not spare him even in the moment of resignation. People did not scruple
to assert that a short time before he laid down his office he had
expressed a wish to be reconciled to the Prince of Orange and Count
Egmont, and even offered, if their forgiveness could be hoped for on no
other terms, to ask pardon of them on his knees. It was base and
contemptible to sully the memory of a great and extraordinary man with
such a charge, but it is still more so to hand it down uncontradicted to
posterity. Granvella submitted to the royal command with a dignified
composure. Already had he written, a few months previously, to the Duke
of Alva in Spain, to prepare him a place of refuge in Madrid, in case of
his having to quit the Netherlands. The latter long bethought himself
whether it was advisable to bring thither so dangerous a rival for the
favor of his king, or to deny so important a friend such a valuable
means of indulging his old hatred of the Flemish nobles. Revenge
prevailed over fear, and he strenuously supported Granvella’s request
with the monarch. But his intercession was fruitless. Armenteros had
persuaded the king that the minister’s residence in Madrid would only
revive, with increased violence, all the complaints of the Belgian
nation, to which his ministry had been sacrificed; for then, he said, he
would be suspected of poisoning the very source of that power, whose
outlets only he had hitherto been charged with corrupting. He therefore
sent him to Burgundy, his native place, for which a decent pretext
fortunately presented itself. The cardinal gave to his departure from
Brussels the appearance of an unimportant journey, from which he would
return in a few days. At the same time, however, all the state
counsellors, who, under his administration, had voluntarily excluded
themselves from its sittings, received a command from the court to
resume their seats in the senate at Brussels. Although the latter
circumstance made his return not very credible, nevertheless the
remotest possibility of it sobered the triumph which celebrated his
departure. The regent herself appears to have been undecided what to
think about the report; for, in a fresh letter to the king, she repeated
all the representations and arguments which ought to restrain him from
restoring this minister. Granvella himself, in his correspondence with
Barlaimont and Viglius, endeavored to keep alive this rumor, and at
least to alarm with fears, however unsubstantial, the enemies whom he
could no longer punish by his presence. Indeed, the dread of the
influence of this extraordinary man was so exceedingly great that, to
appease it, he was at last driven even from his home and his country.
After the death of Pius IV., Granvella went to Rome, to be present at
the election of a new pope, and at the same time to discharge some
commissions of his master, whose confidence in him remained unshaken.
Soon after, Philip made him viceroy of Naples, where he succumbed to the
seductions of the climate, and the spirit which no vicissitudes could
bend voluptuousness overcame. He was sixty-two years old when the king
allowed him to revisit Spain, where he continued with unlimited powers
to administer the affairs of Italy. A gloomy old age, and the
self-satisfied pride of a sexagenarian administration made him a harsh
and rigid judge of the opinions of others, a slave of custom, and a
tedious panegyrist of past times. But the policy of the closing century
had ceased to be the policy of the opening one. A new and younger
ministry were soon weary of so imperious a superintendent, and Philip
himself began to shun the aged counsellor, who found nothing worthy of
praise but the deeds of his father. Nevertheless, when the conquest of
Portugal called Philip to Lisbon, he confided to the cardinal the care of
his Spanish territories. Finally, on an Italian tour, in the town of
Mantua, in the seventy-third year of his life, Granvella terminated his
long existence in the full enjoyment of his glory, and after possessing
for forty years the uninterrupted confidence of his king.
(1564.) Immediately upon the departure of the minister, all the happy
results which were promised from his withdrawal were fulfilled. The
disaffected nobles resumed their seats in the council, and again devoted
themselves to the affairs of the state with redoubled zeal, in order to
give no room for regret for him whom they had driven away, and to prove,
by the fortunate administration of the state, that his services were not
indispensable. The crowd round the duchess was great. All vied with
one another in readiness, in submission, and zeal in her service; the
hours of night were not allowed to stop the transaction of pressing
business of state; the greatest unanimity existed between the three
councils, the best understanding between the court and the states. From
the obliging temper of the Flemish nobility everything was to be had, as
soon as their pride and self-will was flattered by confidence and
obliging treatment. The regent took advantage of the first joy of the
nation to beguile them into a vote of certain taxes, which, under the
preceding administration, she could not have hoped to extort. In this,
the great credit of the nobility effectually supported her, and she soon
learned from this nation the secret, which had been so often verified in
the German diet--that much must be demanded in order to get a little.
With pleasure did the regent see herself emancipated from her long
thraldom; the emulous industry of the nobility lightened for her the
burden of business, and their insinuating humility allowed her to feel
the full sweetness of power.
(1564). Granvella had been overthrown, but his party still remained.
His policy lived in his creatures, whom he left behind him in the privy
council and in the chamber of finance. Hatred still smouldered amongst
the factious long after the leader was banished, and the names of the
Orange and Royalist parties, of the Patriots and Cardinalists still
continued to divide the senate and to keep up the flames of discord.
Viglius Van Zuichem Van Aytta, president of the privy council, state
counsellor and keeper of the seal, was now looked upon as the most
important person in the senate, and the most powerful prop of the crown
and the tiara. This highly meritorious old man, whom we have to thank
for some valuable contributions towards the history of the rebellion of
the Low Countries, and whose confidential correspondence with his
friends has generally been the guide of our narrative, was one of the
greatest lawyers of his time, as well as a theologian and priest, and
had already, under the Emperor, filled the most important offices.
Familiar intercourse with the learned men who adorned the age, and at
the head of whom stood Erasmus of Rotterdam, combined with frequent
travels in the imperial service, had extended the sphere of his
information and experience, and in many points raised him in his
principles and opinions above his contemporaries. The fame of his
erudition filled the whole century in which he lived, and has handed his
name down to posterity. When, in the year 1548, the connection of the
Netherlands with the German empire was to be settled at the Diet of
Augsburg, Charles V. sent hither this statesman to manage the interests
of the provinces; and his ability principally succeeded in turning the
negotiations to the advantage of the Netherlands. After the death of
the Emperor, Viglius was one of the many eminent ministers bequeathed to
Philip by his father, and one of the few in whom he honored his memory.
The fortune of the minister, Granvella, with whom he was united by the
ties of an early acquaintance, raised him likewise to greatness; but he
did not share the fall of his patron, because he had not participated in
his lust of power; nor, consequently, the hatred which attached to him.
A residence of twenty years in the provinces, where the most important
affairs were entrusted to him, approved loyalty to his king, and zealous
attachment to the Roman Catholic tenets, made him one of the most
distinguished instruments of royalty in the Netherlands.
Viglius was a man of learning, but no thinker; an experienced statesman,
but without an enlightened mind; of an intellect not sufficiently
powerful to break, like his friend Erasmus, the fetters of error, yet
not sufficiently bad to employ it, like his predecessor, Granvella, in
the service of his own passions. Too weak and timid to follow boldly
the guidance of his reason, he preferred trusting to the more convenient
path of conscience; a thing was just so soon as it became his duty; he
belonged to those honest men who are indispensable to bad ones; fraud
reckoned on his honesty. Half a century later he would have received
his immortality from the freedom which he now helped to subvert.
