant Van Crombrugghe and his early collaborators and such as it had been realised in Van Crombrugghe’s lifetime. In this context it could be characterised as an almost entirely introspective evaluation, focussing almost without exception on the data available and, therefore, as interpreted by the writers of the documents. It does, therefore, build on and continues the work previously done, not only in my own thesis but in the other works mentioned in the introduction.

 

No apology is made for the inclusion of a number of sections from the M.Phil. thesis as these are sections which give a wealth of background information germane to the current research and, indeed, a reader of this thesis could well be at a loss to understand the context of the various events described and assertions made in the present work. Where elements of the earlier work have been included they are specifically acknowledged as such.

 

There is no specific thesis to prove or disprove in the current research; rather it is an attempt at elucidation of an historical story through interpretation of archival data, a vignette of an educational movement at a particular time and place, and a distillation of the principal threads of that story. The intention is not to focus on the development of the Josephites as a Religious Congregation except where those elements are bound up – as they frequently are – in the development of the schools.

 

It could be argued that all historical research is archival, and therefore the inclusion of “based on archival sources” in the title of this thesis is un-necessary. However the inclusion of these words in the title is done deliberately to highlight the difference in approach between the earlier M.Phil. which was based principally on commonly available sources and the current work which has involved a large amount of consultation, transcription and translation of original material.

 

It has to be acknowledged that there is a degree of crossover between the two theses and the reader is counselled to consult the M.Phil. thesis in order to reach a fuller understanding of the background to the current work. Where it has been felt necessary, elements from the M.Phil. have been included here and acknowledged as such. This has been particularly necessary in the following chapter which attempts to set the work of Van Crombrugghe and the Josephites in a historical context.

 

A principal difference between my M.Phil. research and the current project is the availability of a large body of archival material which was not available at the time of undertaking the M.Phil.  This includes:

 

- evidence from Van Crombrugghe’s correspondence, in particular the extant letters between himself and a) various early Josephites and b) his parents. The originals of these letters were not available for consultation at the time that my previous thesis was being written. These letters, all originals, are stored in individual envelopes contained in ring binders. Many of them are somewhat frail and should be handled with care. The numbering system used in this thesis is my own and will not be found on the envelopes containing the originals. The letters are stored in chronological order with the letters to his parents as a separate collection. They are indexed as III-D-1 to 8[10].

 

- The circulars of early Superiors General, Ignace Van den Bossche (1st Superior General), Stanislas De Haeck (2nd Superior General) and Rémi de Sadeleer (3rd Superior General). These are stored in book form in the handwriting of the author with the exception of all but a few of the earliest of Van den Bossche’s circulars which are in Stanislas’ hand. Each General has a separate book. They are indexed as IV-A-2,3 and 4.[11]

 

- Chapter documents, particularly those dealing with educational matters and leading up to the take-over of College Melle in 1837. As these documents are quoted more or less in their entirety in the Superior General’s Circular immediately following the Chapter they are considered within the context of the Circulars. The Chapter records are stored in book form as  III-B-1.

 

- Early account books of the Congregation which are the sole remaining record of who was where when, thus giving an insight into how various personalities shaped the educational basis of the Congregation. These records appear in the Appendix and I acknowledge the work of Fr Honoré Smets in their preparation. They are stored on open shelves IX-B-7,8 and 9.

 

All of the documents noted above were housed at the time of consultation in the Josephite Archive at Melle[12]. To call the collection an archive in the traditional sense is, perhaps, a misnomer. The word used in the house to refer to the collection is “secretariat” and this is a more accurate description. It is only in the past few years that an archivist has been appointed, and he would more accurately be described as “the person in charge of the archives” rather than an archivist per se. This is to say that the appointee has no particular skills but is simply the person under whose umbrella of responsibilities the archives fall. The origins of the archive collection are as the secretariat of the Superior General and over the years the archive has simply been the place where the various documents pertaining to the Superior General’s period of office have been stored. The care with which this has been done has unfortunately varied from General to General. More recently other documents and collections pertaining to the history of the Institute have been added, but there is no particular requirements for copies of documents of any specific type to be submitted to the archive. The situation has been complicated since the 1960s by the division of the Institute into Regions or Provinces, each with its own governmental structure. Inevitably this has meant the fragmentation of holding points for documentation and most recently the archive has been seen as the Belgian regional archive, albeit holding material of interest at the Institute level.

 

The archive room itself is small, gloomy and unconducive to study. Most items are contained in a collection of cupboards around the walls. There is a rudimentary indexing system in book form by which items are indexed by cupboard, shelf and item. So, for example, the records of General Chapters 1835 – 1857 are indexed as “III-B-1”, that is: cupboard 3, shelf B, item 1. The index has not been kept up to date and many items relating to the past ten years are neither indexed nor stored. In the past two years (2001 – 2003) the archives have been moved to more salubrious surroundings in the former noviciate area of Grammont and it is there that they can be consulted at the time of writing[13]. There are tentative plans in existence (June 2003) to hand the whole collection over to KADOC, the Catholic Documentation Centre at the University of Louvain, who specialise in the maintenance of archives and who already hold the archives of a number of Belgian congregations. Whatever happens in the future the Josephite archives are badly in need of complete re-indexing and cross-referencing.


Background

 

The background to the current research is here considered under three headings: findings from my own M.Phil. research; an overview presented by Grootaers[14]; a consideration of Van Crombrugghe as a link in the historical chain of Jesuit inspired education.

 

The historical background to the development of Van Crombrugghe’s educational thought has been previously outlined in my own M. Phil. thesis. The principal points from that thesis are incorporated here for the sake of completeness, but the reader is again counselled to read the fuller account in that thesis

 

The beginning of Austrian influence in Belgium dates from the end of the War of the Spanish Succession (1700-1713), and Belgium was to remain a possession of the Austrian Habsburgs more or less until 1794. During this period it fell under the rule of three monarchs: Maria Theresa, Joseph II and Leopold II.

 

 During the long period of Habsburg rule there was considerable tension between the monarchy and the Church due to the reforms which the monarchy, particularly Joseph II, tried to impose.  He ruled as an enlightened despot, in line with the following description:

 

“The ruler can dispose of everything in the state, without exception..... Privileges which are disadvantageous to the state are always invalid”[15]

 

This remark was, of course, aimed at the institution which stood par excellence between the monarch and the exercise of complete freedom, i.e. the Roman Catholic Church. This is not to say that Joseph singled out the Church for specific ill-treatment - he was, after all, a Roman Catholic himself.  Rather he quite dispassionately regarded the Church simply as one element (albeit a major element) in the machine of state, and, as such, everything which prevented the Church from acting as an efficient contributor to the building of a modern, unitary state had to go. In espousing this attitude he alienated much of the population of the largely Roman Catholic Belgium and it is against this background that Van Crombrugghe’s later insistence on the freedom of education should be seen.

 

As the Enlightenment progressed so the utilitarian ideal of the “useful citizen” became much more prominent. Johann Ignaz von Felbiger, who was one of the most influential contemporary educational theorists in Central Europe, wrote that the system must be designed to produce:

 

“a. honest citizens; b) good citizens; that is faithful and obedient subjects of the authorities; and c) useful people for the community.”[16]

 

As will later be seen, these aims, albeit set in a Christian and Catholic context, are remarkably similar to those of Van Crombrugghe.

 

Joseph II turned his reforming eye on the field of education, believing that a sound, uniform education system was at the heart of a unitary state. In an ordinance published in the first year of his reign he stated:

 

“The schoolchildren should remind themselves constantly that every human being has a moral obligation to develop his intellectual powers as far as possible and that the study by which this is achieved is a duty imposed by God; that every citizen has a similar obligation to make himself capable of serving the state.”[17]

 

In the universities, practical (i.e. “useful”) subjects blossomed at the expense of the more ephemeral. The grammar schools also suffered: Joseph did not believe in over-production of intellectuals and imposed school fees, as a result of which attendance dropped rapidly. All schools that did not fit in with Joseph’s ideals were suppressed, and 813 were closed.

 

In the field of primary education, however, Joseph improved the situation enormously. He created many new primary schools at a time when it was a neglected area of education; he ensured that primary school teachers were paid proper salaries; he ensured attendance by offering financial rewards to parents whose children were regular attenders and fining those whose children were not. Finally, and unusually for the era, he laid emphasis on the education of girls. As a result, by 1790 there were relatively more children at school in the Austrian Empire than in any other part of Europe.

 

In considering the policies brought to bear by the Austrians on the Southern Netherlands one could argue that their aim was solely one of rationalisation. Through the policies applied by the Austrians in their occupied territories, in Belgium and elsewhere they were aiming at improved efficiency and a less costly system. This would have as a consequence a break-up of existing monopolies in education:

 

“It would be absolutely contrary to our goal to concentrate the literary profession under one sole class or order of persons, and such an interesting enterprise demands that its scope be spread as wide as possible in order to deem apt for this profession all whose who have the necessary qualities without regard for their state.” [18]

 

 The Austrian government wanted to fight the corporate monopolies - not least the clerical ones - in order to arrive at a maximal use of the available labour and talent available in the Southern Netherlands. This meant that the monopoly of education by the “schoolmeestergilde” of the 16th. and 17th. centuries and which was in fact in decline by the end of the 18th. century, could no longer rely on support from central government.  The end of control by the guilds meant a total review of the teacher training and control system. Joseph’s plan was to re-establish a whole teacher training (“normaalscholen”) and inspection system, paid for with the proceeds of the dissolved monasteries and convents. In other sectors also where corporate control and education had waned, the Austrians tried  to give birth to new educational institutes, e.g. in the areas of crafts, of arts, and of medical care. This being said, Austrian initiatives in the field of education cannot be set apart from those in other areas, all of which were initiated with the intention of raising the productivity of the whole of the Southern Netherlands.

 

It was almost impossible in the Southern Netherlands to attempt to deal with education without dealing also with the Catholic Church. The founding of normaalscholen and the demise of the guild system would mean not only a diminution of the power of the clergy in the whole system of appointment of teachers, but also a dragooning of capital, both personal and corporate, which was controlled by the Church. The regulations concerning the dissolution of the “un-necessary” religious houses brought a double-effect into play: some houses could escape dissolution by making themselves useful in the educational field, whilst the proceeds from the sale of others was dedicated to education.

 

Even the secular clergy were not exempt from these measures, and the planned general overhaul of the parish system also had implications for educational policy. The reorganisation of training for the country clergy, through the foundation of the General Seminary had as one of its goals the formation of the parish priest to become the “village educator”. In this way, the General Seminary can be considered as a corollary of the normaalscholen, although their initial aim was the formation of teachers in the towns. However little these plans for the secular clergy may have had effect, the same is not true of the Austrians’ policy towards religious. Their slowing down of the formation of “modern” religious communities, and the secularisation of old ones, gave birth to a new population group from which many of the eighteenth century volksscholen had to recruit their personnel: “pious ladies” and lay brothers. As Bonenfant[19]indicates, some new male congregations of about this date were specifically founded as congregations of Brothers in order to avoid these problems. He makes specific reference to the (slightly later) Broeders van Dale, but points out that even the Brothers of the Christian Schools could not entirely avoid problems.[20] One could speculate that the original foundation of the Josephites as the Brothers of Mary and Joseph might in some way have been based on a fear of a repeat of this situation, but this speculation should also be seen against the limited intellectual capacity of the first Brothers. Many nineteenth century Belgian congregations are little more than a formalisation of the informal communities dating from the end of the previous century,[21] and who provided the personnel for the ever increasing number of “charity” institutions associated with public education.

 

It is clear, however, that Austrian education policy in the Southern Netherlands should be seen as in integral part of a “total package” of reforms in which education was not singled out for special treatment.

 

Developments in primary education in the last quarter of the eighteenth century meant that adequate education was available to those who could pay for it. This did not, however, help those who could not pay, and those provisions which were in force could not stem the growing tide of pauperism. Urban schools for the poor were evolving from open day schools to closed boarding schools with a limited number of “charity boarders”. Sunday catechism classes, which the Jesuits had organised in many Belgian cities, were abolished with the Order in 1773. After that, the poor themselves intervened and many unqualified mistresses found themselves looking after children for next to nothing. Central government and some bishops wished to intervene and many plans were drawn up and even tried.[22] Practically every plan for the foundation of schools for the poor had as first objective “to make the children hard-working from a tender age”.[23] These schools were aimed at the reduction of pauperism by “getting them used to successful work from their childhood, and giving them, along with a useful occupation of their time, some instruction and good habits.”[24] They were to open their doors to all, and to be “where the poor might send their children for them to continue to learn how to work at the same time as being instructed in the principles of our religion”.[25]

 

It is known that the problem of pauperism was important for Austrian policies: a lot of the measures undertaken by Joseph II which might otherwise be seen as “cruel” might be justified by his zeal for the reformation of provision for the poor and their education.[26] The profits from the dissolution of the “useless” religious houses and confrèries were all destined in some way for the creation of facilities through which poverty could be fought. The failure to produce concrete results from these initiatives was one of the causes of the revolution - Art suggests that the money might have found its way into Joseph II’s own purse.[27]

 

In the eighteenth century there occurred a considerable increase in the number of schools available for primary education (lager onderwijs) especially in the context of popular education (volksonderwijs). There was a particular growth in the field of primary schools for girls. Both the government and committed burghers were keen to combat pauperism through the medium of education.

 

D’Hoker (1982), taking his figures from Geysen (1957), notes that in Leuven there were 10 primary schools in 1700, and 65 in 1795. Of the 65, 52 were girls’ schools. 

