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 of 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.
Up to this point the general peace had, it appears, been the sincere
wish of the Prince of Orange, the Counts Egmont and Horn, and their
friends. They had pursued the true interest of their sovereign as much
as the general weal; at least their exertions and their actions had been
as little at variance with the former as with the latter. Nothing had as
yet occurred to make their motives suspected or to manifest in them a
rebellious spirit. What they had done they had done in discharge of
their bounden duty as members of a free state, as the representatives of
the nation, as advisers of the King, as men of integrity and honor. The
only weapons they had used to oppose the encroachments of the court had
been remonstrances, modest complaints, petitions. They had never allowed
themselves to be so far carried away by a just zeal for their good cause
as to transgress the limits of prudence and moderation, which on many
occasions are so easily overstepped by party spirit. But all the nobles
of the republic did not now listen to the voice of that prudence, all
did not abide within the bounds of moderation.
While in the council of state the great question was discussed, whether
the nation was to be miserable or not, while its sworn deputies summoned
to their assistance all the arguments of reason and of equity, and while
the middle classes and the people contented themselves with empty
complaints, menaces, and curses, that part of the nation which of all
seemed least called upon, and on whose support least reliance had been
placed, began to take more active measures. We have already described a
class of the nobility whose services and wants Philip, at his accession,
had not considered it necessary to remember. Of these, by far the
greater number had asked for promotion from a much more urgent reason
than a love of the mere honor. Many of them were deeply sunk in debt,
from which by their own resources they could not hope to emancipate
themselves. When, then, in filling up appointments, Philip passed them
over, he wounded them in a point far more sensitive than their pride.
In these suitors he had by his neglect raised up so many idle spies and
merciless judges of his actions, so many collectors and propagators of
malicious rumor. As their pride did not quit them with their prosperity,
so now, driven by necessity, they trafficked with the sole capital which
they could not alienate--their nobility, and the political influence of
their names; and brought into circulation a coin which only in such a
period could have found currency--their protection. With a self-pride,
to which they gave the more scope as it was all they could now call
their own, they looked upon themselves as a strong intermediate power
between the sovereign and the citizen, and believed themselves called
upon to hasten to the rescue of the oppressed state, which looked
imploringly to them for succor.
This idea was ludicrous only so far as their self-conceit was concerned
in it; the advantages which they contrived to draw from it were
substantial enough. The Protestant merchants, who held in their hands
the chief part of the wealth of the Netherlands, and who believed they
could not at any price purchase too dearly the undisturbed exercise of
their religion, did not fail to make use of this class of people, who
stood idle in the market and ready to be hired. These very men, whom at
any other time the merchants, in their pride of riches, would most
probably have looked down upon, now appeared likely to do them good
service through their numbers, their courage, their credit with the
populace, their enmity to the Government, nay, through their beggarly
pride itself and their despair. On these grounds they zealously
endeavored to form a close union with them, and diligently fostered the
disposition for rebellion, while they also used every means to keep
alive their high opinions of themselves, and, what was most important,
lured their poverty by well-applied pecuniary assistance and glittering
promises. Few of them were so utterly insignificant as not to possess
some influence, if not personally, yet at least by their relationship
with higher and more powerful nobles; and, if united, they would be able
to raise a formidable voice against the crown. Many of them had either
already joined the new sect or were secretly inclined to it; and even
those who were zealous Roman Catholics had political or private grounds
enough to set them against the decrees of Trent and the Inquisition.
All, in fine, felt the cause of vanity sufficiently powerful not to
allow the only moment to escape them in which they might possibly make
some figure in the republic.
But much as might be expected from the coöperation of these men in a
body, it would have been futile and ridiculous to build any hopes on any
one of them singly; and the great difficulty was to effect a union among
them. Even to bring them together, some unusual occurrence was
necessary; and, fortunately, such an incident presented itself. The
nuptials of Baron Montigny, one of the Belgian nobles, as also those of
the prince Alexander of Parma, which took place about this time in
Brussels, assembled in that town a great number of the Belgian nobles.
