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^^^^ 

0.    M.    CI.AYES,    STATE    PRINTER. 


THE 


M  MITYRS  OF  SPAIN, 


Airo  THE 


LIBERATORS  OF  HOLLAND, 


THE  ! 

\ 


MARTYRS  OF  SPAIN 


AND   THE 


LIBERATORS  OF  HOLLAND. 


BY  THE   AUTHOR  OP 

"THE    SCHONBERG-COTTA   FAMILY." 


y^i^.   Ofu^^j^^jj^  -) 


NEW  YORK: 
ROBERT   CARTER  AND  BROTHERS, 

No.    530   BEOADWAT. 
1865. 


U  7  6 


EDWARD  O.  JENKTKS, 

^rtnttr  &  Stcrrntaper, 

No.  20  North  William  St. 


PR 


CONTENTS. 


THE  MARTYKS  OF  SPAIN. 

CHAPTEE  PAGE 

I. — A  Castilian  Holiday,  ....      9 

II. — Treasure  Trove, 25 

III. — Contraband  Wares,      .        .        .        .44 

IV. — Light  through  Leon  and  Castile,     .     59 

v.— The  First  Three,  .        .        .        .     7T 

VI. — The  Martyrs  of  Valladolid,      .         .     92 

VII. — The  Martyrs,  of  Seville,    ,        .        .120 


THE  LIBERATION  OF  HOLLAND. 

I. — The  New  World,  ....  145 

II.— The  New  May, 155 

III. — Old      Scenes      Renewed  —  Spanish 

Drama,  with  a  Flemish  Audience,  166 

.  182 
.  193 
.  206 
.  225 
.  236 
.  254 
.  263 


IV.— The  Cardinal's  Dismissal, 
V. — The  Gueux,     . 
VI. — The  Public  Preachings, 
VII. — William  the  Silent,    . 
VIII. — The  Iconoclasts,    . 
IX. — A  Lull,  .... 
X. — The  Storm,    . 


8326SS 


VI  CONTENTS. 

PART  SECOND. 

CHAPTER  TAGS 

I. — The  Journey, 389 

II. — The  Anabaptists  of  Friesland,  ,  .  301 
III. — The  Refuge  in  Holland,  .  .  .315 
IV. — The  Siege  of  Leyden,  ....  353 


PREFACE 


The  awakening  of  some  hearts  in  Spain,  in 
these  latter  days,  to  embrace  and  suffer  loss 
of  all  things  for  the  faith  which  inspired  Span- 
ish Martyrs  three  hundred  years  ago,  en- 
courages us  once  more  to  look  on  the  sad  but 
heroic  story  of  the  sufferings  of  those  early 
Confessors.  It  seems  no  longer  like  the  last 
page  of  the  history  of  pure  Christian  life  in 
their  country. 

The  narrative  of  the  conflict  between  the 
Keformed  faith  and  the  Inquisition  in  Spain 
naturally  links  itself  with  the  story  of  the 
renewal  of  that  conflict  in  Holland,  where  its 
termination  was  so  different. 

The  facts  on  which  the  first  of  these  sketches 
are  founded  are  drawn  from  Llorente's  "  His- 
toria  de  la  Inquisicion  de  Espana,"  "  Dr. 
M' Cries    "Reformation    in    Spain,"    and    De 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

Castro's  "  Spanish  Protestants."  The  historical 
authorities  for  the.  facts  of  the  second  have 
been  Brandt's  "  Reformation  in  and  about  the 
Low  Countries,"  Van  Braght's  "  Martyrology 
of  the  Baptists,"  Prescott's  "  History  of  the 
Reign  of  Philip  the  Second,"  Motley's  "  Dutch 
Republic,"  and  his  "Netherlands,"  with  other 
well-known  histories  of  those  times. 


THE 


MARTYRS  OF  8PAIK 


CHAPTER  I. 

"irOW  that  it  is  all  over,  and  the  light  which 
--'  we  thought  would  have  been  life  to  Spain 
has  been  quenched  in  blood,  or,  scattered  far 
and  wide,  faintly  shines  in  other  happier  lands, 
they  wish  that  I  should  recall  what  I  can  remem- 
ber of  the  tragic  history  in  which  so  many  of 
our  race  have  perished. 

At  first,  when  all  was  fresh,  and  for  many 
years  after  my  escape  to  Holland,  I  could  not 
have  borne  to  tear  open  the  old  wound  and 
renew  the  anguish  of  those  days.  But  now  that 
gray  hairs  are  on  my  head,  the  white  blossoms 
of  a  better  spring,  it  is  different.  I  can  think 
of  the  Church  more  in  her  eternal  unity,  and  see 
how  glorious  the  other  side  must  be  of  the 
cloud  which  was  darkness  and  desolation  to 
us. 

My  mother  was  a  Cazalla.      The  name  is  infa- 

(9) 


10  THE    MAKTTRS    OF    SPAIN, 

mous  ill  my  country,  but  I  think  it  is  not 
unknown  in  heaven,  and  is  not  infamous  there. 
My  mother's  name  was  Constanza  de  Vibero 
Cazalla.  My  father  was  an  Ortiz,  comptroller 
of  the  kino-'s  customs.  We  were  "  new  Chris- 
tians"  of  Jewish  descent.  Thus  our  infamy  is 
of  double  dye  among  the  "  old  Christians"  of 
Spain  ;  we  are  tainted  with  the  heresies  both  of 
the  Old  Testament  and  the  New.  Our  home 
was  at  Valladolid.  We  have  no  home  there 
now;  but  an  empty  space  is  there,  where  the 
house  of  my  grandmother,  Leanor  de  Vibero, 
once  stood.  It  was  razed  to  the  ground,  and 
a  pillar  stands  on  the  site,  engraved  with  her 
name.  It  is  not  a  pillar  of  glory,  at  lease  it 
is  not  esteemed  such  in  Valladolid.  But  I  am 
anticipating  my  story. 

The  first  thing  which  stands  out  distinctly  in 
my  memory,  detached  from  the  sunny  days  of 
my  childhood,  was  an  evening  in  the  year  1544. 
We  were  thirteen  brothers  and  sisters  at  home, 
and  every  day  to  us,  no  doubt,  was  full  of  child- 
ish plans  and  plays,  which  seemed  to  us  as  iraj^or- 
tant  as  the  schemes  of  emperors  and  inquisitors 
to  them ;  and,  no  doubt,  thousands  of  important 
events  were  transpiring  around  us  which  were 
to  us  of  as  little  moment  as  our  plays  and  plans 
to  the  wise  people  around  us.  But  the  scenes 
of  that  day  and  the  next  are  as  vivid  and  clear 
to  me  as  those  of  yesterday.  Perhaps  it  is  my 
having    spent   that    day  alone,  away  from  the 


THE    MARTYES    OF    SPAIK.  11 

merry  home  party,  wliicli  has  helped  to  hnpress 
it  on  my  memory.  I  was  staying  Avith  my  fostei*- 
mother,  Antonia  Minguez,  whose  husband  and 
his  sister  Isabel  were  in  the  service  of  my  aunt, 
Beatrix  ^e  Vibero  Cazalla.  My  foster-parents 
had  a  market-garden  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
town,  and  we  were  returning  to  my  home,  which 
was  situated  in  the  middle  of  the  town,  with 
their  donkey  laden  with  panniers  of  vegetables 
and  fruit.  I  Avas  seated. on  a  cushion  between 
the  panniers,  and  felt  as  proud  as  a  queen  on  her 
palfrey.  When  we  entered  the  gates,  a  soldier 
rudely  stopped  my  foster-father  and  snatched 
from  him  the  short  knife  or  dagger  which  he 
wore  in  his  girdle.  My  foster-father  had  all 
the  pride  of  a  Castilian  peasant  and  an  old 
Christian,  in  whose  veins  no  tainted  drop  of 
Jewish  or  Moorish  blood  flowed.  He  raised  his 
hand  to  resist,  but  a  magic  sentence  arrested 
him  : 

"  It  is  the  eve  of  the  anto.  No  one  can  bear 
arms  in  Valladolid  to-day." 

"  I  will  leave  my  arms  with  you,  then,"  he 
said,  "  but  let  me  pass  with  my  vegetables. 
They  are  for  a  noble  house  in  the  city,  to  which 
this  little  girl  belongs,  and  by  to-morrow  they 
will  be  spoilt." 

The  officer  of  the  guard  had  joined  us.  "  Turn 
the  fellow  back,"  he  said,  "  who  cares  for  nobles 
or  princes  on  the  eve  of  an  auto  ?  We  have  the 
orders  of  the  Church.     No  horse  or  coach,  if  it 


12  THE    MARTTES    OF    SPAIX. 

were  the  king's  own,  can  pass  tliroiigh  the  gate 
streets  to-day.  Restore  the  man  his  arms,  and 
turn  him  back." 

Resistance  was  useless,  and  we  returned  to 
the  cottage  in  the  garden. 

I  was  much  disappointed  at  losing  my  ride 
through  the  city,  but  my  foster-mother  comforted 
me  by  promising  to  take  me  to  the  show  that 
evening,  and  on  the  following  day.  That  even- 
ing, therefore,  she  wrapped  me  up  closely  and 
took  me  through  back  streets  into  a  house  which 
overlooked  the  Great  Square. 

We  waited  there  some  time,  gazing  down  the 
empty  street,  until  1  was  tired  of  sitting  still, 
when  in  the  distance  I  descried  the  flare  of 
torches'  following  something  black  and  gloomy. 
I  remember  giving  a  little  scream  of  pleasure 
that  the  show  I  had  waited  for  so  lonaf  was  com- 
ing  at  last,  but  I  was  hushed  very  gravely ;  every 
one  spoke  in  whispers,  and  for  the  rest  of  the 
time  I  felt  like  being  in  church.  The  procession 
drew  nearer.  First  came  a  large  bier  on  which 
lay  something  hidden  under  a  heavy  pall  of 
black  velvet.  The  black  drapery  almost  reached 
the  ground.  I  was  terrified  to  think  what  might 
be  underneath,  but  I  Avas  too  much  awed  to  ask 
any  questions.  Behind  this  bier  came  a  great 
number  of  men,  all  marching  slowly  and  silent- 
ly, and  each  one  carrying  a  large  white  taper 
(such  as  I  had  seen  at  church)  taller  than 
himself;    and  after  these  rode  a  trooj)  of  sol- 


THE   MARTYES    OF   SPAI^T.  13 

diers.  Hitherto  all  had  been  silent,  but  as  the 
procession  entered  the  square,  there  was  a  sud- 
den burst  of  music ;  clarionets  and  trumpets 
pealed  forth  together  a  solemn  march. 

The  j^rocession  stopped  at  a  scaffold  erected  in 
the  centre  of  the  square,  and  then  the  sound  of 
the  clarionets  and  trumpets  ceased,  and  there  was 
silence  again.  My  eyes  were  fixed  on  that  ter- 
rible gigantic  bier.  It  seemed  the  object  of 
every  one's  attention.  The  tapers  kept  close  to 
it;  the  soldiers  formed  around  it.  At  length 
the  Dominican  monks,  the  Black  Friars,  ap- 
proached it,  and  lifted  the  pall.  I  trembled  to 
see  what  would  be  discovered  beneath.  But  to 
my  great  relief  nothing  appeared  but  an  enor- 
mous green  cross,  which  the  monks  reverentially 
placed  on  the  altar  in  the  midst  of  the  scaffold. 
Beside  it  were  erected  twelve  tall  white  tapers, 
and  then,  while  the  cross  was  being  placed  on  the 
altar,  a  chorus  of  choristers'  voices  suddenly 
burst  forth  in  the  hymn — 

"  Vexilla  Regis  prodeunt, 
Fulget  Crucis  mysterinm, 
•  Quo  carne  carnis  conditor 

Suspensiis  est  patibulo." 

"  The  Banner  of  the  King  goes  forth — 
The  Cross,  the  radiant  mystery — 
"Where,  in  a  frame  of  human  birtli, 
Man's  Maker  suffers  on  the  tree." 

It  was  a  favorite  hymn  of  my  mother's,  and  I 
knew  it  well.     The  grand   music    suited  the 
2 


14  THE   MAETTES    OF   SPAIIST. 

mournful  yet  triumjihant  words  so  well.  We 
had  often  sung  it  at  home ;  but  after  that  day  I 
never  remember  singing  it  again. 

When  the  clear  ringing  voices  ceased,  there 
was  silence  again ;  the  crowd  dispersed,  the  bier 
was  removed.  Only  the  great  green  cross  re- 
mained on  the  altai-,  lighted  by  the  twelve  ta- 
pers, and  guarded  by  the  Black  Friars  and  a 
squadron  of  lancers  sitting  immovably  on  their 
horses,  with  their  lances  in  rest.  No  sound 
broke  the  stillness  of  the  night  but  the  rattling  of 
the  bit  or  caparison  of  a  restless  horse,  and  I  was 
very  glad  when  my  foster-mother  rose  and  took 
me  away  with  her. 

"  Did  you  like  it,  little  one  ?"  she  said. 

"It  Avas  so  sombre,  Antonia.  It  was  like  a 
funeral." 

"  Ah !"  she  said,  "  but  to-morroAv  wUl  be  an- 
other thing.  My  darling  shall  have  her  best 
dress  on,  and  it  will  be  daylight,  and  the  princes 
and  nobles  will  be  there,  and  the  bishops  and  the 
beautiful  ladies,  and  my  little  one  shall  be  as  gay 
as  any  of  them.  We  shall  see  if  she  is  pleased 
then." 

So  we  returned  to  the  cottage,  and  I  fell 
asleep  with  my  head  full  of  brilliant  visions  of 
the  morrow.  They  were  a  peri:)etual  festival  to 
me — the  child  of  the  town — these  visits  to  my 
foster-mother  m  the  country.  To  awake  in  the 
morning  in  a  garden,  with  birds  singing,  and 
the  morning  sunbeams  looking  in  at  my  tiny 


THE    MAETTES    OF    SPAIN.  15 

window  through  the  leaves  of  the  vines,  and 
then  to  go  out  and  feed  the  poultry,  and  smell 
all  the  sWeet  flowers  and  the  breath  of  Antonia's 
cows  tethered  in  the  little  field  near,  it  was  a 
constant  fete  to  me.  The  country  around  Valla- 
dolid  is  not  beautiful,  but  flat  and  parched,  with 
only  the  faint  outline  of  hills  in  the  distance. 
But  to  me  the  country  was  my  foster-mother's 
garden,  and  I  wished  for  nothing  more  beautiful 

0  7  C7 

in  the  world  than  her  rows  of  vegetables,  wa- 
tered carefully  by  tiny  channels  from  the  little 
spring;  the  old  well,  with  its  stone  seat,  and 
trough  slowly  filling  and  trickUng  over,  the  great 
oak  tree  above  it,  and  the  vines  on  the  slopes  of 
the  little  hollow  at  the  bottom  of  which  the  cot- 
tage stood. 

But  to-day  was  to  be  a/e7e  in  the  town.  We 
were  all  awake  at  sunrise,  and  there  was  no  time 
to  think  of  any  thing  but  how  to  make  the  most 
of  all  the  treasures  contained  in  Antonia's  family 
chest.  The  girls  of  the  family  were  attiring 
themselves  in  their  gay  festival  bodices  and  pet- 
ticoats, their  one  rohe  de  fete  ;  but  Antonia's  own 
costume  was  soon  arranged,  and  all  her  stores  of 
imagination  and  finery  were  ransacked  to  make 
me,  the  little  lady  of  the  party,  look  as  I  ought. 
She  despoiled  herself  of  her  own  ancestral  ear- 
rings and  neck  ornaments  to  deck  my  little  jDcr- 
son.  She  garlanded  my  dark  hair  with  white 
roses,  and  fastened  an  enormous  bouquet  in  my 
bosom,  which    Avas  my  great  pride,  and,  like 


16  THE   MAKTTES    OF   SPAIN. 

many  other  treasures,  also  my  greatest  encum- 
brance all  the  clay.  How  happy  I  was  when  the 
donkey  was  led  to  the  door,  not,  as  yesterday, 
laden  with  commercial  panniers,  but  decorated 
with  flowers  and  ribbons,  and  looking  as  proud 
as  I  felt  when  they  seated  me  on  his  back,  and 
my  foster-father,  with  his  dagger  in  a  bright  new 
sheath  in  his  belt,  held  the  bridle ! 

We  left  the  donkey  with  a  friend  near  the 
gate,  and  then  my  foster-father  carried  me 
through  the  streets,  which  were  crowded  with 
people  all  in  holiday  attire.  But  we  pressed 
through,  and  reached  safely  the  house  in  the 
Great  Square  where  we  had  been  the  night  be- 
fore. All  the  great  church-bells  were  tolling 
solemnly. 

There  stood  the  scaffold  in  the  middle  of  the 
square,  with  the  great  green  cross  on  it,  and  the 
twelve  tapers.  They  had  looked  solemn  and 
terrible  to  me  in  the  darkness  of  the  night  be- 
fore, but  now  they  lay  like  dull  red  spots  on  the 
brilliant  sunshine  which  flashed  from  the  lances 
of  the  soldiers  and  the  jewels  of  the  court-ladies 
who  sate  under  a  canopy  on  a  stage  opposite 
to  us. 

The  procession  soon  aj^proached.  At  first  the 
cathedral  cross  under  a  veil ;  then  the  clergy,  in 
black  and  white,  crimson  and  gold  ;  then  the 
magistrates  and  great  men  of  the  city,  walking 
in  their  gorgeous  robes  and  gold  chains  ;  and 
afterwards  the  nobles  on  their  prancing  horses, 


THE    MAETYRS    OF   SPAIlsr.  17 

and  a  very  grave  gentleman,  who,  they  told  me, 
was  the  Alguazil  mayor  of  the  Inquisition,  also 
on  horseback.  I  liked  best  the  beautiful  horses, 
champing  their  bits,  with  flashing  eyes  and  long 
manes  and  tails  ;  but  altogether  the  procession 
was  certainly  much  more  brilliant  and  amusing 
than  on  the  evening  before.  And  the  choristers 
chanted  the  liturgy,  and  sometimes  trumj^ets 
l^ealed.  But  immediately  after  the  cathedral 
cross  came  a  number  of  downcast-looking  men, 
in  all  kinds  of  strang-e  dresses.  At  first  Ithouajht 
they  must  have  put  them  on  in  jest  to  amuse  us ; 
but  when  I  asked  Antonia,  she  said  I  was  a 
foolish  little  prattler,  and  told  me  to  ask  no  more 
questions.  Accordingly  I  kept  quiet,  and  threw 
all  my  soul  into  my  eyes,  reserving  my  questions 
for  the  future.  These  men  were  so  strangely 
dressed,  and  people  mocked  and  pointed  at 
them  as  they  passed,  and  some  looked  angry, 
and  lifted  up  their  hands  in  horror.  I  felt  sorry 
for  the  men,  only  they  looked  so  very  ridiculous. 
Some  had  lialters  round  their  necks,  some  bore 
extinguished  torches,  and  some  carried  crosses, 
and  were  dressed  more  quietly  in  black;  but 
others  wore  a  loose  vest  or  zamarra  of  bright 
yellow,  with  a  conical  pasteboard  cap  written  all 
over  with  large  letters.  Two  or  three  were  still 
more  strangely  attired ;  their  bright  yellow 
robes  were  painted  from  head  to  foot  with  large 
red  and  yellow  tongues  of  flame,  the  points  of 
the  flames  turning  downwards.  One  man,  how- 
2* 


18  THE    MAETTHS    OP    SPAIN. 

ever,  seemed  to  attract  more  attention  than  all 
the  rest. 

"Look  at  him  !"  exclaimed  Antonia;  "that  is 
San  Roman,  the  heretic." 

He  wore  the  same  frightful,  yet  ridiculous 
yellow  robe,  painted  all  over,  like  those  of  the 
others,  with  flames  ;  only  on  his  robe  I  noticed 
that  the  flames  were  turned  upwards,  as  real 
flames  always  are.  A  number  of  the  Black 
Friars  were  thronging  around  him,  talking  fast 
and  loud,  and  gesticulating  violently,  pointing 
to  the  flames  on  his  robe,  and  then  thrusting 
their  crosses  forward  in  his  face.  He  seemed  to 
reply  nothing,  but  I  thought  his  lips  moved. 
The  monks  looked  very  angry  sometimes,  and  I 
felt  quite  afraid  they  would  hurt  him ;  but  he 
did  not  look  wretched.  Sometimes  his  eyes 
turned  towards  the  sky,  and  then  I  thought  he 
looked  very  happy.  I  scarcely  know  what  riv- 
eted my  eyes  so  much  on  him ;  but  I  was  so 
busy  Avatching  him,  that,  when  I  looked  away, 
the  whole  scene  had  changed.  The  two  wooden 
stages  (on  each  side  of  the  altar  in  the  middle 
of  the  square)  Avhich  had  been  empty,  were  now 
filled,  one  Avith  the  clergy,  the  other  with  the 
magistrates.  Below  Avere  ranged  the  halber- 
diers ;  and  on  one  side  of  the  square,  where  they 
had  erected  a  flight  of  steps  covered  Avith  a  mag- 
nificent carpet,  on  three  seats,  draped  Avith  crim- 
son velvet,  sate  the  inquisitors,  and  near  them, 
on  the  throne,  Avith  the  royal  arms  before  it,  the 


THE   MAETYES    OP   SPAIN".  19 

public  prosecutor  representing  the  king.  The 
crimson  damask  banner  of  the  Inquisition  hung 
in  hehvy  folds  before  these  seats,  surmounted  by 
a  crucifix  of  gold  and  silver.  '  All  this  Antonia 
explained  to  me.  It  was  all  very  brilliant — the 
sunshine,  the  music,  the  dresses  of  the  priests 
and  of  the  ladies,  the  peasants  in  all  the  various 
gay  costumes  of  the  neighbouring  districts 
thronging  the  square.  And  on  that  poor  wood- 
en stage  also,  opposite  the  inquisitors,  the.  col- 
ours were  brilliant  enough!  No  Oriental  car- 
pets, or  Italian  velvets,  or  Mexican  gold  and 
silver  adorned  it;  but  the  yellow  san-benitos, 
with  their  flaming  colours,  were  tliere,  and  that 
strange  man,  the  heretic,  was  there  also,  and  I 
could  not  keep  my  eyes  from  watching  him. 

At  first,  I  had  plenty  of  time.  A  friar,  Don 
Bartolome  Carranza,  ascended  one  of  the  pulpits, 
and  preached  a  sermon  which  it  seemed  to  me 
would  never  end.  From  time  to  time,  as  it  went 
on,  the  Black  Friars,  who  were  on  the  stage 
with  the  men  in  yellow  robes,  whispered  and  ges- 
ticulated to  San  Roman.  Sometimes  I  thought 
he  tried  to  answer  them,  but  they  silenced  him 
at  once;  and  at  length  he  seemed  to  give  up 
heeding  any  thing  they  said,  and  stood  calm  and 
still,  as  if  no  one  had  been  disturbins:  him  or 
looking  at  him. 

The  preacher,  I  noticed,  often  turned  towards 
him. 

When  the  sermon  was  over,  another  priest 


20  THE   MAETYES    OF   SPAIN. 

mounted  the  other  pulpit,  and,  kneeling  down, 
began  to  say  something  in  a  loud  voice.  In- 
stantly the  whole  assembly  fell  on  their  knees, 
and  among  the  re^t,  Antonia  made  me  kneel  be- 
side her.  The  ladies  in  their  brilliant  dresses  on 
the  court  platform,  the  clergy  in  white  surplices 
or  gorgeous  robes,  the  magistrates  on  the  stages 
by  the  altar,  the  great  crowd  of  peasants  in  the 
square,  all  knelt  and  repeated  something  after  the 
priest  in  the  pulpit.  I  thought  it  must  be  'the 
Angelas,  and  began  to  say  my  Ave  Maria  ;  and 
Antonia  said  I  was  a  good  child,  but  they  M'ere 
repeating  the  confession  of  the  holy  Roman 
faith. 

When  I  looked  to  the  jDlatform  where  San 
Roman  was,  amongst  that  multitude  of  kneeling 
figures,  he  alone  was  standing.  The  friars  looked 
more  angry  than  ever,  when  they  rose  and  tried 
to  force  him  down  to  kneel  before  a  crucifix. 
But  although  he  looked  very  tottering  and  hag- 
gard, he  stood  his  ground,  and  would  not  kneel. 

An  angry  murmur  burst  from  the  crowd. 
"The  wretched  heretic!"  said  Antonia;  "he  is 
worse  than  a  Jew  or  a  pagan.  Any  one  can  see 
he  is  no  Christian." 

Then  I  began  to  feel  I  ought  to  be  angry 
with  him  too — so  obstinate,  and  worse  than  a 
pagan !  But  when  I  looked  at  his  tottering 
frame  and  calm  face,  I  could  not  feel  angry ; 
I  felt  sorry  for  him,  and  I  wondered  what  it  all 
meant. 


THE    MAETTES    OF   SPAIN.  21 

I  had  not  much  time  to  think.  When  the 
people  rose,  the  halberdiers  made  a  passage 
through  the  crowd  from  the  velvet  seats  to  the 
altar ;  and  the  three  inquisitors  came  down  and 
stood  by  the  altar.  Then,  one  by  one,  the  men 
in  black  robes  with  the  extinguished  torches, 
and  the  men  in  yellow  vests  painted  with  re- 
versed flames,  came  and  knelt  by  the  altar  before 
the  inquisitors,  and  were  led  away  by  the  friars. 
These,  Antonia  said,  were  the  penitents. 

I  Avatched  for  San  Roman  to  descend  the  steps 
and  kneel  before  the  inquisitors,  like  the  rest. 
But  one  by  one  went  down,  and  still  he  did  not 
stir,  until  he  was  left  alone  on  the  platform  with 
the  Black  Friars.  Then  again  they  presented 
the  crucifix  to  him,  and  again  he  refused  to 
kneel,  and  an  angry  murmur  came  from  the 
crowd.  I  could  not  quite  make  out  the  words  ; 
but  "  No  Christian  !  worse  than  a  pagan  !  away 
with  him !  it  is  not  fit  that  he  should  live !  to 
the  Brasero — to  the  Brasero !"  reached  my  ears, 
as  they  placed  him  on  an  ass  in  his  yellow  vest 
and  a  strange  conical  pasteboard  cap,  like  the 
mockery  of  a  mitre.  So  they  led  him  through  the 
crowd,  amidst  the  jesting  and  angry  gesticula- 
tions of  the  people,  and  the  day's  show  was  over. 

The  brilliant  dresses  vanished  one  by  one  from 
the  platforms,  the  j^riests  from  the  altars,  the 
crowd  of  peasants  from  the  square ;  the  noise 
died  away  in  the  distance,  and  we  set  off"  to  re- 
turn to  our  cottage  in  the  garden.     As  we  went 


22  THE    liTArvTYES    OF    SrAIX. 

home,  I  hojied  all  the  way  we  might  meet  San 
Roman ;  but  we  saw  no  more  of  him,  or  of  the 
crowd. 

But  as  my  foster-mother  was  giving  me  her 
parting  kiss  that  night,  I  ventured  to  ask  her, 
"  Where  did  they  take  the  man  in  the  yellow 
robe  on  the  ass  ?     Shall  we  see  him  again  ?" 

"  He  is  a  heretic  ;  no  Christian,"  said  Antonia, 
with  hesitation ;  "  no,  we  shall  never  see  him 
again.  They  took  him  to  the  Brasero ;  he  is 
burnt." 

I  sate  up  in  the  bed,  and  said,  "  What  is 
burnt  ?  You  mean  that  frightful  dress  ;  but  I 
mean  the  man  !  that  jDOor  man  whose  limbs  tot- 
tered so  when  he  tried  to  walk.  What  did  they 
do  with  him  ?" 

"  He  is  burnt,  little  one,  I  told  you." 

"  The  man  ?"  I  said. 

"Yes,  the  man,  the  heretic,"  replied  Antonia, 
rather  embarrassed  at  my  wondering  looks  and 
tears  ;  "  he  was  no  Christian,  I  told  you." 

Then  I  remember  I  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears. 
"  I  am  sorry  for  liim,  oh,  I  am  so  sorry  for  him ; 
it  must  have  hurt  him  so  much  !" 

"  But  you  must  not  be  sorry  for  him,"  said 
Antonia ;  "  you  must  not  cry  for  him ;  he  is  a 
great  criminal,  he  is  a  heretic,  worse  than  a 
murderer." 

"  But  I  would  be  sorry  to  have  a  murderer 
burnt,"  I  sobbed.  "  Oh,  I  wish  I  had  never 
gone.     I  wish  I  had  never  seen  him.     O  Anto- 


THE    MARTTES    OF    SPAHST.  23 

nia,  this  is  no  holiday,  this  is  no  fete.  Was  it 
for  this  you  dressed  me  in  flowers,  and  garlanded 
my  hair  ?  O  promise  you  will  never  take  me  to 
see  any  thing  like  that  again  !" 

Antonia  tried  another  mode  of  consolation. 

"  Hush,  tender-hearted  child !"  she  said  ; 
"  perhaps  it  was  not  so  bad  after  all." 

"  But  I  know,"  I  said,  "  I  know  how  bad  it  is, 
for  I  burnt  my  hand  once."  And  Antonia  could 
by  no  means  comfort  me  until  I  sobbed  myself 
to  sleep. 

So  ended  the  day  of  the  auto  to  me. 

I  heard  afterwards  how  it  ended  for  San  Ro- 
man. He  refused,  when  he  reached  the  stake,  to 
purchase  any  mitigation  of  his  suffering  by  con- 
fessing or  abjuring  his  heresies.  If  he  would 
have  retracted,  he  might  have  been  strangled, 
and  thus  have  escaped  the  agony  of  being  burnt 
alive.  But  heaven  was  too  near  him,  and  God 
was  too  near  him,  for  him  thus  to  betray  his 
Master. 

He  was  fastened  to  the  stake.  As  the  flames 
reached  him,  his  head  sank.  The  friars  around 
him  exclaimed  he  was  penitent,  and  had  him 
taken  out  of  the  flames. 

"  Did  you  envy  me  my  happiness  ?"  he  said  ; 
and  they  thrust  him  in  again. 

In  an  instant  the  smoke  suffocated  hira, 

In  one  sense,  then,  my  foster-mother  was 
right ;  it  was  not  so  painful  to  Sf^n  Roman,  after 
all,  as  I  thought.    ' 


24  THE   MAETTES    OF   SPAIN. 

Thus  perished  the  first  Protestant  martyr  in 
Spain. 

Was  it  not  God  who  ordered  it  so  that  he 
should  be  withdrawn  for  that  moment  from  the 
flames,  to  give  the  dying  testimony  Avhich  has 
inspired  so  many  since  ?  And  is  it  indeed  pos- 
sible that  to  some  of  these  martyrs  the  soul 
withm  the  perishing  body  is  happy  and  un- 
moved, as  of  old  the  bodies  of  the  three  martyrs 
in  the  furnace  of  Nebuchadnezzar  ?  Must  there 
not  indeed  be  a  joy  in  suffering  for  Christ,  which 
pone  but  those  who  thus  suffer  can  conceive. 


THE   MAETTES    OP   SPAIN.  25 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  next  day  I  returned  to  my  own  home  in 
Valladolid.  I  fomid  my  mother  looking  very 
sad,  and  when  I  poured  forth  the  history  of  the 
last  two  days,  and  my  grief  for  San  Roman,  she 
shewed  an  indignation  such  as  I  scarcely  ever 
remembered  to  have  seen  in  her  gentle  face. 

"  How  could  Antonia  take  my  child  to  see 
such  horrors  ?" 

"  But  was  he  indeed  so  bad  ?"  I  asked.  "  Was 
he  no  Christian  ?" 

"San  Roman  no  Christian!"  she  exclaimed. 
"  He  died  for  nothing  but  for  being  too  good  a 
Christian." 

Then,  with  a  timid  gesture,  looking  around 
her  as  if  she  dreaded  the  echo  of  her  own  voice, 
she  said,  in  a  lower  tone,  "  Never  speak  of  that 
wretched  day  again,  Dolores.  It  will  be  long- 
before  I  trust  my  children  from  under  my  roof 
again." 

But  from  that  time  things  seemed  changed  at 
our  home.  Since  my  mother's  widowhood,  she 
had  returned  to  the  house  of  our  grandmother, 
Leanor  de  Vibero  Cazalla.  There  had  often 
been  mysterious  visitors  on  Sundays  at  our 
3 


26         "  THE    MAKTYRS    OF    SPx^TN. 

house,  and  mysterious  proceedings,  which  were 
matters  of  much  speculation  among  the  younger 
children.  The  elder  ones  had  one  by  one  been 
admitted  into  the  secret,  but  they  kept  it  invio- 
lably from  us,  and  to  all  our  inquiries  refilled 
only,  "  Wait  a  little  and  you  will  know." 

But  now  these  visitors  seemed  to  come  oftener, 
and  those  mysterious  meetings  were  more  reg- 
ular. Perhaps,  also,  that  terrible  cniio  had 
awakened  my  mind  from  the  happy  uncon- 
sciousness of  childhood  into  which  it  never 
again  relapsed.  Certainly  from  that  day  my  life 
begins  to  unroll  more  consecutively  and  clearly 
to  my  memory.  Continually  persons  would 
meet  each  other  at  our  house,  and  gather  to- 
gether in  little  knots  in  low  earnest  conversa- 
tion. Occasionally  also  they  would  sit,  eagerly 
discussing  some  of  the  strange  books  which  now 
began  to  be  brought  to  our  house.  Among 
these  were  persons  of  all  races,  ranks,  and  occu- 
pations— Juan  Garcia,  the  silversmith  ;  Antonio 
de  Ilerezuelo,  a  famous  advocate  from  Toro  ; 
Don  Cristobal  de  Padilla,  a  knight ;  two  of  my 
younger  uncles,  Pedro,  afterwards  parish  priest 
of  IIoi  migos,  and  Francisco,  afterwards  cura  of 
Pedrosa.  Many  ladies  of  rank  also  came,  and 
some  who  had  devoted  themselves  to  works  of 
piety,  as  Beatas,  or  uucloistered  nuns  without 
conventual  rules.  There  were  servants  also 
among  those  who  frequented  our  house — Isa- 
belhuand  Auton  Minguez,  and  sometimes  Anto- 


THE    MARTYRS    OF    SPAI^T.  27 

Ilia.  But  the  leading  man  amongst  them  at  that 
time,  to  whom  all  the  rest  seemed  to  defer,  was 
Domingo  de  Rojas,  son  of  the  Marquis  de  Poza, 
a  Dominican  friar.  There  was  all  the  dignity  of 
the  old  Castilian  noble  of  i^ure  blood  about  him, 
fascinating  beyond  expression  to  my  childish  im- 
agination. He  was  not,  I  suppose,  much  used 
to  children,  and  there  was  in  his  manner  a  kind 
of  knightly  deference  to  me  and  my  little  sisters, 
which  charmed  us  exceedingly.  It  was  as  if  we 
had  a  kind  of  double  sacredness  in  his  eyes,  the 
sacredness  of  womanhood  and  childhood.  His 
bearing  towards  us  seemed  moulded  at  once  by 
the  precepts  of  chivalry,  and  the  more  hallowed 
precepts  of  our  Saviour  with  regard  to  children 
— honor  to  women,  blended  with,  "  Suifer  the 
little  children  to  come  unto  me." 

I  remember  his  once  saying  to  me  when  he 
found  me  studying  diligently  an  illuminated 
copy  of  the  Gospels  in  Latin,  "  You  would  wish 
one  day  to  be  like  the  holy  women  in  that  book, 
Dona  Dolores  ?" 

"  No,  Don  Domingo,"  I  replied,  very  gravely, 
*'  I  should  not ;  I  should  like  to  be  as  good  as 
my  mother,  and  like  her  ;  not  a  holy  woman,  not 
a  nun  or  a  Beata." 

He  smiled.  "  But  if  we  can  find  a  way  for  you 
to  be  a  holy  woman,  without  being  a  nun  or  a 
Beata?  Our  Lord  said,  that  those  who  love 
Him  and  keep  His  words,  are  blessed  and  dear  to 
Him  as  His  own  blessed  Mother." 


28  THE    MAETTES    OP    SPAIN. 

"  Blessed  as  Maria  i^urissima  ?" 

"  But  do  you  know  what  it  is  to  keej)  His 
words  ?"  he  asked. 

"  What  are  His  words  ?"  I  said. 

"  They  are  in  that  book  you  are  looking  at," 
he  replied. 

"  But  it  is  a  priest's  book.  It  is  Latin,"  I 
said ;  "  I  cannot  read  it." 

"  Suppose  I  could  get  you  the  Holy  Gospels 
in  Castilian,  so  that  you  could  read  them  ?" 

"  Could  you,  indeed  ?"  I  exclaimed,  eagerly. 

"We  will  ask  the  Doiia  Costanza,  your 
mother,"  he  replied.  And  so  that  conversation 
ended. 

This  was  about  four  years  after  that  dreadful 
auto  ;  and  on  that  very  afternoon  happened  the 
accident  which  determined  the  whole  course  of 
my  life. 

I  was  walking  with  my  youngest  sister,  fire 
years  younger  than  myself,  when  a  cry  of  alarm 
arose  in  the  street,  and,  turning  around,  I  saw  a 
riderless  horse  rushing  towards  us.  I  remember 
seizing  my  little  sister  and  pushing  her  under  an 
open  doorway  ;  and  then  I  remember  nothing 
more  until  (many  days  afterwards)  I  found  my- 
self lying  in  much  pain  on  a  little  bed  in  my 
mother's  room,  and  seeing  my  mother's  eyes  fixed 
with  anxious  tenderness  on  me.  Had  she  been 
watching  me  with  such  a  look  ever  since  ?  I 
stretched  out  my  hand  to  feel  hers,  then  closed 
my  eyes  again  with  a  dreamy  mingled  sense  of 


THE    MAETITES    OF    SPAIN.  29 

pain  and  love.  Wlien  I  opened  them  again  she 
was  kneeling  by  my  bedside.  Her  eyes  were 
looking  heavenward,  and  streaming  with  silent 
tears.  That  time  I  did  not  close  my  eyes  again. 
I  said,  "  Speak  to  me,  mother." 

But  instead  of  speaking  to  me,  she  rose  and 
gave  me  a  long,  quiet  kiss,  and  then  kneeling 
down  again,  looked  up  and  said  in  a  faltering 
voice : 

"  Father,  we  will  speak  to  Thee  first.  Thou 
lovest  us — Thou  hast  heard  us — Thou  givest  me 
back  my  child— I  give  her  to  Thee— she  is 
Thine.  Thou  blessed  Saviour,  who  knowest  the 
mother's  heart  and  the  widow's,  Thou  hast  said 
to  me,  'Weep  not.'  Say  it  to  her.  Thou  Good 
Shepherd,  who  gathered  the  lambs  in  Thy  bosom 
and  bearest  the  sick  on  Thy  shoulder,  deal  ten- 
terly  with  this  sick  lamb.  Thou  wilt  not  fail. 
I  commit  her  to  Thee !" 

She  prayed  longer,  but  not  with  the  voice — 
with  tears.  I  Avatched  her  lips  move  until  a  de- 
licious feeling  of  calm  stole  over  me,  and  I  must 
have  fallen  asleep.  When  I  awoke  she  was  still 
there,  and  beside  her  some  food  and  cooling 
drinks,  which  she  gave  me.  Then  the  scene  in 
the  street  flashed  on  me,  and  I  said, 

"  Is  little  Costanza  safe  ?" 

"  Quite  safe,  dear  child,  and  unhurt,"  was  the 
reply,  and  I  lay  still  again. 

So  gradually  I  recovered,  and  learned  what 
had  happened  me,  and  by  degrees,  as   I  could 
3* 


30  THE    MARTTES    OF    SPAIK. 

bear,  came  to  understand  what  my  future  life 
must  be.  I  had  been  thrown  down  and  stunned 
by  the  horse  we  had  seen  madly  dashing  down 
on  us  in  the  narrow  street.  I  had  received  in- 
juries which  must,  it  was  thought,  make  me  a 
cripple  for  life.  But  it  was  only  by  slow  de- 
grees that  we  all  came  to  this  conviction. 

At  times  I  suffered  much  pain  from  the  setting 
of  the  dislocated  and  broken  joints,  but  I  had 
many  intervals  of  rest.  I  have  often  since  been 
glad  to  have  learned  what  pain  is.  How  much 
else  I  learned,  or  began  to  learn,  on  that  bed  of 
suffering,  I  shall  know  more  fully  in  the  better 
world  in  which  I  hope  soon  to  awaken,  and  meet 
my  mother's  eyes  again  ;  and  not  my  mother's 
only,  nor  first. 

My  mother  devoted  herself  entirely  to  me  dur- 
ing the  first  weeks  of  my  recovery.  From  that 
time  there  was  a  bond  between  us  stronger  and 
closer  than  any  which  bound  us  to  any  beside  on 
earth.  She  used  to  sit  beside  me,  and,  as  I 
could  bear  it,  tell  me  stories  to  while  away  the 
suffering  hours.  They  were  mostly  saci-ed  sto- 
ries. Day  or  night  she  was  always  ready ;  and 
the  voice  and  the  words  are  blended  so  closely 
in  my  memory,  that  now  when  I  read  the  same 
histories  they  always  seem  to  me  full  of  the 
music  of  my  mother's  voice. 

First  and  dearest  were  histories  of  the  days 
of  the  Son  of  God  on  earth  ;  or  cripples  and 
blind,  maimed  and  palsied,  whom  He  touched, 


THE   MARTYRS    OF   SPAIN.  31 

"  every  one  of  them,"  and  healed ;  of  the  widow 
to  whom  he  said,  "  Weep  not ;"  of  the  sisters 
with  whom  He  wept ;  of  the  outcasts  He  suf- 
fered to  wash  his  feet,  and  addressed  with  such 
compassion  ;  of  the  well  where  He  sat  weary  at 
noon,  which  I  thought  must  be  like  the  old 
stone-rimraed  well  in  Antonia's  garden  ;  of  the 
olive  garden,  where  He  was  in  agony  ;  of  the 
cross  and  the  tomb,  where  Mary  Magdalene 
waited  so  hopelessly,  and  saw  Him  risen.  Most 
beautiful  and  touching  histories,  I  thought,  con- 
nected, too,  with  us,  I  knew,  as  no  other  histo- 
ries are  ;  and  yet  I  often  used  to  wonder  how. 
It  was  so  long  ago,  and  I  could  not  touch  even 
the  hem  of  His  garment  now  !  I  used  to  think, 
"  If  I  had  only  lived  then  !"  but  it  was  very  long 
before  I  said  this  even  to  my  mother.  So  many 
dim  thoughts  lie  hidden  in  the  deep  fountains 
of  a  child's  heart,  until  some  sudden  light  of 
symjDathy,  or  memory,  reveals  them.  But 
meantime  no  histories  were  half  so  sweet  to  me 
as  those,  and  I  w^ould  have  listened  to  them  for- 
ever, at  least  while  my  mother  told  them. 

Then  there  were  other  histories  Avhich  stirred 
up  other  feelings ;  old  stories  of  my  nation,  of 
the  only  nation  whose  earliest  history  is  no  mere 
mass  of  wild  and  distorted  legend,  but  a  true 
narrative  of  human  sin  and  sorrow,  and  faith  and 
endurance,  and  Divine  power  and  pity  and 
righteousness.  Tender  home-histories,  like  the 
first,  I  loved  best ;  of  Isaac,  the  long-promised 


32  THE    MAETYES    OF    SPAIN. 

son,  and  Rachel,  the  beloved  wife,  and  Joseph 
and  faithful  Rnth  ;  only  not  so  sweet  as  the  first, 
because  I  missed  in  them  the  voice  of  the  Saviour, 
and  the  touch  of  His  healing  hand.  I  used  to 
think,  however,  that  those  few  years  of  the  vis- 
ible presence  of  the  Son  of  God  were  different 
from  all  the  other  ages  of  the  world's  history, 
and  that  we  must  have  fallen  back  again  into  the 
dimmer  time  of  those  older  histories,  when,  as  I 
thought,  God  lived  far  away  in  heaven. 

Then  there  were  other  histories  which  struck 
quite  other  chords  in  my  heart — of  Gideon,  and 
Deborah,  and  Samson,  and  King  David,  and 
Queen  Esther  ;  histories  of  wrongs  redressed, 
and  the  oppressed  set  free,  and  victories  won  by 
our  people  of  old ;  histories  which  made  me 
exult  to  be  a  Hebrew  maiden,  until  my  heart 
sank  again  to  think  I  was  a  cripple,  and  I  longed 
for  the  days  of  miracle  in  Galilee  to  come  back 
once  more. 

But  there  was  one  thing  which  weighed  much 
on  my  mind.  From  time  to  time  the  conversa- 
tion I  have  related  between  myself  and  Don 
Domingo  de  Rojas  on  the  day  of  my  accident 
kept  recurring  to  me,  partly,  no  doubt,  because 
it  was  the  last  thing  which  had  been  in  my 
thoughts  before  the  accident. 

I  could  not  forget  that  I  had  said  to  him  I  did 
not  wish  ever  to  be  a  holy  woman,  a  Santa, 
a  nun,  or  a  Beata,  and  the  idea  would  continu- 
ally occur  to  me  that  those  were  very  wicked 


THE    MAKTYES    OF    SPAIN.  33 

■^oi'ds  to  have  spoken,  and  that  God  had  pun- 
ished me  for  them  by  lettmg  the  horse  trample 
on  pie.  Often  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  I  heard  an 
angry  voice  saying  to  me,  "  You  would  not  be  a 
holy  woman  in  the  way  I  offered  you  ;  now  I  will 
make  you  one  in  mine.  You  shall  have  no  pleas- 
ure any  more,  and  never  join  again  in  fete^  or 
dance,  or  song,  but  lie  here  shut  out  from  the 
bright  world  forever  like  a  nun ;  only  the  bars  of 
your  convent  shall  be  stronger  than  iron ;  they 
shall  be  riveted  by  disease  and  pain,  and  no  hand 
shall  be  able  to  set  you  free."  Yet  I  never  would 
venture  to  utter  this  fear ;  it  seemed  too  terrible  to 
put  into  words.  Sometimes,  when  my  mother  told 
me  the  histories  about  Jesus,  I  thought  that  terri- 
ble sentence  could  never  be  from  God  ;  it  seemed 
so  little  like  the  words  He  spoke  even  to  the  most 
sinfiU  !  And  once  I  remember,  when  my  mother 
told  me  the  story  of  the  fall,  of  the  lie  the  Devil 
made  Eve  believe  about  God,  I  wondered  for  an 
instant  if  the  thought  could  be  a  temptation ; 
and  was  on  the  point  of  telling  all  to  my  mother. 
But  then  I  remembered  the  history  of  the  cities 
which  were  destroyed  by  fire  and  brimstone,  and 
buried  beneath  the  bitter  waters  of  the  Dead  Sea ; 
and  of  the  man  and  woman  who  were  smitten  for 
the  lie,  and  my  lips  were  sealed.  I  often  tried  to 
pray,  but  this  vision  of  an  angry  God,  who  was 
punishing  me,  seemed  to  chill  my  heart. 

This  went  on  for  some  time,  until  one  day  I 
!=nAv — what  I  ought  to  have  seen  many  days  be- 


34  THE    MARTYRS    OF    SPAIN. 

fore — how  very  Avorn  and  pale  my  mother  was 
looking,  and  it  flashed  on  me  that  I  was  Avearing 
out  her  strength  by  exacting  snch  continual 
watching.  The  thought  went  like  a  dagger  to 
my  heart.  "  O  mother,"  I  said,  "  I  am  making 
you  ill !  You  get  no  sleep  ;  you  must  leave  me ; 
you  must  not  watch  me  so  much." 

"My  child,"  slie  said,  "how  can  I  leave  you? 
Who  can  soothe  you  in  your  pain  but  me  ?  Often 
you  cannot  bear  the  sound  of  any  other  voice." 

"  I  will  try  to  bear  the  pain  without  hearing 
yours  so  much,"  I  said.  "  If  I  made  you  ill,  I 
could  never  bear  that !" 

And  from  that  time  I  tried  never  again  to 
wake  her  at  night  to  soothe  me  with  the  stories 
I  loved  so  much ;  so  she  had  unbroken  sleep, 
and  I  Avas  A'ery  soon  rcAvarded  by  seeing  the 
haggard  look  pass  from  her  face.  But  although 
my  pain  grew  less,  I  could  scarcely  stir  from  my 
couch,  and  the  long  nights  often  passed  very 
Avearily.  Sometimes,  too,  such  sad  and  dark 
thoughts  came  to  me ;  and  especially  the  tones 
of  the  great  church-bells,  as  they  struck  from 
hour  to  hour,  fell  on  my  heart  like  a  knell. 
They  seemed  to  bring  back  the  terrible  morning 
when  they  tolled  for  tlie  auto  for  San  Roman. 
At  length  one  day  it  occurred  to  me  to  ask  my 
mother  if  there  Avere  any  books  in  Avhich  the 
histories  she  told  me  were  Avritten  ;  I  thought 
I  could  read  them  sometimes  by  the  lamp-light 
at  night,  and  they  Avould  be  like  companions. 


THE    MAKTYFtS    OF    SPAIN".  35 

She  Lesitated  a  moment,  and  then  said, 

"  Yes,  it  is  a  secret ;  but  I  can  trust  you  now. 
I  have  a  book  in  which  all  these  stories  are 
printed  in  Castilian," 

"The  stories  about  the  Saviour?"  I  said, 
eagerly.  "     - 

"  No,  not  those,"  she  replied ;  "  I  have  not 
yet  the  book  in  which  they  are,  except  in  Latin, 
in  that  illuminated  volume  you  used  to  be  so 
fond  of." 

"Are  all  those  beautiful  stories  there?"  I 
asked,  "in  the  priest's  book?  Why  are  they 
only  in  the  priest's  book  ?  I  should  like  every 
one  to  know  them." 

"Perhaps  every  one  will  know  them  soon," 
she  replied,  joyftdly.  "A  good  man  has  lately 
translated  thetn  into  Castilian,  and  soon  I  hope 
a  friend  will  bring  us  a  copy.  But  meantime 
you  shall  have  the  other." 

So  saying,  she  touched  the  oaken  wainscot 
near  the  head  of  my  bed,  and,  by  a  secret  spring 
opening  a  sliding  panel,  took  out  a  large  old 
book,  very  carefully  kept,  and  bound  in  vel- 
lum. 

"This  book,"  she  said,  "is  one  of  our  greatest 
family  treasures.  You  have  heard  how,  about 
sixty  years  ago  (in  1492),  every  man,  woman 
and  child  of  our  nation  was  expelled  from  Spain, 
and  driven  houseless  and  friendless  over  the 
wide  world,  except  those  who  would  abandon 
the   Jewish    customs,    and   become    what   they 


36  THE   MARTYKS    OF    SPAIN. 

called  Christians — that  is,  heai*  mass  and  con- 
fess to  the  priests.  Hundreds  and  thousands  of 
our  people  perished  in  those  wanderings.  They 
died  all  kinds  of  horrible  deaths,  by  cold  and 
hunger,  and  among  the  cruel  Moors  of  Barbary, 
whither  many  of  them  fled.  But  some  reached 
places  of  safety,  and  lived  and  prospered  in  other 
lands.  Some  settled  in  Venice.  They  had  taken 
the  sacred  books  with  them,  and  they  did  not 
forget  their  countrymen  left  in  Spain.  They 
printed  a  copy  of  the  Old  Testament  in  Spanish, 
at  Venice,  in  1497,  only  five  years  after  their 
exile.  Many  copies  of  this  precious  book  reached 
the  Jews  who  had  professed  Christianity ;  and 
among  them  this  copy  reached  my  grandmother, 
Costanza  Ortiz,  who  lived  in  this  house,  and  had 
this  cunning  place  made  for  it.  I  never  told 
you  before,  but  Costanza  Ortiz  was  suspected 
of  relapsing  to  Judaism,  and  your  grandfather, 
her  son-in-law,  my  father,  had  great  difficulty  in 
saving  our  family  from  the  disgrace  of  having 
her  bones  exhumed  and  burnt." 

"  But  was  she  indeed  no  Christian  ?"  I  asked. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  w^as  the  reply  ;  "  there  was 
little  in  the  kind  of  Christianity  they  forced  her 
to  profess,  to  make  her,  or  any  one,  understand 
what  Jesus  is — the  Christ,  the  true  Messiah." 

"  But  you  are  a  Christian,  mother,"  I  said. 
"  It  does  not  make  people  unchristian  to  read 
this  book,  or  you  would  not  put  it  in  my 
hands." 


THE   MARTYRS    OF   SPAIN.  37 

"  ISTo,  indeed,  dear  child,"  she  said,  with  a 
tendei"  smile ;  "  I  will  read  you  a  passage,  and 
you  shall  see." 

She  read  the  53d  of  'Isaiah  ;  and  from  that 
time  the  sacred  book  became  my  nightly  friend, 
but  only  at  night.  By  day  it  was  safely  restored 
to  its  retreat,  and  often,  as  the  panel  closed,  I 
longed  for  night  to  come  again  that  I  might  read. 

Still  there  were  many  parts  of  the  book  which 
rather  increased  my  trouble.  There  was  much 
about  anger  against  the  wicked,  and  judgment ; 
and  although  I  dimly  felt  there  was  a  connec- 
tion between  this  and  the  stories  about  the 
Saviour  which  might  help  me,  I  could  not  find 
the  link.  The  narratives  and  threats  of  judg- 
ment in  the  Old  Testament,  still  seemed  to  me 
terribly  to  explain  the  facts  of  my  life ;  whilst 
the  stories  of  healing  and  compassion  in  the  his- 
tory of  Jesus,  shone  like  a  beautiful  but  unearthly 
star  set  in  the  dark  night  of  the  world's  history. 

This  went  on  until  one  sleepless  night,  as  I 
leant  quietly  out  of  my  little  bed  and  pushed 
back  the  mysterious  panel  to  draw  out  my  com- 
panion, the  Castilian  Old  Testament,  my  hand 
touched  the  corner  of  another  book  instead. 
Curious  to  see  what  this  might  be,  I  drew  it  out, 
and  placing  it  beside  the  lamp  on  the  little  table 
by  my  bed,  began  to  read  it.  It  was  also  in 
Castilian.     My  eyes  rested  first  on  this  passage : 

"  Christ's  victory  is  the  overcoming  of  the  la.w 
of  sin,  our  fliesh,  the  world,  the  devil,  death, 
4 


38  THE   MAETTES    OF    SPAIN. 

hell,  and  all  evils;  and  this  victory  He  hath 
given  unto  us."  "  Although,  then,  these  tyrants 
and  these  enemies  of  ours  do  accuse  us,  and 
make  us  afraid,  yet  can  they  not  drive  us  to 
despair,  nor  condemn  us  ;  for  Christ,  whom  God 
the  Father  hath  raised  from  the  dead,  is  our 
righteousness  and  victory." 

"  For  indeed  Christ  is  no  cruel  exactor,  but  a 
Forffiver  of  the  sins  of  the  whole  world.  Where- 
fore  if  thou  be  a  sinner,  as  indeed  we  all  are,  set 
not  Christ  down  on  the  rainbow  throne  as  a 
Judge,  lest  thou  shouldst  be  terrified,  and  despair 
of  His  mercy  ;  but  take  hold  of  this  true  defini- 
tion, namely,  that  Christ  the  Son  of  God,  and  of 
the  Virgin,  is  a  person  not  that  terrifieth,  not 
that  afflicteth,  not  that  condemneth  us  of  sin,  not 
that  demandeth  of  us  an  account  for  our  evil  life 
passed,  but  hath  given  Himself  for  our  sins,  and 
with  one  oblation  hath  put  away  the  sins  of  the 
whole  world,  hath  fastened  them  upon  the  cross, 
and  put  them  clean  out  by  Himself." 

"  For  God  hath  revealed  unto  us  by  His  Word 
that  He  will  be  unto  us  a  merciful  Father,  and, 
■without  our  deserts  (seeing  we  can  deserve 
nothing),  will  freely  give  unto  us  remission  of 
sins,  righteousness,  and  life  everlasting,  for 
Christ  His  Son's  sake  ;  for  God  giveth  His  gifts 
freely  unto  all  men,  and  that  is  the  praise  and 
glory  of  His  divinity." 

"  Christ,  then,  is  no  Moses,  no  exactor,  no 
giver  of  laws ;  but  a  Giver  of  grace,  a  Saviour, 


■  THE    MARTYRS    OF    SPAIN.  39 

and  One  tliat  is  full  of  mercy  ;  briefly,  He  is 
nothing  else  but  infinite  mercy  and  goodness, 
freely  given,  and  bountifully  giving  unto  us. 
And  thus  shall  you  paint  out  Christ  in  his  true 
colours.  If  you  sufl'er  Him  any  otherwise  to  be 
painted  out  unto  you,  when  temptation  and 
trouble  cometh,  you  shall  soon  be  overthrown. 
Now,  as  it  is  the  greatest  knowledge  and  skill 
that  Christians  can  have  thus  to  define  Christ, 
so  of  all  things  it  is  the  hardest.  For  I  myself, 
even  in  this  great  light  of  the  Gosj^el  Avherein  I 
have  been  so  long  exercised,  have  much  ado  to 
hold  this  definition  of  Christ  which  Paul  here 
giveth,  so  deeply  hath  the  doctrine  and  pestilent 
opinion  that  Christ  is  a  Lawgiver,  entered  even  as 
it  were  oil,  into  my  bones.  You  young  men, 
therefore,  are  in  this  case  much  more  happy  than 
Ave  that  are  old  ;  for  ye  are  not  infected  with 
these  jDernicious  errors  wherein  I  have  been  so 
nursed  and  drowned,  even  from  my  youth,  that 
at  the  very  hearing  of  the  name  of  Christ  my 
heart  hath  quaked  for  fear,  for  I  was  persuaded 
that  He  was  a  severe  Judge.  Wherefore  it  is 
to  me  a  double  travail  and  trouble  to  correct 
and  reform  this  evil ;  first,  to  forget,  to  condemn 
and  to  resist  this  old-grounded  error  that  Christ 
is  a  Lawgiver  and  a  Judge,  for  it  always  re- 
turneth  and  plucketh  me  back  ;  then  to  plant  in 
my  heart  a  true  persuasion  of  Christ  that  He  is 
a  Justifier  and  a  Saviour.  Ye,  I  say,  that  are 
young,  may  learn  with  much  less  difticulty  to 


40  THE    MARTYRS    OF    SPAIIS". 

know  Christ  jourely  and  sincerely,  if  ye  will. 
Wherefore  if  any  man  feel  himself  oppressed 
with  heaviness  and  anguish  of  heart,  he  must  not 
impute  it  unto  Christ,  although  it  come  under 
the  name  of  Christ,  but  unto  the  Devil,  who 
oftentimes  cometh  under  the  colour  of  Christ, 
and  transformeth  himself  into  an  angel  of  light. 
Let  us  learn,  therefore,  to  put  a  difference  be- 
tween Christ  and  a  lawgiver,  not  only  in  word, 
but  also  in  deed  and  practice  ;  that  when  the 
Devil  comes  under  the  shadow  of  Christ,  and 
shall  go  about  to  trouble  us  under  His  name,  Ave 
may  know  Him  not  to  be  Christ,  but  a  A'ery 
fiend  indeed.  For  Christ,  Avhen  He  cometh,  is 
nothing  else  but  joy  and  sweetness  to  a  trem- 
bling and  broken  heart,  as  here  Paul  witnesseth, 
who  setteth  Him  out  with  His  most  sweet  and 
comfortable  title  Avhen  he  saith,  '  Which  loved 
vie  and  gave  Himself  for  me.''  Christ,  therefore, 
in  very  deed,  is  a  lover  of  those  which  are  in 
trouble  and  anguish,  in  sin  and  death ;  such  a 
lover  as  gave  Himself  for  us,  who  is  also  our 
High  Priest,  that  is  to  say,  a  Mediator  between 
God  and  us  Avretched,  miserable  sinners." 

"  I  am  covered  under  the  shadow  of  Christ's 
wings,  as  is  the  chicken  under  the  wings  of  the 
hen,  and  dwell  without  all  fear  under  that  most 
ample  heaven  of  the  forgiveness  of  sins." 

I  did  not  read  any  more.  The  volume  before 
me  did  not  seem  like  a  lifeless  book,  but  like  the 
voice  of  a  friend  who  had  known  all  my  perplex- 


THE   MAKTYES    OF    SPAI^ST.  41 

ities,  and  spoke  to  my  inmost  heart.  I  leant  mj 
head  on  the  pages  of  the  book  as  if  it  had  been 
a  living,  throbbing  heart,  and  resolved  to  try  to 
speak  to  Him  of  whom  it  spoke. 

I  had  always  daily  said  my  prayei'S,  and  de- 
voutly, I  believed,  as  a  religious  duty  which  was 
in  some  way  to  do  me  good  ;  but  that  night  I 
found  out  something  entirely  new  to  me.  I 
found  there  was  One  unseen  at  hand  who  could 
hear  the  cries  of  my  lieart,  and  that  this  One 
was  Love,  and  had  been  loving  me.  I  said, 
"  My  Saviour,  my  God,  hast  Thou  indeed  been 
loving  me  all  this  time,  and  drawing  me  to 
Thee,  whilst  I  thought  Thou  wast  my  adver- 
sary, and  driving  me  from  Thee  ?  I  come,  I  am 
Thine  ;  I  understand  Thee  now  ;  do  with  me 
what  Thou  wilt ;  I  am  not  afraid  of  Thee,  or  of 
any  thing  Thou  wilt  do  for  me." 

And  then  the  old  troubling  thouglit  came  on 
me,  illuminated  with  quite  a  new  meaning,  as  if 
I  had  suddenly  discovered  the  cipher  of  God's 
providence,  and  could  read  it  right : 

"  I  would  not  be  a  Santa,  a  holy  v/oman  of 
my  own  free  will ;  so  Thou  hast  laid  Thine  hand 
on  me,  and  will  make  me  holy  in  Thine  ow^n 
way.  My  Saviour  !  it  is  the  hand  which  was 
pierced  for  me  which  is  laid  on  me.  It  will  not 
be  too  heavy  ;  I  am  not  afraid.  Thou  shalt  be 
my  Physician ;  I  will  not  struggle  out  of  Thy 
hands." 

Thus  hours  passed  away,  until  a  feehng  of 
'     4* 


42  THE    MAETTKS    OF    SPAI^\ 

such  sweet  calm  came  over  me  as  when  first  I 
looked  up  and  met  my  mother's  eyes  after  my 
accident.  I  had  met  the  eyes  of  my  Father  in 
heaven,  of  my  Saviour  !  They  had  been  watch- 
ing me  longer  than  my  mother's. 

Before  morning  I  fell  asleep,  still  with  my 
arms  clasped  round  the  book,  and  my  forehead 
leaning  on  the  open  pages. 

I  was  awakened  by  my  mother's  touch.  She 
looked  anxious  and  alarmed  ;  but  I  drew  her 
face  down  to  mine,  and  said,  "  O  mother,  I  never 
■was  so  happy  in  my  life  ;  I  have  found  out  how 
God  loves  me  !"  She  mingled  her  tears  with 
mine,  and  I  continued,  "  This  suffering  of  mine 
is  not  in  anger,  it  is  in  love.  He  is  only  drawing 
me  nearer  to  Him  by  this  means.  I  thought  He 
was  angry  and  silent  to  me ;  but  at  last  I  under 
stand  Him,  and  I  am  so  happy." 

For  some  minutes  I  spoke  no  move,  and 
then  she  said, 

"  I  can  only^  give  thanks,  let  the  cost  be  what 
it  may  ;"  and  kneeling  down  beside  my  bed,  she 
prayed,  in  a  few  broken  words  : 

"  Better  than  all  gifts  thou  couldst  have  given 
my  child  is  this !  I  had  not  courage  to  unseal 
the  truth  to  her.  Forgive  me  !  Thou  hast  done 
it.  To  Thee  be  all  the  praise.  Thou  wilt  give 
us  all  the  strength  we  need,  for  Jesus'  sake. 

Then  she  rose  and  carefully  replaced  the  book 
in  its  hiding  place. 

"  What  danger,  what  cost  do  you  speak  of 
mother  ?"  I  whispered. 


THE    MARTYRS    OF    SPAIN.  43 

"  My  child,"  she  replied,  "  it  was  for  reading 
and  loving  that  book,  and  others  like  it,  that 
the  Inquisition  burnt  the  holy  martyr  of  God, 
Francisco  San  Roman." 

This  book  was  Martin  Luther's  "  Commentary 
on  the  E^Distle  to  the  Galatians,"  translated  into 
Castilian. 


44  THE   MAETYKS   OF   SPAIN". 


CHAPTER  III. 

riHRIST  is  the  door  of  the  fold.  The  Church 
^  is  not  the  door;  it  is  the  fold.  Not 
through  the  Church  do  we  come  to  Christ ; 
through  Christ  we  enter  the  Chui'ch,  one  by 
one.  We  come  to  Him  helpless,  destitute, 
guilt3\  He  receives  us,  takes  us  by  the  hand, 
and  leads  us  in.  And  then  we  find  ourselves  in 
a  new  world.  The  gate  is  strait ;  but  the 
fold  is  wide,  wide  as  the  world,  wide  as  heaven 
and  earth.  I  had  the  key  now,  and  I  knew 
what  those  mysterious  assemblies  in  our  house 
meant.  Henceforth  they  Avere  frequently  held  in 
the  room  in  which  my  couch  was  placed.  The 
books,  my  precious  midnight  companions,  Avere 
brought  from  their  concealment.  Our  hereditary 
Old  Testament  Avas  laid  reverently  on  a  table  be- 
fore Don  Domingo  de  Rojas,  with  the  illuminated 
Latin  Gospels,  and  he  read  a  psalm,  or  some 
chapters  from  the  Prophets,  and  translated  pas- 
sages from  the  Gospels,  sometimes  the  stories 
of  miracles  and  suffering  my  mother  had  told 
me,  and  sometimes  parables  which  were  new  to 
me.  And  then  all  knelt  together,  and  Don  Do- 
mingo prayed.    At  times  other  voices  Avould  join, 


THE  MAKTYKS    OF    SPAIN.  45 

and  among  them  my  uncles  Pedro  and  Francisco. 
The  prayers  were  very  simple,  in  few  Avords,  but 
fervent,  as  if  spoken  "  seeing  Ilim"  who,  "  invisi- 
ble," surely  was  in  the  midst  of  us. 

I  had  recei\-ed  the  key  to  the  living  Church, 
and  to  the  Bible.  And  that  key  was  the  cross. 
'■'■He  loved  jyic,  and  gave  Himself  for  hie.''''  There 
was  nothing  in  my  conversion  peculiar  to  my 
position  in  the  Roman  Church.  All  men  and 
women  in  all  external  churches,  or  out  of  all, 
need  it  equally.  It  was  simply  that  I  threw 
aside  Satan's  lie  about  God,  and  believed  God's 
truth  about  Himself  I  had  learnt  that  God  is 
not  only  the  Friend  of  man,  the  bountiful  Giver 
of  all  good — (the  truth  of  Eden  ;)  but  that  He  has 
delivered  up  His  Son  for  us  all,  making  peace 
with  us  through  the  blood  of  His  cross — the 
truth  for  a  fallen  world,  the  truth  Avhich  will 
make  the  paradise  above  more  blessed  than  ever 
Eden  was.  The  Roman  doctrines  had  never 
troubled  me ;  my  mother  had  not  inculcated 
them.  To  the  outward  ceremonies  and  ordi- 
nances of  the  Roman  Church  we  had  always  con- 
formed ;  nor  do  I  know  that  the  truth  which  had 
set  my  inmost  heart  at  liberty  Avould  have  made 
it  difficult  for  me  to  conform  with  them  still. 
My  mind  was  neither  skeptical  nor  logical.  I 
was  content  to  receive  many  things  as  a  matter 
of  course,  setting  my  own  meaning  on  them 
when  I  could,  and  when  I  could  not  make  them 
correspond  with  my  faith,  simply  not  regarding 


46  THE    MxVRTYKS    OF    SPAIN. 

them  at  all.  I,  and  countless  others  like  me, 
would  never  have  attempted  any  change  in  the 
external  church,  if  the  Church  would  have  let  us 
and  our  Bibles  alone.  For  instance,  once  or 
twice  after  this  I  was  carried  to  hear  mass  in 
the  cathedral.  I  had  no  more  thought  of  ques- 
tioning why  all  that  elaborate  ceremonial  was 
gone  through  than  of  questioning  why  the  sun^ 
rose  later  in  Winter  than  in  Summer.  I  no  more 
thought  of  speculating  as  to  the  mode  in  which 
Christ  was  present  in  the  sacrament  than  of  the 
mode  in  which  my  body  and  soul  were  united. 
That  my  Saviour  was  present  with  my  heart,  and 
that  His  presence  was  the  joy  of  my  heart,  1 
knew ;  and  the  rest  was  all  to  me  music  and  so- 
lemnity, and  a  halo  of  soft  religious  light  encir- 
cling the  secret  treasure  within.  So  with  con- 
fession. I  continued  to  confess  to  my  director, 
Don  Domingo,  for  some  time,  and  should  proba- 
bly have  continued  doing  so,  if  I  had  not  been 
taught  otherwise,  until  this  day.  My  Saviour 
was  nearer  to  me  than  any  priest,  and  to  Him  in 
my  heart  I  confessed,  and  from  his  lips  I  received 
the  absolution.  It  is  often  a  comfort  to  me  to 
remember  this,  because  I  think  there  may  be 
many  such  unquestioning  believing  souls  still  in 
my  country  amongst  those  who  never  became 
Protestants,  or  amongst  those  whom  a  cruel 
combination  of  terror  and  subtle  arguments  in- 
duced to  recant. 

It  was  the  Bible,  through  the  interpretation 


THE   MARTYRS    OF   SPAIN.  47 

of  3[arlin  Luther,  which  made  me  a  rejoicing 
Christian.  It  was  the  Inquisition  which  made 
me  a  Protestant.  There  were  many  in  Arragon, 
Castile,  AndaUisia,  and  throughout  Spain,  led 
like  me,  and  many  led  in  other  ways.  It  is  such 
frafrments  of  their  histories  as  I  have  learned  or 
known  that  I  now  gather  together.  The  move- 
ment had  passed  from  my  own  life,  and  for  the 
next  ten  years  I  lived  but  in  the  life  of  those 
around  me,  of  the  small  but  energetic  company 
of  the  Reformed  Christians  of  Spain. 

There  were  two  principal  centres  of  the  Ref- 
ormation in  Spain  ;  one  in  Seville,  where  I 
passed  some  of  the  last  of  those  ten  years,  and 
one  in  Yalladolid.  The  gathering-places  of  the 
Protestants  in  both  these  cities  were  in  the  pri- 
vate houses  of  widows  of  rank  and  Avealth. 
That  in  Seville  was  in  the  house  of  Isabel  de 
Baena ;  that  at  Valladolid  in  the  house  of  my 
grandmother,  Leanor  de  Vibero,  afterwards  the 
property  of  my  uncle,  Augustin  de  Tibero  Ca- 
zalla,  and  the  residence  of  my  mother. 

The  first  pastor  of  the  Reformed  Church  at 
Yalladolid  was  Don  Domingo  de  Rojas.  He 
was  a  younger  son  of  the  first  Marquis  de  Poza, 
and  had  become  a  monk  of  the  Domuiican  order. 
He  was  still  young  when  the  auto  took  place  in 
which  San  Roman  was  burnt.  He  had  been  a 
pupil  of  that  strange  man  wliose  course  per- 
])lexed  us  all  so  much.  Fray  Bartolomo  Carranza, 
afterwards    Archbishop    of   Toledo,    the    man 


48  THE    MARTYRS    OF    SPAIN. 

whose  evangelical  teaching  led  so  many  to  em- 
brace Protestanism,  yet  who  himself  is  detested 
in  England  as  "  The  Black  Friar,"  on  account  of 
his  active  share  in  the  j^ersecutions  in  Queen 
Mary's  reign,  the  friend  of  the  Protestants  in 
Sj^ain,  the  burner  of  Protestants  in  England ; 
the  preacher  of  the  sermon  at  the  martyrdom 
of  San  Roman,  and  himself  a  prisoner  of  the 
Inquisition  on  accusation  of  heresy  for  seven- 
teen years,  submitting  at  last  to  a  recantation  or 
public  penance  at  Kome,  from  the  effects  of 
which,  it  is  said,  he  died. 

Fray  Carranza  taught  Don  Domingo  de  Ro- 
jas  much  of  the  living  truth  of  justification  by 
faith  in  Chi'ist,  and  then  exhorted  him  to  be  pru- 
dent, and  to  run  no  risks.  He  might  as  well 
have  planted  a  young  oak  in  a  frail  glass  vase, 
and  exhorted  it  not  to  injure  the  glass.  Six 
members  of  Don  Domingo's  own  family,  and 
other  noble  families  connected  with  his,  suffered  in 
various  ways  in  the  antos  of  15G0.  Don  Domingo 
himself  wrote  books  which  edified  us  much ; 
but  he  did  more  by  circulating  among  us  the 
works  of  Valdes,  the  Secretary  of  the  Viceroy 
of  Naples  ;  and  translations  in  Castilian  of  the 
writings  of  the  great  German  and  Swiss  Reform- 
ers, such  as  that  commentary  on  the  Galatiaiis 
which  had  proved  such  a  treasure  to  me.  It 
was  Don  Domingo  who  m".de  me  understand 
how  contrary  the  sacrifices  of  the  mass  and  the 
doctrine  of  purgatory  are   to  the  truth  of  the 


THE    MARTYRS    OF   SPAIN.  49 

fiuishec^  sacrifice  and  redemption  of  our  Sav- 
iour. 

No  one  can  understand  the  treasure  these  for- 
eign books  were  to  us.  Most  of  them  were 
printed  in  the  Low  Countries.  I  shall  never  for- 
get the  joy  of  our  little  company  at  the  arrival 
of  one  packet. 

One  evening  when  we  were  assembled  to- 
gether for  reading  and  prayer,  my  mother  was 
summoned  from  the  room  to  superintend  the 
unpacking  of  "  a  packet  of  dresses  and  lace  just 
arrived  from  France."  A  look  of  understand- 
ing passed  from  one  to  another ;  but  no  one  said 
any  thing,  until  my  mother  returned  with  a  little 
dwarf  of  a  muleteer  staggering  under  the  weight 
of  a  package  larger  than  himself.  "  Julianillo  ! 
Julianillo  !"  bursted  in  delighted  surprise  from 
the  lips  of  all  present.  Don  Domingo,  the  dig- 
nified Don  Carlos  de  Seso,  and  his  wife,  the 
Princess  Isabella  of  Castile,  to  my  surprise, 
arose  to  greet  the  stranger,  and  eagerly  relieved 
him  of  his  load.  The  noblemen  embraced  him ; 
.Don  Domingo  called  him  brother;  Don  Carlos 
exclaimed  he  was  a  greater  hero  than  the  Cid 
Campeador ;  "  because,"  he  said,  "  you,  Don 
Hernandez,  fight  single-handed,  your  dangers 
are  tenfold  greater,  your  reward  is  nothing- 
earthly,  your  cause  the  noblest  in  heaven  or 
earth." 

The  little  man  seemed  overwhelmed  for  an  in- 
stant ;  but  with  the  native  dignity  of  a  Castilian 
5 


50  THE    MAKTTES    OF    SPAIN. 

peasant,  and  tlie  lowly  dignity  of  a  Christian,  he 
soon  recovered  himself. 

"  I  am  only  Julian  the  Little,"  he  said  ;  "  my 
chief  qualification  for  my  sei-vice  is  my  small- 
ness.  People  look  on  me  with  a  good-natured 
compassion,  and  suspect  no  harm  from  such  an 
insignificant  creature.  Many  a  custom-house 
officer  has  condescendingly  assisted  me  to  carry 
the  very  wares  he  was  most  strenuously  en- 
joined to  exclude  ;  and  many  a  time  have  I  lain 
concealed  in  holes  and  corners  into  which  no 
mortal  of  ordinary  size  could  have  squeezed 
himself." 

"  But  your  name  must  become  known  at 
last,"  said  my  mother,  kindly  ;  "  you  must  be 
careful,  Don  Hernandez." 

"  What  could  sustain  you  in  such  perils,"  said 
Don  Carlos,  "  but  a  faith  such  as,  perhaps,  few 
of  us  possess !" 

"  Do  not  give  me  credit  for  too  much,  gentle- 
men," was  the  reply  ;  "  my  faith  is  weak  indeed. 
Many  a  time  my  heart  has  almost  ceased  to  beat 
as  I  lay  concealed,  and  almost  felt  the  breath  of 
those  who  were  searching  the  house  for  forbid- 
den wares  on  my  face." 
"  Yet  you  continue  ?" 

"  God  keeps  me,"  he  said  solemnly ;  "  and  be- 
sides," he  added  gaily,  "  do  you  think  there  is 
no  pleasure  in  seeing  a  good-natured  brawny 
soldier  help  me  in  carrying  for  a  mile  the  very 
wares  he  was  on  guard  to  keep  out,  or  in  re- 


THE   MARTYRS    OP   SPAIN.  51 

ceiving  the  confidences  of  the  custom-house  offi- 
cers as  to  certain  dangerous  persons  who  are  cu'- 
culating  heretical  books  and  poisoning  the  very- 
heart  of  Spain  ?     But  enougli  about  me." 

Meantime  the  precious  package  had  been  un- 
corded and  opened ;  and  scattered  on  the  floor 
lay  pamphlets  and  books,  the  discovery  of  any 
one  of  which  amongst  us  would  have  sent  the 
whole  company  to  the  prisons  of  the  Inquisition 
or  the  Brasero. 

I  often  wonder  whether  the  excitement  of 
these  difficulties  did  not  give  a  zest  to  the  read- 
ing of  the  books.  Bibles,  in  Dutch,  are  now 
read  openly  in  every  parish  church  in  Holland  ; 
but  I  scarcely  see  such  eagerness  to  read  them 
any  where  as  then  among  us  in  Spain, 

In  this  package  were  several  copies  of  the 
most  precious  book  of  all,  the  New  Testament, 
translated  into  Castilian  by  our  countryman, 
Francisco  de  Enzina:^  'or  Dryander),  at  Louvain. 
The  copy  which  became  our  especial  property, 
happened  to  be  one  of  those  original  ones  which 
had  been  submitted  to  the  censure  of  the  monks 
of  Louvain,  and  contained  in  the  title-page  the 
original  title,  with  the  cancellings  insisted  on  by 
the  monks — "  The  New  Testament,  that  is,  the 
New  Covenant  of  our  only  Redeemer  and 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  translated  from  Greek  into 
the  Castilian  lano-uas^e."  The  friars  had  insisted 
on  having  the  words,  "  New  Covenant"  and 
"  only,"  cancelled  as  heretical ;  and  to  me  these 


62  THE    MARTYES    OF    SPAIN. 

cancellings  Avere  so  many  emphatic  marks. 
How  often  have  I  pressed  that  book  to  my  heart 
with  the  adoring  thought,  "  Our  only  Redeemer 
and  Saviour,  Jesus  Christ !" 

Those  books  were  the  jDrecious  seeds  of  new 
life  to  many.  How  many,  tlie  Day  alone  can  de- 
clare !  But  the  fires  of  the  Inquisition  have  re- 
vealed hundreds. 

Those  present  at  our  house  that  night,  leaving 
at  different  times,  and  by  different  doors  in  order 
to  avoid  suspicion,  bore  away  with  them  copies 
of  the  New  Testament,  of  some  treatise  of 
Valdes,  or  of  the  German  Reformers.  They 
reached  the  interior  of  many  convents,  especially 
the  nunnery  of  Santa  Clara  and  the  Cistercian 
convent  of  San  Belen.  A  great  number  of  these 
sisters  embraced  the  Reformed  doctrine  ;  and 
besides  these,  of  devout  and  honorable  women, 
not  a  few,  especially  among  the  Beatas,  or 
women  who  had  learned  the  vanity  of  the  world 
and  devoted  themselves  to  works  of  mercy, 
without  binding  themselves  with  any  monastic 
rule. 

Many  a  history  has  been  poured  into  my  ears 
as  I  lay  on  my  little  bed.  From  so  many  sides, 
by  such  varied  attractions,  people  were  led  into 
the  light.  To  some  it  was  chiefly  a  setting  at 
liberty  from  bondage  ;  to  others,  an  opening  of 
blind  eyes  to  the  wonders  of  a  new  world  of 
love  and  light ;  to  others  again,  a  breathing  of 
the  breath  of  life  into  a  framework  of  inanimate 


THE    MARTYRS    OF    SRAIN.  53 

and  disconnected  duties  ;  to  all,  in  some  measure, 
all  of  these. 

The  majority  of  the  converts  were  among  the 
young  and  the  highly  cultivated.  Some  came 
back  from  the  mercantile  expeditions  to  Ger- 
many and  the  Netherlands  impressed  with  the 
new  doctrine.  Many  more  of  the  courtiers  in 
the  suite  of  the  Emperor  Charles  and  of  King 
Philip  brought  back  the  evangelical  truth  from 
Brussels  or  from  London.  Not  a  few  who  had 
been  appointed  to  refute  the  Protestants  in  Ger- 
many, or  to  persecute  them  in  England,  returned 
to  Spain,  convinced  by  the  arguments  they  had 
vainly  tried  to  answer,  or  the  enduring  faith 
they  had  vainly  sought  to  extinguish.  Two 
chaplains  of  the  Emperor  Charles  were  among 
these ;  one,  Constantine  Ponce  de  la  Fuente  of 
Seville,  and  the  other,  my  own  uncle,  Augustin 
Cazalla,  second  and  last  pastor  of  the  Reformed 
Church  at  Yalladolid. 

jMany  others  were  led  to  embrace  the  Protes- 
tant side  by  the  reports  which  began  to  be  cir- 
culated through  the  country  of  the  abuses  of  the 
Council  of  Trent  by  the  Spanish  bishoj^s  who 
had  attended  it. 

Youth,  rank,  enlightenment,  learning,  all  that 
was  aspiring  and  free  in  thouglit,  all  that  was 
noble  and  truthful  in  character,  were  on  our  side. 
The  Reform  was  the  advanced  post  of  the  age ; 
the  Bible,  and  the  thoughts  of  the  Reformers 
about  it,  was  the  newest  literature  of  the  gener- 
5* 


54  THE    JMAETYES    OF    SPAIN". 

ation  ;  and  what  this  might  have  developed  into, 
had  it  been  allowed  free  development,  I  cannot 
say.  Persecution  consecrated  the  best,  and 
crushed  the  rest.  But  there  was  a  healthy,  joy- 
ous excitement,  a  morning  freshness  in  those 
years,  when  truth  was  a  new  thing,  dear  for  its 
freshness  as  well  as  for  itself.  The  names  I 
mention  are  all  the  names  of  martyrs  ;  some  who 
sealed  their  testimony  with  life,  and  some  who 
still  perhaps  are  suffering  for  their  convictions 
in  dungeons  and  monastic  cells,  if  anv  such  are 
indeed  yet  left  on  earth.  God  help  them  if  such 
there  are ! 

Dona  Ana  Henriquez  de  Rojas,  one  of  Don 
Domingo's  family,  would  often  come  and  read 
with  me.  She  would  read  the  books  we  loved 
in  Latin,  and  would  often  translate  to  me,  or 
vary  the  hours  by  singing  to  the  accompani- 
ment of  her  harp.  She  was  young  then,  and 
was  afterwards  married  to  Don  Juan  Alonso  de 
Fonseca  Mexia. 

For  I  must  not  give  the  impression  that  the 
Keformed  religion  was  the  one  only  purpose  and 
thought  of  those  around  me.  Human  life  was 
ever  flowing  on  with  its  deep  current  of  feeling, 
its  little  eddies  of  perplexity  and  trial,  its  silent 
places  in  the  shadows,  and  its  joyous  music  in 
the  sunshine.  Only  the  great  chasm  Avhich 
swallow^ed  up  all  those  various  streams  at  once, 
often  drowns  to  my  memory,  in  the  roar  of  its 
terrible  fall,  all  the  changes  that  came  before. 


THE    MARTYKS    OF    SPAIX.  55 

But  no  one  round  me  then  had  any  more  con- 
ception of  that  catastrophe  than  the  quiet  stream 
a  mile  above  some  great  falls  of  what  awaits  it. 
Every  day  was  as  every  day  to  us  then  as  to  me 
now;  only  the  joys  and  cares  of  every  day  were 
bright  with  the  new  light  from  heaven,  and 
with  new  and  glorious  hopes  for  the  desimy  of 
Spain. 

