SYSTEM ESTABLISHED BY PHILIP.
Unpopular Manners of Philip.--He enforces the Edicts.--Increase of
Bishoprics.--Margaret of Parma Regent.--Meeting of the
States-General.--Their spirited Conduct.--Organization of the
Councils.--Rise and Character of Granvelle.--Philip's Departure.
1559.
Philip the Second was no stranger to the Netherlands. He had come there,
as it will be remembered, when very young, to be presented by his father
to his future subjects. On that occasion he had greatly disgusted the
people by that impenetrable reserve which they construed into
haughtiness, and which strongly contrasted with the gracious manners of
the emperor. Charles saw with pain the impression which his son had left
on his subjects; and the effects of his paternal admonitions were
visible in a marked change in Philip's deportment on his subsequent
visit to England. But nature lies deeper than manner; and when Philip
returned, on his father's abdication, to assume the sovereignty of the
Netherlands, he wore the same frigid exterior as in earlier days.
His first step was to visit the different provinces, and receive from
them their oaths of allegiance. No better occasion could be offered for
conciliating the good-will of the inhabitants. Everywhere his approach
was greeted with festivities and public rejoicing. The gates of the
capitals were thrown open to receive him, and the population thronged
out, eager to do homage to their new sovereign. It was a season of
jubilee for the whole nation.
In this general rejoicing, Philip's eye alone remained dark.[399] Shut
up in his carriage, he seemed desirous to seclude himself from the gaze
of his new subjects, who crowded around, anxious to catch a glimpse of
their young monarch.[400] His conduct seemed like a rebuke of their
enthusiasm. Thus chilled as they were in the first flow of their
loyalty, his progress through the land, which should have won him all
hearts, closed all hearts against him.
The emperor, when he visited the Netherlands, was like one coming back
to his native country. He spoke the language of the people, dressed in
their dress, conformed to their usages and way of life. But Philip was
in everything a Spaniard. He spoke only the Castilian. He adopted the
Spanish etiquette and burdensome ceremonial. He was surrounded by
Spaniards, and, with few exceptions, it was to Spaniards only that he
gave his confidence. Charles had disgusted his Spanish subjects by the
marked preference he had given to his Flemish. The reverse now took
place, and Philip displeased the Flemings by his partiality for the
Spaniards. The people of the Netherlands felt with bitterness that the
sceptre of their country had passed into the hands of a foreigner.
During his progress Philip caused reports to be prepared for him of the
condition of the several provinces, their population and
trade,--presenting a mass of statistical details, in which, with his
usual industry, he was careful to instruct himself. On his return, his
first concern was to provide for the interests of religion. He renewed
his father's edicts relating to the Inquisition, and in the following
year confirmed the "placard" respecting heresy. In doing this, he was
careful, by the politic advice of Granvelle, to conform as nearly as
possible to the language of the original edicts, that no charge of
innovation might be laid to him, and thus the odium of these unpopular
measures might remain with their original author.[401]
[Sidenote: UNPOPULAR MANNERS OF PHILIP.]
But the object which Philip had most at heart was a reform much needed
in the ecclesiastical establishment of the country. It may seem strange
that in all the Netherlands there were but three bishoprics,--Arras,
Tournay, and Utrecht. A large part of the country was incorporated with
some one or other of the contiguous German dioceses. The Flemish
bishoprics were of enormous extent. That of Utrecht alone embraced no
less than three hundred walled towns, and eleven hundred churches.[402]
It was impossible that any pastor, however diligent, could provide for
the wants of a flock so widely scattered, or that he could exercise
supervision over the clergy themselves, who had fallen into a lamentable
decay both of discipline and morals.
Still greater evils followed from the circumstance of the episcopal
authority's being intrusted to foreigners. From their ignorance of the
institutions of the Netherlands, they were perpetually trespassing on
the rights of the nation. Another evil consequence was the necessity of
carrying up ecclesiastical causes, by way of appeal, to foreign
tribunals; a thing, moreover, scarcely practicable in time of war.
