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MOTLEY'S HISTORY OF THE NETHERLANDS, PG EDITION, VOLUME 12.

THE RISE OF THE DUTCH REPUBLIC

By John Lothrop Motley

1855


VOLUME 2, Book 1., 1566


1566 [CHAPTER VIII.]

     Secret policy of the government--Berghen and Montigny in Spain--
     Debates at Segovia--Correspondence of the Duchess with Philip--
     Procrastination and dissimulation of the King--Secret communication
     to the Pope--Effect in the provinces of the King's letters to the
     government--Secret instructions to the Duchess--Desponding
     statements of Margaret--Her misrepresentations concerning Orange,
     Egmont, and others--Wrath and duplicity of Philip--Egmont's
     exertions in Flanders--Orange returns to Antwerp--His tolerant
     spirit--Agreement of 2d September--Horn at Tournay--Excavations in
     the Cathedral--Almost universal attendance at the preaching--
     Building of temples commenced--Difficult position of Horn--Preaching
     in the Clothiers' Hall--Horn recalled--Noircarmes at Tournay--
     Friendly correspondence of Margaret with Orange, Egmont, Horn, and
     Hoogstraaten--Her secret defamation of these persons.

Egmont in Flanders, Orange at Antwerp, Horn at Tournay; Hoogstraaten at
Mechlin, were exerting themselves to suppress insurrection and to avert
ruin.  What, meanwhile, was the policy of the government?  The secret
course pursued both at Brussels and at Madrid may be condensed into the
usual formula--dissimulation, procrastination, and again dissimulation.

It is at this point necessary to take a rapid survey of the open and the
secret proceedings of the King and his representatives from the moment at
which Berghen and Montigny arrived in Madrid.  Those ill-fated gentlemen
had been received with apparent cordiality, and admitted to frequent, but
unmeaning, interviews with his Majesty.  The current upon which they were
embarked was deep and treacherous, but it was smooth and very slow.  They
assured the King that his letters, ordering the rigorous execution of the
inquisition and edicts, had engendered all the evils under which the
provinces were laboring.  They told him that Spaniards and tools of
Spaniards had attempted to govern the country, to the exclusion of native
citizens and nobles, but that it would soon be found that Netherlanders
were not to be trodden upon like the abject inhabitants of Milan, Naples,
and Sicily.  Such words as these struck with an unaccustomed sound upon
the royal ear, but the envoys, who were both Catholic and loyal, had no
idea, in thus expressing their opinions, according to their sense of
duty, and in obedience to the King's desire, upon the causes of the
discontent, that they were committing an act of high treason.

When the news of the public preaching reached Spain, there were almost
daily consultations at the grove of Segovia.  The eminent personages who
composed the royal council were the Duke of Alva, the Count de Feria, Don
Antonio de Toledo, Don Juan Manrique de Lara, Ruy Gomez, Quixada,
Councillor Tisnacq, recently appointed President of the State Council,
and Councillor Hopper.  Six Spaniards and two Netherlanders, one of whom,
too, a man of dull intellect and thoroughly subservient character, to
deal with the local affairs of the Netherlands in a time of intense
excitement!  The instructions of the envoys had been to represent the
necessity of according three great points--abolition of the inquisition,
moderation of the edicts, according to the draft prepared in Brussels,
and an ample pardon for past transactions.  There was much debate upon
all these propositions.  Philip said little, but he listened attentively
to the long discourses in council, and he took an incredible quantity of
notes.  It was the general opinion that this last demand on the part of
the Netherlanders was the fourth link in the chain of treason.  The first
had been the cabal by which Granvelle had been expelled; the second, the
mission of Egmont, the main object of which had been to procure a
modification of the state council, in order to bring that body under the
control of a few haughty and rebellious nobles; the third had been the
presentation of the insolent and seditious Request; and now, to crown the
whole, came a proposition embodying the three points--abolition of the
inquisition, revocation of the edicts, and a pardon to criminals, for
whom death was the only sufficient punishment.

With regard to these three points, it was, after much wrangling, decided
to grant them under certain restrictions.  To abolish the inquisition
would be to remove the only instrument by which the Church had been
accustomed to regulate the consciences and the doctrines of its subjects.
It would be equivalent to a concession of religious freedom, at least to
individuals within their own domiciles, than which no concession could be
more pernicious.  Nevertheless, it might be advisable to permit the
temporary cessation of the papal inquisition, now that the episcopal
inquisition had been so much enlarged and strengthened in the
Netherlands, on the condition that this branch of the institution should
be maintained in energetic condition.  With regard to the Moderation, it
was thought better to defer that matter till, the proposed visit of his
Majesty to the provinces.  If, however, the Regent should think it
absolutely necessary to make a change, she must cause a new draft to be
made, as that which had been sent was not found admissible.  Touching the
pardon general, it would be necessary to make many conditions and
restrictions before it could be granted.  Provided these were
sufficiently minute to exclude all persons whom it might be found
desirable to chastise, the amnesty was possible.  Otherwise it was quite
out of the question.

Meantime, Margaret of Parma had been urging her brother to come to a
decision, painting the distracted condition of the country in the
liveliest colors, and insisting, although perfectly aware of Philip's
private sentiments, upon a favorable decision as to the three points
demanded by the envoys.  Especially she urged her incapacity to resist
any rebellion, and demanded succor of men and money in case the
"Moderation" were not accepted by his Majesty.

It was the last day of July before the King wrote at all, to communicate
his decisions upon the crisis which had occurred in the first week of
April.  The disorder for which he had finally prepared a prescription
had, before his letter arrived, already passed through its subsequent
stages of the field-preaching and the image-breaking.  Of course these
fresh symptoms would require much consultation, pondering, and note-
taking before they could be dealt with.  In the mean time they would be
considered as not yet having happened.  This was the masterly
procrastination of the sovereign, when his provinces were in a blaze.

His masterly dissimulation was employed in the direction suggested by his
councillors.  Philip never originated a thought, nor laid down a plan,
but he was ever true to the falsehood of his nature, and was
indefatigable in following out the suggestions of others.  No greater
mistake can be made than to ascribe talent to this plodding and pedantic
monarch.  The man's intellect was contemptible, but malignity and
duplicity, almost superhuman; have effectually lifted his character out
of the regions of the common-place.  He wrote accordingly to say that the
pardon, under certain conditions, might be granted, and that the papal
inquisition might cease--the bishops now being present in such numbers,
"to take care of their flocks," and the episcopal inquisition being,
therefore established upon so secure a basis.  He added, that if a
moderation of the edicts were still desired, a new project might be sent
to Madrid, as the one brought by Berghen and Montigny was not
satisfactory.  In arranging this wonderful scheme for composing the
tumults of the country, which had grown out of a determined rebellion to
the inquisition in any form, he followed not only the advice, but adopted
the exact language of his councillors.

Certainly, here was not much encouragement for patriotic hearts in the
Netherlands.  A pardon, so restricted that none were likely to be
forgiven save those who had done no wrong; an episcopal inquisition
stimulated to renewed exertions, on the ground that the papal
functionaries were to be discharged; and a promise that, although the
proposed Moderation of the edicts seemed too mild for the monarch's
acceptance, yet at some future period another project would be matured
for settling the matter to universal satisfaction--such were the
propositions of the Crown.  Nevertheless, Philip thought he had gone too
far, even in administering this meagre amount of mercy, and that he had
been too frank in employing so slender a deception, as in the scheme thus
sketched.  He therefore summoned a notary, before whom, in presence of
the Duke of Alva, the Licentiate Menchaca and Dr. Velasco, he declared
that, although he had just authorized Margaret of Parma, by force of
circumstances, to grant pardon to all those who had been compromised in
the late disturbances of the Netherlands, yet as he had not done this
spontaneously nor freely, he did not consider himself bound by the
authorization, but that, on the contrary, he reserved his right to punish
all the guilty, and particularly those who had been the authors and
encouragers of the sedition.

So much for the pardon promised in his official correspondence.

With regard to the concessions, which he supposed himself to have made in
the matter of the inquisition and the edicts, he saved his conscience by
another process.  Revoking with his right hand all which his left had
been doing, he had no sooner despatched his letters to the Duchess Regent
than he sent off another to his envoy at Rome.  In this despatch he
instructed Requesens to inform the Pope as to the recent royal decisions
upon the three points, and to state that there had not been time to
consult his Holiness beforehand.  Nevertheless, continued Philip "the
prudent," it was perhaps better thus, since the abolition could have no
force, unless the Pope, by whom the institution had been established,
consented to its suspension.  This matter, however, was to be kept a
profound secret.  So much for the inquisition matter.  The papal
institution, notwithstanding the official letters, was to exist, unless
the Pope chose to destroy it; and his Holiness, as we have seen, had sent
the Archbishop of Sorrento, a few weeks before, to Brussels, for the
purpose of concerting secret measures for strengthening the "Holy Office"
in the provinces.