About  the  year  1562,  six  or  seven  years  after 
that  martyrdom  of  San  Roman  which  awakened 
so  many  a  dreaming  heart  among  us,  and  burst 
the  icy  spell  of  reserve  which  had  concealed  us 
from  each  other,  my  uncle,  Augustin  Cazalla, 
chaplain  to  the  Emperor  Charles,  returned  from 
the  Netherlands,  and  settled  at  Salamanca.  Of- 
ten, however,  he  used  to  come  and  cheer  us  with 
tidino-s  from  the  countries  where  the  Reforma- 
tion  had  originated,  and  was  now  openly  ac- 
knowledged. Listening  to  his  narratives,  I  used 
to  picture  to  myself  the  German  cities  as  so 
many  antitypes  of  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  full 
of  holy  light,  and  happy  beings  rejoicing  in  it. 
He  had  much  to  tell  us  also  of  our  countrymen 
who  had  joined  the  Reformed  churches  ;  of  the 
three  brothers  Enzinas  (or  Dryander,  as  they 
were  called  among  the  community  of  the 
learned),  the  evergreen  oaks  of  Spain — Jayme, 
martyred  at  Rome,  whither  he  had  repaired  in 
obedience  to  his  father  ;  Juan,  medical  professor 
at  Marburg  ;  I'rancisco,  whose  translation  of 
the  New  Testament  was  |uy  most  precious  treas- 


56  THE    MAETYRS    OF    SPAIX. 

ure.  The  history  of  these  three  brothers  seemed 
to  nie  like  those  of  the  brother  Apostles  in  the 
Gospels  ;  and  I  often  thought  how  it  showed 
that  the  same  gracious  Son  of  Man,  who  called 
His  disciples  of  old  in  pai.  s,  two  brothers  or  two 
bosom  friends,  Avas  ruling  His  Church  still.  It 
is  remarkable  among  our  Spanish  martyrs  how 
many  were  of  the  same  family. 

Then  there  was  the  marvellous  escape  of  Fran- 
cisco Enzinas.  Imprisoned  for  fifteen  months  at 
Brussels  by  the  Emperor,  who  had  previously 
received  his  translation  of  the  Testament  with 
apparent  favour,  one  day  he  found  the  jjrison- 
doors  open,  no  one  could  ever  explain  how,  and 
walking  out  without  any  hindrance,  made  his 
way  unopposed  and  undetected,  through  hosts 
of  spies,  police,  and  soldiers,  to  Wittenberg, 
although  the  portraits  of  the  Reformed  preachers 
were  exhibited  every  where  in  the  Netherlands, 
with  rewards  set  On  their  heads.  I  had  no  more 
doubt  that  it  was  an  angel's  hand  who  opened 
those  doors,  and  guided  the  servant  of  God  to 
the  i^lace  of  refuge,  than  when  I  read  a  similar 
history  of  St.  Peter  in  the  Castilian  version  of 
the  same  Enzinas. 

Then  there  was  the  tragic  story  of  two  other 
Sjianish  brothers,  Alfonso  and  Juan  Diaz.  Juan 
was  led  to  embrace  the  evangelical  doctrine  by 
the  martyr  Jayme  Enzinas.  His  brother  Alfonso 
continued  an  adherent  of  the  Roman  faith.  Af- 
ter vainly  endeavouring  to  win   back  Juan   to 


THE   MAETTES    OF   SPAIK.  57 

tLe  Church,  Alfonso  changed  his  manner,  arid 
professed  to  be  moved  by  Juan's  arguments. 
Whilst  pretending  this  interest,  he  was  trying 
by  a]l  kinds  of  treacherous  plans  to  tempt  the 
unsuspecting  Juan  into  Italy  into  the  hands  of 
the  priests.  Failing  in  these  plans,  he  professed 
to  take  an  increasing  interest  in  Juan's  pleadings 
from  the  Scriptures,  and  at  length  parted  from 
him,  expressing  the  warmest  gratitude  for  his 
spiritual  teaching,  and  forcing  on  him  a  sum  of 
money.  One  night,  not  many  days  after  this, 
when  Juan  was  peacefully  asleep  in  his  lodging 
at  Neuburg,  Alfonso  arrived  at  the  gate,  and 
sent  up  a  letter  to  his  brother.  Scarcely  staying 
to  dress,  Juan  joyfully  hurried  out  to  meet  his 
brother — a  brother,  he  hoped,  indeed  in  Christ. 
He  met  an  assassin  in  the  bearer  of  Alfonso's 
letter,  and  fell  under  one  stroke  of  his  axe. 
Alfonso  had  waited  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  to 
assist  in  the  murder,  if  necessary.  But  it  Avas 
not  necessary.  Juan  had  too  entirely  trusted 
him  to  attempt  any  defense.  All  the  efforts  of 
the  Protestant  princes  could  obtain  no  justice 
for  this  deed.  The  fratricide  appeared  openly  at 
the  Council  of  Trent,  and  in  the  best  society  at 
Rome.  "  Brother  astainst  brother."  The  words 
started  up  in  terrible  reality  to  me  whenever  I 
read  them  afterwards. 

My  uncle  Augustin  also  preached  more  than 
once  before  the  abdicated  Emperor  at  his  retreat 
at  St.  Juste.     The  Emperor  could  not  have  had 


58  THE    MARTYRS    OF    SPAIX. 

.1  keen  scent  in  detecting  heresy,  since  three  at 
least  of  his  favourite  preachers — Augustin  Ca- 
zalla,  Constantine  Ponce  de  la  Fuente,  and  Arch- 
bishop Carranza — were  so  deeply  tinged  with 
it. 


THE   MARTYRS    OF   SPAIN.  59 


CHAPTER  IV. 

rrPIE  year  1555  was  a  year  ric^.  in  happy  inter- 
-^  course  to  me.  It  was  five  years  after  my 
accident,  and  my  strength  began  to  revive.  I 
was  able,  with  assistance,  to  leave  the  house; 
and  it  was  like  having  the  visions  of  a  romance 
transformed  into  realities  to  go  and  visit  in  their 
homes  those  whose  histories  had  become  so 
familiar  to  me  on  my  bed  of  suffering.  How 
wide  the  world  seemed  to  me  after  that  lonor 
imprisonment ! 

The  city  of  Yalladolid  seemed  to  have  become 
a  consecrated  place  since  last  I  walked  in  its 
streets.  The  Great  Square  was  the  most  sacred 
place  of  all  to  me,  hallowed,  not  so  much  by  the 
shadow  of  the  great  church  as  by  the  memory 
of  that  one  despised,  forsaken  man,  in  a  yellow 
dress  of  infamy,  whose  heroic  endurance  had 
been  the  spark  which  enkindled  so  many  hearts 
around  me. 

Then  the  grim  walls  of  the  prisons  of  the  In- 
quisition had  a  terrible  interest  for  us ;  there  San 
Roman  had  been  tortured,  not  accepting  deliv- 
erance, whilst  the  walls  of  two  convents,  that  of 
St.  Catharine  and  San  Belen,  scarcely  less  grim 


60  ^  THE    MARTYRS    OF    SPAIN. 

outwardly,  were  to  me  but  the  rough  caskets  of 
precious  jewels  of  God ;  for  in  St.  Catharine 
dwelt  the  Lady  Maria  deKojas,  one  of  the  many 
amonsist  Don  Dominojo's  kindred  whom  the 
truth  had  set  free ;  and  in  San  Belen  dwelt  seven 
nuns  whose  names  I  knew  well,  and  recognized 
too  well  when  I  heard  of  them  in  after  years  as 
victims  at  the  great  anto.  Seven  nuns — seven 
martyrs  not  in  any  Roman  Calendar — seven 
names  written  in  heaven  ! 

Then  there  was  the  Brasero,  without  the 
walls,  where  San  Roman  had  perished  in  1>he 
flames,  leaving  us,  as  his  last  testimony,  the  proof 
what  Christ  can  make  death  by  fire  to  those  who 
love  Him.  There  the  stake  had  been  raised ; 
there  the  flames  had  raged ;  there  the  glorious 
words  had  been  heard,  as  they  thrust  him  back 
to  be  stifled  in  the  smoke,  "  Did  you  envy  me 
my  happiness  f 

Yes,  these  were  consecrated  places  to  us  at 
Valladolid,  consecrated  by  martyrs'  ashes.  There 
are  more  now,  but  the  worshippers  are  gone. 
Honour  to  the  Royal  Guards  who  dared  to 
gather  San  Roman's  ashes  as  sacred  relics,  and 
were  imprisoned  for  it !  and  to  the  English  Am- 
bassador, who  was  banished  many  months  from 
the  Spanish  Court  for  honouring  in  like  manner 
those  poor  charred  bones  ! 

My  mother  thought  at  this  time  my  health 
might  be  entirely  restored  by  change  of  scene 
and  air.     Accordingly,  I  was  sent  on  a  tour  to 


THE    MARTYilS    OF    SrAIJ^T.  61 

various  places  in  the  kingdom  of  Leon  and  the 
Castiles,  where  ^ve  had  relations  and  friends. 

My  aunt  Beatrix's  faithful  servant,  Anton 
Minguez,  was  to  be  my  muleteer  and  guard,  and 
my  dear  sister  Costanza  my  companion.  This 
younger  sister,  who  had  been  so  narrowly  saved 
from  the  accident  which  had  crippled  me,  was 
bound  to  me  by  many  ties.  She  persisted,  and 
persists  still,  in  regarding  her  life  as  purchased 
by  my  sufferings,  because,  by  a  natural  instinct, 
I  thought  of  saving  the  little  helpless  one  before 
I -secured  myself.  She  had  been  the  first,  excej)t 
my  mother,  to  be  admitted  to  my  sick-room. 
Her  little  loving  ways  soothed  me  better  than 
my  medicines  ;  and  her  bright  childish  looks,  as 
I  recovered,  were  to  me  for  many  months  instead 
of  sunshine,  and  flowers,  and  birds,  and  all  the 
bright  natural  things  I  was  debarred  from.  And 
when  the  sunshine  from  heaven  entered  my  heart, 
and  it  became  summer  there,  I  had  something  to 
give  her  back.  I  taught  her  to  read  from  the 
New  Testament ;  and  from  the  Gospels  she 
learned  to  love  Him  who.  is  Himself  the  glad 
tidings,  in  Himself  at  once  the  Word  of  life,  the 
Life,  our  Summer,  and  our  Sun. 

To  me  Costanza  was  at  once  a  sister  and  a 
child ;  and  a  happier  little  i^arty  never  set  out 
than  we  three  that  day  from  our  house  in  Val- 
ladolid.  My  mother  watched  us  from  the  door. 
On  her  face  was  a  shade  of  anxiety,  which  shad- 
owed my  own  heart  a  little ;  but  I  said  to  her  ; 
6 


62  THE    MARTTES    OF    SPAIN. 

"  Mother,  I  shall  come  back  the  strongest  of 
your  thirteen." 

My  holies  overcame  her  fears,  and  she  fol- 
lowed ns  with  smiles. 

A  baggage-mule  preceded  us,  and  we  rode, 
basque-fashion,  on  a  kind  of  pannier  or  cushion 
on  each  side  of  the  mule.  Anton  walked  be- 
side us. 

Our  first  halt  was  at  my  foster-mother's. 
She  had  grown  aged ;  but  she  tottered  from  her 
seat  in  the  doorway  when  she  heard  the  steps  of 
our  mule,  and  was  watching  us  Avhen  we  came 
in  sight. 

"  My  darling  has  come  back,"  she  said,  with 
the  forgetfulness  of  time  which  so  often  heralds 
our  ceasing  to  have  to  do  with  time.  "  She  has 
forgiven  her  poor  old  Antonia  at  last." 

"  O  Antonia,  I  had  nothing  to  forgive !  You 
meant  it  all  so  kindly  ;  and  you  were  right,  after 
all,  when  you  tried  to  comfort  me  by  saying  San 
Roman  did  not  suffer  so  much.  You  remember 
he  was  happy  in  the  fire."     - 

"  Say  it  again,  darling.  Indeed,  I  meant  him 
no  harm.  I  did  not  take  a  stick  to  those  dread- 
ful faggots.  Say  it  again,  darling.  Was  he 
happy  in  spite  of  all  ?  then  God  will  forgive  me. 
Do  you  think  he  is  in  heaven  after  all,  and  will 
ask  the  blessed  Lord  to  forgive  me?" 

It  was  quite  hopeless  to  disentangle  Antonia's 
ideas.  I  could  only  tell  her,  for  the  hundredth 
time,  about  the  dying  martyr  of  old,  the  first, 


<    THE   MAKTTES    OF   SPAIN.  63 

and  of  liis  last  words,  "  Lord,  lay  not  this  sin  to 
their  charge."  She  responded,  as  so  often  be- 
fore, "  Lord,  lay  not  this  sin  to  my  charge  ;"  and 
I  told  her  the  blessed  Saviour  was  infinitely 
more  compassionate  than  Stephen  or  San  Ro- 
man. And  she  Avould  drink  in  the  comfort  for 
the  time,  until  I  came  again,  and  the  old  distress 
returned,  and  the  old  history  brought  the  same 
consolation. 

But  at  last  one  day,  not  long  after  this,  before 
we  returned  to  Valladolid,  a  gleam  of  sudden 
light  seemed  to  come  into  her  poor  confused 
mind ;  and  she  rose  in  her  bed,  and  told  those 
around  her  the  whole  story  of  dying  Stephen, 
which  she  still  strangely  blended  with  that  of 
San  Roman ;  and  adding,  as  usual,  "  Lord,  lay 
not  this  sin  to  my  charge,"  she  fell  back  and 
died." 

And  I  feel  sure  that  the  old  distress  will  never 
return  to  her  now,  and  that  nothing  shall  be  laid 
to  her  charge  forever,  "  for  it  is  Christ  that 
died." 

We  rested  some  little  time  at  the  garden,  and 
partook  of  some  raisins  dried  from  the  grapes 
of  the  preceding  Autumn.  It  was  new  to  Cos- 
tanza,  and  her  enjoyment  of  every  thing  redoubled 
mine. 

Our  destination  was  Toro.  Our  road  lay  for 
a  great  part  of  the  way,  along  the  banks  of  the 
Duero.  The  undulating  plain  over  which  we 
passed  was  green  with  the  delicious  green  of 


04  THE    MAKTYES    Oi'    SPAIX. 

young  corn.  It  was  like  a  healing  dew  to  my 
eyes,  refreshing  as  sleep,  after  the  hot  white 
walls  of  the  town.  We  rode  on  in  silence. 
There  Avas  little  variety,  only  the  undulating- 
green  i^lain,  one  gentle  swell  following  another 
like  the  sea — a  sea  of  verdure,  in  which  my  eyes 
bathed  ;  the  plain,  and  the  river  silently  flowing 
on  by  our  side,  and  in  the  distance,  occasionally 
a  low  outline  of  brown  hills,  which  towards 
evening  grew  golden.  But  some  one  had  once 
told  me  that  the  plains  around  Valladolid  re- 
minded him  of  parts  of  the  Holy  Land,  the 
plains  of  Jezreel  or  Sharon ;  and  all  day  my 
heart  was  full  of  happy  memories  of  Him  who 
walked  with  twelve  through  the  corn-fields  and 
was  baptized  in  the  river.  As  one  white  village 
or  another  nestled  in  the  hollows,  or  crowned 
some  rising  of  the  plain,  or  gleamed  from  the 
sides  of  the  more  distant  hills,  I  wondered  if 
they  were  like  Xain,  or  Bethany,  or  Xazareth. 

At  times  I  spoke  to  Costanza,  or  to  Anton,  of 
the  thoughts  of  which  my  heart  was  full. 

"  How  delightful  it  is,  Anton,"  I  said,  "  that 
we  are  told  so  much  of  our  Saviour  in  the  Gos- 
pels ;  of  His  daily  life,  His  conversations  with 
His  friends,  as  well  as  His  great  sermons  to  the 
multitude  !  And  then  to  think  that  He  is  the 
same  for  ever  !  It  was  after  his  death  and  res- 
urrection, you  know,  that  He  joined  the  two  dis- 
ciples going  to  Emmaus,  and  made  their  hearts 
burn  with  His  words." 


THE    MAETYKS    OF   SPAIN.  65 

Sometimes  Anton  listened,  and  seemed  to  de- 
light in  the  Bible  narratives  I  told  him ;  but  at 
length,  after  we  had  gone  on  some  time  in  si- 
lence, he  said  spontaneously,  in  rather  an  abrupt 
tone  : 

"  I  like  these  new  doctrines  very  well,  Dona 
Dolores  ;  but  I  must  say  I  cannot  see  why  peo- 
ple cannot  keep  them  a  little  more  to  themselves. 
There  is  the  great  Doctor  Juan  Gil  of  Seville, 
whom  they  call  Egidius  ;  he  has  been  imprisoned 
three  yeai*s  by  the  Inquisition,  just  for  speaking 
of  these  things,  and  is  only  just  now  they  say, 
set  free.  I  am  often  afraid  some  such  trouble 
will  come  to  our  house,  and  it  poisons  all  my 
life  when  I  think  of  it.  We  cannot  think  too 
much,  or  say  too  little  of  these  things.  That  is 
my  creed.  There  are  eyes  in  Spain  besides  the 
angels'  that  never  sleep.  Walls  have  ears. 
When  people  live  over  a  iDowder-magazine,  it  is 
not  safe  to  let  every  child  carry  a  light." 

With  these  sententious  and  rather  inconsrruous 
images  Anton  very  nearly  silenced  me  ;  but 
Costanza  took  up  arms  in  what  she  thought  my 
defense. 

"  Our  Lord  said,  '  Out  of  the  abundance  of 
the  heart  the  mouth  speaketh,'  Anton." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Anton  ;  "  but  in  those  days 
I  should  think  there  was  no  Inquisition." 

Costanza  was  perplexed,  but  I  remonstrated, 
"  There  were  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  Anton." 

"  At  any  rate,  they  could  not  peer  into  every 
G* 


6G  THE    MARTYRS    OF    SPAIST. 

corner,  as  tliey  do  now,"  said  Anton,  confidently. 
"  I  feel  sure  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  and  the 
Philistines,  and  Nebuchadnezzar,  and  Herod,  and 
Pontius  Pilate,  and  Judas  Iscariot,  were  nothing 
to  the  Inquisitors.  Besides,"  he  added,  lowering 
his  tone,  "  why  cannot  we  do  as  your  ancestors 
did — as  they  say  many  Jews  do  in  Castile  to 
this  day — attend  mass,  and  keep  to  their  own 
customs,  and  say  nothing  about  it  ?" 

"  But  there  is  all  the  difference  in  the  world," 
I  said,  "  The  relapsed  Jews  have  on\f  customs 
to  keep  ;  but  we  have  a  Gospel  to  tell ;  glad 
tidings  of  great  joy,  which  shall  be  to  all  people, 
Anton,  and  Ave  cannot  be  silent.  Would  you 
like,  Anton,  that  no  one  should  have  told  you?" 

Anton  could  not  reply  for  a  minute.  He 
busied  himself  in  re-arranorinir  the  mule's  har- 
ness,  and  then  answered  in  a  softer  tone : 

"  The  news  is  good,  my  young  ladies,  very 
good,  and  very  glad,  and  for  me  the  danger  is 
slight ;  but  there  are  terrible  things  within  those 
dungeons  at  Valladolid.  The  way  into  them  is 
easy,  but  no  one  comes  out  of  them  without  be- 
ing singed,  if  not  burnt  altogether.  They  ai-e 
no  respecters  of  persons  there.  It  is  said  King 
Philip  would  not  spare  his  own  son.  I  hear 
more  than  those  who  are  nurtured  tenderly  in 
palaces,  and  sometimes  my  heart  trembles. 
Trap-doors  may  open  at  any  moment  under  our 
feet,  and  I  tremble  to  see  the  feet  of  the  little 
ones  dancing  over  them." 


THE    MARTYRS    OF    SPAIN.  67 

"  But,  Anton,"  said  Costanza,  "  we  know,  we 
all  know"- 

"  Know  what  ?"  said  the  faithful  old  servant. 

"We  know  that  brother  may  deliver  up 
brother  to  death,"  I  said  ;  "  and  we  know  also, 
Anton,  that  the  hairs  of  our  head  are  all  num- 
bered." 

"  His  words  are  mighty,"  said  Anton,  rever- 
ently ;  "but  tlien  faith  is  sometimes  weak." 

"  We  must  not  look  at  the  waves,  Anton  ;  but 
at  the  Saviour's  hand  outstretched  to  uphold ; 
or,  perhaps,  better  still,  at  Plis  lace,  to  see  the 
'  Be  of  good  cheer'  in  his  compassionate  eyes, 
before  we  hear  it  from  his  lips — •  Be  of  good 
cheer  ;  it  is  I ;  be  not  afraid.' " 

Anton  bowed  his  head,  and  crossed  himself 
reverently;  and  just  then  there  rose  before  us, 
crowning  the  summit  of  a  little  hill  commanding 
the  Duero,  the  walls  of  Toro,  with  its  old  castle 
flanked  with  four  massive  round  towers. 

We  entered  one  of  the  many  gates  ;  we  jiassed 
by  the  palaces  and  convents,  and  stopped  at  the 
door  of  a  house  in  a  back  street. 

We  were  expected.  It  was  the  house  of  the 
Bachelor  Anton  Ilerezuelo ;  and  his  beautiful 
young  bride.  Leaner  de  Cisneros,  was  in  the 
courtyard  to  meet  us.  They  had  not  long  been 
married,  and  Leaner  was  full  of  all  the  happy 
cares  of  her  new  home. 

The  room  which  Costanza  and  I  were  to  share 
was  decorated  as  if  for  a  church  festival.     There 


68  THE    MAETYKS    OF    SPAIjST. 

were  no  images  of  the  Blessed  Yirglii  in  it ;  "but 
there  was  an  antique  ivory  crucifix,  almost  veiled 
in  flowers.  The  room  was  fragrant  with  Spring 
flowers  and  fresh  linen  white  as  snow. 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  kindness  of  our 
hosts,  and  the  quiet  happiness  of  that  home. 
Leanor  was  younger  than  I  was — not  nineteen  ; 
and  through  and  above  all  her  beauty  and  gaiety 
shone  a  light  purer  and  deeper  than  any  thing 
earthly  can  give.  The  presence  of  the  Master 
had  consecrated  that  marriage.  His  hand  was 
with  them  day  by  day,  turning  the  water  into 
wine.  Their  cup  seemed  brimful  of  happiness, 
and  it  overflowed  in  deeds  and  words  of  kind- 
ness to  us  and  to  all.  Never  since  have  I  seen  a 
love  deeper  and  purer  than  that  which  united 
Antonio  Ilerezuelo  and  Leanor  de  Cisneros. 

In  the  day,  when  the  Advocate  Herezuelo  was 
engaged  in  his  j^rofessional  duties,  "we  three  were 
like  happy  sisters  together.  In  the  evenings, 
the  precious  sacred  books  were  brought  out, 
(for  this  house  also  had  its  secret  library,)  and 
we  read  together,  or  heard  of  the  secret  spread 
of  the  truth  in  all  the  villages  and  cities  around  ; 
whilst  often,  and  especially  on  Sundays,  many 
other  secret  converts  joined  us,  and  we  had 
prayers,  and  once  the  celebration  of  the  Holy 
Supper  of  the  Lord. 

My  itncle,  Pedro  de  Vibero  Cazalla,  parish 
priest  of  Pedrosa,  a  village  not  far  distant  from 
Toro,  in  the  neighbouring  diocese  of  Zamora, 


THE   MARTYRS    OF   SPAIlSr.  69 

was  present  on  this  occasion.  He  had  much  to 
tell  us  of  the  joyful  reception  the  Gospel  met 
with  among  his  parishioners,  the  humhle  villa- 
gers of  Pedrosa.  This  rejoiced  me,  because  there 
is  so  much  in  the  New  Testament  about  the  Gos- 
pel being  preached  to  the  poor,  and  I  used  to  be 
afraid  sometimes  whether  our  doctrine  wanted 
this  seal.  It  spread  so  much  more  among  the 
noble,  and  rich,  and  learned,  and  gifted. 

I  have  said  the  happiness  of  our  hosts  seemed 
full  to  overflowing.  But  it  was  held,  as  all  cups 
of  earthly  happiness  are,  in  trembling  hands. 
We  knew  too  well,  all  of  us,  the  truth  of  An- 
ton's warnings,  although  hope  with  us  generally 
outweighed  fear.  Yet  often  have  I  seen  tears  in 
Leanor's  eyes  when  her  husband  left,  and  an 
anxious  look  on  her  brio-ht  face  when  his  return 
was  delayed  ;  graver  and  deeper  shadows  than 
cross  young  hearts  in  ordinary  times.  "  Antonio 
was  so  fearless,"  she  said.  I  used  to  think  some- 
times, with  a  human  love  so  intense,  and  with 
one  so  beloved  for  her  teacher — for  it  was  from 
the  husband  the  young  wife  had  learned  to  be- 
lieve— it  must  be  difficult  to  tell  how  much  her 
faith  rested  on  God's  words,  and  how  much  on 
Antonio's.  But  Leanor  was  troubled  with  no 
such  doubts.  God  had  given  her  her  husband. 
God  had  given  her  his  truth.  Home  and  heaven 
were  both  God's  gifts.  And  when  the  time  of 
Satan's  sifting  came  for  them,  the  Lord,  who  loved 
them,  knew  how  to  sustain  and  keep  them  both. 


VO  THE    MAKTTES    OF    SPAIN. 

Our  next  visit  was  to  a  veiy  diiferent  home. 
Don  Carlos  de  Seso  was  Coregidor  of  Toro,  and 
on  one  of  his  journeys  to  confirm  the  infont 
church  of  Leon  and  Castile,  he  paid  a  visit  to  the 
Advocate  Herezuelo,  and  took  my  sister  and  me 
back  with  him  to  his  residence  at  Villaniediana, 
near  Logrofio,  in  Navarre.  He  said  the  moun- 
tain air  might  strengthen  me,  and  his  wife,  the 
Don  a  Isabella  de  Castilla,  would  treat  us  as  her 
children. 

Anton  and  the  mules  were  therefore  prepared, 
and  we  set  out  once  more  with  our  noble  escort. 
We  visited  my  nncle  at  Pedrosa,  and  stayed  at 
Zamora  a  few  days.  We  re-crossed  the  dry  plain 
of  the  Duero,  where  the  corn  was  now  acquiring 
a  golden  tint.  We  saw  in  the  distance  the  glit- 
ter of  the  lofty  spires  of  Valladolid.  At  length 
we  entered  the  rich  valley  of  the  Arlanzon,  and 
traced  the  river  in  its  course  among  the  hills  up 
to  Burgos. 

This  hill-country  was  a  new  world  to  me,  and 
translated  many  a  Bible  narrative  into  pictures 
for  me — the  hill-country  of  Judea,  Tabor,  and 
Galilee  ;  and  in  the  mountain  range  at  some 
distance  behind  Burgos,  I  saw,  for  the  first  time, 
the  silver  line  of  snow,  and  thought  of  the  trans- 
figured garments,  and  of  Hermon  and  Lebanon. 
Instead  of  the  slow,  silent  rivers  of  the  plains, 
mountain  streams  with  living  voices  came  leap- 
incc  doAvn  from  the  wooded  hills  to  meet  the  Ar- 
lanzon.     Villages    and   convents   crowned    the 


THE   MAKTTES    OF   SPAIK,  Tl 

heights.  Every  village  spire  had  its  stork's  nest. 
Forests  shaded  our  path,  and  the  green  glades, 
and  solemn  avenues,  and  fragrant  cistus  and  for- 
est-flovrers  made  me  almost  ^vild  with  delight. 
Occasionally,  too,  the  Enzina,  the  evergreen  oak 
of  Navarre,  waved  its  dark  boughs  above  us, 
and  recalled  to  me  the  three  brothers  Enzinas, 
whose  native  city,  BurgoS,  Ave  were  approaching. 
We  were  passing  through  the  country  of  the 
Cid  Campeador,  and  many  of  the  old  ballads  my 
foster-mother  used  to  sing  to  me,  came  ringing 
through  my  memory.  Costanza  and  I  fancied 
every  castle  the  scene  of  conflicts  between  the 
Moors  and  the  old  chivalry  of  Castile. 

Don  Carlos  occasionally  rode  beside  us,  and 
pointed  out  the  scenes  of  the  old  legends  ;  and 
he  said  to  me,  "  It  is  the  memory  of  this  old 
contest  with  the  infidel  which  makes  one  of  the 
strongest  barriers  to  the  entrance  of  the  truth. 
The  pride  of  the  Castilian  in  his  Catholic  descent, 
the  horror  of  all  new  doctrine  as  somethino-anti- 
Spanish  as  well  as  anti-Christian,  would  be  an 
obstacle  to  the  spread  of  the  Gospel  almost  as 
strong  as  the  Inquisition,  if  the  Inquisition  could 
be  crushed  to-mori-ow." 

"  But,"  I  said,  "  the  hand  of  God  can  break 
down  pride  within,  as  w^ell  as  power  with- 
out," 

"  It  is  possible,"  he  replied.  "  But  whatever 
the  result  be  for  Spain,  it  is  certain  that  every 
heart  which  believes  finds  present  rest  in  Chi'ist, 


'72  THE    MARTYRS    OF    SPAIN. 

and  the  key  to  everlasting  joy  with  Him  ;  and 
this  is  worth  working  for." 

Burgos  noAV  rose  above  ns,with  the  grand  spires 
of  its  magnificent  cathedral.  Some  hours  after- 
wards, when  resting  a  while  near  one  of  its  gor- 
geous shrines,  feeling  the  music  vibrate  through 
its  clustering  pillars,  while  the  light  fell  crimson 
and  golden  through  the  painted  windows  on  the 
pavement,  the  spell  of  the  old  faith  stole  over  me 
once  more.  The  cathedral  was  like  a  new  world, 
half  divine,  half  human.  The  awe  of  mountains 
and  the  mystery  of  forests,  with  the  loveliness 
of  flowers,  seemed  to  pervade  it,  blended  with 
tender  human  thoughts  of  the  mouldering  hands 
that  had  built  it,  and  the  immortal  human  spirit 
that  had  designed  it.  The  ever-burning  lamps 
before  the  visible  Divine  Presence  in  the  sacra- 
ment ;  the  music,  deep  as  winds  and  waters,  but 
Avith  a  human  tone  no  winds  and  waters  can 
have  ;  the  tombs  at  my  feet ;  the  mass  the  priest 
was  saying  in  the  side  chapel,  joining  the  living 
with  the  dead,  and  thus  breaking  the  terrible 
silence  between  us  and  them  ;  the  confessional, 
with  its  balms  of  jiardon — as  I  sat  there,  the  en- 
chantment seemed  to  deepen  over  me,  and  I 
thought,  "  How  can  my  counti'y  ever  escape 
from  this  ?" 

Only  as  I  left  the  church  I  remembered  how 
in  reality  the  masses  for  the  dead  threw  a 
shadow  on  heaven  itself;  how  that  dream  of  the 
"  real  Presence"  in  the  sacrament  hid  the  real 


THE    MAETYKS    OF    SPAIN.  73 

abiding  presence  of  the  living  Saviour  from  the 
heart;  how  the  confessional  was  so  often  but  a 
jiortal  to  the  Inquisition, 

But  it  was  not  until  that  evening  that  the 
spell  Avas  quite  broken.  We  sat  among  a  little 
company  of  Protestants  in  a  private  house  in 
Burgos,  and  Don  Carlos  de  Seso  read  to  us  of 
the  resurrection  of  the  Lord  ;  of  the  living  Lord 
who  appeared  to  Mary  in  the  gray  of  the  Syrian 
morning.  "  Mary  !  Master  !"  The  words,  so 
simple  and  significant,  fell  on  my  heart  with  a 
new  power.  I  felt  I  had  been  looking  into  a 
sepulchre  full  of  memories,  fragrant  with  em- 
balming spices,  illuminated  with  sepulchral 
lamps,  but  still  a  sepulchre ;  and  now  I  was  in 
the  daylight  again,  in  the  pure  morning  air,  and 
Jesus  risen,  was  near,  "  the  same  yesterday  and 
to-day,  and  for  ever  ;"  and  that  He  spoke  to  me 
in  no  mysterious  church  language,  but  famil- 
iarly ;  He  called  me  by  the  name  my  sisters 
called  me  at  home. 

But  Spain,  my  country,  when  will  she  turn  her 
weeping  face  from  the  empty  sepulchre,  where 
He  is  not,  and  see  Him  standing  living  for  ever- 
more, and  hear  Him  speak  ? 

Leaving  Burgos,  we  crossed  the  plain  which 
lies  between  it  and  the  mountains,  and  entered 
the  beautiful  country  amidst  which  the  residence 
of  Don  Carlos  lay.  Forests,  olive-gardens,  vine- 
yards on  sunny  slopes,  and  mulberry  groves 
flourished  around  Logroiio.     At  Villamediana. 


74  THE    MARTYRS    OF    SPAIN. 

near  Logrono,  was  situated  the  palace  of  Don 
Carlos  de  Seso,  and  his  wife,  Isabella  de  Castilla, 
a  princess  of  the  royal  house  of  Castile  and 
Leon.  It  was  a  stately  dwelling,  very  different 
from  the  house  of  our  old  friend,  Antonio  de 
Herezuelo  at  Tolo.  At  first  Costanza  and  I,  and 
more  especially  Anton  Minguez,  felt  some  awe 
of  our  noble  hosts.  The  titles,  the  number  and 
deference  of  the  attendants,  and  the  splendour 
of  the  rooms,  made  it  seem  to  us  like  a  royal 
court ;  but  the  gentle  kindness  of  Dona  Isabella 
to  us  both,  her  tenderness  to  rae,  and,  more 
than  all,  the  deep  union  between  us  on  account 
of  our  common  faith  soon  made  us  feel  at  home. 

Our  reverence  for  Don  Carlos  also  made  a 
great  bond  between  us  and  the  Dona  Isabella, 
and  we  delighted  to  hear  her  tell  of  his  early 
life  at  Verona,  where  he  was  born  ;  of  the  ser- 
vices he  had  rendered  the  Emperor  Charles,  and 
of  the  honour  the  Emperor  paid  him.  We  knew 
how  all  these  honours  were  esteemed  nothing  by 
him,  for  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of 
Christ ;  but  we  honoured  him  doubly  for  the 
honours  he  despised. 

I  think  I  have  never  since  seen  any  thing  so 
noble  in  manners  as  the  blending  in  Don  Carlos 
of  the  Italian  nobleman  and  the  Christian.  I 
used  to  think  he  must  be  a  kind  of  combination 
of  the  Cid  and  St.  Paul ;  and  yet  perhaps  his 
manner,  as  an  Italian,  had  more  ease  than  that 
of  the  grandees  of  Spain.     And  he  was  not  the 


THE    MAETYES    OF    SPAIN.  75 

only  one  among  our  Spanish  Protestants  in 
whom  so  many  noble  qualities  were  thus  blended. 
At  Valladolid,  at  Toro,  at  Zamora,  at  Palencia, 
at  Burgos,  at  Logrofio,  wherever  we  had  met 
the  little  secret  companies  of  our  brethren, 
among  them  were  always  some  of  the  noblest, 
most  learned,  and  most  illustrious  ;  minds  of 
the  keenest  insight  and  widest  grasp  ;  accom- 
plishments and  gifts  the  most  brilliant ;  hearts 
the  bravest,  manners  the  noblest. 

The  house  of  Don  Carlos  at  Villamediana  was 
the  resort  of  all  the  Protestants  of  the  kingdoms 
of  Castile  and  Leon.  Those  whose  minds  had 
begun  to  question  the  practice  or  dogma  of  the 
Church  came  there  to  inquire  further.  Those 
who  had  embraced  the  good  news  of  pardon 
and  peace  through  the  crucified  and  risen  Christ, 
came  to  consult  as  to  the  best  means  of  spread- 
ing the  evangelical  doctrine,  and  to  report  their 
success.  Books  were  there  in  store,  freely  dis- 
tributed to  all :  Bibles  and  Testaments ;  the 
writings  of  Luther,  Melancthon,  and  Calvin, 
translated  into  Castilian  ;  with  the  Dialogues  of 
Valdes,  and  his  Hundred  and  Ten  Considera- 
tions. The  good  work  of  circulating  books  was 
much  aided  by  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Py- 
renees, of  Arragon,  and  Beam,  and  by  the  fact 
that  the  chief  officer  of  the  custom-house  at 
Logrofio  was  himself  a  Protestant.  The  parish 
priest  at  Vahamediana  also  had  become  an  ad- 
herent of  the  Reformed  faith. 


^6  THE   MAETTES    OP   SPAIN. 

On  our  return  to  Valladolid,  we  sj^ent  some 
days  at  the  village  of  Hormigos,  in  the  diocese 
of  Paleucia,  with  my  uncle  Francisco  de  Vibero 
Cazalla,  the  parish  priest.  He  had  many  hum- 
ble converts  among  the  jDcasantry.  The  forms 
of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  were  still  re- 
tained ;  but  his  sermons  were  full  of  Scriptural 
truth,  and  his  confessions  became  a  place  of 
heavenly  counsel  to  many.  The  contrast  be- 
tween the  priest's  house  in  the  country  village 
and  the  palace  we  had  left,  was  very  marked ; 
and  it  was  delightful  for  me  to  watch  how  the 
truth,  which  satisfied  the  aspirations  of  the  no- 
blest and  most  enlightened,  could  be  the  daily 
bread  of  the  poorest  and  least  enlightened.  The 
Eternal  Word,  the  Brightness  of  the  Father's 
glory,  is  also  the  bread  of  the  Christian's  daily 
life.  And  the  written  word,  which  is  the  reve- 
lation of  the  Unseen  and  Eternal  Light,  is  also 
the  lamp  to  our  feet,  and  the  light  to  our  path, 
It  was  a  great  rest  to  the  heart  to  see  this  proved, 
as  we  had,  in  palace  and  cottage,  in  city  and  vil- 
lage ;  from  Toro,  where  we  had  passed  those 
happy  days  in  the  bright  home  of  Antonio  de 
Herezuelo  and  Leanor  de  Cisneros,  to  Pedrosa, 
where  we  were  so  afiectionately  entertained  by 
Francisco  Cazalla — three  names  consecrated 
and  canonized  among  us  since  tlien,  but  not  at 
Rome. 


THE    MAETYKS    OF    SIXAIN.  77 


CHAPTER  V. 

RETURNED  to  Valladolid,  not  indeed  the 
strongest  of  my  mother's  thirteen,  bnt,  al- 
though still  lame,  scarcely  an  invalid,  and  able 
to  take  some  share  in  the  ordinary  occupations 
of  those  around  me.  Gostanza  returned  be- 
trothed to  Mark  Van  Rosevelt,  a  Flemish  gen- 
tleman whom  we  had  met  at  the  house  of  Don 
Carlos  de  Seso. 

The  Reformed  doctrine  continued  to  spread 
in  Valladolid,  and  the  villages  and  towns  of 
Leon  and  Castile,  but  especially  in  the  towns ; 
yet  secretly,  for  fear  of  the  Inquisition.  I  often 
wonder,  in  recalling  those  days,  how  this  secrecy 
could  have  been  so  long  maintained  imder  the 
very  eyes  of  the  Inquisition.  The  accession  of 
so  many  priests  to  our  number  no  doubt  made 
concealment  easier,  as  long  as  outward  changes 
of  order  and  ceremony  did  not  seem  a  duty. 
The  confessional,  with  these  Protestant  clergy- 
men, became  merely  a  chair  of  counsel ;  the 
mass  was  understood,  as  far  as  possible,  in  an 
evangelical  sense ;  the  festivals  of  the  saints 
were  regarded  simply  as  commemorations  of 
pious  men  and  women. 
7* 


TS  THE    MAETYRS    OF    SPAIN. 

It  must  also  be  remembered  that  the  corrup- 
tions of  the  Roman  Chm'ch  existed  far  more  in 
her  unauthorized  customs  than  in  her  authorized 
Liturgy.  Much  of  the  purity  of  early  times  re- 
mains in  her  Church  Prayer-book.  Besides,  we 
always  clung  to  the  hope  that  the  Church  of 
Spain  would  be  reformed  as  a  community  ;  and 
who  can  be  surprised  that  we  should  indulge 
such  an  expectation,  when  we  knew  that  two 
chaplains  of  the  Emperor  Charles  were  decided 
Protestants,  and  had  good  reasons  for  thinking 
Fray  Bartolme  de  Carranza,  in  1558,  appointed 
Primate  of  Spain,  to  be  deeply  imbued  with  the 
Lutheran  doctrine. 

Meantime  the  populace  generally,  the  toiling 
and  uneducated  multitude,  were  not  with  us. 
The  common  people  did  not  hear  us  gladly. 
The  general  opinion  among  these  was  that  Lu- 
ther was  a  kind  of  incarnation  of  the  Devil,  and 
the  Protestants  a  new  species  of  Moors  and  Jews. 
Since  my  residence  in  Holland,  I  have  often 
thouixht  that  the  Reformation  has  more  cause  to 
glory  in  the  names  of  the  poor  weavers,  carpen- 
ters, and  shopkeepers  burnt  at  Queen  Mary  and 
King  Philip's  fires  through  England  and  Hol- 
land, than  in  the  illustrious  names  which  swell 
the  roll  of  our  Spanish  martyrology. 

The  despised  names  which  show  that  the 
truth  has  taken  deep  root  in  the  heart  of  the 
labouring  poor,  are  worth  more  to  a  country 
than  the  most  glorious  titles,  which  only  show 


.       THE    MARTYES    OF    SPAIX.  19 

that  it  has  reached  the  learned  aud  exalted.  It 
is  beautiful  to  see  the  high  mountain  j^eaks 
golden  and  rosy  in  the  dawn  ;  but  when  the 
light  shines  on  the  villages  in  the  plains  and  hol- 
lows, it  is  day.  And  to  Spain  that  day  has  never 
come. 

Some  months  after  our  return  to  Valladolid, 
we  received  into  our  house  the  learned  Dr.  Juan 
Gil,  or  Egidius.  He  had  just  been  released  from 
his  imprisonment  in  the  prisons  of  the  Inquisi- 
tion at  Seville,  and  he  came  to  spend  his  first 
days  of  recovered  freedom  among  us  his  breth- 
ren of  Leon  and  Castile. 

He  was  very  sad.  He  always  took  the  lowest 
place  amongst  us,  and  seemed  to  prefer  to  keep 
silence.  He  said  he  was  not  worthy  to  speak 
for  Christ  before  us,  since  he  had  failed  to  con- 
fess Him  before  the  enemies  of  His  truth.  Yet 
we  all  thought  he  dealt  hardly  with  himself;  his 
recantation  had  been  the  result  of  such  a  base 
deception.  Sometimes  it  seemed  to  cheer  him 
when  we  represented  this  to  him  ;  but  often  he 
would  reject  this  consolation;  and  I  think  the 
only  time  when  I  remember  any  thing  like  real 
happiness  on  his  face,  was  when  he  would  say 
words  of  this  kind : 

"Let  me  abhor  myself;  let  me  confess  my 
sins  to  the  full!  Yet,  yet  I  believe  that  Ho 
who  turned  and  looked  on  Peter  will  not  over- 
look me.  Let  it  l>e  such  a  look  as  to  break  my 
lieart !  It  will  not  say,  'Depart,'  but  '  Return ;' 
and  that  is  enough  for  me." 


80  THE    MARTYES    OF    SPAIN. 

From  Dr.  Egidins  I  learned  what  I  will  now 
briefly  record  of  the  origin  and  early  history  of 
the  fflorious  but  short-lived  Reformed  Church  of 
Seville. 

One  of  the  first  converts  to  the  evangelical 
doctrine  in  Seville  owed  his  instruction  chiefly  to 
the  Inquisition.  A  poor  peasant  was  brought 
before  the  holy  ofiice  at  Seville,  for  having  said 
that  there  was  no  jiurgatory  but  the  blood  of 
Christ.  Ho%v  he  had  apprehended  this  truth,  I 
know  not.  His  hold  on  it  could  not  have  been 
very  firm,  since  he  told  the  Inquisitors  if  such  a 
doctrine  was  heretical,  he  would  certainly  retract 
it  at  once.  But  the  Inquisitors  (like  the  Phar- 
isees, who  so  often  understood  our  Lord's  words 
against  them  better  than  the  disciples)  explained 
to  the  poor  man  that  this  proposition  involves 
countless  other  heretical  doctrines,  such  as  justi- 
fication by  faith,  and  the  fallibility  of  the  Pope 
and  the  general  councils  who  had  taught  the 
doctrine  of  purgatory.  By  some  means  the 
peasant  escaped  their  hands ;  but  their  words 
remained  in  his  mind  :  he  had  learned  from  the 
Inquisitors  the  connection  between  one  evangel- 
ical truth  and  another,  and  became  a  confirmed 
Lutheran.  This,  however,  was  an  isolated  case, 
and  led  to  no  consequences,  so  far  as  I  know. 

The  first  man  who  really  preached  the  Re- 
formed doctrine  in  Seville,  was  Rodrigo  Valero. 
He  was  a  gentleman  of  Lebrixa,  not  a  priest  nor 
a  learned  man.     His  youth  had  been  spent  in  the 


THE   MABTYES    OJ^   SPAIN.  81 

eager  pursuit  of  pleasure.  Listless  idleness  could 
never  have  been  his  temptation.  Among  the 
young  men  of  rank  of  Seville,  he  was  a  leader  of 
fashion.  Wealthy,  daring,  and  generous;  in 
feats  of  arms,  in  the  chase,  in  entertainments,  in 
dress,  he  was  the  prince  of  his  circle.  No  soci- 
ety, no  amusement  at  Seville  vras  complete  with- 
out the  presence  of  Rodrigo  Valero.  All  at 
once,  without  any  reverse  of  fortune  or  any  loss 
of  health,  he  absolutely  abandoned  his  life  of 
dissijDation,  became  indifferent  to  all  he  had  de- 
liglited  in,  and  gave  himself  to  reading  and  med- 
itation on  the  things  which  are  not  seen  and 
eternal.  If  he  had  taken  monastic  vows,  or 
founded  a  new  order  of  monks,  people  would 
have  understood  the  change.  Such  visible  con- 
versions from  dissipation  to  the  convent,  from 
the  gay  world  to  the  religious  world,  were 
among  the  recognized  phenomena  of  the  day. 
But  Valero  avoided  the  monasteries  as  much  as 
his  former  pursuits.  His  religious  book  was 
not  the  lives  of  the  saints,  which  any  one  could 
have  made  allowance  for,  but  the  Bible !  and  to 
him  the  study  of  the  Bible  was  no  easy  matter. 
The  only  Bible  he  possessed  Avas  the  Latin  Vul- 
gate ;  and  the  little  Latin  he  had  learned  in  his 
boyhood  had  been  nearly  forgotten.  But  the 
Bible  was'  from  God  ;  and  what  God  said,  Va- 
lero must  know;  therefore  day  and  night  he 
studied,  until  he  could  read  Latin  easily.  Then 
the  treasure-house  was  open  to  him,  and  he  be- 


82  THE    MAETYES    OF    SPAIN". 

came,  indeed,  a  man  of  God,  furnished  from  the 
Divine  armoury  for  every  good  word  and  Avork. 
Henceforth  he  sought  the  society  of  the  clergy, 
to  tell  them  of  the  truth  he  had  found.  He 
addressed  all  who  would  listen  to  him,  of  all 
ranks  and  professions.  He  had  good  news  to 
tell  them — that  the  veil  between  man  and  God 
is  rent  for  ever  by  God's  hand,  and  that,  through 
Him  who  died  for  us  all,  the  way  is  open  for  all 
to  draw  near  to  God.  To  the  clergy  he  had 
other  messages.  Their  hands,  too  many  of  them, 
were  employed  in  erecting  barriers  between  man 
and  God  ;  by  their  false  doctrine,  which  misrep- 
resented Him  ;  by  their  vices,  which  disgusted 
men  with  the  name  of  religion.  Such  words 
could  not  be  spoken  with  impunity,  from  the 
days  of  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  to  ours.  The 
clergy  demanded  by  what  authority  he  taught 
these  things.  He  told  them  that  the  truths  he 
spoke  were  his  credentials,  and  directed  them  to 
the  Word  of  God  as  the  source  of  all  he  said. 
He  was  brought  before  the  Inquisitors  ;  his  rank 
and  the  influence  of  his  family  saved  him  ;  and 
his  enemies  contented  themselves  with  command- 
ing him  "  not  to  teach  in  this  Name,"  and  with  de- 
claring liim  mad.  For  some  little  time  he  abstained 
from  all  public  speaking,  and  simply  explained 
the  Epistle  to  the  Romans  privately  to  his 
friends.  But  his  heart  was  too  full  to  be  long 
satisfied  with  such  comparative  silence.  In  all 
battles  some  must  take  the  first  step,  and  make 


THE    MARTYES    OF    SPAIN.  83 

a  way  for  the  rest.  He  did  not  shrink  from  this 
post.  Once  more  he  spoke,  and  was  brought 
again  before  the  Inquisitors,  and  sentenced  to 
wear  the  robe  of  infamy,  the  Sanbenito,  and  be 
imprisoned  for  life. 

This  final  sentence  was  pronounced  in  1541, 
four  or  five  years  before  the  martyrdom  of  San 
Roman  at  Seville.  For  such  a  nature,  death 
would  have  been  easier.  Henceforth  the  former 
leader  of  gaiety  and  fashion  at  Seville  was  only 
to  be  seen  on  festivals,  driven  throusrh  the 
street  in  his  yellow  robe  of  disgrace,  among  the 
penitents,  to  the  church  of  San  Salvador.  But 
even  this  could  not  extinguish  the  fire  of  his 
zeal  for  souls.  More  than  once  a  voice  was  heard 
from  that  dishonoured  company,  after  the  sermon, 
faithfully  warning  the  congregation  against  any 
false  doctrine  in  it,  and  telling  them  of  Him 
who  was  near  to  them  and  near  to  God — the 
Redeemer,  the  Sacrifice,  the  Priest.  This  could 
not  often  be  permitted.  At  length  he  was  shut 
out  from  all  society  in  the  monastery  of  San  Lu- 
car,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Gaudalquivir.  And  there, 
at  the  age  of  fifty,  he  died.  He  had  no  monu- 
ment but  his  poor  robe  of  shame  hung  up  in  the 
Cathedral  of  Seville.  It  was  of  an  unusual 
size,  and  his  monumental  inscription  was — 
"  Rodrigo  V^alero,  a  citizen  of  Lebrixa  and 
Seville,  an  apostate  and  false  apostle,  who  jire- 
tended  to  be  sent  of  God."  This  was  his  me- 
morial, while  the  faithful  lips  which  could  have 


84  THE   MAKTTES    OF   SPAIN. 

denied  it  were  silent  for  ever  in  the  burial  ground 
at  San  Lucar.  But  his  true  and  fervent  words 
lived  and  burned  in  many  a  heart  in  Seville.  I 
never  heard  that  there  was  much  of  what  is 
commonly  called  eloquence  in  them ;  but  it  is 
wonderful  how  many  eloquent  tongues  they 
taught  to  speak.  I  have  often  thought  there  was 
a  strange  similarity  in  this  respect  between  him 
and  San  Roman.  Both  laymen,  comparatively 
unlearned,  both  having  for  their  chief  character- 
istic a  fervent  heart,  they  were  as  "  voices  in  the 
wilderness."  They  bore  witness  to  "  the  Lamb 
of  God,  who  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world," 
directed  the  hearts  of  many  to  Him,  and  then 
were  heard  no  more.  On  earth,  nothing  but  a 
voice  ;  in  heaven,  burning  and  shining  lights, 
burning  on  for  ever  !  I  can  conceive  no  nobler 
destiny  than  this.  With  their  dying  hands,  San 
Roman  and  Valero  gave  the  impulse  which 
launched  the  vessel. 

Juan  Gil  himself  spoke  with  the  tenderest 
reverence  of  Valero,  and  he  had  reason.  Elected 
Canon-magistral  or  preacher  of  the  Cathedral 
of  Seville,  on  account  of  his  great  learning, 
when  he  tried  his  scholastic  logic  on  the  hearts 
of  the  people  from  the  Cathedral  jiulpit,'  he 
found  it  absolutely  powerless.  His  audiences 
diminished,  and  the  disappointment  with  his 
preaching  was  general.  The  hearts  of  the 
people  were  thirsting  for  bread,  and  he  gave 
them  stones.     He  reasoned  of  theories  and  ab- 


THE    MAETYllS    OF    SPAIN.  85 

stractions,  which  had  done  very  well  as  the 
playthings  of  idle  monks.  He  found  himself 
face  to  face  with  toiling  and  snifering  men  and 
women  who  wanted  comfort  and  strength  ;  with 
sinners  who  Avanted  pardon  ;  with  human  hearts 
that  wanted  God,  and  he  was  speechless.  His 
well-prepared  syllogisms  and  citations  from  the 
schoolmen  echoed  back  to  him  from  the  hollow 
dome  of  the  Cathedral  without  entering  one  heart 
-^gidius  was  too  honest  not  to  be  conscious 
of  this  ;  but  he  could  not  conceive  why  it  shoiild 
be,  until  Valero,  the  unlearned  gentleman  whom 
so  many  thouglit  crazed,  ventured  to  tell  him 
the  secret  of  his  failure.  There  was  a  Book  to 
which  he  had  indeed  often  applied,  as  a  doctor 
of  theology,  for  texts  to  prove  his  theories,  but 
to  which  he  had  never  gone  as  a  fallen  man  to 
find  the  way  of  salvation.  Valero  advised  him 
to  study  the  Bible,  and  take  it  henceforth,  not 
as  a  convenient  repertory  of  quotations,  but  as 
the  living  source  of  truth,  ^gidius  read,  be- 
lieved, and  thenceforth  taught  what  he  believed. 
The  usual  result  followed.  He  directed  the 
hearts  of  men  to  the  love  of  a  living  God,  the 
sinner  to  the  Saviour.  "  Some  believed,  and 
some  believed  not ;"  but  the  death-sleep  was 
broken.  Many  hearts  were  inspired  with  ever- 
increasing  love  to  God,  with  readiness  to  endure 
all  for  the  Saviour's  sake,  and,  in  many,  a  bitter 
spirit  of  opposition  was  aroused,  which  rested 
not  until  it  had  brought  the  preacher  to  the 
8 


86  THE    MAETYKS    OF    SPAIN. 

prisons  of  the  Inquisition,  and  silenced  his  voice 
for  ever  in  the  Cathedral  of  Seville. 

^gidius  did  not  labour  alone.  Two  of  his 
former  fellow-students  at  the  University  of 
Alcala  Avere  led  by  his  conversation  to  embrace 
the  truth — Dr.  Vargas  and  Constantine  Ponce  de 
la  Fuente.  Dr.  Vargas  gave  private  theological 
lectures,  and  Constantine  frequently  occupied 
the  pulpit  of  ^gidius. 

Of  all  the  names  so  mournfully  hallowed  for 
us  at  Seville,  none  is  more  honoured  among  us 
than  that  of  Constantine  Ponce  de  la  Fuente. 
Chaplain  and  almoner  to  the  Emperor  Charles,  he 
was  chosen  on  account  of  his  great  abilities  to 
accompany  King  Philip  to  Flanders,  that  Flem- 
ings might  see  that  Spain  was  not  destitute  of 
learned  and  eloquent  men.  Yet  his  writings  are 
chiefly  designed  to  instruct  the  little  ones  of  the 
flock  of  Christ  in  the  elements  of  Christian 
truth.  lie  had  learned  the  great  secret  that  He 
who  is  the  wisdom  and  word  of  God  is  also  the 
bread  of  life  to  man,  and  that  the  simplest  truths 
are  the  deepest.  I  picture  him  to  myself  as 
having  been  a  man  healthy  in  "body,  soul,  and 
spirit,  free  from  all  morbidness  and  narrowness 
of  heart.  Brilliant  and  witty  in  society,  his 
wit  was  like  a  keen,  fresh  mountain  air,  sweeping 
through  all  his  other  faculties,  and  keeping  them 
clear  and  sweet.  His  firm  character,  and  free, 
penetrating  mind  must  have  been  a  great  sup- 
port to  ^gidius. 


THE    MAKTYRS    OF    SPAIN.  87 

lie  Lad  a  great  contempt  for  all  that  is  hollow 
and  unreal.  When  the  chapter  of  Toledo  in- 
vited him  to  accept  the  lucrative  and  distin- 
guished office  of  cathedral  preacher,  he  declined  ; 
"  lest,"  as  he  said,  "  he  might  disturb  the  bones 
of  their  ancestors,"  the  Archbishop  having  re- 
quired an  unexceptionable  pedigree  from  his 
clergy. 

He  had  an  equal  contempt  for  the  empty  lite- 
rary display  which  was  required  as  a  qualifica- 
tion for  the  post  of  cathedral  jireacher  at  Seville. 
He  said  that  these  literary  contests  were  as  unfit 
to  test  the  relative  powers  of  preachers  of  the 
Christian  religion  as  the  "  exercises  of  school- 
boys, or  the  tricks  of  jugglers."  When  at  last, 
however,  rather  than  leave  so  important  an  office 
to  a  mere  careless  declaimer,  he  was  induced  to 
enter  the  lists,  all  shrank  from  the  contest  with 
him — all  but  one,  who,  unable  to  attempt  to 
rival  him  in  debate,  adopted  instead  the  weapons 
of  slander.  He  was  a  man  neither  loved  nor 
hated  in  moderation.  His  noble,  firm,  free 
character,  must  have  been  a  great  support  to 
the  more  timid  and  cautious  ^o-idius. 

Such  were  the  three  men  who  commenced  the 
Reformation  in  the  south  of  Spain  ;  Valero,  the 
chivalrous  and  fearless,  the  man  of  M^ar,  the 
Christian  cavalier,  boldly  gathering  the  spears, 
and  burying  them  in  his  breast,  to  make  a  way  for 
freedom, with  his  few  simple  truths  simply  spoken, 
enkindling  the  hearts  of  many;  ^gidius,  the 


88  THE   MARTYRS    OF    SPAIIf. 

man  of  learning,  receiving  the  ins2>iring  word 
from  Valero,  and  developing  it  in  his  well-cul- 
tured mind  into  the  harvest  of  living  grain  ;  and 
Constantiue  Ponce  de  la  Fuente,  the  man  of  the 
world,  with  his  clear,  practical  sagacity  and  his 
popular  eloquence,  reaping  the  precious  grain, 
prei^aring  and  distributing  it  to  be  the  food  of 
thousands.  Never,  I  think,  did  God  prepare,  or 
man  reject,  three  fitter  instruments  for  a  noble 
work. 

Around  these  gathered,  one  by  one,  hundreds 
of  believers,  varied  in  character,  abilities,  and 
station,  as  the  three  leaders  themselves.  The 
Protestant  Church  was  formed  at  Seville.  They 
met  sometimes  at  one  house,  and  sometimes  at 
another,  but  chiefly  at  the  mansion  of  a  Avidow 
lady  of  wealth  and  rank,  Isabel  de  Baena. 
Among  them  was  Don  Christobal  Losada,  "  a 
Lutheran  for  love,"  as  the  Inquisitors  said,  led 
first  to  consider  the  Reformed  doctrine  from  his 
affection  to  a  young  Protestant  lady,  and  after- 
wards so  enlightened  by  the  study  of  the  Bible 
that  the  church  at  Seville  unanimously  elected 
him  its  pastor  ;  until  at  last  he  became  a  martyr 
"  for  love"  indeed,  a  love  passing  all  earthly  at- 
tachments. The  brother  of  the  Duke  of  Me- 
dina Sidonia,  commander  of  the  Invincible 
Armada,  Don  Domingo  de  Guzman,  was  amongst 
them,  and  Don  Juan  Ponce  de  Leon.  Many  a 
noble  house  of  the  old  Christians  of  Castile  and 
Andalusia  needs  indeed  a  Letlie  to  cleanse  it 


THE    MARTTES    OF    SPAIN.  89 

from  the  taint  of  heresy,  and  even  of  martyr- 
dom. 

Then  there  was  the  monastery  of  San  Isidro, 
near  Seville,  which  became  a  focus  of  evangelical 
light,  from  which  twelve  Protestant  monks 
at  last  escaped  to  happier  lands  ;  and  others, 
nnable  or  unwilling  to  fly,  were  despatched  by 
the  Inquisitors  in  chariots  of  flame  to  the  better 
country  still,  the  heavenly.  And  of  honourable 
women,  not  a  few  were  among  the  devoted 
band.  Young  and  aged,  noble  and  humble, 
timid  and  courageous,  the  good  news  reached 
the  hearts  of  all,  and  nerved  them  to  endure. 
Isabel  de  Baena,  Maria  de  Virves,  Maria  de  Cor- 
nel, Maria  de  Bohorques,  the  two  sisters  of  Gon- 
salez  of  Moorish  descent,  Maria  Gomez,  her 
three  daughters  and  her  sister.  They  are  not 
dead,  but  living,  and  we  shall  meet  them  yet. 

The  circumstances  of  Dr.  Juan  Gil's  (iEgidius) 
trial  were  very  sad  and  peculiar.  Bitterly  as  he 
reproached  himself  for  his  recantation,  we  always 
thought  him  scarcely  guilty  in  the  matter. 

His  two  chief  friends  had  just  been  removed 
from  him — Dr.  Vargas  by  death,  Constantino 
Ponce  de  la  Fuente  by  the  summons  of  the  Em- 
peror to  attend  King  Philip  as  chaplain  in  the 
Netherlands.  At  this  critical  time,  the  malice 
of  his  enemies  was  aroused  by  his  appointment 
to  the  Bishopric  of  Tortosa,  the  richest  see  in 
the  gift  of  the  Spanish  crown.  He  was  brought 
before  the  Inquisition  on  the  charge  of  Luther- 


00  THE    :MAHTYliS    OF    SPAIN. 

anism.  Fray  Bartolome  Carranza,  "U'Lom  lie 
chose  as  arbitrator,  was  absent ;  and  at  length, 
deceived  by  false  professions  of  friendship,  he 
appointed  Domingo  de  Soto  his  arbiter.  Soto 
appeared  quite  to  agree  Avith  ^gidius  on  all 
points  of  moment ;  and  it  was  decided  between 
them,  that  to  free  himself  from  all  charges  of 
heresy,  ^Egidius  and  Soto  should  each  read  a 
paper  in  the  cathedral  at  Seville. 

The  day  was  appointed,  and  a  very  large  con- 
gregation assembled,  with  the  Inquisitors,  ^gi- 
dius  and  Soto  took  their  places  in  their  several 
pulj^its.  De  Soto  spoke  first.  The  two  pulpits 
were  at  such  a  distance  that  the  voice  of  the 
speaker  in  one  could  not  be  heard  from  the 
other ;  but  iEgidius,  fully  confiding  in  the  sim- 
ilarity of  opinion  which  Soto  had  declared  to 
him  in  j^rivate,  nodded  assent  to  his  discourse. 
Then  came  his  own  turn.  Fearlessly  he  began ; 
but  as  he  read  on,  he  saw  dismay  in  the  faces  of 
his  friends,  and  indignation  and  triumph  among 
his  enemies ;  why,  he  could  not  in  the  least 
comprehend.  The  prisons  of  the  Inquisition,  to 
which  he  was  remanded,  were  not  likely  to  en- 
lighten him.  To  his  horror,  he  was  declared 
violently  suspected  of  Lutheran  heresy,  and  con- 
demned to  three  years  imprisonment  and  ten 
years  of  silence  from  teaching.  Bewildered,  en- 
trapped, alone,  he  lost  his  presence  of  mind. 
Enemies  and  friends  had  seemed  dismayed  at  his 
words.     What  could  it  mean  ?     There  must  be 


THE   MARTTRS    OF   SPAIN.  91 

something  wrong  in  what  he  had  said.  He  re- 
canted ;  and  only  long  afterwards  did  he  learn 
the  base  deception  which  had  been  practised  on 
him.  De  Soto's  pnblic  discourse  had  been  en- 
tirely opposite  to  his  private  conversation,  and 
jEgidius'  confession  had,  of  course,  contra- 
dicted it  in  every  point. 

When  the  three  years  of  imprisonment  had 
elapsed,  he  was  restored  to  freedom ;  but  with 
his  influence  blasted,  his  character  hopelessly 
stained  with  friend  and  foe,  his  heart  broken. 
He  only  lived  a  little  while  to  be  soothed  by  the 
pitying  aifection  of  the  Reformed  Christians  at 
Seville  and  Valladolid,  and  to  warn  them  with 
a  mournful  earnestness  rather  to  die  than  to 
belie  their  Lord.  Worn  out  with  regrets,  he 
died  shortly  after  his  return  from  Valladolid  to 
Seville.  But  he  is  no  doubt  rejoicing  now  ;  and 
perhaps  his  failure  has  taught  us  a  lesson  not 
less  impressive  than  the  death  of  San  Roman. 


92  THE    MARTYES    OF    SPAIX. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Tj^OR  many  years  the  Reformed  cliurches  in  the 
-»-  Castiles,  Leon,  Arragon,  Valencia,  and  An- 
dalusia continued  steadily  to  increase,  in  spite 
of  danger  and  opposition  of  every  kind.  The 
Inquisitors  at  Seville  and  at  Valladolid  must 
certainly  have  been  less  -vvatcliful  than  usual 
during  those  years.  Their  superiors  proved  that 
they  thought  so  afterwards  by  displacing  them. 
How  the  faith  was  so  long  kept  secret,  must, 
however,  remain  a  mystery.  Sometimes  I  think 
the  Inquisition  was  watching  us  steadily  all  the 
time,  and  only  waiting  the  right  moment  to 
spring  on  its  prey  !  Their  long  apparent  blind- 
ness was  otherwise  so  unaccountable,  and  the 
final  catastrojDhe  was  so  sudden  and  so  simulta- 
neous. 

In  1555,  our  brethren  of  Seville  were  thrown 
into  great  alarm  by  an  event  which  might  have 
betrayed  them  all.  Maria  Gomez,  a  widow  who 
had  embraced  the  faith,  became  insane.  She 
was  received  into  the  house  of  Dr.  Zafra,  vicar 
of  one  of  the  parish  churches  of  Seville,  and 
placed  there  under  a  slight  restraint.  But  she 
contrived  to  escape  ;  and,  as  is  so  frequently  the 


THE    MAKTTES    OF    SPAIJ^.  93 

case  with  lunatics,  she  conceived  a  hatred  against 
all  her  former  friends,  and,  as  the  secret  way  of 
ruining  them,  proceeded  at  once  to  the  Castle 
of  Viana  and  denounced  three  hundred  of  our 
brethren  by  name  as  Lutheran  heretics.  The 
presence  of  mind  of  Dr.  Zafra  saved  the  Church. 
He  received  the  information  with  perfect  cool- 
ness, convinced  the  Inquisitors  of  the  madness 
of  Maria  Gomez,  and  was  requested  by  them  to 
place  her  under  stricter  confinement  in  his  house. 
Her  accusations  were  entirely  disregarded  as  the 
ravings  of  insanity ;  and  Dr.  Zafra  continued,  as 
before,  to  be  frequently  employed  by  the  Inquis- 
itors, on  account  of  his  learning,  as  Qualificator, 
to  pronounce  on  the  orthodoxy  of  suspected  her- 
etics, and  by  this  means  he  saved  many  from 
prison. 

For  three  years  after  this,  no  further  peril  of 
any  moment  seemed  to  threaten  us.  Julianillo 
Hernandez  continued  to  introduce  Bibles  and 
Lutheran  books,  and  contrived  to  deposit  one 
large  cargo  of  these  dangerous  treasures  at  the 
house  of  a  Protestant  at  Seville.  Don  Carlos  de 
Seso  in  the  North,  and  the  monks  of  San  Isidro 
in  the  South,  industriously  distributed  these 
seeds  of  life  in  the  cities  and  villages,  in  the  pal- 
ace and  the  cottage.  The  numbers  of  the  Prot- 
estants increased,  their  faith  was  strengthened, 
and  many  of  us  continued  to  hope  that  Spain 
might  be  evangelized  ;  that  a  truer  crusade  than 
that  against  the  Moors  might  at  length  triumj)h, 


94  THE    MARTYRS    OF    SPAIN. 

and  a  new  world,  richer  than  Mexico  or  Peru, 
be  freely  opened  to  the  enterj^rise  of  our  coun- 
trymen. Occasionally  the  ferocious  and  gloomy 
temper  of  King  Philip  caused  us  anxiety,  and 
the  steady  pressure  of  the  Inquisition,  with  the 
fanatical  bigotry  of  the  lower  classes,  made  us 
tremble ;  but  we  had  seen  so  many  narrow  and 
closed  hearts  opened  and  expanded  in  the  light 
of  the  truth,  that  we  could  not  despair. 

But  at  length  the  tem2:)est  burst,  at  once, 
without  a  warning,  without  an  interval,  on  the 
North  and  South.  In  one  month  the  houses  of 
our  b^'ethren  were  entered,  their  inhabitants 
swept  away,  and  the  j^risons  of  the  Inquisition 
were  filled  ;  or  rather,  I  should  say,  with  a  more 
terrible  discrimination,  those  in  every  circle  we 
knew  to  be  the  most  earnest,  the  most  enlight- 
ened, the  most  certain  not  to  escape,  were  seized. 
The  emissaries  of  the  holy  office  came  most  fre- 
quently at  midnight,  and  before  morning  the 
light  and  support  of  the  household  was  gone,  and 
the  whole  family  had  become  suspected,  and 
dared  not  stir,  but  must  live  henceforth  m  the 
full  blaze  of  the  Inquisition,  countless  suspicious 
eyes  and  ears  watching  every  word  and  move- 
ment. 

In  our  church  at  Vail  ad  olid,  the  victims  were 
Don  Domingo  de  Rojas,  and  the  seven  nuns  of 
San  Belen.  Among  our  kindred  it  was  nearly 
all — my  three  uncles,  Augustin,  Pedro,  and  Fran- 
cisco do  Vibero  Cazalla,  and  my  aunt  Beatriz. 


THE   MAETTES    OP   SPAIN.  95 

In  our  liouse,  it  was  my  mother.  And  of  none 
of  these  have  any  of  us  ever  heard  one  word 
since  then,  except  such  fragments  as  have 
reached  us  of  the  processes  of  the  Inquisition,  or 
of  the  scenes  at  the  Autos-da-Fe. 

From  that  moment,  the  history  of  those  most 
lionoured  and  beloved  by  us  becomes  a  martyr- 
ology.  And  what  we  know  is  not  what  weio-hs 
most  heavily  on  our  hearts.  Of  those  who  con- 
fessed, and  were  burned  as  obstinate  heretics, 
at  least,  we  know  the  worst ;  the  sufieriuir  was 
over  before  we  heard  of  it,  and  Ave  could  almost 
bear  to  look  at  it  through  the  light  of  the  Pres- 
ence in  which  we  know  they  dwell.  But  of 
those  who  they  say  recanted,  who  were  remanded 
as  penitents  to  long  years  of  hopeless  imprison- 
ment in  convents  or  monasteries,  it  is  for  those 
that  our  hearts  never  cease  to  ache.  Did  they 
betray  their  fiith  ?  Did  the  agony  of  torture  or 
the  delusion  of  false  promises  induce  them  to 
recant?  Did  my  mother,  my  gentle,  tender 
mother,  bewildered  by  their  arguments,  perhaps 
by  false  statements  that  others  on  whose  judg- 
ment she  relied  had  yielded — deluded  by  the 
fond,  passionate  hope  of  seeing  us,  her  children, 
again — did  she,  indeed,  like  many  others,  recant, 
as  the  Inquisitors  say,  and  return  to  their  hope- 
less prisons  to  regret  and  repent  in  bitter  soli- 
tude and  silence  that  one  irrevocable  error,  until 
she  pined  her  life  away  ?  Or  did  she  never  re- 
cant ?     Were  those  unavailing  recantations  all  a 


96  TUE    MAETYKS    OF    SrAIN. 

slander  invented  by  the  cruel  and  cowardly 
Jiearts  who  dared  not  reveal  to  Spain  how  many 
of  her  noblest  sons  and  daughters  had  embraced 
the  detested  faith  of  the  Reformers  and  the 
Apostles  ?  In  this  life,  we  can  never  know. 
But  on  the  testimony  of  Inquisitors  only,  we  will 
never  believe  of  any  of  our  brethren  that  they 
betrayed  the  truth,  either  on  the  rack,  or  at  the 
last  moment  at  the  stake,  to  obtain  the  wretched 
relief  of  being  strangled  instead  of  burned 
alive. 

They  have  reported  that  my  imcle,  Augustin 
Cazalla,  ^^astor  of  the  church  at  Yalladolid,  had 
recanted ;  but  we  know  from  private  accounts 
that  the  true  record  of  his  last  hours  was  this  : 

"Augustin  Cazalla,  when  he  came  opposite 
the  Princess  Juana  at  the  auto^  kneeled  down 
and  said  to  her, '  Queen  and  my  lady,  for  the  love 
of  God  let  your  Majesty  hear  four  things  from 
me.'  At  which  the  chief  alguazil  ordered  the 
procession  to  stop ;  and  having  petitioned  her 
and  received  her  consent,  Cazalla  knelt  before 
the  Princess,  and  weeping,  lamented  his  sins,  ex- 
claiming three  times,  '  Blessed  be  God  !  blessed 
be  God  !  blessed  be  God !'  and  kissing  the  cross 
in  the  standard,  and  looking  iip  to  heaven,  hold- 
ing a  cross  and  uttering  loud  expressions  of  grief 
that  seemed  to  burst  his  heart  with  sorrow,  said, 
'Hear  me,  0  Heaven  and  men,  and  may  our 
Lord  be  received  with  honour,  and  be  ye  holy 
witnesses  how  I,  a  repentant  sinner,  return  to 


THE    MARTYRS    OP    SrAi:N'.  97 

the  absolution  of  foithful  Christians.  I  truly  re- 
j)ent  to  God,  and  to  the  holy  commandments  of 
Him  the  High  Priest  (/.  c,  Christ).  I  well  and 
sincerely  repent  of  all  my  sins,  and  am  going  to 
die  in  the  faith  of  my  Lord  and  God.  I  acknowl- 
edge that,  for  the  least  of  my  sins,  I  deserve  the 
gravest  pains  of  hell  that  are  bestowed  upon  the 
condemned ;  but  our  Lord  has  shown  mercy 
towards  me,  by  drawing  me  to  the  true  knowl- 
edge of  my  former  condition^  to  know  that  the 
way  I  was  going  was  darkness,  on  account  of 
error  and  sin,  and  that  the  present  is  the  way  by 
which  I  and  all  Christians  should  walk.'  And 
on  this  he  said  certain  other  words,  and  returned 
to  his  place  again." 

Was  there  any  thing  in  these  words  unworthy 
of  Luther,  or  Ridley,  or  at  least  of  the  martyred 
Archbishop  Cranmer  ?  The  Liquisitors  boasted, 
that  he  was  a  jienitent ;  but  they  did  not  think 
his  penitence  likely  to  benefit  the  Church  so 
much  as  his  death,  and  he  was  strangled,  and  his 
corpse  committed  to  the  flames.  This  was  the 
course  they  pursued  also  with  my  uncle  Pedro, 
and  many  others.  The  Inquisition  and  the  Sa- 
A^iour  have  a  different  reception  for  i:>enitents ! 
We,  at  least,  must  ever  remember  our  mother's 
brother,  Augustin,  with  tender  reverence,  for 
almost  his  last  words  on  the  scaffold  were  an  in- 
tercession with  Juana,  the  Queen-Dowager  of 
Portugal,  for  my  mother  and  for  us.  Pointing 
to  her  as  she  stood  on  the  scaffold  among  those 
9 


98  THE    MAETYKS    OF    SPAIN". 

condemned  to  perpetual  inaj^risonraent,  he  said, 
"  I  beseech  yoni*  highness,  have  compassion  on 
this  unfortunate  'svoman,  who  has  thirteen  or- 
phan children." 

For  •myself,  I  cannot  doubt  that  the  words 
they  call  a  recantation  were  an  humble  confession 
of  Christ,  meant  to  strengthen  those  who  were 
to  die  with  him.  Had  he  spoken  more  plainly, 
they  would  have  silenced  him,  as  they  did  oth- 
ers, with  the  gag;.  My  conviction  is,  that  the 
last  confession  of  Augustin  Cazalla,  chaplain  to 
the  Emperor  Charles,  was  a  confession  not  of 
heresy,  but  of  Christ ;  as  his  last  thoughts,  like 
those  of  the  crucified  Lord  he  served,  were  for 
his  kindred  and  the  disciples. 

At  all  events,  the  Inquisitors  left  no  time  for 
the  penitent  to  retract  again.  Like  the  Emperor 
Charles,  they  doubtless  considered  the  habit  of 
heresy  so  inveterate,  that  it  was  never  safe  to 
spare  even  the  i>enitent.  They  procured  from 
Rome,  as  a  new  privilege,  the  precious  right  to 
burn  even  those  who  recanted.  The  garrote,  or 
perpetual  imprisonment  in  their  own  impenetra- 
ble prisons  was  the  best  welcome  they  had  for 
those  of  whose  retractations  they  boasted. 

But  the  number  of  those  to  whom  the  Inquisi- 
tion itself  bears  witness,  as  obstinate  or  relapsed 
heretics,  is  more  than  I  can  easily  recount.  Our 
roll  of  martyrs  is  indeed  large  enough  without 
my  seeking  to  swell  it  by  removing  slanders 
from  those  declared  to  have  recanted.    The  holy 


TUE    MAKTYnS    OF    SPAIN".  99 

office  itself  shall  be  our  mai'tyrologist.  Wc 
were  at  A^illamediana,  Costanza  and  I,  when  the 
terrible  storm  burst.  My  mother,  my  uncles,  all 
we  knew  best  at  Valladolid.  had  been  arrested 
at  once,  and  were  in  the  prisons  of  the  inquisi- 
tion. Our  first  impulse  was  to  return.  But  we 
Avere  reminded  that  the  dungeons  of  the  Inqui- 
sition are  as  impenetrable  to  those  who  live  in 
sight  of  their  walls  as  if  they  were  in  the  New 
World.  I  was  reminded  also  what  a  hindrance 
my  feeble  health  must  be  to  the  escape  of  any 
party  to  which  I  belonged  ;  and  of  the  especial 
perils  involved  in  the  suspected  name  we  bore. 
Day  after  day  brought  some  fresh  tale  of  woe. 
From  Toro,  from  Palencia,  Burgos,  Hormigos, 
Pedrosa,  Logrono,  from  every  place  which  had 
to  us  been  a  point  of  hope,  came  the  tidings  of 
ruin  and  despair.  Every  band  of  Reformed 
Christians  Avas  evidently  knowni  to  the  Inquisi- 
tors as  Avell  as  to  us.  Everv  eratherinof  of  the 
most  secret  kind  in  the  houses  in  the  cities, 
every  scattered  group  in  the  remotest  villages, 
that  we  had  thouglit  concealed  from  all,  was 
brought  out  into  the  glare  of  their  midnight 
torches.  And  then  followed  horrible  susiiicions 
of  those  we  had  trusted.  Some  of  the  timid,  in 
a  delirium  of  fear,  rushed  to  the  Inquisitors  and 
denounced  themselves ;  others  remained  j^ara- 
lyzed,  without  attempting  to  conceal  the  perilous 
books  in  their  possession ;  others  denounced 
themselves,   alas !    as   surely,   by   a  precipitate 


100  THE    MAETYES    OF    SPAIX. 

flight.  In  every  company  of  our  brethren  it  was 
the  noblest,  the  firmest,  the  most  enlightened 
who  were  seized,  when,  indeed,  any  were  spared. 
What  wonder,  then,  tliat  tlie  shfeep,  deprived  of 
the  shepherd,  were  scattered  !  And  yet  in  every 
company  some  feeble  ones,  from  whom  no  one 
had  exj^ected  such  courage,  showed  themselves 
capable  of  the  noblest  things,  and  proved  that  it 
is  not  the  shepherds  only  that  the  Chief  Shep- 
herd supports,  but  every  feeblest  lamb  of  the 
one  flock  for  which  He  died.  Instances  of  treach- 
ery there  were,  but  so  few  that  they  are  easily 
named  and  counted.  I  think  throughout  our 
churches  only  two  proved  untrue ;  one  at  Seville, 
and  the  wretched  wife  of  Juan  Garcia,  a  silver- 
smith at  Yalladolid,  pensioned  for  life  by  the 
Inquisition  for  her  murderous  services.  But 
why  should  I  call  even  these  traitors  ?  The  In- 
former at  Seville  had  long  been  a  spy  in  the  pay 
of  the  holy  ofiice,  and  Garcia's  wife  only  obtained 
the  knowledge  of  our  23lace  of  meeting  by  se- 
cretly dogging  her  husband's  footsteps  one  night 
when  he  had  summoned  our  brethren,  as  usual, 
to  hear  a  sermon.  He  had  never  trusted  her 
with  our  secret.  Traitress,  indeed,  she  Avas 
to  him,  but  not  to  us,  for  one  of  us  she  had 
never  been. 

At  length  the  household  at  Villamediana  was 
dispersed  by  the  news  of  the  arrest  of  Don  Car- 
los de  Seso  himself  at  Logroiio.  The  Dofia  Isa- 
bella insisted  on  having  Costanza  and  me  con- 


THE    MARTYRS    OF    SPAIN.  101 

veyed  over  the  French  border.  "  Nothing  can 
save  me,"  she  said  ;  "  and  I  have  nothing  now  in 
this  world  to  be  saved  for.  But  life  may  bloom 
again  for  Costanza  and  for  you." 

Costanza  had  indeed  one  on  earth  to  live  for. 
At  last  she  was  persuaded  to  be  married  j^ri- 
vately  by  the  parish  priest  of  Villamediana  to 
the  young  Fleming,  Yan  Rosevelt,  who  had 
loved  her  so  long ;  and  that  same  evening  we 
started  on  mules  through  the  less-frequented 
mountain  passes,  and  in  a  few  days  reached  the 
French  side  of  the  Pyrenees  in  safety.  Life  had 
begun  again  for  my  sister  ;  but  for  me,  for  a  long 
time,  it  seemed  to  have  closed,  I  felt  like  one 
dead,  banished  into  a  Hades — a  sunless  world  of 
shadowy  beings  unconnected  with  me. 

Mother,  brothers,  and  sisters,  my  mother's 
brothers  and  sisters,  friends  of  childhood  and 
youth,  all  lost  and  hidden  behind  a  veil  as  im- 
penetrable as  that  of  the  grave ;  the  people 
around  me,  at  first,  kind  as  they  were,  seemed 
to  me  scarcely  more  to  belong  to  me  than  if 
they  had  been  ghosts  of  Abraham,  Isaac,  and 
Jacob.  It  seemed  to  me  almost  a  treachery  to 
the  beloved^ — who,  though  lost,  were  not  dead — 
to  let  any  others  take  up  their  home  in  my  heart. 

It  is  so  cold,  so  terrible,  that  even  the  dead 
should  be  replaced,  should  return  and  find  their 
l^laces  filled.  And  my  beloved  were  not  dead  ; 
at  any  moment,  by  escapes  not  more  marvellous 
than  our  own,  might  they  not  be  with  us — my 
9* 


102  THE    3IARTYRS    OF    SPAIiST. 

mother,  my  own  mother,  my  uncle  Augustin — 
nil? 

The  people  around  me  were  gcwd  and  Chris- 
tian, hut  they  were  not  my  own  people.  How 
few  can  comprehend  the  loneliness  of  such  exile 
as  ours — the  strange,  cold  language,  learned  not 
from  a  mother's  lips,  but  from  a  dictionary  and 
a  grammar  ;  the  busy  life  around  us — the  homes, 
and  the  whole  world  of  throbbing,  eager  human 
hearts,  among  which  we  are  wandering  detached 
atoms  from  another  world !  Often  it  seemed  to 
me  as  if  my  identity  itself  were  lost — as  if  1 
bad  died  and  become  some  one  else. 