 

An important subgroup of these schools, especially in view of what Van Crombrugghe was later to found in Geraardsbergen, were the schools given over to vocational education (beroepsonderwijs), and it can be noted that most of the “new” primary schools had a vocational emphasis. Broadly speaking, these vocational schools can be divided into two categories: the weeschool (orphanage) and the werkschool (workhouse - though not exactly in the English sense). The Josephites would begin by running a werkschool in Geraardsbergen.

 

As an example of the first type - the weeschool - D’Hoker, relying on information from Warmoes (1962) gives a full description of the Bogaardenschool in Brugge. This school, which had actually been founded in 1513, was a boarding school for orphans, waifs and strays from the age of 9 or 10. These children would stay in the school for a maximum of 6 years, during which their education would pass through two phases. In the first phase they would be taught reading and writing and, to a lesser extent, arithmetic. From the age of 13 the technical training began, though it should be noted that that the cleverest boys would not follow the vocational route but would receive a secondary education, though, as the century progressed, the relative number of boys in this category declined.

 

The vocational training was not given in the school itself: rather the boys were contracted out to master tradesmen in the city who would, over two or three years, give them a full training in the trade. In the evenings the boys came back to the school to follow an hour of reading and writing. Even on Sundays and feastdays there were two hours of literary training (literair onderricht) and throughout the whole process there was a strong current of moral and religious education[28].

 

In the second category of school - werkschool, sometimes called handwerkschool - the technical training was given in the school itself. For the most part, these schools were run by women of the lowest class, and, although reading and writing would be on the timetable, few of the women could actually read and write themselves. As far as work training was concerned, this would include simple hand crafts: sewing, knitting, carpet weaving, spinning and lace manufacture. Most of the werkscholen only dealt in one craft and by far the most widespread was lace manufacture. Indeed, many of the schools were known by their specific craft rather than under the generic title of werkschool: nayschole, breischole, spinneschole, spellewerckschole etc. In these schools the pupils spent practically the whole day at work, the silence broken only by prayer and hymns.

 

Because of the intellectual poverty of the ladies who ran these schools, the pupils mostly received such academic formation as was available from the local Sunday School[29], where, apart from catechism, basic literacy might also be taught. It should be remembered that, at least in the early part of the century, the local koster (usually translated as “sacristan” but probably more akin to the Anglican “sexton”) who would run the Sunday School with the priest was probably also the local schoolmaster.

 

The costs of these schools was for the most part covered by the sale of whatever the children produced, and it would be some years before a child’s parents could expect  to earn anything from the child’s work.

 

Many of these schools were established by parish clergy, by orders of nuns, or by begijnen or pious women. Sometimes it would be the well-off burghers of a city who would establish such a school for the relief of the poor. Sometimes again it would be widows and spinsters who would set up these schools with themselves as schoolmistresses. In some cases, particularly in the cities, this last instance would lead to what were called sluikscholen - or “clandestine schools”. Because of the lack of any form of educational qualification on the part of these well-intentioned ladies, they were unable to join the teachers’ guilds, a necessary affiliation in the cities. Warmoes (1962) cites the case in Brugge where the ladies attempted to gain credibility by joining the linen workers’ guild - de gilde der lijnwadiers - instead.

 

It is clear that the system of werkscholen cannot be seen per se as an answer to the educational needs of the poorer classes. Primarily their end, if not their aim, was to remove the poor from the streets and to provide a trained workforce rather than an educated populace. In most cases there were long days of work with a minimum of academic input leading to virtual exploitation of the children.

 

In theory, weescholen and werkscholen were established out of charity and sympathy for the poor. However, the actual reasons run deeper than that. Other motives stand out: a concern for public order in the face of widespread pauperism, and instinct for self-preservation on the part of the wealthier classes. Town councils wished to be freed from the considerable financial burdens which pauperism caused them. Even the clergy and religious orders were not free of practical considerations: they hoped to gain vocations from the lower classes.

 

“The support of the Bishop in the matter of the schools for the people was very important. However his contributions were mainly directed at those pupils who wished to study further and eventually to become priests, either regular or secular. The help offered by the diocese was, therefore, primarily and uniquely targeted at vocations from amongst the lower classes.” [30]

 

Many of the lay schoolmistresses simply saw the establishment of a werkschool as a way of making a living and the benefit of the children was subordinated to their own financial profit.

 

The contribution of the werkscholen to the intellectual development of the popular classes was negligible.[31] This can be attributed to the lack of academic education per se in such schools, the general dearth of qualifications among those who ran them. Even on a spiritual level the accent was on dull acceptance.

 

D’Hoker comes to the following conclusion:

 

“Maybe the werkscholen did succeed in achieving their moral and social goals, but from a human - and even economic - standpoint they certainly did not. In this sense they do not deserve the description of “technical education”. To often the werkscholen were work establishments rather than educational establishments.[32]

 

D’Hoker also (p.108) describes the establishment of a religious werkschool in Veltem. It would be useful to look at the description he gives, and the conclusions he draws from it, since there are some parallels to be drawn with the first school founded by Van Crombrugghe in Geraardsbergen. His description is based on that given by Bulteel (1978) in his history of the Sisters of the Annunciation of Heverlee - this was an order which grew from the nucleus of a small group of women - vrome dochters (pious daughters) - who helped de Clerk in Veltem, just as the small group of women who helped Van Crombrugghe in Geraardsbergen would form the nucleus of the his order of sisters.

 

Petrus Jacobus de Clerk was the parish priest of Veltem, near Leuven. He was struck by the material and religious poverty of his parishioners and, after several failed initiatives, opened a werkschool in his parish in 1787: the school was called eene school van Bermhertigheyt - a school of mercy. In the school, pupils received (gratis) instruction in various crafts, e.g. spinning and sewing, as well as in reading and writing. It is also expressly stated:

 

“...that they be instructed in christian knowledge; that they be inspired to good morals; a taste for good order; an inclination to and affection for work; and also that when the children are not working for themselves their work should be esteemed and that a salary should be paid, that is, what they earn by their work.”[33]

 

D’Hoker’s conclusions following on from this description are worth quoting in full as they will have a bearing on Van Crombrugghe’ later work in the early part of the evolution of the Josephites.

 

“Out of Christian compassion De Clerk answered the needs of the people. He understood that there was a real connection between material and spiritual poverty. For him, the opening of a werkschool was the best way to the material, moral and religious salvation of the poor. In this sense he distanced himself from the traditional stance of the Church in the field of education, which was, in the spirit of the counter-reformation, to concern itself principally with the forming of an upper class elite and the catechesis of the ordinary people. The werkshool offered an education which was more à propos to the needs of the time and which had a clear character of necessity. In this sense it followed to a certain degree some of the pedagogical ideas of the Enlightenment: adaptive pedagogy, utilitarian education, reduction of poverty through education. The thinkers of the Enlightenment defended the notion of sound education for the masses but at their own level.”[34]

 

At the level of secondary education two types can be distinguished: the algemeen-vormend (general education) and beroepsgericht onderwijs (technical education). The first type was generally available in the collèges or Latin schools where there would be a fairly broad syllabus of the humanities. In the time of the Austrian Netherlands there were about seventy such schools.[35] The teaching was done by regular or secular clergy, and the involvement of lay teachers was minimal. These schools De Vroede calls “public schools” in order to distinguish them from the smaller, private Latin schools run by lay teachers, priests, or ex-Jesuits after the suppression of the order. De Vroede states that little information is available concerning these private Latin schools. De Vroede also indicates a paucity of information concerning another type of secondary school: the non-Latin schools which he calls instituten, pensionaten or Franse (Waalse) scholen (institutes, boarding schools or French (Walloon) schools.[36]  These schools can be placed in the “secondary” category, but more often than not also gave primary education. These schools seem to have been well-established throughout the 18th. century and into the 19th., but there was often friction between their staffs and those of the “public” schools. Van Crombrugghe himself attended two of these schools,[37] the Hermitage de Wilhours near Ath, which he attended from 1802-3, and the Pensionnat de Wulf in Gent from 1804-6. The Hermitage de Wilhours had been suppressed in 1796 but was re-opened after the law of the Year X. In the Archives of the Josephites, Melle, there is a letter from Salvator Jacobs, architect, of Ath which indicates that according to his researches in the archives of the town of Ath, a hermitage had been founded in the 8th. century and that by 1663 it had become a monastic school. In 1793 it became the Institution du Pensionnat Royal de Wilhours. Jacobs also indicated that the archives show no activity between 1796 and 1806. A circular sent to parents outlining the curriculum[38] indicates that the curriculum included: catechism, reading, writing, arithmetic, elements of Latin, geography, English, music and dance. Garcia[39] notes that this was a typical curriculum for an instituut. Of the Pensionnat de Wulf no information remains.

 

Although there had been some moves towards a modernisation of the curricula of the collèges since the 1750’s, in general they remained in the mainstream of the humanistic tradition.[40] Modern languages, mathematics and natural sciences were by and large absent. However, by the end of the century in a few towns, for example Antwerpen[41] and Luik[42] language teachers and mathematics teachers (who even taught book keeping) were active. De Vroede also notes[43] the opening of a free mathematical school in Luik in 1781.

 

Although the teaching in the collèges was given by religious, it does not necessarily follow that the schools were also owned by the orders. The staff of a collège could be appointed by the local government, by the local magistrate in conjunction with the parish priest, or by the magistrate in conjunction with the trustees of the school. In these cases, the staff would be secular clergy. On the other hand, the local administration could give the direction of a school completely over to an order. De Vroede cites the following cases:[44] Veurne (Oratorians[45] since 1714), Zinnik (Oratorians since 1709), Hoogstraten (Franciscans since 1688), Tongeren (Augustinians since 1625), Edingen (Augustinians since 1623) and Kortrijk (Jesuits since the end of the 16th. century). A town council could, as happened in Stavelot[46] (and later happened, albeit without civil intervention and for different reasons, in Aalst under Van Crombrugghe - see the tweede kostschool), establish another school alongside the collège already being run by regular clergy. 

 

Whether the town council appointed the staff or the religious superior, the town would to a greater or lesser extent, bear the  financial burden of the school.[47] Could one not, therefore, conclude that these were “public” schools? The town councils treated them as such, including the Jesuit schools. It is interesting to note, as Chanterie points out, in 1793 when the Jesuit schools were closed the insistence of the authorities of various towns on the maintenance of their college.[48]

 

New initiatives on the part of the government in 1773 created a new situation. Previous to that time the central government had had some power over schools and over local authorities, but De Vroede[49] indicates that the lack of specific information makes it difficult to come to any conclusions. However, the fact that there is so little information suggests that intervention by central government was very limited.

 

However, in the later 1770’s this situation changed, and De Vroede indicates that the government now wished to direct and co-ordinate all the collèges at the level not only of the infrastructure but also of curriculum. Chanterie[50] suggests that they were not seeking a monopoly, but a clear directive role.

Authority over the kleine scholen cannot be considered in globo since there was a great deal of regional variation. In the 16th. century it was the Church authorities alone who exercised authority over these schools. By the 17th. century the civil authorities were in some places sharing the responsibility with the Church, in others taking it over completely, and in yet others leaving it entirely to the Church.[51] Conflicts between the two were not uncommon and continued into the 18th. century.

 

In any case, the appointment of a teacher by the civil authority could not take place until guarantees of the candidate’s “Catholicity” had been received, and that he had made the Oath of Fidelity to the Church (eed van trouw aan het geloof); this meant that discussion between the civil and Church authorities was inevitable. This meant that frequently the candidate was tested for his suitability by a committee with both civil and Church members. In those cities where there was a teachers’ guild (Antwerpen, Brugge, Brussel, Gent, Ieper, Kortrijk, Luik and Mechelen[52]) the candidate would also be required to show a qualification (bekwaamheidsproef) from the guild. As far as proceedings actually within the school were concerned, it was the Church authorities who wielded the principal power, since the principal aims of these schools were religion and morals. The civil authorities seem to have had little to say in the matter, and, in the towns, where there is a record of magisterial intervention it concerns the protection of authorised candidates from non-authorised.[53]

 

The situation is further complicated by the fact that the salaries of the teachers were paid from various sources; not only the civil coffers, but also from charitable foundations and contributions from parents. It could sometimes be the whole community who contributed, and therefore had some influence over who was appointed. Matthieu[54] notes that in most villages in the province of Henegouwen the candidate who had been jointly chosen by the parish priest and the civil authority would be presented to the assembled citizens after Mass on Sunday, thereby “validating” their choice.

 

Further blurring of distinctions comes from the fact[55] that the functions of schoolmaster and sexton were often filled by the same person, generally a layman, who would, therefore, be paid by both civil and Church authorities. As the appointment of the sexton could, in some cases, be a civil appointment the web becomes even more tangled.

 

Although there are clear regional differences, the number of religious involved in teaching in the kleine scholen was smaller than that of lay persons.[56] In this sense, the laicisation of education was more developed in the kleine scholen than in the collèges.

 

As far as primary and secondary public education is concerned one can conclude that the Church authorities continued to play a major role, but that that of the civil authorities can easily be underestimated.[57] The big difference between this and the collèges lies in the non-intervention of central government, which maintained its non-interventionist stance right until the end of the Ancien Régime.

 

Although there were some changes through the century in the ideas of the ruling classes concerning education for the masses in general the awareness of social class and “suitable” education remained the same. De Vroede[58] illustrates this point from two sources: the Plan d’éducation pour la jeunesse de Liège of 1773[59] and the third plan developed in Brussels at the instigation of G. Cornet de Grez by the Comité Jésuitique.[60] According to these, the social class in which one was born determined the type of education which one was to receive.

