On an August evening in 1695, François de Neufville, Duke of Villeroi and Marshal
of France, instructed his artillerymen to commence firing. Their target was the city
of Brussels, just to their east. The intent of this action was not to capture the
city, or necessarily even to damage it. The intent was to threaten the mostly
defenseless city of Brussels to whatever degree was necessary to persuade an Allied
army that was besieging the nearby city of Namur to break off their siege and come to
the aid of Brussels. As it turned out, this tactic was completely unsuccessful, with
no Allied troops being diverted, and with the eventual fall of the strategically-located
Namur to its besiegers on September 1. So intentions notwithstanding, the bombardment
of Brussels, which lasted for 48 hours, caused an extreme amount of damage to the city
while accomplishing nothing. Some of the ordnance dropped on Brussels consisted of
incendiary rounds which caused a fire which spread rapidly through the central city’s
mostly wooden structures. The residents of the city deliberately demolished a number of
their own structures to create a fire break to limit the spread of the fire. All told,
about one-third of the structures in the city were destroyed.
When the Duke gave up his attack and moved off to help out at Namur (a move that was
blocked until it was too late), the residents of Brussels were left to pick up the
pieces. Fortunately the loss of life was much lower than might be expected, as the Duke
had made his intentions widely known (so the Allied army would know to come and protect
Brussels), and the residents had mostly evacuated themselves out of harm’s way. But in
the city center, the devastation was pretty complete. In the Grand Place, for instance,
every building was destroyed except for a portion of the town hall (its 310-foot tower,
which somehow survived, had been used by the gunners as a targeting reference). A great
number of personal, cultural and historical treasures had been lost, and a massive
cleanup and rebuilding effort loomed. Fortunately, a number of neighboring cities sent
assistance. Many of the newly homeless were allowed to stay in the park adjacent to the
governor’s palace, and anti-profiteering measures were enacted and enforced by
militias. The local guilds, which controlled the practice of various trades in Brussels,
had their monopolies on these trades suspended. As a result of all this, reconstruction
progressed remarkably quickly.
The governor (of the Spanish Netherlands), Maximilian II Emanuel, envisioned a
reimagining of the city in a form similar to that of some of the other great cities of
Europe. But such grandiose plans required a great deal of time and money, both of which
were in short supply. So the new layout of the city came to be pretty much the same as
the old layout. The only structures Maximilian was able to get built according to his
ideas were a theater and a building that appears on the southeast side of the Grand
Place. This building is known as The House of the Dukes of Brabant. While holding
seven guildhalls, it presents a single, unified, monumental façade, and is probably the
least interesting structure on the square. The other structures are the Town Hall
(renovated in the 1990’s), the Maison du Roi ("King’s House", also known as the
Breadhouse, or Broodhuis, for a bread market that once occupied the spot), and
many individual guildhalls. Before the bombardment, the local guilds operated
guildhalls on and around the Grand Place, and after the bombardment they were invited
to rebuild them. Their plans had to be submitted and approved first, so they would be
harmonious with each other. This plan proved to be highly successful – the Grand
Place is now probably the top tourist attraction in Brussels, and many consider it to
be the most beautiful public square in Europe.
While we’d visited the Grand Place the night before, we still wanted to see it in
daylight. We headed that way after breakfast, passing some shops on the way that we’d
also seen in the dark the previous night.
Belgian Frit 'N Toast
La Boutique Tintin
The Grand Place looked very different in the daylight. Guildhalls that had been
hard to see in the dark corners the night before were now brightly lit, and gilded
features throughout gleamed in the morning sun. There was also a certain amount
of construction noise. A number of workers seemed to be setting up tents or
awnings, probably for some kind of festival or street market. We would have to come
back later during our stay to see what this was all about.
On entering the square, our first view was of the southwest side. This side is
occupied by the Town Hall, and, to its left, five guildhalls. When the guildhalls
were built, they did not have numeric addresses, but were instead referred to by
names. The one called The Swan was later to be used as a meeting place by Marx and
Engels in the 1840’s, when they were working on The Communist Manifesto.
