The clergy of Spain, and especially the Inquisition, contributed richly
towards the expenses of this expedition as to a holy war.  Throughout
Spain the enlisting was carried on with the utmost zeal.  The viceroys
and governors of Sardinia, Sicily, Naples, and Milan received orders to
select the best of their Italian and Spanish troops in the garrisons and
despatch them to the general rendezvous in the Genoese territory, where
the Duke of Alva would exchange them for the Spanish recruits which he
should bring with him.  At the same time the regent was commanded to
hold in readiness a few more regiments of German infanty in Luxembourg,
under the command of the Counts Eberstein, Schaumburg, and Lodrona, and
also some squadrons of light cavalry in the Duchy of Burgundy to
reinforce the Spanish general immediately on his entrance into the
provinces.  The Count of Barlaimont was commissioned to furnish the
necessary provision for the armament, and a sum of two hundred thousand
gold florins was remitted to the regent to enable her to meet these
expenses and to maintain her own troops.

The French court, however, under pretence of the danger to be
apprehended from the Huguenots, had refused to allow the Spanish army to
pass through France.  Philip applied to the Dukes of Savoy and Lorraine,
who were too dependent upon him to refuse his request.  The former
merely stipulated that he should be allowed to maintain two thousand
infantry and a squadron of horse at the king's expense in order to
protect his country from the injuries to which it might otherwise be
exposed from the passage of the Spanish army.  At the same time he
undertook to provide the necessary supplies for its maintenance during
the transit.

The rumor of this arrangement roused the Huguenots, the Genevese, the
Swiss, and the Grisons.  The Prince of Conde and the Admiral Coligny
entreated Charles IX. not to neglect so favorable a moment of inflicting
a deadly blow on the hereditary foe of France.  With the aid of the
Swiss, the Genevese, and his own Protestant subjects, it would, they
alleged, be an easy matter to destroy the flower of the Spanish troops
in the narrow passes of the Alpine mountains; and they promised to
support him in this undertaking with an army of fifty thousand
Huguenots.  This advice, however, whose dangerous object was not easily
to be mistaken, was plausibly declined by Charles IX., who assured them
that he was both able and anxious to provide for the security of his
kingdom.  He hastily despatched troops to cover the French frontiers;
and the republics of Geneva, Bern, Zurich, and the Grisons followed his
example, all ready to offer a determined opposition to the dreaded enemy
of their religion and their liberty.

On the 5th of May, 1567, the Duke of Alva set sail from Carthagena with
thirty galleys, which had been furnished by Andrew Doria and the Duke
Cosmo of Florence, and within eight days landed at Genoa, where the four
regiments were waiting to join him.  But a tertian ague, with which he
was seized shortly after his arrival, compelled him to remain for some
days inactive in Lombardy--a delay of which the neighboring powers
availed themselves to prepare for defence.  As soon as the duke
recovered he held at Asti, in Montferrat, a review of all his troops,
who were more formidable by their valor than by their numbers, since
cavalry and infantry together did not amount to much above ten thousand
men.  In his long and perilous march he did not wish to encumber himself
with useless supernumeraries, which would only impede his progress and
increase the difficulty of supporting his army.  These ten thousand
veterans were to form the nucleus of a greater army, which, according as
circumstances and occasion might require, he could easily assemble in
the Netherlands themselves.

This array, however, was as select as it was small.  It consisted of the
remains of those victorious legions at whose head Charles V. had made
Europe tremble; sanguinary, indomitable bands, in whose battalions the
firmness of the old Macedonian phalanx lived again; rapid in their
evolutions from long practice, hardy and enduring, proud of their
leader's success, and confident from past victories, formidable by their
licentiousness, but still more so by their discipline; let loose with
all the passions of a warmer climate upon a rich and peaceful country,
and inexorable towards an enemy whom the church had cursed.  Their
fanatical and sanguinary spirit, their thirst for glory and innate
courage was aided by a rude sensuality, the instrument by which the
Spanish general firmly and surely ruled his otherwise intractable
troops.  With a prudent indulgence he allowed riot and voluptuousness
to reign throughout the camp.  Under his tacit connivance Italian
courtezans followed the standards; even in the march across the
Apennines, where the high price of the necessaries of life compelled him
to reduce his force to the smallest possible number, he preferred to
have a few regiments less rather than to leave behind these instruments
of voluptuousness.

     [The bacchanalian procession of this army contrasted strangely
     enough with the gloomy seriousness and pretended sanctity of his
     aim.  The number of these women was so great that to restrain the
     disorders and quarrelling among themselves they hit upon the
     expedient of establishing a discipline of their own.  They ranged
     themselves under particular flags, marched in ranks and sections,
     and in admirable military order, after each battalion, and classed
     themselves with strict etiquette according to their rank and pay.]

But industriously as Alva strove to relax the morals of his soldiers,
he enforced the more rigidly a strict military discipline, which was
interrupted only by a victory or rendered less severe by a battle.
For all this he had, he said, the authority of the Athenian General
Iphicrates, who awarded the prize of valor to the pleasure-loving and
rapacious soldier.  The more irksome the restraint by which the passions
of the soldiers were kept in check, the greater must have been the
vehemence with which they broke forth at the sole outlet which was left
open to them.

