was himself a Lutheran, not entirely free from the universal prejudice against the Calvinists, whose sect he afterwards embraced, was fully aware of the deplorable fact, that the enmity at that day between Calvinists and Lutherans was as fierce as that between Reformers and Catholics.  He now made use of this feeling, and of his influence with those of the Augsburg Confession, to save the city.  During the night he had interviews with the ministers and notable members of the Lutheran churches, and induced them to form an alliance upon this occasion with the Catholics and with all friends of order, against an army of outlaws who were threatening to burn and sack the city.  The Lutherans, in the silence of night, took arms and encamped, to the number of three or four thousand, upon the river side, in the neighborhood of Saint Michael’s cloister.  The Prince also sent for the deans of all the foreign mercantile associations—­Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, English, Hanseatic, engaged their assistance also for the protection of the city, and commanded them to remain in their armor at their respective factories, ready to act at a moment’s warning.  It was agreed that they should be informed at frequent intervals as to the progress of events.

On the morning of the 15th, the city of Antwerp presented a fearful sight.  Three distinct armies were arrayed at different points within its walls.  The Calvinists, fifteen thousand strong, lay in their encampment on the Mere; the Lutherans, armed, and eager for action, were at St. Michael’s; the Catholics and the regulars of the city guard were posted on the square.  Between thirty-five and forty thousand men were up, according to the most moderate computation.  All parties were excited, and eager for the fray.  The fires of religious hatred burned fiercely in every breast.  Many malefactors and outlaws, who had found refuge in the course of recent events at Antwerp, were in the ranks of the Calvinists, profaning a sacred cause, and inspiring a fanatical party with bloody resolutions.  Papists, once and forever, were to be hunted down, even as they had been for years pursuing Reformers.  Let the men who had fed fat on the spoils of plundered Christians be dealt with in like fashion.  Let their homes be sacked, their bodies given to the dogs—­such were the cries uttered by thousands of armed men.

On the other hand, the Lutherans, as angry and as rich as the Catholics, saw in every Calvinist a murderer and a robber.  They thirsted after their blood; for the spirit of religious frenzy; the characteristic of the century, can with difficulty be comprehended in our colder and more sceptical age.  There was every probability that a bloody battle was to be fought that day in the streets of Antwerp—­a general engagement, in the course of which, whoever might be the victors, the city was sure to be delivered over to fire, sack, and outrage.  Such would have been the result, according to the concurrent testimony