Ecclesiastical architecture in the Netherlands--The image-breaking--
Description of Antwerp Cathedral--Ceremony of the Ommegang--
Precursory disturbances--Iconoclasts at Antwerp--Incidents of the
image--breaking in various cities--Events at Tournay--Preaching of
Wille--Disturbance by a little boy--Churches sacked at Tournay--
Disinterment of Duke Adolphus of Gueldres--Iconoclasts defeated and
massacred at Anchin--Bartholomew's Day at Valenciennes--General
characteristics of the image-breaking--Testimony of contemporaries
as to the honesty of the rioters--Consternation of the Duchess--
Projected flight to Mons--Advice of Horn and other seigniors--
Accord of 25th August.
The Netherlands possessed an extraordinary number of churches and
monasteries. Their exquisite architecture and elaborate decoration had
been the earliest indication of intellectual culture displayed in the
country. In the vast number of cities, towns, and villages which were
crowded upon that narrow territory, there had been, from circumstances
operating throughout Christendom, a great accumulation of ecclesiastical
wealth. The same causes can never exist again which at an early day
covered the soil of Europe with those magnificent creations of Christian
art. It was in these anonymous but entirely original achievements that
Gothic genius; awaking from its long sleep of the dark ages, first
expressed itself. The early poetry of the German races was hewn and
chiselled in atone. Around the steadfast principle of devotion then so
firmly rooted in the soil, clustered the graceful and vigorous emanations
of the newly-awakened mind. All that science could invent, all that art
could embody, all that mechanical ingenuity could dare, all that wealth
could lavish, whatever there was of human energy which was panting for
pacific utterance, wherever there stirred the vital principle which
instinctively strove to create and to adorn at an epoch when vulgar
violence and destructiveness were the general tendencies of humanity, all
gathered around these magnificent temples, as their aspiring pinnacles at
last pierced the mist which had so long brooded over the world.
There were many hundreds of churches, more or less remarkable, in the
Netherlands. Although a severe criticism might regret to find in these
particular productions of the great Germanic school a development of that
practical tendency which distinguished the Batavian and Flemish
branches,--although it might recognize a departure from that mystic
principle which, in its efforts to symbolize the strivings of humanity
towards the infinite object of worship above, had somewhat disregarded
the wants of the worshippers below,--although the spaces might be too
wide and the intercolumniations too empty, except for the convenience of
congregations; yet there were, nevertheless, many ecclesiastical
masterpieces, which could be regarded as very brilliant manifestations of
the Batavian and Belgic mind during the thirteenth and fourteenth
centuries. Many were filled with paintings from a school which had
precedence in time and merit over its sister nurseries of art in Germany.
All were peopled with statues. All were filled with profusely-adorned
chapels, for the churches had been enriched generation after generation
by wealthy penitence, which had thus purchased absolution for crime and
smoothed a pathway to heaven.
And now, for the space of only six or seven summer days and nights, there
raged a storm by which all these treasures were destroyed. Nearly every
one of these temples was entirely rifled of its contents; not for the
purpose of plunder, but of destruction. Hardly a province or a town
escaped. Art must forever weep over this bereavement; Humanity must
regret that the reforming is thus always ready to degenerate into the
destructive principle; but it is impossible to censure very severely the
spirit which prompted the brutal, but not ferocious deed. Those statues,
associated as they were with the remorseless persecution which had so
long desolated the provinces, had ceased to be images. They had grown
human and hateful, so that the people arose and devoted them to
indiscriminate massacre.
No doubt the iconoclastic fury is to be regretted; for such treasures can
scarcely be renewed. The age for building and decorating great cathedrals
is past. Certainly, our own age, practical and benevolent, if less
poetical, should occupy itself with the present, and project itself into
the future. It should render glory to God rather by causing wealth to
fertilize the lowest valleys of humanity, than by rearing gorgeous
temples where paupers are to kneel. To clothe the naked, redeem the
criminal, feed the hungry, less by alms and homilies than by preventive
institutions and beneficent legislation; above all, by the diffusion of
national education, to lift a race upon a level of culture hardly
attained by a class in earlier times, is as lofty a task as to accumulate
piles of ecclesiastical splendor.
It would be tedious to recount in detail the events which characterized
the remarkable image-breaking in the Netherlands. As Antwerp was the
central point in these transactions, and as there was more wealth and
magnificence in the great cathedral of that city than in any church of
northern Europe, it is necessary to give a rapid outline of the events
which occurred there. From its exhibition in that place the spirit every
where will best be shown.
The Church of Our Lady, which Philip had so recently converted into a
cathedral, dated from the year 1124, although it may be more fairly
considered a work of the fourteenth century. Its college of canons had
been founded in another locality by Godfrey of Bouillon. The Brabantine
hero, who so romantically incarnates the religious poetry of his age, who
first mounted the walls of redeemed Jerusalem, and was its first
Christian monarch, but who refused to accept a golden diadem on the spot
where the Saviour had been crowned with thorns; the Fleming who lived and
was the epic which the great Italian, centuries afterwards; translated
into immortal verse, is thus fitly associated with the beautiful
architectural poem which was to grace his ancestral realms. The body of
the church, the interior and graceful perspectives of which were not
liable to the reproach brought against many Netherland churches, of
assimilating themselves already to the municipal palaces which they were
to suggest--was completed in the fourteenth century. The beautiful
facade, with its tower, was not completed till the year 1518. The
exquisite and daring spire, the gigantic stem upon which the consummate
flower of this architectural creation was to be at last unfolded, was a
plant of a whole century's growth. Rising to a height of nearly five
hundred feet, over a church of as many feet in length, it worthily
represented the upward tendency of Gothic architecture. Externally and
internally the cathedral was a true expression of the Christian principle
of devotion. Amid its vast accumulation of imagery, its endless
ornaments, its multiplicity of episodes, its infinite variety of details,
the central, maternal principle was ever visible. Every thing pointed
upwards, from the spire in the clouds to the arch which enshrined the
smallest sculptured saint in the chapels below. It was a sanctuary, not
like pagan temples, to enclose a visible deity, but an edifice where
mortals might worship an unseen Being in the realms above.
