Position of Orange--The interview at Dendermonde--The supposititious
letters of Alava--Views of Egmont--Isolation of Orange--Conduct of
Egmont and of Horn--Confederacy, of the nobles dissolved--Weak
behavior of prominent personages----Watchfulness of Orange--
Convocation of States General demanded--Pamphlet of Orange--City of
Valenciennes refuses a garrison--Influence of La Grange and De Bray
--City, declared in a state of siege--Invested by Noircarmes--
Movements to relieve the place--Calvinists defeated at Lannoy and at
Waterlots--Elation of the government--The siege pressed more
closely--Cruelties practised upon the country people--Courage of the
inhabitants--Remonstrance to the Knights of the Fleece--Conduct of
Brederode--Orange at Amsterdam--New Oath demanded by Government--
Orange refuses--He offers his resignation of all offices--Meeting at
Breda--New "Request" of Brederode--He creates disturbances and
levies troops in Antwerp--Conduct of Hoogstraaten--Plans of
Brederode--Supposed connivance of Orange--Alarm at Brussels--
Tholouse at Ostrawell--Brederode in Holland--De Beauvoir defeats
Tholouse--Excitement at Antwerp--Determined conduct of Orange--Three
days' tumult at Antwerp suppressed by the wisdom and courage of
Orange.
It is necessary to allude to certain important events contemporaneous
with those recorded in the last chapter, that the reader may thoroughly
understand the position of the leading personages in this great drama at
the close of the year 1566.
The Prince of Orange had, as we have seen, bean exerting all his energies
faithfully to accomplish the pacification of the commercial metropolis,
upon the basis assented to beforehand by the Duchess. He had established
a temporary religious peace, by which alone at that crisis the gathering
tempest could be averted; but he had permitted the law to take its course
upon certain rioters, who had been regularly condemned by courts of
justice. He had worked day and night--notwithstanding immense obstacles,
calumnious misstatements, and conflicting opinions--to restore order out
of chaos; he had freely imperilled his own life--dashing into a
tumultuous mob on one occasion, wounding several with the halberd which
he snatched from one of his guard, and dispersing almost with his single
arm a dangerous and threatening insurrection--and he had remained in
Antwerp, at the pressing solicitations of the magistracy, who represented
that the lives of not a single ecclesiastic would be safe as soon as his
back was turned, and that all the merchants would forthwith depart from
the city. It was nevertheless necessary that he should make a personal
visit to his government of Holland, where similar disorders had been
prevailing, and where men of all ranks and parties were clamoring for
their stadholder.
Notwithstanding all his exertions however, he was thoroughly aware of the
position in which he stood towards the government. The sugared phrases of
Margaret, the deliberate commendation of the "benign and debonair"
Philip, produced no effect upon this statesman, who was accustomed to
look through and through men's actions to the core of their hearts. In
the hearts of Philip and Margaret he already saw treachery and revenge
indelibly imprinted. He had been especially indignant at the insult which
the Duchess Regent had put upon him, by sending Duke Eric of Brunswick
with an armed force into Holland in order to protect Gouda, Woerden, and
other places within the Prince's own government. He was thoroughly
conversant with the general tone in which the other seigniors and himself
were described to their sovereign. He, was already convinced that the
country was to be conquered by foreign mercenaries, and that his own
life, with these of many other nobles, was to be sacrificed. The moment
had arrived in which he was justified in looking about him for means of
defence, both for himself and his country, if the King should be so
insane as to carry out the purposes which the Prince suspected. The time
was fast approaching in which a statesman placed upon such an elevation
before the world as that which he occupied, would be obliged to choose
his part for life. To be the unscrupulous tool of tyranny, a rebel, or an
exile, was his necessary fate. To a man so prone to read the future, the
moment for his choice seemed already arrived. Moreover, he thought it
doubtful, and events were most signally to justify his doubts, whether he
could be accepted as the instrument of despotism, even were he inclined
to prostitute himself to such service. At this point, therefore,
undoubtedly began the treasonable thoughts of William the Silent, if it
be treason to attempt the protection of ancient and chartered liberties
against a foreign oppressor. He despatched a private envoy to Egmont,
representing the grave suspicions manifested by the Duchess in sending
Duke Eric into Holland, and proposing that means should be taken into
consideration for obviating the dangers with which the country was
menaced. Catholics as well as Protestants, he intimated, were to be
crushed in one universal conquest as soon as Philip had completed the
formidable preparations which he was making for invading the provinces.