In the privy council at Brussels he was the servant of tyranny; in the
parliament in London, or in the senate at Amsterdam, he would have died,
perhaps, like Thomas More or Olden Barneveldt.
In the Count Barlaimont, the president of the council of finance,
the opposition had a no less formidable antagonist than in Viglius.
Historians have transmitted but little information regarding the
services and the opinions of this man. In the first part of his career
the dazzling greatness of Cardinal Granvella seems to have cast a shade
over him; after the latter had disappeared from the stage the
superiority of the opposite party kept him down, but still the little
that we do find respecting him throws a favorable light over his
character. More than once the Prince of Orange exerted himself to
detach him from the interests of the cardinal, and to join him to his
own party--sufficient proof that he placed a value on the prize. All
his efforts failed, which shows that he had to do with no vacillating
character. More than once we see him alone, of all the members of the
council, stepping forward to oppose the dominant faction, and protecting
against universal opposition the interests of the crown, which were in
momentary peril of being sacrificed. When the Prince of Orange had
assembled the knights of the Golden Fleece in his own palace, with a
view to induce them to come to a preparatory resolution for the
abolition of the Inquisition, Barlaimont was the first to denounce the
illegality of this proceeding and to inform the regent of it. Some time
after the prince asked him if the regent knew of that assembly, and
Barlaitnont hesitated not a moment to avow to him the truth. All the
steps which have been ascribed to him bespeak a man whom neither
influence nor fear could tempt, who, with a firm courage and indomitable
constancy, remained faithful to the party which he had once chosen, but
who, it must at the same time be confessed, entertained too proud and
too despotic notions to have selected any other.
Amongst the adherents of the royal party at Brussels, we have, further,
the names of the Duke of Arschot, the Counts of Mansfeld, Megen, and
Aremberg--all three native Netherlanders; and therefore, as it appeared,
bound equally with the whole Netherlandish nobility to oppose the
hierarchy and the royal power in their native country. So much the more
surprised must we feel at their contrary behavior, and which is indeed
the more remarkable, since we find them on terms of friendship with the
most eminent members of the faction, and anything but insensible to the
common grievances of their country.
But they had not self-confidence or heroism enough to venture on an
unequal contest with so superior an antagonist. With a cowardly
prudence they made their just discontent submit to the stern law of
necessity, and imposed a hard sacrifice on their pride because their
pampered vanity was capable of nothing better. Too thrifty and too
discreet to wish to extort from the justice or the fear of their
sovereign the certain good which they already possessed from his
voluntary generosity, or to resign a real happiness in order to preserve
the shadow of another, they rather employed the propitious moment to
drive a traffic with their constancy, which, from the general defection
of the nobility, had now risen in value. Caring little for true glory,
they allowed their ambition to decide which party they should take; for
the ambition of base minds prefers to bow beneath the hard yoke of
compulsion rather than submit to the gentle sway of a superior
intellect. Small would have been the value of the favor conferred had
they bestowed themselves on the Prince of Orange; but their connection
with royalty made them so much the more formidable as opponents. There
their names would have been lost among his numerous adherents and in the
splendor of their rival. On the almost deserted side of the court their
insignificant merit acquired lustre.
The families of Nassau and Croi (to the latter belonged the Duke of
Arschot) had for several reigns been competitors for influence and
honor, and their rivalry had kept up an old feud between their families,
which religious differences finally made irreconcilable. The house of
Croi from time immemorial had been renowned for its devout and strict
observance of papistic rites and ceremonies; the Counts of Nassau had
gone over to the new sect--sufficient reasons why Philip of Croi, Duke
of Arschot, should prefer a party which placed him the most decidedly in
opposition to the Prince of Orange. The court did not fail to take
advantage of this private feud, and to oppose so important an enemy to
the increasing influence of the house of Nassau in the republic. The
Counts Mansfeld and Megen had till lately been the confidential friends
of Count Egmont. In common with him they had raised their voice against
the minister, had joined him in resisting the Inquisition and the
edicts, and had hitherto held with him as far as honor and duty would
permit. But at these limits the three friends now separated. Egmont’s
unsuspecting virtue incessantly hurried him forwards on the road to
ruin; Mansfeld and Megen, admonished of the danger, began in good time
to think of a safe retreat. There still exist letters which were
interchanged between the Counts Egmont and Mansfeld, and which, although
written at a later period, give us a true picture of their former
friendship. “If,” replied Count Mansfeld to his friend, who in an
amicable manner had reproved him for his defection to the king, “if
formerly I was of opinion that the general good made the abolition of
the Inquisition, the mitigation of the edicts, and the removal of the
Cardinal Granvella necessary, the king has now acquiesced in this wish
and removed the cause of complaint. We have already done too much
against the majesty of the sovereign and the authority of the church; it
is high time for us to turn, if we would wish to meet the king, when he
comes, with open brow and without anxiety. As regards my own person, I
do not dread his vengeance; with confident courage I would at his first
summons present myself in Spain, and boldly abide my sentence from his
justice and goodness. I do not say this as if I doubted whether Count
Egmont can assert the same, but he will act prudently in looking more
to his own safety, and in removing suspicion from his actions. If I
hear,” he says, in conclusion, “that he has allowed my admonitions to
have their due weight, our friendship continues; if not, I feel myself
in that case strong enough to sacrifice all human ties to my duty and to
honor.”
The enlarged power of the nobility exposed the republic to almost a
greater evil than that which it had just escaped by the removal of the
minister. Impoverished by long habits of luxury, which at the same time
had relaxed their morals, and to which they were now too much addicted
to be able to renounce them, they yielded to the perilous opportunity of
indulging their ruling inclination, and of again repairing the expiring
lustre of their fortunes. Extravagance brought on the thirst for gain,
and this introduced bribery. Secular and ecclesiastical offices were
publicly put up to sale; posts of honor, privileges, and patents were
sold to the highest bidder; even justice was made a trade. Whom the
privy council had condemned was acquitted by the council of state, and
what the former refused to grant was to be purchased from the latter.
The council of state, indeed, subsequently retorted the charge on the
two other councils, but it forgot that it was its own example that
corrupted them. The shrewdness of rapacity opened new sources of gain.
