Q by Luther Blissett (poetry books to read txt) 📕

they utter edicts, issue rewards, stupid clay-footed giants, unaware that he is everywhere, that his apostles have reached the cities, the villages, announcing the end of time. Jan Matthys is that name, brothers! He is the true Enoch, the one who will come at the end of time to inaugurate the celestial city! After us, Matthys the Great!’

Dumbfounded, embarrassed, silent. Anxiety has spread among the rows of people while Jan was speaking, a dazed unease that makes people look each other closely in the face, just to be sure that they are still the same. Burghers, workers, artisans, mothers, rough faces, strong hands. Young, all of them, since poverty doesn’t give you time to grow old. Have I really come to say that somewhere the hope of redemption and the kingdom still exists? The handsome maturity of Rothmann, their preacher, and Bockelson’s twenty-five years whisper in their ears that it is possible.

A stout man, beer belly and powerful shoulders, embraces Jan of Leyden, kissing him on his beard. Rothmann’s gauntness and his flattering voice, along with the bear-like mound of the representative of the artisans’ guilds of M�nster: Berndt Knipperdolling, tanner and tailor. He jumps on to the table we’re standing on, and it creaks alarmingly: ‘Welcome to the apostles of the Great Matthys, on behalf of the entire community of the brethren of M�nster. You who are present today will tell the story of this day to your grandchildren, because this is the beginning of everything. God has looked upon our city of M�nster and decided: this is the place where it will all begin. We have begun the struggle, and we will take it to its conclusion. And you may be certain that it will not be easy: we will have to stand up to the bishop, we will have to wrest the power from the hands of the notables, that task may involve the shedding of sweat and perhaps even blood. But the moment has come, it cannot wait much longer. That is why I say: if anyone does not feel it, may they leave us now and go to hell. Amen.’

A single clamour of raised fists, clapping hands and clattering tools.

*

‘Your name flies on the wings of the wind: Bernhard Rothmann, preacher of the oppressed.’

He laughs, persuasive, sincere, with a way of moving his hands and his body that wins the sympathy of the people. I couldn’t say whether it’s deliberate or natural, but I have already been told of the rumours circulating about the irresistible power that Rothmann exerts over the ladies of M�nster. They say that more than one husband would like to see him dangling from the shafts of a cart, and not for reasons of faith. It seems that women find his sermons truly irresistible, and they linger for a long time, after the functions, to discuss them in private with the preacher. Furthermore, he’s not short of presence, he really doesn’t show his forty years.’

‘Matthys’ name has been talked about just as much, if not more. We anxiously await him.’

‘He’ll be here soon. It’s important for all of us that you meet one another.’

He nods as he offers me a drink. ‘There’s a huge amount to be done. You’ve seen, we’re solid, but we’re few in number. We’ve got to gain advantage one day at a time.’

‘Mhm. Do you know how many of you there are?’

He shows me to a battered armchair, the only piece of furniture in the room where he’s staying, apart from his wicker bed.

‘It’s difficult to assess the effective forces we can rely on. The situation is uncertain. Bishop von Waldeck sneaked off the minute things in the city started swinging in the direction of the Protestants, and now he’s a few miles from here, conferring with his feudal lords. The Catholics have gone into hiding, and are keeping their heads down as they wait for the pig to come back, possibly armed, to sweep away us Baptists and all the Lutherans.’

‘And why doesn’t he do it?’

‘Because he knows that if he did he would reawaken the municipal spirit of M�nster and everyone would form a coalition against him. The city doesn’t want to go back to being his personal possession.’ A smile. ‘We’ve done something good, and we’ve got to acknowledge that. Von Waldeck is sly, my friend, very sly. We mustn’t make the mistake of underestimating him or thinking that he’s out of the game. He remains our greatest enemy.’

I’m starting to understand. ‘And inside the walls?’

He brightens. ‘The Lutherans and the Catholics will join together to oppose our success among the people, the workers and Knipperdolling’s artisans. Almost all the big merchants who vote for the Council are Lutherans, and they’ve elected two of their own as burgomasters: J�defeldt and Tilbeck. J�defeldt is unreliable, he’s a spineless wretch who’s as frightened of the bishop as he would be of the devil. Tilbeck seems to have a certain regard for us, he’d do anything just to avoid having the bishop’s men back in the city, but even him we can’t trust too much. The common people are all on our side, and that frightens them, they’re afraid of being toppled. And they’re right to be. In turn, however, they don’t trust the Catholics, because they’re afraid that the Catholics will give the city to the bishop.’ He shrugs his shoulders. ‘As you see, the situation is anything but certain. We’ve got to play on two fronts: the bishop out there, with his spies in the city, and the Lutherans inside, his adversaries but certainly not our friends. So far we’ve managed to beat them every time they’ve tried to throw us out. The population defended us, that’s our strength.’

‘The people, yes. Your words today reminded me of a man I knew years ago when I was more or less Jan’s age. I fought for those words. And I admit that I didn’t think I’d do it again.’

‘Is that supposed to be a compliment?’

‘I think so. But you should be aware that I lost everything back then.’

His face shows that he understands. ‘Are you frightened? Is the apostle of the Great Matthys afraid of being defeated for a second time?’

‘No, it isn’t that. I just wanted to say that you’ve got to be alert, you’ve got to be cautious.’

He runs a hand through his hair and adjusts the pleats of his clothes, a poor fabric worn with incredible elegance: ‘I know. But now I’ve got the very best allies by my side.’ He always manages to flatter you. ‘Jan of Leyden spoke with fire in his veins.’

I laugh loudly. ‘Jan’s a madman, a colossal rogue, a great actor and a successful whoremonger. But he knows how to do it, without a doubt. It’s important to have him with us, I’ve seen him at work. He’s a real war-machine when he wants to be.’

This time we laugh together.