There was but one voice as to the choice of an envoy. Of all the
Flemish nobles Count Egmont was the only one whose appointment would
give equal satisfaction to both parties. His hatred of the Inquisition,
his patriotic and liberal sentiments, and the unblemished integrity of
his character, gave to the republic sufficient surety for his conduct,
while for the reasons already mentioned he could not fail to be welcome
to the king. Moreover, Egmont's personal figure and demeanor were
calculated on his first appearance to make that favorable impression
which goes co far towards winning the hearts of princes; and his
engaging carriage would come to the aid of his eloquence, and enforce
his petition with those persuasive arts which are indispensable to the
success of even the most trifling suits to royalty. Egmont himself,
too, wished for the embassy, as it would afford him the opportunity of
adjusting, personally, matters with his sovereign.

About this time the Council, or rather synod, of Trent closed its
sittings, and published its decrees to the whole of Christendom. But
these canons, far from accomplishing the object for which the synod was
originally convened, and satisfying the expectation of religious
parties, had rather widened the breach between them, and made the schism
irremediable and eternal.

The labors of the synod instead of purifying the Romish Church from its
corruptions had only reduced the latter to greater definiteness and
precision, and invested them with the sanction of authority. All the
subtilties of its teaching, all the arts and usurpations of the Roman
See, which had hitherto rested more on arbitrary usage, were now passed
into laws and raised into a system. The uses and abuses which during
the barbarous times of ignorance and superstition had crept into
Christianity were now declared essential parts of its worship, and
anathemas were denounced upon all who should dare to contradict the
dogmas or neglect the observances of the Romish communion. All were
anathematized who should either presume to doubt the miraculous power of
relics, and refuse to honor the bones of martyrs, or should be so bold
as to doubt the availing efficacy of the intercession of saints. The
power of granting indulgences, the first source of the defection from
the See of Rome, was now propounded in an irrefragable article of faith;
and the principle of monasticism sanctioned by an express decree of the
synod, which allowed males to take the vows at sixteen and females at
twelve. And while all the opinions of the Protestants were, without
exception, condemned, no indulgence was shown to their errors or
weaknesses, nor a single step taken to win them back by mildness to the
bosom of the mother church. Amongst the Protestants the wearisome
records of the subtle deliberations of the synod, and the absurdity of
its decisions, increased, if possible, the hearty contempt which they
had long entertained for popery, and laid open to their
controversialists new and hitherto unnoticed points of attack. It was
an ill-judged step to bring the mysteries of the church too close to the
glaring torch of reason, and to fight with syllogisms for the tenets of
a blind belief.

Moreover, the decrees of the Council of Trent were not satisfactory even
to all the powers in communion with Rome. France rejected them
entirely, both because she did not wish to displease the Huguenots, and
also because she was offended by the supremacy which the pope arrogated
to himself over the council; some of the Roman Catholic princes of
Germany likewise declared against it. Little, however, as Philip II.
was pleased with many of its articles, which trenched too closely upon
his own rights, for no monarch was ever more jealous of his prerogative;
highly as the pope's assumption of control over the council, and its
arbitrary, precipitate dissolution had offended him; just as was his
indignation at the slight which the pope had put upon his ambassador; he
nevertheless acknowledged the decrees of the synod, even in its present
form, because it favored his darling object--the extirpation of heresy.
Political considerations were all postponed to this one religious
object, and he commanded the publication and enforcement of its canons
throughout his dominions.

The spirit of revolt, which was diffused through the Belgian provinces,
scarcely required this new stimulus. There the minds of men were in a
ferment, and the character of the Romish Church had sunk almost to the
lowest point of contempt in the general opinion. Under such
circumstances the imperious and frequently injudicious decrees of the
council could not fail of being highly offensive; but Philip II. could
not belie his religious character so far as to allow a different
religion to a portion of his subjects, even though they might live on a
different soil and under different laws from the rest. The regent was
strictly enjoined to exact in the Netherlands the same obedience to the
decrees of Trent which was yielded to them in Spain and Italy.

They met, however, with the warmest opposition in the council of state
at Brussels. "The nation," William of Orange declared, "neither would
nor could acknowledge them, since they were, for the most part, opposed
to the fundamental principles of their constitution; and, for similar
reasons, they had even been rejected by several Roman Catholic princes."
The whole council nearly was on the side of Orange; a decided majority
were for entreating the king either to recall the decrees entirely or at
least to publish them under certain limitations. This proposition was
resisted by Viglius, who insisted on a strict and literal obedience to
the royal commands. "The church," he said, "had in all ages maintained
the purity of its doctrines and the strictness of its discipline by
means of such general councils. No more efficacious remedy could be
opposed to the errors of opinion which had so long distracted their
country than these very decrees, the rejection of which is now urged by
the council of state. Even if they are occasionally at variance with
the constitutional rights of the citizens this is an evil which can
easily be met by a judicious and temperate application of them. For the
rest it redounds to the honor of our sovereign, the King of Spain, that
he alone, of all the princes of his time, refuses to yield his better
judgment to necessity, and will not, for any fear of consequences,
reject measures which the welfare of the church demands, and which the
happiness of his subjects makes a duty."

But the decrees also contained several matters which affected the rights
of the crown itself. Occasion was therefore taken of this fact to
propose that these sections at least should be omitted from the
proclamation. By this means the king might, it was argued, be relieved
from these obnoxious and degrading articles by a happy expedient; the
national liberties of the Netherlands might be advanced as the pretext
for the omission, and the name of the republic lent to cover this
encroachment on the authority of the synod. But the king had caused
the decrees to be received and enforced in his other dominions
unconditionally; and it was not to be expected that he would give the
other Roman Catholic powers such an example of opposition, and himself
undermine the edifice whose foundation he had been so assiduous in
laying.




             COUNT EGMONT IN SPAIN.

Count Egmont was despatched to Spain to make a forcible representation
to the king on the subject of these decrees; to persuade him, if
possible, to adopt a milder policy towards his Protestant subjects, and
to propose to him the incorporation of the three councils, was the
commission he received from the malcontents. By the regent he was
charged to apprise the monarch of the refractory spirit of the people;
to convince him of the impossibility of enforcing these edicts of
religion in their full severity; and lastly to acquaint him with the bad
state of the military defences and the exhausted condition of the
exchequer.

The count's public instructions were drawn up by the President Viglius.
They contained heavy complaints of the decay of justice, the growth of
heresy, and the exhaustion of the treasury. He was also to press
urgently a personal visit from the king to the Netherlands. The rest
was left to the eloquence of the envoy, who received a hint from the
regent not to let so fair an opportunity escape of establishing himself
in the favor of his sovereign.

The terms in which the count's instructions and the representations
which he was to make to the king were drawn up appeared to the Prince of
Orange far too vague and general. "The president's statement," he said,
"of our grievances comes very far short of the truth. How can the king
apply the suitable remedies if we conceal from him the full extent of
the evil? Let us not represent the numbers of the heretics inferior to
what it is in reality. Let us candidly acknowledge that they swarm in
every province and in every hamlet, however small. Neither let us
disguise from him the truth that they despise the penal statutes and
entertain but little reverence for the government. What good can come
of this concealment? Let us rather openly avow to the king that the
republic cannot long continue in its present condition. The privy
council indeed will perhaps pronounce differently, for to them the
existing disorders are welcome. For what else is the source of the
abuse of justice and the universal corruption of the courts of law but
its insatiable rapacity? How otherwise can the pomp and scandalous
luxury of its members, whom we have seen rise from the dust, be
supported if not by bribery? Do not the people daily complain that no
other key but gold can open an access to them; and do not even their
quarrels prove how little they are swayed by a care for the common weal?
Are they likely to consult the public good who are the slaves of their
private passions? Do they think forsooth that we, the governors of the
provinces are, with our soldiers, to stand ready at the beck and call of
an infamous lictor? Let them set bounds to their indulgences and free
pardons which they so lavishly bestow on the very persons to whom we
think it just and expedient to deny them. No one can remit the
punishment of a crime without sinning against the society and
contributing to the increase of the general evil. To my mind, and I
have no hesitation to avow it, the distribution amongst so many councils
of the state secrets and the affairs of government has always appeared
highly objectionable. The council of state is sufficient for all the
duties of the administration; several patriots have already felt this in
silence, and I now openly declare it. It is my decided conviction that
the only sufficient remedy for all the evils complained of is to merge
the other two chambers in the council of state. This is the point which
we must endeavor to obtain from the king, or the present embassy, like
all others, will be entirely useless and ineffectual." The prince now
laid before the assembled senate the plan which we have already
described. Viglius, against whom this new proposition was individually
and mainly directed, and whose eyes were now suddenly opened, was
overcome by the violence of his vexation. The agitation of his feelings
was too much for his feeble body, and he was found, on the following
morning, paralyzed by apoplexy, and in danger of his life.

His place was supplied by Jaachim Hopper, a member of the privy council
at Brussels, a man of old-fashioned morals and unblemished integrity,
the president's most trusted and worthiest friend.


   [Vita Vigl. 89. The person from whose memoirs I have already drawn
   so many illustrations of the times of this epoch. His subsequent
   journey to Spain gave rise to the correspondence between him and
   the president, which is one of the most valuable documents for our
   history.]

To meet the wishes of the Orange party he made some additions to the
instructions of the ambassador, relating chiefly to the abolition of the
Inquisition and the incorporation of the three councils, not so much
with the consent of the regent as in the absence of her prohibition.
Upon Count Egmont taking leave of the president, who had recovered from
his attack, the latter requested him to procure in Spain permission to
resign his appointment. His day, he declared, was past; like the
example of his friend and predecessor, Granvella, he wished to retire
into the quiet of private life, and to anticipate the uncertainty of
fortune. His genius warned him of impending storm, by which he could
have no desire to be overtaken.

Count Egmont embarked on his journey to Spain in January, 1565, and was
received there with a kindness and respect which none of his rank had
ever before experienced. The nobles of Castile, taught by the king's
example to conquer their feelings, or rather, true to his policy, seemed
to have laid aside their ancient grudge against the Flemish nobility,
and vied with one another in winning his heart by their affability. All
his private matters were immediately settled to his wishes by the king,
nay, even his expectations exceeded; and during the whole period of his
stay he had ample cause to boast of the hospitality of the monarch. The
latter assured him in the strongest terms of his love for his Belgian
subjects, and held out hopes of his acceding eventually to the general
wish, and remitting somewhat of the severity of the religious edicts.
At the same time, however, he appointed in Madrid a commission of
theologians to whom he propounded the question, "Is it necessary to
grant to the provinces the religious toleration they demand?" As the
majority of them were of opinion that the peculiar constitution of the
Netherlands, and the fear of a rebellion might well excuse a degree of
forbearance in their case, the question was repeated more pointedly.
"He did not seek to know," he said, "if he might do so, but if he must."
When the latter question was answered in the negative, he rose from his
seat, and kneeling down before a crucifix prayed in these words:
"Almighty Majesty, suffer me not at any time to fall so low as to
consent to reign over those who reject thee!" In perfect accordance
with the spirit of this prayer were the measures which he resolved to
adopt in the Netherlands. On the article of religion this monarch had
taken his resolution once forever; urgent necessity might, perhaps, have
constrained him temporarily to suspend the execution of the penal
statutes, but never, formally, to repeal them entirely, or even to
modify them. In vain did Egmont represent to him that the public
execution of the heretics daily augmented the number of their followers,
while the courage and even joy with which they met their death filled
the spectators with the deepest admiration, and awakened in them high
opinions of a doctrine which could make such heroes of its disciples.
This representation was not indeed lost upon the king, but it had a very
different effect from what it was intended to produce. In order to
prevent these seductive scenes, without, however, compromising the
severity of the edicts, he fell upon an expedient, and ordered that in
future the executions should take place in private. The answer of the
king on the subject of the embassy was given to the count in writing,
and addressed to the regent. The king, when he granted him an audience
to take leave, did not omit to call him to account for his behavior to
Granvella, and alluded particularly to the livery invented in derision
of the cardinal. Egmont protested that the whole affair had originated
in a convivial joke, and nothing was further from their meaning than to
derogate in the least from the respect that was due to royalty. "If he
knew," he said, "that any individual among them had entertained such
disloyal thoughts be himself would challenge him to answer for it with
his life."

At his departure the monarch made him a present of fifty thousand
florins, and engaged, moreover, to furnish a portion for his daughter on
her marriage. He also consigned to his care the young Farnese of Parma,
whom, to gratify the regent, his mother, he was sending to Brussels.
The king's pretended mildness, and his professions of regard for the
Belgian nation, deceived the open-hearted Fleming. Happy in the idea of
being the bearer of so much felicity to his native country, when in fact
it was more remote than ever, he quitted Madrid satisfied beyond measure
to think of the joy with which the provinces would welcome the message
of their good king; but the opening of the royal answer in the council
of state at Brussels disappointed all these pleasing hopes. "Although
in regard to the religious edicts," this was its tenor, "his resolve was
firm and immovable, and he would rather lose a thousand lives than
consent to alter a single letter of it, still, moved by the
representations of Count Egmont, he was, on the other hand, equally
determined not to leave any gentle means untried to guard the people
against the delusions of heresy, and so to avert from them that
punishment which must otherwise infallibly overtake them. As he had now
learned from the count that the principal source of the existing errors
in the faith was in the moral depravity of the clergy, the bad
instruction and the neglected education of the young, he hereby
empowered the regent to appoint a special commission of three bishops,
and a convenient number of learned theologians, whose business it should
be to consult about the necessary reforms, in order that the people
might no longer be led astray through scandal, nor plunge into error
through ignorance. As, moreover, he had been informed that the public
executions of the heretics did but afford them an opportunity of
boastfully displaying a foolhardy courage, and of deluding the common
herd by an affectation of the glory of martyrdom, the commission was to
devise means for putting in force the final sentence of the Inquisition
with greater privacy, and thereby depriving condemned heretics of the
honor of their obduracy." In order, however, to provide against the
commission going beyond its prescribed limits Philip expressly required
that the Bishop of Ypres, a man whom he could rely on as a determined
zealot for the Romish faith, should be one of the body. Their
deliberaations were to be conducted, if possible, in secrecy, while the
object publicly assigned to them should be the introduction of the
Tridentine decrees. For this his motive seems to have been twofold; on
the one hand, not to alarm the court of Rome by the assembling of a
private council; nor, on the other, to afford any encouragement to the
spirit of rebellion in the provinces. At its sessions the duchess was
to preside, assisted by some of the more loyally disposed of her
counsellors, and regularly transmit to Philip a written account of its
transactions. To meet her most pressing wants he sent her a small
supply in money. He also gave her hopes of a visit from himself; first,
however, it was necessary that the war with the Turks, who were then
expected in hostile force before Malta, should be terminated. As to the
proposed augmentation of the council of state, and its union with the
privy council and chamber of finance, it was passed over in perfect
silence. The Duke of Arschot, however, who is already known to us as a
zealous royalist, obtained a voice and seat in the latter. Viglius,
indeed, was allowed to retire from the presidency of the privy council,
but he was obliged, nevertheless, to continue to discharge its duties
for four more years, because his successor, Carl Tyssenaque, of the
council for Netherlandish affairs in Madrid, could not sooner be spared.




   SEVERER RELIGIOUS EDICTS--UNIVERSAL OPPOSITION OF THE NATION.

Scarcely was Egmont returned when severer edicts against heretics,
which, as it were, pursued him from Spain, contradicted the joyful
tidings which he had brought of a happy change in the sentiments of the
monarch. They were at the same time accompanied with a transcript of
the decrees of Trent, as they were acknowledged in Spain, and were now
to be proclaimed in the Netherlands also; with it came likewise the
death warrants of some Anabaptists and other kinds of heretics.
"The count has been beguiled," William the Silent was now heard to say,
"and deluded by Spanish cunning. Self-love and vanity have blinded his
penetration; for his own advantage he has forgotten the general
welfare." The treachery of the Spanish ministry was now exposed, and
this dishonest proceeding roused the indignation of the noblest in the
land. But no one felt it more acutely than Count Egmont, who now
perceived himself to have been the tool of Spanish duplicity, and to
have become unwittingly the betrayer of his own country. "These
specious favors then," he exclaimed, loudly and bitterly, "were nothing
but an artifice to expose me to the ridicule of my fellow-citizens, and
to destroy my good name. If this is the fashion after which the king
purposes to keep the promises which he made to me in Spain, let who will
take Flanders; for my part, I will prove by my retirement from public
business that I have no share in this breach of faith." In fact, the
Spanish ministry could not have adopted a surer method of breaking the
credit of so important a man--than by exhibiting him to his fellow
citizens, who adored him, as one whom they had succeeded in deluding.

Meanwhile the commission had been appointed, and had unanimously come
to the following decision: "Whether for the moral reformation of the
clergy, or for the religious instruction of the people, or for the
education of youth, such abundant provision had already been made in the
decrees of Trent that nothing now was requisite but to put these decrees
in force as speedily as possible. The imperial edicts against the
heretics already ought on no account to be recalled or modified; the
courts of justice, however, might be secretly instructed to punish with
death none but obstinate heretics or preachers, to make a difference
between the different sects, and to show consideration to the age, rank,
sex, or disposition of the accused. If it were really the case that
public executions did but inflame fanaticism, then, perhaps, the
unheroic, less observed, but still equally severe punishment of the
galleys, would be well-adapted to bring down all high notions of
martyrdom. As to the delinquencies which might have arisen out of mere
levity, curiosity, and thoughtlessness it would perhaps be sufficient to
punish them by fines, exile, or even corporal chastisement."

During these deliberations, which, moreover, it was requisite to submit
to the king at Madrid, and to wait for the notification of his approval
of them, the time passed away unprofitably, the proceedings against the
sectaries being either suspended, or at least conducted very supinely.
Since the recall of Granvella the disunion which prevailed in the higher
councils, and from thence had extended to the provincial courts of
justice, combined with the mild feelings generally of the nobles on the
subject of religion, had raised the courage of the sects, and allowed
free scope to the proselytizing mania of their apostles. The
inquisitors, too, had fallen into contempt in consequence of the secular
arm withdrawing its support, and in many places even openly taking their
victims under its protection. The Roman Catholic part of the nation.
had formed great expectations from the decrees of the synod of Trent, as
well as from Egmont's embassy to Spain; but in the latter case their
hopes had scarcely been justified by the joyous tidings which the count
had brought back, and, in the integrity of his heart, left nothing
undone to make known as widely as possible. The more disused the nation
had become to severity in matters pertaining to religion the more
acutely was it likely to feel the sudden adoption of even still more
rigorous measures. In this position of affairs the royal rescript
arrived from Spain in answer to the proposition of the bishops and the
last despatches of the regent. "Whatever interpretation (such was its
tenor) Count Egmont may have given to the king's verbal communications,
it had never in the remotest manner entered his mind to think of
altering in the slightest degree the penal statutes which the Emperor,
his father, had five-and-thirty years ago published in the provinces.
These edicts he therefore commanded should henceforth be carried rigidly
into effect, the Inquisition should receive the most active support from
the secular arm, and the decrees of the council of Trent be irrevocably
and unconditionally acknowledged in all the provinces of his
Netherlands. He acquiesced fully in the opinion of the bishops and
canonists as to the sufficiency of the Tridentine decrees as guides in
all points of reformation of the clergy or instruction of the people;
but he could not concur with them as to the mitigation of punishment
which they proposed in consideration either of the age, sex, or
character of individuals, since he was of opinion that his edicts were
in no degree wanting in moderation. To nothing but want of zeal and
disloyalty on the part of judges could he ascribe the progress which
heresy had already made in the country. In future, therefore, whoever
among them should be thus wanting in zeal must be removed from his
office and make room for a more honest judge. The Inquisition ought to
pursue its appointed path firmly, fearlessly, and dispassionately,
without regard to or consideration of human feelings, and was to look
neither before nor behind. He would always be ready to approve of all
its measures however extreme if it only avoided public scandal."

This letter of the king, to which the Orange party have ascribed all
the subsequent troubles of the Netherlands, caused the most violent
excitement amongst the state counsellors, and the expressions which in
society they either accidentally or intentionally let fall from them
with regard to it spread terror and alarm amongst the people. The dread
of the Spanish Inquisition returned with new force, and with it came
fresh apprehensions of the subversion of their liberties. Already the
people fancied they could hear prisons building, chains and fetters
forging, and see piles of fagots collecting. Society was occupied with
this one theme of conversation, and fear kept no longer within bounds.
Placards were affixed to houses of the nobles in which they were called
upon, as formerly Rome called on her Brutus, to come forward and save
expiring freedom. Biting pasquinades were published against the new
bishops--tormentors as they were called; the clergy were ridiculed in
comedies, and abuse spared the throne as little as the Romish see.

Terrified by the rumors which were afloat, the regent called together
all the counsellors of state to consult them on the course she ought to
adopt in this perilous crisis. Opinion varied and disputes were
violent. Undecided between fear and duty they hesitated to come to a
conclusion, until at last the aged senator, Viglius, rose and surprised
the whole assembly by his opinion. "It would," he said, "be the height
of folly in us to think of promulgating the royal edict at the present
moment; the king must be informed of the reception which, in all
probability, it will now meet. In the meantime the inquisitors must
be enjoined to use their power with moderation, and to abstain from
severity." But if these words of the aged president surprised the whole
assembly, still greater was the astonishment when the Prince of Orange
stood up and opposed his advice. "The royal will," he said, "is too
clearly and too precisely stated; it is the result of too long and too
mature deliberation for us to venture to delay its execution without
bringing on ourselves the reproach of the most culpable obstinacy."
"That I take on myself," interrupted Viglius; "I oppose myself to, his
displeasure. If by this delay we purchase for him the peace of the
Netherlands our opposition will eventually secure for us the lasting
gratitude of the king." The regent already began to incline to the
advice of Viglius, when the prince vehemently interposing, "What," he
demanded," what have the many representations which we have already made
effected? of what avail was the embassy we so lately despatched?
Nothing! And what then do we wait for more? Shall we, his state
counsellors, bring upon ourselves the whole weight of his displeasure by
determining, at our own peril, to render him a service for which he will
never thank us?" Undecided and uncertain the whole assembly remained
silent; but no one had courage enough to assent to or reply to him. But
the prince had appealed to the fears of the regent, and these left her
no choice. The consequences of her unfortunate obedience to the king's
command will soon appear. But, on the other hand, if by a wise
disobedience she had avoided these fatal consequences, is it clear that
the result would not have been the same? However she had adopted the
most fatal of the two counsels: happen what would the royal ordinance
was to be promulgated. This time, therefore, faction prevailed, and the
advice of the only true friend of the government, who, to serve his
monarch, was ready to incur his displeasure, was disregarded. With this
session terminated the peace of the regent: from this day the
Netherlands dated all the trouble which uninterruptedly visited their
country. As the counsellors separated the Prince of Orange said to one
who stood nearest to him, "Now will soon be acted a great tragedy."

   [The conduct of the Prince of Orange in this meeting of the council
   has been appealed to by historians of the Spanish party as a proof
   of his dishonesty, and they have availed themselves over and over
   again to blacken his character. "He," say they, "who had,
   invariably up to this period, both by word and deed, opposed the
   measures of the court so long as he had any ground to fear that the
   king's measures could be successfully carried out, supported them
   now for the first time when he was convinced that a scrupulous
   obedience to the royal orders would inevitably prejudice him. In
   order to convince the king of his folly in disregarding his
   warnings; in order to be able to boast, 'this I foresaw,' and 'I
   foretold that,' he was willing to risk the welfare of his nation,
   for which alone he had hitherto professed to struggle. The whole
   tenor of his previous conduct proved that he held the enforcement
   of the edicts to be an evil; nevertheless, he at once becomes false
   to his own convictions and follows an opposite course; although, so
   far as the nation was concerned, the same grounds existed as had
   dictated his former measures; and he changed his conduct simply
   that the result might be different to the king." "It is clear,
   therefore," continue his adversaries, "that the welfare of the
   nation had less weight with him than his animosity to his
   sovereign. In order to gratify his hatred to the latter he does
   not hesitate to sacrifice the former." But is it then true that by
   calling for the promulgation of these edicts he sacrificed the
   nation? or, to speak more correctly, did he carry the edicts into
   effect by insisting on their promulgation? Can it not, on the
   contrary, be shown with far more probability that this was really
   the only way effectually to frustrate them? The nation was in a
   ferment, and the indignant people would (there was reason to
   expect, and as Viglius himself seems to have apprehended) show so
   decided a spirit of opposition as must compel the king to yield.
   "Now," says Orange, "my country feels all the impulse necessary for
   it to contend successfully with tyranny! If I neglect the present
   moment the tyrant will, by secret negotiation and intrigue, find
   means to obtain by stealth what by open force he could not. The
   some object will be steadily pursued, only with greater caution and
   forbearance; but extremity alone can combine the people to unity of
   purpose, and move them to bold measures." It is clear, therefore,
   that with regard to the king the prince did but change his language
   only; but that as far as the people was concerned his conduct was
   perfectly consistent. And what duties did he owe the king apart
   from those he owed the republic? Was he to oppose an arbitrary act
   in the very moment when it was about to entail a just retribution
   on its author? Would he have done his duty to his country if he
   had deterred its oppressor from a precipitate step which alone
   could save it from its otherwise unavoidable misery?]

An edict, therefore, was issued to all the governors of provinces,
commanding them rigorously to enforce the mandates of the Emperor
against heretics, as well as those which had been passed under the
present government, the decrees of the council of Trent, and those of
the episcopal commission, which had lately sat to give all the aid of
the civil force to the Inquisition, and also to enjoin a similar line of
conduct on the officers of government under them. More effectually to
secure their object, every governor was to select from his own council
an efficient officer who should frequently make the circuit of the
province and institute strict inquiries into the obedience shown by the
inferior officers to these commands, and then transmit quarterly, to the
capital an exact report of their visitation. A copy of the Tridentine
decrees, according to the Spanish original, was also sent to the
archbishops and bishops, with an intimation that in case of their
needing the assistance of the secular power, the governors of their
diocese, with their troops, were placed at their disposal. Against
these decrees no privilege was to avail; however, the king willed and
commanded that the particular territorial rights of the provinces and
towns should in no case be infringed.

These commands, which were publicly read in every town by a herald,
produced an effect on the people which in the fullest manner verified
the fears of the President Viglius and the hopes of the Prince of
Orange.

