CHAPTER NINETEEN.
IMAGE-BREAKING IN ANTWERP.
From this time forward Antwerp was in a state of constant excitement andcommotion. Count Brederode took up his quarters in the city, and dailyentertained a crowd of nobles at his hotel, stirring them up to opposethe Government. Count Meghem, the great enemy of the Reformers, alsocame into the city; and it was supposed that he was laying a plan forthe introduction of a garrison, and for collecting a store of ammunitionto overawe the inhabitants. The chief people of the city, therefore,resolved to send to the Prince of Orange, to request his presence, inorder to try and pacify all parties. He reached Antwerp on the 13th ofJuly. The inhabitants of the city were wild with enthusiasm at thethought of his coming. Thousands, I may say tens of thousands, from allparts of the city went forth from the gates to bid him welcome. A'Daleand I were among the number. The road along which he was to pass formiles was lined with human beings. The roofs of the houses--theramparts--every spot whence a sight of the street could be obtained, waspacked close with eager and expectant faces. A long cavalcade ofcitizens, with Count Brederode and a number of confederates, rode forthto escort him into the city. As soon as he appeared at the head of asmall body of gentlemen, his demeanour calm and unmoved, Brederode andhis companions fired a salute from their pistols. It was the signal forloud and reiterated shouts from the assembled multitude, while again andagain the cry of "Long live the Beggars!" was repeated. In vain thePrince entreated them not to utter that cry.
"I have come," he said, "not to side with any party, but to endeavour torestore tranquillity to the city."
The general feeling was that he had both the power and ability to keephis word. Day after day he was engaged in endeavouring to quiet thepublic mind. All classes of the people were consulted. At length itwas agreed that the exercise of the Reformed religion should be excludedfrom the city, but tolerated in the suburbs; and that an armed force ofthe citizens should be kept in readiness to suppress insurrection. Tothese arrangements the people agreed, and the Regent highly commendedthe Prince for what he had done: King Philip pretended also to approveof his conduct, but in reality took no steps to abolish the Inquisitionor to renounce persecution. He, as was suspected, only awaited his timeto destroy the Prince himself.
Shortly after this the Prince was called away to Brussels, to attend acouncil held by the Regent. About the same time a meeting of theconfederates had been held in Duffel, the result of which was that Louisof Nassau, with twelve associates, laid before the Regent a statement oftheir views. They declared that they were ever ready to mount and rideagainst a foreign foe, but that they would never draw a sword to injuretheir innocent countrymen. Their proposals were received with a verybad grace by the Regent, whom they quitted, most of them feeling thatthe only resource left was to draw the sword in defence of theircountry.
No sooner had the Prince of Orange left Antwerp than the city was oncemore thrown into a state of commotion. I should mention that Antwerpcontains numerous fine and richly adorned churches: the largest is thatof Our Lady, which King Philip a short time before had converted into acathedral.
Close to the chief entrance I had frequently seen an old woman--BarbaraTrond by name--who gained her livelihood by the sale of wax tapers,little leaden ornaments of the Virgin and saints, and other Papisticaltrickeries. She managed also to gain many a coin by the persuasivepowers of her tongue, which she wagged with considerable effect on alloccasions. When she pleased, nothing could be more smooth and oily; butwhen angered, that tongue could utter oaths and abuse with unsurpassedvehemence. One morning A'Dale and I were strolling beside thecathedral, when a small party of idle boys and ragamuffins happened tocome that way intent on mischief, if they could possibly achieve it.One of them with a grave air walked up to the old woman's table, and,taking a taper in one hand and a saint in the other, inquired the priceof the articles. A loud laugh followed her reply.
"What! your whole stock in trade is not worth a tenth of the sum. Yoursaints if melted together would scarcely make one decent-sized bullet,and all your candles would not afford light sufficient to an honestweaver during the labours of one winter evening. Give up selling suchtrash, Dame Trond; try and make a livelihood in some more respectablecalling!"
Such and similar remarks quickly excited the ire of old Barbara. Herreplies were not such as to soothe the tempers of those who stood byher. Gibes and shouts of laughter proceeded from every side, till theold dame, giving way to the fury of her temper, seized the stool onwhich she sat, and began to lay about her on every side. In an instant,the mob charged the table on which her wares were spread for exhibition,and trampled them on the ground. She retreating, and flourishing herstool, entered the cathedral, where they with shouts of laughterfollowed her. We should have been wise if we had kept out of thechurch, but instead of that we could not resist the temptation offollowing the old woman's pursuers, as did numbers of others who werenear at the time. Her courage was worthy of a better cause, not thatany one really attempted to injure her--though she, as she went up thechurch, seized whatever came in her way, and hurled it at the heads ofher assailants. The shouts of the rabble attracted others from adistance, and thus in a short time the cathedral was full of people;some, like Barbara Trond's first assailants, inclined for mischief, buta large number merely spectators, as we were. The mob began to shoutnow one thing, now another. "Down with these Romish mummeries! downwith the idols!" were the cries we chiefly heard. The crowd surged toand fro, but contented themselves with merely shouting, withoutattempting to commit any mischief. It was evident, however, that tothis they would soon proceed, as several persons had already hurried offto the Town House to give information of the outbreak to themagistrates. In a short time a body of these dignitaries, in theirrobes of state, were seen entering the cathedral, headed by the Margraveof Antwerp--John Van Immerzeel--the two burgomasters walking on eitherside of him, and the senators following. He stopped in the centre ofthe church, and harangued the mob. By his persuasions those on theoutside agreed to take their departure, hoping that their example mightbe followed by the rest. But the hour of evening service wasapproaching, and the ragamuffin crew, who certainly cared very littlefor masses or services of any sort, declared that they could not thinkof leaving the church until they had enjoyed the benefit of that aboutto be performed. In reply, they were told that no vespers would be heldthat night, and were again entreated to disperse.
