nine months. It was also the most brilliant of all; for the burghers, as
if to make amends to the Archduke for the actual nullity to which he had
been reduced, seemed resolved to raise him to the seventh heaven of
allegory. By the rhetorical guilds he was regarded as the most brilliant
constellation of virtues which had yet shone above the Flemish horizon.
A brilliant cavalcade, headed by Orange, accompanied by Count John of
Nassau, the Prince de Chimay and other notables, met him at Vilvoorde,
and escorted him to the city gate. On an open field, outside the town,
Count Bossu had arranged a review of troops, concluding with a sham-
fight, which, in the words of a classical contemporary, seemed as "bloody
a rencontre as that between Duke Miltiades of Athens and King Darius upon
the plains of Attics." The procession entered the Louvain gate, through
a splendid triumphal arch, filled with a band of invisible musicians.
"I believe that Orpheus had never played so melodiously on his harp,"
says the same authority, "nor Apollo on his lyre, nor Pan on his lute, as
the city waits then performed." On entering the gates, Matthias was at
once delivered over to the hands of mythology, the burghers and
rhetoricians taking possession of their illustrious captive, and being
determined to outdo themselves in demonstrations of welcome. The
representatives of the "nine nations" of Brussels met him in the Ritter-
street, followed by a gorgeous retinue. Although it was mid-day, all
bore flaming torches. Although it was January, the streets were strewed
with flowers. The houses were festooned with garlands, and hung with
brilliant silks and velvets. The streets were thronged with spectators,
and encumbered with triumphal arches. On the Grande Place always the
central scene in Brussels, whether for comedies, or tournaments, or
executions, the principal dramatic effects had been accumulated. The
splendid front of the Hotel de Ville was wreathed with scarfs and
banners; its windows and balconies, as well as those of the picturesque
houses which formed the square, were crowded with gaily-dressed women.
Upon the area of the place, twenty-four theatres had been erected, where
a aeries of magnificent living pictures were represented by the most
beautiful young females that could be found in the city. All were
attired in brocades, embroideries, and cloth of gold. The subjects of
the tableaux vivants were, of course, most classic, for the Netherlanders
were nothing, if not allegorical; yet, as spectacles, provided by
burghers and artisans for the amusement of their fellow-citizens, they
certainly proved a considerable culture in the people who could thus be
amused. All the groups were artistically arranged. Upon one theatre
stood Juno with her peacock, presenting Matthias with the city of
Brussels, which she held, beautifully modelled, in her hand. Upon
another, Cybele gave him the keys, Reason handed him a bridle, Hebe a
basket of flowers, Wisdom a looking-glass and two law books, Diligence a
pair of spurs; while Constancy, Magnanimity, Prudence, and other virtues,
furnished him with a helmet; corslet, spear, and shield. Upon other
theatres, Bellona presented him with several men-at-arms, tied in a
bundle; Fame gave him her trumpet, and Glory her crown. Upon one stage
Quintus Curtius, on horseback, was seen plunging into the yawning abyss;
upon six others Scipio Africanus was exhibited, as he appeared in the
most picturesque moments of his career. The beardless Archduke had never
achieved anything, save his nocturnal escape from Vienna in his night-
gown; but the honest Flemings chose to regard him as a re-incarnation of
those two eminent Romans. Carried away by their own learning, they
already looked upon him as a myth; and such indeed he was destined to
remain throughout his Netherland career. After surveying all these
wonders, Matthias was led up the hill again to the ducal palace, where,
after hearing speeches and odes till he was exhausted, he was at last
allowed to eat his supper and go to bed.
Meantime the citizens feasted in the streets. Bonfires were blazing
everywhere, at which the people roasted "geese, pigs, capons, partridges,
and chickens," while upon all sides were the merriest piping and dancing.
Of a sudden, a fiery dragon was seen flying through the air. It poised
for a while over the heads of the revelling crowd in the Grande Place,
and then burst with a prodigious explosion, sending forth rockets and
other fireworks in every direction. This exhibition, then a new one,
so frightened the people, that they all took to their heels, "as if a
thousand soldiers had assaulted them," tumbling over each other in great
confusion, and so dispersing to their homes.
The next day Matthias took the oaths as Governor-General, to support the
new constitution, while the Prince of Orange was sworn in as Lieutenant-
General and Governor of Brabant. Upon the next a splendid banquet was
given them in the grand ball of the Hotel de Ville, by the states-
general, and when the cloth was removed, Rhetoric made her last and most
ingenious demonstration, through the famous guild of "Mary with the
Flower Garland."
Two individuals--the one attired as a respectable burgher; the other as a
clerical personage in gown and bands-made their appearance upon a stage,
opposite the seats of their Highnesses, and pronounced a long dialogue in
rhyme. One of the speakers rejoiced in the appellation of the "Desiring
Heart," the other was called "Common Comfort." Common Sense might have
been more to the purpose, but appeared to have no part in the play.