On this occasion relations met relations; new friendships were formed
and old renewed; and, while the distress of the country was the topic of
conversation, wine and mirth unlocked lips and hearts, hints were
dropped of union among themselves and of an alliance with foreign
powers. These accidental meetings soon led to concealed ones, and public
discussions gave rise to secret consultations. Two German barons,
moreover, a Count of Holle and of Schwarzenberg, who happened at this
time to be on a visit to the Netherlands, omitted nothing to awaken
expectations of assistance from their neighbors. Count Louis of Nassau,
too, had also, a short time before, visited several German courts to
ascertain their sentiments.[2] It has even been asserted that secret
emissaries of the admiral Coligny were seen at this time in Brabant; but
this, however, may be reasonably doubted.
[2] It was not without cause that the Prince of Orange suddenly
disappeared from Brussels in order to be present at the election
of a king of Rome in Frankfort. An assembly of so many German
princes must have greatly favored a negotiation.
If ever a political crisis was favorable to an attempt at revolution, it
was the present: a woman at the helm of government; the governors of
provinces disaffected themselves, and disposed to wink at
insubordination in others; most of the state counsellors quite
inefficient; no army to fall back upon; the few troops there were, long
since discontented on account of the outstanding arrears of pay, and
already too often deceived by false promises to be enticed by new;
commanded, moreover, by officers who despised the Inquisition from their
hearts, and would have blushed to draw a sword in its behalf; and
lastly, no money in the treasury to enlist new troops or to hire
foreigners. The court at Brussels, as well as the three councils, not
only divided by internal dissensions, but in the highest degree venal
and corrupt; the Regent without full powers to act on the spot, and the
King at a distance; his adherents in the provinces few, uncertain, and
dispirited; the faction numerous and powerful; two-thirds of the people
irritated against popery and desirous of a change--such was the
unfortunate weakness of the Government, and the more unfortunate still
that this weakness was so well known to its enemies!
In order to unite so many minds in the prosecution of a common object, a
leader was still wanting, and a few influential names, to give political
weight to their enterprise. The two were supplied by Count Louis of
Nassau, and Henry Count Brederode, both members of the most illustrious
houses of the Belgian nobility, who voluntarily placed themselves at the
head of the undertaking. Louis of Nassau, brother of the Prince of
Orange, united many splendid qualities, which made him worthy of
appearing on so noble and important a stage. In Geneva, where he
studied, he had imbibed at once a hatred to the hierarchy and a love to
the new religion, and, on his return to his native country, had not
failed to enlist proselytes to his opinions. The republican bias which
his mind had received in that school kindled in him a bitter hatred of
all that bore the Spanish name, which animated his whole conduct, and
only left him with his latest breath. Popery and Spanish rule were in
his mind identical, as indeed they were in reality; and the abhorrence
which he entertained for the one helped to strengthen his dislike to the
other.
Closely as the brothers agreed in their inclinations and aversions, the
ways by which each sought to gratify them were widely dissimilar. Youth
and an ardent temperament did not allow the younger brother to follow
the tortuous course through which the elder wound himself to his object.
A cold, calm circumspection carried the latter slowly, but surely, to
his aim; and with a pliable subtlety he made all things subserve his
purpose; with a foolhardy impetuosity, which overthrew all obstacles,
the other at times compelled success, but oftener accelerated disaster.
For this reason William was a general, and Louis never more than an
adventurer; a sure and powerful arm, if only it were directed by a wise
head. Louis' pledge once given was good forever; his alliances survived
every vicissitude, for they were mostly formed in a pressing moment of
necessity, and misfortune binds more firmly than thoughtless joy. He
loved his brother as dearly as he did his cause, and for the latter he
died.
Henry of Brederode, Baron of Viane and Burgrave of Utrecht, was
descended from the old Dutch counts, who formerly ruled that province as
sovereign princes. So ancient a title endeared him to the people, among
whom the memory of their former lords still survived and was the more
treasured the less they felt they had gained by the change. This
hereditary splendor increased the self-conceit of a man upon whose
tongue the glory of his ancestors continually hung, and who dwelt the
more on former greatness, even amid its ruins, the more unpromising the
aspect of his own condition became. Excluded from the honors and
employments to which in his opinion his own merits and his noble
ancestry fully entitled him--a squadron of light cavalry being all that
was intrusted to him--he hated the Government, and did not scruple
boldly to canvass and to rail at its measures. By these means he won the
hearts of the people.
