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MOTLEY'S HISTORY OF THE NETHERLANDS, Project Gutenberg Edition, Vol. 29

THE RISE OF THE DUTCH REPUBLIC, 1577-1578

By John Lothrop Motley

1855




CHAPTER IV.

     Orange invited to visit Brussels--His correspondence upon the
     subject with the estates--general--Triumphant journey of the Prince
     to the capital----Stop put by him to the negotiations with Don John
     --New and stringent demands made upon the Governor--His indignation
     --Open rupture--Intrigue of Netherland grandees with Archduke
     Matthias--Policy of Orange--Attitude of Queen Elizabeth--Flight of
     Matthias from Vienna--Anxiety of Elizabeth--Adroitness of the
     Prince--The office of Reward--Election of Orange to that dignity--
     His complaints against the great nobles--Aerschot Governor of
     Flanders--A storm brewing in Ghent--Ryhove and Imbize--Blood-
     Councillor Hessels--Arrogance of the aristocratic party in Flanders
     --Ryhove's secret interview with Orange--Outbreak at Ghent--Arrest
     of Aerschot, Hessels, and others of the reactionary party--The Duke
     liberated at demand of Orange--The Prince's visit to Ghent--
     Rhetorical demonstrations--The new Brussels Union characterized--
     Treaty with England--Articles by which Matthias is nominally
     constituted Governor-General--His inauguration at Brussels--
     Brilliant and fantastic ceremonies--Letter of Don John to the
     Emperor--His anger with England--An army collecting--Arrival of
     Alexander Farnese--Injudicious distribution of offices in the
     States' army--The States' army fall back upon Gemblours, followed by
     Don John--Tremendous overthrow of the patriots--Wonderful disparity
     in the respective losses of the two armies.

While these matters were in progress, an important movement was made by
the estates-general.  The Prince of Orange was formally and urgently
invited to come to Brussels to aid them with his counsel and presence.
The condemned traitor had not set foot in the capital for eleven years.
We have narrated the circumstance of his departure, while the advancing
trumpets of Alva's army were almost heard in the distance.  His memorable
and warning interview with Egmont has been described.  Since that period,
although his spirit had always been manifesting itself in the capital
like an actual presence; although he had been the magnet towards which
the states throughout all their, oscillations had involuntarily vibrated,
yet he had been ever invisible.  He had been summoned by the Blood
Council to stand his trial, and had been condemned to death by default.
He answered the summons by a defiance, and the condemnation by two
campaigns, unsuccessful in appearance, but which had in reality
prostrated the authority of the sovereign.

Since that period, the representative of royalty had sued the condemned
traitor for forgiveness.  The haughty brother of Philip had almost gone
upon his knees, that the Prince might name his terms, and accept the
proffered hand of majesty.

The Prince had refused, not from contumely, but from distrust.  He had
spurned the supplications, as he had defied the proscription of the King.
There could be no friendship between the destroyer and the protector of a
people.  Had the Prince desired only the reversal of his death-sentence,
and the infinite aggrandizement of his family, we have seen how
completely he had held these issues in his power.  Never had it been more
easy, plausible, tempting, for a proscribed patriot to turn his back upon
an almost sinking cause.  We have seen how his brave and subtle Batavian
prototype, Civilis, dealt with the representative of Roman despotism.
The possible or impossible Netherland Republic of the first century of
our era had been reluctantly abandoned, but the modern Civilis had justly
more confidence in his people.

And now again the scene was changed.  The son of the Emperor, the King's
brother, was virtually beleaguered; the proscribed rebel had arrived at
victory through a long series of defeats.  The nation everywhere
acknowledged him master, and was in undisguised revolt against the
anointed sovereign.  The great nobles, who hated Philip on the one hand,
and the Reformed religion on the other, were obliged, in obedience to the
dictates of a people with whom they had little sympathy, to accept the
ascendency of the Calvinist Prince, of whom they were profoundly jealous.
Even the fleeting and incapable Aerschot was obliged to simulate
adhesion; even the brave Champagny, cordial hater of Spaniards, but most
devotedly Catholic, "the chiefest man of wysedome and stomach at that
tyme in Brussels," so envoy Wilson wrote to Burghley, had become
"Brabantized," as his brother Granvelle expressed himself, and was one of
the commissioners to invite the great rebel to Brussels.  The other
envoys were the Abbot of Saint Gertrude, Dr. Leoninus, and the Seigneur
de Liesvelt.  These gentlemen, on arriving at Gertruydenberg, presented a
brief but very important memorial to the Prince.  In that document they
informed him that the states-general, knowing how efficacious would be
his presence, by reason of his singular prudence, experience, and love
for the welfare and repose of the country, had unanimously united in a
supplication that he would incontinently transport himself to the city of
Brussels, there to advise with them concerning the necessities of the
land; but, as the principal calumny employed by their adversaries was
that all the provinces and leading personages intended to change both
sovereign and religion, at the instigation of his Excellency, it was
desirable to disprove such fictions.  They therefore very earnestly
requested the Prince to make some contrary demonstration, by which it
might be manifest to all that his Excellency, together with the estates
of Holland and Zealand, intended faithfully to keep what they had
promised.  They prayed, therefore, that the Prince, permitting the
exercise of the Roman Catholic religion in the places which had recently
accepted his authority, would also allow its exercise in Holland and
Zealand.  They begged, further, that ho would promise by a new and
authentic act, that the provinces of Holland and Zealand, would not
suffer the said exercise to be impugned, or any new worship to be
introduced, in the other provinces of the Netherlands.

This letter might almost be regarded as a trap, set by the Catholic
nobles.  Certainly the Ghent Pacification forbade the Reformed religion
in form, and as certainly, winked at its exercise in fact.  The proof
was, that the new worship was spreading everywhere, that the exiles for
conscience' sake were returning in swarms, and that the synod of the
Reformed churches, lately held at Dort, had been, publicly attended by
the ministers and deacons of numerous dissenting churches established in
many different, places throughout all the provinces.  The pressure of the
edicts, the horror of the inquisition being removed, the down-trodden
religion had sprung from the earth more freshly than ever.

The Prince was not likely to fall into the trap, if a trap had really
been intended.  He answered the envoys loyally, but with distinct
reservations.  He did not even accept the invitation, save on condition
that his visit to Brussels should be expressly authorized by Holland and
Zealand.  Notwithstanding his desire once more to behold his dear
country, and to enjoy the good company of his best friends and brothers,
he felt it his duty to communicate beforehand with the states of those
two provinces, between which, and himself there had been such close and
reciprocal obligations, such long-tried and faithful affection.  He
therefore begged to refer the question to the assembly of the said
provinces about to be held at Gouda, where, in point of fact, the
permission for his journey was, not without considerable difficulty, a
few days afterwards obtained.

With regard to the more difficult requests addressed to him in the
memorial, he professed generally his intention to execute the treaty of
Ghent.  He observed, however, that the point of permitting the exercise
of the Roman Catholic religion in Holland and Zealand regarded
principally the estates of these provinces, which had contracted for
no innovation in this matter, at least till the assembling of the states
-general.  He therefore suggested that he neither could, nor ought to,
permit any innovation, without the knowledge and consent of those
estates.  As to promising by authentic act, that neither he nor the two
provinces would suffer the exercise of the Catholic religion to be in
any wise impugned in the rest of the Netherlands, the Prince expressed
himself content to promise that, according to the said Ghent
Pacification, they would suffer no attempt to be made against the public
repose or against the Catholic worship.  He added that, as he had no
intention of usurping any superiority over the states-general assembled
at Brussels, he was content to leave the settlement of this point to
their free-will and wisdom, engaging himself neither to offer nor permit
any hindrance to their operations.

With this answer the deputies are said to have been well pleased.
If they were so, it must be confessed that they were thankful for small
favors.  They had asked to have the Catholic religion introduced into
Holland and Zealand.  The Prince had simply referred them to the estates
of these provinces.  They had asked him to guarantee that the exercise of
the Reformed religion should not be "procured" in the rest of the
country.  He had merely promised that the Catholic worship should not be
prevented.  The difference between the terms of the request and the reply
was sufficiently wide.

The consent to his journey was with difficulty accorded by the estates
of Holland and Zealand, and his wife, with many tears and anxious
forebodings, beheld him depart for a capital where the heads of his
brave and powerful friends had fallen, and where still lurked so many of
his deadly foes.  During his absence, prayers were offered daily for his
safety in all the churches of Holland and Zealand, by command of the
estates.

He arrived at Antwerp on the 17th of September, and was received with
extraordinary enthusiasm.  The Prince, who had gone forth alone, without
even a bodyguard, had the whole population of the great city for his
buckler.  Here he spent five days, observing, with many a sigh, the
melancholy changes which had taken place in the long interval of his
absence.  The recent traces of the horrible "Fury," the blackened walls
of the Hotel de Ville, the prostrate ruins of the marble streets, which
he had known as the most imposing in Europe, could be hardly atoned for
in his eyes even by the more grateful spectacle of the dismantled
fortress.

On the 23rd of September he was attended by a vast concourse of citizens
to the new canal which led to Brussels, where three barges were in
waiting for himself and suite.  In one a banquet was spread; in the
second, adorned with emblematic devices and draped with the banners
of the seventeen provinces, he was to perform the brief journey; while
the third had been filled by the inevitable rhetoric societies, with all
the wonders of their dramatic and plastic ingenuity.  Rarely had such
a complication of vices and virtues, of crushed dragons, victorious
archangels, broken fetters, and resurgent nationalities, been seen
before, within the limits of a single canal boat.  The affection was,
however, sincere, and the spirit noble, even though the taste which
presided at these remonstrations may have been somewhat pedantic.

The Prince was met several miles before the gates of Brussels by a
procession of nearly half the inhabitants of the city, and thus escorted,
he entered the capital in the afternoon of the 23rd of September.  It was
the proudest day of his life.  The representatives of all the provinces,
supported by the most undeniable fervor of the united Netherland people,
greeted "Father William."  Perplexed, discordant, hating, fearing,
doubting, they could believe nothing, respect nothing, love nothing, save
the "tranquil" Prince. His presence at that moment in Brussels was the
triumph of the people and of religious toleration.  He meant to make use
of the crisis to extend and to secure popular rights, and to establish
the supremacy of the states-general under the nominal sovereignty of some
Prince, who was yet to be selected, while the executive body was to be a
state-council, appointed by the states-general.  So far as appears, he
had not decided as to the future protector, but he had resolved that it
should be neither himself nor Philip of Spain.  The outlaw came to
Brussels prepared at last to trample out a sovereignty which had worked
its own forfeiture.  So far as he had made any election within his
breast, his choice inclined to the miserable Duke of Anjou; a prince whom
he never came to know as posterity has known him, but whom he at least
learned to despise.  Thus far the worthless and paltry intriguer still
wore the heroic mask, deceiving even such far seeing politicians as Saint
Aldegonde and the Prince.