 

“That lower class children should receive the same education as nobles was not only laughable, but dangerous to the State.”[61]

 

Children of labourers and tradesmen were to strive to develop their physical and technical skills and to grow into a simple lifestyle; a completely different lifestyle was foreseen for the clergy, lawyers, doctors etc. For them was planned:

 

“strength of mind and heart, talents, sciences, politeness, good manners, an acquaintance with the ways of the world, etc.”[62]

 

whereas for the working class it was a case of:

 

 “simplicity of manner, docility of behaviour, resignation to doing without luxuries.”[63]

 

The kleine scholen restricted their curriculum to reading, writing and religious instruction, though writing was in the main considered a luxury for the working class.[64] One question which remains unanswered, according to De Vroede, is that of who actually went to these schools? We do not even know what was the social standing of the parents who paid for their children to go to the schools. The presence of paying and free pupils at these schools underlines the difference between them and the werkscholen, but we know nothing of the difference in clientèle between them and the boarding schools, whether there was a difference between boys and girls, between the towns and the countryside.

 

One area where more information is available concerns the clientèle of the Latijnse scholen. The information that does exist leads De Vroede[65] to conclude that an education in the humanities was not exclusively the reserve of the upper classes.

 

One major factor is the fact that the Jesuits and other religious orders (except the Augustinians) offered education for free.[66] Conversely, collèges run by secular clergy were not. It would be possible, therefore, in an area where there was a collège run by an order for a child of lower class origin to receive a classical education.

 

If the education itself were free, boarding costs, on the other hand, were high. De Vroede[67]quotes an average of 120 - 200 Brabant guilders, to be set against an average wage of 104 - 174 for a master bricklayer. The high cost of boarding meant that there came to exist different levels of boarding - e.g. provision of heating, recreation facilities etc. - and a distinction between tafelieren or costcoopers (“full” boarders) and chambristes who lived in the school but looked after their own catering arrangements[68]. Concerning the different levels of boarding, Walters[69] quotes the following five categories listed in 1782 in the collège of Oudenaarde:

 

1. Those who take all meals with the teachers - 150 Brabant guilders.

2. Those who take their midday meal at home but in other respects are like the above - 16 pounds.

3. Those who eat only at midday with the teachers but who for breakfast and in the evening receive only good beer - 100 Brabant guilders.

4. Those who only take soup and beer - 6 pounds.

5. Those who take their midday meal at home but in other respects are like the above - 5 pounds.[70]

 

It was also possible to attend certain collèges for nothing through bursaries. In many Oratorian-run collèges there were pupils who paid their living costs by working in the school.

 

The question has to be asked, therefore, how many poor pupils actually did attend the collèges? De Vroede[71]is rather vague in his answer to this question: according to him they were “not many but a significant minority”. Similarly, the sons of the nobility were not particularly well represented either.[72] Numbers varied from school to school. De Vroede[73]based on information from Lindemans[74] concludes that most of the pupils were from the upper and lower middle classes and from the pachters[75].

 

However, the Theresian reforms brought with them the end of free education in the Austrian Netherlands, and in 1777 the paying of school fees was made obligatory. By doing this, the government wanted to limit the education of the lower classes without eliminating it entirely - the Royal Commission for Studies could be requested in individual cases to provide free education. A justification for this was given by de Nelis[76]to the Academy: free education lowered the intellectual level of education by destroying the spirit of competition among teachers; paying would have the opposite effect.

 

In the  French years (1795-1814) De Vroede states that the intention of the French authorities was to pull down the whole of the existing education system to make way for a new one.[77] Specifically the control of education could not remain in the hands of the Church, and Church schools were to be replaced by official state controlled institutions. In contrast to the previous situation with the Austrians, this was a political, rather than pragmatic, decision.

 

A number of regulations were issued in the years 1796-1798 which were to have disastrous consequences:[78]

 

1. The suppression of religious orders and the  confiscation of their property - regulation of 15 Fructidor IV (1 September 1796). Only female orders dedicated to education and the care of the sick were excepted, but until no later than 5 Frimaire VI (25 November 1797).

 

2. Imposition on all, including teachers and all priests, of the oath of hatred for royalty - law of 19 Fructidor V (5 September 1797).

 

3. The obligation to teach the “Declaration of the rights of man and of the citizen” as well as republican ethics - declaration of 17 Pluviose VI (5 February 1789).

 

Given the nature of the existing teaching corps, these regulations led to the demise of almost all the collèges.  The existing state collèges remained open pending the establishment of the new écoles centrales, albeit without religious instruction on the timetable. As far as primary education was concerned the effects were less drastic, given that there were many more lay teachers than religious and that the sheer numbers of kleine scholen made it difficult for the laws to be enforced. Apart from anything else, the control of the kleine scholen was entrusted to the local civic authorities who were not necessarily keen to implement the new regulations.

 

On the other side of the coin, the Constitution of the year III give rise to the “freedom” (i.e. freedom from Church control) of education. Many ex-religious and ex-beguines came back into education as trained and experienced individuals. This was not the real aim of the revolutionary powers, who wished to establish a net of completely lay public schools. These will be dealt with under the same headings as for the situation before 1795.

 

Following the law of 3 Brumaire IV (25 October 1795), and implemented in the annexed departments on the 7 Pluviose V (26 January 1797), secondary education was to be given in écoles centrales, and between 1797 and 1798 such schools were established in the capital of each of the nine departments. They were replaced by lycées by the law of 11 Floréal X (1 May 1802), but only four were actually established: Brussel, Luik, Gent and Brugge.[79] As these did not cover the need for secondary education the same law also established écoles sécondaires, which were also named as collèges after 1808.

 

All the schools listed above were public schools, but State intervention took various different forms. The organisation and finance of the écoles centrales came under the departmental authorities who appointed the teachers subject to approval from central government. Day to day running of the school was overseen by an administrative council, chosen by and from the staff itself.

 

The lycées were directly under the control of central government, who appointed the staff and the boarding pupils. The town authorities, however, were responsible for the finance.

 

The écoles sécondaires were left entirely to local authorities and individual initiative, and about thirty of these schools were established.[80] A school established by an individual could be recognised by the State as an école sécondaire but had, according to the law of 19 Vendemiaire XII (12 October 1803), to have at least three teachers including the headmaster, and at least fifty pupils. The number of such schools is not known.

 

Lycées and écoles sécondaires, and indeed all educational establishments, were controlled as from 1808 by the Imperial University which was established in that year.[81]

 

The écoles céntrales had only lay teachers, admittedly with a number of ex-priests among them, and there was no religious instruction. In the lycées on the other hand, religious instruction had a privileged place, a chaplain was appointed and priests were on the staff. The local écoles sécondaires were, de facto, confessional. Almost all had priests as headmasters and, in 1813, priests and religious constituted a third of the staff.[82]

 

The écoles centrales had no boarding sections, and therefore the pupils were almost entirely local. De Vroede poses the question: from which social class(es) did they come?

 

He notes[83] that there are different answers to this question depending on locale.

 

In Brugge and Maastricht there were, broadly speaking, two sorts of pupils: 1. sons of people who were involved with the republican regime: professionals, lawyers, teachers, printers; 2. sons of retailers, tradesmen, innkeepers and farmers. In Brugge the first type was the majority, in Maastricht the two types had almost equal representation. In both cases the upper middle class and the free trades were virtually absent. On the other hand, at the école centrale of Gent in 1803-4 there were few children of the professional classes and many children of retailers, tradesmen and manual workers. It is noted that some courses were only followed by the lower class children.[84]

 

De Vroede concludes[85] that the écoles centrales simply took their clientèle from wherever they happened to be situated, generally children of the middle class rather than privileged children. Even thought the education was not free, a quarter of the pupils from each section[86]could be taken in free, and the government allocated twenty bursaries to each school. Unfortunately these bursaries were handed out fairly indiscriminately and they were discontinued at the beginning of the year X. There was also money available from the foundations enjoyed by the former collèges and which, according to the law of 25 Messidor V (13 July 1797) had to be applied to public education.

 

The lycées had boarders and their clientèle was, therefore, not restricted to the local population. As a result, their clientèle seemed to come from a higher class. That the lycées were popular can also be attributed to the fact that the government established no less than 150 scholarships per lycée for boarders. Such pupils were known as élèves nationaux and were principally the sons of directors of businesses, judges and soldiers.

 

Neither in the écoles centrales, nor in the lycées, nor in the écoles sécondaires was there any provision for the teaching of modern languages.[87] De Vroede states that this is probably one of the reasons for the establishment of so many private schools - institutions and pensionnats where such subjects were on the timetable. The College de Melle under Van Wymelbeke was one such school.

 

At the same time, there was no provision for secondary education for girls. Although religious orders were forbidden under Napoleon to re-form, many did (albeit illegally) to fill this lacuna in the educational system.[88]

 

De Vroede indicates that there is insufficient evidence on which to estimate the importance of the private sector at this time, but poses the hypothesis that it was rather greater than the public.

 

primary education

 

The law of 3 Brumaire IV laid down that in each canton one or more écoles primaires should be established. The appointment of the staff was entrusted to the departmental authorities, and the candidates were to be examined by an education committee. The philosophy of these schools was to be that of republicanism, and its ethics were to be taught in place of religion. The whole matter became a fiasco[89]and governmental plans were thwarted by local authorities. Few candidates were put forward and, in the years VI to X only 350 primary school teachers were appointed. As a result, although some écoles primaires were full, most had few or no pupils at all. It was only after the law of 11 Floréal X that primary education started to grow again, and this can in no small measure be attributed to the restoration of religious instruction and practice.

 

Just as is the case with secondary education, there is little information available concerning private primary schools. However De Vroede opines that their importance was, in some regions, greater than that of public primary education. He quotes the cases of a) the Schelde department where, at the end of 1811, 31.2% of primary schools were public, and 68.8% private and b) the Hasselt area where in 1817 there were only 41 public primary schools to cover 108 communities.

personnel.

 

In the French period it is certain that the number of religious involved in primary education declined, but there is no evidence as to the extent.[90] As far as lay teachers are concerned a similar situation existed to that under the Ancien Régime: i.e. that teaching did not provide a sufficient income on which to live. Frequently, therefore, teaching was combined with another job, often that of sexton, but also with others such as:

 

“...agricultural workers, casual labourers, bakers, watchmakers, shopkeepers, clerks, tailors, weavers, gardeners, surveyors, domestic servants, clog makers, smiths, innkeepers, woodsmen, bricklayers, artists, foresters, village policemen, etc.”[91]

 

A concluding question: Did the French period change the structure of education much, or is it better to speak of continuity?

 

One thing is clear: no radically new kinds of educational establishments were founded. Nothing much changed as far as curriculum was concerned. Only in the écoles centrales was the approach radically revolutionary: in the lycées the clocks were, if anything, turned back and in the écoles sécondaires the same broad lines as previously were followed. In the field of primary education there was nothing new, and it was not until 1812 that any new courses appeared. Much was planned and embarked upon at the level of organisation but in fact little changed. (De Vroede says it “fell into the old rut” - viel het terug in de oude plooi.[92])

 

The formation of the United Kingdom of the Netherlands arose out of a British instigated idea to create a buffer state against the French by uniting Holland with Belgium. Discussions to formalise the idea were still continuing at the Congress of Vienna when Willem of Oranje jumped the gun and proclaimed himself King of the Netherlands. Official approval from the Congress of Vienna followed later in the year.[93] It was in this Dutch period that Van Crombrugghe’s early foundations took place.

 

It was after the dismemberment of the French Empire, the Treaty of London (20 June 1814) following that of Paris (30 May 1814) laid down the conditions for the union of Holland and Belgium under the rule of Willem of Oranje-Nassau. In this document, the powers demonstrated their desire to operate “the most perfect amalgam between the two countries” by placing them  on the same footing with an absolute equality. A difficult task, if not impossible, and based solely on their right of conquest.

 

The “Fundamental Law” promulgated by Willem for Holland on the 30 March 1814 put education exclusively between the hands of the King. It also accorded protection and tolerance to all religions, but the Reformed Christian religion was declared that of the Sovereign and was specially favoured.

 

On the 1 August 1814, in the address he gave on taking possession of the Belgian provinces, Willem said: “To honour and protect your religion will be among my dearest duties and my efforts will be unceasing.” In this he was only confirming the decree of the 7th. March 1813, made by the allied powers to the Bishop of Namur and the Vicars-General of the other Dioceses and implicitly accepted by an act of 21 July, with the conditions imposed by the allies: “The government will hold inviolable spiritual power as laid down in Canon law. As a result, ecclesiastical affairs will remain in the hands of  the spiritual authorities, who will look after everything in the interest of the Church.” On the 22 April 1815 the King named a commission to revise the Fundamental Law. On the following 25th July, Mgr de Broglie and the heads of the dioceses sent a remonstration to the King.[94]

 

Basing their complaint on the decree of the 7th March, they brought to the notice of the King that, if he were to assure to all religions equal favour and protection, which would be in opposition to the long-standing practice of the Church in the Belgian provinces, they would oppose it with every energy.

 

Note that once again, as was the case under the Austrians, there was the same intolerance of government toleration.

 

On the 2nd August, the Bishop of Gent addressed a pastoral instruction to the clergy and people of his Diocese in which, having incriminated article 191 (liberty for all religions guaranteed by the State) and article 196 (all subjects of the King to have equal opportunity of employment without regard to religious belief) he adds: “we solemnly protest against these articles ... and we forbid anyone in our Diocese from following them in any way or under any pretext whatever ...” The Bishop of Tournai did the same, and the Bishop of Namur saw his instruction confiscated at the printers, in spite of the freedom of the press demanded by the law!