For himself, he said, he would not remain in the land to witness the
utter desolation of the people, nor to fall an unresisting victim to the
vengeance which he foresaw. If, however, he might rely upon the
co-operation of Egmont and Horn, he was willing, with the advice of the
states-general, to risk preparations against the armed invasion of
Spaniards by which the country was to be reduced to slavery. It was
incumbent, however, upon men placed as they were, "not to let the grass
grow under their feet;" and the moment for action was fast approaching.
This was the scheme which Orange was willing to attempt. To make use of
his own influence and that of his friends, to interpose between a
sovereign insane with bigotry, and a people in a state of religious
frenzy, to resist brutal violence if need should be by force, and to
compel the sovereign to respect the charters which he had sworn to
maintain, and which were far more ancient than his sovereignty; so much
of treason did William of Orange already contemplate, for in no other way
could he be loyal to his country and his own honor.
Nothing came of this secret embassy, for Egmont's heart and fate were
already fixed. Before Orange departed, however; for the north, where his
presence in the Dutch provinces was now imperatively required, a
memorable interview took place at Dendermonde between Orange, Horn,
Egmont, Hoogstraaten, and Count Louis. The nature of this conference was
probably similar to that of the secret mission from Orange to Egmont just
recorded. It was not a long consultation. The gentlemen met at eleven
o'clock, and conversed until dinner was ready, which was between twelve
and one in the afternoon. They discussed the contents of a letter
recently received by Horn from his brother Montigny at Segovia, giving a
lively picture of Philip's fury at the recent events in the Netherlands,
and expressing the Baron's own astonishment and indignation that it had
been impossible for the seigniors to prevent such outrages as the public
preaching, the image-breaking and the Accord. They had also some
conversation concerning the dissatisfaction manifested by the Duchess at
the proceedings of Count Horn at Tournay, and they read a very remarkable
letter which had been furnished them, as having been written by the
Spanish envoy in Paris, Don Francis of Alava, to Margaret of Parma. This
letter was forged. At least the Regent, in her Italian correspondence,
asserted it to be fictitious, and in those secret letters to Philip she
usually told the truth. The astuteness of William of Orange had in this
instance been deceived. The striking fidelity, however, with which the
present and future policy of the government was sketched, the accuracy
with which many unborn events were foreshadowed, together with the minute
touches which gave an air of genuineness to the fictitious despatch,
might well deceive even so sagacious an observer as the Prince.
The letters alluded to the deep and long-settled hostility of Philip to
Orange, Horn, and Egmont, as to a fact entirely within the writer's
knowledge, and that of his correspondent, but urged upon the Duchess the
assumption of an extraordinary degree of apparent cordiality in her
intercourse with them. It was the King's intention to use them and to
destroy them, said the writer, and it was the Regent's duty to second the
design. "The tumults and troubles have not been without their secret
concurrence," said the supposititious Alava, "and your Highness may rest
assured that they will be the first upon whom his Majesty will seize, not
to confer benefits, but to chastise them as they deserve. Your Highness,
however, should show no symptom of displeasure, but should constantly
maintain in their minds the idea that his Majesty considers them as the
most faithful of his servants. While they are persuaded of this, they can
be more easily used, but when the time comes, they will be treated in
another manner. Your Highness may rest assured that his Majesty is not
less inclined than your Highness that they should receive the punishment
which they merit." The Duchess was furthermore recommended "to deal with
the three seigniors according to the example of the Spanish Governments
in its intercourse with the envoys, Bergen and Montigny, who are met with
a smiling face, but who are closely watched, and who will never be
permitted to leave Spain alive." The remainder of the letter alludes to
supposed engagements between France and Spain for the extirpation of
heresy, from which allusion to the generally accepted but mistaken notion
as to the Bayonne conference, a decided proof seems to be furnished that
the letter was not genuine. Great complaints, however, are made, as to
the conduct of the Queen Regent, who is described as "a certain lady well
known to her Highness, and as a person without faith, friendship, or
truth; the most consummate hypocrite in the world." After giving
instances of the duplicity manifested by Catherine de Medici, the writer
continues: "She sends her little black dwarf to me upon frequent errands,
in order that by means of this spy she may worm out my secrets. I am,
however, upon my guard, and flatter myself that I learn more from him
than she from me. She shall never be able to boast of having deceived a
Spaniard."