Would  St.  Paul  have  felt  like  this  ?  I  know 
not.  He  could  have  been  almost  accursed  for 
his  brethren's  sake,  his  kinsmen  according  to 
the  flesh.  But  I  was  not  St.  Paul,  only  a  poor 
feeble  woman,  whose  whole  heart  had  been 
bound  up,  like  those  of  old  in  a  little  home  at 
Bethany — a  poor,  ruined,  forsaken  home,  whose 
Lazarus  never  rose  again.  And  what  I  ought 
to  feel,  or  ought  not  to  feel,  I  knew  so  little.  I 
only  knew  what  I  felt ;  and  I  knew  that  Jesus 
loved,  and  Jesus  wept ;  and  on  that  assurance  I 
leant  my  broken  heart ;  and  to  those  two  words 
I  fled  from  comforter  after  comfoiter,  who  would 
have  palsied  my  heart  for  ever  with  vain  com- 
mands not  to  love  so  much,  and  not  to  weep. 
And  this  I  know,  the  anguish  drew  me  nearer, 
nearer,  ever  nearer  to  Ilim  who  was  touched 
with  my  infirmities,  who  understood,  who  had 


THE    MARTYRS    OF    SPAIX.  103 

compassion,  who  groaned  in  spirit  and  was 
troubled,  who  wept.  When  the  right  time 
came  He  comforted  me,  but  not  with  the  com- 
fort which  paralyses,  which  deadens  ;  He  com- 
forted me,  and  I  was  comforted. 

The  first  comfort  He  sent  me  was  not  through 
His  Word,  but  through  His  providence,  through 
the  birth  of  my  sister's  first  child,  two  years 
after  our  escape.  My  sister  nearly  died  ;  and  in 
the  anxiety  for  her,  every  one  seemed  to  forget 
the  poor  little  feeble  one,  whose  life  had  so 
nearly  cost  hers.  So  it  was  left  to  me  and 
Truyken,  the  faithful  servant ;  and  my  whole 
heart  went  out  to  the  helpless  little  one,  and  I 
cherished  it  and  watched  it  until  its  mother's 
strength  began  to  be  restored,  and  I  had  the 
great  joy  of  giving  the  little  babe  into  her 
arms. 

Then  in  time  the  little  one  began  to  lisj)  in 
Dutch,  its  father's  language,  and  the  strange 
cold,  clii^ped  accents  grew  familiar  to  me  from 
the  babe's  lips  ;  and  the  kindred  of  the  child 
and  mother  gradually,  insensibly  grew  familiar 
and  dear  to  me,  not  replacing  the  lost,  but  re- 
calling them,  less  bitterly  than  of  old. 

And  in  fragments,  from  year  to  year,  tidings 
came  to  us  from  Spain,  and  we  learned  that  one 
after  another  of  our  beloved  were  no  longer  in 
the  dungeons  of  the  Inquisition,  but  witli  God, 
with  Jesus  for  ever.  For,  long  before  we  heard 
that  they  were  gone,  their  last  cry  of  anguish 


104  THE    MAETYES    OF    SPAIK. 

had  ceased,  and  their  new  song  of  joy  had  be- 
gun, which  no  persecutor  can  silence. 

Of  my  mother,  Costanza  de  Vibero  Cazalla, 
■vve  still  know  nothing.  They  said  she  recanted 
and  appeared  among  the  penitents  at  the  auto 
at  which  my  uncle  Augustin  died,  and  where  he 
pleaded  for  her  and  for  us.  Since  then  the 
prisons  of  the  Inquisition  have  impenetrably 
concealed  her  from  all  our  inquiries.  But  after 
many  years  our  hearts  were  comforted  about 
her.  We  had  prayed  so  long,  and  God,  we  were 
sure,  had  heard.  Now  we  feel  certain  she  is 
either  at  rest  with  the  martyrs  in  paradise,  or 
that  she  has  found  rest  for  her  soul  on  earth 
with  Him  who  calls  the  weary  and  heavy-laden 
unto  Him.  Would  I  have  failed  to  take  her 
comfort  in  her  prison,  had  I  been  able  ?  would 
distance  and  danger  have  deterred  me,  a  poor, 
crippled,  faint-hearted  wroman?  And  w^ould 
HE  fail  to  comfort  her.  He  who  is  always  able, 
and  always  near,  of  whose  love  and  pity  ours 
are  but  the  faintest  image  ?  I  have  no  fear  for 
her.  My  prayers  now  for  her  have  changed  into 
the  confiding  aspiration,  "  Thou  art  with  her — 
Thou  wilt  not  forsake  her — with  Thee  she  is  in 
safe  keeping." 

In  safe  keeping,  mother,  safe  and  blessed, 
whether  in  prison  or  in  paradise  !  But  it  was  long 
before  we  could  feel  this  consoling  assurance. 

Let  me  speak  of  those  concerning  whom  cer- 
tain  tidings  have   reached   us.      Of  my  uncle 


THE    MAETTES    OF    SPAIN.  105 

Aiigustin's  last  moments  I  have  spoken.  My 
uncle,  Pedro  de  Vibero  Cazalla,  parish  priest  of 
Pedrosa,  "svas  burned  in  the  second  of  those 
terrible  autos  at  Valladolid,  on  the  8th  of  Octo- 
ber, 1559.  It  is  said  that  he  confessed  his 
Luthei'an  fiith  -on  his  arrest  in  1558,  but  en- 
treated reconciliation,  but  that  only  two  of  the 
Inquisitors  voted  for  a  sentence  milder  than 
death,  so  that,  seeing  his  sentence  to  be  inevita- 
ble, he  refused  to  confess  any  more.  However 
this  may  be,  he  appeared  gagged  at  the  Auto-da- 
Fe,  and  was  bound  alive  to  the  stake.  Then  the 
friars  asserted  that  he  made  a  sign  of  penitence, 
and  accordingly  they  dealt  out  to  him  their 
largest  mercy,  the  garotte,  consigning  his  corpse 
to  the  flames.  Whether  this  act  of  theirs  was 
an  act  of  tardy  jiity,  or  a  fresh  cruelty  designed 
to  dishonor  his  memory  alike  with  friend  and 
foe,  I  know  not.  But  I  believe  it  was  indeed 
voluntarily  for  Christ  he  died,  refusing  to  confess 
to  a  priest  or  to  betray  his  brethren. 

Yet  it  is  of  the  first  Auto-da-Fe  at  Yalladolid 
I  must  speak  first.  It  was  a  great  festival  for 
the  Inquisitors.  Don  Carlos,  the  ill-fated  Prince, 
was  present,  and  the  Queen-Dowager  of  Portu- 
gal, Juana.  It  began  at  six  o'clock  on  May  22, 
1560,  and  lasted  till  two.  The  crowd  assembled 
with  the  earliest  dawn  of  the  Spring  morning. 
But  no  one,  they  said,  seemed  weary  during  all 
those  hours.  It  was  more  interesting,  no  doubt, 
than   any   acted   tragedy.     The   spectacle   was 


106  THE    MAKTTES    OF    SPAIX". 

brilliant ;  and  there  was  such  reality  and  variety 
of  passion  in  tlie  actors  !  For  the  royal  party 
there  was  a  private  entrance  to  their  seats  from 
the  Town  Hall.  They,  of  course,  and  the  no- 
bility, had  the  best  seats.  I  know  the  whole 
terrible  scene  too  well,  and  can  only  too  vividly 
picture  it  to  myself.  The  scaffold,  brilliant 
with  the  yellow  and  flame-coloured  robes — the 
gay  dresses  on  the  platforms — the  eager  faces 
of  the  citizens  and  peasants  in  the  square,  strug- 
gling for  the  best  view — the  great  church-bells 
tolling — the  murmurs  of  the  crowd,  and  the 
buzzing  of  conversation  among  the  ladies  of  the 
court,  hushed  when  Melchior  Cano,  Bishop  of 
the  Canaries,  mounted  the  pulpit  to  j)reach  the 
eermon.  The  voice  I  had  heard  on  the  occasion 
of  the  martyrdom  of  San  Roman  could  be 
trusted  in  that  pulpit  no  more.  Bartholomo 
Carrahza,  the  preacher  at  that  auto^  Archbishop 
of  Toledo,  was  already  under  suspicion  of 
heresy,  and  in  the  following  August  was  arrested 
at  Madrid,  and  thrown  into  the  prisons  of  the 
Inquisition,  to  linger  through  hi^  trial  of  seven- 
teen years.  It  seems  there  is  something  infec- 
tious in  those  autos,  after  all. 

But  this  ceremony  was  far  more  august  than 
the  one  I  had  "witnessed.  Thirty  heretics  were 
on  the  scaffold  instead  of  one.  They  were 
divided  into  two  bands — the  "  reconciled,"  and 
the  "  relaxed" — sixteen  of  the  former,  and  four- 
teen of  the  latter.     By  the  "  reconciled,"  the 


THE    MAKTYRS    OF    SPAIX,  lOY 

Inquisition,  in  tlie  diabolical  mockery  of  its 
teclinical  language,  mean  those  whom  they  as- 
sert to  have  reconciled,  and  therefore  receive 
again  to  the  bosom  of  the  Church — that  is, 
commit  either  to  exile,  or  to  life-long  imjirison- 
ment,  with  the  robe  of  shame,  and  the  declaring 
of  the  memory  infamous  for  ever.  In  all  cases 
the  Inquisitors  are  careful  to  confiscate  the 
whole  property.  This  is  the  welcome  of  the 
Church  of  Rome  to  her  j^rodigals — for  the  best 
robe,  the  coat  of  infamy ;  for  the  welcome  to 
the  home,  perpetual  isolation ;  for  the  father's 
house,  the  prisons  of  the  Inquisition.  Had  not 
the  "  relaxations"  of  the  Inquisition  been  so 
terrible,  few  would  have  sought  such  "  recon- 
ciliation." But  in  all  this  severity,  we  who  had 
been  tortured  by  it  through  our  best  beloved 
see  the  fullest  acknowledgment  of  the  strength 
of  our  Reformed  faith,  even  in  its  weakest  con- 
fessors. They  dare  not  trust  a  Protestant 
Christian  with  freedom  again,  so  irresistible  they 
deem  the  power  of  our  doctrine,  so  ineradicable 
the  truth,  when  once  it  has  taken  root  in  the 
heart. 

By  the  "  relaxed,"  the  Inquisitors  mean  those 
on  whom  they  will  never  relax  their  death-grasp, 
but  whom,  nevertheless,  they,  men  of  peace  and 
ministers  of  grace,  must  not  touch  ;  the  "  obsti- 
nate heretics,"  whom  they,  pastors  of  the 
Church,  deliver  over  to  the  secular  arm,  recom- 
mending them  to  mercy. 


108  THE   MARTYRS    OP    SPAIN. 

"  It  is  not  lawful"  for  us,  they  say,  like  the 
Pharisees  of  old,  "  to  put  any  man  to  death." 
It  is  singular  how  the  rites  and  ceremonies  of 
the  church  of  the  Murderer — the  world  who 
hated  the  Master  and  hated  the  disciples — are 
handed  down  from  age  to  age ;  that  Pharisees 
should  fulfill  the  Hebrew  prophecies,  and  Inquis- 
itors repeat  the  formulae  of  Pharisees,  not  from 
an  intentional  agreement,  but  from  the  deep  in- 
ward identity  of  character  naturally  reproducing 
the  same  fruit. 

And  the  secular  arm  always  interprets  "  mer- 
cy" to  mean  the  stake ;  yet  the  fathers  of  the 
Church  repeat  the  formulae  again  and  again,  and 
then  proceed  to  hasten  the  execution. 

Among  the  sixteen  reconciled  were  my  friend 
Dona  Ana  Henriquez  de  Rojas.  She  was  an 
accomplished  and  noble  lady,  only  twenty-four 
years  of  age,  and  the  w^ife  of  Don  Juan  de  Fon- 
seca  Mexia.  She  appeared  in  the  Sanbenito.- 
They  condemned  her  to  separation  from  her  hus- 
band, and  perpetual  seclusion  in  a  monastery. 
Don  Pedro  de  Rojas,  son  of  the  First  Marquis 
of  Poza,  was  despoiled  of  his  decorations  as 
Knight  of  St.  lago,  and  condemned  to  a  perpetual 
dress  of  infamy,  and  to  have  his  memory  ren- 
dered infamous.  Our  faithful  servant,  Anton 
Minguez,  was  also  among  this  band.  Another 
of  my  uncles,  Juan  de  Vibero  Cazalla,  Avith  his 
wife,  was  sentenced  to  the  perpetual  Sanbenito 
and  life-long  imprisonment.     And  this,  in  spite 


THE    MAKTYKS    OF    Sl'AIX.  109 

of  the  entreaties  of  my  uncle  Augustin,  ■v^'as  the 
sentence  passed  on  my  mother. 

The  infamy  descends  on  us  to  all  generations. 
We  accept  it,  and  Avould  wear  it  as  our  most 
honouralile  title,  if  all  the  orders  and  titles  of 
Christendom  were  heaped  on  us.  But  here,  in 
Holland,  that  is  easy.  In  Spain,  where  the  peo- 
ple, the  deluded  populace,  take  "up  the  cry,  it  is 
no  light  addition  to  the  anguish  of  those  who  are 
thus  condemned  to  know  that  their  kindred  and 
children  go  about  everywhere  pointed  at  and 
scorned  as  those  whose  name  is  tainted  with  a 
crime  worse  than  the  basest  of  which  men  dare 
not  speak. 

Among  the  fourteen  "  relaxed"  under  sentence 
of  death,  were  twelve  whom  they  declared  to  be 
penitents,  and  who  therefore  were  to  be  merci- 
fully strangled  before  their  bodies  were  bound 
to  the  stake,  and  two  who  were  burnt  alive.  Of 
the  first  twelve,  as  I  have  said,  was  my  uncle 
Augustin  Cazalla;  and  with  him  suffered  my 
aunt  Beatriz  de  Yibero  Cazalla,  two  knights, 
and  a  priest.  The  presence  of  these  priests  and 
knights  among  the  condemned  gave  great  effect 
to  the  ceremony,  since  every  knightly  decora- 
tion and  every  priestly  vestment  had  to  be  pub- 
licly removed  with  all  jDOssible  marks  of  con- 
tempt ;  and  the  criminals,  thus  divested  of  all 
earthly  dignity,  w.ere  presented  to  the  derision 
of  the  people  in  the  yellow  robe  and  mock  paste- 
board mitre,  painted  over  Avith  flames  and  figures 
10 


110  THE    MAETYIIS    OF    SPAIX. 

of  toads  and  devils.  This  my  uncles  underwent. 
But  of  these  savage  mockeries  I  dare  not  think, 
nor  of  the  secret  cruelties  Avhich  had  preceded 
them,  and  maimed  the  sufferers,  so  that  a  suffi- 
cient interval  had  always  to  be  left  between  the 
torture  and  the  stake,  to  allow  the  disjointed 
limbs  to  regain  strength  to  bear  the  martyrs  to 
the  auto.  Of  those  v/ho  died  under  torture  or 
from  its  effects,  we  know  the  names  of  more  than 
one.  But  on  these  things  I  dare  not  dwell,  lest 
I  should  grow  savage  myself  with  the  uncon- 
querable passion  of  indignation  and  horror  they 
excite.  The  endurance  of  the  martyrs  may  for- 
tify us ;  and  of  this  we  will  think  and  speak. 
The  cruelties  of  the  persecutors  are  of  hell,  and 
on  the  things  of  hell  we  may  not  safely  gaze. 

Is  it  not  so  even  with  the  crucifixion  of  our 
Lord  himself?  It  is  not  by  looking  at  the  hard 
and  enraged  faces,  or  listening  to  the  mocking 
words,  or  dwelling  on  the  cruel  stripes  and 
wounds,  we  gain  so  much,  as  by  fixing  our  eyes 
on  the  patience  of  the  spotless  Lamb,  the  majesty 
of  His  silence,  the  mournful  pity,  the  love,  the 
compassion  of  the  few  words  He  spoke.  Oh,  it 
was  that  scene  at  the  judgment-hall  and  on  Cal- 
vary, that  sufferer  going  willingly  up  to  the 
death  of  shame  for  them,  wounded  for  their 
transgressions,  Avhich  shone  before  the  hearts  of 
our  brethren  at  Valladolid  and  Seville,  or  they 
could  never  have  endured  as  they  did!  The 
robe  of  mockery,  the  crown  of  mockery,  the  de- 


THE   MAETYES    OF   SPAIX.  Ill 

livering  over  to  the  secular  arm  by  the  j)riests, 
who  did  not  shrink  from  staining  themselves 
with  murder,  but  would  not  for  the  world  have 
defiled  themselves  by  a  "  legal  irregularity" — 
had  it  not  all  been  enacted  before  in  Jerusalem 
fifteen  hundred  years  ago? 

The  servant  is  not  above  his  master ;  but  (oh, 
words  of  deathless  joy !)  "every  one  who  is  per- 
fect shall,"  when  this  day  of  pain  and  infamy  has 
passed,  "  be  as  his  Master" — immortal,  sinless, 
blessed  for  evermore  ! 

In  one  respect,  indeed,  the  persecutors  have 
learned  since  tlien  a  lesson  in  their  terrible  art. 
They  silence  the  martyrs.  Those  condemned  to 
death  usually  appeared  on  the  scaffold  in  Spain 
with  a  cleft  piece  of  wood  in  their  mouths,  in 
which  the  tongue  was  inserted,  producing  at 
once  speechlessness  and  pain.  This  was  the 
gag  :  it  was  not  always  removed  even  at  the 
stake.  The  Inquisitors  have  learned  the  power 
of  luords,  and  few  of  the  dying  words  of  our  be- 
loved have  reached  us. 

Two  names,  however,  at  that  aulo,  the  Inquisi- 
tors themselves  have  never  dared  to  slander  with 
any  report  that  they  recanted.  My  uncle  Fran- 
cisco was  one,  the  cura  of  Hormigos.  They  say 
he  signified,  by  a  movement  of  his  arms,  his 
grief  at  seeing  his  brother  Augustin  among  the 
penitents  ;  and  then  himself  was  led  to  the  stake, 
and  endured  the  flames  without  shrinking. 
Without  shrinking  !  without  a  murmur  I  need 


112  THE    MARTYKS    OP    SPAIN. 

not  say  ;  for  no  words  could  escape  the  poor  si- 
lenced tongue,  gagged  to  the  last. 

But  of  the  other  of  those  two,  how  can  I 
speak  ?  Antonio  Herezuelo,  fearless,  enduring, 
moved  throughout  his  examinations  neither  by 
torture  nor  promise,  what  agony,  worse  than 
all,  awaited  him  on  the  scaffold  !  His  wife  was 
there,  his  Leanor;  but  not  among  those  con- 
demned to  death  ;  she  stood  among  the  peni- 
tents. She  had  recanted.  She  was  not  to  share 
death  with  him.  They  say  nothing  had  moved  him 
till  he  saw  hex*.  He  had  stood  firm,  witli  a  look 
of  unshaken  courage  and  dignity,  and  impenetra- 
ble calmness,  amidst  all  the  ignominy  of  that 
day  ;  but  as  he  was  led  before  her  on  his  way  to 
the  stake,  an  anguish  came  over  his  face,  which 
did  not  pass  from  it  imtil  his  body  sank  among 
the  flames.  A  Roman  Catholic  eye-witness,  who 
stood  near  him,  and  could  observe  every  change 
of  feature  and  gesture,  said  that  he  could  not  ob- 
serve in  him  the  least  symptom  of  fear  or  pain, 
only  "  there  was  a  sadness  in  his  countenance  be- 
yond  any  thing  he  had  ever  seen.''"'  O  noble,  tender 
heart,  to  burst  with  siich  anguish,  and  not  be 
allowed  to  utter  it !  not  a  word  of  pity,  or  for- 
giveness, or  faithful  warning,  to  the  last !  He 
was  gagged  to  the  last ;  but  his  look  of  anguish 
had  spoken  to  Leanor  de  Cisneros,  his  wife, 
more  than  words. 

She  saw  it,  and  survived  the  unutterable  mis- 
ery it  must  have  caused  her,  and  did  not  lose 


THE    MAPvTYRS    OF    SPAIN.  113 

her  reason,  as  she  so  easily  might.  She  returned 
to  the  prison,  where  false  promises  and  false 
statements  had,  there  is  little  doubt,  deceived 
her  into  recanting,  a  "  confirmed  heretic."  That 
parting  look,  did  it  recall  another  look  of  One 
betrayed,  and  mingle  with  her  agony  the  hope 
and  the  purpose  which  sustained  her  in  life  and 
reason  ?  Nine  years  she  endured  the  prison 
alone.  They  might  have  been  nine  years  in  Par- 
adise !  But  may  it  not  have  been  necessary  for 
that  young  and  fervent  heart  to  learn  to  distin- 
guish between  the  love  whose  support  can  be 
removed,  and  the  love  which  cannot,  that  none 
might  be  able  to  say  of  her,  as  of  Losada,  "  a 
Lutheran  for  love  ?" 

Immediately  on  her  return  to  prison,  she  re- 
fused to  continue  the  covirse  of  penance  they  had 
induced  her  to  commence.  Penitent  indeed  she 
was,  but  not  to  Rome.  She  was  again  thrown 
into  the  secret  prison,  whence  no  Avail  of  anguish 
reaches  the  outer  world.  Nine  years  the  con- 
flict lasted  between  the  Inquisition,  with  all  its 
reckless  barbarity  in  the  use  of  its  terrible 
Aveapons,  and  that  one  young  widoAved  Avoman's 
faith.  The  Inquisition  was  baffled  ;  "  nothing,^'' 
they  said,  "  could  move  the  impenetrable  heart  of 
that  obstinate  woman.'''' 

On  the  25  th  of  September,  nine  years  and  four 

months  after  her  husband's  martyrdom,  Leanor 

de  Cisneros  Avas  brought  forth  in  another  Auto- 

da-Fe  at  Vallodolid.      No    human   voice   was 

10* 


114  THE    MAKTTES    OF    SPAIIf. 

there  to  encourage  lier,  no  human  eye  to  pity. 
Those  from  whom  she  had  learned  the  truth  for 
which  she  died,  and  with  whom  she  had  wor- 
shipped of  old,  were  all  dead  or  lost  to  her, 
strangled,  burnt,  exiled,  or  hopelessly  impris- 
oned. She  suffered,  the  last  of  that  noble  com- 
pany, alone,  but  she  accepted  no  treacherous 
mercy.  As  her  husband  died,  she  died,  bound 
living-  to  the  stake,  uncomplaining.  From  the 
flames  her  redeemed  spirit,  like  his,  was  received 
by  Him  for  whose  sake  they  both  laid  doAvn 
their  lives.  Their  bodies  did  not  perish  at  one 
stake  ;  each  passed  through  the  fiery  trial  alone. 
But  one  Paradise  has  held  their  blessed  sj^irits 
now  for  more  years  already  than  the  nine  during 
which  Leanor's  faith  was  tried. 

Thus  passed  that  Spring  day  in  May,  1559,  at 
Valladolid.  Before  sunset,  a  heap  of  ashes  lay 
outside  the  gates  of  the,  city,  sacred  as  any  ever 
stored  in  reliquaries.  But  no  man  gathered 
them.  God  had  better  things  in  store  for  that 
despised  dust  than  to  be  the  adoration  of  jioor 
human  hearts. 

I  had  almost  forgotten  to  record  the  last  dis- 
honour inflicted  on  our  family  at  this  Aitto-da-Fe. 
The  bones  of  our  grandmother,  Leaner  de  Vi- 
bero  Cazalla,  were  dug  up,  her  effigy  was  exhib- 
ited on  the  scaffold,  and  both  were  committed  to 
the  flames.  Her  memory  was  declared  infjmious, 
her  property  confiscated,  and  her  house,  where 
the  lleformed  Church  at  Valladolid   had  met. 


THE   MART  YES    OF   SPAIN.  115 

was  razed  to  the  ground.  Thus  was  every  trace 
of  our  iamily  to  be  blotted  out ;  and  in  our  native 
city  now,  no  memorial  of  us  exists,  but  a"  column 
of  infamy"  erected  on  the  site  of  my  grand- 
mother's house,  recording  why  it  was  destroyed. 

In  the  Autumn,  another  exhibition  was  pre- 
pared by  the  priests  for  the  court,  nobles,  and 
people  at  Valladolid,  more  impressive  even 
than  the  last.  King  Philip  himself  was  there, 
Don  Carlos,  the  Prince  of  Parma,  three  ambas- 
sadors from  France,  many  prelates,  and  a  bril- 
liant company  of  nobles  and  ladies  of  rank. 
Twenty-nine  heretics  appeared. 

Of  these,  sixteen  again  were  said  to  be  peni- 
tent, or  "  reconciled,"  and  among  these  was  the 
Dona  Isabella  de  Castilla,  wife  of  Don  Carlos  de 
Seso,  and  her  niece,  Doiia  Catalina.  These  were 
sentenced  to  the  extreme  penalty  next  to  death 
— the  perpetual  robe  of  infamy,  and  life-long  im- 
prisonment. I  cannot  but  think  that  the  Inqui- 
sition ventured  in  this  as  far  as  they  dared  with 
ladies  of  royal  blood,  and  sought  to  deny  us  the 
honour  of  two  royal  martyrs  by  professing  to 
believe  them  penitent.  The  falsehoods  they 
circulated  with  reference  to  others,  at  least  give 
room  to  hope  the  best  for  these. 

Don  Carlos  de  Seso  and  Don  Domingo  de 
Rojas  were  the  most  illustrious  martyrs  at  this 
auto.  They  and  Juan  Sanchez  endured  the 
flames  without  accepting  any  mercy  at  the  prico 
of  recantation. 


116  TUE    MAETYKS    OF    SPAIN". 

De  Rojas  made  one  appeal  to  King  Philip,  as 
he  passed  to  execution  : 

"  Canst  thou,  sire,"  he  said,  "thus  witness  the 
torments  of  thy  innocent  subjects?  Save  us 
from  so  cruel  a  death  !" 

"  No,"  replied  Philip  ;  "  I  would  myself  carry 
wood  to  burn  my  own  son,  were  he  such  a 
wretch  as  thou !" 

De  Rojas  attempted  to  say  something  in  his 
defense,  but  the  king  waved  his  hand,  and  the 
gag  was  forced  into  the  martyr's  mouth.  It 
was^not  withdrawn  at  the  stake.  It  is  the  con- 
tradictory reports  we  have  received  of  De  Rojas' 
last  moments  which  encourage  us  to  discredit 
much  that  the  Inquisitors  assert  with  regard  to 
the  recantation  of  our  brethren.  The  Inquisitors 
declare  that  at  the  last,  when  the  pile  was  set  on 
fire,  De  Rojas'  courage  failed,  that  he  begged 
for  a  confessor,  was  absolved,  and  strangled. 
But  private  letters  tell  us  that  "they  carried 
him  from  the  scaflbld,  accompanied  by  a  number 
of  monks  ;  about  a  hundred  flocking  about  him." 
(De  Rojas  had  himself  been  a  Dominican  friar, 
and  therefore  the  sanctity  of  the  order  was  at 
stake.)  "They  railed  and  made  exclamations 
against  him,  some  of  them  urging  him  to  recant. 
But  he,  notwithstanding,  answered  them  with  a 
bold  spirit,  that  he  would  never  renounce  the 
doctrine  of  Christ." 

The  conduct  of  Don  Carlos  de  Seso  through- 
out his  trial  was  worthy  of  the  noble  name  and 


THE    MARTYRS    OF    SPAIX.  117 

character  he  bore.  He  was  arrested  at  Loeroilo. 
In  all  his  exammations  in  the  terrible  secret 
l^risons,  the  Inquisitors  admit  that  his  answers 
were  calm  and  unchanging,  as  if  he  had  nothing 
to  fear.    lie  refused  to  implicate  any  one. 

At  midnight  before  the  Anto-da-Fe,  when,  as 
usual,  the  friars  came  to  tell  him  of  the  dreadful 
doom  awaiting  him,  that  before  another  sunset 
he,  the  favourite  of  the  Emperor,  must  die  as  a 
disgraced  and  degraded  felon  in  the  flames,  he 
called  for  writing  materials,  and  wrote,  not  an 
appeal  to  his  sovereign,  nor  a  confession  of  error, 
but  a  confession  of  faith.  He  gave  this  to  the 
officer,  saying,  "  This  is  the  true  faith  of  the 
Gospel,  as  opposed  to  that  of  the  Church  of 
of  Rome,  which  has  been  corruj^ted  for  ages. 
In  this  faith  I  wish  to  die ;  and  in  the  remem- 
brance and  liA-ely  belief  of  the  passion  of  Jesus 
Christ,  to  offer  to  God  my  body,  now  reduced 
so  low." 

"  His  body  reduced  so  low !"  By  what 
means  ?  Doubtless  by  the  loathsome  dungeon, 
the  pulley,  and  the  rack !  Yet  the  spirit  retained 
all  its  noble  dignity  and  courage.  And  they 
say,  who  have  seen  it,  that  the  document,  pre- 
served in  the  archives  of  the  Inquisition,  con- 
taining his  confession  of  faith,  is  vigorous  and 
clear  beyond  what  any  one  could  conceive,  see- 
ing that  it  was  written  in  the  presence  of  death. 

All  that  night  and  the  next  morning  before 
the  Auto-da-Fe^  the  friars  laboured  to  persuade 


118  THE    MAETYES    OF    SPAIN. 

Don  Carlos  to  retract.  But  in  vain.  He  ap- 
peared on  the  scaifold  gagged;  and  when  the 
gag  was  removed  at  the  stake,  and  the  monks 
once  more  clamoured  for  him  to  confess,  he  re- 
plied, in  a  loud,  firm  voice : 

"  I  could  demonstrate  to  you  that  you  ruin 
yourselves  by  not  imitating  my  example.  But 
there  is  no  time.  Executioners,  light  the  pile 
which  is  to  consume  me." 

He  died  without  a  groan  or  a  symptom  of 
struggle.     He  was  in  his  forty-third  year. 

One  martyr,  the  third  who  suffered  at  this 
auto  without  any  rehef  obtained  by  yielding,  was 
nerved  by  De  Seso's  courage  in  the  flames  to 
endure  the  same. 

This  was  Juan  Sanchez.  He  had  been  bound 
alive  to  the  stake,  and  had  asked  no  mercy  ;  but 
when  the  flames  consumed  the  ropes  which 
bound  him,  with  the  unconquerable  instinct  of 
self  preservation,  he  leapt  from  the  stake  on  the 
scaffold  near  it,  where  those  were  placed  who 
recanted.  The  friars  surrounded  him,  hoping  to 
receive  his  confession.  But  he  looked  from  those 
who  were  kneeling  in  penance  on  one  side,  to 
Don  Carlos  standing  firm  amidst  the  fire  on  the 
other ;  and  walking  deliberately  back  to  the 
stake,  again  yielded  himself  to  the  flames,  whose 
terrible  power  he  had  felt.  He  called  on  the 
executioners  to  heap  up  the  faggots.  "  I  will 
die,"  he  said,  "  like  De  Seso." 

He  was  in  the  prime  of  life,  not  thirty-three 


THE    MARTYES    OF    SrAIN.  119 

years  of  age  ;  and  among  all  the  martyrs  I  think 
none  deserve  from  us  more  honour  than  Juan 
Sanchez,  resisting  an  instinct  of  life  so  strong, 
and  braving  a  second  time  the  death  whose  bit- 
terness he  had  tasted  and  escaped. 

They  were  men  and  women  in  the  prime  of 
life,  the  greater  number  of  our  Spanish  martyrs. 
Their  sacrifice  was  no  mere  outburst  of  youthful 
enthusiasm — no  weakness  of  age  languidly  re- 
signing the  life  whose  beauty  had  faded — ^ino 
ascetic  casting  away  of  a  treasure  they  despised. 
Life  was  a  divine,  precious  gift  to  them;  and 
they  would  have  saved  it  if  they  could  with 
fidelity.  But  they  yielded  it  up  in  its  prime 
and  strength,  calmly,  deUberately,  determinedly, 
rather  than  deny  the  truth  of  God,  which  they 
had  tested.  They  yielded  themselves  up  to  a 
death,  whose  infamy  and  horrors  they  could  but 
too  well  estimate,  for  love  of  Him  who  loved 
them,  and  gave  Himself  for  them.  And  He  will 
never  forget  it. 


120  THE    MAKTTES    OF    SPAIN. 


CHAPTER  YII. 

IT  remains  only  for  me  to  collect  such  further 
fi-agments  of  information  as  readied  us  at  va- 
rious times,  by  \arious  means,  of  the  crushing  of 
the  Reformed  churches  in  other  parts  of  Spain. 

The  four  Autos-da-J^e  Vt'hich.  gave  the  death- 
blow to  the  Reformation  in  Spain,  were  those  in 
May  and  October,  1559,  at  Valladolid,  of  which 
I  have  spoken ;  and  two  great  aulos  at  Seville, 
in  September,  1559,  and  December,  1560.  Be- 
sides these,  tidings  were  brought  to  us  of  some 
of  our  brethren  who  perished  at  many  smaller 
aittos  in  Arragon,  Valencia,  Murcia,  and  Old 
Castile.  In  some  cities  these  terrible  spectacles 
became  for  a  time  an  annual  celebration.  But 
the  number  of  Lutherans  who  apjDeared  in 
them  gradually  diminished,  until  after  1571  we 
scarcely  heard  of  one.  The  work  of  the  Inquis- 
itors in  this  resj)ect  was  accomplished.  The 
prophets  sent  to  Spain  were  killed  or  banished ; 
and  the  love  which  would  have  gathered  her 
children  beneath  its  shelter  was,  for  our  genera- 
tion at  least,  effectually  repelled. 

But  let  me  relate  first  what  I  have  learned  of 
our  brethren  at  Seville. 


THE    MAETITES    OF   SPAIN-,  121 

Of  the  four  first  teachers  of  the  evangelical' 
doctrine  at  Seville  in  1558,  (that  fatal  year  to  us,) 
only  one  remained.  Rodrigo  de  Valero  had 
died  in  the  monastery  at  San  Lucar  ;  Master 
Vargas  also  was  dead  ;  ^gidius  had  sunk  be- 
neath the  pressure  of  his  suiFerings  and  his 
regrets.  Only  Constantine  Ponce  de  la  Fuente 
was  left.  Suspected  indeed  he  was  "  violently" 
of  Lutheranism,  and  had  been  for  many  years, 
and  detested  by  the  Inquisitors.  But  he  was 
too  great  and  too  popular  a  man  to  be  arrested 
without  a  show  of  justice,  and  evidence  was 
difficult  to  find.  The  Emperor  Charles  held  him 
in  hiffh  esteem.  His  Protestant  friends  would 
have  died  rather  than  betray  him  ;  and  his  own 
keen  insight  into  character  had  preserved  him 
from  trusting  traitors.  At  length,  however,  he 
was  arrested  on  siispicion  of  heresy.  Yet  even 
then  his  answers  baffled  the  examiners,  and  they 
could  not  make  out  a  satisfactory  process 
against  him.  Accident,  however,  delivered  him 
into  their  power. 

A  Protestant  lady  of  wealth,  Dofia  Isabella 
,  Martinia,  had  been  thrown  into  prison  on  sus- 
picion of  heresy.  Before  her  imprisonment,  Con- 
stantine had  concealed  some  of  his  Lutheran 
books  in  her  house.  The  Inquisitors  learned, 
through  the  treachery  of  one  of  her  servants, 
that  she  had  concealed  her  jewels  in  the  house 
of  her  son,  Francisco  Beltrano.  To  his  house 
the  alguazil  of  the  Holy  Office  went.  Francisco, 
11 


122  THE   MAETTKS    OF    SPAIN. 

however,  hoped  to  divert  the  search  of  the  In- 
quisitors from  the  jewels  by  betraying  the  treas- 
ure, more  j^erilous  and  precious  than  jewels, 
which  lay  hid  in  his  mother's  house  ;  and  he  met 
tlie  emissaries  of  the  Inquisition  at  the  door  with 
the  eager  confession  : 

"  Seilor  Sotelo,  are  you  come  to  my  house?  I 
believe  you  come  for  things  which  are  in  the 
house  of  itiy  mother.  If  you  will  keep  me  from 
harm,  I  will  declare  to  you  what  is  there  in  con- 
cealment." 

And  receiving  the  promise,  he  guided  the 
alguazil  to  the  cellar  under  his  mother's  house, 
wliere  were  concealed  many  of  the  most  un- 
questionably Lutheran  manuscripts  and  books 
of  Constantine  Ponce  de  la  Fuente.  Francisco 
Beltrano's  treachery  availed  the  Inquisitors 
much,  but  was  of  no  use  to  himself.  The  al- 
guazil, whilst  greedily  seizing  the  books,  de- 
clared that  his  promise  to  Beltrano  was  of  no 
value,  since  it  was  not  books  he  sought,  but 
jewels.  Francisco  was  only  too  happy  to  pur- 
chase his  own  safety  with  the  cession  of  the 
jewels  ;  but  his  unavailing  treachery  had  mean- 
time entirely  ruined  the  cause  of  the  imprisoned 
preacher.  When  the  manuscripts  were  pre- 
sented to  Constantine,  he  at  once  saw  that  all 
hoj^e  of  defending  himself  was  over,  and  ac- 
knowledged simjDly  and  frankly  that  those 
manuscripts  were  his  own,  and  contained  his 
confession  of  faith.     They  were  not  merely  dec- 


THE    MARTYRS    OF    SPAIN.  123 

larations  of  evangelical  doctrine,  but  distinct 
controversial  papers  against  Purgatory,  the  in- 
vocation of  Saints,  and  other  articles  of  the 
Eoman  creed.  No  further  j^roof  was  needed. 
But  he  determinately  refused  to  betray  one 
disciple  or  friend.  Before  the  aulo^  however, 
at  which  he  would  have  suffered,  the  loathsome- 
ness of  the  dungeon  into  which  the  Inquisitors 
threw  him  had  done  the  work  of  the  flames. 
Ilis  health  foiled.  He  is  said  to  have  exclaimed 
in  his  sufl'erings  : 

"  O  God,  are  there  no  Scythians,  or  cannibals, 
or  others  more  cruel  and  inhuman  even  than 
these,  in  whose  power  thou  couldst  have  placed 
me,  rather  than  in  that  of  these  barbarians  ?" 

He  was  spared  the  torture,  or  rather  the  rack 
was  i-e-placed  by  the  worse  torture  of  the  pesti- 
lential dungeon.  But  these  sufferings  could  not 
last  long.  Life,  vigorous  and  healthy  as  it  was 
in  him,  soon  sank  in  the  contest.  Alone,  and  in 
those  dungeons  from  which  no  wail  of  anguish, 
no  heroic  confession,  no  testimony  of  triumph 
over  death  escapes,  the  chaplain  of  Charles  V, 
the  Canon  Magistral  of  Seville,  died.  Of  whom 
the  Emperor  said,  when  informed  of  his  con- 
demnation as  a  heretic,  "  You  could  not  condemn 
a  greater."  Of  his  dying  words,  none  have 
reached  us.  But  the  dungeon  is  as  open  to 
heaven  as  the  Brasero. 

Brother  Fernando,  a  monk  of  San  Isidro,  and 
a  Lutheran,  called  Olnledo,  are   said  to  have 


124  THE    MARTYRS    OP    SPAlZ^f. 

perished  at  the  same  time,  in  neighbouring  dun- 
geons, of  atmosj)here  as  pestilential,  from  the 
same  cause  as  Constantine. 

The  Holy  Oflice  had  therefore  to  content  it- 
self with  burning  the  effigy  of  Constantine 
Ponce  de  la  Fuente  at  the  Auto-da-Fe  of  1560. 
But  there  were  enough  victims  left.  The  first 
Auto-da-Fe  at  Seville  was  celebrated  on  the  29th 
day  of  Septembei",  1559,  in  the  Square  of  St. 
Francis.  The  Inquisitors  there  were  probably 
at  this  time,  with  Munebrega  at  their  head,  more 
cruel  and  lawless  than  those  of  any  other  in- 
quisitorial tribunal.  The  cruelties  of  the  head 
gaoler  at  their  prison  in  the  Castle  of  Triana,  at 
length  became  so  unendurable  that  a  riot  was  ex- 
cited, and  he  was  mildly  rebuked  by  his  supe- 
riors, removed,  and  sentenced  to  carry  a  torch 
at  the  Auto-da-Fe,  where  blameless  and  holy 
men  were  remorselessly  burnt  alive.  Such  was 
the  relative  estimate  of  crimes  with  the  Inquisi- 
tion of  Seville.  But  my  concern  is  with  the 
patience  of  the  Saints,  not  with  the  sins  of  the 
jjersecutors. 

The  mitos  at  Seville  were  inferior  to  those  at 
Valladolid  in  the  splendour  of  the  company  of 
sj)ectators,  no  royal  personages  being  at  hand 
to  add  to  their  imj)ressiveness.  But  a  large  and 
distinguished  assembly  of  prelates,  nobles,  and 
ladies  of  rank,  were  present ;  and  what  the 
Seville  tribunal  lacked  in  the  grandeur  of  guests, 
was  perhaps  compensated  in  their  eyes  by  the 


TlIK    MARTYRS    OF    SPAIN".  125 

number  and  steadfastness  of  the  victims.  Eighty 
of  tlie  "  reconciled"  appeared  at  the  auto  of 
October,  1559,  and  were  sentenced  to  imprison- 
ment, a  robe  of  infamy,  or  other  penalties ;  and 
twenty-one  were  delivered  over  to  the  secular 
arm  and  burnt.  But  of  these  twenty-one  it  was 
the  glorious  distinction  that  the  Inquisition 
itself  could  scarcely  venture  to  stain  the  memory 
of  one  with  the  calumny  that  they  recanted. 

Four  of  those  who  were  burnt  alive  were 
monks  of  the  monastery  of  San  Isidro  del 
Campo.  Six  were  women.  To  three  of  these,  I 
ought  to  say,  the  Inquisitors  accorded  the  mercy 
of  the  ffarotte  before  the  stake.  The  widowed 
Isabel  de  Baena — whose  house  at  Seville  was 
what  ours,  my  grandmother  Leanor  de  Vibero's, 
had  been  at  Valladolid,  the  great  gathering- 
place  of  the  Reformed  Church — was  burnt  alive. 
For  her  no  mercy  could  be  expected.  Maria  de 
Virves,  and  Maria  de  Cornel,  two  young  ladies 
of  rank,  shared  the  same  fate. 

Maria  de  Bohorques,  a  maiden  connected  with 
the  noblest  houses  of  Andalusia,  had  been  edu- 
cated with  the  greatest  care.  She  read  Latin 
with  facility,  and  had  been  a  pupil  of  iEgidius, 
from  whom  she  learned  the  Reformed  faith. 
Her  mind  Avas  one  of  unusual  clearness  and 
power,  and  her  character  had  that  gentle  firm- 
ness which  can  endure  so  much,  ^gidius  used  to 
say  she  had  taught  him  much  ;  that  an  interview 
with  her  always  made  him  grasp  truth  more 
11* 


126  THE    MARTYES    OF    SPAIN. 

firmly  and  see  it  more  vividly.  She  was  not 
tTventy-one  Avhen  she  was  arrested  by  the  Holy 
Office.  Her  youth,  and  noble  blood,  and  many 
endowments  could  not  save  her  from  the  rack. 
She  was  severely  tortured  to  induce  her  to  im- 
jjlicate  her  friends.  But  in  vain.  The  Inquisi- 
tors were  obliged  to  confess  their  admiration  at 
the  point  of  her  replies  to  their  arguments.  On 
the  night  before  the  auto,  when  these  were  forti- 
fied by  the  announcement  of  her  terrible  sen- 
tence, they  laboured  again  to  convince  her. 
She  received  their  persuasions  with  great  polite- 
ness, but  assured  them  that,  as  to  her  salvation, 
she  was  more  anxious  about  it  than  they  could 
possibly  be,  and  would  have  renounced  her  con- 
victions long  since  could  she  have  been  convinced 
that  they  were  not  founded  on  the  Word  of 
God.  At  the  auto  the  next  morning  her  coun- 
tenance was  serene  and  cheerful,  and  she  en- 
couraged her  sisters  in  martyrdom  by  beginning 
to  chant  with  them  a  jDsalm.  This  endeavour 
procured  her  a  rare  distinction.  She  was  gagged, 
and  was  the  only  woman  on  which  this  final  in- 
dignity was  inflicted.  The  gag  was  removed 
when  her  sentence  was  read,  and  she  was  offered 
another  opportunity  to  recant.  She  replied  in  a 
clear  voice,  heard  by  all  present : 

"  I  neither  can,  nor  will  recant." 

One  of  the  Protestants,  whose  courage  had 
failed  at  the  last,  entreated  her  not  to  be  too 
confident,  but  to  weigh  again  the  arguments  of 


THE   MARTYRS    OF   SPAIN".  12'7 

the  priests.  She  upbraided  liim  for  his  irresolu- 
tion, and  said : 

"  This  is  not  the  time  to  Aveigh  arguments. 
Let  us  employ  the  few  moments  which  are  left 
us  in  meditation  on  the  death  of  the  Redeemer, 
for  Avhom  we  suffer." 

This  was  her  strength.  It  was  not  for  mere 
Protestantism,  for  a  cause,  for  doctrines,  she  had 
endured  the  loss  of  all  things,  but  for  the  living 
Saviour,  the  Son  of  God,  who  had  sacrificed  all, 
even  Himself,  for  her.  "  She  endured  as  seeing 
Him  who  is  invisible,"  the  only  source  of  endur- 
ance to  be  relied  on. 

One  more  eflort  the  priests  made  to  shake  her 
constancy.  She  was  bound  to  the  stake,  and  the 
executioners  were  preparing  to  light  the  fag- 
gots. The  friars  requested  a  brief  delay.  They 
pitied  her  so  much,  they  said,  on  account  of  her 
youth  and  talents.  Let  her  only  repeat  the  creed. 

Perhaps  she  felt  little  value  for  the  pity  which 
had  not  shrunk  from  inflicting  on  her  the  ex- 
tremity of  torture,  when  none  but  God  was 
there  to  see  and  have  compassion.  But  the 
Apostles'  Creed  was  indeed  her  faith,  and  she 
steadily  repeated  it.  Yet  even  then  she  would 
not  let  the  shadow  of  a  doubt  rest  on  the  stead- 
fastness of  her  fidelity  to  the  truth  for  which 
she  died.  At  the  stake,  with  the  faggots  around 
her,  and  the  torches  waiting  to  be  applied,  she 
calmly  proceeded  to  declare  in  what  sense  she 
believed  in  the  Holy  Catholic  Church — not  the 


128  THE    MAKTYES    OF    SPAIN. 

Church  of  the  Inquisition,  but  the  living  Church 
of  the  livinc;  Saviour. 

This  time  the  Inquisitors  had  another  method 
of  silencing  the  faithful  lips  than  by  the  gag. 
Her  last  confession  of  faith  was  interrupted  by 
the  garotte.  The  executioners  strangled  her. 
A  lifeless  body  was  bound  to  the  stake,  and  her 
confession  was  finished  in  the  presence  of  re- 
joicing angels,  and  of  their  Lord. 

Among  the  obstinate  heretics  were  Doctor 
Juan  Gonzalez  and  his  two  sisters.  He  was  of 
Moorish  descent,  but  had  become  a  priest,  and 
had  been  one  of  the  most  effective  evangelical 
preachers  in  Andalusia.  His  courage  did  not 
fail  in  the  examinations,  under  the  torture,  be- 
fore the  ignominy  of  being  despoiled  of  his 
priestly  vestments,  or  at  the  stake.  God 
strengthened  him,  and  he  thought,  like  Maria  de 
Bohorques,  not  of  enduring  merely  but  of 
strengthening  others.  At  the  doors  of  the 
prisons  of  the  Triana  he  began  to  sing  the  109th 
Psalm,  the  psalm  in  which  is  this  verse  : 

"  Let  them  curse,  but  bless  Thou." 

Oh,  there  are  unfathomed  depths  of  strength 
and  comfort  in  the  Word  of  God,  which  only 
those  who  suffer  know ! 

On  the  scaffold,  in  the  midst  of  his  own  deg- 
redation,  he  remarked,  or  thought  he  remarked, 
a  look  of  discouragement  on  the  face  of  one  of 
his  sisters,  and  addressed  to  her  some  tender 


THE    MABTYRS    OF    SPAIJST.  129 

words  of  consolation.  He  was  instantly  gag- 
ged ;  but  the  words  had  been  spoken,  and  re- 
vived the  drooping  heart.  Who  can  imagine 
what  those  meetings  on  the  scaifold  must  have 
been  ?  Brothers  and  sisters,  mothers  and  chil- 
dren, husband  and  wife,  had  been  separated  from 
each  other  for  months,  perhaps  for  years.  Dui-- 
ing  all  that  time  not  a  word  had  passed  between 
them.  It  had  been  a  separation  complete  as 
death.  ISTeither  knew  what  the  others  had 
l>assed  through,  or  how  they  had  endured.  In 
more  cases  than  one,  garbled  or  false  reports 
of  the  confession  of  one  were  brought  by  the 
Inquisitors  to  the  other,  to  perplex  or  to  per- 
suade to  recantation. 

But  on  the  morning  of  the  Auto-da-Fe  all 
these  doubts  were  over.  Those  who  had  been 
faithful  stood  once  more  together  and  knew  it. 
They  saw  one  another  again,  worn,  indeed,  by 
dungeon  and  torture,  but  unchanged  in  faith. 
This  must  have  been  a  beginning  of  the  joys  of 
Paradise.  Not  a  word  was  willingly  permitted 
between  them  ;  but  in  some  instances  even  this 
could  not  be  prevented,  as  in  the  case  of  Juan 
Gonzalez.  The  certainty  of  the  worst  had  set 
the  martyrs  beyond  the  power  of  their  perse- 
cutors, and  often  dying  words  of  mutual  en- 
couragement could  not  be  silenced.  And  at  the 
'^"ery  worst,  if  the  sufferers  were  gagged,  the  ex- 
pression of  love  and  immortal  trust  in  the  eyes 
could  not  be  quenched. 


130  THE   MARTTES    OF   SPAIN. 

To  die  thus,  together  with  the  clearest  on 
earth,  for  Ilim  in  heaven  who  loves  us  more  than 
the  dearest  on  earth,  must  surely  have  filled  the 
heart  with  a  fountain  of  joy  flames  could  do  little 
to  exhaust. 

The  Inquisitors,  having  silenced  the  brother 
Juan  Gonzalez,  made  another  eiFort  to  persuade 
his  sisters  to  insert  the  word  Roman  in  the 
creed,  which  they  were  commanded  to  repeat. 
They  longed  to  hear  the  beloved  voice  again 
which  had  tauglit  them  and  strengthened  them 
so  often.  They  said  if  their  brother  might  be 
suffered  to  speak,  they  would  say  as  he  said. 

The  gag  was  removed,  and  the  brother,  who 
had  stood  before  beside  them  like  a  guardian 
angel,  longing  that  they  might  prove  steadfast, 
but  powerless  to  speak,  w^as  again  able  to  exhort 
them  not  to  add  another  word  to  the  good  con- 
fession they  had  made. 

The  baffled  friars  gave  immediate  orders  that 
they  should  be  strangled  ;  and,  turning  to  the 
crowd,  declared  they  had  died  in  the  Roman 
faith.  But  they  have  never  dared  to  rej)eal  the 
slander  since. 

Others,  besides  these,  of  this  noble  company 
of  martyrs  spent  their  last  breath  in  encourag- 
ing one  another.  They  gave  their  bodies  to  be 
burned  ;  but  faith,  which  worketh  by  love,  and 
love  stronger  than  death,  burned  in  their  hearts 
to  the  last ;  and  we  know  assuredly  it  will  "  not 
profit    these    faithful    sufferers    nothing,"    but 


THE    MARTYRS    OF   SPAIN.  131 

much,  tlirougliont  the  ages,  that  they  thus  en- 
dured. 

The  second  grand  Auto-du-Fe  at  Seville  was 
held  on  the  22d  December,  1560.  At  this,  three 
foreigners  were  burned  alive  for  their  faith,  con- 
trary to  the  law  of  all  nations.  One  of  these 
was  Nicholas  Burton,  an  English  merchant ;  and 
the  narrative  which  reached  his  countrymen  of 
his  tortures  and  death,  was,  I  think,  better  than 
a  cargo  of  ammunition  to  the  brave  little  fleet 
which,  composed  of  volunteers  and  merchant- 
meu,  shattered  the  invincible  Armada  of  King 
Phihp. 

In  this  second  Auto-da-Fe  died  Julian  Her- 
nandez— Julianillo,  the  brave  little  colporteur 
who  had  introduced  so  many  Testaments  and 
Lutheran  books  into  Spain.  He  had  risked  his 
life  continually,  and  when  the  time  came  he 
yielded  it  up  as  Avillingly.  He,  like  so  many  of 
the  auto  in  the  preceeding  year,  when  brought 
into  the  court  of  the  Triana  on  the  mornina:  of 
the  execution,  thought  chiefly  of  aiding  his  fel- 
low-suflerers.  "  Courage,  comrades  !"  he  said. 
"  This  is  the  hour  in  which  we  must  show  our- 
selves valiant  soldiers  of  Jesus  Christ !  Let  us 
now  bear  faithful  testimony  to  His  truth  before 
men,  and  within  a  few  hours  we  shall  receive 
the  testimony  of  His  approbation  before  angels, 
and  triumph  with  Him  in  heaven." 

"  Withm  a  few  hours"  and  ^'■for  Christ,''''  and 
'■'■  ivith  Him.'''     It  was  the  old  Christian  battle- 


132  THE    MARTYRS    OF    SPAIN. 

cry,  iinchangecl  from  the  days  of  Stephen,  and 
Paul,  and  Polycarp,  and  the  martyrs  of  Vienne. 

Not  for  the  Reformation,  for  justification  by 
faith,  not  for  a  theory,  not  even  for  a  principle, 
but  for  the  living  human  and  divine  Person,  for 
loyalty  to  a  King,  for  fidelity  to  a  Friend 
who  had  died  for  them.  They  laid  doAvn  their 
lives  for  Christ. 

Julian  Hernandez  was  silenced  immediately  by 
the  gag.  At  the  stake,  with  the  fervour  of  tlio 
character  which  had  nerved  him  for  his  life  of 
adventure,  he  knelt  and  pressed  his  silenced  lips 
to  the  stone  on  which  the  stake  was  erected. 
Then  he  rose  and  laid  his  head  amona:  the  fasr- 
gots,  as  if  to  welcome  them.  When  bound  to 
the  stake,  he  bowed  his  head  meekly  in  prayer. 
Doctor  Fernando  Rodriguez,  one  of  the  friars 
near,  himself  a  recreant,  flattered  himself  this 
was  at  last  a  sign  of  yielding  ;  and  the  gag  was 
removed,  that  Julianillo  might  have  another  op- 
portunity to  recant.  But  he  firmly  confessed 
his  own  faith,  and  then  reproached  Rodriguez 
with  betraying  his. 

Doctor  Rodriguez  had  a  reply  in  his  power, 
which  he  did  not  fail  to  use. 

"  Shall  Spain,"  he  exclaimed,  "  the  conqueror 
and  misti'ess  of  nations,  have  her  peace  dis- 
turbed by  a  dwarf?  Executioners,  do  your 
office." 

The  faggots  were  kindled;  and  the  guards, 
whether    in    mercy    or    contempt,   ended    the 


THE    MAKTYKS    OF    SPAIN.  133 

dwarf-martyr's  suffering  by  thrusting  their  lances 
into  his  body. 

At  this  Axito-da-Fe,  also,  as  at  the  preceding 
one,  a  family  group  were  reunited. 

Maria  Gomez,  whose  temporary  insanity  had 
so  nearly  betrayed  the  Reformed  Church  a  few 
years  before,  appeared  on  the  scaffold  with  her 
three  daughters  and  a  sister.  It  seems  to  have 
been  from  the  sister  that  the  four  others  first  re- 
ceived the  evangelical  doctrine ;  at Jeast  this  was 
the  case  with  one  of  the  girls — for  on  the  scaf- 
fold she  went  up  to  her  aunt,  and,  kneeling  be- 
fore her,  thanked  her  for  all  she  had  taught  her, 
implored  forgiveness  for  any  offense  she  might 
have  given  her,  and  asked  for  her  dying  blessing. 

What  this  "  offense"  Avas  which  weighed  on. 
the  poor  girl's  conscience,  we  know  not.  Per- 
haps some  words,  confessing  that  her  aunt  had 
been  her  teacher  in  Christian  truth,  extorted  by 
the  agony  of  torture  ;  perhaps  only  some  little 
omissions  or  misunderstandings,  which  seem  so 
great  when  the  heart  is  made  tender  by  the  ap- 
proach of  death.  However  this  may  be,  the  aged 
aunt  raised  her  niece  with  her  feeble  arms,  and 
assured  her  she  had  never  given  her  a  moment's 
pain ;  and  then  she  reminded  the  young  girl  of 
the  support  their  Divine  Saviour  had  promised 
in  the  hour  of  trial,  and  of  the  joy  set  before  them, 
when  these  few  moments  of  anguish  were  over. 

After  this  the  five  women  embraced,  and  bid 
each  other  farewell,  with  tender  words  of  mur 
12 


134  THE    MAETYES    OF    SPAIN. 

tual  comfort.  And  thus  they  were  bound  to- 
gether to  the  stakes,  and  died  together  in  the 
flames.  They  need  scarcely  have  taken  leave  of 
one  another.  The  words  of  farewell  could 
scarcely  have  died  away  when  they  were  ex- 
changed in  the  other  world  for  the  Avords  of 
welcome  ;  such  welcome  as  martyrs  may  give 
and  receive  in  Paradise — receive  from  one 
another,  from  angels,  and  from  Christ. 

Of  many  others  who  thus  suffered,  no  dying 
words  have  been  borne  us,  and  no  details  of 
their  last  moments.  But  even  of  what  we  have 
heard  I  cannot  speak  at  length.  I  have  chiefly 
selected  such  incidents  as  show  the  voluntary 
nature  of  the  sufferings  of  our  martyrs,  and  the 
love  which  glowed  in  their  hearts  to  the  last  to 
one  another  and  to  God. 

They  were  tortured,  not  accepting  deliverance. 
They  fought  the  battle  with  the  Tempter  inch 
by  inch  ;  for  at  point  after  point  some  mitigation 
of  the  threatened  doom  was  offered  them  as  the 
price  of  recantation,  even  up  to  the  stake,  when 
the  garotte,  in  place  of  the  dreadful  flames,  was 
held  out  as  the  reward  for  inserting  the  one 
word  "  Roman"  into  the  Creed. 

It  is  this  which  ennobles  the  Autos-da-Fe  for 
us  from  a  slaughter  into  a  sacrifice,  from  a  scaf- 
fold into  an  altar.  The  martyrs  of  Spain  were 
not  victims  merely,  they  were  willing  sacrifices ; 
they  were  not  slain,  they  offered  up  themselves. 
The  Spirit  of  Him  who  could  to  the  last  have 


THE    MARTYRS    OF    SPAIX.  135 

called  down  legions  of  angels,  and  saved  Him- 
self, and  come  down  from  the  cross,  and  did 
not,  but  saved  ?/.<?,  was  also  '^  those  ChristiaYis — 
in  Him  without  measure,  in  them  in  measure. 
Not,  indeed,  that  they  could  have  exchanged 
the  anguish  and  shame  for  visible  victory  and 
glory,  as  He  might  have  done  ;  but  step  by 
step,  the  rack,  the  pulley,  the  flames  might  have 
been  evaded,  and  they  were  not  evaded,  but 
fully  borne.  One,  Dr.  Fernando  de  San  Juan, 
calmly  argued  with  the  priests  at  the  foot  of 
the  stake  in  Latin.  Another,  a  poor  servant, 
Juan  Sanchez,  at  Yalladolid,  returned  volunta- 
rily to  the  flames  he  had  escaped,  rather  than 
join  the  band  of  penitents.  We  owe  much  to 
the  friars  and  priests  who  harassed  the  last  mo- 
ments of  the  martyrs  with  their  vain  entreaties 
and  offers  of  mercy,  because  they  proved  this. 

It  is  this  which  ennobles  the  martyr's  death  ; 
although  I  trust  the  sufferings  of  many  in  sick- 
beds, perhaps  as  acute  as  the  rack  and  the 
flames,  may  in  God's  sight  be  as  voluntary, 
because  the  suflerer  ennobles  them  by  acqui- 
escence. Willing  submission,  springing  from 
trusting  love,  may  indeed  raise  any  suflerings 
into  sacrifices,  for  God  loveth  a  cheerful  giver. 
In  all  sacrifices  it  is  the  oflering  up  of  self,  not 
of  things,  which  is  precious — the  love,  and  not 
the  mere  act.  But  the  testimony  to  the  world 
of  these  voluntary  public  deaths  for  truth  is  in- 
deed a  glorious  service — serving  the  world  by 


136  THE    MARTTKS    OF    SPAIX. 

proving  the  reality  of  invisible  things,  and  the 
Church,  among  other  things,  by  proving  that 
suffering  is  serving. «. 

But  what  can  we  think  of  the  persecutors  ? 
We  should  never  think  of  them  except  with  the 
remembrance  that  the  Apostle  Paul  was  once  a 
persecutor  ;  that  among  the  very  Inquisitors,  be- 
sides hypocrites  and  covetous  men,  who  perse- 
cuted for  gain,  and  vain  men  and  traitors,  who 
persecuted  from  fear,  were  men  of  intense  con- 
scientious convictions,  who  believed  that  in  in- 
flicting torture  they  were  doing  God  service, 
cutting  off"  the  gangrened  limb  to  save  the  body, 
l^erhaps  even  destroying  the  body  to  save  the 
soul. 

Of  such  perhaps  Vv^as  Caranza,  a  "  Black  friar" 
of  England,  afterwards  himself  a  sufferer  for 
seventeen  years,  on  suspicion  of  Lutheran  heresy, 
Avhich  he  could  certainly  have  avoided  by  simply 
retracting  all  suspected  statements.  Among 
such  honest  but  deluded  consciences  we  have 
more  than  one  instance  of  conversion  (like  St. 
Paul's)  to  the  truth  they  had  sought  to  uproot. 
It  is  by  keeping  steadily  in  view  how  voluntary 
were  the  martyrs'  sufferings,  and  also  by  re- 
membering that  the  persecutors  were  not  devils 
(as  it  is  so  easy  to  consider  them),  but  men,  who 
might  yet  be  saved,  and  themselves  transformed 
into  martyrs,  that  thinking  of  these  terrible 
autos  can  soften  our  hearts  or  do  us  any  good ; 
otherwise  their  contemplation  would  be  harden- 


THE   MARTYRS    OF   SPAIN".  137 

ing  and  embittering  as  that  of  any  other  story 
of  wrong  and  crime. 

One  other  lesson  has  also  been  deeply  im- 
pressed on  our  hearts  by  these  persecutions — 
that  there  is  no  strength  in  the  highest  Christian 
to  be  relied  on  but  such  as  is  daily  drawn  from 
Christ.  Those  from  whom  we  expected  most 
did  not  always  bear  the  noblest  testimony. 
Those  from  whose  gentle,  and  timid,  retiring 
characters  we  expected  little,  sometimes  shoAved 
the  most  unflinching  courage.  One  of  the  most 
striking  examples  of  the  last  fact  was  Dr.  Garcia 
de  Arias,  called  the  Maestro  Blanco,  on  account 
of  his  white  hair.  Timid  and  temporizing,  so  as 
to  perplex  his  best  friends,  while  the  danger 
only  threatened  at  a  distance,  when  he  was  at 
length  brought  to  trial,  he  expressed  regret  that 
he  had  not  spoken  more  boldly  before.  He  even 
carried  the  war  into  the  enemy's  quarters  ;  and 
not  content  with  answering  their  arguments, 
perplexed  his  examiners  with  unanswerable 
questions  and  unasked  proofs.  Feeble  with  age, 
he  ascended  the  scaffold  leaning  on  a  staff,  and 
Avas  bound  to  the  stake  with  a  countenance 
beaming  with  joy.  Much  as  this  noble  conduct 
of  his  perplexed  both  friend  and  foe,  can  we 
not  understand  it  ?  Can  Ave  not  imagine  the 
joy  Avith  which,  Avhen  at  length  he  cast  aside  all 
his  cautious  schemes  for  self-preserA'ation,  and 
ventured  himself  AA'holly  on  Christ,  he  must 
have  learned  hoAV  free  the  single-hearted  are, 
12* 


138  THE    MARTYKS    OF    SPAHST. 

and  how  strong  that  almighty  arm  can  make 
the  tread  of  the  weakest  who  lean  on  Him  ? 

The  second  grand  Auto-da-Fe  at  Seville  in  De- 
cember, 1560,  closes  the  most  important  page  of 
our  new  Spanish  martyrology.  But  from  time 
to  time  we  received  tidings  of  one  and  another 
burnt  alive  and  condemned  to  other  penalties 
for  Lutheranism  at  Toledo,  Grenada,  Saragossa, 
Logrofio,  and  in  Valencia  and  Murcia.  It  was 
in  this  way  only  that  we  obtained  any  tidings  of 
the  progress  of  the  evangelical  doctrine  in  Spain. 
When,  among  criminals  condemned  for  the  worst 
offenses— for  bigamy,  sorcery,  and  other  infamous 
crimes,  or  for  relapsing  into  Judaism  or  Moham- 
medanism— we  heard  of  one  or  two,  or  more, 
burnt  or  condemned  to  penance,  as  Lutherans  or 
Hufruenots,  we  knew  that  the  truth  was  not 
quenched  in  that  district,  that  some  had  been 
found  faithful  enough  to  speak  the  message  of 
our  reconciliation  through  the  One  Sacrifice; 
and  we  trusted  that  for  each  one  who  had 
spoken  and  suffered  there  might  be  many  who, 
though  too  confused  in  thought  or  weak  in  faith 
to  speak,  had  yet  listened  and  believed. 

At  Logrono  the  Inquisitors  were  exhorted  by 
the  superior  tribunals  to  more  vigilance,  because 
Philip,  ambassador  to  Queen  Elizabeth,  wrote 
that  the  English  boasted  the  Reformed  doctrine 
still  found  adherents  in  Spain,  and  especially  in 
Navarre.  For  many  years,  at  least  until  1568, 
by  the  confession  of  the  Inquisition,  there  were 


THE    MARTYES    OF    SrAIK.  139 

found  many  at  Logroiio  who  followed  the  doc- 
tnne  they  had  learned  from  Don  Carlos  de  Seso, 
burned  at  Valladolid  m  1559;  receiving  the 
books  of  their  sect  by  sea,  or  across  the  moun- 
tains from  France.  It  seems,  therefore,  that  Ju- 
lianillo  also  had  his  successors. 

The  Inquisition  of  Toledo  was  so  zealous,  and 
multiplied  victims  so  fast,  that  the  inhabitants 
of  one  town,  St.  Cifuentes,  in  the  province  of 
Guadalajara,  sent  an  entreaty  to  the  Pope,  that 
the  Sanbenitos  of  the  condemned  might  be  re- 
moved from  their  parish  church,  because  the 
walls  of  their  church  were  so  tapestried  with 
these  robes  of  infamy,  painted  with  flames,  toads, 
and  devils,  that  it  filled  them  with  horror  in  at- 
tending the  services. 

Gradually,  however,  as  I  have  said,  after  ten 
or  twelve  years,  we  ceased  to  receive  those  ti- 
dings of  the  sufferings  of  our  brethren,  so  full 
of  pain,  and  yet  of  hope,  for  us. 

Mohammedans  were  still  burnt  at  the  Autos- 
da-Fe^  and  relapsed  Jews  and  criminals  ;  but  the 
name  of  Lutherans  and  Huguenots  disappeared 
from  the  terrible  lists. 

Spain  remains  "  the  Catholic."  Many  of  her 
noblest  families  will,  no  doubt,  find  means  to  ob- 
literate the  taint  which  heresy  has  brought  on 
their  "  old  Christian"  blood.  The  names  of  the 
martyrs  will  be  blotted  out  of  the  noble  pedi- 
grees to  which  so  many  of  them  belong,  and  wiU. 
be  forgotten. 


140  THE    MAKTYRS    OF    SPAIN. 

But  will  tbe  Inquisition  do  for  Castile  what 
the  Bible  vrould  have  done  had  it  been  allowed 
free  access  to  our  countrymen  ?  Will  the  Auios- 
da-Fe  teach  them  Christianity  as  the  Gospels 
would  have  taught  it  ?  Will  Spain  be  always 
what  Rodriguez  called  her,  "  queen  and  mistress 
among  the  nations  ?"  Or  will  her  misused  pow- 
ers, like  her  Armada,  disperse  into  nothing  be- 
fore the  breath  of  God,  or  crumble  into  nothing 
by  its  own  hollowness  ?  The  Inquisitors  have 
indeed  silenced  the  Reformed  teachers  in  the 
land.  With  what  woi'ds  will  they  fill  the 
silence  ?  Hearts  there  may  indeed  be  now,  and 
always,  in  every  city,  convent,  and  village  which 
may  be  opened  to  the  truth,  and  love,  and  God, 
and  silently  transformed  by  Ilim.  But  for 
Spain,  will  Rome  ever  do  for  her  what  that  no- 
ble band  of  Christian  men  and  women  could 
have  done,  trained  and  endowed  as  they  were 
by  God  to  be  the  teachers  aud  leaders  of  a 
nation  ? 

I  have  spoken  little  of  those  who,  like  our- 
selves, escaped  from  the  storm  of  persecution  in 
our  country  by  flight.  There  were  many.  The 
Protestant  churches  of  Geneva,  France,  and 
England  received  us  cordially. 

Queen  Ehzabeth,  prudent  and  cautious  as  she 
is,  has  steadfastly  resisted  all  demands  to  yield 
our  brethren  up  to  our  enemies.  Testimony  has 
been  rendered  them  by  a  Bishop  of  the  English 
Church,  which  we  accept.      He  speaks  of  the 


THE    MARTYRS    OF   SPAIN.  141 

Protestant  Spaniards  taking  refuge  in  England 
for  the  faith  as  "  few,  jioor,  and  miserable,  de- 
spoiled of  all,  driven  from  their  country."  It  is 
true.  The  words  are  spoken  with  a  tender  and 
reverent  pity,  for  he  acknowledges  them  as 
"  brethren,  afflicted  members  of  Christ,  com- 
pelled to  bear  His  cross."  And  he  says  of  the 
four  thousand  Reformed  Christians  who  have 
found  a  haven  in  England  from  persecution  in 
Italy,  Spain,  and  the  Netherlands :  "  They  are 
our  brethren.  They  live  not  idly.  If  they  take 
houses  of  us,  they  pay  rent  for  them.  They  beg 
not  in  our  streets,  nor  crave  any  thing  at  our 
hands  but  to  breathe  our  air  and  see  our  sitn. 
They  labour  truly,  they  live  sparefully.  They 
are  good  examples  of  virtue,  travail,  faith,  and 
patience.  The  towns  in  which  they  abide  are 
happy,  for  God  doth  follow  them  with  his  bless- 

ms;. 

But  our  hearts,  in  spite  of  all  the  brotherly 
welcome  we  have  had,  are  still  in  our  country. 
It  cannot  content  us  to  see  the  jiure  Church  of 
Christ  openly  planted  in  other  lands ;  we  want 
it  to  take  root  in  Spain.  We  are  Christians 
first,  and  therefore  find  a  home  wherever  our 
brethren  are.  But  we  are  also  Spaniards,  and  we 
must  be  exiles  out  of  Spain.  There  is  also  a 
gravity  and  reserve  about  our  national  character 
which,  perhaps,  makes  us  more  lonely  than  oth- 
ers, of  a  lighter  character,  in  a  foreign  land. 

The  best  among  us  are  still  labouring  for  the 


142  THE    MAETTES    OP    SPAIN. 

sjjread  of  evangelical  truth  throughout  our  coun- 
try. Montanus  writes  the  history  of  our  mar- 
tyrs. Cassiodoro  de  Reyna  and  Cipriano  de 
Valera  re-translate  the  Bible  into  Castilian. 

Will  these  narratives  of  our  martyrs  yet  en- 
courage others  to  witness,  and  perhaps  to  bear 
a  witness  the  Holy  Office  shall  at  last  be  unable 
to  suppress  ? 

Will  this  sacred  Word  of  God,  through  the 
translations  of  our  brethren,  yet  find  its  way 
into  our  country,  and  sow  the  precious  seed 
there  m  happier  times — seed  that  shall  not  only 
ripen,  as  it  has  done,  for  the  garner  of  God,  but 
spring  up  irrepressibly  on  all  sides,  till  all  the 
land  sliall  be  filled  with  the  blessing  ? 

Who  can  say?  But  with  the  Word  of  God 
in  our  hands,  and  His  faith  and  love  in  our 
hearts,  w^hat  power  can  banish  hoj^e  ? 

"ISTow  abideth  these  three,  faith,  hope,  and 
charity."  And  if  the  greatest  of  these  is  love, 
it  is  a  love  which  "hopeth  all  things,"  a  love 
whose  upward  gaze  is  faith,  and  whose  forward 
gaze  is  hope.     For, 

"  Stronger  is  He  that  is  in  you,  than  he  that  is 
in  the  world." 


THE  LIBERATIOi^  OF  HOLLAND. 


THE    LIBEEATION    OF    HOLLAND.  145 


I. 


h 


MY  sister  Dolores  has  often  said  that  when 
first  we  came  from  Spain  to  Antwerj),  where 
my  husband,  Mark  van  Rosevelt,  lived  at  that 
time,  it  seemed  to  her  like  having  died  and 
passed  into  a  world  of  shadows,  such  as  the  old 
Pagans  imagined.  But  to  me  it  could  not  be 
the  same.  The  world,  which  was  Mark's  and 
our  child's,  could  not  but  seem  like  home  to  me ; 
too  much  like  home,  I  used  to  be  afraid,  some- 
times. 

It  seemed,  I  feared,  almost  heartless  to  be 
building  another  home  so  soon  on  the  crumbling 
soil  from  which  I  had  seen  the  whole  of  my  for- 
mer world  fall  at  once  into  the  ocean.  But  I 
am  not  afraid  of  it  now.  I  do  not  think  the 
command  to  live  "  as  pilgrims  and  strangers " 
means  "rejoice  in  nothing,"  but  "be  careful  for 
nothing."  God  does  not,  I  think,  desire  us  to 
tremble,  as  if  we  were  living  in  a  world  without 
foundations,  hanging  over  a  void ;  but  to  trust, 
as  those  who  live  in  a  world  founded  on  His 
word,  and  hanging  on  the  firm  support  of  His 
loving  will.  When  He  wills,  we  know  the  whole 
13 


146  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

universe  will  fold  up  and  be  changed  ;  bat  then 
we  shall  have  the  support  of  His  arm  with  noth- 
ing intervening.     And  that  will  be  as  well. 

But  for  Dolores  it  was  so  different.  Her 
Avhole  world  had  perished,  all  but  me ;  and  ten- 
der as  she  was  to  me — my  second  mother — I 
could  see  she  sometimes  thought  me  guilty  of  a 
kind  of  disloyalty  in  looking  forward  instead  of 
backward.  But  I  could  not  help  it,  because  of 
Mark  and  the  child.  And  then  it  was  a  long 
time  before  Dolores  understood  Mark.  They 
never  said  so  ;  but  I  could  feel  they  did  not  un- 
derstand each  other.  Dolores  thought  Mark 
phlegmatic,  cautious,  and  cold.  She  ought  not 
certainly,  Avhen  he  had  risked  life  and  all  to 
save  us.  But  he  had  a  way  of  making  sacri- 
fices, as  if  they  were  no  sacrifices,  which  I  have 
often  regretted  ;  because  I  think  people  often 
believed  him,  and  thought  he  was  doing  just 
what  he  liked,  when  he  was  yielding  his  dear- 
est wishes  for  others.  And  besides,  I  believe 
Dolores  would  have  thought  nothing  a  sacri- 
fice which  was  done  for  me.  She  loved  me 
for  what  she  had  sufiered  for  me,  as  women  do. 
She  thought  it  quite  natural  that  any  one  should 
be  ready  to  risk  life  as  she  had  done  for  me. 
But  that  was  not  just  to  3Iark.  And  on  his 
side,  I  could  see  that  Mark  thought  her  too  fer- 
vent, impetuous,  and  Southern  ;  and  to  counter- 
act these  tendencies,  put  on  his  coolest  and  most 
deliberate  manner  in  her  presence,  which   was 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  147 

very  provoking  to  me.  But,  of  course,  all  my 
attempts  to  explain  only  made  matters  worse, 
_  so  that  at  last  I  left  it  to  circumstances  to  inter- 
pret these  two  to  each  other,  and  had  to  content 
myself  meanwhile  with  the  conviction  that  I  un- 
derstood them  both, 

Dolores,  moreover,  did  not  at  first  at  all  com- 
prehend or  like  the  Flemish  character  and  life. 
She  thought  the  merchants  calculating  and 
money-loving  ;  the  people  free-spoken,  to  inso- 
lence ;  the  women  sadly  wanting  in  reserve  and 
habits  of  keeping  at'  home.  She  was  disposed 
to  be  offended,  even  with  the  very  houses  for 
looking  so  much  out  of  window  into  the  streets, 
instead  of  modestly  contemplating  their  own 
court-yards ;  and  with  the  furniture,  for  being 
so  luxurious  and  effeminate.  She  did  not  con- 
sider that  the  luxuries  of  the  sunny  South  are 
air  and  water  and  space,  flowers  and  shade,  cool 
marble  courts,  and  halls  containing  indeed  Httle 
but  necessary  furniture,  but  beautiful  with  the 
flickering  shade  of  vines,  and  musical  with  foun- 
tains;  and  that  here,  in  the  gray  and  sober 
North,  these  are  only  poorly  re-placed  by  rich 
carpets,  tapestries,  and  pictures.  But  Dolores 
had  not  Mark  as  a  link,  and  could  not  at  once  be 
at  home  with  the  free  Northern  people,  as  I  nat- 
urally became  through  him. 

I  can  never  forget  the  sadness  of  my  sister's 
look  during  those  first  months  of  our  exile.  If 
to  her  the  whole  of  the  busy,  noisy  world  around 


148  THE    LIBEKATIOX    OF    HOLLAND. 

.hev  seemed  shadowy,  to  us  she  seemed  herself 
too  hke  a  silent  shadow,  noiselessly  and  mechani- 
cally moving  about,  as  one  that  belonged  to  us  no 
more,  but  was  slowly  gliding  from  our  midst. 
She  shed  no  tears,  and  made  no  complaints,  but 
it  seemed  as  if  her  wdiole  bodily  life  had  concen- 
trated itself  in  the  large  dark  penetrating  eyes. 
Their  gaze  haunted  me.  It  was  as  if  they  had 
looked  beyond  all  things  visible  to  us  into  the 
unseen  Avorld.  No  tears  moistened  them ;  no 
smile  ever  brightened  them  ;  no  sleep  seemed  to 
veil  them ;  for  if  at  night'  I  ventured  anxiously 
to  her  bedside  to  see  if  she  was  at  rest,  the  same 
lanceasing,  steadfast,  spiritual  gaze  met  mine. 
At  times,  indeed,  their  expression  would  change. 
When  any  truth  about  God,  or  Christ,  and  the 
eternal  w^orld  was  spoken  of,  or  when  any  nar- 
rative was  related  of  martyrdom,  or  of  faithful 
confession  of  the  truth,  the  solemn,  penetrating, 
passionless  gaze  would  change  to  an  upw'ard 
look  of  lofty  confidence.  To  the  stories  of  Flem- 
ish and  Dutch  martyrs,  of  which  there  were, 
alas  !  such  countless  numbers,  she  w^ould  have 
listened  for  ever.  Her  spirit  seemed  to  have 
made  its  home  on  these  terrible  heights,  and 
only  to  descend  to  the  common  interests  of  life 
with  a  patient  tolerance  which  made  me  sadder 
tlian  any  agony  of  grief  would  have  done.  I 
was  so  afraid  my  sister,  my  guardian  angel,  my 
only  relic  of  the  world  we  had  lost,  w^as  fading 
away  from   us   altogether.     Not  that   she  was 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  149 

self-contained  or  gloomily  silent,  but  she  seemed 
to  have  lost  all  sense  of  proportion  between 
earthly  things,  and  would  listen  to  Mark's  plans 
for  the  deliverance  of  his  country,  or  to  my  dis- 
cussions of  how  to  furnish  a  room,  with  the  same 
disinterested  courtesy,  evidently  caring  for  the 
things  only  because  Ave  cared  for  them. 

We  all  tried  our  various  ways  to  comfort  her. 
My  sister-in-law  Christina,  the  Vrow  van  Broek, 
used  to  send  her  fruits,  and  poultry,  and  various 
dainties  from  her  farm  near  the  city,  and  insist 
on  taking  her  to  see  the  rural  or  civic  sights  she 
thought  of  interest. 

"  We  must  not  let  her  dwell  on  the  past,  sister 
Costanza,"  she  would  say.  "  I  know  too  well  what 
that  is.  When  my  Hansken  died,  I  would  have 
liked  to  shut  myself  up  for  ever  ;  but  my  hus- 
band knew  better ;  and  after  a  time — a  proper 
time,  you  know,  must  be  allowed  for  every  visi- 
tation— he  surprised  me  with  a  new  coach,  made 
by  the  coachmaker  of  the  Duchess  Margaret 
herself,  and  insisted  on  my  joining  the  proces- 
sion when  he  was  elected  president  of  the  great 
company  of  clothiers.  I  shrank  from  it,  indeed, 
just  as  Dolores  does ;  but  I  made  the  effort,  I 
felt  it  was  my  duty,  and  from  that  time  I  began 
to  recover." 

To  Vrow  van  Broek,  I  thought  bereavements 
were  like  illnesses,  the  rallying  from  which  de- 
pends partly  on  physical  constitution,  and  partly 
on  the  determination  of  the  patient. 
13* 


150  THE    LIBEEATION    OF    IIOLLAJfD. 

Ursel,  my  husband's  unmarried  sister,  took 
entirely  another  view  of  the  matter.  She  said, 
"  My  sister  Christina  means  very  well,  but  she 
is  entirely  mistaken  about  Dolores.  Grief  like 
hers  cannot  be  distracted  by  the  amusements  of 
the  world.  It  is  meant  to  raise  us  above  the 
world,  and  its  poor  transitory  follies ;  to  detach 
our  hearts  from  the  creature,  and  fix  them  on 
the  Creator.  And,  as  far  as  I  can  see,  this  work 
is  being  accomplished  in  your  sister.  She  seems 
raised  above  all  earthly  pleasures  and  cares,  and 
to  be  altogether  in  a  very  exalted  state  of  mind. 
It  would  be  well  if  we  could  all  resemble  her 
more.  I  can  see  her  in  Christina's  coach,  gaz- 
ing at  the  empty  vanities  of  the  processions  and 
the  feasts  without  a  change  of  countenance. 
But  her  whole  face  changes,  and  looks  as  grand 
as  an  angel's,  when  I  tell  her  of  the  sufferings  of 
our  brethren  for  the  faith ;  of  the  two  young 
brothers  who  were  burnt  at  Tournay  ;  of  those 
who  were  cut  alive  into  pieces ;  of  others  who 
were  broken  on  the  wheel,  or  racked  to  death ; 
of  those  who  were  slowly  roasted  at" 

"  But,  dear  Ursel,"  I  said,  endeavouring  my- 
self to  escape  this  recital  of  horrors,  "  I  am 
afraid  such  narratives  drive  sleep  from  her  eyes, 
and  will  end  in  making  her  an  angel  indeed." 

"  Ah,"  said  Ursel,  compassionately,  seeing  the 
tears  in  my  eyes,  "  we  are  not  all  strong  enough 
for  these  things  ;  but  Dolores  and  I  understand 
each  other." 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  151 

Then  I  had  my  own  j^lan  of  consolation,  more 
foolish,  I  have  thought  since,  than  any  one's.  I 
persuaded  Mark,  against  his  judgment,  to  fit  up 
a  room  for  Dolores,  something  like  the  old  room 
we  used  to  sit  in  together  at  Valladolid.  It 
was  a  little  room  on  the  back  of  the  house,  look- 
ing to  the  south,  over  the  Scheldt,  and  opening 
on  a  low  roof.  "We  had  the  roof  .surrounded 
with  stone  balustrades,  and  brought  earth  on  it, 
and  placed  large  vases  with  flowering  shrubs  in 
them,  and  had  water  couA-eyed  with  much  difii- 
culty  into  a  marble  basin,  from  which  it  trickled 
among  the  flowers.  Then  we  bought  a  harp  like 
the  one  Dolores  used  to  delight  in  ;  and  books, 
the  Spanish  translation  of  Luther  on  the  Gala- 
tians,  and  the  Castilian  Bible.  The  floor  was 
of  inlaid  wood,  with  onl)'-  a  Persian  rug  under- 
neath her  couch.  The  sunshine  came  in  through 
Venetians ;  and,  in  my  childishness,  I  had  thought 
it  would  make  her  feel  like  home. 