William's first act was to put a stop to the negotiations already on foot
with Don John.  He intended that they should lead to war, because peace
was impossible, except a peace for which civil and religious liberty
would be bartered, for it was idle, in his opinion, to expect the
maintenance by the Spanish Governor of the Ghent Pacification, whatever
promises might be extorted from his fears.  A deputation, in the name of
the states, had already been sent with fresh propositions to Don John, at
Namur.  The envoys were Caspar Schetz and the Bishop of Bruges.  They had
nearly come to an amicable convention with the Governor, the terms of
which had been sent to the states-general for approval, at the very
moment of the Prince's arrival in Brussels.  Orange, with great
promptness, prevented the ratification of these terms, which the estates
had in reality already voted to accept.  New articles were added to those
which had originally been laid before Don John.  It was now stipulated
that the Ghent treaty and the Perpetual Edict should be maintained.  The
Governor was required forthwith to abandon Namur Castle, and to dismiss
the German troops.  He was to give up the other citadels and strong
places, and to disband all the soldiers in his service.  He was to
command the governors of every province to prohibit the entrance of
all foreign levies.  He was forthwith to release captives, restore
confiscated property, and reinstate officers who had been removed;
leaving the details of such restorations to the council of Mechlin and
the other provincial tribunals.  He was to engage that the Count Van
Buren should be set free within two months.  He was himself, while
waiting for the appointment of his successor, to take up his residence
in Luxemburg, and while there, he was to be governed entirely by the
decision of the State Council, expressed by a majority of its members.
Furthermore, and as not the least stinging of these sharp requisitions,
the Queen of England--she who had been the secret ally of Orange, and
whose crown the Governor had secretly meant to appropriate--was to be
included in the treaty.

It could hardly excite surprise that Don John, receiving these insolent
propositions at the very moment in which he heard of the triumphant
entrance into Brussels of the Prince, should be filled with rage and
mortification.  Never was champion of the Cross thus braved by infidels
before.  The Ghent treaty, according to the Orange interpretation, that
is to say, heresy made legitimate, was to be the law of the land.  His
Majesty was to surrender--colors and cannon--to his revolted subjects.
The royal authority was to be superseded by that of a State Council,
appointed by the states-general, at the dictation of the Prince.  The
Governor-General himself, brother of his Catholic Majesty, was to sit
quietly with folded arms in Luxemburg, while the arch-heretic and rebel
reigned supreme in Brussels.  It was too much to expect that the choleric
soldier would be content with what he could not help regarding as a
dishonorable capitulation.  The arrangement seemed to him about as
reasonable as it would have been to invite Sultan Selim to the Escorial,
and to send Philip to reside at Bayonne.  He could not but regard the
whole proposition as an insolent declaration of war.  He was right.  It
was a declaration of war; as much so as if proclaimed by trump of herald.
How could Don John refuse the wager of battle thus haughtily proffered?

Smooth Schetz, Lord of Grobbendonck, and his episcopal colleague, in vain
attempted to calm the Governor's wrath, which now flamed forth, in
defiance of all considerations.

They endeavored, without success, to palliate the presence of Orange, and
the circumstances of his reception, for it was not probable that their
eloquence would bring the Governor to look at the subject with their
eyes.  Three days were agreed upon for the suspension of hostilities, and
Don John was highly indignant that the estates would grant no longer a
truce.  The refusal was, however, reasonable enough on their part, for
they were aware that veteran Spaniards and Italians were constantly
returning to him, and that he was daily strengthening his position.  The
envoys returned to Brussels, to give an account of the Governor's rage,
which they could not declare to be unnatural, and to assist in
preparations for the war, which was now deemed inevitable.  Don John,
leaving a strong garrison in the citadel of Namur, from which place he,
despatched a final communication to the estates-general, dated the 2nd of
October, retired to Luxemburg.  In this letter, without exactly uttering
defiance, he unequivocally accepted the hostilities which had been
pressed upon him, and answered their hollow professions of attachment to
the Catholic religion and his Majesty's authority, by denouncing their
obvious intentions to trample upon both.  He gave them, in short, to
understand that he perceived their intentions, and meant them to
comprehend his own.

Thus the quarrel was brought to an issue, and Don John saw with grim
complacency, that the pen was at last to be superseded by the sword.
A remarkable pamphlet was now published, in seven different languages,
Latin, French, Flemish, German, Italian, Spanish; and English, containing
a succinct account of the proceedings between the Governor and the
estates, together with copies of the intercepted letters of Don John and
Escovedo to the King, to Perez, to the German colonels, and to the
Empress.  This work, composed and published by order of the estates-
general, was transmitted with an accompanying address to every potentate
in Christendom.  It was soon afterwards followed by a counter-statement,
prepared by order of Don John, and containing his account of the same
matters, with his recriminations against the conduct of the estates.

Another important movement had, meanwhile, been made by the third party
in this complicated game.  The Catholic nobles, jealous of the growing
influence of Orange, and indignant at the expanding power of the people,
had opened secret negotiations with the Archduke Matthias, then a mild,
easy-tempered youth of twenty, brother of the reigning emperor, Rudolph.
After the matter had been discussed some time in secret, it was resolved,
towards the end of September, to send a messenger to Vienna, privately
inviting the young Prince to Brussels, but much to the surprise of these
nobles, it was discovered that some fifteen or sixteen of the grandees of
the land, among them Aerschot, Havre, Champagny, De Ville, Lalain, De
Heze, and others, had already taken .the initiative in the matter.  On
the 26th of August, the Seigneur de Maalsteede had set forth, by their
appointment, for Vienna.  There is no doubt that this step originated in
jealousy felt towards Orange, but at the same time it is certain that
several of the leaders in the enterprise were still his friends.  Some,
like Champagny, and De Heze, were honestly so; others, like Aerschot,
Havrd, and De Ville, always traitors in heart to the national cause,
loyal to nothing but their own advancement, were still apparently upon
the best terms with him.  Moreover, it is certain that he had been made
aware of the scheme, at least, before the arrival of the Archduke in the
Netherlands, for the Marquis Havre, on his way to England, as special
envoy from the estates, had a conference with him at Gertruydenberg.
This was in the middle of September, and before his departure for
Brussels.  Naturally, the proposition seemed, at first, anything but
agreeable; but the Marquis represented himself afterwards as having at
last induced the Prince to look upon it with more favorable eyes.
Nevertheless, the step had been taken before the consultation was held;
nor was it the first time that the advice, of Orange had been asked
concerning the adoption of a measure after the measure had been adopted.

Whatever may have been his original sentiments upon the subject; however,
he was always less apt to complain of irrevocable events than quick to
reconcile them with his own combinations, and it was soon to be
discovered that the new stumbling-block which his opponents had placed in
his path, could be converted into an additional stepping-stone towards
his goal.  Meanwhile, the secret invitation to the Archduke was regarded
by the people and by foreign spectators as a plot devised by his enemies.
Davison, envoy from Queen Elizabeth, was then in Brussels, and informed
his royal mistress, whose sentiments and sympathies were unequivocally in
favor of Orange, of the intrigues against the Prince.  The efforts of
England were naturally to counteract the schemes of all who interfered
with his policy, the Queen especially, with her customary sagacity,
foreseeing the probable inclination of the Catholic nobles towards the
protectorate of Alencon.  She did not feel certain as to the precise
plans of Orange, and there was no course better adapted to draw her from
barren coquetry into positive engagements; than to arouse her jealousy of
the French influence in the provinces.  At this moment, she manifested
the warmest friendship for the Prince.

Costly presents were transmitted by her to his wife; among others,
an ornament, of which a sculptured lizard formed a part.  The Princess,
in a graceful letter to her husband, desiring that her acknowledgments
should be presented to her English Majesty, accepted the present as
significative.  "Tis the fabled virtue of the lizard (she said) to awaken
sleepers whom a serpent is about to sting.  You are the lizard, and the
Netherlands the sleepers,--pray Heaven they may escape the serpent's
bite."  The Prince was well aware, therefore, of the plots which were
weaving against him.  He had small faith in the great nobles, whom he
trusted "as he would adders fanged," and relied only upon the
communities, upon the mass of burghers.  They deserved his confidence,
and watched over his safety with jealous care.  On one occasion, when he
was engaged at the State Council till a late hour, the citizens conceived
so much alarm, that a large number of them spontaneously armed
themselves, and repaired to the palace.  The Prince, informed of the
circumstance, threw open a window and addressed them, thanking them for
their friendship and assuring them of his safety.  They were not
satisfied, however, to leave him alone, but remained under arms below
till the session was terminated, when they escorted him with affectionate
respect to his own hotel.

The secret envoy arrived in Vienna, and excited the ambition of the
youthful Matthias.  It must be confessed that the offer could hardly be a
very tempting one, and it excites our surprise that the Archduke should
have thought the adventure worth the seeking.  A most anomalous position
in the Netherlands was offered to him by a slender and irresponsible
faction of Netherlanders.  There was a triple prospect before him: that
of a hopeless intrigue against the first politician in Europe, a mortal
combat with the most renowned conqueror of the age, a deadly feud with
the most powerful and revengeful monarch in the world.  Into this
threefold enterprise he was about to plunge without any adequate
resources, for the Archduke possessed no experience, power, or wealth.
He brought, therefore, no strength to a cause which was itself feeble.
He could hope for no protection, nor inspire any confidence.
Nevertheless, he had courage, pliability, and a turn for political
adventure.  Visions of the discomfited Philip conferring the hand of his
daughter, with the Netherlands as her dowry, upon the enterprising youth
who, at this juncture, should succeed in overturning the Spanish
authority in that country, were conjured up by those who originated the
plot, and he was weak enough to consider such absurdities plausible, and
to set forth at once to take possession of this castle in the air.

On the evening of October 3rd, 1577, he retired to rest at eight o'clock
feigning extreme drowsiness.  After waiting till his brother, Maximilian,
who slept in another bed in the same chamber, was asleep, he slipped from
his couch and from the room in his night apparel, without even putting on
his slippers.  He was soon after provided by the companions of his flight
with the disguise of a servant, arrayed in which, with his face
blackened, he made his escape by midnight from Vienna, but it is doubtful
whether Rudolph were as ignorant as he affected to be of the scheme.