The church, placed in the centre of the city, with the noisy streets of
the busiest metropolis in Europe eddying around its walls, was a sacred
island in the tumultuous main. Through the perpetual twilight, tall
columnar trunks in thick profusion grew from a floor chequered with
prismatic lights and sepulchral shadows. Each shaft of the petrified
forest rose to a preternatural height, their many branches intermingling
in the space above, to form an impenetrable canopy. Foliage, flowers and
fruit of colossal luxuriance, strange birds, beasts, griffins and
chimeras in endless multitudes, the rank vegetation and the fantastic
zoology of a fresher or fabulous world, seemed to decorate and to animate
the serried trunks and pendant branches, while the shattering symphonies
or dying murmurs of the organ suggested the rushing of the wind through
the forest, now the full diapason of the storm and now the gentle cadence
of the evening breeze.
Internally, the whole church was rich beyond expression. All that opulent
devotion and inventive ingenuity could devise, in wood, bronze, marble,
silver, gold, precious jewelry, or blazing sacramental furniture, had
been profusely lavished. The penitential tears of centuries had incrusted
the whole interior with their glittering stalactites. Divided into five
naves, with external rows of chapels, but separated by no screens or
partitions, the great temple forming an imposing whole, the effect was
the more impressive, the vistas almost infinite in appearance. The
wealthy citizens, the twenty-seven guilds, the six military associations,
the rhythmical colleges, besides many other secular or religious
sodalities, had each their own chapels and altars. Tombs adorned with the
effigies of mailed crusaders and pious dames covered the floor, tattered
banners hung in the air, the escutcheons of the Golden Fleece, an order
typical of Flemish industry, but of which Emperors and Kings were proud
to be the chevaliers, decorated the columns. The vast and
beautifully-painted windows glowed with scriptural scenes, antique
portraits, homely allegories, painted in those brilliant and forgotten
colors which Art has not ceased to deplore. The daylight melting into
gloom or colored with fantastic brilliancy, priests in effulgent robes
chanting in unknown language, the sublime breathing of choral music, the
suffocating odors of myrrh and spikenard, suggestive of the oriental
scenery and imagery of Holy Writ, all combined to bewilder and exalt the
senses. The highest and humblest seemed to find themselves upon the same
level within those sacred precincts, where even the bloodstained criminal
was secure, and the arm of secular justice was paralyzed.
But the work of degeneration had commenced. The atmosphere of the
cathedral was no longer holy in the eyes of increasing multitudes. Better
the sanguinary rites of Belgic Druids, better the yell of slaughtered
victims from the "wild wood without mercy" of the pagan forefathers of
the nation, than this fantastic intermingling of divine music, glowing
colors, gorgeous ceremonies, with all the burning, beheading and
strangling work which had characterized the system of human sacrifice for
the past half-century.
Such was the church of Notre Dame at Antwerp. Thus indifferent or hostile
towards the architectural treasure were the inhabitants of a city, where
in a previous age the whole population would have risked their lives to
defend what they esteemed the pride and garland of their metropolis.
The Prince of Orange had been anxiously solicited by the Regent to attend
the conference at Duffel. After returning to Antwerp, he consented, in
consequence of the urgent entreaties of the senate, to delay his
departure until the 18th of August should be past. On the 13th of that
month he had agreed with the magistrates upon an ordinance, which was
accordingly published, and by which the preachings were restricted to the
fields. A deputation of merchants and others waited upon him with a
request to be permitted the exercises of the Reformed religion in the
city. This petition the Prince peremptorily refused, and the deputies, as
well as their constituents, acquiesced in the decision, "out of especial
regard and respect for his person." He, however, distinctly informed the
Duchess that it would be difficult or impossible to maintain such a
position long, and that his departure from the city would probably be
followed by an outbreak. He warned her that it was very imprudent for him
to leave Antwerp at that particular juncture. Nevertheless, the meeting
of the Fleece-knights seemed, in Margaret's opinion, imperatively to
require his presence in Brussels. She insisted by repeated letters that
he should leave Antwerp immediately.
Upon the 18th August, the great and time-honored ceremony of the Ommegang
occurred. Accordingly, the great procession, the principal object of
which was to conduct around the city a colossal image of the Virgin,
issued as usual from the door of the cathedral. The image, bedizened and
effulgent, was borne aloft upon the shoulders of her adorers, followed by
the guilds, the military associations, the rhetoricians, the religious
sodalities, all in glittering costume, bearing blazoned banners, and
marching triumphantly through the streets with sound of trumpet and beat
of drum. The pageant, solemn but noisy, was exactly such a show as was
most fitted at that moment to irritate Protestant minds and to lead to
mischief. No violent explosion of ill-feeling, however, took place. The
procession was followed by a rabble rout of scoffers, but they confined
themselves to words and insulting gestures. The image was incessantly
saluted, as she was borne along--the streets, with sneers, imprecations,
and the rudest, ribaldry. "Mayken! Mayken!" (little Mary) "your hour is
come. 'Tis your last promenade. The city is tired of you." Such were the
greetings which the representative of the Holy Virgin received from men
grown weary of antiquated mummery. A few missiles were thrown
occasionally at the procession as it passed through the city, but no
damage was inflicted. When the image was at last restored to its place,
and the pageant brought to a somewhat hurried conclusion, there seemed
cause for congratulation that no tumult had occurred.
On the following morning there was a large crowd collected in front of
the cathedral. The image, instead of standing in the centre of the
church, where, upon all former occasions, it had been accustomed during
the week succeeding the ceremony to receive congratulatory, visits, was
now ignominiously placed behind an iron railing within the choir. It had
been deemed imprudent to leave it exposed to sacrilegious hands. The
precaution excited derision. Many vagabonds of dangerous appearance, many
idle apprentices and ragged urchins were hanging for a long time about
the imprisoned image, peeping through the railings, and indulging in many
a brutal jest. "Mayken! Mayken!" they cried; "art thou terrified so soon?
Hast flown to thy nest so early? Dost think thyself beyond the reach of
mischief? Beware, Mayken! thine hour is fast approaching!" Others
thronged around the balustrade, shouting "Vivent les gueux!" and hoarsely
commanding the image to join in the beggars' cry. Then, leaving the spot,
the mob roamed idly about the magnificent church, sneering at the idols,
execrating the gorgeous ornaments, scoffing at crucifix and altar.