On  her  birthday  we  took  her  into  it.  But  I 
can  never  lose  the  recollection  of  the  anguish 
which  met  me  in  her  face,  when  I  looked  to  see 
if  she  was  pleased. 

At  least,  however,  there  was  one  good  result. 
The  patient,  uncomplaining  lips  quivered  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  her  self-control  gave  way  en- 
tirely, and  she  threw  herself,  not  into  my  arms, 
button  the  floor,  and  buried  her  face  in  the 
couch,  and  burst  into  an  agony  of  tears. 

"  Mother  !  mother  !"  she  sobbed,  and  then  I 
understood  it  all. 


152  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

Yes,  every  little  detail  of  tbe  old  room  had 
been  planned  by  our  motlier  and  arranged  by 
her  hands — hands  -vvhich  were  not  cold  in  death, 
but  which  we  might  never  touch  again. 

It  was  this  terrible  uncertainty  which  weighed 
most  of  all  on  my  sister's  heart — this  terrible 
unnatural  burial  of  the  living  from  us,  of  which 
we  had  not  dared  to  speak,  and  of  which  I  had 
scarcely  dared  to  think.  I  could  say  nothing. 
Mai'k  left  us  to  each  other  But  gradually  I 
drew  her  on  the  sofa  beside  me,  and  we  wept 
together. 

And  from  that  time  I  began  to  understand 
that,  in  great  sorrows,  that  is  nearly  all  we  can  do 
for  each  other,  "  weep  with  those  that  weep." 
It  seems  poor  aid,  just  to  go  down  into  grief 
and  share  it.  Yet  it  was  what  Jesus  did.  In- 
deed, afterwards  He  did  more  ;  he  raised  the 
dead.  But  He  wept  first  with  the  bereaved. 
And  tears  are  all  we  have — tears,  and  a  hand  to 
point  the  weeping  eyes  to  Him. 

I  suppose  those  tears  did  my  sister  good,  for 
she  spoke  first,  and  took  her  old  place,  and  be- 
gan to  comfort  me. 

"Yet,  darling,  we  must  not  despair,"  she 
sobbed.  "  She  is  with  the  Saviour.  In  heaven 
or  earth,  in  paradise  or  in  the  convent-dungeon, 
she  is  with  Him.  They  cannot  banish  her  from 
His  presence.  But,  O,  Costanza,"  she  con- 
tinued, "  do  you  think  she  can  have  recanted  ?" 

"  Who  knows  ?"  I  said.     But  then  a  sudden 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  153 

hope  flashed  on  me.  "  St.  Peter  did  worse ; 
but  he  could  not  get  beyond  the  reach  of  that 
look." 

"  Yes,  that  look  of  love !"  said  Dolores  ;  "  for 
only  love  can  melt  the  heart.  But,  oh,  Cos- 
tanza,"  she  continued,  "  if  we  knew  any  thing  ! 
I  do  not  know  how  to  pray.  What  do  you 
do  ?" 

"  I  say,  '  Lord,  Thou  knowest,'  I  replied. 

And  so  our  hearts  were  opened  to  each  other, 
and  the  stony  look  passed  from  my  sister's  face. 

Often  after  that  her  eyes  were  swollen  with 
tears.  But  that  unnaturally  deep  and  spiritual 
gaze  had  vanished,  and  I  rejoiced.  Ursel,  how- 
ever, was  not  satisfied. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  she  said  to  me  one  day,  "  your 
sister's  soul  is  sinking  from  the  height  it  had  at- 
tained.  She  looks  often  now  as  if  she  had  been 
weeping  ;  and  when  I  relate  to  her  any  new  nar- 
rative of  our  martyrs,  a  shiver  passes  over  her 
face,  as  if  she  thought  more  of  the  suflering  than 
the  reward ;  and  last  night  she  even  begged 
me  to  tell  her  no  more.  She  said  she  could 
not  bear  it.  And  when  I  reminded  her  that  if 
our  brethren  could  have  courage  to  endure,  we 
might  surely  have  courage  to  hear,  she  said, 
'When  the  time  conies,  God  gives  strength; 
but  tiie  time  is  not  come  for  me.  I  have  not 
the  strength.  It  recalls  too  many  things.'  I 
hope  her  soul  is  not  becoming  once  more  en- 
tangled in  this  poor  perishing  world." 


154  THE   LIBERATION    OE    HOLLAND. 

But  this  time  I  was  .bolder  than  usual  on  Do- 
lores' account,  and  I  replied  : 

"  Sister  Ursel,  the  blessed  Lord  wept." 

"  He  wept,"  she  replied,  "  for  the  sins  of  hu- 
manity." 

"  It  does  not  say  so,"  I  answered.  "  It  says  He 
wept  for  the  sorrows  of  Mary  and  Martha. 
And  I  think  it  is  too  much  like  the  old  monks 
and  nuns  to  think  that  God  would  have  us  care 
less  for  our  beloved,  in  order  to  care  more  for 
Him." 

Ursel  was  not  pleased.     She  said  : 

"  The  Lord  our  God  is  a  jealous  God.  But  to 
think  of  accusing  me  of  favouring  the  abuses  of 
the  monasteries,  when  I  attend  Francis  Junius, 
and  all  the  Reformed  preachers  every  time  they 
can  be  heard,  at  the  risk  of  my  life." 

But  Ursel  learned  much  after  that,  from  One 
who  teaches  many  things  only  through  tears. 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  155 


11. 


W 


Itoif. 


THE  first  thing,  however,  that  seemed  entirely 
to  restore  Dolores  to  life  was  the  birth  of  my 
child  ;  and  her  first  firm  link  with  our  new  kin- 
dred and  country  was  Truyken  Ketel ;  and  it 
happened  in  this  way. 

Truyken  and  Dolores  were  not  always  friends. 
Indeed,  they  started  on  any  thing  but  an  amica- 
ble footing ;  and  I  used  often  to  fear  how  they 
would  get  on  if  I  were  laid  aside.  So  little  can 
we  foresee  how  any  thing  will  turn  out. 

Truyken  was  an  old  servant  of  the  Rosevelt 
family.  She  had  been  my  husband's  nurse  in 
his  infancy,  and  then  his  housekeeper,  until  we 
were  married,  and  altogether  had  acquired  a 
place  in  the  house  which  it  was  at  times  cer- 
tainly rather  difficult  to  reconcile  with  that  of  a 
wife,  still  more  of  a  wife's  sister.  Moreover, 
she  was  not  a  little  inclined  to  look  on  me  and 
my  sister  as  two  stray  waifs  who  had  drifted 
from  a  barbarous  shore,  where  they  knew  noth- 
ing of  the  world  and  its  ways.  And  she  under- 
took to  set  us  right  in  a  very  frank  and  decided 
manner.     Dolores,  who  had  been  accustomed  to 


156  THE    LIEEEATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

the  mingled  homage  and  caressing  familiarity  of 
our  southern  household,  where  we  might  be 
disobeyed,  but  were  never  contradicted,  could 
by  no  means  comprehend  this  freedom ;  and 
more  than  once,  when  Truykeu  had  quietly,  but 
positively,  refused  to  obey  some  order  which 
Avas  contrary  to  her  Flemish  code,  I  saw  my 
sister's  colour  mount,  the  lips  compress,  and  the 
soft  eyes  flash  with  an  ominous  Spanish  fire. 

Great,  then,  was  my  amazement  when  I  began 
to  recover  from  the  danger  in  which  I  had  lain 
for  many  weeks  after  the  birth  of  my  child, 
to  find  the  understanding  established  between 
Truyken  and  my  sister  ;  Dolores  having  meekly 
subsided  into  a  second-rate  power  in  all  matters 
relating  to  the  health  of  the  baby,  and  thank- 
fully accepting  from  Truyken's  good  pleasure 
every  office  she  was  permitted  to  perform. 

I  learned  afterwards ,  of  the  nights  and  days 
of  devoted  watching  by  me  and  the  child — of 
the  sleepless  care  and  self-forgetful  attention 
which  saved  our  lives  and  swept  away  the  bar- 
riers between  those  two  hearts  ;  for  Truyken's 
manner  was  quite  as  much  changed  as  my  sis- 
ter's. Decisive  it  was  certainly,  and  with  the 
dignity  of  superior  experience ;  but  a  tender 
reverence  blended  with  this,  as  if  Dolores  was 
to  Truyken  something  between  an  infant  and  an 
angel — a  creature  not  yet  quite  disciplined  to 
the  ways  of  this  earthly  sphere,  that  must  be 
treated  very  daintily,  but  yet  could  not  be  suf- 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  157 

fered  always  to  pursue   its  own  well-meaning 
but  self-destructive  intentions. 

Thus  was  established  the  protectorate  of 
Truyken,  which,  if  sometimes  a  little  oppressive, 
was,  nevertheless,  on  the  whole,  a  mild  and  be- 
neficent form  of  government. 

One  serious  diflerence,  indeed,  existed  between 
us.  Truyken  was  a  firm  adherent  of  the  "  old 
religion,"  as  she  called  it,  although  she  was  a 
yet  firmer  adherent  of  the  Rosevelt  family. 

I  believe  she  looked  on  my  sister  and  me  as  a 
kind  of  irregular  Christians,  whose  general  out- 
landish manners,  and  ignorance  of  Dutch,  would, 
it  was  to  be  charitably  hoped,  save  ns  from. too 
severe  a  scrutiny  at  the  gate  of  heaven.  And  as 
to  Mark,  the  idea  of  a  Rosevelt  being  excluded 
from  any  place  of  privilege  in  earth  or  heaven, 
probably  never  seriously  entered  her  imagina- 
tion. How  the  dear,  fiiithful  old  soul  contrived 
to  reconcile  these  conflicting  services,  of  her 
Church  and  of  us,  none  of  us  could  ever  com- 
prehend. But  these  were  not  the  only  interne- 
cine dogmas  Avhich,  in  spite  of  all  logic,  con- 
trived to  lie  down  peaceably,  like  the  leopard 
and  the  lamb  in  the  broad  heart  of  Truyken  Ko- 
tel.  Her  belief  depended  on  her  character, 
rather  than  on  her  reason  ;  and  the  two  great 
elements  of  her  character  were  intense  pertina- 
city of  will  and  devoted  loyalty  to  what  she 
recognized  as  "  master."  No  irrefragable  chain 
of  argument,  and  no  accumulation  of  historical 
14 


158  THE    LIBKRATION    OF    HOLLAND, 

evidence,  would  have  moved  her  faith  in  the 
bone  of  St.  Ursula,  or  one  of  the  Eleven  Thou- 
sand Virgins,  which  she  wore  in  a  large  silver 
heart  suspended  around  her  neck.  St.  Ursula 
had  been  her  mother's  patron  saint.  Truyken's 
mother,  the  most  pious  of  Avomen,  had  rever- 
enced that  relic,  and  no  words  should  ever  per- 
suade Truyken  to  cast  it  aside  as  a  vain  thing. 
Had  it  not  been  worn  by  her  blessed  great-grand- 
father in  a  battle — by  her  blessed  grandfather  in 
a  wreck  off  Zealand — by  her  blessed  mother  in 
a  fire ;  and  had  not  all  three  escajDed  unharmed  ? 
How  it  could  be  of  any  use,  she  could  not  pre- 
tend to  say.  Who  could  understand  the  clouds, 
or  the  growing  of  the  corn,  or  half  the  wonder- 
ful things  the  Almighty  did  ? 

Yet  when  we  'spoke  to  Truyken  of  the  suffer- 
ings of  our  Saviour  and  His  love,  have  I  not  seen 
tears  steal  over  her  wrinkled  cheeks,  and  a  light 
kindle  in  her  grave  gray  eyes  no  legends  or  rel- 
ics could  enkindle  there  ?  I  cannot  help  being 
thankful  that  in  davs  and  circumstances  of  such 
suffering  and  wrong  as  ours,  when  it  was  so  nat- 
ural to  look  on  Papist  and  Protestant  as  beings 
of  different  races,  when  the  furies  of  Spanish 
soldiers,  and  the  deliberate  tortures  of  tlie  Span- 
ish Inquisition,  so  often  tempted  us  to  think  the 
Pope's  adherents  rather  fiends  of  hell  than  hu- 
man creatures  made  by  God  and  born  of  woman, 
this  human  link  was  preserved  to  us  between 
the  new  religion — the  Bible   religion — and  the 


THE    LIBEEATIO]^    OF    HOLLAND.  159 

old.  For,  after  all,  it  was  the  old  religion.  Our 
ancestors — Mark's  mother  and  father  even — had 
died  in  it,  and  whole  generations  before  ;  and  if 
God  had  not  forgotten  the  world  for  centuries 
(which  no  one  could  believe),  it  was  necessary 
that  there  should  always  have  been  some  chan- 
nel piercing  the  clouds,  through  which  the  sin- 
ner's eye  could  see  the  Saviour,  and  the  heavenly 
light  and  dew  of  pardon  could  come  down. 

One  of  the  first  family  discussions  held  when 
I  began  to  rejoin  the  circle,  was  about  the 
naming  and  baptism  of  the  child.  Mark's  sisters 
were  both  Protestants,  although  of  difierent 
confessions  —  Christina  belonging,  with  her 
brother  and  the  greater  number  of  the  better 
classes  in  the  Netherlands,  to  the  Confession  of 
Augsburg ;  whilst  Ursel  was  ai  fervent  disciple 
of  the  Genevese  Reformer. 

I  had  wished  much  to  call  the  baby  Dolores 
Costanza,  after  my  sister  and  my  mother ;  but  to 
this  my  sister  objected. 

"  Why  call  her,  like  me,  after  Our  Lady  of 
Sorrow  ?  Why  not,  sister,  if  you  want  a  name 
which  recalls  mine,  call  her  after  the  Mother  of 
Consolations,  not  Dolores,  but  Consuelo  ?" 

But  Ursel  interposed  : 

"  Surely,  you  will  not  sanction  any  such  super- 
stitions ?  If  Dolores  has  had  the  misfortune,  as 
I  must  deem  it,  to  be  christened  after  an  idol, 
surely  the  delusion  will  not  be  perpetuated  in 
the  harmless  babe  ?" 


160  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

"With  your  permission,  sister  Costanza,"  re- 
marked Ciiristina,  "  I  am  sure  the  last  thing  you 
-would  wish  is  to  treat  the  infant's  Flemish  and 
Dutch  grandmothers  with  any  disrespect.  These 
were  Hermentrud  and  Dieuwert." 

I  trembled  a  little  lest  my  child  should  be  en- 
dowed with  names  our  Spanish  lips  would  never 
be  able  to  pronounce ;  but  Ursel  resumed  : 

"  Before  we  decide  on  the  name,  would  it  not 
be  well  to  know  according  to  what  rite,  or  by 
what  minister,  the  baptism  is  to  be  accom- 
plished ?" 

"  By   our   own   Lutheran  pastor,"   answered 

Mark. 

"  With  godmothers  and  godfathers  ?"  asked 

Ursel. 

"  Certainly,"  was  the  reply. 

"Indeed,  brother,"  said  Ursel,  "it  would 
grieve  me  very  much  to  make  a  division  at  such 
a  time ;  but  you  know  what  my  conscientious 
feelings  are  on  that  point.  I  think  the  Lutheran 
doctrine  on  the  sacraments  little  better  than  that 
of  Rome,  and  how  can  I  sanction  it  by  attend- 
ing?" 

"  One  thing  I  must  say,"  interposed  the  Vrow 
van  Broek,  "  if  Ursel  has  her  way,  and  the  babe 
is  to  be  baptized  by  one  of  the  fonatical  new 
French  ministers  from  Geneva,  I  cannot  risk  my 
life  or  my  peace  by  attending.  I  was  told  the 
other  day  that  one  of  them  actually  said  that 
the  good  God  had  foredoomed  the  whole  human 


THE   LIBEBATION   Or   HOLLAND.  IGl 

race  to  everlasting  fire,  except  a  few  whom  lie 
arbitrarily  excepted.  I  think  that  is  making  the 
Almighty  no  better  than  King  Philii>,  and  I  will 
have  nothing  to  do  with  such  heresies.  I  would 
almost  as  soon  join  the  Anabaptists,  and  have  no 
baptism  at  all." 

Ursel  would  have  retorted,  but  Mark  said  I 
was  becoming  pale  and  weary,  and  summoned 
Truyken  with  restoratives. 

"  You  have  been  teasing  the'  poor  young  thing 
to  death  by  talking,"  she  said,  severely. 

"  We  were  only  speaking  of  the  baptism  of 
the  child,  Truyken,"  said  Mark,  apologetically. 

"Then,  if  you  had  condescended  to  consult 
me,"  replied  Truykeu,  "  you  might  have  saved 
yourselves  that  trouble.  The  babe  was  named 
and  christened  some  weeks  since." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Truyken  ?" 

"  Do  you  think  I  was  going  to  let  the  little 
angel  be  a  heathen  ?  especially  when  she  might 
have  died  at  any  minute,  and  the  precious  little 
soul  have  remained  wailing  for  ever  in  the  dark- 
ness outside  the  gates  of  Paradise,  belonging  to 
no  one  ?  One  night,  when  we  scarcely  thought 
you  would  both  of  you  have  lived,  I  sent  for 
Father  Antony,  and  had  her  baptized  in  the  old 
way  the  master  was  christened  in,  and  all  the 
family  before  him."  N» 

"  And  the  name,  Truyken  ?" 

"  I  named  her  more  for  the  other  world  than 
for  this,"  replied  Truyken  ;  "  because  it  seemed 


1G2  THE   LIBEKATIOX    OF    HOLLAND. 

as  if  every  breath  of  the  darling  might  have  been 
the  last ;  and  therefore  I  thought  more  of  the 
Patroness  than  of  the  mothers  or  the  grand- 
mothers, which  I  hope  you  will  excuse.  The 
babe  was  christened  after  the  Blessed  Mother 
herself.  I  thought  we  might  all  agree  there  is 
no  better  saint  in  heaven,  and  certainly  there  is 
no  better  name  on  earth." 

And  Truyken  crossed  herself. 

Thus  our  cliild  was  robbed  of  all  the  high- 
sounding  appellations  which  were  to  have  been 
heaped  on  her,  and  the  name  of  Marie,  or  May- 
ken,  has  been  ever  since  the  joy  of  our  home. 

I  must  confess  to  a  cowardly  sense  of  relief  in 
having  the  discussion  thus  summarily  closed,  and 
also  the  danger  of  a  Protestant  baptism  in  any 
form  avoided. 

None  of  us  ventured  any  remonstrance  with 
Truyken  at  the  time,  knowing  how  useless  it 
would  be ;  but  Christina,  as  an  experienced 
matron,  thought  it  her  duty  to  say  to  us  after- 
wards : 

"  Excuse  me,  dear  sister  Costanza,  but  does 
not  poor  Truyken  take  liberties  ;  and  is  there 
not  danger  of  her  getting  too  much  the  upper 
hand?"^ 

"  She  does  take  liberties,"  I  said,  "  and  she  has 
the  upper  liand.  I  thought  it  was  the  Flemish 
way." 

But  one  thing  in  this  discussion  made  a  deep 
and  painful  impression  on  me,  and  I  spoke  to 
Mark  about  it  that  evening. 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  1G3 

"  What  are  all  these  divisions  ?"  I  said.  "  You 
are  all  Protestants  ;  and  in  Spain  we  Protestants 
were  all  one." 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  sadly,  "  the  stake  makes 
us  one — and  so  will  heaven." 

"But  we  all  submit  to  the  Bible,"  I  said; 
"  and  the  Bible  must  teach  the  same  thino-  to  all. 
How  is  it,  then,  that  people  bring  such  difierent 
things  from  the  Bible  ?" 

"  I  suppose,"  he  said,"  because  we  take  differ- 
ent notions  to  the  Bible.  We  none  of  us  go  to 
it  with  minds  quite  clear  from  error,  or  hearts 
quite  free  from  sin ;  and  the  vessels  we  carry  to 
the  fountain  colour  the  water  we  brino-  from  it." 

"  Then  is  no  one  quite  right  ?"  I  asked. 

"  I  suppose  not,"  he  answered,  "  since  no  one 
is  quite  holy." 

"  Then,  if  all  is  so  uncertain,"  I  said,  "  why  is 
the  whole  world  convulsed  for  such  uncertain- 
ties ?  Why  not  remain  in  the  old  Church,  and 
say  nothing,  but  think  what  we  like  ?" 

"  All  is  not  uncertain,"  he  said ;  "  the  things 
all  Protestants  agree  about,  are  those  we  die 
for." 

"  And  these  ?" 

"  Are  not  things,"  he  replied  ;  "  not  abstrac- 
tions or  opinions,  but  truth  about  God ;  the 
right  to  read  His  Word  ;  the  right  of  access  to 
His  presence ;  the  right  of  rejoicing  in  His  love ; 
the  truth  that  Christ,  not  the  Pope,  is  our  Head  ; 
tliat   Christ,  and   not   the   priest,  forgives   our 


164  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

sins,  Luther  did  not  begin  with  denying,  but 
with  asserting,  with  unvailing  once  more  to 
men  the  love  of  God,  to  sinners  the  heart  of  the 
Saviour." 

"  But  Avhy,  then,  all  these  divisions  ?" 

"  Partly  from  the  light,  and  partly  from  the 
darkness.  In  the  night,  colours  are  aU  the 
same ;  the  daylight  shows  the  diversity." 

"  But  it  is  so  diiferent  from  what  I  imagined. 
Instead  of  that  living  union  which  in  Spain  made 
us  all  seem  like  one  family,  are  we  Protestants 
to  be  only  like  neighbours  who  may  think  it 
happy  if  we  can  live  side  by  side  without  a 
quarrel  ?  It  is  love  we  want,  Mark,  and  this  is 
not  love." 

"  Love  springs  from  relationship,  Costanza," 
he  said,  "  and  not  from  agreement.  As  there  is 
but  one  secret  of  true  union  among  Christians, 
and  that  is  union  with  Christ,  so  there  is  but 
one  true  2:)reservative  of  communion  among 
Christians,  and  that  is  communion  with  Christ. 
My  little  wife  will  never  get  the  churches 
right,"  he  added,  smiling ;  "  but  I  do  not  de- 
spair of  her  doing  something  for  Christina  and 
Ursel." 

"  And,  meantime,  is  no  one  wise  enough  to 
keep  the  Protestant  churches  from  quarrelling  ?" 
said  I. 

"  Most  Protestants  think  it  a  treacherous 
lukewarmness  to  try,"  he  replied,  "  so  persuaded 
is  every  doctor  that  he  and  his  party  only  are 


THE   LIBERATION   OP   HOLLAND.  165 

right.  In  Switzerland,  the  ZwingHans  have 
drowned  the  Anabaptists." 

"  But  the  Anabaptists  are  very  bad,  are  they 
not  ?"  I  said.  "  Are  they  not  like  the  Turks  ? 
Have  they  not  more  than  one  wife  ?" 

"  Some  of  them  had  at  Munster  four-and- 
twenty  years  ago,"  he  re]3lied  ;  "  but  those  I 
have  met  have  been  quiet,  orderly,  inoffensive 
people.  The  Prince  of  Orange  thinks  they 
should  be  tolerated." 

"  You  sj)eak  so  often  of  the  Prince  of  Orange," 
I  said. 

"He  is  the  one  hope  of  the  country,"  he 
replied. 

"  But  the  Protestants  have  not  gone  so  far  as 
drowning  the  Anabaptists  here  in  Flanders  ?"  I 
asked. 

"  ISTo,"  he  answered ;  "  the  Pope  and  the  king 
have  not  yet  done  with  drowning  and  burning 
us.  King  Philip  and  William  the  Silent,  be- 
tween them,  may  perhaps  even  yet  teach  the 
Protestants  of  our  country  to  love  one  another." 

"  And  meantime,"  I  said,  "  we  must  try  to 
teach  Ursel  and  Christina ;  and  to  learn." 


166  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 


III. 


17 OR  some  time  our  little  household  "W'ent  on 
-^  so  peacefully,  that  we  were  almost  forgetting 
the  tempest  that  still  raged  in  the  world  without. 
Mayken  seemed  to  have  come  as  a  dove  of  peace 
among  us  all.  Christina  declared  she  was  the 
image  of  her  lost  Hansken,  and,  with  many  a 
quiet  tear  (which  the  coach  and  the  procession 
of  the  company  of  clothiers  had  not,  after  all, 
quite  dried),  she  opened  a  sacred  little  chest, 
containing  the  little  wardrobe,  and  insisted  on 
investing  her  with  many  a  stately  starched  ruff 
and  frill,  from  which  the  little  face  used  to  peep 
with  a  look,  to  me,  as  strange  and  quaint  as  if 
the  Duchess  Margaret's  milliner  had  undertaken 
to  attire  a  cherub  of  Fra  Angelico's  in  court 
costume.  But  I  never  objected,  and  Christina's 
satisfaction  was  reward  sufficient.  She  said  it 
made  the  little  darling  look  quite  another  thing. 
And  it  certainly  did. 

Then,  by  one  of  those  unaccountable  fancies 
which  sometimes  get  possession  of  babes  and 
other   unreasonable   creatures,  Mayken  formed 


THE   LIBERATION    OE    HOLLAKD.  167 

the  strongest  attachment  to  Ursel ;  why  I  could 
not  at  all  comprehend,  unless  it  was  for  a  look 
in  her  eyes  a  little  like  Mark's  when  he  was  par- 
ticularly grave.  But  whatever  the  cause  in  the 
child,  the  effect  on  Ursel  was  magical.  What 
woman,  armed  to  the  teeth  with  the  strongest 
asceticism  that  ever  mailed  priestess  or  nun, 
could  resist  the  fascination  of  the  spontaneous 
love  of  a  little  child  ? 

So  Ursula's  heart,  before  she  was  aware,  was 
entanQ;led  in  the  strong  meshes  of  creature-love ; 
that,  by  loving,  she  might  learn  better  to  adore 
Him  who  is  love.  For  how  can  God's  provi- 
dence or  chastenings  teach  us  any  thing,  unless 
we  love  ?  Without  love  there  may  be  pain  ;  but 
there  can  be  no  softening,  sanctifying,  Christ- 
like sorrow. 

But  more  than  all  was  the  little  one  to  Dolores, 
whom  she  learned  to  call,  lisping,  Madrecita,  or, 
in  Flemish,  Little  Mother,  the  name  I  had  called 
her  since  the  accident  which  lamed  her,  and 
bound  us  together  with  that  peculiar  tie.  To 
my  sister  she  was  a  link  to  our  new  country,  to 
life,  to  earth. 

She  said  to  me  one  day : 

"  Do  you  know  what  you  and  your  May  ken 
have  taught  me  ?  To  give  thanks.  On  that 
night  of  agonized  anxiety  when  you  were  spared 
to  us,  I  knelt  in  my  little  room — the  room  you 
had  prepared  so  loA'ingly  for  me.  I  knelt  by 
that  couch,  and  sobbed  out  my  thanks  in  such  a 


168  THE   LIBERATION   OP   HOLLAND. 

flood  of  tears,  as  I  had  not  wept  since  that  day 
with  you.  And  then  something  seemed  to  melt 
ft-om  my  heart,  and  I  looked  up,  and  felt  God's 
love,  as  on  the  day  when  first  I  learned  to  believe 
in  it.  I  felt  again  it  was  not  mere  benevolence, 
but  love ;  and  that  He  cared,  as  you  had  done, 
that  I  should  notice  the  things  He  provided  for 
me,  and  thank  Him  for  them,  not  with  averted, 
joyless  eyes,  but  as  if  I  cared.  And  I  thanked 
Him  from  my  inmost  heart  for  the  child  and  for 
you.  And  from  that  time,  it  has  seemed  as  if  a 
barrier  were  gone  between  me  and  my  God. 
With  nothing  between  us  and  Him,  we  must  re- 
joice. It  is  that,  and  not  Mayken  only,  which 
is  the  joy  to  me,  but  it  vfas  Mayken  who 
brought  it." 

For  a  time  our  home  was  like  a  soft  nest, 
hidden  deep  in  the  forest,  sheltered  from  the 
glare  and  din  of  the  outside  world.  I  used  to 
fear  sometimes  that  Mayken,  the  oject  of  so 
much  love,  might  grow  into  that  worst  isolation 
of  gathering  all  this  love  into  herself,  and  be- 
comincT  a  centre.  And  I  made  countless  little 
plans  for  counteracting  this  in  her  education  ;  for 
instance,  to  take  an  orphan  child  to  bring  up 
with  her,  if  she  had  no  brothers  or  sisters.  But 
I  need  not  have  troubled  myself.  We  did  com- 
mit the  little  one  to  God,  and  He  took  her  life 
under  His  care,  and  saved  it  from  being  too  soft 
and  weakening,  in  ways  we  could  never  have 
had  courage  to  use.    But  that  was  because  God 


THE   LIBEEATION   OF   HOLLAKD.  169 

sees  SO  much  farther  than  we  do,  and  loves  so 
much  more.  And  if  we  see  that  He  dealt  thus 
with  us,  now  that  events  have  interpreted  each 
other,  and  we  vuiderstand  them,  may  we  not 
trust  He  has  dealt  the  same  with  His  Church  in 
the  Netherlands  in  this  great  ang-uish  and  soi'- 
row  through  which  He  has  suffered  it  to  pass, 
even  in  the  events  which  have  not  yet  inter- 
preted themselves,  and  which  we  cannot  under- 
stand ? 

The  first  break  on  this  happy  home-life  of 
ours — at  least,  the  first  sound  which  startled  me 
— was  on  the  3d  of  October,  1563. 

It  was  a  stormy  night,  and  the  wind  howled 
fitfully  through  the  narrow  street  in  which  we 
lived  ;  but  every  now  and  then  sounds  came 
to  us,  which  were  not  the  sighs  of  the  wind, 
but  deeper,  steadier,  and  more  musical. 

As  we  were  listening,  a  number  of  people 
came  quietly  past  the  house,  some  of  them  car- 
rying lanterns.  My  husband  went  to  the  door, 
and  then  returned,  and  began  hastily  putting  on 
his  cloak. 

"  What  is  it,  Mark  ?"  I  said.  "  Is  it  a  fire  ? 
"Why  must  you  go  on  this  boisterous  night  ?" 

"  Thei-e  will  be  a  fire  to-morrow,  wife,"  he 
said,  significantly,  "  unless  the  deed  of  darkness 
be  done  in  the  darkness.  Christopher  Fabricius 
is  sentenced  to  the  stake  to-morrow  ;  but  King 
Philip  has  advised  secret  executions  in  the  pris- 
ons, in  cases  where  the  people  sympathize  with 
15 


170  THE    LIBERATION    OF   HOLLAND. 

the  sufferers,  as  they  do  in  AntAverp  ;  and  a 
great  nnmber  of  our  brethren  are  ah-eady  col- 
lected outside  the  prison  to  comfort  the  martyr 
with  psalms,  and  to  hear  his  voice  from  time  to 
time,  and  see  that  no  foul  deed  is  done." 

"  But  you,  Mark,"  I  said,  "  why  must  you  go  ? 
Your  voice  will  be  only  on«  in  the  crowd  ;  but 
it  is  all  to  us." 

"The  Lord  who  suffered  for  us,  and  for  whom 
Fabricius  suffers,  will  hear  if  my  voice  is  in  the 
crowd  or  not,  my  love,"  he  said  ;  and  would  ye 
have  Him  say,  '  Ye  did  it  not  to  me  ?" 

I  could  not  say  another  word  ;  but  I  held  the 
door  open  for  him,  and  looked  after  him  till  he 
was  out  of  sight,  and  then  went  up  to  the  cot 
of  my  sleeping  child.  My  heart  beat  so  violently, 
that  I  feared  it  would  wake  her ;  and  through 
the  gusty  wind,  I  fancied,  again  and  again,  I 
heard  the  shouts  of  the  soldiers  seizing  the 
heretic  band,  and  the  music  changing  to  Avails 
and  deep  cries.  That  night  Avas  a  solemn  night 
to  me.  Dolores  was  in  her  room,  and  I  Avould 
not  disturb  her.  I  felt  that  something  had  to  be 
decided  between  me  and  God. 

The  religion  Avhich  says,  "  Love  not ;  quench 
earthly  affections,  that  God  may  be  supreme," 
may  have  its  conflicts  ;  but  I  thiiik  they  are 
light  compared  Avith  the  conflicts  and  sacrificea 
of  the  religion  AAdiich  says,  "  Love  fervently. 
LoA^e  others  as  yourself;  but  loA'e  God  more. 
LoA'e  best  Him  who  loves   you  best."     Faith 


THE    LIBEEATIO]Sr    OF    HOLLAND.  171 

needs  to  be  strong  to  inspire  the  right  choice  at 
such  times  ;  and  that  night  my  faith  seemed 
very  Aveak.  I  thought  if  I  had  been  Mark,  I 
would  have  done  as  he  did  ;  but  to  see  Mark  go, 
was  another  thing  altogether.  Yet  I  Avould  not 
have  recalled  him,  not  for  the  world.  So,  after 
trying  to  feel  as  I  thought  I  ought  to  feel  about 
it,  for  a  long  time,  trying  to  be  willing  that 
Mark  should  be  there,  I  gave  up  the  conflict, 
and  hid  my  face  in  ray  hands,  and  said  : 

"  My  Saviour  pity  me.  I  am  not  willing.  I 
cannot  wish  it.  But  I  know  Thou  lovest  us. 
Thy  will  be  done."  And  then  it  seemed  as  if  a 
voice  brought  the  words,  "  Not  my  will,  but 
Thine  be  done ;"  and  I  felt  greatly  comforted. 
Were  they  not  our  Lord's  own  woi'ds  ?  And 
other  comforting  thoughts  followed.  I  thought, 
"  If  my  Mayken  had  some  little  treasure  which 
was  i>recious  to  her,  and  which  I  had  to  take 
from  her,  if  she  gave  it  me  without  a  rebellious 
murmur  when  I  asked,  would  I  be  angry  be- 
cause there  were  tears  in  her  dear  eyes,  and  the 
little  lips  quivered,  though  they  did  not  com- 
plain ?" 

Then  I  thought,  "  Yes,  better  than  a  mother ! 
Thou  lovest  us  much  better,  as  Thou  art  better. 
Father,  Lord,  I  will  trust  Thee  with  my  very 
best." 

And  soon  after,  the  morning  dawned,  and 
Mark  came  home.  And  then  I  felt  I  would  not 
have  missed  that  night. 


172  THE   LIBERATION   OF   HOLLAND. 

He  smiled  to  see  the  bright  look,  through  the 
traces  of  tears,  ou  my  face. 

"  God  has  comforted  thee,"  he  said.  "  Thou 
wilt  trust  Him  better  next  time. " 

"  Yes,  Mark,"  I  said.  "  I  did  not  trust  Him 
well,  this  time.  But  did  not  the  soldiers  come 
on  you  ?" 

"  No,"  he  said.  "  There  was  no  disturbance. 
The  guard  was  increased,  but  there  was  no  dis- 
turbance." 

"  Has  Fabricius  a  wife  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied.  "  That  is  one  of  his  chief 
crimes.  He  was  a  monk  at  Bruges ;  but  when 
he  learnt  the  Gospel,  he  le^t  the  monastery,  and 
soon  after  married.  Then  he  fled  to  England, 
where  he  might  have  remained  safely  till  now  ; 
but  love  of  his  countrymen  brought  him  back — 
love  of  country,  and  love  of  Christ.  For  many 
months  this  Spring,  he  preached  in  various 
houses  in  Antwerp  ;  and  in  July  he  was  seized 
and  thrown  into  prison.  A  woman,  called  Long 
Meg,  who  had  professed  to  desire  instruction, 
sought  him  out,  learned  to  know  his  places  of 
retirement,  and  then,  like  Judas,  betrayed  him 
to  the  Government." 

"  He  has  been  in  prison  these  three  months, 
Mark  ? — these  three  months  here  at  Antwerp — 
while  I  have  been  so  happy ;  and  I  did  not 
know !  We  might  have  comforted  him  in  some 
way,  or  his  poor  wife." 

"  I  was  afraid  to  tell  thee,"  he  said,  "  Thy 


THE    LIBEKATIOK    OF    HOLLAND.  173 

heart  is  so  tender.  I  knew  it  -would  distress 
thee  so  much.  For  they  have  laid  him  on  the 
rack  again  and  again  ;  but  not  one  word  could 
they  extract  touching  one  of  his  friends  ;  whilst 
of  his  own  faith,  he  confessed  frankly  all  they 
asked.  To  his  friends  he  wrote  as  a  comforter, 
rather  than  a  sufferer,  and  to  the  woman  who  be- 
trayed him,  he  sent  a  letter  of  forgiveness  and 
tender  warning. 

"  Oh,  Mark,"  I  said,  "  you  would  not  have 
my  heart  tender,  just  as  a  limb  is  tender  that  has 
been  Avounded  !     I  might  have  helped  !" 

"  Ursel  has  visited  the  prison,  with  others  ; 
and  the  wants  of  both  Fabricius  and  his  wife 
have  not  been  neglected,"  he  said. 

But  Mark  did  not  stay  long  with  me  then. 
Crowds  were  beginning  to  re-assemble  in  the 
streets,  groups  of  men  looking  dark  and  deter- 
mined, and  women  talking  eagerly — all  hastening 
towards  the  prison.  As  we  listened  from  the 
open  window,  we  could  hear  them  speaking 
of  the  letters  Fabricius  had  written  from  prison 
to  his  friends,  and  even  to  the  traitress,  Long 
Meg,  full  of  forgiving,  pious  words. 

Mark  said  :  "  This  morning  the  sentence  is  to 
be  carried  out ;  and  the  day  will  hardly  pass 
without  a  riot.  I,  and  all  who  love  both  the 
Reformation  and  order,  must  be  there  ;  for  such 
times  always  cast  up  many  who  profit  by  dis- 
order, and  we  must  not  have  the  good  cause 
disgraced." 

15*^ 


174  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

By  degrees  the  streets  became  so  quiet, 
scarcely  any  one  passed  the  window.  The 
whole  of  the  unquiet  elements  of  the  unquiet 
city  had  collected  in  the  market-place.  There, 
Mark  told  me,  the  scene  had  been  strange  and 
sad  indeed  when  he  passed,  on  his  return  from 
the  prison,  in  the  early  morning.  The  peasant 
women,  with  their  vegetable  and  fruit  baskets, 
had  been  turned  back  from  the  square  ;  and  the 
stalls  of  the  noisy  fishmongers,  and  sellers  of 
wares  of  all  kinds,  had  been  removed.  And 
when  the  dawn  broke,  the  long  shadows  of  the 
tall  many-gabled  houses  fell  across  an  empty 
space.  Instead  of  the  pleasant  fragrance  of  the 
fresh  fruits  and  vegetables,  and  the  cheerful, 
eager  talking  of  the  women  arranging  their 
wares,  there  was  perfect  silence  in  the  empty 
square,  whilst  a  few  men  were  quietly  bringing 
faggots  to  the  middle  of  the  clear  space,  and 
laying  them  round  the  stake,  from  which  hung 
a  chain.  A  few  mounted  soldiers  Avere  keeping 
guard.     But  these  did  not  speak. 

In  the  Netherlands,  it  seems  that  the  people 
have  never  been  brought  to  look  on  the  Autos-da- 
Fe^  as  the  festive  occasions  they  have  been  made 
in  Spain. 

When  Mark  returned  only  an  hour  afterwards, 
all  was  changed.  The  market-place  was  no  lon- 
ger empty,  but  full  of  a  heaving  mass  of  citizens. 
"  The  silence,"  he  said,  "  was  nearly  as  great  as 
before ;  for  scarcely  any  one  spoke.     But  it  was 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAKD.  1*75 

like  the  silence  before  a  peal  of  thundei*.  All 
faces  were  turned  towards  the  street  leading  to 
the  prison." 

Soon  the  soldiers  came,  and  formed  an  avenue 
for  the  monks,  who  followed  with  the  prisoner. 
But  the  crowd  closed  instantly  behind  them, 
and  pressed  close  around  the  sad  procession. 
They  passed  near  Mark  ;  and  Fabricius  seeing 
the  threatening-  aspect  of  the  crowd,  said,  in  a 
calm,  clear  A'oice : 

"My  brethren,  let  none  of  you  attempt  to 
release  me  ;  but  suffer  God  to  accomplish  His 
work  in  me." 

Then  the  multitude,  pressing  close  on  the  pro- 
cession, seemed  for  the  time  quieted ;  and  from 
the  whole  vast  assembly,  instead  of  threats  and 
imprecations,  burst  forth  the  psalm  : 

"  From  the  depths  I  have  cried  unto  Thee,  0  Lord." 

"When  he  approached  the  middle  of  the  square, 
(the  progress  being  necessarily  slow  on  account 
of  the  throng,)  the  psalm  ceased,  and  Fabricius' 
voice  was  heard  again,  entreating  the  people  not 
to  forget  the  truth  he  had  taught  them.  Respon- 
sive voices  came  from  the  crowd  :  "  Fight  man- 
fully, brother;  fight  manfully !  Now  is  your  time!" 

The  commander  of  the  troo^)  hearing  this, 
shouted  to  the  soldiers,  "  Sieze  them — kill  them !" 
and  threatened  to  give  the  order  to  fire. 

At  the  stake  the  martyr  knelt  down,  and 
would  have  prayed  aloud,  but  the  monks  and 


176  THE   LIBERATION   OF   HOLLAND,- 

giiards  ATOuld  not  suffer  him  to  sj^eak.  Without 
a  minute's  delay,  the  hangman  chained  him  to 
the  stake,  and  fastened  a  rope  round  his  neck. 

Then  some  of  the  brethren  in  the  crowd  began 
again  to  chant  the  Flemish  version  of  Clement 
Marot's  Psalms  ;  but  the  halberdiers,  knowing 
too  well  the  power  of  those  solemn  words, 
sought  to  silence  them  with  blows.  The  more 
turbulent  of  the  citizens  returned  the  blows 
with  showers  of  stones ;  and  at  length  such  au 
irresistible  rash  was  made  towards  the  stake, 
that  monks,  soldiers  and  halberdiers  all  fled  as 
best  they  could  through  the  tumult. 

Once  more  friends  surrounded  the  martyr. 
The  chain  was  loosed,  the  rope  unbound.  But 
it  was  too  late.  The  hangman,  ere  he  fled,  had 
struck  him  a  blow  on  the  head  with  a  hatchet, 
and  plunged  a  dagger  into  his  body  ;  and  all  the 
tender  entreaties  of  the  friends,  to  whom  he  had 
been  so  faithful,  could  not  draw  another  word 
from  those  lips.  Yet  some  who  stood  near  be- 
fore the  soldiers  fled,  and  had  seen  the  fatal 
bloAV  given,  said  the  lips  moved  even  after  that 
for  a  few  moments,  as  if  in  prayer,  until  the 
flames  arose  and  hid  his  face  from  view. 

They  did  not  remove  the  body  from  the  stake. 
It  remained  in  the  market-place  all  day,  and  its 
grave  at  last  was  the  Scheldt.  The  river  is  his 
monument,  as  a  river  was  that  of  King  Attila. 
But  if  every  j^lace  in  Flanders  hallowed  by  a 
martyr's  death  were  to  be  set  apart  as  conse- 


THE   LIBEEATION   OF   HOLLAND.  117 

crated  ground,  not  a  village'  or  a  square  but 
would  have  its  memorial.  The  whole  land  is 
desecrated  by  murder,  and  consecrated  by  mar- 
tyrdoms. If  ever  Protestants  should  deem  it 
good  to  hallow  their  temples  with  dust  of  mar- 
tyred saints,  I  think  they  might  safely  take 
almost  any  of  the  soil  of  this  devoted  land. 

The  tumult  lasted  two  days.  The  next  morn- 
ing a  crowd  of  angry  citizens  were  gathered 
round  the  door,s  of  the  Town-Hall,  reading  a 
placard,  which  had  been  secretly  affixed  there 
in  the  night,  announcing  in  letters  written  liter- 
ally with  blood,  vengeance  on  the  murderers  of 
Fabricius.  Long  Meg,  the  traitress,  was  barely 
saved  from  summary  punishment  by  taking 
refuge  in  a  house.  But  no  further  results  fol- 
lowed. 

The  cruelty  of  the  Inquisitors,  with  Titelman, 
the  renegade,  at  their  head,  seemed  to  become 
more  daring  and  fiendish  every  day.  Proces- 
sions to  the  stake  grew  familiar  as  the  festive 
civic  processions  had  been  in  the  cities,  and  gib- 
bets became  as  established  an  institution  in  the 
villages  as  the  church  towers. 

Horrible  jests  were  repeated  to  us ;  how  the 
common  Prosecutor,  Red-Rod,  had  said  to  the 
Inquisitor  Titelman : 

"  How  do  you  accomplish  your  work  so  easily, 
while  I  find  so  much  difliculty  in  securing  my 
prisoners  ?" 

"It  is  quite  simple,"   replied  the  Inquisitor; 


178  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

"my  ijrisoners  are  submissive,  orderly  people, 
who  do  not  make  any  resistance." 

Then  said  the  Prosecutor  : 

"  Between  us,  Ave  sliall  make  short  work  in 
the  land,  if  I  hang  all  the  bad,  and  you  burn  all 
the  good." 

But  on  words  such  as  these,  and  on  the  unut- 
terable cruelties  inflicted  on  the  martyrs,  we  en- 
deavoured not  to  dwell.  They  filled  the  heart 
with  such  uncontrollable  bitterness,  or  froze  it 
into  such  unnatural  horror  ;  and  if  we  were  to 
forgive,  we  must  remember,  as  far  as  j^ossible, 
that  these  persecutors  were  not  demons,  but 
poor  deluded,  pitiable  men,  doing  the  Devil's 
work,  and  too  surely  laying  up  for  themselves 
his  wages.  We  tried  to  remember,  that  the 
malignant  spirit  hated  the  persecutors  as  'much 
as  the  sufferers,  and  certainly  injured  them  more, 
since  it  is  far  worse  to  have  the  soul  polluted  and 
torn  with  crime,  than  the  body  lacerated  with 
torture.  But  for  this,  we  must  have  become  in 
heart  as  ferocious  as  the  persecutors ;  as,  alas !  a 
few  Protestants  who  were  not  real  Christians  did. 

With  the  heroic  and  patient  words  and  deeds 
of  the  martyrs  it  was  otherwise.  These  were 
their  precious  legacies  to  us.  and  many  of  the 
most  impressive  exhortations  at  our  secret  meet- 
ings for  prayer  and  instruction  consisted  of  those 
sacred  words. 

Two  or  three  of  these  sayings  especially 
dwelt  in  my  memory. 


THE   LIBERATION   OF   HOLLAND.  179 

At  the  Hague,  a  man  named  John  Gerrits 
Keteler,  after  being  terribly  tortured,  wrote  that 
he  wished  he  could  describe  how  he  felt  Avhen 
on  the  rack  ;  "  for  the  Word  of  God  and  my  Sa- 
viour's bitter  sufferings  for  sinners  made  so  deep 
an  impression  on  me,  that  I  tliought  of  nothing 
else." 

Then  there  were  the  two  friends  at  Tournay, 

who  had  read  the  Bible  together  in  childhood, 

f  attended   the    same    meetings   as    youths,    and 

finally  sealed  their  friendship  and  their  faith  in 

the  same  prison  and  at  the  same  stake.. 

There  was  the  brave  woman,  who,  on  her  way 
to  the  scaffold,  passed  the  prison  where  her  hus- 
band had  been,  and  called  to  him,  "  Farewell, 
my  dear  !  adieu  !  I  am  going  to  another  wed- 
ding ;"  not  knowing  that  they  had  slain  him 
already.  And  so,  with  an  intrepidity  "that 
shone  in  her  eyes,"  she  mounted  the  scaffold, 
and  was  laid  in  the  open  coffin,  where  the  execu- 
tioner strangled  her. 

There  was  the  maid-servant,  who  dressed  her- 
self for  the  scafibld  as  for  a  wedding.  There 
Avere  many  who  spoke  of  "joy  unspeakable"  in 
their  hearts,  when  they  were  led  out  to  die. 
There  was  one  who  said  his  chains  for  Christ 
were  like  "  precious  jewels."  More  than  one  on 
tlie  scafibld,  or  at  the  stake,  declared  that,  could 
they  be  raised  and  die  again,  they  would  do  so 
joyfully,  "yea,  a  hundred  times,  for  this  Gospel 
of  Jesus  Christ."     More  than  one  might  have 


180  TUE   LIBERATION    OF   HOLLAND. 

escaped  from  jirispn,  and  would  not,  because 
they  felt  "  ready  to  depart,  and  had  no  wish  to 
linger  longer." 

Yet  there  was  no  imitative  infection  in  this 
dying  experience.  Some  confessed  that  they 
looked  back  with  tender  longing  to  wife  and 
children,  and  "  would  have  lived,  if  they  could 
without  disloyalty  to  Christ ;  for  life  was  sweet." 
And  Peter  Mioce  said  to  his  tormentors,  "  If 
God  had  furnished  me  with  an  opportunity  of 
escaping,  I  would  have  made  use  of  it,  and  kej)t 
out  of  your  hands ;  yet,  since  I  am  fallen  into 
them,  do  with  my  body  as  you  think  fit.  But 
my  soul  is  not  in  your  power." 

The  memory  of  that  old  soldier  martyred  at 
Mons  was  especially  dear  to  us,  who  said,  "  I 
have  risked  my  life  often  for  the  Emperor  ;  and 
shall  I  shrink  from  offering  it  now  for  my  Sa- 
viour ?" 

As  in  Spain,  more  than  one  family  was  united 
at  the  stake  to  be  re-united  for  ever  in  heaven. 
A  father  and  mother  and  four  sons  suffered  to- 
gether at  Lisle.  When  the  father  was  arrested, 
two  of  the  sons,  young  boys,  were  absent ;  but 
as  they  returned  home  they  met  their  father  in 
the  hands  of  the  officers  of  the  Inquisition.  The 
two  boys  yielded  themselves  up  also. 

"  Will  you  also  go  to  the  New  Jerusalem  ?" 
the  father  asked. 

"We  will  go,"  they  said.  And  they  have 
gone. 


THE   LIBERATION    OF   IIOLLAIfD.  181 

One  young  wife  at  Valenciennes,  with  a  cruel 
mercy,  was  respited  for  a  time,  after  all  dearest 
to  her  on  earth  had  been  martyred. 

"  Ah,  my  lords  !"  she  said,  "  I  have  languished 
sufficiently.  Why  do  you  keep  me  any  longer  ? 
I  am  strong  enough,  God  be  praised,  to  follow 
my  fjither,  husband,  and  brother." 

The  delay  of  their  reunion  was  not  much 
prolonged. 

16 


182  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 


lY. 


nm'm 


BEFORE  long,  affairs  in  Antwerp  returned  to 
their  usual  course.  The  Scheldt  bore  mer- 
chant fleets  on  its  bosom  as  proudly  as  if  no 
bones  of  martyrs  lay  beneath.  The  great  market- 
place was  thronged  every  morning  with  peasant 
women  in  their  gay  costume,  spreading  their 
fresh  fruits,  and  vegetables,  and  poultry ;  and 
good  housekeepers  bargained  and  gossiped 
among  the  stalls  as  eagerly  as  if  no  martyr-fire 
had  ever  been  kindled  there,  and  no  martyr's 
soul  had  mounted  thence  to  heaven.  Thousands 
of  merchants  congregated  twice  every  day  in 
the  Exchange,  and  the  business  of  that  busy 
commercial  life  went  on  as  actively  as  ever ;  at 
least  it  seemed  so  to  us,  accustomed  to  a  society 
divided  into  nobles  and  peasants,  where  com- 
merce might,  indeed,  be  a  necessity,  but  cer- 
tainly could  not  be  a  glory. 

Yet  Mark  used  even  then  to  say  Antwerp  was 
a  desert,  compared  with  what  he  remembered 
it,  before  the  Inquisition  came  (as  he  said)  like  a 
-thunder-cloud  on  all  political  life,  and  like  a  poi- 
sonous malaria  of  distrust  in  every  home. 

To  me,  the  ships  on  the  Scheldt  still  were  a 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  1S3 

constant  marvel,  and  the  wagons  of  merchandise 
tliat  entered  the  gates ;  and  the  palaces  of  the 
great  merchants  in  the  long  broad  streets, 
grand  enough  for  the  royal  house  of  Castile  and 
Arraeron.  Yet  more  than  one  of  them,  indeed, 
was  closed.  And  once,  I  remember,  as  we  were 
standing  on  one  of  the  great  quays,  looking  at 
a  fleet  of  merchant-ships  just  sailing  up  the  river, 
Mark  turn.ed  sorrowfully  away,  and  said  : 

"  They  are  all  sailing  the  wrong  way." 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?"  I  asked. 

"Those  ships  are  laden  with  Flemish  silks 
and  cloths,  the  M'ork  of  Flemish  weavers.  But 
they  sail  from  English  ports.  Ten  years  since 
they  would  have  been  laden  at  Antwerp,  the 
workmen  would  have  formed  part  of  our 
strength,  and  the  produce  would  have  brought 
wealth  into  our  homes.  But  King  Philip  and 
his  priests  have  driven  the  industrious  weavers 
from  our  cities  to  enrich  the  ports  of  England. 
The  Reformed  doctrine  spread  largely 'among 
these  skilled  workmen,  and  many  thousands 
have  emigrated  already  from  this  country  to 
Norwich  and  Sandwich  in  England,  and  to  Rot- 
terdam and  Amsterdam  in  the  Northern  Prov- 
inces. Antwerp  is  a  doomed  city,  unless  some 
miracle  turn  the  tide." 

"  Happy  for  our  brethren  to  have  found  such 
an  asylum,"  I  said. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied  ;  "  and  happy  for  the  coun- 
try which  welcomes  them." 


184  THE    LIBEEATIOX    OF    HOLLAND. 

That  evening,  however,  good  news  awaited 
us.  We  received,  at  the  house  of  John  van 
Broek,  the  joyful  tidings  that  Cardinal  Gran- 
velle  was  recalled  from  the  Government ;  and 
the  next  day  all  Antwerp  was  ringing  with  tlie 
news  of  the  fall  of  the  hated  minister. 

This  was  in  March,  1564.  Throughout  that 
year  hope  seemed  to  rise  again.  It  was  reported 
that  the  Duchess  Margaret  had  quite  changed  in 
her  demeanour  since  the  Cardinal's  departure — 
that  she  was  "  like  a  child  set  free  from  a  peda- 
gogue." "  Was  she  not,"  the  burghers  said, 
"  the  daughter  of  the  Flemish  Emperor  Charles, 
and  was  not  her  mother  a  Fleming  ?"  It  was 
said,  moreover,  that  she  began  to  treat  the 
Counts  Egmont  and  Horn,  the  Prince  of  Orange, 
and  other  friends  of  the  old  free  institutions  of 
the  country,  with  cordiality  and  confidence. 

In  January  of  the  folloAving  year  still  greater 
hopes  were  excited  by  the  mission  of  Count  Eg- 
mont to  Madrid,  to  induce  the  King  to  respect 
the  ancient  charters  of  the  free  cities,  and  to 
moderate  the  edicts  as^aiust  the  heretics. 

People  seemed  to  move  about  more  freely. 
Social  festi\ities  were  ventured  on.  John  van 
Broek  and  Christina  moved  into  their  new  house 
in  the  market-place,  which  had  been  built  for 
some  time  ;  and  among  us  there  were  many 
family  gatherings.  The  house  was  magnificent, 
with  princely  halls,  corridors  lined  with  pictures, 
buflets  loaded  with  plate  ;  but  Christina's  tastes 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  185 

were  rather  for  comfort  than  for  high  art  or  for 
splendour.  Her  chief  dehght  in  her  new  abode 
was  in  her  store-room  and  her  own  private  room, 
with  the  store  cupboards,  which  were  stocked 
with  all  manner  of  dainties  and  luxuries,  as  if  for  a 
siege — Spanish  fruits,  Italian  confects,  German 
hams  and  sausages,  preserved  meats  and  fruits 
— enough,  it  seemed  to  me,  for  a  city  or  a  life- 
time. She  opened  every  cupboard  and  drawer, 
to  show  me  the  exquisite  arrangement  of  her 
treasures,  and  insisted  on  loading  me  with  speci- 
mens of  her  various  goods  ;  and  then  she  led  mo 
to  her  private  sitting-room,  carpeted  throughout 
with  the  richest  Persian  rugs,  and  furnished  with 
the  softest  cushioned  seats  of  velvet  and  damask ; 
whilst  in  one  corner  was  a  fmiteuil  and  a  kneel- 
ing-stool,  before  a  table  on  which  stood  a  Flem- 
ish Bible,  and  in  another  a  private  entrance  to 
the  linen  closet,  amidst  whose  snowy  stores  my 
sister-in-law  delighted  to  expatiate  with  her 
maidens.  Dolores  and  Ursel  had  not  much  pa- 
tience with  Christina.  They  thought  her  so 
incomprehensibly  bound  in  bondage  to  things. 
But  to  me  there  was  something  that  always 
touched  my  heart  in  all  this.  It  seemed  like  a 
heart  that  had  been  baffled  in  its  natural  outlets, 
trying  to  create  foi'  itself  a  world  in  the  inani- 
mate things  around  her,  and  calling  the  stores 
of  linen,  and  ranks  of  preserves,  and  costly  fur- 
niture, "Aome,"  in  order  that  she  might  love 
them. 

16* 


"186  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

She  had  been  married  early  to  a  man  much 
older  than  herself,  whose  life  was  in  the  ex- 
change ;  and  whose  one  mode  of  showing  affec- 
tion to  her  was  in  heaping  her  with  costly- 
presents,  jewels,  laces,  carriages,  until  her  life 
seemed  overwhelmed  and  buried  in  a  multitude 
of  thincjs.  Their  only  child,  little  Hansken,  had 
died  young  ;  and  after  the  brief  interval  of  life 
and  love  the  short-lived  nursery  awoke,  she  had 
relapsed  into  her  old  inanimate  world.  But  I 
could  not  forget  the  little  chest  where  the  dead 
child's  wardrobe  lay,  nor  that  the  carved  table 
on  which  the  Bible  was  placed  contained,  in  a 
secret  draw^er,  many  tracts  of  Luther's — in 
themselves,  if  discovered,  a  sentence  of  death. 

I  often  tried  to  make  her  care  more  for  oth- 
ers. With  the  great  world  of  suffering,  strug- 
gling men,  and  women,  and  children  around 
her,  it  seemed  so  dreary  to  be  wasting  the  heart 
on  things  winch  could  give  nothing  back.  She 
would  do  any  thing  I  asked  her.  And,  before 
I  asked,  there  was  no  lack  of  alms  in  her  house. 
Beggars  and  pensioners  Avere  fed  daily  from  her 
abundant  kitchen  ;  blessings  followed  her  when 
she  entered  her  chair  to  leave  the  house,  which 
she  never  did  without  bestow^ing  money  on 
some  petitioners.  And,  at  my  request,  she  even 
accompanied  Dolores  to  one  of  the  hospitals. 
But  time  could  not  often  be  spared  from  the 
great  household  institutions  for  personal  work  j 
her  purse  Avas  opened,  indeed,  but  her  heart  re- 


THE    LIBERATION    OP    IIOLLAKD.  187 

mained  uninterested  ;  and  thus  the  people  were 
to  her  little  better  than  things — a  kind  of  reser- 
voirs for  alms. 

At  that  time  I  used  ofte»  to  disquiet  myself 
about  remodelling  people's  lives,  and  try  to  be  a 
kind  of  providence  to  them — to  my  own  May- 
ken,  for  instance,  or  Dolores,  or  Christina.  But 
since  then  I  have  learned  that,  on  the  whole,  the 
best  we  can  do  for  others  is  to  pray,  and  to  love, 
and  to  seek  to  follow  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
ourselves,  and  trust  to  God's  providence,  and 
not  try  to  make  a  providence  of  our  own. 

Meantime,  a  true  affection  sprang  up  in  Chris- 
tina's heart,  as  I  have  said,  for  Mayken  and  me ; 
and  that,  no  doubt,  was  much. 

All  did  not  quite  share  the  general  hopeful- 
ness. Ursel  could  not  forget  that  Count  Eg- 
mont  was  a  Catholic  ;  and  the  teaching  of  her 
Huguenot  pastors,  trained  to  judge  of  coux'ts  by 
the  perfidious  policy  of  their  Catharine  de  Medici, 
made  a  solemn  comment  on  the  text,  "  Put  not 
your  trust  in  princes."  Dolores  mournfully  said, 
"  Cardinal  Granvelle  was  not  at  Valladolid  nor 
at  Seville,  when  our  brethren  were  burned  there." 
And  when  Count  Egmont  returned,  full  of  bril- 
liant accounts  of  the  affability  of  King  Philip, 
and  of  his  cordial  reception  at  Madrid,  many 
besides  Mark  began  to  ask,  "  But  what  has  he 
brought  back  for  the  country?  Are  the  edicts 
moderated  or  repealed  ?  Is  the  Inquisition  abol- 
ished ?"     Indeed,  I  think  most  of  us  hoped,  from 


188  THE    LIBBEATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

the  mere  necessity  of  hoping.  One  weight  was 
removed,  and,  in  proportion  to  the  depression 
of  the  past,  people's  sj^irits  rose,  scarcely  ventur- 
ing to  speculate  on  the  future.  The  thunder- 
storm was  over;  and  we  sang  just  because  the 
air  was  lighter,  without  daring  to  look  at  that 
part  of  the  horizon  where  the  great  black  masses 
of  lurid  cloud  were  rolling  up.  Besides,  who 
could  prophesy  the  course  of  storms  ?  The 
slightest  changes  in  some  ixnseen  current  of  up- 
per air  might  turn  them  aside,  mountains  might 
attract  them  elsewhere ;  or,  at  the  worst,  have 
there  not  been  miracles  before  now  ?  Had  not 
the  bells  of  one  faithful  church  been  known  to 
avert  the  thunderbolts  ? 

So,  for  a  time,  at  Antwerp,  the  checked  cur- 
rent of  life  began  to  flow  again.  Enterprises 
which  had  been  deferred  were  undertaken. 
Protestant  merchants  and  workmen,  who  had 
been  intending  to  emigrate,  paused,  and  recom- 
menced their  former  occujDations.  Some  even 
who  had  emigrated,  returned. 

Then,  not  stealthily  like  a  j^estilence,  stalking 
in  darkness,  or  like  a  storm  in  Winter,  but  like  a 
burning  mountain,  suddenly  pouring  out  its 
stream  of  fire  over  quiet  fields  and  j^eaceful 
homes,  the  terrible  decision  came  from  Spain. 

The  decrees  of  the  Council  of  Trent  were  to 
be  enforced.  The  edicts  of  persecution  were  re- 
published. The  Inquisitors  were  confirmed  in 
their   authority.     King   Philip   "  would   rather 


THE    LIBERATION    OP    HOLLAND.  189 

rule  over  a  desert  than  over  a  nation  of  heretics." 
Informers  against  heretics  were  to  be  rewarded 
with  part  of  the  confiscated  goods  of  the  accused. 
Those  who  knew  of  the  existence  of  any  heret- 
ical opinion,  or  of  the  performance  of  any  her-' 
etical  rite,  and  did  not  inform  the  Inquisitor, 
were  liable  to  the  same  punishment  as  the  her- 
etics themselves.  All  privileges,  municipal  or 
aristocratic — all  charters,  were  to  be  nullified, 
by  a  decision  of  the  Inquisition.  One  alteration 
only  was  made.  To  deprive  the  heretics  of  all 
"  those  hopes  of  glory  which  were  a  powerful 
incentive  to  their  impiety ;"  and  yet  "  without 
making  any  deduction  from  their  sufferings, 
(which  certainly  was  not  the  royal  wish,  nor 
likely  to  be  grateful  to  God,  or  salutary  to  relig- 
ion,)" it  was  decreed,  "  that  the  condemned 
should  be  executed  secretly  in  prison,  ignomiui- 
ously  bound,  and  then  slowly  suffocated  in  tubs 
of  water." 

This  was  the  thunderbolt  which  fell  among  us 
one  Summer  morning  at  Antwerp,  after  all  our 
hopes.  Our  case,  and  that  of  all  confirmed 
Protestants,  was  plain,  indeed ;  but  there  was 
not  a  man  or  woman  in  the  city  who  might  not 
be  condemned  according  to  these  edicts.  Xo 
Catholic,  however  bigoted,  was  safe,  if  he  had 
ever  at  any  time  held  a  controversy  with  a  her- 
etic, and  had  not  betrayed  him.  No  rich  man 
was  safe  who  had  an  enemy  who  could  intro- 
duce a  tract  of  Luther's  into  his  house. 


190  THE   LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAKD. 

The  edicts  placed  the  whole  country  under 
sentence  of  death,  liable  to  be  executed  at  any 
moment,  and  only  to  be  escaped  by  denouncing 
others. 

All  hope  of  justice  or  mercy  from  the  king 
vanished.  Suspense  was  over.  All  who  could 
abandon  the  country  did.  Protestant  foreigners 
fled  precipitately  along  every  road  leading  to  the 
ports.  Industrious  Flemish  artisans  might  be 
seen,  with  their  wives  and  children,  carrying  what- 
ever was  i^ortable  of  their  household  furniture. 

One  morning  Truyken  came  back,  greatly  dis- 
gusted, fi'oni  her  expedition  to  procure  food  for 
the  family.  The  baker's  shop  was  closed ;  and, 
on  knocking,  she  could  obtain  no  response,  until 
a  neighbour  looked  out  of  an  opposite  Avindow, 
and  said,  "  You  may  knock  till  doomsday.  They 
sailed  last  night  for  England." 

And  that  night  Mark  came  back,  looking  tired 
and  worn. 

"  We  cannot  fulfill  our  contracts,"  he  said. 
"  The  master  clothier  on  whom  we  were  de- 
pending says  his  best  workmen  have  this  Aveek 
emigrated  in  a  body,  some  for  Norwich,  some 
for  Sandwich,  some  for  the  Hanse  Towns." 

But  hundreds  and  thousands  could  not  leave, 
or  would  not,  and  on  these  the  edicts  had  an 
effect  very  opposite  to  the  intention  of  the  au- 
thor. Since  no  caution  could  save,  caution 
might  as  well  be  laid  aside.  Since  suspicion 
was  as  dangerous  as  guilt,  concealment  was  use- 


THE   LIBERATION   OE   HOLLAND.  191 

less.  One  cry  of  execration  rose  throughout  the 
land,  not  as  an  appeal  to  the  king  (that  was  felt 
useless),  but  as  a  protest  in  the  face  of  heaven. 

As  the  Prince  of  Orange  was  said  to  have 
whispered  to  one  who  sat  next  to  him  at  the 
council-board,  "  The  curtain  had  opened  on  the 
great  traged)^,"  of  which  we,  young  when  it 
began,  in  our  gray  hairs  are  still  watching  its 
development.  ^ 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  terror  and  misery,  two 
great  marriages  Avere  filling  Brussels  with  festivi- 
ties and  splendour ;  that  of  the  yoimg  ill-fated 
Baron  Montigny,  and  that  of  Alexander  of  Parma, 
son  of  the  Governess,  the  Duchess  Margaret. 

The  festivities  extended  to  Antwerp.  Mayken 
was  delighted  with  the  triumphal  arches,  the 
illuminations,  and  the  sculptures  in  sugar  of  all 
the  great  personages  concerned  in  the  marriage, 
which  decorated  the  civic  banquets.  But,  ex- 
cept as  reflected  from  the  child's  happy  face,  the 
festival  brought  scarcely  a  gleam  of  pleasure  to 
us.     Who  could  forget  the  abyss  beneath  ? 

What  interested  us  more  was,  that,  on  the 
3d  of  November,  the  Prince  of  Parma's  Avedding- 
day,  Francis  Junius,  the  brave  French  Pefoi-med 
pastor,  was  summoned  to  preach  before  a  large 
assembly  of  nobles  at  Culemborg  House,  in  Brus- 
sels, and  was  listened  to  with  the  deepest  atten- 
tion, before  they  proceeded  to  discuss  certain 
grave  political  projects.  "For,"  as  Mark  said,  "if 
the  politics  failed,  the  Word  of  God  never  could." 


192  THE   LIBEKATIOX   OF   HOLLAND. 


Y. 


ONE  evening,  in  January,  1566,  we  were  sit- 
ting, Dolores,  Mark,  and  I,  in  the  little  sitting- 
room  which  we  had  prepared  for  her,  and  which 
had  now  become  our  fovourite  resort  when  we 
were  alone.  It  looked  very  dilferent  from  its 
aspect  on  the  Summer-day  when  we  had  first 
introduced  Dolores  to  it.  A  Northern  atmos- 
phere of  snugness  and  comfort  had  gradually 
crept  over  it,  and  there  was  little  in  its  appear- 
ance now  to  remind  us  of  sunny  Spain.  The 
window,  which  looked, now  over  the  white  tei*- 
race  of  snow-covered  roof  below  to  the  ice- 
bound Scheldt,  had  been  closed  early,  that  we 
might  open  our  hearts  to  the  Northern  sunshine 
within.  And  of  that  there  Avas  plenty.  Huge 
logs  from  the  pine  forests  flamed  and  crackled 
on  the  hearth,  and  flickered  on  the  heavy  dra- 
peries which  curtained  the  window  and  door ; 
and  on  the  corner  of  the  room,  sacred  to  Mayken 
and  her  toys,  her  piippets,  and  tiny  cart,  and  all 
her  miniature  world,  surmounted  by  her  bright- 
winged  bird,  brought  for  her  by  a  sailor,  from 
the  Indies,  as  a  grateful  remembrance  for  some 


THE   LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  193 

kindness  rendered  him  by  Mark.  Dolores  was 
seated  on  a  high-backed  chair  on  one  side  of  the 
fire,  embroidering,  Mark  and  I  were  leaning 
over  a  table  near,  reading  the  Confession  of 
Faith  of  the  Reformed  in  the  Netherlands  (first 
published  three  years  before,  in  1563),  and  to  be 
revised  and  republished  this  year.  At  the  end 
of  it  was  a  letter  to  the  King  of  Spain.  We 
knew  the  eloquent  words  well,  yet  it  stirred  our 
hearts  to  read  them  again.  The  brethren,  in 
those  pages,  "  protested,  before  God  and  his 
angels,  that  they  had  not  the  least  intention  to 
raise  np  tumults  and  riots,  but  only  to  reform 
themselves  according  to  the  Word  of  God  ;  that 
the  excommunications,  banishments,  racks  and 
tortures  they  had  suffered,  proved  that  their  de- 
sires were  not  carnal ;  forasmuch  as  many  of 
them  might  have  been  much  more  easy  according 
to  the  flesh,  if  they  had  not  embraced  those  doc- 
trines ;  but  that,  having  the  fear  of  God  before 
their  eyes,  and  being  terrified  with  the  threaten- 
ing of  Christ,  who  had  declared  in  his  Gospel, 
that  if  they  denied  Tlim  before  men.  He  would 
deny  them  before  God  the  Father,  they,  there- 
fore offered  their  backs  to  stripes,  and  their 
tongues  to  knives,  their  mouths  to  gags,  and 
their  whole  bodies  to  the  fire  ;  knowing  that 
such  as  will  follow  Christ  must  take  their  cross, 
and  deny  themselves.  They  did  not  only  pro- 
fess the  principal  articles  of  the  Christian  relig- 
ion contained  in  the  Symbolum,  or  Communion 
17 


194  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

Creed,  but  the  whole  doctrine  revealed  by  Jesus 
Christ  for  oi;r  justification  and  salvation,  preached 
by  the  evangelists  and  apostles,  sealed  with  the 
blood  of  so  many  martyrs,  and  preserved  pure 
and  entire  by  the  primitive  churches,  till  at  length 
it  became  corrujDted  by  the  ignorance,  ambition 
and  covetousness  of  the  clergy,  and  by  human 
additions  and  inventions."  We  had  just  come 
to  the  conclusion  :  "  We  bless  God  that  even  our 
enemies  themselves  are  forced  to  bear  witness  to 
the  integrity  of  our  lives  and  manners,  insomuch 
that  it  is  a  common  saying  with  them,  '  He  does 
not  swear  ;  he  is  a  Lutheran ;'  '  He  does  not  live 
riotously,  nor  drink ;  he  is  of  the  new  sect !' 
And  yet,  notwithstanding  so  honourable  a  testi- 
mony, no  kind  of  torments  are  forgotten  in  the 
punishing  of  us ;" — when  we  heard  a  strange 
voice  talking  loud  in  the  passage,  responded  to 
in  very  gentle  tones  by  Truyken.  Those  were 
not  days  when  imexpected  visits  could  be  wel- 
comed unrestrainedly,  and  Mark  rose  and  hastily 
hid  the  dangerous  document  in  a  cupboard  by 
the  chimney.  Then  the  door  opened,  and  Truy- 
ken appeared  with  a  letter. 

"  It  is  a  gentleman  below,  who  says  he  has 
business  of  importance  Avith  the  master,  and 
talks  big  of  great  names — Count  Louis  of  Nas- 
sau, Brederode,  and  other  great  nobles.  But 
the  times  are  perilous,  and  politics  are  safer,  to 
my  thinking,  in  the  council-chamber  than  at  the 
hearth." 


THE    LIBERATION    OP    HOLLAND.  195 

"It  is  all  right,  Truyken.  I  will  bring  the 
stranger  up  myself,"  said  Mark,  leaving  the 
room. 

"  Where  nothing  is  told,  nothing  can  be  re- 
told," muttered  Truyken  sententiously,  laying 
violent  hands  on  a  large  Bible  which  lay  on  the 
table,  and  disappearing  with  it. 

There  was  nothing  very  reassuring  in  the 
stranger's  aspect,  when  Mark  returned  with  him, 
and  introduced  him  to  us.  A  black  Spanish 
doublet,  puiFed  hose  and  sleeves,  a  short  court- 
ier's cloak,  a  velvet  Milan  bonnet,  and  a  long 
rapier ;  these  breathed  of  a  courtly  atmosphere, 
not  favourable  to  us  and  our  heretic  kind.  The 
gay,  frank  manner,  and  the  candid,  friendly 
smile,  disarmed  suspicion,  but  did  not  exactly 
command  confidence. 

Mark  introduced  him  to  us  as  the  Seigneur 
de  Clairvaux. 

"  The  ladies  are  not  Flemish,"  he  said,  bowing 
low, 

"  My  wife  is  Spanish,"  replied  Mark  ;  "  and 
this  lady  is  her  sister." 

"  You  come  from  the  paradise  of  the  Catho- 
lics," remarked  the  stranger,  "a paradise  guarded 
by  many  flaming  swords." 

"  You  need  not  be  afraid,"  said  Mark,  "  to 
open  your  commission  m  our  presence.  We 
are  of  one  mind  here." 

"  We  are  no  rebels  against  the  Church,  ladies," 
continued  the  stranger,  persisting  in  taking  our 


196  THE    LIBEKATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

orthodoxy  for  granted.  "  The  old  charters  of 
the  land,  the  old  privileges  of  our  order,  the 
old  faith  of  our  fathers,  tliat  is  all  we  want. 
Only,  if  people  are  to  burn  in  the  next  world 
for  their  heresies,  we  think  they  might  be  spared 
in  this.  Count  Egmont,  we  believe,  wishes  us 
well.  Yet  Egmont  is  a  fervent  Catholic,  and 
his  wife,  they  say,  the  most  devout  of  ladies. 
Viscount  Brederode,  one  of  the  chiefs  of  our 
confederation,  has  not,  perhaps,  much  to  boast 
of  in  the  way  of  religion  ;  but  he  is  as  impartial 
in  his  indifference,  as  the  Prince  of  Orange  in 
his  tolerance.  The  gallant  Count  Louis  of  Nas- 
sau is  indeed  of  a  Lutheran  family  ;  but  our 
aims  are  national  not  religious.  We  will  not 
suffer  any  murderous  Papal  Inquisitors  to  devas- 
tate our  cities  and  villages.  We  want  Flemish, 
charters  observed,  and  Flemish  nobles  respected. 
We  do  not  want  to  see  foreign  priests  ruling  in 
our  castles,  or  foreign  soldiers  commanding  in 
court  and  camp.  It  is  as  a  scion  of  the  ancient 
house  of  Rosevelt  that  I  have  ventured,  sir,  to 
address  you,  and  to  enlist  your  sympathies  in 
our  cause." 

Mark  smiled. 

"  My  little  watch-tower  on  the  marshes  of 
Holland,  has  procured  me  a  great  honour,"  he 
said.  "  Has  the  Prince  of  Orange  joined  your 
confederation  ?" 

"  No,  there  are  some  names  like  his,  Egmont's 
and  Horn's,   greater   alone.     But  his    brother 


THE    LIBERATION   OF   HOLLAND.  197 

Count  Louis  is  witli  us,  and  Count  Charles  of 
Mansfeldt  and  St.  Alde^onde.  You  can  see  tlie 
signatures,"  lie  said,  seating  himself  at  the  table 
from  which  we  had  just  swept  the  Confession 
of  the  Reformed,  and  unrolling  a  parchment 
with  numerous  noble  and  knightly  signatures  ; 
"  we  only  wish  you  to  affix  your  name  to  this." 

Rapidly  Mark  read  through  the  protest  aloud. 
There  were  glowing  words  against  tyranny,  and 
in  favour  of  religious  freedom.  The  king  was 
appealed  to  with  many  loyal  expressions  ;  and 
all  the  misery  of  the  country  was  represented 
as  proceeding  from  the  Inquisition,  which  was 
stigmatized  in  strong  words  as  "  iniquitous,  con- 
trary to  all  laws,  human  and  divine,  surpassing 
the  greatest  barbarism  ever  practised  by  tyrants, 
and  redounding  to  the  dishonour  of  God,  and 
the  total  desolation  of  the  country." 

"  Thank  God  !"  Dolores  exclaimed,  when  he 
had  finished  reading  ;  "  that  the  nobles  of  this 
land  are  at  last  rising  to  their  place  as  leaders 
of  the  people,  and  that  the  truth  is  told  by 
other  voices' than  those  of  weavers  and  peasants." 

(It  was  long  before  Dolores  would  trust  any 
movement  springing  from  below,  as  the  Dutch 
Reformation  for  the  most  part  did.) 

The  young  Seigneur  turned  to  her  with  great 
respect. 

"  The  lady  expresses  exactly  what  we  feel," 
he  said,  eagerly.  "  We  are  a  confederation  of 
nobles.     Hitherto  it  has  been  au  affair  between 


198  THE   LIBERATION    OF   HOLLAND. 

a  mob  of  well-meaning  but  low-born  artisans 
and  peasants,  and  the  priests.  Now  it  is  an 
affair  between  the  Spanish  courtiers  of  the  king, 
who  know  nothing  of  our  Flemish  customs,  and 
his  Majesty's  loyal  Flemish  nobles,  who  will  by 
no  means  suffer  our  ancient  rights  to  be  trampled 
under  foot.  That  is  quite  another  thing.  The 
poor  honest  weavers  could  and  did  die  coura- 
geously for  their  convictions ;  but  we  are  not  con- 
tending for  new  convictions,  but  for  solid  estab- 
lished rights,  and  we  can  fight  and  win  as  well 
as  die." 

"  Did  you  say  fight  ?"  asked  Mark,  quietly, 
"  Against  whom  ?" 

"  We  are  loyal  knights  and  barons  of  King 
Philip,"  said  the  young  Seigneur,  twirling  his 
long  moustache,  "  but  knights  and  barons  have 
rights  as  well  as  Icings." 

"  And  weavers,"  observed  Mark. 

"  And  weavers,"  responded  the  stranger,  look- 
ing doubtfully  at  my  husband.  "  Yes,  peasants 
and  artisans  have  rights  ;  at  least  we  ha,ve  the 
right  to  defend  them  from  wrong.  And  burgh- 
ers, Flemish  burghers,  Antwerp  merchants,  have 
even  charters.     We  will  protect  all." 

"  If  I  sign,"  said  Mark,  "  it  must  be  as  an 
Antwerp  burgher,  rather  than  as  a  Flemish 
noble.  Your  objects  seem  plain  ;  but  what  are 
the  means  by  which  you  purpose  to  obtaui 
them  ?" 

"  Petitions,  sir  ;  protests  and  petitions.     We 


THE   LIBERATION    OF   HOLLAND.  199 

mean  to  overwlielm  the  duchess  and  the  kmg 
with  petitions  from  every  city  and  every  condi- 
tion in  the  land." 

"  And  if  the  king  will  not  yield  ?" 

"  The  king  mvst  yield,  sir." 

"I  see,"  replied  Mark.  "If  the  king  will 
not  yield,  he  must.  That  is,  if  petitions  fail, 
rebellion  remains." 

"  It  is  not  rebellion,"  replied  the  young  Seig- 
neur, "  to  insist  on  the  performance  of  oaths 
which  the  king  has  taken,  and  on  the  observance 
of  charters  older  than  the  titles  or  title-deeds 
of  his  royal  house." 

"  I  think  not,"  replied  Mark,  quietly. 

The  young  man  was  encouraged,  and  opened 
his  heart  more  fully.  "  If  Flanders  were  once 
more  for  the  Flemings,  would  any  one  be 
wronged  ?"  he  said.  "  Things  which  have  a 
beginning  must  have  an  ending.  There  are  old 
men  among  us  who  saw  the  first  of  foreign 
domination  among  us.  There  may  be  young 
men  among  us  who  will  see  the  last  of  it." 

"  Possibly,"  said  Mark,  with  that  quiet  man- 
ner of  his  which  to  others  seemed  at  times  so 
cold,  but  to  me  meant  so  much.  "  But  you 
will  perhaps  not  mention  these  further  inten- 
tions in  your  petition  to  the  Duchess  Margaret  ? 
Ladies  are  easily  scandalized,  and  sometimes, 
it  is  said,  more  easily  with  words  than  with 
deeds." 

The  young  Seigneur  laughed. 


200  THE    LIBEKATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

"  She  may  be  scandalized  by  both  ere  long," 
he  said  ;  "  bnt  you  will  sign  ?" 

"  I  would  not  have  my  name  absent  from  any 
protest  against  the  great  confederacy  of  plunder 
and  murder  which,  in  the  name  of  religion,  is 
desolating  our  country,"  he  replied.  And  he 
signed  the  document  called  the  Compromise, 
"  Mark  van  Rosevelt,  cloth-merchant,  Antwerp." 

"  Seigneur,"  he  said,  then  rising,  and  laying 
his  hand  on  the  young  man's  arm.,  "  times  are 
before  us  which  no  pride  of  order,  or  gaiety  of 
nature,  will  carry  us  through.  I  believe  that 
protest  will  lead  further  than  you  think,  and 
therefore  I  sign  it.  This  is  a  contest,  believe 
me,  for  faith,  and  not  for  charters  ;  and  nothing 
but  faith,  the  faith  of  the  Bible,  will  carry  a 
man  through  it.  We  begin  under  one  banner, 
but  with  a  different  faitli.  I  believe  you  will 
one  day  either  desert  our  banner  or  embrace 
ovir  faith." 

"  Desert  our  banner  ?  Never  !"  repHed  the 
Seigneur  de  Clair vaux.  "  Embrace  your  faith  ? 
Scarcely,  if  you  are  indeed  Lutherans.  My 
family  has  been  too  long  on  the  other  side." 

Dolores  interposed. 

"  Seuor,"  she  said,  "  nobles  of  the  purest 
blood  of  Spain  have  embraced  this  new  faith, 
and  gloried  in  dying  for  it." 

"  I  have  heard  so,"  he  replied  ;  "  but  my  life 
has  been  in  camps,  and  we  learn  perhaps  there 
to  think  too  lightly  of  these  things.     However," 


THE   LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  201 

he  added,  gaily,  "  I  have  a  mother  and  a  young 
sister,  as  devout  as  any  saint  in  the  calendar, 
and  they  pray  for  me  constantly,  so  that  I  trust 
all  will  be  well." 

"  Will  you  stay  while  we  have  our  evening 
readinof  of  the  Bible  ?"  asked  Mark. 

A  perj)lexed  loo^  came  over  the  young  man's 
face.  "J  have  not  much  experience  of  grave 
books,"  he  said,  "  and  my  mother  and  sister's 
priests  have  warned  me  against  that  one  espe- 
cially, unless  it  is  in  Latin." 