Nearly all the governors of provinces refused compliance with them, and
threatened to throw up their appointments if the attempt should be made
to compel their obedience. "The ordinance," they wrote back, "was based
on a statement of the numbers of the sectaries, which was altogether
false."

   [The number of the heretics was very unequally computed by the two
   parties according as the interests and passions of either made its
   increase or diminution desirable, and the same party often
   contradicted itself when its interest changed. If the question
   related to new measures of oppression, to the introduction of the
   inquisitional tribunals, etc., the numbers of the Protestants were
   countless and interminable. If, on the other hand, the question
   was of lenity towards them, of ordinances to their advantage, they
   were now reduced to such an insignificant number that it would not
   repay the trouble of making an innovation for this small body of
   ill-minded people.]

"Justice was appalled at the prodigious crowd of victims which daily
accumulated under its hands; to destroy by the flames fifty thousand or
sixty thousand persons from their districts was no commission for them."
The inferior clergy too, in particular, were loud in their outcries
against the decrees of Trent, which cruelly assailed their ignorance and
corruption, and which moreover threatened them with a reform they so
much detested. Sacrificing, therefore, the highest interests of their
church to their own private advantage, they bitterly reviled the decrees
and the whole council, and with liberal hand scattered the seeds of
revolt in the minds of the people. The same outcry was now revived
which the monks had formerly raised against the new bishops. The
Archbishop of Cambray succeeded at last, but not without great
opposition, in causing the decrees to be proclaimed. It cost more labor
to effect this in Malines and Utrect, where the archbishops were at
strife with their clergy, who, as they were accused, preferred to
involve the whole church in ruin rather than submit to a reformation of
morals.

Of all the provinces Brabant raised its voice the loudest. The states
of this province appealed to their great privilege, which protected
their members from being brought before a foreign court of justice.
They spoke loudly of the oath by which the king had bound himself to
observe all their statutes, and of the conditions under which they alone
had sworn allegiance to him. Louvain, Antwerp, Brussels, and
Herzogenbusch solemnly protested against the decrees, and transmitted
their protests in distinct memorials to the regent. The latter, always
hesitating and wavering, too timid to obey the king, and far more afraid
to disobey him, again summoned her council, again listened to the
arguments for and against the question, and at last again gave her
assent to the opinion which of all others was the most perilous for her
to adopt. A new reference to the king in Spain was proposed; the next
moment it was asserted that so urgent a crisis did not admit of so
dilatory a remedy; it was necessary for the regent to act on her own
responsibility, and either defy the threatening aspect of despair, or to
yield to it by modifying or retracting the royal ordinance. She finally
caused the annals of Brabant to be examined in order to discover if
possible a precedent for the present case in the instructions of the
first inquisitor whom Charles V. had appointed to the province. These
instructions indeed did not exactly correspond with those now given; but
had not the king declared that he introduced no innovation? This was
precedent enough, and it was declared that the new edicts must also be
interpreted in accordance with the old and existing statutes of the
province. This explanation gave indeed no satisfaction to the states
of Brabant, who had loudly demanded the entire abolition of the
inquisition, but it was an encouragement to the other provinces to make
similar protests and an equally bold opposition. Without giving the
duchess time to decide upon their remonstrances they, on their own
authority, ceased to obey the inquisition, and withdrew their aid from
it. The inquisitors, who had so recently been expressly urged to a more
rigid execution of their duties now saw themselves suddenly deserted by
the secular arm, and robbed of all authority, while in answer to their
application for assistance the court could give them only empty
promises. The regent by thus endeavoring to satisfy all parties had
displeased all.

During these negotiations between the court, the councils, and the
states a universal spirit of revolt pervaded the whole nation. Men
began to investigate the rights of the subject, and to scrutinize the
prerogative of kings. "The Netherlanders were not so stupid," many were
heard to say with very little attempt at secrecy, "as not to know right
well what was due from the subject to the sovereign, and from the king
to the subject; and that perhaps means would yet be found to repel force
with force, although at present there might be no appearance of it."
In Antwerp a placard was set up in several places calling upon the town
council to accuse the King of Spain before the supreme court at Spires
of having broken his oath and violated the liberties of the country,
for, Brabant being a portion of the Burgundian circle, was included in
the religious peace of Passau and Augsburg. About this time too the
Calvinists published their confession of faith, and in a preamble
addressed to the king, declared that they, although a hundred thousand
strong, kept themselves nevertheless quiet, and like the rest of his
subjects, contributed to all the taxes of the country; from which it was
evident, they added, that of themselves they entertained no ideas of
insurrection. Bold and incendiary writings were publicly disseminated,
which depicted the Spanish tyranny in the most odious colors, and
reminded the nation of its privileges, and occasionally also of its
powers.

   [The regent mentioned to the king a number (three thousand) of
   these writings. Strada 117. It is remarkable how important a part
   printing, and publicity in general, played in the rebellion of the
   Netherlands. Through this organ one restless spirit spoke to
   millions. Besides the lampoons, which for the most part were
   composed with all the low scurrility and brutality which was the
   distinguishing character of most of the Protestant polemical
   writings of the time, works were occasionally published which
   defended religious liberty in the fullest sense of the word.]

The warlike preparations of Philip against the Porte, as well as those
which, for no intelligible reason, Eric, Duke of Brunswick, about this
time made in the vicinity, contributed to strengthen the general
suspicion that the Inquisition was to be forcibly imposed on the
Netherlands. Many of the most eminent merchants already spoke of
quitting their houses and business to seek in some other part of the
world the liberty of which they were here deprived; others looked about
for a leader, and let fall hints of forcible resistance and of foreign
aid.

That in this distressing position of affairs the regent might be left
entirely without an adviser and without support, she was now deserted by
the only person who was at the present moment indispensable to her, and
who had contributed to plunge her into this embarrassment. "Without
kindling a civil war," wrote to her William of Orange, "it was
absolutely impossible to comply now with the orders of the king.
If, however, obedience was to be insisted upon, he must beg that his
place might be supplied by another who would better answer the
expectations of his majesty, and have more power than he had over the
minds of the nation. The zeal which on every other occasion he had
shown in the service of the crown, would, he hoped, secure his present
proceeding from misconstruction; for, as the case now stood, he had no
alternative between disobeying the king and injuring his country and
himself." From this time forth William of Orange retired from the
council of state to his town of Breda, where in observant but scarcely
inactive repose he watched the course of affairs. Count Horn followed
his example. Egmont, ever vacillating between the republic and the
throne, ever wearying himself in the vain attempt to unite the good
citizen with the obedient subject--Egmont, who was less able than the
rest to dispense with the favor of the monarch, and to whom, therefore,
it was less an object of indifference, could not bring himself to
abandon the bright prospects which were now opening for him at the court
of the regent. The Prince of Orange had, by his superior intellect,
gained an influence over the regent--which great minds cannot fail to
command from inferior spirits. His retirement had opened a void in her
confidence which Count Egmont was now to fill by virtue of that sympathy
which so naturally subsists between timidity, weakness, and good-nature.
As she was as much afraid of exasperating the people by an exclusive
confidence in the adherents to the crown, as she was fearful of
displeasing the king by too close an understanding with the declared
leaders of the faction, a better object for her confidence could now
hardly be presented than this very Count Egmont, of whom it could not be
said that he belonged to either of the two conflicting parties.






                BOOK III.

            CONSPIRACY OF THE NOBLES

1565. Up to this point the general peace had it appears been the
sincere wish of the Prince of Orange, the Counts Egmont and Horn, and
their friends. They had pursued the true interests of their sovereign
as much as the general weal; at least their exertions and their actions
had been as little at variance with the former as with the latter.
Nothing bad as yet occurred to make their motives suspected, or to
manifest in them a rebellious spirit. What they had done they had done
in discharge of their bounden duty as members of a free state, as the
representatives of the nation, as advisers of the king, as men of
integrity and honor. The only weapons they had used to oppose the
encroachments of the court had been remonstrances, modest complaints,
petitions. They had never allowed themselves to be so far carried away
by a just zeal for their good cause as to transgress the limits of
prudence and moderation which on many occasions are so easily
overstepped by party spirit. But all the nobles of the republic did not
now listen to the voice of that prudence; all did not abide within the
bounds of moderation.

While in the council of state the great question was discussed whether
the nation was to be miserable or not, while its sworn deputies summoned
to their assistance all the arguments of reason and of equity, and while
the middle-classes and the people contented themselves with empty
complaints, menaces, and curses, that part of the nation which of all
seemed least called upon, and on whose support least reliance had been
placed, began to take more active measures. We have already described a
class of the nobility whose services and wants Philip at his accession
had not considered it necessary to remember. Of these by far the
greater number had asked for promotion from a much more urgent reason
than a love of the mere honor. Many of them were deeply sunk in debt,
from which by their own resources they could not hope to emancipate
themselves. When then, in filling up appointments, Philip passed them
over he wounded them in a point far more sensitive than their pride.
In these suitors he had by his neglect raised up so many idle spies and
merciless judges of his actions, so many collectors and propagators of
malicious rumor. As their pride did not quit them with their
prosperity, so now, driven by necessity, they trafficked with the sole
capital which they could not alienate--their nobility and the political
influence of their names; and brought into circulation a coin which only
in such a period could have found currency--their protection. With a
self-pride to which they gave the more scope as it was all they could
now call their own, they looked upon themselves as a strong intermediate
power between the sovereign and the citizen, and believed themselves
called upon to hasten to the rescue of the oppressed state, which looked
imploringly to them for succor. This idea was ludicrous only so far as
their self-conceit was concerned in it; the advantages which they
contrived to draw from it were substantial enough. The Protestant
merchants, who held in their hands the chief part of the wealth of the
Netherlands, and who believed they could not at any price purchase too
dearly the undisturbed exercise of their religion, did not fail to make
use of this class of people who stood idle in the market and ready to be
hired. These very men whom at any other time the merchants, in the
pride of riches, would most probably have looked down upon, now appeared
likely to do them good service through their numbers, their courage,
their credit with the populace, their enmity to the government, nay,
through their beggarly pride itself and their despair. On these grounds
they zealously endeavored to form a close union with them, and
diligently fostered the disposition for rebellion, while they also used
every means to keep alive their high opinions of themselves, and, what
was most important, lured their poverty by well-applied pecuniary
assistance and glittering promises. Few of them were so utterly
insignificant as not to possess some influence, if not personally, yet
at least by their relationship with higher and more powerful nobles; and
if united they would be able to raise a formidable voice against the
crown. Many of them had either already joined the new sect or were
secretly inclined to it; and even those who were zealous Roman Catholics
had political or private grounds enough to set them against the decrees
of Trent and the Inquisition. All, in fine, felt the call of vanity
sufficiently powerful not to allow the only moment to escape them in
which they might possibly make some figure in the republic.

But much as might be expected from the co-operation of these men in
a body it would have been futile and ridiculous to build any hopes on
any one of them singly; and the great difficulty was to effect a union
among them. Even to bring them together some unusual occurrence was
necessary, and fortunately such an incident presented itself. The
nuptials of Baron Montigny, one of the Belgian nobles, as also those of
the Prince Alexander of Parma, which took place about this time in
Brussels, assembled in that town a great number of the Belgian nobles.
On this occasion relations met relations; new friendships were formed
and old renewed; and while the distress of the country was the topic of
conversation wine and mirth unlocked lips and hearts, hints were dropped
of union among themselves, and of an alliance with foreign powers.
These accidental meetings soon led to concealed ones, and public
discussions gave rise to secret consultations. Two German barons,
moreover, a Count of Holle and a Count of Schwarzenberg, who at this
time were on a visit to the Netherlands, omitted nothing to awaken
expectations of assistance from their neighbors. Count Louis of Nassau,
too, had also a short time before visited several German courts to
ascertain their sentiments.

   [It was not without cause that the Prince of Orange suddenly
   disappeared from Brussels in order to be present at the election of
   a king of Rome in Frankfort. An assembly of so many German princes
   must have greatly favored a negotiation.]

It has even been asserted that secret emissaries of the Admiral Coligny
were seen at this time in Brabant, but this, however, may be reasonably
doubted.

If ever a political crisis was favorable to an attempt at revolution it
was the present. A woman at the helm of government; the governors of
provinces disaffected themselves and disposed to wink at insubordination
in others; most of the state counsellors quite inefficient; no army to
fall back upon; the few troops there were long since discontented on
account of the outstanding arrears of pay, and already too often
deceived by false promises to be enticed by new; commanded, moreover, by
officers who despised the Inquisition from their hearts, and would have
blushed to draw a sword in its behalf; and, lastly, no money in the
treasury to enlist new troops or to hire foreigners. The court at
Brussels, as well as the three councils, not only divided by internal
dissensions, but in the highest degree--venal and corrupt; the regent
without full powers to act on the spot, and the king at a distance; his
adherents in the provinces few, uncertain, and dispirited; the faction
numerous and powerful; two-thirds of the people irritated against popery
and desirous of a change--such was the unfortunate weakness of the
government, and the more unfortunate still that this weakness was so
well known to its enemies!

In order to unite so many minds in the prosecution of a common object a
leader was still wanting, and a few influential names to give political
weight to their enterprise. The two were supplied by Count Louis of
Nassau and Henry Count Brederode, both members of the most illustrious
houses of the Belgian nobility, who voluntarily placed themselves at the
head of the undertaking. Louis of Nassau, brother of the Prince of
Orange, united many splendid qualities which made him worthy of
appearing on so noble and important a stage. In Geneva, where he
studied, he had imbibed at once a hatred to the hierarchy and a love to
the new religion, and on his return to his native country had not failed
to enlist proselytes to his opinions. The republican bias which his
mind had received in that school kindled in him a bitter hatred of the
Spanish name, which animated his whole conduct and only left him with
his latest breath. Popery and Spanish rule were in his mind identical--
as indeed they were in reality--and the abhorrence which he entertained
for the one helped to strengthen his dislike for the other. Closely as
the brothers agreed in their inclinations and aversions the ways by
which each sought to gratify them were widely dissimilar. Youth and an
ardent temperament did not allow the younger brother to follow the
tortuous course through which the elder wound himself to his object.
A cold, calm circumspection carried the latter slowly but surely to his
aim, and with a pliable subtilty he made all things subserve his
purpose; with a foolhardy impetuosity which overthrew all obstacles,
the other at times compelled success, but oftener accelerated disaster.
For this reason William was a general and Louis never more than an
adventurer; a sure and powerful arm if only it were directed by a wise
head. Louis' pledge once given was good forever; his alliances survived
every vicissitude, for they were mostly formed in the pressing moment of
necessity, and misfortune binds more firmly than thoughtless joy. He
loved his brother as dearly as he did his cause, and for the latter he
died.

Henry of Brederode, Baron of Viane and Burgrave of Utrecht, was
descended from the old Dutch counts who formerly ruled that province as
sovereign princes. So ancient a title endeared him to the people, among
whom the memory of their former lords still survived, and was the more
treasured the less they felt they had gained by the change. This
hereditary splendor increased the self-conceit of a man upon whose
tongue the glory of his ancestors continually hung, and who dwelt the
more on former greatness, even amidst its ruins, the more unpromising
the aspect of his own condition became. Excluded from the honors and
employments to which, in his opinion, his own merits and his noble
ancestry fully entitled him (a squadron of light cavalry being all which
was entrusted to him), he hated the government, and did not scruple
boldly to canvass and to rail at its measures. By these means he won
the hearts of the people. He also favored in secret the evangelical
belief; less, however, as a conviction of his better reason than as an
opposition to the government. With more loquacity than eloquence, and
more audacity than courage, he was brave rather from not believing in
danger than from being superior to it. Louis of Nassau burned for the
cause which he defended, Brederode for the glory of being its defender;
the former was satisfied in acting for his party, the latter
discontented if he did not stand at its head. No one was more fit to
lead off the dance in a rebellion, but it could hardly have a worse
ballet-master. Contemptible as his threatened designs really were, the
illusion of the multitude might have imparted to them weight and terror
if it had occurred to them to set up a pretender in his person. His
claim to the possessions of his ancestors was an empty name; but even a
name was now sufficient for the general disaffection to rally round. A
pamphlet which was at the time disseminated amongst the people openly
called him the heir of Holland; and his engraved portrait, which was
publicly exhibited, bore the boastful inscription:--

        Sum Brederodus ego, Batavae non infima gentis
        Gloria, virtutem non unica pagina claudit.


(1565.) Besides these two, there were others also from among the most
illustrious of the Flemish nobles the young Count Charles of Mansfeld,
a son of that nobleman whom we have found among the most zealous
royalists; the Count Kinlemburg; two Counts of Bergen and of Battenburg;
John of Marnix, Baron of Toulouse; Philip of Marnix, Baron of St.
Aldegonde; with several others who joined the league, which, about the
middle of November, in the year 1565, was formed at the house of Von
Hanimes, king at arms of the Golden Fleece. Here it was that six men
decided the destiny of their country as formerly a few confederates
consummated the liberty of Switzerland, kindled the torch of a forty
years' war, and laid the basis of a freedom which they themselves were
never to enjoy. The objects of the league were set forth in the
following declaration, to which Philip of Marnix was the first to
subscribe his name: "Whereas certain ill-disposed persons, under the
mask of a pious zeal, but in reality under the impulse of avarice and
ambition, have by their evil counsels persuaded our most gracious
sovereign the king to introduce into these countries the abominable
tribunal of the Inquisition, a tribunal diametrically opposed to all
laws, human and divine, and in cruelty far surpassing the barbarous
institutions of heathenism; which raises the inquisitors above every
other power, and debases man to a perpetual bondage, and by its snares
exposes the honest citizen to a constant fear of death, inasmuch as any
one (priest, it may be, or a faithless friend, a Spaniard or a
reprobate), has it in his power at any moment to cause whom he will to
be dragged before that tribunal, to be placed in confinement, condemned,
and executed without the accused ever being allowed to face his accuser,
or to adduce proof of his innocence; we, therefore, the undersigned,
have bound ourselves to watch over the safety of our families, our
estates, and our own persons. To this we hereby pledge ourselves, and
to this end bind ourselves as a sacred fraternity, and vow with a solemn
oath to oppose to the best of our power the introduction of this
tribunal into these countries, whether it be attempted openly or
secretly, and under whatever name it may be disguised. We at the same
time declare that we are far from intending anything unlawful against
the king our sovereign; rather is it our unalterable purpose to support
and defend the royal prerogative, and to maintain peace, and, as far as
lies in our power, to put down all rebellion. In accordance with this
purpose we have sworn, and now again swear, to hold sacred the
government, and to respect it both in word and deed, which witness
Almighty God!

"Further, we vow and swear to protect and defend one another, in all
times and places, against all attacks whatsoever touching the articles
which are set forth in this covenant. We hereby bind ourselves that no
accusation of any of our followers, in whatever name it may be clothed,
whether rebellion, sedition, or otherwise, shall avail to annul our oath
towards the accused, or absolve us from our obligation towards him. No
act which is directed against the Inquisition can deserve the name of a
rebellion. Whoever, therefore, shall be placed in arrest on any such
charge, we here pledge ourselves to assist him to the utmost of our
ability, and to endeavor by every allowable means to effect his
liberation. In this, however, as in all matters, but especially in the
conduct of all measures against the tribunal of the Inquisition, we
submit ourselves to the general regulations of the league, or to the
decision of those whom we may unanimously appoint our counsellors and
leaders.

"In witness hereof, and in confirmation of this our common league and
covenant, we call upon the holy name of the living God, maker of heaven
and earth, and of all that are therein, who searches the hearts, the
consciences, and the thoughts, and knows the purity of ours. We implore
the aid of the Holy Spirit, that success and honor may crown our
undertaking, to the glory of His name, and to the peace and blessing of
our country!"

This covenant was immediately translated into several languages, and
quickly disseminated through the provinces. To swell the league as
speedily as possible each of the confederates assembled all his friends,
relations, adherents, and retainers. Great banquets were held, which
lasted whole days--irresistible temptations for a sensual, luxurious
people, in whom the deepest wretchedness could not stifle the propensity
for voluptuous living. Whoever repaired to these banquets--and every
one was welcome--was plied with officious assurances of friendship, and,
when heated with wine, carried away by the example of numbers, and
overcome by the fire of a wild eloquence. The hands of many were guided
while they subscribed their signatures; the hesitating were derided, the
pusillanimous threatened, the scruples of loyalty clamored down; some
even were quite ignorant what they were signing, and were ashamed
afterwards to inquire. To many whom mere levity brought to the
entertainment the general enthusiasm left no choice, while the splendor
of the confederacy allured the mean, and its numbers encouraged the
timorous. The abettors of the league had not scrupled at the artifice
of counterfeiting the signature and seals of the Prince of Orange,
Counts Egmont, Horn, Mcgen, and others, a trick which won them hundreds
of adherents. This was done especially with a view of influencing the
officers of the army, in order to be safe in this quarter, if matters
should come at last to violence. The device succeeded with many,
especially with subalterns, and Count Brederode even drew his sword upon
an ensign who wished time for consideration. Men of all classes and
conditions signed it. Religion made no difference. Roman Catholic
priests even were associates of the league. The motives were not the
same with all, but the pretext was similar. The Roman Catholics desired
simply the abolition of the Inquisition, and a mitigation of the edicts;
the Protestants aimed at unlimited freedom of conscience. A few daring
spirits only entertained so bold a project as the overthrow of the
present government, while the needy and indigent based the vilest hopes
on a general anarchy. A farewell entertainment, which about this time
was given to the Counts Schwarzenberg and Holle in Breda, and another
shortly afterwards in Hogstraten, drew many of the principal nobility to
these two places, and of these several had already signed the covenant.
The Prince of Orange, Counts Egmont, Horn, and Megen were present at the
latter banquet, but without any concert or design, and without having
themselves any share in the league, although one of Egmont's own
secretaries and some of the servants of the other three noblemen had
openly joined it. At this entertainment three hundred persons gave in
their adhesion to the covenant, and the question was mooted whether the
whole body should present themselves before the regent armed or unarmed,
with a declaration or with a petition? Horn and Orange (Egmont would
not countenance the business in any way) were called in as arbiters upon
this point, and they decided in favor of the more moderate and
submissive procedure. By taking this office upon them they exposed
themselves to the charge of having in no very covert manner lent their
sanction to the enterprise of the confederates. In compliance,
therefore, with their advice, it was determined to present their address
unarmed, and in the form of a petition, and a day was appointed on which
they should assemble in Brussels.

The first intimation the regent received of this conspiracy of the
nobles was given by the Count of Megen soon after his return to the
capital. "There was," he said, "an enterprise on foot; no less than
three hundred of the nobles were implicated in it; it referred to
religion; the members of it had bound themselves together by an oath;
they reckoned much on foreign aid; she would soon know more about it."
Though urgently pressed, he would give her no further information.
"A nobleman," he said, "had confided it to him under the seal of
secrecy, and he had pledged his word of honor to him." What really
withheld him from giving her any further explanation was, in all
probability, not so much any delicacy about his honor, as his hatred
of the Inquisition, which he would not willingly do anything to advance.
Soon after him, Count Egmont delivered to the regent a copy of the
covenant, and also gave her the names of the conspirators, with some few
exceptions. Nearly about the same time the Prince of Orange wrote to
her: "There was, as he had heard, an army enlisted, four hundred
officers were already named, and twenty thousand men would presently
appear in arms." Thus the rumor was intentionally exaggerated, and the
danger was multiplied in every mouth.

The regent, petrified with alarm at the first announcement of these
tidings, and guided solely by her fears, hastily called together all the
members of the council of state who happened to be then in Brussels, and
at the same time sent a pressing summons to the Prince of Orange and
Count Horn, inviting them to resume their seats in the senate. Before
the latter could arrive she consulted with Egmont, Megen, and Barlaimont
what course was to be adopted in the present dangerous posture of
affairs. The question debated was whether it would be better to have
recourse to arms or to yield to the emergency and grant the demands of
the confederates; or whether they should be put off with promises, and
an appearance of compliance, in order to gain time for procuring
instructions from Spain, and obtaining money and troops? For the first
plan the requisite supplies were wanting, and, what was equally
requisite, confidence in the army, of which there seemed reason to doubt
whether it had not been already gained by the conspirators. The second
expedient would it was quite clear never be sanctioned by the king;
besides it would serve rather to raise than depress the courage of the
confederates; while, on the other hand, a compliance with their
reasonable demands and a ready unconditional pardon of the past would in
all probability stifle the rebellion in the cradle. The last opinion
was supported by Megen and Egmont but opposed by Barlaimont. "Rumor,"
said the latter, "had exaggerated the matter; it is impossible that so
formidable an armament could have been prepared so secretly and, so
rapidly. It was but a band of a few outcasts and desperadoes,
instigated by two or three enthusiasts, nothing more. All will be quiet
after a few heads have been struck off." The regent determined to await
the opinion of the council of state, which was shortly to assemble; in
the meanwhile, however, she was not inactive. The fortifications in the
most important places were inspected and the necessary repairs speedily
executed; her ambassadors at foreign courts received orders to redouble
their vigilance; expresses were sent off to Spain. At the same time she
caused the report to be revived of the near advent of the king, and in
her external deportment put on a show of that imperturbable firmness
which awaits attack without intending easily to yield to it. At the end
of March (four whole months consequently from the framing of the
covenant), the whole state council assembled in Brussels. There were
present the Prince of Orange, the Duke of Arschot, Counts Egmont,
Bergen, Megen, Aremberg, Horn, Hosstraten, Barlaimont, and others; the
Barons Montigny and Hachicourt, all the knights of the Golden Fleece,
with the President Viglius, State Counsellor Bruxelles, and the other
assessors of the privy council. Several letters were produced which
gave a clearer insight into the nature and objects of the conspiracy.
The extremity to which the regent was reduced gave the disaffected a
power which on the present occasion they did not neglect to use.
Venting their long suppressed indignation, they indulged in bitter
complaints against the court and against the government. "But lately,"
said the Prince of Orange, "the king sent forty thousand gold florins
to the Queen of Scotland to support her in her undertakings against
England, and he allows his Netherlands to be burdened with debt.
Not to mention the unseasonableness of this subsidy and its fruitless
expenditure, why should he bring upon us the resentment of a queen, who
is both so important to us as a friend and as an enemy so much to be
dreaded?" The prince did not even refrain on the present occasion from
glancing at the concealed hatred which the king was suspected of
cherishing against the family of Nassau and against him in particular.
"It is well known," he said, "that he has plotted with the hereditary
enemies of my house to take away my life, and that he waits with
impatience only for a suitable opportunity." His example opened the
lips of Count Horn also, and of many others besides, who with passionate
vehemence descanted on their own merits and the ingratitude of the king.
With difficulty did the regent succeed in silencing the tumult and in
recalling attention to the proper subject of the debate. The question
was whether the confederates, of whom it was now known that they
intended to appear at court with a petition, should be admitted or not?
The Duke of Arschot, Counts Aremberg, Megen, and Barlaimont gave their
negative to the proposition. "What need of five hundred persons," said
the latter, "to deliver a small memorial? This paradox of humility and
defiance implies no good. Let them send to us one respectable man from
among their number without pomp, without assumption, and so submit their
application to us. Otherwise, shut the gates upon them, or if some
insist on their admission let them be closely watched, and let the first
act of insolence which any one of them shall be guilty of be punished
with death." In this advice concurred Count Mansfeld, whose own son was
among the conspirators; he had even threatened to disinherit his son if
he did not quickly abandon the league.