Presently one of the rabble, a ragged fellow of mechanical aspect, in a
tattered black doublet and an old straw hat, ascended the pulpit. Opening
a sacred volume which he found there, he began to deliver an
extemporaneous and coarse caricature of a monkish sermon. Some of the
bystanders applauded, some cried shame, some shouted "long live the
beggars!" some threw sticks and rubbish at the mountebank, some caught
him by the legs and strove to pull him from the place. He, on the other
hand, manfully maintained his ground, hurling back every missile,
struggling with his assailants, and continuing the while to pour forth a
malignant and obscene discourse. At last a young sailor, warm in the
Catholic Faith, and impulsive as mariners are prone to be, ascended the
pulpit from behind, sprang upon the mechanic, and flung him headlong down
the steps. The preacher grappled with his enemy as he fell, and both came
rolling to the ground. Neither was much injured, but a tumult ensued. A
pistol-shot was fired, and the sailor wounded in the arm. Daggers were
drawn, cudgels brandished, the bystanders taking part generally against
the sailor, while those who protected him were somewhat bruised and
belabored before they could convey him out of the church. Nothing more,
however, transpired that day, and the keepers of the cathedral were
enabled to expel the crowd and to close the doors for the night.
Information of this tumult was brought to the senate, then assembled in
the Hotel de Ville. That body was thrown into a state of great
perturbation. In losing the Prince of Orange, they seemed to have lost
their own brains, and the first measure which they took was to despatch a
messenger to implore his return. In the mean time, it was necessary that
they should do something for themselves. It was evident that a storm was
brewing. The pest which was sweeping so rapidly through the provinces
would soon be among them. Symptoms of the dreaded visitation were already
but too manifest. What precaution should: they take? Should they issue a
proclamation? Such documents had been too common of late, and had lost
their virtue. It was the time not to assert but to exercise authority.
Should they summon the ward-masters, and order the instant arming and
mustering of their respective companies? Should they assemble the
captains of the Military associations? Nothing better could have been
desired than such measures in cases of invasion or of ordinary tumult,
but who should say how deeply the poison had sunk into the body politic;
who should say with how much or how little alacrity the burgher militia
would obey the mandates of the magistracy? It would be better to issue no
proclamation unless they could enforce its provisions; it would be better
not to call out the citizen soldiery unless they were likely to prove
obedient. Should mercenary troops at this late hour be sent for? Would
not their appearance at this crisis rather inflame the rage than
intimidate the insolence of the sectaries? Never were magistrates in
greater perplexity. They knew not what course was likely to prove the
safest, and in their anxiety to do nothing wrong, the senators did
nothing at all. After a long and anxious consultation, the honest
burgomaster and his associates all went home to their beds, hoping that
the threatening flame of civil tumult would die out of itself, or perhaps
that their dreams would supply them with that wisdom which seemed denied
to their waking hours.
In the morning, as it was known that no precaution had been taken, the
audacity of the Reformers was naturally increased. Within the cathedral a
great crowd was at an early hour collected, whose savage looks and ragged
appearance denoted that the day and night were not likely to pass away so
peacefully as the last. The same taunts and imprecations were hurled at
the image of the Virgin; the same howling of the beggars' cry resounded
through the lofty arches. For a few hours, no act of violence was
committed, but the crowd increased. A few trifles, drifting, as usual,
before the event, seemed to indicate the approaching convulsion. A very
paltry old woman excited the image-breaking of Antwerp. She had for years
been accustomed to sit before the door of the cathedral with wax-tapers
and wafers, earning scanty subsistence from the profits of her meagre
trade, and by the small coins which she sometimes received in charity.
Some of the rabble began to chaffer with this ancient hucksteress. They
scoffed at her consecrated wares; they bandied with her ribald jests, of
which her public position had furnished her with a supply; they assured
her that the hour had come when her idolatrous traffic was to be forever
terminated, when she and her patroness, Mary, were to be given over to
destruction together. The old woman, enraged, answered threat with
threat, and gibe with gibe. Passing from words to deeds, she began to
catch from the ground every offensive missile or weapon which she could
find, and to lay about her in all directions. Her tormentors defended
themselves as they could. Having destroyed her whole stock-in-trade, they
provoked others to appear in her defence. The passers-by thronged to the
scene; the cathedral was soon filled to overflowing; a furious tumult was
already in progress.
Many persons fled in alarm to the town-house, carrying information of
this outbreak to the magistrates. John Van Immerzeel, Margrava of
Antwerp, was then holding communication with the senate, and awaiting the
arrival of the ward-masters, whom it had at last been thought expedient
to summon. Upon intelligence of this riot, which the militia, if
previously mustered, might have prevented, the senate determined to
proceed to the cathedral in a body, with the hope of quelling the mob by
the dignity of their presence. The margrave, who was the high executive
officer of the little commonwealth, marched down to the cathedral
accordingly, attended by the two burgomasters and all the senators. At
first their authority, solicitations, and personal influence, produced a
good effect. Some of those outside consented to retire, and the tumult
partially subsided within. As night, however, was fast approaching, many
of the mob insisted upon remaining for evening mass. They were informed
that there would be none that night, and that for once the people could
certainly dispense with their vespers.
Several persons now manifesting an intention of leaving the cathedral, it
was suggested to the senators that if, they should lead the way, the
populace would follow in their train, and so disperse to their homes. The
excellent magistrates took the advice, not caring, perhaps, to fulfil any
longer the dangerous but not dignified functions of police officers.
Before departing, they adopted the precaution of closing all the doors of
the church, leaving a single one open, that the rabble still remaining
might have an opportunity to depart. It seemed not to occur to the
senators that the same gate would as conveniently afford an entrance for
those without as an egress for those within. That unlooked-for event
happened, however. No sooner had the magistrates retired than the rabble
burst through the single door which had been left open, overpowered the
margrave, who, with a few attendants, had remained behind, vainly
endeavoring by threats and exhortations to appease the tumult, drove him
ignominiously from the church, and threw all the other portals wide open.
Then the populace flowed in like an angry sea. The whole of the cathedral
was at the mercy of the rioters, who were evidently bent on mischief. The
wardens and treasurers of the church, after a vain attempt to secure a
few of its most precious possessions, retired. They carried the news to
the senators, who, accompanied by a few halberdmen, again ventured to
approach the spot. It was but for a moment, however, for, appalled by the
furious sounds which came from within the church, as if subterranean and
invisible forces were preparing a catastrophe which no human power could
withstand, the magistrates fled precipitately from the scene. Fearing
that the next attack would be upon the town-house, they hastened to
concentrate at that point their available forces, and left the stately
cathedral to its fate.