"  "We  will  read  it  in  Latin,  if  you  like,"  said 
Mark. 

The  young  Seigneur  laughed.  "  That  would 
cei'tainly  do  me  no  harm,"  he  said.  "  My  brother 
has  the  family  living,  and  he  used  to  do  my 
Latin  for  me  at  the  college." 

"  Your  brother's  learning  it  has  not  then 
taught  you  Latin,"  observed  Mark,  dryly. 

"  Hardly,"  was  the  laughing  reply  ;  "  but  it 
has  saved  me  from  punishment." 

"  If  you  had  important  secret  business  at 
Rome,  and  could  only  communicate  with  the 
cardinals  in  Latin,  you  would  perhaps  wish  you 
had  endured  the  punishment,  and  learned  the 
Latin  in  your  own  person." 

"  Perhaps,"  was  the  reply.  ' 

"  I  was  only  thinking,"  said  Mark,  "  since 
vicarious  studies  do  not  seem  to  teach  Latin, 
whether  you  have  found  vicarious  piety  teach 
you  holiness.     If  prayer  is  the  language  of  the 


202  THE   LIBEEATION   OF   HOLLAND. 

court  of  heaven,  may  you  not  wish  one  day  you 
had  learned  it  for  yourself?" 

The  stranger  looked  grave. 

"  And  if  so,"  continued  Mark,  "  perhaps  it 
might  help  you  to  hear  what  our  blessed  Saviour 
himself  taught  about  prayer." 

We  all  sat  down.  The  Flemish  Testament 
was  taken,  and  Mark  read  part  of  the  13th,  14th, 
16th  and  17th  chapters  of  St.  John. 

The  young  Seigneur  listened  with  the  most 
unfeigned  attention.  When  Mark  paused,  he 
said: 

"  Is  that  what  the  heretics — what  you  read  in 
vour  assemblies  ?" 

"  Such  words  as  those.     God's  words." 

"  They  go  singularly  to  tl^  heart." 

"  Certainly.  God  made  the  heart,  and  sees  it. 
We  will  ask  him  to  teach  us." 

And  before  he  could  consider,  we  were  all  on 
our  knees,  as  so  often  before  and  since,  around 
the  great  Flemish  Testament,  by  that  fireside. 

When  we  rose,  the  Seigneur  de  Clairvaux 
said,  after  a  considerable  silence,  "  Is  that  the 
way  you  pray  in  your  meetings  ?" 

"  We  pray  from  the  heart,"  Mai'k  replied. 

De  Clairvaux  said  no  more ;  but  as  he  was 
leaving  the  room,  he  turned,  Avith  a  frank,  kindly 
smile,  which  lighted  up  all  his  face,  to  Dolores 
and  me,  and  said  : 

"  I  am  glad  I  stayed.  And  perhaps  you  will 
all,  if  ever  you  think  of  me,  sometimes  mention 


THE   LIBERATION   OF   HOLLAND.  203 

my  name  in  these  clevotions  of  yours.  We  are 
not  of  the  same  religion,  you  know  ;  but  I  feel 
sure  it  would  help  me,  and  I  think  my  mother 
could  not  object." 

I  said  afterwards  to  Mark,  "  You  were  hum- 
ble in  your  signature  !" 

"  Hardly,"  he  replied,  smiling;  "to  my  Dutch 
imagination,  a  fleet  of  ships  at  sea,  an  army  of 
artisans  in  pay,  such  as  obey  the  great  cloth- 
merchants  at  Antwerp,  is  more  a  subject  of 
pride  than  a  ruinous  old  tower  in  Holland,  with 
the  glorious  distinction  that  my  ancestors  lived 
in  it  for  some  centuries,  and  did  nothing  to  dis- 
tinguish themselves." 

Three  months  afterwards,  when  the  Scheldt 
was  unbound  from'its  fetters  of  ice,  when  ships 
and  swallows  began  to  come  and  go,  on  the  5th 
April,  1556,  Counts  Culemburg,  Van  den  Berg, 
and  Louis  of  Nassau,  and  Viscount  Brederode 
assembled  in  the  great  square  of  the  horse- 
market  at  Brussels,  before  the  Culemburg  man- 
sion, with  three  hundred  confederate  nobles  and 
knights.  Almost  all  were  young,  and  of  ancient 
houses,  blending  the  hope  and  vigour  of  youth 
with  the  grave  weight  and  solidity  of  ancestral 
centuries.  They  marched  along  the  great  street 
to  the  palace  of  the  Duchess  Margaret.  There 
a  great  crowd  had  met  to  welcome  and  cheer 
them  on,  as  the  deliverers  of  their  country. 

The  Duchess  was  not  so  much  pleased.    Seated 
on  her  chair  of  state,  she  received  them  with 


204  THE   LIBERATION   OF   HOLLAND. 

evident  agitation,  which  did  not  diminish  as  the 
Compromise  or  Petition  was  read  aloud.  Tears 
rolled  down  her  face,  not  at  any  time  remarkable 
for  its  feminine  exj^ression.  They  were  tears  of 
mortification  and  fear.  Nevertheless,  as  one  by 
one  the  young  nobles  made  their  courtly  bow  in 
retiring  from  her  presence,  through  her  tears  she 
contrived  to  observe  many  whose  presence  on 
that  day  was  never  forgiven. 

As  they  were  departing.  Count  Barlaymont, 
one  of  thfe  most  bigoted  of  her  counsellors,  is 
said  to  have  exclaimed  : 

"  What !  is  your  highness  afraid  of  these  beg- 
gars, these  gueux  P 

The  derisive  epithet  of  the  great  noble  was 
overheard,  and  proudly  ado^Dted  by  the  lesser 
nobles,  who  constituted  the  confederacy. 

"When  next  we  saw  our  visitor,  the  Seigneur 
de  Clairvaux,  his  courtly  dress  was  exchanged 
for  a  sober  suit  of  gray,  gray  doublet  and  hose 
of  the  coarsest  materials  ;  a  felt  hat  clasped  with 
a  rude  copper  medal,  for  the  plumed  bonnet ;  a 
beggar's  pouch  and  bowl  by  his  side. 

And  throughout  that  Summer  Antwerj)  echoed 
with  the  ci^,  "Vivent  les  Gueux!"  sounded  in 
all  tones  and  voices,  from  the  fierce,  hoai'se  cries 
of  the  turbulent  mobs,  to  the  merry  shouts  of 
little  boys  parading  the  streets  with  their  minia- 
ture bowls  and  wallets. 

A  pax-ty  name,  a  party  cry,  a  party  badge  had 
been  found. 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  205 

But,  Mark  said,  true  and  deep  changes  began 
from  within,  and  time  Avould  show  who  were 
ready  to  be  really  beggared  for  the  good  cause. 

Yet  it  was  impossible  not  to  hope,  with  Spring 
and  Summer  opening  the  countless  leaves  of  the 
trees  around  us,  and  the  power  of  new  life  bring- 
ing freshness  into  every  dingy  court  of  the  city 
in  which  sprang  a  blade  of  grass ;  and  our  May- 
ken,  our  perpetual  May,  in  the  house.  Could  all 
the  power  of  life  we  saw  around  us  in  these 
young  nobles,  these  enterprising  merchants, 
these  bold  burghers,  be  crushed  by  the  wintry, 
icy  will  of  one  man  in  his  palace  hundreds  of 
miles  aw^ay  in  Spain  ? 

Would  the  King,  noi  afar  off,  on  His  throne 
in  heaven,  suffer  it  ? 

That  was  the  great  hope,  after  all,  and  it  never 
fails. 

Only  His  ways  are  not  our  ways,  and  until  we 
see  them  spread  below  us  from  the  heights  above, 
with  Him  to  interpret  them  to  us,  we  shall  never 
understand  them  all. 


18 


206  TUE    LIBEKATION    OF    HOLLAND. 


YI. 


IflDSUMMER-DAY,  1566,  is  a  day  we  often 
J-'J-  speak  of.  In  the  first  place,  it  was  Mayken's 
fifth  birth.-day ;  and  which  of  us  can  forget  the 
wonder  and  delight  in  her  bright  little  face, 
when  she  came  into  Doloi'es'  room  that  morning, 
and  found  her  toy-world  converted  into  a  bower 
of  roses,  in  Avhich  her  bird,  with  its  bright 
emerald  plumage,  seemed  quite  at  home ;  while 
several  new  puppets,  dressed  some  as  Andalu- 
sian  peasants,  with  velvet  jackets  and  bright 
petticoats,  some  as  Spanish  court-ladies,  and 
some  as  Flemish  or  Dutch  burgher- women,  kept 
court  among  the  flowers. 

Dolores  and  Ursel  always  insisted  that  there 
never  was  childish  beauty  like  Mayken's.  I 
hardly  think  that ;  her  features  were  not  regular 
enough.  But  I  must  say,  when  her  little  face  was 
flushed  with  pleasure,  as  it  was  on  that  Midsum- 
mer morning,  and  her  blue  eyes,  usually  so  earnest, 
sjjarkled  as  if  the  light  came  through  them  from 
a  sunny  world  within,  and  the  sweet  lips  quiv- 
ered with  pleasure,  it  made  any  one  happy  to 
look  at  her. 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  207 

Her  great  delight,  however,  that  day,  was  to 
take  a  little  basket  of  clothes,  and  toys,  and  flow- 
ers, to  a  little  child  who  lived  near  us.  It  took 
her  some  time  to  select  all  the  most  fragrant 
flowers  she  could  find;  and  it  was  a  serious 
affair  to  decide  what  toys  she  could  spare,  be- 
cause to  Mayken  the  old  toys  had,  in  the  course 
of  her  short  life  become  invested  with  associa- 
tions Avhich  no  one  else  could  appreciate,  but 
which  made  parting  hard ;  and  the  new  toys 
coidd  not  always  be  given  away,  out  of  respect 
to  the  donors.  At  length,  however,  we  started, 
Mayken  insisting  on  the  privilege  of  carrying 
the  basket.  It  was  a  great  pleasure  to  see  the 
delight  of  the  poor  crippled  child  at  the  unex- 
pected gift;  and  we  had  to  stay  some  time  that 
Mayken  might  initiate  her  into  the  meaning  and 
use  of  the  various  toys,  and  the  position  they 
occupied  in  their  toy-world. 

By  the  time  we  reached  home,  I  found  Mark 
waiting,  with  a  donkey  ready  caparisoned,  at 
the  door,  his  birth-day  gift  to  the  child.  Two 
saddled  mules  stood  beside  it. 

"  Come  at  once,  Costanza,"  he  said.  "  There 
is  not  a  moment  to  be  lost.  We  are  all  going 
to  the  great  preaching  at  the  lord  of  Berchem's 
wood." 

In  a  few  minutes  we  were  dressed,  and  on 
our  way.  The  streets  were  thronged  with 
people,  all  in  full  holiday  attire ;  for  it  Avas  St. 
John's  Tide ;  and  those  who  were  too  aged  or 


208  THE    LIBEEATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

infirm  to  move  about,  sat  at  the  doors  of  their 
houses,  commenting  on  the  passers  by.  As  we 
passed  John  van  Broek's  great  house  in  the 
market,  I  said  : 

"  Let  us  ask  Christina  to  come." 

Ursel,  who  was  with  us,  smiled,  and  said, 
"  You  can  try." 

I  ran  up  to  her  private  room,  and  Ursel  fol- 
lowed. 

"  My  dear  child,"  she  said,  "  you  quite  startled  . 
me.     I  scarcely  see  how  it  is  possible.     Besides, 
is  not  the  preacher  a  French  Calvinist  ?" 

"  He  is  a  Protestant  Christian,"  I  said,  "  like 
Fabricius." 

"  But  it  is  such  an  inconvenient  day.  It  is 
the  very  morning  I  had  arranged  with  my  house- 
keeper to  look  over  the  preserves  ;  and,  in  a 
large  household,  if  things  are  not  done  at  the 
appointed  time,  it  is  astonishing  how  long  it 
takes  before  order  is  restored.  And,  besides,  I 
am  not  very  strong.  Last  night  I  sneezed  four 
times  ;  and  John  said — " 

"Christina,"  interposed  Ursel,  impatiently, 
"  the  King  of  Spain  will  not  wait  till  your  pre- 
serves are  finished,  to  execute  his  edicts.  Who 
knows  when  there  may  be  another  public  preach- 
ing !" 

"  Ursel  never  can  imderstand  the  responsibili- 
ties and  duties  of  a  household,"  said  Christina, 
appealing  to  me. 

But  I  took  her  hands  and  said — 


THE   LIBERATIOIS-   OP   HOLLAND.  209 

"  You  are  risking  life  and  all  every  day  you 
keep  that  Bible  in  this  room.  You  share  our 
danger.  Do  come  and  share  with  us  the  joy 
of  the  good  tidings." 

"  But  how  am  I  to  go  ?"  she  said,  relenting. 
"  I  cannot  walk." 

"  I  can  walk,  thank  God,"  said  Ursel.  "  You 
shall  ride  my  mule." 

And  Christina  came. 

Mark  was  pleased,  and  Mayken  clapped  her 
hands  in  welcome.  Ursel  walked  with  Mark, 
rather  rejoicing  in  the  sacrifice  ;  and  we  started. 

The  streets  were  full  of  people.  Burgher 
fathers  and  mothers  gravely  marching  before  a 
train  of  children,  all  dressed  in  quaint  miniatures 
of  their  parents'  costume,  and  copying  closely 
their  parents'  demeanour.  Groups  of  appren- 
tices of  the  various  trades  flinging  jokes  on  all 
sides,  or  walking  silent  with  their  sweethearts. 
Old  men  were  willingly  led  to  the  various  shows 
by  little  eager  children  like  Mayken.  Of  shows 
there  were  plenty.  In  one  place,  French  dogs 
were  dancing ;  in  another,  there  was  a  bear 
baited,  or  a  riding  at  the  Quintain  ;  in  another, 
a  "true  Spanish  bull-fight"  was  announced,  with 
a  matador  from  Seville.  All  languages  were 
spoken  around  us,  and  costumes  of  all  nations 
met  our  eye ;  but  among  all  the  rich  velvet 
doublets,  gay  hose,  and  dainty  slippers,  gold 
chains  and  plumed  bonnets,  the  most  j^opular 
costume  evidently  was  the  coarse  gray  doublet 
18* 


210  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

and  hose,  and  the  felt  hat  of  the  Gueux.  Where- 
ever  this  appeared,  shouts  or  murmurs  arose 
from  the  crowd  of  "  Vivent  les  Gueux  !"  They 
indicated  too  plainly  what  a  volcano  smouldered 
under  all  these  festivities. 

We  thought  the  crowd  would  diminish  when 
we  left  the  city-gates,  and  we  should  be  able  to 
pursue  our  way  in  peace. 

At  first,  however,  the  road  outside  the  gates 
seemed  almost  as  much  thronged  as  the  streets 
within.  Many,  no  doubt,  were  going  to  the 
various  summer-houses  and  pleasure-gardens  in 
the  neighbourhood  ;  but  as  the  pleasure-gardens 
were  left  behind,  the  road  still  was  thronged. 
The  travellers,  however,  seemed  of  a  diiferent 
order.  The  variety  of  costume,  rank,  and  age 
was  the  same  ;  but  they  were  no  longer  saunter- 
ers,  pausing  to  exchange  a  jest  with  all  who 
were  so  inclined.  All  were  going  in  one  direc- 
tion, and  with  the  steady  pace  of  men  who  had 
a  purjiose. 

At  the  entrance  of  the  wood  we  were  chal- 
lenged by  armed  men  on  horseback  ;  but  seeing 
Mark,  they  readily  let  us  pass.  We  were  glad 
to  leave  the  dusty  road  for  the  Avood  of  the 
lord  of  Berchem,  where  the  preaching  was  to 
be.  It  was  very  pleasant  to  enter  under  the 
sheltering  shade  of  the  tall  old  trees,  Mayken's 
delight  at  the  wild  flowers,  the  briar-roses, 
honey-suckles,  and  wild  convolvulus,  which  gar- 
landed the  branches,  was  unbounded. 


THE   LIBERATION   OP   HOLLAND.  211 

At  last  the  avenue  through  which  we  had 
been  riduig  opened  out,  and  in  a  large  grassy 
clearing  of  the  wood  we  saw  a  vast  multitude 
already  assembled.  In  the  centre  was  erecte'd 
a  rude  pulpit,  formed  of  planks  laid  on  a  wag- 
on, but  the  preacher  had  not  yet  mounted  it. 

The  women  were,  for  the  most  part,  collected 
in  the  centre,  around  the  pulpit,  for  safety. 
Around  stood  and  sat,  or  moved  about  in  groups, 
a  cordon  of  earnest,  determined-looking  men. 
There  were  no  barricades  of  wagons  on  this 
occasion,  as  was  usual.  The  surrounding  wood 
was  deemed  sufficient  fortification.  But  at  every 
broad  avenue,  even  at  every  narrow  Avoodman's 
path,  armed  men  Avere  stationed,  whose  swords, 
daggers,  pistols,  or  muskets,  gleamed  strangely 
amidst  that  peaceful  scene  ;  peaceful,  indeed,  to 
the  eye,  but  environed  with  perils.  Every  man 
and  woman,  by  the  act  of  coming  there,  placed 
themselves  under  sentence  of  death  ;  death  by 
any  torturing  method  that  the  ingenuity  of  the 
inquisitors  could  devise.  And  all  knew  it. 
There  was  little  danger  of  levity  or  slumber  in 
that  congregation. 

The  greater  number  were  sitting  silent  and 
still,  but  some  were  talking  in  low  gi'ave  tones. 

These  meetings  had  not  long  been  ventured 
on.  The  first  had  been  held  in  West  Flanders 
on  the  14th  of  June,  only  ten  days  before.  The 
preacher  who  had  dared  to  preach  the  first  open- 
air  sermon  was  Herman  Striker,  or  Modet,  once 


212  THE   LIBERATION   OF   HOLLAND. 

a  monk,  but  now  a  Reformed  preacher  at  Oude- 
narde.  The  scout,  or  sheriff  of  Gentbrug,  had 
endeavoured  to  arrest  the  minister,  and  disperse 
the  assembly  ;  but  Herman  Modet  had  escaped 
into  a  neighbouring  wood,  and  the  people, 
although  only  armed  with  sticks  and  staves, 
had  driven  off  the  sheriff. 

But  the  great  subject  of  conversation  was  the 
meeting  held  only  the  day  before  in  a  meadow 
near  Ghent,  barricaded  with  wagons,  and 
guarded  by  armed  sentinels.  Here  Herman 
Modet  had  preached  to  many  thousands,  and  a 
child  had  been  baptized  with  water  from  a  neigh- 
bouring  brook. 

The  sermon  on  that  Midsummer  day  was  to 
be  in  "Walloon,  and  the  preacher  a  French  C^ 
vinist,  either  Francis  Junius,  pastor  of  the  secret 
French  Church  at  Antwerp,  or  Peregrine  de  la 
Gransre.  La  Grantee  and  Junius  were  both  men 
of  noble  French  families — Junius  from  Bourges, 
and  La  Grange  of  the  old  Proven5al  blood,,  with 
the  old  Provencal  fire  in  his  heart,  in  a  nobler 
cause  than  that  of  Crusader  or  Troubadour. 
He  used  to  ride  to  the  preaching  like  his  ances- 
tors to  the  battle,  and  call  the  attention  of  bis 
audience  by  a  pistol-shot ;  and  certainly  the  ser- 
mon to  him  was  as  perilous  as  the  battle  to 
them. 

Our  little  party  preferred  to  remain  at  the 
edge  of  the  congregation,  under  the  shade  of  the 
great  trees.     The  mules  were  fastened  to  the 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  213 

trees,  and  before  the  service  began,  Mayken  wag ' 
among  them,  filling  her  arms  with  flowers. 
That  day  was  quite  an  era  to  her,  in  her  way. 
Henceforth  in  her  dreams  and  jolays  she  was 
always  among  the  great  trees ;  and  wonderful 
were  the  narratives  of  forest-life,  of  the  birds, 
flowers,  and  insects,  told  to  her  little  crij^pled 
playmate  on  our  return.  She  had  her  own  ser- 
mon that  Summer  day,  if  it  was  not  the  same  as 
ours. 

It  was  a  scene  never  to  forget.  The  wood- 
hind  quiet  scarcely  broken  by  the  presence  of 
these  waiting  thousands,  so  that  the  little  brook 
which  flowed  near,  and  the  occasional  songs  of 
birds,  deep  in  the  wood,  could  be  heard  dis- 
tinctly. The  women  were  seated  in  the  midst, 
the  men  outside,  and  amongst  them  hawkers  of 
religious  books,  all  prohibited  by  the  Inquisition, 
silently  moved  in  and  out,  not  noisily  commend- 
ing their  wares,  but  disposing  of  them  silently 
to  eager  purchasers  ;  for  every  book  thus  eagerly 
bought  was  a  warrant  of  arrest.  Nothing  in- 
terested me  more  than  watching  these  men,  as 
they  were  welcomed  by  group  after  group,  and 
left  the  happy  purchaser  earnestly  bending  over 
the  new  treasure — some  commentary  of  Luther 
or  Calvin,  or  better  still  some  portion  of  the  Sa- 
cred Scriptures  themselves,  then  first  obtained. 
Poor  peasants  bought  them,  to  whom  the  price 
must  have  involved  many  a  scanty  meal ;  rich 
burgher  traders,  to  whom  their  possession  was  a. 


214  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

legal  confiscation  of  all  their  wealth.  But  the 
price  of  these  forbidden  books  might  have  to  be 
paid,  not  in  gold  or  silver,  but  with  life  ;  and 
sellei'  and  buyer  knew  it,  and  knew  also  that  at 
that  price  the  truth  in  them  was  not  dearly- 
bought. 

I  could  not  help  offering  many  a  prayer,  as 
book  after  book  was  bought,  and  read  silently, 
or  in  low  tones,  to  eager  listening  groups,  that 
God  might  speak  their  precious  words  to  the 
heart. 

At  length  there  was  a  silence.  Every  mur- 
mur and  conversation  was  hushed.  Mayken 
was  recalled  from  her  wanderings,  and  seated  on 
my  knee.  The  preacher  mounted  the  pulpit, 
and  the  verse  of  one  of  Clement  Marot's  Psalms 
was  given  out.  Before  it  was  read  through, 
liowever,  a  cry  came  from  the  outskirts  of  the 
crowd,  from  some  of  the  armed  sentinels : 

"  The  militia  are  upon  us." 

The  women  clustered  closer  together,  the  men 
formed  in  ranks  and  made  ready  their  arms, 
whilst  from  the  whole  multitude  broke  the 
reply  : 

"  Let  them  come.     We  are  ready  for  them." 

It  was  a  false  alarm.  No  enemy  appeared, 
and  in  a  few  moments  the  preacher  calmly  re- 
commenced reading  the  psalm.  Only  one  verse 
was  read.  Most  of  those  present  knew  it  by 
heart.  And  then  from  the  four  or  five  thousand 
present  burst  forth  a  psalm  such  as  I  never  ex- 


THE   LIBEEATION    OF   HOLLAND.  215 

pect  to  hear  again.  Slow,  grave,  and  solemn, 
deep  as  an  organ  in  the  great  Antwerp  Cathe- 
dral ;  yet  to  comjDare  that  burst  of  living  music 
to  any  product  of  strings  and  pipes  would  be  a 
profanation !  Every  voice  steady  with  deter- 
mination, thrilling  with  emotion,  it  was  a  song 
of  ])raise  and  confidence  soaring  to  heaven ;  but 
it  was  also  a  battle-song,  sung  perhaps  in  the 
hearing  of  mortal  foes.  It  was  such  a  song  as 
Israel  sang  by  the  Red  Sea,  or  rather  such  a  song 
as  the  army  of  Jehoshaphat  sang  before  the  battle 
— a  song  before  which  the  enemy  fled  as  from  a 
charge — for  our  victory  was  not  yet  gained.  In 
one  sense,  indeed,  it  was  gained,  and  all  our 
hymns,  since  Calvary,  may  be  songs  of  triumph, 
but  the  pathos  of  poor  trembling  human  hearts 
mingled  with  the  glowing  tones  of  trust  and 
praise,  hearts  that  must  separate  from  this  in- 
spiring concourse  to  fight  out  the  fight  in  unde- 
fended homes,  and  perhaps  in  solitary  prison 
chambers. 

The  last  note  of  the  hymn  died  away,  and 
then,  on  the  silence  of  that  Midsummer  noon, 
in  the  forest  stirred  by  light  Summer  winds, 
arose  the  one  voice  in  prayer,  low  at  first,  but 
swelling,  deepening  with  emotion,  as  low,  quiet 
sobs  responded  to  it  here  and  there  among  the 
crowd.  All  stood  during  the  singing  ;  during 
the  prayer  many  knelt.  The  prayer  was  not 
long.  Its  range  lay  princii^ally  between  to-day 
and  heaven  ;  remembering  the  brethren  who  too 


216  THE    LIBEEATIO^T    OF    HOLLAND. 

certainly  lay  in  close  dungeons  on  that  Midsum- 
mer noon,  tlirongbout  the  once  free  Flemish 
land,  the  martyrs  who  might  too  probably  be  on 
the  rack,  or  at  the  stake,  whilst  we  prayed  in  the 
great  forest ;  the  i^ersecutors  who  were  heaping 
np  misery  on  earth,  perhaps,  for  us,  and  for 
themselves  too  certainly  misery  unutterable  when 
the  Judge  should  come,  the  Judge  of  unjust 
judges,  the  King  of  kings.  Amongst  ns,  j^er- 
haps,  now  adoring  God  thus  at  the  risk  of  life, 
were  some  who  had  once  thought  it  doing  God 
service  to  slay  His  children  ;  the  hearts  of  others 
might  be  changed  as  much  and  as  easily.  He 
prayed  God  to  do  it.  There  were  few  amongst 
ns,  I  think,  who  did  not  rise  from  that  prayer 
with  the  feeling  that  all  life  is  but  to-day,  but  a 
Summer's  day ;  and  to-morrow  the  morrow  on 
which  God  and  not  man  will  judge — eternity. 

Then  came  the  sermon,  the  closely-reasoned 
commentary  on  the  text,  the  hopes  and  fears 
springing  from  it ;  the  appeal  to  the  power  of 
God,  before  which  man  is  nothing,  and  the  love 
of  God,  to  which  every  man,  woman  and  child 
there  was  so  precious. 

Mayken  sat  on  my  knee.  The  psalm  had 
quite  overcome  her,  but  soon  her  tears  had  stop- 
peel,  and  then  before  long  she  had  fallen  asleep, 
with  her  hands  wreathing  her  flowers.  But 
when,  towards  the  close,  his  voice  grew  deep 
and  low  with  feeling,  and  the  silence  became 
more  intense,  as  he  spoke  of  Jesus  having  borne 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  217 

our  sins  on  the  cross,  and  borne  tliem  away,  and 
having  power  on  earth  now  to  forgive  sins,  I 
saw  her  large  earnest  eyes  fixed  on  him,  as  she 
lay  with  her  head  on  my  shoulder,  and  her  lips 
murmured  the  sacred  Name,  as  if  she  under- 
stood. 

In  concluding,  he  read  to  us  the  11th  of  He- 
brews, and  at  the  end  of  it  he  said : 

"  The  list  is  not  closed  yet. 

"This  Spring,  when  these  leaves,  now  rust- 
ling above  you  in  the  Summer  noon,  were  one 
by  one  bursting  their  wintry  prisons,  and  ex- 
panding in  the  pleasant  sunshine,  some  dear  to 
God  were  bursting  the  prison  w^alls  of  this  poor 
earth,  passing  into  the  sunshine  of  His  presence. 

"  The  hand  which  broke  their  fetters  of  flesh 
was  no  gentle  one ;  but  beloved,  it  set  them  free. 
At  Lisle,  this  Spring,  were  burnt,  by  King 
Philip's  Inquisitors,  Martin  Bayert,  Claudius  du 
Flot,  John  Dautricourt,  and  Noel  Tournemine. 
Remember  their  names.  You  will  hear  them 
again  in  the  face  of  heaven  and  earth,  of  kings 
and  Inquisitors,  from  the  lips  of  the  Judge  of  all. 
Noel  Tournemine  was  but  a  youth,  and  for  him 
there  was  a  sorer  trial  even  than  the  flames. 
His  father  pressed  through  the  crowd  as  the  four 
martyrs  were  being  led  to  the  stake,  and  fell  on 
his  son's  neck,  kissing  and  embracing  him,  and 
cried,  '  My  dear  child,  are  you  going  to  die 
thus  ?' 

"The  young  man  answered  at  first  with  a 
19 


218         •    THE    LIBEKATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

Steady  voice,  'It  is  a  small  matter,  my  father ; 
for  noAV  I  am  hasting  to  live  for  ever.' 

"  But  as  the  father  wept  and  groaned,  and 
clung  to  him,  the  yoiith's  firmness  gave  way, 
and  he  also  wejit;  and  turning  to  the  clergy 
who  were  with  him,  urging  him  to  recant,  he 
said : 

"  '  Oh,  ye  priests  and  friars !  if  we  could  have 
been  prevailed  on  to  go  to  your  mass,  we  had  not 
been  here  now.  But  Christ  Jesus  has  not  insti- 
tuted any  such  sacrifice.' 

"  Then  his  father  was  taken  from  him,  and  the 
four  went  on  to  the  place  of  execution.  At  the 
stake,  they  sang  with  one  voice  the  verse,  '  The 
Lord  is  my  light  and  my  salvation  :  whom  shall 
I  fear  ?  The  Lord  is  the  strength  of  my  life :  of 
whom  shall  I  be  afraid?'  And  then  the  Song 
of  Simeon,  '  Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy  servant 
depart  in  peace.'  And  so  their  singing  and  their 
life  ended  together." 

"  Beloved,"  the  preacher  continued,  "  let  us  not 
deceive  ourselves.  The  Lord  does  not  for  us 
quench  the  violence  of  fire,  as  for  the  three  chil- 
dren of  old  ;  nor  does  our  faith  quench  the  agony 
of  parting.  We  follow  a  Master  who  suffered 
as  none  else  ever  sufiered,  because  (partly  at 
least,  because)  He  loved  as  none  else  ever  loved. 
Likeness  to  Him  does  not  steel  the  heart.  Near- 
ness to  Him  does  not  extinguish  the  flames. 
The  heart  may  be  torn  with  anguish,  and  the 
body  may  writhe  in  torture.     Let  us  not  deceive 


THE   LIBERATION   OF   HOLLAND.  219 

ourselves.  He  has  not  promised  us  exemption 
from  tribulation  and  pain.  But,  beloved,  He  has 
promised  to  be  with  us.  This  is  our  own  promise. 
Not,  '  Ye  shall  never  hunger,'  but,  '  I,  the  bread 
of  life,  will  not  forsake  thee.'  Not,  'Ye  shall 
never  be  shut  up  in  noisome  dimgeons,'  but  '  I 
will  never  leave  thee.'  Not,  '  The  fire  shall  not 
kindle  upon  thee,'  but '  I  will  be  with  thee  in  the 
furnace.'  Brethren,  is  this  promise  enough  for 
you  ?  I  can  ofler  you,  truly,  none  beside.  I 
could  tell  you,  indeed,  of  some  to  whom  the  very 
fire  has  caused  little  pain  ;  of  one  John  Tiskan, 
a  tapestry  weaver  at  Oudenarde,  where  our 
Duchess  Margaret  was  born,  who  seized  the 
mass-bread  from  the  priest's  hands,  and  crumbled 
it  in  his  fingers,  to  show  the  people  it  was  bread, 
and  not  God — a  young  enthusiastic  disciple  of 
twenty-two.  They  sentenced  him  to  lose  the 
offending  hand,  and  be  burned  slowly  to  death. 
But  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  his  sufferings  were 
over ;  and  think,  brethren,  of  his  welcome  in 
heaven.  Think  of  the  mockings  of  cruel  men 
here.  Think  of  the  '  Come,  ye  blessed' — of  the 
welcoming  song  of  angels.  Think  of  them  ? 
Can  we  not  almost  hear  them  still?  Their 
echoes  have  scarcely  died  away  in  heaven ;  for 
this  was  on  the  8th  of  June.  A  fortnight  and 
two  days  since!  Beloved,  he  has  learned  but 
little  of  Paradise  yet ;  and  yet  I  think  that  fort- 
night may  outweigh  the  quarter  of  an  hour  in 
the  flames.     But  I  do  not  promise  you  only  a 


220  THE    LIBERATION    OP    HOLLAND. 

quarter  of  an  hour  of  suffering.  I  have  no  such 
commission.  It  may  be  hours.  It  may  be  re- 
newed, as  the  poor  worn  frame  can  bear  it,  dur- 
ing many  years.  Count  the  cost  carefully.  But, 
afterwards,  can  you  count  the  reward  ?  A 
quarter  of  an  hour  to  a  fortnight!" — he  con- 
tinued slowly,  as  if  computing.  "  We  can  count 
that ;  but  who  can  measure  the  proportion  be- 
tween twenty,  thirty,  seventy  years  of  suffering, 
and  an  eternity  with  Christ  ? 

"  Nor  can  I  tell  you,"  he  proceeded,  "  what 
deeds  the  Inquisitors  may  consider  sufficient  to 
merit  the  doom  of  the  vilest  criminal.  This 
year,  John  Cornelius  Winter,  formerly  pastor  of 
the  Great  Church  at  Horn,  was  sentenced  to  the 
axe,  after  a  long  imprisonment,  because  he  had 
translated  the  Lord's  Prayer,  the  Apostles' 
Creed,  and  several  passages  and  sentences  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures  into  Dutch,  to  teach  them  to  the 
little  children  of  the  school,  and  other  imiorant 
persons.  And  this  year  he  laid  his  head  cheer- 
fully on  the  block.  On  the  scaffold  the  aged 
l^riest  sang  the  Te  Deum  in  Latin ;  and  it  was 
observed  that  when  he  came  to  the  words,  '  The 
noble  army  of  martyrs  praise  thee,'  his  head  Avas 
separated  from  his  body.  '  Praise  Thee  !  praise 
Thee !'  His  language  could  have  needed  little 
change,,  as  he  took  his  place  among  the  noble 
army  above  ! 

"  You  see,  the  glorious  catalogue,  the  muster- 
roll  of  that  noble  army,  is  not  closed  yet.    Which 


THE   LIBERATION   OF   HOLLAND.  221 

of  our  names  will  swell  it  ?  Still  our  brethren 
are  bearing  trial  of  cruel  mockings,  of  bonds 
and  imprisonment,  of  fires  whose  violence  has 
not  for  them  been  quenched.  The  ages  that 
have  passed  since  the  apostle  wrote,  and  was 
martyred,  have  not  lessened  the  malice  of  the 
enemy ;  but  they  have,  alas  !  increased  his  inge- 
nuity. The  deaths  inflicted  are  more  cruel,  the 
pretexts  more  false ;  escape  is  more  hopeless. 
The  first  Christians  were  persecuted  as  Chris- 
tians ;  our  brethren  now  are  called  apostates, 
and  persecuted  in  the  name  of  Christ.  But  the 
enemy  is  the  same.  It  is  the  great  enemy  of 
God  and  man,  the  accuser  of  the  brethren,  who, 
through  the  lips  of  informers  and  Inquisitors,  is 
accusing  our  brethren  now.  It  is  he  who  was  a 
liar  from  the  beginning  who  is  deluding  these 
poor  idolaters  blasphemously  to  adore  the  im- 
ages of  the  saints,  while  they  murderously  destroy 
the  image  of  God  in  His  living  saints.  It  is  he 
who  was  a  murderer  from  the  beginning  who, 
through  the  feeble  hands  of  monks  and  princes, 
is  murdering  our  brethren  now.  Woe,  woe,  not 
to  us,  but  to  them  ;  for  Satan  does  not  cast 
away  his  instruments  when  they  have  served  his 
purpose.  He  has  wages  in  store  for  them,  and 
they  will  be  paid  to  the  last  farthing ;  or  rather, 
they  will  never  be  paid.  The  dreadful  debt  will 
never  be  Hquidated.  Those  fires,  which  need  no 
faggots  to  feed  them,  will  never  be  quenched. 
Weep  not  for  the  martyrs,  for  the  victors,  for 


222  THE   LIBERATION"   OP   HOLLAND. 

the  crowned.  Weep  for  the  Inquisitors,  for  those 
who,  when  death  comes,  have  nothing  but  a 
painted  image,  or  a  poor  priest's  word,  or  an  in- 
dulgence from  the  Pope,  to  fix  their  dying 
eyes  on.  Weep  for  them,  and  pray.  Pray  that, 
while  there  is  yet  time,  they  may  look  to  that 
living  Saviour,  crucified  for  them  and  for  us, 
who,  when  images,  and  priestly  absolutions,  and 
papal  indulgences,  and  kings,  and  popes,  and 
Rome,  and  the  world  itself,  have  crumbled  into 
dust,  is  able  to  raise  the  bodies  of  His  saints 
from  dungeons  and  river  beds,  and  to  gather 
their  ashes  from  the  air,  and  to  fashion  them  like 
unto  His  glorious  body,  strong,  immortal,  incor- 
ruptible, and  free  from  every  trace  of  sorrow, 
and  every  stain  of  sin.  Brethren,  an  ancient 
Inquisitor  became  an  Apostle,  and  chief  of  the 
Apostles.  Stronger  is  He  that  is  in  us,  than  he 
that  is  in  the  world;  stronger  than  the  perse- 
cutor Titelman,  or  the  king  and  armies  of  Spain, 
stronger  than  the  one  great  Enemy  whose  mal- 
ice is  deadly,  not  when  he  persecutes,  but  when 
he  deceives.     Therefore,  let  us  pray." 

Then  followed  the  prayer  ;  and  then  a  silence, 
broken  only  by  the  low  murmur  of  the  brook, 
and  the  soft  noonday  songs  of  birds,  and  the 
sound  of  quiet  Aveeping. 

It  was  announced  that  another  sermon  would 
be  preached  in  Low  Dutch  on  the  following 
Saturday ;  and  afterwards  the  vast  assembly 
quietly  dispersed  through  the  various  avenues  of 


THE   LIBEEATIOK   OF   HOLLAND.  223 

the  wood.  We  waited  till  nearly  the  last,  to 
avoid  the  crowd.  Christina  was  deeply  moved, 
and  could  say  little.  Mai'k  said,  "  It  is  words 
and  prayers  such  as  these,  not  the  Avallets  or 
carbines  of  the  Gueux,  that  must  save  the  coun- 
try." 

There  is  always  something  very  solemn  in 
watching  a  great  congregation  disperse,  in  see- 
ing the  multitude  so  recently  one  body,  animated 
by  one  purpose,  scattered  into  units,  each  with 
his  different  circle  and  aim  ;  in  looking  round  on 
the  empty  space  so  lately  throbbing  with  hmnan 
life.  But  in  the  forest  on  that  midsummer  noon 
it  was  more  solemn  than  usual.  For  every  one 
that  passed  quietly  away,  and  was  lost  to  sight 
among  the  long  vistas  of  the  wood,  was  moving 
under  sentence  of  death,  too  likely  to  be  exe- 
cuted on  many.  There  was,  indeed,  little  proba- 
bility that  that  assembly  would  ever  be  gathered 
entire  on  earth  again.  And  the  strength  of  the 
words  heard  there,  might  have  to  be  proved 
on  many  a  scene  of  torture  and  temptation. 
Through  those  green  paths  how  many  might  be 
issuing  forth  to  the  dungeon,  the  block,  or  the 
stake. 

And  yet  the  leaves  rustled,  and  the  sun  shone, 
the  birds  sang,  and  the  brook  murmured  its 
sweet  music  as  peacefully  as  if  there  had  been 
no  cries  of  anguish,  no  injustice,  no  sin,  no 
graves  on  earth. 

And  our  Mayken,  riding  home  in  the  cool  of 


224  THE    LIBEEATIOK    OF    HOLLAND. 

the  evening  on  her  new  donkey,  prattled  sweetly 
of  the  butterflies  and  flowers,  and  waters,  and 
the  good  minister,  and  the  people  who  looked 
so  kindly  at  her,  as  if  the  whole  solemn  service 
had  been  an  especial  birthday  festival  for  her. 
And  we  could  not  hinder  her  ! 

Is  nature,  then,  like  the  child,  jDrattling  her 
sweet  songs  in  happy  unconsciousness,  through 
all  the  miseries  of  men  ?  Or  is  she  not  rather 
like  the  angels,  who  sing  their  benedicites,  and 
shine,  in  their  festive  garments,  through  all  our 
darkness  and  distracting  noises,  because  the  light 
of  God's  countenance  is  on  them,  and  they  see 
the  meaning  of  things,  and  know  the  end  ? 


TUE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  225 


YII. 

Truyken  was  not  at  all  pleased  at  our  attend- 
ing that  service,  and  the  one  held  on  the  follow- 
ing Saturday  in  Low  Dutch  in  the  same  wood. 

For  some  time  afterwards  she  steadily  attrib- 
uted every  ailment  of  Mayken's  or  ours,  to  "  gen- 
tlefolks playing  the  gipsy  in  the  m- oods  like  beg- 
gars." 

"  We  are  Gueux,  you  know,  Truyken,"  I  said 
once,  gaily ;  "at  least  they  call  us  so,  and  we 
must  not  be  ashamed  of  our  profession." 

"Ah,  poor  lambs,"  sighed  Truyken,  "  you 
little  know  what  you  are  talking  of.  Many  of 
those  who  march  about  so  jauntily  in  their 
gray  doublets,  with  little  dandy  wallets  and 
bowls  engraved  with  silver,  will  tell  a  different 
story,  I  trow,  when  they  have  the  beggary  with- 
out the  wallet,  and  would  be  thankful  to  liave 
the  bowl  filled  with  bones,  instead  of  ornament- 
ing it  with  silver  !  And  as  far  as  I  can  see," 
she  continued,  "  that  is  what  we  are  all  coming 
to.  Then  to  think  of  Mistress  van  Broek,  who 
would  scarcely  put  her  foot  on  the  street,  or  sit 


226  THE    LIBEEATIOK    OF    HOLLAISTD. 

at  an  open  window,  or  speak  to  an  artisan  with- 
out a  scent-bag  at  her  nose,  spending  hours  on 
the  grass  among  the  rabble  of  the  city.  It  may 
all  seem  natural  to  some  people  ;  but  to  me,  who 
have  seen  the  Avorld  standing  on  its  feet  these 
fifty  years,  it  is  hard  to  be  expected  to  think  it 
quite  a  matter  of  course,  that  it  should  stand  on 
its  head  ;  gentlemen  dressing  like  beggars,  gen- 
tlewomen turning  into  the  woods  like  gipsies, 
weavers  turned  into  priests,  fields  into  churches." 

"  What  can  you  expect,  Trnyken,"  said  Do- 
lores, gravely,  "  when  priests  have  turned  into 
executioners  ?" 

"  Of  that  I  can  say  nothing,  Senora  Dolores," 
was  Truyken's  reply.  "  The  monks  and  priests 
for  a  long  time  might  have  been  better  ;  but  we 
are  none  of  us  angels,  and  the  world  has  grown 
beyond  my  comprehension  altogether." 

In  sjMte,  however,  of  Truyken  Ketel  and  the 
Duchess  Margaret,  the  public  preachings  con- 
tinued to  be  held  near  Antwerp  for  many  weeks. 
The  attendance  became  larger  and  larger,  some- 
times amounting  to  twenty  or  thirty  thousand 
j)eople,  and  these,  many  of  them,  the  richest  and 
most  respected  citizens,  with  their  wives. 

We  did  not  enjoy  all  the  services  equally. 
Some  of  the  sermons  contained  bitter  and  ex- 
citing invectives  ;  and  others,  especially  those  in 
Low  Dutch,  were  enlivened  with  broad  jests  on 
the  lives  of  the  monks.  Some  of  the  preachers 
were  not  men  of  education,  being  qualified  only 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  227 

by  a  native  mother-wit,  and  a  sincere  piety  ;  but 
the  greater  number  were  at  least  as  educated  in 
secular  learning  as  the  priests  of  the  old  faith  ; 
and  all  were  learned  in  the  Scriptures,  as  few 
indeed  of  the  priests  had  been. 

In  many  instances  the  ministers  confined  them- 
selves simply  to  unfolding  the  great  truths  of 
the  Bible.  But  controversy  was  as  inevitable 
as  battles  in  marching  through  an  enemy's  coun- 
try. The  simple  proclamation  of  our  Saviour 
as  the  one-sufficient  Sacrifice  for  sin,  the  Priest 
accessible  to  all,  to  whom  alone  all  need  confess, 
and  who  alone  could  forgive,  demolished  the 
whole  laborious  erection  of  altars,  altar-screens, 
and  confessionals.  But  the  preachers  did  not 
limit  themselves  to  stating  the  truth,  and  leav- 
ing falsehood  to  fall  by  its  own  Aveakness.  There 
were  plain  positive  evils  which  they  plainly  de- 
nounced. It  is  true  that  lies  have  no  innate 
strength,  and  will  crumble  ultimately  to  pieces 
by  their  own  incoherency ;  but  crumbling  is  a 
slow  process,  when  the  route  of  an  army  has 
either  to  be  forward  through  those  fortresses  of 
error — or  backward.  The  v.^hole  force  of  aro-u- 
ment,  indignant  denunciation,  prophetical  men- 
aces against  idolatry,  sometimes  even  sarcasm 
and  jest,  were  often  directed  against  the  old 
crumbling  edifice  of  superstition.  As  in  a  popu- 
lar outbreak,  whatever  weapons  were  nearest  at 
hand  were  used,  and  it  was  no  wonder  that  often 
they  should  be  uncouth. 


228  THE    LIBERATION    OP    HOLLAND. 

These  enormous  gatherings  of  men,  armed, 
yet  peaceful,  so  contrary  to  ancient  order,  and 
yet  so  orderly,  perplexed  the  magistrates  of 
Antwerp  greatly.  Tossed  about  between  the 
indignant  menaces  of  the  Governess  and  the 
firm  protests  of  the  peoi)le,  they  were  reduced, 
as  Mark  said,  to  rotating  on  their  own  axis,  and 
doing  nothing.  The  Duchess  sent  furious  re- 
monstrances, and  they  placarded  them  on  the 
town-hall.  The  people  tore  down  the  placards, 
and  they  Avere  not  punished. 

The  only  plan  they  could  devise  was  to  recall 
the  priest  of  a  church  near  the  city,  whom  they 
had  banished  on  account  of  his  Lutheran  tenden- 
cies, in  the  hope  that  the  Lutherans  might  attend 
his  sermons  in  the  church,  in  preference  to  the 
forest  meetings,  and  so  be  divided  from  the  Cal- 
vinists.  This  device  partially  succeeded.  John 
van  Broek,  for  instance,  who  had  never  been 
quite  easy  about  these  irregular  assemblies,  was 
delighted  to  be  able  to  recall  his  Avife  to  a  quiet 
drive  to  an  orderly  church,  where  thev  could  sit 
on  benches  under  a  stone  roof  in  a  respectable 
way. 

Meantime  the  two  thousand  nobles  of  the 
party  of  the  Gueux  were  holding  a  rather  tu- 
multuous assembly  at  St.  Trond,  in  the  bishopric 
of  Liege,  to  prepare  further  petitions  and  pro- 
tests. Exciting  news  came  to  us  from  all  quar- 
ters during  that  eventful  year,  of  field-preachings 
throughout  Flanders  and  Holland,  near  Haarlem, 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  229 

Alkmaar,  and  Amsterdam,  of  thousands  of  Prot- 
estants traveling  distances  of  many  miles  to  be 
present  at  the  sermons,  listening  with  rapt  atten- 
tion for  hours  together,  and  yet  all  dispersing  as 
quietly  as  they  met.  All  kinds  of  places,  mead- 
ows, forest  glades,  suburbs  of  populous  cities, 
quays,  and  sandy  shores — all  hours  of  the  day, 
from  dawn  till  after  the  last  rays  of  the  long 
Summer  days  had  disappeared,  witnessed  those 
gatherings,  yet  no  enemy  ever  accused  them  of 
being  disorderly.  Solemn  they  were,  as  any  con- 
gregation ever  assembled  in  consecrated  w^alls ; 
indeed,  how  should  they  be  otherwise,  when 
they  were  surrounded  by  walls  of  fire,  when 
every  prayer  and  hymn  might  have  to  be  atoned 
for  at  the  stake  ? 

The  Prince  of  Orange  was  not  present  at  the 
noisy  assembly  of  nobles  at  St.  Trend ;  and  to 
him  day  by  day  the  perplexed  citizens  of  Ant- 
werp began  to  look,  as  to  the  only  man  who 
could  mediate  between  the  Government,  the 
magistrates,  and  the  people.  Catholic,  Liitheran, 
and  Calvinist.  Entreaties  were  poured  on  him, 
from  the  Duchess  and  the  city,  to  come  to  Ant- 
werp. At  length  it  was  announced  that  he  was 
coming. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  13th  of  July,  the  day 
on  which  he  entered  the  city. 

The   whole   city   was    absorbed   in   the    one 
thought — that  the  deliverer  was  coming.     All 
the  day  the  people  were  full  of  feverish  expec- 
20 


230  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

tation.  Tens  of  thousands  of  the  citizens  lined 
the  streets  and  roads  for  miles  outside  the  gates, 
to  welcome  him. 

Our  house  lay  in  the  street  near  the  gate. 
Mark  had  gone  out,  with  hundreds  of  the  most 
influential  men  in  the  city,  on  horseback,  to 
meet  the  Prince.  When  he  came  in  sight,  a 
pistol-shot  was  to  be  fired.  We,  of  course, 
could  not  hear  that ;  but  scarcely  a  minute 
afterwards  the  news  was  communicated  to  the 
city  by  the  enthusiastic  shout  of  welcome,  which 
spread  like  lightning  along  the  vast  uninter- 
rupted masses  of  people,  extending  for  several 
miles  between  the  j^lace  of  rencontre  and 
the  city  gates.  Mark  told  us  how  the  people 
thronged  and  pressed  around  him,  like  bewil- 
dered children  round  their  parents,  calling  him 
deliverer,  j^rotector,  father;  but  it  seemed  to 
distress  the  Prince,  and  a  look  of  anxiety  and 
imeasiness  disturbed  his  firm  and  usually  impas- 
sive features.  I  noticed  it  also  as  he  passed  our 
house. 

And.  once,  when  the  wild  cry  (of  late  become 
so  common  among  us)  "  Vivent  les  Gueux !" 
burst  from  the  crowd  as  he  passed,  Mark  heard 
him  say,  "This  idle  cry  must  be  stopped.  I 
cannot  have  it.     They  will  rue  it  one  day." 

At  length  when  it  was  j^erceived  that  the 
Prmce  did  not  like  this  noisy  greeting,  the  mul- 
titude quietly  dis2:)ersed.  The  force  of  that  firm 
will  was  on  them ;  and  because  it  was  under- 


THE    LIBEEATIOIf    OF    HOLLAND.  231 

stood  he  wished  it,  the  city  in  a  few  hours  re- 
sumed its  ordinary  aspect.  The  silent  dispersing 
testified  more  to  his  power  than  the  noisy  wel- 
come. 

Late  in  the  evening,  when  Mark  returned,  he 
looked  weary  and  exhausted ;  but  there  was  a 
cheerfulness  in  his  manner  I  had  not  seen  for 

many  days. 

"  The  JPrince  is  at  work  already,"  he  said, 
"  and  is  setting  every  one  to  do  his  share." 

"  But  why,"  I  asked,  "  did  he  look  so  grave  and 
sad  ?  The  acclamations  of  the  people  scarcely 
seemed  to  move  him." 

"  Do  you  think,"  said  Mark,  "  that  the  man  to 
whose  arm  a  whole  nation  is  clinging,  can  feel 
his  arm  strong  ?  He  is  like  a  brave  seaman 
steering  his  boat  through  the  breakers  to  a 
wreck.  Do  you  think  he  can  return  the  raptur- 
ous shoitts  of  grateful  welcome  with  bows  and 
smiles  ?  •  The  crew  is  not  rescued  yet ;  and  they 
can  only  be  rescued  by  every  one  doing  his 
utmost,  at  the  risk  of  life,  to  the  deliverer  and 
to  all." 

"  But,"  said  Ursel,  "  are  not  people  putting 
too  much  trust  in  one  man,  and  he  a  Lutheran, 
and  scarcely  even  that,  it  is  said  ?" 

"  Sister  LTrsel,"  said  Mark,  "  you  may  read  in 
your  Bible  that  w^hen  God  would  save  a  people, 
He  sends  them  a  man  to  do  it ;  and  that  the  de- 
struction of  any  nation  is  the  not  recognizing  the 
man  whom  God  sends  to  them.     The  God  of 


232  THE    LIBEEATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

Israel  did  not  rescue  Israel  from  Egypt,  or  lead 
them  through  the  wilderness  by  a  synod.  I  be- 
lieve there  is  hope  for  our  country,  because  God 
has  given  us  this  man ;  if  only  we  will  acknowl- 
edge him.  No  ship  was  ever  steered  safely 
through  a  storm  by  a  committee.  The  council, 
whether  of  the  Confederate  nobles,  or  of  the 
Reformed  pastors,  would  debate  us  into  ruin ; 
Williain  of  Orange  will  save  us,  if  God  wills,  and 
we  will  let  him." 

"I  see,"  observed  Ursel,  thoughtfully,  "  'they 
cried  unto  the  Lord  in  their  trouble,  and  He  de- 
livered them  out  of  their  distresses,'  by  sending 
them  Moses,  Joshua,  and  David." 

That  evening,  when  I  vv^ent  for  a  few  minutes 
to  Dolores'  room,  I  found  lier  weeping. 

"  Are  you  wishing  a  William  the  Silent  bad 
been  given  to  Spain,  Dolores  ?"  I  asked. 

"  I  was  only  thinking,"  she  said,  "  what  the 
Avorld  might  become  if  it  would  welcome  its  De- 
liverer, as  Antwerp  has  welcomed  hers  !" 

The  next  few  weeks  were  weeks  of  hard  but 
hopeful  work  to  all  good  men  at  Antwerp. 
The  Prince  made  every  one  feel  that  the  city 
could  only  be  saved  by  every  one  doing  his  best 
to  save  it.  He  seemed,  Mark  said,  to  inspire 
all,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  with  the 
sense  that  each  in  his  place  must  do  his  work, 
or  nothing  would  be  done.  And  he  set  the 
example,  by  working  night  and  day  himself. 
No  one's  rights  and  no  one's  interests  were,  in 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  233 

his  eyes,  too  insignificant  to  be  respected.  He 
met  all  the  guilds  and  companies  of  merchants, 
and  even  the  "rhetorical"  societies.  lie  sum- 
marily punished  disorder  in  the  adherents  of 
any  party  ;  and  he  boldly  risked  the  indignation 
of  all  parties  by  yielding  fully  to  the  demands 
of  none.  Mark  came  home  every  day  more 
enthusiastic  in  his  praise.  Dolores  began  to 
understand  my  husband.  She  said  to  me  one 
day  : 

"  Costanza,  I  always  thought  Mark  would 
not  give  himself  heart  and  soul  to  any  cause, 
because  he  saw  the  defects  of  alL  But  I  see  now 
the  loyalty  in  his  heart  was  only  waiting  for  its 
true  sun  to  wake  up." 

Thus,  not  the  least  of  the  blessings  the  Prince 
of  Orange  brought  to  me,  was  that  Dolores  and 
I  understood  each  other  about  Mark.  Even 
the  cautious  John  van  Broek  was  brought  to 
act  cordially  with  the  Reformed ;  and  Ursel 
and  he  were  seen  exchanging  friendly  and  confi- 
dential communications.  Truyken,  meantime, 
followed  her  usual  plan,  when  incontestable  vir- 
tues were  discovered  in  heretics,  of  denying 
that  they  were  heretics  at  all. 

The  concessions  made  to  the  Protestants  were 
small  indeed.  Yet  for  the  time  they  satisfied, 
all.  No  church  or  place  of  assembly  was  con- 
ceded to  Lutherans  or  Calvinists,  within  the 
walls,  but  public  worship  was  permitted  us  in 
the  suburbs,  and  the  persecution  was  arrested. 
20* 


234  THE   LIBEKATION    OF    UOLLAOT). 

Meantime,  while  William  of  Orange  was  quietly 
working  to  restore  order  at  Antwerp,  the  two 
thousand  confederate  nobles  were  drinking,  fight- 
ing, and  drawing  up  remonstrances  at  St.  Trond. 

Yet,  at  that  time,  the  whole  nation,  nobles, 
burghers,  and  the  Duchess,  seemed  to  place 
their  chief  reliance  on  the  Taciturn  Prince. 
The  King  and  the  Governess  wrote  him  fervent 
letters  of  thanks.  Antwerp  idolized  him.  The 
nobles  told  the  Duchess  all  would  be  well  if  his 
counsels  were  followed.  But  if  we  wondered 
sometimes  then  at  the  coolness  with  which  he 
received  all  this  poiDularity,  expressions  of  royal 
favour,  popular  applause,  confidence  of  the  no- 
bles— we  wondered  more  as  events  unfolded 
themselves,  at  the  insight  which  seemed  from 
the  beginning  to  have  shown  him  the  hollowness 
of  all  this  ;  and  more  still  at  the  «elf-devoted 
patriotism  and  faith  Avhich  made  him  risk  life 
and  honours  for  men  so  little  worthy  of  him. 

For,  as  we  learned  afterwards,  and  as  he 
knew  then,  at  this  very  time  King  Philip  and 
the  Duchess  were  steadily  devising  his  ruin.  In 
less  than  two  years  the  confederacy  of  nobles 
had  scattered  right  and  left ;  in  less  than  a  year 
the  citizens  of  Antwerp,  enraged  at  his  oppos- 
ing their  will  in  a  course  which  would  have 
been  their  destruction,  presented  pistols  at  his 
breast. 

What  marvel  that  one  who  saw,  by  some 
mysterious  means,  the   secret  papers  of  King 


THE    LIBERATION    OP    HOLLAND.  235 

Philip,  and  saw,  moreover,  into  the  secret  heart 
of  the  hollow  world  around  him,  was  wrinkled 
and  worn  with  care  at  thirty !  The  wonder 
was,  that  seeing  what  he  saw,  he  did  not  be- 
come a  misanthrope,  but  yet  felt  his  country 
worth  living  and  dying  for.  Surely  he  must 
have  learned  that  lesson  from  Him  who  knew 
what  is  in  man,  and  yet  laid  down  His  life  for 
man. 


236  THE   LIBERATION    OF   HOLLAND. 


YIII. 

William  the  Silent  was  wanted  everywhere ; 
at  Antwerp  ;  in  his  own  government  of  Holland 
and  Zealand ;  at  Brussels,  where  the  Duchess 
Margaret  demanded  his  presence,  to  defend  her 
against  the  confederate  nobles.  At  lenffth, 
sorely  against  his  own  judgment,  he  was  con- 
strained to  leave  the  city  before  the  15th  of 
August,  the  Great  Festival  of  the  Assumption 
of  the  Virgin,  on  which  an  outbreak  was  much 
dreaded.  The  calm  of  his  presence  seemed, 
however,  still  to  rest  on  the  city,  and  during 
that  day  no  act  of  violence  was  committed. 

The  numbers  of  the  Protestants  in  Antwerp 
far  exceeded  those  of  the  adherents  of  the  old 
religion.  Unhappily  for  us,  the  newly-revived 
truth  won  to  its  banner  not  only  the  lovers  of 
what  was  true,  but  the  partisans  of  what  was 
new.  The  turbulent  and  destructive  elements 
of  the  turbulent  old  city  were  for  the  time  on 
the  side  of  the  Gospel.  The  Viscount  Brede- 
rode  had  paid  Antwerp  a  visit  before  the  sojourn 
of  the  Prince  amongst  us  ;  and  the  jovial  baron 
had  his  converts,  pi'oselytised  at  his  "  beggar  "  • 


THE    LIBEEATIOX    OF    HOLLAND.  237 

banquets,  and  ready  for  any  wild  -words  and 
deeds. 

The  festival  of  the  Assumption  was  one  calcu- 
lated to  excite  all  the  contemptuous  irreverence 
of  the  Gueux,  as  much  as  it  awakened  the  grave 
indignation  of  the  Reformed. 

On  that  day,  from  time  immemorial,  had  taken 
place  the  great  procession  of  the  Ommegang. 
The  colossal  image  of  the  Virgin  was  brought 
out  from  the  cathedral,  dressed  in  its  costliest 
robes,  to  make  the  circuit  of  the  city.  On  the 
15th  of  June,  1566,  the  procession  was  as  gor- 
geous and  noisy  as  ever.  Long  before  it  passed 
our  house,  we  heard  the  sovmd  of  trumpets  and 
drums  heralding  the  approach  of  the  "  Queen 
of  Heaven." 

We  thought  of  the  approach  of  William  the 
Silent,  only  a  few  weeks  before  !  No  drums 
and  trumpets  had  been  needed  to  j)roclaim  his 
coming.  That  one  long  shout  of  welcome  had 
rung  all  the  Avay  from  Berghem,  where  the 
magistrates  met  him,  to  us  ;  but  on  this  festival 
the  music  seemed  all  instrumental.  Except  a 
few  who  knelt  at  their  doors  as  the  image  passed, 
the  people  received  the  procession  with  gloomy 
silence,  with  murmured  execrations,  or  with  bit- 
ter sarcasms.    . 

And  no  wonder  ;  this  thing,  this  wooden,  help- 
less, bedizened  thing,  if  to  the  Papists  it  repre- 
sented Mary,  the  spotless  Mother,  to  us  repre- 
sented the   Inquisition  and  the    stake.     Those 


238  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

fraternities  of  monks  who  accompanied  it  had 
led  Fabricius  to  the  flames  in  the  great  market- 
place only  three  years  before,  and  menaced  every 
one  of  us,  his  fellow-believers,  with  the  same 
fate  now.  Those  bands  of  military  had  guarded 
the  martyr,  and  hindered  his  rescue.  The  citi- 
zens who  marched  in  the  procession,  with  their 
banners  of  their  various  guilds,  looked,  I  thought, 
ashamed  of  their  oftice. 

After  the  procession  followed  a  rabble  of 
noisy  boys  and  idlers,  shouting  from  time  to 
time  the  cry  of  the  Gueux,  or  derisively  calling 
on  the  image. 

Truyken  persisted  in  planting  herself  at  the 
door  of  our  house  as  the  procession  passed,  and 
reverently  knelt  and  crossed  herself  Unfortu- 
nately, however,  for  her  tranquillity,  just  at  that 
moment  some  of  those  boys,  who  do  so  mnch 
of  the  noise  and  mischief  of  the  world,  shouted 
to  the  imasre  in  their  shrill  voices  : 

"  Mayken !  May  ken  !  your  hour  is  come.  It 
is  your  last  promenade.  The  city  is  tired  of 
you." 

And  at  the  same  time  some  of  the  urchins 
threw  stones  and  mud  at  the  image,  part  of 
which  alighted  on  Truyken's  spotless  kerchief. 
Her  dearest  feelings,  secula\-  and  ecclesiastical, 
were  outraged  ;  and  it  was  well  for  us  that  a  riot 
did  not  commence  at  our  door.  For  Truyken, 
always  prompt  in  her  measures,  and  not  reliant 
on  legal  processes,  seized  one  of  the  miscreants 


THE   LIBEEATION   OF    HOLLAND.  239 

by  the  hair,  and  sent  him  howling  after  his 
comrades  "with  a  box  on  his  ear,  which  for  the 
time  gave  him  an  impressive  lesson  in  religious 
tolerance.  , 

The  image,  however,  was  landed  safely  again 
in  the  cathedral,  and  we  slept  that  night  in  peace. 

But  the  quieting  effect  of  the  Prince's  pres- 
ence had  unhappily  been  nearly  effaced  by  this 
more  recent  imj^ression.  The  ordinary  work- 
ing habits  of  the  people  had  been  interrupted 
by  that  fatal  holiday.  The  desire  of  excitement 
had  been  stirred  up.  Every  one  was  expecting 
some  outbreak.  Uneasy  groups  met  here  and 
there,  just  to  discuss  what  might  happen,  and 
what  should  be  done.  The  habits  of  busy,  in- 
dustrious life  were  broken  ;  the  habit  of  disor- 
derly concourse  was  formed.  On  the  morning 
of  the  16th,  a  great  crowd  had  assembled  out- 
side the  catliedral,  the  most  part,  Mark  said,  as 
usual,  "  not  knowing  wherefore  they  were  come 
together." 

No  one  had  any  definite  purpose,  but  all  had 
vague  apprehensions.  And  the  helpless  image 
still  stood  in  its  holiday  clothes  inside  the  cathe- 
dral. But,  with  that  fatal  readiness  to  concede 
and  resist  precisely  in  the  wrong  places,  which, 
Mark  says,  besets  weak  governments,  the  magis- 
trates, who  had  suffered  all  the  irritating  cere- 
monies of  the  previous  day  to  be  carried  out  to 
the  full,  had  now  removed  the  image  from  its 
usual  jDlace  during  the  Octave  of  the  festival,  in 


240  THE   LIBERATION   OF   HOLLAND. 

the  centre  of  the  nave,  to  what  they  deemed  a 
safer  retreat,  behind  the  iron  screen  of  the  choir. 
Many  idle  apprentices,  ragged  urchins,  and 
genuine  beggars  and  vagabonds,  who  had  an 
incontestable  right  to  the  popular  name  of 
"  Gueux,"  soon  began  to  gather  outside  the 
choir,  and  peep  through  the  wire-work  of  the 
screen  at  the  image,  jesting  at  its  dethronement 
from  its  place  of  pride. 

"  Mayken,  Mayken,"  one  and  another  cried, 
"  art  thou  terrified  so  soon  ?  Hast  thou  flown 
to  thy  nest  so  early  ?  Dost  thou  think  thyself 
beyond  the  reach  of  mischief?  Have  a  care, 
Mayken,  thine  hour  is  coming  fast." 

Others  called  on  the  defenseless  thing  to 
join  in  the  beggar's  cry,  and  made  the  arches 
of  the  church  ring  with  the  shoiat,  "  Vivent  les 
Gueux  !" 

The  barrier  had  been  passed,  the  sacred  still- 
ness which  had  filled  the  beautiful  old  church 
for  centuries  was  broken.  Walls  which,  since 
they  first  were  made,  ages  before  the  childhood 
of  the  oldest  there,  had  echoed  only  with  solemn 
chant  and  murmured  prayer,  resounded  with 
wild  jests  and  party  cries.  A  band  of  idle 
boys  and  youths  sauntered  through  the  church, 
scoffing  at  image,  crucifix,  and  all  the  pomp  of 
the  old  ritual. 

Yet  not  a  hand  was  raised  that  day  against 
the  decorations.  Noisy  as  that  mocking  band 
were,  it  was   said   that   at   no   time   did  they 


TllJi    LIBEKATIOX    OF    HOLLAND.  241 

amount  to  a  hundred.  Fifty  resolute  men  might 
have  checked  the  tumult  at  the  beginning. 
Even  when  a  rude  mechanic,  in  a  tattered  black 
doublet  and  old  straw  hat,  daringly  mounted 
the  pulpit,  and  began  to  preach  a  rude  parody 
of  a  monkish  sermon,  although  some  of  the 
bystanders  laughed  and  applauded,  more  cried, 
"  shame,"  and  many  threw  their  sticks  at  him, 
and  tried  to  drag  him  from  the  place.  A  young, 
impetuous  seaman,  fervent  for  the  old  faith,  even 
ascended  the  pulpit  from  behind,  and  grappled 
with  the  profane  preacher,  until  both  fell,  roll- 
ing together  down  the  steps.  A  pistol-shot, 
however,  wounded  the  sailor's  arm,  which  showed 
that  elements  of  a  more  dangerous  kind  of 
excitement  were  not  far  oif.  Yet  the  church 
was  cleared,  and  the  church  doors  were  safely 
closed  on  the  mob  that  night.  Once  more,  and 
for  the  last  time,  while  the  tumultuous  tide  of 
human  life  flowed  noisily  around,  the  shadows 
of  evening  fell  quietly  within  the  silent  church, 
peopled  only  with  sculptured  forms  of  saint  and 
martyr,  the  recumbent  effigies  of  the  noble  and 
royal  dead,  and  their  bones  crumbling  beneath. 
There  had  been  no  priests  that  day,  indeed,  to 
celebrate  masses  there,  and  there  were  none  that 
evening  to  light  the  lamps  before  shrine  or  host. 
But  otherwise  all  was  the  same  as  it  had  been 
for  centuries.  The  echoes  of  that  day's  tumult 
had  left  no  vibrations  on  the  chill  and  tranquil 
air.  But  outside  all  was  din,  tumult,  and  uncer- 
21 


242  THE   LIBERATION    OF    nOLLAND. 

taiiity.  The  people  hovered  about  the  streets 
until  a  late  hour,  and  Truyken  returned  from  a 
visit  to  a  friend,  burning  with  indignation. 

"  The  Calvinists,"  she  said,  "  had  sacked  the 
churches  of  St.  Omer  and  Ypres,  broken  and 
mocked  the  saints,  and  even  the  sacred  image 
of  Our  Lady  herself." 

Such  rumours  were  circulating  throughout 
the  city  that  evening,  and  they  gave  a  definite 
direction  to  the  acritation  on  the  morrow\ 

CD 

Mark  came  home,  looking  worn  and  distressed. 
He  said  that,  after  endless  discussions,  the  magis- 
trates had  decided  that,  as  every  proposed 
course  of  action  was  liable  to  objections,  it  was 
safer  to  do  nothing.  He  had  offered,  with  a 
hundred  orderly  artisans  under  his  command, 
armed  with  stout  bludgeons,  to  keep  the  cathe- 
dral. But  one  influential  man  intimated  that 
the  safety  of  the  city  could  not  be  securely 
trusted  to  any  but  an  unsuspected  Catholic, 
whilst  another  suggested  that  if  the  Lutherans 
were  supplied  with  arms,  the  Calvinists  would 
demand  the  same  privilege.  And  so  it  ended 
in  the  worthy  magistrates  sighing  for  the  Prince 
of  Orange,  issuing  neither  order  nor  proclama- 
tion, and  retiring  each  to  his  house. 

The  next  morning  Truyken  and  I  went  early 
to  market,  fearing  that  the  day  might  be  one  of 
tumult,  and  wishing  to  reach  the  shelter  of 
home  before  the  streets  were  crowded.  On  our 
return   we   stepped    aside  into   the   cathedral. 


THE    LIBEEATIOJT    OF    HOLLAND.  243 

Truyken  crossed  herself  with  holy  water,  left 
her  basket  at  the  door,  under  my  charge,  and 
went  forward  to  the  choir,  Avhere  she  knelt  on 
the  stone  steps,  outside  the  iron  sci'een,  before 
the  derided  image  of  the  Virgin.  To  her  it 
was  the  symbol  of  a  faith  to  which  her  loyal 
heart  clung  with  all  the  more  tenacity  because 
of  the  insults  recently  heaped  on  it.  To  the 
Protestants  of  Antwerp  it  was  the  symbol,  not 
of  a  morbid  sentimental  idolatry  merely,  but  of 
a  cruel  and  murderous  superstition,  whose  forms 
were  these  childish  mummeries,  but  whose  essen- 
tial acts  of  worshij)  were  human  sacrifices.  To 
our  belief  the  cathedral  had  not  first  been  pro- 
faned yesterday  by  a  disorderly  mob  ;  but  every 
day  for  ages,  by  blasphemous  assumptions  at 
altar  and  confessional,  and  recently  through  the 
utterance  of  the  praises  of  God  by  the  lips 
which  denounced  torments  on  His  children.  To 
me  the  desecration  of  the  temple  was  the  j)res- 
ence  of  that  wooden  image  in  its  midst,  before 
which  Truyken  knelt. 

Yet,  with  this  conviction  deep  in  my  heart, 
the  beauty  of  the  jilace  at  that  quiet  morning 
hour  stole  like  a  charm  over  my  senses.  The 
eye  was  lost  among  the  pillars  of  the  five  lofty 
aisles,  with  the  long,  morning  shadows  crossing 
each  other  on  the  pavement,  as  among  the  trees 
of  the  forest  of  Berghem.  Yet  there  was 
scarcely  a  foot  of  the  vast  space  unenriched  by 
elaborate  sculptures.     The  walls  were  crowded 


244  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

with  shrines  ;  every  recess  was  a   chapel,  the 
especial  pride  of  some  noble  flimily  or  city  guild ; 
banners,  glorious   with  the  rents  of  war,   and 
blazoned  with  the  arms  of  the  Golden  Fleece, 
of  dukes  and  kings,  hung  in  heavy  folds  from 
the  roof;    and  the   golden   morning  sunbeams 
shone  through  windows  brilliant  with  the  richest 
colours,  and  chequered  the  pavement  with  count- 
less tints.     Here  and  there  the  light  fell  on  the 
sculptured  brows  of  kneeling  saints,  or  brought 
out  in  vivid  outline  some  wreath  of  perfect  foli- 
age ;   while    in   the    choir   stood   the    crowning 
glory  of  the  cathedral,  the  repository  of  the 
host,  rising  from  a  single  massive  column,  arch 
above  arch,  to  the  height  of  eight  hundred  feet. 
And  all  this  was  no  sudden  arbitrary  mechani- 
cal work.     This   cathedral  had   grown   slowly 
through    the    centuries,   lilie   a  forest.     Every 
jeweled  shrine,  and  gold  or  silver  vessel,  and 
richly-sculptured  chapel,  was  the  record  of  human 
conflicts,  joys,   and  sorrows,  the  memorial  of 
human  gratitude,  or  mortality.     The  affections 
and  prayers  of  ages  seemed  to  hang  about  the 
building,  as  the  fragrance  of  the  incense  which 
still  pervaded  it. 

Only  one  living  worshipper  was  there  at  that 
early  hour,  and  that  was  honest  Truyken  Ketel, 
murmuring  her  prayers  on  the  steps  of  the  choir. 
Just  as  Truyken  was  finishing  her  devotions, 
and  we  were  about  to  leave,  an  old  woman,  of 
rather  severe  aspect,  entered  the  great  door  of 


THE    LIBEEATIOX    OF    HOLLAND.  245 

the  cathedral,  with  a  basket  full  of  wax  tapers, 
and  various  ecclesiastical  trinkets,  and  began 
unfolding  her  wares  on  the  steps  of  the  choir, 
where  she  seated  herself  in  the  midst  of  an 
array  of  crucifixes,  Agnus  Deis,  medals,  beads, 
tapers,  and  little  "books  of  piety,"  adorned 
with  rude  paintings. 

"  These  are  evil  days,"  she  said  to  me  as  she 
entered.  "  People  have  no  respect  for  king,  or 
^pope,  or  saint.  Many  a  jeering  word  the 
wretches  cast  at  me  yesterday.  But  I  gave 
them  as  good  as  they  gave  me.  It  would  be 
strange  indeed  if  I  could  not  stand  my  ground 
against  the  curses  of  a  few  beggarly  boys,  when 
my  wares  have  had  the  benedictions  of  bishops 
and  cardinals." 

Truyken  paused  to  exchange  a  few  words 
with  her,  and  to  buy  a  taper,  which  she  liglited 
and  set  np  before  an  image  of  St.  Ursula.  As 
she  was  doing  tliis,  groups  of  idle  people  began 
to  stroll  in.  They  did  not  panse  to  sprinkle 
themselves  with  the  holy  water,  but  sauntered 
from  one  chapel  to  another,  talking  loud,  ;ind 
laughing  derisively  at  many  of  the  statues  as 
they  went.  Two  or  three  of  them  stopped  be- 
fore the  old  taper-vender's  wares,  and  held  up 
her  tapers  and  beads  with  contemptuous  ges- 
tui'es.  Her  voice  soon  became  as  loud  as  theirs  ; 
others  gathered  around  to  see  the  result  of  the 
affray,  and  when  Truyken  and  I  left  the  cathe- 
dral, the  lofty  arches  were  echoing  Avith  angry 
voices,  mingled  with  rude  laughter. 


246  THE    LIBEPvATIOIsr    OF    nOLLA:NT). 

As  vre  walked  away,  we  met  a  great  number 
of  peoi^le  thronging  towards  the  church  ;  and 
we  had  scarcely  reached  home  when  a  messenger 
came  out  of  breath  with  running  to  siimmon 
Mark  to  consult  with  some  of  the  principal  mer- 
chants for  the  safety  of  the  city.  There  had 
been  a  tumult  in  the  cathedral  of  Our  Lady. 
The  old  taper-vender's  wares  had  been  destroyed. 
The  church  was  full,  but  not  of  worshippers. 
The  sacristan  and  others  had  endeavoured  to  clear, 
it,  but  in  vain.  Mark  left  us,  not  to  go  to  the 
magistrates,  who,  he  said,  would  do  nothing, 
but  to  conduct  one  of  the  Reformed  pastors  to 
the  cathedral  to  still  the  tumult,  if  possible,  by 
addressing  the  people. 

lie  found  the  Calvinistic  preacher,  Herman 
Modet,  who  accompanied  him,  and  boldly  as- 
cending one  of  the  piilpits,  endeavoured  to  per- 
suade the  tumultuous  crowd  to  abstain  from 
excesses.  But  they  would  not  listen.  The  mob 
in  the  cathedral  was  composed  of  entirely  dif- 
ferent men  from  those  who  came  at  the  risk  of 
life  to  attend  the  public  preachings,  and  after 
listenincc  for  hours  in  devout  attention  to  the 
Word  of  God,  dispersed  peaceably  to  their 
homes.  The  Reformed  preachers  had  as  little 
influence  over  them  as  the  Catholic  priests. 
They  dragged  Modet  from  the  i:)ulpit,  and  pro- 
ceeded as  before,  with  their  wild  Gueux  cries. 

At  length  the  Margrave  of  Antwerp,  with  the 
two  burgomasters  and  the  senators  themselves 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  247 

appeared  at  the  door  of  the  cathedral,  hoping  to 
cahn  and  disperse  the  people  by  their  presence 
and  entreaties.  Many,  indeed,  were  persuaded 
to  depart,  and  those  who  remained  were  for  the 
time  quieted.  Throughout  the  day  no  damage 
was  done ;  and  as  evening  drew  on,  the  magis- 
trates made  one  more  effort  to  persuade  the  mob 
to  disperse  quietly.  Many  more  left  at  their  so- 
licitations— probably  all  the  better  disposed  ;  for 
the  remaining  crowd  grew  bolder  as  their  num- 
bers decreased,  and  refused  to  depart  without 
hearing  the  Salve  Regina. 

No  priests  were  found  to  chant  vespers  to 
such  an  audience,  and,  accordingly,  some  of  the 
mob  said  they  would  chant  the  service  them- 
selves. A  verse  of  St.  Aldegonde's  translation 
of  one  of  Clement  Marot's  psalms  rose  from  harsh 
voices  here  and  there.  But  the  sacred  words 
were  sung  with  no  sacred  feeling.  Cries  and 
yells  mingled  with  the  hymns,  and  stones  began 
to  fly  at  the  various  images.  At  this  point  it 
occurred  to  the  magistrates  that  it  would  be 
prudent  to  retire.  They  suggested  to  each  other 
that  if  they  departed,  perhaps  the  mob  would 
follow  them.  It  was  remarkable  that  this  idea 
did  not  occur  to  them  until  the  missiles  actually 
began  to  be  thrown.  But  they  carried  it  out 
conscientiously.  Unfortunately,  the  mob  were 
undutiful  enough  not  to  follow  their  example. 
Anxious  to  preserve  the  forms  of  order,  whatever 
became  of  the  reality,  the  senators  prudently 


248  THE    LIBEEATIO?^^    OF    HOLLATO). 

ordered  the  cliurch  doors  to  he  closed,  cour- 
teously, however,  leaving  one  little  door  open, 
that  the  peojjle  still  left  within  might  retire.  It 
did  not  occur  to  them,  no  doubt,  that  a  door  is 
a  way  in  as  well  as  out.  The  Margrave  alone 
courageously  remained.  But  the  little  open  gate 
was  too  strong  a  temptation  to  the  ragged  and 
riotous  mob  outside,  and  the  good  senators  had 
scarcely  disappeared  when  a  tumultuous  croAvd 
pressed  into  the  church,  broke  open  the  other 
doors  from  within,  expelled  the  Margrave,  and 
remained  in  undisputed  possession  of  the  cathe- 
dral. Once  more  the  patient  fathers  of  the 
commouAvealth  returned  to  remonstrate  with 
their  disorderly  children,  but  their  gentle  voices 
could  no  longer  be  heard  above  the  din  ;  and 
wishing  at  least  to  save  the  pillars  of  the  State, 
they  fled  hastily  to  their  own  homes. 

We  had  all  collected  in  the  house  of  John 
van  Broek,  by  the  instinct  which  draws  fami- 
lies together  in  dangerous  times.  None  of  us 
went  to  bed  that  night.  Throughout  the  lone, 
dark  hours,  men  kept  passing  with  lanterns, 
ladders,  pulleys,  and  ropes ;  and  now  and  then 
a  fearful  yell  burst  on  our  ears,  through  the 
broken  windows  of  the  cathedral.  Mark  Avent 
out  from  time  to  time  to  bring  us  tidings  ;  but 
no  human  arm  could  now  stem  the  torrent.  All 
through  that  disastrous*  night  the  work  of  de- 
struction went  on.  They  began  with  dragging 
down  the  colossal  image  of  Mary,  and  breaking 


THE    LIBEEATION    OF    HOLLAND.  249 

it  into  a  thousand  pieces.  From  this  they  pro- 
ceeded with  a  destructiveness  as  ruthless  and 
systematic  as  tliat  of  the  Inquisitors  themselves. 
Only,  their  war  was  not  with  flesh  and  blood, 
but  with  wood  and  stone.  Every  shrine  was 
demolished.  Every  image  on  the  highest  min- 
aret, or  in  the  most  secluded  niche,  was  torn 
down.  The  great  Repository  itself  was  shat- 
tered to  atoms  with  axes  and  hammers,  amid 
shouts  of  derision.  No  women  were  present, 
save  those  of  the  lowest  character,  who  urged 
the  men  and  boys  on  by  jests  and  cries.  The 
priestly  vestments  were  torn  from  the  chests, 
the  sacred  vessels  from  the  altars,  whilst  the 
reckless  mob  drank  destruction  to  the  Inquisi- 
tion in  chalice  and  paten  with  the  church  wine, 
and  danced  wild  dances  arrayed  in  the  em- 
broidered robes  of  the  ecclesiastics. 

The  morning  light  broke  on  a  very  different 
scene  from  that  which  Truyken  and  I  had  wit- 
nessed on  the  previous  day.  The  interior  of 
the  stately  old  church  was  one  heap  of  shapeless 
ruins.  Yet,  strange  to  say,  not  a  human  being 
was  injured,  not  even  the  provoking  old  taper- 
vender,  and  not  a  trinket  was  stolen. 

Mayken  found  Truyken  that  morning,  on  her 
return  from  market,  weeping  bitterly. 

"  What  are  you  crying  for,  dear  Truyken  ?" 
she  said,  throwing  her  arms  around  her  neck. 

"  The  saints,  the  saints,  they  are  all  torn  to 
pieces,"  sobbed  Truyken. 


250  THE    LIBEEATION    OP    H0LLA:N^D. 

"  The  saints  in  heaven  ?"  asked  Mayken,  be- 
wildered. 

"  No,  no,  child.  Thank  God  !  the  mob  can- 
not get  there." 

"Who,  then?"  persisted  the  child,  "the 
good  people  here  on  earth  ?" 

"  No.  The  saints,  the  holy  images,  in  the 
cathedral." 

"  The  stone  saints  ?"  asked  Mayken.  "  I  am 
very  sorry.  But  you  know  they  cannot  feel ; 
can  they,  Truyken  ?" 

"  It  is  not  that,  child.  You  cannot  under- 
stand. They  are  sacred  to  God,  and  the  blessed 
Virgin ;  and  it  is  sacrilege,  and  the  Almighty 
will  be  very  angiy." 

"  But,"  said  Mayken,  "  if  they  are  God's,  I 
think  you  need  not  mind  so  much  ;  because 
mother  told  me  every  thing  belongs  to  Him,  and 
I  think  He  can  so  easily  have  more  made." 

But  Truyken  was  not  to  be  comforted. 

