CHAPTER II. 1560-1561

Agitation in the Netherlands--The ancient charters resorted to as

barriers against the measures of government--"Joyous entrance" of

Brabant--Constitution of Holland--Growing unpopularity of Antony

Perrenot, Archbishop of Mechlin--Opposition to the new bishoprics,

by Orange, Egmont, and other influential nobles--Fury of the people

at the continued presence of the foreign soldiery--Orange resigns

the command of the legion--The troops recalled--Philip's personal

attention to the details of persecution--Perrenot becomes Cardinal

de Granvelle--All the power of government in his hands--His

increasing unpopularity--Animosity and violence of Egmont towards

the Cardinal--Relations between Orange and Granvelle--Ancient

friendship gradually changing to enmity--Renewal of the magistracy

at Antwerp--Quarrel between the Prince and Cardinal--Joint letter of

Orange and Egmont to the King--Answer of the King--Indignation of

Philip against Count Horn--Secret correspondence between the King

and Cardinal--Remonstrances against the new bishoprics--Philip's

private financial statements--Penury of the exchequer in Spain and

in the provinces--Plan for debasing the coin--Marriage of William

the Silent with the Princess of Lorraine circumvented--Negotiations

for his matrimonial alliance with Princess Anna of Saxony--

Correspondence between Granvelle and Philip upon the subject--

Opposition of Landgrave Philip and of Philip the Second--Character

and conduct of Elector Augustus--Mission of Count Schwartzburg--

Communications of Orange to the King and to Duchess Margaret--

Characteristic letter of Philip--Artful conduct of Granvelle and of

the Regent--Visit of Orange to Dresden--Proposed "note" of Elector

Augustus--Refusal of the Prince--Protest of the Landgrave against

the marriage--Preparations for the wedding at Leipzig--Notarial

instrument drawn up on the marriage day--Wedding ceremonies and

festivities--Entrance of Granvelle into Mechlin as Archbishop--

Compromise in Brabant between the abbeys and bishops.

The years 1560 and 1561 were mainly occupied with the agitation and

dismay produced by the causes set forth in the preceding chapter.

Against the arbitrary policy embodied in the edicts, the new bishoprics

and the foreign soldiery, the Netherlanders appealed to their ancient

constitutions. These charters were called "handvests" in the vernacular

Dutch and Flemish, because the sovereign made them fast with his hand. As

already stated, Philip had made them faster than any of the princes of

his house had ever done, so far as oath and signature could accomplish

that purpose, both as hereditary prince in 1549, and as monarch in 1555.

The reasons for the extensive and unconditional manner in which he swore

to support the provincial charters, have been already indicated.

Of these constitutions, that of Brabant, known by the title of the

'joyeuse entree, blyde inkomst', or blithe entrance, furnished the most

decisive barrier against the present wholesale tyranny. First and

foremost, the "joyous entry" provided "that the prince of the land should

not elevate the clerical state higher than of old has been customary and

by former princes settled; unless by consent of the other two estates,

the nobility and the cities."

Again; "the prince can prosecute no one of his subjects nor any foreign

resident, civilly or criminally, except in the ordinary and open courts

of justice in the province, where the accused may answer and defend

himself with the help of advocates."

Further; "the prince shall appoint no foreigners to office in Brabant."

Lastly; "should the prince, by force or otherwise, violate any of these

privileges, the inhabitants of Brabant, after regular protest entered,

are discharged of their oaths of allegiance, and as free, independent and

unbound people, may conduct themselves exactly as seems to them best."

Such were the leading features, so far as they regarded the points now at

issue, of that famous constitution which was so highly esteemed in the

Netherlands, that mothers came to the province in order to give birth to

their children, who might thus enjoy, as a birthright, the privileges of

Brabant. Yet the charters of the other provinces ought to have been as

effective against the arbitrary course of the government. "No foreigner,"

said the constitution of Holland, "is eligible as, councillor, financier,

magistrate, or member of a court. Justice can be administered only by the

ordinary tribunals and magistrates. The ancient laws and customs shall

remain inviolable. Should the prince infringe any of these provisions, no

one is bound to obey him."

These provisions, from the Brabant and Holland charters, are only cited

as illustrative of the general spirit of the provincial constitutions.

Nearly all the provinces possessed privileges equally ample, duly signed

and sealed. So far as ink and sealing wax could defend a land against

sword and fire, the Netherlands were impregnable against the edicts and

the renewed episcopal inquisition. Unfortunately, all history shows how

feeble are barriers of paper or lambskin, even when hallowed with a

monarch's oath, against the torrent of regal and ecclesiastical

absolutism. It was on the reception in the provinces of the new and

confirmatory Bull concerning the bishoprics, issued in January, 1560,

that the measure became known, and the dissatisfaction manifest. The

discontent was inevitable and universal. The ecclesiastical establishment

which was not to be enlarged or elevated but by consent of the estates,

was suddenly expanded into three archiepiscopates and fifteen bishoprics.

The administration of justice, which was only allowed in free and local

courts, distinct for each province, was to be placed, so far as regarded

the most important of human interests, in the hands of bishops and their

creatures, many of them foreigners and most of them monks. The lives and

property of the whole population were to be at the mercy of these utterly

irresponsible conclaves. All classes were outraged. The nobles were

offended because ecclesiastics, perhaps foreign ecclesiastics, were to be

empowered to sit in the provincial estates and to control their

proceedings in place of easy, indolent, ignorant abbots and friars, who

had generally accepted the influence of the great seignors. The priests

were enraged because the religious houses were thus taken out of their

control and confiscated to a bench of bishops, usurping the places of

those superiors who had formally been elected by and among themselves.

The people were alarmed because the monasteries, although not respected

nor popular, were at least charitable and without ambition to exercise

ecclesiastical cruelty; while, on the other hand, by the new episcopal

arrangements, a force of thirty new inquisitors was added to the

apparatus for enforcing orthodoxy already established. The odium of the

measure was placed upon the head of that churchman, already appointed

Archbishop of Mechlin, and soon to be known as Cardinal Granvelle. From

this time forth, this prelate began to be regarded with a daily

increasing aversion. He was looked upon as the incarnation of all the

odious measures which had been devised; as the source of that policy of

absolutism which revealed itself more and more rapidly after the King's

departure from the country. It was for this reason that so much stress

was laid by popular clamor upon the clause prohibiting foreigners from

office. Granvelle was a Burgundian; his father had passed most of his

active life in Spain, while both he and his more distinguished son were

identified in the general mind with Spanish politics. To this prelate,

then, were ascribed the edicts, the new bishoprics, and the continued

presence of the foreign troops. The people were right as regarded the

first accusation. They were mistaken as to the other charges.

The King had not consulted Anthony Perrenot with regard to the creation

of the new bishoprics. The measure, which had been successively

contemplated by Philip "the Good," by Charles the Bold, and by the

Emperor Charles, had now been carried out by Philip the Second, without

the knowledge of the new Archbishop of Mechlin. The King had for once

been able to deceive the astuteness of the prelate, and had concealed

from him the intended arrangement, until the arrival of Sonnius with the

Bulls. Granvelle gave the reasons for this mystery with much simplicity.

"His Majesty knew," he said, "that I should oppose it, as it was more

honorable and lucrative to be one of four than one of eighteen." In fact,

according to his own statement, he lost money by becoming archbishop of

Mechlin, and ceasing to be Bishop of Arras. For these reasons he

declined, more than once, the proffered dignity, and at last only

accepted it from fear of giving offence to the King, and after having

secured compensation for his alleged losses. In the same letter (of 29th

May, 1560) in which he thanked Philip for conferring upon him the rich

abbey of Saint Armand, which he had solicited, in addition to the

"merced" in ready money, concerning the safe investment of which he had

already sent directions, he observed that he was now willing to accept

the archbishopric of Mechlin; notwithstanding the odium attached to the

measure, notwithstanding his feeble powers, and notwithstanding that,

during the life of the Bishop of Tournay, who was then in rude health, he

could only receive three thousand ducats of the revenue, giving up Arras

and gaining nothing in Mechlin; notwithstanding all this, and a thousand

other things besides, he assured his Majesty that, "since the royal

desire was so strong that he should accept, he would consider nothing so

difficult that he would not at least attempt it." Having made up his mind

to take the see and support the new arrangements, he was resolved that

his profits should be as large as possible. We have seen how he had

already been enabled to indemnify himself. We shall find him soon

afterwards importuning the King for the Abbey of Afflighem, the enormous

revenue of which the prelate thought would make another handsome addition

to the rewards of his sacrifices. At the same time, he was most anxious

that the people, and particularly the great nobles, should not ascribe

the new establishment to him, as they persisted in doing. "They say that

the episcopates were devised to gratify my ambition," he wrote to Philip

two years later; "whereas your Majesty knows how steadily I refused the

see of Mechlin, and that I only accepted it in order not to live in

idleness, doing nothing for God and your Majesty." He therefore

instructed Philip, on several occasions, to make it known to the

government of the Regent, to the seignors, and to the country generally,

that the measure had been arranged without his knowledge; that the

Marquis Berghen had known of it first, and that the prelate had, in

truth, been kept in the dark on the subject until the arrival of Sonnius

with the Bulls. The King, always docile to his minister, accordingly

wrote to the Duchess the statements required, in almost the exact

phraseology suggested; taking pains to repeat the declarations on several

occasions, both by letter and by word of mouth, to many influential

persons.

The people, however, persisted in identifying the Bishop with the scheme.