The duke divided his infantry, which was about nine thousand strong, and
chiefly Spaniards, into four brigades, and gave the command of them to
four Spanish officers.  Alphonso of Ulloa led the Neapolitan brigade of
nine companies, amounting to three thousand two hundred and thirty men;
Sancho of Lodogno commanded the Milan brigade, three thousand two
hundred men in ten companies; the Sicilian brigade, with the same number
of companies, and consisting of sixteen hundred men, was under Julian
Romero, an experienced warrior, who had already fought on Belgian
ground.

     [The same officer who commanded one of the Spanish regiments about
     which so much complaint had formerly been made in the States-
     General.]

Gonsalo of Braccamonte headed that of Sardinia, which was raised by
three companies of recruits to the full complement of the former.  To
every company, moreover, were added fifteen Spanish musqueteers.  The
horse, in all twelve hundred strong, consisted of three Italian, two
Albanian, and seven Spanish squadrons, light and heavy cavalry, and the
chief command was held by Ferdinand and Frederick of Toledo, the two
sons of Alva.  Chiappin Vitelli, Marquis of Cetona, was field-marshal;
a celebrated general whose services had been made over to the King of
Spain by Cosmo of Florence; and Gabriel Serbellon was general of
artillery.  The Duke of Savoy lent Alva an experienced engineer, Francis
Pacotto, of Urbino, who was to be employed in the erection of new
fortifications.  His standard was likewise followed by a number of
volunteers, and the flower of the Spanish nobility, of whom the greater
part had fought under Charles V. in Germany, Italy, and before Tunis.
Among these were Christopher Mondragone, one of the ten Spanish heroes
who, near Mithlbehg, swam across the Elbe with their swords between
their teeth, and, under a shower of bullets from the enemy, brought over
from the opposite shore the boats which the emperor required for the
construction of a bridge.  Sancho of Avila, who had been trained to war
under Alva himself, Camillo of Monte, Francis Ferdugo, Karl Davila,
Nicolaus Basta, and Count Martinego, all fired with a noble ardor,
either to commence their military career under so eminent a leader, or
by another glorious campaign under his command to crown the fame they
had already won.  After the review the army marched in three divisions
across Mount Cenis, by the very route which sixteen centuries before
Hannibal is said to have taken.  The duke himself led the van; Ferdinand
of Toledo, with whom was associated Lodogno as colonel, the centre; and
the Marquis of Cetona the rear.  The Commissary General, Francis of
Ibarra, was sent before with General Serbellon to open the road for the
main body, and get ready the supplies at the several quarters for the
night.  The places which the van left in the morning were entered in the
evening by the centre, which in its turn made room on the following day
for the rear.  Thus the army crossed the Alps of Savoy by regular
stages, and with the fourteenth day completed that dangerous passage.
A French army of observation accompanied it side by side along the
frontiers of Dauphins, and the course of the Rhone, and the allied army
of the Genevese followed it on the right, and was passed by it at a
distance of seven miles.  Both these armies of observation carefully
abstained from any act of hostility, and were merely intended to cover
their own frontiers.  As the Spanish legions ascended and descended the
steep mountain crags, or while they crossed the rapid Iser, or file by
file wound through the narrow passes of the rocks, a handful of men
would have been sufficient to put an entire stop to their march, and to
drive them back into the mountains, where they would have been
irretrievably lost, since at each place of encampment supplies were
provided for no more than a single day, and for a third part only of the
whole force.  But a supernatural awe and dread of the Spanish name
appeared to have blinded the eyes of the enemy so that they did not
perceive their advantage, or at least did not venture to profit by it.
In order to give them as little opportunity as possible of remembering
it, the Spanish general hastened through this dangerous pass.

Convinced, too, that if his troops gave the slightest umbrage he was
lost, the strictest discipline was maintained during the march; not a
single peasant's hut, not a single field was injured; and never,
perhaps, in the memory of man was so numerous an army led so far in such
excellent order.

     [Once only on entering Lorraine three horsemen ventured to drive
     away a few sheep from a flock, of which circumstance the duke was
     no sooner informed than he sent back to the owner what had been
     taken from him and sentenced the offenders to be hung.  This
     sentence was, at the intercession of the Lorraine general, who had
     come to the frontiers to pay his respects to the duke, executed on
     only one of the three, upon whom the lot fell at the drum-head.]

Destined as this army was for vengeance and murder, a malignant and
baleful star seemed to conduct it safe through all dangers; and it would
be difficult to decide whether the prudence of its general or the
blindness of its enemies is most to be wondered at.