     [It was the opinion of Languet that the Emperor affected ignorance
     of the plot at its commencement, that he afterwards affected an
     original connivance, and that he was equally disingenuous in both
     pretences.]

The Archduke arrived at Cologne, attended only by two gentlemen and a few
servants.  The Governor was beside himself with fury; the Queen of
England was indignant; the Prince only, against whom the measure was
mainly directed, preserved his usual tranquillity.

Secretary Walsingham, as soon as the news reached England, sent for
Meetkercke, colleague of Marquis Havre in the mission from the estates.
He informed that functionary of the great perplexity and excitement
which, according to information received from the English resident,
Davison, were then prevailing in Brussels, on account of the approach of
the Archduke.  Some, he said, were for receiving him at one place, some
at another; others were in favor of forbidding his entrance altogether.
Things had been sufficiently complicated before, without this additional
cause of confusion.  Don John was strengthening himself daily, through
the secret agency of the Duke of Guise and his party.  His warlike genius
was well known, as well as the experience of the soldiers who were fast
rallying under his banner.  On the other hand, the Duke of Alencon had
come to La Fere, and was also raising troops, while to oppose this crowd
of rival enemies, to deal with this host of impending disasters, there
was but one man in the Netherlands.  On the Prince of Orange alone could
the distracted states rely.  To his prudence and valor only could the
Queen look with hopeful eyes.  The Secretary proceeded to inform the
envoy, therefore, that her Majesty would feel herself compelled to
withdraw all succor from the states if the Prince of Orange were deprived
of his leadership; for it was upon that leadership only that she had
relied for obtaining a successful result.  She was quite indisposed to
encounter indefinite risk with an impossibility of profit.

Meetkercke replied to the Secretary by observing, that the great nobles
of the land had been unanimous in desiring a new Governor-General at this
juncture.  They had thought Matthias, with a strong Council of State,
composed of native Netherlanders, to control him, likely to prove a
serviceable candidate for the post.  They had reason to believe that,
after he should be received, the Emperor would be reconciled to the
measure, and that by his intercession the King of Spain would be likewise
induced to acquiesce.  He alluded, moreover, to the conference between
the Marquis of Havre and Orange at Gertruydenberg, and quoted the opinion
of the Prince that it would be unwise, after the invitation had been
given, to insult the Archduke and his whole imperial house, by beating
him with indignity upon his arrival.  It was inevitable, said the envoy,
that differences of opinion should exist in large assemblies, but
according to information which he had recently received from Marquis
Havre, then in Brussels, affairs had already become smooth again.  At the
conclusion of the conference, Walsingham repeated emphatically that the
only condition upon which the Queen would continue her succor to the
Netherlands was, that the Prince should be forthwith appointed
Lieutenant-General for the Archduke.

The immediate result of this movement was, that Matthias was received at
Antwerp by Orange at the head of two thousand cavalry, and attended by a
vast concourse of inhabitants.  Had the Prince chosen a contrary course,
the Archduke might have been compelled to return, somewhat ridiculously,
to Vienna; but, at the same time, the anger of the Emperor and of all
Germany would have been aroused against Orange and the cause he served.
Had the Prince, on the contrary, abandoned the field himself, and
returned to Holland, he would have left the game in the hands of his
adversaries.  Ever since he had made what his brother John called that
"dangerous gallows journey" to Brussels, his influence had been
culminating daily, and the jealousy of the great nobles rising as
rapidly.  Had he now allowed himself to be driven from his post, he would
have exactly fulfilled their object.  By remaining, he counteracted their
schemes.

By taking Matthias wholly into his own possession, he obtained one piece
the more in the great game which he was playing against his antagonist in
the Escorial.  By making adroit use of events as they arose, he made the
very waves which were to sink him, carry his great cause triumphantly
onward.

The first result of the invitation to Matthias was the election of Orange
as Ruward of Brabant.  This office was one of great historical dignity,
but somewhat anomalous in its functions.  The province of Brabant, having
no special governor, was usually considered under the immediate
superintendence of the Governor-General.  As the capital of Brabant was
the residence of that functionary, no inconvenience from this course had
been felt since the accession of the house of Burgundy.  At present,
however, the condition of affairs was so peculiar--the seat of government
being empty without having been permanently vacated--that a special
opportunity vas offered for conferring both honor and power on the
Prince.  A Ruward was not exactly dictator, although his authority was
universal.  He was not exactly protector, nor governor, nor stadholder.
His functions were unlimited as to time--therefore superior to those of
an ancient dictator; they were commonly conferred on the natural heir to
the sovereignty--therefore more lofty than those of ordinary stadholders.
The individuals who had previously held the office in the Netherlands had
usually reigned afterwards in their own right.  Duke Albert, of the
Bavarian line; for example, had been Ruward of Hainault and Holland, for
thirty years, during the insanity of his brother, and on the death of
Duke William had succeeded to his title.  Philip of Burgundy had declared
himself Ruward of Brabant in 1425, and had shortly afterwards deprived
Jacqueline of all her titles and appropriated them to himself.  In the
one case the regent, in the second case the usurper, had become reigning
prince.  Thus the movement of the jealous nobles against the Prince had
for its first effect his immediate appointment to an office whose chief
characteristic was, that it conducted to sovereignty.

The election was accomplished thus.  The "members," or estates of
Brussels, together with the deans, guilds, and other of the principal
citizens of Antwerp, addressed a request to the states of Brabant, that
William of Orange should be appointed Ruward, and after long deliberation
the measure was carried.  The unsolicited honor was then solemnly offered
to him.  He refused, and was only, after repeated and urgent entreaties,
induced to accept the office.  The matter was then referred to the
states-general, who confirmed the dignity, after some demur, and with the
condition that it might be superseded by the appointment of a governor-
general.  He was finally confirmed as Ruward on the 22d of October, to
the boundless satisfaction of the people, who celebrated the event by
a solemn holiday in Antwerp, Brussels, and other cities.  His friends,
inspired by the intrigues of his enemies, had thus elevated the Prince
to almost unlimited power; while a strong expression in favor of his
government had been elicited from the most important ally of the
Netherlands-England.  It soon rested with himself only to assume the
government of Flanders, having been elected stadholder, not once only,
but many times, by the four estates of that important province, and
having as constantly refused the dignity.  With Holland and Zealand
devoted to him, Brabant and Flanders formally under his government, the
Netherland capital lavishing testimonials of affection upon him, and the
mass of the people almost worshipping him, it would not have been
difficult for the Prince to play a game as selfish as it had hitherto
been close and skilful.  He might have proved to the grand seigniors that
their suspicions were just, by assuming a crown which they had been
intriguing to push from his brows.  Certainly the nobles deserved their
defeat.  They had done their best to circumvent Orange, in all ways and
at all times.  They had paid their court to power when it was most
powerful, and had sought to swim on the popular tide when it was rising.
He avenged himself upon their perfidy only by serving his country more
faithfully than ever, but it was natural that he should be indignant at
the conduct of these gentlemen, "children of good houses," (in his own
words,) "issue of worthy, sires," whose fathers, at least, he had ever
loved and honored.

"They serve the Duke of Alva and the Grand Commander like varlets," he
cried; "they make war upon me to the knife.  Afterwards they treat with
me, they reconcile themselves with me, they are sworn foes of the
Spaniard.  Don John arrives, and they follow him; they intrigue for my
ruin.  Don John fails in his enterprise upon Antwerp citadel; they quit
him incontinently and call upon me.  No sooner do I come than, against
their oath and without previous communication with the states or myself,
they call upon the Archduke Matthias.  Are the waves of the sea more
inconstant--is Euripus more uncertain than the counsels of such men?"

While these events were occurring at Brussels and Antwerp, a scene of a
different nature was enacting at Ghent.  The Duke of Aerschot had
recently been appointed to the government of Flanders by the State
Council, but the choice was exceedingly distasteful to a large number of
the inhabitants.  Although, since the defeat of Don John's party in
Antwerp, Aerschot had again become "the affectionate brother" of Orange,
yet he was known to be the head of the cabal which had brought Matthias
from Vienna.  Flanders, moreover, swarmed with converts to the Reformed
religion,  and the Duke's strict Romanism was well known.  The people,
therefore, who hated the Pope and adored the Prince, were furious at the
appointment of the new governor, but by dint of profuse promises
regarding the instant restoration of privileges and charters which had
long lain dormant, the friends of Aerschot succeeded in preparing the way
for his installation.

On the 20th of October, attended by twenty-three companies of infantry
and three hundred horse, he came to Ghent.  That famous place was still
one of the most powerful and turbulent towns in Europe.  Although
diminished in importance since the commercial decline which had been the
inevitable result of Philip's bloody government, it, was still swarming
with a vigorous and dangerous population and it had not forgotten the
days when the iron tongue of Roland could call eighty thousand fighting
men to the city banner.  Even now, twenty thousand were secretly pledged
to rise at the bidding of certain chieftains resident among them; noble
by birth, warmly attached to the Reformed religion, and devoted to
Orange.  These gentlemen were perfectly conscious that a reaction was to
be attempted in favor of Don John and of Catholicism, through the agency
of the newly-appointed governor of Flanders.  Aerschot was trusted or
respected by neither party.  The only difference in the estimates formed
of him was, that some considered him a deep and dangerous traitor; others
that he was rather foolish than malicious, and more likely to ruin a good
cause than to advance the interests of a bad one.  The leaders of the
popular party at Ghent believed him dangerous.  They felt certain that it
was the deeply laid design of the Catholic nobles foiled as they had been
in the objects with which they had brought Matthias from Vienna, and
enraged as they were that the only result of that movement had been to
establish the power of Orange upon a firmer basis--to set up an opposing
influence in Ghent.  Flanders, in the possession of the Catholics, was to
weigh up Brabant, with its recent tendencies to toleration.  Aerschot was
to counteract the schemes of Orange.  Matthias was to be withdrawn from
the influence of the great heretic, and be yet compelled to play the part
set down for him by those who had placed him upon the stage.  A large
portion, no doubt, of the schemes here suggested, was in agitation, but
the actors were hardly equal to the drama which they were attempting.
The intrigue was, however, to be frustrated at once by the hand of
Orange, acting as it often did from beneath a cloud.