 

On the 18th. August, the Belgian “notables” met in Brussels: the Fundamental Law was rejected by a majority of 269. [95]

 

The major goal of Willem was the fusion of Belgium and Holland; to achieve this, he believed that he should insensitively delete all trace of the Belgian character.[96] He feared above all two obstacles: the influence of France with whom history had linked Belgium for 20 years, and that of the Roman Catholic  Church which was very alive in Belgium. Above Catholicism he was constantly aware of the spectre of Papal power. He resolved, therefore, to take into his own hands the education of youth both ecclesiastical and lay, and to have them brought up by men of his own choosing.

 

So began to appear the decrees which would put this into practice. Nobody could have a job any more if they did not know the Dutch language (30 October 1822); nobody could teach or be a member of a teaching body without a licence issued by the agents of the government (February 1824); no Latin school, college or athenaeum could exist without the express permission of the department of the interior - or they would be suppressed at the end of September 1824 (1st decree of 14 June); at Leuven a Collège Philosophique would be established which would accept clerical students, and the education would be given by three professors named by the minister of the Interior in consultation with the Archbishop of Malines (2nd decree of the 14th. June), and nobody would be admitted to Seminaries except those who had successfully studied at the Collège (11 July). Finally, the decrees of the 14 August 1825 and subsequent days finalised the subjugation of ecclesiastical education by forbidding entry to the universities and the Collège Philosophique to any Belgian who had had their secondary education or other academic or theological education out of the Kingdom. It was due to these decrees that the Collège d’Alost was closed, and that Van Crombrugghe went to live in Gent.[97]

 

To return to 1815 we are in the days preceding the Council of Vienna, united to Holland under the sceptre of Willem van Oranje - “a marriage of convenience” as has been said, in which the two peoples were not consulted and which lead to a state of permanent mistrust. The Fundamental Law gave to the King the absolute control of education. The Bishops and notably Mgr de Broglie protested, but it was in vain. Come what may, the King, neutral at the outset, succeeded in raising the level of education. He founded Royal Athenea in the major towns of the country. Provisionally he allowed the free collèges, generally directed by clergy (e.g. the Collège d’Alost) to remain open, but submitted them to strict inspection. For the development of primary education there was, in principle, a certain freedom. The Dutch government favoured the foundation of community schools, perfected their programmes and made efforts to better the quality of the teachers.  Everything would have been fine if Willem had left it there.  But soon, political considerations and religious proselytism compromised his efforts. The decrees of 14th June 1825 and the following days compounded the situation and set in motion what would logically lead to the 1830 revolution.

 

The establishment of the United Kingdom of the Netherlands did not mean an end to political problems for education in Belgium.  Willem, a Protestant,  was an “enlightened despot” in the mould of Joseph II. Naturally there were fears that his reign would impose limitations on Catholic control of education and, indeed, Willem’s attempts to gain government control of education did arouse suspicion and opposition from the Catholic hierarchy and clergy. The same Bishop de Broglie of Gent who had been imprisoned by Napoleon for his opposition was sentenced to banishment by Willem in 1817. In fact Willem’s attitude to education in Belgium were based, not around an initiative towards religious conversion but rather a pragmatic attempts to bring education under government control and impose a measure of unification for the general good of the country. Naturally enough, centres of opposition to this government control were subjected to close scrutiny. Broadly speaking the centres of opposition were those French-speaking collèges under the influence of ultramontane clergy. Van Crombrugghe's Collège d’Alost was a prime example.

 

A decree of 1816 established three state universities, Leuven, Gent and Liège, and a network of athanea (lycées) and gemeentelijke colleges (community colleges). The athanea were directly financed and organised by the state, but the state also retained the right of inspection and supervision of the gemeentelijke colleges.[98] The decree also established state provision for the formation of Catholic priests, abolishing the right to state subsidies and exemption from military service for those who did not attend them. A further decree of 1821 established similar controls over primary schools, insisting, among other things, that teachers needed a qualification, in the quest for which a candidate might be questioned as to his religious and moral opinions.

 

As far as religious orders were concerned, a report was drawn up in 1818 on all existing religious congregations (Van Crombrugghe's first congregation, the Brothers of Mary and Joseph was founded in 1817). Teaching congregations were forbidden to take final vows.[99] In 1824 all laws concerning education were applied to teaching congregations, and only those which were approved by the state were permitted to continue in existence. The final restrictions were applied by decree of 1825: only those Kolleges and Athanea having government approval were permitted to continue in existence, and no-one educated outside the country would be permitted to attend university in Belgium - this to stem the tide of young men who were being sent to France for their studies.[100] This decree was suppressed in 1829 as a result of strong opposition.

 

In many ways this was an unhappy union between geographical neighbours. Holland was officially Protestant, Belgium predominantly Roman Catholic. Flemish, spoken in the North of Belgium, was considered by the Dutch to be a “yokelised” version of the official language, but French, spoken in the South and by the wealthy of the North, was the language of society and government. Willem, described by Huggett as “ an enlightened despot from the eighteenth century with nineteenth century commercial overtones”[101] was determined to rule the new country firmly and, rather as Joseph II had done in the previous century introduced measures which were to alienate the already battered Belgian populace. He closed seminaries and dictated that French should be replaced by Dutch as the official language of Northern Belgium.

 

One of the ways in which the Dutch government subjugated education was by imposing books of its own choice. It proposed a double goal: the forced introduction of the Dutch language and disguised Protestant propaganda. The Dutch society “Tot nut van ‘t Algemeen” was particularly active in its proselytism, and  spread, in Belgium,  a large number of books which were clearly aggressively protestant. Van Crombrugghe took the initiative in founding a Catholic  society for the distribution of books to all, with the goal of fighting religious ignorance, to oppose the system of dogmatic tolerance (anathema to the minds of Belgian Catholics) which was becoming more and more widespread, and to combat the intrigues which were agitating against Catholic practice. [102]

 

Willem also introduced well-intentioned measures for the improvement of education, and it was these measures which were to cause the closure of Van Crombrugghe's Collège d’Alost in 1825. When the Belgian revolution broke out in August 1830 and attempts to quell it by armed force had failed Willem appealed to the great powers to help him but no help was forthcoming. Even after Leopold of Saxe-Coburg was installed as King of Belgium the Dutch army made a further invasion of Belgium but this initiative failed as Willem could not find support from other countries.

 

So, then, we have an historical overview, particularly from the educational point of view, of Belgium in the years from the beginning of the Austrian period to the end of Dutch rule in 1830. As a result of domination by foreign powers Belgium itself was a region in turmoil, unsure of itself having had its traditional values and modus operandi seriously undermined. In particular the position of the Roman Catholic Church had been weakened and, especially since the suppression of the Jesuits in 1773, its traditional role at the forefront of education demolished.  The urge for some sort of return to the status quo, to a golden age which, like many golden ages may never have existed, was great.

 

It was into this arena that Van Crombrugghe stepped and within which his educational work started to develop.

 

Since the publication of the M. Phil. thesis in 1997 a new book[103] has been published which gives further helpful insights into the educational background to the period of Van Crombrugghe’s work. This following section relies on information from that book[104].

 

To trace the beginning of Van Crombrugghe's educational heritage it is necessary firstly to trace the major lines of the development of the classical humanist education in Europe, and most specifically that given by the Jesuits. As has previously been stated, Van Crombrugghe's most formative educational experiences were as a pupil of the Fathers of the Faith at Amiens and as principal of the College of Alost, which had been directed by the Jesuits until their  suppression at the end of the eighteenth century.

 

At an earlier period, in the fifteenth century, what we would now call secondary schools were in fact integrated with universities and initially simply provided lodgings for the university students.  As time went past the colleges became more than just lodgings and ultimately became the places where lectures and tuition in the faculty of arts were given. Over an even longer timescale the colleges gradually became independent from the universities and began to offer tuition in their own right. The tuition which was given was at the level of the first two stages of the literary and philosophical course offered by the university. On the one hand instruction was given in Latin grammar, the first stage, and on the other hand syntax, poetry and Latin rhetoric which were the second stage. The third stage, that of philosophy, was given at the University itself. Completion of the third stage led to the award of the degree of bachelor.

 

In towns and cities where there was no University the colleges themselves were only able to offer the first two stages and therefore students had to move to the nearest university city in order to complete their education. It was in these smaller towns and cities that the independent college as we would later know them came into being, totally independent of any university. For the majority of students their education would cease at the end of this second stage, what we would now call secondary education.

 

Into the sixteenth century in many smaller towns the municipal authorities made efforts to establish their own secondary colleges which would produce a bourgeois elite of the type necessary for the furtherance of the developing middle class; lawyers, clerks, doctors etc. The colleges also contributed to the development of a new elite which Grootaers classes as the Liberal bourgeoisie,  the very class from which Van Crombrugghe was born[105]. At the same time the municipal authorities had to find teachers, hopefully inexpensive ones, in order to ensure of the future of the colleges. Many of these authorities were able to fill their needs by offering the direction of their colleges to the Jesuits; the Jesuits having had the experience of working in universities. As a result of this it came about that, all over Europe, many municipal colleges came to be in the hands of Jesuits. By 1640 the Jesuits ran 521 institutions and had 150,000 pupils[106]. Other congregations were also entrusted with municipal colleges, but they, too, tended also to be run along Jesuit lines. The suppression of the Jesuits in 1773 resulted in the immediate closure of more than 900 colleges[107]. This dissolution played into the hands of the Austrians as it broke the almost total monopoly of the Jesuits in secondary education. Seventeen colleges directed by the Jesuits in Belgium were closed allowing at least the opportunity for a radical reform of secondary education and the major fruit of these reforms was the appearance in 1777 of 15 Royal Colleges which differed from what had gone before in that they were not exclusively staffed by Clerics and also had a programme of studies which was, to a degree, secularised.  The French occupation moved even further in the role of the limitation of the social and political power of the Church, and attempted to pour higher education and, in particular secondary education, into the French mould. It should be noted however that the success of the French reforms was somewhat limited. The reforms instigated by the Dutch were somewhat more successful.

 

What for the reasons for the success of the Jesuit colleges? For Grootaers the principal reason was that the Jesuits had elaborated a coherent and original model of education: the Ratio Studiorum. This Ratio was promulgated in Rome in 1586 after a considerable period of experimentation and evaluation, and was finally published in 1599 and applied to all Jesuits colleges across Europe[108]. The Ratio Studiorum, according to Grootaers, contains an ideal, moral and social principles, an academic curriculum, and pedagogical methods. The goal of the Ratio Studiorum is to form " l'homme civil", that is to say:

 

"the cultivated individual thanks to his acquired familiarity with classical authors, sacred as well as profane, the critical individual who uses his reason and reflects in an independent manner."[109]

 

Grootaers also notes:

 

" the cultural humanist model is based on the mastering of the Latin language. This signifies at the same time a technical mastery of complex linguistic code and a cultural familiarity with the thoughts of the writers. In other words the notion of language signifies both a linguistic form and a basis for civilisation."[110]

 

The Ratio Studiorum, however, is not content with affirming this basic principle of humanism, that is, the mastering of language; its translates it into a curriculum which became uniform for all colleges and which involved a succession of stages. The idea of organising pupils into classes of different levels is an innovation which the Jesuits inherited from the Hieronymites, also known as the Brothers of the Common Life[111]. What the Jesuits did to improve on the model suggested by the Brothers was to integrate it into a curriculum and a programme of studies which was precise and systematic. The principal point of originality in the Ratio Studiorum, according to Grootaers, is the fact that Jesuit education was to a degree personalised. This, at the time, was most unusual. Jesuit education was adapted to the psychological characteristics of the pupils and to the age. It also aimed to stimulate personal activity on the part of the pupils and to limit, to a certain degree, direct and impersonal teaching[112]. Jesuit education recognises each one of the pupils as a complete individual. Furthermore, the Ratio Studiorum added to this individual intellectual progress a concern for the complete education of the person, integrating religious and moral aspects (Christian education) as well as the physical dimension (importance of sport and recreation) and artistic (the place given to music and drama[113]).

 

For a long time, the Jesuit model was applied in a boarding situation, even if, in urban colleges, half boarders were accepted. In the boarding schools the boarders were organised into different tables according to the amount of the parents paid. This model was replicated in Van Crombrugghe’s schools[114].

 

Under the Austrian regime in the Low Countries, which lasted from 1713 to 1794, the suppression of the Jesuits (in 1773) led to the beginnings of reforms. The first area in which the Austrian government proposed reform was the destruction of the monopoly of classical languages in the curriculum and the introduction of modern subjects. In particular this meant giving equal weight in the curriculum to Latin and French. The second area was that of centralisation of control of education and the prominence of the State in the direction of education. In 1777 a Royal Commission for Education began its work in Brussels and a new plan was published on the ninth of August 1777 to create 15 Royal Colleges directly under the control of the Austrian government. To a certain degree these Royal Colleges were intended to replace the suppressed Jesuit colleges. However, the Austrian government had mis-calculated the degree to which the Belgian people distrusted these reforms, and in order to the show at the least a degree of success certain traditions from the Jesuit colleges were maintained. So, for example, the tradition of public examinations and prize distributions at the end of the school year were continued[115] and were to be

 

“most carefully prepared, as they are to demonstrate to a sceptical and frequently hostile populace the excellence of the pedagogical methods approved by the government.[116]

 

There were financial consequences to these reforms. The Jesuit colleges and those of other congregations, with the exception of the Augustinians, offered free education. This did not mean, however, that everybody could afford to send their children to Jesuit colleges. It has been noted above that in the main Jesuit colleges were boarding schools, and, in effect, the boarding fees limited access to these colleges. The Theresian reforms of 1777 effectively abolished free education, imposing universal fees but, at the same time, providing a considerable number of scholarships and bursaries. By this means the Austrian government hoped to be able to control the intake of the colleges and, in particular, to restrict access to these colleges of pupils not belonging to the bourgeoisie. As a result of these restrictive measures the number of pupils attending the colleges during this period diminished.