In Franche Comte, four squadrons of Burgundian cavalry, newly-raised,
joined the main army, which, at Luxembourg, was also reinforced by three
regiments of German infantry under the command of Counts Eberstein,
Schaumburg, and Lodrona.  From Thionville, where he halted a few days,
Alva sent his salutations to the regent by Francis of Ibarra, who was,
at the same time, directed to consult her on the quartering of the
troops.  On her part, Noircarmes and Barlairnont were despatched to the
Spanish camp to congratulate the duke on his arrival, and to show him
the customary marks of honor.  At the same time they were directed to
ask him to produce the powers entrusted to him by the king, of which,
however, he only showed a part.  The envoys of the regent were followed
by swarms of the Flemish nobility, who thought they could not hasten
soon enough to conciliate the favor of the new viceroy, or by a timely
submission avert the vengeance which was preparing.  Among them was
Count Egmont.  As he came forward the duke pointed him out to the
bystanders.  "Here comes an arch-heretic," he exclaimed, loud enough to
be heard by Egmont himself, who, surprised at these words, stopped and
changed color.  But when the duke, in order to repair his imprudence,
went up to him with a serene countenance, and greeted him with a
friendly embrace, the Fleming was ashamed of his fears, and made light
of this warning, by putting some frivolous interpretation upon it.
Egmont sealed this new friendship with a present of two valuable
chargers, which Alva accepted with a grave condescension.

Upon the assurance of the regent that the provinces were in the
enjoyment of perfect peace, and that no opposition was to be apprehended
from any quarter, the duke discharged some German regiments, which had
hitherto drawn their pay from the Netherlands.  Three thousand six
hundred men, under the command of Lodrona, were quartered in Antwerp,
from which town the Walloon garrison, in which full reliance could not
be placed, was withdrawn; garrisons proportionably stronger were thrown
into Ghent and other important places; Alva himself marched with the
Milan brigade towards Brussels, whither he was accompanied by a splendid
cortege of the noblest in the land.

Here, as in all the other towns of the Netherlands, fear and terror had
preceded him, and all who were conscious of any offences, and even those
who were sensible of none, alike awaited his approach with a dread
similar to that with which criminals see the coming of their day of
trial.  All who could tear themselves from the ties of family, property,
and country had already fled, or now at last took to flight.  The
advance of the Spanish army had already, according to the report of the
regent, diminished the population of the provinces by the loss of one
hundred thousand citizens, and this general flight still continued.  But
the arrival of the Spanish general could not be more hateful to the
people of the Netherlands than it was distressing and dispiriting to the
regent.  At last, after so many years of anxiety, she had begun to taste
the sweets of repose, and that absolute-authority, which had been the
long-cherished object of eight years of a troubled and difficult
administration.  This late fruit of so much anxious industry, of so many
cares and nightly vigils, was now to be wrested from her by a stranger,
who was to be placed at once in possession of all the advantages which
she had been forced to extract from adverse circumstances, by a long
and tedious course of intrigue and patient endurance.  Another was
lightly to bear away the prize of promptitude, and to triumph by more
rapid success over her superior but less glittering merits.  Since the
departure of the minister, Granvella, she had tasted to the full the
pleasures of independence.  The flattering homage of the nobility, which
allowed her more fully to enjoy the shadow of power, the more they
deprived her of its substance, had, by degrees, fostered her vanity to
such an extent, that she at last estranged by her coldness even the most
upright of all her servants, the state counsellor Viglius, who always
addressed her in the language of truth.  All at once a censor of her
actions was placed at her side, a partner of her power was associated
with her, if indeed it was not rather a master who was forced upon her,
whose proud, stubborn, and imperious spirit, which no courtesy could
soften, threatened the deadliest wounds to her self-love and vanity.  To
prevent his arrival she had, in her representations to the king, vainly
exhausted every political argument.  To no purpose had she urged that
the utter ruin of the commerce of the Netherlands would be the
inevitable consequence of; this introduction of the Spanish troops; in
vain had she assured the king that peace was universally restored, and
reminded him of her own services in procuring it, which deserved, she
thought, a better guerdon than to see all the fruits of her labors
snatched from her and given to a foreigner, and more than all, to behold
all the good which she had effected destroyed by a new and different
line of conduct.  Even when the duke had already crossed Mount Cenis she
made one more attempt, entreating him at least to diminish his army; but
that also failed, for the duke insisted upon acting up to the powers
entrusted to him.  In poignant grief she now awaited his approach, and
with the tears she shed for her country were mingled those of offended
self-love.

On the 22d of August, 1567, the Duke of Alva appeared before the gates
of Brussels.  His army immediately took up their quarters in the
suburbs, and he himself made it his first duty to pay his respects to
the sister of his king.  She gave him a private audience on the plea of
suffering from sickness.  Either the mortification she had undergone had
in reality a serious effect upon her health, or, what is not improbable,
she had recourse to this expedient to pain his haughty spirit, and in
some degree to lessen his triumph.  He delivered to her letters from the
king, and laid before her a copy of his own appointment, by which the
supreme command of the whole military force of the Netherlands was
committed to him, and from which, therefore, it would appear, that the
administration of civil affairs remained, as heretofore, in the hands of
the regent.  But as soon as he was alone with her he produced a new
commission, which was totally different from the former.  According to
this, the power was delegated to him of making war at his discretion,
of erecting fortifications, of appointing and dismissing at pleasure the
governors of provinces, the commandants of towns, and other officers of
the king; of instituting inquiries into the past troubles, of punishing
those who originated them, and of rewarding the loyal.  Powers of this
extent, which placed him almost on a level with a sovereign prince, and
far surpassed those of the regent herself, caused her the greatest
consternation, and it was with difficulty that she could conceal her
emotion.  She asked the duke whether he had not even a third commission,
or some special orders in reserve which went still further, and were
drawn up still more precisely, to which he replied distinctly enough in
the affirmative, but at the same time gave her to understand that this
commission might be too full to suit the present occasion, and would be
better brought into play hereafter with due regard to time and
circumstances.  A few days after his arrival he caused a copy of the
first instructions to be laid before the several councils and the
states, and had them printed to insure their rapid circulation.  As the
regent resided in the palace, he took up his quarters temporarily in
Kuilemberg house, the same in which the association of the Gueux had
received its name, and before which, through a wonderful vicissitude,
Spanish tyranny now planted its flag.