With regard to the proposed moderation of the edicts, Philip informed
Pius the Fifth, through Requesens, that the project sent by the Duchess
not having been approved, orders had been transmitted for a new draft,
in which all the articles providing for the severe punishment of heretics
were to be retained, while alterations, to be agreed upon by the state
and privy councils, and the knights of the Fleece, were to be adopted--
certainly in no sense of clemency.  On the contrary, the King assured his
Holiness, that if the severity of chastisement should be mitigated the
least in the world by the new articles, they would in no case receive the
royal approbation.  Philip further implored the Pope "not to be
scandalized" with regard to the proposed pardon, as it would be by no
means extended to offenders against religion.  All this was to be kept
entirely secret.  The King added, that rather than permit the least
prejudice to the ancient religion, he would sacrifice all his states, and
lose a hundred lives if he had so many; for he would never consent to be
the sovereign of heretics.  He said he would arrange the troubles of the
Netherlands, without violence, if possible, because forcible measures
would cause the entire destruction of the country.  Nevertheless they
should be employed, if his purpose could be accomplished in no other way.
In that case the King would himself be the executor of his own design,
without allowing the peril which he should incur, nor the ruin of the
provinces, nor that of his other realms, to prevent him from doing all
which a Christian prince was bound to do, to maintain the Catholic
religion and the authority of the Holy See, as well as to testify his
personal regard for the reigning pontiff, whom he so much loved and
esteemed.

Here was plain speaking.  Here were all the coming horrors distinctly
foreshadowed.  Here was the truth told to the only being with whom Philip
ever was sincere.  Yet even on this occasion, he permitted himself a
falsehood by which his Holiness was not deceived.  Philip had no
intention of going to the Netherlands in person, and the Pope knew that
he had none.  "I feel it in my bones," said Granvelle, mournfully, "that
nobody in Rome believes in his Majesty's journey to the provinces."  From
that time forward, however, the King began to promise this visit, which
was held out as a panacea for every ill, and made to serve as an excuse
for constant delay.

It may well be supposed that if Philip's secret policy had been
thoroughly understood in the Netherlands, the outbreak would have come
sooner.  On the receipt, however, of the public despatches from Madrid,
the administration in Brussels made great efforts to represent their
tenor as highly satisfactory.  The papal inquisition was to be abolished,
a pardon was to be granted, a new moderation was to be arranged at some
indefinite period; what more would men have?  Yet without seeing the face
of the cards, the people suspected the real truth, and Orange was
convinced of it.  Viglius wrote that if the King did not make his
intended visit soon, he would come too late, and that every week more
harm was done by procrastination than could be repaired by months of
labor and perhaps by torrents of blood.  What the precise process was,
through which Philip was to cure all disorders by his simple presence,
the President did not explain.

As for the measures propounded by the King after so long a delay, they
were of course worse than useless; for events had been marching while he
had been musing.  The course suggested was, according to Viglius, but "a
plaster for a wound, but a drag-chain for the wheel."  He urged that the
convocation of the states-general was the only remedy for the perils in
which the country was involved; unless the King should come in person.
He however expressed the hope that by general consultation some means
would be devised by which, if not a good, at least a less desperate
aspect would be given to public affairs, "so that the commonwealth, if
fall it must, might at least fall upon its feet like a cat, and break its
legs rather than its neck."

Notwithstanding this highly figurative view of the subject; and
notwithstanding the urgent representations of Duchess Margaret to her
brother, that nobles and people were all clamoring about the necessity of
convening the states general, Philip was true to his instincts on this as
on the other questions.  He knew very well that the states-general of the
Netherlands and Spanish despotism were incompatible ideas, and he
recoiled from the idea of the assembly with infinite aversion.  At the
same time a little wholesome deception could do no harm.  He wrote to the
Duchess, therefore, that he was determined never to allow the states-
general to be convened.  He forbade her to consent to the step under any
circumstances, but ordered her to keep his prohibition a profound secret.
He wished, he said, the people to think that it was only for the moment
that the convocation was forbidden, and that the Duchess was expecting to
receive the necessary permission at another time.  It was his desire, he
distinctly stated, that the people should not despair of obtaining the
assembly, but he was resolved never to consent to the step, for he knew
very well what was meant by a meeting of the States-general.  Certainly
after so ingenuous but secret a declaration from the disciple of
Macchiavelli, Margaret might well consider the arguments to be used
afterward by herself and others, in favor of the ardently desired
measure, as quite superfluous.

Such then was the policy secretly resolved upon by Philip; even before he
heard of the startling events which were afterwards to break upon him.
He would maintain the inquisition and the edicts; he would exterminate
the heretics, even if he lost all his realms and his own life in the
cause; he would never hear of the national representatives coming
together.  What then were likely to be his emotions when he should be
told of twenty thousand armed heretics assembling at one spot, and
fifteen thousand at another, in almost every town in every province, to
practice their blasphemous rites; when he should be told of the whirlwind
which had swept all the ecclesiastical accumulations of ages out of
existence; when he should read Margaret's despairing letters, in which
she acknowledged that she had at last committed an act unworthy of God,
of her King, and of herself, in permitting liberty of worship to the
renegades from the ancient church!

The account given by the Duchess was in truth very dismal.  She said that
grief consumed her soul and crimson suffused her cheeks while she related
the recent transactions.  She took God to witness that she had resisted
long, that she had past many sleepless nights, that she had been wasted
with fever and grief.  After this penitential preface she confessed that,
being a prisoner and almost besieged in her palace, sick in body and
soul, she had promised pardon and security to the confederates, with
liberty of holding assemblies to heretics in places where the practice
had already obtained.  These concessions had been made valid until the
King by and with the consent of the states-general, should definitely
arrange the matter.  She stated, however, that she had given her consent
to these two demands, not in the royal name, but in her own.  The King
was not bound by her promise, and she expreesed the hope that he would
have no regard to any such obligation.  She further implored her brother
to come forth as soon as possibe to avenge the injuries inflicted upon
the ancient church, adding, that if deprived of that consolation, she
should incontinently depart this life.  That hope alone would prevent her
death.

This was certainly strong language.  She was also very explicit in her
representations of the influence which had been used by certain
personages to prevent the exercise of any authority upon her own part.
"Wherefore," said Margaret, "I eat my heart; and shall never have peace
till the arrival of your Majesty."

There was no doubt who those personages were who, as it was pretended,
had thus held the Duchess in bondage, and compelled her to grant these
infamous concessions.  In her secret Italian letters, she furnished the
King with a tissue of most extravagant and improbable falsehoods,
supplied to her mainly by Noircarmes and Mansfeld, as to the course
pursued at this momentous crisis by Orange, Egmont, Horn, and
Hoogstraaten.  They had all, she said, declared against God and against
religion.--Horn, at least, was for killing all the priests and monks in
the country, if full satisfaction were not given to the demands of the
heretics.  Egmont had declared openly for the beggars, and was levying
troops in Germany.  Orange had the firm intention of making himself
master of the whole country, and of dividing it among the other
seigniors and himself.  The Prince had said that if she took
refuge in Mons, as she had proposed, they would instantly convoke the
states-general, and take all necessary measures.  Egmont had held the
same language, saying that he would march at the head of forty thousand
men to besiege her in that city.  All these seigniors, however, had
avowed their determination to prevent her flight, to assemble the
estates, and to drag her by force before the assembly, in order to compel
her consent to every measure which might be deemed expedient.  Under all
these circumstances, she had been obliged to defer her retreat, and to
make the concessions which had overwhelmed her with disgrace.

With such infamous calumnies, utterly disproved by every fact in the
case, and unsupported by a tittle of evidence, save the hearsay reports
of a man like Noircarmes, did this "woman, nourished at Rome, in whom no
one could put confidence," dig the graves of men who were doing their
best to serve her.

Philip's rage at first hearing of the image-breaking has been indicated.
He was ill of an intermittent fever at the wood of Segovia when the news
arrived, and it may well be supposed that his wrath at these proceedings
was not likely to assuage his malady.  Nevertheless, after the first
burst of indignation, he found relief in his usual deception.  While
slowly maturing the most tremendous vengeance which anointed monarch ever
deliberately wreaked upon his people, he wrote to say, that it was "his
intention to treat his vassals and subjects in the provinces like a good
and clement prince, not to ruin them nor to put them into servitude, but
to exercise all humanity, sweetness, and grace, avoiding all harshness."
Such were the avowed intentions of the sovereign towards his people at
the moment when the terrible Alva, who was to be the exponent of all this
"humanity, sweetness, and grace," was already beginning the preparations
for his famous invasion of the Netherlands.

The essence of the compact agreed to upon the 23d August between the
confederates and the Regent, was that the preaching of the reformed
religion should be tolerated in places where it had previously to that
date been established.  Upon this basis Egmont, Horn, Orange,
Hoogstraaten, and others, were directed once more to attempt the
pacification of the different provinces.