 

The Royal Colleges existed side by side with the old colleges and were, in fact, in competition with them. However, broadly speaking, parents preferred to continue sending their children to the old colleges. The Austrian government decided to combat this tendency by making the Royal College of Brussels, where preference for the old colleges (and especially the Augustinian College) was greatest, into a " model school ".  This model school would enjoy enormous advantages; the best teachers, a huge and well selected library, lower fees and heated classrooms[117].  Nevertheless, in spite of all the objections levied against them, the Royal Colleges succeeding in attracting some 25% of the secondary school population, a fair figure bearing in mind that they represented 25% of the provision for secondary education. The global figure of pupils in secondary education in Belgium, however, fell continuously from about 1780 onwards. Grootaers notes that a significant proportion of the decline was due to children being sent abroad to study, notably to the Principality of Liege and to northern France [118]

 

Although reference has been made to the use of lay teachers in the Royal Colleges, one should not overestimate the degree to which this "laicisation" actually occurred.  The overall position was that lay teachers only constituted some 40% of secondary teachers, many College principals were secular priests, and it remained the case that many teachers were members of Religious Congregations[119].

 

During the French period, which lasted from 1794 to 1815, there was a further strengthening of the power of central government in the reform of the structures and curricula of the humanities.  In a radical manner the French authorities set about dismantling the old system, and especially, in 1796, the involvement of the Religious Congregations in education.  In fairly short order, the classical humanities ceased to exist, as did colleges directed by Religious Congregations. Even the Royal Colleges of the Austrian period were rapidly suppressed.

 

The Royal Colleges were replaced by "écoles centrales", or "central schools" whose programmes of study were inspired by the Encyclopaedists. This new programme gave priority to the teaching of French, Mathematics and Science, but retained an initiation into Greek and Latin culture. Each two year stage was given over to one particular area of knowledge: the first to Natural History and the classical Languages; the second to Mathematics and Experimental Science; the third to Belles-Lettres, History and Legislation[120].

 

The programme followed by the central schools was also underpinned by a reform of pedagogical methods, giving importance to intuition, observation and experimentation. For this reason each school had to have a natural history garden, Physics and Chemistry laboratories, natural history museums and a library.

 

For the Revolutionary French, education had to be totally under the control of the State. Just as, under the previous, Austrian, regime the reality of the situation did not necessarily correspond with the theory, so it was also with the French. From 1794 to the beginning of the first Empire in 1802 the State was unable to finance its desired initiatives in the field of education. This meant that in fact the real power in education remained at the level of local government or in the hands of private initiative. After the Concordat of 1802 central government recognised the reality of the situation and allowed some control to be officially in the hands of the above agencies.

 

Between 1797 and 1802 the revolutionary government insisted that all teachers should be Republicans and therefore anti-religious. Following the decree of 1797 all teachers had to take an "oath of hatred" and teach the "Declaration of the Rights of Man and the Citizen" (decree of 1798)[121].

 

From 1802, however, the role of the Church in secondary education came once more to the fore, and the clergy were able once more to take up the direction of secondary schools whose teaching staffs were a mixture of priests and laymen. The new curriculum of the Encyclopaedists also fell out of favour and the old model of humanities with the absolute priority of Latin and Greek returned. Religious Instruction also returned to the programme.

 

Why did both the Austrian and French reforms fail? For Grootaers it would seem that in both cases the "new" schools were patronised either by the allies of each new regime, or by minor functionaries seeking to attain an upward social mobility. The traditional elites continued to patronise traditional colleges, either in Belgium or abroad[122]. The hostility of these traditional elites to the reformed colleges was based on two factors: firstly they were wary of structural and pedagogical innovation and a perceived decline in discipline; secondly, and perhaps more importantly, because the reform colleges were the organs of occupying powers.

 

The Dutch period (1815 to 1830), continued the process of reform, but in a rather less radical manner. The insistence on Latin and on Greek, so beloved of the classical humanities, maintained its position whilst at the same time modern subjects such as Modern Languages, History and Geography were given an important place.  The Dutch government did, however, attempt to continue the process of centralisation of control of education which the Austrians and the French had set in motion. It was this whole question of State control of education which led to the alliance of the Catholics and the Liberals in 1830 and the successful attempt, in which Van Crombrugghe was fully involved, to have the freedom of education inscribed in the new Belgian constitution. One way in which the Church attempted to get around Dutch legislation was that the Catholic Bishops opened a new type of secondary education institution: the Minor Seminaries.  In theory these institutions were designed to prepare  potential priests for the Major Seminaries.  In fact a considerable number of the pupils had no ecclesiastical vocation whatsoever, and the development of the Minor Seminaries continued without any reference to the Dutch government at all. This was another area of potential conflict, as the Dutch did not recognise the freedom of education as a constitutional principle. On the contrary, Dutch law demanded that public education should be " un objet constant des soins du gouvernement". In 1816 the organisation of post primary education was confided to the state approved universities, community colleges and Athenea.  For the moment the Seminaries were tolerated.  However, in 1825 all institutions of secondary education which had been organised with out the Kings permission, for the most part Catholic institutions, were closed, thereby giving the monopoly of secondary education to those colleges and Athenea which were already under strict government control. It was at the same moment that the King also intervened in the formation of future priests by the establishment of the "collège philosophique" at Louvain.  It is perhaps not surprising that against this background one of the first acts of the newly constituted Belgian independent state was to legislate for the freedom of education.

 

It should not be thought that this new, legalised freedom of education immediately introduced a "brave new world" in Belgium.  On the contrary, from one point of view it threw education, particularly at the secondary level, into disarray.  Up to this time central government had imposed state-controlled schools on local communities without necessarily providing the necessary funds to run them.  One of the consequences of the introduction of freedom of education was that many of these local communities immediately closed the state imposed secondary schools, often putting the vacated buildings at the disposal of the local Bishop for the establishment of a Church funded college.  Quite naturally, in these cases, the Bishops jumped at the opportunity, often bringing themselves into direct competition with colleges run by Religious Congregations.  This was certainly the case in Grammont and, to a lesser degree, in Louvain where eventually concordats had to be signed between the Josephite colleges and the Diocesan colleges.  In Brussels the establishment of a Diocesan college nearby was the cause of the premature closing of the Josephite College in 1858.

 

In the immediate wake of Belgian independence in 1831 a special commission was set up to investigate the situation of secondary education in Belgium and to come up with the plan which would have as its aim to give to the State a primary role in its organisation whilst at the same time respecting the constitutional principle of the freedom of education. The commission would establish the subjects which were to be taught and would also lay down the timetable of classes. It was the work of this commission which would lead to the first law on secondary education which was promulgated on the first of June 1850. The reorganisation foreseen by the commission was wide-ranging and radical. In future, education in Belgium would have a double goal.  As noted by Devroye (1843):

 

"Secondary education in State colleges (or Athenea) will be organised according to one model having the double goal of preparing young people for academic study and to give such knowledge as may be useful to those who are destined for business, the arts, and industry.[123]"

 

So in these Athenea two sections were established: the one being orientated towards University (“section des humanités anciennes”), the other towards careers in industry, business and the arts (“section professionnelle”).  This second section was instituted by the law of 1850 and was re-baptised the “section des humanités modernes” by a Royal decree of the 31st August 1887. By September 1851 the “section professionelle” had already been subdivided: one subdivision had a commercial orientation, preparing pupils for business careers; the second subdivision had a scientific orientation, preparing pupils for the entrance examination for special engineering schools. The third section, with an industrial orientation, had by 1860 been fused with and absorbed by the commercial section.[124]

 

A further educational distinction was made by the law of 1850. The two major sections noted above were named "type long" or, more fully "enseignement moyen du degré superieur ou du premier degré", and would only be given in the Athenea. A further educational type, the "type court" or "enseignement moyen du degré inférieur ou du second degré", would be given in the "écoles moyennes" or secondary schools which developed from the superior primary schools instituted by the Dutch government as well from the commercial schools which had been created in a certain number of towns[125].

 

In short, the law of 1850 saw secondary education as being divided into two social classes, rather along the lines of Grammar Schools and Secondary Modern schools in post-war England. Whilst this might be seen as being socially divisive, it did in fact mean the introduction of secondary education for a whole social class who would otherwise have been denied it[126].

 

"I believe that it is a great good to give an adequate education to a large number of young people who belong to almost yet modest families who, today colour are not able to receive an appropriate education for their station and their needs, which has sometimes meant that they have had to go elsewhere in search of education with the result that sometimes they have become useless or dangerous citizens. The secondary schools are aimed at making of these children honest bourgeois, honest partisans, and competent cultivators, satisfied with their situation."

 

In spite of all the changes of regime the model of the humanities which had been inherited from the Jesuit colleges of the 16th and seventeenth centuries continued, not only through the Catholic colleges which have continued through to the 21st century, but also through, and therefore in spite of, the various state initiatives which have been listed above; the Austrian Royal Colleges, the Napoleonic Lycées and the Dutch Athenea.

 

The contribution of the newly independent Belgium to this process, through the law of 1850 and its later developments, was a two pronged one. 

 

On the one hand there was a search for continuity in that the classical humanities, with their insistence on Greek and Latin, remained at the highest centre of the State Athenea, albeit modernised by some of the Austrian and Dutch reforms: teaching the native language, a second language, History and Geography.

 

On the other hand the law of 1850 introduced two radical novelties. The first of these novelties, as has been noted above, consisted in a doubling of the scope of the humanities by the creation of a second string whose more utilitarian orientation clearly marked it as separate from the classical humanities. This was a radical move indeed, since a definition of the single stranded classical humanities lay in their disinterested character. Radical also was the fact that in this second string, which after 1887 became called "modern humanities", Latin and Greek were characterised as "dead" languages and replaced by "living" languages.

 

The second novelty was introduction of the "short" programme of secondary education. In fact, a "lesser" programme of secondary education had de facto existed for some time in those towns which had neither the opportunity nor the finance to support an institution offering the "long" programme. It was only be in 1850 that institutions offering only the "short" programme were given official status within the Belgian educational system.

 

Primary Education

 

Although Van Crombrugghe and the Josephites did not remained involved in primary education for long, in order to understand what was happening in legislation for secondary education in Belgium it is necessary to examine the progress of legislation for primary education, and especially what is known as the first "school war".

 

The revolution of 1830 had brought about an alliance between the Catholics and the Liberals which was to present a strong front against the Dutch regime of William the First. Once the new Belgian State had been established the cracks in this alliance began to show, and nowhere more clearly down in the field of education. The Liberals favoured an educational policy subject to central State control; the Catholics wanted to resist the burden of State control which had weighed so heavily on them under previous regimes. It was not, however, until 1842 that the government succeeded in promulgating a law covering primary education. There was a certain amount of resistance to this new law on the part of the Vatican, but in general the law was welcomed by the Catholic Church.

 

At this point education in State primary schools was tied to Catholic doctrine so that the Church was able to control the moral and religious climate of the schools; there was no objection to this from the Liberals. In the period between the establishment of Belgium and the law of 1842 however, the state of primary education remained, for many reasons, in disarray.  In particular it was no longer necessary for teachers in primary schools to have any form of diploma and there was no control nor inspection.

 

The law of 23rd September1842 was the last occasion on which there would be a compromise between the Catholics and the Liberals. The Liberals were satisfied because the law recognised that the civil power had the rights to organise education. The Catholics were satisfied because the Catholic religion remained at the basis of education. The primary schools were obliged to organise religion lessons, control of which was exercised by the Catholic Church.

 

Each commune was obliged to establish, either alone or in conjunction with neighbouring communes, at least one primary school. If there were already sufficient free schools in the area these could be adopted by the commune. They would however become subject to the law. Each commune was to allocate a percentage of local taxes to fund primary education, including bursaries for needy children and, if local funds were insufficient, the provincial or central governments could be approached for subsidies.

 

A double system of inspection was established: a civil inspection and a Diocesan inspection. The Catholic Church, as well as the Protestant Synod and the Jewish Consistory, had the right to inspect the teaching of religion and morals in those State schools where the majority of the pupils were of that religion[127].

 

This happy relationship between the Catholics and the Liberals was not destined to last. The Catholics had hoped that the conditions of the law would transform the State schools into centres of Catholic education. The Liberals saw education in much broader terms and sought a much firmer control of education that the situation envisaged by the law allowed. They sought to limit the power of the Church, to reinforce the significance of the civil inspection, and to reduce the control exercised by local communes.