Life, liberty, and religion were insured for a certain sum, like landed
estates; for gold, murderers and malefactors were free, and the nation
was plundered by a lottery. The servants and creatures of the state,
counsellors and governors of provinces, were, without regard to rank or
merit, pushed into the most important posts; whoever had a petition to
present at court had to make his way through the governors of provinces
and their inferior servants. No artifice of seduction was spared to
implicate in these excesses the private secretary of the duchess, Thomas
Armenteros, a man up to this time of irreproachable character. By
pretended professions of attachment and friendship a successful attempt
was made to gain his confidence, and by luxurious entertainments to
undermine his principles; the seductive example infected his morals, and
new wants overcame his hitherto incorruptible integrity. He was now
blind to abuses in which he was an accomplice, and drew a veil over the
crimes of others in order at the same time to cloak his own. With his
knowledge the royal exchequer was robbed, and the objects of the
government were defeated through a corrupt administration of its
revenues. Meanwhile the regent wandered on in a fond dream of power and
activity, which the flattery of the nobles artfully knew how to foster.
The ambition of the factious played with the foibles of a woman, and
with empty signs and an humble show of submission purchased real power
from her. She soon belonged entirely to the faction, and had
imperceptibly changed her principles. Diametrically opposing all her
former proceedings, even in direct violation of her duty, she now
brought before the council of state, which was swayed by the faction,
not only questions which belonged to the other councils, but also the
suggestions which Viglius had made to her in private, in the same way as
formerly, under Granvella’s administration, she had improperly neglected
to consult it at all. Nearly all business and all influence were now
diverted to the governors of provinces. All petitions were directed to
them, by them all lucrative appointments were bestowed. Their
usurpations were indeed carried so far that law proceedings were
withdrawn from the municipal authorities of the towns and brought before
their own tribunals. The respectability of the provincial courts
decreased as theirs extended, and with the respectability of the
municipal functionaries the administration of justice and civil order
declined. The smaller courts soon followed the example of the
government of the country. The spirit which ruled the council of state
at Brussels soon diffused itself through the provinces. Bribery,
indulgences, robbery, venality of justice, were universal in the courts
of judicature of the country; morals degenerated, and the new sects
availed themselves of this all-pervading licentiousness to propagate
their opinions. The religious indifference or toleration of the nobles,
who, either themselves inclined to the side of the innovators, or, at
least, detested the Inquisition as an instrument of despotism, had
mitigated the rigor of the religious edicts, and through the letters of
indemnity, which were bestowed on many Protestants, the holy office was
deprived of its best victims. In no way could the nobility more
agreeably announce to the nation its present share in the government of
the country than by sacrificing to it the hated tribunal of the
Inquisition--and to this inclination impelled them still more than the
dictates of policy. The nation passed in a moment from the most
oppressive constraint of intolerance into a state of freedom, to which,
however, it had already become too unaccustomed to support it with
moderation. The inquisitors, deprived of the support of the municipal
authorities, found themselves an object of derision rather than of fear.
In Bruges the town council caused even some of their own servants to be
placed in confinement, and kept on bread and water, for attempting to
lay hands upon a supposed heretic. About this very time the mob in
Antwerp, having made a futile, attempt to rescue a person charged with
heresy from the holy office, there was placarded in the public
market-place an inscription, written in blood, to the effect that a
number of persons had bound themselves by oath to avenge the death of
that innocent person.
From the corruption which pervaded the whole council of state, the privy
council, and the chamber of finance, in which Viglius and Barlaimont
were presidents, had as yet, for the most part, kept themselves pure.
As the faction could not succeed in insinuating their adherents into
those two councils the only course open to them was, if possible, to
render both inefficient, and to transfer their business to the council
of state. To carry out this design the Prince of Orange sought to
secure the co-operation of the other state counsellors. “They were
called, indeed, senators,” he frequently declared to his adherents, “but
others possessed the power. If gold was wanted to pay the troops, or
when the question was how the spreading heresy was to be repressed, or
the people kept in order, then they were consulted; although in fact
they were the guardians neither of the treasury nor of the laws, but
only the organs through which the other two councils operated on the
state. And yet alone they were equal to the whole administration of the
country, which had been uselessly portioned out amongst three separate
chambers. If they would among themselves only agree to reunite to the
council of state these two important branches of government, which had
been dissevered from it, one soul might animate the whole body.” A plan
was preliminarily and secretly agreed on, in accordance with which
twelve new Knights of the Fleece were to be added to the council of
state, the administration of justice restored to the tribunal at
Malines, to which it originally belonged, the granting of letters of
grace, patents, and so forth, assigned to the president, Viglius, while
the management of the finances should be committed to it. All the
difficulties, indeed, which the distrust of the court and its jealousy
of the increasing power of the nobility would oppose to this innovation
were foreseen and provided against. In order to constrain the regent’s
assent, some of the principal officers of the army were put forward as a
cloak, who were to annoy the court at Brussels with boisterous demands
for their arrears of pay, and in case of refusal to threaten a
rebellion. It was also contrived to have the regent assailed with
numerous petitions and memorials complaining of the delays of justice,
and exaggerating the danger which was to be apprehended from the daily
growth of heresy. Nothing was omitted to darken the picture of the
disorganized state of society, of the abuse of justice, and of the
deficiency in the finances, which was made so alarming that she awoke
with terror from the delusion of prosperity in which she had hitherto
cradled herself. She called the three councils together to consult them
on the means by which these disorders were to be remedied. The majority
was in favor of sending an extraordinary ambassador to Spain, who by a
circumstantial and vivid delineation should make the king acquainted
with the true position of affairs, and if possible prevail on him to
adopt efficient measures of reform. This proposition was opposed by
Viglius, who, however, had not the slighest suspicion of the secret
designs of the faction. “The evil complained of,” he said, “is
undoubtedly great, and one which can no longer be neglected with
impunity, but it is not irremediable by ourselves. The administration
of justice is certainly crippled, but the blame of this lies with the
nobles themselves; by their contemptuous treatment they have thrown
discredit on the municipal authorities, who, moreover, are very
inadequately supported by the governors of provinces. If heresy is on
the increase it is because the secular arm has deserted the spiritual
judges, and because the lower orders, following the example of the
nobles, have thrown off all respect for those in authority. The
provinces are undoubtedly oppressed by a heavy debt, but it has not been
accumulated, as alleged, by any malversation of the revenues, but by the
expenses of former wars and the king’s present exigences; still wise and
prudent measures of finance might in a short time remove the burden. If
the council of state would not be so profuse of its indulgences, its
charters of immunity, and its exemptions; if it would commence the
reformation of morals with itself, show greater respect to the laws, and
do what lies in its power to restore to the municipal functionaries
their former consideration; in short, if the councils and the governors
of provinces would only fulfil their own duties the present grounds of
complaint would soon be removed. Why, then, send an ambassador to
Spain, when as yet nothing has occurred to justify so extraordinary an
expedient? If, however, the council thinks otherwise, he would not
oppose the general voice; only he must make it a condition of his
concurrence that the principal instruction of the envoy should be to
entreat the king to make them a speedy visit.”