And now, as the shadows of night were deepening the perpetual twilight of
the church, the work of destruction commenced. Instead of evening mass
rose the fierce music of a psalm, yelled by a thousand angry voices. It
seemed the preconcerted signal for a general attack. A band of marauders
flew upon the image of the Virgin, dragged it forth from its receptacle,
plunged daggers into its inanimate body, tore off its jewelled and
embroidered garments, broke the whole figure into a thousand pieces, and
scattered the fragments along the floor. A wild shout succeeded, and then
the work which seemed delegated to a comparatively small number of the
assembled crowd, went on with incredible celerity. Some were armed with
axes, some with bludgeons, some with sledge-hammers; others brought
ladders, pulleys, ropes, and levers. Every statue was hurled from its
niche, every picture torn from the wall, every wonderfully-painted window
shivered to atoms, every ancient monument shattered, every sculptured
decoration, however inaccessible in appearance, hurled to the ground.
Indefatigably, audaciously,--endowed, as it seemed, with preternatural
strength and nimbleness, these furious iconoclasts clambered up the dizzy
heights, shrieking and chattering like malignant apes, as they tore off
in triumph the slowly-matured fruit of centuries. In a space of time
wonderfully brief, they had accomplished their task.
A colossal and magnificent group of the Saviour crucified between two
thieves adorned the principal altar. The statue of Christ was wrenched
from its place with ropes and pulleys, while the malefactors, with bitter
and blasphemous irony, were left on high, the only representatives of the
marble crowd which had been destroyed. A very beautiful piece of
architecture decorated the choir,--the "repository," as it was called, in
which the body of Christ was figuratively enshrined. This much-admired
work rested upon a single column, but rose, arch upon arch, pillar upon
pillar, to the height of three hundred feet, till quite lost in the vault
above. "It was now shattered into a million pieces." The statues, images,
pictures, ornaments, as they lay upon the ground, were broken with
sledge-hammers, hewn with axes, trampled, torn; and beaten into shreds. A
troop of harlots, snatching waxen tapers from the altars, stood around
the destroyers and lighted them at their work. Nothing escaped their
omnivorous rage. They desecrated seventy chapels, forced open all the
chests of treasure, covered their own squalid attire with the gorgeous
robes of the ecclesiastics, broke the sacred bread, poured out the
sacramental wine into golden chalices, quaffing huge draughts to the
beggars' health; burned all the splendid missals and manuscripts, and
smeared their shoes with the sacred oil, with which kings and prelates
had been anointed. It seemed that each of these malicious creatures must
have been endowed with the strength of a hundred giants. How else, in the
few brief hours of a midsummer night, could such a monstrous desecration
have been accomplished by a troop which, according to all accounts, was
not more than one hundred in number. There was a multitude of spectators,
as upon all such occasions, but the actual spoilers were very few.
The noblest and richest temple of the Netherlands was a wreck, but the
fury of the spoilers was excited, not appeased. Each seizing a burning
torch, the whole herd rushed from the cathedral, and swept howling
through the streets. "Long live the beggars!" resounded through the
sultry midnight air, as the ravenous pack flew to and fro, smiting every
image of the Virgin, every crucifix, every sculptured saint, every
Catholic symbol which they met with upon their path. All night long, they
roamed from one sacred edifice to another, thoroughly destroying as they
went. Before morning they had sacked thirty churches within the city
walls. They entered the monasteries, burned their invaluable libraries,
destroyed their altars, statues, pictures, and descending into the
cellars, broached every cask which they found there, pouring out in one
great flood all the ancient wine and ale with which those holy men had
been wont to solace their retirement from generation to generation. They
invaded the nunneries, whence the occupants, panic-stricken, fled for
refuge to the houses of their friends and kindred. The streets were
filled with monks and nuns, running this way and that, shrieking and
fluttering, to escape the claws of these fiendish Calvinists. The terror
was imaginary, for not the least remarkable feature in these transactions
was, that neither insult nor injury was offered to man or woman, and that
not a farthing's value of the immense amount of property destroyed, was
appropriated. It was a war not against the living, but against graven
images, nor was the sentiment which prompted the onslaught in the least
commingled with a desire of plunder. The principal citizens of Antwerp,
expecting every instant that the storm would be diverted from the
ecclesiastical edifices to private dwellings, and that robbery, rape, and
murder would follow sacrilege, remained all night expecting the attack,
and prepared to defend their hearths, even if the altars were profaned.
The precaution was needless. It was asserted by the Catholics that the
confederates and other opulent Protestants had organized this company of
profligates for the meagre pittance of ten stivers day. On the other
hand, it was believed by many that the Catholics had themselves plotted
the whole outrage in order to bring odium upon the Reformers. Both
statements were equally unfounded. The task was most thoroughly
performed, but it was prompted: by a furious fanaticism, not by baser
motives.
Two days and nights longer the havoc raged unchecked through all the
churches of Antwerp and the neighboring villages. Hardly a statue or
picture escaped destruction. Fortunately, the illustrious artist, whose
labors were destined in the next generation to enrich and ennoble the
city, Rubens, most profound of colorists, most dramatic--of artists;
whose profuse tropical genius seemed to flower the more luxuriantly, as
if the destruction wrought by brutal hands were to be compensated by the
creative energy of one, divine spirit, had not yet been born. Of the
treasures which existed the destruction was complete. Yet the rage was
directed exclusively against stocks and stones. Not a man was wounded nor
a woman outraged. Prisoners, indeed, who had been languishing hopelessly
in dungeons were liberated. A monk, who had been in the prison of the
Barefoot Monastery, for twelve years, recovered his freedom. Art was
trampled in the dust, but humanity deplored no victims.
These leading features characterized the movement every where. The
process was simultaneous and almost universal. It was difficult to say
where it began and where it ended. A few days in the midst of August
sufficed for the whole work. The number of churches desecrated has never
been counted. In the single province of Flanders, four hundred were
sacked. In Limburg, Luxemburg, and Namur, there was no image-breaking. In
Mechlin, seventy or eighty persons accomplished the work thoroughly, in
the very teeth of the grand council, and of an astonished magistracy.
In Tournay, a city distinguished for its ecclesiastical splendor, the
reform had been making great progress during the summer. At the same time
the hatred between the two religions had been growing more and more
intense. Trifles and serious matters alike fed the mutual animosity.