An extract or two from this very celebrated document seemed
indispensable, because of the great importance attached to it, both at
the Dendermonde Conference, and at the trials of Egmont and Horn. The
contemporary writers of Holland had no doubt of its genuineness, and what
is more remarkable, Strada, the historiographer of the Farnese family,
after quoting Margaret's denial of the authenticity of the letter, coolly
observes: "Whether this were only an invention of the conspirators, or
actually a despatch from Alava, I shall not decide. It is certain,
however, that the Duchess declared it to be false."
Certainly, as we read the epistles, and observe how profoundly the writer
seems to have sounded the deep guile of the Spanish Cabinet, and how
distinctly events, then far in the future, are indicated, we are tempted
to exclaim: "aut Alava, aut Diabolus;" either the envoy wrote the
despatch, or Orange. Who else could look into the future, and into
Philip's heart so unerringly?
As the charge has never been made, so far as we are aware, against the
Prince, it is superfluous to discuss the amount of immorality which
should belong to such a deception. A tendency to employ stratagem in his
warfare against Spain was, no doubt, a blemish upon his--high character.
Before he is condemned, however, in the Court of Conscience, the
ineffable wiles of the policy with which he had to combat must be
thoroughly scanned, as well as the pure and lofty purpose for which his
life's long battle was fought.
There was, doubtless, some conversation at Dendermonde on the propriety
or possibility of forcible resistance to a Spanish army, with which it
seemed probable that Philip was about to invade the provinces, and take
the lives of the leading nobles. Count Louis was in favor of making
provision in Germany for the accomplishment of this purpose. It is also
highly probable that the Prince may have encouraged the proposition. In
the sense of his former communication to Egmont, he may have reasoned on
the necessity of making levies to sustain the decisions of the
states-general against violence. There is, however, no proof of any such
fact. Egmont, at any rate, opposed the scheme, on the ground that "it was
wrong to entertain any such ill opinion of so good a king as Philip, that
he had never done any thing unjust towards his subjects, and that if any
one was in fear, he had better leave the country."
Egmont, moreover; doubted the authenticity of the letters from Alava, but
agreed to carry them to Brussels, and to lay them before the Regent. That
lady, when she saw them, warmly assured the Count that they were
inventions.
The Conference broke up after it had lasted an hour and a half. The
nobles then went to dinner, at which other persons appear to have been
present, and the celebrated Dendermonde meeting was brought to a close.
After the repast was finished, each of the five nobles mounted his horse,
and departed on his separate way.
From this time forth the position of, these leading seigniors became more
sharply defined. Orange was left in almost complete isolation. Without
the assistance of Egmont, any effective resistance to the impending
invasion from Spain seemed out of the question. The Count, however, had
taken his irrevocable and fatal resolution. After various oscillations
during the stormy period which had elapsed, his mind, notwithstanding all
the disturbing causes by which it had hitherto been partially influenced,
now pointed steadily to the point of loyalty. The guidance of that pole
star was to lead him to utter shipwreck. The unfortunate noble,
entrenched against all fear of Philip by the brazen wall of an easy
conscience; saw no fault in his past at which he should grow pale with
apprehension. Moreover, he was sanguine by nature, a Catholic in
religion, a royalist from habit and conviction. Henceforth he was
determined that his services to the crown should more than counterbalance
any idle speeches or insolent demonstrations of which he might have been
previously guilty.