Of all the chieftains possessing influence with the inhabitants of Ghent,
two young nobles, named Ryhove and Imbize, were the most conspicuous.
Both were of ancient descent and broken fortunes, both were passionately
attached to the Prince, both were inspired with an intense hatred for
all that was Catholic or Spanish.  They had travelled further on the
reforming path than many had done in that day, and might even be called
democratic in their notions.  Their heads were filled with visions of
Greece and Rome; the praise of republics was ever on their lips; and they
avowed to their intimate associates that it was already feasible to
compose a commonwealth like that of the Swiss Cantons out of the
seventeen Netherlands.  They were regarded as dreamers by some, as
desperadoes by others.  Few had confidence in their capacity or their
purity; but Orange, who knew mankind, recognized in them useful
instruments for any hazardous enterprise.  They delighted in stratagems
and sudden feats of arms.  Audacious and cruel by temperament, they were
ever most happy in becoming a portion of the desolation which popular
tumults engender.

There were several excited meetings of the four estates of Flanders
immediately after the arrival of the Duke of Aerschot in Ghent.  His
coming had been preceded by extensive promises, but it soon became
obvious that their fulfilment was to be indefinitely deferred.  There
was a stormy session on the 27th of October, many of the clergy and
nobility being present, and comparatively few members of the third
estate.  Very violent speeches were made, and threats openly uttered,
that the privileges, about which so much noise had been heard, would be
rather curtailed than enlarged under the new administration.  At the same
session, the commission of Aerschot was formally presented by Champagny
and Sweveghem, deputed by the State Council for that purpose.  Champagny
was in a somewhat anomalous position.  There was much doubt in men's
minds concerning him.  He had seemed lately the friend of Orange, but he
was certainly the brother of Granvelle.  His splendid but fruitless
services during the Antwerp Fury had not been forgotten, but he was known
to be a determined Catholic.  He was a hater of Spaniards, but no lover
of popular liberty.  The nature of his sentiments towards Orange was
perhaps unjustly suspected.  At any rate, two or three days after the
events which now occupy our attention, he wrote him a private letter, in
which he assured him of his attachment.  In reference to the complaints,
of the Prince, that he had not been seconded as he ought to have been, he
said, moreover, that he could solemnly swear never to have seen a single
individual who did not hold the Prince in admiration, and who was not
affectionately devoted to him, not only, by public profession, but by
private sentiment.

There was little doubt entertained as to the opinions held by the rest of
the aristocratic party, then commencing their manoeuvres in Ghent.  Their
sentiments were uttered with sufficient distinctness in this remarkable
session.

Hessels, the old Blood Councillor, was then resident in Ghent; where he
discharged high governmental functions.  It was he, as it will be
remembered, who habitually fell asleep at that horrible council board,
and could only start from his naps to-shout "ad patibulum," while the
other murderers had found their work less narcotic.  A letter from
Hessels to Count de Reux, late royal governor of Flanders, was at the
present juncture intercepted.  Perhaps it was invented, but genuine or
fictitious, it was circulated extensively among the popular leaders,
and had the effect of proving Madame de Hessels a true prophet.  It
precipitated the revolution in Flanders, and soon afterwards cost the
Councillor his life.  "We have already brought many notable magistrates
of Flanders over to the aide of his Highness Don John," wrote Hessels.
"We hope, after the Duke of Aerschot is governor; that we shall fully
carry out the intentions of his Majesty and the plans of his Highness.
We shall also know how to circumvent the scandalous heretic with all his
adherents and followers."

Certainly, if this letter were true, it was high time for the friends of
the "scandalous heretic" to look about them.  If it were a forgery, which
is highly probable, it was ingeniously imagined, and did the work of
truth.  The revolutionary party, being in a small minority in the
assembly, were advised by their leaders to bow before the storm.  They
did so, and the bluster of the reactionary party grew louder as they
marked the apparent discomfiture of their foes.  They openly asserted
that the men who were clamoring for privileges should obtain nothing but
halters.  The buried charters should never be resuscitated; but the
spirit of the dead Emperor, who had once put a rope around the necks of
the insolent Ghenters, still lived in that of his son.  There was no lack
of denunciation.  Don John and the Duke of Aerschot would soon bring the
turbulent burghers to their senses, and there would then be an end to
this renewed clamor about musty parchments.  Much indignation was
secretly excited in the assembly by such menaces.  Without doors the
subterranean flames spread rapidly, but no tumult occurred that night.
Before the session was over, Ryhove left the city, pretending a visit to
Tournay.  No sooner had he left the gates, however, than he turned his
horse's head in the opposite direction, and rode off post haste to
Antwerp.  There he had a conference with William of Orange, and painted
in lively colors the alarming position of affairs.  "And what do you mean
to do in the matter?"  asked the Prince, rather drily.  Ryhove was
somewhat disconcerted.  He had expected a violent explosion; well as he
knew the tranquil personage whom he was addressing.  "I know no better
counsel," he replied, at length, "than to take the Duke, with his
bishops, councillors, lords, and the whole nest of them, by the throat,
and thrust them all out together."

"Rather a desperate undertaking, however?"  said the Prince; carelessly,
but interrogatively.

"I know no other remedy," answered Ryhove; "I would rather make the
attempt, relying upon God alone, and die like a man if needful, than live
in eternal slavery.  Like an ancient Roman," continued the young
republican noble, in somewhat bombastic vein, "I am ready to wager my
life, where my fatherland's welfare is at stake."

"Bold words!"  said the Prince, looking gravely at Ryhove; "but upon what
force do you rely for your undertaking?"

"If I can obtain no assistance from your Excellency," was the reply,
"I shall throw myself on the mass of the citizens.  I can arouse them in
the name of their ancient liberties, which must be redeemed now or
never."

The Prince, believing probably that the scheme, if scheme there were,
was but a wild one, felt little inclination to compromise himself with
the young conspirator.  He told him he could do nothing at present, and
saying that he must at least sleep upon the matter, dismissed him for the
night.  Next morning, at daybreak, Ryhove was again closeted with him.
The Prince asked his sanguine partisan if he were still determined to
carry out his project, with no more definite support than he had
indicated?  Ryhove assured him, in reply, that he meant to do so;
or to die in the attempt.  The Prince shrugged his shoulders, and soon
afterwards seemed to fall into a reverie.  Ryhove continued talking, but
it was soon obvious that his Highness was not listening; and he therefore
took his leave somewhat abruptly.  Hardly had he left the house, however,
when the Prince despatched Saint Aldegonde in search of him.  That
gentleman, proceeding to his hotel, walked straight into the apartment of
Ryhove, and commenced a conversation with a person whom he found there,
but to his surprise he soon discovered, experienced politician though he
was, that he had made an egregious blunder.  He had opened a dangerous
secret to an entire stranger, and Ryhove coming into the apartment a few
minutes afterwards, was naturally surprised to find the Prince's chief
councillor in close conversation about the plot with Van Rooyen, the
burgomaster of Denremonde.  The Flemish noble, however, always prompt in
emergencies, drew his rapier, and assured the astonished burgomaster that
he would either have his life on the instant, or his oath never to reveal
a syllable of what he had heard.  That functionary, who had neither
desired the young noble's confidence, nor contemplated the honor of being
run through the body as a consequence of receiving it, was somewhat
aghast at the rapid manner in which these gentlemen transacted business.
He willingly gave the required pledge, and was permitted to depart.

The effect of the conference between Saint Aldegonde and Ryhove was to
convince the young partisan that the Prince would neither openly
countenance his project, nor be extremely vexed should it prove
successful.  In short, while, as in the case of the arrest of the State
Council, the subordinates were left to appear the principals in the
transactions, the persons most intimate with William of Orange were
allowed to form satisfactory opinions as to his wishes, and to serve as
instruments to his ends.  "Vive qui vince!"  cried Saint-Aldegonde,
encouragingly, to Ryhove, shaking hands with him at parting.  The
conspirator immediately mounted, and rode off towards Ghent.  During his
absence there had been much turbulence, but no decided outbreak, in that
city.  Imbize had accosted the Duke of Aerschot in the street, and
demanded when and how he intended to proclaim the restoration of the
ancient charters.  The haughty Duke had endeavoured to shake off his
importunate questioner, while Imbize persisted, with increasing audacity,
till Aerschot lost his temper at last: "Charters, charters!"  he cried
in a rage; "you shall learn soon, ye that are thus howling for charters,
that we have still the old means of making you dumb, with a rope on your
throats.  I tell you this--were you ever so much hounded on by the Prince
of Orange."

The violence of the new governor excited the wrath of Imbize.  He broke
from him abruptly, and rushed to a rendezvous of his confederates, every
man of whom was ready for a desperate venture.  Groups of excited people
were seen vociferating in different places.  A drum was heard to rattle
from time to time.  Nevertheless, the rising tumult seemed to subside
again after a season, owing partly to the exertions of the magistrates,
partly to the absence of Ryhove.  At four in the afternoon that gentleman
entered the town, and riding directly to the head-quarters of the
conspiracy, was incensed to hear that the work, which had begun so
bravely, had been allowed to cool.  "Tis a time," he cried, "for
vigilance.  If we sleep now, we shall be dead in our beds before morning.
Better to fan the fire which has begun to blaze in the people's heart.
Better to gather the fruit while it is ripe.  Let us go forward, each
with his followers, and I pledge myself to lead the way.  Let us scuttle
the old ship of slavery; let us hunt the Spanish Inquisition, once for
all, to the hell from whence it came!"

"There spoke the voice of a man!" cried the Flemish captain, Mieghem, one
of the chief conspirators; "lead on, Ryhove, I swear to follow you as far
as our legs will carry us."  Thus encouraged, Ryhove, rushed about the
city, calling upon the people everywhere to rise.  They rose almost to a
man.  Arming and mustering at different points, according to previous
arrangements, a vast number assembled by toll of bell, after nightfall,
on the public square, whence, under command of Ryhove, they swept to the
residence of Aerschot at Saint Bavon.  The guards, seeing the fierce mob
approaching, brandishing spears and waving, torches, had scarce time to
close the gates; as the people loudly demanded entrance and the delivery
to them of the Governor.  Both claims were refused.  "Let us burn the
birds in their nests," cried Ryhove, without hesitation.  Pitch, light
wood, and other combustibles, were brought at his command, and in a few
moments the palace would have been in flames, had not Aerschot, seeing
that the insurgents were in earnest, capitulated.  As soon as the gates
were open, the foremost of the mob rushed upon him, and would have torn
him limb from limb, had not Ryhove resolutely interfered, and twice
protected the life of the governor, at the peril of his own.  The Duke
was then made a prisoner, and, under a strong guard, was conveyed, still
in his night-gown, and bare-footed, to the mansion of Ryhove.  All the
other leading members of the Catholic party were captured, the arrests
proceeding till a late hour in the night.  Rassinghem, Sweveghem, Fisch,
De la Porta, and other prominent members of the Flemish estates or
council, were secured, but Champagny was allowed to make his escape.
The Bishops of Bruges and Ypres were less fortunate.  Blood-councillor
Hessels, whose letter--genuine or counterfeited--had been so instrumental
in hastening this outbreak, was most carefully guarded, and to him and to
Senator Fisch the personal consequences of that night's work were to be
very tragic.