There was but one voice as to the choice of an envoy. Of all the
Flemish nobles Count Egmont was the only one whose appointment would
give equal satisfaction to both parties. His hatred of the Inquisition,
his patriotic and liberal sentiments, and the unblemished integrity of
his character, gave to the republic sufficient surety for his conduct,
while for the reasons already mentioned he could not fail to be welcome
to the king. Moreover, Egmont’s personal figure and demeanor were
calculated on his first appearance to make that favorable impression
which goes co far towards winning the hearts of princes; and his
engaging carriage would come to the aid of his eloquence, and enforce
his petition with those persuasive arts which are indispensable to the
success of even the most trifling suits to royalty. Egmont himself,
too, wished for the embassy, as it would afford him the opportunity of
adjusting, personally, matters with his sovereign.
About this time the Council, or rather synod, of Trent closed its
sittings, and published its decrees to the whole of Christendom. But
these canons, far from accomplishing the object for which the synod was
originally convened, and satisfying the expectation of religious
parties, had rather widened the breach between them, and made the schism
irremediable and eternal.
The labors of the synod instead of purifying the Romish Church from its
corruptions had only reduced the latter to greater definiteness and
precision, and invested them with the sanction of authority. All the
subtilties of its teaching, all the arts and usurpations of the Roman
See, which had hitherto rested more on arbitrary usage, were now passed
into laws and raised into a system. The uses and abuses which during
the barbarous times of ignorance and superstition had crept into
Christianity were now declared essential parts of its worship, and
anathemas were denounced upon all who should dare to contradict the
dogmas or neglect the observances of the Romish communion. All were
anathematized who should either presume to doubt the miraculous power of
relics, and refuse to honor the bones of martyrs, or should be so bold
as to doubt the availing efficacy of the intercession of saints. The
power of granting indulgences, the first source of the defection from
the See of Rome, was now propounded in an irrefragable article of faith;
and the principle of monasticism sanctioned by an express decree of the
synod, which allowed males to take the vows at sixteen and females at
twelve. And while all the opinions of the Protestants were, without
exception, condemned, no indulgence was shown to their errors or
weaknesses, nor a single step taken to win them back by mildness to the
bosom of the mother church. Amongst the Protestants the wearisome
records of the subtle deliberations of the synod, and the absurdity of
its decisions, increased, if possible, the hearty contempt which they
had long entertained for popery, and laid open to their
controversialists new and hitherto unnoticed points of attack. It was
an ill-judged step to bring the mysteries of the church too close to the
glaring torch of reason, and to fight with syllogisms for the tenets of
a blind belief.
Moreover, the decrees of the Council of Trent were not satisfactory even
to all the powers in communion with Rome. France rejected them
entirely, both because she did not wish to displease the Huguenots, and
also because she was offended by the supremacy which the pope arrogated
to himself over the council; some of the Roman Catholic princes of
Germany likewise declared against it. Little, however, as Philip II.
was pleased with many of its articles, which trenched too closely upon
his own rights, for no monarch was ever more jealous of his prerogative;
highly as the pope’s assumption of control over the council, and its
arbitrary, precipitate dissolution had offended him; just as was his
indignation at the slight which the pope had put upon his ambassador; he
nevertheless acknowledged the decrees of the synod, even in its present
form, because it favored his darling object--the extirpation of heresy.
Political considerations were all postponed to this one religious
object, and he commanded the publication and enforcement of its canons
throughout his dominions.
The spirit of revolt, which was diffused through the Belgian provinces,
scarcely required this new stimulus. There the minds of men were in a
ferment, and the character of the Romish Church had sunk almost to the
lowest point of contempt in the general opinion. Under such
circumstances the imperious and frequently injudicious decrees of the
council could not fail of being highly offensive; but Philip II. could
not belie his religious character so far as to allow a different
religion to a portion of his subjects, even though they might live on a
different soil and under different laws from the rest. The regent was
strictly enjoined to exact in the Netherlands the same obedience to the
decrees of Trent which was yielded to them in Spain and Italy.
They met, however, with the warmest opposition in the council of state
at Brussels. “The nation,” William of Orange declared, “neither would
nor could acknowledge them, since they were, for the most part, opposed
to the fundamental principles of their constitution; and, for similar
reasons, they had even been rejected by several Roman Catholic princes.”
The whole council nearly was on the side of Orange; a decided majority
were for entreating the king either to recall the decrees entirely or at
least to publish them under certain limitations. This proposition was
resisted by Viglius, who insisted on a strict and literal obedience to
the royal commands. “The church,” he said, “had in all ages maintained
the purity of its doctrines and the strictness of its discipline by
means of such general councils. No more efficacious remedy could be
opposed to the errors of opinion which had so long distracted their
country than these very decrees, the rejection of which is now urged by
the council of state. Even if they are occasionally at variance with
the constitutional rights of the citizens this is an evil which can
easily be met by a judicious and temperate application of them. For the
rest it redounds to the honor of our sovereign, the King of Spain, that
he alone, of all the princes of his time, refuses to yield his better
judgment to necessity, and will not, for any fear of consequences,
reject measures which the welfare of the church demands, and which the
happiness of his subjects makes a duty.”
But the decrees also contained several matters which affected the rights
of the crown itself. Occasion was therefore taken of this fact to
propose that these sections at least should be omitted from the
proclamation. By this means the king might, it was argued, be relieved
from these obnoxious and degrading articles by a happy expedient; the
national liberties of the Netherlands might be advanced as the pretext
for the omission, and the name of the republic lent to cover this
encroachment on the authority of the synod. But the king had caused
the decrees to be received and enforced in his other dominions
unconditionally; and it was not to be expected that he would give the
other Roman Catholic powers such an example of opposition, and himself
undermine the edifice whose foundation he had been so assiduous in
laying.
COUNT EGMONT IN SPAIN.
Count Egmont was despatched to Spain to make a forcible representation
to the king on the subject of these decrees; to persuade him, if
possible, to adopt a milder policy towards his Protestant subjects, and
to propose to him the incorporation of the three councils, was the
commission he received from the malcontents. By the regent he was
charged to apprise the monarch of the refractory spirit of the people;
to convince him of the impossibility of enforcing these edicts of
religion in their full severity; and lastly to acquaint him with the bad
state of the military defences and the exhausted condition of the
exchequer.
The count’s public instructions were drawn up by the President Viglius.
They contained heavy complaints of the decay of justice, the growth of
heresy, and the exhaustion of the treasury. He was also to press
urgently a personal visit from the king to the Netherlands. The rest
was left to the eloquence of the envoy, who received a hint from the
regent not to let so fair an opportunity escape of establishing himself
in the favor of his sovereign.