Horn pursued a different course, but one which separated him also from
the Prince, while it led to the same fate which Egmont was blindly
pursuing.--The Admiral had committed no act of treason. On the contrary,
he had been doing his best, under most difficult circumstances, to avert
rebellion and save the interests of a most ungrateful sovereign. He was
now disposed to wrap himself in his virtue, to retreat from a court life,
for which he had never felt a vocation, and to resign all connection with
a government by which he felt himself very badly, treated. Moody,
wrathful, disappointed, ruined, and calumniated, he would no longer keep
terms with King or Duchess. He had griefs of long standing against the
whole of the royal family. He had never forgiven the Emperor for refusing
him, when young, the appointment of chamberlain. He had served Philip
long and faithfully, but he had never received a stiver of salary or
"merced," notwithstanding all his work as state councillor, as admiral,
as superintendent in Spain; while his younger brother had long been in
receipt of nine or ten thousand florins yearly. He had spent four hundred
thousand florins in the King's service; his estates were mortgaged to
their full value; he had been obliged to sell, his family plate. He had
done his best in Tourney to serve the Duchess, and he had averted the
"Sicilian vespers," which had been imminent at his arrival. He had saved
the Catholics from a general massacre, yet he heard nevertheless from
Montigny, that all his actions were distorted in Spain, and his motives
blackened. His heart no longer inclined him to continue in Philip's
service, even were he furnished with the means of doing so. He had
instructed his secretary, Alonzo de la Loo, whom he had despatched many
months previously to Madrid, that he was no longer to press his master's
claims for a "merced," but to signify that he abandoned all demands and
resigned all posts. He could turn hermit for the rest of his days, as
well as the Emperor Charles. If he had little, he could live upon little.
It was in this sense that he spoke to Margaret of Parma, to Assonleville,
to all around him. It was precisely in this strain and temper that he
wrote to Philip, indignantly defending his course at Tourney, protesting
against the tortuous conduct of the Duchess, and bluntly declaring that
he would treat no longer with ladies upon matters which concerned a man's
honor.
Thus, smarting under a sense of gross injustice, the Admiral expressed
himself in terms which Philip was not likely to forgive. He had
undertaken the pacification of Tournay, because it was Montigny's
government, and he had promised his services whenever they should be
requisite. Horn was a loyal and affectionate brother, and it is pathetic
to find him congratulating Montigny on being, after all, better off in
Spain than in the Netherlands. Neither loyalty nor the sincere
Catholicism for which Montigny at this period commended Horn in his
private letters, could save the two brothers from the doom which was now
fast approaching.
Thus Horn, blind as Egmont--not being aware that a single step beyond
implicit obedience had created an impassable gulf between Philip and
himself--resolved to meet his destiny in sullen retirement. Not an
entirely disinterested man, perhaps, but an honest one, as the world
went, mediocre in mind, but brave, generous, and direct of purpose,
goaded by the shafts of calumny, hunted down by the whole pack which
fawned upon power as it grew more powerful, he now retreated to his
"desert," as he called his ruined home at Weert, where he stood at bay,
growling defiance at the Regent, at Philip, at all the world.
Thus were the two prominent personages upon whose co-operation Orange had
hitherto endeavored to rely, entirely separated from him. The confederacy
of nobles, too, was dissolved, having accomplished little,
notwithstanding all its noisy demonstrations, and having lost all credit
with the people by the formal cessation of the Compromise in consequence
of the Accord of August. As a body, they had justified the sarcasm of
Hubert Languet, that "the confederated nobles had ruined their country by
their folly and incapacity." They had profaned a holy cause by indecent
orgies, compromised it by seditious demonstrations, abandoned it when
most in need of assistance. Bakkerzeel had distinguished himself by
hanging sectaries in Flanders. "Golden Fleece" de Hammes, after creating
great scandal in and about Antwerp, since the Accord, had ended by
accepting an artillery commission in the Emperor's army, together with
three hundred crowns for convoy from Duchess Margaret. Culemburg was
serving the cause of religious freedom by defacing the churches within
his ancestral domains, pulling down statues, dining in chapels and giving
the holy wafer to his parrot. Nothing could be more stupid than these
acts of irreverence, by which Catholics were offended and honest patriots
disgusted. Nothing could be more opposed to the sentiments of Orange,
whose first principle was abstinence by all denominations of Christians
from mutual insults. At the same time, it is somewhat revolting to
observe the indignation with which such offences were regarded by men of
the most abandoned character. Thus, Armenteros, whose name was synonymous
with government swindling, who had been rolling up money year after year,
by peculations, auctioneering of high posts in church and state, bribes,
and all kinds of picking and stealing, could not contain his horror as he
referred to wafers eaten by parrots, or "toasted on forks" by renegade
priests; and poured out his emotions on the subject into the faithful
bosom of Antonio Perez, the man with whose debaucheries, political
villanies, and deliberate murders all Europe was to ring.