Thus audaciously, successfully, and hitherto without bloodshed, was the
anti-Catholic revolution commenced in Flanders.  The event was the first
of a long and most signal series.  The deed was done.  The provisional
government was established, at the head of which was placed Ryhove, to
whom oaths of allegiance were rendered, subject to the future
arrangements of the states-general and Orange: On the 9th of November,
the nobles, notables, and community of Ghent published an address, in
which they elaborately defended the revolution which had been effected
and the arrests which had taken place; while the Catholic party, with
Aerschot at its head, was declared to be secretly in league with Don John
to bring back the Spanish troops, to overthrow the Prince of Orange, to
deprive him of the protectorate of Brabant, to set at nought the Ghent
treaty, and to suppress the Reformed religion.

The effect of this sudden rising of the popular party was prodigious
throughout the Netherlands.  At the same time, the audacity of such
extreme proceedings could hardly be countenanced by any considerable
party in the states-general.  Champagny wrote to the Prince of Orange
that, even if the letter of Hessels were genuine, it proved nothing
against Aerschot, and he urged the necessity of suppressing such scene of
licence immediately, through the influence of those who could command the
passions of the mob.  Otherwise, he affirmed that all legitimate forms of
justice would disappear, and that it would be easy to set the bloodhounds
upon any game whatever.  Saint Aldegonde wrote to the Prince, that it
would be a great point, but a very difficult one, to justify the Ghent
transaction; for there was little doubt that the Hessels letter was a
forgery.  It was therefore as well, no doubt, that the Prince had not
decidedly committed himself to Ryhove's plot; and thus deprived himself
of the right to interfere afterwards, according to what seemed the claims
of justice and sound policy.

He now sent Arend Van Dorp to Ghent, to remonstrate with the leaders of
the insurrection upon the violence of their measures, and to demand the
liberation of the prisoners--a request which was only complied with in
the case of Aerschot.  That nobleman was liberated on the 14th of
November, under the condition that he would solemnly pledge himself to
forget and forgive the treatment which he had received, but the other
prisoners were retained in custody for a much longer period.  A few weeks
afterwards, the Prince of Orange visited Ghent, at the earnest request of
the four estates of Flanders, and it was hoped that his presence would
contribute to the restoration of tranquillity.

This visit was naturally honored by a brilliant display of "rhetorical"
spectacles and tableaux vivants; for nothing could exceed the passion of
the Netherlanders of that century for apologues and charades.  In
allegory they found an ever-present comforter in their deepest
afflictions.  The prince was escorted from the Town-gate to the Jacob's
church amid a blaze of tar-barrels and torches, although it was mid-day,
where a splendid exhibition had been arranged by that sovereign guild of
rhetoric, "Jesus with the Balsam Flower."  The drama was called Judas
Maccabaeus, in compliment to the Prince.  In the centre of the stage
stood the Hebrew patriot, in full armor, symbolizing the illustrious
guest doing battle for his country.  He was attended by the three estates
of the country, ingeniously personified by a single individual, who wore
the velvet bonnet of a noble, the cassock of a priest, end the breeches
of a burgher.  Groups of allegorical personages were drawn up on the
right and left;--Courage, Patriotism, Freedom, Mercy, Diligence, and
other estimable qualities upon one side, were balanced by Murder, Rapine,
Treason, and the rest of the sisterhood of Crime on the other.  The
Inquisition was represented as a lean and hungry hag.  The "Ghent
Pacification" was dressed in cramoisy satin, and wore a city on her head
for a turban; while; tied to her apron-strings were Catholicism and
Protestantism, bound in a loving embrace by a chain of seventeen links,
which she was forging upon an anvil.  Under the anvil was an individual
in complete harness, engaged in eating his heart; this was Discord.  In
front of the scene stood History and Rhetoric, attired as "triumphant
maidens, in white garments," each with a laurel crown and a burning
torch.  These personages, after holding a rhymed dialogue between
themselves, filled with wonderful conceits and quibbles, addressed the
Prince of Orange and Maccabaeus, one after the other, in a great quantity
of very detestable verses.

After much changing of scenes and groups, and an enormous quantity of
Flemish-woven poetry, the "Ghent Peace" came forward, leading a lion in
one hand, and holding a heart of pure gold in the other.  The heart, upon
which was inscribed Sinceritas, was then presented to the real Prince, as
he sat "reposing after the spectacle," and perhaps slightly yawning, the
gift being accompanied by another tremendous discharge of complimentary
verses.  After this, William of Orange was permitted to proceed towards
the lodgings provided for him, but the magistrates and notables met him
upon the threshold, and the pensionary made him a long oration.  Even
after the Prince was fairly housed, he had not escaped the fangs of
allegory; for, while he sat at supper refreshing his exhausted frame
after so much personification and metaphor, a symbolical personage,
attired to represent the town corporation made his appearance, and poured
upon him a long and particularly dull heroic poem.  Fortunately, this
episode closed the labors of the day.

On the 7th of December, 1577, the states-general formally declared that
Don John was no longer Stadholder, Governor, nor Captain-General, but an
infractor of the peace which he had sworn to maintain, and an enemy of
the fatherland.  All natives of the country who should show him favor or
assistance were declared rebels and traitors; and by a separate edict,
issued the same day, it was ordained that an inventory of the estates of
such persons should forthwith be taken.

Thus the war, which had for a brief period been suspended during the
angry, tortuous, and hopeless negotiations which succeeded the arrival
of Don John, was once more to be let loose.  To this point had tended all
the policy of Orange-faithful as ever to the proverb with which he had
broken off the Breda conferences, "that war was preferable to a doubtful
peace."  Even, however, as his policy had pointed to a war as the
necessary forerunner of a solid peace with Spain, so had his efforts
already advanced the cause of internal religious concord within the
provinces themselves.  On the 10th of December, a new act of union was
signed at Brussels, by which those of the Roman Church and those who had
retired from that communion bound themselves to respect and to protect
each other with mutual guarantees against all enemies whatsoever.
Here was a step beyond the Ghent Pacification, and in the same direction.
The first treaty tacitly introduced toleration by suppressing the right
of persecution, but the new union placed the Reformed religion on a level
with the old.  This was the result of the Prince's efforts; and, in
truth, there was no lack of eagerness among these professors of a faith
which had been so long under ban, to take advantage of his presence.
Out of dark alleys, remote thickets, subterranean conventicles, where the
dissenters had so long been trembling for their lives, the oppressed now
came forth into the light of day.  They indulged openly in those forms of
worship which persecution had affected to regard with as much holy horror
as the Badahuennan or Hercynian mysteries of Celtic ages could inspire,
and they worshipped boldly the common God of Catholic and Puritan, in the
words most consonant to their tastes, without dreading the gibbet as an
inevitable result of their audacity.

In truth, the time had arrived for bringing the northern and southern,
the Celtic and German, the Protestant and Catholic, hearts together, or
else for acquiescing in their perpetual divorce.  If the sentiment of
nationality, the cause of a common fatherland, could now overcome the
attachment to a particular form of worship--if a common danger and a
common destiny could now teach the great lesson of mutual toleration,
it might yet be possible to create a united Netherland, and defy for ever
the power of Spain.  Since the Union of Brussels, of January, 1577, the
internal cancer of religious discord had again begun to corrode the body
politic.  The Pacification of Ghent had found the door open to religious
toleration.  It had not opened, but had left it open.  The union of
Brussels had closed the door again.  Contrary to the hopes of the Prince
of Orange and of the patriots who followed in his track, the sanction
given to the Roman religion had animated the Catholics to fresh arrogance
and fresh persecution.  In the course of a few months, the only fruits of
the new union, from which so much had been hoped, were to be seen in
imprisonments, confiscations, banishments, executions.  The Perpetual
Edict, by which the fifteen provinces had united in acknowledging Don
John while the Protestant stronghold of Holland and Zealand had been
placed in a state of isolation by the wise distrust of Orange, had
widened the breach between Catholics and Protestants.  The subsequent
conduct of Don John had confirmed the suspicions and demonstrated the
sagacity of the Prince.  The seizure of Namur and the open hostility
avowed by the Governor once more forced the provinces together.  The
suppressed flames of nationality burst forth again.  Catholic and
Protestant, Fleming and Hollander, instinctively approached each other,
and felt the necessity of standing once more shoulder to shoulder in
defence of their common rights.  The Prince of Orange was called for by
the unanimous cry of the whole country.  He came to Brussels.  His first
step, as already narrated, was to break off negotiations which had been
already ratified by the votes of the states-general.  The measure was
reconsidered, under pretence of adding certain amendments.  Those
amendments were the unconditional articles of surrender proposed for
Don John's signature on the 25th of September--articles which could only
elicit words of defiance from his lips.

Thus far the Prince's object was accomplished.  A treacherous peace,
which would have ensured destruction, was averted, but a new obstacle to
the development of his broad and energetic schemes arose in the intrigue
which brought the Archduke from Vienna.  The cabals of Orange's secret
enemies were again thwarted with the same adroitness to which his avowed
antagonists were forced to succumb.  Matthias was made the exponent of
the new policy, the standard-bearer of the new union which the Prince now
succeeded in establishing; for his next step was immediately to impress
upon the provinces which had thus united in casting down the gauntlet to
a common enemy the necessity of uniting in a permanent league.  One
province was already lost by the fall of Namur.  The bonds of a permanent
union for the other sixteen could be constructed of but one material--
religious toleration, and for a moment, the genius of Orange, always so
far beyond his age, succeeded in raising the mass of his countrymen to
the elevation upon which he had so long stood alone.