A dead silence reigned in Brussels, broken only at times by the unwonted
clang of arms.  The duke had entered the town but a few hours when his
attendants, like bloodhounds that have been slipped, dispersed
themselves in all directions.  Everywhere foreign faces were to be seen;
the streets were empty, all the houses carefully closed, all amusements
suspended, all public places deserted.  The whole metropolis resembled a
place visited by the plague.  Acquaintances hurried on without stopping
for their usual greeting; all hastened on the moment a Spaniard showed
himself in the streets.  Every sound startled them, as if it were the
knock of the officials of justice at their doors; the nobility, in
trembling anxiety, kept to their houses; they shunned appearing in
public lest their presence should remind the new viceroy of some past
offence.  The two nations now seemed to have exchanged characters.  The
Spaniard had become the talkative man and the Brabanter taciturn;
distrust and fear had scared away the spirit of cheerfulness and mirth;
a constrained gravity fettered even the play of the features.  Every
moment the impending blow was looked for with dread.

This general straining of expectation warned the duke to hasten the
accomplishment of his plans before they should be anticipated by the
timely flight of his victims.  His first object was to secure the
suspected nobles, in order, at once and forever, to deprive the faction
of its leaders, and the nation, whose freedom was to be crushed, of all
its supporters.  By a pretended affability he had succeeded in lulling
their first alarm, and in restoring Count Egmont in particular to his
former perfect confidence, for which purpose he artfully employed his
sons, Ferdinand and Frederick of Toledo, whose companionableness and
youth assimilated more easily with the Flemish character.  By this
skilful advice he succeeded also in enticing Count Horn to Brussels,
who had hitherto thought it advisable to watch the first measures of the
duke from a distance, but now suffered himself to be seduced by the good
fortune of his friend.  Some of the nobility, and Count Egmont at the
head of them, even resumed their former gay style of living.  But they
themselves did not do so with their whole hearts, and they had not many
imitators.  Kuilemberg house was incessantly besieged by a numerous
crowd, who thronged around the person of the new viceroy, and exhibited
an affected gayety on their countenances, while their hearts were wrung
with distress and fear.  Egmont in particular assumed the appearance of
a light heart, entertaining the duke's sons, and being feted by them in
return.  Meanwhile, the duke was fearful lest so fair an opportunity for
the accomplishment of his plans might not last long, and lest some act
of imprudence might destroy the feeling of security which had tempted
both his victims voluntarily to put themselves into his power; he only
waited for a third; Hogstraten also was to be taken in the same net.
Under a plausible pretext of business he therefore summoned him to the
metropolis.  At the same time that he purposed to secure the three
counts in Brussels, Colonel Lodrona was to arrest the burgomaster,
Strahlen, in Antwerp, an intimate friend of the Prince of Orange, and
suspected of having favored the Calvinists; another officer was to seize
the private secretary of Count Egmont, whose name was John Cassembrot
von Beckerzeel, as also some secretaries of Count Horn, and was to
possess themselves of their papers.

