FREEDOM OF WORSHIP.
The Edicts suspended.--The Sectaries.--The Public Preachings.--Attempt
to suppress them.--Meeting at St. Trond.--Philip's Concessions.
1566.
On quitting Brussels, the confederates left there four of their number
as a sort of committee to watch over the interests of the league. The
greater part of the remainder, with Brederode at their head, took the
road to Antwerp. They were hardly established in their quarters in that
city, when the building was surrounded by thousands of the inhabitants,
eager to give their visitors a tumultuous welcome. Brederode came out on
the balcony, and, addressing the crowd, told them that he had come
there, at the hazard of his life, to rescue them from the miseries of
the Inquisition. He called on his audience to take him as their leader
in this glorious work; and as the doughty champion pledged them in a
goblet of wine which he had brought with him from the table, the mob
answered by such a general shout as was heard in the furthest corners of
the city.[756] Thus a relation was openly established between the
confederates and the people, who were to move forward together in the
great march of the revolution.
Soon after the departure of the confederates from Brussels, the regent
despatched an embassy to Madrid to acquaint the king with the recent
proceedings, and to urge his acquiescence in the reforms solicited by
the league. The envoys chosen were the baron de Montigny--who had taken
charge, it may be remembered, of a similar mission before--and the
marquis of Bergen, a nobleman of liberal principles, but who stood high
in the regard of the regent.[757] Neither of the parties showed any
alacrity to undertake a commission which was to bring them so closely in
contact with the dread monarch in his capital. Bergen found an apology
for some time in a wound from a tennis-ball, which disabled his leg; an
ominous accident, interpreted by the chroniclers of the time into an
intimation from Heaven of the disastrous issue of the mission.[758]
Montigny reached Madrid some time before his companion, on the
seventeenth of June, and met with a gracious reception from Philip, who
listened with a benignant air to the recital of the measures suggested
for the relief of the country, terminating, as usual, with an
application for a summons of the states-general, as the most effectual
remedy for the disorders. But although the envoy was admitted to more
than one audience, he obtained no more comfortable assurance, than that
the subject should receive the most serious consideration of his
majesty.[759]
[Sidenote: THE EDICTS SUSPENDED.]
Meanwhile the regent was busy in digesting the plan of compromise to
which she had alluded in her reply to the confederates. When concluded,
it was sent to the governors of the several provinces, to be laid before
their respective legislatures. Their sanction, it was hoped, would
recommend its adoption to the people at large. It was first submitted to
some of the smaller states, as Artois, Namur, and Luxemburg, as most
likely to prove subservient to the wishes of the government. It was then
laid before several of the larger states, as Brabant and Flanders, whose
determination might be influenced by the example of the others. Holland,
Zealand, Utrecht, and one or two other provinces, where the spirit of
independence was highest, were not consulted at all. Yet this politic
management did not entirely succeed; and although some few gave an
unconditional assent, most of the provinces coupled their acquiescence
with limitations that rendered it of little worth.[760]
This was not extraordinary. The scheme was one which, however large the
concessions it involved on the part of the government, fell far short of
those demanded by the people. It denounced the penalty of death on all
ministers and teachers of the reformed religion, and all who harbored
them; and while it greatly mitigated the punishment of other offenders,
its few sanguinary features led the people sneeringly to call it,
instead of "moderation," the act of "_murderation_."[761] It fared,
indeed, with this compromise of the regent, as with most other half-way
measures. It satisfied neither of the parties concerned in it. The king
thought it as much too lenient as the people thought it too severe. It
never received the royal sanction, and of course never became a law. It
would therefore hardly have deserved the time I have bestowed on it,
except as evidence of the conciliatory spirit of the regent's
administration.