The "new or nearer Union of Brussels" was signed on the 10th of December,
eleven months after the formation of the first union.  This was the third
and, unfortunately, the last confederation of all the Netherlands.
The original records have been lost, but it is known that the measure
was accepted unanimously in the estates-general as soon as presented.
The leading Catholic nobles were with the army, but a deputation, sent
to the camp, returned with their signatures and hearty approval; with
the signatures and approval of such determined Catholics as the Lalains,
Meluns, Egmont, and La Motte.  If such men could unite for the sake of
the fatherland in an act of religious toleration, what lofty hopes for
the future was not the Prince justified in forming;  for it was the
Prince alone who accomplished this victory of reason over passion.
As a monument, not only of his genius, but of the elevated aspirations
of a whole people in an age of intolerance, the "closer Union of
Brussels" deserves especial place in the history of human progress.
Unfortunately, it was destined to a brief existence.  The battle of
Gemblours was its death-blow, and before the end of a month, the union
thus hopefully constructed was shattered for ever.  The Netherland
people was never united again.  By the Union of Utrecht, seven states
subsequently rescued their existence, and lived to construct a powerful
republic.  The rest were destined to remain for centuries in the
condition of provinces to a distant metropolis, to be shifted about as
make-weights in political balances, and only in our own age to come into
the honorable rank of independent constitutional states.

The Prince had, moreover, strengthened himself for the coming struggle by
an alliance with England.  The thrifty but politic Queen, fearing the
result of the secret practices of Alencon--whom Orange, as she suspected,
still kept in reserve to be played off, in case of need, against Matthias
and Don John--had at last consented to a treaty of alliance and subsidy.
On the 7th of January, 1578, the Marquis Havre, envoy from the estates,
concluded an arrangement in London, by which the Queen was to lend them
her credit--in other words, to endorse their obligations, to the amount
of one hundred thousand pounds sterling.  The money was to be raised
wherever the states might be able to negotiate the bills, and her
liability was to cease within a year.  She was likewise to be
collaterally secured by pledges from certain cities in the Netherlands.
This amount was certainly not colossal, while the conditions were
sufficiently parsimonious.  At the same time a beginning was made,
and the principle of subsidy was established.  The Queen, furthermore,
agreed to send five thousand infantry and one thousand cavalry to the
provinces, under the command of an officer of high rank, who was to have
a seat and vote in the Netherland Council of State.  These troops were to
be paid by the provinces, but furnished by the Queen.  The estates were
to form no treaty without her knowledge, nor undertake any movement of
importance without her consent.  In case she should be herself attacked
by any foreign power, the provinces were to assist her to the same extent
as the amount of aid now afforded to themselves; and in case of a naval
war, with a fleet of at least forty ships.  It had already been arranged
that the appointment of the Prince of Orange as Lieutenant-General for
Matthias was a 'sine qua non' in any treaty of assistance with England.
Soon after the conclusion of this convention, Sir Thomas Wilkes was
despatched on a special mission to Spain, and Mr. Leyton sent to confer
privately with Don John.  It was not probable, however, that the
diplomatic skill of either would make this new arrangement palatable to
Philip or his Governor.

Within a few days after their signature of this important treaty, the
Prince had, at length, wholly succeeded in conquering the conflicting
passions in the states-general, and in reconciling them, to a certain
extent, with each other.  The closer union had been accepted, and now
thirty articles, which had been prepared under his superintendence, and
had already on the 17th of December been accepted by Matthias, were
established as the fundamental terms, according to which the Archduke was
to be received as Governor-General.  No power whatever was accorded to
the young man, who had come so far with eager and ambitious views.  As
the Prince had neither solicited nor desired a visit which had, on the
contrary, been the result of hostile machinations, the Archduke could
hardly complain that the power accorded him was but shadowy, and that his
presence was rendered superfluous.  It was not surprising that the common
people gave him the name of Greffier, or registering clerk to the Prince;
for his functions were almost limited to the signing of acts which were
countersigned by Orange.  According to the stipulations of the Queen of
England, and the views of the whole popular party, the Prince remained
Ruward of Brabant, notwithstanding the appointment of a nominal Governor-
General, by whom his own duties were to be superseded.

The articles which were laid down as the basis upon which the Archduke
was to be accepted; composed an ample representative constitution, by
which all the legislative and many of the executive powers of government
were bestowed upon the states-general or upon the council by them to be
elected.  To avoid remaining in the condition of a people thus left
without a head, the states declared themselves willing to accept Matthias
as Governor-General, on condition of the King's subsequent approbation,
and upon the general basis of the Ghent treaty.  The Archduke, moreover,
was to take an oath of allegiance to the King and to the states-general
at the same time.  He was to govern the land by the advice of a state
council, the members of which were to be appointed by the states-general,
and were "to be native Netherlanders, true patriots; and neither
ambitious nor greedy."  In all matters discussed before the state
council, a majority of votes was to decide.  The Governor-General, with
his Council of State, should conclude nothing concerning the common
affairs of the nation--such as requests, loans, treaties of peace or
declarations of war, alliances or confederacies with foreign nations--
without the consent of the states-general.  He was to issue no edict or
ordinance, and introduce no law, without the consent of the same body
duly assembled, and representing each individual province.  A majority of
the members was declared necessary to a quorum of the council.  All acts
and despatches were to be drawn up by a member of the board.  The states-
general were to assemble when, where, and as often as, and remain in
session as long as, they might think it expedient.  At the request of any
individual province, concerning matters about which a convention of the
generality was customary, the other states should be bound to assemble
without waiting for directions from the Governor-General.  The estates of
each particular province were to assemble at their pleasure.  The
governor and council, with advice of the states-general, were to appoint
all the principal military officers.  Troops were to be enrolled and
garrisons established by and with the consent of the states.  Governors
of provinces were to be appointed by the Governor-General, with advice
of his council, and with the consent of the estates of the province
interested.  All military affairs were to be conducted during war by
the governor, with advice of his council, while the estates were to have
absolute control over the levying and expenditure of the common funds of
the country.

It is sufficiently plain from this brief summary, that the powers thus
conferred upon Matthias alone, were absolutely null, while those which he
might exercise in conjunction with the state council, were not much more
extensive.  The actual force of the government--legislative, executive,
and, administrative--was lodged in the general assembly, while no
authority was left to the King, except the nominal right to approve these
revolutionary proceedings, according to the statement in the preamble.
Such a reservation in favor of his Majesty seemed a superfluous sarcasm.
It was furthermore resolved that the Prince of Orange should be appointed
Lieutenant-General for Matthias, and be continued in his office of
Ruward.  This constitution, drawn up under the superintendence of the
Prince, had been already accepted by Matthias, while still at Antwerp,
and upon the 18th of January, 1578, the ceremony of his inauguration took
place.

It was the third triumphal procession which Brussels had witnessed within
nine months.  It was also the most brilliant of all; for the burghers, as
if to make amends to the Archduke for the actual nullity to which he had
been reduced, seemed resolved to raise him to the seventh heaven of
allegory.  By the rhetorical guilds he was regarded as the most brilliant
constellation of virtues which had yet shone above the Flemish horizon.
A brilliant cavalcade, headed by Orange, accompanied by Count John of
Nassau, the Prince de Chimay and other notables, met him at Vilvoorde,
and escorted him to the city gate.  On an open field, outside the town,
Count Bossu had arranged a review of troops, concluding with a sham-
fight, which, in the words of a classical contemporary, seemed as "bloody
a rencontre as that between Duke Miltiades of Athens and King Darius upon
the plains of Attics."  The procession entered the Louvain gate, through
a splendid triumphal arch, filled with a band of invisible musicians.
"I believe that Orpheus had never played so melodiously on his harp,"
says the same authority, "nor Apollo on his lyre, nor Pan on his lute, as
the city waits then performed."  On entering the gates, Matthias was at
once delivered over to the hands of mythology, the burghers and
rhetoricians taking possession of their illustrious captive, and being
determined to outdo themselves in demonstrations of welcome.  The
representatives of the "nine nations" of Brussels met him in the Ritter-
street, followed by a gorgeous retinue.  Although it was mid-day, all
bore flaming torches.  Although it was January, the streets were strewed
with flowers.  The houses were festooned with garlands, and hung with
brilliant silks and velvets.  The streets were thronged with spectators,
and encumbered with triumphal arches.  On the Grande Place always the
central scene in Brussels, whether for comedies, or tournaments, or
executions, the principal dramatic effects had been accumulated.  The
splendid front of the Hotel de Ville was wreathed with scarfs and
banners; its windows and balconies, as well as those of the picturesque
houses which formed the square, were crowded with gaily-dressed women.
Upon the area of the place, twenty-four theatres had been erected, where
a aeries of magnificent living pictures were represented by the most
beautiful young females that could be found in the city.  All were
attired in brocades, embroideries, and cloth of gold.  The subjects of
the tableaux vivants were, of course, most classic, for the Netherlanders
were nothing, if not allegorical; yet, as spectacles, provided by
burghers and artisans for the amusement of their fellow-citizens, they
certainly proved a considerable culture in the people who could thus be
amused.  All the groups were artistically arranged.  Upon one theatre
stood Juno with her peacock, presenting Matthias with the city of
Brussels, which she held, beautifully modelled, in her hand.  Upon
another, Cybele gave him the keys, Reason handed him a bridle, Hebe a
basket of flowers, Wisdom a looking-glass and two law books, Diligence a
pair of spurs; while Constancy, Magnanimity, Prudence, and other virtues,
furnished him with a helmet; corslet, spear, and shield.  Upon other
theatres, Bellona presented him with several men-at-arms, tied in a
bundle; Fame gave him her trumpet, and Glory her crown.  Upon one stage
Quintus Curtius, on horseback, was seen plunging into the yawning abyss;
upon six others Scipio Africanus was exhibited, as he appeared in the
most picturesque moments of his career.  The beardless Archduke had never
achieved anything, save his nocturnal escape from Vienna in his night-
gown; but the honest Flemings chose to regard him as a re-incarnation of
those two eminent Romans.  Carried away by their own learning, they
already looked upon him as a myth; and such indeed he was destined to
remain throughout his Netherland career.  After surveying all these
wonders, Matthias was led up the hill again to the ducal palace, where,
after hearing speeches and odes till he was exhausted, he was at last
allowed to eat his supper and go to bed.