When the day arrived which had been fixed upon for the execution of this
plan, the duke summoned all the counsellors and knights before him to
confer with them upon matters of state.  On this occasion the Duke of
Arschot, the Counts Mansfeld, Barlaimont, and Aremberg attended on the
part of the Netherlands, and on the part of the Spaniards besides the
duke's sons, Vitelli, Serbellon, and Ibarra.  The young Count Mansfeld,
who likewise appeared at the meeting, received a sign from his father to
withdraw with all speed, and by a hasty flight avoid the fate which was
impending over him as a former member of the Geusen league.  The duke
purposely prolonged the consultation to give time before he acted for
the arrival of the couriers from Antwerp, who were to bring him the
tidings of the arrest of the other parties.  To avoid exciting any
suspicion, the engineer, Pacotto, was required to attend the meeting to
lay before it the plans for some fortifications.  At last intelligence
was brought him that Lodrona had successfully executed his commission.
Upon this the duke dexterously broke off the debate and dismissed the
council.  And now, as Count Egmont was about to repair to the apartment
of Don Ferdinand, to finish a game that he had commenced with him, the
captain of the duke's body guard, Sancho D'Avila, stopped him, and
demanded his sword in the king's name.  At the same time he was
surrounded by a number of Spanish soldiers, who, as had been
preconcerted, suddenly advanced from their concealment.  So unexpected
a blow deprived Egmont for some moments of all powers of utterance and
recollection; after a while, however, he collected himself, and taking
his sword from his side with dignified composure, said, as he delivered
it into the hands of the Spaniard, "This sword has before this on more
than one occasion successfully defended the king's cause."  Another
Spanish officer arrested Count Horn as he was returning to his house
without the least suspicion of danger.  Horn's first inquiry was after
Egmont.  On being told that the same fate had just happened to his
friend he surrendered himself without resistance.  "I have suffered
myself to be guided by him," he exclaimed, "it is fair that I should
share his destiny."  The two counts were placed in confinement in
separate apartments.  While this was going on in the interior of
Kuilemberg house the whole garrison were drawn out under arms in front
of it.  No one knew what had taken place inside, a mysterious terror
diffused itself throughout Brussels until rumor spread the news of this
fatal event.  Each felt as if he himself were the sufferer; with many
indignation at Egmont's blind infatuation preponderated over sympathy
for his fate; all rejoiced that Orange had escaped.  The first question
of the Cardinal Granvella, too, when these tidings reached him in Rome,
is said to have been, whether they had taken the Silent One also.  On
being answered in the negative he shook his head "then as they have let
him escape they have got nothing."  Fate ordained better for the Count
of Hogstraten.  Compelled by ill-health to travel slowly, he was met by
the report of this event while he was yet on his way.  He hastily turned
back, and fortunately escaped destruction.  Immediately after Egmont's
seizure a writing was extorted from him, addressed to the commandant of
the citadel of Ghent, ordering that officer to deliver the fortress to
the Spanish Colonel Alphonso d'Ulloa.  Upon this the two counts were
then (after they had been for some weeks confined in Brussels) conveyed
under a guard of three thousand Spaniards to Ghent, where they remained
imprisoned till late in the following year.  In the meantime all their
papers had been seized.  Many of the first nobility who, by the
pretended kindness of the Duke of Alva, had allowed themselves to be
cajoled into remaining experienced the same fate.  Capital punishment
was also, without further delay, inflicted on all who before the duke's
arrival had been taken with arms in their hands.  Upon the news of
Egmont's arrest a second body of about twenty thousand inhabitants took
up the wanderer's staff, besides the one hundred thousand who, prudently
declining to await the arrival of the Spanish general, had already
placed themselves in safety.

     [A great part of these fugitives helped to strengthen the army of
     the Huguenots, who had taken occasion, from the passage of the
     Spanish army through Lorraine, to assemble their forces, and now
     pressed Charles IX. hard.  On these grounds the French court
     thought it had a right to demand aid from the regent of the
     Netherlands.  It asserted that the Huguenots had looked upon the
     march of the Spanish army as the result of a preconcerted plan
     which had been formed against them by the two courts at Bayonne and
     that this had roused them from their slumber.  That consequently it
     behooved the Spanish court to assist in extricating the French king
     from difficulties into which the latter had been brought simply by
     the march of the Spanish troops.  Alva actually sent the Count of
     Aremberg with a considerable force to join the army of the Queen
     Mother in France, and even offered to command these subsidiaries in
     person, which, however, was declined.  Strada, 206. Thuan, 541.]

After so noble a life had been assailed no one counted himself safe any
longer; but many found cause to repent that they had so long deferred
this salutary step; for every day flight was rendered more difficult,
for the duke ordered all the ports to be closed, and punished the
attempt at emigration with death.  The beggars were now esteemed
fortunate, who had abandoned country and property in order to preserve
at least their liberty and their lives.




      ALVA'S FIRST MEASURES, AND DEPARTURE OF THE DUCHESS OF PARMA.

Alva's first step, after securing the most suspected of the nobles, was
to restore the Inquisition to its former authority, to put the decrees
of Trent again in force, abolish the "moderation," and promulgate anew
the edicts against heretics in all their original severity.  The court
of Inquisition in Spain had pronounced the whole nation of the
Netherlands guilty of treason in the highest degree, Catholics and
heterodox, loyalists and rebels, without distinction; the latter as
having offended by overt acts, the former as having incurred equal guilt
by their supineness.  From this sweeping condemnation a very few were
excepted, whose names, however, were purposely reserved, while the
general sentence was publicly confirmed by the king.  Philip declared
himself absolved from all his promises, and released from all
engagements which the regent in his name had entered into with the
people of the Netherlands, and all the justice which they had in future
to expect from him must depend on his own good-will and pleasure.  All
who had aided in the expulsion of the minister, Granvella, who had taken
part in the petition of the confederate nobles, or had but even spoken
in favor of it; all who had presented a petition against the decrees of
Trent, against the edicts relating to religion, or against the
installation of the bishops; all who had permitted the public
preachings, or had only feebly resisted them; all who had worn the
insignia of the Gueux, had sung Geusen songs, or who in any way
whatsoever had manifested their joy at the establishment of the league;
all who had sheltered or concealed the reforming preachers, attended
Calvinistic funerals, or had even merely known of their secret meetings,
and not given information of them; all who had appealed to the national
privileges; all, in fine, who had expressed an opinion that they ought
to obey God rather than man; all these indiscriminately were declared
liable to the penalties which the law imposed upon any violation of the
royal prerogative, and upon high treason; and these penalties were,
according to the instruction which Alva had received, to be executed on
the guilty persons without forbearance or favor; without regard to rank,
sex, or age, as an example to posterity, and for a terror to all future
times.  According to this declaration there was no longer an innocent
person to be found in the whole Netherlands, and the new viceroy had it
in his power to make a fearful choice of victims.  Property and life
were alike at his command, and whoever should have the good fortune to
preserve one or both must receive them as the gift of his generosity and
humanity.  By this stroke of policy, as refined as it was detestable,
the nation was disarmed, and unanimity rendered impossible.  As it
absolutely depended on the duke's arbitrary will upon whom the sentence
should be carried in force which had been passed without exception upon
all, each individual kept himself quiet, in order to escape, if
possible, the notice of the viceroy, and to avoid drawing the fatal
choice upon himself.  Every one, on the other hand, in whose favor he
was pleased to make an exception stood in a degree indebted to him, and
was personally under an obligation which must be measured by the value
he set upon his life and property.  As, however, this penalty could only
be executed on the smaller portion of the nation, the duke naturally
secured the greater by the strongest ties of fear and gratitude, and for
one whom he sought out as a victim he gained ten others whom he passed
over.  As long as he continued true to this policy he remained in quiet
possession of his rule, even amid the streams of blood which he caused
to flow, and did not forfeit this advantage till the want of money
compelled him to impose a burden upon the nation which oppressed all
indiscriminately.