They saw that he was the head of the new institutions; that he was to

receive the lion's share of the confiscated abbeys, and that he was

foremost in defending and carrying through the measure, in spite of all

opposition. That opposition waxed daily more bitter, till the Cardinal,

notwithstanding that he characterised the arrangement to the King as "a

holy work," and warmly assured Secretary Perez that he would contribute

his fortune, his blood, and his life, to its success, was yet obliged to

exclaim in the bitterness of his spirit, "Would to God that the erection

of these new sees had never been thought of. Amen! Amen!"

Foremost in resistance was the Prince of Orange. Although a Catholic, he

had no relish for the horrible persecution which had been determined

upon. The new bishoprics he characterized afterwards as parts "of one

grand scheme for establishing the cruel inquisition of Spain; the said

bishops to serve as inquisitors, burners of bodies; and tyrants of

conscience: two prebendaries in each see being actually constituted

inquisitors." For this reason he omitted no remonstrance on the subject

to the Duchess, to Granvelle, and by direct letters to the King. His

efforts were seconded by Egmont, Berghen, and other influential nobles.

Even Berlaymont was at first disposed to side with the opposition, but

upon the argument used by the Duchess, that the bishoprics and prebends

would furnish excellent places for his sons and other members of the

aristocracy, he began warmly to support the measure. Most of the labor,

however, and all the odium, of the business fell upon the Bishop's

shoulders. There was still a large fund of loyalty left in the popular

mind, which not even forty years of the Emperor's dominion had consumed,

and which Philip was destined to draw upon as prodigally as if the

treasure had been inexhaustible. For these reasons it still seemed most

decorous to load all the hatred upon the minister's back, and to retain

the consolatory formula, that Philip was a prince, "clement, benign, and

debonair."

The Bishop, true to his habitual conviction, that words, with the people,

are much more important than things, was disposed to have the word

"inquisitor" taken out of the text of the new decree. He was anxious at

this juncture to make things pleasant, and he saw no reason why men

should be unnecessarily startled. If the inquisition could be practised,

and the heretics burned, he was in favor of its being done comfortably.

The word "inquisitor" was unpopular, almost indecent. It was better to

suppress the term and retain the thing. "People are afraid to speak of

the new bishoprics," he wrote to Perez, "on account of the clause

providing that of nine canons one shall be inquisitor. Hence people fear

the Spanish inquisition."--He, therefore, had written to the King to

suggest instead, that the canons or graduates should be obliged to assist

the Bishop, according as he might command. Those terms would suffice,

because, although not expressly stated, it was clear that the Bishop was

an ordinary inquisitor; but it was necessary to expunge words that gave

offence.

It was difficult, however, with all the Bishop's eloquence and dexterity,

to construct an agreeable inquisition. The people did not like it, in any

shape, and there were indications, not to be mistaken, that one day there

would be a storm which it would be beyond human power to assuage. At

present the people directed their indignation only upon a part of the

machinery devised for their oppression. The Spanish troops were

considered as a portion of the apparatus by which the new bishoprics and

the edicts were to be forced into execution. Moreover, men were, weary of

the insolence and the pillage which these mercenaries had so long

exercised in the land. When the King had been first requested to withdraw

them, we have seen that he had burst into a violent passion. He had

afterward dissembled. Promising, at last, that they should all be sent

from the country within three or four months after his departure, he had

determined to use every artifice to detain them in the provinces. He had

succeeded, by various subterfuges, in keeping them there fourteen months;

but it was at last evident that their presence would no longer be

tolerated. Towards the close of 1560 they were quartered in Walcheren and

Brill. The Zelanders, however, had become so exasperated by their

presence that they resolutely refused to lay a single hand upon the

dykes, which, as usual at that season, required great repairs. Rather

than see their native soil profaned any longer by these hated foreign

mercenaries, they would see it sunk forever in the ocean. They swore to

perish-men, women, and children together-in the waves, rather than endure

longer the outrages which the soldiery daily inflicted. Such was the

temper of the Zelanders that it was not thought wise to trifle with their

irritation. The Bishop felt that it was no longer practicable to detain

the troops, and that all the pretext devised by Philip and his government

had become ineffectual. In a session of the State Council, held on the

25th October, 1560, he represented in the strongest terms to the Regent

the necessity for the final departure of the troops. Viglius, who knew

the character of his countrymen, strenuously seconded the proposal.

Orange briefly but firmly expressed the same opinion, declining any

longer to serve as commander of the legion, an office which, in

conjunction with Egmont, he had accepted provisionally, with the best of

motives, and on the pledge of Philip that the soldiers should be

withdrawn. The Duchess urged that the order should at least be deferred

until the arrival of Count Egmont, then in Spain, but the proposition was

unanimously negatived.

Letters were accordingly written, in the name of the Regent, to the King.

It was stated that the measure could no longer be delayed, that the

provinces all agreed in this point, that so long as the foreigners

remained not a stiver should be paid into the treasury; that if they had

once set sail, the necessary amount for their arrears would be furnished

to the government; but that if they should return it was probable that

they would be resisted by the inhabitants with main force, and that they

would only be allowed to enter the cities through a breach in their wall.

It was urged, moreover, that three or four thousand Spaniards would not

be sufficient to coerce all the provinces, and that there was not money

enough in the royal exchequer to pay the wages of a single company of the

troops. "It cuts me to the heart," wrote the Bishop to Philip, "to see

the Spanish infantry leave us; but go they must. Would to God that we

could devise any pretext, as your Majesty desires, under which to keep

them here! We have tried all means humanly possible for retaining them,

but I see no way to do it without putting the provinces in manifest

danger of sudden revolt."

Fortunately for the dignity of the government, or for the repose of the

country, a respectable motive was found for employing the legion

elsewhere. The important loss which Spain had recently met with in the

capture of Zerby made a reinforcement necessary in the army engaged in

the Southern service. Thus, the disaster in Barbary at last relieved the

Netherlands of the pest which had afflicted them so long. For a brief

breathing space the country was cleared of foreign mercenaries.

The growing unpopularity of the royal government, still typified,

however, in the increasing hatred entertained for the Bishop, was not

materially diminished by the departure of the Spaniards. The edicts and

the bishoprics were still there, even if the soldiers were gone. The

churchman worked faithfully to accomplish his master's business. Philip,

on his side, was industrious to bring about the consummation of his

measures. Ever occupied with details, the monarch, from his palace in

Spain, sent frequent informations against the humblest individuals in the

Netherlands. It is curious to observe the minute reticulations of tyranny

which he had begun already to spin about a whole, people, while cold,

venomous, and patient he watched his victims from the centre of his web.

He forwarded particular details to the Duchess and Cardinal concerning a

variety of men and women, sending their names, ages, personal appearance,

occupations, and residence, together with directions for their immediate

immolation. Even the inquisitors of Seville were set to work to increase,

by means of their branches or agencies in the provinces, the royal

information on this all-important subject. "There are but few of us left

in the world," he moralized in a letter to the Bishop, "who care for

religion. 'Tis necessary, therefore, for us to take the greater heed for

Christianity. We must lose our all, if need be, in order to do our duty;

in fine," added he, with his usual tautology, "it is right that a man

should do his duty."

Granvelle--as he must now be called, for his elevation to the

cardinalship will be immediately alluded to--wrote to assure the King

that every pains would be taken to ferret out and execute the individuals

complained of. He bewailed, however, the want of heartiness on the part

of the Netherland inquisitors and judges. "I find," said he, "that all

judicial officers go into the matter of executing the edicts with

reluctance, which I believe is caused by their fear of displeasing the

populace. When they do act they do it but languidly, and when these

matters are not taken in hand with the necessary liveliness, the fruit

desired is not gathered. We do not fail to exhort and to command them to

do their work." He added that Viglius and Berlaymont displayed laudable

zeal, but that he could not say as much for the Council of Brabant. Those

councillors "were forever prating," said he, "of the constitutional

rights of their province, and deserved much less commendation."

The popularity of the churchman, not increased by these desperate

exertions to force an inhuman policy upon an unfortunate nation, received

likewise no addition from his new elevation in rank. During the latter

part of the year 1560, Margaret of Parma, who still entertained a

profound admiration of the prelate, and had not yet begun to chafe under

his smooth but imperious dominion, had been busy in preparing for him a

delightful surprise. Without either his knowledge or that of the King,

she had corresponded with the Pope, and succeeded in obtaining, as a

personal favor to herself, the Cardinal's hat for Anthony Perrenot. In

February, 1561, Cardinal Borromeo wrote to announce that the coveted

dignity had been bestowed. The Duchess hastened, with joyous alacrity, to

communicate the intelligence to the Bishop, but was extremely hurt to

find that he steadily refused to assume his new dignity, until he had

written to the King to announce the appointment, and to ask his

permission to accept the honor. The Duchess, justly wounded at his

refusal to accept from her hands the favor which she, and she only, had

obtained for him, endeavored in vain to overcome his pertinacity. She

represented that although Philip was not aware of the application or the

appointment, he was certain to regard it as an agreeable surprise. She

urged, moreover, that his temporary refusal would be misconstrued at

Rome, where it would certainly excite ridicule, and very possibly give

offence in the highest quarter. The Bishop was inexorable. He feared,

says his panegyrist, that he might one day be on worse terms than at

present with the Duchess, and that then she might reproach him with her

former benefits. He feared also that the King might, in consequence of

the step, not look with satisfaction upon him at some future period, when

he might stand in need of his favors. He wrote, accordingly, a most

characteristic letter to Philip, in which he informed him that he had

been honored with the Cardinal's hat. He observed that many persons were

already congratulating him, but that before he made any demonstration of

accepting or refusing, he waited for his Majesty's orders: upon his will

he wished ever to depend. He also had the coolness, under the

circumstances, to express his conviction that "it was his Majesty who had

secretly procured this favor from his Holiness."