Connie and Southwest Guildhalls
Mountain of Thabor, Rose, Golden Tree, Swan and Star
Town Hall - Tower
Town Hall Façade
Town Hall - Detail
Southwest Façades
The northwest side of the square is a solid block of guildhalls.
Fox, Horn, She-Wolf, Sack, Wheelbarrow, King of Spain
The King of Spain
The Wheelbarrow
The Sack
The Horn
The Fox
Nella and Connie and Northwest Guildhalls
The northeast side of the square was dominated by the Maison du Roi, which was
once used as an administrative building and was never occupied by any king. This
building was completely rebuilt in the 19th Century in the neogothic style, and now
holds a museum devoted to the history of the city. There are also guildhalls on
both sides of the Maison du Roi, but some of them were undergoing restoration
during our visit. The fourth side of the square was occupied by the House of the
Dukes of Brabant.
Maison du Roi, or Broodhuis
Tower, Maison du Roi
Southeast Façades
Nella and Flowers
After gaping at the square for awhile, we noticed that there was an open
doorway in front of the Town Hall. We went over to investigate, and found
ourselves in a courtyard with some statues.
Fountain, Town Hall Courtyard
Connie and Bob and Town Hall Fountain
Apparently there are periodic tours given of the Town Hall, but this didn’t sound
that interesting to us, so we left the courtyard and then left the square, via a
street just to the left of the Town Hall. This street was the road to the second
most well-known tourist attraction in Brussels, the Manneken-Pis.
Manneken-Pis seems at first glance to be an unlikely attraction for visitors to
Brussels – maybe at second glance too. It’s an instantly-recognizable bronze
sculpture of a rude toddler urinating into a fountain. It’s only 24 inches tall,
and was created by a sculptor named Hieronimus Duquesnoy the Elder in 1619. The
Manneken-Pis on display is a copy – the original is in the Maison du Roi museum on
the Grand Place. A good thing, as the one on display has been repeatedly stolen
and subjected to a variety of indignities. On occasion the young man is dressed
in custom-made costumes (an officially sanctioned and painstakingly planned
indignity). There has been an enormous selection of costumes throughout the years
(mostly from the 20th Century, when the idea seemed to really take hold), and many
of the costumes are also on display at the Maison du Roi. On our visit the statue
was au naturale. Also on occasion the statue is hooked up to kegs of
Belgian beer, and passersby are treated to free cups that are dispensed in a unique
way. There are a number of stories dealing with the origin of the statue, ranging
from a heroic boy dousing fires to a young prince showering armies to victory, but
it’s unclear which, if any, are the true inspiration. It doesn’t seem to matter,
as the statue is constantly surrounded by adoring tourists who couldn’t possibly be aware
of the stories, and there are copies of the statue all over the world, on display
to people who probably are mostly unaware that the original is in Belgium. There
is some kind of universal appeal to the statue – it’s a little bit naughty, and
perhaps there’s something in the boy’s attitude that people find admirable or
enviable.
Manneken-Pis
Manneken-Pis
Bob and Manneken-Pis
Crowd and Manneken-Pis
Another universal principle is in evidence around Manneken-Pis – the principle that
tourist magnets are always surrounded by vendors trying to sell you stuff. But in
this case the vendors weren’t entirely unwelcome, at least to us, as many of them
were selling good things to eat. Most prominent were the candy stores.
Godiva and Leonidas Chocolate Shops
Chocolate-Dipped Strawberries, Godiva
Chocolates
Chocolates
Macarons
Fruit-Flavored Candies
Marzipan Fruit
Marzipan Rodents
Brussels is a treacherous city for dieters. Those that visit are likely to become
either former dieters or painfully frustrated. We weren’t dieting, but even so we
managed to get through the candy stores without buying anything. We wondered what
other unwholesome temptations Belgium could subject us to. Frites … chocolate … waffles?
And there they were, beckoning to us from a store window. Our feeble resistance lasted
maybe a nanosecond.
Connie and Giant Manneken-Pis with Waffle
Waffles for Sale
Bob and Waffle
Nella and Waffle
Nella and Connie Demolishing Waffle
Totally ashamed of ourselves (well maybe a little ashamed), we decided we should
do some more walking around, preferably uphill. This took us to another area of
Brussels, an area known as the Upper Town.