A tremendous outbreak had been nearly occasioned by an insignificant
incident. A Jesuit of some notoriety had been preaching a glowing
discourse in the pulpit of Notre Dane. He earnestly avowed his wish that
he were good enough to die for all his hearers. He proved to
demonstration that no man should shrink from torture or martyrdom in
order to sustain the ancient faith. As he was thus expatiating, his
fervid discourse was suddenly interrupted by three sharp, sudden blows,
of a very peculiar character, struck upon the great portal of the Church.
The priest, forgetting his love for martyrdom, turned pale and dropped
under the pulpit. Hurrying down the steps, he took refuge in the vestry,
locking and barring the door. The congregation shared in his panic: "The
beggars are coming," was the general cry. There was a horrible tumult,
which extended through the city as the congregation poured precipitately
out of the Cathedral, to escape a band of destroying and furious
Calvinists. Yet when the shock had a little subsided, it was discovered
that a small urchin was the cause of the whole tumult. Having been
bathing in the Scheldt, he had returned by way of the church with a
couple of bladders under his arm. He had struck these against the door of
the Cathedral, partly to dry them, partly from a love of mischief. Thus a
great uproar, in the course of which it had been feared that Toumay was
to be sacked and drenched in blood, had been caused by a little wanton
boy who had been swimming on bladders.
This comedy preceded by a few days only the actual disaster. On the 22d
of August the news reached Tournay that the churches in Antwerp, Ghent,
and many other places, had been sacked. There was an instantaneous
movement towards imitating the example on the same evening. Pasquier de
la Barre, procureur-general of the city, succeeded by much entreaty in
tranquillizing the people for the night. The "guard of terror" was set,
and hopes were entertained that the storm might blow over. The
expectation, was vain. At daybreak next day, the mob swept upon the
churches and stripped them to the very walls. Pictures, statues; organs,
ornaments, chalices of silver and gold, reliquaries, albs, chasubles,
copes, ciboriea, crosses, chandeliers, lamps; censers, all of richest
material, glittering with pearls, rubies, and other precious stones, were
scattered in heaps of ruin upon the ground.
As the Spoilers burrowed among the ancient tombs, they performed, in one
or two instances, acts of startling posthumous justice. The embalmed body
of Duke Adolphus of Gueldres, last of the Egmonts, who had reigned in
that province, was dragged from its sepulchre and recognized. Although it
had been there for ninety years, it was as uncorrupted, "Owing to the
excellent spices which had preserved it from decay," as upon the day of
burial. Thrown upon the marble floor of the church, it lay several days
exposed to the execrations of the multitude. The Duke had committed a
crime against his father, in consequence of which the province which had
been ruled by native races, had passed under the dominion of Charles the
Bold. Weary of waiting for the old Duke's inheritance, he had risen
against him in open rebellion. Dragging him from his bed at midnight in
the depth of winter, he had compelled the old man, with no covering but
his night gear, to walk with naked feet twenty-five miles over ice and
snow from Grave to Buren, while he himself performed the same journey in
his company on horseback. He had then thrown him into a dungeon beneath
the tower of Buren castle, and kept him a close prisoner for six months.
[Memoires de Philippe de Comines (Loud. et Paris, 1747), liv. iv.
194-196. In the Royal Gallery at Berlin is a startling picture by
Rembrandt, in which the old Duke is represented looking out of the
bars of his dungeon at his son, who is threatening him with uplifted
hand and savage face. No subject could be imagined better adapted
to the gloomy and sarcastic genius of that painter.]
At last, the Duke of Burgundy summoned the two before his council, and
proposed that Adolphus should allow his father 6000 florins annually,
with the title of Duke till his death. "He told us," said Comines, "that
he would sooner throw the old man head-foremost down a well and jump in
himself afterwards. His father had been Duke forty-four years, and it was
time for him to retire." Adolphus being thus intractable, had been kept
in prison till after the death of Charles the Bold. To the memorable
insurrection of Ghent, in the time of the Lady Mary, he owed his liberty.
The insurgent citizens took him from prison, and caused him to lead them
in their foray against Tournay. Beneath the walls of that city he was
slain, and buried under its cathedral. And now as if his offence had not
been sufficiently atoned for by the loss of his ancestral honors, his
captivity, and his death, the earth, after the lapse of nearly a century,
had cast him forth from her bosom. There, once more beneath the sunlight,
amid a ribald crew of a later generation which had still preserved the
memory of his sin, lay the body of the more than parricide, whom
"excellent spices" had thus preserved from corruption, only to be the
mark of scorn and demoniac laughter.
A large assemblage of rioters, growing in numbers as they advanced, swept
over the province of Tournay, after accomplishing the sack of the city
churches. Armed with halberds, hammers, and pitchforks, they carried on
the war, day after day, against the images. At the convent of
Marchiennes, considered by contemporaries the most beautiful abbey in all
the Netherlands, they halted to sing the ten commandments in Marot's
verse. Hardly had the vast chorus finished the precept against graven
images;
Taiiler ne to feras imaige
De quelque chose que ce soit,
Sy bonneur luy fail on hommaige,
Bon Dieu jalousie en recoit,
when the whole mob seemed seized with sudden madness. Without waiting to
complete the Psalm, they fastened upon the company of marble martyrs, as
if they had possessed sensibility to feel the blows inflicted. In an hour
they had laid the whole in ruins.
Having accomplished this deed, they swept on towards Anchin. Here,
however, they were confronted by the Seigneur de la Tour, who, at the
head of a small company of peasants, attacked the marauders and gained a
complete victory. Five or six hundred of them were slain, others were
drowned in the river and adjacent swamps, the rest were dispersed. It was
thus proved that a little more spirit upon the part of the orderly
portion of the inhabitants, might have brought about a different result
than the universal image-breaking.
In Valenciennes, "the tragedy," as an eye-witness calls it, was performed
upon Saint Bartholomew's day. It was, however, only a tragedy of statues.
Hardly as many senseless stones were victims as there were to be living
Huguenots sacrificed in a single city upon a Bartholomew which was fast
approaching. In the Valenciennes massacre, not a human being was injured.