The King received the information very graciously, observing in reply,

that although he had never made any suggestion of the kind, he had "often

thought upon the subject." The royal command was of course at once

transmitted, that the dignity should be accepted. By special favor,

moreover, the Pope dispensed the new Cardinal from the duty of going to

Rome in person, and despatched his chamberlain, Theophilus Friso, to

Brussels, with the red hat and tabbard.

The prelate, having thus reached the dignity to which he had long

aspired, did not grow more humble in his deportment, or less zealous in

the work through which he had already gained so much wealth and

preferment. His conduct with regard to the edicts and bishoprics had

already brought him into relations which were far from amicable with his

colleagues in the council. More and more he began to take the control of

affairs into his own hand. The consulta, or secret committee of the state

council, constituted the real government of the country. Here the most

important affairs were decided upon without the concurrence of the other

seignors, Orange, Egmont, and Glayon, who, at the same time, were held

responsible for the action of government. The Cardinal was smooth in

manner, plausible of speech, generally even-tempered, but he was

overbearing and blandly insolent. Accustomed to control royal personages,

under the garb of extreme obsequiousness, he began, in his intercourse

with those of less exalted rank, to omit a portion of the subserviency

while claiming a still more undisguised authority. To nobles like Egmont

and Orange, who looked down upon the son of Nicolas Perrenot and Nicola

Bonvalot as a person immeasurably beneath themselves in the social

hierarchy, this conduct was sufficiently irritating. The Cardinal, placed

as far above Philip, and even Margaret, in mental power as he was beneath

them in worldly station, found it comparatively easy to deal with them

amicably. With such a man as Egmont, it was impossible for the churchman

to maintain friendly relations. The Count, who notwithstanding his

romantic appearance, his brilliant exploits, and his interesting destiny,

was but a commonplace character, soon conceived a mortal aversion to

Granvelle. A rude soldier, entertaining no respect for science or

letters, ignorant and overbearing, he was not the man to submit to the

airs of superiority which pierced daily more and more decidedly through

the conventional exterior of the Cardinal. Granvelle, on the other hand,

entertained a gentle contempt for Egmont, which manifested itself in all

his private letters to the King, and was sufficiently obvious in his

deportment. There had also been distinct causes of animosity between

them. The governorship of Hesdin having become vacant, Egmont, backed by

Orange and other nobles, had demanded it for the Count de Roeulx, a

gentleman of the Croy family, who, as well as his father, had rendered

many important services to the crown. The appointment was, however,

bestowed, through Granvelle's influence, upon the Seigneur d'Helfault, a

gentleman of mediocre station and character, who was thought to possess

no claims whatever to the office. Egmont, moreover, desired the abbey of

Trulle for a poor relation of his own; but the Cardinal, to whom nothing

in this way ever came amiss, had already obtained the King's permission

to, appropriate the abbey to himself Egmont was now furious against the

prelate, and omitted no opportunity of expressing his aversion, both in

his presence and behind his back. On one occasion, at least, his wrath

exploded in something more than words. Exasperated by Granvelle's

polished insolence in reply to his own violent language, he drew his

dagger upon him in the presence of the Regent herself, "and," says a

contemporary, "would certainly have sent the Cardinal into the next world

had he not been forcibly restrained by the Prince of Orange and other

persons present, who warmly represented to him that such griefs were to

be settled by deliberate advice, not by choler." At the same time, while

scenes like these were occurring in the very bosom of the state council,

Granvelle, in his confidential letters to secretary Perez, asserted

warmly that all reports of a want of harmony between himself and the

other seignors and councillors were false, and that the best relations

existed among them all. It was not his intention, before it should be

necessary, to let the King doubt his ability to govern the counsel

according to the secret commission with which he had been invested.

His relations with Orange were longer in changing from friendship to open

hostility. In the Prince the Cardinal met his match. He found himself

confronted by an intellect as subtle, an experience as fertile in

expedients, a temper as even, and a disposition sometimes as haughty as

his own. He never affected to undervalue the mind of Orange. "'Tis a man

of profound genius, vast ambition--dangerous, acute, politic," he wrote

to the King at a very early period. The original relations between

himself and the Prince bad been very amicable. It hardly needed the

prelate's great penetration to be aware that the friendship of so exalted

a personage as the youthful heir to the principality of Orange, and to

the vast possessions of the Chalons-Nassau house in Burgundy and the

Netherlands, would be advantageous to the ambitious son of the Burgundian

Councillor Granvelle. The young man was the favorite of the Emperor from

boyhood; his high rank, and his remarkable talents marked him

indisputably for one of the foremost men of the coming reign. Therefore

it was politic in Perrenot to seize every opportunity of making himself

useful to the Prince. He busied himself with securing, so far as it might

be necessary to secure, the succession of William to his cousin's

principality. It seems somewhat ludicrous for a merit to be made not only

for Granvelle but for the Emperor, that the Prince should have been

allowed to take an inheritance which the will of Rene de Nassau most

unequivocally conferred, and which no living creature disputed. Yet,

because some of the crown lawyers had propounded the dogma that "the son

Of a heretic ought not to succeed," it was gravely stated as an immense

act of clemency upon the part of Charles the Fifth that he had not

confiscated the whole of the young Prince's heritage. In return

Granvelle's brother Jerome had obtained the governorship of the youth,

upon whose majority he had received an honorable military appointment

from his attached pupil. The prelate had afterwards recommended the

marriage with the Count de Buren's heiress, and had used his influence

with the Emperor to overcome certain objections entertained by Charles,

that the Prince, by this great accession of wealth, might be growing too

powerful. On the other hand, there were always many poor relations and

dependents of Granvelle, eager to be benefitted by Orange's patronage,

who lived in the Prince's household, or received handsome appointments

from his generosity. Thus, there had been great intimacy, founded upon

various benefits mutually conferred; for it could hardly be asserted that

the debt of friendship was wholly upon one side.

When Orange arrived in Brussels from a journey, he would go to the

bishop's before alighting at his own house. When the churchman visited

the Prince, he entered his bed-chamber without ceremony before he had

risen; for it was William's custom, through life, to receive intimate

acquaintances, and even to attend to important negotiations of state,

while still in bed.

The show of this intimacy had lasted longer than its substance. Granvelle

was the most politic of men, and the Prince had not served his

apprenticeship at the court of Charles the Fifth to lay himself bare

prematurely to the criticism or the animosity of the Cardinal with the

recklessness of Horn and Egmont. An explosion came at last, however, and

very soon after an exceedingly amicable correspondence between the two

upon the subject of an edict of religious amnesty which Orange was

preparing for his principality, and which Granvelle had recommended him

not to make too lenient. A few weeks after this, the Antwerp magistracy

was to be renewed. The Prince, as hereditary burgrave of that city, was

entitled to a large share of the appointing power in these political

arrangements, which at the moment were of great importance. The citizens

of Antwerp were in a state of excitement on the subject of the new

bishops. They openly, and in the event, successfully resisted the

installation of the new prelate for whom their city had been constituted

a diocese. The Prince was known to be opposed to the measure, and to the

whole system of ecclesiastical persecution. When the nominations for the

new magistracy came before the Regent, she disposed of the whole matter

in the secret consulta, without the knowledge, and in a manner opposed to

the views of Orange. He was then furnished with a list of the new

magistrates, and was informed that he had been selected as commissioner

along with Count Aremberg, to see that the appointments were carried into

effect. The indignation of the Prince was extreme. He had already taken

offence at some insolent expressions upon this topic, which the Cardinal

had permitted himself. He now sent back the commission to the Duchess,

adding, it was said, that he was not her lackey, and that she might send

some one else with her errands. The words were repeated in the state

council. There was a violent altercation--Orange vehemently resenting his

appointment merely to carry out decisions in which he claimed an original

voice. His ancestors, he said, had often changed the whole of the Antwerp

magistracy by their own authority. It was a little too much that this

matter, as well as every other state affair, should be controlled by the

secret committee of which the Cardinal was the chief. Granvelle, on his

side, was also in a rage. He flung from the council-chamber, summoned the

Chancellor of Brabant, and demanded, amid bitter execrations against

Orange, what common and obscure gentleman there might be, whom he could

appoint to execute the commission thus refused by the Prince and by

Aremberg. He vowed that in all important matters he would, on future

occasions, make use of nobles less inflated by pride, and more tractable

than such grand seignors. The chancellor tried in vain to appease the

churchman's wrath, representing that the city of Antwerp would be highly

offended at the turn things were taking, and offering his services to

induce the withdrawal, on the part of the Prince, of the language which

had given so much offence. The Cardinal was inexorable and peremptory. "I

will have nothing to do with the Prince, Master Chancellor," said he,

"and these are matters which concern you not." Thus the conversation

ended, and thus began the open state of hostilities between the great

nobles and the Cardinal, which had been brooding so long.

On the 23rd July, 1561, a few weeks after the scenes lately described,

the Count of Egmont and the Prince of Orange addressed a joint letter to

the King. They reminded him in this despatch that, they had originally

been reluctant to take office in the state council, on account of their

previous experience of the manner in which business had been conducted

during the administration of the Duke of Savoy. They had feared that

important matters of state might be transacted without their concurrence.

The King had, however, assured them, when in Zeland, that all affairs

would be uniformly treated in full council. If the contrary should ever

prove the case, he had desired them to give him information to that

effect, that he might instantly apply the remedy. They accordingly now

gave him that information. They were consulted upon small matters:

momentous affairs were decided upon in their absence. Still they would

not even now have complained had not Cardinal Granvelle declared that all

the members of the state council were to be held responsible for its

measures, whether they were present at its decisions or not. Not liking

such responsibility, they requested the King either to accept their

resignation or to give orders that all affairs should be communicated to

the whole board and deliberated upon by all the councillors.