"  The  font,"  she  said,  "  at  which  the  master's 
mother  was  christened,  the  altar  at  which  she 
was  married  ;  the  shrine  at  which  my  mother 
offered  every  week  ;  the  image  of  our  blessed 
Lady  herself,  all  a  heap  of  dishonoured  ruins  ! 
That  I  should  live  to  see  it !" 

Two  days  and  two  nights  longer  the  storm 
raged.  Every  Madonna  at  the  corners  of  the 
streets,  every  crucifix  and  saintly  image  was 
demolished.  All  the  churches  were  devastated. 
Then  from  the  city  the  mob  proceeded  to  the 
neighbourhood. 


THE   LIBEKATIOX    OF    HOLLAND.  251 

Two  whole  days  and  nights,  and  nothing  was 
done  to  stem  the  torrent !  Catholics  and  Prot- 
estants  alike  seemed  seized  with  a  panic,  and 
the  only  thought  of  every  one  seemed  to  be  to 
provide  for  the  safety  of  his  own  hearth.  Nuns 
fled  from  their  convents  to  the  houses  of  their 
friends ;  monks  were  unceremoniously  turned 
out  of  their  monasteries. 

Only  two  Summer  days  and  nights  !  And  in 
that  brief  time  every  church  in  the  city  and  the 
suburbs  was  sacked,  and  every  shrine  and  image 
demolished !  By  not  more  than  one  hundred 
reckless  men  and  boys  ! 

Yet  duriner  all  that  storm  of  wild  excitement, 
reckless  destruction,  and  hopeless  panic,  not  one 
man,  woman,  or  child  was  attacked  or  injured  ; 
not  one  of  the  desolated  churches  was  pulled 
down, '  or  set  on  fire.  Not  one  instance  was 
proved  of  appropriation  of  the  plunder. 

The  war  was  neither  against  men  nor  churches, 
but  against  images,  idols  in  whose  name  God's 
living  saints  had  been  tortured  and  slain  by 
thousands. 

In  one  case  the  rioters  hanged  one  of  their 
number  who  had  basely  attempted  to  appropriate 
one  article  of  value.  When  the  tempest  had 
done  its  work,  gold  and  silver,  costly  vestments, 
precious  stones,  were  found  scattered  contemptu- 
ously among  the  fragments  of  the  shrines,  and 
the  ecclesiastics  quietly  resumed  possession  of 
their  treasures. 


252  TIIK    LIBEEATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

The  injury  done  by  these  tumults  to  the  cause 
of  Protestantism  was  incalculable.  The  mass 
of  the  Reformed  and  Lutherans  disapproved  of 
the  whole  proceeding  as  much  as  the  Catholics, 
although  on  different  grounds.  The  pastors 
vainly  endeavoured  to  moderate  the  storm.  But, 
nevertheless,  an  indelible  stain  was  cast  on  ns 
all  by  this  tumult ;  as  on  the  Anabaptists  in 
general  by  the  excesses  of  the  few  fanatics  at 
Munster.  Lukewarm  Catholics  wex-e  roused 
into  fervour  by  these  outrages  ;  waverers  were 
recalled ;  men  and  women  of  a  reverent  and 
devout  temper  were  repelled  from  lis.  The 
educated  and  refined  drew  up  their  robes  from 
contact  with  people  whose  associates  had  burnt 
libraries,  and  barbarously  destroyed  the  most 
precious  works  of  art ;  timid  Protestants  were 
frightened  back  into  the  bosom  of  the  old 
church  ;  many  of  the  nobles  indignantly  deserted 
ns,  and  endeavoured  to  prove  their  suspected 
orthodoxy  by  persecution. 

The  Duchess  J\[argaret  was  enraged,  and 
began  to  levy  troops  in  earnest.  Faint  friends 
found  an  excuse  .for  abandoning  us.  Our  ene- 
mies  had  found  a  pretext  for  condemning  us  not 
only  as  heretics  but  as  rioters. 

The  seven  days  and  nights  of  August,  during 
which  the  fanatical  outbreak  lasted,  were  a 
prelude  to  years  of  war  and  misery. 

And  yet  the  whole  wild  insurrection  was  not 
disgraced  by  one  act  of  cruelty,  or  murder,  or 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  253 

theft.  One  hour  of  Alva's  blood-council  shed 
more  innocent  blood  than  the  seven  days'  mis- 
rule of  all  those  excited  fanatics. 

One  sacking  of  a  city  by  Alva's  troops  de- 
stroyed more  trembling,  entreating,  tortured, 
agonized  human  beings,  than  all  the  inanimate 
stone  images  broken  by  the  mob. 

And  at  a  judgment-seat  where  life  is  more 
sacred  than  consecrated  stones,  and  men  and 
women  will  be  worth  more  than  the  statues  of 
any  artist ;  no  doubt  the  terrible  account  wiU 
be  justly  balanced. 


22 


'254:  TUE   LIBERATION   OF   HOLLAND. 


IX. 

iv  imll. 

AT  first,  however,  many  thought  these  tumults 
had  wrought   deliverance   for   the   Protes- 
tants.    The  Duchess  Margaret  was  terrified  as 
an    emperor's   daughter   should    scarcely   have 
appeared  to  be,  and  was  with  great  difliculty 
persuaded  to  remain  at  her  palace  at  Brussels, 
instead  of  flying  before  the  menaced  assault  of 
the  image-breakers.     Count  Egmont  and  Count 
Horn  promised  to  defend  her  with  their  lives, 
and  saved  her  from  the  disgrace  of  abandoning 
her  post ;  for  which  service  she  repaid  them  by 
sending  calumnies  about  them  to  King  Philij), 
which  brought  them  in  less  than  two  years  to 
the  scaffold.    She,  however,  as  well  as  the  nation, 
felt,  with  her  woman's  instinctive  insight,  that 
there  was  one  arm  in  the  country  strong  enough 
to  lean  on  with  confidence  ;  and  the  support  of 
that  valiant  arm  she  claimed.     The  Prince  of 
Orange  came  to  her  rescue,  and  toiled  conscien- 
tiously to  pacify  the  nation.     With  his  city  of 
Antwerp,    and   his   provinces   of  Holland   and 
Zealand,  he  in  great  measure  succeeded.     Three 
churches  were  assigned  to  the  Protestants  in 
Antwerp  and  the  other  great  cities.    The  con- 


THE    LIBKKATIOX    OF    HOLLAND.  255 

cession  was  immense.  Liberty  of  public  wor- 
ship to  those  who  had  before  been  denied,  as  far 
as  possible,  liberty  of  secret  belief. 

This  was  the  accord  of  the  25tli  of  August. 
Little  more  than  two  months  after  that  sermon 
in  the  wood  of  the  Lord  of  Berchem,  which  we 
attended  at  risk  of  life,  Mark,  Dolores,  Mayken, 
and  I,  with  John  van  Broek  and  Christina,  were 
peacefully  sitting  in  a  church  at  Antwerp,  with 
every  image,  and  every  trace  of  ruin  removed 
from  it,  listening  to  an  orderly  sermon  from  a 
Lutheran  pastor. 

But  I  am  not  sure  that  we  enjoyed  the  sermon 
so  much.  There  was  leisure  now  to  comment 
on  the  superiority  of  Augsburg  to  Geneva ; 
there  was  leisure  to  comment  on  every  thing  in 
an  orderly  unabbreviated  manner  under  a  great 
many  well-arranged  heads.  But  the  words  had 
scarcely  the  same  burning  concentrated  force. 
And  I  remember  Dolores  saying,  on  our  way 
home : 

"  I  wonder,  if  the  Netherlands  becomes  a 
recognized  Protestant  country,  with  Protest-ant 
universities  and  synods,  whether  the  ministers 
regularly  educated  at  the  orthodox  universities 
will  preach  as  those  we  have  heard,  Avho  have 
graduated  in  the  school  of  bitter  experience  and 
perilous  conflict." 

But  Mark  smiled,  and  replied  : 

"  We  need  not  fear.  While  God  has  soldiers 
to  train,  He  will  not  let  wars  cease." 


256  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

Mark  had  many  happy  weeks  that  year  and 

the  following.     The  Prince  of  Orange,  Burgrave 

of  Antwerp,  came  often  to  the  city,  and  Mark 

toiled  to  carry  out  liis  intentions,  the  Prince  had 

no  idea  how  hard.     Nor  did  Mark  care  that  he 

should  know  ;  nor  I.     The  great  disinterested 

passion  of  loyalty  had  subdued  his  heart — loyalty 

based  on  patriotism,  and  insjiired  by  religion. 

He  believed  that  the  Prince  was  the  only  man 

who  could  save  the  country,  and  he  believed 

God  had  given  him  to  the  country  to  save  it. 

He  trusted  the  Prince  entirely,  and  thought  it 

the  noblest  and  most  effective  use  of  his  every 

faculty   to   carry  out   his   designs.     And   as   a 

reward,  the  Prince  trusted  him.     More  he  did 

not  ask.     Nor  could  I  wish  for  more.     But  I 

think  if  Antwerp  had  had  a  hundred  men  like 

Mark,    the    Netherlands,   as   well   as   Holland, 

mischt  have  been  rescued  from  the  barbarous 

tyranny  of  the  Inquisition  and  the  king. 

Most  around  us  were  so  diiferent.  With  the 
right  hand  pursuing  their  own  interests,  and 
with  the  feeble  left  occasionally  giving  a  i:)aren- 
thetical  turn  to  the  cause  of  the  nation ;  or 
when  thoroughly  roused,  each  full  of  his  own 
small  plan  of  rescue,  and  deeming  it  more  dig- 
nified to  head  that  than  to  work  as  a  lowly  sub- 
ordinate in  the  Prince's  ranks. 

Then,  during  this  brief  calm,  the  divisions 
between  the  Reformed  and  Lutherans  waxed 
warm,  and  many  of  the  ministers  seemed  to 


THE    LIBEEATIOX    OF    HOLLAND.  257 

deem  it  their  chief  vocation  to  prove  what  an 
immense  chasm  divided  Luther  from  Calvin. 

The  ice  began  to  form  once  more  around 
Christina.  The  linen-closet,  and  the  preserve- 
chamber,  and  all  the  great  household  institutions, 
were  fast  resuming  their  sway  over  her.  The 
world,  in  the  soft  form  and  subdued  voice  of 
ease  and  comfort,  began  again  to  lull  her  heart ; 
as  mammon,  in  the  substantial  form  of  dollars 
and  bales  of  merchandise,  animated  that  of  her 
hiTsband. 

Her  health  began  again  to  render  it  difficult, 
indeed  impossible,  for  her  to  visit  her  sick 
brethren  and  sisters,  and  even  little  Mayken's 
voice  became  often  too  noisy  and  discordant  for 
her  seiisiti\'e  nerves.  If  Mayken  could  only 
have  remained  an  infant,  a  soft  thing,  to  cushion 
on  down  and  array  in  exquisitely-got-up  lace 
and  lawn,  instead  of  becoming  the  small  person, 
with  will  and  thought,  and  distracting  power 
of  uttering  both,  and  asking  perplexing  ques- 
tions !  And  "how  Ursel could  endure  the  rant- 
ing declamation  of  those  French  preachers,  she 
never  could  imagine  !  The  noise  was  enough 
for  her,  without  the  doctrine."  Thus  the  sick 
and  suffering  poor  were  gradually  once  more 
becoming  cares  to  her  instead  of  friends.  Things 
were  again  assuming  a  tyrannous  personality, 
while  persons  were  sinking  to  the  level  of  things. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  fire  began  once  more 
to  kindle  in  Ursel's  very  opposite  nature.     She 
22* 


258  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

began  to  wonder  how  Mark  could  continue  to 
attend  sermons  whose  doctrine  was  a  mere  feebly- 
disguised  Popery,  and  which  made  half  the 
Bible  a  dead  letter.  And  of  our  hero,  the 
Prince  of  Orange,  then  a  Luthei'an,  she  had  the 
gravest  suspicions.  She  should  not  be  surprised 
to  see  him  at  the  feet  of  King  Philip  yet.  Who 
could  say,  indeed,  to  what  absurdities  a  brain 
illogical  enough  to  accept  the  Confession  of 
Augsburg  might  not  be  led  ? 

There  was  one  Reformed  minister,  howeA^ei", 
at  Antwerp  about  this  time  who  penetrated 
deep  enough  into  the  heart  of  Christianity  to 
get  above  these  wretched  controversies  which 
distracted  the  surface  of  the  Pi'otestant  churches. 
And  he  had  courage  enough  to  avow  his  con- 
viction in  a  noble  letter  to  the  Lutherans. 

"  Let  Peter  continue  to  be  Peter,"  wrote  An- 
tony Coranus,  "  and  Martin,  (Luther,)  Martin — 
that  is  to  say,  men  that  are  capable  of  being 
mistaken.  But  let  the  Spirit  of  God  be  received 
by  the  means  of  such  instruments  as  He  shall 
stir  up,  whether  Paul,  or  Zwinglius,  or  ^co- 
lampadius,  or  others  of  less  authority.  As  for 
lis,  we  shall  receive,  honour,  and  hold  such  in 
singular  esteem  as  instruments  of  God ;  but  we 
will  not  maintain  that  they  are  infallible — that 
is  to  say,  that  they  can  neither  commit  sin  nor 
error,  or  that  they  know  and  understand  all 
things ;  but  we  rather  believe  that  the  Lord 
will  raise  up  such  instruments  from  day  to  day, 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  259 

to  increase  the  light  of  His  holy  truth,  if  our 
own  unthankfulness  do  not  hinder  it.  The  afore- 
said persons  lived  at  an  unhappy  time,  and  were 
more  busied  in  removing  the  dung  and  filth  of 
Popery  tlian  in  the  discovery,  observation,  and 
introduction  of  the  pure  truth.  They  were 
chiefly  employed  in  withstanding  the  rage  of 
Antichrist — in  answering  and  refuting^  calum- 
nies  and  reproaches — in  writing  apologies — in 
disputing  with  monks  and  priests  ;  so  that  they 
had  little  opportunity  for  study  and  serious 
meditation  on  the  truths  of  Christian  doctrine 
revealed  in  the  Word  of  God.  This  was  the 
cause  that  their  works  abounded  with  satirical 
and  reviling  expressions,  reproachful  names,  and 
other  improper  arguments,  such  as  did  not  be- 
come the  true  ministers  of  God  and  preachers 
of  the  gospel  of  peace.  ISTevertheless,  we  must 
bear  with  these  infirmities,  with  a  view  to  the 
unhappiness  of  the  times  ;  but  now  that  God 
has  disclosed  to  us  so  many  bright  rays  of  His 
truth,  ought  we  to  have  any  more  regard  to  the 
light  which  proceeded  from  thunder,  and  w^hich 
soon  gave  place  to  a  more  clear  and  constant 
light  ?  When  the  Lord  Jesus  would  give  a 
mark  of  distinction  to  His  disciples,  and  the 
children  of  His  Father,  He  did  not  require  them 
to  follow  the  Confession  of  Augsburg,  nor  the 
Catechism  of  ]\Iartin  (Luther)  or  John  (Calvin  ;) 
but  He  said  to  them,  "By  this  shall  all  men 
know  that  ye  are  my  disciples,  if  ye  have  love 


260  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND, 

one  to  another."  Alas  !  what  blind  and  miser- 
able creatures  are  we  !  who,  by  our  disputing 
about  the  true  and  false  interpretation  of  the 
words  of  the  sacrament  of  union,  break  and  dis- 
solve the  imion  itself;  who,  by  caviUing  and  too 
curious  searching  whether  the  unworthy  receive 
Christ's  body  in  the  sacrament,  as  well  as  the 
children  of  God,  run  the  risk  of  not  receiving 
it  at  all ;  who,  by  inquiring  whether  Christ  is 
carnally  or  spiritually  present  in  the  sacrament, 
deprive  ourselves  of  the  true  commvmion  of 
Christ,  Who  does  not  dwell  in  him  that  hates 
his  brother  ;  who,  by  too  nice  inquiry  whether 
the  body  of  Christ  is  given  us  in,  under,  or  with 
the  bread,  cut  ourselves  off  from  the  true  body 
of  Christ,  and  make  ourselves  members  of  Satan, 
the  father  of  strife,  discord,  and  contention." 

These  noble  words  of  the  pastor  Antony  Co- 
ranus  were  printed  in  French  and  Low  Dutch, 
and,  with  a  little  book,  issued  about  the  same 
time  at  Vianen,  on  the  essential  unity  of  the 
faith  of  the  Lutherans  and  Calvinists,  were  great 
treasures  to  Dolores,  Mark,  and  me.  Not  many 
j)eace-makers  like  these  lifted  up  their  voices  in 
those  days  ;  although  I  believe  many  of  those 
whose  voices  are  not  heard  in  the  noisy  scene 
of  public  life,  but  in  the  home,  and  by  the  sick- 
bed, held  the  same  truths.  That  little  book, 
published  at  Vienna,  called  forth  an  especial 
prohibition  from  the  Duchess  Margaret,  com- 
mandinac  all  into  whose  hands  it  fell  to  burn  it, 


THE   LIBERATION   OF    IIOLLAKD.  261 

on  pain  of  the  severest  punishment.  She  under- 
stood but  too  well  the  maxim  of  Catherine  de 
Medici,  the  old  maxim  of  the  Enemy  from  the 
days  of  Abraham  and  Lot,  "  Divide  et  impera." 
Were  not  the  Pharisees  always  wiser  in  their 
generation  than  the  disciples  ? 

A  petition,  however,  was  framed  towards  the 
end  of  August  (after  the  fury  of  the  image- 
breakers  had  spent  itself,  and  three  of  the  ring- 
leaders had  been  hanged,)  which  was  signed  by 
both  Lutherans  and  Reformed,  entreating  King 
PhiUp  to  grant  the  Protestants  religious  liberty. 
It  was  drawn  up  and  signed  in  the  house  of  a 
wealthy  merchant,  a  countryman  of  ours,  a  Cal- 
vinist,  Mark  Perez.  The  arguments  for  reli- 
gious freedom  were  enforced  by  the  learned 
ministers  not  only  from  the  Gospels,  but  from 
the  example  of  pagan  emperors,  and  were  thought 
very  convincing  by  those  who  used  them.  They 
were  enforced  also  by  an  oifer  to  purchase  this 
boon  by  a  gift  of  thirty  tons  of  gold,  to  be  pre- 
sented to  the  king  by  the  Protestants  on  his  issu- 
ing a  decree  of  toleration.  But  some  thought 
King  Philip  might  be  scandalised  at  being  com- 
pared to  the  heathen  emperors.  Others  deemed 
it  imprudent  to  display  such  wealth  as  this  offered 
bribe  must  imply.  And  others  said  in  secret 
that  arguments  or  bribes  were  alike  in  vain  with 
King  Philip,  since  he  would  condescend  to  no 
arguments  with  heretics  but  fire  and  sword ; 
and  an  offer  of  a  portion  of  our  goods  could 


262  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

be  a  small  temptation  to  a  sovereign  who  had 
confiscated  the  whole,  and  was  about  to  come 
in  person,  or  to  send  an  army,  to  take  j)osses- 
sion. 


THE    I,IBEEATI0:N^    of    HOLLAND.  263 


X. 

ill  ^]t0i?m. 

IN  March,  1567,  there  was  little  in  the  aspect 
of  Antwerp  to  mark  that  that  month  was, 
as  it  proved,  the  last  of  the  independent  exist- 
ence of  the  ancient  free  city,  so  long  rioting  in 
prosperity;  little,  at  least,  to  the  general  ob- 
server. 

There  had  been  another  insurrection  since 
that  of  the  image-breakers,  but  the  resolute 
Count  of  Hoogstraten,  then  the  prince's  deputy, 
had  gone  boldly  among  the  rioters,  had  himself 
shot  the  ringleaders,  and  thus  quiet  had  been 
restored.  And  now  the  Prince  of  Orang-e  him- 
self  was  among  us.  The  bragging  Brederode 
had  been  secretly  enlisting  recruits  in  the  city  and 
neighbourhood  for  an  expedition  against  the  gov- 
ernment, or  rather  an  expedition  to  compel  the 
Spanish  king  to  respect  the  ancient  government 
of  the  country,  to  call  the  States-C4eneral,  and 
observe  the  charters  to  which  he  had  sworn. 

In  the  beginning  of  March  the  result  of  this 
secret  recruiting  appeared  before  us  in  an  army 
of  three  thousand  men,  headed  by  Marnix,  Lord 
of  Thoulouse,  brother  of  St.  Aldegond  ;  a  young 


264  THE    LIBEEATIOX    OF    HOLLAND. 

Pi'otestant  nobleman  of  an  ancient  Savoyard 
family,  who  had  left  the  university  to  devote 
himself  to  tlie  championshij)  of  his  persecuted 
brethren  in  the  faith.  He  was  scarcely  twenty. 
His  young  wife  was  residing  in  Antwerp. 

Against  this  newly-levied  band,  with  their 
gallant,  but  untried  leader,  Philip  de  Lannoy, 
Lord  of  Beauvoir,  commander  of  the  Duchess 
Margaret's  body-guard,  led  eight  hundred  picked 
veterans.  They  met  at  Oosterisle,  near  Ant- 
werp. The  battle  was  carried  on  within  sight 
and  hearing  of  the  city.  The  three  thousand 
men  were  cut  to  pieces,  driven  into  the  Scheldt, 
hunted  into  barns,  and  burned,  too  quickly  for 
any  rescue  to  be  organized.  The  young  wife 
of  Thoulouse,  already  a  widow  (although  she 
knew  it  not)  ran  distracted  through  the  streets, 
calling  on  all  men  to  rise  and  defend  her  hus- 
band and  the  little  band  Avho  had  ventured  all 
to  rescue  the  Protestants.  Very  soon  ten  thous- 
and men  assembled,  armed  indeed,  but  not 
trained.  They  were  frantic  with  indignation, 
and  would  have  rushed,  without  further  prepara- 
tion, from  the  gates.  But  the  Prince  knew  too 
well  how  little  the  bravest  undisciplined  men, 
unaccustomed  to  act  together,  can  do  in  the 
field  against  a  compact  body  of  veterans,  ani- 
mated by  one  will,  and  trained  to  act  as  one  man. 
Immediately  he  was  at  the  Red  Gate,  to  prevent 
their  issuing  forth  to  what  he  knew  would  be 
destruction.     Enraged  at   his  opposition,  they 


THE    LTBERATIOI^'    OF    HOLLAJTD.  265 

threatened  his  Ufa.  They  called  him  traitor, 
coward  ;  and  one  handicraftsman  even  presented 
a  pistol  to  his  breast.  It  was  not  the  last  time 
the  pistol  of  an  assassin  was  levelled  at  that 
heart !  But  he  was  not  to  be  moved.  He 
would  not  suffer  the  people  to  rush  forth  to 
slaughter.  And  he  succeeded.  His  one  voice, 
with  its  true  words,  saved  them.  All  but  five 
hundred  were  persuaded  to  remain  in  the  city. 
These  would  not  listen,  and  pressed  .madly 
through  the  gates.  Once  without  the  gates, 
however,  and  in  the  face  of  the  fiery  and  victor- 
ious body-guard,  they  began  to  feel  the  hopeless- 
ness of  their  enterprise.  Their  forAvard  pace 
soon  slackened,  and  in  a  very  short  time  they 
returned.  The  only  result  of  the  expedition 
was,  that  Lannoy,  seeing  them  advance,  ordered 
the  instant  massacre  of  the  three  hundred  prison- 
ers, who  alone  had  been  spared  from  the  slaugh- 
ter of  the  three  thousand. 

But  the  tumult  in  the  city  lasted  three  days 
and  nights.  Fifteen  thousand  Calvinists  en- 
camped on  the  Meere.  With  them  were  united 
all  the  turbulent  spirits  of  the  city.  The  peace- 
able burghers  dreaded  the  worst.  Day  and 
night  the  Prince  laboured  to  restore  peace  ;  and 
at  length,  by  setting  the  foreign  merchants, 
Italians,  Spanish,  Portuguese,,  and  English,  each 
to  guard  his  own  property,  and  by  calling  out 
four  thousand  Lutherans,  and  inducing  them  to 
combine  with  the  Catholics  for  the  preservation 
23 


266  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAKD. 

of  order,  he  succeeded  in  persuading  the  Calvin- 
ists  to  listen  to  terms,  and  saved  the  city  from 
the  horrors  of  a  war  from  street  to  street,  and 
from  house  to  house. 

Again  and  a2:ain  in  this  conflict  he  risked  his 
life,  ridino;  more  than  once  alone  in  face  of  the 
cannon  into  the  midst  of  the  rioters. 

Never  was  there  a  more  terrible  night  than 
that  of  the  14th  of  March.  Thirty-five  thous- 
and ai;nied.  men  were  out — fifteen  thousand  Cal- 
vinists  on  the  Meere,  four  thousand  Lutherans 
on  the  Strand,  from  fifteen  to  twenty  thousand 
Catholics  in  the  Great  Square — ^all  eager  to  shed, 
each  other's  blood,  all  burning  with  wrongs  to 
avenge ;  the  Catholics  Avith  bitter  religious 
hatred,  and  wearing  the  medals  of  the  outraged 
image  of  their  Queen  of  Heaven  ;  the  Reformed, 
alas  !  as  furious,  with  the  bitter  memories  of 
murdered  and  tortured  parents,  sons,  and  daugh- 
ters, brothers,  and  sisters. 

There  could  be  no  doubt  in  our  minds  on 
which  side  the  wrongs  were  deepest ;  but,  alas  ! 
there  was  much  doubt  on  which  side  there  was 
least  of  the  frantic,  diabolical  spirit  of  hatred 
and  revenge.  It  might  be  even  felt  that  the 
cause  of  God  and  His  Word  might  be  stained, 
not  with  the  destruction  of  inanimate  images, 
but  with  the  murder  of  helpless  women,  the 
sack  of  the  Roman  Catholic  houses.  From  this 
the  Prince  of  Orange  saved  Antwerp  and  the 
Reformed  Church. 


THE   LIBERATION   OF   HOLLAND.  267 

At  ten  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  15th, 
he  rode  to  the  Meere  with  Hoogstraten  and  a 
hundred  troopers,  to  the  midst  of  the  square 
where  the  fifteen  thousand  Calvinists  were  en- 
camped, and  entreated  them  to  accept  the  terms 
of  peace,  which  included  the  right  of  public 
worship  within  the  city,  and  the  refusal  to  admit 
a  foreign  garrison  ;  warning  them  of  the  conse- 
quences if  they  declined. 

Once  more  that  voice,  so  eloquent  in  its  truth, 
prevailed.  A  hearing  was  gained.  Then  the 
Prince  cried,  "  Vive  le  Roi !"  And  after  a 
brief  pause,  the  cry  was  responded  to  by  the 
thousands  present,  and  peace  was  secured. 

It  was  said  to  be  the  last  time  those  words 
ever  passed  the  Prince's  lips.  But  at  that  mo- 
ment he  was  nominally  the  King's  deputy,  and 
the  avoiding  of  fearful  carnage  and  crime  were 
involved  in  the  declaration. 

Then  the  Prince  once  more  insisted  on  the 
Duchess  Margaret  accepting  his  resignation  of 
every  office  he  held  from  King  Philij).  With 
his  last  Vive  le  Roi !  he  had  saved  Antwerp. 
He  would  utter  the  hollow  words  no  more  ! 

In  one  month  from  the  15  th  of  March,  every- 
thing was  changed.  Protestant  Tournay  had 
been  subdued  ;  the  siege  of  Protestant  Valen- 
ciennes was  over.  Egmont  was  massacring 
Protestants  in  his  provinces,  to  jDrove  his  loyalty. 
Count  Horn  was  blundering  deeper  and  deeper 
into   the   royal   displeasure,   although    he    had 


2G8  THE    LIBERATI0:N"   op   HOLLA]!fD. 

abandoned  the  national  cause.  Brederode  was 
basely  entreating  Horn  to  intercede  for  him  with 
the  Duchess,  ready  to  abandon  any  person  or 
cause,  if  he  might  not  riot  a  Uttle  longer  in  his 
pleasure  gardens  at  Vianen  ;  but,  too  late  in  his 
submission,  he  was  obliged  to  fly  to  Embden, 
there  to  die  within  a  year.  Antwerp  having 
lost  the  Prince,  was  at  the  feet  of  the  Duchess, 
meekly  welcoming  her  Avhen  she  came  on  a  visit 
on  the  28th  of  April,  and  receiving  the  foreign 
garrison  she  brought. 

Only  the  Prince  was  unchanged.  After  vainly 
endeavouring  to  save  Horn  and  Egmont,  the 
love  for  whom  had  rooted  itself  so  deeply  in 
his  heart,  he  went  forth  from  his  country ;  not 
to  rescue  himself,  but  deliberately  henceforth  to 
devote  property,  honour,  life,  to  the  defence  not 
only  of  the  freedom  of  the  Netherlands,  but  of 
a  cause  which,  during  the  last  months,  had  be^ 
come  dearer  and  more  sacred  still ;  the  freedom 
of  all  men  to  read  the  Word  of  God,  and  to 
believe  and  worship  as  it  commanded. 

For  the  rumours  of  the  preceding  year  had 
been  but  too  true.  The  Duke  of  Alva  was 
actually  on  his  way  with  his  army  of  irresistible 
veterans.  But  of  the  misery  involved  in  that 
fact,  none  among  us  could  yet  conceive  the 
extent. 

The  whole  country  was  prostrate.  Once  more 
the  emigration  began,  which  when  Alva  came 
it  was  felt  would  be  impossible.     Thousands, 


THE    LIBEKATION    OF    IIOLLAMD.  269 

and  these  the  best  and  bravest  and  most  indus- 
trious, fled  the  country.  Thousands  more  were 
burned,  beheaded,  drowned,  as  heretics,  by  order 
of  the  Duchess  IMargaret,  anxious  to  prove  how 
unjust  it  was  that  the  King  should  supersede 
one  who  so  zealously  carried  out  his  orders. 
The  ministers  and  people  were  hanged  in  mock- 
ery from  the  beams  of  their  unfinished  churches, 
churches  erected  in  reliance  on  the  Duchess' 
solemn  permission.  And,  alas,  too  many  for- 
sook the  faith  and  returned  to  the  Catholic 
Church,  resuming  their  devotions  with  a  des- 
perate zeal  which  did  not  deceive  the  Govern- 
ment. 

On  the  22d  of  May  the  old  edict  of  persecu- 
tion was  once  more  placarded  in  the  streets  of 
Antwerp.  We  were  reminded  that  all  grown 
persons  who  had  attended  the  public  preachings 
were  exposed  to  the  gallows,  and  little  children 
to  be  beaten  with  rods  ;  that  all  who  had  sung 
Protestant  hymns  at  the  burial  of  a  relation,  or 
bought  a  religious  book,  or  uttered  a  word 
against  a  priest,  were  under  immediate  sentence 
of  death,  with  confiscation  of  property. 

But  what  did  these  edicts  of  the  Duchess 
avail  ?  They  were  too  discriminating ;  they 
made  some  exceptions.  The  King  was  indig- 
nant at  their  clemency.  In  a  few  weeks  Alva 
was  coming  with  a  proclamation  that  the  whole 
nation  lay  under  sentence  of  death,  and  with  an 
army  of  fiends  to  execute  the  sentence. 
23* 


270  THE    LIEEKATIOX    OF    IIOLLAXD. 

But  to  me  tliose  first  months  of  the  year 
1567  brought  events  which,  in  my  small  world, 
quite  eclipsed  for  a  time  the  great  events  out- 
side. 

On  May  the  24th,  the  day  that  terrible  edict 
had  been  afresh  i:)lacarded  in  the  streets,  IMark 
had  been  very  busy  all  day  trying  to  collect  the 
money  to  be  raised  in  Antwerp  to  assist  in  pay- 
ing the  Swiss  mercenaries,  with  whom  it  Avas 
hoped  Count  Louis  of  Nassau  might  oppose  the 
Spaniards.  He  came  back  dispirited.  The 
people  were  prostrate,  he  said  ;  paralysed  with 
terror,  and  yet  not  desperate  with  it,  but  still 
persisting  in  hoping  the  King  would,  after  all, 
be  persuaded  to  clemency. 

"  John  van  Broek,"  he  said,  "  thinks  there  is 
comparatively  little  danger  to  the  Lutherans. 
All  governments,  he  says,  must  know  they  are 
very  difterent  from  the  turbulent  Calvinists ; 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  Reformed  dislike  to 
trust  their  interests  to.  Lutheran  leaders.  In 
vain,  before  he  left,  did  the  Prince  entreat  them 
to  merge  their  differences  in  the  real  unity  of 
their  faith  before  the  common  danger.  The 
Reformed,  especially,  declared  it  would  be  be- 
traying their  consciences  to  unite  with  those 
Avho  received  the  Augsburg  Confession.  It 
seems  as  if  we  must  be  smitten  more  and  more, 
and  crushed  into  the  very  dust,  before  these 
wretched  schisms  are  crushed  out  of  us." 

Ursel  was  there  ;  and  dearly  as  she  loved  her 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAXD.  2  71 

brother,  lier  conscience  wonld  not  suffer  her  to 
let  this  pass. 

"  Brother,"  she  said,  "  I  must  speak.  The 
Prince  of  Orange  and  yon  are  unjust.  Your 
faith  and  your  wishes  can  not  be  a  standard  for 
all.  How  can  I  unite  with  a  party  who  declare 
things  about  the  Lord's  Supper  which  I  regard 
as  idolatrous  ?  When  once  we  have  seen  where 
such  documents  about  the  Sacrament  lead,  how 
can  ^ve  let  in  the  thinnest  edge  of  that  terrible 
wedge  again  ?  The  difterences  between  us  are 
not  trifles.  No  error  is  a  trifle.  Whoever 
should  open  the  smallest  wicket  in  a  citadel  to 
an  enemy,  would  be  a  traitor,  as  much  as  one 
that  threw  open  the  greatest  gates  ;  and  might 
ruin  the  city  as  eftectually." 

"  No  one  wants  the  Reformed  to  say  they 
agree  with  the  Lutherans,"  he  replied  ;  "  but 
only,  acknowledging  they  disagree  on  some 
points,  that  they  should  combine  against  an 
enemy  who  is  ready  to  destroy  them  both." 

"  What  strength  is  there,"  she  said,  "  in  com- 
bining with  those  with  whom  we  cannot  agree  ? 
See  what  miseries  came  to  the  kings  of  Judah 
from  combining  with  fallen  Israel." 

"  Ursel,"  said  Mark,  "  you  are  unreasonable. 
The  Lutherans  are  not  idolaters  ;  but  take  care 
lest  you  are,  when  you  set  up  your  own  inter- 
pretation on  all  points  as  the  inspired  truth." 

"  It  is  not  my  interpretation,"  said  Ursel ; 
"  it  is  the  truth  of  God." 


272  THE   LIBEKATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

"  Sister,"  he  rei^lied,  gently,  "  do  you  hope 
to  meet  me  and  Costanza  in  heaven  ?" 

"  I  expect  to  meet  many  in  heaven  with  whom 
I  dare  not  combine  on  earth,"  she  said. 

"  On  what  grounds  ?"  he  asked. 

"  You  know,  Mark ;  because  we  trust  in  one 
only  Saviour,  who  gave  Himself  for  us." 

"  And  is  not  that  enough  to  unite  us  on 
earth  ?"  he  asked.  "  Do  you  think,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  fifteen  thousand  Calvinists  who 
encamped  in  the  Place  de  Meere  last  March, 
and  threatened  death  to  Lutherans  and  Catho- 
lics, are  all  prepared  for  heaven  ?" 

"  How  can  you  ask  such  a  thing  !"  she  said, 

"  Then  if  your  Calvinism  does  not  necessarily 
admit  to  heaven,  nor  our  Lutheranism  exclude 
from  it,  why  not  acknowledge  the  one  basis  of 
union  which  does  admit  access  to  God's  pres- 
ence now  and  hereafter  ?  Ursel,"  he  continued, 
smiling,  as  he  wished  her  good-night,  "  still  we 
are  one,  and  Ifeel  we  are  one." 

"  I  cannot  pretend  to  think  what  I  do  not, 
brother,"  she  said  ;  "  and  I  think  the  Lutheran 
errors  very  dangerous." 

He  looked  pained  as  he  turned  from  her ;  but 
afterwards  he  said  to  me  : 

"  We  must  be  gentle  with  Ursel.  It  is 
scarcely  possible,  perhaps,  to  hold  truth  firmly 
enough  to  die  for  it,  as  I  am"  sure  she  does,  with- 
out gras|)ing  some  doubtful  portions  too  tightly. 
Only  He  who  is  all  truth,  is  also  all  love.     We 


THE    LIBKRATION    OF    IIOLLAIS'D.  273 

can  no  more  be  perfect  in  the  one  than  the  other. 
But  let  lis  remember,  Costanza,  that  in  abiding 
in  that  living  Lord,  we  are  united  to  that  Per- 
fection which  none  of  us  fully  comprehend  ;  and 
in  Him,  and  in  Him  only,  are  we  truly  united  to 
one  another." 

The  next  day  he  went  out  as  usual  to  his 
affairs.  The  little  cloud  of  depression  had 
passed  ;  and  he  said,  as  he  went,  after  our  morn- 
ing prayer : 

"  "We  will  never  despair,  Costanza.  Hope  is 
a  grace  to  be  cherished.  The  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
is  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  and  to  Him,  not  to 
King  Philip,  or  Alva,  or  the  devil,  all  power  is 
given." 

Then  turning  back  again,  he  said  : 

"  Tell  Ursel  she  must  not  be  like  the  Israelites 
in  Egypt,  and  not  understand  when  God  sends 
the  deliverer.  Tell  her  she  must  sup  with  us 
this  evening ;  it  is  our  birthday ;  and  we  will 
finish  our  battle  of  last  night."  And  taking 
Mayken  in  his  arms,  and  kissing  her,  he  was  out 
of  sight  in  a  minute. 

I  busied  myself  that  day  with  little  extra 
preparations  for  the  evening  entertainment ;  and 
at  the  hour  fixed,  Ursel,  Dolores,  Mayken,  and 
I  were  all  gathered  in  Dolores'  room.  The 
windows  were  open,  the  Scheldt  sparkled  in  the 
June  sunshine,  and  the  little  roof-garden  was 
full  of  fragrant  flowers. 

But  Mark  did  not  come.     I  did  not  wonder 


2V4  THE    LIBER ATIOX    OF    HOLLAJiTD. 

much  at  first.  Too  often  in  these  tumultuous 
days  unexpected  business  would  delay  him,  and 
I  could  not  expect  that  when  household  after 
household  was  being  torn  asunder,  our  little 
arrangements  were  always  to  go  on  without 
interruption.  Ursel  was  the  first  to  look  alarmed. 
A  white  anxious  look  began  to  creep  over  her 
face,  and  her  large  grey  eyes  dilated  at  every 
sound.  I  could  see  she  tried  to  hide  her  anxiety 
from  me.  She  began  to  move  nervously  about 
the  room  and  to  play  with  Mayken,  and  yet  at 
any  sound  she  stopped  and  listened.  Then  I 
began  to  be  anxious,  and  went  to  the  house- 
door  to  watch.  There  I  met  Truyken  also 
■watching.  Our  eyes  met,  but  she  said  nothing. 
I  said : 

"  It  is  some  ai'rival  of  merchandise,  Truyken  ; 
or  he  has  letters  to  write.  You  know  these 
are  busy  times." 

Truyken  shook  her  head,  and  said,  "  Poor 
lamb !" 

By  this  time  three  hours  had  passed  beyond 
the  hour  appointed,  and  it  was  dark.  My  heart 
seemed  to  grow  cold  and  stand  still.  I  attempted 
no  more  explanations,  but  went  back  and  silently 
gave  Mayken  her  supper,  and  was  leading  her 
away  to  bed. 

"  Will  not  my  father  come  to  pray  with  us  ?" 
she  said. 

The  words  brought  tears  into  my  eyes.  I 
pressed  her  to  my  heart,  Avhich  seemed  to  beat 


THE   LIBERATION   OF   HOLLAND.  2V5 

again.  And  so  we  sat  another  hour,  I  suppose, 
when  Truyken  came  in,  and  said  bluntly : 

"  It  is  time  to  be  at  rest.  The  magistrates 
do  not  like  folks  to  be  up  at  this  hour." 

I  could  not  bear  to  acknowledge  that  Mark 
might  not  come,  by  breaking  up  our  little  party ; 
but  Truyken  gently  took  the  child. 

"  Mother,"  whispered  Mayken,  "  will  you  say 
the  j^rayer  ?" 

Dolores  gently  drew  us  to  her  with  that  touch 
which  had  always  for  me  the  command  of  a 
mother's,  in  trouble;  and  we  all  knelt  down 
together,  while  Dolores  prayed  that  G©d  who 
loved  us  all,  would  protect  us  all  and  keep  us 
as  still  one  household,  part  of  His  household, 
safe  under  the  shelter  of  His  wines. 

Then  we  separated,  that  there  might  be  no 
lights  or  noises  to  awaken  suspicion  in  the  house. 
And  hour  after  hour  the  suspense  grew  more 


agonizing. 


But  it  did  not  last  long.  At  three  o'clock  a 
loud  knock  came  at  the  door.  Mark's  would 
have  been  low  ;  it  could  not  be  him.  I  looked 
out  and  saw  the  officers  of  justice. 

Now  I  knew  the  meaning  of  Mark's  disappear- 
ance too  well.  All  the  forbidden  books  and 
perilous  papers  in  the  house  came  before  my 
thoughts,  and  hastily  dressing,  I  prepared  my- 
self for  the  worst.  Yet,  indeed,  what  worse 
could  come  ?  If  Mark  was  in  their  hands,  it 
would  but  bring  me  nearer  him  to  be  in  prison 


276  THE  LIBERATION   OF   HOLLAND. 

■with  him.     But  as  I  went  down  stairs  I  found 
Ti'uyken  before  me. 

"  Go  back,"  she  said,  peremptorily.  "  I  un- 
derstand people  of  this  kind  best." 

I  heard  their  heavy  footsteps  and  rough 
voices  in  one  room  after  another,  and  I  knew 
there  was  scarcely  one  but  contained  heretical 
books  or  papers,  which  might  have  condemned 
us  all  to  instant  death.  But  to  my  surprise,  as 
the  men  at  length  with  Truyken  at  their  head 
entered  my  room,  they  had  a  baffled,  disappointed 
look.  In  this  room,  however,  was  the  secret  cup- 
board, containing  the  most  fatal  papers  of  all. 
It  was  behind  the  large  bed,  and  I  trusted  might 
escape  them  ;  but  to  my  dismay,  one  of  the  men, 
with  keen,  restless  eyes,  roughly  pushed  aside  the 
hangings,  and  knocking  on  the  wall  exclaimed : 

"  We  have  it  at  last.  You  will  not  easily 
baffle  an  old  terrier  like  Hendrik." 

Truyken  looked  rather  grave,  and  said  : 

"  All  families  of  standing  such  as  ours  have 
their  treasure  cupboards,  I  suppose  ;  but  the 
worthy  constables  of  Antwerp  are  no  thieves, 
that  we  should  hide  such  things  from  them." 

And  she  began  to  assist  them  in  their  re- 
searches with  ostentatious  politeness.  I  trembled, 
fearing  she  knew  nothing  of  the  danger,  but  to 
my  surprise  the  officers  drew  one  piece  of  anti- 
quated finery  after  another  out  of  the  recess, 
exclaiming  indignantly  at  each  harmless  i^iece  of 
brocade  and  satin  Avhich  baffled  their  researches. 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  277 

At  leno;th  I  heard  the  ominous  crackle  of 
paper,  and  gave  up  all  for  lost. 

Eagerly  the  officers  brought  the  prize  to  their 
lanterns,  but,  to  their  evident  disgust,  it  was 
merely  an  old  folio  missal,  and  they  threw  it  on 
the  ground  with  a  contemptuous  curse. 

Truyken  picked  it  up  with  much  reverence, 
and  said,  crossing  herself,  "  That  was  not  the 
way  /  was  taught  to  treat  the  holy  books  !  but 
these  are  evil  times." 

The  men  rummaged  about  the  house  till  morn- 
ing ;  but  still  finding  nothing,  they  contented 
themselves  Avith  a  contribution  from  the  larder 
and  cellar,  and,  affixing  the  royal  seal  on  the 
house,  left  us  in  quietness. 

No  persuasion  of  ours  could  induce  Truyken 
to  unravel  this  mystery. 

Bibles  and  hymn-books,  Flemish,  and  Spanish, 
and  Dutch,  and  even  Latin,  all  had  vanished, 
and  we  had  to  content  ourselves  with  such  good 
words  as  we  could  find  in  Truyken's  missals. 
And  happily  there  were  many,  for  we  needed 
them  sorely. 

No  tidings  reached  us  of  Mark  for  many 
weeks.  My  great  comfort  was  the  love  and 
sympathy  this  sorrow  called  out.  All  the  little 
barriers  which  divided  the  family  seemed  to 
melt  into  nothing  before  it.  Christina  forgot 
health  and  every  thing  to  come  and  comfort  me. 
Once,  indeed,  John  van  Broek  said,  between  the 
whiffs  of  his  pipe  : 
24 


278  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

"  I  always  was  afraid  some  evil  would  come 
of  those  i)ublic  lireacliings.  My  poor  brotlier- 
in-law  would  have  too  much  to  do  with  those 
fanatical  Calvinists  !" 

Ho  was  persuaded  the  Government  Avould 
never  forget  the  servics  the  Antwerp  Lutherans 
had  rendered  in  the  last  insurrection,  and  would 
know  better  than  to  confound  them  with  mere 
fanatics.  But  allowing  for  this  conviction  of 
his  superior  prudence,  he  was  most  kind  to  us, 
and  even  urged  our  taking  refuge  in  his  house, 
at  no  small  peril  to  themselves. 

I  could  not,  however,  think  of  this  for  an 
instant.  Why  involve  any  one  else  in  the  peril, 
necessarily  the  portion  of  two  fugitive  Spanish 
heretics,  like  Dolores  and  me  ?  Once,  indeed, 
I  thought  of  letting  Mayken  take  refuge  there  ; 
but  the  child  clung  so  much  to  me,  that  it  seemed 
hardly  a  duty  to  give  her  the  pain  of  separation 
for  the  sake  of  such  a  doubtful  advantage. 

Cut  no  one's  sympathy  was  like  Ursel's. 
Dolores  was  always  like  a  mother  tome;  but 
Ursel  loved  Mark  as  no  one  else  in  the  world 
did,  except  me  and  Mayken.  And  there  was 
something  in  the  sight  of  her  white  face,  and 
her  eyes  so  swollen  with  weej)ing,  which  com- 
forted me  more  than  any  thing,  and  drew  me  to 
her  inexpressibly.  And  yet  she  seemed  very 
hopeless  ;  so  that  often  I  found  myself  comfort- 
ing her,  which  I  suppose  was  one  reason  why  it 
did  me  good  to  be  with  her. 


THE    LICEKATIOX    OF    HOLLAND.  279 

At  lengtli,  one  morning  in  September,  May- 
ken  came  running  breathlessly  into  the  room 
with  burning  lace,  and  whispered  to  me  : 

''  I  have  heard  father's  voice." 

"  I  could  only  say  :    • 

"  Poor  darling,  it  is  impossible." 

"  Oh,  no  !  I  could  never  mistake  his  voice," 
she  said.  "  It  was  from  a  little  narrow  window, 
in  a  great  gloomy  house  with  very  high  walls. 
But  it  was  his  voice ;  and  he  said,  '  Mayken ! 
Mayken  !'  I  stopped,  and  looked  up,  and  then 
very  softly  he  said  :  '  Tell  your  mother  to  be  at 
home  to-night,  and  to  open  the  back-door  at 
midnight ;  and  now  run  home  directly.'  " 

"  I  would  have  stopped,  but  Truyken  seized 
me  in  her  arms,  as  if  I  had  been  a  baby,  and  ran 
home  with  me  at  once." 

"  Is  the  child  right  ?"  I  asked  of  Truyken, 
who  followed  her. 

"  Quite  right.  I  heard  the  words.  The 
blessed  saints  grant  no  one  else  did  !" 

I  told  no  one  but  Ursel  that  day.  The  secret 
was  perilous  ;  but  I  could  not  help  telling  her. 
To  my  surprise,  she,  usually  so  firm  in  outward 
composure,  burst  into  an  agony  of  tears. 

"  I  have  not  deserved  it.  I  have  not  deserved 
it.  God  is  good.  He  forgives  and  pities.  I 
thought  I  should  have  borne  this  anguish  to  my 
grave." 

"  "What  do  you  mean  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Think  of  the  last  look  I  saw  of  his  !"  she 


280  THE   LIBEEATIOiq"   OF   HOLLAND.      •- 

sobbed.  "  I  have  never  forgotten  it  night  or 
day.  He  said  so  tenderly  that  we  were  one  in 
faith,  and  I,  in  my  miserable  pride,  which  I 
thought  was  true  zeal,  answered  him  Avith  a 
reproach,  recalling  our  -differences.  And  he 
made  no  answer,  but  turned  away  with  such  a 
gentle,  sorrowful  look.  It  pierced  my  heart 
then,  but  I  would  not  retract ;  and  for  all  these 
wretched  days  I  have  thought  I  should  never 
see  his  face,  nor  hear  his  voice  again,  but  die 
with  that  look  in  my  heart." 

"  Ah,  TJrsel,"  I  said,  "  why  did  you  not  tell 
me  ?"  And  I  repeated  to  her  the  words  he  had 
said  to  me  as  he  went  away  that  morning. 

"  That  only  made  it  worse,"  she  said.  "  O 
Costanza,  the  terrible  light  I  have  had  thrown 
on  every  thing  during  these  last  days  !  I  sup- 
pose it  is  like  what  people  feel  on  death-beds, 
or  on  awakening  in  another  world.  All  my  past 
hfe  has  risen  before  me  with  such  frightful  dis- 
tinctness ;  all  my  bitter  and  angry  words  to 
Mark  about  these  differences  ;  all  the  bitterness 
and  pride  I  took  for  steadfastness  and  zeal,  and 
despised  others,  despised  Mark,  for  not  having. 
And  it  became  so  dreadfully  clear  to  me  that 
our  Lord  is  pleased  with  us,  or  displeased  with 
us,  not  on  account  of  little  points  of  doctrine, 
on  which,  perhaps,  no  one  is  altogether  right, 
but  on  account  of  the  love  Ave  bear  (or  fail  in 
bearing)  one  another,  for  His  sake.  All  my 
knowledge   seemed    nothing   to   me — sounding 


THE   LIBERATION   OF   HOLLAND.  281 

brass  and  tinkling  cymbal.  It  seemed  to  me  as 
if  my  Saviour  wonld  meet  me  with  just  such  a 
gentle,  reproachful  look  as  Mark's,  and  I  should 
have  not  a  word  to  say,  but  should  see  Him 
turn  away  like  Mark,  and  never  hear  or  see  His 
holy,  glorious  face  again,  but  descend,  with  all 
my  knowledge,  among  the  evil  spirits,  who 
know  so  much  more  than  I." 

"Hush,  hush,  IJrsel!"  I  said.  "You  must 
not  speak  so.  You  love  your  Saviour ;  and 
none  who  love  Him  can  be  driven  from  His 
presence.  He  will  not  condemn  you  for  a  mis- 
take." 

"  It  was  not  a  mistake ;  it  was  intolerable 
pride  ;  it  was  sin,"  she  said. 

"  If  we  confess  our  sins,  He  is  faithful  and 
just  to  forgive  us  our  sins,"  I  said. 

"  It  must  be  true,"  she  said,  after  a  pause. 
"  I  suppose  I  have  been  tempted  from  pride  to 
despair.  But,  Costanza,  do  you  think  it  possi- 
ble I  miejht  have  a  word  or  look  from  Mark  ?" 

I  knew  there  would  be  a  contest  with  Truy- 
ken  about  it,  but  I  promised ;  and  in  spite  of 
Truyken's  remonstrances,  Ursel  was  placed  in 
an  adjoining  room,  while  I  waited  at  the  back- 
door. 

It  opened  into  a  narrow  lane  leading  to  the 
Scheldt.  At  one  o'clock  there  was  a  low  plash- 
ing of  oars  on  the  river,  breaking  the  midnight 
silence,  and  in  another  minute  Mark  was  at  my 
side. 

24* 


282  THE    LIBEEATIOX    OF    HOLLAND. 

For  a  minute  or  two  we  could  not  speak. 

"  One  quarter  of  an  hour !"  he  said.  In  a 
few  hurried  words  he  explained  to  me  how  he 
had  cut  through  the  bar  of  his  window,  and 
escaped,  and  was  now  on  his  way  by  the  river 
in  a  boat  belonging  to  the  brother  of  a  fellow- 
prisoner,  who  had  escaped  with  him.  "  And 
now,"  he  said,  "  there  is  a  choice  before  us, 
Costanza.  I  can  meet  you  at  Flushing,  and  we 
can  take  refugee  in  England.  In  that  case  I 
must  abandon  my  country,  and  all  hope  of  sav- 
ing her.  But  we  may  spend  our  days  in  peace 
together.  Or  I  can  fly  to  Germany,  join  the 
Prince  of  Orange,  and  do  what  I  can  to  aid  him 
in  saving  my  country  from  Alva  and  the  Inquisi- 
tion.    Which  shall  I  do  ?" 

,.     "  I   cannot   choose,  Mark,"  I   said ;   "  but  I 
will  be  content  with  what  you  choose." 

"  My  love,"  he  said,  "  let  us  act  together ; 
let  us  make  the  sacrifice  together ;  let  us  oifer 
to  Him  the  best  we  have  to  ofier,  and  trust  Him 
to  reunite  us,  if  it  is  His  will.  You  are  not  a 
child,  whose  place  is  merely  to  submit.  You 
are  my  wife,  to  share  my  every  purpose.  I  will 
do  nothing  without  your  consent.  The  ofiering 
must  be  ours,  not  mine.'''' 

"  O  Mark,  I  can  yield  if  God  takes  !  But 
how  can  I  give  up  ?" 

"  You  can  give  up  if  He  asks,"  he  replied, 
very  softly. 

"  But  does  He  ask  ?     He  gave   us  to  each 


THE   LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAISTD.  283 

Other.  What  would  you  have  me  do  ?  Let 
me  go  with  you  where  you  go." 

"  And  Mayken  ?" 

"  Dolores,  or  Ursel,  or  Christina  would  take 
Mayken.  But  you,  who  can  take  our  place  to 
each  other." 

"  The  army  of  the  Prince  of  Orange  is  no 
place  for  you,"  he  said,  with  a  trembling  voice. 
"  If  I  am  to  serve  my  country  and  the  religion, 
you  must  take  refuge  in  Friesland  or  Holland. 
Antwerp  is  no  longer  safe  for  any  of  us,  not 
for  a  day.  Tell  John  van  Broek  I  know  his 
name  is  among  the  proscribed,  and  that  he 
must  fly." 

"  Can  we  not  meet  once  more  before  we 
decide  ?"  I  said  ;  "  only  a  few  minutes  to  decide 
on  tearing  the  heart  in  two  !" 

"  Costanza,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  suppressed 
anguish,  "  I  am  here  at  the  risk  of  life  to-night. 
I  must  be  on  my  way  to  Nassau  or  to  Eng- 
land." 

"  You  have  no  doubt  which  is  right,"  I  said. 

"  None,"  he  said,  "  if  your  mind  is  the  same. 
For  if  each  seeks  only  his  own  safety,  what  will 
become  of  the  country,  of  the  Church,  of  those 
who  cannot  defend  themselves  ?  I  believe  God 
calls  every  true  man  in  the  Netherlands  at  this 
moment  to  the  side  of  the  Prince  of  Orange." 

I  felt  he  was  right,  and  then  I  felt  I  had  but 
one  duty — to  help  him  to  make  the  sacrifice, 
and  I  said  : 


284  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

"  Mark,  I  have  no  doubt  you  must  go  to  the 
Prince.     I  will  trust  you  to  God." 

He  said  nothing  for  a  minute,  and  then  he 
murmured  : 

"  Heavenly  Father,  accept  our  offering.  Thou 
wilt  not  lay  on  us  more  than  we  can  bear." 

Then  he  gave  me  directions  about  my  joui-ney, 
how  to  write  to  him,  and  was  going,  when  I 
remembered  Ursel. 

In  a  few  rapid  words  I  told  him  of  the  change 
in  her,  and  her  distress.  He  called  her  softly 
by  name,  and  held  her  a  moment  in  his 
arms. 

"  We  are  one  in  faith  and  hope,  Ursel,"  he 
said.  "  Take  care  of  Costanza  and  Mayken. 
See,  I  commit  my  best  treasures  to  you." 

One  more  look  at  me,  and  he  was  gone  ;  and 
I  who,  the  minute  before,  leaning  on  his  shoulder, 
had  felt  myself  a  heroine,  equal  to  any  sacrifice, 
now,  that  he  was  gone,  felt  myself  a  j^oor,  help- 
less, unsuj)ported  woman,  and  sank  into  Ursel's 
arms,  and  sobbed. 

"  O  Ursel,  how  could  I  let  him  go  !" 

But  Ursel  said:-"  You  could  not  do  other- 
wise. We  will  trust  Him  with  God,  sister.  I 
am  sure  he  is  not  gone  in  vain." 

And  Ursel's  tone  had  something  in  it  like 
Mark's,  now  that  to  her  old  firmness  of  purpose 
was  added  that  new  tenderness  and  humility ; 
and  it  comforted  me. 

"  But  you  did  not  tell  him  I  was  become  a 


THE   LIBEEATION   OF   HOLLAND.  285 

Lutheran,  Costanza,  did  you  ?"  she  said  ;  "  be- 
cause that  would  not  be  true." 

I  began  to  understand  Ursel's  conscience  a 
little  better  now,  and  I  said  : 

"  No.  I  only  told  him  I  thought  you  were 
more  of  a  Christian." 

So  we  locked  the  door,  and  all  the  house  was 
quiet  until  the  morning. 


PART  SECOND. 


(28'7) 


I. 

1568.    Jacob  Claesen's  Farm,  Friesland. 

IT  is  now  nearly  a  year  since  Mark  and  I  parted 
at  the  door  of  our  old  house  in  Antwerp. 
But  I  have  never  repented  the  choice  we  then 
made.  I  am  sure  it  was  right,  and  must  there- 
fore be  for  the  best. 

Mayken  is  quite  a  companion  to  me  now,  and 
I  have  resolved,  now  that  we  are  in  comparative 
safety  at  Mark's  old  home,  to  write  little  me- 
morials of  our  daily  life,  so  that  when  we  meet 
again  the  time  past  may  not  be  such  a  blank, 
but  that  we  may  go  over  it  together,  and  that 
he  may  see  in  those  pages  how  Mayken  grew 
into  girlhood.  So  many  beloved  ones  seem  to 
look  into  my  heart  through  her  face.  She  has 
the  humour  of  her  father's  quiet  smile,  and  a 
firmness  on  her  sweet,  rosy  lips  like  his  ;  but 
my  mother  seems  to  look  on  me  through  her 
deep,  soft,  southern  eyes,  my  mother's,  yet  with 
another  look  of  pure  and  sunny  hope,  which  no 
doubt  she  has  now  in  heaven,  but  seldom  had  in 
our  home  at  Valladohd  when  I  remember  her. 
25  (289) . 


290  THE    LIBEEATIOX    OF    HOLLAND. 

But  before  I  begin  with  to-day,  I  must  trace 
back  our  history  to  that  evening  in  Antwerp. 

The  next  morning,  before  it  was  light,  Ursel 
and  I  went  to  John  van  Brock's  house,  and  gave 
him  and  Christina  Mark's  message. 

He  looked  much  bewildered,  but  said  : 

"  I  do  not  think  it  possible  there  can  be 
any  danger  for  us.  I  could  help  the  Govern- 
ment so  much  more  as  a  friend,  if  they  would 
let  me  alone,  than  as  a  victim.  And,  besides,  I 
feel  confident  the  Kino-  -will  discriminate  between 
the  wild  disciples  of  French  Huguenots  and  the 
peaceable  adherents  of  the  great  German  Con- 
fession, which  so  many  princes  of  the  empire 
have  signed." 

"  My  dear,"  said  Christina,  "  I  am  not  quite 
so  sure.  I  think  at  least  I  shall  begin  to  pack 
up  some  of  the  things,  in  case  it  should  be  desir- 
able for  us  to  leave  rather  hastily." 

Ursel  looked  at  me  in  despair. 

But  at  that  moment  a  servant  entered  with  a 
letter,  which,  when  John  van  Broek  had  read, 
he  stood  paralysed. 

"  Egmont !"  he  said  ;  "  the  Counts  Egmont 
and  Horn  were  arrested  by  the  Duke  of  Alva  at 
Brussels,  on  the  4th  of  September.  Egmont, 
the  zealous  Catholic  and  loyal  subject !  Then 
not  a  soul  in  the  land  is  safe." 

Christina  said  : 

"  Then  you  will  stay  and  help  me,  Ursel  ?" 

"  Help  you  !    About  what  ?"  exclaimed  Ursel. 


THE   LIBERATION   OF   HOLLAND.  291 

"  The  plate  and  the  linen,"  said  Christina. 

"  Christina  ! — wife  ! — what  are  you  talking 
of?"  said  John  van  Broek.  "  We  are  too  happy 
if  we  can  escape  with  life.  What  can  we  do  ? 
Ursel  stay  with  ns,"  he  exclaimed,  instinctively 
turnino;  to  the  stronoier  character. 

"  I  cannot,"  she  said.  "  How  can  I  ?  Mark 
committed  Costanza  to  my  care." 

"  We  must  try  and  do  what  Mark  would  wish, 
Ursel,"  I  said,  softly,  "  and  that  would  be  what 
is  right.  I  am  strong,  and  I  have  Dolores  and 
Truyken.     Stay  with  Christina," 

It  was  a  great  effort  to  Ursel,  but  she  stayed ; 
and  in  a  few  days  they  were  safely  in  refuge  at 
a  farm  belonging  to  my  brother-in-law,  near 
Leyden.  ,  And  the  seal  of  the  King  of  Spain 
was  affixed  to  Christina's  linen  and  plate  chests. 

Meantime,  Dolores  and  I  j^repared  to  start 
for  Friesland,  chiefly  because  it  was  the  nearest 
point  to  Germany  where  we  could  be  safe.  By 
the  evening  all  was  ready.  Truyken  had  packed 
a  few  necessary  things  in  the  smallest  compass, 
and  every  thing  else  must  be  left.  There  is  an 
unreasonable  pang  in  parting  from  inanimate 
things  which  have  been  bound  up  with  part  of 
our  lives.  We  seem  wronging  the  mute  things 
which  have  afforded  us  such  shelter,  and  given 
ns  such  pleasure  :  and  besides  this,  parting  from 
the  home  of  our  early  married  life  seemed  like 
throwing  up  another  barrier  between  me  and 
Mark.     I  knew  nothing  of  the  scenes  he  was  in, 


292  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

and  henceforth  (till  we  meet)  he  could  know 
nothino;  of  the  world  around  me.  Nothing 
could  be  dismantled.  In  Dolores'  room,  flowers, 
Mayken's  toy  corner — all  must  be  left  as  if  we 
were  to  return  to-morrow  ;  and  we  should  re- 
turn no  more  ! 

Happily  there  was  too  much  to  think  of  for 
many  lingering  looks.  But  one  more  serious 
parting,  we  believed,  awaited  us.  Truyken,  our 
rough,  faithful,  loyal  Truyken,  not  for  the  world 
would  we  have  involved  her  in  our  fate.  When 
we  looked  for  her,  however,  to  take  leave,  she 
was  nowhere  to  be  found,  and  so  we  started  in 
the  packet-boat  without  bidding  her  good-bye. 

That  night  Dolores  and  I  wrapped  ourselves 
up  on  the  deck,  with  Mayken  asleep  on  my  lap, 
and  felt  as  if  we  could  never  sleep  again,  but 
before  morning  we  were  both  asleep  with  weari- 
ness, and  were  only  awakened  by  a  familiar  voice 
saying  : 

"  We  had  better  land  here." 

It  was  Truyken  Ketel !  Mayken  rushed  into 
her  arms.     We  remonstrated,  but  she  said  : 

"  Poor,  defenseless  lambs,  did  you  think  I 
would  leave  you  to  wander  through  the  world 
without  guide  or  guard  ?" 

We  could  not  but  be  amused  at  her  relative 
estimate  ot  her  own  faculties  and  ours,  and  yet 
the  event  proved  to  the  full  the  value  of  her 
companionship.  From  many  a  difficulty  did  her 
ready  wit  disentangle  us,  whilst  her  orthodox 


THE    LIBERATION    OF   HOLLAND.  293 

habits  in  more  than  one  instance  averted  sus- 
picion from  us. 

I  dare  not  let  my  memory  dwell  long  on  the 
terrible  scenes  of  that  journey,  and  yet  this  was 
only  at  the  beginning  of  Alva's  administration. 
One  hundred  thousand  houses  arc  said  to  have 
been  deserted  in  that  year  by  the  flight  of  the 
inhabitants,  and  to  countless  numbers  even  flight 
was  impossible. 

One  night,  I  remember,  we  came  to  a  com- 
fortable little  homestead.  The  garden  was  in 
the  most  perfect  order,  flowers  grew  on  the 
borders  among  the  vegetables  ;  a  vine  with  ripe 
grapes  festooned  the  walls.  But  a  strange 
silence  hvmg  over  the  place.  "We  entered  by 
the  back-door,  which  w^as  open.  We  called, 
but  no  one  answered.  We  ventured  into  the 
next  room.  This  was  a  bedroom.  It  *  was 
empty  but  neat,  with  recent  touches  of  some 
orderly  hand.  Truyken  went  into  the  garden, 
gathered  some  vegetables  and  cooked  them ; 
and  weary  as  we  were,  we  lay  down  to  rest  and 
slept  well. 

In  the  morning  Truyken  woke  me  early.  Her 
face  was  white,  and  her  voice  trembled  as  she 
said : 

"  We  must  leave  this  place  instantly." 

In  a  few  minutes  Mayken  was  dressed,  and 

we  left ;  but  before  we  lost  sight  of  the  house, 

Truyken    touched    my    shoulder    and    mutely 

pointed  out  to  me  something  hanging  from  the 

25* 


294  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

porch  of  the  front  door.     It  was  a  human  body, 
probably  of  the  master  of  that  home. 

We  dreaded  to  look  around  us  everywhere. 
The  trees  in  the  orchards  in  quiet  country  places, 
the  beams  of  the  houses,  in  peaceful  villages 
and  busy  towns,  had  been  converted  into  gal- 
lows. Terrible  heaps  of  ashes  lay  in  many  a 
village  green,  of  which  we  knew  too  well  the 
meaning  ;  and  in  many  places,  houses  and  inhabi- 
tants all  had  been  burnt  together,  the  hearth 
having  been  made  the  funeral-pyre.  And  we 
knew  that  it  was  not  the  guilty  who  had  thus 
suflered,  but  the  holy,  the  true,  and  the  stead- 
fast, who  would  have  made  the  glory  and  safety 
of  the  land. 

Ever  as  we  journeyed,  day  and  night,  near 
or  at  a  distance,  from  cathedral  or  village  spire 
the  air  was  always  heavy  with  the  ceaseless  toll 
of  the  death-bell.  And,  alas  !  in  the  few  cases 
in  which  resistance  was  attemjited,  it  was  too 
much  in  the  sjDirit  of  frantic  revenge.  The  few 
broken  remnants  of  the  great  Confederation  of 
the  Gueux  had  taken  to  a  reckless  outlawed  life 
in  the  forest  or  on  the  sea,  under  the  name  of 
the  "  Wild  Gueux,"  and  the  "  Beggars  of  the 
Sea."  In  some  cases  these  wild  bands  rescued 
the  innocent,  but  in  too  many  they  avenged  the 
innocent  by  maiming  defenseless  priests.  Yet 
we  owe  much  to  one  such  band,  and  should 
therefore  speak  of  them  with  gentleness. 

We  had  one  evening  encountered  a  band  of 


THE   LIBERATIOX    OF    HOLLAND.  295 

Spanish  troopers,  from  whom  tliere  seemed  little 
chance  of  escape,  when  the  wild  but  familair  cry 
of  the  Gueux  echoed  from  a  neighbouring  for- 
est, and  our  captors  were  killed  or  put  to  flight 
by  a  troop  of  horsemen.  They  soon  returned 
from  the  pursuit  to  us.  It  was  a  strange  motley 
troop,  clad  in  every  variety  of  garments,  some 
in  coarse  peasants'  clothes,  or  in  the  gray  Gueux 
doublet,  some  in  the  spoils  of  the  Spaniards. 

The  leader  dismounted  and  advanced  towards 
us  with  his  Gueux  felt  cap  in  his  hand.  It  was 
the  Seigneur  de  Clairvaux,  but  worn  and  hag- 
gard and  with  garments  too  genuinely  beggarly 
in  their  rags. 

"  You  see  I  am  acting  in  character,"  he  said, 
pointing  to  the  tattered  sleeve  of  his  doublet. 
"  But  I  may  perhaps  save  you,  if  you  will  accept 
of  such  a  beggarly  escort." 

We  rested  safely  under  his  guard  that  night, 

and  the  next  day  he  set  us  on  horses  belonging 

«to  his  troop,  (since  Dolores  could  never  walk 

far,)  and  saw  us  safely  to  the  borders  of  the 

Rhine. 

There  he  hailed  a  boat,  and  when  the  poor 
boatman  hesitated  to  incur  the  penalty  of  death 
by  ferrying  us,  himself  rowed  us  across  the  river 
into  Holland. 

As  we  stood  on  the  opposite  shore  before  he 
parted  from  us,  he  said  : 

"  I  do  not  forget  my  evening  at  your  house  at 
Antwerp.     I  shall  never  forget  it.     My  mother 


296  THE    LIBEEATIOX    OF    HOLLAXD. 

and  sister  have  both  been  compromised  by  my 
joining  the  Gueux,  our  lands  are  all  confiscated, 
and  they  have  fled  into  a  nunnery,  the  only  safe 
refuge  for  them.  I  am  a  ruined  man,  an  outlaw, 
and  a  rebel." 

"  And  a  heretic  ?"  asked  Dolores. 

"ISTot  a  Papist,  at  least,"  he  said,  bitterly; 
'•not  a  believer  in  the  religion  of  hangmen." 

"  But  why  will  you  take  the  misery  without 
the  glory  and  the  joy  ?"  said  Dolores. 

And  I  entreated  him  to  join  the  Prince  of 
Orange,  the  only  true  leader  of  lawful  resist- 
ance to  the  great  council  of  murder  which  now 
reigned  over  the  land. 

"  I  believe  your  counsel  is  right,"  he  said. 

"Indeed,"  said  Dolores,  earnestly,  "there  are 
better  things  for  true  men  to  live  for  than  the 
blind  vengeance  of  these  bandit  troops.  It  is 
not  the  work  for  you.  .  There  is  still  a  God,  still 
a  Saviour  in  heaven." 

"  Can  you  believe  it  ?"  he  said  ;  "  though  all 
these  smoking  villages  and  desolated  homes, 
and  this  cruel  slaughter  of  the  innocent  ?" 

"  As  fervently  as  I  believe  that  the  salvation 
of  the  world  came  through  the  cross,"  she  re- 
plied. "  But  I  believe  also  in  the  existence  of 
a  mighty,  murdering,  lying  spirit,"  she  added, 
solemnly. 

"  No  doubt,"  he  replied ;  "  it  is  not  difficult 
to  believe  in  the  devil  in  these  days.  But  do 
you  know  it  is  currently  reported  among  the 


THE   LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND,  297 

Spaniards  and  the  Catholic  peasants,  that  the 
Dutch  worship  the  devil  ?  A  peasant  came  up 
to  a  Reformed  preacher  the  other  day,  and  said 
very  gravely,  '  Ah  !  now  I  see  it  was  a  mistake  ; 
you  have  not  a  cloven  foot.' " 

Dolores  did  not  smile.  She  knew  too  well  the 
deep  despair  which  lay  at  the  bottom  of  this 
laughter,  in  his  heart,  as  with  so  many  others  in 
the  Netherlands  ;  and  if  words  could  do  it,  she 
was  resolved  to  rouse  him  from  this  slough  of 
unbelief  and  hopelessness,  from  which  nothing 
but  living  faith  could  save  any  man  who  thought 
or  felt  in  those  dreadful  days. 

"  Seiior,"  she  said,  "  I  have  seen  in  my  coun- 
try another  such  overthroAV  of  hope  as  you  are 
witnessing  now  in  yours ;  only  more  complete. 
Every  one  I  loved  and  trusted  in  Spain,  except 
my  sister,  has  been  executed  at  the  stake,  or 
has  perished  in  prison.  The  whole  light  of 
truth  has  been  quenched  in  Spain.  And  yet  I 
know  those  deaths  of  torture  were  no  triumph 
to  the  devil,  but  the  beginning  of  eternal  vic- 
tory to  those  who  suffered.  Believe  me,  there 
is  a  God  who  will  judge  in  the  earth.  The  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  is  not  dead,  but  living  in  the  heav- 
ens now.  And  He  is  worthy  that  we  should  live 
and  die  for  Him." 

"  And,"  I  added,  "  He  has  given  you  in  this 
land  the  Prince  of  Orange,  and  old  charters,  my 
husband  says,  which  it  is  just  to  defend ;  so  that 
you  need  not  sink  to  a  lawless  bandit  warfare." 


298  THE    LIBERATIOX    OF    HOLLAifD. 

He  was  evidently  touched. 

"  It  is  very  strange  to  me  now,"  he  said,  "  to 
hear  words  of  truth  and  kindness  such  as  these. 
I  shall  remember  them !" 

"And,"  Dolores  said,  "will  you  promise  us 
one  thing  ?  I  have  a  fragment  of  the  Bible  here 
in  Flemish ;  it  is  the  Gospel  of  St.  John,  which 
you  heard  my  brother-in-law  read.  Will  you 
take  it  as  a  little  acknowledgment  of  our  debt 
of  gratitude  to  you  ?  and  will  you  read  it  ?" 

He  bowed  low,  and  kissed  her  hand,  as  she 
gave  him  the  poor  torn  pages. 

"  They  will  be  very  precious  to  me,"  he  said ; 
"and,  as  well  as  I  can,  I  will  read  the  holy 
words  every  day." 

After  leaving  him,  we  made  our  way  into 
Friesland.  One  night  we  slept  at  Xaarden,  a 
little  walled  town  on  the  borders  of  the  Zuyder 
See,  where  many  of  the  inhabitants  were  Prot- 
estants. I  remember  well  the  hospitality  of  the 
good  pastor  and  his  wife  who  sheltered  us  then 
— the  peaceful  home— the  family  prayer — the 
cheerful  meals — the  encouraging  Avords  at  part- 
ing. 

At  length  we  reached  Truyken's  relations, 
whose  farm,  on  the  north-eastern  side  of  the 
Zuyder  See,  not  far  from  Leeuwarden,  was  our 
destination. 

The  country  was  not  quite  so  desolate  here  as 
in  some  places  we  had  passed.  Count  Arem- 
berg,  the  Governor,  was  said  to  have  been  more 


THE   LIBEEATIOX   OF   HOLLAXD.  299 

merciful  than  some,  although  at  Leeuwarden 
there  had  been  Protestants  burnt  recently  in 
the  market-place. 

It  was  late  in  the  evening,  on  a  Winter  night 
in  December,  (ISGV,)  that  we  reached  this  sea- 
side farm.  We  had  been  skirting  the  great  dyke 
W'hich  kept  off  the  sea,  exposed  to  both  wind 
and  salt  spray  ;  and  Mayken,  generally  a  brave 
little  traveller,  was  tired  and  fretful  with  fatigue 
and  cold,  when  the  cheerful  glimmer  of  lights 
welcomed  us  from  a  low  building  in  the  meadows 
below. 

"  It  is  the  great  barn,"  said  Truyken.  "  What 
can  they  be  doing  there  ?" 

We  approached  cautiously,  and  soon  we  heard 
the  sound  of  singing.  As  we  drew  near  the 
dooi',  the  Avords  became  audible,  although,  in 
that  Frisian  dialect,  not  very  intelligible  to  me. 
I  understood,  however,  that  it  was  a  hymn,  and 
it  seemed  to  me  to  be  a  description  of  the  suffer- 
ings of  some  martyr,  chanted  by  one  voice,  whilst 
the  whole  congregation  took  up  the  chorus  in  a 
response  of  triumph  and  thanksgiving. 

"  Would  you  believe  it  ?"  exclaimed  Truyken. 
"It  is  old  Jacob  Claesen  himself,  my  uncle,  sing- 
ing the  praises  of  the  Anabaptist,  Jeronymus 
Segerson,  who  was  burnt  at  Antwerp.  There 
is  no  relying  on  any  one  in  these  days." 

And  but  for  Mayken's  fatigue,  and  the  lateness 
of  the  hour,  I  believe  Truyken  would  have  left 
the  polluted  spot  at  once  and  for  ever. 


300  THE    LIBERATION"    OF    HOLLAND. 

As  we  stood  there,  however,  a  quiet  benedic- 
tion was  pronounced,  and  the  little  assembly  be- 
gan to  disperse.  They  started  to  see  strangers 
at  the  door  ;  but  Truyken  soon  introduced  her- 
self, and  Ave  were  welcomed  to  the  roof  of  Jacob 
Claesen  and  his  wife  Hadewyk,  with  a  hospitality 
most  generous  in  those  days  of  poverty  and 
peril. 


THE    LIBEUATION    OF    HOLLAND.  301 


II. 

THE  husband  and  wife  were  very  different  in 
character,  as  we  soon  ascertained. 

On  the  next  morning  Truyken  observed  the 
feeble,  tottering  gait  of  the  old  man. 

"  Uncle  Jacob,"  she  said,  "  what  has  happened 
to  you  ?  Not  many  years  since  I  saw  you  a  ro- 
bust man,  as  hearty  as  any  of  your  sons." 

"  I  have  borne  some  portion  of  the  cross,"  he 
re23lied,  gently. 

"  Ask  the  priests  who  gave  him  over  to  the 
rack  for  refusing  to  betray  his  friends,"  said 
Hadewyk,  bitterly,  "how  his  brave  straight 
limbs  are  bent  and  crippled  thus." 

"  It  is  not  many  who  escape  at  all,  wife,"  he 
answered.  "  The  Lord  has  been  very  gracious 
to  His  feeble  servant.  Time  would  soon  have 
done  the  work,  if  the  executioners  had  not." 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  Hadewyk,  impatiently.  "I 
was  not  speaking  of  the  Almighty.  You  always 
bring  every  thing  back  to  Him.  I  cannot  forget 
there  is  another  at  work  in  the  world." 

"  Did  you  suffer  for  the  same  reason  as  the 
26 


302  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

man  you  were  singing  about  last  night,  uncle  ?" 
asked  Truyken,  gloomily. 

"  For  the  truth  !"  lie  said  ;  "  for  worshipping 
with  the  brethren,  and  refusing  to  give  up  their 
names.     I  could  not  do  that." 

"  No,  you  could  not,"  asserted  Truyken, 
decisively,  "  if  you  must  go  amongst  such  people 
at  all.  And  you.  Aunt  Hadewyk,  are  you  too  an 
Anabaptist?"  The  word  seemed  almost  to 
choke  her  utterance. 

"  No,  no,"  said  Hadewyk ;  "  I  am  nothing." 

Truyken  looked  a  little  comforted, 

"  Pladewyk,"  remonstrated  the  old  man,quietly, 
"  how  canst  thou  say  that  to  a  stranger  ?  All 
might  not  understand  thee  as  I  do  !  She  loves 
the  Bible  as  I  do,"  he  said  to  Truyken. 

"The  Bible,  yes,"  allowed  Hadewyk;  "but 
not  the  Anabaptists.  Ladies,"  she  said,  turning 
to  us,  "  because  I  would  not  be  baptized,  they 
wanted  him  to  divorc-e  me.  Could  I  ever  join 
such  Christians  as  those  ?" 

"  Ah,  ah,"  sighed  Truyken  under  her  breath, 
"  they  are  awful  times.  I  have  always  heard 
they  had  more  than  one  wife,  those  Anabaptists." 

"  You  heard  wrong  then,  niece,"  retorted 
Hadewyk,  vehemently  ;  "  do  you  think  my  Jacob 
would  consent  to  such  doings  as  those  ?  People 
should  be  careful  before  they  spread  such 
calumnies,  or  listen  to  them." 

And  Hadewylc  tenderly  arranged  a  chair  for 
the  old  man  in  a  sunny  corner,  between  the  win- 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  303 

dow  and  the  fire,  and  laying  his  Bible  and  his 
spectacles  on  a  small  wooden  table  close  to  it,  led 
him  to  it,  and  proceeded  about  her  household 
work. 

This  little  skirmish  had,  however,  in  some 
unaccountable  way  reconciled  Truyken  to  her 
relations.  She  seemed  to  think  there  were  some 
grains  of  common  sense  left  at  least  in  her  aunt, 
and  accordingly  she  consented  to  accept  their 
hospitality. 

We  were  not  dependent  on  them,  freely  as 
they  offered  that  we  should  be  so.  Many  of  our 
jewels  remained  to  purchase  food  and  comforts 
of  various  kinds,  Truyken's  stout  arm  and  clear 
head  were  of  great  use  about  the  house  and 
farm,  and  Dolores  and  I  delighted  to  render  any 
little  services  we  could. 

In  a  month  we  grew  quite  at  home  in  the 
simple  household. 

To  Mayken  it  was  a  life  of  unmixed  enjoy- 
ment. The  children  of  the  good  couple  had  all 
grown  up  and  settled  away  from  them.  Mayken 
soon  became  installed  in  many  a  little  post  of 
childish  usefulness.  Early  in  the  morning  she 
went  with  Hadewyk  to  feed  the  calves  and 
chickens,  and  all  the  young  creatures,  who  soon 
acquired  for  her  names  and  individual  existence  ; 
and  in  the  evenings  she  delighted  to  sit  on 
Jacob's  knee  and  say  hyms  to  him,  and  listen  to 
his  Bible  stories,  and  prattle  to  him  in  return  of 
her  Antwerp  home. 


304  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

One  morning  I  surprised  my  sister  in  tears,  as 
she  looked  at  the  child  holding  old  Hadewyk's 
hand,  and  in  the  other  a  basket  out  of  which 
sundry  large  fowls  were  eating,  gravely  lecturing 
the  strongest  sometimes  on  their  rapacious  and 
selfish  propensities. 

"  What  are  you  thinkii>g  of,  Dolores  ?"  I  said. 

"  Of  a  cottage  in  a  little  hollow  of  a  plain  in 
Leon,"  she  said ;  "  and  a  faithful  old  servant  who 
used  to  lead  a  little  happy  child  about  among 
the  poultry,  just  as  Iladewyk  is  leading  Mayken 
now." 

"A  little  Spanish  child,"  I  said,  taking  her 
hand  in  mine  ;  "  who  made  herself  a  cripple  a 
few  years  afterwards  to  save  Mayken's  mother  !" 

"  It  was  a  diiferent  scene,"  she  said,  "  the 
golden  light  of  the  southern  Summer  morning 
burning  through  the  vines  and  chestnuts  ;  and 
this  little  farm-yard,  these  wooden  sheds  covered 
with  snow,  and  the  snoW  lying  deep  on  these 
low  meadows,  broken  by  black  ice-pools,  and 
roofed  by  this  heavy  gray  sky,  with  the  sea 
roaring  against  the  dyke  beyond.  And  yet  it 
seemed  like  a  dream  of  the  other ;  but  what  a 
gulf  between !" 

We  lived  very  quietly  among  these  simple, 
kindly  people ;  but  it  was  a  new  life  to  Dolores 
and  to  me,  and  one  that  taught  us,  I  trust,  some 
lessons. 

It  certainly  taught  us  that  the  Anabaptists 
must  be  a  calumniated  people. 