Charles the Fifth, whose sagacious mind has left its impress on the
permanent legislation of the Netherlands, saw the necessity of some
reform in this matter. He accordingly applied to Rome for leave to erect
six bishoprics, in addition to those previously existing in the country.
But his attention was too much distracted by other objects to allow time
for completing his design. With his son Philip, on the other hand, no
object was allowed to come in competition with the interests of the
Church. He proposed to make the reform on a larger scale than his father
had done, and applied to Paul the Fourth for leave to create fourteen
bishoprics and three archbishoprics. The chief difficulty lay in
providing for the support of the new dignitaries. On consultation with
Granvelle, who had not been advised of the scheme till after Philip's
application to Rome, it was arranged that the income should be furnished
by the abbey lands of the respective dioceses, and that the abbeys
themselves should hereafter be placed under the control of priors or
provosts depending altogether on the bishops. Meanwhile, until the bulls
should be received from Rome, it was determined to keep the matter
profoundly secret. It was easy to foresee that a storm of opposition
would arise, not only among those immediately interested in preserving
the present order of things, but among the great body of the nobles, who
would look with an evil eye on the admission into their ranks of so
large a number of persons servilely devoted to the interests of the
crown.[403]
Having concluded his arrangements for the internal settlement of the
country, Philip naturally turned his thoughts towards Spain. He was the
more desirous of returning thither from the reports he received, that
even that orthodox land was becoming every day more tainted with the
heretical doctrines so rife in the neighboring countries. There were no
hostilities to detain him longer in the Netherlands, now that the war
with France had been brought to a close. The provinces, as we have
already stated, had furnished the king with important aid for carrying
on that war, by the grant of a stipulated annual tax for nine years.
This had not proved equal to his necessities. It was in vain, however,
to expect any further concessions from the states. They had borne, not
without murmurs, the heavy burdens laid on them by Charles,--a monarch
whom they loved. They bore still more impatiently the impositions of a
prince whom they loved so little as Philip. Yet the latter seemed ready
to make any sacrifice of his permanent interests for such temporary
relief as would extricate him from his present embarrassments. His
correspondence with Granvelle on the subject, unfolding the suicidal
schemes which he submitted to that minister, might form an edifying
chapter in the financial history of that day.[404] The difficulty of
carrying on the government of the Netherlands in this crippled state of
the finances doubtless strengthened the desire of the monarch to return
to his native land, where the manners and habits of the people were so
much more congenial with his own.
Before leaving the country, it was necessary to provide a suitable
person to whom the reins of government might be intrusted. The duke of
Savoy, who, since the emperor's abdication, had held the post of regent,
was now to return to his own dominions, restored to him by the treaty of
Cateau-Cambresis. There were several persons who presented themselves
for this responsible office in the Netherlands. One of the most
prominent was Lamoral, prince of Gavre, count of Egmont, the hero of St.
Quentin and of Gravelines. The illustrious house from which he was
descended, his chivalrous spirit, his frank and generous bearing, no
less than his brilliant military achievements, had made him the idol of
the people. There were some who insisted that these achievements
inferred rather the successful soldier than the great captain;[405] and
that, whatever merit he could boast in the field, it was no proof of his
capacity for so important a civil station as that of governor of the
Netherlands. Yet it could not be doubted that his nomination would be
most acceptable to the people. This did not recommend him to Philip.
Another candidate was Christine, duchess of Lorraine, the king's cousin.