In a private letter, written some weeks later (August 15), Egmont begged

secretary Erasso to assure the King that their joint letter had not been

dictated by passion, but by zeal for his service. It was impossible, he

said, to imagine the insolence of the Cardinal, nor to form an idea of

the absolute authority which he arrogated.

In truth, Granvelle, with all his keenness, could not see that Orange,

Egmont, Berghen, Montigny and the rest, were no longer pages and young

captains of cavalry, while he was the politician and the statesman. By

six or seven years the senior of Egmont, and by sixteen years of Orange,

he did not divest himself of the superciliousness of superior wisdom, not

unjust nor so irritating when they had all been boys. In his deportment

towards them, and in the whole tone of his private correspondence with

Philip, there was revealed, almost in spite of himself, an affectation of

authority, against which Egmont rebelled and which the Prince was not the

man to acknowledge. Philip answered the letter of the two nobles in his

usual procrastinating manner. The Count of Horn, who was about leaving

Spain (whither he had accompanied the King) for the Netherlands, would be

entrusted with the resolution which he should think proper to take upon

the subject suggested. In the mean time, he assured them that he did not

doubt their zeal in his service.

As to Count Horn, Granvelle had already prejudiced the King against him.

Horn and the Cardinal had never been friends. A brother of the prelate

had been an aspirant for the hand of the Admiral's sister, and had been

somewhat contemptuously rejected. Horn, a bold, vehement, and not very

good-tempered personage, had long kept no terms with Granvelle, and did

not pretend a friendship which he had never felt. Granvelle had just

written to instruct the King that Horn was opposed bitterly to that

measure which was nearest the King's heart--the new bishoprics. He had

been using strong language, according to the Cardinal, in opposition to

the scheme, while still in Spain. He therefore advised that his Majesty,

concealing, of course, the source of the information, and speaking as it

were out of the royal mind itself, should expostulate with the Admiral

upon the subject. Thus prompted, Philip was in no gracious humor when he

received Count Horn, then about to leave Madrid for the Netherlands, and

to take with him the King's promised answer to the communication of

Orange and Egmont. His Majesty had rarely been known to exhibit so much

anger towards any person as he manifested upon that occasion. After a few

words from the Admiral, in which he expressed his sympathy with the other

Netherland nobles, and his aversion to Granvelle, in general terms, and

in reply to Philip's interrogatories, the King fiercely interrupted him:

"What! miserable man!" he vociferated, "you all complain of this

Cardinal, and always in vague language. Not one of you, in spite of all

my questions, can give me a single reason for your dissatisfaction." With

this the royal wrath boiled over in such unequivocal terms that the

Admiral changed color, and was so confused with indignation and

astonishment, that he was scarcely able to find his way out of the room.

This was the commencement of Granvelle's long mortal combat with Egmont,

Horn, and Orange. This was the first answer which the seignors were to

receive to their remonstrances against the churchman's arrogance. Philip

was enraged that any opposition should be made to his coercive measures,

particularly to the new bishoprics, the "holy work" which the Cardinal

was ready, to "consecrate his fortune and his blood" to advance.

Granvelle fed his master's anger by constant communications as to the

efforts made by distinguished individuals to delay the execution of the

scheme. Assonville had informed him, he wrote, that much complaint had

been made on the subject by several gentlemen, at a supper of Count

Egmont's. It was said that the King ought to have consulted them all, and

the state councillors especially. The present nominees to the new

episcopates were good enough, but it would be found, they said, that very

improper personages would be afterwards appointed. The estates ought not

to permit the execution of the scheme. In short, continued Granvelle,

"there is the same kind of talk which brought about the recall of the

Spanish troops." A few months later, he wrote to inform Philip that a

petition against the new bishoprics was about to be drawn up by "the two

lords.". They had two motives; according to the Cardinal, for this

step--first, to let the King know that he could do nothing without their

permission; secondly, because in the states' assembly they were then the

cocks of the walk. They did not choose, therefore, that in the clerical

branch of the estates any body should be above the abbots, whom they

could frighten into doing whatever they chose. At the end, of the year,

Granvelle again wrote to instruct his sovereign how to reply to the

letter which was about to be addressed to him by the Prince of Orange and

the Marquis Berghen on the subject of the bishoprics. They would tell

him, he said, that the incorporation of the Brabant abbeys into the new

bishoprics was contrary to the constitution of the "joyful entrance."

Philip was, however, to make answer that he had consulted the

universities, and those learned in the laws, and had satisfied himself

that it was entirely constitutional. He was therefore advised to send his

command that the Prince and Marquis should use all their influence to

promote the success of the measure. Thus fortified, the King was enabled

not only to deal with the petition of the nobles, but also with the

deputies from the estates of Brabant, who arrived about this time at

Madrid. To these envoys, who asked for the appointment of royal

commissioners, with whom they might treat on the subject of the

bishoprics, the abbeys, and the "joyful entrance," the King answered

proudly, "that in matters which concerned the service of God, he was his

own commissioner." He afterwards, accordingly, recited to them, with

great accuracy, the lesson which he had privately received from the

ubiquitous Cardinal. Philip was determined that no remonstrance from

great nobles or from private citizens should interfere with the thorough

execution of the grand scheme on which he was resolved, and of which the

new bishoprics formed an important part. Opposition irritated him more

and more, till his hatred of the opponents became deadly; but it, at the

same time, confirmed him in his purpose. "'Tis no time to temporize," he

wrote to Granvelle; "we must inflict chastisement with full rigor and

severity. These rascals can only be made to do right through fear, and

not always even by that means."

At the same time, the royal finances did not admit of any very active

measures, at the moment, to enforce obedience to a policy which was

already so bitterly opposed. A rough estimate, made in the King's own

handwriting, of the resources and obligations of his exchequer, a kind of

balance sheet for the years 1560 and 1561, drawn up much in the same

manner as that in which a simple individual would make a note of his

income and expenditure, gave but a dismal picture of his pecuniary,

condition. It served to show how intelligent a financier is despotism,

and how little available are the resources of a mighty empire when

regarded merely as private property, particularly when the owner chances

to have the vanity of attending to all details himself: "Twenty millions

of ducats," began the memorandum, "will be required to disengage my

revenues. But of this," added the King, with whimsical pathos for an

account-book, "we will not speak at present, as the matter is so entirely

impossible." He then proceeded to enter the various items of expense

which were to be met during the two years; such as so many millions due

to the Fuggers (the Rothschilds of the sixteenth century), so many to

merchants in Flanders, Seville, and other places, so much for Prince

Doria's galleys, so much for three years' pay due to his guards, so much

for his household expenditure, so much for the tuition of Don Carlos,

and Don Juan d'Austria, so much for salaries of ambassadors and

councillors--mixing personal and state expenses, petty items and great

loans, in one singular jumble, but arriving at a total demand upon his

purse of ten million nine hundred and ninety thousand ducats.

To meet this expenditure he painfully enumerated the funds upon which he

could reckon for the two years. His ordinary rents and taxes being all

deeply pledged, he could only calculate from that source upon two hundred

thousand ducats. The Indian revenue, so called, was nearly spent; still

it might yield him four hundred and twenty thousand ducats. The

quicksilver mines would produce something, but so little as hardly to

require mentioning. As to the other mines, they were equally unworthy of

notice, being so very uncertain, and not doing as well as they were wont.

The licences accorded by the crown to carry slaves to America were put

down at fifty thousand ducats for the two years. The product of the

"crozada" and "cuarta," or money paid to him in small sums by

individuals, with the permission of his Holiness, for the liberty of

abstaining from the Church fasts, was estimated at five hundred thousand

ducats. These and a few more meagre items only sufficed to stretch his

income to a total of one million three hundred and thirty thousand far

the two years, against an expenditure calculated at near eleven millions.

"Thus, there are nine millions, less three thousand ducats, deficient,"

he concluded ruefully (and making a mistake in his figures in his own

favor of six hundred and sixty-three thousand besides), "which I may look

for in the sky, or try to raise by inventions already exhausted."

Thus, the man who owned all America and half of Europe could only raise a

million ducats a year from his estates. The possessor of all Peru and

Mexico could reckon on "nothing worth mentioning" from his mines, and

derived a precarious income mainly from permissions granted his subjects

to carry on the slave-trade and to eat meat on Fridays. This was

certainly a gloomy condition of affairs for a monarch on the threshold of

a war which was to outlast his own life and that of his children; a war

in which the mere army expenses were to be half a million florins

monthly, in which about seventy per cent. of the annual disbursements was

to be regularly embezzled or appropriated by the hands through which it

passed, and in which for every four men on paper, enrolled and paid for,

only one, according to the average, was brought into the field.

Granvelle, on the other hand, gave his master but little consolation from

the aspect of financial affairs in the provinces. He assured him that

"the government was often in such embarrassment as not to know where to

look for ten ducats." He complained bitterly that the states would meddle

with the administration of money matters, and were slow in the granting

of subsidies. The Cardinal felt especially outraged by the interference

of these bodies with the disbursement of the sums which they voted. It

has been seen that the states had already compelled the government to

withdraw the troops, much to the regret of Granvelle. They continued,

however, to be intractable on the subject of supplies. "These are very

vile things," he wrote to Philip, "this authority which they assume, this

audacity with which they say whatever they think proper; and these

impudent conditions which they affix to every proposition for subsidies."

