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MOTLEY'S HISTORY OF THE NETHERLANDS, PG EDITION, VOLUME 10.
THE RISE OF THE DUTCH REPUBLIC
JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY, D.C.L., LL.D.
1855
1566 [CHAPTER VI.]
Francis Junius--His sermon at Culemburg House--The Compromise--
Portraits of Sainte Aldegonde, of Louis 'Nassau, of "Toison d'Or,"
of Charles Mansfeld--Sketch of the Compromise--Attitude of Orange--
His letter to the Duchess--Signers of the Compromise--Indiscretion
of the confederates--Espionage over Philip by Orange--
Dissatisfaction of the seigniors--Conduct of Egmont--Despair of the
people--Emigration to England--Its effects--The request--Meeting at
Breda and Hoogstraaten--Exaggerated statements concerning the
Request in the state council--Hesitation of the Duchess--Assembly of
notables--Debate concerning the Request and the inquisition--
Character of Brederode--Arrival of the petitioners in Brussels--
Presentation of the Request--Emotion of Margaret--Speech of
Brederode--Sketch of the Request--Memorable sarcasm of Berlaymont--
Deliberation in the state council--Apostille to the Request--Answer
to the Apostille--Reply of the Duchess--Speech of D'Esquerdes--
Response of Margaret--Memorable banquet at Culemburg House--Name of
"the beggars" adopted--Orange, Egmont, and Horn break up the riotous
meeting--Costume of "the beggars"--Brederode at Antwerp--Horrible
execution at Oudenardo--Similar cruelties throughout the provinces--
Project of "Moderation"--Religious views of Orange--His resignation
of all his offices not accepted--The "Moderation" characterized--
Egmont at Arras Debate on the "Moderation"--Vacillation of Egmont--
Mission of Montigny and Berghen to Spain--Instructions to the
envoys--Secret correspondence of Philip with the Pope concerning the
Netherland inquisition and the edicts--Field-preaching in the
provinces--Modet at Ghent--Other preachers characterized--Excitement
at Tournay--Peter Gabriel at Harlem--Field--preaching near Antwerp--
Embarrassment of the Regent--Excitement at Antwerp--Pensionary
Wesenbeck sent to Brussels--Orange at Antwerp--His patriotic course
--Misrepresentation of the Duchess--Intemperate zeal of Dr.
Rythovius--Meeting at St. Trond--Conference at Duffel--Louis of
Nassau deputed to the Regent--Unsatisfactory negotiations.
The most remarkable occurrence in the earlier part of the year 1556 was
the famous Compromise. This document, by which the signers pledged
themselves to oppose the inquisition, and to defend each other against
all consequences of such a resistance, was probably the work of Philip de
Marnix, Lord of Sainte Aldegonde. Much obscurity, however, rests upon
the origin of this league. Its foundations had already been laid in the
latter part of the preceding year. The nuptials of Parma with the
Portuguese princess had been the cause of much festivity, not only in
Brussels, but at Antwerp. The great commercial metropolis had celebrated
the occasion by a magnificent banquet. There had been triumphal arches,
wreaths of flowers, loyal speeches, generous sentiments, in the usual
profusion. The chief ornament of the dinner-table had been a magnificent
piece of confectionary, netting elaborately forth the mission of Count
Mansfeld with the fleet to Portugal to fetch the bride from her home,
with exquisitely finished figures in sugar--portraits, it is to be
presumed--of the principal personages as they appeared during the most
striking scenes of the history. At the very moment, however, of these
delectations, a meeting was held at Brussels of men whose minds were
occupied with sterner stuff than sugar-work. On the wedding-day of
Parma, Francis Junius, a dissenting minister then residing at Antwerp,
was invited to Brussels to preach a sermon in the house of Count
Culemburg, on the horse-market (now called Little Sablon), before
a small assembly of some twenty gentlemen.
This Francis Junius, born of a noble family in Bourges, was the pastor
of the secret French congregation of Huguenots at Antwerp. He was very
young, having arrived from Geneva, where he had been educated, to take
charge of the secret church, when but just turned of twenty years.
He was, however, already celebrated for his learning, his eloquence,
and his courage. Towards the end of 1565, it had already become known
that Junius was in secret understanding with Louis of Nassau, to prepare
an address to government on the subject of the inquisition and edicts.
Orders were given for his arrest.