Egmont departed for his government of Flanders, and from that moment
vanished all his pretensions, which at best had been, slender enough, to
the character of a national chieftain. During the whole of the year his
course had been changeful. He had felt the influence of Orange; he had
generous instincts; he had much vanity; he had the pride of high rank;
which did not easily brook the domination of strangers, in a land which
he considered himself and his compeers entitled by their birth to rule.
At this juncture, however, particularly when in the company of
Noircarmes, Berlaymont, and Viglius, he expressed, notwithstanding their
calumnious misstatements, the deepest detestation of the heretics.  He
was a fervent Catholic, and he regarded the image-breaking as an unpardon
able crime.  "We must take up arms," said he, "sooner or later, to bring
these Reformers to reason, or they will end by laying down the law for
us."  On the other hand, his anger would be often appeased by the grave
but gracious remonstrances of Orange.  During a part of the summer, the
Reformers had been so strong in Flanders that upon a single day sixty
thousand armed men had been assembled at the different field-preachings
within that province.  "All they needed was a Jacquemart, or a Philip van
Artevelde," says a Catholic, contemporary, "but they would have scorned
to march under the banner of a brewer; having dared to raise their eyes
for a chief, to the most illustrious warrior of his ages."  No doubt, had
Egmont ever listened to these aspirations, he might have taken the field
against the government with an invincible force, seized the capital,
imprisoned the Regent, and mastered the whole country, which was entirely
defenceless, before Philip would have had time to write more than ten
despatches upon the subject.

These hopes of the Reformers, if hopes they could be called, were now
destined to be most bitterly disappointed.  Egmont entered Flanders, not
as a chief of rebels--not as a wise pacificator, but as an unscrupulous
partisan of government, disposed to take summary vengeance on all
suspected persons who should fall in his way.  He ordered numerous
executions of image-breakers and of other heretics.  The whole province
was in a state of alarm; for, although he had not been furnished by the
Regent with a strong body of troops, yet the name of the conqueror at
Saint Quentin and Gravelines was worth many regiments.  His severity was
excessive.  His sanguinary exertions were ably seconded also by his
secretary Bakkerzeel, a man who exercised the greatest influence over his
chief, and who was now fiercely atoning for having signed the Compromise
by persecuting those whom that league had been formed to protect.  "Amid
all the perplexities of the Duchess Regent," Says a Walloon historian,
"this virtuous princess was consoled by the exploits of Bakkerzeel,
gentleman in Count Egmont's service.  On one occasion he hanged twenty
heretics, including a minister, at a single heat."

Such achievements as these by the hands or the orders of the
distinguished general who had been most absurdly held up as a possible
protector of the civil and religious liberties of the country, created
profound sensation.  Flanders and Artois were filled with the wives and
children of suspected I thousands who had fled the country to escape the
wrath of Egmont.  The cries and piteous lamentations of these unfortunate
creatures were heard on every side.  Count Louis was earnestly implored
to intercede for the persecuted Reformers.  "You who have been so nobly
gifted by Heaven, you who have good will and singular bounty written upon
your face," said Utenhove to Louis, "have the power to save these poor
victims from the throats of the ravenous wolves."  The Count responded to
the appeal, and strove to soften the severity of Egmont, without,
however, producing any very signal effect.  Flanders was soon pacified,
nor was that important province permitted to enjoy the benefits of the
agreement which had been extorted, from the Duchess.  The preachings were
forbidden, and the ministers and congregations arrested and chastised,
even in places where the custom had been established previously to the
23d August.  Certainly such vigorous exertions upon the part both of
master and man did not savor of treason to Philip, and hardly seemed to
indicate the final doom of Egmont and Bakkerzeel.

The course of Orange at Antwerp was consistent with his whole career.  He
honestly came to arrange a pacification, but he knew that this end could
be gained only by loyally maintaining the Accord which had been signed
between the confederates and the Regent.  He came back to the city on the
26th August, and found order partially re-established.  The burghers
having at last become thoroughly alarmed, and the fury of the image-
breakers entirely appeased, it had been comparatively easy to restore
tranquillity.  The tranquillity, however, rather restored itself, and
when the calm had succeeded to the tempest, the placid heads of the
burgomasters once, more emerged from the waves.

Three image-breakers, who had been taken in the act, were hanged by order
of the magistrates upon the 28th of August.  The presence of Orange gave
them courage to achieve these executions which he could not prevent, as
the fifth article of the Accord enjoined the chastisement of the rioters.
The magistrates chose that the "chastisement" on this occasion should be
exemplary, and it was not in the power of Orange to interfere with the
regular government of the city when acting according to its laws.  The
deed was not his, however, and he hastened, in order to obviate the
necessity of further violence, to prepare articles of agreement, upon the
basis of Margaret's concessions.  Public preaching, according to the
Reformed religion, had already taken place within the city.  Upon the
22d, possession had been taken of at least three churches.  The senate
had deputed pensionary Wesenbeck to expostulate with the ministers, for
the magistrates were at that moment not able to command.  Taffin, the
Walloon preacher, had been tractable, and had agreed to postpone his
exercises.  He furthermore had accompanied the pensionary to the
cathedral, in order to persuade Herman Modet that it would be better for
him likewise to defer his intended ministrations.  They had found that
eloquent enthusiast already in the great church, burning with impatience
to ascend upon the ruins, and quite unable to resist the temptation of
setting a Flemish psalm and preaching a Flemish sermon within the walls
which had for so many centuries been vocal only to the Roman tongue and
the Roman ritual.  All that he would concede to the entreaties of his
colleague and of the magistrate, was that his sermon should be short.
In this, however, he had overrated his powers of retention, for the
sermon not only became a long one, but he had preached another upon the
afternoon of the same day.  The city of Antwerp, therefore, was clearly
within the seventh clause of the treaty of the 24th August, for preaching
had taken place in the cathedral, previously to the signing of that
Accord.

Upon the 2d September, therefore, after many protracted interview with
the heads of the Reformed religion, the Prince drew up sixteen articles
of agreement between them, the magistrates and the government, which were
duly signed and exchanged.  They were conceived in the true spirit of
statesmanship, and could the rulers of the land have elevated themselves
to the mental height of William de Nassau, had Philip been able of
comprehending such a mind, the Prince, who alone possessed the power in
those distracted times of governing the wills of all men, would have
enabled the monarch to transmit that beautiful cluster of provinces,
without the lose of a single jewel, to the inheritors of his crown.

If the Prince were playing a game, he played it honorably.  To have
conceived the thought of religious toleration in an age of universal
dogmatism; to have labored to produce mutual respect among conflicting
opinions, at a period when many Dissenters were as bigoted as the
orthodox, and when most Reformers fiercely proclaimed not liberty for
every Christian doctrine, but only a new creed in place of all the rest,
--to have admitted the possibility of several roads, to heaven, when
zealots of all creeds would shut up all pathways but their own; if such
sentiments and purposes were sins, they would have been ill-exchanged for
the best virtues of the age.  Yet, no doubt, this was his crying offence
in the opinion of many contemporaries.  He was now becoming apostate from
the ancient Church, but he had long thought that Emperors, Kings, and
Popes had taken altogether too much care of men's souls in times past,
and had sent too many of them prematurely to their great account.
He was equally indisposed to grant full-powers for the same purpose to
Calvinists, Lutherans, or Anabaptists.  "He censured the severity of our
theologians," said a Catholic contemporary, accumulating all the
religious offences of the Prince in a single paragraph, "because they
keep strictly the constitutions of the Church without conceding a single
point to their adversaries; he blamed the Calvinists as seditious and
unruly people, yet nevertheless had a horror for the imperial edicts
which condemned them to death; he said it was a cruel thing to take a
man's life for sustaining an erroneous opinion; in short, he fantasied in
his imagination a kind of religion, half Catholic, half Reformed, in
order to content all persons; a system which would have been adopted
could he have had his way."  This picture, drawn by one of his most
brilliant and bitter enemies, excites our admiration while intended to
inspire aversion.

The articles of agreement at Antwerp thus promulgated assigned three
churches to the different sects of reformers, stipulated that no attempt
should be made by Catholics or Protestants to disturb the religious
worship of each other, and provided that neither by mutual taunts in
their sermons, nor by singing street ballads, together with improper
allusions and overt acts of hostility, should the good-fellowship which
ought to reign between brethren and fellow-citizens, even although
entertaining different opinions as to religious rites and doctrines, be
for the future interrupted.

This was the basis upon which the very brief religious peace, broken
almost as soon as established, was concluded by William of Orange, not
only at Antwerp, but at Utrecht, Amsterdam, and other principal cities
within his government.  The Prince, however, notwithstanding his
unwearied exertions, had slender hopes of a peaceful result.  He felt
that the last step taken by the Reformation had been off a precipice.  He
liked not such rapid progress.  He knew that the King would never forgive
the image-breaking.  He felt that he would never recognize the Accord of
the 24th August.  Sir Thomas Gresham, who, as the representative of the
Protestant Queen of England in the great commercial metropolis of Europe,
was fully conversant with the turn things were taking, was already
advising some other place for the sale of English commodities.  He gave
notice to his government that commerce would have no security at Antwerp
"in those brabbling times."  He was on confidential terms with the
Prince, who invited him to dine upon the 4th September, and caused
pensionary Wesenbeck, who was also present, to read aloud the agreement
which was that day to be proclaimed at the town-house.  Orange expressed
himself, however, very doubtfully as to the future prospects of the
provinces, and as to the probable temper of the King.  "In all his
talke," says Gresham, "the Prince aside unto me, 'I know this will
nothing contente the King!'"