In the same spirit Margaret was careful to urge the royal officers to
give a liberal interpretation to the existing edicts, and to show the
utmost discretion in their execution. These functionaries were not slow
in obeying commands, which released them from so much of the odium that
attached to their ungrateful office. The amiable temper of the
government received support from a singular fraud which took place at
this time. An instrument was prepared, purporting to have come from the
knights of the Golden Fleece, in which this body guarantied to the
confederates that no one in the Low Countries should be molested on
account of his religion until otherwise determined by the king and the
states-general. This document, which carried its spurious origin on its
face, was nevertheless eagerly caught up and circulated among the
people, ready to believe what they most desired. In vain the regent, as
soon as she heard of it, endeavored to expose the fraud. It was too
late; and the influence of this imposture combined with the tolerant
measures of the government to inspire a confidence in the community
which was soon visible in its results. Some who had gone into exile
returned to their country. Many, who had cherished the new doctrines in
secret, openly avowed them; while others who were wavering, now that
they were relieved from all fear of consequences, became fixed in their
opinions. In short, the Reformation, in some form or other, was making
rapid advances over the country.[762]
Of the three great sects who embraced it, the Lutherans, the least
numerous, were the most eminent for their rank. The Anabaptists, far
exceeding them in number, were drawn almost wholly from the humbler
classes of the people. It is singular that this sect, the most quiet and
inoffensive of all, should have been uniformly dealt with by the law
with peculiar rigor. It may, perhaps, be attributed to the bad name
which attached to them from the excesses committed by their brethren,
the famous Anabaptists of Münster. The third denomination, the
Calvinists, far out-numbered both of the other two. They were also the
most active in the spirit of proselytism. They were stimulated by
missionaries trained in the schools of Geneva; and as their doctrines
spread silently over the land, not only men of piety and learning, but
persons of the highest social position, were occasionally drawn within
the folds of the sect.
The head-quarters of the Calvinists were in Flanders, Hainault, Artois,
and the provinces contiguous to France. The border land became the
residence of French Huguenots, and of banished Flemings, who on this
outpost diligently labored in the cause of the Reformation. The press
teemed with publications,--vindications of the faith, polemical tracts,
treatises, and satires against the Church of Rome and its errors,--those
spiritual missiles, in short, which form the usual magazine for
controversial warfare. These were distributed by means of peddlers and
travelling tinkers, who carried them, in their distant wanderings, to
the humblest firesides throughout the country. There they were left to
do their work; and the ground was thus prepared for the laborers whose
advent forms an epoch in the history of the Reformation.[763]
These were the ministers or missionaries, whose public preaching soon
caused a great sensation throughout the land. They first made their
appearance in Western Flanders, before small audiences gathered together
stealthily in the gloom of the forest and in the silence of night. They
gradually emerged into the open plains, thence proceeding to the
villages, until, growing bolder with impunity, they showed themselves in
the suburbs of the great towns and cities. On these occasions, thousands
of the inhabitants, men, women, and children, in too great force for the
magistrates to resist them, poured out of the gates to hear the
preacher. In the centre of the ground a rude staging was erected, with
an awning to protect him from the weather. Immediately round the rude
pulpit was gathered the more helpless part of the congregation, the
women and children. Behind them stood the men,--those in the outer
circle usually furnished with arms,--swords, pikes, muskets,--any weapon
they could pick up for the occasion. A patrol of horse occupied the
ground beyond, to protect the assembly and prevent interruption. A
barricade of wagons and other vehicles was thrown across the avenues
that led to the place, to defend it against the assaults of the
magistrates or the military. Persons stationed along the high roads
distributed religious tracts, and invited the passengers to take part in
the services.[764]
[Sidenote: THE PUBLIC PREACHINGS.]
The preacher was frequently some converted priest or friar, accustomed
to speak in public, who, having passed the greater part of his life in
battling for the Church, now showed equal zeal in overturning it. It
might be, however, that the orator was a layman; some peasant or
artisan, who, gifted with more wit, or possibly more effrontery, than
his neighbors, felt himself called on to assume the perilous vocation of
a preacher. The discourse was in French or Flemish, whichever might be
the language spoken in the neighborhood. It was generally of the homely
texture suited both to the speaker and his audience. Yet sometimes he
descanted on the woes of the land with a pathos which drew tears from
every eye; and at others gave vent to a torrent of fiery eloquence, that
kindled the spirit of the ancient martyr in the bosoms of his hearers.