 

It seemed impossible to resolve the situation by legislation one way or another since neither party had an overwhelming majority in the government. It was not until the arrival of the solidly Liberal government of June 1878, beyond the scope of this thesis, that decisive moves could be made: the full application of the 1842 law and the establishment of a Ministry of Education. It also saw a weakening in the notion of the freedom of education for which Van Crombrugghe had fought so hard at the National Congress.  One particular sentence in the Royal Decree of 1878 gives a clear idea of the intentions of the new government:

 

"Education given at State expense must be under the exclusive direction and supervision of the State.”[128]

 

 

It would be wrong to consider Van Crombrugghe and the Josephites without  an attempt to posit Van Crombrugghe’s thought in the context of the Jesuits who had for so long and so strongly influenced education in Europe. The Fathers of the Faith were heavily Jesuit inspired and, indeed, most of them became Jesuits after the suppression of that congregation was repealed. Thus the education which Van Crombrugghe received at Amiens was firmly in the Jesuit “line”. The Collège d’Alost, as a Jesuit College, had been run up until the suppression of the Jesuits according to the principles of the Ratio Studiorum (q.v.). Those who ran the College between the Jesuits and Van Crombrugghe maintained more or less the same principles and Van Crombrugghe himself was the product of a Ratio Studiorum inspired educational background. It is thus perhaps not surprising that the authors of an  exhibition catalogue for the College in 1981 note that:

 

“The Jesuits remain grateful to him (Van Crombrugghe) because he forms a golden link between the old and the new Jesuit College”.[129]

 

- and again:

 

“Van Crombrugghe was a living link between the Ratio Studiorum of 1586 and the education which the Jesuits since 1831 until now, for 150 years, have maintained and applied to differing circumstances.”[130]

 

Before looking at Ignatuis and the Jesuits some consideration has to be given to their forerunners. This line can tentatively be traced back to the Brethren of the Common Life, making them possibly the earliest “ancestors” of Van Crombrugghe and the Josephites.

 

 

The Brethren of the Common Life were founded in Deventer (Holland) by Gert de Groote (born at Deventer in Gelderland in 1340, died 1384) and, towards the close of the Middle Ages, they were one of the strongest educational bodies in Germany, the Netherlands and France. De Groote studied at Cologne, at the Sorbonne, and at Prague before taking orders. On recovering from an illness in 1373 he resigned his office, bestowed his goods on the Carthusians of Arnhem, and lived in solitude for seven years before embarking on a career of preaching. In his preaching he railed against the relaxation of ecclesiastical discipline and the poor behaviour of the clergy. A small band of devotees attached themselves to de Groote and became his fellow-workers, thus becoming the first Brethren. De Groote was, naturally, opposed by the clergy whose poor lives he decried, but such was his earnestness that a number of the better of the clergy enrolled themselves in his brotherhood which in due course was approved by the Holy See. Originally founded as a quasi-monastic group with no external apostolate, shortly after the death of de Groote in 1384 their scope was extended to include the education of youth.[131]  There is some confusion as to when this change actually happened since the Catholic Encyclopaedia (1910) tells the story somewhat differently. According to the Encyclopaedia[132], when de Groote began his work, learning in the Netherlands was extremely rare and the University of Leuven had not yet been founded. Save for a the occasional priest  who had studied at Paris or Cologne, there were no scholars in the land and even amongst the higher clergy there were many who were ignorant of Latin. De Groote determined to change all this, and his disciples accomplished much. Before the end of the fifteenth century, the Brethren had schools all over Germany and the Netherlands. More than half of the Brethren’s schools were swept away in the religious troubles of the sixteenth century - including the school at Deventer which in 1500 had some 2,000 students. Others remained in existence until the French Revolution, while the rise of universities, the creation of diocesan seminaries and the competition of new teaching orders gradually extinguished the schools. One of their early pupils at the school of Deventer was Thomas Hammerken, from Kempen in the Rhineland. He was to become better known as Thomas à Kempis. As the Brethren’s’ schools spread, certain qualities became common. As Schwickerath notes:

 

“In these schools, Christian education was placed high above mere learning and the training of the young in practical religion and active piety was considered the most important duty. ..... the pupils learned to look upon religion as the basis of all human existence and culture, while at the same time they had a good supply of secular knowledge imparted to them and they gained a genuine love for learning and study.”[133]

 

These are certainly characteristics which form a common thread linking the Brethren of the Common Life, the Jesuits and the Josephites and which, 500 years later, would find a place at the centre of Van Crombrugghe's thought.

 

As their influence spread further, the Brethren were invited by John Standonch, doctor of the Sorbonne, to establish themselves in the Collège de Montaigne in the University of Paris.[134] Ignatius Loyola studied in this College and it is supposed by Schwickerath that the Brethren furnished Ignatius with some ideas for his rules. Schwickerath notes that “this is, for instance, the opinion of Boulay, the historian of the University of Paris[135] and further that:

 

“..... this much is certain, that Ignatius had imbibed the spirit of the Brethren from the study of the works of Thomas à Kempis.”[136]

 

Later, as the educational work of the Jesuits spread over Europe, the need was felt for a uniform system for the whole Society. Indeed, Ignatius had promised a “plan” in the original Constitutions. In the fourth part of the Constitutions general directions had been laid down concerning studies but there was as yet no definite, detailed, and universal system of education, although there were plans of study drawn up by individual Jesuits as private works.[137] However, such a overall plan, which we now know as the Ratio Studiorum, was not completed until 1599. It might be asked why Loyola saw a need for method at all. Hughes suggests that it is because coming late in his own life to studies, he “embraced many branches at the same time, and suffered all the consequences of disorder.”[138] In order to prevent this happening to others he insisted that all the education offered by the Jesuits everything should be dictated by method and system.[139]

 

At the time that Loyola was a student at the University of Paris, the University had fallen into disrepute. According to a contemporary record:

 

“It was fallen from its ancient splendour. The bounds of discipline had been gradually relaxed; studies were abandoned; and with masters, as with scholars, all love of letter, and respect for the rule, had given place to sombre passions, to political hate, to religious fanaticism and dissolute habits.”[140]

 

It was this very moral decline which, according to Hughes, led Loyola to enter the field of education at all.

 

“For we may say with confidence that, if the Universities of the sixteenth century were still doing the work which originally they had been chartered to do, the founder of the Society of Jesus would not only have omitted to draw out his system as an improvement for them, and as an improvement on them, but he would have done, what he always did with anything good in existence; he would have used what he found, and have turned his attention to other things more urgent.”[141]

 

The educational question, therefore, for Loyola was one of moral regeneration rather than of radical innovation - just as it was for Van Crombrugghe.

 

In 1584 Father Claudius Aquaviva, the fifth General of the Society, called together six Jesuit teachers, each from a different nationality and Jesuit province, in order to formalise a universal system which might be put into practice wherever the Society might be at work. For a year they studied pedagogical works, examined regulations of colleges and universities, and weighed the observations and suggestions made by prominent Jesuit educators. Their report was submitted to Aquaviva in 1585 and, in 1586, was distributed to the various provinces: the report was to be studied and returned with comments to Rome. It was not until 1599, after various studies and revisions, that the final version, the Ratio atque Institutio Studiorum Societatis Jesu, was published.[142] Because every possible effort had been made to produce a practical system of education, theory and practice alike had been consulted, suggestions solicited from every part of the Catholic world and all advisable modifications adopted. The Ratio Studiorum must he looked upon as the work not of individuals, but of the whole Society.[143] However, it should be clearly understood that the Ratio as published in 1599 was not intended to be without possibility of change. Indeed, after the restoration of the Jesuits in the 19th. century it was subject to reform and a new edition under the Generalate of Fr. Roothan. It is also, at the same time as being universal, capable of adaptation to times and places:

 

“The Ratio Studiorum  is a plan of studies which admits of every legitimate progress and perfection, and what Ignatius said of the Society in general may be applied to its system of studies in particular, namely that it ought to be suit itself to the times and comply with them, and not make the times suit themselves to it.”[144]

 

Right from the beginning of the Ratio, in the initial report of the six Jesuits who drew it up, we see the statement of a priority that was to form the backbone of Jesuit education and which would permeate through into Van Crombrugghe:

 

“The six Fathers, who drew it up, state, in their introduction, that there are two mainstays and supports of the Society of Jesus, “an ardent pursuit of piety and an eminent degree of learning," ardens pietatis studium et proestans rerum scientia. If piety is not illumined with the light of learning, it can be, no doubt, of great use to the person who possesses it, but of scarcely any use in the service of the Church and of one's neighbour, in the administration of the Word and of the Sacraments, in the education of youth, in controversies with those who are hostile to the faith, in giving counsel, answering doubts, and in all other offices and functions, which are proper to men of the Order.”[145]

 

And again reminiscent of Van Crombrugghe, the first Rule of the Ratio states that it is one of the most important obligations of the Society .[146]

 

Private Talks

 

“ ..... to teach all branches of learning in such a manner that men should be led to the knowledge and love of their Creator and Redeemer.”[147]

 

The question of the actual origin and sources of the Ratio are a topic of debate. There has been some speculation that it was modelled chiefly on the theories of the Spanish Humanist, Luis Vives[148] or on the plan of John Sturm.[149] [150] As Schwickerath notes, no such dependence has been proved, and  there are other sources which can be pinpointed. The same refutation is made by Curtis & Boultwood (1965) who explain the apparent similarities by the fact that Sturm had studied in the school of the Brethren of the Common Life at Liège, and Vives, whom Loyola met in Brugge, had spent many years in the Netherlands. They conclude that “it is probable that all three drew ideas from a common source, the schools of the Brethren, and the University of Paris.”[151] The method of teaching the higher branches (theology, philosophy, and the sciences) was an adaptation of the system prevailing in the great Catholic universities especially in Paris, where St. Ignatius and his first companions had studied.[152] The literary course is modelled after the traditions of the humanistic schools of the Renaissance period - it is probable that the flourishing schools of the Netherlands (Leuven, Liège, and others) furnished the models for various features of the Ratio.[153] Certain features common to the Ratio and the plan of Sturm are accounted for naturally by the fact that Sturm had studied at Liège, Leuven, and Paris, and thus drew on the same source from which the framers of the Ratio had derived inspirations. Several Jesuits prominent in the drawing up of the Ratio were natives of the Netherlands, or had studied in the most celebrated schools of that country. But, as is evident from the description of the origin of the Ratio, its authors were not mere imitators; the most important source from which they drew was the collective experience of Jesuit teachers in various Colleges and countries.[154]

 

The Ratio is considered by some to be the Jesuits’ greatest contribution to education, but its importance lies in organisation and method rather than that of theory,[155] and in a system which has stood the test of time.

 

“So comprehensive, systematic and exhaustive are the regulations that the modern reader is inclined to forget that the Ratio Studiorum is one of the first attempts on record at educational organisation, management and method, at a time when it was unusual even to grade pupils in classes: and one is tempted to compare it, not always to the disadvantage of the Ration, with the regulations of a modern school system which have only after some generations been evolved and perfected”.[156]

 

The Ratio Studiorum is not the only essential Jesuit pedagogical document. The General Assembly of the Society in 1696-7 passed a resolution that:

 

“ ..... besides the rules whereby the masters of literature are directed in the manner of teaching, they should be provided with an Instruction and proper Method of Learning, and so be guided in their private studies even while they are teaching.”[157]

 

The person entrusted with this work was Joseph de Jouvancy[158], who, five years previously had published a work (Christianis Litterarum Magistris de Ratione Discendi et Docendi - Paris 1691) which was deemed capable of adaptation into the Method which the Society needed. In 1703, based on the above work, an authorised handbook for Jesuit teachers was published by Jouvancy, entitled Magistris Scholarum Inferiorum Societatis Jesu de Ratione Discendi et Docendi,[159] published at Florence in 1703. The principal features of this work were:

 

Latin is and remains the central point of instruction, even though Greek and the historical branches are not neglected

 

The art of the teacher may be separated into two main divisions

 

By the example of his own piety and virtue the teacher is to lead the pupil to the knowledge and service of the Creator,

 

He is to bring the pupil to apply himself to his actual studies by fear of humiliation and an honourable spirit of competition.[160]

 

 Jouvancy’s work was praised by, among others, Rollin and Voltaire.

 

One of the methods employed in stimulating competition were the so-called concertationes or contests. This spirit of competition was used by the enemies of the Jesuits as a point of discredit: Compayré, for example, states that this “fostering of ambition” was “the characteristic of the corrupt Jesuitical morality.”[161] Even Quintilian admits that the ambition engendered by competition may be a vice:

 

“He will think it disgraceful to be surpassed by pupils of his age, and a fine thing to have beaten his seniors. All these things stimulate the mind, and though ambition may in itself be a vice none the less it is frequently the source of virtues.” [162]

 

On the contrary, what was demanded by the Ratio was honesta aemulatio, good and noble emulation. According to Ribadeneira:

 

"Many means are devised, and exercises employed, to stimulate the minds of the young - assiduous disputation, various trials of genius, prizes offered for excellence in talent and industry. These prerogatives and testimonies of virtue vehemently arouse the minds of students, awake them even when sleeping, and, when they are aroused and are running on with a good will, impel them and spur them on faster. For, as penalty and disgrace bridle the will and check it from pursuing evil, so honour and praise quicken the sense wonderfully, to attain the dignity and glory of virtue."[163]

 

He quotes Cicero and Quintilian to the same effect. Hughes also notes that this “was not to develop a false self-love in young hearts”. Indeed the oldest code of school rules in the Jesuits, probably written by Peter Canisius, states:

 

"Let them root out from themselves, in every possible way, self-love and the craving for vain glory"[164]

 

Schwickerath cites various methods of competition

 

individual, whereby each pupil has his own aemulus or rival

dividing the class into “sides”;

competitions between classes.[165]

 

For Jouvancy (as later for Van Crombrugghe) is was important that the teacher should have authority: three things are important for a teacher in achieving authority; esteem, love, and fear.[166]

 

Esteem: The teacher must possess the esteem of his pupils, i.e. they must respect him for his learning and his character. Many of the traits noted by Schwickerath as being non-conducive to esteem are echoed in Van Crombrugghe: they are:

 

“ ..... passionate or irritable behaviour, abusive language, haughtiness, levity, whims, fickleness, inconsiderate or idle talk .....”[167]

 

Affection: The teacher must strive to gain the affection of his pupils.[168] He will do this by being seen to be eager for his pupils’ advancement. He must be friendly and kind towards all, avoiding partiality, favouritism and excessive familiarity towards individuals. In punishing he must be considerate, just, moderate, and show that he acts only from a sense of duty and genuine love, not from passion or antipathy. Jouvancy insists that the teacher should “display the earnestness of a father and the devotion of a mother”. We see this notion duplicated by Van Crombrugghe in the closing paragraph of the Guide Pédagogique:

 

“In a word, be like fathers to them, and that's not enough; be like mothers. You must love the children and make them feel that you love them; not only by avoiding, in your dealings with them, all hardness, unjust coldness and discouraging severity, but by caring tenderly for them and having a blessed and cordial affection for them; letting them see that you have devoted your life to them, that you are happy to be with them and will always be so. You must also identify with them, not only in work and study, but in everything else and in every detail of their school life.”

