8 The Animal fable: Prints and popular culture in the Dutch Revolt
Carol Janson
In 1579 the Antwerp rhetorician Willem Haecht published an unusual group of four satirical engravings using animal fables interwoven with rebuses. They describe the condition of the Netherlands through the theme of the world upside down. The country is in dire peril because of the mental blindness, greed and sloth of its leaders. Haecht’s name appeared on the prints as the conceptualiser of the series and Marie Mauquoy-Hendrickx states that he probably also wrote the texts.1 Martin van Cleef is identified as the designer, and Antoine Wierix or his brother Jerome as engravers on engravings 1, 3 and 4. The consecutive numbering of the prints and the date 1579 on three of the four prints suggests that they constituted a series.2 The recurrence of the same animal characters in the second and third prints, The Sleeping Lion and The Gluttonous Wolf, affirms their sequential relationship. The first and last images, The World Upside Down and The Blind Shepherds, could be paired as well but their affinity is more generic. Since each print’s message may be interpreted independently, the possibility of individual purchase cannot be excluded. The loose correlation among the four prints raises the issue whether they might have only been joined as a series later, but the uniform dating strengthens the assumption that they were intended as a unit.
Sixteenth-century prints often favoured allegorical depictions for propagandistic invective, but did the choice of the animal fable tradition ensure a wider and perhaps non-literate audience’s visual interest and comprehension? Second, how were they read by their audience? Did rebuses appeal more to the learned rederijkers who employed them on their organisation’s coat-of-arms? What relationship did the text have to the imagery? Was it supplemental or crucial to the print’s propagandistic message? What type of print community does it reflect by including French and German translations? In order to consider these questions more closely, the contents of each print will be identified and discussed.
The first of the print series, The World Upside Down (Fig. 8.1), stages a tripartite tableau vivant reading from left to right; each group forms a phrase spelling out the two-line verse below. Unlike others in this series, the first image presents a fairly realistic setting despite the inclusion of rebus images. Hypocrisy and Tyranny at the far left recollect evil characters not unlike sinnekens from contemporary plays.3 Brandishing a bouquet of snakes and twigs, Hypocrisy extends her rosary to spread its shadow over the world in place of the lowered cross. Her companion, a soldier holding the world in bondage, has cast down Concord (the joined hands) and slain the heart. Their evilness is evident even if the viewer cannot specifically identify their personas.
Fig. 8.1
The World Upside Down. Engraving by Antonie Wierix (II) after Marten van Cleve (I), 1579. Engraving, 20.7 x 32.2 cm. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam
Haecht may have intended a literary pun on his native Antwerp, visually symbolised by the hand now cast down (hand werp), to suggest its current lowly state. Beyond the stream Love sleeps, as Time instructs us. The skull-faced clock on the pedestal evokes death – its dagger hand pointed towards the year 79. Time’s scythe extends its shadow towards Love. Thus even without the secondary connective symbols added to the key words of the rebuses – the duck for en(de) (and) or the sod for zo (so or thus) – the viewer can comprehend the basic message: ‘Gevijnsheyt met Tyrannij hout de Weerelt verkeert, Trouwe en Liefde slaept, soo den Tijt ons leert’. Hypocrisy and Tyranny hold the world turned, Concord and Love (Charity) sleeps, so Time informs us.
The rebus system, however, still requires a certain level of familiarity with symbols. The viewer must know that time is represented by an old bearded man with a scythe. In other words, the concept represented may not always be identifiable purely by guessing.
At the upper left corner, two cities firing upon each other depict the topsy-turvy condition of the world; in the middle ground between Tyranny and Love a military offensive takes place. If the date inscribed on the world’s circumference is intended as 1576 rather than 1579 (that is with a nine as a reversed six) the sacking of Antwerp by the Spanish on the third of November 1576 offers a specific reason for the world to be upside down. This event led, five days later, to the pact known as the Pacification of Ghent signed by the provinces of the Netherlands to expel the Spanish troops. The religious strife concerning public Catholic or Protestant worship in the provinces was temporarily solved by confirming public Protestant worship only in Holland and Zeeland.4 Haecht’sprint conveys a distrust of the Catholic faith, although Tyranny plays the stronger role in blocking Concord and Love. Perhaps the rather generic bird located at Love’s feet and at the boundary of a stream (the Scheldt?) refers to Prince William’s supporters, the beggars referred to in other prints in a visual and verbal pun on geus (goose).5 Despite the presence of Love and Concord, the bird cannot help break the bonds of Hypocrisy and Tyranny. Such symbolism, however, would be unique in the print for the directness of its political associations.
