of putting it stands the facts on their head.

"And (is noted) for the 'Battle of the Dunes' in 1600."

That is where the printer falls down. I was there during the Battle of
the Dunes. The nine is upside down in the date as given.

I wouldn't object so much if he were careless with facts that were
harmless, like his hotels and his dinner and his dates. But when he
gives bad advice that would lead people into trouble, I think he ought
to be jacked up. Listen to this:

"We may turn to the left to inspect the locks on the canals to Ostend."

Baedeker's proposal here means sure death to the reader who tries it.
That section is lined with machine guns. If a man began turning and
inspecting, he would be shot. Baedeker's statement is too casual. It
sounds like a suggestion for a leisurely walk. It isn't a sufficient
warning against doing something which shortens life. The word "inspect"
is unfortunate. It gives the reader the idea he is invited to nose
around those locks, when he had really better quiet down and keep away.
The sentries don't want him there. I should have written that sentence
differently. His kind of unconsidered advice leads to a lot of sadness.

"The Rue Longue contains a few quaint old houses."

It doesn't contain any houses at all. There are some heaps of scorched
rubble. "Quaint" is word painting.

"On the south side of this square rises the dignified Cloth Hall."

There is nothing dignified about a shattered, burned, tottering old
building. Why will he use these literary words?

"With a lately restored belfry."

It seems as if this writer couldn't help saying the wrong thing. A
Zouave gave us a piece of bronze from the big bell. It wasn't restored
at all. It was on the ground, broken.

"The church has a modern timber roof."

There he goes again--the exact opposite of what even a child could see
were the facts. And yet in his methodical, earnest way, he has tried to
get these things right. That church, for instance, has no roof at all.
It has a few pillars standing. It looks like a skeleton. I have a good
photograph of it, which the reader can see on page 69. If Baedeker would
stand under that "modern timber roof" in a rainstorm, he wouldn't think
so much of it.

"The Hotel de Ville contains a small collection of paintings."

I don't like to keep picking on what he says, but this sentence is
irritating. There aren't any paintings there, because things are
scattered. You can see torn bits