Counts Megen, also, and Aremberg hesitated to receive the petition; the
Prince of Orange, however, Counts Egmont, Horn, Hogstraten, and others
voted emphatically for it. "The confederates," they declared, "were
known to them as men of integrity and honor; a great part of them were
connected with themselves by friendship and relationship, and they dared
vouch for their behavior. Every subject was allowed to petition; a
right which was enjoyed by the meanest individual in the state could not
without injustice be denied to so respectable a body of men." It was
therefore resolved by a majority of votes to admit the confederates on
the condition that they should appear unarmed and conduct themselves
temperately. The squabbles of the members of council had occupied the
greater part of the sitting, so that it was necessary to adjourn the
discussion to the following day. In order that the principal matter in
debate might not again be lost sight of in useless complaints the regent
at once hastened to the point: "Brederode, we are informed," she said,
"is coming to us, with an address in the name of the league, demanding
the abolition of the Inquisition and a mitigation of the edicts. The
advice of my senate is to guide me in my answer to him; but before you
give your opinions on this point permit me to premise a few words. I am
told that there are many even amongst yourselves who load the religious
edicts of the Emperor, my father, with open reproaches, and describe
them to the people as inhuman and barbarous. Now I ask you, lords and
gentlemen, knights of the Fleece, counsellors of his majesty and of the
state, whether you did not yourselves vote for these edicts, whether the
states of the realm have not recognized them as lawful? Why is that now
blamed, which was formerly declared right? Is it because they have now
become even more necessary than they then were? Since when is the
Inquisition a new thing in the Netherlands? Is it not full sixteen
years ago since the Emperor established it? And wherein is it more
cruel than the edicts? If it be allowed that the latter were the work
of wisdom, if the universal consent of the states has sanctioned them--
why this opposition to the former, which is nevertheless far more humane
than the edicts, if they are to be observed to the letter? Speak now
freely; I am not desirous of fettering your decision; but it is your
business to see that it is not misled by passion and prejudice." The
council of state was again, as it always had been, divided between two
opinions; but the few who spoke for the Inquisition and the literal
execution of the edicts were outvoted by the opposite party with the
Prince of Orange at its head. "Would to heaven," he began,--"that my
representations had been then thought worthy of attention, when as yet
the grounds of apprehension were remote; things would in that case never
have been carried so far as to make recourse to extreme measures
indispensable, nor would men have been plunged deeper in error by the
very means which were intended to beguile them from their delusion. We
are all unanimous on the one main point. We all wish to see the
Catholic religion safe; if this end can be secured without the aid of
the Inquisition, it is well, and we offer our wealth and our blood to
its service; but on this very point it is that our opinions are divided.

"There are two kinds of inquisition: the see of Rome lays claim to one,
the other has, from time immemorial, been exercised by the bishops. The
force of prejudice and of custom has made the latter light and
supportable to us. It will find little opposition in the Netherlands,
and the augmented numbers of the bishops will make it effective. To
what purpose then insist on the former, the mere name of which is
revolting to all the feelings of our minds? When so many nations exist
without it why should it be imposed on us? Before Luther appeared it
was never heard of; but the troubles with Luther happened at a time when
there was an inadequate number of spiritual overseers, and when the few
bishops were, moreover, indolent, and the licentiousness of the clergy
excluded them from the office of judges. Now all is changed; we now
count as many bishops as there are provinces. Why should not the policy
of the government adjust itself to the altered circumstances of the
times? We want leniency, not severity. The repugnance of the people is
manifest--this we must seek to appease if we would not have it burst out
into rebellion. With the death of Pius IV. the full powers of the
inquisitors have expired; the new pope has as yet sent no ratification
of their authority, without which no one formerly ventured to exercise
his office. Now, therefore, is the time when it can be suspended
without infringing the rights of any party.

"What I have stated with regard to the Inquisition holds equally good in
respect to the edicts also. The exigency of the times called them
forth, but are not those times passed? So long an experience of them
ought at last to have taught us that against hersey no means are less
successful than the fagot and sword. What incredible progress has not
the new religion made during only the last few years in the provinces;
and if we investigate the cause of this increase we shall find it
principally in the glorious constancy of those who have fallen
sacrifices to the truth of their opinions. Carried away by sympathy and
admiration, men begin to weigh in silence whether what is maintained
with such invincible courage may not really be the truth. In France and
in England the same severities may have been inflicted on the
Protestants, but have they been attended with any better success there
than here? The very earliest Christians boasted that the blood of the
martyrs was the seed of the church. The Emperor Julian, the most
terrible enemy that Christianity ever experienced, was fully persuaded
of this. Convinced that persecution did but kindle enthusiasm he betook
himself to ridicule and derision, and found these weapons far more
effective than force. In the Greek empire different teachers of heresy
have arisen at different times. Arius under Constantine, Aetius under
Constantius, Nestorius under Theodosius. But even against these
arch-heretics and their disciples such cruel measures were never resorted
to as are thought necessary against our unfortunate country--and yet
where are all those sects now which once a whole world, I had almost
said, could not contain? This is the natural course of heresy. If it is
treated with contempt it crumbles into insignificance. It is as iron,
which, if it lies idle, corrodes, and only becomes sharp by use. Let no
notice be paid to it, and it loses its most powerful attraction, the
magic of what is new and what is forbidden. Why will we not content
ourselves with the measures which have been approved of by the wisdom of
such great rulers? Example is ever the safest guide.

"But what need to go to pagan antiquity for guidance and example when we
have near at hand the glorious precedent of Charles V., the greatest of
kings, who taught at last by experience, abandoned the bloody path of
persecution, and for many years before his abdication adopted milder
measures. And Philip himself, our most gracious sovereign, seemed at
first strongly inclined to leniency until the counsels of Granvella and
of others like him changed these views; but with what right or wisdom
they may settle between themselves. To me, however, it has always
appeared indispensable that legislation to be wise and successful must
adjust itself to the manners and maxims of the times. In conclusion,
I would beg to remind you of the close understanding which subsists
between the Huguenots and the Flemish Protestants. Let us beware of
exasperating them any further. Let us not act the part of French
Catholics towards them, lest they should play the Huguenots against us,
and, like the latter, plunge their country into the horrors of a civil
war."

   [No one need wonder, says Burgundias (a vehement stickler for the
   Roman Catholic religion and the Spanish party), that the speech of
   this prince evinced so much acquaintance with philosophy; he had
   acquired it in his intercourse with Balduin. 180. Barry, 174-178.
   Hopper, 72. Strada, 123,124.]

It was, perhaps, not so much the irresistible truth of his arguments,
which, moreover, were supported by a decisive majority in the senate, as
rather the ruinous state of the military resources, and the exhaustion
of the treasury, that prevented the adoption of the opposite opinion
which recommended an appeal to the force of arms that the Prince of
Orange had chiefly to thank for the attention which now at last was paid
to his representations. In order to avert at first the violence of the
storm, and to gain time, which was so necessary to place the government
in a better sate of preparation, it was agreed that a portion of the
demands should be accorded to the confederates. It was also resolved to
mitigate the penal statutes of the Emperor, as he himself would
certainly mitigate them, were he again to appear among them at that day
--and as, indeed, he had once shown under circumstances very similar to
the present that he did not think it derogatory to his high dignity to
do. The Inquisition was not to be introduced in any place where it did
not already exist, and where it had been it should adopt a milder
system, or even be entirely suspended, especially since the inquisitors
had not yet been confirmed in their office by the pope. The latter
reason was put prominently forward, in order to deprive the Protestants
of the gratification of ascribing the concessions to any fear of their
own power, or to the justice of their demands. The privy council was
commissioned to draw out this decree of the senate without delay. Thus
prepared the confederates were awaited.



                THE GUEUX.

The members of the senate had not yet dispersed, when all Brussels
resounded with the report that the confederates were approaching the
town. They consisted of no more than two hundred horse, but rumor
greatly exaggerated their numbers. Filled with consternation, the
regent consulted with her ministers whether it was best to close the
gates on the approaching party or to seek safety in flight? Both
suggestions were rejected as dishonorable; and the peaceable entry of
the nobles soon allayed all fears of violence. The first morning after
their arrival they assembled at Kuilemberg house, where Brederode
administered to them a second oath, binding them before all other duties
to stand by one another, and even with arms if necessary. At this
meeting a letter from Spain was produced, in which it was stated that a
certain Protestant, whom, they all knew and valued, had been burned
alive in that country by a slow fire. After these and similar
preliminaries he called on them one after another by name to take the
new oath and renew the old one in their own names and in those of the
absent. The next day, the 5th of April, 1556, was fixed for the
presentation of the petition. Their numbers now amounted to between
three and four hundred. Amongst them were many retainers of the high
nobility, as also several servants of the king himself and of the
duchess.

With the Counts of Nassau and Brederode at their head, and formed in
ranks of four by four, they advanced in procession to the palace; all
Brussels attended the unwonted spectacle in silent astonishment. Here
were to be seen a body of men advancing with too much boldness and
confidence to look like supplicants, and led by two men who were not
wont to be petitioners; and, on the other hand, with so much order and
stillness as do not usually accompany rebellion. The regent received
the procession surrounded by all her counsellors and the Knights of the
Fleece. "These noble Netherlanders," thus Brederode respectfully
addressed her, "who here present themselves before your highness, wish
in their own name, and of many others besides who are shortly to arrive,
to present to you a petition of whose importance as well as of their own
humility this solemn procession must convince you. I, as speaker of
this body, entreat you to receive our petition, which contains nothing
but what is in unison with the laws of our country and the honor of the
king."

"If this petition," replied Margaret, "really contains nothing which is
at variance either with the good of the country, or with the authority
of the king, there is no doubt that it will be favorably considered."
"They had learnt," continued the spokesman, "with indignation and regret
that suspicious objects had been imputed to their association, and that
interested parties had endeavored to prejudice her highness against him;
they therefore craved that she would name the authors of so grave an
accusation, and compel them to bring their charges publicly, and in due
form, in order that he who should be found guilty might suffer the
punishment of his demerits." "Undoubtedly," replied the regent, "she
had received unfavorable rumors of their designs and alliance. She
could not be blamed, if in consequence she had thought it requisite to
call the attention of the governors of the provinces to the matter; but,
as to giving up the names of her informants to betray state secrets,"
she added, with an appearance of displeasure, "that could not in justice
be required of her." She then appointed the next day for answering
their petition; and in the meantime she proceeded to consult the members
of her council upon it.

"Never" (so ran the petition which, according to some, was drawn up by
the celebrated Balduin), "never had they failed in their loyalty to
their king, and nothing now could be farther from their hearts; but they
would rather run the risk of incurring the displeasure of their
sovereign than allow him to remain longer in ignorance of the evils with
which their native country was menaced, by the forcible introduction of
the Inquisition and the continued enforcement of the edicts. They had
long remained consoling themselves with the expectation that a general
assembly of the states would be summoned to remedy these grievances; but
now that even this hope was extinguished, they held it to be their duty
to give timely warning to the regent. They, therefore, entreated her
highness to send to Madrid an envoy, well disposed, and fully acquainted
with the state and temper of the times, who should endeavor to persuade
the king to comply with the demands of the whole nation, and abolish the
Inquisition, to revoke the edicts, and in their stead cause new and more
humane ones to be drawn up at a general assembly of the states. But, in
the meanwhile, until they could learn the king's decision, they prayed
that the edicts and the operations of the Inquisition be suspended."
"If," they concluded, "no attention should be paid to their humble
request, they took God, the king, the regent, and all her counsellors to
witness that they had done their part, and were not responsible for any
unfortunate result that might happen."

The following day the confederates, marching in the same order of
procession, but in still greater numbers (Counts Bergen and Kuilemberg
having, in the interim, joined them with their adherents), appeared
before the regent in order to receive her answer. It was written on the
margin of the petition, and was to the effect, "that entirely to suspend
the Inquisition and the edicts, even temporarily, was beyond her powers;
but in compliance with the wishes of the confederates she was ready to
despatch one of the nobles to the king in Spain, and also to support
their petition with all her influence. In the meantime, she would
recommend the inquisitors to administer their office with moderation;
but in return she should expect on the part of the league that they
should abstain from all acts of violence, and undertake nothing to the
prejudice of the Catholic faith." Little as these vague and general
promises satisfied the confederates, they were, nevertheless, as much as
they could have reasonably expected to gain at first. The granting or
refusing of the petition had nothing to do with the primary object of
the league. Enough for them at present that it was once recognized,
enough that it was now, as it were, an established body, which by its
power and threats might, if necessary, overawe the government. The
confederates, therefore, acted quite consistently with their designs,
in contenting themselves with this answer, and referring the rest to
the good pleasure of the king. As, indeed, the whole pantomime of
petitioning had only been invented to cover the more daring plan of the
league, until it should have strength enough to show itself in its true
light, they felt that much more depended on their being able to continue
this mask, and on the favorable reception of their petition, than on its
speedily being granted. In a new memorial, which they delivered three
days after, they pressed for an express testimonial from the regent that
they had done no more than their duty, and been guided simply by their
zeal for the service of the king. When the duchess evaded a
declaration, they even sent a person to repeat this request in a private
interview. "Time alone and their future behavior," she replied to this
person, "would enable her to judge of their designs."

The league had its origin in banquets, and a banquet gave it form and
perfection. On the very day that the second petition was presented
Brederode entertained the confederates in Kuilemberg house. About three
hundred guests assembled; intoxication gave them courage, and their
audacity rose with their numbers. During the conversation one of their
number happened to remark that he had overheard the Count of Barlaimont
whisper in French to the regent, who was seen to turn pale on the
delivery of the petitions, that "she need not be afraid of a band of
beggars (gueux);" (in fact, the majority of them had by their bad
management of their incomes only too well deserved this appellation.)
Now, as the very name for their fraternity was the very thing which had
most perplexed them, an expression was eagerly caught up, which, while
it cloaked the presumption of their enterprise in humility, was at the
same time appropriate to them as petitioners. Immediately they drank to
one another under this name, and the cry "long live the Gueux!" was
accompanied with a general shout of applause. After the cloth had been
removed Brederode appeared with a wallet over his shoulder similar to
that which the vagrant pilgrims and mendicant monks of the time used to
carry, and after returning thanks to all for their accession to the
league, and boldly assuring them that he was ready to venture life and
limb for every individual present, he drank to the health of the whole
company out of a wooden beaker. The cup went round and every one
uttered the same vow as be set it to his lips. Then one after the other
they received the beggar's purse, and each hung it on a nail which he
had appropriated to himself. The shouts and uproar attending this
buffoonery attracted the Prince of Orange and Counts Egmont and Horn,
who by chance were passing the spot at the very moment, and on entering
the house were boisterously pressed by Brederode, as host, to remain and
drink a glass with them.

   ["But," Egmont asserted in his written defence "we drank only one
   single small glass, and thereupon they cried 'long live the king
   and the Gueux!' This was the first time that I heard that
   appellation, and it certainly did not please me. But the times
   were so bad that one was often compelled to share in much that was
   against one's inclination, and I knew not but I was doing an
   innocent thing." Proces criminels des Comtes d'Egmont, etc.. 7. 1.
   Egmont's defence, Hopper, 94. Strada, 127-130. Burgund., 185,
   187.]

The entrance of three such influential personages renewed the mirth of
the guests, and their festivities soon passed the bounds of moderation.
Many were intoxicated; guests and attendants mingled together without
distinction; the serious and the ludicrous, drunken fancies and affairs
of state were blended one with another in a burlesque medley; and the
discussions on the general distress of the country ended in the wild
uproar of a bacchanalian revel. But it did not stop here; what they had
resolved on in the moment of intoxication they attempted when sober to
carry into execution. It was necessary to manifest to the people in
some striking shape the existence of their protectors, and likewise to
fan the zeal of the faction by a visible emblem; for this end nothing
could be better than to adopt publicly this name of Gueux, and to borrow
from it the tokens of the association. In a few days the town of
Brussels swarmed with ash-gray garments such as were usually worn by
mendicant friars and penitents. Every confederate put his whole family
and domestics in this dress. Some carried wooden bowls thinly overlaid
with plates of silver, cups of the same kind, and wooden knives; in
short the whole paraphernalia of the beggar tribe, which they either
fixed around their hats or suspended from their girdles: Round the neck
they wore a golden or silver coin, afterwards called the Geusen penny,
of which one side bore the effigy of the king, with the inscription,
"True to the king;" on the other side were seen two hands folded
together holding a wallet, with the words "as far as the beggar's
scrip." Hence the origin of the name "Gueux," which was subsequently
borne in the Netherlands by all who seceded from popery and took up arms
against the king.

Before the confederates separated and dispersed among the provinces they
presented themselves once more before the duchess, in order to remind
her of the necessity of leniency towards the heretics until the arrival
of the king's answer from Spain, if she did not wish to drive the people
to extremities. "If, however," they added, "a contrary behavior should
give rise to any evils they at least must be regarded as having done
their duty."

To this the regent replied, "she hoped to be able to adopt such
measures as would render it impossible for disorders to ensue; but if,
nevertheless, they did occur, she could ascribe them to no one but the
confederates. She therefore earnestly admonished them on their part to
fulfil their engagements, but especially to receive no new members into
the league, to hold no more private assemblies, and generally not to
attempt any novel and unconstitutional measures." And in order to
tranquillize their minds she commanded her private secretary, Berti, to
show them the letters to the inquisitors and secular judges, wherein
they were enjoined to observe moderation towards all those who had not
aggravated their heretical offences by any civil crime. Before their
departure from Brussels they named four presidents from among their
number who were to take care of the affairs of the league, and also
particular administrators for each province. A few were left behind in
Brussels to keep a watchful eye on all the movements of the court.
Brederode, Kuilemberg, and Bergen at last quitted the town, attended by
five hundred and fifty horsemen, saluted it once more beyond the walls
with a discharge of musketry, and then the three leaders parted,
Brederode taking the road to Antwerp, and the two others to Guelders.
The regent had sent off an express to Antwerp to warn the magistrate of
that town against him. On his arrival more than a thousand persons
thronged to the hotel where he had taken up his abode. Showing himself
at a window, with a full wineglass in his hand, he thus addressed them:
"Citizens of Antwerp! I am here at the hazard of my life and my
property to relieve you from the oppressive burden of the Inquisition.
If you are ready to share this enterprise with me, and to acknowledge me
as your leader, accept the health which I here drink to you, and hold up
your hands in testimony of your approbation." Hereupon he drank to
their health, and all hands were raised amidst clamorous shouts of
exultation. After this heroic deed he quitted Antwerp.

Immediately after the delivery of the "petition of the nobles," the
regent had caused a new form of the edicts to be drawn up in the privy
council, which should keep the mean between the commands of the king and
the demands of the confederates. But the next question that arose was
to determine whether it would be advisable immediately to promulgate
this mitigated form, or moderation, as it was commonly called, or to
submit it first to the king for his ratification. The privy council who
maintained that it would be presumptuous to take a step so important and
so contrary to the declared sentiments of the monarch without having
first obtained his sanction, opposed the vote of the Prince of Orange
who supported the former proposition. Besides, they urged, there was
cause to fear that it would not even content the nation.

A "moderation" devised with the assent of the states was what they
particularly insisted on. In order, therefore, to gain the consent of
the states, or rather to obtain it from them by stealth, the regent
artfully propounded the question to the provinces singly, and first of
all to those which possessed the least freedom, such as Artois, Namur,
and Luxemburg. Thus she not only prevented one province encouraging
another in opposition, but also gained this advantage by it, that the
freer provinces, such as Flanders and Brabant, which were prudently
reserved to the last, allowed themselves to be carried away by the
example of the others. By a very illegal procedure the representatives
of the towns were taken by surprise, and their consent exacted before
they could confer with their constituents, while complete silence was
imposed upon them with regard to the whole transaction. By these means
the regent obtained the unconditional consent of some of the provinces
to the "moderation," and, with a few slight changes, that of other
provinces. Luxemburg and Namur subscribed it without scruple. The
states of Artois simply added the condition that false informers should
be subjected to a retributive penalty; those of Hainault demanded that
instead of confiscation of the estates, which directly militated against
their privileges, another discretionary punishment should be introduced.
Flanders called for the entire abolition of the Inquisition, and desired
that the accused might be secured in right of appeal to their own
province. The states of Brabant were outwitted by the intrigues of the
court. Zealand, Holland, Utrecht, Guelders, and Friesland as being
provinces which enjoyed the most important privileges, and which,
moreover, watched over them with the greatest jealousy, were never asked
for their opinion. The provincial courts of judicature had also been
required to make a report on the projected amendment of the law, but we
may well suppose that it was unfavorable, as it never reached Spain.
From the principal cause of this "moderation," which, however, really
deserved its name, we may form a judgment of the general character of
the edicts themselves. "Sectarian writers," it ran, "the heads and
teachers of sects, as also those who conceal heretical meetings, or
cause any other public scandal, shall be punished with the gallows, and
their estates, where the law of the province permit it, confiscated; but
if they abjure their errors, their punishment shall be commuted into
decapitation with the sword, and their effects shall be preserved to
their families." A cruel snare for parental affection! Less grievous
heretics, it was further enacted, shall, if penitent, be pardoned; and
if impenitent shall be compelled to leave the country, without, however,
forfeiting their estates, unless by continuing to lead others astray
they deprive themselves of the benefit of this provision. The
Anabaptists, however, were expressly excluded from benefiting by this
clause; these, if they did not clear themselves by the most thorough
repentance, were to forfeit their possessions; and if, on the other
hand, they relapsed after penitence, that is, were backsliding heretics,
they were to be put to death without mercy. The greater regard for life
and property which is observable in this ordinance as compared with the
edicts, and which we might be tempted to ascribe to a change of
intention in the Spanish ministry, was nothing more than a compulsory
step extorted by the determined opposition of the nobles. So little,
too, were the people in the Netherlands satisfied by this "moderation,"
which fundamentally did not remove a single abuse, that instead of
"moderation" (mitigation), they indignantly called it "moorderation,"
that is, murdering.

After the consent of the states had in this manner been extorted from
them, the "moderation" was submitted to the council of the state, and,
after receiving their signatures, forwarded to the king in Spain in
order to receive from his ratification the force of law.

The embassy to Madrid, which had been agreed upon with the confederates,
was at the outset entrusted to the Marquis of Bergen, who, however, from
a distrust of the present disposition of the king, which was only too
well grounded, and from reluctance to engage alone in so delicate a
business, begged for a coadjutor.

   [This Marquis of Bergen is to be distinguished from Count William
   of Bergen, who was among the first who subscribed the covenant.
   Vigi. ad Hopper, Letter VII.]

He obtained one in the Baron of Montigny, who had previously been
employed in a similar duty, and had discharged it with high credit.
As, however, circumstances had since altered so much that he had just
anxiety as to his present reception in Madrid for his greater safety,
he stipulated with the duchess that she should write to the monarch
previously; and that he, with his companion, should, in the meanwhile,
travel slowly enough to give time for the king's answer reaching him en
route. His good genius wished, as it appeared, to save him from the
terrible fate which awaited him in Madrid, for his departure was delayed
by an unexpected obstacle, the Marquis of Bergen being disabled from
setting out immediately through a wound which he received from the blow
of a tennis-ball. At last, however, yielding to the pressing
importunities of the regent, who was anxious to expedite the business,
he set out alone, not, as he hoped, to carry the cause of his nation,
but to die for it.

In the meantime the posture of affairs had changed so greatly in the
Netherlands, the step which the nobles had recently taken had so nearly
brought on a complete rupture with the government, that it seemed
impossible for the Prince of Orange and his friends to maintain any
longer the intermediate and delicate position which they had hitherto
held between the country and the court, or to reconcile the
contradictory duties to which it gave rise. Great must have been
the restraint which, with their mode of thinking, they had to put on
themselves not to take part in this contest; much, too, must their
natural love of liberty, their patriotism, and their principles of
toleration have suffered from the constraint which their official
station imposed upon them. On the other hand, Philip's distrust, the
little regard which now for a long time had been paid to their advice,
and the marked slights which the duchess publicly put upon them, had
greatly contributed to cool their zeal for the service, and to render
irksome the longer continuance of a part which they played with so much
repugnance and with so little thanks. This feeling was strengthened by
several intimations they received from Spain which placed beyond doubt
the great displeasure of the king at the petition of the nobles, and his
little satisfaction with their own behavior on that occasion, while they
were also led to expect that he was about to enter upon measures, to
which, as favorable to the liberties of their country, and for the most
part friends or blood relations of the confederates; they could never
lend their countenance or support. On the name which should be applied
in Spain to the confederacy of the nobles it principally depended what
course they should follow for the future. If the petition should be
called rebellion no alternative would be left them but either to come
prematurely to a dangerous explanation with the court, or to aid it in
treating as enemies those with whom they had both a fellow-feeling and a
common interest. This perilous alternative could only be avoided by
withdrawing entirely from public affairs; this plan they had once before
practically adopted, and under present circumstances it was something
more than a simple expedient. The whole nation had their eyes upon
them. An unlimited confidence in their integrity, and the universal
veneration for their persons, which closely bordered on idolatry, would
ennoble the cause which they might make their own and ruin that which
they should abandon. Their share in the administration of the state,
though it were nothing more than nominal, kept the opposite party in
check; while they attended the senate violent measures were avoided
because their continued presence still favored some expectations of
succeeding by gentle means. The withholding of their approbation, even
if it did not proceed from their hearts, dispirited the faction, which,
on the contrary, would exert its full strength so soon as it could
reckon even distantly on obtaining so weighty a sanction. The very
measures of the government which, if they came through their hands, were
certain of a favorable reception and issue, would without them prove
suspected and futile; even the royal concessions, if they were not
obtained by the mediation of these friends of the people, would fail of
the chief part of their efficacy. Besides, their retirement from public
affairs would deprive the regent of the benefit of their advice at a
time when counsel was most indispensable to her; it would, moreover,
leave the preponderance with a party which, blindly dependent on the
court, and ignorant of the peculiarities of republican character, would
neglect nothing to aggravate the evil, and to drive to extremity the
already exasperated mind of the public.