 

Fear: This third element is described by Jouvancy[169] as timor reverentialis as opposed to timor servilis, i.e. the fear borne of reverence rather than the fear of a slave. The qualities necessary on the part of the teacher to instil this “good” fear are gravity, firmness and prudent consistency: on the part of the school, only few and wise regulations should be made - a point also made by Van Crombrugghe - and these must be consistently enforced.

 

In the Règlement des Maîtresses which Van Crombrugghe wrote for the Daughters of Mary and Joseph we find a very precise description of the authoritative teacher:

 

“To do good for her pupils the mistress must necessarily have authority over them. To obtain this authority she must have their esteem (which she will get) if she truly loves them, if she frequently gives them signs of her affection and if she inspires in them a positive ideal of piety, knowledge and character. She should have a gentle and modest manner, and open and smiling face, polished and unforced manners, but with no trace of pedantry; a firmness of character which remains always in control, a great exactitude in doing everything at the indicated time ..... This is what will infallibly assure you general esteem and a directly resulting authority over your pupils.”[170]

 

 All the above should not suggest that punishments are unnecessary and, indeed, a number of references are made to it.[171] However, offences must be treated with compassion and without harshness. The teacher must never be hasty in punishing and often it will be best to wait and assign the punishment later. The Ratio Studiorum  says also that the teacher should not be too eager to discover occasions for punishing his pupils[172] and that any good reasons for pardoning, or lessening the punishment, are to welcomed.

 

“Let not the Prefects consider their authority to consist in this, that the students are on hand in obedience to their nod, their every word, or their very look; but in this, that the boys love them, approach with confidence, and make their difficulties known.”[173]

 

Schwickerath notes that it was customary, and laid down by the Ratio Studiorum, that the teacher should not always remain teaching at the same level except in the last two years. By this method a teacher would remain with a particular class for a number of years and thereby:

 

“ ..... master and pupil understand each other, and if the teacher is a good religious and a fairly efficient teacher, he will have won the esteem, the affection and the confidence of the pupils, all of which gives him inestimable advantages for the real and thorough education of his charges.”[174]

 

Is this the same thing as Van Crombrugghe means when he speaks of politesse in the context of authority and discipline? Probably not entirely, but it is intimately connected with discipline both in the Jesuit and the Constantian contexts. The most important factor is the teacher’s example: he must appear as a “perfect gentleman”.[175] Schwickerath speaks of a

 

“ ..... politeness which is the choice fruit and exterior manifestation of solid interior virtue, of sincerity of heart, humility, obedience and charity”.[176]

 

In the Jesuit context, then, what is the difference between a system of education built on Christianity and one built on another philosophy? For Schwickerath:

 

 Contests & Competition

 

“The most essential difference will be that in a Christian system the intellectual training is considered secondary and subordinate to the moral and religious training, whereas all other systems aim at a purely secular education, and in this again lay special stress on the intellectual to the neglect of moral training.”[177]

 

In establishing the aims of Christian education the life and teaching of Jesus Christ cannot be ignored.  Christ is quoted as saying “Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and His justice.”[178] This, then, must form the foundation of all educational principles because, the argument goes on, “what does it profit a man if he gain the whole world and suffer the loss of his own soul?”[179] Continuing Schwickerath’s argument, if “the fear of God is the beginning of all wisdom”[180] [181]then the moral and religious training of the young must come first in the eyes of the Christian teacher. The following distinctions are made:

 

Greek education affected only the intellect (nous );

Christian education affects the soul (pneuma), as contrasted with the body (sarx)

dividing the class into “sides”;

competi" 

Pagan education aimed at mere formation (Ausbildung) - the evolution and development of the natural man;

Christian education aims at transformation (Umbildung) - at change, at elevation.[182]

 

If the Christian has to follow Christ’s command of  “deny yourself, take up your cross and follow me” he has to go against the natural inclinations of man and therefore this Umbildung noted by Willmann is necessary. Referring to Kempis’ Imitation of Christ with which we know Ignatius was familiar[183] one can see that the Christian teacher has in mind always that “when Christ, our Master, comes for the final examination, he will not ask how well we spoke and disputed, but how well we lived.[184]

 

Private talks with pupils are recommended by the Ratio. According to Jouvancy, the teacher should speak in private more often to those who seem to be exposed to worse and more dangerous faults. The Jesuit Sacchini remarks that the teacher should study the character and disposition of each pupil, to “discover the bad outcroppings on the tender plant and to nip them in the bud”.[185] This element of keeping in touch with the individual pupil has been considered to be one of the sources of the Jesuits’ success in education, a fact recognised even by non-Catholic commentators. Schwickerath cites Sir Josua Fitch, writing about the great Arnold, of Rugby:

 

“Much of the influence he gained over his scholars, influence which enabled him to dispense in an increasing degree with corporal punishment, was attributed to his knowledge of the individual characteristics of his boys. .....this is a kind of knowledge which has long been known to be characteristic of the disciplinary system of the Jesuits, but has not been common among the head masters of English public schools.”[186]

 

Schwickerath notes that among other charges laid against the Jesuits was that of estranging children from their families by making them boarders. He quotes Compayré: “The ideal of the perfect (Jesuit) scholar is to forget his parents”.[187] In fact the Jesuits opened boarding schools unwillingly and only where absolutely necessary, preferring day schools since they esteemed the influence which a good home had on the training of the child. It is noted, for example, that of the 83 Colleges which the Society ran in Germany in 1710, only 12 admitted boarders.[188] This is in contrast to Van Crombrugghe who regarded boarding as a positive factor in education - probably, once again, as a result of his experience at Amiens.

 

Another stark contrast between the Jesuits and Van Crombrugghe was that in Van Crombrugghe's career there was a propensity for accepting foundations with a very small number of men at his disposal. The Jesuits, on the other had, were careful not to do so and it was Laynez[189] in 1564 who laid down that the Jesuits would not accept the running of a College unless it had a foundation for twenty Jesuits.[190]

 

When the Jesuits were suppressed the running of many of their colleges was entrusted either to lay organisations or to other religious congregations. This was, however, not without its problems, both financial and educational. It is noted that, for example, the Jesuit College of Saint-Yves in Vannes, Brittany, directing some 1,200 pupils with a faculty of approximately 22 Jesuits, existed on an income of 6,000 livres a year. When the Jesuits were suppressed and had to be replaced by laymen, it was discovered that the salaries alone of just 10 teachers would mount to 11,000 livres a year.[191]

 

 One order which benefited more than many from the suppression of the Jesuits was the Oratory. If the Jesuits were international in scope, the Oratory were a particularly French order. They should not be confused with the Oratory of St Philip Neri, or the “Italian” Oratory, which had been founded some years previously. The “French” Oratory was founded by Pierre de Bérulle (1575-1629) in 1611. By 1716 they ran thirty-six colleges in France, and a further seven Jesuit colleges were handed over to them after the expulsion of the Jesuits. They had their own Ratio Studiorum published in 1634 and 1645.[192] The Oratory were originally exempted from the suppression of the religious Orders after the French Revolution, but were finally suppressed in 1792.[193] It is noted that after the suppression of the Jesuits:

 

“The municipal officers of the cities, the bureaux themselves hastened to petition the King, that their colleges might be conceded to religious communities. Thus it was that the greater part of the old Jesuit colleges fell into the hands of the Benedictines and Bernardines, of the Carmelites and Minims, of Jacobins and Cordeliers, of Capuchins and Recollects, of Doctrinaires and Barnabites, and above all, of the Oratorians. But all these Religious, except the Oratorians, fell far short of the Jesuits. The greater part had not even any idea of teaching, etc."[194]

 

 In our own times the Jesuits, like the Josephites, have been questioning their educational identity in changing circumstances. A number of their findings have been quoted in the Introduction to this thesis, but it would be as well to dwell on a number of features which contemporary Jesuits continue to regard as fundamental, and which show a continuing parallel to those elements which enthused Van Crombrugghe.

 

Firstly,

 

“Any attempt to speak of Jesuit education today must take account of the profound changes which have influenced and affected this education - since the time of Ignatius but especially during the present century.” [195]

 

This, of course, is true also of the Josephites just as is:

 

“ ..... many other developments have affected concrete details of school life and have altered fundamental school policies ...... A common spirit lies behind pedagogy, curriculum and school life, even though these may differ greatly from those of previous centuries, and the more concrete details of school life may differ greatly from country to country.” [196]

 

This “common spirit” is not left undefined.

 

“The objective of Jesuit education is to assist in the fullest possible development of all the God-given talents of each individual person as a member of the human community.” [197]

 

More recently the former Superior General of the Society of Jesus, Father Peter-Hans Kolvenbach, expressed the same purpose in very similar words:

 

“Our ideal is the well-rounded person who is intellectually competent, open to growth, religious, loving and committed to doing justice in generous service to the people of God.” [198]

 

Such an objective, whilst being claimed as Jesuit, is distinctive rather than unique; it could as well be applied as essential to any Roman Catholic or even broadly Christian school and would certainly be at the foundation of the philosophy of a school in the Constantian tradition.

 

In the same way, the Jesuits underline the importance of the personal and caring relationship between teacher and individual pupil which Josephites would also recognise as being characteristic.

 

“Growth in the responsible use of freedom is facilitated by the personal relationship between student and teacher ..... cura personalis (concern for the individual person) remains a basic characteristic of Jesuit education.” [199]

 

And from a different source,  Fr Kolvenbach again:

 

'This care for each student individually, as far as this is possible, remains and must remain the characteristic of our vocation.... Above all, we need to maintain, in one way or in another, this personal contact with each of the students in our schools and colleges.”[200]

 

Finally, and it could equally well be Van Crombrugghe himself saying this:

 

“..... education takes place in a moral context: knowledge is joined to virtue” [201]

 

 Van Crombrugghe did not, at any stage of his life, publish a fully elaborated “method” or thorough codification of his educational ideals on the scale of that which is found for the Jesuits in the Ratio Studiorum, although we do have two smaller documents, the Règlement du Collège d’Alost and the Règlement des Professeurs. It would be useless to attempt to compare these documents with the Ratio: although there are points of similarity the scope is on an entirely different scale and, as has been noted, the Ratio is not the work of Ignatius Loyola but rather the work of early Jesuits.  We do have two other documents which help to illuminate the Founder’s educational stance, but these are works of compilation undertaken by early Josephites and based on the Founder’s letters, exhortations and Chapter decisions: the Guide Pédagogique[202] and the Directoire des Surveillants.[203] Although throughout his life he was in contact by letter with members of the Congregations he formed, what he says in many of those cases are simply reactions to, or solutions for, a particular set of circumstances or problems.

 

As far as methods per se are concerned Van Crombrugghe had this to say:

 

“We have the greatest interest concerning methods, in not remaining behind; everything is moving, we must also move forward.”[204]

 

and again:

 

“As far as methods in general are concerned, not being enslaved to any one method, we will not reject any type of improvement merely because it is a novelty. Nevertheless we will distrust the mania for changes, for experiments, especially those wonderful schemes for which even the advertisements are not always free from charlatanism ..... Finally, in order always to be useful our Institute, making itself all things to all men, will modify its means of action according to the new needs of society. Such will in all ages be our great rule concerning methods.”[205]

 

To find any form of elaboration of Van Crombrugghe’s philosophy of education the most powerful sources date from early on in his educational career. In particular one would have to look at those sources which date from his time as Headmaster of the Collège d’Alost (1814-1825): the “Règlement du Collège d’Alost” and the text of two speeches given to parents at prize distributions in Easter and Summer 1815.

 

In many ways the Règlement du Collège d'Alost is an uninteresting document for the purposes of this current research, as it consists in the main simply of practical instructions and dispositions for the running of the school. Many of the practical considerations, timetable etc., were probably taken from an already existing Diocesan Rule. However, occasional explanations and reasonings give us an insight into what Van Crombrugghe thought, or at least into those thoughts of which Van Crombrugghe approved enough to have them enshrined in “his” rule.

 

The rule opens with what we would now call the “mission statement” of the school:

 

“The goal which is established for this house is to cultivate at one and the same time the minds and hearts of young people. One cannot succeed in this important purpose without order and method”[206]

 

Garcia notes[207]that this section was taken directly from the diocesan rule, but four key notions in Van Crombrugghe’s thought are here present: mind, heart, order and method.