Meantime the citizens feasted in the streets.  Bonfires were blazing
everywhere, at which the people roasted "geese, pigs, capons, partridges,
and chickens," while upon all sides were the merriest piping and dancing.
Of a sudden, a fiery dragon was seen flying through the air.  It poised
for a while over the heads of the revelling crowd in the Grande Place,
and then burst with a prodigious explosion, sending forth rockets and
other fireworks in every direction.  This exhibition, then a new one,
so frightened the people, that they all took to their heels, "as if a
thousand soldiers had assaulted them," tumbling over each other in great
confusion, and so dispersing to their homes.

The next day Matthias took the oaths as Governor-General, to support the
new constitution, while the Prince of Orange was sworn in as Lieutenant-
General and Governor of Brabant.  Upon the next a splendid banquet was
given them in the grand ball of the Hotel de Ville, by the states-
general, and when the cloth was removed, Rhetoric made her last and most
ingenious demonstration, through the famous guild of "Mary with the
Flower Garland."

Two individuals--the one attired as a respectable burgher; the other as a
clerical personage in gown and bands-made their appearance upon a stage,
opposite the seats of their Highnesses, and pronounced a long dialogue in
rhyme.  One of the speakers rejoiced in the appellation of the "Desiring
Heart," the other was called "Common Comfort."  Common Sense might have
been more to the purpose, but appeared to have no part in the play.
Desiring Heart, being of an inquisitive disposition, propounded a series
of puzzling questions, mythological in their nature, which seemed like
classical conundrums, having reference, mainly, to the proceedings of
Venus, Neptune, Juno, and other divinities.  They appeared to have little
to do with Matthias or the matter in hand, but Common Comfort knew
better.  That clerical personage, accordingly, in a handsome allowance of
rhymes, informed his despairing colleague that everything would end well;
that Jupiter, Diana, Venus, and the rest of them would all do their duty,
and that Belgica would be relieved from all her woes, at the advent of a
certain individual.  Whereupon cried Desiring Heart,

                    Oh Common Comfort who is he?
                    His name, and of what family?

To which Comfort responded by mentioning the Archduke, in a poetical and
highly-complimentary strain, with handsome allusions to the inevitable
Quintus Curtius and Scipio Africanus.  The concluding words of the speech
were not spoken, but were taken as the cue for a splendid charade; the
long-suffering Scipio again making his appearance, in company with
Alexander and Hannibal; the group typifying the future government of
Matthias.  After each of these, heroic individuals had spouted a hundred
lines or so, the play was terminated, and Rhetoric took her departure.
The company had remained at table during this long representation, and
now the dessert was served, consisting of a "richly triumphant banquet of
confectionary, marmalade, and all kinds of genteelnesses in sugar."

Meanwhile, Don John sat chafing and almost frenzied with rage at Namur.
Certainly he had reasons enough for losing his temper.  Never since the
days of Maximilian had king's brother been so bearded by rebels.  The
Cross was humbled in the dust, the royal authority openly derided, his
Majesty's representative locked up in a fortress, while "the accursed
Prince of Orange" reigned supreme in Brussels, with an imperial Archduke
for his private secretary.

The Governor addressed a long, private, and most bitter letter to the
Emperor, for the purpose of setting himself right in the opinion of that
potentate, and of giving him certain hints as to what was expected of the
imperial court by Philip and himself.  He expressed confidence that the
imperial commissioners would have some effect in bringing about the
pacification of the Netherlands, and protested his own strong desire for
such a result, provided always that the two great points of the Catholic
religion and his Majesty's authority were preserved intact.  "In the hope
that those articles would be maintained," said he, "I have emptied cities
and important places of their garrisons, when I might easily have kept
the soldiers, and with the soldiers the places, against all the world,
instead of consigning them to the care of men who at this hour have arms
in their hand against their natural prince."  He declared vehemently that
in all his conduct, since his arrival in the provinces, he had been
governed exclusively by the interests of Philip, an object which he
should steadily pursue to the end.  He urged, too, that the Emperor,
being of the same house as Philip, and therefore more obliged than all
others to sustain his quarrel, would do well to espouse his cause with
all the warmth possible.  "The forgetfulness by vassals," said Don John,
"of the obedience due to their sovereign is so dangerous, that all princes
and potentates, even those at the moment exempt from trouble; should
assist in preparing the remedy, in order that their subjects also may not
take it into their heads to do the like, liberty being a contagious
disease, which goes on infecting one neighbour after another, if the cure
be not promptly applied."  It was, he averred, a desperate state of
things for monarchs, when subjects having obtained such concessions as
the Netherlanders had obtained, nevertheless loved him and obeyed him so
little.  They showed, but too clearly, that the causes alleged by them
had been but pretexts, in order to effect designs, long ago conceived,
to overthrow the ancient constitution of the country, and to live
thenceforward in unbridled liberty.  So many indecent acts had been
committed prejudicial to religion and to his Majesty's grandeur, that the
Governor avowed his, determination to have no farther communication with
the provinces without fresh commands to that effect.  He begged the
Emperor to pay no heed to what the states said, but to observe what they
did.  He assured him that nothing could be more senseless than the
reports that Philip and his Governor-General in the Netherlands were
negotiating with France, for the purpose of alienating the provinces from
the Austrian crown.  Philip, being chief of the family, and sovereign of
the Netherlands, could not commit the absurdity of giving away his own
property to other people, nor would Don John choose to be an instrument
in so foolish a transaction.  The Governor entreated the Emperor,
therefore, to consider such fables as the invention of malcontents and
traitors, of whom there were no lack at his court, and to remember that
nothing was more necessary for the preservation of the greatness of his
family than to cultivate the best relations with all its members.
"Therefore," said he, with an absurd affectation of candor, "although I
make no doubt whatever that the expedition hitherwards of the Archduke
Matthias has been made with the best intentions; nevertheless, many are
of opinion that it would have been better altogether omitted.  If the
Archduke," he continued, with hardly dissembled irony, "be desirous of
taking charge of his Majesty's affairs, it would be preferable to employ
himself in the customary manner.  Your Majesty would do a laudable action
by recalling him from this place, according to your Majesty's promise to
me to that effect."  In conclusion, Don John complained that difficulties
had been placed in his way for making levies of troops in the Empire,
while every facility had been afforded to the rebels.  He therefore
urgently insisted that so unnatural and unjust a condition of affairs
should be remedied.

Don John was not sorry in his heart that the crisis was at last come.
His chain was broken.  His wrath exploded in his first interview with
Leyton, the English envoy, whom Queen Elizabeth had despatched to calm,
if possible, his inevitable anger at her recent treaty with the states.
He knew nothing of England, he said, nor of France, nor of the Emperor.
His Catholic Majesty had commissioned him now to make war upon these
rebellious provinces.  He would do it with all his heart.  As for the
Emperor, he would unchain the Turks upon him for his perfidy.  As for the
burghers of Brussels, they would soon feel his vengeance.

It was very obvious that these were not idle threats.  War had again
broken loose throughout these doomed provinces.  A small but well-
appointed army had been rapidly collecting under the banner of Don John
at Luxemburg, Peter Ernest Mansfeld had brought many well-trained troops
from France, and Prince Alexander of Parma had arrived with several
choice and veteran regiments of Italy and Spain.  The old schoolfellow,
playmate and comrade of Don John, was shocked-on his arrival, to witness
the attenuated frame and care-worn features of his uncle.  The son of
Charles the Fifth, the hero of Lepanto, seemed even to have lost the air
of majesty which was so natural to him, for petty insults, perpetual
crosses, seemed to have left their squalid traces upon his features.
Nevertheless, the crusader was alive again, at the notes of warlike
preparations which now resounded throughout the land.

On the 25th of January he issued a proclamation, couched in three
languages--French, German, and Flemish.  He declared in this document
that he had not come to enslave the provinces, but to protect them.  At
the same time he meant to re-establish his Majesty's authority, and the
down-trod religion of Rome.  He summoned all citizens and all soldiers
throughout the provinces to join his banners, offering them pardon for
their past offences, and protection against heretics and rebels.  This
declaration was the natural consequence of the exchange of defiances
which had already taken place, and it was evident also that the angry
manifesto was soon to be followed up by vigorous blows.  The army of Don
John already numbered more than twenty thousand well-seasoned and
disciplined veterans.  He was himself the most illustrious chieftain in
Europe.  He was surrounded by lieutenants cf the most brilliant
reputation.  Alexander of Parma, who had fought with distinction at
Lepanto, was already recognised as possessing that signal military genius
which was soon to stamp him as the first soldier of his age, while
Mansfeld, Mondragon, Mendoza, and other distinguished officers, who had
already won so much fame in the Netherlands, had now returned to the
scene of their former achievements.

On the other hand, the military affairs of the states were in confusion.
Troops in nearly equal numbers to those of the royal army had been
assembled, but the chief offices had been bestowed, by a mistaken policy,
upon the great nobles.  Already the jealousy of Orange, entertained by
their whole order was painfully apparent.  Notwithstanding the signal
popularity which had made his appointment as Lieutenant-general
inevitable it was not easy for him always to vindicate his authority
over captious and rival magnates.  He had every wish to conciliate the
affections of men whom he could not in his heart respect, and he went
as far in gratifying their ambition as comported with his own dignity;
perhaps farther than was consistent with the national interests.  He was
still willing to trust Lalain, of whose good affection to the country
he felt sure.  Re had even been desirous of declining the office of
Lieutenant-General, in order to avoid giving that nobleman the least
occasion to think "that he would do him, or any other gentleman of the
army, prejudice in any single matter in the world."  This magnanimity
had, not been repaid with corresponding confidence.  We have already seen
that Lalain had been secretly in the interest of Anjou ever since his
wife and himself had lost their hearts to Margaret of Navarre; yet the
Count was chief commander of the infantry in the states' army then
assembled.  Robert Melun, Vicomte de Gand, was commander of the cavalry,
but he had recently been private envoy from Don John to the English
Queen.  Both these gentlemen, together with Pardieu De la Motte, general
of the artillery, were voluntarily absent from the forces, under pretext
of celebrating the wedding of the Seigneur De Bersel with the niece and
heiress of the unfortunate Marquis of Bergen.  The ghost of that ill-
starred noble might almost have seemed to rise at the nuptial banquet of
his heiress, to warn the traitors of the signal and bloody massacre which
their treachery was soon to occasion.  Philip Egmont, eldest son of the
famous Lamoral, was with the army, as was the Seigneur de Heze, hero of
the State Council's arrest, and the unstable Havre.  But little was to be
hoped from such leaders.  Indeed, the affairs of the states continued to
be in as perplexed a condition as that which honest John of Nassau had
described some weeks before.  "There were very few patriots," he had
said, "but plenty of priests, with no lack of inexperienced lads--some
looking for distinction, and others for pelf."