Such in general outline and in certain individual details, was the
celebrated iconomachy of the Netherlands. The movement was a sudden
explosion of popular revenge against the symbols of that Church from
which the Reformers had been enduring such terrible persecution. It was
also an expression of the general sympathy for the doctrines which had
taken possession of the national heart. It was the depravation of that
instinct which had in the beginning of the summer drawn Calvinists and
Lutherans forth in armed bodies, twenty thousand strong, to worship God
in the open fields. The difference between the two phenomena was, that
the field-preaching was a crime committed by the whole mass of the
Reformers; men, women, and children confronting the penalties of death,
by a general determination, while the imagebreaking was the act of a
small portion of the populace. A hundred persons belonging to the lowest
order of society sufficed for the desecration of the Antwerp churches. It
was, said Orange, "a mere handful of rabble" who did the deed. Sir
Richard Clough saw ten or twelve persons entirely sack church after
church, while ten thousand spectators looked on, indifferent or
horror-struck. The bands of iconoclasts were of the lowest character, and
few in number. Perhaps the largest assemblage was that which ravaged the
province of Tournay, but this was so weak as to be entirely routed by a
small and determined force. The duty of repression devolved upon both
Catholics and Protestants. Neither party stirred. All seemed overcome
with special wonder as the tempest swept over the land.
The ministers of the Reformed religion, and the chiefs of the liberal
party, all denounced the image-breaking. Francis Junius bitterly
regretted such excesses. Ambrose Wille, pure of all participation in the
crime, stood up before ten thousand Reformers at Tournay--even while the
storm was raging in the neighboring cities, and, when many voices around
him were hoarsely commanding similar depravities to rebuke the outrages
by which a sacred cause was disgraced. The Prince of Orange, in his
private letters, deplored the riots, and stigmatized the perpetrators.
Even Brederode, while, as Suzerain of his city of Viane, he ordered the
images there to be quietly taken from the churches, characterized this
popular insurrection as insensate and flagitious. Many of the leading
confederates not only were offended with the proceedings, but, in their
eagerness to chastise the iconoclasts and to escape from a league of
which they were weary, began to take severe measures against the
Ministers and Reformers, of whom they had constituted themselves in April
the especial protectors.
The next remarkable characteristic of these tumults was the almost entire
abstinence of the rioters from personal outrage and from pillage. The
testimony of a very bitter, but honest Catholic at Valenciennes, is
remarkable upon this point. "Certain chroniclers," said he, "have greatly
mistaken the character of this image-breaking. It has been said that the
Calvinists killed a hundred priests in this city, cutting some of them
into pieces, and burning others over a slow fire. I remember very well
every thing which happened upon that abominable day, and I can affirm
that not a single priest was injured. The Huguenots took good care not to
injure in any way the living images." This was the case every where.
Catholic and Protestant writers agree that no deeds of violence were
committed against man or woman.
It would be also very easy to accumulate a vast weight of testimony as to
their forbearance from robbery. They destroyed for destruction's sake,
not for purposes of plunder.
Although belonging to the lowest classes of society, they left heaps of
jewellery, of gold and silver plate, of costly embroidery, lying unheeded
upon the ground. They felt instinctively that a great passion would be
contaminated by admixture with paltry motives. In Flanders a company of
rioters hanged one of their own number for stealing articles to the value
of five Shillings. In Valenciennes the iconoclasts were offered large
sums if they would refrain from desecrating the churches of that city,
but they rejected the proposal with disdain. The honest Catholic burgher
who recorded the fact, observed that he did so because of the many
misrepresentations on the subject, not because he wished to flatter
heresy and rebellion.
At Tournay, the greatest scrupulousness was observed upon this point. The
floor of the cathedral was strewn with "pearls and precious stones, with
chalices and reliquaries of silver and gold;" but the ministers of the
reformed religion, in company with the magistrates, came to the spot, and
found no difficulty, although utterly without power to prevent the storm,
in taking quiet possession of the wreck. "We had every thing of value,"
says Procureur-General De la Barre, "carefully inventoried, weighed,
locked in chests, and placed under a strict guard in the prison of the
Halle, to which one set of keys were given to the ministers, and another
to the magistrates." Who will dare to censure in very severe language
this havoc among stocks and stones in a land where so many living men and
women, of more value than many statues, had been slaughtered by the
inquisition, and where Alva's "Blood Tribunal" was so soon to eclipse
even that terrible institution in the number of its victims and the
amount of its confiscations?
Yet the effect of the riots was destined to be most disastrous for a time
to the reforming party. It furnished plausible excuses for many lukewarm
friends of their cause to withdraw from all connection with it. Egmont
denounced the proceedings as highly flagitious, and busied himself with
punishing the criminals in Flanders. The Regent was beside herself with
indignation and terror. Philip, when he heard the news, fell into a
paroxysm of frenzy. "It shall cost them dear!" he cried, as he tore his
beard for rage; "it shall cost them dear! I swear it by the soul of my
father!" The Reformation in the Netherlands, by the fury of these
fanatics, was thus made apparently to abandon the high ground upon which
it had stood in the early summer. The sublime spectacle of the
multitudinous field-preaching was sullied by the excesses of the
image-breaking. The religious war, before imminent, became inevitable.
Nevertheless, the first effect of the tumults was a temporary advantage
to the Reformers. A great concession was extorted from the fears of the
Duchess Regent, who was certainly placed in a terrible position. Her
conduct was not heroic, although she might be forgiven for trepidation.
Her treachery, however, under these trying circumstances was less venial.
At three o'clock in the morning of the 22nd of August, Orange, Egmont,
Horn, Hoogatraaten, Mansfeld, and others were summoned to the palace.
They found her already equipped for flight, surrounded by her
waiting-women, chamberlains and lackeys, while the mules and hackneys
stood harnessed in the court-yard, and her body-guard were prepared to
mount at a moment's notice. She announced her intention of retreating at
once to Mons, in which city, owing to Aerschot's care, she hoped to find
refuge against the fury of the rebellion then sweeping the country. Her
alarm was almost beyond control. She was certain that the storm was ready
to burst upon Brussels, and that every Catholic was about to be massacred
before her eyes. Aremberg, Berlaymont, and Noircarmes were with the
Duchess when the other seigniors arrived.