THE    LIBERATION"    OF    HOLLAND.  305 

Those  we  saw,  and  they  were  many,  were 
remarkable  cluefly  for  the  quiet  simplicity  of 
their  faith  and  life.  They  were  Mennonites,  and 
held  it  unscriptural  ever  •  to  resist  oppression. 
And  yet  this  was  plainly  not  from  want  of 
courage,  since  they  confessed  their  faith  as 
boldly  as  if  they  had  been  backed  by  an  army. 
A  poor  and  despised,  but  resolute,  earnest,  and 
much  enduring  people  !  The  hymns  they  sang 
in  their  meethigs  were  frequently  a  kind  of 
religious  ballad,  describing  the  sufferings  and 
triumphant  death  of  some  recent  Anabaptist 
martyr  ;  dwelling  slightly  on  the  sufferings,  but 
long  and  fervently  on  the  glory  which  was  to 
follow.  They  often  touched  us  very  deeply. 
They  lived  in  the  memories  and  hearts  of  the 
peasantry,  like  the  Spanish  ballads  of  the  con- 
tests between  Infidel  and  Crusader  anions:  the 
peasantry  of  Spain.  I?ut  the  contest  was  on 
higher  ground,  and  the  poor  ignorant  martyr- 
victors  were  nobler  than  many  a  heroic  Cid  or 
knight,  indignant  as  the  latter  would  have  been 
at  the  comparison.  I  must  confess,  however, 
that  our  new  friends  the  Mennonites,  like  many 
other  Christians,  often  shone  more  at  the  stake 
than  in  the  ordinary  trials  of  temper  of  every- 
day life.  There  was  an  unaccountable  degree 
of  severity  and  bitterness  about  many  of  them 
on  small  points  of  discipline.  It  seemed  as  if 
the  pugnacity  which  they  disclaimed  towards 
their  persecutors  had  all  been  turned  inward 
26* 


306  THE    LIBEEATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

amonsx  themselves.  The  divisions  amoncj  them 
quite  sm-passecl  my  miderstanding  or  memory. 
It  was  difficult  often  to  discover  how  they  began, . 
and  impossible  for  strangers  to  comprehend 
their  complication  as  they  proceeded,  because, 
as  in  so  many  quarrels,  they  never  seemed  to 
end  at  all  near  the  point  which  was  the  primary 
cause  of  debate.  Excommunications  were  very 
frequent  among  them :  excommunications  which 
demanded,  as  Hadewyk  had  said,  the  separation 
of  a  wife  from  an  excommunicated  husband, 
and  of  a  husband  from  an  excommunicated 
wife  ;  excommunications  of  one  another,  because 
they  could  not  agree  on  the  basis  of  excom- 
municating other  people.  And  all  this  in  a 
community  which  no  one  joined  except  at  the 
risk  of  being  burned  or  drowned  ! 

The  lament  of  one  of  their  number,  Job  John- 
son, seemed  to  me  very  touching. 

"  O  God,"  he  wrote,  "  how  have  we  poor 
creatures  suffered  ourselves  to  be  misled  whilst 
we  searched  the  Scriptures,  out  of  a  spirit  of  di- 
vision and  hatred,  not  out  of  love  of  peace  and 
unity.  O  Lord,  grant  me  Thy  grace,  that,  being 
freed  from  this  madness  and  confusion,  I  may 
dwell  but  half  a  year  in  some  quiet  and  solitary 
place ;  then  will  I  be  ready  to  sacrifice  my  body 
for  my  faith." 

And  this  poor  man  had  his  desire ;  for  retreat- 
ing from  Friesland,  he  spent  one  quiet  Summer 
at  a  village  near  the  Brill  in  Zealand,  and  in  the 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAKD.  307 

Autumn  w.is  apprehended  and  executed  for  his 
faith  at  the  Hague. 

Old  Jacob  Claesen  told  us  of  this  one  January 
evening  when  he  had  been  much  harassed  by 
some  debates  in  his  presence  during  the  day. 
I  had  not  thought  it  kind  to  speak  to  him  on  the 
subject  of  those  divisions,  but  now  I  ventured 
to  tell  him  how  they  perplexed  me. 

"No  wonder!"  he  said,  ''no  wonder!" 

Then  Dolores  spoke  out  on  the  subject  as  I 
had  not  heard  her  before.    We  three  were  alone. 

"If  you  could  know  the  wretched  doubts  and 
conflicts  I  went  through  when  first  we  came 
from  Spain !  There  we  had  no  divisions.  The 
enemy  was  too  near  and  too  powerful,  and  our 
own  love  and  faith  were  too  fresh.  Danger 
kept  us  in  constant  dependence  on  God,  and  He 
bound  us  to  one  another,  so  that  in  my  inex- 
perience I  habitually  thought  of  the  Reformed 
and  the  Catholics  as  the  Church  and  the  Avorld 
— the  army  of  Satan  on  one  side,  armed  with 
fire  and  swoi'd  and  rack ;  the  army  of  Christ  on 
the  other,  armed  only  with  His  cross,  and  clothed 
in  His  white  raiment.  I  pictured  to  myself  the 
great  northern  cities,  where  the  evangelical  rule 
was  accepted  by  thousands,  as  so  many  heavenly 
Jerusalems,  full  of  holiness  and  peace  and  love." 

"And  you  did  not  find  Antwerp  that  ?"  said 
Jacob,  with  a  grave  smile. 

"  No,  indeed !  It  was  like  expecting  to  come 
into  a  temple,  and  finding  an  exchange,  a  Babel." 


oOS  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

"Ah,  well !"  said  the  old  man ;  "  there  is  a 
long  Avay  between  the  1st  chaptei*  of  the  Acts 
and  the  1st  chapter  of  the  First  Epistle  to  the 
Corinthians,  between  'the  multitude  of  them 
that  believed  were  of  one  heart  and  one  soul,' 
and  '  whereas  there  is  among  you  envying  and 
strife  and  divisions.'  There  is  a  long  way  again 
between  '  One  saith,  I  am  of  Paul,  and  another, 
I  am  of  Apollos,'  and  the  new  song  of  the  'great 
multitude  who  have  washed  their  robes  and 
made  them  Avhite  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb.' 
And,  daughter,"  he  added,  laying  his  feeble 
hand  on  hers,  "  is  there  not  too  often  a  long  way 
between  our  morning  prayers,  and  our  daily 
living?" 

"  But  the  disunion  among  Protestants,  and 
amongst  every  sect  of  Protestants,  must  repel 
so  many  Catholics  from  us.  Why  must  reading 
the  Bible  bring  these  divisions  ?"  I  asked. 

"For  one  reason,"  he  said,  "  I  suppose  because 
it  brings  life;  and  a  machine  has  always  more 
unity  in  its  action  than  the  most  disciplined  body 
of  living  men." 

"Must  truth,  then,  and  the  free  action  of  con- 
science always  lead  to  disunion  ?" 

"I  think  truth  and  the  sense  of  individual 
res^^onsibility  to  God,  from  which  no  one  can 
free  us,  must  always  among  fallen  men  break  up 
uniformity,"  he  said ;  "  at  least  I  have  seen  it  so. 
It  caused  me  bitter  pain  once.  But  I  will  tell 
you  how  I  was  comforted.     T  lay  in  prison  for 


THE   LIBEEATIOK   OP   HOLLAND.  309 

I'^fusing  to  .1(1  ore  the  Host,  as  they  call  it.     I 
had  sutFered  much,  as  Hadewyk  told  you,  be- 
cause I  would  not  betray  my  fellow-believers ; 
but  the  torture  of  ray  body  seemed  little  to  the 
pain  it  gave  me  when  I  thought  of  the  divisions 
among  the  brethren.     I  suppose  the  malignant 
one  Avho  foments  divisions  came  in  my  hour  of 
weakness  to  torment  me  Math  them.     'ThouQ-h 
I  give  my  body  to  be  burned,  and  have  not 
love;'  and  'by  this  shall  all  men  know  ye  are 
my  disciples,'  came    rushing  through  my  poor 
bewildered  brain,  not  in  tones  of  love,  but  as  in 
letters  of  lightning  and  with  the  roar  of  thunder, 
mitil  I  fell  into  a  kind  of.  feverish  sleep,  which 
was  not  altogether  sleep.     And  then  I  seemed  to 
see  a  gorgeous  cathedral,  like  the  one  they  sacked 
at  Antwerp,  with  gilded  spires  and  jiinnacles, 
and  richly  decorated   with  carved  work,   with 
thousands   of  people  thronging  into  it,  whilst 
over  the  door  was  written  in  letters  formed  with 
colored   lamps,   '  The    one    only  Holy  Catholic 
Church.'     Passing  through  this  throng  in  a  con- 
trary direction,  away  from  the  cathedral,  I  saw 
a  few  poor  men  and  women  and  children.   Every 
one  seemed  angry  with  them  for  thus  interrupt- 
ing the  current. 

"  '  Where  are  you  going  ?'  I  asked. 
"  '  To  the  New  Church,'  was  the  reply, '  which 
"is,  nevertheless,  the  oldest  of  all.' 

"  I  followed  them,  but,  to  my  surprise,  when 
I  reached  the  spot  to  which  they  were  so  perse- 


310  THE   LIBERATION    OF   HOLLAND. 

veringly  hastening,  I  found  not  a  chnrch  but  a 
quarry — stones  lying  about  in  apparent  disorder, 
■workmen  hammering,  others  sawing  and  chisel- 
ing, and  not  a  few  hotly  discussing  how  the  work 
should  be  done.  There  was  all  the  activity  of  a 
workshop. 

"  '  Where  is  the  church  ?'  I  asked. 

"  '  Do  you  not  see  ?'  the  workmen  said  ;  '  we 
are  building  it  as  fast  as  we  can  !' 

"  I  was  much  perplexed ;  when,  I  suppose,  the 
vision  of  the  dreaded  flames  which  had  been  be- 
fore me  so  many  days  mingled  with  the  former 
dream,  and  from  all  quarters  of  the  city  there 
seemed  to  burst  forth  a  great  conflagration.  The 
flames  and  smoke  rolled  on  to  the  cathedral,  and 
enveloped  it.  Torrents  of  smoke  and  pinnacles 
of  flame  curled  around  the  gilded  minarets ;  and 
in  a  few  minutes,  to  my  amazement,  the  whole 
magnificent  edifice  came  down  with  a  crash.  It 
was  of  wood,  and  the  fire  declared  it.  But  as  I 
looked,  I  saw  the  angels  among  the  flames  bear- 
ing away  many  a  fair  stone  and  costly  jewel  from 
the  ruins ;  and  when  I  turned  to  look  at  the 
builder's  yard,  a  glorious  temple  rose,  white  as 
snow,  amidst  the  flames,  which  closed  around 
it,  but  could  not  blacken  one  of  its  glistening 
stones.  And  in  it  I  saw  the  angels  had  laid 
many  a  stone  from  among  the  ruins  of  the  old 
cathedral." 

"  I  see !"  said  Dolores,  "  the  Church  is  build- 
ing.    It  is  not  built.     We  are  still  in  a  quarry." 


THE   LIBERATION   OF    HOLLAND.  311 

"And  the  next  morning,"  pursued  the  old 
man,  "  I  was  rescued  from  prison  through  the 
efforts  of  some  of  the  very  brethren  whose 
divisions  had  so  harassed  me." 

"  But  it  is  a  pity,"  said  Dolores,  "  when  the 
workmen  will  busy  themselves  in  building  lit- 
tle churches  in  the  quarry,  instead  of  preparing 
the  stones  for  the  great  Church  God  is  build- 
mg." 

"  And  yet,"  said  I,  "  surely  the  Church  ought 
to  be  a  visible,  audible  witness  for  Christ  on 
earth." 

"Certainly,"  said  Jacob.  "  'By  this  shall  all 
men  know  ;'  the  living  light  which  makes  the 
Church  visible  to  the  world  is  love.  By  faith  the 
Church  sees  the  Lord,  By  love  she  makes  her 
light,  which  is  His  light,  seen  of  men." 

This  conversation  in  some  measure  comforted 
Dolores  .and  me.  But  our  great  anxiety  was 
about  Truyken,  I  was  so  afraid  the  divisions 
amongst  us  might  repel  her  from  the  truth. 
One  day,  therefore,  I  tried  to  explain  things  to 
her,  and  prove  that  we  loved  each  other  really, 
and  were  really  one  in  spite  of  our  differences. 
But  I  found  Truyken  not  at  all  perplexed  on  the 
subject. 

"  I  think  the  Protestants  are  rather  a  quarrel- 
some family,"  she  said  ;  "  but  I  can  see  they  hang 
together  like  any  other  family  when  trouble 
comes.  And,"  she  continued,  "  I  think  heresy 
is  a  bad  thing  ;  but  I  think  my  Uncle  Jacob  is 


312  THE   LIBERATION   OF   HOLLAND. 

the  best  man  I  ever  saw,  except  the  master  ;  and 
so  I  suppose  we  shall  all  have  a  great  deal  to 
learn  and  to  imlearn  in  the  next  world."  And 
with  this  vague  admission  Truyken  broke  up 
the  dialogue. 


THE   LIBEEATION   OF   HOLLAND.  313 


III. 


s* 


Jiine  &th,  Jacob  Claesen's  Farm. 

AND  so  my  note-book  begins.  Daily,  I  cer- 
tainly need  not  write  in  it,  here  in  this  qniet 
corner  of  the  world ;  but  to-day  has  brought 
great  news. 

This  morning,  Mayken  and  I  were  watching 
the  storks  feeding  their  young  ones  in  their  nest 
on  the  roof  of  the  farm ;  and  old  Jacob,  sitting 
in  the  svm  at  the  door,  had  been  telling  her  how, 
only  four  and  thirty  years  ago,  in  the  great  fire 
at  Delft,  the  parent  storks  bore  their  nestlings 
through  the  flames  from  the  burning  houses,  or, 
if  unable  to  do  that,  perished  with  them  rather 
than  desert  their  nests ;  when  a  travel-worn 
man  entered  the  court  of  the  house. 

"  Seiiora  Costanza  van  Rosevelt,"  he  said  look- 
ing at  me,  "  I  have  a  message  for  you,  or  rather 
this  has  ;"  and  he  gave  me  his  walking-stick, 
with  a  smile. 

In  a  minute  the  mystery  was  imravelled,     A 
little  plug  was  removed  from  the  bottom  of  the 
Btickj  and  from  the  hollow  above,  the  messenger 
27 


314  THE   LIBEEATION    OF   HOLLAND. 

shot  out  a  roll  of  manuscript.  It  was  from 
Mark,  written  in  a  cipher  we  had  used  before  in 
Spain. 

I  ran  up  stairs  to  thank  God,  before  I  could 
read  a  word.  It  was  short,  so  short  that  I  soon 
knew  it  by  heart.     It  began — 

"  This  is  the  fifth  letter  I  have  sent  thee,  my 
beloved,  and  not  a  word  of  reply.  But  now 
that  the  country  is  free  of  the  enemy,  perchance 
this  may  reach  thee.  I  write  on  the  battle-field 
at  Heiliger  Lee,  the  day  after  the  great  victory 
of  Count  Louis.  The  messenger  will  tell  you 
the  rest.  I  have  been  through  the  cities  of  Bra- 
bant and  Flanders,  collecting  money  for  the 
Prince's  expedition.  He  has  pawned  all  his 
plate  and  jewels.  The  great  cities  seem  afraid 
to  contribute.  The  Prince  was  deeply  moved 
a  few  days  since  by  a  poor  Anabaptist  j^reacher 
from  North  Holland,  who  came  through  many  a 
peril  to  bring  the  contribution  of  his  little  flock. 
The  Prince  gave  him  a  receipt ;  but  he  said  they 
desired  no  payment,  but  only  that  they  might 
be  remembered  in  kindness. 

"  Such  money  must,  I  think,  do  much ;  and 
the  prayers  which  come  with  it  yet  more.  We 
are  full  of  hope. 

"  Do  not  let  Mayken  forget  her  Spanish.  Some 
morning  (who  knows  how  soon)  I  may  come  to 
take  the  lady  of  Rosevelt  to  her  castle  in  free 
Holland,  where  Dolores  and  Ursel,  and  thou  and 
I  and  Mayken,  will  worship  together  in  the  little 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  315 

parish  church  near  us,  and  sing  hymns  and  Hsten 
to  the  Word  of  God  in.  a  language  the  peas- 
ants can  understand,  while  none  shall  make  us 
afraid. 

"  Together,  tell  Ursel ! 

"E\er  thine  own." 

When  I  returned,  to  ray  surprise,  I  found  Do- 
lores in  earnest  conversation  with  the  Seigneur 
de  Clairvaux,  and  Mayken  by  her  side.  In  my 
agitation  I  had  not  even  thought  who  the  mes- 
senger might  be. 

"  I  am  with  the  Prince,  Senora,  you  see,"  he 
said,  kissing  my  hand.  "  I  followed  your  advice." 

His  whole  bearing  seemed  changed.  The 
hopeless,  reckless  look  was  gone,  and  the  steady 
light  of  a  high  purpose  shone  in  his  eyes. 

He  had  much  to  tell  us  of  the  fiery  Count 
Louis,  who  seemed  more  his  hero  than  even  the 
Prince ;  and  his  brother,  the  brave  young  Count 
Adolphus,  of  Nassau,  who  fell  in  a  hand-to-hand 
encounter  with  the  defeated  commander  of  the 
enemy,  Count  Aremberg.  And  Mark,  he  says, 
is  of  such  service,  and  cannot  be  spared  a  day  ! 
That  I  knew  must  be.  He  lingered  long,  but  we 
could  not  induce  him  to  stay  the  night. 

His  conversation  was  mostly  addressed  to  me. 
He  had  so  much  to  tell  me  about  my  husband ; 
but  as  he  left,  he  said  to  Dolores  : 

"  I  have  read  the  book  every  day.  It  is  dif- 
ferent from  any  other  religious  book  I  ever  read. 


316  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

It  seems  to  breathe  of  the  fresh  air ;  not  of  the 
incense  and  the  cold  dim  atmosphere  inside 
churches.  It  seems  to  be  for  every  day,  not  for 
festivals  only ;  and  yet  is  is  so  heavenly !" 

"  But  there  are  other  portions  of  the  Book 
of  God  besides  this  one,"  said  Dolores. 

"  Yes,"  he  said.  "  I  have  bought  a  Testa- 
ment. But  the  other  I  can  carry  about  with  me 
everywhere." 

Mayken,  usually  unapproachable  by  stran- 
gers, gave  him  her  hand ;  as  he  left,  and  said, 

"  Tell  my  father  to  seud  you  with  his  letter 
next  time." 

He  smiled  and  left  us. 

December  20,  1568. — Terrible  news  has  come 
to  us  throughout  this  Summer.  I  have  scarcely 
had  the  heart  to  write  at  all.  On  June  5th,  the 
very  day  we  spent  so  happily  at  this  quiet  farm, 
with  the  Seigneur  de  Clairvaux,  reading  Mark's 
letter,  and  talking  over  all  the  bright  hopes  that 
seemed  to  open  before  us,  what  a  scene  was 
passing  at  Brussels  !  The  Great  Square  thronged 
with  people,  and  in  the  midst  the  Spanish  sol- 
diers and  the  scaffold,  hung  with  black,  and 
Count  Egmont  (to  the  last  deeming  his  hard 
fate  impossible)  beheaded  with  Count  Horn ; 
and  then  for  weeks  the  mourners  crowding 
round  the  murdered  body  of  their  hero,  Egmont, 
while  the  corpse  of  the  less  popular  Count  Horn, 
lay  alone  and  unhonoured  near.     The  victory  of 


THE    LIBEKATIOX    OF    HOLLAXD.  317 

Heiliger  Lee  enraged  the  Duke  of  Alva,  and 
precipitated  the  fote  of  these  unfortunate,  base- 
ly-betrayed noblemen.  And  yet  their  death  was 
no  martyrdom.  They  had  served  the  king  faith- 
fully, and  he  slew  them.  They  had  not  served 
their  country  faithfully,  and  yet  it  mourned  them. 
But  the  victory  which  brought  death  to  them 
has  brought  little  help  to  us.  Only  two  months 
afterwards,  on  July  the  20th, Count  Louis  and  the 
army  which  gained  it,  sustained  that  terrible  de- 
feat at  Jemmingen.  Cooped  up  in  a  peninsula 
between  the  Ems  and  the  bay  of  the  Dollart, 
they  were  massacred  by  thousands.  And  Count 
Louis  only  escaped  by  swimming  through  the 
river,  when  all  his  efforts  to  rally  his  men  had 
failed,  and  hope  was  over.  Then  the  misery  to 
the  country  which  followed ;  so  unutterably 
horrible,  that  even  Alva  rebuked  the  relentless 
Spanish  mercenaries  !  Flames  and  ashes ;  the 
whole  land  one  funeral  pile.  Fugitives  fled  to 
us  from  many  directions ;  until  the  little  farm 
has  become  quite  an  orphanage.  One  hope 
seemed  to  remain  ;  the  Prince  was  levying  an 
army,  on  which  he  had  spent  his  last  resources. 
To-day,  however,  I  have  received  a  letter  from 
Mark  which  tells  me  the  fate  of  this.  It  is 
dated  from  France. 

"  My  Love — Do  not  desjjair  when  you  read 
this.  The  Prince  does  not.  Xor  do  I.  The 
people  of  the  Netherlands  give  like  those  in  the 


318  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

temple  of  old — the  rich  sparingly  from  their 
abundance,  the  poor  abundantly  their  mite — 
which  is  their  all.  Of  300,000  crowns  promised 
the  Prince  from  the  great  cities,  only  12,000 
reached  us  ;  but  poor  persecuted  congregations, 
Lutheran,  Reformed,  and  Anabaptists,  and  half- 
starving  exiles,  scraped  together  all  they  had  to 
aid  their  defender.  He  deserved  it,  for  he  gave 
all  he  had  for  them,  and  has  lost  it  in  this  fatal 
campaign.  Nevertheless,  the  army  was  raised. 
On  October  the  4th  and  5th,  we  crossed  the 
Meuse  with  a  German  array  into  Brabant,  Avhere 
Red  Rod  Spelle  had  been  hanging  and  bui-ning 
since  the  defeat  of  Jemmingen,  With  banners 
flying,  and  the  motto  on  them,  '  Pro  lege,  rege, 
grege,'  we  advanced  ;  but  the  poor,  cowed  citi- 
zens were  afraid  to  join  us.  And  no  wonder. 
The  Duke  of  Alva  would  not  fight  us;  and  in  a 
month  the  German  mercenaries,  harassed  by  con- 
tinual skirmishing  and  preparations  for  battles 
which  never  came,  were  unmanageable  for  want 
of  pay.  The  whole  army  melted  away ;  and, 
almost  alone  and  quite  penniless,  the  Prince  and 
Count  Louis,  with  a  few  followers,  have  taken 
refuge  in  France.  Yet  I  do  not  despair.  I  can- 
not, while  God  spares  us  the  Prince.  Under- 
stand me,  my  love.  I  know  all  must  be  well  for 
the  living  Church,  because  the  living  God,  the 
merciful  Saviour  reigns.  But  I  hope  all  may  yet 
be  well  for  our  country,  because  He  has  given  us 
the  Prince.     Otherwise,  I  would  say,  Let  us  fly 


THE    LIBERATION    OE    HOLLAND.  319 

to  England  at  once.  For,  except  in  the  Prince 
of  Orange,  I  see  not  one  gleam  of  hope.  All 
princes  and  kings  are  against  us ;  at  least,  not 
one  will  hft  an  arm  for  us.  The  emperor  has 
deserted  us.  The  Protestant  German  princes 
counsel  peace,  which  means  liberty  to  Alva  and 
his  army  to  reduce  the  land  to  a  wilderness. 
The  battle  of  Jemmingen  was  fought  against  the 
Prince's  advice  ;  but  he  never  complained  nor  re- 
jDroached  his  brother.  '  Since  it  has  thus  pleased 
God,'  he  wn-ote  to  him,  '  it  is  necessary  to  have 
patience,  and  not  to  lose  courage,  conforming 
ourselves  to  His  Divine  will ;  as,  for  ray  part,  I 
have  determined  to  do  in  every  thing  which  may 
happen,  still  proceeding  onward  in  our  work, 
with  His  almighty  aid.'  And  now  it  is  the  same. 
The  Seigneur  de  Clairvaux  is  a  great  comfort. 
He  thinks  you  like  a  Madonna,  and  Dolores  like 
a  Spanish  St.  Cecilia.  To  me  he  is  like  a  brother. 
He  says  you  seem  to  regard  him  as  a  boy  of 
twenty,  while  he  is  more  than  thirty.  He  is 
sustained  by  the  only  strength  which  can  carry 
men  through  a  conflict  such  as  this.  We  read 
the  Word  of  God  often  together.  He  would 
have  taken  this  to  you  at  any  peril,  but  I  per- 
suaded him  to  save  himself  for  the  service  of  the 
country.  All  true  men  are  sorely  needed  now. 
Trust  God,  my  love.  Kiss  Mayken  for  me.  Do 
not  let  her  forget  me  ;  and  keep  up  heart,  my 
love.  I  have  always  thought  the  help  would 
come  when  we  were  at  the  lowest.     M.  v.  R." 


320  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

"The  Seigneur  de  Clairvaux  is  very  devoted 
to  my  husband,  Truyken,"  I  said,  this  evening. 

"  Very,"  she  rephed.  "  But  there  are  people 
besides  my  master  in  the  world." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Truyken?" 

"  I  mean  that  my  master  cannot  be  the  centre 
of  all  things  upon  earth  to  every  one.  The  Se- 
iiora  Dolores" 

"  Truyken  !   Dolores  !"—— 

But  a  light  flashed  on  me,  and  I  did  not  finish 
my  sentence.  Although  to  me  Dolores  had  so 
long  been  like  a  mother,  she  is  certainly  not  old 
enough  for  that  dignity. 

And  what  wonder !  That  noble,  gentle  sister, 
whose  generous  affectionate  nature  is  stamped 
on  her  whole  countenance  !  But  could  she  care 
for  him?  In  Spain  she  would  never  listen  to 
any  one ;  and  these  are  scarcely  times  for 
forming  new  ties.  And  yet  Mark  and  I  mar- 
ried. 

Is  it,  then,  so  very  j^lain  to  Truyken  and  to 
every  one  that  Mark  is  the  centre  of  the  world 
to  me.  I  am  sure  I  never  speak  of  him  much. 
But  he  cannot  be  more  to  me  than  God  meant 
him  to  be.  It  is  not  loving  too  much  that  is 
idolatry,  but  loving  too  little — centering  all  in , 
self,  instead  of  in  God.  It  is  the  taint  of  selfish- 
ness, not  the  too  much  loving,  that  makes  love 
idolatry.  Here  or  hereafter  Mark  and  I  will 
praise  God  again  together.  But  I  believe  it  will 
be  here. 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  321 

e/i/ne,  1569. — Another  Winter  has  passed.  The 
swallows  have  returned  ;  the  old  pair  of  storks 
are  building  their  nests  on  the  old  cart-wheel, 
set  for  them  on  the  roof  of  the  farmhouse.  May- 
ken  feels  sure  they  know  her  again,  and  is  full 
of  glee  at  the  recovery  of  her  playmates. 

The  burst  of  the  northern  Spring  is  so  joyous 
and  inspiring !  -  I  am  just  like  Mayken.  I  can 
never  help  being  full  of  hope  when  the  snow 
trickles  from  the  roofs,  and  the  black  ice  begins 
to  thaw  on  the  jdooIs,  and  life  to  swell  in  the 
brown  leaf-buds,  until,  in  a  few  days,  the  woods 
and  orchards  are  rustling  with  green  leaves  and 
delicate  blossoms,  and  the  meadows  are  gay  with 
grass  and  flowers ;  when  every  thing  is  set  free 
from  its  wintry  prison ;  bright- Avinged  insects 
flashing  from  their  shelly  coffins  into  the  sun- 
shine ;  sheep  bleating,  and  cattle  lowing,  liber- 
ated from  the  sheds  and  stalls ;  birds  singing 
their  home-songs  in  the  shade.  Then  I  feel  the 
Duke  of  Alva  cannot  crush  the  land  for  ever  ! 
There  must  be  liberation  yet  in  store  for  us  all, 
and  sunny  days  and  peaceful  homes.  But  when 
I  say  so  to  old  Jacob,  he  smiles  as  I  smile  at 
Mayken,  and  says : 

,    "Yes,  there  is  liberation  in  store  for  us,  and 
spring-time,  and  a  peaceful  home." 

I  know  he  feels  that  life  and  earth  are  the 
night-time,  the  chrysalis  state,  the  prison.  But  I 
think  God  gives  us  many  foretastes  of  the  prom- 
ised land  in  the  wilderness,  if  we  will  take  them. 


322  THE    LIBERATION"    OF    HOLLAND. 

October,  1569. — A  sad,  sad  year  it  has  been  for 
thousands.  Mark  has  been  incessantly  engaged 
on  various  missions  for  the  Prince  of  Orange  in 
France  and  Germany.  But  throughout  the  year, 
the  Duke  of  Alva,  his  blood-council,  and  his 
army,  have  been  confiscating,  desolating,  murder- 
ing, torturing  at  their  pleasure.  There  were, 
indeed,  official  rejoicings,  interrupting  the  else 
unbroken  knells  v/ith  ghastly  peals  of  victory. 
The  Great  Square  of  Brussels  was,  for  a  few 
days,  transformed  from  a  scaffold,  or  a  place  of 
martyrdom,  into  a  gay  tourney-ring ;  and  from 
the  windows  round  the  place,  eyes,  which  had 
wept  tears  of  anguish  foi  murdered  fathers  and 
brothers,  were  expected  to  beam  encouragement 
on  the  sportive  feats  of  Spanish  soldiers,  who 
had  been  their  murderers. 

In  Antwerp,  also,  there  was  more  than  one 
great  festival.  The  citadel,  which  liad  been  built 
w^th  the  money  and  toil  of  the  enslaved  and 
ruined  citizens,  was  finished ;  and  the  Duke  in- 
augurated there  with  much  pomp  a  statue  of 
himself,  trampling  on  a  prostrated  four-headed 
figure  intended  to  represent  the  Netherlands. 
Moreover,  the  Great  Square  there  was  decorated 
as  for  a  triumph.  A  platform,  decorated  with 
royal  arms,  and  covered  with  cloth  of  gold,  was 
erected  ;  and  on  it  was  placed  a  throne,  on  which 
Alva  sat  in  state,  supported  by  two  Antwerp 
women  allegoricaliy  clad  to  represent  Right- 
eousness and  Peace.     Then  a  pardon  was  pro- 


THE    LIBEKATION    OF    HOLLAND.  323 

claimed ;  a  royal  pai-clon  fresh  from  Spain,  There 
were  a  few  exceptions  to  it :  such  as  "  all  who 
had  ever  been  suspected  of  heresy,  and  all  who 
had  failed  to  denounce  any  whom  they  knew  to 
be  heretics."  The  Duke  was  greatly  disap- 
pointed, it  is  said,  with  the  i*esult  of  this  gracious 
proclamation.  Many  of  the  people  were  so  per- 
verse as  to  consider  it  a  mockery,  and  to  call 
this  royal  Pardona  Pandora,  the  source  of  end- 
less woes.  They  had  profanely  corrupted  the 
title  of  a  similar  edict  of  the  Duchess  Margaret's, 
from  Moderation  to  Murderation.  The  Duke, 
and  all  loyal  subjects  of  King  Philip,  could  see 
at  once,  from  such  symptoms  of  hopeless  ingrat- 
itude, hov/  vain  it  was  to  employ  clemency  with 
a  nation  so  depraved ! 

Meantime  we  receive  all  the  fugitives  we  can 
at  the  farm.  Mayken  has  certainly  no  want  of 
play-fellows  now.  I  smile  sometimes  when  I  see 
her  leading  the  games  of  a  dozen  little  rescued 
orphans,  and  hear  their  happy  laughter  echoing 
through  the  fields,  to  think  of  my  plans  of  pro- 
viding her  with  companions.  If  Mark  could 
only  be  here,  I  should  scarcely  wish  for  another 
home.  On  the  Summer  evenings  it  is  so  sweet 
-  to  see  the  little  ones  gather  around  old  Jacob  a* 
the  door,  while  he  reads  a  few  verses  from  the 
Bible,  and  utters  a  few  simple  words  of  prayer ; 
and  the  little  family  service  ends  with  a  hymn 
from  the  childish  voices.  Sweet  and  cheering! 
yet  heartrending,  if  one   thinks  of  how  many 


324  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

desolated  homes  these  httle  ones  are  the  rel- 
ics. 

I  notice  that  Truyken  is  never  absent  from 
this  family  worship.  At  first  she  used  to  sit  at 
the  edge  of  the  circle,  on  the  plea  of  quieting 
some  refractory  child,  but  now  she  comes  as  a 
matter  of  course  ;  and  more  than  once,  as  I  have 
watched  her  earnest,  absorbed  face,  I  have  seen 
her  brush  tears  away. 

February,  1570. — Another  Winter  is  fast  melt- 
ing away.  Mark  has  not  been  able  to  come  and 
see  us.  Once  he  made  his  way  through  part  of 
Brabant,  but  he  and  the  Seigneur  de  Clairvaux 
were  taken  prisoners  by  a  troop  of  Alva's  sol- 
diers, and  only  escaped  by  borrowing  some 
skates  of  a  friendly  peasant  Avhile  the  troop  were 
asleep,  and  gliding  across  the  river  into  Ger- 
many again.  The  sentinel  fired  after  them,  and 
wounded  Mark  in  the  arm,  but  not  se\erely. 
Since  then,  Mark  has  been  collecting  money 
among  the  cities  of  Flanders ;  and  the  Seigneur 
de  Clairvaux  has  taken  the  command  of  one  of 
the  ships  belonging  to  the  Water  Gueux.  Mark 
writes  : 

"  The  endeavor  to  reclaim  to  fair  and  patriotic 
warfare  these  beggars  of  the  sea,  is  the  Prince's 
great  occupation  at  present ;  and  his  chief  ener- 
gies this  year  are  directed  to  organizing  them 
into  a  navy ;  no  easy  task,  out  of  the  elements 
of  a  wild  baud  of  corsairs,  driven  to  piracy  by 


THE   LIBERATION   OF   HOLLAND.  325 

tyranny  and  oppression.  The  greatest  service  a 
trustworthy  and  vahant  seigneur  acquainted  with 
the  sea  can  do  the  country  now,  is  to  undertake 
the  command  of  one  of  these  privateers,  in  place 
of  the  daring  but  reckless  and  savage  men,  who 
too  often  sully  their  victories  with  cruelties  al- 
most rivaling  those  of  Alva.  The  Prince  has 
given  orders  that  every  ship  to  which  he  gives 
letters  of  marque  shall  maintain  a  Protestant 
chaplain  on  board,  observe  the  articles  of  war, 
and  attack  none  but  Alva  and  his  adherents. 
Our  chief  hope  at  present  lies  in  despair.  The 
Duke's  tax  of  the  tenth  penny  on  every  article 
sold,  to  be  paid  by  the  vender,  is  so  sure  to 
bring  the  country  to  utter  ruin,  that  in  many 
districts  of  Brabant,  for  instance,  we  found  the 
shops  shut,  the  breweries  and  factories  idle,  and 
even  the  bakers  refusing  to  bake.  I  think  the 
Duke  of  Alva  and  the  Prince  together  will  save 
the  country  yet." 

March,  1570. — A  few  words  from  some  of  the 
letters  of  the  martyrs  in  j^rison  have  comforted 
me  lately  much.  I  will  transcribe  them.  The 
first  are  from  Jeronymus  Segerson  to  his  wife, 
and  these  touched  me  more  than  any.  They 
were  imprisoned  together  at  Antwerp,  although 
not  in  the  same  cell,  in  1551  ;  but  they  did  not 
die  together.  Many  of  their  letters  during  their 
imprisonment  are  handed  about  among  the  Ana- 
baptist congregations  here.  Many  tears  have  I 
28 


326  THE   LIBERATION    OP    HOLLAND. 

shed  over  those  true  and  tender  words,  written 
by  fingers  made  feeble  and  trembling  in  the 
l^rime  of  life  by  rack  and  torture.  The  rever- 
ence and  tenderness  with  which  this  poor  Ana- 
baptist writes  to  his  wife  Lysken  seem  to  me  so 
much  nobler  and  more  beautiful  than  any  high- 
flown  words  of  romance.  "  Grace,  peace,  glad- 
ness, joy,  and  comfort,"  he  writes,  "  a  firm  faith, 
good  confidence,  with  an  ardent  love  to  God,  I 
wish  to  my  most  beloved  wife  Lysken,  whom  I 
married  in  the  presence  of  God  and  His  holy 
Church.  I  pray  the  Lord  very  earnestly  for 
you,  that  lie  will  comfort  you,  and  remove  what 
is  too  heavy  for  you.  I  know  well,  my  chosen 
lamb,  that  you  are  greatly  dejected  on  my  ac- 
count :  but  put  away  all  sorrow,  and  look  to 
Jesus,  Think  only  what  a  faithful  God  we  serve. 
Know  that  I  received  your  letter  by  my  mother, 
which  I  read  with  tears.  I  thank  you  that  you 
so  heartily  comfort  me ;  and  I  rejoice  in  hearing 
that  you  are  so  well  contented. 

"  I  cannot  sufiiciently  thank  the  Lord  for  all 
the  strength  He  gives  me  in  this  trial.  He  is 
such  a  faithful  leader ;  He  gives  His  servants 
such  courage ;  strengthens  them  so  that  they 
do  not  fear.  Let  us  guard  the  precious  treasure 
(of  faith),  for  we  have  it  in  earthen  vessels,  and 
cannot  hide  it.  It  everywhere  discovers  itself, 
and  is  much  too  precious  to  be  concealed.  We 
are  so  joyful  having  this  treasure,  which  is  our 
faith,  hope,  and  love.     It  is  of  such  a  nature  that 


THE    LIBERATIOX    OF    HOLLAND.  327 

it  cannot  be  hidden.  The  one  (in  the  j)i"ison) 
Calls  to  the  other,  and  pours  out  his  treasure  so 
that  it  may  be  seen.  We  are  so  happy,  ever- 
lasting praise  to  the  Lord!  We  call  upon  Him, 
we  sing  together,  we  experience  great  joy  in 
comforting  and  strengthening  each  other. 

"I  also  have  seen  from  afar  that  promised 
land.  I  also  hope  soon  to  enter  the  beautiful 
city,  so  richly  adorned,  which  the  Apostle  John 
describes.     There  is  no  night  there. 

"  Therefore,  my  dear  wife,  look  diligently  that 
you  pass  the  time  of  your  pilgrimage  here  with 
fear  and  trembling.  Not  that  we  should  fear  the 
world ;  but  we  must  fear  and  tremble  before 
the  Lord,  so  that  we  may  keep  His  command- 
ments. 

"  May  the  Almighty  God  so  strengthen  you 
with  His  blessed  Word  that  yon  may  abide 
faithful  to  the  end  !  Then  shall  you  likewise  be 
found  under  the  altar  with  all  God's  dear  chil- 
dren, where  all  tears  shall  be  wiped  away  from 
our  eyes.  Then  shall  our  despised  body  be  glo- 
rified, and  fashioned  after  the  likeness  of  His 
glory.  Then  shall  our  weeping  be  turned  into 
laughter,  and  our  sorrow  into  joy.  Then  shall 
we,  Avho  for  a  short  time  are  despised  and  con- 
temned, yea,  persecuted  and  cast  out,  in  great 
reproach,  pain,  and  contempt  are  brought  to 
death  for  the  testimony  of  Jesus  Christ,  enjoy 
an  everlasting  triumph,  and  dwell  for  ever  with 
the   Lord.      We   shall   be   clothed  with   white 


328  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

robes.  Ob,  what  a  glorious  company  shall  we 
be,  when  united  with  the  great  multitude  of 
which  John  in  his  Revelation  speaks ! 

"  O  my  wife,  from  my  inmost  heart  beloved  ! 
I  cannot  sufficiently  thank  the  Lord  for  all  the 
great  kindness  which  He  shows  me.  He  gives 
me  such  strength,  that  I  cannot  express  it.  Oh, 
I  now  find  that  the  Lord  is  a  faithful  helper  in 
time  of  need. 

"  My  dear  Lysken,  will  He  wipe  away  all 
tears  ?  Then  there  must  first  be  Aveeping.  He 
will  heal  our  suflferings ;  therefore,  we  must  in 
this  world  first  suflfer.  Therefore,  be  diligent  in 
the  conflict,  Avith  prayer  and  suj^plication  to  the 
Lord.  Cleave  to  the  doctrine  of  Jesus"  Christ 
our  Saviour." 

And  to  the  brethren  Jeronymus  wrote  : 

"  Exhort  and  instruct  each  other  in  the  love 
of  God  ;  and  I  beseech  you,  in  your  prayers  be 
not  forgetful  of  us,  and  that  ye  write  a  letter  to 
my  wife  to  comfort  her,  for  she  will  long  remain 
solitary."  It  was  for  the  time  after  his  death  he 
was  thus  tenderly  providing  ;  because  Lysken 
was  to  be  kept  in  prison  until  the  birth  of  her 
child. 

Again  he  writes  to  her  very  many  earnest  en- 
coura2:ements  to  a  steadfast  confession  : 

"  Know  that  I  think  of  you  day  and  night  ip 
my  prayers,  beseeching  and  sighing  for  you  to 
God ;  for  I  am  much  cast  down  on  your  account, 
that  you  so  long  must  abide  there.     O  my  love, 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAXD.  329 

I  have  confidence  in  the  Lord  that  it  shall  work 
for  your  good  to  continue  imprisoned  so  long. 

"  I  beseech  you,  then,  my  love,  be  no  more 
cast  down  ;  for  the  Lord  will  keep  you  as  the 
apple  of  His  eye.  He  will  not  forsake  you.  I 
partly  understood  from  my  sister,  that  you  were 
dejected  because  you  had  not  been  more  for- 
bearing with  me.  See,  my  dear  lamb,  you  have 
not  been  unforbearing  towards  me ;  and  we 
have  lived  together  no  otherwise  than  we  were 
bound  to  live.  Why,  then,  should  you  be  cast 
down  ?  I  thank  the  Lord  that  you  have  lived 
so  humbly  with  me.  I  could  even  wish  that  I 
might,  for  your  sake,  abide  a  whole  year  on 
bread  and  water,  and  then  die  ten  times  over, 
that  you  might  be  released.  Oh,  could  I  help 
you  by  my  tears,  or  my  blood,  how  willingly 
would  I  suiFer  for  you  !  But  my  sufferings  can- 
not help  you.  Be  content.  I  will  pray  yet 
more  for  you.  This  letter  I  have  written  with 
tears,  because  I  heard  you  were  so  greatly  cast 
down.  I  beg  you  to  write  me  how  you  feel. 
Herewith  I  commend  you  to  the  Lord." 

The  poor  tried  Lysken  wrote  : 

"My  beloved  husband  in  the  Lord, understand 
that  at  first,  the  time  seemed  exceedingly  long 
to  me ;  because  I  was  not  accustomed  to  im- 
prisonment, and  I  heard  nothing  but  tempta- 
tions to  forsake  the  Lord.  They  said,  What 
right  had  I  to  meddle  with  Scrij^ture  ?  I  had 
better  mind  my  sewing.     '  It  seems,'  said  they, 


330  THE    LIBERATIOX    OF    HOLLAND. 

'  you  will  follow  the  apostles.  But  what  signs  do 
you  show?  The  apostles  spake  with  divers 
tono-ues.'  But  it  is  enough  for  us  that  we  have 
believed  through  the  Word.  I  desire  that  Christ 
cruciiied  may  be  our  everlasting  joy  and  strength. 
I  confide  in  the  Lord,  who  only  is  wise,  and  who 
gives  His  wisdom  to  those  alone  Avho  are  simple- 
hearted. 

"  Understand  that  I  Avept  much  because  you 
were  dejected  on  my  account.  Be  at  rest  con- 
cerning this,  my  dearly  beloved  in  the  Lord. 
The  Avill  of  the  Lord  must  be  done  to  the  salva- 
tion of  both  our  souls.  He  suffers  us  not  to  be 
tempted  above  that  we  are  able  to  bear.  There- 
fore, be  comforted." 

And  he  replied  : 

"  As  I  read  your  letter,  and  heard  how  it  went 
with  you,  and  that  you  desired  for  me  as  your 
salutation  the  cruciiied  Saviour,  my  heart  and 
my  soul  sprang  up  within  me  from  gladness,  so 
much  so,  that  I  could  not  finish  reading  tlie  let- 
ter, but  was  constrained  to  bend  my  knees  before 
the  Lord,  and  praise  and  thank  Him,  my  strength 
and  comfort.  I  confide  in  Him,  nothing  doubt- 
ing He  will  give  you  the  same  joy  He  gives  me, 
and  will  preserve  you  even  to  the  end.  I  have 
such  joy  and  gladness  in  His  promises,  that  I 
cannot  even  think  on  these  torments,  bat  only 
on  those  great  promises  which  He  hath  given  to 
them  that  remain  steadfast  to  the  end  ;  yea,  such, 
gladness   as  I  cannot  speak,  or  write,  or  had 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAXD.  331 

tliougbt  could  be  experienced  in  a  prison — for 
scarce  can  I  sleep  night  or  day  for  rejoicing," 
Lysken  writes  to  the  brethren  and  sisters : 
"  I  have  before  my  eyes  a  beautiful  resem- 
blance of  a  bride,  how  she  ornaments  herself  to 
please  a  bridegroom  of  this  world.  Oh,  how 
ought  we,  then,  to  ornament  ourselves  to  please 
our  Bridegroom,  that  we  may  hear  His  delight- 
ful voice,  '  Come,  ye  blessed,  inherit  the  king- 
dom of  my  Father !'  " 

And  Jeronymus  writes  to  Lysken  : 
"  I  wish  you  to  know  that  I  was  greatly  re- 
joiced while  reading  your  letter,  and  that  you 
wrote  that  you  besought  the  Lord,  with  weep- 
ing eyes,  that  He  would  count  you  also  worthy 
to  suffer  for  His  name.  My  beloved,  be  not 
anxious.  Pray  to  the  Lord  with  an  humble  heart, 
that  He  will  give  us  what  is  most  for  our  souls' 
welfare.  I  likewise  inform  you,  my  beloved, 
that  they  tortured  me  severely,  in  order  to  in- 
duce me  to  betray  some;  but  the  Lord  w^as 
mightier,  who  kept  my  mouth,  than  all  their 
torments.  They  then  said  that  they  should 
come  again ;  but  they  can  do  no  more  than  the 
Lord  permits  them.  Eternal  honour  to  Him  who 
hath  thus  far  made  us  meet,  and  will  yet  make 
us  meet  for  His  heavenly  kingdom !" 

So  they  continued  to  write  to  each  other,  la- 
bouring to  keep  each  other  steadfast,  cast  down 
by  each  other's  grief,  more  than  by  any  bodily 
tortures  of  their  own,  and  rejoicing  in  each  oth- 


332  THE    LIBERATION   OF    HOLLAND. 

er's  joy,  until,  on  the  night  when  he  was  con- 
demned, he  wrote  her  once  more : 

"  I  wish  you,  my  heartily  beloved,  chosen  wife 
in  the  Lord,  the  true,  genuine,  penitential  faith 
that  works  by  love,  and  a  sound,  firm,  immova- 
bly steadfast  mind  in  our  and  your  most  holy 
faith.  To  the  crucified  Christ,  that  almighty 
King  and  loving  God,  I  now  commend  you,  my 
beloved,  that  He  may  be  your  Comforter,  seeing 
that  He  has  called  and  fetched  me  first.  With 
this  I  am  even  satisfied,  having  seen  that  it  was 
the  Lord's  will ;  therefore,  my  dearly  beloved  in 
the  Lord,  let  it  be  no  burden  to  you,  nor  be 
greatly  cast  down,  that  lie  summons  me  first 
away.  He  has  done  it  for  our  good,  and  that  I 
might  be  an  example  to  you ;  and  that  then  you 
may  devoutly  follow  me,  since  through  the  mercy 
of  the  Saviour,  who  hath  counted  us  both  worthy 
to  sufier  for  His  name,  I  shall  go  before  you. 
Herewith  I  take  leave  of  you  in  this  world,  for  I 
expect  to  see  your  face  no  more.  But  Christ 
will  soon  bring  us  again  together  under  His 
altar ;  that  men  will  not  be  able  to  prevent.  I 
go  before  you,  with  great  joy  and  gladness,  to  my 
heavenly  Father,  and  to  yours.  I  must  humbly 
beseech  you  that  you  be  not  therefore  cast  down, 
but  rejoice  with  me.  Yet  I  am  somewhat  sorry 
that  I  leave  you  amongst  these  wolves ;  but  I 
have  commended  you  to  the  Lord,  and  am  fully 
persuaded  that  He  will  preserve  you  to  the  end. 
Abide  devoutly  in  the  Lord." 


THE    LIBEKATIOX    OF    IIOLLAXD.  3^3 

Jeronymus  was  burnt  on  the  2d  of  September, 
1551.  Lysken  remained  in  prison  till  the  birth 
of  her  child ;  she  was  steadfast  till  the  end,  and 
boldly  confessed  her  faith  at  the  tribunal  before 
the  masfistratcs  and  the  multitude.-  The  last 
time  she  was  seen,  she  was  standing  at  the 
prison- windo'w,  singing  a  hymn.  The  next  morn- 
ing, which  was  to  be  the  day  of  her  execution, 
some  of  the  brethren  went  to  encourage  her  to 
the  last ;  but  before  they  had  assembled,  between 
three  and  four  in  the  morning,  they  had  taken 
her  to  the  Scheldt  and  drowned  her  there. 
Some,  however,  saw  it.  She  went  courageously 
to  death,  and  spoke  bravely,  "  Father,  into  Thy 
hands  I  commend  my  spirit."  Thus  Jeronymus 
and  Lysken  Segerson  were  reunited  as  he  had 
jirayed,  in  the  presence  of  the  Lord. 

The  testament  and  last  letter  of  .Soetgen  van 
der  Houte  to  her  children  has  also  moved  me 
much.     She  wrote : 

"  Grace,  peace,  and  mercy,  from  God* the  Fa- 
ther and  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  be  to  you,  my 
dear  children  ;  a  loving  salutation  to  you,  David, 
Betgeu,  and  Tanneken.  Written  by  your  mother, 
in  bonds,  to  put  you  in  mind  of  the  truth,  to 
which  I  hope  to  testify  by  word  and  by  death, 
by  the  help  of  the  Almighty  ;  and  as  an  example 
to  you.  May  the  wisdom  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
instruct  and  strengthen  you,  that  you  may  be 
nurtured  in  the  ways  of  the  Lord.     Amen. 

"  Further,  my  dear  children,  since  it  is  pleasing 


334  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

to  the  Loi'd  to  take  me  out  of  the  world,  I  Avill 
leave  you  a  memento,  not  of  silver  or  gold,  for 
such  jewels  are  perishable — I  would  inscribe  a 
jewel  in  your  heart  were  it  possible — the  word 
of  the  Lord." 

Then  after  many  plain,  affectionate,  practical 
directions,  she  adds : 

"  O  my  dear  children,  I  have  written  this  with 
tears,  admonishing  you  from  love,  praying  for 
you  with  a  fervent  heart.  When  your  father 
was  taken  from  me,"  (he  also  laid  down  his  life 
for  the  faith,)  ''I  did  not  spare  myself  day  or 
night  to  bring  you  up,  and  my  prayer  and  cry 
continually  was  for  your  salvation;  and,  being 
now  in  bonds,  it  has  always  been  my  greatest 
concern  that  I  could  not,  according  to  my  anx- 
ious desire,  better  provide  for  you.  When  I 
was  told  that  you  were  conveyed  to  Oudeuarde, 
and  from  that  to  Bruges,  it  was  a  sore  stroke  to 
me.  I  have  never  had  greater  sorrow.  But 
Avhen  r  thought  that  neither  my  sorrow  nor  my 
solicitude  could  help  you,  and  that  Ave  must 
separate  from  all  tilings  dear  in  this  world  for 
the  sake  of  Christ,  I  left  it  all  to  the  will  of  the 
Lord,  still  hoping  and  praying  that  lie  in  Ilis 
compassion  would  preserve  you,  as  he  kept  Mo- 
ses and  Joseph  and  Daniel  among  the  ungodly. 
David,  my  dear  child,  I  commend  you  to  the 
Lord.  You  are  the  eldest :  learn  wisdom,  that 
you  may  set  a  good  example  to  your  sisters. 
Beware  of  bad  company,  and  of  playing  in  the 


THK    LIBEEATION    OF    HOLLAND.  335 

Streets  with  bad  boys.  Learn  diligently  to  read 
and  write,  tbat  you  may  become  wise.  Love 
one  another,  without  strife  and  wrangling.  The 
wisest  must  bear  with  the  dull,  and  admonish 
them  with  kindness.  The  strong  must  have 
compassion  on  the  weak,  and  assist  him  all  in 
his  power  from  love.  Diligently  search  the 
Scriptures,  that  you  be  not  deceived.  Believe 
not  readily  when  evil  is  spoken  of  another,  but 
examine.  Make  no  commotion  about  it  when 
you  are  belied,  but  suffer  it  for  Christ's  sake. 
Love  your  enemies,  and  pray  for  them  that  speak 
evil  of  you  and  make  you  suffer.  Observe,  my 
dearest,  all  this  is  wrought  by  brotherly  love, 
and  is  all  comprehended  in  the  second  command- 
ment. You  must  always  mind  not  to  seek  your 
own  profit  alone,  but  be  always  concerned  for 
those  with  whom  you  have  dealings,  whether 
young  or  old.  Further,  my  dear  children.  Bet- 
gen  and  Tanneken,  my  dear  lambs,  I  admonish 
you  in  all  these  things  to  be  obedient*to  the 
commands  of  the  Lord.  Be  friendly,  modest, 
and  still,  as  it  becomes  young  females.  Pray  to 
the  Lord  for  wisdom,  which  shall  be  given  you. 
Learn  to  read  and  write  well,  and  take  pleasure 
therein,  so  will  you  become  wise.  Take  pleasure 
and  exercise  yourselves  in  psalms,  hymns,  and 
spiritual  songs.  Pursue  the  only  true  joy.  May 
the  mighty  hand  of  the  Lord  lead  you,  as  He  led 
Israel  out  of  Egypt,  and  bring  you  to  the  new 
Jerusalem,  that  we  may  see  each  other  in  the 
resurrection-day  with  joy." 


336  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

.  And  shortly  before  her  death,  she  wrote  to  her 
brother  and  sister,  and  also  to  her  children : 

"  Written  from  love.  The  peace  of  God  be 
with  you,  my  dear  brother  and  sister.  I  thank 
you  very  heartily  for  all  the  kindness  you  have 
ever  shown  me,  and  still  will  show,  as  I  hope,  to 
my  three  lambs  that  I  leave  behind  me.  I  once 
more  take  leave  of  you.  I  think  it  is  now  for 
the  last  time.  We  are  so  strengthened  in  mind 
to  present  our  oifering,  that  I  cannot  express  it. 
I  could  leap  for  joy  when  I  think  on  that  eternal 
good  which  it  is  promised  us  to  possess,  even 
all  that  persevere  in  that  which  the  Lord  hath 
commanded.  I  know  not  with  what  praise  to 
glorify  the  Lord,  that  He  hath  chosen  Martha 
and  me  to  such  honour,  us  who  are  such  poor 
contemptible  creatures.  I  pray  all  that  love  the 
Lord  to  humble  their  hearts ;  for  the  Lord,  by 
the  Prophet  Isaiah,  says,  '  With  him  will  I  dwell 
that  is  of  a  humble  and  contrite  spirit,  and  trem- 
bleth  at  my  word.'  Oh,  those  that  thus  humble 
themselves  before  the  Lord,  and  suftcr  not  them- 
selves to  think  that  they  are  any  thing,  them  will 
God  exalt  and  enrich  with  heavenly  possessions. 
Think  how  Christ  chose  humility  when  He  left 
His  Father's  glory,  and  descended  here  into  the 
lowest  parts  of  the  earth,  in  obedience  to  His 
Father.  From  His  great  love  He  became  man. 
In  great  humility  He  came  to  save  us.  He  suf- 
fered pain  and  reproach,  bearing  all  with  patience 
and    long-suffering,    in    obedience    to    the    Fa- 


THE    LIBERATION"    OF    HOLLAjSTD.  337 

ther,  even  unto  death,  that  He  might  make  us 
blessed. 

"  This  was  written  when  we  had  taken,  as  we 
thought,  our  last  supper.  Further,  my  dear 
child,  Betgen,  I  rejoice  greatly  that  tlie  Lord 
has  spared  me  long  enough  to  be  gladdened, 
before  my  death,  by  your  letter,  by  which  you 
have  strengthened  me.  I  pray  the  Lord  that 
He  would  strengthen  and  establish  you  by  His 
Spirit,  that  you  may  go  forward  and  pursue  the 
best  things  of  which  you  have  written  me. 
When  your  brother  and  sister  come  to  you,  sa- 
lute each  other  with  an  affectionate  kiss  of  peace 
in  my  name.  Adieu,  my  dear  child,  Betgen ! 
Adieu,  my  dear  little  ones,  David  and  Tanne- 
ken !  Adieu,  my  dear  brethren  and  sisters  all, 
and  my  friends  everywhere !  Written  by  me, 
Soetgen  van  der  Houte,  your  mother,  in  bonds. 
Written  hastily,  trembling  with  cold,  with  love 
to  you  all.     Amen." 

She  was  put  to  death  at  Ghent,  on  the  27th 
November,  15  GO. 

That  poor  little  lamb,  Betgen,  scarcely  as  old 
as  our  Mayken,  I  suppose,  when  her  mother  died, 
nine  years  ago  !  I  should  like  to  have  seen  the 
large  childish  writing  which  so  comforted  the 
poor  condemned  mother,  and  I  should  love  to 
have  the  orphan  girl  with  us  here. 

Many  another  record  has  old  Jacob  read  to  us 
during  those  Winter  cA^enings  :  touching  letters 
of  thanks  from  the  martyrs  for  little  acts  of  kind- 
29 


338  THE    LIBEEATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

ness  and  gifts,  mostly  the  gifts  of  the  poor  ; 
simple  messages  of  aiiection  and  sympathy,  min- 
gled with  brief  notices  of  "  excruciating  pain," 
and  sublime  words  of  ffxith  and  hope,  and  hymns 
full  of  lofty  joy,  left  as  legacies  to  those  who 
survived. 

One  who  used  ofttimes  to  be  dejected  in  pros- 
perous times,  had  "  never  known  sorrow  since 
he  had  been  in  prison."  Another,  Adrian  Pan, 
put  to  death,  Avith  his  wife,  at  Antwerp,  wrote  : — 
"My  dear  friends,  the  more  we  are  exercised 
with  tribulation,  the  more  we  are  comforted. 
This  we  truly  experienced  when  first  we  fell 
into  their  hands,  and  they  beset  the  house, 
and  would  have  destroyed  it,  with  all  that  it 
contained.  Then  my  heart  was  strengthened, 
as  if  I  had  been  another  man.  My  wife  was, 
indeed,  a  little  fearful  before  they  laid  their 
hands  upon  us  ;  but  when  she  saw  that  it  must 
be  so,  fear  departed  from  her,  as  if  she  had  put' 
off  a  garment,  and  she  began  to  sing." 

Jacob  Claesen  told  us,  also,  the  history  of  one 
generous  sufferer,  which  stirred  our  hearts  most 
deeply.  Not  two  winters  since,  over  one  of  the 
frozen  meres  or  rivers  near  us,  Dirk  Williamzoon 
was  fleeing  from  his  persecutors.  As  he  ran, 
the  ice  cracked  under  his  feet,  and  a  gulf  of 
cold,  deep  water  opened  behind  him,  separating 
him  from  his  pursuers.  He  was  safe.  But, 
looking  back,  he  saw  the  officer  sent  to  arrest 
him  perishing  in  the  waters.      With  a  noble, 


V'-' 


THE   LIBEEATIOJT   OF   HOLLAND.  339 

forgiving  impulse,  lie  stooped  over  the  brink  of 
the  ice,  and,  at  the  risk  of  his  own  life,  saved 
his  enemy's.  The  officer,  touched  with  a  nat- 
ural instinct  of  gratitude,  would  have  let  his  de- 
liverer escape.  But  the  magistrates  who  by  this 
time  were  at  hand,  insisted  on  the  capture.  Dirk 
Williamzoon  was  secured  again,  and  bound  ;  and 
a  few  weeks  afterwards  was  burnt  alive  at  As- 
peren,  a  martyr  for  mercy  as  well  as  for  truth. 
Indeed,  many  of  those  Dutch  martyrs,  like  our 
brethren  in  Spain,  were  martyrs  to  the  second 
great  commandment  as  much  as  for  the  first. 
If  love  to  God  brouo-ht  them  to  the  stake  and 
the  block,  love  to  man,  to  the  friends  they  would 
not  betray,  stretched  them  on  the  rack,  which  so 
many  of  them  confessed  they  dreaded  more  than 
death.  Love  yielded  their  limbs  to  torture,  be- 
fore faith  "gave  their  bodies  to  be  burned;" 
and,  therefore,  it  will  not  "  profit  them  nothing" 
that  they  suffered  ;  but  oh,  how  infinitely  much  !" 
I  did  not  always  so  much  like  the  record  of 
their  examinations  before  the  tribunals.  Some, 
indeed,  ignorant  men  though  they  might  be, 
answered  most  nobly ;  coui-teously,  yet  firmly. 
Others,  again,  gave  far  more  clever  and  pointed 
replies  ;  but,  it  seemed  to  me,  sharpened  with 
more  natural  indignation  and  pride  ;  like  a  lion 
brought  to  bay,  rather  than  a  lamb  led  to  the 
slaughter.  Yet  these  varieties,  and  even  de- 
fects, gave  a  value  to  the  narratives,  and  en- 
couraged me  often,  as  did  the  little  records  of 


340  THE   LIBERATION   OF   HOLLAND. 

simj)le  cares,  and  wants,  and  yearnings  for  the 
blessings  they  were  to  leave.  It  seemed  to 
bring  the  martyrs  more  within  the  reach  and 
comprehension  of  us  all ;  if  not  when  they  fin- 
ished their  course  in  triumph,  at  least  when  they 
began  it. 

And  o^ten  and  often,  when  these  March  winds 
howl  around  the  house,  and  drive  the  sea  against 
the  dykes  so  near  us,  and  I  know  not  what  shel- 
ter Mark  has  found,  those  words  comfort  me ; 
and  I  think,  if  the  trial  comes,  then  God  will 
doubtless  enable  me,  weak  as  I  am,  to  "  put  fear 
off  from  me,  as  a  garment,"  and  to  sing,  or  at 
least  to  say,  with  one  of  three  who  went  to  the 
stake  at  Antwerp,  "  "We  go  in  peace  to  the  peace- 
ful home  of  our 'Father." 

December,  1570. — Our  quiet  refuge  in  Fries- 
land  is  gone,  actually  swept  from  the  face  of  the 
earth.  Towards' the  end  of  October,  the  wind 
continued  for  many  days  to  blow  with  fury  from, 
the  north-west,  driving  the  spray  over  the  dyke 
into  farmer  Jacob  Claesen's  meadow's.  At  first 
we  felt  no  alarm,  although  the  fields  on  which 
the  farm  stood  lay  many  feet  below  the  sea. 
The  barrier  which  had  stood  for  centuries  might 
well  be  trusted,  and  in  time  the  wind  would 
change.  But  the  wind  did  not  change.  Day 
after  day,  and  night  after  night,  the  tdrrible 
invisible  power  rushed  steadily  uj^on  us,  not  so 
much  in  gusts,  as  with  the  relentless  unbroken 


THE    LIBEEATIOX    OF    HOLLAM-D.  341 

current  of  a  gigantic  river  of  air,  bearing  steadily 
down  on  the  dyke  from  the  Northern  Ocean. 
At  length  its  force  rose  to  fury.  The  capricious 
gusty  winds  seemed  to  have  changed  their  na- 
ture, and  to  be  animated  with  a  fixed  purpose 
of  destruction.  On  the  1st  of  November,  the 
waters  ^\'ere  so  piled  against  the  dyke,  that  we 
felt  we  must  j)repare  for  the  worst.  All  mova- 
ble property  was  transferred  to  the  upper  story 
of  the  house.  The  cattle  were  loosed  from  the 
stalls,  to  give  their  own  instinct  a  chance  of  res- 
cuing them.  Boats  were  suspended  outside  the 
upper  windows ;  and  we  all  collected  in  one  room 
— Dolores,  Truyken,  Hadewyk,  the  orphans,  and 
a  few  farm-labourers  ;  while  old  Jacob  sat  with 
the  old  Dutch  Bible  before  him,- and  occasionally 
read  to  us  words  of  power  and  comfort  from  the 
Psalms. 

It  was  a  fearful  night.  The  sky  was  piled 
with  heavy  clouds.  Not  a  star  was  to  be  seen. 
Through  the  steady  rush  of  the  wind  we  heard 
the  artillery  of  the  great  waves  laying  siege  to 
the  dyke,  while  the  lowing  and  bleating  of  the 
frightened  cattle  came  faintly  from  the  fields,  to 
which  one  and  another  of  the  children  often 
responded  with  a  low,  terrified  cry. 

Yet  in  the  danger  there  was  at  times  a  kind 
of  awful  pleasure.  This  thundering  and  howl- 
ing were  not  the  cry  of  an  enemy,  but  the  mighty 
voice  of  God.  We  knew  not  what  His  purposes 
were ;  but  we  knew  no  act  of  His  would  harm 
29* 


342  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLA^'D. 

US.  We  were  not  afraid  of  Him.  He  had  re- 
deemed us ;  and  from  the  fearful  weapons  in 
His  hand  we  fled  with  confidence  to  His  heart. 

At  length,  towards  morning,  a  dreadful  crash 
came.  The  great  breach  was  eflected.  The 
dykes  were  overwhelmed ;  and  the  first  cold 
tints  of  dawn  showed  us  a  raging  sea,  in  which 
the  upper*  rooms  of  our  farmhouse,  with  a  few 
trees  on  other  dykes  or  hillocks,  rose  like  islands 
here  and  there.  Rapidly  the  waves  rose.  Farm- 
ing implements  and  famihar  household  furniture 
were  dashed  against  the  walls.  Poor,  bewil- 
dered cattle  struggled  to  the  window.  Tlie 
house  tottered  with  the  beat  of  the  sea.  It  was 
no  longer  a  haven  for  us. 

Once  more  old  Jacob  Claesen  knelt,  and  all  of 
us  around  him. 

"  Heavenly  Father ;"  he  said,  "  it  is  Thy  hand. 
But  we  trust  Thee.  Thou  hast  redeemed  us. 
Thou  hast  given  Thy  Son  for  us.  "We  go  forth 
on  the  sea.  But  the  sea  is  Thine.  We  commit 
ourselves,  not  to  the  winds  and  waves,  heavenly 
Father,  but  to  Thee  !" 

In  a  few  minutes  we  were  launched  on  tliat 
seething  sea,  in  two  boats,  manned  by  the  farm- 
servants.  For  some  hours  we  tossed  about, 
scarcely  knowing  what  to  hope  for,  since  on  all 
sides  we  saw  nothing  but  one  waste  of  desolating 
W'aters,  beneath  Avhich,  from  time  to  time,  disap- 
peared one  little  island  after  another,  with  its 
refugees ;  roofs  crashing  before  the  waves,  trees 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  343 

torn  up  by  the  roots,  and  borne  along,  with  men 
and  women  still  clinging  to  them.  We  took  in 
all  we  could,  and  then  made  for  the  more  open 
sea.  At  last  we  saw  a  ship  in  the  distance.  She 
bore  towards  us.  For  some  time  the  suspense 
as  to  her  character  was  intense.  If  she  were  a 
Spaniard,  it  would  be  better  to  die  before  she 
approached  us.  But  at  length  one  of  the  men 
exclaimed  : 

"  It  is  one  of  the  Water-Beggars  !  They  will 
save  us !" 

We  rowed  towards  her,  and  made  what  sig- 
nals we  could  ;  and  in  an  hour  we  were  all  safely 
on  board. 

And  in  the  commander  Dolores  was  the  first 
to  recognize  the  Seigneur  de  Clairvaux. 

lie  took  us  safely  round  the  coast  of  North 
Holland  to  this  little  castle  of  Rosevelt,  which 
has  been  our  refuge  ever  since. 

February,  1570. — The  brave  little  vessel,  which 
has  been  hovering  near  for  our  protection  during 
the  last  month,  has  at  length  stood  out  to  sea. 

One  evening  in  last  week  the  Seigneur  de  Clair- 
vaux  came  to  me  with  a  very  dejected  mien, 
and  said  : 

"  Sefiora  van  liosevelt,  I  come  to  bid  you  fare- 
well. Probably  for  e^'er.  I  could  have  wished 
it  had  been  otherwise,  as  I  suppose  you  may 
have  imagined.  But  the  Senora  Dolores  will 
not  listen  to  my  prayers ;  and  I  cannot,  indeed, 


344  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

bat  feel  they  were  presumptuous.  She  is  more 
fit  for  heaven  than  to  be  the  bride  of  a  sea- 
rover  ;  but  to  me  it  would  have  made  all  the 
difference.  Now  I  must  strusrarle  throuf^h  life 
alone,  and  God  knows,  in  these  evil  days,  that  is 
hard." 

"  Does  Dolores  fully  understand  that  it  will 
cost  you  so  much  ?" 

"I  would  not  distress  her  with  importuni- 
ties," he  said.  "  She  said  it  was  not  fair  to  link 
my  life  to  hers,  so  wasted  Avith  many  trials  ;  that 
a  bright  destiny  awaited  me.  But  my  life  is 
bound  up  with  hers.  Heaven  knows  what  she 
has  been  to  me.  I  cannot  love  any  one  at  ran- 
dom, just  because  it  might  be  good  for  me." 

"  Wait,"  I  said,  leaving  the  room. 

"  Senora,"  he  said,  "  do  not  intercede.  The 
Senora  Dolores  would  do  any  thing  from  com- 
passion." 

"  Certainly,  I  will  not,"  I  said ;  "  but  I  think 
it  right  to  explain," 

"  Aly  poor,  broken,  withered  life  to  be  a  weight 
on  the  prime  of  his  !"  said  Dolores,  when  I  spoke 
to  her.     "  I  am  not  so  selfish  as  that,  Costanza." 

"  You  have  the  happiness,  perhaps  also  the 
nobleness,  of  his  life  in  your  hands,"  I  said. 

"  He  thinks  so  now,"  she  replied. 

"/think  so,"  I  said. 

She  hesitated. 

"  Dolores,"  I  said,  "  life  in  these  days  is  not  a 
festive  voyage  on  a  Summer  sea,  but  a  scene  of 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  345 

storm  and  battle ;  and  if  the  Seigneur  de  Clair- 
vaux  finds  in  you  one  who  will  make  the  toil 
and  conflict  of  perhaps  many  bitter  years  sweeter 
and  nobler  to  him  by  sharing  it,  will  you, re- 
fuse ?" 

"7/"/"  she  murmui'ed. 

And  before  the  Water- Witch  left  our  shores, 
Dolores  and  Leonard  de  Clairvaux  had  solemnly 
plighted  their  troth  to  each  other. 

Ma7/,  1571. — A  letter  from  Mark.  He  is  still 
in  Germany.  It  is  more  than  three  years  since 
we  met.  I  wonder  if  I  could  have  made  the 
sacrifice  had  I  known  its  extent.  But  day  by 
day,  I  have  been  led  on ;  and  Mark  is  so  fully 
persuaded  the  good  cause  must  triumph,  that  I 
cannot  help  hoping  he  is  right.  The  Prince  and 
Count  Louis  are  making  all  possible  exertions, 
and  Mark  has  been  on  many  difticult  missions 
for  them.  But  their  chief  earthly  dependence 
now  is  on  the  French  Huguenots  and  their  in- 
fluence on  the  Court  at  Paris. 

It  seems  in  one  way,  however,  to  bring  us 
nearer  to  each  other  my  living  in  this  old  home 
of  his  childhood.  Ursel  has  been  staying  with 
us,  and  it  is  very  pleasant  to  hear  her  speak  of 
the  old  nooks  of  field  and  garden  where  they 
used  to  play,  and  the  creek  where  he  used  to 
sail  his  little  boats,  and  where  once  he  saved 
Ursel  from  drowning.  Mayken  drinks  in  all 
these  narratives  of  her  father's  childhood  with 


346  THE    LIBEKATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

wondering  delight.  To  her  they  are  better  than 
a  romance.  I  love  that  her  father  should  thus 
be  her  hero.  And  it  is  well  she  should  have 
some  sucli  narratives,  for  except  the  Bible  we 
have  not  a  book.  Dear  Mayken  is  a  bright 
child — our  sweet  May  in  this  falling  autumn  or 
bitter  winter  of  the  world,  when  all  the  joy  of 
the  land  seems  frozen  and  dead  under  the  steady 
ferocity  of  Alva's  tyranny.  In  itself  this  castle 
is  by  no  means  a  choice  residence,  two  rooms  on 
a  floor  ;  a  rude  tower  of  three  stories,  with  a 
look-out  on  the  top,  built,  I  suppose,  with  a 
mysterious  provision  that  Dolores  would  spend 
many  an  hour  gazing  across  creek  and  dyke  to 
the  open  sea. 

June,  1571. — Ursel  is  much  disquieted  about 
Christina. 

"  My  dear,"  she  said  to  me,  soon  after  we  met, 
"  she  is  beginnino-  ao-ain  !" 

"  Beginning  what  ?"  I  asked. 

"  The  linen  stores,  and  the  preserves." 

I  could  not  help  smiling  at  the  despairing  look 
with  which  Ursel  made  this  announcement. 

"The  house  in  Leyden  stands  a  chance  in 
time  of  being  as  well  provided  with  things  that 
can  be  moth-eaten  and  rusted,  as  the  old  palace 
at  Antwerp.  Cliristina  is  giving  her  whole  mind 
to  it." 

"  I  wish  we  could  sew  them  up  in  bags  that 
do  not  wax  old,"  I  said  ;  "  the  things  are  good 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  347 

in  themselves,  and  the  orphans  are  sorely  in 
need." 

For  the  six  orphans  had  been  rescued  with 
us,  and,  with  old  Jacob  Claesen  and  Iladewyk, 
formed  part  of  our  household  in  the  tower :  a 
hungry  family,  not  always  very  easy  to  satisfy. 

Iladewyk  and  Truyken  are  invaluable,  and  our 
farm  produce — milk,  eggs,  and  grain — seems  in 
some  unaccountable  Avay  to  multiply  under  their 
skillful  management.  We  live  frugally,  certainly, 
but  the  clothes  are  the  chief  difficulty. 

July,  1571. — I  am  just  returned  from  Ley  den 
in  triumph.  Christina  and  her  linen  presses  were 
much  in  my  thoughts  after  that  conversation 
with  Ursel,  The  motherless  little  ones,  and  the 
bereaved  woman,  the  full  linen  chests,  and  the 
little  unclothed  limbs — it  would  be  extraordi- 
nary indeed  if  these  two  could  not  be  brought 
together.  I  did  not  like  to  tell  any  one  my  plan. 
I  did  not  wish  it  to  seem  my  plan ;  and  indeed 
it  was  not  the  things  I  wanted,  so  much  as  that 
Christina's  heart  might  be  unfettered,  and  that 
the  joy  I  felt  might  be  hers.  Accordingly,  on 
Tuesday  last  I  started  for  Leyden.  John  and 
Christina  welcomed  me  most  cordially.  Ursel 
was  right  The  next  morning  Christina  showed 
me  her  j^recious  chest,  and  set  her  maidens  to 
work,  as  if  the  safety  of  Holland  depended  on 
the  completion  of  the  household  stores. 

"  It  was  a  great  shock,"  she  said,  "  having  to 


348  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAISTD. 

leave  Antwerp  in  such  haste,  and  not  to  be  able 
to  carry  a  thing  away.  But  you  see  I  am  recov- 
ering the  lost  ground  by  degrees." 

"  Christina,"  I  ventured  to  say,  after  a  pause, 
"  did  you  leave  that  little  chest  behind  ?" 

"  All  Hansken's  little  toys  and  relics  ?  Yes, 
all!"  she  said.  "I  wanted  very  much  to  carry 
it  myself;  but  John  would  not  hear  of  it.  Yet 
it  was  very  light.  And  it  was  all  I  have  left  of 
the  child."     And  great  tears  began  to  flow  fast. 

"  Dear  Christina,  Avhen  our  dear  Saviour  went 
to  heaven,  He  left  some  precious  relics  of  Him 
behind.  Shall  we  not  treasure  these  for  His 
sake  ?" 

"  "  Do  you  mean  the  poor  ?"  she  said.  "  I  do 
try  to  help  them,  Costanza.  John  and  I  give 
largely  to  the  church  alms  whenever  they  are 
collected.  I  do  try  to  keep  His  commandments. 
I  know  Ursel  thinks  me  very  worldly.  But  I 
think  it  is  my  duty  to  care  for  the  household, 
and  I  try.  And  I  must  have  something  to  do  ; 
for,  God  knows,  sometimes  my  heart  is  very 
heavy  and  lonely." 

I  do  not  remember  how  the  conversation  pro- 
ceeded. But  Christina  returned  with  me  to 
Rosevelt ;  and  on  Sunday  morning  she  joined  us 
in  our  family  prayers.  The  hymns  of  the  little 
voices  seemed  to  move  her  strangely ;  and  that 
evening  she  said  : 

"  Dolores,  I  think  I  should  like  to  take  one  of 
those  children  back  wnth  me,  if  you  would  trust 


THE   LIBEEATION   OF   HOLLAND.  349 

him  with  me ;  that  fair-haired  boy  who  sang  so 
sweetly." 

I  was  too  glad ;  but,  to  ray  dismay,  the  child 
resisted  all  Christina's  endearments,  and  would 
not  go.  At  last,  to  our  relief,  a  little  girl,  usually 
very  shy,  crept  up  to  Christina,  and  looking 
trustfully  in  her  eyes,  slipped  her  Uttle  hand  into 
hers,  and  said : 

"  I  should  like  to  go  with  you  very  much,  if 
you  will  take  Maritgen  and  Bernhard  too." 

This  was  a  daring  proposition ;  and  Christina 
said : 

"  How  will  John  bear  the  noise  ?" 

But  the  next  day  she  set  oif  with  her  three 
little  charges;  and  as  she  turned  back  to  wave 
us  a  last  good-bye,  her  face  seemed  to  me  changed. 
The  old,  anxious,  carn-worn  look  seemed  to  have 
gone  from  her  brow,  and  a  happy,  youthful  smile 
shone  in  her  eyes.  And  I  never  heard  that  John 
van  Broek  complained  of  the  noise. 

But  Ursel  said  to  me,  with  tears  in  her  eyes, 
before  she  left  with  her  sister : 

"  Costanza,  people  call  these  terrible  times, 
but  I  do  not  think  storms  are  the  most  terrible 
things  for  us.  They  break  up  the  ice,  and  bring 
the  Spring." 

May,  1572. — The  first  good  news  for  the  good 

cause  since  Count  Louis  lost  all  at  Jemmingen, 

and  the  Prince's  army  dissolved  before  Alva  in 

1568,  has  come  to  us  this  day  !     The  town  of 

30 


350  THE    LIBEEATIOX    OF    HOLLAND. 

Brill  has  been  captured  by  the  Prmce's  friends. 
Some  days  since,  Dolores,  from  her  station  on 
the  roof  of  the  tower,  had  watched  a  strange 
fleet  sailing  up  the  coast  from  the  Brill  towards 
the  north.  Some  said  they  were  Spaniards,  and 
others  merchantmen  ;  but  Dolores  felt  sure  they 
were  the  Water  Gueux.  The  event  proved  her 
right.  It  was  a  fleet  of  the  Prince's  partisans, 
which,  having  been  driven  from  the  coasts  of 
England  by  Queen  Elizabeth  in  consequence  of 
some  treaty  she  was  concluding  with  Alva,  had 
come  to  seize  Enkhuyzen,  a  rich  seaport  on  the 
Zuyder  Zee,  containing  many  patriots,  who  they 
hoped,  would  deliver  the  town  into  their  hands. 
But  the  winds  drove  them  back.  They  could 
not  double  the  northern  point  of  Holland  ;  and 
one  evening,  as  Dolores  and  I  were  standincr  on 
the  tower,  we  saw  them  bearing  southward 
again.  To-day,  De  Clairvaux  himself  has  come 
and  told  us  all.  Van  der  Marck  and  Tiesloncr, 
the  commanders,  summoned  the  town  of  Brill  to 
surrender,  which  it  did,  the  inhabitants  employ- 
ing the  time  given  them  for  consideration  in 
flight ;  so  that  when  the  rough  sailors,  with  an 
old  mast  and  a  bonfire,  had  battered  and  burnt 
down  the  gates,  they  found  but  fifty  inhabitants 
left.  Thank  God  they  did  not  plunder  the 
houses  or  murder  any  of  the  citizens  .  They 
contented  themselves  with  sacking  the  churches : 
and,  alas  !  they  did  sully  the  noble  cause  by  put- 
ting three  or  four  monks  to  death. 


THE    LIBERATIOlSr    OF    HOLLAND.  351 

A  seaport  is  gained  for  the  Prince  and  liberty. 
Do  Clairvaux  thinks  it  the  happiest  omen,  and  a 
good  season  to  connect  with  his  marriage.  In- 
deed, Ave  have  consented,  and  only  wait  for  the 
arrival  of  Mark,  who  has  promised  to  be  here 
very  soon. 

Juhj  30,  1574. — More  and  more  good  tidings. 
The  tide  seems  to  have  turned  at  last.  A  naval 
victory  has  been  gained.  The  great  Lisbon  fleet, 
with  all  its  treasure,  has  been  captured ;  and  the 
whole  of  Holland  and  Zealand  have  declared  for 
the  Prince.  Five  cities  have  expelled  the  Span- 
ish garrisons.  In  Holland  only  Amsterdam  re- 
mains to  the  Spaniards  ;  in  Zealand  only  Mid- 
dleburg  and  Tergoes.  And  the  Prince  early  in 
this  month  crossed  the  Ehiue,  and  has  once  more- 
entered  the  Netherlands  w-ith  an  army,  which, 
we  hear,  has  been  welcomed  with  enthusiasm  by 
many  cities. 

It  seems  to  us  all  now  that  the  better  day  has 
dawned  at  last.  Mark  Avrites  full  of  the  most 
glowing  hopes  for  the  country  and  the  religion. 
In  France,  also,  it  seems  as  if  the  religion  would 
triumph ;  and  promises  of  succour  are  coming 
even  from  Paris.  The  cities  throughout  the 
land  so  detest  the  name  of  Alva,  that  the  very 
presence  of  a  liberating  force  has  induced  many 
to  open  the  gates.  And  Mark  believes  the  first 
victory  will  bring  the  whole  country  to  the  feet 
of  the  Prince,  and  drive  Alva  and  the  Inquisition 
from  the  land  for  ever. 


352  THE   LIBEEATION   OF   HOLLAND. 


lY. 

Leyden,  3Iay  30,  15T4. 

TWO  years  since  I  made  an  entry  in  this  old 
note-book — and  the  last  words  now  read 
like  some  strange  music  in  a  dream  ! 

The  army  of  the  Prince  of  Orange,  where  is 
it  ?     The  Huguenots',  who  were  to  triumph  in 
France,  where  are  they?     The  Spanish  army, 
which  was  to  have  been  swept  from  the  land  for 
ever  ?     It  is  but  too  plain  where  that  is !     The 
thunder  of  its  terrible  cannon  has  been  echoing 
from  the  walls  of  this  city  for  four  days.     This 
is  the  second  time  Leyden  has  been  besieged. 
The  gallant  Count  Louis,  who  relieved  it  this 
Spring,  has  fallen  in  the  fatal  defeat  at  Mooker- 
heyde,  with  all  his  army.     And  who  is  there  to 
help   us   now  ?     On   earth,   the  Prince ;  but  it 
seems  more  likely  his  will  be  the  martyr's  rather 
than  the  conqueror's    crown.      Iii  heaven,    the 
Prince  of  princes  ;  but  who  can  say  what  paths 
of  trial  He  who  "  learned  obedience  by  the  things 
He  suffered"  may  yet  see  fit  to  lead  us  through  ! 
Mark   and    I  are  separated  again.  I  suppose 
it  is  that  which  makes  my  heart  so  very  heavy 


THE    LIBERATION    OP    HOLLAND.  353 

just  now.  He  left  me  only  a  week  since,  on  a 
brief  mission  for  the  Prince ;  and  now,  before 
he  could  return,  the  Spanish  army  has  surrounded 
the  city. 

While  he  was  with  me,  I  did  not  write.  There 
was  no  need.  But  now  that  he  is  gone,  it  is  a 
relief  to  begin  the  old  chronicle  again. 