No doubt there were many individuals in the confederacy for whom it was
reserved to render honorable service in the national cause. The names of
Louis Nassau, Mamix of St. Aldegonde, Bernard de Merode, were to be
written in golden letters in their country's rolls; but at this moment
they were impatient, inconsiderate, out of the control of Orange. Louis
was anxious for the King to come from Spain with his army, and for "the
bear dance to begin." Brederode, noisy, bawling, and absurd as ever, was
bringing ridicule upon the national cause by his buffoonery, and
endangering the whole people by his inadequate yet rebellious exertions.
What course was the Prince of Orange to adopt? He could find no one to
comprehend his views. He felt certain at the close of the year that the
purpose of the government was fixed. He made no secret of his
determination never to lend himself as an instrument for the contemplated
subjugation of the people. He had repeatedly resigned all his offices. He
was now determined that the resignation once for all should be accepted.
If he used dissimulation, it was because Philip's deception permitted no
man to be frank. If the sovereign constantly disavowed all hostile
purposes against his people, and manifested extreme affection for the men
whom he had already doomed to the scaffold, how could the Prince openly
denounce him? It was his duty to save his country and his friends from
impending ruin. He preserved, therefore, an attitude of watchfulness.
Philip, in the depth of his cabinet, was under a constant inspection by
the sleepless Prince. The sovereign assured his sister that her
apprehensions about their correspondence was groundless. He always locked
up his papers, and took the key with him. Nevertheless, the key was taken
out of his pocket and the papers read. Orange was accustomed to observe,
that men of leisure might occupy themselves with philosophical pursuits
and with the secrets of nature, but that it was his business to study the
hearts of kings. He knew the man and the woman with whom he had to deal.
We have seen enough of the policy secretly pursued by Philip and Margaret
to appreciate the accuracy with which the Prince, groping as it were in
the dark, had judged the whole situation. Had his friends taken his
warnings, they might have lived to render services against tyranny. Had
he imitated their example of false loyalty, there would have been one
additional victim, more illustrious than all the rest, and a whole
country hopelessly enslaved.
It is by keeping these considerations in view, that we can explain his
connection with such a man as Brederode. The enterprises of that noble,
of Tholouse, and others, and the resistance of Valenciennes, could hardly
have been prevented even by the opposition of the Prince. But why should
he take the field against men who, however rashly or ineffectually, were
endeavoring to oppose tyranny, when he knew himself already proscribed
and doomed by the tyrant? Such loyalty he left to Egmont. Till late in
the autumn, he had still believed in the possibility of convoking the
states-general, and of making preparations in Germany to enforce their
decrees.
The confederates and sectaries had boasted that they could easily raise
an army of sixty thousand men within the provinces,--that twelve hundred
thousand florins monthly would be furnished by the rich merchants of
Antwerp, and that it was ridiculous to suppose that the German
mercenaries enrolled by the Duchess in Saxony, Hesse, and other
Protestant countries, would ever render serious assistance against the
adherents of the reformed religion. Without placing much confidence in
such exaggerated statements, the Prince might well be justified in
believing himself strong enough, if backed by the confederacy, by Egmont,
and by his own boundless influence, both at Antwerp and in his own
government, to sustain the constituted authorities of the nation even
against a Spanish army, and to interpose with legitimate and irresistible
strength between the insane tyrant and the country which he was preparing
to crush. It was the opinion of the best informed Catholics that, if
Egmont should declare for the confederacy, he could take the field with
sixty thousand men, and make himself master of the whole country at a
blow. In conjunction with Orange, the moral and physical force would have
been invincible.