While Egmont had been, thus busied in Flanders, and Orange at Antwerp,
Count Horn had been doing his best in the important city of Tournay. The
Admiral was not especially gifted with intellect, nor with the power of
managing men, but he went there with an honest purpose of seeing the
Accord executed, intending, if it should prove practicable, rather to
favor the Government than the Reformers.  At the same time, for the
purpose of giving satisfaction to the members of "the religion," and of
manifesting his sincere desire for a pacification, he accepted lodgings
which had been prepared for him at the house of a Calvinist merchant in
the city, rather, than, take up his quarters with fierce old governor
Moulbais, in the citadel.  This gave much offence to the Catholics; and
inspired the Reformers, with the hope of having their preaching inside
the town.  To this privilege they were entitled, for the practice had
already been established there, previously to the 24th October.
Nevertheless, at first he was disposed to limit them, in accordance with
the wishes of the Duchess, to extra-mural exercises.

Upon his arrival, by a somewhat ominous conjuncture, he had supped with
some of the leading citizens in the hall of the "gehenna" or torture
room, certainly not a locality calculated to inspire a healthy appetite.
On the following Sunday he had been entertained with a great banquet, at
which all the principal burghers were present, held in a house on the
market-place.  The festivities had been interrupted by a quarrel, which
had been taking place in the cathedral.  Beneath the vaults of that
edifice, tradition said that a vast treasure was hidden, and the canons
had been known to boast that this buried wealth would be sufficient to
rebuild their temple more magnificently than ever, in case of its total
destruction.  The Admiral had accordingly placed a strong guard in the
church as soon as he arrived, and commenced very extensive excavations in
search of this imaginary mine.  The Regent informed her brother that the
Count was prosecuting this work with the view of appropriating whatever
might be found to his own benefit.  As she knew that he was a ruined
man, there seemed no more satisfactory mode of accounting for these
proceedings.  Horn had, however, expressly stated to her that every penny
which should come into his possession from that or any other source would
carefully be restored to the rightful owners.  Nothing of consequence was
ever found to justify the golden legends of the monks, but in the mean
time the money-diggers gave great offence.  The canons, naturally alarmed
for the safety of their fabulous treasure, had forced the guard, by
surreptitiously obtaining the countersign from a certain official of the
town.  A quarrel ensued which ended in the appearance of this personage,
together with the commander of the military force on guard in the
cathedral, before the banqueting company.  The Count, in the rough way
habitual with him, gave the culprit a sound rebuke for his intermeddling,
and threatened, in case the offence were repeated, to have him instantly
bound, gagged, and forwarded to Brussels for further punishment.  The
matter thus satisfactorily adjusted, the banquet proceeded, the merchants
present being all delighted at seeing the said official, who was
exceedingly, unpopular, "so well huffed by the Count."  The excavations
were continued for along time, until there seemed danger of destroying
the foundation of the church, but only a few bits of money were
discovered, with some other articles of small value.

Horn had taken his apartments in the city in order to be at hand to
suppress any tumults, and to inspire confidence in the people.  He had
come to a city where five sixths of the inhabitants--were of the reformed
religion, and he did not, therefore, think it judicious to attempt
violently the suppression of their worship.  Upon his arrival he had
issued a proclamation, ordering that all property which might have been
pillaged from the religious houses should be instantly restored to the
magistracy, under penalty that all who disobeyed the command should "be
forthwith strangled at the gibbet."  Nothing was brought back, however,
for the simple reason that nothing had been stolen.  There was,
therefore, no one to be strangled.

The next step was to publish the Accord of 24th August, and to signify
the intention of the Admiral to enforce its observance.  The preachings
were as enthusiastically attended as ever, while the storm which had been
raging among the images had in the mean time been entirely allayed.
Congregations of fifteen thousand were still going to hear Ambrose Wille
in the suburbs, but they were very tranquil in their demeanor.  It was
arranged between the Admiral and the leaders of the reformed
consistories, that three places, to be selected by Horn, should be
assigned for their places of worship.  At these spots, which were outside
the walls, permission was given the Reformers to build meeting-houses.
To this arrangement the Duchess formally gave her consent.

Nicholas Taffin; councillor, in the name of the Reformers, made "a brave
and elegant harangue" before the magistrates, representing that, as on
the most moderate computation, three quarters of the population were
dissenters, as the Regent had ordered the construction of the new
temples, and as the Catholics retained possession of all the churches in
the city, it was no more than fair that the community should bear the
expense of the new buildings.  It was indignantly replied, however, that
Catholics could not be expected to pay for the maintenance of heresy,
particularly when they had just been so much exasperated by the image-
breaking Councillor Taffin took nothing, therefore by his "brave and
elegant harangue," saving a small vote of forty livres.

The building was, however, immediately commenced.  Many nobles and rich
citizens contributed to the work; some making donations in money; others
giving quantities of oaks, poplars, elms, and other timber trees, to be
used in the construction.  The foundation of the first temple outside the
Ports de Cocquerel was immediately laid.  Vast heaps of broken images and
other ornaments of the desecrated churches were most unwisely used for
this purpose, and the Catholics were exceedingly enraged at beholding
those male and female saints, who had for centuries been placed in such
"reverend and elevated positions," fallen so low as to be the foundation-
stones of temples whose builders denounced all those holy things as
idols.

As the autumn began to wane, the people were clamorous for permission to
have their preaching inside the city.  The new buildings could not be
finished before the winter; but in the mean time the camp-meetings were
becoming, in the stormy seasons fast approaching, a very inconvenient
mode of worship.  On the other hand, the Duchess was furious at the
proposition, and commanded Horn on no account to consent that the
interior of Tournay should be profaned by these heretical rites.  It was
in vain that the Admiral represented the justice of the claim, as these
exercises had taken place in several of the city churches previously to
the Accord of the 24th of August.

That agreement had been made by the Duchess only to be broken.  She had
already received money and the permission to make levies, and was fast
assuming a tone very different from the abject demeanor which had
characterized her in August.  Count Horn had been used even as Egmont,
Orange and Hoogstraaten had been employed, in order that their personal
influence with the Reformers might be turned to account.  The tools and
the work accomplished by them were to be thrown away at the most
convenient opportunity.

The Admiral was placed in a most intolerable position.  An honest,
common-place, sullen kind of man, he had come to a city full of heretics,
to enforce concessions just made by the government to heresy.  He soon
found himself watched, paltered with, suspected by the administration at
Brussels.  Governor Moulbais in the citadel, who was nominally under his
authority, refused obedience to his orders, was evidently receiving
secret instructions from the Regent, and was determined to cannonade the
city into submission at a very early day.  Horn required him to pledge
himself that no fresh troops should enter the castle.  Moulbais swore he
would make no such promise to a living soul.  The Admiral stormed with
his usual violence, expressed his regret that his brother Montigny had so
bad a lieutenant in the citadel, but could make no impression upon the
determined veteran, who knew, better than Horn, the game which was
preparing.  Small reinforcements were daily arriving at the castle; the
soldiers of the garrison had been heard to boast "that they would soon
carve and eat the townsmen's flesh on their dressers," and all the good
effect from the Admiral's proclamation on arriving, had completely
vanished.

Horn complained bitterly of the situation in which he was placed.
He knew himself the mark of incessant and calumnious misrepresentation
both at Brussels and Madrid.  He had been doing his best, at a momentous
crisis, to serve the government without violating its engagements, but he
declared himself to be neither theologian nor jurist, and incapable,
while suspected and unassisted, of performing a task which the most
learned doctors of the council would find impracticable.  He would
rather, he bitterly exclaimed, endure a siege in any fortress by the
Turks, than be placed in such a position.  He was doing all that he was
capable of doing, yet whatever he did was wrong.  There was a great
difference, he said, between being in a place and talking about it at a
distance.

In the middle of October he was recalled by the Duchess, whose letters
had been uniformly so ambiguous that he confessed he was quite unable to
divine their meaning.  Before he left the city, he committed his most
unpardonable crime.  Urged by the leaders of the reformed congregations
to permit their exercises in the Clothiers' Hall until their temples
should be finished, the Count accorded his consent provisionally, and
subject to revocation by the Regent, to whom the arrangement was
immediately to be communicated.

Horn departed, and the Reformers took instant possession of the hall.
It was found in a very dirty and disorderly condition, encumbered with
benches, scaffoldings, stakes, gibbets, and all the machinery used for
public executions upon the market-place.  A vast body of men went to work
with a will; scrubbing, cleaning, whitewashing, and removing all the foul
lumber of the hall; singing in chorus, as they did so, the hymns of
Clement Marot.  By dinner-time the place was ready.  The pulpit and
benches for the congregation had taken the place of the gibbet timber.
It is difficult to comprehend that such work as this was a deadly crime.
Nevertheless, Horn, who was himself a sincere Catholic, had committed the
most mortal of all his offences against Philip and against God, by having
countenanced so flagitious a transaction.