Desiring Heart, being of an inquisitive disposition, propounded a series
of puzzling questions, mythological in their nature, which seemed like
classical conundrums, having reference, mainly, to the proceedings of
Venus, Neptune, Juno, and other divinities. They appeared to have little
to do with Matthias or the matter in hand, but Common Comfort knew
better. That clerical personage, accordingly, in a handsome allowance of
rhymes, informed his despairing colleague that everything would end well;
that Jupiter, Diana, Venus, and the rest of them would all do their duty,
and that Belgica would be relieved from all her woes, at the advent of a
certain individual. Whereupon cried Desiring Heart,
Oh Common Comfort who is he?
His name, and of what family?
To which Comfort responded by mentioning the Archduke, in a poetical and
highly-complimentary strain, with handsome allusions to the inevitable
Quintus Curtius and Scipio Africanus. The concluding words of the speech
were not spoken, but were taken as the cue for a splendid charade; the
long-suffering Scipio again making his appearance, in company with
Alexander and Hannibal; the group typifying the future government of
Matthias. After each of these, heroic individuals had spouted a hundred
lines or so, the play was terminated, and Rhetoric took her departure.
The company had remained at table during this long representation, and
now the dessert was served, consisting of a "richly triumphant banquet of
confectionary, marmalade, and all kinds of genteelnesses in sugar."
Meanwhile, Don John sat chafing and almost frenzied with rage at Namur.
Certainly he had reasons enough for losing his temper. Never since the
days of Maximilian had king's brother been so bearded by rebels. The
Cross was humbled in the dust, the royal authority openly derided, his
Majesty's representative locked up in a fortress, while "the accursed
Prince of Orange" reigned supreme in Brussels, with an imperial Archduke
for his private secretary.
The Governor addressed a long, private, and most bitter letter to the
Emperor, for the purpose of setting himself right in the opinion of that
potentate, and of giving him certain hints as to what was expected of the
imperial court by Philip and himself. He expressed confidence that the
imperial commissioners would have some effect in bringing about the
pacification of the Netherlands, and protested his own strong desire for
such a result, provided always that the two great points of the Catholic
religion and his Majesty's authority were preserved intact. "In the hope
that those articles would be maintained," said he, "I have emptied cities
and important places of their garrisons, when I might easily have kept
the soldiers, and with the soldiers the places, against all the world,
instead of consigning them to the care of men who at this hour have arms
in their hand against their natural prince." He declared vehemently that
in all his conduct, since his arrival in the provinces, he had been
governed exclusively by the interests of Philip, an object which he
should steadily pursue to the end. He urged, too, that the Emperor,
being of the same house as Philip, and therefore more obliged than all
others to sustain his quarrel, would do well to espouse his cause with
all the warmth possible. "The forgetfulness by vassals," said Don John,
"of the obedience due to their sovereign is so dangerous, that all princes
and potentates, even those at the moment exempt from trouble; should
assist in preparing the remedy, in order that their subjects also may not
take it into their heads to do the like, liberty being a contagious
disease, which goes on infecting one neighbour after another, if the cure
be not promptly applied." It was, he averred, a desperate state of
things for monarchs, when subjects having obtained such concessions as
the Netherlanders had obtained, nevertheless loved him and obeyed him so
little. They showed, but too clearly, that the causes alleged by them
had been but pretexts, in order to effect designs, long ago conceived,
to overthrow the ancient constitution of the country, and to live
thenceforward in unbridled liberty. So many indecent acts had been
committed prejudicial to religion and to his Majesty's grandeur, that the
Governor avowed his, determination to have no farther communication with
the provinces without fresh commands to that effect. He begged the
Emperor to pay no heed to what the states said, but to observe what they
did. He assured him that nothing could be more senseless than the
reports that Philip and his Governor-General in the Netherlands were
negotiating with France, for the purpose of alienating the provinces from
the Austrian crown. Philip, being chief of the family, and sovereign of
the Netherlands, could not commit the absurdity of giving away his own
property to other people, nor would Don John choose to be an instrument
in so foolish a transaction. The Governor entreated the Emperor,
therefore, to consider such fables as the invention of malcontents and
traitors, of whom there were no lack at his court, and to remember that
nothing was more necessary for the preservation of the greatness of his
family than to cultivate the best relations with all its members.
