uring the hours of service, Tournay was literally emptied of
its inhabitants. The streets were as silent as if war or pestilence had
swept the place. The Duchess sent orders, but she sent no troops. The
trained-bands of the city, the cross-bow-men of St. Maurice, the archers
of St. Sebastian, the sword-players of St. Christopher, could not be
ordered from Tournay to suppress the preaching, for they had all gone to
the preaching themselves. How idle, therefore; to send peremptory orders
without a matchlock to enforce the command.

Throughout Flanders similar scenes were enacted. The meetings were
encampments, for the Reformers now came to their religious services armed
to the teeth, determined, if banished from the churches, to defend their
right to the fields. Barricades of upturned wagons, branches, and planks,
were thrown up around the camps. Strong guards of mounted men were
stationed at every avenue. Outlying scouts gave notice of approaching
danger, and guided the faithful into the enclosure. Pedlers and hawkers
plied the trade upon which the penalty of death was fixed, and sold the
forbidden hymn-books to all who chose to purchase. A strange and
contradictory spectacle! An army of criminals doing deeds which could
only be expiated at the stake; an entrenched rebellion, bearding the
government with pike, matchlock, javelin and barricade, and all for no
more deadly purpose than to listen to the precepts of the pacific Jesus.

Thus the preaching spread through the Walloon provinces to the northern
Netherlands. Towards the end of July, an apostate monk, of singular
eloquence, Peter Gabriel by name, was announced to preach at Overeen near
Harlem. This was the first field-meeting which had taken place in
Holland. The people were wild with enthusiasm; the authorities beside
themselves with apprehension. People from the country flocked into the
town by thousands. The other cities were deserted, Harlem was filled to
overflowing. Multitudes encamped upon the ground the night before. The
magistrates ordered the gates to be kept closed in the morning till long
after the usual hour. It was of no avail. Bolts and bars were but small
impediments to enthusiasts who had travelled so many miles on foot or
horseback to listen to a sermon. They climbed the walls, swam the moat
and thronged to the place of meeting long before the doors had been
opened. When these could no longer be kept closed without a conflict, for
which the magistr