A certain painter of Brussels affected conversion to the new religion,
that he might gain admission to the congregation, and afterwards earn the
reward of the informer. He played his part so well that he was permitted
to attend many meetings, in the course of which he sketched the portrait
of the preacher, and delivered it to the Duchess Regent, together with
minute statements as to his residence and daily habits. Nevertheless,
with all this assistance, the government could not succeed in laying
hands on him. He escaped to Breda, and continued his labors in spite of
persecution. The man's courage may be estimated from the fact that he
preached on one occasion a sermon, advocating the doctrines of the
reformed Church with his usual eloquence, in a room overlooking the
market-place, where, at the very, instant, the execution by fire of
several heretics was taking place, while the light from the flames in
which the brethren of their Faith were burning, was flickering through
the glass windows of the conventicle. Such was the man who preached a
sermon in Culemburg Palace on Parma's wedding-day. The nobles who
listened to him were occupied with grave discourse after conclusion
of the religious exercises. Junius took no part in their conversation,
but in his presence it was resolved that a league against the "barbarous
and violent inquisition" should be formed, and, that the confederates
should mutually bind themselves both within and without the Netherlands
to this great purpose. Junius, in giving this explicit statement; has
not mentioned the names of the nobles before whom he preached. It may be
inferred that some of them were the more ardent and the more respectable
among the somewhat miscellaneous band by whom the Compromise was
afterwards signed.
At about the same epoch, Louis of Nassau, Nicolas de Hammes, and certain
other gentlemen met at the baths of Spa. At this secret assembly, the
foundations of the Compromise were definitely laid. A document was
afterwards drawn up, which was circulated for signatures in the early
part of 1566. It is, therefore, a mistake to suppose that this memorable
paper was simultaneously signed and sworn to at any solemn scene like
that of the declaration of American Independence, or like some of the
subsequent transactions in the Netherland revolt, arranged purposely for
dramatic effect. Several copies of the Compromise were passed secretly
from hand to hand, and in the course of two months some two thousand
signatures had been obtained. The original copy bore but three names,
those of Brederode, Charles de Mansfeld, and Louis of Nassau.
The composition of the paper is usually ascribed to Sainte Aldegonde,
although the fact is not indisputable. At any rate, it is very certain
that he was one of the originators and main supporters of the famous
league. Sainte Aldegonde was one of the most accomplished men of his
age. He was of ancient nobility, as he proved by an abundance of
historical and heraldic evidence, in answer to a scurrilous pamphlet in
which he had been accused, among other delinquencies, of having sprung
from plebeian blood. Having established his "extraction from true and
ancient gentlemen of Savoy, paternally and maternally," he rebuked his
assailants in manly strain. "Even had it been that I was without
nobility of birth," said he, "I should be none the less or more a
virtuous or honest man; nor can any one reproach me with having failed
in the point of honor or duty. What greater folly than to boast of the
virtue or gallantry of others, as do many nobles who, having neither a
grain of virtue in their souls nor a drop of wisdom in their brains, are
entirely useless to their country! Yet there are such men, who, because
their ancestors have done some valorous deed, think themselves fit to
direct the machinery of a whole country, having from their youth learned
nothing but to dance and to spin like weathercocks with their heads as
well as their heels." Certainly Sainte Aldegonde had learned other
lessons than these. He was one of the many-sided men who recalled
the symmetry of antique patriots. He was a poet of much vigor and
imagination; a prose writer whose style was surpassed by that of none
of his contemporaries, a diplomatist in whose tact and delicacy William
of Orange afterwards reposed in the most difficult and important
negotiations, an orator whose discourses on many great public occasions
attracted the attention of Europe, a soldier whose bravery was to be
attested afterwards on many a well-fought field, a theologian so skilful
in the polemics of divinity, that, as it will hereafter appear, he was
more than a match for a bench of bishops upon their own ground, and a
scholar so accomplished, that, besides speaking and writing the classical
and several modern languages with facility, he had also translated for
popular use the Psalms of David into vernacular verse, and at a very late
period of his life was requested by the states-general of the republic
to translate all the Scriptures, a work, the fulfilment of which was
prevented by his death. A passionate foe to the inquisition and to all
the abuses of the ancient Church, an ardent defender of civil liberty,
it must be admitted that he partook also of the tyrannical spirit of
Calvinism. He never rose to the lofty heights to which the spirit of the
great founder of the commonwealth was destined to soar, but denounced the
great principle of religious liberty for all consciences as godless.
He was now twenty-eight years of age, having been born in the same year
with his friend Louis of Nassau. His device, "Repos ailleurs," finely
typified the restless, agitated and laborious life to which he was
destined.
That other distinguished leader of the newly-formed league, Count Louis,
was a true knight of the olden time, the very mirror of chivalry.
Gentle, generous, pious; making use, in his tent before the battle,
of the prayers which his mother sent him from the home of his childhood,
--yet fiery in the field as an ancient crusader--doing the work of
general and soldier with desperate valor and against any numbers--
cheerful and steadfast under all reverses, witty and jocund in social
intercourse, animating with his unceasing spirits the graver and more
foreboding soul of his brother; he was the man to whom the eyes of the
most ardent among the Netherland Reformers were turned at this early
epoch, the trusty staff upon which the great Prince of Orange was to lean
till it was broken. As gay as Brederode, he was unstained by his vices,
and exercised a boundless influence over that reckless personage, who
often protested that he would "die a poor soldier at his feet." The
career of Louis was destined to be short, if reckoned by years, but if
by events, it was to attain almost a patriarchal length. At the age of
nineteen he had taken part in the battle of St. Quentin, and when once
the war of freedom opened, his sword was never to be sheathed. His days
were filled with life, and when he fell into his bloody but unknown
grave, he was to leave a name as distinguished for heroic valor and
untiring energy as for spotless integrity. He was small of stature, but
well formed; athletic in all knightly exercises, with agreeable features,
a dark laughing eye, close-clipped brown hair, and a peaked beard.
