The square of the Hôtel de Ville was the scene of every popular commotion that has agitated Brabant, from the origin of the ducal dynasty, to the halcyon days of Albert and Isabella: it resounded with the insane riots of the Iconoclasts in 1566, and it was illuminated by the flames of the Inquisition, in which the same infuriated fanatics made a final expiation for their violence. It ran red with the blood of the protestants under Philip II.; and, in 1581, it rang with the acclamations of the followers of the Prince of Orange over the temporary abolition of the worship of Rome. So little is its architectural aspect altered since these thrilling scenes, that, with the Hôtel de Ville on one side, and on the other the old communal house, in which Egmont and Horn spent the night previous to their execution; and around them the venerable gothic fronts and fretted gables of its ancient dwellings, one might almost imagine it the ready scenery, and half expect the appearance of the dramatis personæ to re-enact the tragedy. The ornamental monuments of Brussels are neither very numerous, nor remarkable for their refinement of taste. The public fountain called “le Cracheur,” is the statue of a man, with his arms folded, and vomiting the stream for the accommodation of the public; and the famous little fountain of the _mannekin_, in the Rue de Chene, supplies her customers with water in a style perfectly unique, at least, in a statue. This eccentric little absurdity is the darling of the bourgeoisie, and the popular palladium of Brussels, and its memoirs are amongst the most ridiculous records of national trifling. The original which was of great antiquity, made of carved stone was replaced by one of iron. The present one is in bronze on the same model, and was cast by Duquesnoy in 1648. One story to account for its extreme popularity, is that it is a likeness of Godfrey, one of the Dukes of Brabant, who, when an infant, having escaped from his nurse, was discovered at the spot in the attitude immortalized by the little statue. By the mob, the mannekin is perfectly worshipped--he is called “le plus ancien bourgeois de la ville,” has the freedom of the city, and a feast day in July regularly appointed in his honour. On this occasion, he is clothed in a suit which was given him by Louis XV., consisting of a cocked hat and feathers, a sword and costume complete, the King, at the same time, creating him a Chevalier de St. Louis. Charles V. was equally beneficent to the mannekin, and Maximilian of Bavaria assigned him a valet-de-chambre. He has also been left legacies by more than one of the citizens; at the present moment his income is upwards of four hundred francs, paid to his valet for his services upon state occasions, and to a treasurer for the management of his estates. Brussels has, more than once, been thrown into dismay by the mannekin being carried off, and the utmost exertion has been made for his recovery.