"Therefore," said he, with an absurd affectation of candor, "although I
make no doubt whatever that the expedition hitherwards of the Archduke
Matthias has been made with the best intentions; nevertheless, many are
of opinion that it would have been better altogether omitted. If the
Archduke," he continued, with hardly dissembled irony, "be desirous of
taking charge of his Majesty's affairs, it would be preferable to employ
himself in the customary manner. Your Majesty would do a laudable action
by recalling him from this place, according to your Majesty's promise to
me to that effect." In conclusion, Don John complained that difficulties
had been placed in his way for making levies of troops in the Empire,
while every facility had been afforded to the rebels. He therefore
urgently insisted that so unnatural and unjust a condition of affairs
should be remedied.
Don John was not sorry in his heart that the crisis was at last come.
His chain was broken. His wrath exploded in his first interview with
Leyton, the English envoy, whom Queen Elizabeth had despatched to calm,
if possible, his inevitable anger at her recent treaty with the states.
He knew nothing of England, he said, nor of France, nor of the Emperor.
His Catholic Majesty had commissioned him now to make war upon these
rebellious provinces. He would do it with all his heart. As for the
Emperor, he would unchain the Turks upon him for his perfidy. As for the
burghers of Brussels, they would soon feel his vengeance.
It was very obvious that these were not idle threats. War had again
broken loose throughout these doomed provinces. A small but well-
appointed army had been rapidly collecting under the banner of Don John
at Luxemburg, Peter Ernest Mansfeld had brought many well-trained troops
from France, and Prince Alexander of Parma had arrived with several
choice and veteran regiments of Italy and Spain. The old schoolfellow,
playmate and comrade of Don John, was shocked-on his arrival, to witness
the attenuated frame and care-worn features of his uncle. The son of
Charles the Fifth, the hero of Lepanto, seemed even to have lost the air
of majesty which was so natural to him, for petty insults, perpetual
crosses, seemed to have left their squalid traces upon his features.
Nevertheless, the crusader was alive again, at the notes of warlike
preparations which now resounded throughout the land.
On the 25th of January he issued a proclamation, couched in three
languages--French, German, and Flemish. He declared in this document
that he had not come to enslave the provinces, but to protect them. At
the same time he meant to re-establish his Majesty's authority, and the
down-trod religion of Rome. He summoned all citizens and all soldiers
throughout the provinces to join his banners, offering them pardon for
their past offences, and protection against heretics and rebels. This
declaration was the natural consequence of the exchange of defiances
which had already taken place, and it was evident also that the angry
manifesto was soon to be followed up by vigorous blows. The army of Don
John already numbered more than twenty thousand well-seasoned and
disciplined veterans. He was himself the most illustrious chieftain in
Europe. He was surrounded by lieutenants cf the most brilliant
reputation. Alexander of Parma, who had fought with distinction at
Lepanto, was already recognised as possessing that signal military genius
which was soon to stamp him as the first soldier of his age, while
Mansfeld, Mondragon, Mendoza, and other distinguished officers, who had
already won so much fame in the Netherlands, had now returned to the
scene of their former achievements.
On the other hand, the military affairs of the states were in confusion.
Troops in nearly equal numbers to those of the royal army had been
assembled, but the chief offices had been bestowed, by a mistaken policy,
upon the great nobles. Already the jealousy of Orange, entertained by
their whole order was painfully apparent. Notwithstanding the signal
popularity which had made his appointment as Lieutenant-general
inevitable it was not easy for him always to vindicate his authority
over captious and rival magnates. He had every wish to conciliate the
affections of men whom he could not in his heart respect, and he went
as far in gratifying their ambition as comported with his own dignity;
perhaps farther than was consistent with the national interests. He was
still willing to trust Lalain, of whose good affection to the country
he felt sure. Re had even been desirous of declining the office of
Lieutenant-General, in order to avoid giving that nobleman the least
occasion to think "that he would do him, or any other gentleman of the
army, prejudice in any single matter in the world." This magnanimity
had, not been repaid with corresponding confidence. We have already seen
that Lalain had been secretly in the interest of Anjou ever since his
wife and himself had lost their hearts to Margaret of Navarre; yet the
Count was chief commander of the infantry in the states' army then
assembled. Robert Melun, Vicomte de Gand, was commander of the cavalry,
but he had recently been private envoy from Don John to the English
Queen. Both these gentlemen, together with Pardieu De la Motte, general
of the artillery, were voluntarily absent from the forces, under pretext
of celebrating the wedding of the Seigneur De Bersel with the niece and
heiress of the unfortunate Marquis of Bergen. The ghost of that ill-
starred noble might almost have seemed to rise at the nuptial banquet of
his heiress, to warn the traitors of the signal and bloody massacre which
their treachery was soon to occasion. Philip Egmont, eldest son of the
famous Lamoral, was with the army, as was the Seigneur de Heze, hero of
the State Council's arrest, and the unstable Havre. But little was to be
hoped from such leaders. Indeed, the affairs of the states continued to
be in as perplexed a condition as that which honest John of Nassau had
described some weeks before. "There were very few patriots," he had
said, "but plenty of priests, with no lack of inexperienced lads--some
looking for distinction, and others for pelf."
