liquor and excitement, urged on their fellows with cries like these:
“Down with the priests! Liberty forever! Long live the Beggars!”
“I believe, Dr. Chenoweth, that these are your allies,” said the Burgomaster, with cutting irony.
“This lawless mob does not represent Protestantism,” replied the doctor, a flush of shame rising to his cheeks at the taunt. “Where there is wheat growing, there is always chaff. You surely would not condemn all Protestants because of the defection of a few!”
“The Burgomaster replied coldly: “These fellows call themselves Protestants. See what they are doing? They are destroying the work of centuries. You cannot blame me for being suspicious of a cause which allows such excesses to be permitted in its name. Good day!”
A furious tumult was now in progress. The Margrave of Antwerp, John Van Immerzeel, the highest executive in Antwerp, accompanied by the Senators and the Burgomaster, now marched in a body to the cathedral expecting to awe the iconoclasts by their august presence. But their expectations were not realized. The crowd declared that they would not leave the church until after vespers. When informed that there would be no vespers that evening, missiles began to fly in dangerous proximity to these officers of justice.