The large estates of her house lay in the neighborhood of the
Netherlands. She had shown her talent for political affairs by the part
she had taken in effecting the arrangements of Cateau-Cambresis. The
prince of Orange, lately become a widower, was desirous, it was said, of
marrying her daughter. Neither did this prove a recommendation with
Philip, who was by no means anxious to raise the house of Orange higher
in the scale, still less to intrust it with the destinies of the
Netherlands. In a word, the monarch had no mind to confide the regency
of the country to any one of its powerful nobles.[406]
The individual on whom the king at length decided to bestow this mark of
his confidence was his half-sister, Margaret, duchess of Parma. She was
the natural daughter of Charles the Fifth, born about four years before
his marriage with Isabella of Portugal. Margaret's mother, Margaret
Vander Gheenst, belonged to a noble Flemish house. Her parents both died
during her infancy. The little orphan was received into the family of
Count Hoogstraten, who, with his wife, reared her with the same
tenderness as they did their own offspring. At the age of seventeen she
was unfortunate enough to attract the eye of Charles the Fifth, who,
then in his twenty-third year, was captivated by the charms of the
Flemish maiden. Margaret's virtue was not proof against the seductions
of her royal suitor; and the victim of love--or of vanity--became the
mother of a child, who received her own name of Margaret.
[Sidenote: MARGARET OF PARMA REGENT.]
The emperor's aunt, then regent of the Netherlands, took charge of the
infant; and on the death of that princess, she was taken into the family
of the emperor's sister, Mary, queen of Hungary, who succeeded in the
regency. Margaret's birth did not long remain a secret; and she received
an education suited to the high station she was to occupy in life. When
only twelve years of age, the emperor gave her in marriage to Alexander
de'Medici, grand duke of Tuscany, some fifteen years older than herself.
The ill-fated connection did not subsist long, as, before twelve months
had elapsed, it was terminated by the violent death of her husband.
When she had reached the age of womanhood, the hand of the young widow
was bestowed, together with the duchies of Parma and Placentia as her
dowry, on Ottavio Farnese, grandson of Paul the Third. The bridegroom
was but twelve years old. Thus again it was Margaret's misfortune that
there should be such disparity between her own age and that of her
husband as to exclude anything like sympathy or similarity in their
tastes. In the present instance, the boyish years of Ottavio inspired
her with a sentiment not very different from contempt, that in later
life settled into an indifference in which both parties appear to have
shared, and which, as a contemporary remarks with _naïveté_, was only
softened into a kindlier feeling when the husband and wife had been long
separated from each other.[407] In truth, Margaret was too ambitious of
power to look on her husband in any other light than that of a rival.
In her general demeanor, her air, her gait, she bore great resemblance
to her aunt, the regent. Like her, Margaret was excessively fond of
hunting, and she followed the chase with an intrepidity that might have
daunted the courage of the keenest sportsman. She had but little of the
natural softness that belongs to the sex, but in her whole deportment
was singularly masculine; so that, to render the words of the historian
by a homely phrase, in her woman's dress she seemed like a man in
petticoats.[408] As if to add to the illusion, Nature had given her
somewhat of a beard; and, to crown the whole, the malady to which she
was constitutionally subject was a disease to which women are but rarely
liable,--the gout.[409] It was good evidence of her descent from Charles
the Fifth.
Though masculine in her appearance, Margaret was not destitute of the
kindlier qualities which are the glory of her sex. Her disposition was
good; but she relied much on the advice of others, and her more
objectionable acts may probably be referred rather to their influence
than to any inclination of her own.
Her understanding was excellent, her apprehension quick. She showed much
versatility in accommodating herself to the exigencies of her position,
as well as adroitness in the management of affairs, which she may have
acquired in the schools of Italian politics. In religion she was as
orthodox as Philip the Second could desire. The famous Ignatius Loyola
had been her confessor in early days. The lessons of humility which he
inculcated were not lost on her, as may be inferred from the care she
took to perform the ceremony, in Holy Week, of washing the dirty
feet--she preferred them in this condition--of twelve poor maidens;[410]
outstripping, in this particular, the humility of the pope
himself.--Such was the character of Margaret, duchess of Parma, who now,
in the thirty-eighth year of her age, was called, at a most critical
period, to take the helm of the Netherlands.