It was therefore not Orange alone, but the Catholics and Protestants
alike, the whole population of the country, and the Duchess Regent
herself, who desired the convocation of the estates. Notwithstanding
Philip's deliberate but secret determination never to assemble that body,
although the hope was ever to be held out that they should be convened,
Margaret had been most importunate that her brother should permit the
measure. "There was less danger," she felt herself compelled to say, "in
assembling than in not assembling the States; it was better to preserve
the Catholic religion for a part of the country, than to lose it
altogether." "The more it was delayed," she said, "the more ruinous and
desperate became the public affairs. If the measure were postponed much
longer, all Flanders, half Brabant, the whole of Holland, Zeland,
Gueldrea, Tournay, Lille, Mechlin, would be lost forever, without a
chance of ever restoring the ancient religion." The country, in short,
was "without faith, King, or law," and nothing worse could be apprehended
from any deliberation of the states-general. These being the opinions of
the Duchess, and according to her statement those of nearly all the good
Catholics in the country, it could hardly seem astonishing or treasonable
that the Prince should also be in favor of the measure.
As the Duchess grew stronger, however, and as the people, aghast at the
fate of Tournay and Valenciennes, began to lose courage, she saw less
reason for assembling the states. Orange, on the other hand, completely
deserted by Egmont and Horn, and having little confidence in the
characters of the ex-confederates, remained comparatively quiescent but
watchful.
At the close of the year, an important pamphlet from his hand was
circulated, in which his views as to the necessity of allowing some
degree of religious freedom were urged upon the royal government with his
usual sagacity of thought, moderation of language, and modesty in tone.
The man who had held the most important civil and military offices in the
country almost from boyhood, and who was looked up to by friend and foe
as the most important personage in the three millions of its inhabitants,
apologized for his "presumption" in coming forward publicly with his
advice. "I would not," he said, "in matters of such importance, affect to
be wiser or to make greater pretensions than my age or experience
warrants, yet seeing affairs in such perplexity, I will rather incur the
risk of being charged with forwardness than neglect that which I consider
my duty."
This, then, was the attitude of the principal personages in the
Netherlands, and the situation of affairs at the end of the eventful year
1566, the last year of peace which the men then living or their children
were to know. The government, weak at the commencement, was strong at the
close. The confederacy was broken and scattered. The Request, the beggar
banquets, the public preaching, the image-breaking, the Accord of August,
had been followed by reaction. Tournay had accepted its garrison. Egmont,
completely obedient to the crown, was compelling all the cities of
Flanders and Artois to receive soldiers sufficient to maintain implicit
obedience, and to extinguish all heretical demonstrations, so that the
Regent was at comparative leisure to effect the reduction of
Valenciennes.
This ancient city, in the province of Hainault, and on the frontier of
France, had been founded by the Emperor Valentinian, from whom it had
derived its name. Originally established by him as a city of refuge, it
had received the privilege of affording an asylum to debtors, to outlaws,
and even to murderers. This ancient right had been continued, under
certain modifications, even till the period with which we are now
occupied. Never, however, according to the government, had the right of
asylum, even in the wildest times, been so abused by the city before.
What were debtors, robbers, murderers, compared to heretics? yet these
worst enemies of their race swarmed in the rebellious city, practising
even now the foulest rites of Calvin, and obeying those most pestilential
of all preachers, Guido de Bray, and Peregrine de la Grange. The place
was the hot-bed of heresy and sedition, and it seemed to be agreed, as by
common accord, that the last struggle for what was called the new
religion, should take place beneath its walls.
Pleasantly situated in a fertile valley, provided with very strong
fortifications and very deep moats, Valenciennes, with the Scheld flowing
through its centre, and furnishing the means of laying the circumjacent
meadows under water, was considered in those days almost impregnable. The
city was summoned, almost at the same time as Tournay, to accept a
garrison. This demand of government was met by a peremptory refusal.
Noircarmes, towards the middle of December, ordered the magistrates to
send a deputation to confer with him at Conde. Pensionary Outreman
accordingly repaired to that neighboring city, accompanied by some of his
colleagues. This committee was not unfavorable to the demands of
government. The magistracies of the cities, generally, were far from
rebellious; but in the case of Valenciennes the real power at that moment
was with the Calvinist consistory, and the ministers. The deputies, after
their return from Conde, summoned the leading members of the reformed
religion, together with the preachers. It was urged that it was their
duty forthwith to use their influence in favor of the demand made by the
government upon the city.