The Cardinal protested that he had in vain attempted to convince them of

their error, but that they remained perverse.

It was probably at this time that the plan for debasing the coin,

suggested to Philip some time before by a skilful chemist named Malen,

and always much approved of both by himself and Ruy Gomez, recurred to

his mind. "Another and an extraordinary source of revenue, although

perhaps not a very honorable one," wrote Suriano, "has hitherto been kept

secret; and on account of differences of opinion between the King and his

confessor, has been discontinued." This source of revenue, it seemed, was

found in "a certain powder, of which one ounce mixed with six ounces of

quicksilver would make six ounces of silver." The composition was said to

stand the test of the hammer, but not of the fire. Partly in consequence

of theological scruples and partly on account of opposition from the

states, a project formed by the King to pay his army with this kind of

silver was reluctantly abandoned. The invention, however, was so very

agreeable to the King, and the inventor had received such liberal

rewards, that it was supposed, according to the envoy, that in time of

scarcity his Majesty would make use of such coin without reluctance.

It is necessary, before concluding this chapter, which relates the events

of the years 1560 and 1561, to allude to an important affair which

occupied much attention during the whole of this period. This is the

celebrated marriage of the Prince of Orange with the Princess Anna of

Saxony. By many superficial writers; a moving cause of the great

Netherland revolt was found in the connexion of the great chieftain with

this distinguished Lutheran house. One must have studied the characters

and the times to very little purpose, however, to believe it possible

that much influence could be exerted on the mind of William of Orange by

such natures as those of Anna of Saxony, or of her uncle the Elector

Augustus, surnamed "the Pious."

The Prince had become a widower in 1558, at the age of twenty-five.

Granvelle, who was said to have been influential in arranging his first

marriage, now proposed to him, after the year of mourning had expired, an

alliance with Mademoiselle Renee, daughter of the Duchess de Lorraine,

and granddaughter of Christiern the Third of Denmark, and his wife

Isabella, sister of the Emperor Charles the Fifth. Such a connexion, not

only with the royal house of Spain but with that of France--for, the

young Duke of Lorraine, brother of the lady, had espoused the daughter of

Henry the considered highly desirable by the Prince. Philip and the

Duchess Margaret of Parma both approved, or pretended to approve, the

match. At the same time the Dowager Duchess of Lorraine, mother of the

intended bride, was a candidate, and a very urgent one, for the Regency

of the Netherlands. Being a woman of restless ambition, and intriguing

character, she naturally saw in a man of William's station and talents a

most desirable ally in her present and future schemes. On the other hand,

Philip--who had made open protestation of his desire to connect the

Prince thus closely with his own blood, and had warmly recommended the

match to the young lady's mother--soon afterwards, while walking one day

with the Prince in the park at Brussels, announced to him that the

Duchess of Lorraine had declined his proposals. Such a result astonished

the Prince, who was on the best of terms with the mother, and had been

urging her appointment to the Regency with all his-influence, having

entirely withdrawn his own claims to that office. No satisfactory

explanation was ever given of this singular conclusion to a courtship,

begun with the apparent consent of all parties. It was hinted that the

young lady did not fancy the Prince; but, as it was not known that a word

had ever been exchanged between them, as the Prince, in appearance and

reputation, was one of the most brilliant cavaliers of the age, and as

the approval of the bride was not usually a matter of primary consequence

in such marriages of state, the mystery seemed to require a further

solution. The Prince suspected Granvelle and the King, who were believed

to have held mature and secret deliberation together, of insincerity. The

Bishop was said to have expressed the opinion, that although the

friendship he bore the Prince would induce him to urge the marriage, yet

his duty to his master made him think it questionable whether it were

right to advance a personage already placed so high by birth, wealth, and

popularity, still higher by so near an alliance with his Majesty's

family. The King, in consequence, secretly instructed the Duchess of

Lorraine to decline the proposal, while at the same time he continued

openly to advocate the connexion. The Prince is said to have discovered

this double dealing, and to have found in it the only reasonable

explanation of the whole transaction. Moreover, the Duchess of Lorraine,

finding herself equally duped, and her own ambitious scheme equally

foiled by her unscrupulous cousin--who now, to the surprise of every one,

appointed Margaret of Parma to be Regent, with the Bishop for her prime

minister--had as little reason to be satisfied with the combinations of

royal and ecclesiastical intrigue as the Prince of Orange himself. Soon

after this unsatisfactory mystification, William turned his attentions to

Germany. Anna of Saxony, daughter of the celebrated Elector Maurice,

lived at the court of her uncle, the Elector Augustus. A musket-ball,

perhaps a traitorous one, in an obscure action with Albert of

Brandenbourg, had closed the adventurous career of her father seven years

before. The young lady, who was thought to have inherited much of his

restless, stormy character, was sixteen years of age. She was far from

handsome, was somewhat deformed, and limped. Her marriage-portion was

deemed, for the times, an ample one; she had seventy thousand rix dollars

in hand, and the reversion of thirty thousand on the death of John

Frederic the Second, who had married her mother after the death of

Maurice. Her rank was accounted far higher in Germany than that of

William of Nassau, and in this respect, rather than for pecuniary

considerations, the marriage seemed a desirable one for him. The man who

held the great Nassau-Chalons property, together with the heritage of

Count Maximilian de Buren, could hardly have been tempted by 100,000

thalers. His own provision for the children who might spring from the

proposed marriage was to be a settlement of seventy thousand florins

annually. The fortune which permitted of such liberality was not one to

be very materially increased by a dowry which might seem enormous to many

of the pauper princes of Germany. "The bride's portion," says a

contemporary, "after all, scarcely paid for the banquets and magnificent

festivals which celebrated the marriage. When the wedding was paid for,

there was not a thaler remaining of the whole sum." Nothing, then, could

be more puerile than to accuse the Prince of mercenary motives in seeking

this alliance; an accusation, however, which did not fail to be brought.

There were difficulties on both sides to be arranged before this marriage

could take place. The bride was a Lutheran, the Prince was a Catholic.

With regard to the religion of Orange not the slightest doubt existed,

nor was any deception attempted. Granvelle himself gave the most entire

attestation of the Prince's orthodoxy. "This proposed marriage gives me

great pain," he wrote to Philip, "but I have never had reason to suspect

his principles." In another letter he observed that he wished the

marriage could be broken off; but that he hoped so much from the virtue

of the Prince that nothing could suffice to separate him from the true

religion. On the other side there was as little doubt as to his creed.

Old Landgrave Philip of Hesse, grandfather of the young lady, was

bitterly opposed to the match. "'Tis a papist," said he, "who goes to

mass, and eats no meat on fast days." He had no great objection to his

character, but insurmountable ones to his religion. "Old Count William,"

said he, "was an evangelical lord to his dying day. This man is a

papist!" The marriage, then, was to be a mixed marriage. It is necessary,

however, to beware of anachronisms upon the subject. Lutherans were not

yet formally denounced as heretics. On the contrary, it was exactly at

this epoch that the Pope was inviting the Protestant princes of Germany

to the Trent Council, where the schism was to be closed, and all the

erring lambs to be received again into the bosom of the fold. So far from

manifesting an outward hostility, the papal demeanor was conciliating.

The letters of invitation from the Pope to the princes were sent by a

legate, each commencing with the exordium, "To my beloved son," and were

all sent back to his Holiness, contemptuously, with the coarse jest for

answer, "We believe our mothers to have been honest women, and hope that

we had better fathers." The great council had not yet given its

decisions. Marriages were of continual occurrence, especially among

princes and potentates, between the adherents of Rome and of the new

religion. Even Philip had been most anxious to marry the Protestant

Elizabeth, whom, had she been a peasant, he would unquestionably have

burned, if in his power. Throughout Germany, also, especially in high

places, there was a disposition to cover up the religious controversy; to

abstain from disturbing the ashes where devastation still glowed, and was

one day to rekindle itself. It was exceedingly difficult for any man,

from the Archduke Maximilian down, to define his creed. A marriage,

therefore; between a man and woman of discordant views upon this topic

was not startling, although in general not considered desirable.

There were, however, especial reasons why this alliance should be

distasteful, both to Philip of Spain upon one side, and to the Landgrave

Philip of Hesse on the other. The bride was the daughter of the elector

Maurice. In that one name were concentrated nearly all the disasters,

disgrace, and disappointment of the Emperor's reign. It was Maurice who

had hunted the Emperor through the Tyrolean mountains; it was Maurice who

had compelled the peace of Passau; it was Maurice who had overthrown the

Catholic Church in Germany, it was Maurice who had frustrated Philip's

election as king of the Romans. If William of Orange must seek a wife

among the pagans, could no other bride be found for him than the daughter

of such a man?

Anna's grandfather, on the other hand, Landgrave Philip, was the

celebrated victim to the force and fraud of Charles the Fifth. He saw in

the proposed bridegroom, a youth who had been from childhood, the petted

page and confidant of the hated Emperor, to whom he owed his long

imprisonment. He saw in him too, the intimate friend and ally--for the

brooding quarrels of the state council were not yet patent to the

world--of the still more deeply detested Granvelle; the crafty priest

whose substitution of "einig" for "ewig" had inveigled him into that

terrible captivity. These considerations alone would have made him

unfriendly to the Prince, even had he not been a Catholic.