"Golden Fleece," as Nicholas de Hammes was universally denominated, was
the illegitimate scion of a noble house. He was one of the most active
of the early adherents to the league, kept the lists of signers in his
possession, and scoured the country daily to procure new confederates.
At the public preachings of the reformed religion, which soon after this
epoch broke forth throughout the Netherlands as by a common impulse, he
made himself conspicuous. He was accused of wearing, on such occasions,
the ensigns of the Fleece about his neck, in order to induce ignorant
people to believe that they might themselves legally follow, when they
perceived a member of that illustrious fraternity to be leading the way.
As De Hammer was only an official or servant of that Order, but not a
companion, the seduction of the lieges by such false pretenses was
reckoned among the most heinous of his offences. He was fierce in his
hostility to the government, and one of those fiery spirits whose
premature zeal was prejudicial to the cause of liberty, and disheartening
to the cautious patriotism of Orange. He was for smiting at once the
gigantic atrocity of the Spanish dominion, without waiting for the
forging of the weapons by which the blows were to be dealt. He forgot
that men and money were as necessary as wrath, in a contest with the most
tremendous despotism of the world. "They wish," he wrote to Count Louis,
"that we should meet these hungry wolves with remonstrances, using gentle
words, while they are burning and cutting off heads.--Be it so then. Let
us take the pen let them take the sword. For them deeds, for us words.
We shall weep, they will laugh. The Lord be praised for all; but I can
not write this without tears." This nervous language painted the
situation and the character of the writer.
As for Charles Mansfeld, he soon fell away from the league which he had
embraced originally with excessive ardor.
By the influence of the leaders many signatures were obtained during the
first two months of the year. The language of the document was such that
patriotic Catholics could sign it as honestly as Protestants. It
inveighed bitterly against the tyranny of "a heap of strangers," who,
influenced only by private avarice and ambition, were making use of an
affected zeal for the Catholic religion, to persuade the King into a
violation of his oaths. It denounced the refusal to mitigate the
severity of the edicts. It declared the inquisition, which it seemed
the intention of government to fix permanently upon them, as "iniquitous,
contrary to all laws, human and divine, surpassing the greatest barbarism
which was ever practised by tyrants, and as redounding to the dishonor of
God and to the total desolation of the country." The signers protested,
therefore, that "having a due regard to their duties as faithful vassals
of his Majesty, and especially, as noblemen--and in order not to be
deprived of their estates and their lives by those who, under pretext
of religion, wished to enrich themselves by plunder and murder," they had
bound themselves to each other by holy covenant and solemn oath to resist
the inquisition. They mutually promised to oppose it in every shape,
open or covert, under whatever mask, it might assume, whether bearing the
name of inquisition, placard, or edict, "and to extirpate and eradicate
the thing in any form, as the mother of all iniquity and disorder." They
protested before God and man, that they would attempt nothing to the
dishonor of the Lord or to the diminution of the King's grandeur,
majesty, or dominion. They declared, on the contrary, an honest purpose
to "maintain the monarch in his estate, and to suppress all seditious,
tumults, monopolies, and factions." They engaged to preserve their
confederation, thus formed, forever inviolable, and to permit none of
its members to be persecuted in any manner, in body or goods, by any
proceeding founded on the inquisition, the edicts, or the present league.
It will be seen therefore, that the Compromise was in its origin,
a covenant of nobles. It was directed against the foreign influence
by which the Netherlands were exclusively governed, and against the
inquisition, whether papal, episcopal, or by edict. There is no doubt
that the country was controlled entirely by Spanish masters, and that
the intention was to reduce the ancient liberty of the Netherlands into
subjection to a junta of foreigners sitting at Madrid. Nothing more
legitimate could be imagined than a constitutional resistance to such a
policy.
The Prince of Orange had not been consulted as to the formation of the
league. It was sufficiently obvious to its founders that his cautious
mind would find much to censure in the movement. His sentiments with
regard to the inquisition and the edicts were certainly known to all men.