"May I grow mute as a fish!" answered de la Grange, stoutly, "may the
tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, before I persuade my people to
accept a garrison of cruel mercenaries, by whom their rights of
conscience are to be trampled upon!"
Councillor Outreman reasoned with the fiery minister, that if he and his
colleague were afraid of their own lives, ample provision should be made
with government for their departure under safe conduct. La Grange replied
that he had no fears for himself, that the Lord would protect those who
preached and those who believed in his holy word, but that He would not
forgive them should they now bend their necks to His enemies.
It was soon very obvious that no arrangement could be made. The
magistrates could exert no authority, the preachers were all-powerful;
and the citizens, said a Catholic inhabitant of Valenciennes, "allowed
themselves to be led by their ministers like oxen." Upon the 17th
December, 1566, a proclamation was accordingly issued by the Duchess
Regent, declaring the city in a state of siege, and all its inhabitants
rebels. The crimes for which this penalty was denounced, were elaborately
set forth in the edict. Preaching according to the reformed religion had
been permitted in two or three churches, the sacrament according to the
Calvinistic manner had been publicly administered, together with a
renunciation by the communicants of their adhesion to the Catholic
Church, and now a rebellious refusal to receive the garrison sent to them
by the Duchess had been added to the list of their iniquities. For
offences like these the Regent deemed it her duty to forbid all
inhabitants of any city, village, or province of the Netherlands holding
communication with Valenciennes, buying or selling with its inhabitants,
or furnishing them with provisions; on pain of being considered
accomplices in their rebellion, and as such of being executed with the
halter.
The city was now invested by Noircarmes with all the troops which could
be spared. The confederates gave promises of assistance to the
beleaguered citizens, Orange privately encouraged them to holdout in
their legitimate refusal. Brederode and others busied themselves with
hostile demonstrations which were destined to remain barren; but in the
mean time the inhabitants had nothing to rely upon save their own stout
hearts and arms.
At first, the siege was sustained with a light heart. Frequent sallies
were made, smart skirmishes were ventured, in which the Huguenots, on the
testimony of a most bitter Catholic contemporary, conducted themselves
with the bravery of veteran troops, and as if they had done nothing all
their lives but fight; forays were made upon the monasteries of the
neighborhood for the purpose of procuring supplies, and the broken
statues of the dismantled churches were used to build a bridge across an
arm of the river, which was called in derision the Bridge of Idols.
Noircarmes and the six officers under him, who were thought to be
conducting their operations with languor, were christened the Seven
Sleepers. Gigantic spectacles, three feet in circumference, were planted
derisively upon the ramparts, in order that the artillery, which it was
said that the papists of Arras were sending, might be seen, as soon as it
should arrive. Councillor Outreman, who had left the city before the
siege, came into it again, on commission from Noircarmes. He was received
with contempt, his proposals on behalf of the government were answered
with outcries of fury; he was pelted with stones, and was very glad to
make his escape alive. The pulpits thundered with the valiant deeds of
Joshua, Judas Maccabeus, and other bible heroes. The miracles wrought in
their behalf served to encourage the enthusiasm of the people, while the
movements making at various points in the neighborhood encouraged a hope
of a general rising throughout the country.
Those hopes were destined to disappointment. There were large assemblages
made, to be sure, at two points. Nearly three thousand sectaries had been
collected at Lannoy under Pierre Comaille, who, having been a locksmith
and afterwards a Calvinist preacher, was now disposed to try his fortune
as a general. His band was, however, disorderly. Rustics armed with
pitchforks, young students and old soldiers out of employment, furnished
with rusty matchlocks, pikes and halberds, composed his force. A company
similar in character, and already amounting to some twelve hundred in
number, was collecting at Waterlots. It was hoped that an imposing array
would soon be assembled, and that the two bands, making a junction, would
then march to the relief of Valenciennes. It was boasted that in a very
short time, thirty thousand men would be in the field. There was even a
fear of some such result felt by the Catholics.