The second print, The Sleeping Lion, refers to the duke of Alva’s 1567 arrival in the Netherlands when he established a Council of Troubles leading to the arrest of Dutch citizens and confiscation of their goods (Fig. 8.2). Murder, robbery and arrests take place as the Netherlands’ Authority (the lion) sleeps on the orb of hypocritical advice. Foreign robbers and Spanish officers (wolf and fox) pillage the General Welfare (seven birds and two pigs) despite the alarms of the patriotic guard dog. Previous Warfare (an ass loaded with military gear) sleeps or collapses as the Innocent Robbed (the sheep) stand passively by.
Fig. 8.2
The Sleeping Lion. Engraving by Antonie Wierix (II) after Marten van Cleve (I), 1579. Atlas Van Stolk, Rotterdam
Haecht’s image mixes humans and symbolic animals within a natural world where soldiers lead off cattle, steal sheep and chase birds. Since feeding the Spanish army was an ongoing problem such actions were not uncommon sights for Low Countries citizens. However, these actions are made more horrific by their juxtaposition with the gluttonous, lusty and slothful Bruegelesque characters on the left.6 Personal comfort outweighs concern for the general welfare, and these humans materialise as the bad dream of hypocritical advice pillowing the lion’s head. The personal peril suffered by the beasts is also summarised at the communal level by the wicker basket filled with birds and pigs. Their numbers seven and two suggest the States-General membership of the seven northern provinces as well as Brabant and Flanders.7
The numbering of the key protagonists, not really needed for reading the image from left to right, leads the viewer through simple rhymes below summarising the nature or condition of each beast: ‘Den leeu die slaapt; Den Wolf die ghaept; Den Vos die steelt; Den Hondt die bast; Den Esel lijdt last; Het Scaepken queelt’. The short phrases reinforce the clarity of the actions depicted and generate a cumulative effect: the lion sleeps; the wolf steals; the fox robs; the dog barks; the ass is burdened; the sheep suffers. The blame for this condition is clearly stated above: ‘When 1567 was writ, it was scandalous that the lion remained sleeping so long’. However, the text’s use of the present tense to describe the animals’ actions implies that things have not changed, and that the increasing evils are due to that initial negligence of the country’s leaders.
The Gluttonous Wolf print (Fig. 8.3) states that the lion finally awoke in 1578 and recognised the wolf’s nature, but visually it is the petitioning by the sheep, guard dog and ass that cause the lion’s awakening. They, more than the lion, are the primary forces achieving the expulsion of the intruders as dog attacks fox, and stag and ass smite the wolf. The monkey and the cat – enemies who have sought their safety in the trees – observe the battle, as do the lion and sheep. It is tempting to see each animal not only as a protagonist from The Sleeping Lion print, but also as military leaders of the Revolt. Yet none of them can be convincingly linked with an animal persona thus far.
Fig. 8.3
The Gluttonous Wolf. Engraving by Antonie Wierix (II) after Marten van Cleve (I), 1579. Atlas Van Stolk, Rotterdam
The central group depicts the gluttony of the wolf but also the willingness of fox, cat and dog to take what they can get. The cat’s apron pocket indicates that it has already helped itself. The dead goose and pig lying near the dogs imply the wolf has been gorging himself on the towns and provinces indiscriminately, yet the dogs are indifferent to their compatriots’ plight. The merciless behaviour of King Philip’s military commander Don Juan in seizing towns such as Namur (1577) is transformed here and the true nature of the Spanish leaders (greediness and lack of concern for the general welfare) is revealed. In addition, the behaviour of the wolf’s attendants recalls the events of late 1578 and early 1579 when Don Juan’s successor Alexander Farnese, prince of Parma, attempted to placate the malcontent southern nobles through monetary incentives in order to regain their territories for the Spanish fold.8 This dialogue of the cat, fox and wolf confirms the visual message. Cat and fox find that the wolf has swallowed too much for his own health. The wolf replies that neither would have had their share if he had not. While David Kunzle argues that the cat and fox are forcing the wolf (Spain) to disgorge the innocent creatures it has swallowed, their actions suggest rather that they support the wolf but want their own share.9 The appetite of the wolf is insatiable and non-discriminatory, for the heads poking out of his food bag seem fox-like. The repulsive behaviour of the wolf’s supporters is evident from their cannibalistic interest in regurgitated food.