In the beginning of this year, too, he had addressed a remarkable letter
to the Duchess, in answer to her written commands to cause the Council of
Trent, the inquisition, and the edicts, in accordance with the recent
commands of the King, to be published and enforced throughout his
government. Although his advice on the subject had not been asked,
he expressed his sense of obligation to speak his mind on the subject,
preferring the hazard of being censured for his remonstrance, to that
of incurring the suspicion of connivance at the desolation of the land
by his silence. He left the question of reformation in ecclesiastical
morals untouched, as not belonging to his vocation: As to the
inquisition, he most distinctly informed her highness that the hope
which still lingered in the popular mind of escaping the permanent
establishment of that institution, had alone prevented the utter
depopulation of the country, with entire subversion of its commercial
and manufacturing industry. With regard to the edicts, he temperately
but forcibly expressed the opinion that it was very hard to enforce those
placards now in their rigor, when the people were exasperated, and the
misery universal, inasmuch as they had frequently been modified on former
occasions. The King, he said, could gain nothing but difficulty for
himself, and would be sure to lose the affection of his subjects by
renewing the edicts, strengthening the inquisition, and proceeding to
fresh executions, at a time when the people, moved by the example of
their neighbors, were naturally inclined to novelty. Moreover, when by
reason of the daily increasing prices of grain a famine was impending
over the land, no worse moment could be chosen to enforce such a policy.
In conclusion, he observed that he was at all times desirous to obey the
commands of his Majesty and her Highness, and to discharge the duties of
"a good Christian." The use of the latter term is remarkable, as marking
an epoch in the history of the Prince's mind. A year before he would
have said a good Catholic, but it was during this year that his mind
began to be thoroughly pervaded by religious doubt, and that the great
question of the Reformation forced itself, not only as a political, but
as a moral problem upon him, which he felt that he could not much longer
neglect instead of solving.
Such were the opinions of Orange. He could not, however, safely
entrust the sacred interests of a commonwealth to such hands as those
of Brederode--however deeply that enthusiastic personage might drink
the health of "Younker William," as he affectionately denominated the
Prince--or to "Golden Fleece," or to Charles Mansfeld, or to that younger
wild boar of Ardennes, Robert de la Marck. In his brother and in Sainte
Aldegonde he had confidence, but he did not exercise over them that
control which he afterwards acquired. His conduct towards the
confederacy was imitated in the main by the other great nobles.
The covenanters never expected to obtain the signatures of such men
as Orange, Egmont, Horn, Meghen, Berghen, or Montigny, nor were those
eminent personages ever accused of having signed the Compromise, although
some of them were afterwards charged with having protected those who did
affix their names to the document. The confederates were originally
found among the lesser nobles. Of these some were sincere Catholics,
who loved the ancient Church but hated the inquisition; some were fierce
Calvinists or determined Lutherans; some were troublous and adventurous
spirits, men of broken fortunes, extravagant habits, and boundless
desires, who no doubt thought that the broad lands of the Church, with
their stately abbeys; would furnish much more fitting homes and revenues
for gallant gentlemen than for lazy monks. All were young, few had any
prudence or conduct, and the history of the league more than justified
the disapprobation of Orange. The nobles thus banded together, achieved
little by their confederacy. They disgraced a great cause by their
orgies, almost ruined it by their inefficiency, and when the rope of sand
which they had twisted fell asunder, the people had gained nothing and
the gentry had almost lost the confidence of the nation. These remarks
apply to the mass of the confederates and to some of the leaders. Louis
of Nassau and Sainte Aldegonde were ever honored and trusted as they
deserved.
Although the language of the Compromise spoke of the leaguers as nobles,
yet the document was circulated among burghers and merchants also, many
of whom, according to the satirical remark of a Netherland Catholic, may,
have been influenced by the desire of writing their names in such
aristocratic company, and some of whom were destined to expiate such
vainglory upon the scaffold.
With such associates, therefore, the profound and anxious mind of
Orange could have little in common. Confidence expanding as the numbers
increased, their audacity and turbulence grew with the growth of the
league. The language at their wild banquets was as hot as the wine
which confused their heads; yet the Prince knew that there was rarely
a festival in which there did not sit some calm, temperate Spaniard,
watching with quiet eye and cool brain the extravagant demeanor, and
listening with composure to the dangerous avowals or bravados of these
revellers, with the purpose of transmitting a record of their language
or demonstrations, to the inmost sanctuary of Philip's cabinet at Madrid.
The Prince knew, too, that the King was very sincere in his determination
to maintain the inquisition, however dilatory his proceedings might
appear. He was well aware that an armed force might be expected ere
long to support the royal edicts. Already the Prince had organized that
system of espionage upon Philip, by which the champion of his country was
so long able to circumvent its despot. The King left letters carefully
locked in his desk at night, and unseen hands had forwarded copies of
them to William of Orange before the morning. He left memoranda in his
pockets on retiring to bed, and exact transcripts of those papers found
their way, likewise, ere he rose, to the same watchman in the
Netherlands. No doubt that an inclination for political intrigue was a
prominent characteristic of the Prince, and a blemish upon the purity of
his moral nature. Yet the dissimulating policy of his age he had
mastered only that he might accomplish the noblest purposes to which a
great and good man can devote his life-the protection of the liberty and
the religion of a whole people against foreign tyranny. His intrigue
served his country, not a narrow personal ambition, and it was only by
such arts that he became Philip's master, instead of falling at once,
like so many great personages, a blind and infatuated victim. No doubt
his purveyors of secret information were often destined fearfully to
atone for their contraband commerce, but they who trade in treason must
expect to pay the penalty of their traffic.