A part of the Duke of Aerschot's company had been ordered out to escort
the projected flight to Mons. Orange, Horn, Egmont, and Hoogstraaten
implored her to desist from her fatal resolution. They represented that
such a retreat before a mob would be the very means of ruining the
country. They denounced all persons who had counselled the scheme, as
enemies of his Majesty and herself. They protested their readiness to die
at her feet in her defence, but besought her not to abandon the post of
duty in the hour of peril. While they were thus anxiously debating,
Viglius entered the chamber. With tears streaming down her cheeks,
Margaret turned to the aged President, uttering fierce reproaches and
desponding lamentations. Viglius brought the news that the citizens had
taken possession of the gates, and were resolved not to permit her
departure from the city. He reminded her, according to the indispensable
practice of all wise counsellors, that he had been constantly predicting
this result. He, however, failed in administering much consolation, or in
suggesting any remedy. He was, in truth, in as great a panic as herself,
and it was, according to the statement of the Duchess, mainly in order to
save the President from threatened danger, that she eventually resolved
to make concessions. "Viglius," wrote Margaret to Philip, "is so much
afraid of being cut to pieces, that his timidity has become incredible."
Upon the warm assurance of Count Horn, that he would enable her to escape
from the city, should it become necessary, or would perish in the
attempt, a promise in which he was seconded by the rest of the seigniors,
she consented to remain for the day in her palace.--Mansfeld was
appointed captain-general of the city; Egmont, Horn, Orange, and the
others agreed to serve under his orders, and all went down together to
the townhouse. The magistrates were summoned, a general meeting of the
citizens was convened, and the announcement made of Mansfeld's
appointment, together with an earnest appeal to all honest men to support
the Government. The appeal was answered by a shout of unanimous
approbation, an enthusiastic promise to live or die with the Regent, and
the expression of a resolution to permit neither reformed preaching nor
image-breaking within the city.
Nevertheless, at seven o'clock in the evening, the Duchess again sent for
the seigniors. She informed them that she had received fresh and certain
information, that the churches were to be sacked that very night; that
Viglius, Berlaymont, and Aremberg were to be killed, and that herself and
Egmont were to be taken prisoners. She repeated many times that she had
been ill-advised, expressed bitter regret at having deferred her flight
from the city, and called upon those who had obstructed her plan, now to
fulfil their promises. Turning fiercely upon Count Horn, she uttered a
volley of reproaches upon his share in the transaction. "You are the
cause," said she, "that I am now in this position. Why do you not redeem
your pledge and enable me to leave the place at once." Horn replied that
he was ready to do so if she were resolved to stay no longer. He would at
the instant cut his way through the guard at the Caudenberg gate, and
bring her out in safety, or die in the effort. At the same time he
assured her that he gave no faith to the idle reports flying about the
city, reminded her that nobles, magistrates, and citizens were united in
her defence, and in brief used the same arguments which had before been
used to pacify her alarm. The nobles were again successful in enforcing
their counsels, the Duchess was spared the ignominy and the disaster of a
retreat before an insurrection which was only directed against statues,
and the ecclesiastical treasures of Brussels were saved from sacrilege.
On the 25th August came the crowning act of what the Reformers considered
their most complete triumph, and the Regent her deepest degradation. It
was found necessary under the alarming aspect of affairs, that liberty of
worship, in places where it had been already established, should be
accorded to the new religion. Articles of agreement to this effect were
accordingly drawn up and exchanged between the Government and Lewis of
Nassau, attended by fifteen others of the confederacy. A corresponding
pledge was signed by them, that so long as the Regent was true to her
engagement, they would consider their previously existing league
annulled, and would assist cordially in every endeavor to maintain
tranquillity and support the authority of his Majesty. The important
Accord was then duly signed by the Duchess. It declared that the
inquisition was abolished, that his Majesty would soon issue a new
general edict, expressly and unequivocally protecting the nobles against
all evil consequences from past transactions, that they were to be
employed in the royal service, and that public preaching according to the
forms of the new religion was to be practised in places where it had
already taken place. Letters general were immediately despatched to the
senates of all the cities, proclaiming these articles of agreement and
ordering their execution. Thus for a fleeting moment there was a thrill
of joy throughout the Netherlands. The inquisition was thought forever
abolished, the era of religious reformation arrived.
ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
All denounced the image-breaking
Anxiety to do nothing wrong, the senators did nothing at all
Before morning they had sacked thirty churches
Bigotry which was the prevailing characteristic of the age
Enriched generation after generation by wealthy penitence
Fifty thousand persons in the provinces (put to death)
Furious fanaticism
Lutheran princes of Germany, detested the doctrines of Geneva
Monasteries, burned their invaluable libraries
No qualities whatever but birth and audacity to recommend him
Notre Dame at Antwerp
Persons who discussed religious matters were to be put to death
Premature zeal was prejudicial to the cause
Purchased absolution for crime and smoothed a pathway to heaven
Rearing gorgeous temples where paupers are to kneel
Schism which existed in the general Reformed Church
Storm by which all these treasures were destroyed (in 7 days)
The noblest and richest temple of the Netherlands was a wreck
Tyrannical spirit of Calvinism
Would not help to burn fifty or sixty thousand Netherlanders
ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS THE DUTCH REPUBLIC, 1555-1566, Complete:
A pleasantry called voluntary contributions or benevolences
A country disinherited by nature of its rights
Absolution for incest was afforded at thirty-six livres
Achieved the greatness to which they had not been born
Advancing age diminished his tendency to other carnal pleasures
Affecting to discredit them
All offices were sold to the highest bidder
All denounced the image-breaking
All his disciples and converts are to be punished with death
All reading of the scriptures (forbidden)
Altercation between Luther and Erasmus, upon predestination
An hereditary papacy, a perpetual pope-emperor
An inspiring and delightful recreation (auto-da-fe)
Announced his approaching marriage with the Virgin Mary
Annual harvest of iniquity by which his revenue was increased
Anxiety to do nothing wrong, the senators did nothing at all
Arrested on suspicion, tortured till confession
As ready as papists, with age, fagot, and excommunication
Attacking the authority of the pope
Attempting to swim in two waters
Batavian legion was the imperial body guard
Beating the Netherlanders into Christianity
Before morning they had sacked thirty churches
Bigotry which was the prevailing characteristic of the age
Bishop is a consecrated pirate
Bold reformer had only a new dogma in place of the old ones
Brethren, parents, and children, having wives in common
Burned alive if they objected to transubstantiation
Burned, strangled, beheaded, or buried alive (100,000)
Charles the Fifth autocrat of half the world
Condemning all heretics to death
Consign to the flames all prisoners whatever (Papal letter)
Courage of despair inflamed the French
Craft meaning, simply, strength
Criminal whose guilt had been established by the hot iron
Criminals buying Paradise for money
Crusades made great improvement in the condition of the serfs
Decrees for burning, strangling, and burying alive
Democratic instincts of the ancient German savages
Denies the utility of prayers for the dead
Despot by birth and inclination (Charles V.)