These lofty flights were too often degraded by coarse and scurrilous
invectives against the pope, the clergy, and the Inquisition,--themes,
peculiarly grateful to his audience, who testified their applause by as
noisy demonstrations as if they had been spectators in a theatre. The
service was followed by singing some portion of the Psalms in the French
version of Marot, or in a Dutch translation which had recently appeared
in Holland,[765] and which, although sufficiently rude, passed with the
simple people for a wonderful composition. After this, it was common for
those who attended to present their infants for baptism; and many
couples profited by the occasion to have the marriage ceremony performed
with the Calvinistic rites. The exercises were concluded by a collection
for the poor of their own denomination. In fine, these meetings,
notwithstanding the occasional licence of the preacher, seem to have
been conducted with a seriousness and decorum which hardly merit the
obloquy thrown on them by some of the Catholic writers.
The congregation, it is true, was made up of rather motley materials.
Some went out merely to learn what manner of doctrine it was that was
taught; others, to hear the singing, where thousands of voices blended
together in rude harmony under the canopy of heaven; others, again, with
no better motive than amusement, to laugh at the oddity--perhaps the
buffoonery--of the preacher. But far the larger portion of the audience
went with the purpose of joining in the religious exercises, and
worshipping God in their own way.[766] We may imagine what an influence
must have been exercised by these meetings, where so many were gathered
together, under a sense of common danger, to listen to the words of the
teacher, who taught them to hold all human law as light in comparison
with the higher law of conscience seated in their own bosoms. Even of
those who came to scoff, few there were, probably, who did not go away
with some food for meditation, or, it may be, the seeds of future
conversion implanted in their breasts.
The first of these public preachings--which began as early as May--took
place in the neighborhood of Ghent. Between six and seven thousand
persons were assembled. A magistrate of the city, with more valor than
discretion, mounted his horse, and, armed with sword and pistol, rode in
among the multitude, and undertook to arrest the minister. But the
people hastened to his rescue, and dealt so roughly with the unfortunate
officer, that he barely escaped with life from their hands.[767]
From Ghent the preachings extended to Ypres, Bruges, and other great
towns of Flanders,--always in the suburbs,--to Valenciennes, and to
Tournay, in the province of Hainault, where the Reformers were strong
enough to demand a place of worship within the walls. Holland was ready
for the Word. Ministers of the _new religion_, as it was called, were
sent both to that quarter and to Zealand. Gatherings of great multitudes
were held in the environs of Amsterdam, the Hague, Haarlem, and other
large towns, at which the magistrates were sometimes to be found mingled
with the rest of the burghers.
But the place where these meetings were conducted on the greatest scale
was Antwerp, a city containing then more than a hundred thousand
inhabitants, and the most important mart for commerce in the
Netherlands. It was the great resort of foreigners. Many of these were
Huguenots, who, under the pretext of trade, were much more busy with the
concerns of their religion. At the meetings without the walls, it was
not uncommon for thirteen or fourteen thousand persons to assemble.[768]
Resistance on the part of the magistrates was ineffectual. The mob got
possession of the keys of the city; and, as most of the Calvinists were
armed, they constituted a formidable force. Conscious of their strength,
they openly escorted their ministers back to town, and loudly demanded
that some place of worship should be appropriated to them within the
walls of Antwerp. The quiet burghers became alarmed. As it was known
that in the camp of the Reformers were many reckless and disorderly
persons, they feared the town might be given over to pillage. All trade
ceased. Many of the merchants secreted their effects, and some prepared
to make their escape as speedily as possible.[769]
The magistrates, in great confusion, applied to the regent, and besought
her to transfer her residence to Antwerp, where her presence might
overawe the spirit of sedition. But Margaret's council objected to her
placing herself in the hands of so factious a population; and she
answered the magistrates by inquiring what guaranty they could give her
for her personal safety. They then requested that the prince of Orange,
who held the office of _burgrave_ of Antwerp, and whose influence with
the people was unbounded, might be sent to them. Margaret hesitated as
to this; for she had now learned to regard William with distrust, as
assuming more and more an unfriendly attitude towards her brother.[770]
But she had no alternative, and she requested him to transfer his
residence to the disorderly capital, and endeavor to restore it to
tranquillity. The prince, on the other hand, disgusted with the course
of public affairs, had long wished to withdraw from any share in their
management. It was with reluctance he accepted the commission.