The two armies had been mustered in the latter days of January. The Pope
had issued a bull for the benefit of Don John, precisely similar to those
formerly employed in the crusades against the Saracens. Authority was
given him to levy contributions upon ecclesiastical property, while full
absolution, at the hour of death, for all crimes committed during a whole
lifetime, was proclaimed to those who should now join the standard of
the Cross. There was at least no concealment. The Crescent-wearing
Zealanders had been taken at their word, and the whole nation of
Netherlanders were formally banned as unbelievers. The forces of Don
John were mustered at Marche in Luxemburg; those of the states in a plain
within a few miles of Namur. Both armies were nearly equal in number,
amounting to nearly twenty thousand each, including a force of two
thousand cavalry on each side. It had been the original intention of the
patriots to attack Don John in Namur. Having learned, however, that he
purposed marching forth himself to offer battle, they decided to fall
back upon Gemblours, which was nine miles distant from that city. On the
last day of January, they accordingly broke up their camp at Saint
Martius, before dawn, and marched towards Gemblours. The chief commander
was De Goignies, an old soldier of Charles the Fifth, who had also fought
at Saint Quintin. The states' army was disposed in three divisions. The
van consisted of the infantry regiments of De Heze and Montigny, flanked
by a protective body of light horse. The centre, composed of the Walloon
and German regiments, with a few companies of French, and thirteen
companies of Scotch and English under Colonel Balfour, was commanded by
two most distinguished officers, Bossu and Champagny. The rear, which,
of course, was the post of responsibility and honor, comprised all the
heavy cavalry, and was commanded by Philip Egmont and Lumey de la Marck.
The Marquis Havre and the General-in-chief, Goignies, rode to and fro,
as the army proceeded, each attended by his staff. The troops of Don
John broke up from before Namur with the earliest dawn, and marched in
pursuit of the retiring foe. In front was nearly the whole of the
cavalry-carabineers, lancers, and heavy dragoons. The centre, arranged
in two squares, consisted chiefly of Spanish infantry, with a lesser
number of Germans. In the rear came the Walloons, marching also in a
square, and protecting the baggage and ammunition. Charles Mansfeld had
been left behind with a reserved force, stationed on the Meuse; Ottavio
Gonzaga commanded in front, Ernest Mansfeld brought up the rear; while in
the centre rode Don John himself, attended by the Prince of Parma. Over
his head streamed the crucifix-emblazoned banner, with its memorable
inscription--In hoc signo vici Turcos, in hoc Haereticos vincam.
Small detachments of cavalry had been sent forward; under Olivera and
Acosta, to scour the roads and forests, and to disturb all ambuscades
which might have been prepared. From some stragglers captured by these
officers, the plans of the retreating generals were learned. The
winter's day was not far advanced, when the rearward columns of the
states' army were descried in the distance. Don John, making a selection
of some six hundred cavalry, all picked men, with a thousand infantry,
divided the whole into two bodies, which he placed under command of
Gonzaga and the famous old Christopher Mondragon. These officers
received orders to hang on the rear of the enemy, to harass him, and to
do him all possible damage consistent with the possibility of avoiding a
general engagement, until the main army under Parma and Don John should
arrive. The orders were at first strictly obeyed. As the skirmishing
grew hotter, however, Goazaga observed that a spirited cavalry officer,
named Perotti, had already advanced, with a handful of men, much further
within the reach of the hostile forces than was deemed expedient. He
sent hastily to recal the too eager chieftain. The order, delivered in a
tone more peremptory than agreeable, was flatly disobeyed. "Tell Ottavio
Gonzaga," said Perotti, "that I never yet turned my back on the enemy,
nor shall I now begin. Moreover, were I ever so much inclined to do so,
retreat is impossible." The retiring army was then proceeding along the
borders of a deep ravine, filled with mire and water, and as broad and
more dangerous than a river. In the midst of the skirmishing, Alexander
of Parma rode up to reconnoitre. He saw at once that the columns of the
enemy were marching unsteadily to avoid being precipitated into this
creek. He observed the waving of their spears, the general confusion of
their ranks, and was quick to take advantage of the fortunate moment.
Pointing out to the officers about him the opportunity thus offered of
attacking the retiring army unawares in flank, he assembled, with great
rapidity, the foremost companies of cavalry already detached from the
main body. Mounting a fresh and powerful horse, which Camillo Monte held
in readiness for him, he signified his intention of dashing through the
dangerous ravine, and dealing a stroke where it was least expected, "Tell
Don John of Austria," he cried to an officer whom he sent back to the
Commander-in-chief, "that Alexander of Parma has plunged into the abyss,
to perish there, or to come-forth again victorious."