The appointment seems to have given equal satisfaction to herself and to
her husband, and no objection was made to Philip's purpose of taking
back with him to Castile their little son, Alexander Farnese,--a name
destined to become in later times so renowned in the Netherlands. The
avowed purpose was to give the boy a training suited to his rank, under
the eye of Philip; combined with which, according to the historian, was
the desire of holding a hostage for the fidelity of Margaret and of her
husband, whose dominions in Italy lay contiguous to those of Philip in
that country.[411]
Early in June, 1559, Margaret of Parma, having reached the Low
Countries, made her entrance in great state into Brussels, where Philip
awaited her, surrounded by his whole court of Spanish and Flemish
nobles. The duke of Savoy was also present, as well as Margaret's
husband, the duke of Parma, then in attendance on Philip. The
appointment of Margaret was not distasteful to the people of the
Netherlands, for she was their countrywoman, and her early days had been
passed amongst them. Her presence was not less welcome to Philip, who
looked forward with eagerness to the hour of his departure. His first
purpose was to present the new regent to the nation, and for this he
summoned a meeting of the States-General at Ghent, in the coming August.
On the twenty-fifth of July, he repaired with his court to this ancient
capital, which still smarted under the effects of that chastisement of
his father, which, terrible as it was, had not the power to break the
spirits of the men of Ghent. The presence of the court was celebrated
with public rejoicings, which continued for three days, during which
Philip held a chapter of the Golden Fleece for the election of fourteen
knights. The ceremony was conducted with the magnificence with which the
meetings of this illustrious order were usually celebrated. It was
memorable as the last chapter of it ever held.[412] Founded by the dukes
of Burgundy, the order of the Golden Fleece drew its members immediately
from the nobility of the Netherlands. When the Spanish sovereign, who
remained at its head, no more resided in the country, the chapters were
discontinued; and the knights derived their appointment from the simple
nomination of the monarch.
On the eighth of August, the States-General assembled at Ghent. The
sturdy burghers who took their seats in this body came thither in no
very friendly temper to the government. Various subjects of complaint
had long been rankling in their bosoms, and now found vent in the form
of animated and angry debate. The people had been greatly alarmed by the
avowed policy of their rulers to persevere in the system of religious
persecution, as shown especially by the revival of the ancient edicts
against heresy and in support of the Inquisition. Rumors had gone
abroad, probably with exaggeration, of the proposed episcopal reforms.
However necessary, they were now regarded only as part of the great
scheme of persecution. Different nations, it was urged, required to be
guided by different laws. What suited the Spaniards would not for that
reason suit the people of the Netherlands. The Inquisition was ill
adapted to men accustomed from their cradles to freedom of thought and
action. Persecution was not to be justified in matters of conscience,
and men were not to be reclaimed from spiritual error by violence, but
by gentleness and persuasion.
[Sidenote: MEETING OF THE STATES-GENERAL.]
But what most called forth the invective of the Flemish orators was the
presence of a large body of foreign troops in the country. When Philip
disbanded his forces after the French war had terminated, there still
remained a corps of the old Spanish infantry, amounting to some three or
four thousands, which he thought proper to retain in the western
provinces. His avowed object was to protect the country from any
violence on the part of the French. Another reason assigned by him was
the difficulty of raising funds to pay their arrears. The true motive,
in the opinion of the states, was to enforce the execution of the new
measures, and overcome any resistance that might be made in the country.
These troops, like most of the soldiers of that day, who served for
plunder quite as much as for pay, had as little respect for the rights
or the property of their allies, as for those of their enemies. They
quartered themselves on the peaceful inhabitants of the country, and
obtained full compensation for loss of pay by a system of rapine and
extortion that beggared the people, and drove them to desperation.
Conflicts with the soldiery occasionally occurred, and in some parts the
peasantry even refused to repair the dikes, in order to lay the country
under water rather than submit to such outrages! "How is it," exclaimed
the bold syndic of Ghent, "that we find foreign soldiers thus quartered
on us, in open violation of our liberties? Are not our own troops able
to protect us from the dangers of invasion? Must we be ground to the
dust by the exactions of these mercenaries in peace, after being
burdened with the maintenance of them in war?" These remonstrances were
followed by a petition to the throne, signed by members of the other
orders as well as the commons, requesting that the king would be
graciously pleased to respect the privileges of the nation, and send
back the foreign troops to their own homes.