The two armies had been mustered in the latter days of January.  The Pope
had issued a bull for the benefit of Don John, precisely similar to those
formerly employed in the crusades against the Saracens.  Authority was
given him to levy contributions upon ecclesiastical property, while full
absolution, at the hour of death, for all crimes committed during a whole
lifetime, was proclaimed to those who should now join the standard of
the Cross.  There was at least no concealment.  The Crescent-wearing
Zealanders had been taken at their word, and the whole nation of
Netherlanders were formally banned as unbelievers.  The forces of Don
John were mustered at Marche in Luxemburg; those of the states in a plain
within a few miles of Namur.  Both armies were nearly equal in number,
amounting to nearly twenty thousand each, including a force of two
thousand cavalry on each side.  It had been the original intention of the
patriots to attack Don John in Namur.  Having learned, however, that he
purposed marching forth himself to offer battle, they decided to fall
back upon Gemblours, which was nine miles distant from that city.  On the
last day of January, they accordingly broke up their camp at Saint
Martius, before dawn, and marched towards Gemblours.  The chief commander
was De Goignies, an old soldier of Charles the Fifth, who had also fought
at Saint Quintin.  The states' army was disposed in three divisions.  The
van consisted of the infantry regiments of De Heze and Montigny, flanked
by a protective body of light horse.  The centre, composed of the Walloon
and German regiments, with a few companies of French, and thirteen
companies of Scotch and English under Colonel Balfour, was commanded by
two most distinguished officers, Bossu and Champagny.  The rear, which,
of course, was the post of responsibility and honor, comprised all the
heavy cavalry, and was commanded by Philip Egmont and Lumey de la Marck.
The Marquis Havre and the General-in-chief, Goignies, rode to and fro,
as the army proceeded, each attended by his staff.  The troops of Don
John broke up from before Namur with the earliest dawn, and marched in
pursuit of the retiring foe.  In front was nearly the whole of the
cavalry-carabineers, lancers, and heavy dragoons.  The centre, arranged
in two squares, consisted chiefly of Spanish infantry, with a lesser
number of Germans.  In the rear came the Walloons, marching also in a
square, and protecting the baggage and ammunition.  Charles Mansfeld had
been left behind with a reserved force, stationed on the Meuse; Ottavio
Gonzaga commanded in front, Ernest Mansfeld brought up the rear; while in
the centre rode Don John himself, attended by the Prince of Parma.  Over
his head streamed the crucifix-emblazoned banner, with its memorable
inscription--In hoc signo vici Turcos, in hoc Haereticos vincam.

Small detachments of cavalry had been sent forward; under Olivera and
Acosta, to scour the roads and forests, and to disturb all ambuscades
which might have been prepared.  From some stragglers captured by these
officers, the plans of the retreating generals were learned.  The
winter's day was not far advanced, when the rearward columns of the
states' army were descried in the distance.  Don John, making a selection
of some six hundred cavalry, all picked men, with a thousand infantry,
divided the whole into two bodies, which he placed under command of
Gonzaga and the famous old Christopher Mondragon.  These officers
received orders to hang on the rear of the enemy, to harass him, and to
do him all possible damage consistent with the possibility of avoiding a
general engagement, until the main army under Parma and Don John should
arrive.  The orders were at first strictly obeyed.  As the skirmishing
grew hotter, however, Goazaga observed that a spirited cavalry officer,
named Perotti, had already advanced, with a handful of men, much further
within the reach of the hostile forces than was deemed expedient.  He
sent hastily to recal the too eager chieftain.  The order, delivered in a
tone more peremptory than agreeable, was flatly disobeyed.  "Tell Ottavio
Gonzaga," said Perotti, "that I never yet turned my back on the enemy,
nor shall I now begin.  Moreover, were I ever so much inclined to do so,
retreat is impossible."  The retiring army was then proceeding along the
borders of a deep ravine, filled with mire and water, and as broad and
more dangerous than a river.  In the midst of the skirmishing, Alexander
of Parma rode up to reconnoitre.  He saw at once that the columns of the
enemy were marching unsteadily to avoid being precipitated into this
creek.  He observed the waving of their spears, the general confusion of
their ranks, and was quick to take advantage of the fortunate moment.
Pointing out to the officers about him the opportunity thus offered of
attacking the retiring army unawares in flank, he assembled, with great
rapidity, the foremost companies of cavalry already detached from the
main body.  Mounting a fresh and powerful horse, which Camillo Monte held
in readiness for him, he signified his intention of dashing through the
dangerous ravine, and dealing a stroke where it was least expected, "Tell
Don John of Austria," he cried to an officer whom he sent back to the
Commander-in-chief, "that Alexander of Parma has plunged into the abyss,
to perish there, or to come-forth again victorious."

The sudden thought was executed with lightning-like celerity.  In an
instant the bold rider was already struggling through the dangerous
swamp; in another, his powerful charger had carried him across.  Halting
for a few minutes, lance in rest, till his troops had also forced their
passage, gained the level ground unperceived, and sufficiently breathed
their horses, he drew up his little force in a compact column.  Then,
with a few words of encouragement, he launched them at the foe.  The
violent and entirely unexpected shock was even more successful than the
Prince had anticipated.  The hostile cavalry reeled and fell into
hopeless confusion, Egmont in vain striving to rally them to resistance.
That name had lost its magic.  Goignies also attempted, without success,
to restore order among the panic-struck ranks.  The sudden conception of
Parma, executed as suddenly and in so brilliant a manner, had been
decisive.  Assaulted in flank and rear at the same moment, and already in
temporary confusion, the cavalry of the enemy turned their backs and
fled.  The centre of the states' army thus left exposed, was now warmly
attacked by Parma.  It had, moreover, been already thrown into disorder
by the retreat of its own horse, as they charged through them in rapid
and disgraceful panic.  The whole army bloke to pieces at once, and so
great was the trepidation, that the conquered troops had hardly courage
to run away.  They were utterly incapable of combat.  Not a blow was
struck by the fugitives.  Hardly a man in the Spanish ranks was wounded;
while, in the course of an hour and a half, the whole force of the enemy
was exterminated.  It is impossible to state with accuracy the exact
numbers slain.  Some accounts spoke of ten thousand killed, or captive,
with absolutely no loss on the royal side.  Moreover, this slaughter was
effected, not by the army under Don John, but by so small a fragment of
it, that some historians have even set down the whole number of royalists
engaged at the commencement of the action, at six hundred, increased
afterwards to twelve hundred.  By this calculation, each Spaniard engaged
must have killed ten enemies with his own hand; and that within an hour
and a half's space!  Other historians more wisely omit the exact
statistics of the massacre, and allow that a very few--ten or eleven, at
most--were slain within the Spanish ranks.  This, however, is the utmost
that is claimed by even the Netherland historians, and it is, at any
rate, certain that the whole states' army was annihilated.

Rarely had a more brilliant exploit been performed by a handful of
cavalry.  To the distinguished Alexander of Parma, who improvised so
striking and complete a victory out of a fortuitous circumstance,
belonged the whole credit of the day, for his quick eye detected a
passing weakness of the enemy, and turned it to terrible account with the
promptness which comes from genius alone.  A whole army was overthrown.
Everything belonging to the enemy fell into the hands of the Spaniards.
Thirty-four standards, many field-pieces, much camp equipage, and
ammunition, besides some seven or eight thousand dead bodies, and six
hundred living prisoners, were the spoils of that winter's day.  Of the
captives, some were soon afterwards hurled off the bridge at Namur, and
drowned like dogs in the Meuse, while the rest were all hanged, none
escaping with life.  Don John's clemency was not superior to that of his
sanguinary predecessors.

And so another proof was added--if proofs were still necessary of Spanish
prowess.  The Netherlanders may be pardoned if their foes seemed to them
supernatural, and almost invulnerable.  How else could these enormous
successes be accounted for?  How else could thousands fall before the
Spanish swords, while hardly a single Spanish corpse told of effectual
resistance?  At Jemmingen, Alva had lost seven soldiers, and slain seven
thousand; in the Antwerp Fury, two hundred Spaniards, at most, had
fallen, while eight thousand burghers and states' troops had been
butchered; and now at Gemblours, six, seven, eight, ten--Heaven knew how
many--thousand had been exterminated, and hardly a single Spaniard had
been slain!  Undoubtedly, the first reason for this result was the
superiority of the Spanish soldiers.  They were the boldest, the best
disciplined, the most experienced in the world.  Their audacity,
promptness, and ferocity made them almost invincible.  In this particular
action, at least half the army of Don John was composed of Spanish or
Spanish-Italian veterans.  Moreover, they were commanded by the most
renowned captains of the age--by Don John himself, and Alexander of
Parma, sustained by such veterans as Mondragon, the hero of the memorable
submarine expeditions; Mendoza, the accomplished cavalry officer,
diplomatist, and historian; and Mansfeld, of whom Don John had himself
written to the King that his Majesty had not another officer of such
account in all the Netherlands.  Such officers as these, besides Gonzaga,
Camillo Monte, Mucio Pagano, at the head of such troops as fought that
day under the banner of the Cross, might go far in accounting for this
last and most tremendous victory of the Inquisition.  On the other hand,
although Bossu and Champagny were with the states' army, yet their hearts
were hardly with the cause.  Both had long been loyal, and had earned
many laurels against the rebels, while Champagny was still devoutly a
Papist, and wavered painfully between his hatred to heresy and to Spain.
Egmont and De Heze were raw, unpractised lads, in whom genius did not
come to supply the place of experience.  The Commander, De Goignies, was
a veteran, but a veteran who had never gained much glory, and the chiefs
of the cavalry, infantry, and artillery, were absent at the Brussels
wedding.  The news of this additional massacre inflicted upon a nation,
for which Berghen and Montigny had laid down their lives, was the nuptial
benediction for Berghen's heiress; for it was to the chief wedding guests
upon, that occasion that the disaster was justly attributed.  The rank
and file of the states' army were mainly mercenaries, with whom the hope
of plunder was the prevailing motive; the chief commanders were absent;
while those officers who were with the troops were neither heartily
friendly to their own flag  nor sufficiently experienced to make it
respected.




ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

Absurd affectation of candor
Always less apt to complain of irrevocable events
Imagined, and did the work of truth
Judas Maccabaeus
Neither ambitious nor greedy
Superfluous sarcasm