All these motives (and it is open to every one, according to his good or
bad opinion of the prince, to say which was the most influential) tended
alike to move him to desert the regent, and to divest himself of all
share in public affairs. An opportunity for putting this resolve into
execution soon presented itself. The prince had voted for the immediate
promulgation of the newly-revised edicts; but the regent, following the
suggestion of her privy council, had determined to transmit them first
to the king. "I now see clearly," he broke out with well-acted
vehemence, "that all the advice which I give is distrusted. The king
requires no servants whose loyalty he is determined to doubt; and far be
it from me to thrust my services upon a sovereign who is unwilling to
receive them. Better, therefore, for him and me that I withdraw from
public affairs." Count Horn expressed himself nearly to the same
effect. Egmont requested permission to visit the baths of
Aix-la-Chapelle, the use of which had been prescribed to him by his
physician, although (as it is stated in his accusation) he appeared
health itself. The regent, terrified at the consequences which must
inevitably follow this step, spoke sharply to the prince. "If neither my
representations, nor the general welfare can prevail upon you, so far as
to induce you to relinquish this intention, let me advise you to be more
careful, at least, of your own reputation. Louis of Nassau is your
brother; he and Count Brederode, the heads of the confederacy, have
publicly been your guests. The petition is in substance identical with
your own representations in the council of state. If you now suddenly
desert the cause of your king will it not be universally said that you
favor the conspiracy?" We do not find it anywhere stated whether the
prince really withdrew at this time from the council of state; at all
events, if he did, he must soon have altered his mind, for shortly after
he appears again in public transactions. Egmont allowed himself to be
overcome by the remonstrances of the regent; Horn alone actually withdrew
himself to one of his estates,--[Where he remained three months
inactive.]--with the resolution of never more serving either emperor or
king. Meanwhile the Gueux had dispersed themselves through the provinces,
and spread everywhere the most favorable reports of their success.
According to their assertions, religious freedom was finally assured; and
in order to confirm their statements they helped themselves, where the
truth failed, with falsehood. For example, they produced a forged letter
of the Knights of the Fleece, in which the latter were made solemnly to
declare that for the future no one need fear imprisonment, or banishment,
or death on account of religion, unless he also committed a political
crime; and even in that case the confederates alone were to be his
judges; and this regulation was to be in force until the king, with the
consent and advice of the states of the realm, should otherwise dispose.
Earnestly as the knights applied themselves upon the first information of
the fraud to rescue the nation from their delusion, still it had already
in this short interval done good service to the faction. If there are
truths whose effect is limited to a single instant, then inventions which
last so long can easily assume their place. Besides, the report, however
false, was calculated both to awaken distrust between the regent and the
knights, and to support the courage of the Protestants by fresh hopes,
while it also furnished those who were meditating innovation an
appearance of right, which, however unsubstantial they themselves knew it
to be, served as a colorable pretext for their proceedings. Quickly as
this delusion was dispelled, still, in the short space of time that it
obtained belief, it had occasioned so many extravagances, had introduced
so much irregularity and license, that a return to the former state of
things became impossible, and continuance in the course already commenced
was rendered necessary as well by habit as by despair. On the very first
news of this happy result the fugitive Protestants had returned to their
homes, which they had so unwillingly abandoned; those who had been in
concealment came forth from their hiding-places; those who had hitherto
paid homage to the new religion in their hearts alone, emboldened by
these pretended acts of toleration, now gave in their adhesion to it
publicly and decidedly. The name of the "Gueux" was extolled in all the
provinces; they were called the pillars of religion and liberty; their
party increased daily, and many of the merchants began to wear their
insignia. The latter made an alteration in the "Gueux" penny, by
introducing two travellers' staffs, laid crosswise, to intimate that they
stood prepared and ready at any instant to forsake house and hearth for
the sake of religion. The Gueux league, in short, had now given to things
an entirely different form. The murmurs of the people, hitherto impotent
and despised, as being the cries of individuals, had, now that they were
concentrated, become formidable; and had gained power, direction, and
firmness through union. Every one who was rebelliously disposed now
looked on himself as the member of a venerable and powerful body, and
believed that by carrying his own complaints to the general stock of
discontent he secured the free expression of them. To be called an
important acquisition to the league flattered the vain; to be lost,
unnoticed, and irresponsible in the crowd was an inducement to the timid.
The face which the confederacy showed to the nation was very unlike that
which it had turned to the court. But had its objects been the purest,
had it really been as well disposed towards the throne as it wished to
appear, still the multitude would have regarded only what was illegal in
its proceedings, and upon them its better intentions would have been
entirely lost.



              PUBLIC PREACHING.

No moment could be more favorable to the Huguenots and the German
Protestants than the present to seek a market for their dangerous
commodity in the Netherlands. Accordingly, every considerable town now
swarmed with suspicious arrivals, masked spies, and the apostles of
every description of heresy. Of the religious parties, which had sprung
up by secession from the ruling church, three chiefly had made
considerable progress in the provinces. Friesland and the adjoining
districts were overrun by the Anabaptists, who, however, as the most
indigent, without organization and government, destitute of military
resources, and moreover at strife amongst themselves, awakened the least
apprehension. Of far more importance were the Calvanists, who prevailed
in the southern provinces, and above all in Flanders, who were
powerfully supported by their neighbors the Huguenots, the republic of
Geneva, the Swiss Cantons, and part of Germany, and whose opinions, with
the exception of a slight difference, were also held by the throne in
England. They were also the most numerous party, especially among the
merchants and common citizens. The Huguenots, expelled from France, had
been the chief disseminators of the tenets of this party. The Lutherans
were inferior both in numbers and wealth, but derived weight from having
many adherents among the nobility. They occupied, for the most part,
the eastern portion of the Netherlands, which borders on Germany, and
were also to be found in some of the northern territories. Some of the
most powerful princes of Germany were their allies; and the religious
freedom of that empire, of which by the Burgundian treaty the
Netherlands formed an integral part, was claimed by them with some
appearance of right. These three religious denominations met together
in Antwerp, where the crowded population concealed them, and the
mingling of all nations favored liberty. They had nothing in common,
except an equally inextinguishable hatred of popery, of the Inquisition
in particular, and of the Spanish government, whose instrument it was;
while, on the other hand, they watched each other with a jealousy which
kept their zeal in exercise, and prevented the glowing ardor of
fanaticism from waxing dull.

The regent, in expectation that the projected "moderation" would be
sanctioned by the king, had, in the meantime, to gratify the Gueux,
recommended the governors and municipal officers of the provinces to be
as moderate as possible in their proceedings against heretics;
instructions which were eagerly followed, and interpreted in the widest
sense by the majority, who had hitherto administered the painful duty of
punishment with extreme repugnance. Most of the chief magistrates were
in their hearts averse to the Inquisition and the Spanish tyranny, and
many were even secretly attached to one or other of the religious
parties; even the others were unwilling to inflict punishment on
their countrymen to gratify their sworn enemies, the Spaniards.
All, therefore, purposely misunderstood the regent, and allowed the
Inquisition and the edicts to fall almost entirely into disuse.
This forbearance of the government, combined with the brilliant
representations of the Gueux, lured from their obscurity the
Protestants, who, however, had now grown too powerful to be any longer
concealed. Hitherto they had contented themselves with secret
assemblies by night; now they thought themselves numerous and formidable
enough to venture to these meetings openly and publicly. This license
commenced somewhere between Oudenarde and Ghent, and soon spread through
the rest of Flanders. A certain Herrnann Stricker, born at Overyssel,
formerly a monk, a daring enthusiast of able mind, imposing figure, and
ready tongue, was the first who collected the people for a sermon in the
open air. The novelty of the thing gathered together a crowd of about
seven thousand persons. A magistrate of the neighborhood, more
courageous than wise, rushed amongst the crowd with his drawn sword, and
attempted to seize the preacher, but was so roughly handled by the
multitude, who for want of other weapons took up stones and felled him
to the ground, that he was glad to beg for his life.

   [The unheard-of foolhardiness of a single man rushing into the
   midst of a fanatical crowd of seven thousand people to seize before
   their eyes one whom they adored, proves, more than all that can be
   said on the subject the insolent contempt with which the Roman
   Catholics of the time looked down upon the so-called heretics as an
   inferior race of beings.]

This success of the first attempt inspired courage for a second. In the
vicinity of Aalst they assembled again in still greater numbers; but on
this occasion they provided themselves with rapiers, firearms, and
halberds, placed sentries at all the approaches, which they also
barricaded with carts and carriages. All passers-by were obliged,
whether willing or otherwise, to take part in the religious service, and
to enforce this object lookout parties were posted at certain distances
round the place of meeting. At the entrance booksellers stationed
themselves, offering for sale Protestant catechisms, religious tracts,
and pasquinades on the bishops. The preacher, Hermann Stricker, held
forth from a pulpit which was hastily constructed for the occasion out
of carts and trunks of trees. A canvas awning drawn over it protected
him from the sun and the rain; the preacher's position was in the
quarter of the wind that the people might not lose any part of his
sermon, which consisted principally of revilings against popery. Here
the sacraments were administered after the Calvinistic fashion, and
water was procured from the nearest river to baptize infants without
further ceremony, after the practice, it was pretended, of the earliest
times of Christianity. Couples were also united in wedlock, and the
marriage ties dissolved between others. To be present at this meeting
half the population of Ghent had left its gates; their example was soon
followed in other parts, and ere long spread over the whole of East
Flanders. In like manner Peter Dathen, another renegade monk, from
Poperingen, stirred up West Flanders; as many as fifteen thousand
persons at a time attended his preaching from the villages and hamlets;
their number made them bold, and they broke into the prisons, where some
Anabaptists were reserved for martyrdom. In Tournay the Protestants
were excited to a similar pitch of daring by Ambrosius Ville, a French
Calvinist. They demanded the release of the prisoners of their sect,
and repeatedly threatened if their demands were not complied with to
deliver up the town to the French. It was entirely destitute of a
garrison, for the commandant, from fear of treason, had withdrawn it
into the castle, and the soldiers, moreover, refused to act against
their fellow-citizens. The sectarians carried their audacity to such
great lengths as to require one of the churches within the town to be
assigned to them; and when this was refused they entered into a league
with Valenciennes and Antwerp to obtain a legal recognition of their
worship, after the example of the other towns, by open force. These
three towns maintained a close connection with each other, and the
Protestant party was equally powerful in all. While, however, no one
would venture singly to commence the disturbance, they agreed
simultaneously to make a beginning with public preaching. Brederode's
appearance in Antwerp at last gave them courage. Six thousand persons,
men and women, poured forth from the town on an appointed day, on which
the same thing happened in Tournay and Valenciennes. The place of
meeting was closed in with a line of vehicles, firmly fastened together,
and behind them armed men were secretly posted, with a view to protect
the service from any surprise. Of the preachers, most of whom were men
of the very lowest class--some were Germans, some were Huguenots--and
spoke in the Walloon dialect; some even of the citizens felt themselves
called upon to take a part in this sacred work, now that no fears of the
officers of justice alarmed them. Many were drawn to the spot by mere
curiosity to hear what kind of new and unheard-of doctrines these
foreign teachers, whose arrival had caused so much talk, would set
forth. Others were attracted by the melody of the psalms, which were
sung in a French version, after the custom in Geneva. A great number
came to hear these sermons as so many amusing comedies such was the
buffoonery with which the pope, the fathers of the ecclesiastical
council of Trent, purgatory, and other dogmas of the ruling church were
abused in them. And, in fact, the more extravagant was this abuse and
ridicule the more it tickled the ears of the lower orders; and a
universal clapping of hands, as in a theatre, rewarded the speaker who
had surpassed others in the wildness of his jokes and denunciations.
But the ridicule which was thus cast upon the ruling church was,
nevertheless, not entirely lost on the minds of the hearers, as neither
were the few grains of truth or reason which occasionally slipped in
among it; and many a one, who had sought from these sermons anything but
conviction, unconsciously carried away a little also of it.

These assemblies were several times repeated, and each day augmented the
boldness of the sectarians; till at last they even ventured, after
concluding the service to conduct their preachers home in triumph, with
an escort of armed horsemen, and ostentatiously to brave the law. The
town council sent express after express to the duchess, entreating her
to visit them in person, and if possible to reside for a short time in
Antwerp, as the only expedient to curb the arrogance of the populace;
and assuring her that the most eminent merchants, afraid of being
plundered, were already preparing to quit it. Fear of staking the royal
dignity on so hazardous a stroke of policy forbade her compliance; but
she despatched in her stead Count Megen, in order to treat with the
magistrate for the introduction of a garrison. The rebellious mob, who
quickly got an inkling of the object of his visit, gathered around him
with tumultuous cries, shouting, "He was known to them as a sworn enemy
of the Gueux; that it was notorious he was bringing upon them prisons
and the Inquisition, and that he should leave the town instantly." Nor
was the tumult quieted till Megen was beyond the gates. The Calvinists
now handed in to the magistrate a memorial, in which they showed that
their great numbers made it impossible for them henceforward to assemble
in secrecy, and requested a separate place of worship to be allowed them
inside the town. The town council renewed its entreaties to the duchess
to assist, by her personal presence, their perplexities, or at least to
send to them the Prince of Orange, as the only person for whom the
people still had any respect, and, moreover, as specially bound to the
town of Antwerp by his hereditary title of its burgrave. In order to
escape the greater evil she was compelled to consent to the second
demand, however much against her inclination to entrust Antwerp to the
prince. After allowing himself to be long and fruitlessly entreated,
for he had all at once resolved to take no further share in public
affairs, he yielded at last to the earnest persuasions of the regent
and the boisterous wishes of the people. Brederode, with a numerous
retinue, came half a mile out of the town to meet him, and both parties
saluted each other with a discharge of pistols. Antwerp appeared to
have poured out all her inhabitants to welcome her deliverer. The high
road swarmed with multitudes; the roofs were taken off the houses in
order that they might accommodate more spectators; behind fences, from
churchyard walls, even out of graves started up men. The attachment of
the people to the prince showed itself in childish effusions. "Long
live the Gueux!" was the shout with which young and old received him.
"Behold," cried others, "the man who shall give us liberty." "He brings
us," cried the Lutherans, "the Confession of Augsburg!" "We don't want
the Gueux now!" exclaimed others; "we have no more need of the
troublesome journey to Brussels. He alone is everything to us!" Those
who knew not what to say vented their extravagant joy in psalms, which
they vociferously chanted as they moved along. He, however, maintained
his gravity, beckoned for silence, and at last, when no one would listen
to him, exclaimed with indignation, half real and half affected, "By
God, they ought to consider what they did, or they would one day repent
what they had now done." The shouting increased even as he rode into
the town. The first conference of the prince with the heads of the
different religious sects, whom he sent for and separately interrogated,
presently convinced him that the chief source of the evil was the mutual
distrust of the several parties, and the suspicions which the citizens
entertained of the designs of the government, and that therefore it must
be his first business to restore confidence among them all. First of
all he attempted, both by persuasion and artifice, to induce the
Calvinists, as the most numerous body, to lay down their weapons, and in
this he at last, with much labor, succeeded. When, however, some wagons
were soon afterwards seen laden with ammunition in Malines, and the high
bailiff of Brabant showed himself frequently in the neighborhood of
Antwerp with an armed force, the Calvinists, fearing hostile
interruption of their religious worship, besought the prince to allot
them a place within the walls for their sermons, which should be secure
from a surprise. He succeeded once more in pacifying them, and his
presence fortunately prevented an outbreak on the Assumption of the
Virgin, which, as usual, had drawn a crowd to the town, and from whose
sentiments there was but too much reason for alarm. The image of the
Virgin was, with the usual pomp, carried round the town without
interruption; a few words of abuse, and a suppressed murmur about
idolatry, was all that the disapproving multitudes indulged in against
the procession.


1566. While the regent received from one province after another the
most melancholy accounts of the excesses of the Protestants, and while
she trembled for Antwerp, which she was compelled to leave in the
dangerous hands of the Prince of Orange, a new terror assailed her from
another quarter. Upon the first authentic tidings of the public
preaching she immediately called upon the league to fulfil its promises
and to assist her in restoring order. Count Brederode used this pretext
to summon a general meeting of the whole league, for which he could not
have selected a more dangerous moment than the present. So ostentatious
a display of the strength of the league, whose existence and protection
had alone encouraged the Protestant mob to go the length it had already
gone, would now raise the confidence of the sectarians, while in the
same degree it depressed the courage of the regent. The convention took
place in the town of Liege St. Truyen, into which Brederode and Louis of
Nassau had thrown themselves at the head of two thousand confederates.
As the long delay of the royal answer from Madrid seemed to presage no
good from that quarter, they considered it advisable in any case to
extort from the regent a letter of indemnity for their persons.

Those among them who were conscious of a disloyal sympathy with the
Protestant mob looked on its licentiousness as a favorable circumstance
for the league; the apparent success of those to whose degrading
fellowship they had deigned to stoop led them to alter their tone; their
former laudable zeal began to degenerate into insolence and defiance.
Many thought that they ought to avail themselves of the general
confusion and the perplexity of the duchess to assume a bolder tone and
heap demand upon demand. The Roman Catholic members of the league,
among whom many were in their hearts still strongly inclined to the
royal cause, and who had been drawn into a connection with the league by
occasion and example, rather than from feeling and conviction, now heard
to their astonishment propositions for establishing universal freedom of
religion, and were not a little shocked to discover in how perilous an
enterprise they had hastily implicated themselves. On this discovery
the young Count Mansfeld withdrew immediately from it, and internal
dissensions already began to undermine the work of precipitation and
haste, and imperceptibly to loosen the joints of the league.

Count Egmont and William of Orange were empowered by the regent to treat
with the confederates. Twelve of the latter, among whom were Louis of
Nassau, Brederode, and Kuilemberg, conferred with them in Duffle, a
village near Malines. "Wherefore this new step?" demanded the regent
by the mouth of these two noblemen. "I was required to despatch
ambassadors to Spain; and I sent them. The edicts and the Inquisition
were complained of as too rigorous; I have rendered both more lenient.
A general assembly of the states of the realm was proposed; I have
submitted this request to the king because I could not grant it from my
own authority. What, then, have I unwittingly either omitted or done
that should render necessary this assembling in St. Truyen? Is it
perhaps fear of the king's anger and of its consequences that disturbs
the confederates? The provocation certainly is great, but his mercy is
even greater. Where now is the promise of the league to excite no
disturbances amongst the people? Where those high-sounding professions
that they were ready to die at my feet rather, than offend against any
of the prerogatives of the crown? The innovators already venture on
things which border closely on rebellion, and threaten the state with
destruction; and it is to the league that they appeal. If it continues
silently to tolerate this it will justly bring on itself the charge of
participating in the guilt of their offences; if it is honestly disposed
towards the sovereign it cannot remain longer inactive in this
licentiousness of the mob. But, in truth, does it not itself outstrip
the insane population by its dangerous example, concluding, as it is
known to do, alliances with the enemies of the country, and confirming
the evil report of its designs by the present illegal meeting?"

Against these reproaches the league formally justified itself in a
memorial which it deputed three of its members to deliver to the council
of state at Brussels.

"All," it commenced, "that your highness has done in respect to our
petition we have felt with the most lively gratitude; and we cannot
complain of any new measure, subsequently adopted, inconsistent with
your promise; but we cannot help coming to the conclusion that the
orders of your highness are by the judicial courts, at least, very
little regarded; for we are continually hearing--and our own eyes attest
to the truth of the report--that in all quarters our fellow-citizens are
in spite of the orders of your highness still mercilessly dragged before
the courts of justice and condemned to death for religion. What the
league engaged on its part to do it has honestly fulfilled; it has, too,
to the utmost of its power endeavored to prevent the public preachings;
but it certainly is no wonder if the long delay of an answer from Madrid
fills the mind of the people with distrust, and if the disappointed
hopes of a general assembly of the states disposes them to put little
faith in any further assurances. The league has never allied, nor ever
felt any temptation to ally, itself with the enemies of the country. If
the arms of France were to appear in the provinces we, the confederates,
would be the first to mount and drive them back again. The league,
however, desires to be candid with your highness. We thought we read
marks of displeasure in your countenance; we see men in exclusive
possession of your favor who are notorious for their hatred against us.
We daily hear that persons are warned from associating with us, as with
those infected with the plague, while we are denounced with the arrival
of the king as with the opening of a day of judgment--what is more
natural than that such distrust shown to us should at last rouse our
own? That the attempt to blacken our league with the reproach of
treason, that the warlike preparations of the Duke of Savoy and of other
princes, which, according to common report, are directed against
ourselves; the negotiations of the king with the French court to obtain
a passage through that kingdom for a Spanish army, which is destined,
it is said, for the Netherlands--what wonder if these and similar
occurrences should have stimulated us to think in time of the means of
self-defence, and to strengthen ourselves by an alliance with our
friends beyond the frontier? On a general, uncertain, and vague rumor
we are accused of a share in this licentiousness of the Protestant mob;
but who is safe from general rumor? True it is, certainly, that of our
numbers some are Protestants, to whom religious toleration would be a
welcome boon; but even they have never forgotten what they owe to their
sovereign. It is not fear of the king's anger which instigated us to
hold this assembly. The king is good, and we still hope that he is also
just. It cannot, therefore, be pardon that we seek from him, and just
as little can it be oblivion that we solicit for our actions, which are
far from being the least considerable of the services we have at
different times rendered his majesty. Again, it is true, that the
delegates of the Lutherans and Calvinists are with us in St. Truyen;
nay, more, they have delivered to us a petition which, annexed to this
memorial, we here present to your highness. In it they offer to go
unarmed to their preachings if the league will tender its security to
them, and be willing to engage for a general meeting of the states. We
have thought it incumbent upon us to communicate both these matters to
you, for our guarantee can have no force unless it is at the same time
confirmed by your highness and some of your principal counsellors.
Among these no one can be so well acquainted with the circumstances of
our cause, or be so upright in intention towards us, as the Prince of
Orange and Counts Horn and Egmont. We gladly accept these three as
meditators if the necessary powers are given to them, and assurance is
afforded us that no troops will be enlisted without their knowledge.
This guarantee, however, we only require for a given period, before the
expiration of which it will rest with the king whether he will cancel or
confirm it for the future. If the first should be his will it will then
be but fair that time should be allowed us to place our persons and our
property in security; for this three weeks will be sufficient. Finally,
and in conclusion, we on our part also pledge ourselves to undertake
nothing new without the concurrence of those three persons, our
mediators."

The league would not have ventured to hold such bold language if it had
not reckoned on powerful support and protection; but the regent was as
little in a condition to concede their demands as she was incapable of
vigorously opposing them. Deserted in Brussels by most of her
counsellors of state, who had either departed to their provinces, or
under some pretext or other had altogether withdrawn from public
affairs; destitute as well of advisers as of money (the latter want had
compelled her, in the first instance, to appeal to the liberality of the
clergy; when this proved insufficient, to have recourse to a lottery),
dependent on orders from Spain, which were ever expected and never
received, she was at last reduced to the degrading expedient of entering
into a negotiation with the confederates in St. Truyen, that they should
wait twenty-four days longer for the king's resolution before they took
any further steps. It was certainly surprising that the king still
continued to delay a decisive answer to the petition, although it was
universally known that he had answered letters of a much later date, and
that the regent earnestly importuned him on this head. She had also, on
the commencement of the public preaching, immediately despatched the
Marquis of Bergen after the Baron of Montigny, who, as an eye-witness of
these new occurrences, could confirm her written statements, to move the
king to an earlier decision.


1566. In the meanwhile, the Flemish ambassador, Florence of Montigny,
had arrived in Madrid, where he was received with a great show of
consideration. His instructions were to press for the abolition of the
Inquisition and the mitigation of the edicts; the augmentation of the
council of state, and the incorporation with it of the two other
councils; the calling of a general assembly of the states, and, lastly,
to urge the solicitations of the regent for a personal visit from the
king. As the latter, however, was only desirous of gaining time,
Montigny was put off with fair words until the arrival of his coadjutor,
without whom the king was not willing to come to any final
determination. In the meantime, Montigny had every day and at any hour
that he desired, an audience with the king, who also commanded that on
all occasions the despatches of the duchess and the answers to them
should be communicated to himself. He was, too, frequently admitted to
the council for Belgian affairs, where he never omitted to call the
king's attention to the necessity of a general assembly of the states,
as being the only means of successfully meeting the troubles which had
arisen, and as likely to supersede the necessity of any other measure.
He moreover impressed upon him that a general and unreserved indemnity
for the past would alone eradicate the distrust, which was the source of
all existing complaints, and would always counteract the good effects of
every measure, however well advised. He ventured, from a thorough
acquaintance with circumstances and accurate knowledge of the character
of his countrymen, to pledge himself to the king for their inviolable
loyalty, as soon as they should be convinced of the honesty of his
intentions by the straightforwardness of his proceedings; while, on the
contrary, he assured him that there would be no hopes of it as long as
they were not relieved of the fear of being made the victims of the
oppression, and sacrificed to the envy of the Spanish nobles. At last
Montigny's coadjutor made his appearance, and the objects of their
embassy were made the subject of repeated deliberations.


