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 arbitary 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 lie 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 supeirior 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.