The deeds of violence perpetrated by the iconoclasts were accompanied by such indignities as might express their contempt for the ancient faith. They snatched the wafer, says an eye-witness, from the altar, and put it into[{278}] the mouth of a parrot. Some huddled the images of the saints together, and set them on fire, or covered them with bits of armor, and, shouting "Vivent les Gueux!" tilted rudely against them. Some put on the vestments stolen from the churches, and ran about the streets with them in mockery. Some basted the books with butter, that they might burn the more briskly.[819] By the scholar, this last enormity will not be held light among their transgressions. It answered their purpose, to judge by the number of volumes that were consumed. Among the rest, the great library of Vicogne, one of the noblest collections in the Netherlands, perished in the flames kindled by these fanatics.[820]
The amount of injury inflicted during this dismal period it is not possible to estimate. Four hundred churches were sacked by the insurgents in Flanders alone.[821] The damage to the cathedral of Antwerp, including its precious contents, was said to amount to not less than four hundred thousand ducats![822] The loss occasioned by the plunder of gold and silver plate might be computed. The structures so cruelly defaced might be repaired by the skill of the architect. But who can estimate the irreparable loss occasioned by the destruction of manuscripts, statuary, and paintings? It is a melancholy fact, that the earliest efforts of the Reformers were everywhere directed against those monuments of genius which had been created and cherished by the generous patronage of Catholicism. But if the first step of the Reformation was on the ruins of art, it cannot be denied that a compensation has been found in the good which it has done by breaking the fetters of the intellect, and opening a free range in those domains of science to which all access had been hitherto denied.
The wide extent of the devastation was not more remarkable than the time in which it was accomplished. The whole work occupied less than a fortnight. It seemed as if the destroying angel had passed over the land, and at a blow had consigned its noblest edifices to ruin! The method and discipline, if I may so say, in the movements of the iconoclasts, were as extraordinary as their celerity. They would seem to have been directed by some other hands than those which met the vulgar eye. The quantity of gold and silver plate purloined from the churches and convents was immense. Though doubtless sometimes appropriated by individuals, it seems not unfrequently to have been gathered in a heap, and delivered to the minister, who, either of himself, or by direction of the consistory, caused it to be melted down, and distributed among the most needy of the sectaries.[823] We may sympathize with the indignation of a Catholic writer of the time, who exclaims, that in this way the poor churchmen were made to pay for the scourges with which they had been beaten.[824]
ALARM AT BRUSSELS.
The tidings of the outbreak fell heavily on the ears of the court of Brussels,[{279}] where the regent, notwithstanding her prediction of the event, was not any the better prepared for it. She at once called her counsellors together and demanded their aid in defending the religion of the country against its enemies. But the prince of Orange and his friends discouraged a resort to violent measures, as little likely to prevail in the present temper of the people. "First," said Egmont, "let us provide for the security of the state. It will be time enough then to think of religion." "No," said Margaret, warmly; "the service of God demands our first care; for the ruin of religion would be a greater evil than the loss of the country."[825] "Those who have anything to lose in it," replied the count, somewhat coolly, "will probably be of a different opinion,"[826]—an answer that greatly displeased the duchess.
Rumors now came thick on one another of the outrages committed by the image-breakers. Fears were entertained that their next move would be on the capital itself. Hitherto the presence of the regent had preserved Brussels, notwithstanding some transient demonstrations among the people, from the spirit of reform which had convulsed the rest of the country. No public meetings had been held either in the city or the suburbs; for Margaret had declared she would hang up, not only the preacher, but all those who attended him.[827] The menace had its effect. Thus keeping aloof from the general movement of the time, the capital was looked on with an evil eye by the surrounding country; and reports were rife, that the iconoclasts were preparing to march in such force on the place, as should enable them to deal with it as they had done with Antwerp and the other cities of Brabant.
The question now arose as to the course to be pursued in the present exigency. The prince of Orange and his friends earnestly advised that Margaret should secure the aid of the confederates by the concessions they had so strenuously demanded; in the next place, that she should conciliate the Protestants by consenting to their religious meetings. To the former she made no objection. But the latter she peremptorily refused. "It would be the ruin of our holy religion," she said. It was in vain they urged, that two hundred thousand sectaries were in arms; that they were already in possession of the churches; that, if she persisted in her refusal, they would soon be in Brussels, and massacre every priest and Roman Catholic before her eyes![828] Notwithstanding this glowing picture of the horrors in store for her, Margaret remained inflexible. But her agitation was excessive: she felt herself alone in her extremity. The party of Granvelle she had long since abandoned. The party of Orange seemed now ready to abandon her. "I am pressed by enemies within and without," she wrote to Philip; "there is no one on whom I can rely for counsel or for aid."[829] Distrust and anxiety brought on a fever, and for several days and nights she lay tossing about, suffering equally from distress of body and anguish of spirit.[830][{280}]
Thus sorely perplexed, Margaret felt also the most serious apprehensions for her personal safety. With the slight means of defence at her command, Brussels seemed no longer a safe residence, and she finally came to the resolution to extricate herself from the danger and difficulties of her situation by a precipitate flight. After a brief consultation with Barlaimont, Arschot, and others of the party opposed to the prince of Orange, and hitherto little in her confidence, she determined to abandon the capital, and seek a refuge in Mons,—a strong town in Hainault, belonging to the duke of Arschot, which, from its sturdy attachment to the Romish faith, had little to fear from the fanatics.
Having completed her preparations with the greatest secrecy, on the day fixed for her flight Margaret called her council together to communicate her design. It met with the most decided opposition, not merely from the lords with whom she had hitherto acted, but from the president Viglius. They all united in endeavoring to turn her from a measure which would plainly intimate such a want of confidence on the part of the duchess as must dishonor them in the eyes of the world. The preparations for Margaret's flight had not been conducted so secretly but that some rumor of them had taken wind; and the magistrates of the city now waited on her in a body, and besought her not to leave them, defenceless as they were, to the mercy of their enemies.
The prince was heard to say, that, if the regent thus abandoned the government, it would be necessary to call the states-general together at once, to take measures for the protection of the country.[831] And Egmont declared that, if she fled to Mons, he would muster forty thousand men, and besiege Mons in person.[832] The threat was not a vain one, for no man in the country could have gathered such a force under his banner more easily than Egmont. The question seems to have been finally settled by the magistrates causing the gates of the town to be secured, and a strong guard placed over them, with orders to allow no passage either to the duchess or her followers.—Thus a prisoner in her own capital, Margaret conformed to necessity, and, with the best grace she could, consented to relinquish her scheme of departure.[833]