[Sidenote: ATTEMPT TO SUPPRESS PREACHINGS.]
As he drew near to Antwerp the people flocked out by thousands to
welcome him. It would seem as if they hailed him as their deliverer; and
every window, verandah, and roof was crowded with spectators as he rode
through the gates of the capital.[771] The people ran up and down the
streets, singing psalms, or shouting, "_Vivent les Gueux!_" while they
thronged round the prince's horse in so dense a mass that it was
scarcely possible for him to force a passage.[772] Yet these
demonstrations of his popularity were not altogether satisfactory; and
he felt no pleasure at being thus welcomed as a chief of the league,
which, as we have seen, he was far from regarding with approbation.
Waving his hand repeatedly to those around him, he called on them to
disperse, impatiently exclaiming, "Take heed what you do, or, by Heaven,
you will have reason to rue it."[773] He rode straight to the hall where
the magistrates were sitting, and took counsel with them as to the best
means of allaying the popular excitement, and of preventing the wealthy
burghers from quitting the city. During the few weeks he remained there,
the prince conducted affairs so discreetly, as to bring about a better
understanding between the authorities and the citizens. He even
prevailed on the Calvinists to lay aside their arms. He found more
difficulty in persuading them to relinquish the design of appropriating
to themselves some place of worship within the walls. It was not till
William called in the aid of the military to support him, that he
compelled them to yield.[774]
Thus the spirit of reform was rapidly advancing in every part of the
country,--even in presence of the court, under the very eye of the
regent. In Brussels the people went through the streets by night,
singing psalms, and shouting the war-cry of _Vivent les Gueux!_ The
merchants and wealthy burghers were to be seen with the insignia of the
confederates on their dress.[775] Preparations were made for a public
preaching without the walls; but the duchess at once declared, that in
that event she would make one of the company at the head of her guard,
seize the preacher, and hang him up at the gates of the city![776] This
menace had the desired effect.
During these troublous times, Margaret, however little she may have
accomplished, could not be accused of sleeping on her post. She caused
fasts to be observed, and prayers to be offered in all the churches, to
avert the wrath of Heaven from the land. She did not confine herself to
these spiritual weapons, but called on the magistrates of the towns to
do their duty, and on all good citizens to support them. She commanded
foreigners to leave Antwerp, except those only who were there for
traffic. She caused placards to be everywhere posted up, reciting the
terrible penalties of the law against heretical teachers and those who
abetted them; and she offered a reward of six hundred florins to whoever
should bring any such offender to punishment.[777] She strengthened the
garrisoned towns, and would have levied a force to overawe the
refractory; but she had not the funds to pay for it. She endeavored to
provide these by means of loans from the great clergy and the principal
towns; but with indifferent success. Most of them were already creditors
of the government, and they liked the security too little to make
further advances. In her extremity, Margaret had no resource but the one
so often tried,--that of invoking the aid of her brother. "I have no
refuge," she wrote, "but in God and your majesty. It is with anguish
and dismay I must admit that my efforts have wholly failed to prevent
the public preaching, which has spread over every quarter of the
country."[778] She bitterly complains, in another letter, that, after
"so many pressing applications, she should be thus left, without aid and
without instructions, to grope her way at random."[779] She again
beseeches Philip to make the concessions demanded, in which event the
great lords assure her of their support in restoring order.
It was the policy of the cabinet of Madrid not to commit itself. The
royal answers were brief, vague, never indicating a new measure,
generally intimating satisfaction with the conduct of the regent, and
throwing as far as possible all responsibility on her shoulders.
