Belfry of Bruges

Listen for a moment. Somewhere above the market square, a cascade of bells is falling through the air. The notes do not come from a single bell. They come from many bells at once, playing a melody that drifts down over the cobblestones and the café terraces. Under your feet the stones are uneven and worn smooth. Look up, and you will see where that music begins: a tall brick and stone tower that rises above the rooftops of Bruges.

This is the Belfry of Bruges. Locals call it the Belfort. It stands on the south side of the Markt, the great market square that has been the commercial heart of the city since the Middle Ages. The tower climbs to roughly eighty-three metres. For centuries it was the tallest structure most people in Bruges would ever see, and it was built to be seen. It was a statement in brick, made by a city that was proud, wealthy, and very sure of itself.

To understand why a market town needed such a tower, think about medieval Flanders. In the thirteenth century, Bruges was one of the great trading cities of northern Europe. Merchants came here from Italy, from the German towns of the Hanseatic League, which was a powerful network of northern trading cities, and from England. Cloth, wool, spices, and money all moved through these streets. A belfry was the symbol of a free city. Its bells belonged to the citizens, not to the church or the count.

The tower you see is not the first one on this spot. An earlier belfry, built largely of wood, stood here before it. Construction on the brick tower began around the middle of the thirteenth century. Then, in 1280, disaster struck. A fire swept through the building. It destroyed the structure and also the city archives kept inside. Charters, privileges, and records of the city's rights were lost in the flames. Bruges rebuilt, but the loss left a deep mark on its memory.

Now let your eyes travel slowly up the tower. You can read its history in layers. The lower, square section is the oldest part, solid and heavy, made of brick in warm, dusty tones. Higher up, the shape changes. The tower becomes octagonal, with eight sides. This upper section was added in the late fifteenth century, when Bruges was still rich and confident. The change in shape gives the tower its lighter, more elegant top.

Here is something many visitors walk past without noticing. The Belfry is not perfectly straight. It leans slightly towards the east, by roughly a metre at the top. From the square you will probably not see it at first. But stand back, find a straight line nearby, such as a doorframe or a lamp post, and compare. Medieval builders worked on soft Flemish ground, and over the centuries the tower has settled a little.

The top of the tower also looked different in the past. For a long time, a tall wooden spire crowned the Belfry. Fire and lightning damaged it more than once, and after a fire in the eighteenth century the spire was not rebuilt. Instead, in the early nineteenth century, the city added the stone parapet you see today, in a Gothic Revival style. So the crown of this medieval tower is, in fact, much younger than the rest of it.

At the foot of the tower are the Halls, the old market buildings that wrap around an inner courtyard. Merchants once traded goods here under cover from the rain. If you walk through the entrance, you will find a quiet, enclosed space, very different from the noise of the square outside. Look at the arcades and the old stone. This courtyard was a place of business, and on some days it still hosts markets and events.

If you decide to climb, prepare yourself. There are 366 steps to the top. The staircase is narrow and steep, and in places it spirals tightly around a central column. People coming down must squeeze past people going up. But the climb is broken by rooms along the way. One of these is the treasury, a chamber behind heavy iron grilles. This is where the city kept its most important charters and its seal after the fire of 1280.

Higher up, you reach the heart of the music. The Belfry holds a carillon of 47 bells. A carillon is an instrument made of many tuned bells, played from a keyboard. Near the bells you will see a huge metal drum, covered with small pins. As the drum turns, the pins trigger the bells and play the automatic tunes you hear every quarter hour. It works a little like a giant music box, the size of a room.

The bells are not only played by machine. Bruges has a city carillonneur, a musician who plays the carillon by hand. The keyboard uses wooden batons, struck with the fists, and pedals pressed with the feet. It is physical work. On certain days you can hear live carillon concerts across the Markt. Locals often sit on benches nearby, or pause on their bicycles, and simply listen. It is one of the oldest public concerts in the city.

In 1999, the Belfry became part of a UNESCO World Heritage listing that brings together the belfries of Belgium and northern France. These towers share a story. They stood for civic freedom and local government in the medieval Low Countries. For a newer generation of visitors, the tower is also familiar from the 2008 film In Bruges, where the narrow stairs and the view from the top play a central role. Many people climb today because of that film.

From the top, if you make the climb, the whole city opens below you. Red-tiled roofs, stepped gables, church spires, and the lines of the canals spread out towards the flat Flemish countryside. On a clear day you can see far across the land. And even if you stay on the ground, the view upward is its own reward. The tower changes colour through the day, from pale gold in the morning to deep amber in the evening.

Before you move on, stand still for one more minute. Feel the stones of the square under your feet, the same stones that merchants and citizens crossed for centuries. Watch the clock face. Wait for the next quarter hour. When the bells begin again, notice how the sound moves across the square and fills the small streets around it. As you walk away, keep listening. In Bruges, the Belfry will follow you for quite some time.