Antwerp City Hall

Stand on the cobbles of the Grote Markt and feel how uneven they are underfoot. Old stones, worn smooth by centuries of boots and carts. In front of you, a long pale facade fills the western side of the square. Flags move gently along its upper storeys, and the low hum of café terraces drifts across the open space. This is Antwerp City Hall, the Stadhuis, and it has watched over this market square for more than four and a half centuries.

The building went up in the 1560s, at a moment when Antwerp was one of the richest cities in Europe. Ships from across the known world crowded the river Scheldt, a short walk from here. Spices, cloth, silver and sugar passed through the port. Bankers and merchants from Italy, Portugal, Germany and England kept offices in the city. A new city hall was a statement. It told every visitor that Antwerp had money, confidence, and taste.

The design is credited mainly to Cornelis Floris, a local sculptor and architect, working with a group of other craftsmen. Look at how the facade is built in layers. The ground floor is a sturdy arcade of heavy stone arches. Above it, rows of tall windows are framed by columns in different classical styles, one style stacked on top of another. This was a new language in the Low Countries at the time — the Renaissance, a revival of ancient Greek and Roman forms that had spread north from Italy.

But the building is not purely Italian. Look up at the roofline. Behind the flat classical front, steep roofs climb in a very northern way, ready for rain and grey skies. And in the centre, a tall decorated section rises far above the rest, almost like a tower pressed flat against the facade. That central piece mixes Italian order with Flemish love of height and ornament. Architectural historians often describe the result as a bridge between two traditions.

Now focus on that central section. Near the top stands a statue of the Virgin Mary, the city's protector. Below her, you can find figures representing virtues such as Justice and Wisdom. Lower still, stone coats of arms are carved into the facade. They belong to the powers that ruled the city when it was built — the Duchy of Brabant, the Spanish king, and the margraviate of Antwerp itself. The building is a carved statement of who held authority here.

Here is something many visitors miss. The arcade at street level was not originally meant for government business. Those ground floor spaces were rented out as shops. The city earned income from its own city hall. It is a very Antwerp idea — practical, commercial, and proud at the same time. Even the seat of power was expected to pay its way.

The building's early years were violent. In 1576, unpaid Spanish soldiers mutinied and plundered the city in an episode remembered as the Spanish Fury. Thousands of residents died, and the city hall was set on fire. The interior burned. The stone shell survived, and the building was restored in the years that followed. So the facade you see today carries the memory of one of the darkest weeks in the city's history.

Antwerp never fully regained its golden status after the sixteenth century. Political and religious wars cut the city off from the sea trade for a long time. Yet the city hall stayed in use, and it still works as the seat of the city government today. Couples marry here. Officials meet here. In the nineteenth century, parts of the interior were redecorated with large historical paintings that celebrated Antwerp's past. In recent years the whole building went through a major restoration, cleaning the stone and renewing the interior.

In 1999, the city hall was added to the UNESCO World Heritage List. It was included as part of a group of belfries and civic buildings in Belgium and France. These buildings shared one idea. They were symbols of town independence, built by citizens rather than by kings or bishops. Look at the facade again with that in mind. It is not a palace. It is a town's own house.

Now turn around. In the middle of the square stands a bronze fountain, created by the sculptor Jef Lambeaux in the late nineteenth century. At the top, a young man holds a severed hand high above his head. Water spills down over the rocks and figures below him. This is Brabo, and he belongs to the most famous story in Antwerp.

Legend has it that a giant called Antigoon once lived by the river. He demanded a toll from every ship that passed. Sailors who could not pay lost a hand. A brave Roman soldier named Brabo finally defeated the giant, cut off his hand, and threw it into the river. Locals say the city's name comes from this story — hand werpen, meaning to throw a hand. Historians prefer a less dramatic origin for the name, but the legend is everywhere in Antwerp. You will even find hand-shaped biscuits and chocolates in nearby shops.

Take a moment to look around the rest of the square. Tall, narrow guildhouses line the other sides, with stepped and decorated gables. Many carry gilded figures on their peaks. Guilds were associations of craftsmen and traders, and these houses were their meeting places. Together with the city hall, they frame one of the finest market squares in the Low Countries. Just beyond the rooftops, the spire of the Cathedral of Our Lady rises into the sky.

If you come back in the evening, the square changes. The facade is lit from below, and the stone takes on a warm golden tone. The flags become dark shapes against the sky. Café chairs fill up, glasses clink, and the fountain keeps running. It is a good time to sit for a while and simply watch the building.

Before you walk on, look once more at the long line of windows and the carved centre. Think of the merchants who walked under that arcade, the fire of 1576, the couples who still come out through these doors as newlyweds. The cobbles under your feet are the same kind of stones they walked on. As you leave the square, listen for the fountain behind you. It follows you for a few steps, and then the city takes over.