But besides his sister's letters, the king was careful to provide
himself with other sources of information respecting the state of the
Netherlands. From some of these the accounts he received of the conduct
of the great lords were even less favorable than hers. A letter from the
secretary, Armenteros, speaks of the difficulty he finds in fathoming
the designs of the prince of Orange,--a circumstance which he attributes
to his probable change of religion. "He relies much," says the writer,
"on the support he receives in Germany, on his numerous friends at home,
and on the general distrust entertained of the king. The prince is
making preparations in good season," he concludes, "for defending
himself against your majesty."[780]
Yet Philip did not betray any consciousness of this unfriendly temper in
the nobles. To the prince of Orange, in particular, he wrote: "You err
in imagining that I have not entire confidence in you. Should any one
seek to do you an ill office with me, I should not be so light as to
give ear to him, having had so large experience of your loyalty and your
services."[781] "This is not the time," he adds, "for men like you to
withdraw from public affairs." But William was the last man to be duped
by these fair words. When others inveighed against the conduct of the
regent, William excused her by throwing the blame on Philip. "Resolved
to deceive all," he said, "he begins by deceiving his sister."[782]
[Sidenote: MEETING AT ST. TROND.]
It was about the middle of July that an event occurred which caused
still greater confusion in the affairs of the Netherlands. This was a
meeting of the confederates at St. Trond, in the neighborhood of Liege.
They assembled, two thousand in number, with Count Louis and Brederode
at their head. Their great object was to devise some means for their
personal security. They were aware that they were held responsible, to
some extent, for the late religious movements among the people.[783]
They were discontented with the prolonged silence of the king, and they
were alarmed by rumors of military preparations, said to be designed
against them. The discussions of the assembly, long and animated, showed
some difference of opinion. All agreed to demand some guaranty from the
government for their security. But the greater part of the body, no
longer halting at the original limits of their petition, were now for
demanding absolute toleration in matters of religion. Some few of the
number, stanch Catholics at heart, who for the first time seem to have
had their eyes opened to the results to which they were inevitably
tending, now, greatly disgusted, withdrew from the league. Among these
was the younger Count Mansfeldt,--a name destined to become famous in
the annals of the revolution.
Margaret, much alarmed by these new demonstrations, sent Orange and
Egmont to confer with the confederates, and demand why they were thus
met in an unfriendly attitude towards the government which they had so
lately pledged themselves to support in maintaining order. The
confederates replied by sending a deputation of their body to submit
their grievances anew to the regent.
The deputies, twelve in number, and profanely nicknamed at Brussels "the
twelve apostles,"[784] presented themselves, with Count Louis at their
head, on the twenty-eighth of July, at the capital. Margaret, who with
difficulty consented to receive them in person, gave unequivocal signs
of her displeasure. In the plain language of Louis, "the regent was
ready to burst with anger."[785] The memorial, or rather remonstrance,
presented to her was not calculated to allay it.
Without going into details, it is only necessary to say, that the
confederates, after stating their grounds for apprehension, requested
that an assurance should be given by the government that no harm was
intended them. As to pardon for the past, they disclaimed all desire for
it. What they had done called for applause, not condemnation. They only
trusted that his majesty would be pleased to grant a convocation of the
states-general, to settle the affairs of the country. In the mean time,
they besought him to allow the concerns of the confederates to be placed
in the hands of the prince of Orange, and the Counts Egmont and Hoorne,
to act as their mediators with the crown, promising in all things to be
guided by their counsel. Thus would tranquillity be restored. But
without some guaranty for their safety, they should be obliged to
protect themselves by foreign aid.[786]
The haughty tone of this memorial forms a striking contrast with that of
the petition presented by the same body not four months before, and
shows with what rapid strides the revolution had advanced. The religious
agitations had revealed the amount of discontent in the country, and to
what extent, therefore, the confederates might rely on the sympathy of
the people. This was most unequivocally proved during the meeting of St.
Trond, where memorials were presented by the merchants, and by persons
of the Reformed religion, praying the protection of the league to secure
them freedom of worship, till otherwise determined by the
states-general. This extraordinary request was granted.[787] Thus the
two great parties leaned on each other for support, and gave mutual
confidence to their respective movements. The confederates, discarding
the idea of grace, which they had once solicited, now darkly intimated a
possible appeal to arms. The Reformers, on their side, instead of the
mitigation of penalties, now talked of nothing less than absolute
toleration. Thus political Revolution and religious Reform went hand in
hand together. The nobles and the commons, the two most opposite
elements of the body politic, were united closely by a common interest;
and a formidable opposition was organized to the designs of the monarch,
which might have made any monarch tremble on his throne.