Philip, who sat in the assembly with his sister, the future regent, by
his side, was not prepared for this independent spirit in the burghers
of the Netherlands. The royal ear had been little accustomed to this
strain of invective from the subject. For it was rare that the tone of
remonstrance was heard in the halls of Castilian legislation, since the
power of the commons had been broken on the field of Villalar. Unable or
unwilling to conceal his displeasure, the king descended from his
throne, and abruptly quitted the assembly.[413]
Yet he did not, like Charles the First of England, rashly vent his
indignation by imprisoning or persecuting the members who had roused it.
Even the stout syndic of Ghent was allowed to go unharmed. Philip looked
above him to a mark more worthy of his anger,--to those of the higher
orders who had encouraged the spirit of resistance in the commons. The
most active of these malecontents was William of Orange. That noble, as
it may be remembered, was one of the hostages who remained at the Court
of Henry the Second for the fulfilment of the treaty of
Cateau-Cambresis. While there, a strange disclosure was made to the
prince by the French monarch, who told him that, through the duke of
Alva, a secret treaty had been entered into with his master, the king of
Spain, for the extirpation of heresy throughout their dominions. This
inconsiderate avowal of the French king was made to William on the
supposition that he was stanch in the Roman Catholic faith, and entirely
in his master's confidence. Whatever may have been the prince's claims
to orthodoxy at this period, it is certain he was not in Philip's
confidence. It is equally certain that he possessed one Christian virtue
which belonged neither to Philip nor to Henry,--the virtue of
toleration. Greatly shocked by the intelligence he had received, William
at once communicated it to several of his friends in the Netherlands.
One of the letters unfortunately fell into Philip's hands. The prince
soon after obtained permission to return to his own country, bent, as he
tells us in his Apology, on ridding it of the Spanish vermin.[414]
Philip, who understood the temper of his mind, had his eye on his
movements, and knew well to what source, in part at least, he was to
attribute the present opposition. It was not long after, that a
Castilian courtier intimated to the prince of Orange and to Egmont, that
it would be well for them to take heed to themselves; that the names of
those who had signed the petition for the removal of the troops had been
noted down, and that Philip and his council were resolved, when a
fitting occasion offered, to call them to a heavy reckoning for their
temerity.[415]
Yet the king so far yielded to the wishes of the people as to promise
the speedy departure of the troops. But no power on earth could have
been strong enough to shake his purpose where the interests of religion
were involved. Nor would he abate one jot of the stern provisions of the
edicts. When one of his ministers, more hardy than the rest, ventured to
suggest to him that perseverance in this policy might cost him the
sovereignty of the provinces, "Better not reign at all," he answered,
"than reign over heretics!"[416]--an answer extolled by some as the
height of the sublime, by others derided as the extravagance of a
fanatic. In whatever light we view it, it must be admitted to furnish
the key to the permanent policy of Philip in his government of the
Netherlands.
Before dissolving the States-General, Philip, unacquainted with the
language of the country, addressed the deputies through the mouth of the
bishop of Arras. He expatiated on the warmth of his attachment to his
good people of the Netherlands, and paid them a merited tribute for
their loyalty both to his father and to himself. He enjoined on them to
show similar respect to the regent, their own countrywoman, into whose
hands he had committed the government. They would reverence the laws and
maintain public tranquillity. Nothing would conduce to this so much as
the faithful execution of the edicts. It was their sacred duty to aid in
the extermination of heretics,--the deadliest foes both of God and their
sovereign. Philip concluded by assuring the states that he should soon
return in person to the Netherlands, or send his son Don Carlos as his
representative.
The answer of the legislature was temperate and respectful. They made no
allusion to Philip's proposed ecclesiastical reforms, as he had not
authorized this by any allusion to them himself. They still pressed,
however, the removal of the foreign troops, and the further removal of
all foreigners from office, as contrary to the constitution of the land.