Although, therefore, the great nobles held themselves aloof from the
confederacy, yet many of them gave unequivocal signs of their dissent
from the policy adopted by government. Marquis Berghen wrote to the
Duchess; resigning his posts, on the ground of his inability to execute
the intention of the King in the matter of religion. Meghen replied to
the same summons by a similar letter. Egmont assured her that he would
have placed his offices in the King's hands in Spain, could he have
foreseen that his Majesty would form such resolutions as had now been
proclaimed. The sentiments of Orange were avowed in the letter to
which we have already alluded. His opinions were shared by Montigny,
Culemburg, and many others. The Duchess was almost reduced to
desperation. The condition of the country was frightful. The most
determined loyalists, such as Berlaymont, Viglius and Hopper, advised
her not to mention the name of inquisition in a conference which she was
obliged to hold with a deputation from Antwerp. She feared, all feared,
to pronounce the hated word. She wrote despairing letters to Philip,
describing the condition of the land and her own agony in the gloomiest
colors. Since the arrival of the royal orders, she said, things had gone
from bad to worse. The King had been ill advised. It was useless to
tell the people that the inquisition had always existed in the provinces.
They maintained that it was a novelty; that the institution was a more
rigorous one than the Spanish Inquisition, which, said Margaret, "was
most odious, as the King knew." It was utterly impossible to carry the
edicts into execution. Nearly all the governors of provinces had told
her plainly that they would not help to burn fifty or sixty thousand
Netherlanders. Thus bitterly did Margaret of Parma bewail the royal
decree; not that she had any sympathy for the victims, but because she
felt the increasing danger to the executioner. One of two things it was
now necessary to decide upon, concession or armed compulsion. Meantime,
while Philip was slowly and secretly making his levies, his sister, as
well as his people, was on the rack. Of all the seigniors, not one was
placed in so painful a position as Egmont. His military reputation and
his popularity made him too important a personage to be slighted, yet he
was deeply mortified at the lamentable mistake which he had committed.
He now averred that he would never take arms against the King, but that
he would go where man should never see him more.
Such was the condition of the nobles, greater and less. That of the
people could not well be worse. Famine reigned in the land. Emigration,
caused not by over population, but by persecution, was fast weakening the
country. It was no wonder that not only, foreign merchants should be
scared from the great commercial cities by the approaching disorders; but
that every industrious artisan who could find the means of escape should
seek refuge among strangers, wherever an asylum could be found. That
asylum was afforded by Protestant England, who received these intelligent
and unfortunate wanderers with cordiality, and learned with eagerness the
lessons in mechanical skill which they had to teach. Already thirty
thousand emigrant Netherlanders were established in Sandwich, Norwich,
and other places, assigned to them by Elizabeth. It had always, however,
been made a condition of the liberty granted to these foreigners for
practising their handiwork, that each house should employ at least one
English apprentice. "Thus," said a Walloon historian, splenetically, "by
this regulation, and by means of heavy duties on foreign manufactures,
have the English built up their own fabrics and prohibited those of the
Netherlands. Thus have they drawn over to their own country our skilful
artisans to practise their industry, not at home but abroad, and our poor
people are thus losing the means of earning their livelihood. Thus has
clothmaking, silk-making and the art of dyeing declined in this country,
and would have been quite extinguished but by our wise countervailing
edicts." The writer, who derived most of his materials and his wisdom
from the papers of Councillor d'Assonleville, could hardly doubt that
the persecution to which these industrious artisans, whose sufferings he
affected to deplore, had been subjected, must have had something to do
with their expatriation; but he preferred to ascribe it wholly to the
protective system adopted by England. In this he followed the opinion of
his preceptor. "For a long time," said Assonleville, "the Netherlands
have been the Indies to England; and as long as she has them, she needs
no other. The French try to surprise our fortresses and cities: the
English make war upon our wealth and upon the purses of the people."
Whatever the cause, however, the current of trade was already turned.
The cloth-making of England was already gaining preponderance over that
of the provinces. Vessels now went every week from Sandwich to Antwerp,
laden with silk, satin, and cloth, manufactured in England, while as many
but a few years before, had borne the Flemish fabrics of the same nature
from Antwerp to England.
