Look ahead! St. James' Church stands out in front of you, with its twin chunky towers on the left-imagine castle towers but with a bit more medieval drama. The church’s walls are made from thick, grey stone, and up above, the tall octagonal spire reaches for the clouds. If the church feels a bit lopsided, that’s not your imagination-it really does have an asymmetric face thanks to a fire centuries ago! Just follow the rows of pointy, gothic windows-trust me, you can’t miss it.
Now that you’re standing here, take a deep breath and picture the street as it was almost a thousand years ago. The year is 1093. Pilgrims from across Europe have come trudging along, covered in dust and clutching scallop shells, stopping here on their long, sore-footed journey to Santiago de Compostela. The first church was just wood, but after invaders-led by a certain Robert Curthose, whose hobbies apparently included burning churches-swept through, it was rebuilt strong with stone. If you’re standing close to the western end, those towers you see are the oldest in Belgium to have a double-tower façade. History buffs, eat your hearts out!
But wait, there’s more! In the 13th century, they added that tall, octagonal tower in the middle, and then along came a fire that left one tower a little sad and stumpy-a kind of Gothic hairstyle gone wrong! Over centuries, St. James’ floor got raised higher and higher until the pillars now look short and sturdy, almost as if the church tried on shoes that were just a bit too thick.
Inside, the place buzzed with drama. During the wild religious battles of the 1500s, there were nights filled with smashing and chaos-imagine the whole street echoing with the sound of statues and altars toppling down. Ghent’s own chronicler wrote about the uproar, and you can almost sense that restless energy still floating around.
But the church survived. In the chapels you’ll find paintings by great masters-Gaspar de Crayer and Jan van Cleef-showing the adventures of the Trinitarian monks, who set off to rescue prisoners from slavery during the Crusades. Tucked away are not one, but two giant tombs for Jan Palfijn, the man who invented the birth forceps. Apparently, when they built his first grave, everyone agreed it wasn’t fancy enough, so a year later Ghent gave him a much splashier tomb. Because in Ghent, even the dead get upgrades.
And if you ever get a peek inside: imagine golden altars, enough religious art to make your head spin, and a classic pulpit with the apostle James, carved in white marble, teaching the crowd. And if you hear any heavy footsteps, don’t worry-it’s probably just another pilgrim, lost in time, looking for the next resting spot.
Ready to continue our journey through the ages? On to the next stop!