In order to be equal to this bloody occupation, the details of which
were fast accumulating, and to be certain of not losing a single victim
through the want of instruments; and, on the other hand, to render his
proceedings independent of the states, with whose privileges they were
so much at variance, and who, indeed, were far too humane for him, he
instituted an extraordinary court of justice.  This court consisted of
twelve criminal judges, who, according to their instructions, to the
very letter of which they must adhere, were to try and pronounce
sentence upon those implicated in the past disturbances.  The mere
institution of such a board was a violation of the liberties of the
country, which expressly stipulated that no citizen should be tried out
of his own province; but the duke filled up the measure of his injustice
when, contrary to the most sacred privileges of the nation, he proceeded
to give seats and votes in that court to Spaniards, the open and avowed
enemies of Belgian liberty.  He himself was the president of this court,
and after him a certain licentiate, Vargas, a Spaniard by birth, of
whose iniquitous character the historians of both parties are unanimous;
cast out like a plague-spot from his own country, where he had violated
one of his wards, he was a shameless, hardened villain, in whose mind
avarice, lust, and the thirst for blood struggled for ascendancy.  The
principal members were Count Aremberg, Philip of Noircarmes, and Charles
of Barlaimont, who, however, never sat in it; Hadrian Nicolai,
chancellor of Gueldres; Jacob Mertens and Peter Asset, presidents of
Artois and Flanders; Jacob Hesselts and John de la Porte, counsellors of
Ghent; Louis del Roi, doctor of theology, and by birth a Spaniard; John
du Bois, king's advocate; and De la'Torre, secretary of the court.  In
compliance with the representations of Viglius the privy council was
spared any part in this tribunal; nor was any one introduced into it
from the great council at Malines.  The votes of the members were only
recommendatory, not conclusive, the final sentence being reserved by the
duke to himself.  No particular time was fixed for the sitting of the
court; the members, however, assembled at noon, as often as the duke
thought good.  But after the expiration of the third month Alva began to
be less frequent in his attendance, and at last resigned his place
entirely to his favorite, Vargas, who filled it with such odious fitness
that in a short time all the members, with the exception merely of the
Spanish doctor, Del Rio, and the secretary, De la Torre, weary of the
atrocities of which they were compelled to be both eyewitnesses and
accomplices, remained away from the assembly.

     [The sentences passed upon the most eminent persons (for example,
     the sentence of death passed upon Strahlen, the burgomaster of
     Antwerp), were signed only by Vargas, Del Rio, and De la Torre.]

It is revolting to the feelings to think how the lives of the noblest
and best were thus placed at the mercy of Spanish vagabonds, and how
even the sanctuaries of the nation, its deeds and charters, were
unscrupulously ransacked, the seals broken, and the most secret
contracts between the sovereign and the state profaned and exposed.

     [For an example of the unfeeling levity with which the most
     important matters, even decisions in cases of life and death, were
     treated in this sanguinary council, it may serve to relate what is
     told of the Counsellor Hesselts.  He was generally asleep during
     the meeting, and when his turn came to vote on a sentence of death
     he used to cry out, still half asleep: "Ad patibulum!  Ad
     patibulum!" so glibly did his tongue utter this word.  It is
     further to be remarked of this Hesselts, that his wife, a daughter
     of the President Viglius, had expressly stipulated in the marriage-
     contract that he should resign the dismal office of attorney for
     the king, which made him detested by the whole nation.  Vigl. ad
     Hopp. lxvii., L.]