An important fact shows that the confederates coolly looked forward,
even at this time, to a conflict with Spain. Louis of Nassau had a large
correspondence with the leaders of the Huguenots in France, and of the
Lutherans in Germany. By the former he had been offered substantial aid
in the way of troops. But the national jealousy entertained of the
French would have made it impolitic to accept it. He turned therefore to
Germany, where he had numerous connections, and where he subsidized a
force consisting of four thousand horse and forty companies of foot, to
be at the disposal of the league. This negotiation was conducted under
the eye, and, as it seems, partly through the agency, of his brother
William.[788] From this moment, therefore, if not before, the prince of
Orange may be identified with the party who were prepared to maintain
their rights by an appeal to arms.
[Sidenote: MEETING AT ST. TROND.]
These movements of the league could not be kept so close but that they
came to the knowledge of Margaret. Indeed, she had her secret agents at
St. Trond, who put her in possession of whatever was done, or even
designed, by the confederates.[789] This was fully exhibited in her
correspondence with Philip, while she again called his attention to the
forlorn condition of the government, without men, or money, or the means
to raise it.[790] "The sectaries go armed," she writes, "and are
organizing their forces. The league is with them. There remains nothing
but that they should band together, and sack the towns, villages, and
churches, of which I am in marvellous great fear."[791]--Her fears had
gifted her with the spirit of prophecy. She implores her brother, if he
will not come himself to Flanders, to convoke the states-general,
quoting the words of Egmont, that, unless summoned by the king they
would assemble of themselves, to devise some remedy for the miseries of
the land, and prevent its otherwise inevitable ruin.[792] At length came
back the royal answer to Margaret's reiterated appeals. It had at least
one merit, that of being perfectly explicit.
Montigny, on reaching Madrid, as we have seen, had ready access to
Philip. Both he and his companion, the marquis of Bergen, were allowed
to witness, it would seem, the deliberations of the council of state,
when the subject of their mission was discussed. Among the members of
that body, at this time, may be noticed the duke of Alva; Ruy Gomez de
Silva, prince of Eboli, who divided with Alva the royal favor; Figueroa,
count of Feria, a man of an acute and penetrating intellect, formerly
ambassador to England, in Queen Mary's time; and Luis de Quixada, the
major-domo of Charles the fifth. Besides these there were two or three
councillors from the Netherlands, among whose names we meet with that of
Hopper, the near friend and associate of Viglius. There was great
unanimity in the opinions of this loyal body, where none, it will be
readily believed, was disposed to lift his voice in favour of reform.
The course of events in the Netherlands, they agreed, plainly showed a
deliberate and well-concerted scheme of the great nobles to secure to
themselves the whole power of the country. The first step was the
removal of Granvelle, a formidable obstacle in their path. Then came the
attempt to concentrate the management of affairs in the hands of the
council of state. This was followed by assaults on the Inquisition and
the edicts, as the things most obnoxious to the people; by the cry in
favor of the states-general; by the league, the Compromise, the
petitions, the religious assemblies; and, finally, by the present
mission to Spain. All was devised by the great nobles, as part of a
regular system of hostility to the crown, the real object of which was
to overturn existing institutions, and to build up their own authority
on the ruins. While the council regarded these proceedings with the
deepest indignation, they admitted the necessity of bending to the
storm, and under present circumstances judged it prudent for the monarch
to make certain specified concessions to the people of the Netherlands.
Above all, they earnestly besought Philip, if he would still remain
master of this portion of his empire, to defer no longer his visit to
the country.[793]
The discussions occupied many and long-protracted sittings of the
council; and Philip deeply pondered, in his own closet, on the results,
after the discussions were concluded. Even those most familiar with his
habits were amazed at the long delay of his decision in the present
critical circumstances.[794] The haughty mind of the monarch found it
difficult to bend to the required concessions. At length his answer
came.
The letter containing it was addressed to his sister, and was dated on
the thirty-first of July, 1566, at the Wood of Segovia,--the same place
from which he had dictated his memorable despatches the year preceding.
Philip began, as usual, with expressing his surprise at the continued
troubles of the country. He was not aware that any rigorous procedure
could be charged on the tribunals, or that any change had been made in
the laws since the days of Charles the Fifth. Still, as it was much more
agreeable to his nature to proceed with clemency and love than with
severity,[795] he would conform as far as possible to the desires of his
vassals.