1566. The king was at that time at his palace at Segovia, where also he
assembled his state council. The members were: the Duke of Alva; Don
Gomez de Figueroa; the Count of Feria; Don Antonio of Toledo, Grand
Commander of St. John; Don John Manriquez of Lara, Lord Steward to the
Queen; Ruy Gomez, Prince of Eboli and Count of Melito; Louis of Quixada,
Master of the Horse to the Prince; Charles Tyssenacque, President of the
Council for the Netherlands; Hopper, State Counsellor and Keeper of the
Seal; and State Counsellor Corteville. The sitting of the council was
protracted for several days; both ambassadors were in attendance, but
the king was not himself present. Here, then, the conduct of the
Belgian nobles was examined by Spanish eyes; step by step it was traced
back to the most distant source; circumstances were brought into
relation with others which, in reality, never had any connection; and
what had been the offspring of the moment was made out to be a
well-matured and far-sighted plan. All the different transactions and
attempts of the nobles which had been governed solely by chance, and to
which the natural order of events alone assigned their particular shape
and succession, were said to be the result of a preconcerted scheme for
introducing universal liberty in religion, and for placing all the power
of the state in the hands of the nobles. The first step to this end
was, it was said, the violent expulsion of the minister Granvella,
against whom nothing could be charged, except that he was in possession
of an authority which they preferred to exercise themselves. The second
step was sending Count Egmont to Spain to urge the abolition of the
Inquisition and the mitigation of the penal statutes, and to prevail on
the king to consent to an augmentation of the council of state. As,
however, this could not be surreptitiously obtained in so quiet a
manner, the attempt was made to extort it from the court by a third and
more daring step--by a formal conspiracy, the league of the Gueux. The
fourth step to the same end was the present embassy, which at length
boldly cast aside the mask, and by the insane proposals which they were
not ashamed to make to their king, clearly brought to light the object
to which all the preceding steps had tended. Could the abolition of the
Inquisition, they exclaimed, lead to anything less than a complete
freedom of belief? Would not the guiding helm of conscience be lost
with it? Did not the proposed "moderation" introduce an absolute
impunity for all heresies? What was the project of augmenting the
council of state and of suppressing the two other councils but a
complete remodelling of the government of the country in favor of
the nobles?--a general constitution for all the provinces of the
Netherlands? Again, what was this compact of the ecclesiastics in their
public preachings but a third conspiracy, entered into with the very
same objects which the league of the nobles in the council of state and
that of the Gueux had failed to effect?

However, it was confessed that whatever might be the source of the evil
it was not on that account the less important and imminent. The
immediate personal presence of the king in Brussels was, indubitably,
the most efficacious means speedily and thoroughly to remedy it. As,
however, it was already so late in the year, and the preparations alone
for the journey would occupy the short tine which was to elapse before
the winter set in; as the stormy season of the year, as well as the
danger from French and English ships, which rendered the sea unsafe, did
not allow of the king's taking the northern route, which was the shorter
of the two; as the rebels themselves meanwhile might become possessed of
the island of Walcheren, and oppose the lauding of the king; for all
these reasons, the journey was not to be thought of before the spring,
and in absence of the only complete remedy it was necessary to rest
satisfied with a partial expedient. The council, therefore, agreed to
propose to the king, in the first place, that he should recall the papal
Inquisition from the provinces and rest satisfied with that of the
bishops; in the second place, that a new plan for the mitigation of the
edicts should be projected, by which the honor of religion and of the
king would be better preserved than it had been in the transmitted
"moderation;" thirdly, that in order to reassure the minds of the
people, and to leave no means untried, the king should impart to the
regent full powers to extend free grace and pardon to all those who had
not already committed any heinous crime, or who had not as yet been
condemned by any judicial process; but from the benefit of this
indemnity the preachers and all who harbored them were to be excepted.
On the other hand, all leagues, associations, public assemblies, and
preachings were to be henceforth prohibited under heavy penalties; if,
however, this prohibition should be infringed, the regent was to be at
liberty to employ the regular troops and garrisons for the forcible
reduction of the refractory, and also, in case of necessity, to enlist
new troops, and to name the commanders over them according as should be
deemed advisable. Finally, it would have a good effect if his majesty
would write to the most eminent towns, prelates, and leaders of the
nobility, to some in his own hand, and to all in a gracious tone, in
order to stimulate their zeal in his service.

When this resolution of his council of state was submitted to the king
his first measure was to command public processions and prayers in all
the most considerable places of the kingdom and also of the Netherlands,
imploring the Divine guidance in his decision. He appeared in his own
person in the council of state in order to approve this resolution and
render it effective. He declared the general assembly of the states to
be useless and entirely abolished it. He, however, bound himself to
retain some German regiments in his pay, and, that they might serve with
the more zeal, to pay them their long-standing arrears. He commanded
the regent in a private letter to prepare secretly for war; three
thousand horse and ten thousand infantry were to be assembled by her in
Germany, to which end he furnished her with the necessary letters and
transmitted to her a sum of three hundred thousand gold florins. He
also accompanied this resolution with several autograph letters to some
private individuals and towns, in which he thanked them in the most
gracious terms for the zeal which they had already displayed in his
service and called upon them to manifest the same for the future.
Notwithstanding that he was inexorable on the most important point,
and the very one on which the nation most particularly insisted--the
convocation of the states, notwithstanding that his limited and
ambiguous pardon was as good as none, and depended too much on arbitrary
will to calm the public mind; notwithstanding, in fine, that he
rejected, as too lenient, the proposed "moderation," but which, on the
part of the people, was complained of as too severe; still he had this
time made an unwonted step in the favor of the nation; he had sacrificed
to it the papal Inquisition and left only the episcopal, to which it was
accustomed. The nation had found more equitable judges in the Spanish
council than they could reasonably have hoped for. Whether at another
time and under other circumstances this wise concession would have had
the desired effect we will not pretend to say. It came too late; when
(1566) the royal letters reached Brussels the attack on images had
already commenced.






                 BOOK IV.


               THE ICONOCLASTS.



The springs of this extraordinary occurrence are plainly not to be
sought for so far back as many historians affect to trace them. It is
certainly possible, and very probable, that the French Protestants did
industriously exert themselves to raise in the Netherlands a nursery for
their religion, and to prevent by all means in their power an amicable
adjustment of differences between their brethren in the faith in that
quarter and the King of Spain, in order to give that implacable foe of
their party enough to do in his own country. It is natural, therefore,
to suppose that their agents in the provinces left nothing undone to
encourage their oppressed brethren with daring hopes, to nourish their
animosity against the ruling church, and by exaggerating the oppression
under which they sighed to hurry them imperceptibly into illegal
courses. It is possible, too, that there were many among the
confederates who thought to help out their own lost cause by increasing
the number of their partners in guilt; who thought they could not
otherwise maintain the legal character of their league unless the
unfortunate results against which they had warned the king really came
to pass, and who hoped in the general guilt of all to conceal their own
individual criminality. It is, however, incredible that the outbreak of
the Iconoclasts was the fruit of a deliberate plan, preconcerted, as it
is alleged, at the convent of St. Truyen. It does not seem likely that
in a solemn assembly of so many nobles and warriors, of whom the greater
part were the adherents of popery, an individual should be found insane
enough to propose an act of positive infamy, which did not so much
injure any religious party in particular, as rather tread under foot all
respect for religion in general, and even all morality too, and which
could have been conceived only in the mind of the vilest reprobate.
Besides, this outrage was too sudden in its outbreak, too vehement in
its execution altogether, too monstrous to have been anything more than
the offspring of the moment in which it saw the light; it seemed to flow
so naturally from the circumstances which preceded it that it does not
require to be traced far back to remount to its origin.

A rude mob, consisting of the very dregs of the populace, made brutal by
harsh treatment, by sanguinary decrees which dogged them in every town,
scared from place to place and driven almost to despair, were compelled
to worship their God, and to hide like a work of darkness the universal,
sacred privilege of humanity. Before their eyes proudly rose the
temples of the dominant church, in which their haughty brethren indulged
in ease their magnificent devotion, while they themselves were driven
from the walls, expelled, too, by the weaker number perhaps, and forced,
here in the wild woods, under the burning heat of noon, in disgraceful
secrecy to worship the same God; cast out from civil society into a
state of nature, and reminded in one dread moment of the rights of that
state! The greater their superiority of numbers the more unnatural did
their lot appear; with wonder they perceive the truth. The free heaven,
the arms lying ready, the frenzy in their brains and fury in their
hearts combine to aid the suggestions of some preaching fanatic; the
occasion calls; no premeditation is necessary where all eyes at once
declare consent; the resolution is formed ere yet the word is scarcely
uttered; ready for any unlawful act, no one yet clearly knows what,
the furious band rushes onwards. The smiling prosperity of the hostile
religion insults the poverty of their own; the pomp of the authorized
temples casts contempt on their proscribed belief; every cross they set
up upon the highway, every image of the saints that they meet, is a
trophy erected over their own humiliation, and they all must be removed
by their avenging hands. Fanaticism suggests these detestable
proceedings, but base passions carry them into execution.


1566. The commencement of the attack on images took place in West
Flanders and Artois, in the districts between Lys and the sea. A
frantic herd of artisans, boatmen, and peasants, mixed with prostitutes,
beggars, vagabonds, and thieves, about three hundred in number,
furnished with clubs, axes, hammers, ladders, and cords (a few only
were provided with swords or fire arms), cast themselves, with fanatical
fury, into the villages and hamlets near St. Omer, and breaking open the
gates of such churches and cloisters as they find locked, overthrow
everywhere the altars, break to pieces the images of the saints, and
trample them under foot. With their excitement increased by its
indulgence, and reinforced by newcomers, they press on by the direct
road to Ypres, where they can count on the support of a strong body of
Calvinists. Unopposed, they break into the cathedral, and mounting on
ladders they hammer to pieces the pictures, hew down with axes the
pulpits and pews, despoil the altars of their ornaments, and steal the
holy vessels. This example was quickly followed in Menin, Comines,
Verrich, Lille, and Oudenard; in a few days the same fury spreads
through the whole of Flanders. At the very time when the first tidings
of this occurrence arrived Antwerp was swarming with a crowd of
houseless people, which the feast of the Assumption of the Virgin had
brought together in that city. Even the presence of the Prince of
Orange was hardly sufficient to restrain the licentious mob, who burned
to imitate the doings of their brethren in St. Omer; but an order from
the court which summoned him to Brussels, where the regent was just
assembling her council of state, in order to lay before them the royal
letters, obliged him to abandon Antwerp to the outrages of this band.
His departure was the signal for tumult. Apprehensive of the lawless
violence of which, on the very first day of the festival, the mob had
given indications in derisory allusions, the priests, after carrying
about the image of the Virgin for a short time, brought it for safety
to the choir, without, as formerly, setting it up in the middle of the
church. This incited some mischievous boys from among the people to pay
it a visit there, and jokingly inquire why she had so soon absented
herself from among them? Others mounting the pulpit, mimicked the
preacher, and challenged the papists to a dispute. A Roman Catholic
waterman, indignant at this jest, attempted to pull them down, and blows
were exchanged in the preacher's seat. Similar scenes occurred on the
following evening. The numbers increased, and many came already
provided with suspicious implements and secret weapons. At last it came
into the head of one of them to cry, "Long live the Gueux!" immediately
the whole band took up the cry, and the image of the Virgin was called
upon to do the same. The few Roman Catholics who were present, and who
had given up the hope of effecting anything against these desperadoes,
left the church after locking all the doors except one. So soon as they
found themselves alone it was proposed to sing one of the psalms in the
new version, which was prohibited by the government. While they were
yet singing they all, as at a given signal, rushed furiously upon the
image of the Virgin, piercing it with swords and daggers, and striking
off its head; thieves and prostitutes tore the great wax-lights from the
altar, and lighted them to the work. The beautiful organ of the church,
a masterpiece of the art of that period, was broken to pieces, all the
paintings were effaced, the statues smashed to atoms. A crucifix, the
size of life, which was set up between the two thieves, opposite the
high altar, an ancient and highly valued piece of workmanship, was
pulled to the ground with cords, and cut to pieces with axes, while the
two malefactors at its side were respectfully spared. The holy wafers
were strewed on the ground and trodden under foot; in the wine used for
the Lord's Supper, which was accidentally found there, the health of the
Gueux was drunk, while with the holy oil they rubbed their shoes. The
very tombs were opened, and the half-decayed corpses torn up and
trampled on. All this was done with as much wonderful regularity as if
each had previously had his part assigned to him; every one worked into
his neighbor's hands; no one, dangerous as the work was, met with
injury; in the midst of thick darkness, which the tapers only served to
render more sensible, with heavy masses falling on all sides, and though
on the very topmost steps of the ladders, they scuffled with each other
for the honors of demolition--yet no one suffered the least injury. In
spite of the many tapers which lighted them below in their villanous
work not a single individual was recognized. With incredible rapidity
was the dark deed accomplished; a number of men, at most a hundred,
despoiled in a few hours a temple of seventy altars--after St. Peter's
at Rome, perhaps the largest and most magnificent in Christendom.

The devastation of the cathedral did not content them; with torches and
tapers purloined from it they set out at midnight to perform a similar
work of havoc on the remaining churches, cloisters, and chapels. The
destructive hordes increased with every fresh exploit of infamy, and
thieves were allured by the opportunity. They carried away whatever
they found of value--the consecrated vessels, altar-cloths, money, and
vestments; in the cellars of the cloisters they drank to intoxication;
to escape greater indignities the monks and nuns abandoned everything to
them. The confused noises of these riotous acts had startled the
citizens from their first sleep; but night made the danger appear more
alarming than it really was, and instead of hastening to defend their
churches the citizens fortified themselves in their houses, and in
terror and anxiety awaited the dawn of morning. The rising sun at
length revealed the devastation which had been going on during the
night; but the havoc did not terminate with the darkness. Some churches
and cloisters still remained uninjured; the same fate soon overtook them
also. The work of destruction lasted three whole days. Alarmed at last
lest the frantic mob, when it could no longer find anything sacred to
destroy, should make a similar attack on lay property and plunder their
ware houses; and encouraged, too, by discovering how small was the
number of the depredators, the wealthier citizens ventured to show
themselves in arms at the doors of their houses. All the gates of the
town were locked but one, through which the Iconoclasts broke forth to
renew the same atrocities in the rural districts. On one occasion only
during all this time did the municipal officers venture to exert their
authority, so strongly were they held in awe by the superior power of
the Calvinists, by whom, as it was believed, this mob of miscreants
was hired. The injury inflicted by this work of devastation was
incalculable. In the church of the Virgin it was estimated at not less
than four hundred thousand gold florins. Many precious works of art
were destroyed; many valuable manuscripts; many monuments of importance
to history and to diplomacy were thereby lost. The city magistrate
ordered the plundered articles to be restored on pain of death; in
enforcing this restitution he was effectually assisted by the preachers
of the Reformers, who blushed for their followers. Much was in this
manner recovered, and the ringleaders of the mob, less animated,
perhaps, by the desire of plunder than by fanaticism and revenge, or
perhaps being ruled by some unseen head, resolved for the future to
guard against these excesses, and to make their attacks in regular bands
and in better order.

The town of Ghent, meanwhile, trembled for a like destiny. Immediately
on the first news of the outbreak of the Iconoclasts in Antwerp the
magistrate of the former town with the most eminent citizens had bound
themselves to repel by force the church spoilers; when this oath was
proposed to the commonalty also the voices were divided, and many
declared openly that they were by no means disposed to hinder so devout
a work. In this state of affairs the Roman Catholic clergy found it
advisable to deposit in the citadel the most precious movables of their
churches, and private families were permitted in like manner to provide
for the safety of offerings which had been made by their ancestors.
Meanwhile all the services were discontinued, the courts of justice were
closed; and, like a town in momentary danger of being stormed by the
enemy, men trembled in expectation of what was to come. At last an
insane band of rioters ventured to send delegates to the governor with
this impudent message: "They were ordered," they said, "by their chiefs
to take the images out of the churches, as had been done in the other
towns. If they were not opposed it should be done quietly and with as
little injury as possible, but otherwise they would storm the churches;"
nay, they went so far in their audacity as to ask the aid of the
officers of justice therein. At first the magistrate was astounded at
this demand; upon reflection, however, and in the hope that the presence
of the officers of law would perhaps restrain their excesses, he did not
scruple to grant their request.

In Tournay the churches were despoiled of their ornaments within sight
of the garrison, who could not be induced to march against the
Iconoclasts. As the latter had been told that the gold and silver
vessels and other ornaments of the church were buried underground, they
turned up the whole floor, and exposed, among others, the body of the
Duke Adolph of Gueldres, who fell in battle at the head of the
rebellious burghers of Ghent, and had been buried herein Tournay. This
Adolph had waged war against his father, and had dragged the vanquished
old man some miles barefoot to prison--an indignity which Charles the
Bold afterwards retaliated on him. And now, again, after more than half
a century fate avenged a crime against nature by another against
religion; fanaticism was to desecrate that which was holy in order to
expose once more to execration the bones of a parricide. Other
Iconoclasts from Valenciennes united themselves with those of Tournay to
despoil all the cloisters of the surrounding district, during which a
valuable library, the accumulation of centuries, was destroyed by fire.
The evil soon penetrated into Brabant, also Malines, Herzogenbusch,
Breda, and Bergen-op-Zoom experienced the same fate. The provinces,
Namur and Luxemburg, with a part of Artois and of Hainault, had alone
the good fortune to escape the contagion of those outrages. In the
short period of four or five days four hundred cloisters were plundered
in Brabant and Flanders alone.

The northern Netherlands were soon seized with the same mania which had
raged so violently through the southern. The Dutch towns, Amsterdam,
Leyden, and Gravenhaag, had the alternative of either voluntarily
stripping their churches of their ornaments, or of seeing them violently
torn from there; the determination of their magistrates saved Delft,
Haarlem, Gouda, and Rotterdam from the devastation. The same acts of
violence were practised also in the islands of Zealand; the town of
Utrecht and many places in Overyssel and Groningen suffered the same
storms. Friesland was protected by the Count of Aremberg, and Gueldres
by the Count of Megen from a like fate. An exaggerated report of these
disturbances which came in from the provinces spread the alarm to
Brussels, where the regent had just made preparations for an
extraordinary session of the council of state. Swarms of Iconoclasts
already penetrated into Brabant; and the metropolis, where they were
certain of powerful support, was threatened by them with a renewal of
the same atrocities then under the very eyes of majesty. The regent, in
fear for her personal safety, which, even in the heart of the country,
surrounded by provincial governors and Knights of the Fleece, she
fancied insecure, was already meditating a flight to Mons, in Hainault,
which town the Duke of Arschot held for her as a place of refuge, that
she might not be driven to any undignified concession by falling into
the power of the Iconoclasts. In vain did the knights pledge life and
blood for her safety, and urgently beseech her not to expose them to
disgrace by so dishonorable a flight, as though they were wanting in
courage or zeal to protect their princess; to no purpose did the town of
Brussels itself supplicate her not to abandon them in this extremity,
and vainly did the council of state make the most impressive
representations that so pusillanimous a step would not fail to encourage
still more the insolence of the rebels; she remained immovable in this
desperate condition. As messenger after messenger arrived to warn her
that the Iconoclasts were advancing against the metropolis, she issued
orders to hold everything in readiness for her flight, which was to take
place quietly with the first approach of morning. At break of day the
aged Viglius presented himself before her, whom, with the view of
gratifying the nobles, she had been long accustomed to neglect. He
demanded to know the meaning of the preparations he observed, upon which
she at last confessed that she intended to make her escape, and assured
him that he would himself do well to secure his own safety by
accompanying her. "It is now two years," said the old man to her, "that
you might have anticipated these results. Because I have spoken more
freely than your courtiers you have closed your princely ear to me,
which has been open only to pernicious suggestions." The regent allowed
that she had been in fault, and had been blinded by an appearance of
probity; but that she was now driven by necessity. "Are you resolved,"
answered Viglius, "resolutely to insist upon obedience to the royal
commands?" "I am," answered the duchess. "Then have recourse to the
great secret of the art of government, to dissimulation, and pretend to
join the princes until, with their assistance, you have repelled this
storm. Show them a confidence which you are far from feeling in your
heart. Make them take an oath to you that they will make common cause
in resisting these disorders. Trust those as your friends who show
themselves willing to do it; but be careful to avoid frightening away
the others by contemptuous treatment." Viglius kept the regent engaged
in conversation until the princes arrived, who he was quite certain
would in nowise consent to her flight. When they appeared he quietly
withdrew in order to issue commands to the town council to close the
gates of the city and prohibit egress to every one connected with the
court. This last measure effected more than all the representations had
done. The regent, who saw herself a prisoner in her own capital, now
yielded to the persuasions of the nobles, who pledged themselves to
stand by her to the last drop of blood. She made Count Mansfeld
commandant of the town, who hastily increased the garrison and armed her
whole court.

The state council was now held, who finally came to a resolution that it
was expedient to yield to the emergency; to permit the preachings in
those places where they had already commenced; to make known the
abolition of the papal Inquisition; to declare the old edicts against
the heretics repealed, and before all things to grant the required
indemnity to the confederate nobles, without limitation or condition.
At the same time the Prince of Orange, Counts Egmont and Horn, with some
others, were appointed to confer on this head with the deputies of the
league. Solemnly and in the most unequivocal terms the members of the
league were declared free from all responsibility by reason of the
petition which had been presented, and all royal officers and
authorities were enjoined to act in conformity with this assurance,
and neither now nor for the future to inflict any injury upon any
of the confederates on account of the said petition. In return,
the confederates bound themselves to be true and loyal servants of
his majesty, to contribute to the utmost of their power to the
re-establishment of order and the punishment of the Iconiclasts,
to prevail on the people to lay down their arms, and to afford
active assistance to the king against internal and foreign enemies.
Securities, formally drawn up and subscribed by the plenipotentiaries
of both sides, were exchanged between them; the letter of indemnity, in
particular, was signed by the duchess with her own hand and attested by
her seal. It was only after a severe struggle, and with tears in her
eyes, that the regent, as she tremblingly confessed to the king, was at
last induced to consent to this painful step. She threw the whole blame
upon the nobles, who had kept her a prisoner in Brussels and compelled
her to it by force. Above all she complained bitterly of the Prince of
Orange.

This business accomplished, all the governors hastened to their
provinces; Egmont to Flanders, Orange to Antwerp. In the latter city
the Protestants had seized the despoiled and plundered churches, and,
as if by the rights of war, had taken possession of them. The prince
restored them to their lawful owners, gave orders for their repair, and
re-established in them the Roman Catholic form of worship. Three of the
Iconoclasts, who had been convicted, paid the penalty of their sacrilege
on the gallows; some of the rioters were banished, and many others
underwent punishment. Afterwards he assembled four deputies of each
dialect, or nations, as they were termed, and agreed with them that, as
the approaching winter made preaching in the open air impossible, three
places within the town should be granted then, where they might either
erect new churches, or convert private houses to that purpose. That
they should there perform their service every Sunday and holiday, and
always at the same hour, but on no other days. If, however, no holiday
happened in the week, Wednesday should be kept by them instead. No
religious party should maintain more than two clergymen, and these must
be native Netherlanders, or at least have received naturalization from
some considerable town of the provinces. All should take an oath to
submit in civil matters to the municipal authorities and the Prince of
Orange. They should be liable, like the other citizens, to all imposts.
No one should attend sermons armed; a sword, however, should be allowed
to each. No preacher should assail the ruling religion from the pulpit,
nor enter upon controverted points, beyond what the doctrine itself
rendered unavoidable, or what might refer to morals. No psalm should be
sung by them out of their appointed district. At the election of their
preachers, churchwardens, and deacons, as also at all their other
consistorial meetings, a person from the government should on each
occasion be present to report their proceedings to the prince and the
magistrate. As to all other points they should enjoy the same
protection as the ruling religion. This arrangement was to hold good
until the king, with consent of the states, should determine otherwise;
but then it should be free to every one to quit the country with his
family and his property. From Antwerp the prince hastened to Holland,
Zealand, and Utrecht, in order to make there similar arrangements for
the restoration of peace; Antwerp, however, was, during his absence,
entrusted to the superintendence of Count Howstraten, who was a mild
man, and although an adherent of the league, had never failed in loyalty
to the king. It is evident that in this agreement the prince had far
overstepped the powers entrusted to him, and though in the service of
the king had acted exactly like a sovereign lord. But he alleged in
excuse that it would be far easier to the magistrate to watch these
numerous and powerful sects if he himself interfered in their worship,
and if this took place under his eyes, than if he were to leave the
sectarians to themselves in the open air.

In Gueldres Count Megen showed more severity, and entirely suppressed
the Protestant sects and banished all their preachers. In Brussels the
regent availed herself of the advantage derived from her personal
presence to put a stop to the public preaching, even outside the town.
When, in reference to this, Count Nassau reminded her in the name of the
confederates of the compact which had been entered into, and demanded if
the town of Brussels had inferior rights to the other towns? she
answered, if there were public preachings in Brussels before the treaty,
it was not her work if they were now discontinued. At the same time,
however, she secretly gave the citizens to understand that the first who
should venture to attend a public sermon should certainly be hung. Thus
she kept the capital at least faithful to her.

It was more difficult to quiet Tournay, which office was committed to
Count Horn, in the place of Montigny, to whose government the town
properly belonged. Horn commanded the Protestants to vacate the
churches immediately, and to content themselves with a house of worship
outside the walls. To this their preachers objected that the churches
were erected for the use of the people, by which terms, they said, not
the heads but the majority were meant. If they were expelled from the
Roman Catholic churches it was at least fair that they should be
furnished with money for erecting churches of their own. To this the
magistrate replied even if the Catholic party was the weaker it was
indisputably the better. The erection of churches should not be
forbidden them; they could not, however, after the injury which the town
had already suffered from their brethren, the Iconoclasts, very well
expect that it should be further burdened by the erection of their
churches. After long quarrelling on both sides, the Protestants
contrived to retain possession of some churches, which, for greater
security, they occupied with guards. In Valenciennes, too, the
Protestants refused submission to the conditions which were offered to
them through Philip St. Aldegonde, Baron of Noircarmes, to whom, in the
absence of the Marquis of Bergen, the government of that place was
entrusted. A reformed preacher, La Grange, a Frenchman by birth, who by
his eloquence had gained a complete command over them, urged them to
insist on having churches of their own within the town, and to threaten
in case of refusal to deliver it up to the Huguenots. A sense of the
superior numbers of the Calvinists, and of their understanding with the
Huguenots, prevented the governor adopting forcible measures against
them.