This last shaft was aimed at Granvelle, who held a high post in the
government, and was understood to be absolute in the confidence of the
king. Philip renewed his assurances of the dismissal of the forces, and
that within the space, as he promised, of four months. The other request
of the deputies he did not condescend to notice. His feelings on the
subject were intimated in an exclamation he made to one of his
ministers: "I too am a foreigner; will they refuse to obey me as their
sovereign?"[417]
[Sidenote: ORGANIZATION OF THE COUNCILS.]
The regent was to be assisted in the government by three councils which
of old time had existed in the land;--the council of finance, for the
administration, as the name implies, of the revenues; the privy council,
for affairs of justice and the internal concerns of the country; and the
council of state, for matters relating to peace and war, and the foreign
policy of the nation. Into this last, the supreme council, entered
several of the Flemish nobles, and among them the prince of Orange and
Count Egmont. There were, besides, Count Barlaimont, president of the
council of finance, Viglius, president of the privy council, and lastly
Granvelle, bishop of Arras.
The regent was to act with the coöperation of these several bodies in
their respective departments. In the conduct of the government, she was
to be guided by the council of state. But by private instructions of
Philip, questions of a more delicate nature, involving the tranquillity
of the country, might be first submitted to a select portion of this
council; and in such cases, or when a spirit of faction had crept into
the council, the regent, if she deemed it for the interest of the state,
might adopt the opinion of the minority. The select body with whom
Margaret was to advise in the more important matters was termed the
_Consulta_; and the members who composed it were Barlaimont, Viglius,
and the bishop of Arras.[418]
The first of these men, Count Barlaimont, belonged to an ancient Flemish
family. With respectable talents and constancy of purpose, he was
entirely devoted to the interests of the crown. The second, Viglius, was
a jurist of extensive erudition, at this time well advanced in years,
and with infirmities that might have pressed heavily on a man less
patient of toil. He was personally attached to Granvelle; and as his
views of government coincided very nearly with that minister's, Viglius
was much under his influence. The last of the three, Granvelle, from his
large acquaintance with affairs, and his adroitness in managing them,
was far superior to his colleagues;[419] and he soon acquired such an
ascendancy over them, that the government may be said to have rested on
his shoulders. As there is no man who for some years is to take so
prominent a part in the story of the Netherlands, it will be proper to
introduce the reader to some acquaintance with his earlier history.
Anthony Perrenot--whose name of Granvelle was derived from an estate
purchased by his father--was born in the year 1517, at Besançon, a town
in Franche Comté. His father, Nicholas Perrenot, founded the fortunes of
the family, and from the humble condition of a poor country attorney
rose to the rank of chancellor of the empire. This extraordinary
advancement was not owing to caprice, but to his unwearied industry,
extensive learning, and a clear and comprehensive intellect, combined
with steady devotion to the interests of his master, Charles the Fifth.
His talent for affairs led him to be employed not merely in official
business, but in diplomatic missions of great importance. In short, he
possessed the confidence of the emperor to a degree enjoyed by no other
subject; and when the chancellor died, in 1550, Charles pronounced his
eulogy to Philip in a single sentence, saying that in Granvelle they had
lost the man on whose wisdom they could securely repose.[420]
Anthony Perrenot, distinguished from his father in later times as
Cardinal Granvelle, was the eldest of eleven children. In his childhood
he discovered such promise, that the chancellor bestowed much pains
personally on his instruction. At fourteen he was sent to Padua, and
after some years was removed to Louvain, then the university of greatest
repute in the Netherlands. It was not till later that the seminary of
Douay was founded, under the auspices of Philip the Second.[421] At the
university, the young Perrenot soon distinguished himself by the
vivacity of his mind, the acuteness of his perceptions, an industry
fully equal to his father's, and remarkable powers of acquisition.
Besides a large range of academic study, he made himself master of seven
languages, so as to read and converse in them with fluency. He seemed to
have little relish for the amusements of the youth of his own age. His
greatest amusement was a book. Under this incessant application his
health gave way, and for a time his studies were suspended.