The Elector Augustus, however, uncle and guardian to the bride, was not

only well-disposed but eager for the marriage, and determined to overcome

all obstacles, including the opposition of the Landgrave, without whose

consent he was long pledged not to bestow the hand of Anna. For this

there were more than one reason. Augustus, who, in the words of one of

the most acute historical critics of our day, was "a Byzantine Emperor of

the lowest class, re-appearing in electoral hat and mantle," was not firm

in his rights to the dignity he held. He had inherited from his brother,

but his brother had dispossessed John Frederic. Maurice, when turning

against the Emperor, who had placed him in his cousin's seat, had not

thought it expedient to restore to the rightful owner the rank which he

himself owed to the violence of Charles. Those claims might be

revindicated, and Augustus be degraded in his turn, by a possible

marriage of the Princess Anna, with some turbulent or intriguing German

potentate. Out of the land she was less likely to give trouble. The

alliance, if not particularly desirable on the score of rank, was, in

other worldly respects, a most brilliant one for his niece. As for the

religious point, if he could overcome or circumvent the scruples of the

Landgrave, he foresaw little difficulty in conquering his own conscience.

The Prince of Orange, it is evident, was placed in such a position, that

it would be difficult for him to satisfy all parties. He intended that

the marriage, like all marriages among persons in high places at that

day, should be upon the "uti possidetis" principle, which was the

foundation of the religious peace of Germany. His wife, after marriage

and removal to the Netherlands, would "live Catholically;" she would be

considered as belonging to the same Church with her husband, was to give

no offence to the government, and bring no suspicion upon himself, by

violating any of the religious decencies. Further than this, William, who

at that day was an easy, indifferent Catholic, averse to papal

persecutions, but almost equally averse to long, puritanical prayers and

faces, taking far more pleasure in worldly matters than in ecclesiastical

controversies, was not disposed to advance in this thorny path. Having a

stern bigot to deal with, in Madrid, and another in Cassel, he soon

convinced himself that he was not likely entirely to satisfy either, and

thought it wiser simply to satisfy himself.

Early in 1560, Count Gunther de Schwartzburg, betrothed to the Prince's

sister Catharine, together with Colonel George Von Holl, were despatched

to Germany to open the marriage negotiations. They found the Elector

Augustus already ripe and anxious for the connexion. It was easy for the

envoys to satisfy all his requirements on the religious question. If, as

the Elector afterwards stated to the Landgrave, they really promised that

the young lady should be allowed to have an evangelical preacher in her

own apartments, together with the befitting sacraments, it is very

certain that they travelled a good way out of their instructions, for

such concessions were steadily refused by William in person. It is,

however, more probable that Augustus, whose slippery feet were disposed

to slide smoothly and swiftly over this dangerous ground, had represented

the Prince's communications under a favorable gloss of his own. At any

rate, nothing in the subsequent proceedings justified the conclusions

thus hastily formed.

The Landgrave Philip, from the beginning, manifested his repugnance to

the match. As soon as the proposition had been received by Augustus, that

potentate despatched Hans von Carlowitz to the grandfather at Cassel. The

Prince of Orange, it was represented, was young, handsome, wealthy, a

favorite of the Spanish monarch; the Princess Anna, on the other hand,

said her uncle was not likely to grow straighter or better proportioned

in body, nor was her crooked and perverse character likely to improve

with years. It was therefore desirable to find a settlement for her as

soon as possible. The Elector, however, would decide upon nothing without

the Landgrave's consent.

To this frank, and not very flattering statement, so far as the young

lady was concerned, the Landgrave answered stoutly and characteristically.

The Prince was a Spanish subject, he said, and would not be able to

protect Anna in her belief, who would sooner or later become a fugitive:

he was but a Count in Germany, and no fitting match for an Elector's

daughter; moreover, the lady herself ought to be consulted, who had not

even seen the Prince. If she were crooked in body, as the Elector stated,

it was a shame to expose her; to conceal it, however, was questionable, as

the Prince might complain afterwards that a straight princess had been

promised, and a crooked one fraudulently substituted,--and so on, though a

good deal more of such quaint casuistry, in which the Landgrave was

accomplished. The amount of his answer, however, to the marriage proposal

was an unequivocal negative, from which he never wavered.

In consequence of this opposition, the negotiations were for a time

suspended. Augustus implored the Prince not to abandon the project,

promising that every effort should be made to gain over the Landgrave,

hinting that the old man might "go to his long rest soon," and even

suggesting that if the worst came to the worst, he had bound himself to

do nothing without the knowledge of the Landgrave, but was not obliged to

wait for his consent.

On the other hand, the Prince had communicated to the King of Spain the

fact of the proposed marriage. He had also held many long conversations

with the Regent and with Granvelle. In all these interviews he had

uniformly used one language: his future wife was to "live as a Catholic,"

and if that point were not conceded, he would break off the negotiations.

He did not pretend that she was to abjure her Protestant faith. The

Duchess, in describing to Philip the conditions, as sketched to her by

the Prince, stated expressly that Augustus of Saxony was to consent that

his niece "should live Catholically after the marriage," but that it was

quite improbable that "before the nuptials she would be permitted to

abjure her errors, and receive necessary absolution, according to the

rules of the Church." The Duchess, while stating her full confidence in

the orthodoxy of the Prince, expressed at the same time her fears that

attempts might be made in the future by his new connexions "to pervert

him to their depraved opinions."

A silence of many months ensued on the part of the sovereign, during

which he was going through the laborious process of making up his mind,

or rather of having it made up for him by people a thousand miles off. In

the autumn Granvelle wrote to say that the Prince was very much surprised

to have been kept so long waiting for a definite reply to his

communications, made at the beginning of the year concerning his intended

marriage, and to learn at last that his Majesty had sent no answer, upon

the ground that the match had been broken off; the fact being, that the

negotiations were proceeding more earnestly than ever.

Nothing could be more helpless and more characteristic than the letter

which Philip sent, thus pushed for a decision. "You wrote me," said he,

"that you had hopes that this matter of the Prince's marriage would go no

further, and seeing that you did not write oftener on the subject, I

thought certainly that it had been terminated. This pleased me not a

little, because it was the best thing that could be done. Likewise,"

continued the most tautological of monarchs, "I was much pleased that it

should be done. Nevertheless;" he added, "if the marriage is to be

proceeded with, I really don't know what to say about it, except to refer

it to my sister, inasmuch as a person being upon the spot can see better

what can be done with regard to it; whether it be possible to prevent it,

or whether it be best, if there be no remedy, to give permission. But if

there be a remedy, it would be better to take it, because," concluded the

King, pathetically, "I don't see how the Prince could think of marrying

with the daughter of the man who did to his majesty, now in glory, that

which Duke Maurice did."

Armed with this luminous epistle, which, if it meant any thing, meant a

reluctant affirmation to the demand of the Prince for the royal consent,

the Regent and Granvelle proceeded to summon William of Orange, and to

catechise him in a manner most galling to the pride, and with a latitude

not at all justified by any reasonable interpretation of the royal

instructions. They even informed him that his Majesty had assembled

"certain persons learned in cases of conscience, and versed in theology,"

according to whose advice a final decision, not yet possible, would be

given at some future period. This assembly of learned conscience-keepers

and theologians had no existence save in the imaginations of Granvelle

and Margaret. The King's letter, blind and blundering as it was, gave the

Duchess the right to decide in the affirmative on her own responsibility;

yet fictions like these formed a part of the "dissimulation," which was

accounted profound statesmanship by the disciples of Machiavelli. The

Prince, however irritated, maintained his steadiness; assured the Regent

that the negotiation had advanced too far to be abandoned, and repeated

his assurance that the future Princess of Orange was to "live as a

Catholic."

In December, 1560, William made a visit to Dresden, where he was received

by the Elector with great cordiality. This visit was conclusive as to the

marriage. The appearance and accomplishments of the distinguished suitor

made a profound impression upon the lady. Her heart was carried by storm.

Finding, or fancying herself very desperately enamored of the proposed

bridegroom, she soon manifested as much eagerness for the marriage as did

her uncle, and expressed herself frequently with the violence which

belonged to her character. "What God had decreed," she said, "the Devil

should not hinder."

The Prince was said to have exhibited much diligence in his attention to

the services of the Protestant Church during his visit at Dreaden. As

that visit lasted, however, but ten or eleven days, there was no great

opportunity for shewing much zeal.

At the same period one William Knuttel was despatched by Orange on the

forlorn hope of gaining the old Landgrave's consent, without making any

vital concessions. "Will the Prince," asked the Landgrave, "permit my

granddaughter to have an evangelical preacher in the house?"--"No,"

answered Knuttel. "May she at least receive the sacrament of the Lord's

Supper in her own chamber, according to the Lutheran form?"--"No,"

answered Knuttel, "neither in Breda, nor any where else in the

Netherlands. If she imperatively requires such sacraments, she must go

over the border for them, to the nearest Protestant sovereign."

Upon the 14th April, 1561, the Elector, returning to the charge, caused a

little note to be drawn up on the religious point, which he forwarded, in

the hope that the Prince would copy and sign it. He added a promise that

the memorandum should never be made public to the signer's disadvantage.

At the same time he observed to Count Louis, verbally, "that he had been

satisfied with the declarations made by the Prince when in Dresden, upon

all points, except that concerning religion. He therefore felt obliged to

beg for a little agreement in writing."--"By no means! by no means!"

interrupted Louis promptly, at the very first word, "the Prince can give

your electoral highness no such assurance. 'T would be risking life,

honor, and fortune to do so, as your grace is well aware." The Elector

protested that the declaration, if signed, should never come into the

Spanish monarch's hands, and insisted upon sending it to the Prince.

Louis, in a letter to his brother, characterized the document as

"singular, prolix and artful," and strongly advised the Prince to have

nothing to do with it.