From the council of twelve (which, from the object of its institution,
was called the council for disturbances, but on account of its
proceedings is more generally known under the appellation of the council
of blood, a name which the nation in their exasperation bestowed upon
it), no appeal was allowed.  Its proceedings could not be revised.  Its
verdicts were irrevocable and independent of all other authority.  No
other tribunal in the country could take cognizance of cases which
related to the late insurrection, so that in all the other courts
justice was nearly at a standstill.  The great council at Malines was
as good as abolished; the authority of the council of state entirely
ceased, insomuch that its sittings were discontinued.  On some rare
occasions the duke conferred with a few members of the late assembly,
but even when this did occur the conference was held in his cabinet, and
was no more than a private consultation, without any of the proper forms
being observed.  No privilege, no charter of immunity, however carefully
protected, had any weight with the council for disturbances.

     [Vargas, in a few words of barbarous Latin, demolished at once the
     boasted liberties of the Netherlands.  "Non curamus vestros
     privilegios," he replied to one who wished to plead the immunities
     of the University of Louvain.]

It compelled all deeds and contracts to be laid before it, and often
forced upon them the most strained interpetations and alterations.  If
the duke caused a sentence to be drawn out which there was reason to
fear might be opposed by the states of Brabant, it was legalized without
the Brabant seal.  The most sacred rights of individuals were assailed,
and a tyranny without example forced its arbitrary will even into the
circle of domestic life.  As the Protestants and rebels had hitherto
contrived to strengthen their party so much by marriages with the first
families in the country, the duke issued an edict forbidding all
Netherlanders, whatever might be their rank or office, under pain of
death and confiscation of property, to conclude a marriage without
previously obtaining his permission.

All whom the council for disturbances thought proper to summon before it
were compelled to appear, clergy as well as laity; the most venerable
heads of the senate, as well as the reprobate rabble of the Iconoclasts.
Whoever did not present himself, as indeed scarcely anybody did, was
declared an outlaw, and his property was confiscated; but those who were
rash or foolish enough to appear, or who were so unfortunate as to be
seized, were lost without redemption.  Twenty, forty, often fifty were
summoned at the same time and from the same town, and the richest were
always the first on whom the thunderbolt descended.  The meaner
citizens, who possessed nothing that could render their country and
their homes dear to them, were taken unawares and arrested without any
previous citation.  Many eminent merchants, who had at their disposal
fortunes of from sixty thousand to one hundred thousand florins, were
seen with their hands tied behind their backs, dragged like common
vagabonds at the horse's tail to execution, and in Valenciennes fifty-
five persons were decapitated at one time.  All the prisons--and the
duke immediately on commencing his administration had built a great
number of them--were crammed full with the accused; hanging, beheading,
quartering, burning were the prevailing and ordinary occupations of the
day; the punishment of the galleys and banishment were more rarely heard
of, for there was scarcely any offence which was reckoned too trival to
be punished with death.  Immense sums were thus brought into the
treasury, which, however, served rather to stimulate the new viceroy's
and his colleagues' thirst for gold than to quench it.  It seemed to be
his insane purpose to make beggars of the whole people, and to throw all
their riches into the hands of the king and his servants.  The yearly
income derived from these confiscations was computed to equal the
revenues of the first kingdoms of Europe; it is said to have been
estimated, in a report furnished to the king, at the incredible amount
of twenty million of dollars.  But these proceedings were the more
inhuman, as they often bore hardest precisely upon the very persons who
were the most peaceful subjects, and most orthodox Roman Catholics, whom
they could not want to injure.  Whenever an estate was confiscated all
the creditors who had claims upon it were defrauded.  The hospitals,
too, and public institutions, which such properties had contributed to
support, were now ruined, and the poor, who had formerly drawn a
pittance from this source, were compelled to see their only spring of
comfort dried up.  Whoever ventured to urge their well-grounded claims
on the forfeited property before the council of twelve (for no other
tribunal dared to interfere with these inquiries), consumed their
substance in tedious and expensive proceedings, and were reduced to
beggary before they saw the end of them.  The histories of civilized
states furnish but one instance of a similar perversion of justice, of
such violation of the rights of property, and of such waste of human
life; but Cinna, Sylla, and Marius entered vanquished Rome as incensed
victors, and practised without disguise what the viceroy of the
Netherlands performed under the venerable veil of the laws.

Up to the end of the year 1567 the king's arrival had been confidently
expected, and the well-disposed of the people had placed all their last
hopes on this event.  The vessels, which Philip had caused to be
equipped expressly for the purpose of meeting him, still lay in the
harbor of Flushing, ready to sail at the first signal; and the town of
Brussels had consented to receive a Spanish garrison, simply because the
king, it was pretended, was to reside within its walls.  But this hope
gradually vanished, as he put off the journey from one season to the
next, and the new viceroy very soon began to exhibit powers which
announced him less as a precursor of royalty than as an absolute
minister, whose presence made that of the monarch entirely superfluous.
To compete the distress of the provinces their last good angel was now
to leave them in the person of the regent. From the moment when the
production of the duke's extensive powers left no doubt remaining as to
the practical termination of her own rule, Margaret had formed the
resolution of relinquishing the name also of regent. To see a successor
in the actual possession of a dignity which a nine years' enjoyment had
made indispensable to her; to see the authority, the glory, the
splendor, the adoration, and all the marks of respect, which are the
usual concomitants of supreme power, pass over to another; and to feel
that she had lost that which she could never forget she had once held,
was more than a woman's mind could endure; moreover, the Duke of Alva
was of all men the least calculated to make her feel her privation the
less painful by a forbearing use of his newly-acquired dignity.  The
tranquillity of the country, too, which was put in jeopardy by this
divided rule, seemed to impose upon the duchess the necessity of
abdicating.  Many governors of provinces refused, without an express
order from the court, to receive commands from the duke and to recognize
him as co-regent.