The terms in which the count’s instructions and the representations
which he was to make to the king were drawn up appeared to the Prince of
Orange far too vague and general. “The president’s statement,” he said,
“of our grievances comes very far short of the truth. How can the king
apply the suitable remedies if we conceal from him the full extent of
the evil? Let us not represent the numbers of the heretics inferior to
what it is in reality. Let us candidly acknowledge that they swarm in
every province and in every hamlet, however small. Neither let us
disguise from him the truth that they despise the penal statutes and
entertain but little reverence for the government. What good can come
of this concealment? Let us rather openly avow to the king that the
republic cannot long continue in its present condition. The privy
council indeed will perhaps pronounce differently, for to them the
existing disorders are welcome. For what else is the source of the
abuse of justice and the universal corruption of the courts of law but
its insatiable rapacity? How otherwise can the pomp and scandalous
luxury of its members, whom we have seen rise from the dust, be
supported if not by bribery? Do not the people daily complain that no
other key but gold can open an access to them; and do not even their
quarrels prove how little they are swayed by a care for the common weal?
Are they likely to consult the public good who are the slaves of their
private passions? Do they think forsooth that we, the governors of the
provinces are, with our soldiers, to stand ready at the beck and call of
an infamous lictor? Let them set bounds to their indulgences and free
pardons which they so lavishly bestow on the very persons to whom we
think it just and expedient to deny them. No one can remit the
punishment of a crime without sinning against the society and
contributing to the increase of the general evil. To my mind, and I
have no hesitation to avow it, the distribution amongst so many councils
of the state secrets and the affairs of government has always appeared
highly objectionable. The council of state is sufficient for all the
duties of the administration; several patriots have already felt this in
silence, and I now openly declare it. It is my decided conviction that
the only sufficient remedy for all the evils complained of is to merge
the other two chambers in the council of state. This is the point which
we must endeavor to obtain from the king, or the present embassy, like
all others, will be entirely useless and ineffectual.” The prince now
laid before the assembled senate the plan which we have already
described. Viglius, against whom this new proposition was individually
and mainly directed, and whose eyes were now suddenly opened, was
overcome by the violence of his vexation. The agitation of his feelings
was too much for his feeble body, and he was found, on the following
morning, paralyzed by apoplexy, and in danger of his life.
His place was supplied by Jaachim Hopper, a member of the privy council
at Brussels, a man of old-fashioned morals and unblemished integrity,
the president’s most trusted and worthiest friend.
[Vita Vigl. 89. The person from whose memoirs I have already drawn
so many illustrations of the times of this epoch. His subsequent
journey to Spain gave rise to the correspondence between him and
the president, which is one of the most valuable documents for our
history.]
To meet the wishes of the Orange party he made some additions to the
instructions of the ambassador, relating chiefly to the abolition of the
Inquisition and the incorporation of the three councils, not so much
with the consent of the regent as in the absence of her prohibition.
Upon Count Egmont taking leave of the president, who had recovered from
his attack, the latter requested him to procure in Spain permission to
resign his appointment. His day, he declared, was past; like the
example of his friend and predecessor, Granvella, he wished to retire
into the quiet of private life, and to anticipate the uncertainty of
fortune. His genius warned him of impending storm, by which he could
have no desire to be overtaken.
Count Egmont embarked on his journey to Spain in January, 1565, and was
received there with a kindness and respect which none of his rank had
ever before experienced. The nobles of Castile, taught by the king’s
example to conquer their feelings, or rather, true to his policy, seemed
to have laid aside their ancient grudge against the Flemish nobility,
and vied with one another in winning his heart by their affability. All
his private matters were immediately settled to his wishes by the king,
nay, even his expectations exceeded; and during the whole period of his
stay he had ample cause to boast of the hospitality of the monarch. The
latter assured him in the strongest terms of his love for his Belgian
subjects, and held out hopes of his acceding eventually to the general
wish, and remitting somewhat of the severity of the religious edicts.
At the same time, however, he appointed in Madrid a commission of
theologians to whom he propounded the question, “Is it necessary to
grant to the provinces the religious toleration they demand?” As the
majority of them were of opinion that the peculiar constitution of the
Netherlands, and the fear of a rebellion might well excuse a degree of
forbearance in their case, the question was repeated more pointedly.
“He did not seek to know,” he said, “if he might do so, but if he must.”
When the latter question was answered in the negative, he rose from his
seat, and kneeling down before a crucifix prayed in these words:
“Almighty Majesty, suffer me not at any time to fall so low as to
consent to reign over those who reject thee!” In perfect accordance
with the spirit of this prayer were the measures which he resolved to
adopt in the Netherlands. On the article of religion this monarch had
taken his resolution once forever; urgent necessity might, perhaps, have
constrained him temporarily to suspend the execution of the penal
statutes, but never, formally, to repeal them entirely, or even to
modify them. In vain did Egmont represent to him that the public
execution of the heretics daily augmented the number of their followers,
while the courage and even joy with which they met their death filled
the spectators with the deepest admiration, and awakened in them high
opinions of a doctrine which could make such heroes of its disciples.
This representation was not indeed lost upon the king, but it had a very
different effect from what it was intended to produce. In order to
prevent these seductive scenes, without, however, compromising the
severity of the edicts, he fell upon an expedient, and ordered that in
future the executions should take place in private. The answer of the
king on the subject of the embassy was given to the count in writing,
and addressed to the regent. The king, when he granted him an audience
to take leave, did not omit to call him to account for his behavior to
Granvella, and alluded particularly to the livery invented in derision
of the cardinal. Egmont protested that the whole affair had originated
in a convivial joke, and nothing was further from their meaning than to
derogate in the least from the respect that was due to royalty. “If he
knew,” he said, “that any individual among them had entertained such
disloyal thoughts be himself would challenge him to answer for it with
his life.”
At his departure the monarch made him a present of fifty thousand
florins, and engaged, moreover, to furnish a portion for his daughter on
her marriage. He also consigned to his care the young Farnese of Parma,
whom, to gratify the regent, his mother, he was sending to Brussels.