Whether from his father's preference or his own, young Granvelle
embraced the ecclesiastical profession. At the age of twenty-one he was
admitted to orders. The son of the chancellor was not slow in his
advancement, and he was soon possessed of several good benefices. But
the ambitious and worldly temper of Granvelle was not to be satisfied
with the humble duties of the ecclesiastic. It was not long before he
was called to court by his father, and there a brilliant career was
opened to his aspiring genius.
The young man soon showed such talent for business, and such shrewd
insight into character, as, combined with the stores of learning he had
at his command, made his services of great value to his father. He
accompanied the chancellor on some of his public missions, among others
to the Council of Trent, where the younger Granvelle, who had already
been promoted to the see of Arras, first had the opportunity of
displaying that subtle, insinuating eloquence, which captivated as much
as it convinced.
[Sidenote: RISE AND CHARACTER OF GRANVELLE.]
The emperor saw with satisfaction the promise afforded by the young
statesman, and looked forward to the time when he would prove the same
pillar of support to his administration that his father had been before
him. Nor was that time far distant. As the chancellor's health declined,
the son became more intimately associated with his father in the
counsels of the emperor. He justified this confidence by the unwearied
toil with which he devoted himself to the business of the cabinet; a
toil to which even night seemed to afford no respite. He sometimes
employed five secretaries at once, dictating to them in as many
different languages.[422] The same thing, or something as miraculous,
has been told of other remarkable men, both before and since. As a mere
_tour de force_ Granvelle may possibly have amused himself with it. But
it was not in this way that the correspondence was written which
furnishes the best key to the events of the time. If it had been so
written, it would never have been worth the publication.
Every evening Granvelle presented himself before the emperor, and read
to him the programme he had prepared of the business of the following
day, with his own suggestions.[423] The foreign ambassadors who resided
at the court were surprised to find the new minister so entirely in the
secrets of his master; and that he was as well instructed in all their
doings as the emperor himself.[424] In short, the confidence of Charles,
given slowly and with much hesitation, was at length bestowed as freely
on the son as it had been on the father. The two Granvelles may be truly
said to have been the two persons who most possessed the confidence of
the emperor, from the time that he took the reins of government into his
own hands.
When raised to the see of Arras, Granvelle was but twenty-five years
old. It is rare that the mitre has descended on a man of a more
ambitious spirit. Yet Granvelle was not averse to the good things of the
world, nor altogether insensible to its pomps and vanities. He affected
great state in his manner of living, and thus necessity, no less than
taste, led him to covet the possession of wealth as well as of power. He
obtained both; and his fortunes were rapidly advancing when, by the
abdication of his royal master, the sceptre passed into the hands of
Philip the Second.
Charles recommended Granvelle to his son as every way deserving of his
confidence. Granvelle knew that the best recommendation--the only
effectual one--must come from himself. He studied carefully the
character of his new sovereign, and showed a wonderful flexibility in
conforming to his humors. The ambitious minister proved himself no
stranger to those arts by which great minds, as well as little ones,
sometimes condescend to push their fortunes in a court.
Yet, in truth, Granvelle did not always do violence to his own
inclinations in conforming to those of Philip. Like the king, he did not
come rapidly to results, but pondered long, and viewed a question in all
its bearings, before arriving at a decision. He had, as we have seen,
the same patient spirit of application as Philip, so that both may be
said to have found their best recreation in labor. Neither was he less
zealous than the king for the maintenance of the true faith, though his
accommodating nature, if left to itself, might have sanctioned a
different policy from that dictated by the stern, uncompromising spirit
of his master.