"If we go, the people will follow," observed one of the burgomasters tothe Margrave. "Let all the doors be closed, except the one out of whichwe go, and the people will swarm out like bees from their hive."
Thankful to get out of the church with whole skins, the magistratesmarched forth in as dignified a manner as they could assume. TheMargrave, however, remained behind, endeavouring to persuade those whowere still in the church to retreat. But the rabble were not in ahumour to be persuaded. Something said by the Margrave offended them,and, in spite of his threats and exhortations, they rushed on him andsent him ignominiously flying out of the church. They instantly threwopen all the other portals, and the populace, who had been retiring likean ebbing tide, now rushed back, and flowed into the building, ragingand foaming like an angry sea.
A'Dale and I had remained at the further end of the church, unable,without mixing with the crowd, to make our escape. Those who had chargeof the building made a vain attempt to carry off some of its moreprecious possessions, but they had to retreat before the threateningaspect of the crowd. Instead of the expected vespers, a hymn was raisedby the multitude who filled the church. At that moment, perhaps manywho joined in it hoped that it would have the effect of tranquillisingthe multitude. Scarcely, however, had it concluded before a band of themost ruffianly-looking of the assemblage united together, and, as ifwith one accord, made a rush at the figure of the Virgin--the same idolwhich had been carried about the city a few days previously. Before anyone could interfere, it was dragged from its pedestal and hurled
to theground. It was immediately set upon, the rich robes were torn off it,and with axes and hammers, wielded by brawny arms, the figure in a fewminutes was hewn into a thousand pieces, which were scattered over thefloor. A wild shout of triumph succeeded. All sorts of weapons ofdestruction were now produced by the mob. Some had sledge-hammers intheir hands, others axes, and others bludgeons; while ladders,handspikes, and ropes and blocks were brought into the church.Immediately they went to work. The images which could be most easilygot at were hurled from their niches, and the pictures were torn fromthe walls, and the painted windows shivered to atoms. Some of the menwere seen climbing up the carved work, striking with their hammers onevery side; others, placing ladders against the walls or columns,ascended to dizzy heights, with ropes and blocks, and pulled down theornaments which were otherwise out of reach. The wax candles wereseized from the altars, and held by some of the party to light theothers in executing their task. Everything was done in the mostsystematic manner. There were no less than seven chapels in thecathedral, every one of which in succession was utterly spoilt. Chestsof treasure were broken open, and the gorgeous robes of the priestsdragged forth, many of the mob attiring themselves in them. Casks ofwine were broached and the liquor poured into the golden chalices, outof which the despoilers quaffed huge draughts to the Beggars' health.Splendid manuscripts were torn into sheds; and in a short time theinterior of the richest church in the Netherlands was an utter wreck.But poor as were the despoilers, not a particle of gold or silver didany of them carry off. The ground was literally strewn with cups andornaments of precious metals, and jewels, and embroidered garments,broken, torn, and defaced, in every possible way, mingled with themarble fragments of the images and the rich and elaborate carvings whichhad been cast to the ground.
Their work being complete, the band of image-breakers, each seizing aburning torch, rushed forth from the cathedral, and, as they sweptthrough the streets, shouted with loud and hoarse voices, "Long live theBeggars!" On they went. Every crucifix, every image of the Virgin orother idol, every symbol of Romanism, was dashed to pieces. With sturdyblows they burst open the doors of the next church they reached. Inthey rushed with their ladders, and sledge-hammers, and other weapons,and in a short time all the images, and all the ornaments were hurled tothe ground and broken in pieces. Church after church felt the effectsof their fury; none escaped. With wonderful rapidity the interiors werecompletely gutted.
Although by this time the streets were full of people, yet but a smallband--it was generally thought not more than one hundred men--performedthe whole of the work. They probably had many friends and supporters;but it was strange that no one should have attempted to interfere withthem.
The authorities were completely panic-struck, expecting that their ownTown Hall would be the next attacked. From the churches they went tothe convents, which they treated in the same way. All the altars,statues, and pictures were utterly destroyed; and, to punish the monks,they descended into the cellars, where they broached every cask theyfound, pouring out the wine in one great flood, though abstaining fromdrinking it themselves. The inmates of the nunneries fled, and in alldirections they were seen in the streets, rushing here and there,shrieking and crying out as if they were pursued. Their terror,however, was imaginary, for, savage as the image-breakers might haveappeared, they had but one object in view, and not a nun or monk was inthe slightest degree injured. In the prison of the Barefooted Monasterythey found an unhappy monk who had been shut up for twelve years for hisheretical opinions, and with loud shouts of joy they liberated him fromhis dungeon.
When morning dawned, it was found that the interiors of no less thanthirty churches inside the walls had been utterly destroyed. Not agraven image, scarcely a picture, remained in any of them.
We were out all night watching what was going forward. I, of course,have given but a very brief account of all the events which took place.
When we returned, Master Clough was not a little angry with us forhaving gone without his leave, although he was willing enough to receivethe account we had to give him. He talked indeed of reporting us to SirThomas as idle varlets, who did as little as they could for their pay.
More came out of this matter, as might be expected, as I shall haveshortly to describe.