The king’s pretended mildness, and his professions of regard for the
Belgian nation, deceived the open-hearted Fleming. Happy in the idea of
being the bearer of so much felicity to his native country, when in fact
it was more remote than ever, he quitted Madrid satisfied beyond measure
to think of the joy with which the provinces would welcome the message
of their good king; but the opening of the royal answer in the council
of state at Brussels disappointed all these pleasing hopes. “Although
in regard to the religious edicts,” this was its tenor, “his resolve was
firm and immovable, and he would rather lose a thousand lives than
consent to alter a single letter of it, still, moved by the
representations of Count Egmont, he was, on the other hand, equally
determined not to leave any gentle means untried to guard the people
against the delusions of heresy, and so to avert from them that
punishment which must otherwise infallibly overtake them. As he had now
learned from the count that the principal source of the existing errors
in the faith was in the moral depravity of the clergy, the bad
instruction and the neglected education of the young, he hereby
empowered the regent to appoint a special commission of three bishops,
and a convenient number of learned theologians, whose business it should
be to consult about the necessary reforms, in order that the people
might no longer be led astray through scandal, nor plunge into error
through ignorance. As, moreover, he had been informed that the public
executions of the heretics did but afford them an opportunity of
boastfully displaying a foolhardy courage, and of deluding the common
herd by an affectation of the glory of martyrdom, the commission was to
devise means for putting in force the final sentence of the Inquisition
with greater privacy, and thereby depriving condemned heretics of the
honor of their obduracy.” In order, however, to provide against the
commission going beyond its prescribed limits Philip expressly required
that the Bishop of Ypres, a man whom he could rely on as a determined
zealot for the Romish faith, should be one of the body. Their
deliberaations were to be conducted, if possible, in secrecy, while the
object publicly assigned to them should be the introduction of the
Tridentine decrees. For this his motive seems to have been twofold; on
the one hand, not to alarm the court of Rome by the assembling of a
private council; nor, on the other, to afford any encouragement to the
spirit of rebellion in the provinces. At its sessions the duchess was
to preside, assisted by some of the more loyally disposed of her
counsellors, and regularly transmit to Philip a written account of its
transactions. To meet her most pressing wants he sent her a small
supply in money. He also gave her hopes of a visit from himself; first,
however, it was necessary that the war with the Turks, who were then
expected in hostile force before Malta, should be terminated. As to the
proposed augmentation of the council of state, and its union with the
privy council and chamber of finance, it was passed over in perfect
silence. The Duke of Arschot, however, who is already known to us as a
zealous royalist, obtained a voice and seat in the latter. Viglius,
indeed, was allowed to retire from the presidency of the privy council,
but he was obliged, nevertheless, to continue to discharge its duties
for four more years, because his successor, Carl Tyssenaque, of the
council for Netherlandish affairs in Madrid, could not sooner be spared.
SEVERER RELIGIOUS EDICTS--UNIVERSAL OPPOSITION OF THE NATION.
Scarcely was Egmont returned when severer edicts against heretics,
which, as it were, pursued him from Spain, contradicted the joyful
tidings which he had brought of a happy change in the sentiments of the
monarch. They were at the same time accompanied with a transcript of
the decrees of Trent, as they were acknowledged in Spain, and were now
to be proclaimed in the Netherlands also; with it came likewise the
death warrants of some Anabaptists and other kinds of heretics.
“The count has been beguiled,” William the Silent was now heard to say,
“and deluded by Spanish cunning. Self-love and vanity have blinded his
penetration; for his own advantage he has forgotten the general
welfare.” The treachery of the Spanish ministry was now exposed, and
this dishonest proceeding roused the indignation of the noblest in the
land. But no one felt it more acutely than Count Egmont, who now
perceived himself to have been the tool of Spanish duplicity, and to
have become unwittingly the betrayer of his own country. “These
specious favors then,” he exclaimed, loudly and bitterly, “were nothing
but an artifice to expose me to the ridicule of my fellow-citizens, and
to destroy my good name. If this is the fashion after which the king
purposes to keep the promises which he made to me in Spain, let who will
take Flanders; for my part, I will prove by my retirement from public
business that I have no share in this breach of faith.” In fact, the
Spanish ministry could not have adopted a surer method of breaking the
credit of so important a man--than by exhibiting him to his fellow
citizens, who adored him, as one whom they had succeeded in deluding.
Meanwhile the commission had been appointed, and had unanimously come
to the following decision: “Whether for the moral reformation of the
clergy, or for the religious instruction of the people, or for the
education of youth, such abundant provision had already been made in the
decrees of Trent that nothing now was requisite but to put these decrees
in force as speedily as possible. The imperial edicts against the
heretics already ought on no account to be recalled or modified; the
courts of justice, however, might be secretly instructed to punish with
death none but obstinate heretics or preachers, to make a difference
between the different sects, and to show consideration to the age, rank,
sex, or disposition of the accused. If it were really the case that
public executions did but inflame fanaticism, then, perhaps, the
unheroic, less observed, but still equally severe punishment of the
galleys, would be well-adapted to bring down all high notions of
martyrdom. As to the delinquencies which might have arisen out of mere
levity, curiosity, and thoughtlessness it would perhaps be sufficient to
punish them by fines, exile, or even corporal chastisement.”
During these deliberations, which, moreover, it was requisite to submit
to the king at Madrid, and to wait for the notification of his approval
of them, the time passed away unprofitably, the proceedings against the
sectaries being either suspended, or at least conducted very supinely.
Since the recall of Granvella the disunion which prevailed in the higher
councils, and from thence had extended to the provincial courts of
justice, combined with the mild feelings generally of the nobles on the
subject of religion, had raised the courage of the sects, and allowed
free scope to the proselytizing mania of their apostles. The
inquisitors, too, had fallen into contempt in consequence of the secular
arm withdrawing its support, and in many places even openly taking their
victims under its protection. The Roman Catholic part of the nation.
had formed great expectations from the decrees of the synod of Trent, as
well as from Egmont’s embassy to Spain; but in the latter case their
hopes had scarcely been justified by the joyous tidings which the count
had brought back, and, in the integrity of his heart, left nothing
undone to make known as widely as possible. The more disused the nation
had become to severity in matters pertaining to religion the more
acutely was it likely to feel the sudden adoption of even still more
rigorous measures. In this position of affairs the royal rescript
arrived from Spain in answer to the proposition of the bishops and the
last despatches of the regent. “Whatever interpretation (such was its
tenor) Count Egmont may have given to the king’s verbal communications,
it had never in the remotest manner entered his mind to think of
altering in the slightest degree the penal statutes which the Emperor,
his father, had five-and-thirty years ago published in the provinces.
These edicts he therefore commanded should henceforth be carried rigidly
into effect, the Inquisition should receive the most active support from
the secular arm, and the decrees of the council of Trent be irrevocably
and unconditionally acknowledged in all the provinces of his
Netherlands. He acquiesced fully in the opinion of the bishops and
canonists as to the sufficiency of the Tridentine decrees as guides in
all points of reformation of the clergy or instruction of the people;
but he could not concur with them as to the mitigation of punishment
which they proposed in consideration either of the age, sex, or
character of individuals, since he was of opinion that his edicts were
in no degree wanting in moderation. To nothing but want of zeal and
disloyalty on the part of judges could he ascribe the progress which
heresy had already made in the country. In future, therefore, whoever
among them should be thus wanting in zeal must be removed from his
office and make room for a more honest judge. The Inquisition ought to
pursue its appointed path firmly, fearlessly, and dispassionately,
without regard to or consideration of human feelings, and was to look
neither before nor behind. He would always be ready to approve of all
its measures however extreme if it only avoided public scandal.”