He was content that the Inquisition should be abolished in the
Netherlands, and in its place be substituted the inquisitorial powers
vested in the bishops. As to the edicts, he was not pleased with the
plan of Moderation devised by Margaret; nor did he believe that any plan
would satisfy the people short of perfect toleration. Still, he would
have his sister prepare another scheme, having due reference to the
maintenance of the Catholic faith and his own authority. This must be
submitted to him, and he would do all that he possibly could in the
matter.[796] Lastly, in respect to a general pardon, as he abhorred
rigor where any other course would answer the end,[797] he was content
that it should be extended to whomever Margaret thought deserving of
it,--always excepting those already condemned, and under a solemn
pledge, moreover, that the nobles would abandon the league, and
henceforth give their hearty support to the government.
Four days after the date of these despatches, on the second of August,
Philip again wrote to his sister, touching the summoning of the
states-general, which she had so much pressed. He had given the subject,
he said, a most patient consideration, and was satisfied that she had
done right in refusing to call them together. She must not consent to
it. He never would consent to it.[798] He knew too well to what it must
inevitably lead. Yet he would not have her report his decision in the
absolute and peremptory terms in which he had given it to her, but as
intended merely for the present occasion; so that the people might
believe she was still looking for something of a different tenor, and
cherish the hope of obtaining their object at some future day![799]
The king also wrote, that he should remit a sufficient sum to Margaret
to enable her to take into her pay a body of ten thousand German foot
and three thousand horse, on which she could rely in case of extremity.
He further wrote letters with his own hand to the governors of the
provinces and the principal cities, calling on them to support the
regent in her efforts to enforce the laws and maintain order throughout
the country.[800]
Such were the concessions granted by Philip, at the eleventh hour, to
his subjects of the Netherlands!--concessions wrung from him by hard
necessity; doled out, as it were, like the scanty charity of the
miser,--too scanty and too late to serve the object for which it is
intended. But slight as these concessions were, and crippled by
conditions which rendered them nearly nugatory, it will hardly be
believed that he was not even sincere in making them! This is proved by
a revelation lately made of a curious document in the Archives of
Simancas.
[Sidenote: PHILIP'S CONCESSIONS.]
While the ink was scarcely dry on the despatches to Margaret, Philip
summoned a notary into his presence, and before the duke of Alva and
two other persons, jurists, solemnly protested that the authority he had
given to the regent in respect to a general pardon was not of his own
free will. "He therefore did not feel bound by it, but reserved to
himself the right to punish the guilty, and especially the authors and
abettors of sedition in the Low Countries."[801] We feel ourselves at
once transported into the depths of the Middle Ages. This feeling will
not be changed when we learn the rest of the story of this admirable
piece of kingcraft.
The chair of St. Peter, at this time, was occupied by Pius the Fifth, a
pope who had assumed the same name as his predecessor, and who displayed
a spirit of fierce, indeed frantic intolerance, surpassing even that of
Paul the Fourth. At the accession of the new pope there were three
Italian scholars, inhabitants of Milan, Venice, and Tuscany, eminent for
their piety, who had done great service to the cause of letters in
Italy, but who were suspected of too liberal opinions in matters of
faith. Pius the Fifth demanded that these scholars should all be
delivered into his hands. The three states had the meanness to comply.
The unfortunate men were delivered up to the Holy Office, condemned, and
burned at the stake. This was one of the first acts of the new
pontificate. It proclaimed to Christendom that Pius the Fifth was the
uncompromising foe of heresy, the pope of the Inquisition. Every
subsequent act of his reign served to confirm his claim to this
distinction.
Yet, as far as the interests of Catholicism were concerned, a character
like that of Pius the Fifth must be allowed to have suited the times.