The Admiral went to Brussels.  Secretary de la Torre, a very second-rate
personage, was despatched to Tournay to convey the orders of the Regent.
Governor Moulbais, now in charge of affairs both civil and military, was
to prepare all things for the garrison, which was soon to be despatched
under Noircarmes.  The Duchess had now arms in her hands, and her
language was bold.  La Torre advised the Reformers to be wise "while the
rod was yet green and growing, lest it should be gathered for their
backs; for it was unbecoming is subjects to make bargains with their
King."  There was hardly any decent pretext used in violating the Accord
of the 24th August, so soon as the government was strong enough to break
it.  It was always said that the preachings suppressed, had not been
established previously to that arrangement; but the preachings had in
reality obtained almost every where, and were now universally abolished.
The ridiculous quibble was also used that, in the preachings other
religious exercises were not included, whereas it was notorious that they
had never been separated.  It is, however, a gratuitous task, to unravel
the deceptions of tyranny when it hardly deigns to disguise itself.  The
dissimulations which have resisted the influence of centuries are more
worthy of serious investigation, and of these the epoch offers us a
sufficient supply.

At the close of the year, the city of Tournay was completely subjugated
and the reformed religion suppressed.  Upon the 2nd day of January, 1567,
the Seignior de Noircarmes arrived before the gates at the head of eleven
companies, with orders from Duchess Margaret to strengthen the garrison
and disarm the citizens.  He gave the magistrates exactly one hour and a
half to decide whether they would submit without a murmur.  He expressed
an intention of maintaining the Accord of 24th August; a ridiculous
affectation under the circumstances, as the event proved.  The notables
were summoned, submission agreed upon, and within the prescribed time the
magistrates came before Noircarmes, with an unconditional acceptance of
his terms.  That truculent personage told them, in reply, that they had
done wisely, for if they had delayed receiving the garrison a minute
longer, he would have instantly burned the city to ashes and put every
one of the inhabitants to the sword.  He had been fully authorized to do
so, and subsequent events were to show, upon more than one dreadful
occasion, how capable Noircarmes would have been of fulfilling this
menace.

The soldiers, who had made a forced march all night, and who had been
firmly persuaded that the city would refuse the terms demanded, were
excessively disappointed at being obliged to forego the sack and pillage
upon which they had reckoned.  Eight or nine hundred rascally peasants,
too, who had followed in the skirts of the regiments, each provided with
a great empty bag, which they expected to fill with booty which they
might purchase of the soldiers, or steal in the midst of the expected
carnage and rapine, shared the discontent of the soldiery, by whom they
were now driven ignominiously out of the town.

The citizens were immediately disarmed.  All the fine weapons which they
had been obliged to purchase at their own expense, when they had been
arranged by the magistrates under eight banners, for defence of the city
against tumult and invasion, were taken from them; the most beautiful
cutlasses, carbines, poniards, and pistols, being divided by Noircarmes
among his officers.  Thus Tournay was tranquillized.

During the whole of these proceedings in Flanders, and at Antwerp,
Tournay, and Mechlin, the conduct of the Duchess had been marked with
more than her usual treachery.  She had been disavowing acts which
the men upon whom she relied in her utmost need had been doing by her
authority; she had been affecting to praise their conduct, while she
was secretly misrepresenting their actions and maligning their motives,
and she had been straining every nerve to make foreign levies, while
attempting to amuse the confederates and sectaries with an affectation
of clemency.

When Orange complained that she had been censuring his proceedings at
Antwerp, and holding language unfavorable to his character, she protested
that she thoroughly approved his arrangements--excepting only the two
points of the intramural preachings and the permission to heretics of
other exercises than sermons--and that if she were displeased with him he
might be sure that she would rather tell him so than speak ill of him
behind his back.  The Prince, who had been compelled by necessity, and
fully authorized by the terms of the "Accord", to grant those two points
which were the vital matter in his arrangements, answered very calmly,
that he was not so frivolous as to believe in her having used language to
his discredit had he not been quite certain of the fact, as he would soon
prove by evidence.  Orange was not the man to be deceived as to the
position in which he stood, nor as to the character of those with whom
he dealt.  Margaret wrote, however, in the same vein concerning him to
Hoogstmaten, affirming that nothing could be further from her intention
than to characterize the proceedings of "her cousin, the Prince of
Orange, as contrary to the service of his Majesty; knowing, as she did,
how constant had been his affection, and how diligent his actions, in the
cause of God and the King."

She also sent councillor d'Assonleville on a special mission to the
Prince, instructing that smooth personage to inform her said cousin of
Orange that he was and always had been "loved and cherished by his
Majesty, and that for herself she had ever loved him like a brother or a
child."

She wrote to Horn, approving of his conduct in the main, although in
obscure terms, and expressing great confidence in his zeal, loyalty, and
good intentions.  She accorded the same praise to Hoogstraaten, while as
to Egmont she was perpetually reproaching him for the suspicions which he
seemed obstinately to entertain as to her disposition and that of Philip,
in regard to his conduct and character.

It has already been partly seen what were her private sentiments and
secret representations as to the career of the distinguished personages
thus encouraged and commended.  Her pictures were painted in daily
darkening colors.  She told her brother that Orange, Egmont, and Horn
were about to place themselves at the head of the confederates, who were
to take up arms and had been levying troops; that the Lutheran religion
was to be forcibly established, that the whole power of the government
was to be placed in the triumvirate thus created by those seigniors, and
that Philip was in reality to be excluded entirely from those provinces
which were his ancient patrimony.  All this information she had obtained
from Mansfeld, at whom the nobles were constantly sneering as at a
faithful valet who would never receive his wages.

She also informed the King that the scheme for dividing the country was
already arranged: that Augustus of Saxony was to have Friesland and
Overyssel; Count Brederode, Holland; the Dukes of Cleves and Lorraine,
Gueldres; the King of France, Flanders, Artois, and Hainault, of which
territories Egmont was to be perpetual stadholder; the Prince of Orange,
Brabant; and so on indefinitely.  A general massacre of all the Catholics
had been arranged by Orange, Horn, and Egmont, to commence as soon as the
King should put his foot on shipboard to come to the country.  This last
remarkable fact Margaret reported to Philip, upon the respectable
authority of Noircarmes.

She apologized for having employed the service of these nobles, on the
ground of necessity.  Their proceedings in Flanders, at Antwerp, Tournay,
Mechlin, had been highly reprehensible, and she had been obliged to
disavow them in the most important particulars.  As for Egmont, she had
most unwillingly entrusted forces to his hands for the purpose of putting
down the Flemish sectaries.  She had been afraid to show a want of
confidence in his character, but at the same time she believed that
all soldiers under Egmont's orders would be so many enemies to the king.
Notwithstanding his protestations of fidelity to the ancient religion and
to his Majesty, she feared that he was busied with some great plot
against God and the King.  When we remember the ruthless manner in which
the unfortunate Count had actually been raging against the sectaries, and
the sanguinary proofs which he had been giving of his fidelity to "God
and the King," it seems almost incredible that Margaret could have
written down all these monstrous assertions.

The Duchess gave, moreover, repeated warnings to her brother,
that the nobles were in the habit of obtaining possession of all the
correspondence between Madrid and Brussels; and that they spent a vast
deal of money in order to read her own and Philip's most private letters.
She warned him therefore, to be upon his guard, for she believed that
almost all their despatches were read.  Such being the cases and the
tenor of those documents being what we have seen it to be, her complaints
as to the incredulity of those seigniors to her affectionate
protestations, seem quite wonderful.




CHAPTER IX., Part 1., 1566

     Position of Orange--The interview at Dendermonde--The supposititious
     letters of Alava--Views of Egmont--Isolation of Orange--Conduct of
     Egmont and of Horn--Confederacy, of the nobles dissolved--Weak
     behavior of prominent personages----Watchfulness of Orange--
     Convocation of States General demanded--Pamphlet of Orange--City of
     Valenciennes refuses a garrison--Influence of La Grange and De Bray
     --City, declared in a state of siege--Invested by Noircarmes--
     Movements to relieve the place--Calvinists defeated at Lannoy and at
     Waterlots--Elation of the government--The siege pressed more
     closely--Cruelties practised upon the country people--Courage of the
     inhabitants--Remonstrance to the Knights of the Fleece--Conduct of
     Brederode--Orange at Amsterdam--New Oath demanded by Government--
     Orange refuses--He offers his resignation of all offices--Meeting at
     Breda--New "Request" of Brederode--He creates disturbances and
     levies troops in Antwerp--Conduct of Hoogstraaten--Plans of
     Brederode--Supposed connivance of Orange--Alarm at Brussels--
     Tholouse at Ostrawell--Brederode in Holland--De Beauvoir defeats
     Tholouse--Excitement at Antwerp--Determined conduct of Orange--Three
     days' tumult at Antwerp suppressed by the wisdom and courage of
     Orange.

It is necessary to allude to certain important events contemporaneous
with those recorded in the last chapter, that the reader may thoroughly
understand the position of the leading personages in this great drama at
the close of the year 1566.

