We all have places that we often drift back to–either mentally, spiritually, and/or literally via travel–and I think that can be true especially of places we remember from childhood. 

One such place for me is la Grand Place in Brussels. Having spent the earliest years of my life walking to the “centre ville”, I often think of it fondly, and especially in connection to the holidays… back in the late 80s up to the mid90s.

With its festive lit-up shops ranging from Belgian chocolate, waffles, marzipan and other confections; not to forget books, toys, and lace; to the street vendors whose roasted chestnuts made my fingers sooty and warm; to the cobbled ancient streets that led to the crèche with live animals and huge Christmas tree in the town square, it makes for distinct cherished memories. Even the grey skies and rainy weather, which some consider gloomy, is one I often miss. Though I couldn’t articulate it yet at the time–or knew of the harrowing effects of “Bruxellisation”–the intricate architecture also played its part in fueling my sense of awe and appreciation for beauty and history. The added fact that some shops have significantly changed since then also adds a sense of nostalgia to my memories. 

And yet there is a more ominous side to the place that my parents experienced and which I didn’t learn about until well after I’d left the country. In the early 80s, my parents had a spiritual bookstore only steps away from la Grand Place, on the ancient Rue du Marché aux Herbes that dates to the 11th century. As Christian believers of different cultures and denominations, their inventory included Christian titles while offering varied texts from different spiritual traditions that made it a place of interest to diverse visitors. What I eventually learned from my father’s multilayered experience inspired one of my earliest short stories, Le Jardin de l’Esprit (in my first short story collection, Twisted Reflections.) Translated to “the garden of the spirit”, it was the name they’d chosen for their bookstore in the bustling heart of the city. Curiously, the term “spirit” ended up being operative in disturbing ways. As confusing as un/explained paranormal activity can be, the fact that different people had their own unsettling experiences adds corroboration to the mystery. 

As I’ve been curious about and interested in the paranormal from a young age–not from macabre interest but (I later realized) as an early “hint” of the reality of the spiritual world–in my eagerness to try to understand what might’ve caused it, it didn’t take long to note that the famed square, as lovely as it is, was also the site of intense and violent events.

With its history as an open-air market since the 11th century, la Grand Place became a hub for commerce and a public space. Therefore, and like many other such squares throughout the world, public executions were also held there. As it turns out, this included the burning at the stake of the two Augustinian friars Jan van Essen and Hendrik Vos for Lutheranism in 1523. This made them the first Protestant martyrs of the Reformation and launched the Inquisition in this area that was then part of the Spanish Netherlands.

A few decades later in 1568, amidst the tumultuous Council of Troubles to suppress rebellion in the Netherlands, the two Catholic nobles Lamoral, Count of Egmont and Philippe de Montmorency, Count of Horne were beheaded as treasonous for not being inquisitorial enough, fanning the flames of the Eighty Years’ War. This event had widespread impact in Europe and was also cited by Montaigne in his Essais, namely in Que l’intention juge nos actions (Book 1, Chapter 7, 1588; translated in English as: That the Intention is Judge of Our Actions).

Shortly after in 1595, Josyne van Beethoven (born van Vlasselaer) from Kampenhout was tried, tortured–and attempted suicide–before being burned as a witch on the Grand Place. Her alleged crimes included a pact with the Devil and repeatedly causing the death of livestock after she had passed them by. As you might’ve guessed from the name, she was also an ancestor of the German composer, Ludwig van Beethoven, thus placing his family roots to Mechelen (near Kampenhout).

Speaking of witches and Brussels in that time: Pieter Bruegel the Elder had depicted witches a few decades earlier, such as in his 1565 engraving, St. James and the Magician Hermogenes. It’s considered one of the earliest depictions of a witch on a broom, a motif he’d go on to use often and which many other artists copied, to lasting popular visual effect.

In the event where Brussels-related witch trial documentation is scarce, I wouldn’t be surprised if a potential answer may be found in the next event.

A century later in 1695, the city was bombarded by the French troops of Louis XIV amidst the Nine Years’ War, in part to terrify the civilian population. Though it was the most destructive event in Brussels history, I like to think that a spirit of endurance was at work when the prompt rebuilding transformed the initially modest structures into the current majestic forms that makes it one of the most beautiful squares in the world. Indeed, some guildhall facades can be seen with dates at the top–like 1697 on the building Le Sac, 1698 on l’Arbre d’Or and Le Cygne, and 1699 on Le Renard–commemorating how quickly they rebuilt from this terrible devastation. Sadly, archives were surely lost to the conflagration that might’ve shed more light on a range of events.

Yet another execution case followed about two decades later in 1719, when the guild dean Frans Anneessens (aka François Anneessens) was executed for inciting an uprising against the new Habsburg rule in Brussels. In the 19th century, when Belgium became an independent nation, he was made into a patriotic hero in the same vein as the Counts of Egmont and Horne for defying Austrian despotism.

More recently, the Nazis also occupied Brussels in 1940-1944, adding yet another layer of turmoil to this historical site. 

While these were significant historical cases, there’s surely much more that happened and might’ve been both documented and lost, while others simply weren’t documented at all. Nor might paranormal activity be the result of only one event and/or entity. Though some restless (and one hopes, generally harmless) spirits might want to interact with the living and/or help to cross over–more aggressive entities suggest darker natures whose persistent phenomena may be harder to resolve.  

One of the details from my parents’ time as bookstore owners has me especially thinking of imprisonment–namely in the form of being chained.

Even if this manifested more as a spiritual than literal symbol, this was also likely a factor in nearby locations; such as incarcerations in towers, dungeons, cellars, etc. According to some sources, it’s even likely that prisoners were at times detained in the attic of the Hôtel de Ville (Town Hall), even if temporarily. Other examples include the nearby locations of Hotel Amigo, which served as a prison in the 16th century, and the Porte de Hal (Halle Gate) in the 17th century and is now a medieval museum.

Despite the unpleasant aspects and lingering unanswered questions, I find it endearing–and perhaps telling in different ways–that my parents’ spiritual bookstore drew a diverse crowd. In a sense it might mirror some of the location’s long history and the cultural and religious tensions it was subjected to.

For my father, whose experience I wanted to capture in writing, this foray into bookselling yielded not only the discovery of edifying (and surely timely) Christian texts, but also longtime friends, some of whom arguably had their own spiritual gifts. 

Out of curiosity, during my last visit to Brussels (in 2005, so 20 years ago already!), I visited the location that had become a shoe store. I did not stay long, and the area in question that I would’ve wanted to see was not accessible anyway–nor does it mean I would’ve “seen” anything even if I had. While a part of me wonders if more strange activity has continued after all these years, I hope that it’s finally moved on to the only restful place there is.

To be sure, my own Brussels attachments and interests continue to inspire my stories, such as The Constant Building in Our Lives Are Fairy Tales, and the forthcoming Angels of Brussels, to name a few.