A  month  or  two  after  my  last  entry,  on  July, 
1572,  dreadful  rumours  of  defeat  and  ruin,  and 
some  monstrous,  incomprehensible  disaster  in 
France  began  to  thrill  through  the  country. 
But  the  Spanish  army  lay  between  us  and  the 
Prince,  and  we  were  always  slow  to  believe  any 
unfavoiirable  news  which  came  through  that 
gloomy  medium.  Who  could  haA^e  thought  that 
the  truth  would  surpass  the  most  appalling  re- 
ports the  blood-stained  imagination  of  Alva's 
soldiers  could  invent ! 

Mark  brought  us  the  news.  How  little  I  could 
have  dreamed  that  his  coming  would  bring  us 
tidings  so  terrible  as  to  make  even  his  coming 
scarcely  a  joy !  It  only  made  the  grief  less  in- 
tolerable, and  allowed  the  anguish  which  else 
would  have  frozen  us  to  an  icy  horror  to  overflow 
in  floods  of  tears. 

One  evening  in  November  I  heard  his  voice 
at  the  door.  But  for  his  voice,  even  I  might  for 
a  moment  scarcely  have  recognized  him.  His 
face  was  so  haggard  and  rigid,  and  his  hair  had 
grown  gray.     I  was  calling  Mayken. 

"  Wait,  my  love,"  he  said  ;  "  not  yet." 
30* 


354  THE    LIBERATION    OF   HOLLAND. 

And  then,  turning  into  the  little  room  at  the 
foot  of  the  stairs  and  closing  the  door,  he  told 
me  of  the  great  massacre,  on  the  24th  of  August, 
on  St.  Bartholomew's  Day,  Five  thousand  Prot- 
estants murdered  in  one  day  at  Paris,  and  a  hun- 
dred thousand  throughout  France,  by  the  mon- 
arch who  had  a  few  days  before  promised  the 
Prince  his  aid!  The  army  which  the  Prince 
had  collected  at  such  cost,  and  led  across  the 
Rhine  with  such  hope,  dispersed ;  the  Prince 
himself  barely  escaping  with  life,  saved  by  the 
bark  of  his  faithful  spaniel,  from  a  night  attack 
of  the  Spaniards  ;  Count  Louis  also  a  fugitive  ; 
whilst  at  Rome,  at  Paris,  and  in  the  camp  of 
Alva  there  were  Te  Deums  and  peals  of  triumph 
at  the  destruction  of  the  heretics.  "  The  Prince," 
Mark  concluded,  "is  in  Holland,  and  a  few  of 
us  have  accompanied  him.  '  For  there,'  he  said, 
'  will  I  make  my  sepulchre.'  " 

"  Is  all  lost  ?"  I  asked.  "  O  Mark,  that  we 
should  meet  thus!"  And  I  could  not  restrain 
my  tears. 

"  Thank  God  Ave  do  meet,"  he  said.  "  My 
love,  call  Mayken,  and  let  us  thank  God." 

Then,  as  we  knelt  in  prayer  together,  and  he 
Tittered  a  few  words  of  praise,  his-voice,  which 
had  been  so  hard  and  firm  while  he  told  me  of 
these  dreadful  tidings,  gave  way.  It  is  terrible 
to  see  a  brave  man  weep,  weep  like  a  child.  As 
I  saw  him  in  that  burst  of  agony,  it  seemed  to 
me  as  if  my  feelings  were  like  some  little  trick- 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  355 

ling  rill  to  the  great  torrent  of  his  grief.  May- 
ken  crept  to  my  side,  and  hid  her  face  on  my 
shoulder.  And  at  length  Mark  looked  up.  The 
rigid  look  was  gone  from  his  face,  and  he  said, 
firmly  and  very  solemnly  : 

"  Xo,  Costauza,  all  is  not  lost.  I  believe  God 
Avill  rescue  Holland  yet.  Returning  a  fugitive, 
without  army,  money,  friends,  to  this,  his  old 
province,  with  but  seventy  followers,  these  faith- 
ful people  have  welcomed  the  Prince  as  they 
never  did  in  his  prosperity.  I  believe  God  will 
yet  rescue  a  people  who  can  thus  nobly  hope 
against  hope." 

Yes,  there  are  hearts  in  Holland,  in  this  cold, 
amphibious,  mercantile  Holland,  heroic  in  their 
loyalty  and  courage,  as  any  that  ever  beat  among 
the  mountains  of  Greece,  or  under  the  cuirasses 
of  Castilian  chivalry. 

But  yet  further  has  their  fidelity  been  tried 
since  then.  City  after  city  has  been  mercilessly 
sacked.  Mechlin  was  given  over  for  three  days 
to  the  soldiers,  and  more  sacrilege  was  com- 
mitted against  the  churches  by  the  Catholic 
army  than  by  the  image-breakers  at  Antv/erp ; 
to  say  nothing  of  sacrilege  against  God's  living 
human  creatures. 

One  Sunday  morning,  the  people  near  Zutphen 
heard  a  wail  of  anguish  issuing  thence,  and  nO 
one  ventured  near  the  gates  to  see  what  it  meant. 
They  kne\v  that  the  city  was  in  the  hands  of  the 
Spaniards.     All  day  long  that  cry  of  agony  went 


35G  THE    LIBEKATIOX    OF    HOLLAND. 

xij),  and  by  the  morning  the  dreadful  work  was 
done ! 

And  Naarden  !  Alva's  army  entered  it,  giving 
hopes  of  pardon.  The  ^^eople  who  welcomed  us 
BO  hospitably  on  our  way  to  Friesland,  enter- 
tained the  soldiers  with  their  best ;  and  then 
followed  Alva's  recompense  for  the  hospitality 
of  heretics,  who  had  once  dared  to  avow  the 
cause  of  freedom.  The  city,  and  every  living 
man,  woman,  and  child  in  it,  were  destroyed. 
Now  there  is  literally  not  a  house  Ifeft  in  Xaar- 
den.  Only  sixty  of  the  inhabitants  escaped. 
But  of  the  anguish,  blood,  and  fire,  and  crime, 
and  torture  through  which  that  desolation  was 
accomplished,  the  consciences  of  the  Vv^ounded 
Spanish  soldiers  bore  witness,  who,  on  their  dy- 
ing beds  in  the  hospital  at  Amsterdam,  were 
heard  to  cry  out,  despairingly : 

"  Oh,  Naarden  !  Santiago !  San  Domingo  !" 

Many  a  desperate  resistance  since  theq  has 
that  name  of  agony  inspired. 

The  rebel  gan-ison  who,  aided  by  the  flooding 
of  the  dykes,  drove  Don  Frederic  of  Toledo  back 
from  the  walls  of  Alkmaar,  remembered  it.  And 
the  three  hundred  women  who,  under  the  noble 
matron,  Kanau  Ilesselaer,  fought  beside  their 
kinsmen  on  the  walls  of  besieged  Haarlem,  had 
that  memory  among  others  burning  in  their 
hearts.  Yet  Haarlem  fell ;  and  three  thousand, 
in  defiance  of  terms  solemnly  sworn  to,  were 
massacred  there. 


THE   LIBEEATION   OF   HOLLAND  357 

But  tlio  Duke  of  Alva  has  retired.  The  exe- 
crations of  a  nation  were  at  last  too  much  even 
for  him. 

We  must  hope.  The  great  tyrant  is  gone,  and 
the  Prince  remains. 

When  Haarlem  fell,  and  De  Sonoy,  the  Gover- 
nor of  North  Holland,  with  the  bravest  there,  at 
last  counselled  flight  as  the  only  hope,  the  Prince 
replied : 

"You  inquire  whether  I  have  entered  into 
any  alliance  with  other  princes  ?  I  have  entered 
into  a  strict  alliance  Math  the  Prince  of  princes 
for  the  defense  of  the  good  Christians  and  others 
of  this  oppressed  country,  with  Him  who  never 
forsakes  those  that  trust  in  Him,  and  will  as- 
suredly at  last  confound  His  enemies  and  yoixrs, 
who  trample  on  all  laws,  divine  and  human.  I 
am  resolved  never  to  forsake  my  dear  country, 
but,  by  venturing  both  life  and  fortune,  to  make 
use  of  those  means  which  the  Lord  of  hosts  has 
supplied  me  with.  Never  will  I  despair  of  the 
coimtry  for  the  loss  of  one  town." 

"  Never, indeed,"  Mark  said,  "will  we  despair, 
while  God  preserves  us  that  one  man." 

It  is  little  more  than  two  months  since  the  first 
siege  of  Ley  den  was  raised.  And  the  gallant 
soldier  and  true  Christian  who  rescued  Leyden 
then,  perished  in  doing  so.  The  band  of  German 
mercenaries  which  Count  Louis  had  once  more 
succeeded  in  raising  mutinied  before  the  battle. 
Ho  succeeded,  however,  in  restoring  them  to 


358  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

some  degree  of  subordination;  and  on  the  14tli 
of  April  the  battle  of  Mookerheyde  was  fought, 
on  the  island  formed  by  the  Waal  and  the 
Rhine. 

Count  Louis  of  Nassau's  last  battle !  He  lies 
unrecognized  among  the  heaps  of  dead  on  the 
heath  of  Mook  ;  whether  slain  in  the  thick  of  the 
fight,  drowned  in  attempting  to  swim  the  river, 
or  burnt  in  the  barns  into  which  the  Spaniards 
drove  the  fugitives  after  the  battle,  no  one  living 
on  earth  knows. 

The  Prince  has  lost  his  right  hand.  For  a 
long  time  he  would  not  believe  his  brother's 
death ;  and  wrote  many  a  letter  to  him  which 
his  eyes  might  never  see.  It  is  wonderful  how 
disastrous  the  Prince  and  the  Count's  campaigns 
have  been ;  army  after  army,  collected  at  such 
cost,  perishing  at  one  blow,  as  at  Jemmingen 
and  Mook,  or  melting  into  their  elements,  as  in 
the  Prince's  two  campaigns.  It  must  be  a  mis- 
erable, depressing  post  to  command  these  sordid 
mercenaries,  bound  to  the  leader  by  scarcely  any 
tie  but  pay.  It  seems  to  be  a  game  in  which 
the  Avorst  must  almost  necessarily  succeed  best. 
The  Prince  strictly  forbade  all  plunder,  or  injury 
of  unarmed  peasants  and  citizens.  The  Duke 
of  Alva  deliberately  pays  the  arrears  of  his  sol- 
diers, by  giving  up  innocent  cities  to  be  sacked, 
and  encourages  every  kind  of  atrocity. 

But  Mark  said,  nevertheless,  the  events  of  the 
day  after  the  terrible  slaughter  of  Mook  are  bet- 


THE   LIBERATION    OP    HOLLAND.  359 

ter  than  any  victoi-y.  The  Spanish  army  muti- 
nied the  mornino;  after  the  battle. 

Any  symptoms  of  a  flaw  in  that  most  terrible 
weapon  of  destruction,  Alva's  army,  are,  Mark 
says,  the  best  gleams  of  hope  we  can  desire  to 
see.  For  more  than  two  years,  it  is  said,  their 
pay,  so  terribly  well  earned,  has  been  withheld. 

Truyken  says  it  seems  as  if  King  Philip  thought 
his  soldiers  ought  to  be  content  with  the  devil's 
wages  for  the  devil's  work  they  do.  They,  poor 
Avretched  men,  risk  body  and  soul  to  do  his  bid- 
ding, and  the  only  wages  he  bestows  on  them  is 
death. 

Three  thousand  of  the  mutineers  marched  into 
Antwerp,  and  encamped  in  the  Great  Square. 
They  erected  an  altar  on  bales  of  plundered 
merchandise,  and  celebrated  mass  on  it,  in  the 
open  air,  on  the  spot  where,  not  long  before, 
Fabricius  had  been  martyred.  For  some  weeks 
they  lived  on  the  forced  contributions  of  the 
terrified  citizens,  until  at  length  Requesens,  the 
Grand  Commander,  who  has  succeeded  Alva, 
paid  them  from  the  same  source,  compelling  the 
burghers,  who  had  already  been  half-ruined  by 
the  mutineers,  to  disburse  four  hundred  thousand 
crowns  to  liquidate  King  Philip's  debt  to  his 
army. 

The  mutiny  is  over  now ;  but  the  weapon, 
once  broken,  may,  many  think,  break  again  at 
the  same  point. 

And  now  Mark  is  with  the  Prince  of  Orange 


3G0  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAI^D. 

at  Delft,  and  we  are  besieged  in  Leyden,  in  which, 
we  took  refuge  on  the  approach  of  the  Spanish 
army.  Ah-eady,  they  say,  the  Spanish  hnes  are 
complete ;  and  we  are  girded  with  a  circle  of 
forts.  It  is  a  sore  trial  to  be  thus  separated* 
again  ;  but  I  do  believe  it  is  for  the  best.  Mark 
can  do  much  more  for  us  where  he  is  than  he 
could  cooped  up  here ;  and  with  him  and  tho 
Prince  of  Orange  free  to  work  for  us,  I  know  all 
that  is  possible  will  be  done.  Sometimes  when 
I  think  of  the  comfort  it  is  to  know  that  Mark 
and  the  Prince  are  caring  for  us,  I  reproach  my- 
self with  not  feeling  infinitely  more  comfort  in 
the  knowledge  that  God  cares  for  us.  It  must 
be  from  a  lingering  and  ungrateful  doubt  that 
love  with  Him  does  not  mean  the  watchful,  ten- 
der consideration  it  does  between  Mark  and  me ; 
and  also  from  a  dim  sense  of  guilt,  which  we 
need  to  confess  and  have  forgiyen.  I  will  trust 
more. 

June  15th. — The  house  Mark  found  for  us  here 
is  small,  and  would  not  contain  all  our  house- 
hold. Accordingly,  all  the  six  orphans  have 
been  received  by  John  and  Christina  van  Broek. 
Our  family  therefore  consists  only  of  Dolores, 
Truyken,  Mayken,  and  me,  with  old  Jacob  Clae- 
sen  and  his  wife. 

June  IQth. — John  van  Broek  was  killed  last 
night  by  a  stray  shot  as  he  stood  on  his  own 


THE    LIBEEATION    OF    HOLLAND.  361 

house-top  looking  out  on  the  enemy's  works. 
He  hvecl  only  a  few  hours  after  the  ball  struck 
him.  lie  said  little,  and  that  was  to  Chris- 
tina : 

'  "  I  have  toiled  and  planned  much  to  make  a 
princely  home  for  thee.  The  Lord  has  willed  it 
otherwise.  But  I  believe  he  knows  best.  Since 
I  have  seen  thee  with  the  orphans,  I  have  under- 
stood better  what  will  make  thee  happiest.  I 
see  now  that  splendour  is  not  the  best  thing  for 
thee  ;  nor  poverty,  if  God  willed  it  so,  the  worst. 
I  think  thy  life  will  not  be  dreary  without  me 
now.  There  is  enough  left  yet  to  support  a 
comfortable  home  such  as  we  have  been  used  to. 
But  perhaps  there  are  better  things  to  live  for 
than  I  have  mostly  cared  about.  I  shall  like  to 
think  that  when  I  am  gone,  the  wealth  I  have 
gathered  too  eagerly  will  be  better  spent  by 
thee." 

As  she  wept  much,  he  added : 
"  Dear  wife,  I  have  loved  thee  dearly,  though, 
if  I  had  understood  thee  and  God's  will  better, 
thy  life  and  mine  might  have  been  more  blessed. 
Yet  it  will  be  sweet  to  thee  to  hope  we  shall 
meet  again.  It  is  a  precious  hope  to  me.  One 
who  was  rich  became  poor  for  us ;  and  thou 
wilt  understand  what  He  calls  riches  better  than 
I  have.  But  His  blood.  His  precious  blood,  not 
silver  or  gold,  has  redeemed  us ;  and  through 
His  poverty,  my  love,  thou  and  I  may  yet  be 
rich  indeed,  and  share  a  glorious  home." 
31 


362  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAXD. 

-Then,  looking  on  the  orphans,  who  were 
brought  to  wish  him  good-bye,  he  said  to  her : 

"  Bring  these  with  thee — all." 

And  murmuring  again  and  asjain  the  name  of 
Jesus,  he  expired.  « 

I  had  scarcely  thought  his  death  would  have 
been  such  a  sorrow  to  Christina,  they  seemed 
to  have  so  little  in  common :  their  companion- 
ship seemed  so  difterent  from  the  entire  com- 
munion of  thought  and  feeling  between  Mark 
and  me. 

But  the  power  of  that  habit  of  living  together, 
the  daily  intertwining  of  life  in  all  its  little 
homely  details,  how  strong  it  is  !  And  Chris- 
tina said : 

"  I  never  knew  how  he  loved  me,  I  never 
knew  hovv'  I  loved  him,  till  he  lay  there  dying, 
and  spoke  those  words  to  me." 

Had  he  ever  spoken  such  words  before? 
Alas !  that  sometimes  nothing  but  the  terrible 
wrench  of  death  seems  to  pierce  the  dykes  which 
keep  the  tide  of  love  iq  one  heart  from  flowing 
freely  into  another. 

But,  thank  God,  they  were  words  of  hope ; 
and  by  degrees  I  feel  sure  they  will  lead  her  on- 
ward and  upward. 

June  23(f. — After  John  van  Broek's  funeral, 
we  all  removed  at  Christina's  request  into  her 
large  house,  as  the  position  of  ours  was  rather 
exposed  to  the  eiiemy's  fire.     It  is  situated  on 


THE   LIBERATION    OF    HOLLA>T).  363 

the  banks  of  one  of  the  large  canals  wliieli  thread 
the  city.  A  row  of  lime-trees  stands  before  it. 
It  is  an  orphan  asylum  already,  and  seems  likely 
to  become  an  hospital,  since  Ursel  and  Truyken 
this  morning  brought  a  wounded  soldier  into 
one  of  the  large  rooms  on  the  ground  floor. 

The  whole  city  is  now  put  on  rations  to  econ- 
omize the  provisions  :  half  a  pound  of  bread  and 
half  a  pound  of  meat  for  every  full-grown  man, 
and  less  in  proportion  for  women  and  children 
and  the  aged. 

The  magistrates  have  bought  in  every  frag- 
ment of  food  from  rich  and  poor,  that  they  may 
distribute  it  equitably,  like  Joseph  in  the  Egyp- 
tian famine. 

Christina  would  accept  no  payment.  She  said 
she  was  sure  her  husband  would  not  have  wished 
it.  I  was  with  her  as  she  inspected  every  store- 
cupboard,  and  herself  gave  all  their  carefully- 
prepared  contents  into  the  hands  of  the  officers. 
When  they  had  gone,  she  looked  round  on 
the  empty  shelves  with  a  slight  quivering  of  the 
lip.  It  was  a  farewell  to  her  old  life.  And 
then  she  smiled ;  and,  taking  my  hands  in  hers, 
she  said : 

"  They  are  as  bare  as  Ursel  would  wish  to  see 
them  now.  We  will  gather  into  other  barns 
henceforth." 

It  was  her  first  smile  since  John's  death ;  and, 
as  was  natural,  it  ended  in  a  flood  of  tears.  And 
then  she  said : 


364  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

"  My  heart  was  never  bound  up  in  the  things, 
Costanza,  but  I  thought  they  were  duties,  and  I 
did  not  quite  see  the  great  world  of  love  and 
work  beyond  which  our  Saviour  has  opened  to 
us.  But  now  that  the  old  routine  of  habit  is 
broken,  I  see  it  was  a  chain.  And  in  the  world 
of  love  and  freedom,  into  which  John  has  en- 
tered, please  God,  henceforth  I  will  live,  al- 
though it  can  be  only  in  a  very  humble  place  at 
the  threshold.  You  will  help  me,  and  Dolores, 
and  Ursel." 

June  2bth. — Our  work  is  naturally  distributing 
itself  among  us  according  to  our  various  capa- 
cities ;  for  in  this  beleaguered  city  no  workers 
can  be  spared.  The  garrison  consists  only  of 
one  small  corps  of  volunteers,  and  five  companies 
of  the  burgher  guard.  The  citizens,  unfortu- 
nately, were  so  confident  of  Count  Louis'  suc- 
cess, when  his  invasion  drew  off  the  Spanish 
force,  and  raised  the  siege  on  the  21st  March, 
that  they  suffered  all  the  precious  weeks,  be- 
tween that  day  and  the  24th  of  May,  Avhen  Val- 
dez  reappeared  before  the  walls,  to  slip  away 
without  strengthening  the  garrison,  victualling 
the  city,  or  repairing  their  defenses.  The  Prince 
remonstrated  in  vain ;  but  with  his  usual  for- 
bearing generosity,  now  that  rebuke  would  be 
fruitless,  he  utters  no  reproaches,  but  has  writ- 
ten a  noble  letter  of  hearty  counsel  to  the  citi- 
zens, entreating  them  to  hold  out  only  three 


THE    LIBEKATIOX    OF    HOLLAND.  3G5 

months,  and  if  man  can  accomplish  it,  he  will 
relieve  them. 

"  It  is  more  than  I  would  have  dtme !"  said 
Truyken,  when  she  heard  it,  her  indignation  at 
the  procrastination  of  the  magistrates  being  un- 
bounded. "  Better,"  said  she,  "  that  clever  Seig- 
neur van  Does,  whom  they  have  appointed  com- 
mandant of  the  garrison,  had  been  j^roviding  a 
garrison,  and  buying  them  bread,  than  waiting 
his  fine  Latin  verses,  which  they  are  so  proud 
of." 

She  thinks  much  more  highly  of  the  burgo- 
master, Van  der  Werf,  literary  accomplishments 
being  always  in  Truyken's  eyes  infirmities  which 
need  a  great  deal  to  compensate  for  them. 

Truyken  (after  fulfilling  the  culinary  duties, 
which  she  will  suifer  no  one  to  interfere  with) 
works  on  the  rampai'ts,  wheeling  stones  to  repair 
breaches,  assisting  the  masons,  melting  the  pitch 
for  the  burning  hoops,  which  are  hurled  on  the 
assailants,  helping  to  remove  the  wounded,  or 
employing  herself  in  any  service  which  strong- 
Frisian  arms  and  a  brave  heart  can  render. 

She  has  organized  a  few  other  women  into  a 
kind  of  corps  for  similar  work.  From  her,  when 
she  returns  in  the  evening,  we  derive  most  of 
our  information  as  to  the  progress  of  the  siege. 

On  me  and  Mayken  devolve  the  orphans. 
Christina's  soft  voice  and  touch  cannot  be  spared 
from  the  wounded.  Dolores  assists  in  the  hos- 
pital. Ursel's  spirits  seem  to  rise  with  the  emer- 
31* 


366  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

gency.  She  is  often  on  the  ramparts  with  Truy- 
ken,  rendering  any  service  needed,  moving  about 
among  the  bullets,  they  say,  as  quietly  as  if  they 
were  snow-flakes,  and  bending  down  and  bind- 
ing many  a  wound  with  the  precious  stores  from 
Christina's  linen-presses  ;  or,  when  life  is  ebbing, 
breathing  words  of  Christian  j^romise  and  faith 
into  the  ear  of  the  dying.  I  suppose  from  her, 
as  from  the  Frisian  martyr's  wife,  "  fear  has  fallen 
like  a  garment."  I  am  told  that  few  speak  such 
quiet  words  of  power  as  she  does,  and  as  I  look 
on  her  face  when  she  returns,  I  can  believe  it. 
The  light  of  communion  with  God  is  on  it.  It 
is  no  mere  natural  courage  which  leads  her  on  ; 
and  in  the  evenings  at  home  she  is  so  gentle  and 
humble,  her  whole  nature  seems  at  rest,  like  a 
swan  that  has  found  its  element,  and  glides  easily 
and  majestically  along. 

Dolores  has  accompanied  her  at  times ;  but 
visually  she  is  required  in  the  hospital  at  home, 
where  certainly  courage  is  as  much  required  in 
dressing  the  terrible  wounds. 

Juhj  \st. — The  citizens  are  foi'bidden  to  make 
any  more  sorties.  At  first,  rewards  were  offered 
for  the  head  of  a  Spanish  soldier,  and  many  were 
brought.  But  the  life  of  those  with  any  thing 
of  a  soldier's  training  is  too  precious  to  be  risked 
in  such  expeditions  now.  The  whole  city  has 
become  a  garrison,  and  every  fighting  man  in  it 
is  valuable,  as  an  officer  among  ordinary  troops. 


THE   LIBERATION   OF    HOLLAND.  367 

In  the  evening,  I  went  np  with  Dolores  to  the 
great  round  tower,  built,  they  say,  by  the  Ro- 
mans, on  a  height  in  the  middle  of  the  city,  and 
looked  from  anions^  the  oaks  which  ffrow  ainono; 
the  ruins,  on  the  broad  expanse  of  country  around 
the  city.  These  Dutch  landscapes  always  had  a 
great  charm,  in  their  cool  freshness,  for  my 
southern  eyes,  and,  lately,  Dolores  had  began  to 
enjoy  them.  Below  us  the  beleaguered  city, 
with  the  low  light  gleaming  here  and  there  on 
its  canals,  or  on  the  waving  tops  of  the  limes  and 
poplars  ;  and  beyond,  the  green  plains,  broken 
by  dykes,  dotted  with  villages  peeping  through 
their  woods  and  orchards ;  whilst,  here  and 
there,  canals,  and  long  shallow  creeks,  brought 
sunny  rifts  of  golden  sky  down  among  the  fields, 
and,  in  the  distance,  the  spires  of  far-ofi"  towns 
and  cities  rose  in  delicate  purjjle  lines  against 
the  sunset.  Friendly  cities  which  would  fain 
aid  us  in  our  need,  but  which  are  kept  from  us 
.  by  these  terrible  lines  of  Spanish  embankments, 
manned  with  ferocious  troops,  encircling  the 
city;  and  especially,  at  not  more  than  three 
hundred  rods  from  the  walls,  by  the  di-eaded 
forts  of  Lammen,  Leyderdorp,  and  Zoeterwoude, 
were  every  now  and  then  belching  out  fire  and 
smoke,  with  the  thunder  of  artillery.  Here  and 
there  smouldered  the  ruins  of  houses  which  had 
been  set  on  fire  by  balls.  Among  these  was  the 
little  house  we  had  first  lived  in  on  our  arrival 
at  Leyden.     It  is  very  strange  and  sad  to  Do- 


3C8  THK   LIBERATION   OF   HOLLAa'D. 

lores  aud  me  to  tliinlc  that  this  beleaguering 
force  are  mostly  our  own  countrymen,  speaking 
our  mother  tongue.  It  prevents  our  looking  on 
them,  as  so  many  around  us  do,  as  beings  be- 
lonsfingf  rather  to  hell  tlian  earth.  It  is  no  won- 
der  the  Dutch  should  look  on  that  invincible 
army  as  something  mighty  and  malignant,  be- 
yond the  feeble  range  of  mortal  creatures,  and 
wdien  once  roused  to  resistance,  should  repay 
ferocity  by  ferocity.  But  'we  know  the  language 
these  men  lisped  when  they  were  little  children, 
aud  in  which  they  appeal  for  help  and  sympathy 
when  death  or  pain  come  upon  them.  Woe  to 
those  who  have  made  out  of  thousands  of  human 
hearts  one  such  murderous,  inhuman  machine  of 
torture  and  desti"Uction,  rending  them  from  every 
influence  which  could  soften  or  hallow,  filling 
them  with  every  passion  and  prejudice  that  can 
brutalize  and  harden,  and  for  a  religion  which 
inspires  love,  giving  them  a  superstition  which 
inculcates  hatred,  and  sanctions  every  crime  \ 
thus,  mouldhig  them  into  a  celibate  priesthood 
of  Satan.  The  prejudice  and  ignorance  of  these 
wretched  men,  with  regard  to  the  Protestants, 
is  beyond  belief.  At  Haarlem,  a  captive  soldier 
endeavoured  to  save  his  life  by  promising,  if  the 
citizens  would  spare  him,  to  '•'•  fall  down  and  loor- 
sli'tp  the  devil,  just  as  tliey  did.''''  The  hatred  on 
both  sides  is  unutterable.  Many  of  the  Catholic 
soldiers  seriously  believe  we  are  devil-worship- 
pers, whom  it  is  a  duty  to  hunt  from  the  earth 


THE    LIBERATION   OF   HOLLAND.  369 

like  noisome  beasts  ;  and  the  Protestants  have 
too  much  reason,  indeed,  to  beheve  that  the 
sacrifices  which  Alva  and  his  army  offer,  "  are 
made  to  devils,  and  not  to  God."  But  when  I 
think  that  Avithin  the  city  and  around  it  all  are 
human  creatures  made  of  one  blood,  redeemed 
by  the  precious  blood  of  One,  the  thought  so 
overpowers  me  with  misery,  that  if  I  dwelt  on 
it,  I  could  be  of  no  service  to  any  one,  but  could 
lie  down  and  die. 

Juhj  ZQth. — The  bread  is  finished.  Now  we 
are  to  begin  on  such  substitutes  for  it  as  remain ; 
such  as  malt-cake.  Two  of  the  three  months 
the  Prince  appointed  as  the  limit  of  our  endur- 
ance have  more  than  expired ;  and  not  a  hope 
of  deliverance  has  appeared.  To-day  an  especial 
offer  of  pardon  has  been  received  from  General 
Valdez,  couched  in  the  most  tempting  and  lib- 
eral terms.  It  was  as  coldly  responded  to  as 
.the  general  amnesty  to  the  ISTetherlands  two 
months  since.  There  are  two  considerations 
which  make  death  better  than  submission  on  the 
terms  of  this  pardon.  The  first  is,  that  all  relig- 
ious liberty  is  denied.  The  pardon  is  only  for 
penitents  returning  to  the  bosom  of  the  church. 
And  the  second  is,  that  the  Spanish  authorities 
have  for  ever  blotted  out  all  their  future  pardons 
and  promises  by  their  former  treachery.  Cross- 
ing out  every  smooth  promise  or  affectionate 
entreaty,  we  see  two  words  written  in  blood, 


370  THE    LIBEEATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

"  Naarden !"  "  Haarlem  !"  and  while  the  mem- 
ory of  these  remains,  the  Prince  need  not  fear 
that  Leyden  will  trust  herself  to  any  Spanish 
amnesties. 

August  12ih. — A  letter  has  arrived  from  the 
Prince.  His  words  always  comfort  us  like 
deeds ;  we  are  so  sure  of  their  truth.  With  it 
came  a  few  words  from  Mark  to  me.  They  are 
the  first  I  have  had  from  liira,  except  one  little 
billet  borne  by  a  carrier-pigeon.  This  last  was 
brought  by  one  of  the  brave  swift  messengers 
they  call  Jumpers,  who,  at  the  risk  of  life,  pene- 
trate to  us  now  and  then  through  the  enemy's 
lines.     He  writes  : 

"  All  Holland  is  moving  every  power  to  save 
you.  An  army  to  oppose  the  besiegers  cannot 
be  raised.  Our  hope  is  from  the  sea.  On  Au- 
gust the  2d,  we  went  with  the  Prince  along  the 
Yssel  as  far  as  Kappelle,  and  saw  the  dykes 
pierced  in  sixteen  places.  To  this  ruin  of  their 
property  the  States  have  consented,  to  deliver 
you.  Meantime  stores  and  food  have  been  col- 
lected in  every  city ;  and  when  once  the  sea  is 
admitted,  any  nrorning  you  may  wake  and  see 
the  fleet  of  rescue  under  your  walls,  and  every 
enemy  swept  away.  God  cares  for  you,  and  we 
are  straining  every  nerve." 

I  do  feel  hopeful,  although  that  vision  of  the 
'fleet  seems  too  bright  to  dwell  on.     The  possible 
contrary  looks  so  dark  beside  it. 


THE   LIBERATION   OF   HOLLAND,  371 

* 

August  17 ih.— I  noticed  that  Ursel  did  not 
seem  elated  as  we  all  are  by  IMark's  letter. 
When  we  were  alone,  I  asked  her  why. 

"To  tell  you  the  truth,"  she  said,  "I  have  no 
hope.  I  have  never  had  any.  I  never  expect, 
at  least  for  myself,  to  see  Mark  again.  I  have 
been  up  on  the  tower  every  evening  as  I  returned 
from  the  ramparts,  and  the  water  has  only  risen 
a  few  inches ;  enough  to  ruin  the  land,  indeed, 
but  not  half  enough  to  float  a  fleet.  And  if,  in- 
•deed,  the  dykes  are  pierced,  what  is  to  cause 
any  fresh  rush  of  water  ?" 

"  Ursel,"  I  said,  "  God  caused  the  sea  to  go 
back  once  by  a  strong  east  wind,  to  rescue  His 
people  of  old.  Why  should  lie  not  make  it 
come  forward  by  a  strong  west  wind  now? 
Truyken  says  it  is  quite  possible."  • 

"  All  things  are  possible  with  Him,"  said  Ur- 
sel ;  "  but  St.  Paul's  prayer  for  a  prosperous  jour- 
ney to  Rome  was  answered  by  a  shipwreck." 

"Yet  he  reached  Pwome,"  I  said,  "and  the 
lives  of  all  in  the  ship  were  given  him,  and  per- 
haps the  souls  of  not  a  few  Avho  saw  the  power 
of  his  prayer  and  faith.  Ursel,  St.  Paul's  ship- 
wreck makes  me  hope." 

"  Why  should  you  not  hope  ?"  she  replied ;  "  I 
only  said  /  cannot." 

"  HoAV  then  are  you  sustained  ?"  I  asked. 

"By  God!"  she  s^iid,  solemnly;  "whatever 
He  has  decreed  will  happen,  and  will  be  well." 

"  O  Ursel,"  I  said,  "  I  like  better  to  think  of 


372  THE    LIBERATION   OF    HOLLAND, 

« 

His  presence  than  His  decrees.  Decrees  make 
me  think  of  dead  parchments  and  a  dim  unknown 
past ;  His  presence  is  that  of  a  living,  loving 
Father,  and  on  that  my  heart  can  rest.  To  His 
decrees  I  must  submit.  His  presence  makes  me 
pray.  The  thought  of  His  immutable  foreor- 
daining closes  my  heart  in  silent  reverence.  The 
thought  of  His  now,  to-day,  living  and  listening 
and  caring  for  me,  opens  my  heart  in  trustful 
communion  and  entreaty.  I  think  of  Him,  not 
as  immutable,  irresistible  will,  but  as  unquench- 
able love.  I  think  of  His  hand,  not  as  engraving 
unchangeable  decrees  in  some  unconceivable 
past,  but  as  feeding  the  ravens,  and  binding  up 
the  broken  heart  to-day.  O  Ursel,  I  trust  and 
pray,  and  therefore  I  must  hope." 

"  We  have  a  hope,"  said  Ursel,  "an  inheritance 
incorruptible,  undefiled,  unfading,  laid  up  for  us 
in  heaven.  Besides,"  she  added,  with  a  slight 
sadness,  "  I  did  not  say  you  should  not  hope,  but 
that  I  could  not.  Costanza,"  she  added,  abruj^tly, 
"I  will  tell  you.  Ever  since  the  siege  began  I 
have  had  a  feeling  I  should  not  survive  it.  Do 
not  try  to  comfort  me.  It  does  not  make  me 
unhappy  ;  it  only  helps  to  make  me  fearless.  If 
I  do  not  see  Mark  again,  as  I  believe  I  never 
shall,  you  need  not  tell  him  how  truly  I  loved 
him  to  the  last.  He  will  know.  But  tell  him 
that  more  than  any  human  words,  his  have  been 
blessed  to  me,  even  when  I  controverted 
them." 


THE   LIBEKATIOX    OF    HOLLAND.  373 

I  did  not  reason  with  Ursel.  But  I  do  feel, 
on  thinking  over  her  words,  they  ought  not  to 
depress  me.  Day  after  day  her  heart  and  mind 
have  been  strained  to  the  utmost  amonir  the 
dying  and  the  dead  ;  and  lately  she  looks  as  if 
she  had  been  but  poorly  fed.  She  will  not  make 
allowance  for  the  body.  But  I  will  take  warn- 
ing, and  try  to  do  so.  Because  my  eyes  are 
sometimes  a  httle  dim  with  fatigue  and  faintness, 
I  Avill  try  not  to  think  God's  heaven  is  shrouded  ; 
but  it  is  hard  sometimes.  Tears  veil  the  heavens 
as  well  as  cljDuds — and  when  clouds  are  there, 
too !  Ursel  is  not  in  the  least  more  likely  to 
die,  because  she  thinks  she  will ;  nor  is  May- 
ken,  because  I  fear  it  often,  when  my  heart  is 
heavy. 

August  2\st. — To-day  the  citizens  replied  to 
the  Prince's  letter  of  the  12tli,  by  saying  thit 
they  had  now  held  out  as  long  as  he  counselled 
them,  "two  months  with  food  and  one  with 
famine  ;"  that  now  the  malt-cake  would  only  last 
four  days  longer,  and  after  that  came  absolute 
starvation.  This  very  evening,  however,  a  letter 
has  been  received  from  the  Prince  (not,  of  course, 
a  reply),  telling  us  that  all  the  dykes  are  pierced, 
and  that  on  the  Land  Scheiding,  the  great  dyke 
five  miles  distant,  the  water  is  rising  fist. 

This  letter  was  read  publicly  in  the  market- 
place, and  the  burgomaster  Van  der  Werf,  cele- 
brated the  good  news  by  bands  of  music  parad- 
32 


374  THE    LIBEEATIOJ^^    OF    HOLLAND. 

ing  the  streets,  and  salutes  of  cannon,  which 
must  have  perj^lexed  the  enemy. 

Angust  2lih. — The  burst  of  j^remature  triumph 
has  brought  its  reaction.  Never  have  I  seen  the 
city  so  despairing.  Xo  tidings  reach  us  from 
our  friends ;  whilst  letters  from  the  enemy,  and, 
worse  still,  from  Dutchmen  in  his  camp,  traitors 
to  their  country,  are  constantly  being  shot  into 
the  streets,  promising  pardon,  and  exhorting  the 
citizens  to  have  compassion  on  their  wives  and 
sisters  and  on  the  aged.  But  still,  .desperate  as 
our  case  is,  the  answer  in  every  heart  is,  "  Naar- 
den !  Haarlem !"  "  Any  death  rather  than  that 
the  Spanish  army  would  bring  !" 

At  last  the  daily  supply  of  malt-cake  has 
ceased  to  come  from  the  magistrates.  A  month 
ago  the  bread  was  changed  for  this ;  and  now 
this  is  finished.  What  we  shall  do  with  our 
large  household,  God  only  knows !  A  small 
supply  is  sent  us  of  meat,  enough  for  a  few 
mouthfuls  each.  The  first  day  we  had  nothing 
until  the  evening,  and  then  Truyken  brought  in 
a  strange  dish  of  greens.  This  has  been  repeated 
since,  but  Truyken  forbids  any  inquiry  as.  to  her 
kitchen  arrangements. 

Then  famine  and  terror  are  bringing  super- 
stitious fears  into  many  hearts.  For  as  long  as 
there  is  guilt  among  Protestants,  there  will  be 
superstition,  although  the  old  forms  of  it  may  have 
perished.     The  few  Royalists  and  Papists  in  the 


THE   LIBERATION"    OF    HOLLAND.  375 

city  begin  to  speak  oi^enly,  and  reproach  us  Avith 
impiety  and  rebellion.  "  Go  up  to  the  tower,  ye 
beggars,"  they  say,  "  and  see  if  the  l^Ieuse  is 
coming  to  save  you  !" 

Truyken,  whose  method  of  resistance  is  always 
of  the  nature  of  the  sortie  rather  than  of  retiring 
behind  the  walls,  retorts  bitterly,  as  of  old  on 
the  image-breakers.  "  When  the  Almighty  sends 
His  army,"  she  said,  "  He  will  not  send  trum- 
peters before  it  as  you  would."  "  The  sea  will 
not  save  you  when  it  comes,  any  more  than  it 
did  King  Pharaoh." 

Among  the  Protestants  superstition  takes  the 
form  of  small  scruples.  The  other  day  a  minis- 
ter inveighed  most  vehemently  in  the  pulpit, 
against  the  mottoes  which  have  been  engraven 
on  the  paper-money,  Avhich  now  serves  us  instead 
of  small  coin.  The  mottoes  are,  Pugiio  pro  Pa- 
Iria,  and  JIaec  Liber  talis  ergo.  The  preacher  said 
it  ought  to  have  been  religionis  instead  of  liber- 
tatis,  and  so  bitterly  and  personally  attacked  the 
magistrates  who  were  present,  that  a  high-spir- 
ited young  officer,  sitting  in  the  pew  with  them, 
proposed  to  the  burgomaster  Van  der  Werf,  to 
bring  the  minister  down  with  a  pistol.  The 
burgomaster  withheld  him,  and  patiently  lis- 
tened to  the  rest  of  the  attack.  This  did  not 
please  Truyken. 

"I  have  always  thought,"  she  said,  "that  if  a 
few  of  the  clergy  were  shot  on  all  sides,  things 
would  go  on  much  better,  and  it  was  a  great 


376  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

pity  the  good  burgomaster  missed  the  opportu- 
nity." 

Old  Jacob  Claesen  remonstrated,  but  Hade- 
wylc  turned  on  him  and  said  : 

"  Thy  religion  is  good  for  thee ;  but  if  the 
magistrates  and  the  army  take  it  up,  the  world 
will  soon  come  to  an  end." 

Timid  consciences  are  troubled,  and  some  begin 
to  go  over  the  grounds  why  they  left  the  old 
Church,  and  to  wonder  whether,  after  all,  God 
is  displeased.  I  used  at  first  to  be  afraid  Truyken 
would  look  on  all  this  trouble  as  a  judgment 
from  God,  but  she  set  me  at  rest  on  this  point 
by  saying : 

"  No,  no.  I  can  never  believe  the  Almighty 
would  send  the  devil  as  His  executioner,  much 
as  the  Duke  of  Alva  wanted  us  all  to  think  so. 
He,"  she  added,  reverently,  "has  sent  us  the 
Prince.  That  was  what  Job's  friends  wanted 
him  to  believe  when  he  was  sitting  in  the  dust. 
The  devil  was  tormenting  him,  and  they  wanted 
him  to  beheve  God  was  punishing  him,  instead 
of  letting  the  devil  do  him  good  without  intend- 
ing it,  by  bruising  some  of  the  pride  out  of  him. 
No,  the  Lord  is  very  pitiful.  May  he  preserve  me 
from  confounding  His  words  with  those  of  Satan." 

'^You  have  read  the  Book  of  Job,  then, 
Truyken  ?"  said  I,  hoping  to  draw  her  a  little 
further. 

"No,  indeed,"  she  replied;  "I  never  read 
any  thing." 


THE    LIBEKATION    OF    HOLLAND.  377 

And  then  I  remeinbei'ecl  how  she  always  lis- 
tened at  our  family  prayers  in  Friesland. 

Since  we  came  here,  old  Jacob  has  been  con- 
fined to  his  bed.  But,  in  the  evening,  we,  in- 
cluding the  orphans  and  Christina,  always  gather 
around  him,  and  he  repeats  us  a  psalm,  and  offers 
up  a  simple  prayer,  as  of  old.  He  is  certainly 
failing. 

August  2Uh. — Day  after  day,  our  watchmen 
have  gone  up  on  the  tower,  and  not  a  friendly 
sign  has  shone  upon  us  from  all  the  country 
round.  Yesterday,  Truyken,  Dolores,  and  I 
ascended  the  height  together.  Beyond  and 
around  the  besieging  force  spread,  indeed,  in- 
stead of  the  green  meadows,  with  cattle  brows- 
ing in  them,  and  pleasant  villages  among  the 
orchards,  a  wide  waste  of  shallow  waters.  But 
above  these  still  rose  dyke  after  dyk(3,  walling 
us  in  too  effectually  from  the  ocean.  It  was  sad 
to  see  the  patient  labour  of  years  destroyed,  and 
yet  no  chance  of  its  bringing  us  deliverance. 
Tau'nts  had  often  reached  us  from  the  besiegers  : 
"  As  soon  will  the  Prince  of  Orange  pluck  the 
stars  from  heaven,  as  bring  the  sea  to  you." 
And,  truly,  this  wilderness  of  submerged  land 
was  no  sea. 

It  seemed  as  if  all  had  forgotten  us,  and  too 
often  we  were  tempted  to  think  that  some  im- 
penetrable barrier  kept  our  prayers  from  reach- 
ing heaven,  as  well  as  our  friends  from  reaching 
32* 


378  THE  libekxVtio:n'  of  Holland. 

us.  To-ilay  the  citizens  sent  a  piteous  appeal  to 
the  Estates,  complaining  that  the  city  had  been 
forirotten  in  its  sorest  need. 

The  very  same  evening  came  the  reply  from 
the  Estates : 

"  Rather  will  v/e  see  our  whole  land  and  all 
our  possessions  perish  in  the  waves,  than  forsake 
thee,  Leyden.  We  knov/  full  Avell,  moreover, 
that  with  Leyden  all  Holland  must  perish." 

There  is  little  heart  among  us  now  for  salvoes 
of  artillery  or  bands  of  music ;  but  the  faithful, 
hearty  words  were  greeted  with  many  a  blessing 
and  many  a  silent  tear.  They  will  do  all  they 
can.  And  God,  who  can  do  all  things,  will  do 
all  that  is  good. 

August  SOth. — I  have  discovered  vrhat  Truy- 
ken's  greens  are.  Yesterday  evening,  I  wondered 
to  see  several  branches  of  the  limes  in  front  of 
our  windows  stripped  of  their  Summer  leaves. 
This  morning,  very  early,  when  I  ojjened  the 
window  of  the  room  where  the  sick  are,  to  let 
in  a  little  air,  I  saw  a  figure  climbing  the  trees. 
In  a  few  minutes  a  boy  descended,  and  placed  a 
large  bundle  of  leaves  in  the  arms  of  Truyken, 
who  was  waiting  at  the  bottom  of  tlie  tree. 
Then  she  disappeared ;  and  at  breakfast  the 
strange  dish  was  seen  again. 

August  SI  St. — We  shall  have  no  more  lime- 
leaves  to  eat.     This  morning,  when  I  looked  out 


THE    LIBEEATIOX    OF    IIOLLxVND.  379 

again,  instead  of  the  f;iir  row  of  waving  Summer 
branches,  half  hiding  the  canal,  a  line  of  ghostly 
skeletons  stood  outside  the  door.  They  had 
been  stripped  of  every  leaf  in  the  night  by  other 
hands.  Truyken  stood  in  dismay  by  the  canal. 
I  went  out  to  her,  and  said : 

"  Truyken,  there  may  be  some  more  destitute 
even  than  we  are.  Let  us  go  and  see  what  we 
can  find." 

"  ISTo,"  she  said ;  "  you  shall  never  come  on 
such  an  errand.  You  do  not  know  what  sights 
there  are  in  the  city.  They  are  not  for  such  as 
you." 

"  Such  as  I !"  The  poor  loyal,  faithful  heart 
cannot  always  save  us  from  contact  with  the 
lowest  misery ! 

Seplemher  2d. — A  gleam  of  hope  !  Keen  eyes 
have  seen  masts  and  sails  not  more  than  five 
miles  off,  beyond  the  Land  Scheiding.  It  must 
be  the  Zealand  fleet. 

September  3d. — The  plague  is  amongst  us. 
This  morning  the  watch,  going  their  rounds, 
found  the  door  of  a  house  open,  entered  it,  and 
found  every  one  dead ;  those  who  had  died  first 
laid  reverently  out  on  beds,  and  the  last  stretched 
on  the  floor,  where  they  had  fainted. 

This  evening  a  little  infant  was  brought  us, 
taken  crying  from  her  dead  mother's  breast. 
.But  these  died  of  hunger,  not  of  the  plague. 


380  THE    LIBEEATIOX    OF    IIOLLAXD. 

September  Aih. — ^Tliey  are  very  solemn  gather- 
ings now  on  Sundays,  when  the  congregation  of 
famine-stricken,  ftiinting  creatures  assembles  at 
church.  But,  oh,  the  Bible  words,  how  living 
they  are  !  Thank  God,  there  is  a  bread  of  life 
that  never  fails  : — "  He  that  cometh  to  me  shall 
never  hunger ;  and  he  that  believeth  on  me  shall 
never  thirst."  It  is  true — true — true ;  although 
the  mortal  life  of  every  one  in  Leyden  failed 
from  hunger,  this  is  true.  And  the  hymns  !  for 
we  sing.  To  listen  to  the  poor,  feeble  voices, 
once  so  clear  and  strong !  and  yet  to  hear  from 
them  hymns  of  trust  and  praise !  This  must  be 
a  music  to  which  the  angels  stop  and  listen. 

September  bth. — My  poor  jDatient  child,  my 
Mayken  !  if  only  she  would  cry  and  moan  like 
the  other  children  do.  But  she  only  sits  silent, 
and  tries  to  cheer  the  others.  But  her  sweet, 
round  face  so  hollow,  and  her  eyes  so  sunken ! 
Thank  God,  Mark  is  not  here  !     Thank  God  ! 

September  8ih. — Old  Jacob  Claesen  is  dead ! 
There  are  so  many  deaths,  life  seems  the  wonder. 
I  only  mention  his,  because  it  was  not  a  sorrow. 
So  calm,  so  peaceful !     He  said : 

"  In  the  city  to  which  I  am  going,  the  inhabit- 
ants shall  never  say,  I  am  sick.  One  less,  my 
friends,  one  helpless  creature  less,  to  drain  your 
scanty  store  !  One  more  to  join  the  songs  of 
praise  !     You  cannot  grudge  me  my  joy." 


THE    LIBEKATIOX    OF    nOLLAXD.  381 

We  did  not  weep,  as  we  pressed  his  hand  in 
farewell.  It  seemed  only  like  crossing  a  few 
minutes  before  us  a  river  whose  shores  we  could 
all  see.    Only  Mayken  wept,  and  poor  Iladewyk. 

"  Dear  lamb,"  the  old  man  said,  "  thou  wilt 
see  brighter  days  on  earth  yet.  And,  my  best 
beloved,  our  parting  will  not  seem  long  when 
we  meet  aixain.  '  The  chariots  of  Israel,  and 
the  horsemen  thereof,' "  he  said,  and  very  soon 
he  ceased  to  breathe. 

Ursel  thinks  the  angels  came  to  take  him. 
Dolores  and  I  cannot  help  remembering  the  in- 
visible guard  around  the  beleagured  city  of  old. 
Were  the  eyes  of  the  old  man  in  this  the  dawn- 
ing of  his  immortal  youth,  opened  to  behold 
them,  lilce  those  of  the  young  man  of  Israel  ? 

It  has  often  comforted  us  since  to  think  so ; 
for  surely^  whether  he  saw  them  or  not,  those 
ministering  spirits  are  encamped  around  the 
city,  and  around  every  Christian  home  within 
it.  And  the  dying  do  prophesy  at  times. 
During  the  siege  of  Alkmaar,  shortly  before  it 
was  raised,  pastor  Arentzoon  died.  On  his 
death-bed,  he  called  his  friends  around  him,  and 
told  them  to  be  of  good  courage  ;  "  for,"  said 
he,  "  God  will  prosper  you,  and  the  enemy  shall 
not  take  the  town  this  time ;"  and  shortly  after- 
wards the  siege  was  raised.  Will  Mayken,  my 
patient  darling,  see  brighter  days  on  earth  yet  ? 
Nothing,  nothing,  O  God,  is  too  good  for  Thee 
to  give !     Thou  gavest  Thy  Son  ! 


382  THE    LIBEKATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

September  9(h. — Many  of  the  orphans  have 
died.  To-day  I  thought  Truyken  lookhig  so 
very  faint,  that  I  resolved,  in  spite  of  all  her  re- 
monstrances, to  follow  her  into  the  kitchen  with  a 
morsel  of  food  which  I  had  saved  from  our  meal. 

She  was  leaning  quite  powerless  against  the 
table.  I  laid  her  on  my  own  bed,  moistened 
her  lips  with  wine,  of  which  we  have  an  abun- 
dance, which  is  almost  a  mockery  of  our  wants, 
chafed  her  cold  hands,  and  forced  a  piece  of 
food  into  her  lips.  She  could  scarcely  swalloAV  it, 
but  it  revived  her,  and  then  she  struggled  to 
send  me  away. 

"  Mistress,  mistress  dear,"  she  said,  "  let  me 
die.  I  can  be  of  no  use  to  any  of  you  more,  and 
I  cannot  bear  to  see  you  want.  What  can  I  do 
for  you  but  cook  the  strange  food  into  some- 
thing you  can  eat  ?  And  now  there  is  nothing 
left.  I  can  do  nothing  more  for  you,  but  be  one 
less  to  drag  on  you.     Let  me  die." 

I  could  not  answer  her,  and  she  continued : 

"Perhaps  you  think  I  should  not  be  saved; 
and  you  cannot  bear  me  to  go  unless  you  know 
it  would  be  to  a  better  place.  I  think  it  would. 
I  know  my  Saviour  died  for  me,  and  I  have 
learned  to  trust  in  Him,  and  in  none  beside.  I 
think  He  will  take  me.  So,  mistress,  you  need 
not  fear  to  let  me  go.  Think  of  the  master. 
Think  of  the  darling  child.  You  have  many 
dearer  to  you  than  me.  You  must  think  of 
them,  and  let  me  go." 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  383 

"  Never,"  I  said,  "  Truyken,  never,  if  I  can 
save  you.  In  an  hour  I  will  be  back.  Promise 
to  lie  still  till  then." 

Her  eyes  followed  me  wistfully,  and  she  saidj. 
as  I  left  the  room : 

"Poor  lamb,  she  is  going  to  get  food.  She 
will  find  none.  She  little  knows  what  I  have 
brought  home  these  last  days." 

I  went  to  the  house  of  the  burgomaster,  Van 
der  Werf ;  but  when  I  readied  his  door,  a  corj^se 
lav  before  it.  I  scarcely  noticed  it,  so  accustomed 
to  sights  of  horror  had  we  become.     The  burgo- 
master was  away,  but  they  pointed  out  to  me 
the  direction  in  which  he  was  gone,  and  I  fol- 
lowed.     I   found  him  in  an  open  place   in  the 
centre  of  the  town.     Around  him  were  gathered 
a  gaunt   and    angry  crowd.      He  stood  in  the 
midst,  near  the  door  of  the  old  brick  church  of 
St.  Pancras,  under  the  two  lime-trees,  stripped 
bare  of  leaves,  and  standing  like  types  of  the 
famine,  wintry  skeletons  mocking  that  summer 
noon.     Adrian  van  der  Werf  was  as  wan  and 
haggard  as  any  famished  creature  in  the  crowd, 
but  there  Avas  a  deep  tranquil  light  in  his  dark 
powerful  eyes  which  famine  could  not  quench. 

He  waved  his  broad  burgomaster's  hat,  and 
commanded  silence  from  the  clamorous  crowd  ; 
for  I  learned  that  the  corpse  I  had  seen  had  been 
laid  at  his  door  that  night  by  some  of  the  few 
traitors  in  the  city,  in  reproach  of  his  inflexible 
refusal  to  surrender. 


384  THE   LIBERATION   OP   HOLLAND. 

When  a  hush  was  made,  he  spoke,  and 
his  voice,  like  all  of  ours,  was  thin  with  hun- 
ger: 

,  "What  would  ye,  my  friends?"  he  said. 
"  Why  do  ye  murmur  that  we  do  not  break  our 
vows,  and  surrender  the  city  to  the  Sj^aniards  ? — 
a  fate  more  horrible  than  the  agony  she  now  en- 
dures !  I  tell  you,  I  have  made  an  oath  to  hold 
the  city,  and  may  God  give  me  strength  to  keep 
my  oath.  I  can  die  but  once,  whether  by  your 
hands,  the  enemy's,  or  by  the  hand  of  God.  My 
own  fate  is  indifferent  to  me ;  not  so  that  of  the 
city  intrusted  to  my  care.  I  know  that  we  shall 
starve  if  not  soon  relieved;  but  starvation  is 
preferable  to  the  dishonored  death,  which  is  the 
only  alternative.  Your  menaces  move  me  not. 
My  life  is  at  your  disposal.  Here  is  my  sword, 
plunge  it  into  my  breast,  and  divide  my  flesh 
among  you.  Take  my  body  to  appease  your 
hunger,  but  expect  no  surrender  as  long  as  I  re- 
main alive." 

Shouts  of  enthusiastic  defiance  and  resolution 
once  more  responded  to  his  faithful  words  from 
the  starving  crowd,  who  dispersed,  after  ex- 
changing new  oaths  of  fidelity  with  the  burgo- 
master. I  waited  till  the  place  was  clear,  and 
then  ventured  to  approach  and  tell  him  my  story. 
Tears  stood  in  his  eyes,  and  he  said : 

"  There  will  be  food  to-day.  The  milch  cows 
are  to  be  slaughtered  one  by  one.  Come,  now, 
to  my  house  for  a  few  drops  of  milk.     They  may 


THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  385 

revive  your  faithful  servant,  and  they  will  be  the 
last  we  shall  have.  To-morrow  you  shall  have 
your  share  of  meat." 

I  returned  to  Truyken  with  my  precious  gift. 
Oh,  if  ever  we  know  happy  days  again,  shall  I 
forget  what  poverty  and  hunger  are  ?  or  shall  I 
think  there  is  any  joy  like  that  of  helping  the 
needy  and  wretched  ? 

September  lOih. — On  the  ramparts  yesterday 
Ursel  heard  a  defiance  given  to  the  enemy  by 
some  of  the  citizens. 

"  You  call  us  rat-eaters  and  dog-eaters,"  they 
cried,  "  and  it  is  true.  So  long,  then,  as  ye  hear 
a  dog  bark  or  a  cat  mew  within  the  walls,  ye 
may  know  that  the  city  holds  out.  And  when 
all  has  perished  but  ourselves,  be  sure  that  we 
will  each  devour  our  left  arms,  retaining  our 
right  to  defend  our  women,  our  liberty,  and  our 
religion,  against  the  foreign  tyrant.  Should  God 
in  His  wrath  doom  us  to  destruction,  and  deny 
us  all  relief,  even  then  will  we  maintain  ourselves 
for  ever  against  your  entrance.  When  the  last 
hour  has  come,  with  our  own  hands  will  we  set 
fire  to  the  city,  and  perish,  men,  women  and 
children  together  in  the  flames,  rather  than  suf- 
fer our  homes  to  be  polluted  and  our  liberties  to 
be  crushed." 

This  was  the  answer  to  many  offers  of  pardon 
and  grace  which  Valdez  has  lately  been  sending 
into  the  city,  and  to  the  taunts  of  the  besiegers. 
33 


38G  THE    LIBEKATIOX    OF   HOLLAND. 

When  I  told  Truyken  of  the  general's  offei'3 
of  mercy,  she  said  eagerly : 

"  Are  they  watching  from  the  tower  ?  Surely 
he  knows  there  is  help  coming,  or  he  would 
never  offer  terms," 

September  12th. — Yesterday  evening,  to  satisfy 
Truyken,  Dolores  and  I  went  up  to  the  Great 
Tower.  When  we  reached  the  summit,  we  found 
a  crowd  collected  there  in  great  excitement. 
They  pointed  us  to  a  sj^ot  in  the  distance  where 
from  time  to  time  faint  sudden  puffs  of  smoke 
ajDpeared,  with  the  sound  of  far-off  guns. 

"  There  is  an  engagement,"  people  said. 

And  then,  as  we  watched,  in  an  hour's  time 
the  ships  became  clearly  visible. 

"  They  are  approaching,"  it  was  murmured. 

We  hastened  back  with  the  good  news  to 
Christina  and  Truyken. 

That  night  and  morning  many  never  left  that 
point  of  hope  ;  and  they  saw  the  fire  of  blazing 
villages,  and  heard  the  artillery  from  the  fleet, 
and  knew  by  that  the  deliverers  were  gaining 
ground. 

September  11  Ih. — For  some  days  the  fleet 
seems  to  have  made  no  progress  ;  and  the  famine 
and  pestilence  made  terrible  strides.  The  plague 
is  indeed  among  us.  Thousands  die,  and  those 
remaining  have  scarcely  strength  to  bury  the 
corpses.     And    the    wind    continues    to    blow 


THE   LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND.  387 

steadily    from    the     east,    keeping    back     the 
sea. 

"  Oh,"  sobbed  poor  Hadewyk  this  morning, 
"for  one  day  of  the  gale  v/hich  laid  waste  oar 
farm  in  Friesland  !" 

Seftemher  18(h. — It  has  come!  The  north- 
west wind  has  come.  The  fleet,  which  had 
passed  three  great  dykes — the  outer  one,  the 
Land  Scheiding,  and  the  Greenway — has  now 
floated  triumphantly  to  another,  the  Kirkway. 

September  2oth. — Can  it  be  that  the  courage 
of  the  Zealanders  fails  ?  It  can  never  be  that 
the  Prince  of  Orange  abandons  us.  And  May- 
ken,  my  darling,  as  I  look  at  her  in  her  feverish 
broken  sleep,  and  feel  how  sweet  it  would  be  if 
by  any  device  I  could  transfer  all  my  portion  of 
food  to  her,  and,  dying,  see  something  of  the 
old  life  come  back  to  the  child ;  and  then  by 
that  love  God  gave  me  for  her,  I  feel,  I  feel  He 
can  never  abandon  us.  Can  He  mean  that  Ley- 
den  shall  become  one  funeral-pile  ?  And  as  I 
write  the  words,  Ursel's  words  come  back  on 
me  like  a  knell.  "Whatever  He  has  decreed 
will  be  -accomplished,  and  it  will  be  well." 

For  in  the  room  below  lies  XJrsel  smitten  by 
the  plague,  with  Christina  nursing  her.  And 
now  in  all  the  house  there  are  none  left  to  attend 
to  the  sick  and  the  orphans  but  Dolores,  and  I, 
and  the  child  Mavken,  who  moves  about  as  if  all 


388  THE    LIBEKATIOlSr    OF    HOLLAND. 

the  child  had  departed  from  her,  a  little  feeble, 
wise,  tender-hearted,  helpful  woman.  She  gath- 
ers the  orphans  aromid  her,  and  speaks  to  them 
of  Jesus  and  the  Gospel  stories,  and  sings  them 
to  sleep  sometimes  with  that  poor,  thin,  trem- 
bling voice,  from  which  all  the  childish  ring  has 
gone,  until  my  heart  almost  breaks ;  and  I  can 
only  thank  God  Mark  is  not  here  to  see. 

As  soon  as  Truyken  recovered  so  as  to  be 
able  to  walk,  she  and  Hadewyk  disappeared.  I 
cannot  hear  of  them  anywhere. 

September  28lh. — A  letter  to-day  from  Admiral 
Boisot ;  the  first  tidings  for  so  long. 

A  carrier-pigeon  bore  it  into  the  city. 

He  says  the  fleet  at  Korth  Oa  are  makino: 
eveiy  eifort,  and  that  in  a  very  few  days  at 
furthest  relief  will  come.  There  was  also  a  let- 
ter to  the  Commandant  from  the  Admiral,  claim- 
ing his  hospitality,  and  promising  to  be  his  guest 
in  a  day  or  two.  The  brave  burgomaster  caused 
the  church-bells  to  be  rung  with  peals  of  joy. 
When  Ursel  heard  them,  she  said  in  her  wan- 
derings : 

"Those  are  Dolores's  wedding  bells.  Mark 
must  come.  Dolores,  did  I  say?  This  Great 
Day  of  Joy  is  come  for  all.     Mark  will  be  there." 

September  29th. — Yet  to-day  the  waves  still 
point  to  the  east;  and  from  the  tower,  those 
who  watch  say  the  water  is  sinking,  instead  of 


THE   LIBEEATIOK   OP   HOLLAND.  389 

rising.  Oh,  is  it  possible  we  can  be  disappointed 
again  ?  JSTo,  no  !  God  does  not  awaken  hope 
to  blight  it.  And  yet,  if,  as  Christina  fears, 
Ursel  does  indeed  die,  as  she  predicted,  it  is 
terrible  to  think  the  other  part  of  her  presenti- 
ment may  come  true  also.  But  I  will  not  think 
so.  Does  God  speak  to  us  in  presentiments,  or 
in  His  promises  ?  It  is  only  that  I  am  weak 
with  famine,  and  have  naturally  at  any  time  so 
little  trust,  compared  to  what  I  should  have. 
So  many  trust  Thee  in  this  poor  famishing  city, 
so  many  pray  to  Thee,  surely  it  would  not  be 
like  Thee  to  let  deliverance  come  so  near,  and 
then  fail  ? 

Our  attendance  at  family  prayer  is  smaller 
now.  The  few  starving  orphans,  Dolores,  May- 
ken,  and  I,  always  contrive  to  meet  for  a  few 
minutes,  and  then  we  separate.  Except  then, 
even  Dolores  and  I  meet  little.  There  is  so 
much  to  do,  and  so  little  to  say  to  cheer  each 
other. 

October  \sL — A  gale,  a  storm !  The  wind  rush- 
ing from  the  north-west,  beating  at  our  houses, 
bringing  down  the  sea,  the  mighty,  irresistible, 
overwhelming  sea.  The  gale  which  swept  away 
old  Jacob  Claesen's  Friesland  farm  ! 

October  2c/. — The  wind  has  changed.  It  is 
blowing  furiously  from  the  south-west.  God 
Las  sent  His  winds  to  fight  for  us  at  last,  as 


390  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

plainly  as  for  Israel  of  old.  The  ocean  must 
have  been  piled,  they  say,  by  the  great  dykes  on 
the  coast  of  South  Holland  by  that  north-west 
wind — heaped  up,  as  in  God's  treasure-house; 
and  then  the  wind  suddenly  turned  to  the  south- 
west, the  very  other  quarter  which  was  needed, 
and  is  driving  the  heaped-up  waters  through  the 
pierced  dykes  over  the  land.  Still  the  terrible 
fort  of  Lammen  remains  strongly  garrisoned  and 
thoroughly  provided  with  cannon  and*  ammuni- 
tion. 

Last  night  Dolores  ventured  to  the  Great 
Tower,  and  there  she  saw  the  flashes  of  the 
midnight  battle  on  the  waters,  revealing  for 
a  moment  the  fleet  of  the  deliverers,  and  the 
Zealanders  assailing  the  Spaniards  as  they  strug- 
gled on  the  slippery  half-submerged  pathway  in 
their  flight  from  the  fort  of  Zoeterwoude,  now 
dismantled  and  abandoned. 

Another  carrier-pigeon  from  Admiral  Boisot. 
Nothing  but  the  fort  of  Lammen,  two  hundred 
and  fifty  yards  from  the  city,  remains  between 
us  and  the  deliverers ;  between  a  famishing  city 
and  food.  To-night  none  will  sleep  in  Leyden 
but  little  children  and  those  w^ho  sleep  the  heavy 
unrefreshing  slumbers  of  exhaustion.  But  how 
many  will  pray !  What  countless  prayers  will 
go  up  to  God  from  this  starving  city,  to-night ; 
and  not  one  of  them  shall  be  lost ! 

October  3d— Can  it  be  all  true  ?     The  skeletoa 


THE   LIBERATION    OF   HOLLAND.  391 

lime-trees  stand  outside  the  house,  like  gaunt 
unnatural  spectres,  their  leafless  twigs  relieved 
against  the  soft  blue  Summer  sky.  Yet  within, 
how  all  is  changed ! 

On  that  awful  night  of  the  2d  of  October,  the 
wind  still  blowing  in  violent  gusts  from  the 
south-west,  the  burgomaster  led  many  of  the 
bravest  of  the  citizens  to  the  summit  of  the  old 
Roman  tower.  "  There,"  he  said,  pointing  to- 
wards the  terrible  Lammen  fort,  "  yonder,  be- 
hind that  fort,  are  bread  and  meat,  and  brethren 
in  thousands.  Shall  all  this  be  destroyed  by  the 
Spanish  guns,  or  shall  we  rush  to  the  rescue  of 
our  friends  ?" 

"  We  will  tear  the  fortress  to  pieces  with  our 
teeth  and  nails,"  was  the  reply,  "  before  the  re- 
lief we  have  looked  for  so  long  shall  be  wrested 
from  us  at  the  last." 

All  through  that  night  many  watchers  sat 
alone  on  housetop  and  battlement,  or  with  the 
numbers  on  the  old  Roman  tower. 

Christina,  Dolores,  and  I,  v/atched  in  turn  on 
the  roof  of  our  house.  A  long  procession  of 
lights  was  seen  crossing  the  water  from  the 
dreaded  Lammen  fort,  but  they  scarcely  lighted 
up  the  black  night  which  lay  heavily  on  the 
waters.  Now  and  then  came  a  dull  splash  in 
the  water,  and  a  cry;  but  instantly  all  was 
hushed  a<jain  and  still  as  death.  It  was  as  if 
the  whole  city  was  holding  its  breath  to  listen ; 
when,  at  midnight,  came  a  crash  like  thmiderj 


892  THE   LIBEEATION   OF   HOLLAND. 

followed  by  the  heavy  splash  of  stones  falling 
into  the  water. 

"  It  must  be  the  wall !"  said  Dolores,  who  had 
just  joined  me.  And  we  clung  togethei*,  expect- 
ing the  next  moment  to  hear  the  yell  of  Spanish 
storming  parties  rushing  through  the  breach. 

But  not  a  sound  followed.  There  was  some 
confusion  among  the  strange  rows  of  lights  on 
the  dark  waste  of  waters,  then  they  seemed  to 
move  more  rapidly,  until  the  last  faint  gleam 
died  away  in  the  distance,  as  if  it  had  been  a 
procession  of  ghosts.  All  night  long  we  dreaded 
some  surprise,  some  sudden  war-cry  or  cannon- 
ading, or  despairing  shrieks,  revealing  the  suc- 
cess of  the  enemy's  stratagem.  But  the  silence 
deepened  until  the  dawn  broke  over  the  water's. 
Then  we  saw  that  all  was  unchanged  since  night- 
fall; except  that  on  one  side,  where  the  city 
wall  had  been,  lay  a  heap  of  ruined  masonry, 
laying  open  a  large  space  of  the  city.  Lammen 
stood  bristling  with  its  cannon  as  before,  and  the 
fleet  beyond  it. 

Who  would  begin  the  attack  ?  The  fort  was 
silent ;  but  every  moment  we  expected  to  hear 
its  fatal  voice,  and  see  the  smoke  and  flash  from 
its  many  guns.  No  sound  came.  At  last  we 
saw  a  flag  waving  from  the  silent  fort,  and  then 
a  man  swimming  from  it  to  the  fleet.  The  ships 
advanced.  They  passed  close  under  the  cannon 
of  the  dreaded  Lammen.  Yet  not  a  shot  was 
fired. 


THE   LIBERATION    OF   HOLLAND.  393 

Then  Dolores  and  I  began  to  believe  the  truth, 
and  fell  into  each  others'  arms,  and  wept,  and 
sobbed  out  thanks  to  God. 

But  for  a  miuute  !  And  then  we  went  down 
to  tell  the  news  to  all ;  and  found  it  was  no  news 
to  any. one.  The  truth  seemed  to  have  burst 
on  the  whole  at  once ;  and  people  wept  and 
laughed  and  clasped  their  hands,  and  knelt  in 
the  streets  in  prayer. 

The  Zealand  ships  came  up  the  canals ;  the 
sailors  throwing  bread  on  all  sides  among  the 
starving  people.  I  gave  a  loaf  to  Mayken,  and 
tried  to  swallow  some  myself,  but  could  not. 
Then  I  hurried  with  Mayken  to  the  site  of  our 
old  house.  If  Mark  was  in  the  fleet,  I  knew  he 
w^ould  look  for  us  there.  I  saw  his  look  of  be- 
wilderment and  dismay,  as  his  eyes  lighted  on 
the  heap  of  ruins  among  which  we  stood,  where 
the  house  had  been.  And  then,  amidst  the  ashes 
and  ruins,  once  more  Mark  and  Mayken  and  I 
stood  together.  He  took  the  poor,  famished 
child  in  his  arms,  as  light  a  weight  as  when  she 
was  many  years  younger.  He  brought  us  home ; 
and  there,  for  a  few  minutes,  we  sat  together  in 
that  kind  of  joy  which  must  either  find  a  voice 
in  silence  or  tears. 

Then  Dolores  joined  us,  with  the  Seigneur  de 
Clairvaux.  How  they  found  each  other  I  have 
no  idea,  nor,  I  believe,  have  they.  Every  one 
seemed  dehrious  with  sui-prise  and  joy  that  morn- 
ing ;  and  if  each  one  tried  to  write  a  history  of 


S94  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

the  day,  I  think  there  would  not  be  one  history- 
corresponding  with  another,  so  that  future  gen- 
erations might  come  to  doubt  whether  the  whole 
history  were  not  a  glowing  sunset  crown  of  ro- 
mance to  a  long  day  of  bustle  and  toil  and  weep- 
ing. But  it  is  true.  "VVe  are  all  here.  Mark  is 
here,  and  Mayken ;  and  on  the  table,  loaves  of 
bread,  not  malt-cake,  or  lime  leaves,  but  bread, 
God's  perpetual  miracle,  His  ceaseless  manna, 
springing  golden  from  the  earth,  His  unfailing 
gift  to  man.  Bread  !  loaves,  when  we  have  given 
thanks  for  crumbs !  j^ure  wheateu  loves,  where 
we  have  said  grace  for  nettles  from  the  church- 
yards, and  too  often  have  failed  even  to  find  such 
sustenance  as  these.  O  gracious  God !  if  I  be- 
gin to  thank  Thee,  my  words  will  change  into 
tears. 

From  the  house  Christina,  Dolores,  Leonard 
.  de  Clairvaux,  Mark,  Mayken,  and  I,  went  and 
joined  the  solemn  procession  to  the  great  church, 
with  the  noble  Adrien  van  der  Werf  and  Admiral 
Boisot  at  the  head,  and  all  the  city  who  could 
walk  or  stand,  the  scarred  and  war-worn  civic 
guard,  famine-stricken  men,  women,  and  chiklren, 
and  the  wild  Zealand  sailors. 

At  the  church  we  knelt  in  prayer  together,  all 
of  us.  And  then  thousands  of  voices  beo-an  the 
hymn  of  thanksgiving,  which  was  never  finished  : 
at  least  never  finislied  in  words.  Abruptly  it 
broke  off.  Not  a  voice  could  raise  another  note. 
The  whole  congregation  burst  forth  in  tears  and 


THE   LIBERATION   OF   HOLLAISD.  395 

sobs  of  speechless  gratitude.  All  heroic  and 
patient  Leydcn  !  prepared  only  three  days  before 
to  die  amidst  the  burning,  rather  than  surrender, 
wept  and  sobbed  like  a  child  on  its  mother's 
heart.  Thus  the  service  ended,  no  one  attempted 
any  more  words.  Never,  I  think,  did  thanks- 
giving hymn  give  more  joy  in  heaven  than  that. 
We  returned  in  silence,  and  then,  and  not  till 
then,  the  food  was  quietly  and  systematically 
distributed  among  the  citizens. 

First  the  thanksgiving  and  then  the  enjoy- 
ment. 

On  our  way  home,  we  heard  the  sound  as  of  a 
low  moan  from  the  door  of  a  poor  cottage. 
Mark  and  I  entered.  "We  feared  it  might  be 
some  suiferer,  the  last  of  a  starved  family,  and 
we  would  not  that  any  should  feel  forsaken  or 
forgotten  on  this  day  of  joy.  A  faint  voice  mur- 
mured : 

"  Is  it  the  Spaniards  ?  Have  they  come  at 
last  ?     I  will  not  fear  what  flesh  can  do  to  me." 

The  room  was  dark ;  but,  faint  as  it  was,  the 
voice  was  fomiliar  indeed. 

''  Truyken !  Truyken  Ketel !"  said  Mark,  kneel- 
ing beside  her. 

"  Thank  God,  thank  God,  I  see  the  master 
asrain  before  I  die." 

"  You  will  not  die,  Truyken,"  he  said  tenderly ; 
"  we  are  to  take  you  back." 

"  No,  no,"  she  said,  bewildered  by  the  sudden 
joy,  and  Avandering  a  little  in  her  faintness  ;  "  I 


396  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLXAND. 

will  not  come  again  to  take  the  last  morsel  from 
her  lips  and  the  child's. 

"  It  is  not  the  last  morsel,  Truyken,"  I  said,  as 
quietly  as  I  could,  taking  from  Mayken  the  loaf 
I  had  given  her,  and  which  the  child  had  carried 
with  hei"  to  church,  unwilling  to  trust  the  treasure 
out  of  her  hands.     . 

Truyken  looked  up.    She  began  to  understand. 

"  God  has  sent  His  angels  on  the  storm,"  I 
said.  "  That  storm-wind  last  night  brought  them." 

She  sat  up  with  feverish  strength  for  a  moment, 
and  clasped  her  hands  in  thanksgiving.  And 
then  she  let  us  take  her  home. 

Slowly  she  is  recovering  strength;  and  this 
morning  she  shook  her  head,  as  Mark  and  I  con- 
gratulated her  on  her  improved  looks,  and  said 
with  a  smile : 

"You  had  better  have  let  me  go.  I  am  well 
enough  in  stormy  times,  but  you  know  very  well 
old  Truyken's  temper  makes  many  a  storm  for 
you  when  things  are  smooth." 

Nor,  I  think,  will  Ursel  be  taken  from  us. 
When  Mark  came  to  her  bedside  to  see  her,  she 
clung  to  his  hand,  as  if  she  could  never  let  it  go. 
And  yesterday  she  acknowledged  to  us : 

"  I  was  not  so  willing  to  go  as  I  had  thought. 
I  had  imagined  death  coming  suddenly  on  the 
ramparts,  amidst  all  those  sights  and  sounds  of 
conflict  and  agony.  But  when  it  seemed  likely 
to  come  on  me  on  this  bed,  with  Christina 
watching  over  me  like  a  mother,  and  your  voice 


THE   LIBERATION    OV   HOLLAND.  397 

and  darling  Mayken's  whispering  anxiously  at 
the  door,  I  did  feel  it  would  be  very  hard  to 
leave  you  all.  And  I  prayed  to  live,  and  to  see 
Mark  again." 

"  If  it  had  been  God's  time,  He  would  have 
made  you  ready  to  depart,"  Mark  said.  "And 
now,  dear  Ursel,  we  will  have  you  back  again ; 
but  we  cannot  recognize  you  as  a  prophetess,  nor 
suffer  you  to  become  a  nun,  in  spite  of  these 
clipped  locks,"  said  Mark,  smoothing  the  short 
hair  on  her  temples. 

She  held  one  hand  of  each  of  us,  and  smiled  a 
smile  of  sweet  childlike  gratitude,  which  went 
to  my  inmost  heart,  coming,  as  it  did,  from  the 
depths  of  that  deep  and  determined  nature.  It 
showed  such  a  deep  rest  all  through  her  heart. 

February  5, 1575. — My  little  chronicle  may  well 
end,  now  that  all  those  who  would  care  to  read 
it  are  within  reach^  of  each  other's  voices. 

On  October  the  4th,  the  day  after  our  great 
deliverance,  the  Prince  of  Orange  came  to  share 
our  joy.  And  then  first  we  learned  from  his 
worn  and  hagsrard  countenance  that  he  had 
suffered  on  our  account  in  body  as  well  as  in 
mind  scarcely  less  than  we  had.  More  than  one 
of  those  cheering  letters  of  his  which  had  encour- 
aged us  to  endure,  were  written,  as  now  first 
we  discovered,  from  a  bed  of  dangerous  illness, 
once  nearly  brought  to  a  hopeless  pass  by  a  false 
rumour  that  Levden  had  fallen. 
84 


398  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

He  offered  the  city,  as  a  reward  for  its  heroic 
■defense,  to  receive  a  perpetual  exemption  from' 
cei'tain  taxes,  or  to  become  the  seat  of  a  univer- 
sity. The  citizens  chose  the  latter.  And  yester- 
day  another  procession  stirred  the  streets  of 
Leyden,  not  silent  with  sudden  and  imutterablo 
joy,  like  that  last  one,  but  gay  with  music  and 
banners  and  classical  imagery,  in  honour  of  the 
new  literary  glories  whicli  are  to  be  ours.  The 
nine  muses,  Apollo,  Neptune,  the  Goddess  of 
Medicine,  Minerva  with  her  aegis,  sailed  in  orna- 
mented barges  up  our  canals,  and  rode  through 
our  streets,  preceded  by  the  Holy  Gospel  in  a 
white  dress,  and  seated  in  a  chariot  and  four 
with  the  four  Evangelists  walking  by  her  side. 

But  this  splendid  allegorical  festival  has  to  our 
eyes  been  rather  eclipsed  by  a  little  family  proces- 
sion of  our  own  to  the  great  church  to-day. 
There  where  all  Leyden  had  met  to  sing  that 
holy  hymn  of  praise,  Dolores  and  Leonard  de 
Clairvaux  were  married  this  morning,  with 
simple  reverent  ceremony,  by  a  Lutheran  pastor. 
Christina  and  LTrsel  are  established  in  full  and 
happy  activity,  with  the  charge  of  the  orphans 
made  by  the  wai-s  of  those  troublous  years,  and 
by  the  famine  and  pestilence  during  the  siege. 
ITadewyk  has  reappeared  and  loves  to  help  them. 
The  church  at  Amsterdam,  a  few  years  since, . 
chose  certain  ancient  and  virtuous  women  of  their 
number,  and  solemnly  set  them  apart  as  deacon- 
esses.    Christina,  Urscl,  and  Hadewyk  have  not 


THE    LIBEKATIOX    OF    HOLLAND.  399 

yet  received  the  title,  but  they  certainly  exercise 
.  the  ministry.  And  Christina's  linen-presses  and 
provision  stores,  well-stocked  as  they  always  are, 
are  not  likely  to  become  mildewed  or  moth- 
eaten. 

Our  little  household  is  thus  diminished,  being 
reduced,  besides  the  servants,  who  are  trained 
for  us  by  Christina  and  Ursel,  to  Mark,  Mayken, 
Truyken,  and  me. 

Truyken  would  be  disposed  to  assist  in  Chris- 
tina's orphan  home,  but  for  a  fear  which  she 
modestly  expresses  that  our  household  would 
go  to  ruin  without  her,  "  especially  now  that  all 
those  wild  young  things  are  turned  in  upon  us 
by  the  Yrouw  van  Broek,  under  the  name  of 
servants,  but  without  an  idea  how  to  scnib  a 
floor,  or  turn  a  joint,  or  wring  out  a  mop." 

Happier  days  have  indeed  come  on  earth  for 
Mayken  as  old  Jacob  Claesen  prophesied,  and 
when  I  hear  her  joyous  laugh  pealing  like  silver 
joy-bells  through  the  house  at  some  sally  of 
Truyken's,  I  smile  to  think  how  I  feared  the  sweet 
ringing  tone  of  youth  would  never  come  back 
to  her  voice  or  her  heart.  But  yet  I  would  not  for 
the  world  liave  her  lose  the  depth  of  sympathy 
and  faith  those  days  of  agony  have  given  her. 

Mark  believes  the  standard  of  true  liberty  will 
ne\er  be  torn  down,  and  the  light  of  true  relig- 
ion never  quenched  in  those  lands  rescued  at  so 
great  a  cost  from  tyranny  and  superstition.  And 
Dolores  says,  "  Who  knows  how  the  martyr-fires 


400  THE    LIBERATION    OF    HOLLAND. 

of  Spain  have  aided  in  the  liberation  of  Holland? 
Like  ISTaarden  and  Haarlem  in  the  siege  of  Ley- 
den,  have  not  the  Spanish  Autos-da-fe  been  a 
terrible  beacon  before  the  eyes  of  those  northern 
subjects  of  King  Philip,  warning,  strengthening 
them  never  to  surrender  ?"  It  is  comfortinsj  to 
Dolores  and  me  to  think  that  thus  the  suflerings 
of  our  countrymen  may  not  have  been  without 
their  fruits  even  on  these  shores  of  time.  But 
we  can  disentangle  little  of  God's  purposes  on 
earth,  and  we  wait  submissively  to  learn  why 
the  martyrs  were  suffered  thus  to  perish,  from 
their  own  lips  in  the  better  world. 

Hands  are  clasped,  and  hearts  are  bound  to- 
gether in  these  days  for  mutual  aid  in  many  a 
stormy  conflict.  For  the  warfare  is  not  yet 
accomplished.  Nor  will  it  be,  as  Mark  said,  as 
long  as  God  has  soldiers  to  train,  that  they  may 
wear  the  palms  and  crowns,  and  cast  both  at  the 
feet  of  Him  through  whom  alone  one  of  that 
white-robed  host  will  have  overcome. 


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