During the latter part of the fifteenth century and the beginning of the
sixteenth, the throne had been filled by a succession of pontiffs
notorious for their religious indifference, and their carelessness, too
often profligacy, of life. This, as is well known, was one of the
prominent causes of the Reformation. A reaction followed. It was
necessary to save the Church. A race of men succeeded, of ascetic
temper, remarkable for their austere virtues, but without a touch of
sympathy for the joys or sorrows of their species, and wholly devoted to
the great work of regenerating the fallen Church. As the influence of
the former popes had opened a career to the Reformation, the influence
of these latter popes tended materially to check it; and long before the
close of the sixteenth century the boundary line was defined, which it
has never since been allowed to pass.
Pius, as may be imagined, beheld with deep anxiety the spread of the new
religion in the Low Countries. He wrote to the duchess of Parma,
exhorting her to resist to the utmost, and professing his readiness to
supply her, if need were, with both men and money. To Philip he also
wrote, conjuring him not to falter in the good cause, and to allow no
harm to the Catholic faith, but to march against his rebellious vassals
at the head of his army, and wash out the stain of heresy in the blood
of the heretic.[802]
The king now felt it incumbent on him to explain to the holy father his
late proceedings. This he did through Requesens, his ambassador at the
papal court. The minister was to inform his holiness that Philip would
not have moved in this matter without his advice, had there been time
for it. But perhaps it was better as it was; for the abolition of the
Inquisition in the Low Countries could not take effect, after all,
unless sanctioned by the pope, by whose authority it had been
established. This, however, was _to be said in confidence_.[803] As to
the edicts, Pius might be assured that his majesty would never approve
of any scheme which favored the guilty by diminishing in any degree the
penalties of their crimes. This also _was to be considered as
secret_.[804] Lastly, his holiness need not be scandalized by the grant
of a general pardon, since it referred only to what concerned the king
personally, where he had a right to grant it. In fine, the pope might
rest assured that the king would consent to nothing that could prejudice
the service of God or the interests of religion. He deprecated force, as
that would involve the ruin of the country. Still, he would march in
person, without regard to his own peril, and employ force, though it
should cost the ruin of the provinces, but he would bring his vassals to
submission. For he would sooner lose a hundred lives, and every rood of
empire, than reign a lord over heretics.[805]
[Sidenote: CATHEDRAL OF ANTWERP SACKED.]
Thus all the concessions of Philip, not merely his promises of grace,
but those of abolishing the Inquisition and mitigating the edicts, were
to go for nothing,--mere words, to amuse the people until some effectual
means could be decided on. The king must be allowed, for once at least,
to have spoken with candor. There are few persons who would not have
shrunk from acknowledging to their own hearts that they were acting on
so deliberate a system of perfidy as Philip thus confided in his
correspondence with another. Indeed, he seems to have regarded the pope
in the light of his confessor, to whom he was to unburden his bosom as
frankly as if he had been in the confessional. The shrift was not likely
to bring down a heavy penance from one who doubtless held to the
orthodox maxim of "No faith to be kept with heretics."
The result of these royal concessions was what might have been expected.
Crippled as they were by conditions, they were regarded in the Low
Countries with distrust, not to say contempt. In fact, the point at
which Philip had so slowly and painfully arrived had been long since
passed in the onward march of the revolution. The men of the Netherlands
now talked much more of recompense than of pardon. By a curious
coincidence, the thirty-first of July, the day on which the king wrote
his last despatches from Segovia, was precisely the date of those which
Margaret sent to him from Brussels, giving the particulars of the recent
troubles, of the meeting at St. Trond, the demand for a guaranty, and
for an immediate summons of the legislature.
But the fountain of royal grace had been completely drained by the late
efforts. Philip's reply at this time was prompt and to the point. As to
the guaranty, he said, that was superfluous when he had granted a
general pardon. For the states-general, there was no need to alter his
decision now, since he was so soon to be present in the country.[806]
This visit of the king to the Low Countries, respecting which so much
was said and so little was done, seems to have furnished some amusement
to the wits of the court. The prince of Asturias, Don Carlos, scribbled
one day on the cover of a blank book, as its title, "The Great and
Admirable Voyages of King Philip;" and within, for the contents, he
wrote, "From Madrid to the Pardo, from the Pardo to the Escorial, from
the Escorial to Aranjuez," &c., &c.[807] This jest of the graceless son
had an edge to it. We are not told how far it was relished by his royal
father.