It might be supposed by disinterested judges that persecution was at the
bottom of this change in commerce. The Prince of Orange estimated that
up to this period fifty thousand persons in the provinces had been put to
death in obedience to the edicts. He was a moderate man, and accustomed
to weigh his words. As a new impulse had been given to the system of
butchery--as it was now sufficiently plain that "if the father had
chastised his people with a scourge the son held a whip of scorpions"
as the edicts were to be enforced with renewed vigor--it was natural that
commerce and manufactures should make their escape out of a doomed land
as soon as possible, whatever system of tariffs might be adopted by
neighboring nations.
A new step had been resolved upon early in the month of March by the
confederates. A petition, or "Request," was drawn up, which was to
be presented to the Duchess Regent in a formal manner by a large number
of gentlemen belonging to the league. This movement was so grave,
and likely to be followed by such formidable results, that it seemed
absolutely necessary for Orange and his friends to take some previous
cognizance of it before it was finally arranged. The Prince had no
power, nor was there any reason why he should have the inclination,
to prevent the measure, but he felt it his duty to do what he could
to control the vehemence of the men who were moving so rashly forward,
and to take from their manifesto, as much as possible, the character
of a menace.
For this end, a meeting ostensibly for social purposes and "good cheer"
was held, in the middle of March, at Breda, and afterwards adjourned
to Hoogstraaten. To these conferences Orange invited Egmont, Horn,
Hoogstraaten, Berghen, Meghen, Montigny, and other great nobles.
Brederode, Tholouse, Boxtel, and other members of the league, were also
present. The object of the Prince in thus assembling his own immediate
associates, governors of provinces and knights of the Fleece, as well as
some of the leading members of the league, was twofold. It had long been
his opinion that a temperate and loyal movement was still possible, by
which the impending convulsions might be averted. The line of policy
which he had marked out required the assent of the magnates of the land,
and looked towards the convocation of the states-general. It was natural
that he should indulge in the hope of being seconded by the men who were
in the same political and social station with himself. All, although
Catholics, hated the inquisition. As Viglius pathetically exclaimed,
"Saint Paul himself would have been unable to persuade these men that
good fruit was to be gathered from the inquisition in the cause of
religion." Saint Paul could hardly be expected to reappear on earth
for such a purpose. Meantime the arguments of the learned President had
proved powerless, either to convince the nobles that the institution was
laudable or to obtain from the Duchess a postponement in the publication
of the late decrees. The Prince of Orange, however, was not able to
bring his usual associates to his way of thinking. The violent purposes
of the leaguers excited the wrath of the more loyal nobles. Their
intentions were so dangerous, even in the estimation of the Prince
himself, that he felt it his duty to lay the whole subject before the
Duchess, although he was not opposed to the presentation of a modest
and moderate Request. Meghen was excessively indignant at the plan
of the confederates, which he pronounced an insult to the government,
a treasonable attempt to overawe the Duchess, by a "few wretched
vagabonds." He swore that "he would break every one of their heads,
if the King would furnish him with a couple of hundred thousand florins."
Orange quietly rebuked this truculent language, by assuring him both that
such a process would be more difficult than he thought, and that he would
also find many men of great respectability among the vagabonds.
The meeting separated at Hoogstraaten without any useful result, but it
was now incumbent upon the Prince, in his own judgment, to watch, and in
a measure to superintend, the proceedings of the confederates. By his
care the contemplated Request was much altered, and especially made more
gentle in its tone. Meghen separated himself thenceforth entirely from
Orange, and ranged himself exclusively upon the side of Government.
Egmont vacillated, as usual, satisfying neither the Prince nor the
Duchess.
Margaret of Parma was seated in her council chamber very soon after these
occurrences, attended both by Orange and Egmont, when the Count of Meghen
entered the apartment. With much precipitation, he begged that all
matters then before the board might be postponed, in order that he might
make an important announcement. He then stated that he had received
information from a gentleman on whose word he could rely, a very
affectionate servant of the King, but whose name he had promised not to
reveal, that a very extensive conspiracy of heretics and sectaries had
been formed, both within and without the Netherlands, that they had
already a force of thirty-five thousand men, foot and horse, ready for
action, that they were about to make a sudden invasion, and to plunder
the whole country, unless they immediately received a formal concession
of entire liberty of conscience, and that, within six or seven days,
fifteen hundred men-at-arms would make their appearance before her
Highness. These ridiculous exaggerations of the truth were confirmed by
Egmont, who said that he had received similar information from persons
whose names he was not at liberty to mention, but from whose statements
he could announce that some great tumult might be expected every day.
He added that there were among the confederates many who wished to change
their sovereign, and that the chieftains and captains of the conspiracy
were all appointed. The same nobleman also laid before the council a
copy of the Compromise, the terms of which famous document scarcely
justified the extravagant language with which it had been heralded. The
Duchess was astounded at these communications. She had already received,
but probably not yet read, a letter from the Prince of Orange upon the
subject, in which a moderate and plain statement of the actual facts was
laid down, which was now reiterated by the same personage by word of
mouth. An agitated and inconclusive debate followed, in which, however,
it sufficiently appeared, as the Duchess informed her brother, that one
of two things must be done without further delay. The time had arrived
for the government to take up arms, or to make concessions.
