Another motor trip took us somewhat farther afield, by Liège and Spa into the Ardennes, and back through Dinant and Namur. This is the Belgium of the Middle Ages, of Emperor Charlemagne and all his kin, of wars, and of wonders without end. Even its once famous watering place we found a thing of the past and not out of harmony with the legendary land round about.
Liège is the capital of the Walloon district, and with its dozen strong fortresses was, with Namur, considered the chief defense of the Meuse valley. Namur was supposed to block the road between France and Brussels, while Liège was to fend off Germany from the Belgian capital. It commands all the roads from Germany, indeed it was the door to Belgium which, once forced open, left the whole country at the mercy of the invaders. In ten days from its fall, the government officials removed from Brussels to Antwerp, later to Ostend, and finally to Havre. In a fortnight the Germans had hewn their way to Charleroi. Liège as we saw it had about two hundred thousand inhabitants, and was beautifully placed on a high bluff overlooking the river, with hills and fertile valleys surrounding it.
Not far from there is the ancient little town of Jupille, which they say is haunted by the shade of Pepin the Short, who lived there long ago. They still showed one the ruins of an old mill at the lower end of the village where Pepin’s wife, Bertha of the Big Foot, took refuge from her irate lord on the occasion of some misunderstanding between them.
GENERAL VIEW OF LIÈGE.
This Bertha was the mother of the great Charlemagne and lived to a ripe old age, coming down to us as the heroine of many legends. It is claimed that her famous son was born in this same village of Jupille, although this is much disputed. The author of “La Meuse Beige” suggests that the Emperor may have been born in a carriage or at some village inn, for “Pepin his father constantly found himself on the high roads about 742, and Bertha his mother was obliged, like the honest woman she was, to go from one place to another to meet her lord.”
At Liège we crossed the river, with its pretty embankments and bridges, into the more hilly country, climbing up winding roads that followed the ravines and streams, into higher places where the air was fresh and fragrant. Some of the towns through which we passed had a really Alpine look. Finally we turned into the long avenue which led us into Spa.
This pretty town, so famous as the first watering place in Europe, and for a long time the most fashionable, was deadly quiet that warm summer afternoon. On the terraces of the casino there was not a soul to be seen, and only two or three forlorn-looking drinkers at the spring-house. Even the promenades were empty.