Count Egmont, also to manifest his zeal for the king's service, did
violence to his natural kind-heartedness. Introducing a garrison into
the town of Ghent, he caused some of the most refractory rebels to be
put to death. The churches were reopened, the Roman Catholic worship
renewed, and all foreigners, without exception, ordered to quit the
province. To the Calvinists, but to them alone, a site was granted
outside the town for the erection of a church. In return they were
compelled to pledge themselves to the most rigid obedience to the
municipal authorities, and to active co-operation in the proceedings
against the Iconoclasts. He pursued similar measures through all
Flanders and Artois. One of his noblemen, John Cassembrot, Baron of
Beckerzeel, and a leaguer, pursuing the Iconoclasts at the head of some
horsemen of the league, surprised a band of them just as they were about
to break into a town of Hainault, near Grammont, in Flanders, and took
thirty of them prisoners, of whom twenty-two were hung upon the spot,
and the rest whipped out of the province.

Services of such importance one would have thought scarcely deserved to
be rewarded with the displeasure of the king; what Orange, Egmont, and
Horn performed on this occasion evinced at least as much zeal and had
as beneficial a result as anything that was accomplished by Noircarmes,
Megen, and Aremberg, to whom the king vouchsafed to show his gratitude
both by words and deeds. But their zeal, their services came too late.
They had spoken too loudly against his edicts, had been too vehement in
their opposition to his measures, had insulted him too grossly in the
person of his minister Granvella, to leave room for forgiveness. No
time, no repentance, no atonement, however great, could efface this one
offence from the memory of their sovereign.

Philip lay sick at Segovia when the news of the outbreak of the
Iconoclasts and the uncatholic agreement entered into with the Reformers
reached him. At the same time the regent renewed her urgent entreaty
for his personal visit, of which also all the letters treated, which the
President Viglius exchanged with his friend Hopper. Many also of the
Belgian nobles addressed special letters to the king, as, for instance,
Egmont, Mansfeld, Megen, Aremberg, Noircarmes, and Barlaimont, in which
they reported the state of their provinces, and at once explained and
justified the arrangements they had made with the disaffected. Just at
this period a letter arrived from the German Emperor, in which he
recommended Philip to act with clemency towards his Belgian subjects,
and offered his mediation in the matter. He had also written direct to
the regent herself in Brussels, and added letters to the several leaders
of the nobility, which, however, were never delivered. Having conquered
the first anger which this hateful occurrence had excited, the king
referred the whole matter to his council.

The party of Granvella, which had the preponderance in the council, was
diligent in tracing a close connection between the behavior of the
Flemish nobles and the excesses of the church desecrators, which showed
itself in similarity of the demands of both parties, and especially the
time which the latter chose for their outbreak. In the same month,
they observed, in which the nobles had sent in their three articles of
pacification, the Iconoclasts had commenced their work; on the evening
of the very day that Orange quitted Antwerp the churches too were
plundered. During the whole tumult not a finger was lifted to take up
arms; all the expedients employed were invariably such as turned to the
advantage of the sects, while, on the contrary, all others were
neglected which tended to the maintenance of the pure faith. Many of
the Iconoclasts, it was further said, had confessed that all that they
had done was with the knowledge and consent of the princes; though
surely nothing was more natural, than for such worthless wretches to
seek to screen with great names a crime which they had undertaken solely
on their own account. A writing also was produced in which the high
nobility were made to promise their services to the "Gueux," to procure
the assembly of the states general, the genuineness of which, however,
the former strenuously denied. Four different seditious parties were,
they said, to be noticed in the Netherlands, which were all more or
less connected with one another, and all worked towards a common end.
One of these was those bands of reprobates who desecrated the churches;
a second consisted of the various sects who had hired the former to
perform their infamous acts; the "Gueux," who had raised themselves to
be the defenders of the sects were the third; and the leading nobles who
were inclined to the "Gueux" by feudal connections, relationship, and
friendship, composed the fourth. All, consequently, were alike fatally
infected, and all equally guilty. The government had not merely to
guard against a few isolated members; it had to contend with the whole
body. Since, then, it was ascertained that the people were the seduced
party, and the encouragement to rebellion came from higher quarters, it
would be wise and expedient to alter the plan hitherto adopted, which
now appeared defective in several respects. Inasmuch as all classes had
been oppressed without distinction, and as much of severity shown to the
lower orders as of contempt to the nobles, both had been compelled to
lend support to one another; a party had been given to the latter and
leaders to the former. Unequal treatment seemed an infallible expedient
to separate them; the mob, always timid and indolent when not goaded by
the extremity of distress, would very soon desert its adored protectors
and quickly learn to see in their fate well-merited retribution if only
it was not driven to share it with them. It was therefore proposed to
the king to treat the great multitude for the future with more leniency,
and to direct all measures of severity against the leaders of the
faction. In order, however, to avoid the appearance of a disgraceful
concession, it was considered advisable to accept the mediation of the
Emperor, and to impute to it alone and not to the justice of their
demands, that the king out of pure generosity had granted to his Belgian
subjects as much as they asked.

The question of the king's personal visit to the provinces was now again
mooted, and all the difficulties which had formerly been raised on this
head appeared to vanish before the present emergency. "Now," said
Tyssenacque and Hopper, "the juncture has really arrived at which the
king, according to his own declaration formerly made to Count Egmont,
will be ready to risk a thousand lives. To restore quiet to Ghent
Charles V. had undertaken a troublesome and dangerous journey through an
enemy's country. This was done for the sake of a single town; and now
the peace, perhaps even the possession, of all the United Provinces was
at stake." This was the opinion of the majority; and the journey of the
king was looked upon as a matter from which he could not possibly any
longer escape.

The question now was, whether he should enter upon it with a numerous
body of attendants or with few; and here the Prince of Eboli and Count
Figueroa were at issue with the Duke of Alva, as their private interests
clashed. If the king journeyed at the head of an army the presence of
the Duke of Alva would be indispensable, who, on the other hand, if
matters were peaceably adjusted, would be less required, and must make
room for his rivals. "An army," said Figueroa, who spoke first, "would
alarm the princes through whose territories it must march, and perhaps
even be opposed by them; it would, moreover, unnecessarily burden the
provinces for whose tranquillization it was intended, and add a new
grievance to the many which had already driven the people to such
lengths. It would press indiscriminately upon all of the king's
subjects, whereas a court of justice, peaceably administering its
office, would observe a marked distinction between the innocent and
the guilty. The unwonted violence of the former course would tempt the
leaders of the faction to take a more alarming view of their behavior,
in which wantonness and levity had the chief share, and consequently
induce them to proceed with deliberation and union; the thought of
having forced the king to such lengths would plunge them into despair,
in which they would be ready to undertake anything. If the king placed
himself in arms against the rebels he would forfeit the most important
advantage which he possessed over them, namely, his authority as
sovereign of the country, which would prove the more powerful in
proportion as he showed his reliance upon that alone. He would place
himself thereby, as it were, on a level with the rebels, who on their
side would not be at a loss to raise an army, as the universal hatred of
the Spanish forces would operate in their favor with the nation. By
this procedure the king would exchange the certain advantage which his
position as sovereign of the country conferred upon him for the
uncertain result of military operations, which, result as they might,
would of necessity destroy a portion of his own subjects. The rumor of
his hostile approach would outrun him time enough to allow all who were
conscious of a bad cause to place themselves in a posture of defence,
and to combine and render availing both their foreign and domestic
resources. Here again the general alarm would do them important
service; the uncertainty who would be the first object of this warlike
approach would drive even the less guilty to the general mass of the
rebels, and force those to become enemies to the king who otherwise
would never have been so. If, however, he was coming among them without
such a formidable accompaniment; if his appearance was less that of a
sanguinary judge than of an angry parent, the courage of all good men
would rise, and the bad would perish in their own security. They would
persuade themselves what had happened was unimportant; that it did not
appear to the king of sufficient moment to call for strong measures.
They wished if they could to avoid the chance of ruining, by acts of
open violence, a cause which might perhaps yet be saved; consequently,
by this quiet, peaceable method everything would be gained which by the
other would be irretrievably lost; the loyal subject would in no degree
be involved in the same punishment with the culpable rebel; on the
latter alone would the whole weight of the royal indignation descend.
Lastly, the enormous expenses would be avoided which the transport of a
Spanish army to those distant regions would occasion.

"But," began the Duke of Alva, "ought the injury of some few citizens to
be considered when danger impends over the whole? Because a few of the
loyally-disposed may suffer wrong are the rebels therefore not to be
chastised? The offence has been universal, why then should not the
punishment be the same? What the rebels have incurred by their actions
the rest have incurred equally by their supineness. Whose fault is it
but theirs that the former have so far succeeded? Why did they not
promptly oppose their first attempts? It is said that circumstances
were not so desperate as to justify this violent remedy; but who will
insure us that they will not be so by the time the king arrives,
especially when, according to every fresh despatch of the regent, all is
hastening with rapid strides to a-ruinous consummation? Is it a hazard
we ought to run to leave the king to discover on his entrance into the
provinces the necessity of his having brought with him a military force?
It is a fact only too well-established that the rebels have secured
foreign succors, which stand ready at their command on the first signal;
will it then be time to think of preparing for war when the enemy pass
the frontiers? Is it a wise risk to rely for aid upon the nearest
Belgian troops when their loyalty is so little to be depended upon? And
is not the regent perpetually reverting in her despatches to the fact
that nothing but the want of a suitable military force has hitherto
hindered her from enforcing the edicts, and stopping the progress of the
rebels? A well-disciplined and formidable army alone will disappoint
all their hopes of maintaining themselves in opposition to their lawful
sovereign, and nothing but the certain prospect of destruction will make
them lower their demands. Besides, without an adequate force, the king
cannot venture his person in hostile countries; he cannot enter into any
treaties with his rebellious subjects which would not be derogatory to
his honor."

The authority of the speaker gave preponderance to his arguments, and
the next question was, when the king should commence his journey and
what road he should take. As the voyage by sea was on every account
extremely hazardous, he had no other alternative but either to proceed
thither through the passes near Trent across. Germany, or to penetrate
from Savoy over the Apennine Alps. The first route would expose him to
the danger of the attack of the German Protestants, who were not likely
to view with indifference the objects of his journey, and a passage over
the Apennines was at this late season of the year not to be attempted.
Moreover, it would be necessary to send for the requisite galleys from
Italy, and repair them, which would take several months. Finally, as
the assembly of the Cortes of Castile, from which he could not well be
absent, was already appointed for December, the journey could not be
undertaken before the spring. Meanwhile the regent pressed for explicit
instructions how she was to extricate herself from her present
embarrassment, without compromising the royal dignity too far; and it
was necessary to do something in the interval till the king could
undertake to appease the troubles by his personal presence. Two
separate letters were therefore despatched to the duchess; one public,
which she could lay before the states and the council chambers, and one
private, which was intended for herself alone. In the first, the king
announced to her his restoration to health, and the fortunate birth of
the Infanta Clara Isabella Eugenia, afterwards wife of the Archduke
Albert of Austria and Princess of the Netherlands. He declared to her
his present firm intention to visit the Netherlands in person, for which
he was already making the necessary preparations. The assembling of the
states he refused, as he had previously done. No mention was made in
this letter of the agreement which she had entered into with the
Protestants and with the league, because he did not deem it advisable at
present absolutely to reject it, and he was still less disposed to
acknowledge its validity. On the other hand, he ordered her to
reinforce the army, to draw together new regiments from Germany, and to
meet the refractory with force. For the rest, he concluded, he relied
upon the loyalty of the leading nobility, among whom he knew many who
were sincere in their attachment both to their religion and their king.
In the secret letter she was again enjoined to do all in her power to
prevent the assembling of the states; but if the general voice should
become irresistible, and she was compelled to yield, she was at least to
manage so cautiously that the royal dignity should not suffer, and no
one learn the king's consent to their assembly.

While these consultations were held in Spain the Protestants in the
Netherlands made the most extensive use of the privileges which had been
compulsorily granted to them. The erection of churches wherever it was
permitted was completed with incredible rapidity; young and old, gentle
and simple, assisted in carrying stones; women sacrificed even their
ornaments in order to accelerate the work. The two religious parties
established in several towns consistories, and a church council of their
own, the first move of the kind being made in Antwerp, and placed their
form of worship on a well-regulated footing. It was also proposed to
raise a common fund by subscription to meet any sudden emergency of the
Protestant church in general. In Antwerp a memorial was presented by
the Calvinists of that town to the Count of Hogstraten, in which they
offered to pay three millions of dollars to secure the free exercise of
their religion. Many copies of this writing were circulated in the
Netherlands; and in order to stimulate others, many had ostentatiously
subscribed their names to large sums. Various interpretations of this
extravagant offer were made by the enemies of the Reformers, and all had
some appearance of reason. For instance, it was urged that under the
pretext of collecting the requisite sum for fulfilling this engagement
they hoped, without suspicion, to raise funds for military purposes; for
whether they should be called upon to contribute for or against they
would, it was thought, be more ready to burden themselves with a view of
preserving peace than for an oppressive and devasting war. Others saw
in this offer nothing more than a temporary stratagem of the Protestants
by which they hoped to bind the court and keep it irresolute until they
should have gained sufficient strength to confront it. Others again
declared it to be a downright bravado in order to alarm the regent, and
to raise the courage of their own party by the display of such rich
resources. But whatever was the true motive of this proposition, its
originators gained little by it; the contributions flowed in scantily
and slowly, and the court answered the proposal with silent contempt.
The excesses, too, of the Iconoclasts, far from promoting the cause of
the league and advancing the Protestants interests, had done irreparable
injury to both. The sight of their ruined churches, which, in the
language of Viglius, resembled stables more than houses of God, enraged
the Roman Catholics, and above all the clergy. All of that religion,
who had hitherto been members of the league, now forsook it, alleging
that even if it had not intentionally excited and encouraged the
excesses of the Iconoclasts it had beyond question remotely led to them.
The intolerance of the Calvinists who, wherever they were the ruling
party, cruelly oppressed the Roman Catholics, completely expelled the
delusion in which the latter had long indulged, and they withdrew their
support from a party from which, if they obtained the upper hand, their
own religion had so much cause to fear. Thus the league lost many of
its best members; the friends and patrons, too, which it had hitherto
found amongst the well-disposed citizens now deserted it, and its
character began perceptibly to decline. The severity with which some of
its members had acted against the Iconoclasts in order to prove their
good disposition towards the regent, and to remove the suspicion of any
connection with the malcontents, had also injured them with the people
who favored the latter, and thus the league was in danger of ruining
itself with both parties at the same time. The regent had no sooner
became acquainted with this change in the public mind than she devised a
plan by which she hoped gradually to dissolve the whole league, or at
least to enfeeble it through internal dissensions. For this end she
availed herself of the private letters which the king had addressed to
some of the nobles, and enclosed to her with full liberty to use them at
her discretion. These letters, which overflowed with kind expressions
were presented to those for whom they were intended, with an attempt at
secrecy, which designedly miscarried, so that on each occasion some one
or other of those who had received nothing of the sort got a hint of
them. In order to spread suspicion the more widely numerous copies of
the letters were circulated. This artifice attained its object. Many
members of the league began to doubt the honesty of those to whom such
brilliant promises were made; through fear of being deserted by their
principal members and supporters, they eagerly accepted the conditions
which were offered them by the regent, and evinced great anxiety for a
speedy reconciliation with the court. The general rumor of the
impending visit of the king, which the regent took care to have widely
circulated, was also of great service to her in this matter; many who
could not augur much good to themselves from the royal presence did not
hesitate to accept a pardon, which, perhaps, for what they could tell,
was offered them for the last time. Among those who thus received
private letters were Egmont and Prince of Orange. Both had complained
to the king of the evil reports with which designing persons in Spain
had labored to brand their names, and to throw suspicion on their
motives and intentions; Egmont, in particular, with the honest
simplicity which was peculiar to his character, had asked the monarch
only to point out to him what he most desired, to determine the
particular action by which his favor could be best obtained and zeal in
his service evinced, and it should, he assured him, be done. The king
in reply caused the president, Von Tyssenacque, to tell him that he
could do nothing better to refute his traducers than to show perfect
submission to the royal orders, which were so clearly and precisely
drawn up, that no further exposition of them was required, nor any
particular instruction. It was the sovereign's part to deliberate, to
examine, and to decide; unconditionally to obey was the duty of the
subject; the honor of the latter consisted in his obedence. It did not
become a member to hold itself wiser than the head. He was assuredly to
be blamed for not having done his utmost to curb the unruliness of his
sectarians; but it was even yet in his power to make up for past
negligence by at least maintaining peace and order until the actual
arrival of the king. In thus punishing Count Egmont with reproofs like
a disobedient child, the king treated him in accordance with what he
knew of his character; with his friend he found it necessary to call in
the aid of artifice and deceit. Orange, too, in his letter, had alluded
to the suspicions which the king entertained of his loyalty and
attachment, but not, like Egmont, in the vain hope of removing them; for
this, he had long given up; but in order to pass from these complaints
to a request for permission to resign his offices. He had already
frequently made this request to the regent, but had always received from
her a refusal, accompanied with the strongest assurance of her regard.
The king also, to whom he now at last addressed a direct application,
returned him the same answer, graced with similar strong assurances of
his satisfaction and gratitude. In particular he expressed the high
satisfaction he entertained of his services, which he had lately
rendered the crown in Antwerp, and lamented deeply that the private
affairs of the prince (which the latter had made his chief plea for
demanding his dismissal) should have fallen into such disorder; but
ended with the declaration that it was impossible for him to dispense
with his valuable services at a crisis which demanded the increase,
rather than diminution, of his good and honest servants. He had
thought, he added, that the prince entertained a better opinion of him
than to suppose him capable of giving credit to the idle talk of certain
persons, who were friends neither to the prince nor to himself. But, at
the same time, to give him a proof of his sincerity, he complained to
him in confidence of his brother, the Count of Nassau, pretended to ask
his advice in the matter, and finally expressed a wish to have the count
removed for a period from the Netherlands.

But Philip had here to do with a head which in cunning was superior to
his own. The Prince of Orange had for a long time held watch over him
and his privy council in Madrid and Segovia, through a host of spies,
who reported to him everything of importance that was transacted there.
The court of this most secret of all despots had become accessible to
his intriguing spirit and his money; in this manner he had gained
possession of several autograph letters of the regent, which she had
secretly written to Madrid, and had caused copies to be circulated in
triumph in Brussels, and in a measure under her own eyes, insomuch that
she saw with astonishment in everybody's hands what she thought was
preserved with so much care, and entreated the king for the future to
destroy her despatches immediately they were read. William's vigilance
did not confine itself simply to the court of Spain; he had spies in
France, and even at more distant courts. He is also charged with not
being over scrupulous as to the means by which he acquired his
intelligence. But the most important disclosure was made by an
intercepted letter of the Spanish ambassador in France, Francis Von
Alava, to the duchess, in which the former descanted on the fair
opportunity which was now afforded to the king, through the guilt of
the Netherlandish people, of establishing an arbitrary power in that
country. He therefore advised her to deceive the nobles by the very
arts which they had hitherto employed against herself, and to secure
them through smooth words and an obliging behavior. The king, he
concluded, who knew the nobles to be the hidden springs of all the
previous troubles, would take good care to lay hands upon them at the
first favorable opportunity, as well as the two whom he had already in
Spain; and did not mean to let them go again, having sworn to make an
example in them which should horrify the whole of Christendom, even if
it should cost him his hereditary dominions. This piece of evil news
was strongly corroborated by the letters which Bergen and Montigny wrote
from Spain, and in which they bitterly complained of the contemptuous
behavior of the grandees and the altered deportment of the monarch
towards them; and the Prince of Orange was now fully sensible what he
had to expect from the fair promises of the king.

The letter of the minister, Alava, together with some others from Spain,
which gave a circumstantial account of the approaching warlike visit of
the king, and of his evil intentions against the nobles, was laid by the
prince before his brother, Count Louis of Nassau, Counts Egmont, Horn,
and Hogstraten, at a meeting at Dendermonde in Flanders, whither these
five knights had repaired to confer on the measures necessary for their
security. Count Louis, who listened only to his feelings of
indignation, foolhardily maintained that they ought, without loss of
time, to take up arms and seize some strongholds. That they ought at
all risks to prevent the king's armed entrance into the provinces. That
they should endeavor to prevail on the Swiss, the Protestant princes of
Germany, and the Huguenots to arm and obstruct his passage through their
territories; and if, notwithstanding, he should force his way through
these impediments, that the Flemings should meet him with an army on the
frontiers. He would take upon himself to negotiate a defensive alliance
in France, in Switzerland, and in Germany, and to raise in the latter
empire four thousand horse, together with a proportionate body of
infantry. Pretexts would not be wanting for collecting the requisite
supplies of money, and the merchants of the reformed sect would, he felt
assured, not fail them. But William, more cautious and more wise,
declared himself against this proposal, which, in the execution, would
be exposed to numberless difficulties, and had as yet nothing to justify
it. The Inquisition, he represented, was in fact abolished, the edicts
were nearly sunk into oblivion, and a fair degree of religious liberty
accorded. Hitherto, therefore, there existed no valid or adequate
excuse for adopting this hostile method; he did not doubt, however,
that one would be presented to them before long, and in good time for
preparation. His own opinion consequently was that they should await
this opportunity with patience, and in the meanwhile still keep a
watchful eye upon everything, and contrive to give the people a hint of
the threatened danger, that they might be ready to act if circumstances
should call for their co-operation. If all present had assented to the
opinion of the Prince of Orange, there is no doubt but so powerful a
league, formidable both by the influence and the high character of its
members, would have opposed obstacles to the designs of the king which
would have compelled him to abandon them entirely. But the
determination of the assembled knights was much shaken by the
declaration with which Count Egmont surprised them. "Rather," said he,
"may all that is evil befall me than that I should tempt fortune so
rashly. The idle talk of the Spaniard, Alava, does not move me; how
should such a person be able to read the mind of a sovereign so reserved
as Philip, and to decipher his secrets? The intelligence which Montigny
gives us goes to prove nothing more than that the king has a very
doubtful opinion of our zeal for his service, and believes he has cause
to distrust our loyalty; and for this I for my part must confess that
we have given him only too much cause. And it is my serious purpose,
by redoubling my zeal, to regain his good opinion, and by my future
behavior to remove, if possible, the distrust which my actions have
hitherto excited. How could I tear myself from the arms of my numerous
and dependent family to wander as an exile at foreign courts, a burden
to every one who received me, the slave of every one who condescended to
assist me, a servant of foreigners, in order to escape a slight degree
of constraint at home? Never can the monarch act unkindly towards a
servant who was once beloved and dear to him, and who has established a
well-grounded claim to his gratitude. Never shall I be persuaded that
he who has expressed such favorable, such gracious sentiments towards
his Belgian subjects, and with his own mouth gave me such emphatic,
such solemn assurances, can be now devising, as it is pretended, such
tyrannical schemes against them. If we do but restore to the country
its former repose, chastise the rebels, and re-establish the Roman
Catholic form of worship wherever it has been violently suppressed,
then, believe me, we shall hear no more of Spanish troops. This is the
course to which I now invite you all by my counsel and my example, and
to which also most of our brethren already incline. I, for my part,
fear nothing from the anger of the king. My conscience acquits me.
I trust my fate and fortunes to his justice and clemency." In vain did
Nassau, Horn, and Orange labor to shake his resolution, and to open his
eyes to the near and inevitable danger. Egmont was really attached to
the king; the royal favors, and the condescension with which they were
conferred, were still fresh in his remembrance. The attentions with
which the monarch had distinguished him above all his friends had not
failed of their effect. It was more from false shame than from party
spirit that he had defended the cause of his countrymen against him;
more from temperament and natural kindness of heart than from tried
principles that he had opposed the severe measures of the government.
The love of the nation, which worshipped him as its idol, carried him
away. Too vain to renounce a title which sounded so agreeable, he had
been compelled to do something to deserve it; but a single look at his
family, a harsher designation applied to his conduct, a dangerous
inference drawn from it, the mere sound of crime, terrified him from his
self-delusion, and scared him back in haste and alarm to his duty.

Orange's whole plan was frustrated by Egmont's withdrawal. The latter
possessed the hearts of the people and the confidence of the army,
without which it was utterly impossible to undertake anything effective.
The rest had reckoned with so much certainty upon him that his
unexpected defection rendered the whole meeting nugatory. They
therefore separated without coming to a determination. All who had met
in Dendermonde were expected in the council of state in Brussels; but
Egmont alone repaired thither. The regent wished to sift him on the
subject of this conference, but she could extract nothing further from
him than the production of the letter of Alava, of which he had
purposely taken a copy, and which, with the bitterest reproofs, he laid
before her. At first she changed color at sight of it, but quickly
recovering herself, she boldly declared that it was a forgery. "How can
this letter," she said, "really come from Alava, when I miss none? And
would he who pretends to have intercepted it have spared the other
letters? Nay, how can it be true, when not a single packet has
miscarried, nor a single despatch failed to come to hand? How, too,
can it be thought likely that the king would have made Alava master
of a secret which he has not communicated even to me?"




                CIVIL WAR

1566. Meanwhile the regent hastened to take advantage of the schism
amongst the nobles to complete the ruin of the league, which was already
tottering under the weight of internal dissensions. Without loss of
time she drew from Germany the troops which Duke Eric of Brunswick was
holding in readiness, augmented the cavalry, and raised five regiments
of Walloons, the command of which she gave to Counts Mansfeld, Megen,
Aremberg, and others. To the prince, likewise, she felt it necessary to
confide troops, both because she did not wish, by withholding them
pointedly, to insult him, and also because the provinces of which he was
governor were in urgent need of them; but she took the precaution of
joining with him a Colonel Waldenfinger, who should watch all his steps
and thwart his measures if they appeared dangerous. To Count Egmont the
clergy in Flanders paid a contribution of forty thousand gold florins
for the maintenance of fifteen hundred men, whom he distributed among
the places where danger was most apprehended. Every governor was
ordered to increase his military force, and to provide himself with
ammunition. These energetic preparations, which were making in all
places, left no doubt as to the measures which the regent would adopt in
future. Conscious of her superior force, and certain of this important
support, she now ventured to change her tone, and to employ quite
another language with the rebels. She began to put the most arbitrary
interpretation on the concessions which, through fear and necessity, she
had made to the Protestants, and to restrict all the liberties which she
had tacitly granted them to the mere permission of their preaching. All
other religious exercises and rites, which yet appeared to be involved
in the former privilege, were by new edicts expressly forbidden, and all
offenders in such matters were to be proceeded against as traitors. The
Protestants were permitted to think differently from the ruling church
upon the sacrament, but to receive it differently was a crime; baptism,
marriage, burial, after their fashion, were probibited under pain of
death. It was a cruel mockery to allow them their religion, and forbid
the exercise of it; but this mean artifice of the regent to escape from
the obligation of her pledged word was worthy of the pusillanimity with
which she had submitted to its being extorted from her. She took
advantage of the most trifling innovations and the smallest excesses to
interrupt the preachings; and some of the preachers, under the charge of
having performed their office in places not appointed to them, were
brought to trial, condemned, and executed. On more than one occasion
the regent publicly declared that the confederates had taken unfair
advantage of her fears, and that she did not feel herself bound by an
engagement which had been extorted from her by threats.