The Prince of Orange had, as we have seen, bean exerting all his energies
faithfully to accomplish the pacification of the commercial metropolis,
upon the basis assented to beforehand by the Duchess.  He had established
a temporary religious peace, by which alone at that crisis the gathering
tempest could be averted; but he had permitted the law to take its course
upon certain rioters, who had been regularly condemned by courts of
justice.  He had worked day and night--notwithstanding immense obstacles,
calumnious misstatements, and conflicting opinions--to restore order out
of chaos; he had freely imperilled his own life--dashing into a
tumultuous mob on one occasion, wounding several with the halberd which
he snatched from one of his guard, and dispersing almost with his single
arm a dangerous and threatening insurrection--and he had remained in
Antwerp, at the pressing solicitations of the magistracy, who represented
that the lives of not a single ecclesiastic would be safe as soon as his
back was turned, and that all the merchants would forthwith depart from
the city.  It was nevertheless necessary that he should make a personal
visit to his government of Holland, where similar disorders had been
prevailing, and where men of all ranks and parties were clamoring for
their stadholder.

Notwithstanding all his exertions however, he was thoroughly aware of the
position in which he stood towards the government.  The sugared phrases
of Margaret, the deliberate commendation of the "benign and debonair"
Philip, produced no effect upon this statesman, who was accustomed to
look through and through men's actions to the core of their hearts.  In
the hearts of Philip and Margaret he already saw treachery and revenge
indelibly imprinted.  He had been especially indignant at the insult
which the Duchess Regent had put upon him, by sending Duke Eric of
Brunswick with an armed force into Holland in order to protect Gouda,
Woerden, and other places within the Prince's own government.  He was
thoroughly conversant with the general tone in which the other seigniors
and himself were described to their sovereign.  He, was already convinced
that the country was to be conquered by foreign mercenaries, and that his
own life, with these of many other nobles, was to be sacrificed.  The
moment had arrived in which he was justified in looking about him for
means of defence, both for himself and his country, if the King should
be so insane as to carry out the purposes which the Prince suspected.
The time was fast approaching in which a statesman placed upon such an
elevation before the world as that which he occupied, would be obliged to
choose his part for life.  To be the unscrupulous tool of tyranny, a
rebel, or an exile, was his necessary fate.  To a man so prone to read
the future, the moment for his choice seemed already arrived.  Moreover,
he thought it doubtful, and events were most signally to justify his
doubts, whether he could be accepted as the instrument of despotism, even
were he inclined to prostitute himself to such service.  At this point,
therefore, undoubtedly began the treasonable thoughts of William the
Silent, if it be treason to attempt the protection of ancient and
chartered liberties against a foreign oppressor.  He despatched a private
envoy to Egmont, representing the grave suspicions manifested by the
Duchess in sending Duke Eric into Holland, and proposing that means
should be taken into consideration for obviating the dangers with which
the country was menaced.  Catholics as well as Protestants, he intimated,
were to be crushed in one universal conquest as soon as Philip had
completed the formidable preparations which he was making for invading
the provinces.  For himself, he said, he would not remain in the land to
witness the utter desolation of the people, nor to fall an unresisting
victim to the vengeance which he foresaw.  If, however, he might rely
upon the co-operation of Egmont and Horn, he was willing, with the advice
of the states-general, to risk preparations against the armed invasion of
Spaniards by which the country was to be reduced to slavery.  It was
incumbent, however, upon men placed as they were, "not to let the grass
grow under their feet;" and the moment for action was fast approaching.

This was the scheme which Orange was willing to attempt.  To make use
of his own influence and that of his friends, to interpose between a
sovereign insane with bigotry, and a people in a state of religious
frenzy, to resist brutal violence if need should be by force, and to
compel the sovereign to respect the charters which he had sworn to
maintain, and which were far more ancient than his sovereignty; so much
of treason did William of Orange already contemplate, for in no other way
could he be loyal to his country and his own honor.

Nothing came of this secret embassy, for Egmont's heart and fate were
already fixed.  Before Orange departed, however; for the north, where his
presence in the Dutch provinces was now imperatively required, a
memorable interview took place at Dendermonde between Orange, Horn,
Egmont, Hoogstraaten, and Count Louis.  The nature of this conference was
probably similar to that of the secret mission from Orange to Egmont just
recorded.  It was not a long consultation.  The gentlemen met at eleven
o'clock, and conversed until dinner was ready, which was between twelve
and one in the afternoon.  They discussed the contents of a letter
recently received by Horn from his brother Montigny at Segovia, giving a
lively picture of Philip's fury at the recent events in the Netherlands,
and expressing the Baron's own astonishment and indignation that it had
been impossible for the seigniors to prevent such outrages as the public
preaching, the image-breaking and the Accord.  They had also some
conversation concerning the dissatisfaction manifested by the Duchess at
the proceedings of Count Horn at Tournay, and they read a very remarkable
letter which had been furnished them, as having been written by the
Spanish envoy in Paris, Don Francis of Alava, to Margaret of Parma.  This
letter was forged.  At least the Regent, in her Italian correspondence,
asserted it to be fictitious, and in those secret letters to Philip she
usually told the truth.  The astuteness of William of Orange had in this
instance been deceived.  The striking fidelity, however, with which the
present and future policy of the government was sketched, the accuracy
with which many unborn events were foreshadowed, together with the minute
touches which gave an air of genuineness to the fictitious despatch,
might well deceive even so sagacious an observer as the Prince.

The letters alluded to the deep and long-settled hostility of Philip
to Orange, Horn, and Egmont, as to a fact entirely within the writer's
knowledge, and that of his correspondent, but urged upon the Duchess the
assumption of an extraordinary degree of apparent cordiality in her
intercourse with them.  It was the King's intention to use them and to
destroy them, said the writer, and it was the Regent's duty to second the
design.  "The tumults and troubles have not been without their secret
concurrence," said the supposititious Alava, "and your Highness may rest
assured that they will be the first upon whom his Majesty will seize, not
to confer benefits, but to chastise them as they deserve.  Your Highness,
however, should show no symptom of displeasure, but should constantly
maintain in their minds the idea that his Majesty considers them as the
most faithful of his servants.  While they are persuaded of this, they
can be more easily used, but when the time comes, they will be treated in
another manner.  Your Highness may rest assured that his Majesty is not
less inclined than your Highness that they should receive the punishment
which they merit."  The Duchess was furthermore recommended "to deal with
the three seigniors according to the example of the Spanish Governments
in its intercourse with the envoys, Bergen and Montigny, who are met with
a smiling face, but who are closely watched, and who will never be
permitted to leave Spain alive."  The remainder of the letter alludes to
supposed engagements between France and Spain for the extirpation of
heresy, from which allusion to the generally accepted but mistaken notion
as to the Bayonne conference, a decided proof seems to be furnished that
the letter was not genuine.  Great complaints, however, are made, as to
the conduct of the Queen Regent, who is described as "a certain lady well
known to her Highness, and as a person without faith, friendship, or
truth; the most consummate hypocrite in the world."  After giving
instances of the duplicity manifested by Catherine de Medici, the writer
continues: "She sends her little black dwarf to me upon frequent errands,
in order that by means of this spy she may worm out my secrets.  I am,
however, upon my guard, and flatter myself that I learn more from him
than she from me.  She shall never be able to boast of having deceived a
Spaniard."

An extract or two from this very celebrated document seemed
indispensable, because of the great importance attached to it, both at
the Dendermonde Conference, and at the trials of Egmont and Horn.  The
contemporary writers of Holland had no doubt of its genuineness, and what
is more remarkable, Strada, the historiographer of the Farnese family,
after quoting Margaret's denial of the authenticity of the letter, coolly
observes: "Whether this were only an invention of the conspirators, or
actually a despatch from Alava, I shall not decide.  It is certain,
however, that the Duchess declared it to be false."

Certainly, as we read the epistles, and observe how profoundly the writer
seems to have sounded the deep guile of the Spanish Cabinet, and how
distinctly events, then far in the future, are indicated, we are tempted
to exclaim: "aut Alava, aut Diabolus;" either the envoy wrote the
despatch, or Orange.  Who else could look into the future, and into
Philip's heart so unerringly?

As the charge has never been made, so far as we are aware, against the
Prince, it is superfluous to discuss the amount of immorality which
should belong to such a deception.  A tendency to employ stratagem in his
warfare against Spain was, no doubt, a blemish upon his--high character.
Before he is condemned, however, in the Court of Conscience, the
ineffable wiles of the policy with which he had to combat must be
thoroughly scanned, as well as the pure and lofty purpose for which
his life's long battle was fought.

There was, doubtless, some conversation at Dendermonde on the propriety
or possibility of forcible resistance to a Spanish army, with which it
seemed probable that Philip was about to invade the provinces, and take
the lives of the leading nobles.  Count Louis was in favor of making
provision in Germany for the accomplishment of this purpose.  It is also
highly probable that the Prince may have encouraged the proposition.  In
the sense of his former communication to Egmont, he may have reasoned on
the necessity of making levies to sustain the decisions of the states-
general against violence.  There is, however, no proof of any such fact.
Egmont, at any rate, opposed the scheme, on the ground that "it was wrong
to entertain any such ill opinion of so good a king as Philip, that he
had never done any thing unjust towards his subjects, and that if any one
was in fear, he had better leave the country."

Egmont, moreover; doubted the authenticity of the letters from Alava,
but agreed to carry them to Brussels, and to lay them before the Regent.
That lady, when she saw them, warmly assured the Count that they were
inventions.