In the final print, The Blind Shepherds (Fig. 8.4), Haecht uses a rebus system to warn against leaders lacking true spiritual faith. The parallels between the animal and human kingdom are visualised through scenes of robbery, captivity and threatened slaughter. In constructing the rebus phrases, the world visualised becomes the most fantastical of the series. Two Bruegelesque blind shepherds set out with a dog guiding them towards a large ditch.10 God displays a commandment requiring his children to love Him and to love their neighbours as themselves, but his Word is ignored. The spiritually blind flaunt God’s law through their foolishness which leads to the wolves shearing the sheep. This is more succinctly stated in the rebus and below: ‘Schout blinde herders die Godts wet ontbeiren, Want deur haer sotheijt wolven de schapen scheiren’. This image also seems to function well as a tableau vivant rather than a smoothly flowing narrative. For the non-Dutch reader a few images must have been rather puzzling since some rebuses only have meaning in Dutch – such as the symbols for connectives dij (a bird’s thigh) for die and a mitten for want. Yet the basic message comes through nonetheless: physical blindness as symbolic of spiritual negligence; ignorance of God’s law; and the foolishness of expecting a wolf to change its nature and not be greedy.
Fig. 8.4
The Blind Shepherds. Engraving by Antonie Wierix (II) after Marten van Cleve (I), 1579. Engraving 20 x 32.8 cm. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam
What did this message mean in the context of 1579? Despite the attempts to achieve some sort of religious stasis during the summer of 1578, public Catholic and Protestant worship remained an important issue. In addition, Alexander Farnese persuaded the Walloon provinces of the Southern Netherlands to return to the Spanish fold with the Treaty of Arras in January of 1579, and continued to work on reconciling the malcontent members of the nobility. That same month the northern provinces formed their own counter pact in the Union of Utrecht.11 Haecht’s print blames the Catholics and royalists for the evils of contemporary life.
All four prints share the themes of physical peril, loss and lack of insight symbolised through sleep and blindness. The viewer is exhorted not to trust the enemy (identified by its base character); to awaken to dangers and to unite in saving each other from physical and economic peril. The narrative modes of the series have theatrical and literary affiliations with the Reformation themes of the world upside down and spiritual blindness.12 From a literary perspective interest in animal fables remained strong. During the mid-1560s and late 1570s numerous editions of Aesop appeared, plus derivative texts such as Eduard de Dene’s Waerachtige Fabulen der Dieren (1567). His book was translated into French and reissued in 1578 and 1579.13 The continued popularity of animal epics such as Reynaert de Vos, and cross-fertilisation of the fable tradition with emblem books ensured an audience familiar with fable conventions. Church and school also played a pedagogical role as Protestant reformers like Luther encouraged the use of fables for moral instruction and retention.14
The employment of fable-related imagery in the service of political and religious propaganda can be confirmed precisely during the decade when Haecht marketed these prints. In 1569 the bishop of Cologne staged an animal combat at Brussels between a lion (the duke of Alva) and a steer (the prince of Orange) to show which leader would be victorious.15 When the lion wounds the steer, the steer attacks the lion so fiercely it must finally be shot to avoid killing its enemy. The choice of a steer as representative of the Prince evokes his tenaciousness and strength, and may also imply the advantage of the native versus exotic species in terms of leadership. In a later instance, a Dutch medal of 1578 (Fig. 8.5) designed by Gerard van Bylaer, the battle is placed on a larger footing. The obverse showed the prince of Orange as David battling Goliath; the reverse, according to the inscription, the Netherlands lion battling the Spanish pig.16 The fascination with the strength and courage of animals in cross-species combat ties in with other non-political prints issued in 1578. Philip Galle’s book of hunting parties dedicated to Cosimo de’ Medici included a print of a fight staged indoors among dogs, lion, steer and horse (Fig. 8.6).17 In this instance the animals outflank the lion despite his strength.
