Lier is a small Flemish town with an embarrassment of historical riches. If Bruges and Ghent didn’t exist, it might well be overrun with tourists. Medieval buildings radiate out from the Grote Markt where one of its two UNESCO World Heritage sites, the Stadhuis and Belfry, stand. Nearby, you can stroll along the pretty River Nete opposite a once busy wharf lined with more medieval buildings, and soon find yourself at Lier’s beguinage, its second World Heritage site.
Sleepy though it is today, in 1496 Lier was at the heart of medieval high politics. Just four years after her parents, Isabella I of Castile and Ferdinand II of Aragon, had conquered Spain from the Moorish kingdoms, Joanna of Castile and Aragon was in Lier to marry Philip, Duke of Burgundy, son of the Habsburg Holy Roman Emperor Maximilian I and Mary of Burgundy.
Uniting the Spanish crown and the Habsburgs, the marriage brought together two very powerful political and military dynasties and changed European history forever. This fact was made obvious by the fleet of 130 ships that brought 20,000 Spanish nobility, as well as vast amounts of wine and food, from Spain for the celebrations. This was the wedding of the century.
For a town of fewer than 40,000 people that would be impressive enough, but Lier has a wealth of other delights to offer. Founded in the 8th century, by the 14th century Lier was an important and wealthy textile town ringed by an impressive defensive wall and towered over by the enormous Sint-Gummaruskerk, which dates from the same time but took two centuries to complete.
The defensive walls and canal that ran around the outside of them, didn’t stop Lier being captured by the Spanish in 1582, by the Dutch a few years later, and even the English a couple of centuries after that. The walls are long gone, replaced by a 5km circuit passing through woods and alongside the canal as it loops around the town. The only original building left from the old wall is Het Spui, a canal lock building.
The walk around the canal is peaceful, I met a few dog walkers, some cyclists, and a very angry goose, but mostly I had the path to myself. At Het Spui there is a statue of a sheep head. This might seem odd unless you know that the people of Lier are known as Schapekoppen, or sheeps head. As reward for assisting the Duke of Brabant in an early 14th century war he gave them a choice: they could have a university or livestock market.
They chose livestock. Legend states that the Duke uttered the words, “Oh, those sheep heads” in disbelief. The nickname hasn’t just stuck, it has been adopted as a badge of honor by the town. There is even a Sociëteit van de Schaepshoofden that organises events, frequently sheep themed. It’s a town that doesn’t take itself too seriously. To underscore that fact, they also host an annual rubber duck race.
I finished my stroll around the canal at the Begijnhofpoort which led me into the interior of Lier’s beguinage. This is one of the most attractive of Belgium’s beguinages, the former lay female religious communities that sprang up across this region in medieval times. The women were free to come and go at will, but these walled communities were very much seperate from the town, almost like a village within a village.
It is an atmospheric spot with no traffic or tour groups to interrupt the tranquility. There were renovations at the Sint-Margaretakerk, which was sadly closed, but it’s a pleasure to just wander the narrow cobbled streets. Back in the real world, I headed to the medieval Zimmertoren with its 1930s Astronomical Clock. It displays time through various globes and dials. One globe is notable for still having the Belgian Congo highlighted on it.
I worked my way back to the wharf, grabbed a table overlooking the river and ordered a late lunch with a locally brewed Caves beer at the Café Sint Gummarus. Lier is a lovely place to spend a day soaking up the relaxed vibe of this underrated gem. I’ve marked my calendar for May 2024, the next Lier rubber duck race.
Quite a hiostorical town. Now Charles V was more Flemish than Spanish, really.
It’s a lovely place, Brian. Still, a bit strange that it was host to such a huge event when much bigger towns are nearby.
True. But then, there were castles everywhere. Practicity (distance by horse or carriage?) was a factor maybe. Or a major relation lived there?
Charles Vth was born in Gand (Ghent?) if I’m not mistaken. Back then Bruges might even have been larger than Gand? Who knows.
All well my friend?
Remarkable how central this bit of Europe was to European politics back in medieval times. I suppose it hasn’t changed much, what with all the EU institutions here. All well, thanks Brian. Brussels is recovering from the recent murder of two Swedish people by someone professing allegiance to ISIS. A terrible event that happened a 5 minute walk from the apartment. Sadly a drop in the ocean of larger events around the world. Hope all’s well with you?
A drop indeed. Sadly.
I know that “Place”, it is practically facing the Corto Maltese murals on the Quai des péniches if I’m not mistaken. I walked over there from the Grand-Place on my last trip to “catch” the murals. So live quite close. Strange. I must have taken the same streets you walk or ride by every day…
All well here. The hurricane in Acapulco has destroyed most of the city. One doesn’t know yet the number of casualties, but the physical destruction is frightening. Strangely, not a word in the French media…
Stay safe Paul.
You’re right, Brian, it is just along the canal from the Corto Maltese artwork, itself only a short walk from my apartment so you were definitely in the ‘hood’!
I hadn’t heard about Acapulco but have just been reading about it. Things have to be bad when a tragedy like that barely makes a dent in the news cycle.
Take care Brian
Quite close indeed.
Yes, things are bad. Here Acapulco is a major disaster. The city is practically destroyed…
You too.
It’s lovely! With or without a rubber duck race…
Can’t wait to see the rubber duck race though!
It looks great. And o so clean!
It certainly is! A very pleasant place all around.