Of all the Belgian towns which had participated in the insurrection of
the Iconoclasts none had caused the regent so much alarm as the town of
Valenciennes, in Hainault. In no other was the party of the Calvinists
so powerful, and the spirit of rebellion for which the province of
Hainault had always made itself conspicuous, seemed to dwell here as in
its native place. The propinquity of France, to which, as well by
language as by manners, this town appeared to belong, rather than to the
Netherlands, had from the first led to its being governed with great
mildness and forbearance, which, however, only taught it to feel its own
importance. At the last outbreak of the church-desecrators it had been
on the point of surrendering to the Huguenots, with whom it maintained
the closest understanding. The slightest excitement night renew this
danger. On this account Valenciennes was the first town to which the
regent proposed, as soon as should be in her power, to send a strong
garrison. Philip of Noircarmes, Baron of St. Aldegonde, Governor of
Hainault in the place of the absent Marquis of Bergen, had received this
charge, and now appeared at the head of an army before its walls.
Deputies came to meet him on the part of the magistrate from the town,
to petition against the garrison, because the Protestant citizens, who
were the superior number, had declared against it. Noircarnes
acquainted them with the will of the regent, and gave them the choice
between the garrison or a siege. He assured them that not more than
four squadrons of horse and six companies of foot should be imposed upon
the town; and for this he would give them his son as a hostage. These
terms were laid before the magistrate, who, for his part, was much
inclined to accept them. But Peregrine Le Grange, the preacher, and the
idol of the populace, to whom it was of vital importance to prevent a
submission of which he would inevitably become the victim, appeared at
the head of his followers, and by his powerful eloquence excited the
people to reject the conditions. When their answer was brought to
Noircarmes, contrary to all law of nations, he caused the messengers to
be placed in irons, and carried them away with him as prisoners; he was,
however, by express command of the regent, compelled to set them free
again. The regent, instructed by secret orders from Madrid to exercise
as much forbearance as possible, caused the town to be repeatedly
summoned to receive the garrison; when, however, it obstinately
persisted in its refusal, it was declared by public edict to be in
rebellion, and Noircarmes was authorized to commence the siege in form.
The other provinces were forbidden to assist this rebellious town with
advice, money, or arms. All the property contained in it was
confiscated. In order to let it see the war before it began in earnest,
and to give it time for rational reflection, Noircarmes drew together
troops from all Hainault and Cambray (1566), took possession of St.
Amant, and placed garrisons in all adjacent places.

The line of conduct adopted towards Valenciennes allowed the other towns
which were similarly situated to infer the fate which was intended for
them also, and at once put the whole league in motion. An army of the
Gueux, between three thousand and four thousand strong, which was
hastily collected from the rabble of fugitives, and the remaining bands
of the Iconoclasts, appeared in the territories of Tournay and Lille, in
order to secure these two towns, and to annoy the enemy at Valenciennes.
The commandant of Lille was fortunate enough to maintain that place by
routing a detachment of this army, which, in concert with the Protestant
inhabitants, had made an attempt to get possession of it. At the same
time the army of the Gueux, which was uselessly wasting its time at
Lannoy, was surprised by Noircarmes and almost entirely annihilated.
The few who with desperate courage forced their way through the enemy,
threw themselves into the town of Tournay, which was immediately
summoned by the victor to open its gates and admit a garrison. Its
prompt obedience obtained for it a milder fate. Noircarmes contented
himself with abolishing the Protestant consistory, banishing the
preachers, punishing the leaders of the rebels, and again
re-establishing the Roman Catholic worship, which he found almost
entirely suppressed. After giving it a steadfast Roman Catholic as
governor, and leaving in it a sufficient garrison, he again returned
with his victorious army to Valenciennes to press the siege.

This town, confident in its strength, actively prepared for defence,
firmly resolved to allow things to come to extremes before it
surrendered. The inhabitants had not neglected to furnish themselves
with ammunition and provisions for a long siege; all who could carry
arms (the very artisans not excepted), became soldiers; the houses
before the town, and especially the cloisters, were pulled down, that
the besiegers might not avail themselves of them to cover their attack.
The few adherents of the crown, awed by the multitude, were silent; no
Roman Catholic ventured to stir himself. Anarchy and rebellion had
taken the place of good order, and the fanaticism of a foolhardy priest
gave laws instead of the legal dispensers of justice. The male
population was numerous, their courage confirmed by despair, their
confidence unbounded that the siege would be raised, while their hatred
against the Roman Catholic religion was excited to the highest pitch.
Many had no mercy to expect; all abhorred the general thraldom of an
imperious garrison. Noircarmes, whose army had become formidable
through the reinforcements which streamed to it from all quarters, and
was abundantly furnished with all the requisites for a long blockade,
once more attempted to prevail on the town by gentle means, but in vain.
At last he caused the trenches to be opened and prepared to invest the
place.

In the meanwhile the position of the Protestants had grown as much worse
as that of the regent had improved. The league of the nobles had
gradually melted away to a third of its original number. Some of its
most important defenders, Count Egmont, for instance, had gone over to
the king; the pecuniary contributions which had been so confidently
reckoned upon came in but slowly and scantily; the zeal of the party
began perceptibly to cool, and the close of the fine season made it
necessary to discontinue the public preachings, which, up to this time,
had been continued. These and other reasons combined induced the
declining party to moderate its demands, and to try every legal
expedient before it proceeded to extremities. In a general synod of the
Protestants, which was held for this object in Antwerp, and which was
also attended by some of the confederates, it was resolved to send
deputies to the regent to remonstrate with her upon this breach of
faith, and to remind her of her compact. Brederode undertook this
office, but was obliged to submit to a harsh and disgraceful rebuff, and
was shut out of Brussels. He had now recourse to a written memorial, in
which,--in the name of the whole league, he complained that the duchess
had, by violating her word, falsified in sight of all the Protestants
the security given by the league, in reliance on which all of them had
laid down their arms; that by her insincerity she had undone all the
good which the confederates had labored to effect; that she had sought
to degrade the league in the eyes of the people, had excited discord
among its members, and had even caused many of them to be persecuted as
criminals. He called upon her to recall her late ordinances, which
deprived the Protestants of the free exercise of their religion, but
above all to raise the siege of Valenciennes, to disband the troops
newly enlisted, and ended by assuring her that on these conditions and
these alone the league would be responsible for the general
tranquillity.

To this the regent replied in a tone very different from her previous
moderation. "Who these confederates are who address me in this memorial
is, indeed, a mystery to me. The confederates with whom I had formerly
to do, for ought I know to the contrary, have dispersed. All at least
cannot participate in this statement of grievances, for I myself know of
many, who, satisfied in all their demands, have returned to their duty.
But still, whoever he may be, who without authority and right, and
without name addresses me, he has at least given a very false
interpretation to my word if he asserts that I guaranteed to the
Protestants complete religious liberty. No one can be ignorant how
reluctantly I was induced to permit the preachings in the places where
they had sprung up unauthorized, and this surely cannot be counted for a
concession of freedom in religion. Is it likely that I should have
entertained the idea of protecting these illegal consistories, of
tolerating this state within a state? Could I forget myself so far as
to grant the sanction of law to an objectionable sect; to overturn all
order in the church and in the state, and abominably to blaspheme my
holy religion? Look to him who has given you such permission, but you
must not argue with me. You accuse me of having violated the agreement
which gave you impunity and security. The past I am willing to look
over, but not what may be done in future. No advantage was to be taken
of you on account of the petition of last April, and to the best of my
knowledge nothing of the kind has as yet been done; but whoever again
offends in the same way against the majesty of the king must be ready to
bear the consequences of his crime. In fine, how can you presume to
remind me of an agreement which you have been the first to break? At
whose instigation were the churches plundered, the images of the saints
thrown down, and the towns hurried into rebellion? Who formed alliances
with foreign powers, set on foot illegal enlistments, and collected
unlawful taxes from the subjects of the king? These are the reasons
which have impelled me to draw together my troops, and to increase the
severity of the edicts. Whoever now asks me to lay down my arms cannot
mean well to his country or his king, and if ye value your own lives,
look to it that your own actions acquit you, instead of judging mine."

All the hopes which the confederates might have entertained of an
amicable adjustment sank with this high-toned declaration. Without
being confident of possessing powerful support, the regent would not,
they argued, employ such language. An army was in the field, the enemy
was before Valenciennes, the members who were the heart of the league
had abandoned it, and the regent required unconditional submission.
Their cause was now so bad that open resistance could not make it worse.
If they gave themselves up defenceless into the hands of their
exasperated sovereign their fate was certain; an appeal to arms could at
least make it a matter of doubt; they, therefore, chose the latter, and
began seriously to take steps for their defence. In order to insure the
assistance of the German Protestants, Louis of Nassau attempted to
persuade the towns of Amsterdam, Antwerp, Tournay, and Valenciennes to
adopt the confession of Augsburg, and in this manner to seal their
alliance with a religious union. But the proposition was not
successful, because the hatred of the Calvinists to the Lutherans
exceeded, if possible, that which they bore to popery. Nassau also
began in earnest to negotiate for supplies from France, the Palatinate,
and Saxony. The Count of Bergen fortified his castles; Brederode threw
himself with a small force into his strong town of Vianne on the Leek,
over which he claimed the rights of sovereignty, and which he hastily
placed in a state of defense, and there awaited a reinforcement from the
league, and the issue of Nassua's negotiations. The flag of war was now
unfurled, everywhere the drum was heard to beat; in all parts troops
were seen on the march, contributions collected, and soldiers enlisted.
The agents of each party often met in the same place, and hardly had the
collectors and recruiting officers of the regent quitted a town when it
had to endure a similar visit from the agents of the league.

From Valenciennes the regent directed her attention to Herzogenbusch,
where the Iconoclasts had lately committed fresh excesses, and the party
of the Protestants had gained a great accession of strength. In order
to prevail on the citizens peaceably to receive a garrison, she sent
thither, as ambassador, the Chancellor Scheiff, from Brabant, with
counsellor Merode of Petersheim, whom she appointed governor of the
town; they were instructed to secure the place by judicious means, and
to exact from the citizens a new oath of allegiance. At the same time
the Count of Megen, who was in the neighborhood with a body of troops,
was ordered to support the two envoys in effecting their commission,
and to afford the means of throwing in a garrison immediately. But
Brederode, who obtained information of these movements in Viane, had
already sent thither one of his creatures, a certain Anton von Bomber,--
a hot Calvinist, but also a brave soldier, in order to raise the courage
of his party, and to frustrate the designs of the regent. This Bomberg
succeeded in getting possession of the letters which the chancellor
brought with him from the duchess, and contrived to substitute in their
place counterfeit ones, which, by their harsh and imperious language,
were calculated to exasperate the minds of the citizens. At the same
time he attempted to throw suspicion on both the ambassadors of the
duchess as having evil designs upon the town. In this he succeeded so
well with the mob that in their mad fury they even laid hands on the
ambassadors and placed them in confinement. He himself, at the head of
eight thousand men, who had adopted him as their leader, advanced
against the Count of Megen, who was moving in order of battle, and gave
him so warm a reception, with some heavy artillery, that he was
compelled to retire without accomplishing his object. The regent now
sent an officer of justice to demand the release of her ambassadors, and
in case of refusal to threaten the place with siege; but Bomberg with
his party surrounded the town hall and forced the magistrate to deliver
to him the key of the town. The messenger of the regent was ridiculed
and dismissed, and an answer sent through him that the treatment of the
prisoners would depend upon Brederode's orders. The herald, who was
remaining outside before the town, now appeared to declare war against
her, which, however, the chancellor prevented.

After his futile attempt on Herzogenhusch the Count of Megen threw
himself into Utrecht in order to prevent the execution of a design which
Count Brederode had formed against that town. As it had suffered much
from the army of the confederates, which was encamped in its immediate
neighborhood, near Viane, it received Megen with open arms as its
protector, and conformed to all the alterations which he made in the
religious worship. Upon this he immediately caused a redoubt to be
thrown up on the bank of the Leek, which would command Viane.
Brederode, not disposed to await his attack, quitted that rendezvous
with the best part of his army and hastened to Amsterdam.

However unprofitably the Prince of Orange appeared to be losing his
time in Antwerp during these operations he was, nevertheless, busily
employed. At his instigation the league had commenced recruiting, and
Brederode had fortified his castles, for which purpose he himself
presented him with three cannons which he had had cast at Utrecht.
His eye watched all the movements of the court, and he kept the league
warned of the towns which were next menaced with attack. But his chief
object appeared to be to get possession of the principal places in the
districts under his own government, to which end he with all his power
secretly assisted Brederode's plans against Utrecht and Amsterdam. The
most important place was the Island of Walcheren, where the king was
expected to land; and he now planned a scheme for the surprise of this
place, the conduct of which was entrusted to one of the confederate
nobles, an intimate friend of the Prince of Orange, John of Marnix,
Baron of Thoulouse, and brother of Philip of Aldegonde.


1567. Thoulouse maintained a secret understanding with the late mayor
of Middleburg, Peter Haak, by which he expected to gain an opportunity
of throwing a garrison into Middleburg and Flushing. The recruiting,
however, for this undertaking, which was set on foot in Antwerp, could
not be carried on so quietly as not to attract the notice of the
magistrate. In order, therefore, to lull the suspicions of the latter,
and at the same time to promote the success of the scheme, the prince
caused the herald by public proclamation to order all foreign soldiers
and strangers who were in the service of the state, or employed in other
business, forthwith to quit the town. He might, say his adversaries, by
closing the gates have easily made himself master of all these suspected
recruits; but be expelled them from the town in order to drive them the
more quickly to the place of their destination. They immediately
embarked on the Scheldt, and sailed down to Rammekens; as, however, a
market-vessel of Antwerp, which ran into Flushing a little before them
had given warning of their design they were forbidden to enter the port.
They found the same difficulty at Arnemuiden, near Middleburg, although
the Protestants in that place exerted themselves to raise an
insurrection in their favor. Thoulouse, therefore, without having
accomplished anything, put about his ships and sailed back down the
Scheldt as far as Osterweel, a quarter of a mile from Antwerp, where he
disembarked his people and encamped on the shore, with the hope of
getting men from Antwerp, and also in order to revive by his presence
the courage of his party, which had been cast down by the proceedings of
the magistrate. By the aid of the Calvinistic clergy, who recruited for
him, his little army increased daily, so that at last he began to be
formidable to the Antwerpians, whose whole territory he laid waste. The
magistrate was for attacking him here with the militia, which, however,
the Prince of Orange successfully opposed by the, pretext that it would
not be prudent to strip the town of soldiers.

Meanwhile the regent had hastily brought together a small army under the
command of Philip of Launoy, which moved from Brussels to Antwerp by
forced marches. At the same time Count Megen managed to keep the army
of the Gueux shut up and employed at Viane, so that it could neither
hear of these movements nor hasten to the assistance of its
confederates. Launoy, on his arrival attacked by surprise the dispersed
crowds, who, little expecting an enemy, had gone out to plunder, and
destroyed them in one terrible carnage. Thoulouse threw himself with
the small remnant of his troops into a country house, which had served
him as his headquarters, and for a long time defended himself with the
courage of despair, until Launoy, finding it impossible to dislodge him,
set fire to the house. The few who escaped the flames fell on the
swords of the enemy or were drowned in the Scheldt. Thoulouse himself
preferred to perish in the flames rather than to fall into the hands of
the enemy. This victory, which swept off more than a thousand of the
enemy, was purchased by the conqueror cheaply enough, for he did not
lose more than two men. Three hundred of the leaguers who surrendered
were cut down without mercy on the spot, as a sally from Antwerp was
momentarily dreaded.

Before the battle actually commenced no anticipation of such an event
had been entertained at Antwerp. The Prince of Orange, who had got
early information of it, had taken the precaution the day before of
causing the bridge which unites the town with Osterweel to be destroyed,
in order, as he gave out, to prevent the Calvinists within the town
going out to join the army of Thoulouse. A more probable motive seems
to have been a fear lest the Catholics should attack the army of the
Gueux general in the rear, or lest Launoy should prove victorious, and
try to force his way into the town. On the same pretext the gates of
the city were also shut by his orders, arnd the inhabitants, who did not
comprehend the meaning of all these movements, fluctuated between
curiosity and alarm, until the sound of artillery from Osterweel
announced to them what there was going on. In clamorous crowds they all
ran to the walls and ramparts, from which, as the wind drove the smoke
from the contending armies, they commanded a full view of the whole
battle. Both armies were so near to the town that they could discern
their banners, and clearly distinguish the voices of the victors and the
vanquished. More terrible even than the battle itself was the spectacle
which this town now presented. Each of the conflicting armies had its
friends and its enemies on the wall. All that went on in the plain
roused on the ramparts exultation or dismay; on the issue of the
conflict the fate of each spectator seemed to depend. Every movement on
the field could be read in the faces of the townsmen; defeat and
triumph, the terror of the conquered, and the fury of the conqueror.
Here a painful but idle wish to support those who are giving way, to
rally those who fly; there an equally futile desire to overtake them,
to slay them, to extirpate them. Now the Gueux fly, and ten thousand
men rejoice; Thoulouse's last place and refuge is in flames, and the
hopes of twenty thousand citizens are consumed with him.

But the first bewilderment of alarm soon gave place to a frantic desire
of revenge. Shrieking aloud, wringing her hands and with dishevelled
hair, the widow of the slain general rushed amidst the crowds to implore
their pity and help. Excited by their favorite preacher, Hermann, the
Calvinists fly to arms, determined to avenge their brethren, or to
perish with them; without reflection, without plan or leader, guided by
nothing but their anguish, their delirium, they rush to the Red Gate of
the city which leads to the field of battle; but there is no egress, the
gate is shut and the foremost of the crowd recoil on those that follow.
Thousands and thousands collect together, a dreadful rush is made to the
Meer Bridge. We are betrayed! we are prisoners! is the general cry.
Destruction to the papists, death to him who has betrayed us!--a sullen
murmur, portentous of a revolt, runs through the multitude. They begin
to suspect that all that has taken place has been set on foot by the
Roman Catholics to destroy the Calvinists. They had slain their
defenders, and they would now fall upon the defenceless. With fatal
speed this suspicion spreads through the whole of Antwerp. Now they
can, they think, understand the past, and they fear something still
worse in the background; a frightful distrust gains possession of every
mind. Each party dreads the other; every one sees an enemy in his
neighbor; the mystery deepens the alarm and horror; a fearful condition
for a populous town, in which every accidental concourse instantly
becomes tumult, every rumor started amongst them becomes a fact, every
small spark a blazing flame, and by the force of numbers and collision
all passions are furiously inflamed. All who bore the name of
Calvinists were roused by this report. Fifteen thousand of them take
possession of the Meer Bridge, and plant heavy artillery upon it, which
they had taken by force from the arsenal; the same thing also happens at
another bridge; their number makes them formidable, the town is in their
hands; to escape an imaginary danger they bring all Antwerp to the brink
of ruin.

Immediately on the commencement of the tumult the Prince of Orange
hastened to the Meer Bridge, where, boldly forcing his way through the
raging crowd, he commanded peace and entreated to be heard. At the
other bridge Count Hogstraten, accompanied by the Burgomaster Strahlen,
made the same attempt; but not possessing a sufficient share either of
eloquence or of popularity to command attention, he referred the
tumultuous crowd to the prince, around whom all Antwerp now furiously
thronged. The gate, he endeavored to explain to them, was shut simply
to keep off the victor, whoever he might be, from the city, which would
otherwise become the prey of an infuriated soldiery. In vain! the
frantic people would not listen, and one more daring than the rest
presented his musket at him, calling him a traitor. With tumultuous
shouts they demanded the key of the Red Gate, which he was ultimately
forced to deliver into the hands of the preacher Hermann. But, he added
with happy presence of mind, they must take heed what they were doing;
in the suburbs six hundred of the enemy's horse were waiting to receive
them. This invention, suggested by the emergency, was not so far
removed from the truth as its author perhaps imagined; for no sooner had
the victorious general perceived the commotion in Antwerp than he caused
his whole cavalry to mount in the hope of being able, under favor of the
disturbance, to break into the town. I, at least, continued the Prince
of Orange, shall secure my own safety in time, and he who follows my
example will save himself much future regret. These words opportunely
spoken and immediately acted upon had their effect. Those who stood
nearest followed him, and were again followed by the next, so that at
last the few who had already hastened out of the city when they saw no
one coming after them lost the desire of coping alone with the six
hundred horse. All accordingly returned to the Meer Bridge, where they
posted watches and videttes, and the night was passed tumultuously under
arms.

The town of Antwerp was now threatened with fearful bloodshed and
pillage. In this pressing emergency Orange assembled an extraordinary
senate, to which were summoned all the best-disposed citizens of the
four nations. If they wished, said he, to repress the violence of the
Calvinists they must oppose them with an army strong enough and prepared
to meet them. It was therefore resolved to arm with speed the Roman
Catholic inhabitants of the town, whether natives, Italians, or
Spaniards, and, if possible, to induce the Lutherans also to join them.
The haughtiness of the Calvinists, who, proud of their wealth and
confident in their numbers, treated every other religious party with
contempt, had long made the Lutherans their enemies, and the mutual
exasperation of these two Protestant churches was even more implacable
than their common hatred of the dominant church. This jealousy the
magistrate had turned to advantage, by making use of one party to curb
the other, and had thus contrived to keep the Calvinists in check, who,
from their numbers and insolence, were most to be feared. With this
view, he had tacitly taken into his protection the Lutherans, as the
weaker and more peaceable party, having moreover invited for them, from
Germany, spiritual teachers, who, by controversial sermons, might keep
up the mutual hatred of the two bodies. He encouraged the Lutherans in
the vain idea that the king thought more favorably of their religious
creed than that of the Calvinists, and exhorted them to be careful how
they damaged their good cause by any understanding with the latter. It
was not, therefore, difficult to bring about, for the moment, a union
with the Roman Catholics and the Lutherans, as its object was to keep
down their detested rivals. At dawn of day an army was opposed to the
Calvinists which was far superior in force to their own. At the head of
this army, the eloquence of Orange had far greater effect, and found far
more attention than on the preceding evening, unbacked by such strong
persuasion. The Calvinists, though in possession of arms and artillery,
yet, alarmed at the superior numbers arrayed against them, were the
first to send envoys, and to treat for an amicable adjustment of
differences, which by the tact and good temper of the Prince of Orange,
he concluded to the satisfaction of all parties. On the proclamation of
this treaty the Spaniards and Italians immediately laid down their arms.
They were followed by the Calvinists, and these again by the Roman
Catholics; last of all the Lutherans disarmed.

Two days and two nights Antwerp had continued in this alarming state.
During the tumult the Roman Catholics had succeeded in placing barrels
of gunpowder under the Meer Bridge, and threatened to blow into the air
the whole army of the Calvinists, who had done the same in other places
to destroy their adversaries. The destruction of the town hung on the
issue of a moment, and nothing but the prince's presence of mind saved
it.

Noircarmes, with his army of Walloons, still lay before Valenciennes,
which, in firm reliance on being relieved by the Gueux, obstinately
refused to listen to all the representations of the regent, and rejected
every idea of surrender. An order of the court had expressly forbidden
the royalist general to press the siege until he should receive
reinforcements from Germany. Whether from forbearance or fear, the king
regarded with abhorrence the violent measure of storming the place, as
necessarily involving the innocent in the fate of the guilty, and
exposing the loyal subject to the same ill-treatment as the rebel. As,
however, the confidence of the besieged augmented daily, and emboldened
by the inactivity of the besiegers, they annoyed him by frequent
sallies, and after burning the cloisters before the town, retired with
the plunder--as the time uselessly lost before this town was put to good
use by the rebels and their allies, Noircarmes besought the duchess to
obtain immediate permission from the king to take it by storm. The
answer arrived more quickly than Philip was ever before wont to reply.
As yet they must be content, simply to make the necessary preparations,
and then to wait awhile to allow terror to have its effect; but if upon
this they did not appear ready to capitulate, the storming might take
place, but, at the same time, with the greatest possible regard for the
lives of the inhabitants. Before the regent allowed Noircarmes to
proceed to this extremity she empowered Count Egmont, with the Duke
Arschot, to treat once more with the rebels amicably. Both conferred
with the deputies of the town, and omitted no argument calculated to
dispel their delusion. They acquainted them with the defeat of
Thoulouse, their sole support, and with the fact that the Count of Megen
had cut off the army of the Gueux from the town, and assured them that
if they had held out so long they owed it entirely to the king's
forbearance. They offered them full pardon for the past; every one was
to be free to prove his innocence before whatever tribunal he should
chose; such as did not wish to avail themselves of this privilege were
to be allowed fourteen days to quit the town with all their effects.
Nothing was required of the townspeople but the admission of the
garrison. To give time to deliberate on these terms an armistice of
three days was granted. When the deputies returned they found their
fellow-citizens less disposed than ever to an accommodation, reports of
new levies by the Gueux having, in the meantime, gained currency.
Thoulouse, it was pretended, had conquered, and was advancing with a
powerful army to relieve the place. Their confidence went so far that
they even ventured to break the armistice, and to fire upon the
besiegers. At last the burgomaster, with difficulty, succeeded in
bringing matters so far towards a peaceful settlement that twelve of the
town counsellors were sent into the camp with the following conditions:
The edict by which Valenciennes had been charged with treason and
declared an enemy to the country was required to be recalled, the
confiscation of their goods revoked, and the prisoners on both sides
restored to liberty; the garrison was not to enter the town before every
one who thought good to do so had placed himself and his property in
security; and a pledge to be given that the inhabitants should not be
molested in any manner, and that their expenses should be paid by the
king.