This note, which the Prince was thus requested to sign, and which his

brother Louis thus strenuously advised him not to sign, the Prince never

did sign. Its tenor was to the following effect:--The Princess, after

marriage, was, neither by menace nor persuasion; to be turned from the

true and pure Word of God, or the use of the sacrament according to the

doctrines of the Augsburg Confession. The Prince was to allow her to read

books written in accordance with the Augsburg Confession. The prince was

to permit her, as often, annually, as she required it, to go out of the

Netherlands to some place where she could receive the sacrament according

to the Augsburg Confession. In case she were in sickness or perils of

childbirth, the Prince, if necessary, would call to her an evangelical

preacher, who might administer to her the holy sacrament in her chamber.

The children who might spring from the marriage were to be instructed as

to the doctrines of the Augsburg Confession.

Even if executed, this celebrated memorandum would hardly have been at

variance with the declarations made by the Prince to the Spanish

government. He had never pretended that his bride was to become a

Catholic, but only to live as a Catholic. All that he had promised, or

was expected to promise, was that his wife should conform to the law in

the Netherlands. The paper, in a general way, recognized that law. In

case of absolute necessity, however, it was stipulated that the Princess

should have the advantage of private sacraments. This certainly would

have been a mortal offence in a Calvinist or Anabaptist, but for

Lutherans the practise had never been so strict. Moreover, the Prince

already repudiated the doctrines of the edicts, and rebelled against the

command to administer them within his government. A general promise,

therefore, made by him privately, in the sense of the memorandum drawn up

by the Elector, would have been neither hypocritical nor deceitful, but

worthy the man who looked over such grovelling heads as Granvelle and

Philip on the one side, or Augustus of Saxony on the other, and estimated

their religious pretences at exactly what they were worth. A formal

document, however, technically according all these demands made by the

Elector, would certainly be regarded by the Spanish government as a very

culpable instrument. The Prince never signed the note, but, as we shall

have occasion to state in its proper place, he gave a verbal declaration,

favorable to its tenor, but in very vague and brief terms, before a

notary, on the day of the marriage.

If the reader be of opinion that too much time has been expended upon the

elucidation of this point, he should remember that the character of a

great and good man is too precious a possession of history to be lightly

abandoned. It is of no great consequence to ascertain the precise creed

of Augustus of Saxony, or of his niece; it is of comparatively little

moment to fix the point at which William of Orange ceased to be an

honest, but liberal Catholic, and opened his heart to the light of the

Reformation; but it is of very grave interest that his name should be

cleared of the charge of deliberate fraud and hypocrisy. It has therefore

been thought necessary to prove conclusively that the Prince never gave,

in Dresden or Cassel, any assurance inconsistent with his assertions to

King and Cardinal. The whole tone of his language and demeanor on the

religious subject was exhibited in his reply to the Electress, who,

immediately after the marriage, entreated that he would not pervert her

niece from the paths of the true religion. "She shall not be troubled,"

said the Prince, "with such melancholy things. Instead of holy writ she

shall read 'Amadis de Gaule,' and such books of pastime which discourse

de amore; and instead of knitting and sewing she shall learn to dance a

galdiarde, and such courtoisies as are the mode of our country and

suitable to her rank."

The reply was careless, flippant, almost contemptuous. It is very certain

that William of Orange was not yet the "father William" he was destined

to become--grave, self-sacrificing, deeply religious, heroic; but it was

equally evident from this language that he had small sympathy, either in

public or private, with Lutheranism or theological controversy. Landgrave

William was not far from right when he added, in his quaint style, after

recalling this well-known reply, "Your grace will observe, therefore,

that when the abbot has dice in his pocket, the convent will play."

So great was the excitement at the little court of Cassel, that many

Protestant princes and nobles declared that "they would sooner give their

daughters to a boor or a swineherd than to a Papist." The Landgrave was

equally vigorous in his protest, drawn up in due form on the 26th April,

1561. He was not used, he said, "to flatter or to tickle with a foxtail."

He was sorry if his language gave offense, nevertheless "the marriage was

odious, and that was enough." He had no especial objection to the Prince,

"who before the world was a brave and honorable man." He conceded that

his estates were large, although he hinted that his debts also were

ample; allowed that he lived in magnificent style, had even heard "of one

of his banquets, where all the table-cloths, plates, and every thing

else, were made of sugar," but thought he might be even a little too

extravagant; concluding, after a good deal of skimble-skamble of this

nature, with "protesting before God, the world, and all pious Christians,

that he was not responsible for the marriage, but only the Elector

Augustus and others, who therefore would one day have to render account

thereof to the Lord."

Meantime the wedding had been fixed to take place on Sunday, the 24th

August, 1561. This was St. Bartholomew's, a nuptial day which was not

destined to be a happy one in the sixteenth century. The Landgrave and

his family declined to be present at the wedding, but a large and

brilliant company were invited. The King of Spain sent a bill of exchange

to the Regent, that she might purchase a ring worth three thousand

crowns, as a present on his part to the bride. Beside this liberal

evidence that his opposition to the marriage was withdrawn, he authorized

his sister to appoint envoys from among the most distinguished nobles to

represent him on the occasion. The Baron de Montigny, accordingly, with a

brilliant company of gentlemen, was deputed by the Duchess, although she

declined sending all the governors of the provinces, according to the

request of the Prince. The marriage was to take place at Leipsic. A

slight picture of the wedding festivities, derived entirely from

unpublished sources, may give some insight into the manners and customs

of high life in Germany and the Netherlands at this epoch.

The Kings of Spain and Denmark were invited, and were represented by

special ambassadors. The Dukes of Brunswick, Lauenburg, Mecklenburg, the

Elector and Margraves of Brandenburg, the Archbishop of Cologne, the Duke

of Cleves, the Bishops of Naumburg, Meneburg, Meissen, with many other

potentates, accepted the invitations, and came generally in person, a few

only being represented by envoys. The town councils of Erfurt, Leipsic,

Magdeburg, and other cities, were also bidden. The bridegroom was

personally accompanied by his brothers John, Adolphus, and Louis; by the

Burens, the Leuchtenbergs, and various other distinguished personages.

As the electoral residence at Leipsic was not completely finished,

separate dwellings were arranged for each of the sovereign families

invited, in private houses, mostly on the market-place. Here they were to

be furnished with provisions by the Elector's officials, but they were to

cook for themselves. For this purpose all the princes had been requested

to bring their own cooks and butlers, together with their plate and

kitchen utensils. The sovereigns themselves were to dine daily with the

Elector at the town-house, but the attendants and suite were to take

their meals in their own lodgings. A brilliant collection of gentlemen

and pages, appointed by the Elector to wait at his table, were ordered to

assemble at Leipsic on the 22d, the guests having been all invited for

the 23d. Many regulations were given to these noble youths, that they

might discharge their duties with befitting decorum. Among other orders,

they received particular injunctions that they were to abstain from all

drinking among themselves, and from all riotous conduct whatever, while

the sovereigns and potentates should be at dinner. "It would be a

shameful indecency," it was urged, "if the great people sitting at table

should be unable to hear themselves talk on account of the screaming of

the attendants." This provision did not seem unreasonable. They were also

instructed that if invited to drink by any personage at the great tables

they were respectfully to decline the challenge, and to explain the cause

after the repast.

Particular arrangements were also made for the safety of the city.

Besides the regular guard of Leipsic, two hundred and twenty

arquebuseers, spearsmen, and halberdmen, were ordered from the

neighboring towns. These were to be all dressed in uniform; one arm, side

and leg in black, and the other in yellow, according to a painting

distributed beforehand to the various authorities. As a mounted patrole,

Leipsic had a regular force of two men. These were now increased to ten,

and received orders to ride with their lanterns up and down all the

streets and lanes, to accost all persons whom they might find abroad

without lights in their hands, to ask them their business in courteous

language, and at the same time to see generally to the peace and safety

of the town.

Fifty arquebuseers were appointed to protect the town-house, and a

burgher watch of six hundred was distributed in different quarters,

especially to guard against fire.

On Saturday, the day before the wedding, the guests had all arrived at

Leipsic, and the Prince of Orange, with his friends, at Meneburg. On

Sunday, the 24th August, the Elector at the head of his guests and

attendants, in splendid array, rode forth to receive the bridegroom. His

cavalcade numbered four thousand. William of Orange had arrived,

accompanied by one thousand mounted men. The whole troop now entered the

city together, escorting the Prince to the town-house. Here he

dismounted, and was received on the staircase by the Princess Anna,

attended by her ladies. She immediately afterwards withdrew to her

apartments.

It was at this point, between 4 and 5 P.M., that the Elector and

Electress, with the bride and bridegroom, accompanied also by the Dame

Sophia von Miltitz and the Councillors Hans von Ponika and Ubrich

Woltersdorff upon one side, and by Count John of Nassau and Heinrich von

Wiltberg upon the other, as witnesses, appeared before Wolf Seidel,

notary, in a corner room of the upper story of the town-house. One of the

councillors, on the part of the Elector, then addressed the bridegroom.

