The cities of Ypres, Lille, and other places of importance, were soon subject to similar visitations; and the whole of Flanders was in a few days ravaged by furious multitudes, whose frantic energy spread terror and destruction on their route.  Antwerp was protected for a while by the presence of the Prince of Orange; but an order from the stadtholderess having obliged him to repair to Brussels, a few nights after his departure the celebrated cathedral shared the fate of many a minor temple, and was utterly pillaged.  The blind fury of the spoilers was not confined to the mere effigies which they considered the types of idolatry, nor even to the pictures, the vases, the sixty-six altars, and their richly wrought accessories; but it was equally fatal to the splendid organ, which was considered the finest at that time in existence.  The rapidity and the order with which this torch-light scene was acted, without a single accident among the numerous doers, has excited the wonder of almost all its early historians.  One of them does not hesitate to ascribe the “miracle” to the absolute agency of demons.  For three days and nights these revolting scenes were acted, and every church in the city shared the fate of the cathedral, which next to St. Peter’s at Rome was the most magnificent in Christendom.

Ghent, Tournay, Valenciennes, Mechlin, and other cities, were next the theatres of similar excesses; and in an incredibly short space of time above four hundred churches were pillaged in Flanders and Brabant.  Zealand, Utrecht, and others of the northern provinces, suffered more or less; Friesland, Guelders, and Holland alone escaped, and even the latter but in partial instances.

These terrible scenes extinguished every hope of reconciliation with the king.  An inveterate and interminable hatred was now established between him and the people; for the whole nation was identified with deeds which were in reality only shared by the most base, and were loathsome to all who were enlightened.  It was in vain that the patriot nobles might hope or strive to exclupate themselves; they were sure to be held criminal either in fact or by implication.  No show of loyalty, no efforts to restore order, no personal sacrifice, could save them from the hatred or screen them from the vengeance of Philip.

The affright of the stadtholderess during the short reign of anarchy and terror was without bounds.  She strove to make her escape from Brussels, and was restrained from so doing only by the joint solicitations of Viglius and the various knights of the order of the golden Fleece, consisting of the first among the nobles of all parties.  But, in fact, a species of violence was used to restrain her from this most fatal step; for Viglius gave orders that the gates of the city should be shut, and egress refused to anyone belonging to the court.  The somewhat less terrified duchess now named Count Mansfield governor of the town, reinforced the garrison, ordered arms