The Conference broke up after it had lasted an hour and a half.  The
nobles then went to dinner, at which other persons appear to have been
present, and the celebrated Dendermonde meeting was brought to a close.
After the repast was finished, each of the five nobles mounted his horse,
and departed on his separate way.

From this time forth the position of, these leading seigniors became more
sharply defined.  Orange was left in almost complete isolation.  Without
the assistance of Egmont, any effective resistance to the impending
invasion from Spain seemed out of the question.  The Count, however, had
taken his irrevocable and fatal resolution.  After various oscillations
during the stormy period which had elapsed, his mind, notwithstanding all
the disturbing causes by which it had hitherto been partially influenced,
now pointed steadily to the point of loyalty.  The guidance of that pole
star was to lead him to utter shipwreck.  The unfortunate noble,
entrenched against all fear of Philip by the brazen wall of an easy
conscience; saw no fault in his past at which he should grow pale with
apprehension.  Moreover, he was sanguine by nature, a Catholic in
religion, a royalist from habit and conviction.  Henceforth he was
determined that his services to the crown should more than counterbalance
any idle speeches or insolent demonstrations of which he might have been
previously guilty.

Horn pursued a different course, but one which separated him also from
the Prince, while it led to the same fate which Egmont was blindly
pursuing.--The Admiral had committed no act of treason.  On the contrary,
he had been doing his best, under most difficult circumstances, to avert
rebellion and save the interests of a most ungrateful sovereign.  He was
now disposed to wrap himself in his virtue, to retreat from a court life,
for which he had never felt a vocation, and to resign all connection with
a government by which he felt himself very badly, treated.  Moody,
wrathful, disappointed, ruined, and calumniated, he would no longer keep
terms with King or Duchess.  He had griefs of long standing against the
whole of the royal family.  He had never forgiven the Emperor for
refusing him, when young, the appointment of chamberlain.  He had served
Philip long and faithfully, but he had never received a stiver of salary
or "merced," notwithstanding all his work as state councillor, as
admiral, as superintendent in Spain; while his younger brother had long
been in receipt of nine or ten thousand florins yearly.  He had spent
four hundred thousand florins in the King's service; his estates were
mortgaged to their full value; he had been obliged to sell, his family
plate.  He had done his best in Tourney to serve the Duchess, and he had
averted the "Sicilian vespers," which had been imminent at his arrival.
He had saved the Catholics from a general massacre, yet he heard
nevertheless from Montigny, that all his actions were distorted in Spain,
and his motives blackened.  His heart no longer inclined him to continue
in Philip's service, even were he furnished with the means of doing so.
He had instructed his secretary, Alonzo de la Loo, whom he had despatched
many months previously to Madrid, that he was no longer to press his
master's claims for a "merced," but to signify that he abandoned all
demands and resigned all posts.  He could turn hermit for the rest of his
days, as well as the Emperor Charles.  If he had little, he could live
upon little.  It was in this sense that he spoke to Margaret of Parma,
to Assonleville, to all around him.  It was precisely in this strain and
temper that he wrote to Philip, indignantly defending his course at
Tourney, protesting against the tortuous conduct of the Duchess, and
bluntly declaring that he would treat no longer with ladies upon matters
which concerned a man's honor.

Thus, smarting under a sense of gross injustice, the Admiral expressed
himself in terms which Philip was not likely to forgive.  He had
undertaken the pacification of Tournay, because it was Montigny's
government, and he had promised his services whenever they should be
requisite.  Horn was a loyal and affectionate brother, and it is pathetic
to find him congratulating Montigny on being, after all, better off in
Spain than in the Netherlands.  Neither loyalty nor the sincere
Catholicism for which Montigny at this period commended Horn in his
private letters, could save the two brothers from the doom which was now
fast approaching.

Thus Horn, blind as Egmont--not being aware that a single step beyond
implicit obedience had created an impassable gulf between Philip and
himself--resolved to meet his destiny in sullen retirement.  Not an
entirely disinterested man, perhaps, but an honest one, as the world
went, mediocre in mind, but brave, generous, and direct of purpose,
goaded by the shafts of calumny, hunted down by the whole pack which
fawned upon power as it grew more powerful, he now retreated to his
"desert," as he called his ruined home at Weert, where he stood at bay,
growling defiance at the Regent, at Philip, at all the world.

Thus were the two prominent personages upon whose co-operation Orange
had hitherto endeavored to rely, entirely separated from him.  The
confederacy of nobles, too, was dissolved, having accomplished little,
notwithstanding all its noisy demonstrations, and having lost all credit
with the people by the formal cessation of the Compromise in consequence
of the Accord of August.  As a body, they had justified the sarcasm of
Hubert Languet, that "the confederated nobles had ruined their country by
their folly and incapacity."  They had profaned a holy cause by indecent
orgies, compromised it by seditious demonstrations, abandoned it when
most in need of assistance.  Bakkerzeel had distinguished himself by
hanging sectaries in Flanders.  "Golden Fleece" de Hammes, after creating
great scandal in and about Antwerp, since the Accord, had ended by
accepting an artillery commission in the Emperor's army, together with
three hundred crowns for convoy from Duchess Margaret.  Culemburg was
serving the cause of religious freedom by defacing the churches within
his ancestral domains, pulling down statues, dining in chapels and giving
the holy wafer to his parrot.  Nothing could be more stupid than these
acts of irreverence, by which Catholics were offended and honest patriots
disgusted.  Nothing could be more opposed to the sentiments of Orange,
whose first principle was abstinence by all denominations of Christians
from mutual insults.  At the same time, it is somewhat revolting to
observe the indignation with which such offences were regarded by men of
the most abandoned character.  Thus, Armenteros, whose name was
synonymous with government swindling, who had been rolling up money year
after year, by peculations, auctioneering of high posts in church and
state, bribes, and all kinds of picking and stealing, could not contain
his horror as he referred to wafers eaten by parrots, or "toasted on
forks" by renegade priests; and poured out his emotions on the subject
into the faithful bosom of Antonio Perez, the man with whose
debaucheries, political villanies, and deliberate murders all
Europe was to ring.

No doubt there were many individuals in the confederacy for whom it was
reserved to render honorable service in the national cause.  The names of
Louis Nassau, Mamix of St. Aldegonde, Bernard de Merode, were to be
written in golden letters in their country's rolls; but at this moment
they were impatient, inconsiderate, out of the control of Orange.  Louis
was anxious for the King to come from Spain with his army, and for "the
bear dance to begin."  Brederode, noisy, bawling, and absurd as ever,
was bringing ridicule upon the national cause by his buffoonery, and
endangering the whole people by his inadequate yet rebellious exertions.

What course was the Prince of Orange to adopt?  He could find no one
to comprehend his views.  He felt certain at the close of the year that
the purpose of the government was fixed.  He made no secret of his
determination never to lend himself as an instrument for the contemplated
subjugation of the people.  He had repeatedly resigned all his offices.
He was now determined that the resignation once for all should be
accepted.  If he used dissimulation, it was because Philip's deception
permitted no man to be frank.  If the sovereign constantly disavowed
all hostile purposes against his people, and manifested extreme affection
for the men whom he had already doomed to the scaffold, how could the
Prince openly denounce him?  It was his duty to save his country and his
friends from impending ruin.  He preserved, therefore, an attitude of
watchfulness.  Philip, in the depth of his cabinet, was under a constant
inspection by the sleepless Prince.  The sovereign assured his sister
that her apprehensions about their correspondence was groundless.  He
always locked up his papers, and took the key with him.  Nevertheless,
the key was taken out of his pocket and the papers read.  Orange was
accustomed to observe, that men of leisure might occupy themselves with
philosophical pursuits and with the secrets of nature, but that it was
his business to study the hearts of kings.  He knew the man and the woman
with whom he had to deal.  We have seen enough of the policy secretly
pursued by Philip and Margaret to appreciate the accuracy with which the
Prince, groping as it were in the dark, had judged the whole situation.
Had his friends taken his warnings, they might have lived to render
services against tyranny.  Had he imitated their example of false
loyalty, there would have been one additional victim, more illustrious
than all the rest, and a whole country hopelessly enslaved.

It is by keeping these considerations in view, that we can explain his
connection with such a man as Brederode.  The enterprises of that noble,
of Tholouse, and others, and the resistance of Valenciennes, could hardly
have been prevented even by the opposition of the Prince.  But why should
he take the field against men who, however rashly or ineffectually, were
endeavoring to oppose tyranny, when he knew himself already proscribed
and doomed by the tyrant?  Such loyalty he left to Egmont.  Till late in
the autumn, he had still believed in the possibility of convoking the
states-general, and of making preparations in Germany to enforce their
decrees.