Besides these two, there were others also from among the most
illustrious of the Flemish nobles--the young Count Charles of Mansfeld,
a son of that nobleman whom we have found among the most zealous
royalists, the Count Kinlemburg, two counts of Bergen and of Battenburg,
John of Marnix, Baron of Thoulouse, Philip of Marnix, Baron of St.
Aldegonde, with several others, who joined the league, which about the
middle of November, in the year 1565, was formed at the house of Von
Hammes, king-at-arms of the Golden Fleece. Here it was that six men
decided the destiny of their country--as formerly a few confederates
consummated the liberty of Switzerland--kindled the torch of a
forty-years' war, and laid the basis of a freedom which they themselves
were never to enjoy.
The objects of the league were set forth in the following declaration,
to which Philip of Marnix was the first to subscribe his name: "Whereas
certain ill-disposed persons, under the mask of a pious zeal, but in
reality under the impulse of avarice and ambition, have by their evil
counsels persuaded our most gracious sovereign the King to introduce
into these countries the abominable tribunal of the Inquisition--a
tribunal diametrically opposed to all laws human and divine, and in
cruelty far surpassing the barbarous institutions of heathenism--which
raises the inquisitors above every other power, and debases man to a
perpetual bondage, and by its snares exposes the honest citizen to a
constant fear of death, inasmuch as anyone--priest, it may be, or a
faithless friend, a Spaniard or a reprobate--has it in his power at any
moment to cause whom he will to be dragged before that tribunal, and to
be placed in confinement, condemned and executed, without the accused
ever being allowed to face his accuser or to adduce proof of his
innocence--we, therefore, the undersigned, have bound ourselves to watch
over the safety of our families, our estates, and our own persons. To
this we hereby pledge ourselves, and to this end bind ourselves as a
sacred fraternity, and vow with a solemn oath to oppose to the best of
our power the introduction of this tribunal into these countries,
whether it be attempted openly or secretly, and under whatever name it
may be disguised. We at the same time declare that we are far from
intending anything unlawful against the King our sovereign; rather is it
our unalterable purpose to support and defend the royal prerogative, and
to maintain peace, and, as far as lies in our power to put down all
rebellion. In accordance with this purpose we have sworn, and now again
swear, to hold sacred the Government, and to respect both in word and
deed, which witness almighty God!
"Further, we vow and swear to protect and defend one another, in all
times and places, against all attacks whatsoever touching the articles
which are set forth in this covenant. We hereby bind ourselves that no
accusation of any of our followers, in whatever name it may be clothed,
whether rebellion, sedition, or other wise, shall avail to annul our
oath toward the accused or absolve us from our obligation toward him. No
act which is directed against the Inquisition can deserve the name of a
rebellion. Whoever, therefore, shall be placed in arrest on any charge,
we here pledge ourselves to assist him to the utmost of our ability, and
to endeavor by every allowable means to effect his liberation. In this,
however, as in all matters, but especially in the conduct of all
measures against the tribunal of the Inquisition, we submit ourselves to
the general regulations of the league, or to the decision of those whom
we may unanimously appoint our counsellors and leaders.
"In witness hereof, and in confirmation of this our common league and
covenant, we call upon the holy name of the living God, maker of heaven
and earth and of all that are therein, who searches the hearts, the
consciences, and the thoughts, and knows the purity of ours. We implore
the aid of his holy spirit, that success and honor may crown our
undertaking to the glory of his name and to the peace and blessing of
our country!"
This covenant was immediately translated into several languages and
quickly disseminated through the provinces. To swell the league as
speedily as possible, each of the confederates assembled all his
friends, relations, adherents, and retainers. Great banquets were held,
which lasted whole days--irresistible temptations for a sensual
luxurious people, in whom the deepest wretchedness could not stifle the
propensity for voluptuous living. Whoever repaired to these
banquets--and everyone was welcome--was plied with officious assurances
of friendship, and, when heated with wine, carried away by the example
of numbers and overcome by the fire of a wild eloquence. The hands of
many were guided while they subscribed their signatures; the hesitating
were derided, the pusillanimous threatened, the scruples of loyalty
clamored down; some even were quite ignorant what they were signing, and
were ashamed afterward to inquire. To many whom mere levity had brought
to the entertainment, the general enthusiasm left no choice, while the
splendor of the confederacy allured the mean, and its numbers encouraged
the timorous.