This letter of the king, to which the Orange party have ascribed all
the subsequent troubles of the Netherlands, caused the most violent
excitement amongst the state counsellors, and the expressions which in
society they either accidentally or intentionally let fall from them
with regard to it spread terror and alarm amongst the people. The dread
of the Spanish Inquisition returned with new force, and with it came
fresh apprehensions of the subversion of their liberties. Already the
people fancied they could hear prisons building, chains and fetters
forging, and see piles of fagots collecting. Society was occupied with
this one theme of conversation, and fear kept no longer within bounds.
Placards were affixed to houses of the nobles in which they were called
upon, as formerly Rome called on her Brutus, to come forward and save
expiring freedom. Biting pasquinades were published against the new
bishops--tormentors as they were called; the clergy were ridiculed in
comedies, and abuse spared the throne as little as the Romish see.
Terrified by the rumors which were afloat, the regent called together
all the counsellors of state to consult them on the course she ought to
adopt in this perilous crisis. Opinion varied and disputes were
violent. Undecided between fear and duty they hesitated to come to a
conclusion, until at last the aged senator, Viglius, rose and surprised
the whole assembly by his opinion. “It would,” he said, “be the height
of folly in us to think of promulgating the royal edict at the present
moment; the king must be informed of the reception which, in all
probability, it will now meet. In the meantime the inquisitors must
be enjoined to use their power with moderation, and to abstain from
severity.” But if these words of the aged president surprised the whole
assembly, still greater was the astonishment when the Prince of Orange
stood up and opposed his advice. “The royal will,” he said, “is too
clearly and too precisely stated; it is the result of too long and too
mature deliberation for us to venture to delay its execution without
bringing on ourselves the reproach of the most culpable obstinacy.”
“That I take on myself,” interrupted Viglius; “I oppose myself to, his
displeasure. If by this delay we purchase for him the peace of the
Netherlands our opposition will eventually secure for us the lasting
gratitude of the king.” The regent already began to incline to the
advice of Viglius, when the prince vehemently interposing, “What,” he
demanded, “what have the many representations which we have already made
effected? of what avail was the embassy we so lately despatched?
Nothing! And what then do we wait for more? Shall we, his state
counsellors, bring upon ourselves the whole weight of his displeasure by
determining, at our own peril, to render him a service for which he will
never thank us?” Undecided and uncertain the whole assembly remained
silent; but no one had courage enough to assent to or reply to him. But
the prince had appealed to the fears of the regent, and these left her
no choice. The consequences of her unfortunate obedience to the king’s
command will soon appear. But, on the other hand, if by a wise
disobedience she had avoided these fatal consequences, is it clear that
the result would not have been the same? However she had adopted the
most fatal of the two counsels: happen what would the royal ordinance
was to be promulgated. This time, therefore, faction prevailed, and the
advice of the only true friend of the government, who, to serve his
monarch, was ready to incur his displeasure, was disregarded. With this
session terminated the peace of the regent: from this day the
Netherlands dated all the trouble which uninterruptedly visited their
country. As the counsellors separated the Prince of Orange said to one
who stood nearest to him, “Now will soon be acted a great tragedy.”
[The conduct of the Prince of Orange in this meeting of the council
has been appealed to by historians of the Spanish party as a proof
of his dishonesty, and they have availed themselves over and over
again to blacken his character. “He,” say they, “who had,
invariably up to this period, both by word and deed, opposed the
measures of the court so long as he had any ground to fear that the
king’s measures could be successfully carried out, supported them
now for the first time when he was convinced that a scrupulous
obedience to the royal orders would inevitably prejudice him. In
order to convince the king of his folly in disregarding his
warnings; in order to be able to boast, ‘this I foresaw,’ and ‘I
foretold that,’ he was willing to risk the welfare of his nation,
for which alone he had hitherto professed to struggle. The whole
tenor of his previous conduct proved that he held the enforcement
of the edicts to be an evil; nevertheless, he at once becomes false
to his own convictions and follows an opposite course; although, so
far as the nation was concerned, the same grounds existed as had
dictated his former measures; and he changed his conduct simply
that the result might be different to the king.” “It is clear,
therefore,” continue his adversaries, “that the welfare of the
nation had less weight with him than his animosity to his
sovereign. In order to gratify his hatred to the latter he does
not hesitate to sacrifice the former.” But is it then true that by
calling for the promulgation of these edicts he sacrificed the
nation? or, to speak more correctly, did he carry the edicts into
effect by insisting on their promulgation? Can it not, on the
contrary, be shown with far more probability that this was really
the only way effectually to frustrate them? The nation was in a
ferment, and the indignant people would (there was reason to
expect, and as Viglius himself seems to have apprehended) show so
decided a spirit of opposition as must compel the king to yield.
“Now,” says Orange, “my country feels all the impulse necessary for
it to contend successfully with tyranny! If I neglect the present
moment the tyrant will, by secret negotiation and intrigue, find
means to obtain by stealth what by open force he could not. The
some object will be steadily pursued, only with greater caution and
forbearance; but extremity alone can combine the people to unity of
purpose, and move them to bold measures.” It is clear, therefore,
that with regard to the king the prince did but change his language
only; but that as far as the people was concerned his conduct was
perfectly consistent. And what duties did he owe the king apart
from those he owed the republic? Was he to oppose an arbitrary act
in the very moment when it was about to entail a just retribution
on its author? Would he have done his duty to his country if he
had deterred its oppressor from a precipitate step which alone
could save it from its otherwise unavoidable misery?]
An edict, therefore, was issued to all the governors of provinces,
commanding them rigorously to enforce the mandates of the Emperor
against heretics, as well as those which had been passed under the
present government, the decrees of the council of Trent, and those of
the episcopal commission, which had lately sat to give all the aid of
the civil force to the Inquisition, and also to enjoin a similar line of
conduct on the officers of government under them. More effectually to
secure their object, every governor was to select from his own council
an efficient officer who should frequently make the circuit of the
province and institute strict inquiries into the obedience shown by the
inferior officers to these commands, and then transmit quarterly, to the
capital an exact report of their visitation. A copy of the Tridentine
decrees, according to the Spanish original, was also sent to the
archbishops and bishops, with an intimation that in case of their
needing the assistance of the secular power, the governors of their
diocese, with their troops, were placed at their disposal. Against
these decrees no privilege was to avail; however, the king willed and
commanded that the particular territorial rights of the provinces and
towns should in no case be infringed.
These commands, which were publicly read in every town by a herald,
produced an effect on the people which in the fullest manner verified
the fears of the President Viglius and the hopes of the Prince of
Orange.
Nearly all the governors of provinces refused compliance with them, and
threatened to throw up their appointments if the attempt should be made
to compel their obedience. “The ordinance,” they wrote back, “was based
on a statement of the numbers of the sectaries, which was altogether
false.”
