“Here I and sorrows sit. This is my throne, bid Kings come worship
it.” Such seems to be an appropriate legend for Raemaekers’ beautiful
triptych which he has entitled “Our Lady of Antwerp.” Full of
compassion and sympathy for all the sufferings of her people, she sits
with the Cathedral outlined behind her, her heart pierced with many
agonies. On the left is one of the many widows who have lost their
all in this war. On the right is a soldier stricken to death, who has
done his utmost service for his country and brings the record of his
gallantry to the feet of Our Lady of Antwerp.
Antwerp, as we know, was at the height of its prosperity in the
sixteenth century. We have been told that no fewer than five hundred
ships used to enter her port in the course of a day, while more than
two thousand could be seen lying in her harbour at one time. Her people
numbered as many as one million, her fairs attracted merchants from all
parts of Europe, and at least five hundred million guilders were put
into circulation every year. We know what followed. Its very prosperity
proved a bait to the conqueror. In 1576 the city was captured by the
Spaniards, who pillaged it for three days. Nine years later the Duke
of Parma conquered it, and about the time when Queen Elizabeth was
resisting the might of Spain Antwerp’s glory had departed and its trade
was ruined. At the close of the Napoleonic wars the city was handed
over to the Belgians.
A place of many memories, whose geographical position was well
calculated to arouse the cupidity of the Germans, was bound to be
gallantly defended by the little nation to which it now belonged.
Whether earlier help by the British might or might not have altered
the course of history we cannot tell. Perhaps it was not soon enough
realised how important it was to keep the Hun invader from the sacred
soil. At all events we do not look back on the British Expedition in
aid of Antwerp in 1914 with any satisfaction, because the assistance
rendered was either not ample enough or else it was belated, or both.
So that Our Lady of Antwerp has still to bewail the ruthless tyranny of
Berlin, though perhaps she looks forward to the time when, once more
in possession of her own cities, Belgium may enter upon a new course
of prosperity. We are pledged to restore Belgium, doubly and trebly
pledged, by the words of the Prime Minister, and justice will not be
done until the great act of liberation is accomplished.