Granvelle's influence was further aided by the charms of his personal
intercourse. His polished and insinuating manners seem to have melted
even the icy reserve of Philip. He maintained his influence by his
singular tact in suggesting hints for carrying out his master's policy,
in such a way that the suggestion might seem to have come from the king
himself. Thus careful not to alarm the jealousy of his sovereign, he was
content to forego the semblance of power for the real possession of
it.[425]
It was soon seen that he was as well settled in the confidence of Philip
as he had previously been in that of Charles. Notwithstanding the
apparent distribution of power between the regent and the several
councils, the arrangements made by the king were such as to throw the
real authority into the hands of Granvelle. Thus the rare example was
afforded of the same man continuing the favorite of two successive
sovereigns. Granvelle did not escape the usual fate of favorites; and
whether from the necessity of the case, or that, as some pretend, he did
not on his elevation bear his faculties too meekly, no man was so
generally and so heartily detested throughout the country.[426]
Before leaving the Netherlands, Philip named the governors of the
several provinces,--the nominations, for the most part, only confirming
those already in office. Egmont had the governments of Flanders and
Artois; the prince of Orange, those of Holland, Zealand, Utrecht, and
West Friesland. The commission to William, running in the usual form,
noticed "the good, loyal, and notable services he had rendered both to
the emperor and his present sovereign."[427] The command of two
battalions of the Spanish army was also given to the two nobles,--a poor
contrivance for reconciling the nation to the continuance of these
detested troops in the country.
Philip had anxiously waited for the arrival of the papal bull which was
to authorize the erection of the bishoprics. Granvelle looked still more
anxiously for it. He had read the signs of the coming storm, and would
gladly have encountered it when the royal presence might have afforded
some shelter from its fury. But the court of Rome moved at its usual
dilatory pace, and the apostolic nuncio did not arrive with the missive
till the eve of Philip's departure,--too late for him to witness its
publication.[428]
[Sidenote: PHILIP'S DEPARTURE.]
Having completed all his arrangements, about the middle of August the
king proceeded to Zealand, where, in the port of Flushing, lay a gallant
fleet, waiting to take him and the royal suite to Spain. It consisted of
fifty Spanish and forty other vessels,--all well manned, and victualled
for a much longer voyage.[429] Philip was escorted to the place of
embarkation by a large body of Flemish nobles, together with the foreign
ambassadors and the duke and duchess of Savoy. A curious scene is
reported to have taken place as he was about to go on board. Turning
abruptly round to the prince of Orange, who had attended him on the
journey, he bluntly accused him of being the true source of the
opposition which his measures had encountered in the States-General.
William, astonished at the suddenness of the attack, replied that the
opposition was to be regarded, not as the act of an individual, but of
the states. "No," rejoined the incensed monarch, shaking him at the same
time violently by the wrist, "not the states, but you, you, you!"[430]
an exclamation deriving additional bitterness from the fact that the
word _you_, thus employed, in the Castilian was itself indicative of
contempt. William did not think it prudent to reply, nor did he care to
trust himself with the other Flemish lords on board the royal
squadron.[431]
The royal company being at length all on board, on the twentieth of
August, 1559, the fleet weighed anchor; and Philip, taking leave of the
duke and duchess of Savoy, and the rest of the noble train who attended
his embarkation, was soon wafted from the shores,--to which he was never
to return.
* * * * *
Luc-Jean-Joseph Vandervynckt, to whom I have repeatedly had
occasion to refer in the course of the preceding chapter, was a
Fleming,--born at Ghent in 1691. He was educated to the law, became
eminent in his profession, and at the age of thirty-eight was made
a member of the council of Flanders. He employed his leisure in
studying the historical antiquities of his own country. At the
suggestion of Coblentz, prime minister of Maria Theresa, he
compiled his work on the Troubles of the Netherlands. It was
designed for the instruction of the younger branches of the
imperial family, and six copies only of it were at first printed,
in 1765. Since the author's death, which took place in 1779, when
he had reached the great age of eighty-eight, the work has been
repeatedly published.
As Vandervynckt had the national archives thrown open to his
inspection, he had access to the most authentic sources of
information. He was a man of science and discernment, fair-minded,
and temperate in his opinions, which gives value to a book that
contains, moreover, much interesting anecdote, not elsewhere to be
found. The work, though making only four volumes, covers a large
space of historical ground,--from the marriage of Philip the Fair,
in 1495, to the peace of Westphalia, in 1648. Its literary
execution is by no means equal to its other merits. The work is
written in French; but Vandervynckt, unfortunately, while he both
wrote and spoke Flemish, and even Latin, with facility, was but
indifferently acquainted with French.