In one of the informal meetings of councillors, now held almost daily,
on the subject of the impending Request, Aremberg, Meghen, and Berlaymont
maintained that the door should be shut in the face of the petitioners
without taking any further notice of the petition. Berlaymont suggested
also, that if this course were not found advisable, the next best thing
would be to allow the confederates to enter the palace with their
Request, and then to cut them to pieces to the very last man, by means of
troops to be immediately ordered from the frontiers. Such sanguinary
projects were indignantly rebuked by Orange. He maintained that the
confederates were entitled to be treated with respect. Many of them,
he said, were his friends--some of them his relations--and there was no
reason for refusing to gentlemen of their rank, a right which belonged to
the poorest plebeian in the land. Egmont sustained these views of the
Prince as earnestly as he had on a previous occasion appeared to
countenance the more violent counsels of Meghen.
Meantime, as it was obvious that the demonstration on the part of the
confederacy was soon about to be made, the Duchess convened a grand
assembly of notables, in which not only all the state and privy
councillors, but all the governors and knights of the Fleece were to take
part. On the 28th of March, this assembly was held, at which the whole
subject of the Request, together with the proposed modifications of the
edicts and abolition of the inquisition, was discussed. The Duchess also
requested the advice of the meeting--whether it would not be best for her
to retire to some other city, like Mons, which she had selected as her
stronghold in case of extremity. The decision was that it would be a
high-handed proceeding to refuse the right of petition to a body of
gentlemen, many of them related to the greatest nobles in the land;
but it was resolved that they should be required to make their appearance
without arms. As to the contemplated flight of the Duchess, it was
urged, with much reason, that such a step would cast disgrace upon the
government, and that it would be a sufficiently precautionary measure to
strengthen the guards at the city gates--not to prevent the entrance of
the petitioners, but to see that they were unaccompanied by an armed
force. It had been decided that Count Brederode should present the
petition to the Duchess at the head of a deputation of about three
hundred gentlemen. The character of the nobleman thus placed foremost on
such an important occasion has been sufficiently made manifest. He had
no qualities whatever but birth and audacity to recommend him as a leader
for a political party. It was to be seen that other attributes were
necessary to make a man useful in such a position, and the Count's
deficiencies soon became lamentably conspicuous. He was the lineal
descendant and representative of the old Sovereign Counts of Holland.
Five hundred years before his birth; his ancestor Sikko, younger brother
of Dirk the Third, had died, leaving two sons, one of whom was the first
Baron of Brederode. A descent of five centuries in unbroken male
succession from the original sovereigns of Holland, gave him a better
genealogical claim to the provinces than any which Philip of Spain
could assert through the usurping house of Burgundy. In the approaching
tumults he hoped for an opportunity of again asserting the ancient honors
of his name. He was a sworn foe to Spaniards and to "water of the
fountain." But a short time previously to this epoch he had written
to Louis of Nassau, then lying ill of a fever, in order gravely to
remonstrate with him on the necessity of substituting wine for water on
all occasions, and it will be seen in the sequel that the wine-cup was
the great instrument on which he relied for effecting the deliverance of
the country. Although "neither bachelor nor chancellor," as he expressed
it, he was supposed to be endowed with ready eloquence and mother wit.
Even these gifts, however, if he possessed them, were often found wanting
on important emergencies. Of his courage there was no question, but he
was not destined to the death either of a warrior or a martyr. Headlong,
noisy, debauched, but brave, kind-hearted and generous, he was a fitting
representative of his ancestors, the hard-fighting, hard-drinking,
crusading, free-booting sovereigns of Holland and Friesland, and would
himself have been more at home and more useful in the eleventh century
than in the sixteenth.
It was about six o'clock in the evening, on the third day of April
(1566), that the long-expected cavalcade at last entered Brussels.
An immense concourse of citizens of all ranks thronged around the noble
confederates as soon as they made their appearance. They were about two
hundred in number, all on horseback, with pistols in their holsters,
and Brederode, tall, athletic, and martial in his bearing, with handsome
features and fair curling locks upon his shoulders, seemed an appropriate
chieftain for that band of Batavian chivalry.
The procession was greeted with frequent demonstrations of applause as it
wheeled slowly through the city till it reached the mansion of Orange
Nassau. Here Brederode and Count Louis alighted, while the rest of the
company dispersed to different quarters of the town.
"They thought that I should not come to Brussels," said Brederode, as he
dismounted. "Very well, here I am; and perhaps I shall depart in a
different manner." In the Course of the next day, Counts Culemburg and
Van den Berg entered the city with one hundred other cavaliers.