Noircarmes was so indignant with these conditions that he was almost on
the point of ill-treating the deputies. If they had not come, he told
them, to give up the place, they might return forthwith, lest he should
send them home with their hands tied behind their backs. Upon this the
deputies threw the blame on the obstinacy of the Calvinists, and
entreated him, with tears in their eyes, to keep them in the camp, as
they did not, they said, wish to have anything more to do with their
rebellious townsmen, or to be joined in their fate. They even knelt to
beseech the intercession of Egmont, but Noircarmes remained deaf to all
their entreaties, and the sight of the chains which he ordered to be
brought out drove them reluctantly enough back to Valenciennes.
Necessity, not severity, imposed this harsh procedure upon the general.
The detention of ambassadors had on a former occasion drawn upon him the
reprimand of the duchess; the people in the town would not have failed
to have ascribed the non-appearance of their present deputies to the
same cause as in the former case had detained them. Besides, he was
loath to deprive the town of any out of the small residue of
well-disposed citizens, or to leave it a prey to a blind, foolhardy mob.
Egmont was so mortified at the bad report of his embassy that he the
night following rode round to reconnoitre its fortifications, and
returned well satisfied to have convinced himself that it was no longer
tenable.

Valenciennes stretches down a gentle acclivity into the level plain,
being built on a site as strong as it is delightful. On one side
enclosed by the Scheldt and another smaller river, and on the other
protected by deep ditches, thick walls, and towers, it appears capable
of defying every attack. But Noircarmes had discovered a few points
where neglect had allowed the fosse to be filled almost up to the level
of the natural surface, and of these he determined to avail himself in
storming. He drew together all the scattered corps by which he had
invested the town, and during a tempestuous night carried the suburb of
Berg without the loss of a single man. He then assigned separate points
of attack to the Count of Bossu, the young Charles of Mansfeld, and the
younger Barlaimont, and under a terrible fire, which drove the enemy
from his walls, his troops were moved up with all possible speed. Close
before the town, and opposite the gate under the eyes of the besiegers,
and with very little loss, a battery was thrown up to an equal height
with the fortifications. From this point the town was bombarded with an
unceasing fire for four hours. The Nicolaus tower, on which the
besieged had planted some artillery, was among the first that fell, and
many perished under its ruins. The guns were directed against all the
most conspicuous buildings, and a terrible slaughter was made amongst
the inhabitants. In a few hours their principal works were destroyed,
and in the gate itself so extensive a breach was made that the besieged,
despairing of any longer defending themselves, sent in haste two
trumpeters to entreat a parley. This was granted, but the storm was
continued without intermission. The ambassador entreated Noircarmes to
grant them the same terms which only two days before they had rejected.
But circumstances had now changed, and the victor would hear no more of
conditions. The unceasing fire left the inhabitants no time to repair
the ramparts, which filled the fosse with their debris, and opened many
a breach for the enemy to enter by. Certain of utter destruction, they
surrendered next morning at discretion after a bombardment of
six-and-thirty hours without intermission, and three thousand bombs had
been thrown into the city. Noircarmes marched into the town with his
victorious army under the strictest discipline, and was received by a
crowd of women and children, who went to meet him, carrying green boughs,
and beseeching his pity. All the citizens were immediately disarmed, the
commandant and his son beheaded; thirty-six of the most guilty of the
rebels, among whom were La Grange and another Calvinistic preacher, Guido
de Bresse, atoned for their obstinacy at the gallows; all the municipal
functionaries were deprived of their offices, and the town of all its
privileges. The Roman Catholic worship was immediately restored in full
dignity, and the Protestant abolished. The Bishop of Arras was obliged to
quit his residence in the town, and a strong garrison placed in it to
insure its future obedience.

The fate of Valenciennes, towards which all eyes had been turned, was a
warning to the other towns which had similarly offended. Noircarmes
followed up his victory, and marched immediately against Maestricht,
which surrendered without a blow, and received a garrison. From thence
he marched to Tornhut to awe by his presence the people of Herzogenbusch
and Antwerp. The Gueux in this place, who under the command of Bomberg
had carried all things before them, were now so terrified at his
approach that they quitted the town in haste. Noircarmes was received
without opposition. The ambassadors of the duchess were immediately set
at liberty. A strong garrison was thrown into Tornhut. Cambray also
opened its gates, and joyfully recalled its archbishop, whom the
Calvinists had driven from his see, and who deserved this triumph as
he did not stain his entrance with blood. Ghent, Ypres, and Oudenarde
submitted and received garrisons. Gueldres was now almost entirely
cleared of the rebels and reduced to obedience by the Count of Megen.
In Friesland and Groningen the Count of Aremberg had eventually the same
success; but it was not obtained here so rapidly or so easily, since the
count wanted consistency and firmness, and these warlike republicans
maintained more pertinaciously their privileges, and were greatly
supported by the strength of their position. With the exception of
Holland all the provinces had yielded before the victorious arms of the
duchess. The courage of the disaffected sunk entirely, and nothing was
left to them but flight or submission.




          RESIGNATION OF WILLIAM OF ORANGE.

Ever since the establishment of the Guesen league, but more perceptibly
since the outbreak of the Iconoclasts, the spirit of rebellion and
disaffection had spread so rapidly among all classes, parties had become
so blended and confused, that the regent had difficulty in
distinguishing her own adherents, and at last hardly knew on whom to
rely. The lines of demarcation between the loyal and the disaffected
had grown gradually fainter, until at last they almost entirely
vanished. The frequent alterations, too, which she had been obliged to
make in the laws, and which were at most the expedients and suggestions
of the moment, had taken from them their precision and binding force,
and had given full scope to the arbitrary will of every individual whose
office it was to interpret them. And at last, amidst the number and
variety of the interpretations, the spirit was lost and the intention of
the lawgiver baffled. The close connection which in many cases
subsisted between Protestants and Roman Catholics, between Gueux and
Royalists, and which not unfrequently gave them a common interest, led
the latter to avail themselves of the loophole which the vagueness of
the laws left open, and in favor of their Protestant friends and
associates evaded by subtle distinctions all severity in the discharge
of their duties. In their minds it was enough not to be a declared
rebel, not one of the Gueux, or at least not a heretic, to be authorized
to mould their duties to their inclinations, and to set the most
arbitrary limits to their obedience to the king. Feeling themselves
irresponsible, the governors of the provinces, the civil functionaries,
both high and low, the municipal officers, and the military commanders
had all become extremely remiss in their duty, and presuming upon this
impunity showed a pernicious indulgence to the rebels and their
adherents which rendered abortive all the regent's measures of coercion.
This general indifference and corruption of so many servants of the
state had further this injurious result, that it led the turbulent to
reckon on far stronger support than in reality they had cause for, and
to count on their own side all who were but lukewarm adherents of the
court. This way of thinking, erroneous as it was, gave them greater
courage and confidence; it had the same effect as if it had been well
founded; and the uncertain vassals of the king became in consequence
almost as injurious to him as his declared enemies, without at the same
time being liable to the same measures of severity. This was especially
the case with the Prince of Orange, Counts Egmont, Bergen, Hogstraten,
Horn, and several others of the higher nobility. The regent felt the
necessity of bringing these doubtful subjects to an explanation, in
order either to deprive the rebels of a fancied support or to unmask the
enemies of the king. And the latter reason was of the more urgent
moment when being obliged to send an army into the field it was of the
utmost importance to entrust the command of the troops to none but those
of whose fidelity she was fully assured. She caused, therefore, an oath
to be drawn up which bound all who took it to advance the Roman Catholic
faith, to pursue and punish the Iconoclasts, and to help by every means
in their power in extirpating all kinds of heresy. It also pledged them
to treat the king's enemies as their own, and to serve without
distinction against all whom the regent in the king's name should point
out. By this oath she did not hope so much to test their sincerity, and
still less to secure them, as rather to gain a pretext for removing the
suspected parties if they declined to take it, and for wresting from
their hands a power which they abused, or a legitimate ground for
punishing them if they took it and broke it. This oath was exacted from
all Knights of the Fleece, all civil functionaries and magistrates, all
officers of the army--from every one in short who held any appointment
in the state. Count Mansfeld was the first who publicly took it in the
council of state at Brussels; his example was followed by the Duke of
Arschot, Counts Egmont, Megen, and Barlaimont. Hogstraten and Horn
endeavored to evade the necessity. The former was offended at a proof
of distrust which shortly before the regent had given him. Under the
pretext that Malines could not safely be left any longer without its
governor, but that the presence of the count was no less necessary in
Antwerp, she had taken from him that province and given it to another
whose fidelity she could better reckon upon. Hostraten expressed his
thanks that she had been pleased to release him from one of his burdens,
adding that she would complete the obligation if she would relieve him
from the other also. True to his determination Count Horn was living
on one of his estates in the strong town of Weerdt, having retired
altogether from public affairs. Having quitted the service of the
state, he owed, he thought, nothing more either to the republic or to
the king, and declined the oath, which in his case appears at last to
have been waived.

The Count of Brederode was left the choice of either taking the
prescribed oath or resigning the command of his squadron of cavalry.
After many fruitless attempts to evade the alternative, on the plea that
he did not hold office in the state, he at last resolved upon the latter
course, and thereby escaped all risk of perjuring himself.

Vain were all the attempts to prevail on the Prince of Orange to take
the oath, who, from the suspicion which had long attached to him,
required more than any other this purification; and from whom the great
power which it had been necessary to place in his hands fully justified
the regent in exacting it. It was not, however, advisable to proceed
against him with the laconic brevity adopted towards Brederode and the
like; on the other hand, the voluntary resignation of all his offices,
which he tendered, did not meet the object of the regent, who foresaw
clearly enough how really dangerous he would become, as soon as he
should feel himself independent, and be no longer checked by any
external considerations of character or duty in the prosecution of his
secret designs. But ever since the consultation in Dendermonde the
Prince of Orange had made up his mind to quit the service of the King of
Spain on the first favorable opportunity, and till better days to leave
the country itself. A very disheartening experience had taught him how
uncertain are hopes built on the multitude, and how quickly their zeal
is cooled by the necessity of fulfilling its lofty promises. An army
was already in the field, and a far stronger one was, he knew, on its
road, under the command of the Duke of Alva. The time for remonstrances
was past; it was only at the head of an army that an advantageous treaty
could now be concluded with the regent, and by preventing the entrance
of the Spanish general. But now where was he to raise this army, in
want as he was of money, the sinews of warfare, since the Protestants
had retracted their boastful promises and deserted him in this pressing
emergency?

   [How valiant the wish, and how sorry the deed was, is proved by the
   following instance amongst others. Some friends of the national
   liberty, Roman Catholics as well as Protestants, had solemnly
   engaged in Amsterdam to subscribe to a common fund the hundredth
   penny of their estates, until a sum of eleven thousand florins
   should be collected, which was to be devoted to the common cause
   and interests. An alms-box, protected by three locks, was prepared
   for the reception of these contributions. After the expiration of
   the prescribed period it was opened, and a sum was found amounting
   to seven hundred florins, which was given to the hostess of the
   Count of Brederode, in part payment of his unliquidated score.
   Univ. Hist. of the N., vol. 3.]

Religious jealousy and hatred, moreover, separated the two Protestant
churches, and stood in the way of every salutary combination against
the common enemy of their faith. The rejection of the Confession of
Augsburg by the Calvinists had exasperated all the Protestant princes of
Germany, so that no support was to be looked for from the empire. With
Count Egmont the excellent army of Walloons was also lost to the cause,
for they followed with blind devotion the fortunes of their general, who
had taught them at St. Quentin and Gravelines to be invincible. And
again, the outrages which the Iconoclasts had perpetrated on the
churches and convents had estranged from the league the numerous,
wealthy, and powerful class of the established clergy, who, before this
unlucky episode, were already more than half gained over to it; while,
by her intrigues, the regent daily contrived to deprive the league
itself of some one or other of its most influential members.

All these considerations combined induced the prince to postpone to
a more favorable season a project for which the present juncture was
little suited, and to leave a country where his longer stay could not
effect any advantage for it, but must bring certain destruction on
himself. After intelligence gleaned from so many quarters, after so
many proofs of distrust, so many warnings from Madrid, he could be no
longer doubtful of the sentiments of Philip towards him. If even he
had any doubt, his uncertainty would soon have been dispelled by the
formidable armament which was preparing in Spain, and which was to have
for its leader, not the king, as was falsely given out, but, as he was
better informed, the Duke of Alva, his personal enemy, and the very man
he had most cause to fear. The prince had seen too deeply into Philip's
heart to believe in the sincerity of his reconciliation after having
once awakened his fears. He judged his own conduct too justly to
reckon, like his friend Egmont, on reaping a gratitude from the king to
which he had not sown. He could therefore expect nothing but hostility
from him, and prudence counselled him to screen himself by a timely
flight from its actual outbreak. He had hitherto obstinately refused
to take the new oath, and all the written exhortations of the regent
had been fruitless. At last she sent to him at Antwerp her private
secretary, Berti, who was to put the matter emphatically to his
conscience, and forcibly remind him of all the evil consequences which
so sudden a retirement from the royal service would draw upon the
country, as well as the irreparable injury it would do to his own fair
fame. Already, she informed him by her ambassador, his declining the
required oath had cast a shade upon his honor, and imparted to the
general voice, which accused him of an understanding with the rebels, an
appearance of truth which this unconditional resignation would convert
to absolute certainty. It was for the sovereign to discharge his
servants, but it did not become the servant to abandon his sovereign.
The envoy of the regent found the prince in his palace at Antwerp,
already, as it appeared, withdrawn from the public service, and entirely
devoted to his private concerns. The prince told him, in the presence
of Hogstraten, that he had refused to take the required oath because he
could not find that such a proposition had ever before been made to a
governor of a province; because he had already bound himself, once for
all, to the king, and therefore, by taking this new oath, he would
tacitly acknowledge that he had broken the first. He had also refused
because the old oath enjoined him to protect the rights and privileges
of the country, but he could not tell whether this new one might not
impose upon him duties which would contravene the first; because, too,
the clause which bound him to serve, if required, against all without
distinction, did not except even the emperor, his feudal lord, against
whom, however, he, as his vassal, could not conscientiously make war.
He had refused to take this oath because it might impose upon him the
necessity of surrendering his friends and relations, his children, nay,
even his wife, who was a Lutheran, to butchery. According to it,
moreover, he must lend himself to every thing which it should occur to
the king's fancy or passion to demand. But the king might thus exact
from him things which he shuddered even to think of, and even the
severities which were now, and had been all along, exercised upon the
Protestants, were the most revolting to his heart. This oath, in short,
was repugnant to his feelings as a man, and he could not take it. In
conclusion, the name of the Duke of Alva dropped from his lips in a tone
of bitterness, and he became immediately silent.

All these objections were answered, point by point, by Berti. Certainly
such an oath had never been required from a governor before him, because
the provinces had never been similarly circumstanced. It was not
exacted because the governors had broken the first, but in order to
remind them vividly of their former vows, and to freshen their activity
in the present emergency. This oath would not impose upon him anything
which offended against the rights and privileges of the country, for the
king had sworn to observe these as well as the Prince of Orange. The
oath did not, it was true, contain any reference to a war with the
emperor, or any other sovereign to whom the prince might be related; and
if he really had scruples on this point, a distinct clause could easily
be inserted, expressly providing against such a contingency. Care would
be taken to spare him any duties which were repugnant to his feelings as
a man, and no power on earth would compel him to act against his wife or
against his children. Berti was then passing to the last point, which
related to the Duke of Alva, but the prince, who did not wish to have
this part of his discourse canvassed, interrupted him. "The king was
coming to the Netherlands," he said, "and he knew the king. The king
would not endure that one of his servants should have wedded a Lutheran,
and he had therefore resolved to go with his whole family into voluntary
banishment before he was obliged to submit to the same by compulsion.
But," he concluded, "wherever he might be, he would always conduct
himself as a subject of the king." Thus far-fetched were the motives
which the prince adduced to avoid touching upon the single one which
really decided him.

Berti had still a hope of obtaining, through Egmont's eloquence, what by
his own he despaired of effecting. He therefore proposed a meeting with
the latter (1567), which the prince assented to the more willingly as he
himself felt a desire to embrace his friend once more before his
departure, and if possible to snatch the deluded man from certain
destruction. This remarkable meeting, at which the private secretary,
Berti, and the young Count Mansfeld, were also present, was the last
that the two friends ever held, and took place in Villebroeck, a village
on the Rupel, between Brussels and Antwerp. The Calvinists, whose last
hope rested on the issue of this conference, found means to acquaint
themselves of its import by a spy, who concealed himself in the chimney
of the apartment where it was held. All three attempted to shake the
determination of the prince, but their united eloquence was unable to
move him from his purpose. "It will cost you your estates, Orange, if
you persist in this intention," said the Prince of Gaure, as he took him
aside to a window. "And you your life, Egmont, if you change not
yours," replied the former. "To me it will at least be a consolation in
my misfortunes that I desired, in deed as well as in word, to help my
country and my friends in the hour of need; but you, my friend, you are
dragging friends and country with you to destruction." And saying these
words, he once again exhorted him, still more urgently than ever, to
return to the cause of his country, which his arm alone was yet able to
preserve; if not, at least for his own sake to avoid the tempest which
was gathering against him from Spain.

But all the arguments, however lucid, with which a far-discerning
prudence supplied him, and however urgently enforced, with all the ardor
and animation which the tender anxiety of friendship could alone
inspire, did not avail to destroy the fatal confidence which still
fettered Egmont's better reason. The warning of Orange seemed to come
from a sad and dispirited heart; but for Egmont the world still smiled.
To abandon the pomp and affluence in which he had grown up to youth and
manhood; to part with all the thousand conveniences of life which alone
made it valuable to him, and all this to escape an evil which his
buoyant spirit regarded as remote, if not imaginary; no, that was not a
sacrifice which could be asked from Egmont. But had he even been less
given to indulgence than he was, with what heart could he have consigned
a princess, accustomed by uninterrupted prosperity to ease and comfort,
a wife who loved him as dearly as she was beloved, the children on whom
his soul hung in hope and fondness, to privations at the prospect of
which his own courage sank, and which a sublime philosophy alone can
enable sensuality to undergo. "You will never persuade me, Orange,"
said Egmont, "to see things in the gloomy light in which they appear to
thy mournful prudence. When I have succeeded in abolishing the public
preachings, and chastising the Iconoclasts, in crushing the rebels, and
restoring peace and order in the provinces, what can the king lay to my
charge? The king is good and just; I have claims upon his gratitude,
and I must not forget what I owe to myself." "Well, then," cried
Orange, indignantly and with bitter anguish, "trust, if you will, to
this royal gratitude; but a mournful presentiment tells me--and may
Heaven grant that I am deceived!--that you, Egmont, will be the bridge
by which the Spaniards will pass into our country to destroy it." After
these words, he drew him to his bosom, ardently clasping him in his
arms. Long, as though the sight was to serve for the remainder of his
life, did he keep his eyes fixed upon him; the tears fell; they saw each
other no more.

The very next day the Prince of Orange wrote his letter of resignation
to the regent, in which he assured her of his perpetual esteem, and once
again entreated her to put the best interpretation on his present step.
He then set off with his three brothers and his whole family for his own
town of Breda, where he remained only as long as was requisite to
arrange some private affairs. His eldest son, Prince Philip William,
was left behind at the University of Louvain, where he thought him
sufficiently secure under the protection of the privileges of Brabant
and the immunities of the academy; an imprudence which, if it was really
not designed, can hardly be reconciled with the just estimate which, in
so many other cases, he had taken of the character of his adversary. In
Breda the heads of the Calvinists once more consulted him whether there
was still hope for them, or whether all was irretrievably lost. "He had
before advised them," replied the prince, "and must now do so again, to
accede to the Confession of Augsburg; then they might rely upon aid from
Germany. If they would still not consent to this, they must raise six
hundred thousand florins, or more, if they could." "The first," they
answered, "was at variance with their conviction and their conscience;
but means might perhaps be found to raise the money if he would only let
them know for what purpose he would use it." "No!" cried he, with the
utmost displeasure, "if I must tell you that, it is all over with the
use of it." With these words he immediately broke off the conference
and dismissed the deputies.

The Prince of Orange was reproached with having squandered his fortune,
and with favoring the innovations on account of his debts; but he
asserted that he still enjoyed sixty thousand florins yearly rental.
Before his departure he borrowed twenty thousand florins from the states
of Holland on the mortgage of some manors. Men could hardly persuade
themselves that he would have succumbed to necessity so entirely, and
without an effort at resistance given up all his hopes and schemes. But
what he secretly meditated no one knew, no one had read in his heart.
Being asked how he intended to conduct himself towards the King of
Spain, "Quietly," was his answer, "unless he touches my honor or my
estates." He left the Netherlands soon afterwards, and betook himself
in retirement to the town of Dillenburg, in Nassau, at which place he
was born. He was accompanied to Germany by many hundreds, either as his
servants or as volunteers, and was soon followed by Counts Hogstraten,
Kuilemberg, and Bergen, who preferred to share a voluntary exile with
him rather than recklessly involve themselves in an uncertain destiny.
In his departure the nation saw the flight of its guardian angel; many
had adored, all had honored him. With him the last stay of the
Protestants gave way; they, however, had greater hopes from this man
in exile than from all the others together who remained behind. Even
the Roman Catholics could not witness his departure without regret.
Them also had he shielded from tyranny; he had not unfrequently
protected them against the oppression of their own church, and he had
rescued many of them from the sanguinary jealousy of their religious
opponents. A few fanatics among the Calvinists, who were offended with
his proposal of an alliance with their brethren, who avowed the
Confession of Augsburg, solemnized with secret thanksgivings the day on
which the enemy left them. (1567).




        DECAY AND DISPERSION OF THE GEUSEN LEAGUE.

Immediately after taking leave of his friend, the Prince of Gaure
hastened back to Brussels, to receive from the regent the reward of his
firmness, and there, in the excitement of the court and in the sunshine
of his good fortune, to dispel the light cloud which the earnest
warnings of the Prince of Orange had cast over his natural gayety.
The flight of the latter now left him in possession of the stage.
He had now no longer any rival in the republic to dim his glory. With
redoubled zeal he wooed the transient favor of the court, above which he
ought to have felt himself far exalted. All Brussels must participate
in his joy. He gave splendid banquets and public entertainments, at
which, the better to eradicate all suspicion from his mind, the regent
herself frequently attended. Not content with having taken the required
oath, he outstripped the most devout in devotion; outran the most
zealous in zeal to extirpate the Protestant faith, and to reduce by
force of arms the refractory towns of Flanders. He declared to his old
friend, Count Hogstraten, as also to the rest of the Gueux, that he
would withdraw from them his friendship forever if they hesitated any
longer to return into the bosom of the church, and reconcile themselves
with their king. All the confidential letters which had been exchanged
between him and them were returned, and by this last step the breach
between them was made public and irreparable. Egmont's secession, and
the flight of the Prince of Orange, destroyed the last hope of the
Protestants and dissolved the whole league of the Gueux. Its members
vied with each other in readiness--nay, they could not soon enough
abjure the covenant and take the new oath proposed to them by the
government. In vain did the Protestant merchants exclaim at this breach
of faith on the part of the nobles; their weak voice was no longer
listened to, and all the sums were lost with which they had supplied the
league.

The most important places were quickly reduced and garrisoned; the
rebels had fled, or perished by the hand of the executioner; in the
provinces no protector was left. All yielded to the fortune of the
regent, and her victorious army was advancing against Antwerp. After a
long and obstinate contest this town had been cleared of the worst
rebels; Hermann and his adherents took to flight; the internal storms
had spent their rage. The minds of the people became gradually
composed, and no longer excited at will by every furious fanatic, began
to listen to better counsels. The wealthier citizens earnestly longed
for peace to revive commerce and trade, which had suffered severely from
the long reign of anarchy. The dread of Alva's approach worked wonders;
in order to prevent the miseries which a Spanish army would inflict upon
the country, the people hastened to throw themselves on the gentler
mercies of the regent. Of their own accord they despatched
plenipotentiaries to Brussels to negotiate for a treaty and to hear her
terms. Agreeably as the regent was surprised by this voluntary step,
she did not allow herself to be hurried away by her joy. She declared
that she neither could nor would listen to any overtures or
representations until the town had received a garrison. Even this was
no longer opposed, and Count Mansfeld marched in the day after with
sixteen squadrons in battle array. A solemn treaty was now made between
the town and duchess, by which the former bound itself to prohibit the
Calvinistic form of worship, to banish all preachers of that persuasion,
to restore the Roman Catholic religion to its former dignity, to
decorate the despoiled churches with their former ornaments, to
administer the old edicts as before, to take the new oath which the
other towns had sworn to, and, lastly, to deliver into the hands of
justice all who been guilty of treason, in bearing arms, or taking part
in the desecration of the churches. On the other hand, the regent
pledged herself to forget all that had passed, and even to intercede for
the offenders with the king. All those who, being dubious of obtaining
pardon, preferred banishment, were to be allowed a month to convert
their property into money, and place themselves in safety. From this
grace none were to be excluded but such as had been guilty of a capital
offence, and who were excepted by the previous article. Immediately
upon the conclusion of this treaty all Calvinist and Lutheran preachers
in Antwerp, and the adjoining territory, were warned by the herald to
quit the country within twenty-four hours. All the streets and gates
were now thronged with fugitives, who for the honor of their God
abandoned what was dearest to them, and sought a more peaceful home for
their persecuted faith. Here husbands were taking an eternal farewell
of their wives, fathers of their children; there whole families were
preparing to depart. All Antwerp resembled a house of mourning;
wherever the eye turned some affecting spectacle of painful separation
presented itself. A seal was set on the doors of the Protestant
churches; the whole worship seemed to be extinct. The 10th of April
(1567) was the day appointed for the departure of the preachers. In the
town hall, where they appeared for the last time to take leave of the
magistrate, they could not command their grief; but broke forth into
bitter reproaches. They had been sacrificed, they exclaimed, they had
been shamefully betrayed; but a time would come when Antwerp would pay
dearly enough for this baseness. Still more bitter were the complaints
of the Lutheran clergy, whom the magistrate himself had invited into the
country to preach against the Calvinists. Under the delusive
representation that the king was not unfavorable to their religion they
had been seduced into a combination against the Calvinists, but as soon
as the latter had been by their co-operation brought under subjection,
and their own services were no longer required, they were left to bewail
their folly, which had involved themselves and their enemies in common
ruin.