The rapid change of their point of attraction could not be met by the
courtiers so composedly and imperturbably but that the duchess observed
the alteration, and bitterly felt it.  Even the few who, like State
Counsellor Viglius, still firmly adhered to her, did so less from
attachment to her person than from vexation at being displaced by
novices and foreigners, and from being too proud to serve a fresh
apprenticeship under a new viceroy.  But far the greater number, with
all their endeavors to keep an exact mean, could not help making a
difference between the homage they paid to the rising sun and that which
they bestowed on the setting luminary.  The royal palace in Brussels
became more and more deserted, while the throng at Kuilemberg house
daily increased.  But what wounded the sensitiveness of the duchess most
acutely was the arrest of Horn and Egmont, which was planned and
executed by the duke without her knowledge or consent, just as if there
had been no such person as herself in existence.  Alva did, indeed,
after the act was done, endeavor to appease her by declaring that the
design had been purposely kept secret from her in order to spare her
name from being mixed up in so odious a transaction; but no such
considerations of delicacy could close the wound which had been
inflicted on her pride.  In order at once to escape all risk of similar
insults, of which the present was probably only a forerunner, she
despatched her private secretary, Macchiavell, to the court of her
brother, there to solicit earnestly for permission to resign the
regency.  The request was granted without difficulty by the king, who
accompanied his consent with every mark of his highest esteem.  He would
put aside (so the king expressed himself) his own advantage and that of
the provinces in order to oblige his sister.  He sent a present of
thirty thousand dollars, and allotted to her a yearly pension of twenty
thousand.

     [Which, however, does not appear to have been very punctually paid,
     if a pamphlet maybe trusted which was printed during her lifetime.
     (It bears the title: Discours sur la Blessure de Monseigneur Prince
     d'Orange, 1582, without notice of the place where it was printed,
     and is to be found in the Elector's library at Dresden.) She
     languished, it is there stated, at Namur in poverty, and so ill-
     supported by her son (the then governor of the Netherlands), that
     her own secretary, Aldrobandin, called her sojourn there an exile.
     But the writer goes on to ask what better treatment could she
     expect from a son who, when still very young, being on a visit to
     her at Brussels, snapped his fingers at her behind her back.]

At the same time a diploma was forwarded to the Duke of Alva,
constituting him, in her stead, viceroy of all the Netherlands, with
unlimited powers.

Gladly would Margaret have learned that she was permitted to resign the
regency before a solemn assembly of the states, a wish which she had not
very obscurely hinted to the king.  But she was not gratified.  She was
particularly fond of solemnity, and the example of the Emperor, her
father, who had exhibited the extraordinary spectacle of his abdication
of the crown in this very city, seemed to have great attractions for
her.  As she was compelled to part with supreme power, she could
scarcely be blamed for wishing to do so with as much splendor as
possible.  Moreover, she had not failed to observe how much the general
hatred of the duke had effected in her own favor, and she looked,
therefore, the more wistfully forward to a scene, which promised to be
at once so flattering to her and so affecting.  She would have been glad
to mingle her own tears with those which she hoped to see shed by the
Netherlanders for their good regent.  Thus the bitterness of her descent
from the throne would have been alleviated by the expression of general
sympathy.  Little as she had done to merit the general esteem during the
nine years of her administration, while fortune smiled upon her, and the
approbation of her sovereign was the limit to all her wishes, yet now
the sympathy of the nation had acquired a value in her eyes as the only
thing which could in some degree compensate to her for the
disappointment of all her other hopes.  Fain would she have persuaded
herself that she had become a voluntary sacrifice to her goodness of
heart and her too humane feelings towards the Netherlanders.  As,
however, the king was very far from being disposed to incur any danger
by calling a general assembly of the states, in order to gratify a mere
caprice of his sister, she was obliged to content herself with a
farewell letter to them.  In this document she went over her whole
administration, recounted, not without ostentation, the difficulties
with which she had had to struggle, the evils which, by her dexterity,
she had prevented, and wound up at last by saying that she left a
finished work, and had to transfer to her successor nothing but the
punishment of offenders.  The king, too, was repeatly compelled to hear
the same statement, and she left nothing undone to arrogate to herself
the glory of any future advantages which it might be the good fortune of
the duke to realize.  Her own merits, as something which did not admit
of a doubt, but was at the same time a burden oppressive to her modesty,
she laid at the feet of the king.

Dispassionate posterity may, nevertheless; hesitate to subscribe
unreservedly to this favorable opinion.  Even though the united voice of
her contemporaries, and the testimony of the Netherlands themselves
vouch for it, a third party will not be denied the right to examine her
claims with stricter scrutiny.  The popular mind, easily affected, is
but too ready to count the absence of a vice as an additional virtue,
and, under the pressure of existing evil, to give excess of praise for
past benefits.