He observed that his highness would remember, no doubt, the contents of a

memorandum or billet, sent by the Elector on the 14th April of that year,

by the terms of which the Prince was to agree that he would, neither by

threat nor persuasion, prevent his future wife from continuing in the

Augsburg Confession; that he would allow her to go to places where she

might receive the Augsburg sacraments; that in case of extreme need she

should receive them in her chamber; and that the children who might

spring from the marriage should be instructed as to the Augsburg

doctrines. As, however, continued the councillor, his highness the Prince

of Orange has, for various reasons, declined giving any such agreement in

writing, as therefore it had been arranged that before the marriage

ceremony the Prince should, in the presence of the bride and of the other

witnesses, make a verbal promise on the subject, and as the parties were

now to be immediately united in marriage, therefore the Elector had no

doubt that the Prince would make no objection in presence of those

witnesses to give his consent to maintain the agreements comprised in the

memorandum or note. The note was then read. Thereupon, the Prince

answered verbally. "Gracious Elector; I remember the writing which you

sent me on the 14th April. All the point: just narrated by the Doctor

were contained in it. I now state to your highness that I will keep it

all as becomes a prince, and conform to it." Thereupon he gave the

Elector his hand.--

What now was the amount and meaning of this promise on the part of the

Prince? Almost nothing. He would conform to the demands of the Elector,

exactly as he had hitherto said he would conform to them. Taken in

connexion with his steady objections to sign and seal any instrument on

the subject--with his distinct refusal to the Landgrave (through Knuttel)

to allow the Princess an evangelical preacher or to receive the

sacraments in the Netherlands--with the vehement, formal, and public

protest, on the part of the Landgrave, against the marriage--with the

Prince's declarations to the Elector at Dresden, which were satisfactory

on all points save the religious point,--what meaning could this verbal

promise have, save that the Prince would do exactly as much with regard

to the religious question as he had always promised, and no more? This

was precisely what did happen. There was no pretence on the part of the

Elector, afterwards, that any other arrangement had been contemplated.

The Princess lived catholically from the moment of her marriage, exactly

as Orange had stated to the Duchess Margaret, and as the Elector knew

would be the case. The first and the following children born of the

marriage were baptized by Catholic priests, with very elaborate Catholic

ceremonies, and this with the full consent of the Elector, who sent

deputies and officiated as sponsor on one remarkable occasion.

Who, of all those guileless lambs then, Philip of Spain, the Elector of

Saxony, or Cardinal Granvelle, had been deceived by the language or

actions of the Prince? Not one. It may be boldly asserted that the

Prince, placed in a transition epoch, both of the age and of his own

character, surrounded by the most artful and intriguing personages known

to history, and involved in a network of most intricate and difficult

circumstances, acquitted himself in a manner as honorable as it was

prudent. It is difficult to regard the notarial instrument otherwise than

as a memorandum, filed rather by Augustus than by wise William, in order

to put upon record for his own justification, his repeated though

unsuccessful efforts to procure from the Prince a regularly signed,

sealed, and holographic act, upon the points stated in the famous note.

After the delay occasioned by these private formalities, the bridal

procession, headed by the court musicians, followed by the court

marshals, councillors, great officers of state, and the electoral family,

entered the grand hall of the town-house. The nuptial ceremony was then

performed by "the Superintendent Doctor Pfeffinger." Immediately

afterwards, and in the same hall, the bride and bridegroom were placed

publicly upon a splendid, gilded bed, with gold-embroidered curtains, the

Princess being conducted thither by the Elector and Electress. Confects

and spiced drinks were then served to them and to the assembled company.

After this ceremony they were conducted to their separate chambers, to

dress for dinner. Before they left the hall, however, Margrave Hans of

Brandenburg, on part of the Elector of Saxony, solemnly recommended the

bride to her husband, exhorting him to cherish her with faith and

affection, and "to leave her undisturbed in the recognized truth of the

holy gospel and the right use of the sacraments."

Five round tables were laid in the same hall immediately afterwards--each

accommodating ten guests. As soon as the first course of twenty-five

dishes had been put upon the chief table, the bride and bridegroom, the

Elector and Electress, the Spanish and Danish envoys and others, were

escorted to it, and the banquet began. During the repast, the Elector's

choir and all the other bands discoursed the "merriest and most ingenious

music." The noble vassals handed the water, the napkins, and the wine,

and every thing was conducted decorously and appropriately. As soon as

the dinner was brought to a close, the tables were cleared away, and the

ball began in the same apartment. Dances, previously arranged, were

performed, after which "confects and drinks" were again distributed, and

the bridal pair were then conducted to the nuptial chamber.

The wedding, according to the Lutheran custom of the epoch, had thus

taken place not in a church, but in a private dwelling; the hall of the

town-house, representing, on this occasion, the Elector's own saloons. On

the following morning, however, a procession was formed at seven o'clock

to conduct the newly-married couple to the church of St. Nicholas, there

to receive an additional exhortation and benediction. Two separate

companies of gentlemen, attended by a great number of "fifers, drummers,

and trumpeters," escorted the bride and the bridegroom, "twelve counts

wearing each a scarf of the Princess Anna's colors, with golden garlands

on their heads and lighted torches in their hands," preceding her to the

choir, where seats had been provided for the more illustrious portion of

the company. The church had been magnificently decked in tapestry, and,

as the company entered, a full orchestra performed several fine motettos.

After listening to a long address from Dr. Pfeffinger, and receiving a

blessing before the altar, the Prince and Princess of Orange returned,

with their attendant processions, to the town-house.

After dinner, upon the same and the three following days, a tournament

was held. The lists were on the market-place, on the side nearest the

town-house; the Electress and the other ladies looking down from balcony

and window to "rain influence and adjudge the prize." The chief hero of

these jousts, according to the accounts in the Archives, was the Elector

of Saxony. He "comported himself with such especial chivalry" that his

far-famed namesake and remote successor, Augustus the Strong, could

hardly have evinced more knightly prowess. On the first day he

encountered George Von Wiedebach, and unhorsed him so handsomely that the

discomfited cavalier's shoulder was dislocated. On the following day he

tilted with Michael von Denstedt, and was again victorious, hitting his

adversary full in the target, and "bearing him off over his horse's tail

so neatly, that the knight came down, heels over head, upon the earth."

On Wednesday, there was what was called the palliatourney. The Prince of

Orange, at the head of six bands, amounting in all to twenty-nine men;

the Margrave George of Brandenburg, with seven bands, comprising

thirty-four men, and the Elector Augustus, with one band of four men,

besides himself, all entered the lists. Lots were drawn for the "gate of

honor," and gained by the Margrave, who accordingly defended it with his

band. Twenty courses were then run between these champions and the Prince

of Orange, with his men. The Brandenburgs broke seven lances, the

Prince's party only six, so that Orange was obliged to leave the lists

discomfited. The ever-victorious Augustus then took the field, and ran

twenty courses against the defenders, breaking fourteen spears to the

Brandenburg's ten. The Margrave, thus defeated, surrendered the "gate of

honor" to the Elector, who maintained, it the rest of the day against all

comers. It is fair to suppose, although the fact is not recorded, that

the Elector's original band had received some reinforcement. Otherwise,

it would be difficult to account for these constant victories, except by

ascribing more than mortal strength, as well as valor, to Augustus and

his four champions. His party broke one hundred and fifty-six lances, of

which number the Elector himself broke thirty-eight and a half. He

received the first prize, but declined other guerdons adjudged to him.

The reward for the hardest hitting was conferred on Wolf Von Schonberg,

"who thrust Kurt Von Arnim clean out of the saddle, so that he fell

against the barriers."

On Thursday was the riding at the ring. The knights who partook of this

sport wore various strange garbs over their armor. Some were disguised as

hussars, some as miners, come as lansquenettes; others as Tartans,

pilgrims, fools, bird-catchers, hunters, monks; peasants, or Netherland

cuirassiers. Each party was attended by a party of musicians, attired in

similar costume. Moreover, Count Gunter Von Schwartzburg made, his

appearance in the lists, accompanied "by five remarkable giants of

wonderful proportions and appearance, very ludicrous to behold, who

performed all kind of odd antics on horseback."

The next day there was a foot tourney, followed in the evening by

"mummeries," or masquerades. These masques were repeated on the following

evening, and afforded great entertainment. The costumes were magnificent,

"with golden and pearl embroidery," the dances were very merry and

artistic, and the musicians, who formed a part of the company, exhibited

remarkable talent. These "mummeries" had been brought by William of

Orange from the Netherlands, at the express request of the Elector, on

the ground that such matters were much better understood in the provinces

than in Germany.

Such is a slight sketch of the revels by which this ill-fated Bartholomew

marriage was celebrated. While William of Orange was thus employed in

Germany, Granvelle seized the opportunity to make his entry into the city

of Mechlin, as archbishop; believing that such a step would be better

accomplished in the absence of the Prince from the country. The Cardinal

found no one in the city to welcome him. None of the great nobles were

there. "The people looked upon the procession with silent hatred. No man

cried, God bless him." He wrote to the King that he should push forward

the whole matter of the bishoprics as fast as possible, adding the

ridiculous assertion that the opposition came entirely from the nobility,

and that "if the seigniors did not talk so much, not a man of the people

would open his mouth on the subject."

The remonstrance offered by the three estates of Brabant against the

scheme had not influenced Philip. He had replied in a peremptory tone. He

had assured them that he had no intention of receding, and that the

province of Brabant ought to feel itself indebted to him for having given

them prelates instead of abbots to take care of their eternal interests,

and for having erected their religious houses into episcopates. The

abbeys made what resistance they could, but were soon fain to come to a

compromise with the bishops, who, according to the arrangement thus made,

were to receive a certain portion of the abbey revenues, while the

remainder was to belong to the institutions, together with a continuance

of their right to elect their own chiefs, subordinate, however, to the

approbation of the respective prelates of the diocese. Thus was the

episcopal matter settled in Brabant. In many of the other bishoprics the

new dignitaries were treated with disrespect, as they made their entrance

into their cities, while they experienced endless opposition and

annoyance on attempting to take possession of the revenue assigned to

them.

ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

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MOTLEY'S HISTORY OF THE NETHERLANDS, PG EDITION, VOLUME 7.

THE RISE OF THE DUTCH REPUBLIC

JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY, D.C.L., LL.D.

1855