On the morning of the fifth of April, the confederates were assembled at
the Culemburg mansion, which stood on the square called the Sabon, within
a few minutes' walk of the palace. A straight handsome street led from
the house along the summit of the hill, to the splendid residence of the
ancient Dukes of Brabant, then the abode of Duchess Margaret. At a
little before noon, the gentlemen came forth, marching on foot, two by
two, to the number of three hundred. Nearly all were young, many of them
bore the most ancient historical names of their country, every one was
arrayed in magnificent costume. It was regarded as ominous, that the man
who led the procession, Philip de Bailleul, was lame. The line was
closed by Brederode and Count Louis, who came last, walking arm in arm.
An immense crowd was collected in the square in front of the palace, to
welcome the men who were looked upon as the deliverers of the land from
Spanish tyranny, from the Cardinalists, and from the inquisition. They
were received with deafening huzzas and clappings of hands by the
assembled populace. As they entered the council chamber, passing through
the great hall, where ten years before the Emperor had given away his
crowns, they found the Emperor's daughter seated in the chair of state,
and surrounded by the highest personages of the country. The emotion of
the Duchess was evident, as the procession somewhat abruptly made its
appearance; nor was her agitation diminished as she observed among the
petitioners many relatives and, retainers of the Orange and Egmont
houses, and saw friendly glances of recognition exchanged between them
and their chiefs.
As soon as all had entered the senate room, Brederode advanced, made a
low obeisance, and spoke a brief speech. He said that he had come
thither with his colleagues to present a humble petition to her Highness.
He alluded to the reports which had been rife, that they had contemplated
tumult, sedition, foreign conspiracies, and, what was more abominable
than all, a change of sovereign. He denounced such statements as
calumnies, begged the Duchess to name the men who had thus aspersed an
honorable and loyal company, and called upon her to inflict exemplary
punishment upon the slanderers. With these prefatory remarks he
presented the petition. The famous document was then read aloud.--Its
tone was sufficiently loyal, particularly in the preamble, which was
filled with protestations of devotion to both King and Duchess. After
this conventional introduction, however, the petitioners proceeded to
state, very plainly, that the recent resolutions of his Majesty, with
regard to the edict and the inquisition, were likely to produce a general
rebellion. They had hoped, they said, that a movement would be made by
the seigniors or by the estates, to remedy the evil by striking at its
cause, but they had waited in vain. The danger, on the other hand, was
augmenting every day, universal sedition was at the gate, and they had
therefore felt obliged to delay no longer, but come forward the first and
do their duty. They professed to do this with more freedom, because the
danger touched them very nearly. They were the most exposed to the
calamities which usually spring from civil commotions, for their, houses
and lands situate in the open fields, were exposed to the pillage of all
the world. Moreover there was not one of them, whatever his condition,
who was not liable at any moment to be executed under the edicts, at the
false complaint of the first man who wished to obtain his estate, and who
chose to denounce him to the inquisitor, at whose mercy were the lives
and property of all. They therefore begged the Duchess Regent to
despatch an envoy on their behalf, who should humbly implore his Majesty
to abolish the edicts. In the mean time they requested her Highness to
order a general surcease of the inquisition, and of all executions, until
the King's further pleasure was made known, and until new ordinances,
made by his Majesty with advice and consent of the states-general duly
assembled, should be established. The petition terminated as it had
commenced, with expressions of extreme respect and devoted loyalty.
The agitation of Duchess Margaret increased very perceptibly during the
reading of the paper. When it was finished, she remained for a few
minutes quite silent, with tears rolling down her cheeks. As soon as she
could overcome her excitement, she uttered a few words to the effect that
she would advise with her councillors and give the petitioners such
answer as should be found suitable. The confederates then passed out
from the council chamber into the grand hall; each individual, as he took
his departure, advancing towards the Duchess and making what was called
the "caracole," in token of reverence. There was thus ample time to
contemplate the whole company; and to count the numbers of the
deputation.
After this ceremony had been concluded, there was much earnest debate in.
the council. The Prince of Orange addressed a few words to the Duchess,
with the view of calming her irritation. He observed that the
confederates were no seditious rebels, but loyal gentlemen, well born,
well connected, and of honorable character. They had been influenced,
he said, by an honest desire to save their country from impending danger
--not by avarice or ambition. Egmont shrugged his shoulders, and
observed that it was necessary for him to leave the court for a season,
in order to make a visit to the baths of Aix, for an inflammation which
he had in the leg. It was then that Berlaymont, according to the account
which has been sanctioned by nearly every contemporary writer, whether
Catholic or Protestant, uttered the gibe which was destined to become
immortal, and to give a popular name to the confederacy. "What, Madam,"
he is reported to have cried in a passion, "is it possible that your
Highness can entertain fears of these beggars? (gueux). Is it not
obvious what manner of men they are? They have not had wisdom enough to
manage their own estates, and are they now to teach the King and your
Highness how to govern the country? By the living God, if my advice were
taken, their petition should have a cudgel for a commentary, and we would
make them go down the steps of the palace a great deal faster than they
mounted them."