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Can you hear the crowd following her, cursing, insulting? Look, the masons come with mortar and trowel! Look, the women come with stones! They are all bringing stones, all, all! Oh king, if you cannot see what is passing in Visby, may you yet hear and know what is happening there. You are not of steel and iron, like Violence at your side.
Why do the women not hasten with their jewels; the revellers with their cups, the priest with his relics, eager, burning with enthusiasm for the sacrifice? "For thee, for thee, our beloved town! It is needless to send soldiers for us when it concerns thee! Oh, Visby, our mother, our honor! Take back what thou hast given us!" But the painter has not wished to see them so, and it was not so either.
Among prominent speakers were Mayor Carl Lindhagen and Ernest Beckman, M. P., the Rev. K. H. G. von Scheele, Bishop of Visby, and the Rev. Dr. Samuel Fries. The ushers and pages were women students of the universities. On the Sunday afternoon preceding the convention the precedent of all past ages was broken when Dr. Anna Howard Shaw preached in the ancient State Church of Gusta Vasa.
It had been glorious to stroll at his side through this same market-place, when the moon rose from behind the gables and illumined the beauties of Visby. She had been proud of him, proud of her father, proud of her town. And now she is lying there, broken with grief. Innocent and yet guilty!
He established a strong camp before Visby, the capital of the island of Gulland, having six thousand foot and, at some distance, nine thousand horse. Determined to engage before their junction could take place, the Queen's commander-in-chief, Abraham Broder, immediately advanced until in sight of the enemy, and then endeavored to gain possession of Visby and the ground near by.
I wish that the artist had lived long enough to take me down to the harbor of Visby and let me see those same burghers, when they followed the departing fleet with their eyes. They cry curses out over the waves. "Destroy them!" they cry. "Destroy them! Oh sea, our friend, take back our treasures! Open thy choking depths under the ungodly, under the faithless!"
Visby is fallen, the glorious Visby! God bless your hands, oh masons! Let me help to complete the vengeance!" Hymns sound and bells ring as for a burial. Oh Valdemar, King of Denmark, it will be your fate to meet death also. Then you will lie on your bed, hear and see much and suffer great pains. You shall hear that scraping of the trowels, those cries for vengeance.
The big, richly colored canvas with its many figures made at the first glance an extraordinary impression. I could not look at any other picture, but went straight to that one, took a chair and sank into silent contemplation. For half an hour I lived in the Middle Ages. Soon I was within the scene that was passing in the Visby market-place.
"I am Violence; I am Rapacity," he says. "It is I who am levying contribution on Visby. I am not a human being; I am merely steel and iron. My pleasure is in suffering and evil. Let them go on and torture one another. To-day it is I who am lord of Visby." "Look," he says to the beholder, "can you see that it is I who am master?
Did she go mad at the sight of that stream of steel surging in through the gate which she had opened? Too late to bemoan, maiden! Why did you love the enemy of your town? Visby is fallen, its glory shall pass away. Why did you not throw yourself down before the gate and let the steel-shod heels trample you to death?
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