[The number of the heretics was very unequally computed by the two
parties according as the interests and passions of either made its
increase or diminution desirable, and the same party often
contradicted itself when its interest changed. If the question
related to new measures of oppression, to the introduction of the
inquisitional tribunals, etc., the numbers of the Protestants were
countless and interminable. If, on the other hand, the question
was of lenity towards them, of ordinances to their advantage, they
were now reduced to such an insignificant number that it would not
repay the trouble of making an innovation for this small body of
ill-minded people.]
“Justice was appalled at the prodigious crowd of victims which daily
accumulated under its hands; to destroy by the flames fifty thousand or
sixty thousand persons from their districts was no commission for them.”
The inferior clergy too, in particular, were loud in their outcries
against the decrees of Trent, which cruelly assailed their ignorance and
corruption, and which moreover threatened them with a reform they so
much detested. Sacrificing, therefore, the highest interests of their
church to their own private advantage, they bitterly reviled the decrees
and the whole council, and with liberal hand scattered the seeds of
revolt in the minds of the people. The same outcry was now revived
which the monks had formerly raised against the new bishops. The
Archbishop of Cambray succeeded at last, but not without great
opposition, in causing the decrees to be proclaimed. It cost more labor
to effect this in Malines and Utrect, where the archbishops were at
strife with their clergy, who, as they were accused, preferred to
involve the whole church in ruin rather than submit to a reformation of
morals.
Of all the provinces Brabant raised its voice the loudest. The states
of this province appealed to their great privilege, which protected
their members from being brought before a foreign court of justice.
They spoke loudly of the oath by which the king had bound himself to
observe all their statutes, and of the conditions under which they alone
had sworn allegiance to him. Louvain, Antwerp, Brussels, and
Herzogenbusch solemnly protested against the decrees, and transmitted
their protests in distinct memorials to the regent. The latter, always
hesitating and wavering, too timid to obey the king, and far more afraid
to disobey him, again summoned her council, again listened to the
arguments for and against the question, and at last again gave her
assent to the opinion which of all others was the most perilous for her
to adopt. A new reference to the king in Spain was proposed; the next
moment it was asserted that so urgent a crisis did not admit of so
dilatory a remedy; it was necessary for the regent to act on her own
responsibility, and either defy the threatening aspect of despair, or to
yield to it by modifying or retracting the royal ordinance. She finally
caused the annals of Brabant to be examined in order to discover if
possible a precedent for the present case in the instructions of the
first inquisitor whom Charles V. had appointed to the province. These
instructions indeed did not exactly correspond with those now given; but
had not the king declared that he introduced no innovation? This was
precedent enough, and it was declared that the new edicts must also be
interpreted in accordance with the old and existing statutes of the
province. This explanation gave indeed no satisfaction to the states
of Brabant, who had loudly demanded the entire abolition of the
inquisition, but it was an encouragement to the other provinces to make
similar protests and an equally bold opposition. Without giving the
duchess time to decide upon their remonstrances they, on their own
authority, ceased to obey the inquisition, and withdrew their aid from
it. The inquisitors, who had so recently been expressly urged to a more
rigid execution of their duties now saw themselves suddenly deserted by
the secular arm, and robbed of all authority, while in answer to their
application for assistance the court could give them only empty
promises. The regent by thus endeavoring to satisfy all parties had
displeased all.
During these negotiations between the court, the councils, and the
states a universal spirit of revolt pervaded the whole nation. Men
began to investigate the rights of the subject, and to scrutinize the
prerogative of kings. “The Netherlanders were not so stupid,” many were
heard to say with very little attempt at secrecy, “as not to know right
well what was due from the subject to the sovereign, and from the king
to the subject; and that perhaps means would yet be found to repel force
with force, although at present there might be no appearance of it.”
In Antwerp a placard was set up in several places calling upon the town
council to accuse the King of Spain before the supreme court at Spires
of having broken his oath and violated the liberties of the country,
for, Brabant being a portion of the Burgundian circle, was included in
the religious peace of Passau and Augsburg. About this time too the
Calvinists published their confession of faith, and in a preamble
addressed to the king, declared that they, although a hundred thousand
strong, kept themselves nevertheless quiet, and like the rest of his
subjects, contributed to all the taxes of the country; from which it was
evident, they added, that of themselves they entertained no ideas of
insurrection. Bold and incendiary writings were publicly disseminated,
which depicted the Spanish tyranny in the most odious colors, and
reminded the nation of its privileges, and occasionally also of its
powers.
[The regent mentioned to the king a number (three thousand) of
these writings. Strada 117. It is remarkable how important a part
printing, and publicity in general, played in the rebellion of the
Netherlands. Through this organ one restless spirit spoke to
millions. Besides the lampoons, which for the most part were
composed with all the low scurrility and brutality which was the
distinguishing character of most of the Protestant polemical
writings of the time, works were occasionally published which
defended religious liberty in the fullest sense of the word.]
The warlike preparations of Philip against the Porte, as well as those
which, for no intelligible reason, Eric, Duke of Brunswick, about this
time made in the vicinity, contributed to strengthen the general
suspicion that the Inquisition was to be forcibly imposed on the
Netherlands. Many of the most eminent merchants already spoke of
quitting their houses and business to seek in some other part of the
world the liberty of which they were here deprived; others looked about
for a leader, and let fall hints of forcible resistance and of foreign
aid.
That in this distressing position of affairs the regent might be left
entirely without an adviser and without support, she was now deserted by
the only person who was at the present moment indispensable to her, and
who had contributed to plunge her into this embarrassment. “Without
kindling a civil war,” wrote to her William of Orange, “it was
absolutely impossible to comply now with the orders of the king.
If, however, obedience was to be insisted upon, he must beg that his
place might be supplied by another who would better answer the
expectations of his majesty, and have more power than he had over the
minds of the nation. The zeal which on every other occasion he had
shown in the service of the crown, would, he hoped, secure his present
proceeding from misconstruction; for, as the case now stood, he had no
alternative between disobeying the king and injuring his country and
himself.” From this time forth William of Orange retired from the
council of state to his town of Breda, where in observant but scarcely
inactive repose he watched the course of affairs. Count Horn followed
his example. Egmont, ever vacillating between the republic and the
throne, ever wearying himself in the vain attempt to unite the good
citizen with the obedient subject--Egmont, who was less able than the
rest to dispense with the favor of the monarch, and to whom, therefore,
it was less an object of indifference, could not bring himself to
abandon the bright prospects which were now opening for him at the court
of the regent. The Prince of Orange had, by his superior intellect,
gained an influence over the regent--which great minds cannot fail to
command from inferior spirits. His retirement had opened a void in her
confidence which Count Egmont was now to fill by virtue of that sympathy
which so naturally subsists between timidity, weakness, and good-nature.
As she was as much afraid of exasperating the people by an exclusive
confidence in the adherents to the crown, as she was fearful of
displeasing the king by too close an understanding with the declared
leaders of the faction, a better object for her confidence could now
hardly be presented than this very Count Egmont, of whom it could not be
said that he belonged to either of the two conflicting parties.