The Rise of the Dutch Republic, 1569-70 | Page 9

in readiness
to announce the pardon. On the 14th of that month a great festival was
held at Antwerp, for the purpose of solemnly proclaiming the long
expected amnesty. In the morning, the Duke, accompanied by a
brilliant staff, and by a long procession of clergy in their gorgeous
robes, paraded through the streets of the commercial capital, to offer up
prayers and hear mass in the cathedral. The Bishop of Arras then began
a sermon upon the blessings of mercy, with a running commentary
upon the royal clemency about to be exhibited. In the very outset,
however, of his discourse, he was seized with convulsions, which
required his removal from the pulpit; an incident which was not
considered of felicitous augury. In the afternoon, the Duke with his
suite appeared upon the square in front of the Town House. Here a
large scaffolding or theatre had been erected. The platform and the
steps which led to it were covered with scarlet cloth. A throne, covered
with cloth of gold, was arranged in the most elevated position for the
Duke. On the steps immediately below him were placed two of the
most beautiful women in Antwerp, clad in allegorical garments to
represent righteousness and peace. The staircase and platform were
lined with officers, the square was beset with troops, and filled to its
utmost verge with an expectant crowd of citizens. Toward the close of a
summer's afternoon, the Duke wearing the famous hat and sword of the
Pope, took his seat on the throne with all the airs of royalty. After a few
preliminary ceremonies, a civil functionary, standing between two

heralds; then recited the long-expected act of grace. His reading,
however, was so indistinct, that few save the soldiers in the immediate
vicinity of the platform could hear a word of the document.
This effect was, perhaps, intentional. Certainly but little enthusiasm
could be expected from the crowd, had the text of the amnesty been
heard. It consisted of three parts--a recitation of the wrongs committed,
a statement of the terms of pardon, and a long list of exceptions. All the
sins of omission and commission, the heresy, the public preaching, the
image-breaking, the Compromise, the confederacy, the rebellion, were
painted in lively colors. Pardon, however, was offered to all those who
had not rendered themselves liable to positive impeachment, in case
they should make their peace with the Church before the expiration of
two months, and by confession and repentance obtain their absolution.
The exceptions, however, occupied the greater part of the document.
When the general act of condemnation had been fulminated by which
all Netherlanders were sentenced to death, the exceptions had been very
few, and all the individuals mentioned by name. In the act of pardon,
the exceptions comprehended so many classes of inhabitants, that it
was impossible for any individual to escape a place in, some one of the
categories, whenever it should please the government to take his life.
Expressly excluded from the benefit of the act were all ministers,
teachers, dogmatizers, and all who had favored and harbored such
dogmatizers and preachers; all those in the least degree implicated in
the image-breaking; all who had ever been individually suspected of
heresy or schism; all who had ever signed or favored the Compromise
or the Petition to the Regent; all those who had taken up arms,
contributed money, distributed tracts; all those in any manner
chargeable with misprision, or who had failed to denounce those guilty
of heresy. All persons, however, who were included in any of these
classes of exceptions might report themselves within six months, when,
upon confession of their crime, they might hope for a favorable
consideration of their case.
Such, in brief, and stripped of its verbiage, was this amnesty for which
the Netherlands had so long been hoping. By its provisions, not a man
or woman was pardoned who had ever committed a fault. The innocent
alone were forgiven. Even they were not sure of mercy, unless they
should obtain full absolution from the Pope. More certainly than ever

would the accustomed rigor be dealt to all who had committed any of
those positive acts for which so many had already lost their heads. The
clause by which a possibility of pardon was hinted to such criminals,
provided they would confess and surrender, was justly regarded as a
trap. No one was deceived by it. No man, after the experience of the
last three years; would voluntarily thrust his head into the lion's mouth,
in order to fix it more firmly upon his shoulders. No man who had
effected his escape was likely to play informer against himself, in hope
of obtaining a pardon from which all but the most sincere and zealous
Catholics were in reality excepted.
The murmur