The abettors of the league had not scrupled at the artifice of
counterfeiting the signature and seals of the Prince of Orange, Counts
Egmont, Horn, Megen, and others, a trick which won them hundreds of
adherents. This was done especially with a view of influencing the
officers of the army, in order to be safe in this quarter if matters
should come at last to violence. The device succeeded with many,
especially with subalterns, and Count Brederode even drew his sword upon
an ensign who wished time for consideration. Men of all classes and
conditions signed it. Religion made no difference. Roman Catholic
priests even were associates of the league. The motives were not the
same with all, but the pretext was similar. The Roman Catholics desired
simply the abolition of the Inquisition and a mitigation of the edicts;
the Protestants aimed at unlimited freedom of conscience.
A few daring spirits only entertained so bold a project as the overthrow
of the present Government, while the needy and indigent based the vilest
hopes on a general anarchy. A farewell entertainment, which about this
very time was given to the Counts Schwarzenberg and Holle in Breda, and
another shortly afterward in Hogstraten, drew many of the principal
nobility to these two places, and of these several had already signed
the covenant. The Prince of Orange, Counts Egmont, Horn, and Megen were
present at the latter banquet, but without any concert of design, and
without having themselves any share in the league, although one of
Egmont's own secretaries and some of the servants of the other three
noblemen had openly joined it. At this entertainment three hundred
persons gave in their adhesion to the covenant, and the question was
mooted whether the whole body should present themselves before the
Regent armed or unarmed, with a declaration or with a petition? Horn and
Orange--Egmont would not countenance the business in any way--were
called in as arbiters upon this point, and they decided in favor of the
more moderate and submissive procedure. By taking this office upon them,
they exposed themselves to the charge of having in no very covert manner
lent their sanction to the enterprise of the confederates. In
compliance, therefore, with their advice it was determined to present
their address unarmed and in the form of a petition, and a day was
appointed on which they should assemble in Brussels.
The first intimation the Regent received of this conspiracy of the
nobles was given by the Count of Megen soon after his return to the
capital. "There was," he said, "an enterprise on foot; no less than
three hundred of the nobles were implicated in it; it referred to
religion; the members of it had bound themselves together by an oath;
they reckoned much on foreign aid; she would soon know more about it."
Though urgently pressed, he would give her no further information. "A
nobleman," he said, "had confided it to him under the seal of secrecy,
and he had pledged his word of honor to him." What really withheld him
from giving her any further explanation was, in all probability, not so
much any delicacy about his honor, as his hatred of the Inquisition,
which he would not willingly do anything to advance. Soon after him,
Count Egmont delivered to the Regent a copy of the covenant, and also
gave her the names of the conspirators, with some few exceptions. Nearly
at the same time the Prince of Orange wrote to her: "There was, as he
had heard, an army enlisted, four hundred officers were already named,
and twenty thousand men would presently appear in arms." Thus the rumor
was intentionally exaggerated, and the danger was multiplied in every
mouth.
The Regent petrified with alarm at the first announcement of these
tidings, and guided solely by her fears, hastily called together all the
members of the council of state who happened to be then in Brussels, and
at the same time sent a pressing summons to the Prince of Orange and
Count Horn, inviting them to resume their seats in the senate.
The members of the senate had not yet dispersed, when all Brussels
resounded with the report that the confederates were approaching the
town. They consisted of no more than two hundred horse, but rumor
greatly exaggerated their numbers. Filled with consternation, the Regent
consulted with her ministers whether it was best to close the gates on
the approaching party or to seek safety in flight. Both suggestions were
rejected as dishonorable; and the peaceable entry of the nobles soon
allayed all fears of violence. The first morning after their arrival
they assembled at Kuilemburg house, where Brederode administered to them
a second oath, binding them, before all other duties, to stand by one
another, and even with arms if necessary. At this meeting a letter from
Spain was produced, in which it was stated that a certain Protestant,
whom they all knew and valued, had been burned alive in that country by
a slow fire. After these and similar preliminaries he called on them one
after another, by name, to take the new oath, and renew the old one in
their own names and in those of the absent. The next day, April 5, 1566,
was fixed for the presentation of the petition. Their numbers now
amounted to between three hundred and four hundred. Among them were many
retainers of the high nobility, as also several servants of the King
himself and of the Duchess.