It was the third triumphal procession which Brussels had witnessed within
nine months. It was also the most brilliant of all; for the burghers, as
if to make amends to the Archduke for the actual nullity to which he had
been reduced, seemed resolved to raise him to the seventh heaven of
allegory. By the rhetorical guilds he was regarded as the most brilliant
constellation of virtues which had yet shone above the Flemish horizon.
A brilliant cavalcade, headed by Orange, accompanied by Count John of
Nassau, the Prince de Chimay and other notables, met him at Vilvoorde,
and escorted him to the city gate. On an open field, outside the town,
Count Bossu had arranged a review of troops, concluding with a sham-
fight, which, in the words of a classical contemporary, seemed as "bloody
a rencontre as that between Duke Miltiades of Athens and King Darius upon
the plains of Attics." The procession entered the Louvain gate, through
a splendid triumphal arch, filled with a band of invisible musicians.
"I believe that Orpheus had never played so melodiously on his harp,"
says the same authority, "nor Apollo on his lyre, nor Pan on his lute, as
the city waits then performed." On entering the gates, Matthias was at
once delivered over to the hands of mythology, the burghers and
rhetoricians taking possession of their illustrious captive, and being
determined to outdo themselves in demonstrations of welcome. The
representatives of the "nine nations" of Brussels met him in the Ritter-
street, followed by a gorgeous retinue. Although it was mid-day, all
bore flaming torches. Although it was January, the streets were strewed
with flowers. The houses were festooned with garlands, and hung with
brilliant silks and velvets. The streets were thronged with spectators,
and encumbered with triumphal arches. On the Grande Place always the
central scene in Brussels, whether for comedies, or tournaments, or
executions, the principal dramatic effects had been accumulated. The
splendid front of the Hotel de Ville was wreathed with scarfs and