The confederates and sectaries had boasted that they could easily raise
an army of sixty thousand men within the provinces,--that twelve hundred
thousand florins monthly would be furnished by the rich merchants of
Antwerp, and that it was ridiculous to suppose that the German
mercenaries enrolled by the Duchess in Saxony, Hesse, and other
Protestant countries, would ever render serious assistance against the
adherents of the reformed religion.  Without placing much confidence in
such exaggerated statements, the Prince might well be justified in
believing himself strong enough, if backed by the confederacy, by Egmont,
and by his own boundless influence, both at Antwerp and in his own
government, to sustain the constituted authorities of the nation even
against a Spanish army, and to interpose with legitimate and irresistible
strength between the insane tyrant and the country which he was preparing
to crush.  It was the opinion of the best informed Catholics that, if
Egmont should declare for the confederacy, he could take the field with
sixty thousand men, and make himself master of the whole country at a
blow.  In conjunction with Orange, the moral and physical force would
have been invincible.

It was therefore not Orange alone, but the Catholics and Protestants
alike, the whole population of the country, and the Duchess Regent
herself, who desired the convocation of the estates.  Notwithstanding
Philip's deliberate but secret determination never to assemble that body,
although the hope was ever to be held out that they should be convened,
Margaret had been most importunate that her brother should permit the
measure.  "There was less danger," she felt herself compelled to say,
"in assembling than in not assembling the States; it was better to
preserve the Catholic religion for a part of the country, than to lose it
altogether."  "The more it was delayed," she said, "the more ruinous and
desperate became the public affairs.  If the measure were postponed much
longer, all Flanders, half Brabant, the whole of Holland, Zeland,
Gueldrea, Tournay, Lille, Mechlin, would be lost forever, without a
chance of ever restoring the ancient religion."  The country, in short,
was "without faith, King, or law," and nothing worse could be apprehended
from any deliberation of the states-general.  These being the opinions of
the Duchess, and according to her statement those of nearly all the good
Catholics in the country, it could hardly seem astonishing or treasonable
that the Prince should also be in favor of the measure.

As the Duchess grew stronger, however, and as the people, aghast at the
fate of Tournay and Valenciennes, began to lose courage, she saw less
reason for assembling the states.  Orange, on the other hand, completely
deserted by Egmont and Horn, and having little confidence in the
characters of the ex-confederates, remained comparatively quiescent but
watchful.

At the close of the year, an important pamphlet from his hand was
circulated, in which his views as to the necessity of allowing some
degree of religious freedom were urged upon the royal government with his
usual sagacity of thought, moderation of language, and modesty in tone.
The man who had held the most important civil and military offices in the
country almost from boyhood, and who was looked up to by friend and foe
as the most important personage in the three millions of its inhabitants,
apologized for his "presumption" in coming forward publicly with his
advice.  "I would not," he said, "in matters of such importance, affect
to be wiser or to make greater pretensions than my age or experience
warrants, yet seeing affairs in such perplexity, I will rather incur the
risk of being charged with forwardness than neglect that which I consider
my duty."

This, then, was the attitude of the principal personages in the
Netherlands, and the situation of affairs at the end of the eventful year
1566, the last year of peace which the men then living or their children
were to know.  The government, weak at the commencement, was strong at
the close.  The confederacy was broken and scattered.  The Request, the
beggar banquets, the public preaching, the image-breaking, the Accord of
August, had been followed by reaction.  Tournay had accepted its
garrison.  Egmont, completely obedient to the crown, was compelling all
the cities of Flanders and Artois to receive soldiers sufficient to
maintain implicit obedience, and to extinguish all heretical
demonstrations, so that the Regent was at comparative leisure to effect
the reduction of Valenciennes.

This ancient city, in the province of Hainault, and on the frontier of
France, had been founded by the Emperor Valentinian, from whom it had
derived its name.  Originally established by him as a city of refuge, it
had received the privilege of affording an asylum to debtors, to outlaws,
and even to murderers.  This ancient right had been continued, under
certain modifications, even till the period with which we are now
occupied.  Never, however, according to the government, had the right of
asylum, even in the wildest times, been so abused by the city before.
What were debtors, robbers, murderers, compared to heretics?  yet these
worst enemies of their race swarmed in the rebellious city, practising
even now the foulest rites of Calvin, and obeying those most pestilential
of all preachers, Guido de Bray, and Peregrine de la Grange.  The place
was the hot-bed of heresy and sedition, and it seemed to be agreed, as by
common accord, that the last struggle for what was called the new
religion, should take place beneath its walls.

Pleasantly situated in a fertile valley, provided with very strong
fortifications and very deep moats, Valenciennes, with the Scheld flowing
through its centre, and furnishing the means of laying the circumjacent
meadows under water, was considered in those days almost impregnable.
The city was summoned, almost at the same time as Tournay, to accept a
garrison.  This demand of government was met by a peremptory refusal.
Noircarmes, towards the middle of December, ordered the magistrates to
send a deputation to confer with him at Conde.  Pensionary Outreman
accordingly repaired to that neighboring city, accompanied by some of his
colleagues.  This committee was not unfavorable to the demands of
government.  The magistracies of the cities, generally, were far from
rebellious; but in the case of Valenciennes the real power at that moment
was with the Calvinist consistory, and the ministers.  The deputies,
after their return from Conde, summoned the leading members of the
reformed religion, together with the preachers.  It was urged that it was
their duty forthwith to use their influence in favor of the demand made
by the government upon the city.

"May I grow mute as a fish!"  answered de la Grange, stoutly, "may the
tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, before I persuade my people to
accept a garrison of cruel mercenaries, by whom their rights of
conscience are to be trampled upon!"

Councillor Outreman reasoned with the fiery minister, that if he and his
colleague were afraid of their own lives, ample provision should be made
with government for their departure under safe conduct.  La Grange
replied that he had no fears for himself, that the Lord would protect
those who preached and those who believed in his holy word, but that He
would not forgive them should they now bend their necks to His enemies.

It was soon very obvious that no arrangement could be made.  The
magistrates could exert no authority, the preachers were all-powerful;
and the citizens, said a Catholic inhabitant of Valenciennes, "allowed
themselves to be led by their ministers like oxen."  Upon the 17th
December, 1566, a proclamation was accordingly issued by the Duchess
Regent, declaring the city in a state of siege, and all its inhabitants
rebels.  The crimes for which this penalty was denounced, were
elaborately set forth in the edict.  Preaching according to the reformed
religion had been permitted in two or three churches, the sacrament
according to the Calvinistic manner had been publicly administered,
together with a renunciation by the communicants of their adhesion to
the Catholic Church, and now a rebellious refusal to receive the garrison
sent to them by the Duchess had been added to the list of their
iniquities.  For offences like these the Regent deemed it her duty to
forbid all inhabitants of any city, village, or province of the
Netherlands holding communication with Valenciennes, buying or selling
with its inhabitants, or furnishing them with provisions; on pain of
being considered accomplices in their rebellion, and as such of being
executed with the halter.

The city was now invested by Noircarmes with all the troops which could
be spared.  The confederates gave promises of assistance to the
beleaguered citizens, Orange privately encouraged them to holdout in
their legitimate refusal.  Brederode and others busied themselves with
hostile demonstrations which were destined to remain barren; but in the
mean time the inhabitants had nothing to rely upon save their own stout
hearts and arms.

At first, the siege was sustained with a light heart.  Frequent sallies
were made, smart skirmishes were ventured, in which the Huguenots, on the
testimony of a most bitter Catholic contemporary, conducted themselves
with the bravery of veteran troops, and as if they had done nothing all
their lives but fight; forays were made upon the monasteries of the
neighborhood for the purpose of procuring supplies, and the broken
statues of the dismantled churches were used to build a bridge across
an arm of the river, which was called in derision the Bridge of Idols.
Noircarmes and the six officers under him, who were thought to be
conducting their operations with languor, were christened the Seven
Sleepers.  Gigantic spectacles, three feet in circumference, were planted
derisively upon the ramparts, in order that the artillery, which it was
said that the papists of Arras were sending, might be seen, as soon as it
should arrive.  Councillor Outreman, who had left the city before the
siege, came into it again, on commission from Noircarmes.  He was
received with contempt, his proposals on behalf of the government were
answered with outcries of fury; he was pelted with stones, and was very
glad to make his escape alive.  The pulpits thundered with the valiant
deeds of Joshua, Judas Maccabeus, and other bible heroes.  The miracles
wrought in their behalf served to encourage the enthusiasm of the people,
while the movements making at various points in the neighborhood
encouraged a hope of a general rising throughout the country.

Those hopes were destined to disappointment.  There were large
assemblages made, to be sure, at two points.  Nearly three thousand
sectaries had been collected at Lannoy under Pierre Comaille, who, having
been a locksmith and afterwards a Calvinist preacher, was now disposed to
try his fortune as a general.  His band was, however, disorderly.
Rustics armed with pitchforks, young students and old soldiers out of
employment, furnished with rusty matchlocks, pikes and halberds, composed
his force.  A company similar in character, and already amounting to some
twelve hundred in number, was collecting at Waterlots.  It was hoped that
an imposing array would soon be assembled, and that the two bands.
making a junction, would then march to the relief of Valenciennes.  It
was boasted that in a very short time, thirty thousand men would be in
the field.  There was even a fear of some such result felt by the
Catholics.




ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

1566, the last year of peace
Dissenters were as bigoted as the orthodox
If he had little, he could live upon little
Incur the risk of being charged with forwardness than neglect
Not to let the grass grow under their feet