 

Another cental, Jesuit inspired element of Van Crombrugghe’s thought enters at Section 3, number 5: that of competition. In order to encourage the pupils in their efforts, and publicly to reward those who had done well, there were to be:

 

“On Wednesday mornings - proclamation of class positions. On the nearest Thursday to the 1st of each month this takes place in public and medals for diligence are distributed”[208]

 

Van Crombrugghe would have found the justification for these public recognitions of the results of competition in Quintilian:

 

“There is one useful method known to me, which was employed by my own teachers. They arranged us in classes, determining the order of speaking according to the ability of the pupils. Thus as each boy appeared to excel in proficiency he stood higher in the order of declamation. Tests of progress were held from time to time, and to earn promotion was a great prize for us, whilst to be head of the class was by far the most coveted honour. The class order was not decided once for all. Each month gave the vanquished a fresh opportunity to do battle. Thus those who held high places through previous success did not relax their efforts, and shame stirred the less successful to strive to wipe out their disgrace. So far as I can form a conjecture I would maintain that this rivalry did far more to kindle our zeal for oratorical studies than the exhortations of teachers, the care of paedagogi (attendants), and the wishes of our parents.”[209]

 

Religion, which underpins everything that Van Crombrugghe later says about education, appears also:

 

“The fear of the Lord is the foundation of wisdom. There is no good education which is not founded on religion and piety towards God. Since religion is the foundation of the building on which we are working, it must be and always will be the principal object of our efforts and of the care we dedicate to our pupils”.[210]

 

Positions of authority, equivalent to today’s “prefects”, were held by pupils known as “censeurs”. They were to report minor misdemeanours to the Housemaster. However, with that trait of mercy which appears more strongly later in Van Crombrugghe’s work, it is noted that:

 

“The prefects can recommend to the Housemaster that later good behaviour be held to negate an earlier fault”.[211]

 

Little is made of this in any of Van Crombrugghe's writings nor by other commentators; we cannot, therefore, conclude that Van Crombrugghe made use of a “monitorial” system as such - simply that there were prefects whose qualities were to be similar to those of the teachers.

 

Decency is encouraged amongst the pupils:

 

“Decency is such a highly valued virtue that the children must continually watch over themselves in order to conserve it always; it is the finest decoration of youth”.[212]

 

and offences against it, along with civility and, where required - i.e. almost everywhere - silence, are to be punished.[213]

 

As well as in the more formal areas of school life, e.g. classroom, refectory and dormitory, recreation time is also a moment for careful supervision and for the instilling of Christian virtues:

 

“Dangerous games, or games of chance, cards and physical games (?) are forbidden. Contraventions of this article will be strictly reprimanded, as will exaggerated familiarity, provocation, silly names and most especially quarrels.”[214]

 

An open and caring attitude to others is encouraged:

 

“Everyone should take great pains to be honest towards each other, considerate towards newcomers, and respectful towards strangers in the house.”[215]

 

A further article would seem, on one level, to be aimed against “particular friendships” but can at another level be seen to be aimed at promoting civility and good manners in encouraging the pupils to distribute their company equally and without favour:

 

“During recreation it is forbidden to spend one’s time exclusively with the same friends. Rather one spends time equally with others”.[216]

 

A whole section of the Règlement (Article 9) is given over to politesse which, as we have previously seen is an essential tenet of Van Crombrugghe’s philosophy. This politesse is extended to the pupils’ teachers;

 

“The pupils must have for their teachers all the respect which the benefits they receive from them deserve. They will, therefore, never speak of them without adding to their name some respectful expression.”[217]

 

- to their companions;

 

“They will become accustomed to being obliging towards their companions, to pleasing them, and to never saying anything shocking against anyone.”[218]

 

- and to strangers;

 

“They should also be careful to present themselves before strangers with the respect and seemly manners which the situation demands.”[219]

 

Chapter Three of the Règlement is given over to competition (l’émulation) which Van Crombrugghe (in common with the Jesuit Ratio Docendi) regards as one the most potent means of encouraging pupils in their work. In the preamble to the Chapter he states:

 

“It is more effective to be led towards what is good through the hope of reward than to be led away from evil by the fear of punishment.”[220]

 

A scheme of rewards is established based on “notes de diligence”, the accumulation of which leads to further distinction. This system was not always successful. According to the Règlement, the pupil who gets the most “notes” in a month is rewarded by a) wearing a cross on a ribbon and b) eating at table with the Headmaster. This particular reward was later abolished; an addendum to the Règlement against this article states that it is “to be changed as it causes mirth!”[221]

 

At the first possible moment after his appointment, the Prize Distribution of Easter 1815, Van Crombrugghe took advantage of the presence of the parents and the “mighty” of Alost to expound and expand the views on education which had already been outlined in the Règlement. Later in the year, at the end of year Prize Distribution, he gave a further speech which so impressed Bishop de Broglie that he had it edited and printed for distribution under the title of “Sur l’Education”. Of the two, the first[222] is the more important source of Van Crombrugghe’s thought: nowhere else does he give such a detailed and concentrated exposé of his views. It is therefore worth examining it in some detail.

 

“Seeing the dazzling company which honours us by coming to encourage the efforts of our pupils by applauding their success, I feel inspired to give a simple exposé of the goals to which we tend, and the method which we have adopted in order to attain those goals in this school. The point of perfection at which we have so happily arrived so rapidly proves the value of our methods and justifies the unusual degree of trust in which we are held by an enlightened populace. I beg you, ladies and gentlemen, not to expect from me an elegant and flowery discourse: I have no ambition to be known as an orator. I have nothing to offer but honesty and candour. I will attempt to gain your attention only by the importance of what I want to say.”

 

One wonders, so soon (six months) after Van Crombrugghe’s appointment, just how large the company was seeing that he had taken over a school with only five pupils. We do know, however, that two years later the number of pupils in the school was two hundred and sixty eight.[223]

 

“The education of young people has at every stage in history been regarded by the greatest philosophers and the wisest legislators as the true source of happiness of families, even States and Empires.”

 

Not only is education important for the child himself, it is also an essential building block for society at all levels. In making this statement, Van Crombrugghe leans heavily, not on his own authority, but on that of writers of past ages. The ideal expressed would have important consequences for Van Crombrugghe’s participation in the National Congress of 1830 and his fight for the freedom of education: without a “proper” (in Van Crombrugghe’s terms) education system the new state of Belgium would be flawed.

 

“It is well understood that in order to attain the perfection of which he is capable man must be cultivated. His most positive attributes will not gain any real value except through the care he takes to bring them to fruition and the good use which he learns to make of them.”

 

For Van Crombrugghe the child was something incomplete, a “soft wax”[224] (as we will see him refer to the child elsewhere) into which the imprint of all that was important was to be made during the process of education.

 

 “It is, thus the role of education to form the good man and to prepare him to take his place in society; as a consequence it is its role to form the heart and the mind of the young, to bring to perfection their reason and to embellish their imagination.”

 

This is an important paragraph as it contains a distillation of Van Crombrugghe's views on education. The child is not solely educated for his own good; rather his education will form the “cement” which will hold society together. Education is a two-pronged concern: both the heart i.e. the conscience and the social-christian being, and the mind i.e. the intellectual capacity are to be brought to fulfilment. We will see that of the two Van Crombrugghe sees that former as having the greater importance.

 

“In a College, four things, it seems to me, must direct us towards this noble goal: A good choice of studies, wise rules, the power of competition and the stronger power of religion.”

 

If, in the previous paragraph, Van Crombrugghe sets out the goals of education as he sees them, it is here that he itemises the four specific means by which these goals are to be achieved. Later in his speech he deals specifically with each of the four.

 

“Man is doubtless capable of tending to perfection and, as a consequence, his institutions must necessarily be subject to modification. But a half-century of misfortune has taught us the real value of the philosophical reforms: thus we have made it a duty to avoid the route which has been followed these past several years, and to re-align ourselves with the beaux siècles of knowledge in order to discover there the lessons of the true masters of the education of youth.”

 

After the unwelcome and, to Van Crombrugghe's mind, disastrous changes forced on Belgian education by the Austrians and, more importantly, the French, it is the time to return to an education based on the solid principles enumerated by the masters of past centuries. Van Crombrugghe lists three here specifically: Fénélon, Rollin and Jouvancy, and later makes it clear that Quintilian is to be numbered among them. They are the “legislators of education” and the “friends of youth” and it is their methods, their rules, which will set education back on the right path.

 

François de Salignac de la Mothe-Fénélon (1651 - 1715) was a member of the noblesse de province.  His early education under a private tutor gave him an early love for the classics which remained one of his characteristics throughout his life.[225] At the age of twelve he went to the University of Cahors, and thence to the University of Paris, subsequently transferring to the seminary of Saint-Sulpice where he found himself under the tutelage of Louis Tronson of whom he was later to write:

 

“I congratulate myself on having had M. Tronson for my instructor in the Word of Life and having been formed under his personal care for the ecclesiastical state.  Never was any man superior to him in discipline, in skill, prudence, piety and insight into character.”[226]

 

Already here we see Fénélon valuing the same traits which Van Crombrugghe was later to value. Fénélon was ordained priest in 1674 or 1675. In 1678 he was appointed Superior of the Nouvelles Catholiques of Paris, a sisterhood established in order to “furnish young Protestant female converts with safe retreats against the persecution of their parents and the wiles of the heretics.”[227] Whilst acting as Superior, he went to live with his uncle, the Marquis Antoine de Fénélon, among whose many friends was the Duc de Beauvilliers, father of nine daughters. At the request of the Duchesse de Beauvilliers, Fénélon wrote his “Traité de l’Education des Filles” (although this was not published until 1689). Partly as a result of this publication, in the same year Fénélon was appointed précepteur to the Duc de Bourgogne, eldest son to the Dauphin. The précepteur was a tutor who was responsible for the intellectual, moral and religious education of the pupil.[228] In 1695 he became Archbishop of Cambrai.

 

At approximately the same time as he was writing the Traité de l’Education de Filles another important educational work, Du choix et de la Méthode des Etudes was being written by l’Abbé Claude Fleury and Barnard infers that they were in touch with each other and familiar with each other’s views.[229] Both regarded moral and intellectual education as inseparable and the pupils should above all learn to exercise reason. Fleury is quoted as saying “as for the mind, they must be trained from an early age to think consecutively and to judge soundly on those everyday matters which may be useful to them”.[230] It should be noted that the Traité is a good deal more than a treatise on the education of girls: roughly two-thirds of it is equally applicable to boys: in the relevant chapters Fénélon uses the word “enfants” and never “filles”.[231] Two letters written to the Abbé Fleury (by then the Duc de Bourgogne’s sous-précepteur) indicate that intellectual instruction is regarded as a means to a moral education; the task being not so much to inform the Duc’s mind but to reform his passionate and uncontrolled disposition.[232]

 

“But you know better than I that you should not press him in this for fear of discouraging, by a purely intellectual exercise, a disposition which is idle and impatient and which is largely dominated by the imagination.”[233]

 

Barnard sums up his overview of Fénélon as an educator in these words:

 

“Education to Fénélon is never just a matter of acquiring knowledge and technical skills. It implies realising and achieving high standards, whether intellectual, moral or spiritual, and thinking seriously about the major problems and responsibilities which the individual, whatever his particular position in society, has to face.”[234]

 

In order to see more specifically some of the parallels between Fénélon and Van Crombrugghe, or more accurately some of those passages which Van Crombrugghe might be considered to have “borrowed” from Fénélon, we need a take a closer look at the Traité, and, more specifically, those sections identified by Barnard (1966) as being directed at education in general.[235] It is not intended here to give a complete hermaneutic comparison of both works, but rather to highlight by some chosen examples the strong link between the two.

 

In Chapter Three of the Traité (The Foundations of Education) Fénélon states that “children are naturally but little inclined towards the good”. Their “brain substance is soft” (Van Crombrugghe's “soft wax”) and therefore everything is easily impressed on it. Nevertheless, one should shrink from overly advancing a child’s intellectual development for “the danger of vanity and pertness is greater than the fruits of these premature educations.” “We must then be content to follow and to aid nature” - here Fénélon foreshadows Froebel and Pestalozzi.[236] In Van Crombrugghe we read that “la nature propose, l’éducation achève”.

 

In Chapter Five (Indirect Instruction. Children should not be forced) we read the following:

 

“The softness of the brain allows everything to be easily impressed on it and renders very vivid the images of all objects which are perceived. So we must hasten to write on their brains while the characters can easily be formed there. But we must be careful in choosing the images which must be inscribed, for we should only store up in a receptacle so small and so precious only the choicest things”.[237]

 

Van Crombrugghe has incorporated this text verbatim into his 1815 speech, and we see it later reflected in the Epilogue to the Règlement des Professeurs:

 

“Don't pour anything but the purest fluids into these precious vessels which have been confided to your care; only give colours worth keeping to this wool, or rather, acceptable habits to these lambs whose shepherd you have been appointed.”

 

 The following section from Fénélon:

 

“Never, unless it is absolutely necessary, assume a severe and commanding air which makes children afraid ..... You will shut up their hearts and lose their confidence, without which no results can be expected in education. Make yourself loved by them. Let them be quite often with you and never afraid to let them see your faults. To achieve that be lenient towards those who are frank with you. Do not appear shocked or annoyed by their evil tendencies; on the contrary be sympathetic with their weakness. Sometimes there may result the disadvantage that they will be less constrained by fear; but, when all is said, confidence and sincerity are more helpful to them than stern authority.”[238]

 

 appears semi-verbatim in Van Crombrugghe as:

 

“This explains above all our continued efforts not to adopt, except in cases of extreme necessity, that imperious and austere manner which makes the children tremble, hardens their hearts and denies that conscience without which their is no fruit to be expected from education. We prefer to try and make ourselves loved by them so that they can be free with us and not be afraid to let us see their failings. To ensure success in this matter we look particularly kindly on those children who hide nothing from us: we never appear surprised by their bad tendencies - on the contrary we sympathise with their weaknesses.”

 

Jouvancy, as we have already seen, was the writer of the Jesuit Ratio Docendi. Since Van Crombrugghe mentions him specifically we can presume that he was familiar with that work.

 

Quintilian, in full Marcus