Difference between liberties and liberty
Dispute between Luther and Zwingli concerning the real presence
Dissimulation and delay
Divine right
Drank of the water in which, he had washed
Endure every hardship but hunger
English Puritans
Enormous wealth (of the Church) which engendered the hatred
Enriched generation after generation by wealthy penitence
Erasmus encourages the bold friar
Erasmus of Rotterdam
Even for the rape of God's mother, if that were possible
Excited with the appearance of a gem of true philosophy
Executions of Huss and Jerome of Prague
Fable of divine right is invented to sanction the system
Felix Mants, the anabaptist, is drowned at Zurich
Few, even prelates were very dutiful to the pope
Fiction of apostolic authority to bind and loose
Fifty thousand persons in the provinces (put to death)
Fishermen and river raftsmen become ocean adventurers
For myself I am unworthy of the honor (of martyrdom)
For women to lament, for men to remember
Forbids all private assemblies for devotion
Force clerical--the power of clerks
Furious fanaticism
Gallant and ill-fated Lamoral Egmont
Gaul derided the Roman soldiers as a band of pigmies
German finds himself sober--he believes himself ill
Govern under the appearance of obeying
Great science of political equilibrium
Great Privilege, the Magna Charta of Holland
Guarantees of forgiveness for every imaginable sin
Habeas corpus
Halcyon days of ban, book and candle
He knew men, especially he knew their weaknesses
He did his best to be friends with all the world
Heresy was a plant of early growth in the Netherlands
His imagination may have assisted his memory in the task
History shows how feeble are barriers of paper
Holland, England, and America, are all links of one chain
I would carry the wood to burn my own son withal
In Holland, the clergy had neither influence nor seats
Informer, in case of conviction, should be entitled to one half
Inquisition of the Netherlands is much more pitiless
Inquisition was not a fit subject for a compromise
Insinuating suspicions when unable to furnish evidence
Invented such Christian formulas as these (a curse)
Inventing long speeches for historical characters
July 1st, two Augustine monks were burned at Brussels
King of Zion to be pinched to death with red-hot tongs
Labored under the disadvantage of never having existed
Learn to tremble as little at priestcraft as at swordcraft
Let us fool these poor creatures to their heart's content
Licences accorded by the crown to carry slaves to America
Little grievances would sometimes inflame more than vast
Long succession of so many illustrious obscure
Look through the cloud of dissimulation
Lutheran princes of Germany, detested the doctrines of Geneva
Made to swing to and fro over a slow fire
Maintaining the attitude of an injured but forgiving Christian
Man had only natural wrongs (No natural rights)
Many greedy priests, of lower rank, had turned shop-keepers
Monasteries, burned their invaluable libraries
More accustomed to do well than to speak well
No one can testify but a householder
No calumny was too senseless to be invented
No law but the law of the longest purse
No qualities whatever but birth and audacity to recommend him
Not of the stuff of which martyrs are made (Erasmus)
Notre Dame at Antwerp
Nowhere was the persecution of heretics more relentless
Obstinate, of both sexes, to be burned
Often much tyranny in democracy
One golden grain of wit into a sheet of infinite platitude
Orator was, however, delighted with his own performance
Others go to battle, says the historian, these go to war
Panegyrists of royal houses in the sixteenth century
Pardon for murder, if not by poison, was cheaper
Pardon for crimes already committed, or about to be committed
Paying their passage through, purgatory
Perpetually dropping small innuendos like pebbles
Persons who discussed religious matters were to be put to death
Petty passion for contemptible details
Philip, who did not often say a great deal in a few words
Planted the inquisition in the Netherlands
Poisoning, for example, was absolved for eleven ducats
Pope and emperor maintain both positions with equal logic
Power to read and write helped the clergy to much wealth
Premature zeal was prejudicial to the cause
Procrastination was always his first refuge
Promises which he knew to be binding only upon the weak
Purchased absolution for crime and smoothed a pathway to heaven
Rashness alternating with hesitation
Readiness to strike and bleed at any moment in her cause
Rearing gorgeous temples where paupers are to kneel
Repentant females to be buried alive
Repentant males to be executed with the sword
Revocable benefices or feuds
Ruinous honors
Sale of absolutions was the source of large fortunes to the priests
Same conjury over ignorant baron and cowardly hind
Scaffold was the sole refuge from the rack
Schism which existed in the general Reformed Church
Scoffing at the ceremonies and sacraments of the Church
Secret drowning was substituted for public burning
Sharpened the punishment for reading the scriptures in private
Slavery was both voluntary and compulsory
Soldier of the cross was free upon his return
Sonnets of Petrarch
Sovereignty was heaven-born, anointed of God
St. Peter's dome rising a little nearer to the clouds
St. Bartholomew was to sleep for seven years longer
Storm by which all these treasures were destroyed (in 7 days)
Tanchelyn
Taxation upon sin
Ten thousand two hundred and twenty individuals were burned
That vile and mischievous animal called the people
The noblest and richest temple of the Netherlands was a wreck
The Gaul was singularly unchaste
The vivifying becomes afterwards the dissolving principle
The bad Duke of Burgundy, Philip surnamed "the Good,"
The egg had been laid by Erasmus, hatched by Luther
These human victims, chained and burning at the stake
They had at last burned one more preacher alive
Thousands of burned heretics had not made a single convert
Thus Hand-werpen, hand-throwing, became Antwerp
To think it capable of error, is the most devilish heresy of all
To prefer poverty to the wealth attendant upon trade
Torquemada's administration (of the inquisition)
Tranquillity of despotism to the turbulence of freedom
Two witnesses sent him to the stake, one witness to the rack
Tyrannical spirit of Calvinism
Understood the art of managing men, particularly his superiors
Upon one day twenty-eight master cooks were dismissed
Villagers, or villeins
We believe our mothers to have been honest women
When the abbot has dice in his pocket, the convent will play
William of Nassau, Prince of Orange
Wiser simply to satisfy himself
Would not help to burn fifty or sixty thousand Netherlanders