Fig. 8.5
Gerard van Bylaer, Dutch metal of 1578 (‘Succes in de strijd tegen Spanje’). Silver, diameter 4.2 cm. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam
Fig. 8.6
Fight among a Lion, Horse, Bull and Dogs, from Philip Galle’s book on Hunting Parties (from the series ‘Venationes Ferarum, Avium, Piscium’). Print by Philip Galle after Jan van der Straet. Published Antwerp, 1578. Courtesy of the Trustees of the British Museum, London
From a thematic perspective the equation of human and animal behaviour had a very long tradition in the depiction of vices and virtues.18 Proverbs and folk sayings helped circulate these associations in the public memory. Naming became a powerful device of equation. For instance, a personal friend and supporter of William of Orange, the German nobleman Willem van Hessen, received an anonymous drawing in a letter of 28 February 1577.19 The drawing responded to concerns about the Eternal Edict signed between Don Juan and the States-General of the Netherlands. The representatives of the States holding onto an ox’s tail are led to the slaughterhouse by Don Juan and a Catholic monk. Like stupid oxen, they too will lose their heads for they ignore their peril.19
Similar associations could work against the enemy on a personal level in the propaganda of the Revolt. The Carmelite friar Peter Lupus (or wolf) was blamed for his influence in persuading the Catholic governor of Mechelen, De Bours, to restore the city to the prince of Parma. The motive of personal greed was cited for each protagonist, and Haecht’s print would seem to be very relevant to the general issue. Likewise, Prior Renty accused the malcontent nobility of the Southern Netherlands of playing both sides against the middle – ‘the fatted calf had been killed for them, after they had so long been feeding with perverse heretical pigs’.20 He found them mutinous as ever and intent on establishing their own oligarchy instead of reconciliation with the King.
The use of animals as vehicles of propaganda offered the advantage of clarity of identification unlike abstract personifications. In addition it could connect easily with a much broader oral tradition already acknowledged in the Reformation broadsheets. The borrowing of ready-made characters like wolf, sheep and fox establishes familiarity, but may also have carried over associations from polemical religious messages in which the world is represented as a garden or sheepfold and attacked by base enemies identified as wolves or foxes wearing cardinal’s hats or papal tiaras.21
If these long-lived visual traditions predominated, to what extent was a verbalisation of the print’s message necessary? In this series none of the images would have been totally effective without the labels and inscriptions, precisely because those visual traditions gave a great dealof leeway in polemical interpretation since the opposing sides used the same characters. A more interesting question might be whether Haecht’s choices of narrative (fable or allegory) reflected a sensitivity to likely censorship, and whether the differences in the visual or verbal emphases was a method to circumvent the censorious eye by disguising its criticism under unassuming visual conventions.
In that sense, the fable mode in prints might have found its sources in the oral traditions of rederijker songs from competitions; these interests could be historical as well. For instance, Van Meteren mentions a sixteenth-century Zierikzee rederijker’s song commemorating the Flemish siege and subsequent relief of Zierikzee in 1304. The song used the symbolic system of a cat and dog fight for its narrative.22 It is tempting to speculate whether Haecht’s rederijkers, the Antwerp Violieren, might have produced something similar to the satirical fables discussed here. At least the pairing of animal and fool was not foreign to rederijker traditions, and their evocation in these prints acknowledges these roots.23 The stopped-action effects of the prints parallel the theatrical conventions of tableaux vivants or successive scenes enacted across a partitioned stage.
Haecht’s fable series offers the opportunity to study how a rather generic narrative system can be exploited in a series of polemical images appealing to elements of popular culture. Experimental solutions to the perennial problem of audience appeal are made by using character types familiar from chamber of rhetoric productions, fable and proverb oral traditions, and mimetic devices to clarify the abbreviated texts. While this sample of four is insufficient to draw any general conclusions, it demonstrates the rich sources available to evaluate the styles of visual learning used in print culture even within a single series. Moreover, while standard interpretations of political broadsheets argue for their short-lived topicality, Haecht uses narrative forms that largely evade this. There is very little information within the prints to conjoin them with historical events. The method of presentation even tends to support cyclical interpretations, as the animals are portrayed as unchanging in nature and mankind succumbs to the deadly sins of sloth, greed and anger. Political and social problems breed from these perennial faults. Yet Haecht does acknowledge specific dates as historically important, and relates them to the political and social conditions of his country. The conjunction of these generates a concept of history specific to Haecht’s environment.
However, Haecht did not evaluate his world only from that vernacular perspective; he also published an illustrated book in 1578, Tyrannorum proema or Den loon der tyrannen, on the tyrants of classical and biblical history.24 His interest in a serial form of knowledge led him to publish allegorical prints commemorating the various treatises signed during the late 1570s, as did other Antwerp artists such as Philip Galle and Jacob de Gheyn the Elder.25 Such works need to be studied in conjunction, for they confirm Haecht’s awareness of varied tastes within the audiences for prints. The close associations of the fable mode with popular cultural traditions requires a restudy of polemical prints as more subtle markers of audiences, and the exploration of the function of such different methods of presenting knowledge.