D. John of Austria at last signed the "Peace of Ghent," called the
"Perpetual Edict," on the 14th of February, 1577, with his heart full of
shame and depression. He was full of shame, because it was humiliating
for Spain, for his King, and for himself as Philip's representative to
give in to the rude and insolent demands of that band of rebels and
dissembling heretics; and it depressed him, because, in signing the
paper, he destroyed with a stroke of the pen, for a doubtful gain, the
brilliant hope of his golden and chivalrous dream—the expedition to
England.
At that moment the key of the situation of the whole expedition was the
departure of the Spanish regiments from Flanders. D. John could send
them along the coast of Holland, and from there descend on England,
where everything was ready for their reception. But the Prince of
Orange, afraid lest these redoubtable soldiers should approach the two
provinces he had usurped, Holland and Zeeland, vigorously opposed the
plan of embarkation, and prevailed on the States to inform D. John, with
their usual rudeness, that the troops should not leave by being embarked
on the north, but should march towards Italy. A violent altercation took
place between the Council in Brussels and D. John, and all the
negotiations that had been made were on the point of being broken off,
because D. John was at the end of his patience, and the Council at the
limit of the insolence with which they endeavoured to tire and
exasperate him. But Philip, frightened lest the peace, which was his
only desire, should be endangered, stopped the quarrel by ordering D.
John to dispatch the troops by land, as the States wished.
D. John bowed his head and signed the "Perpetual Edict," thus
sacrificing by his obedience the hopes of a kingdom, then more than ever
well founded, as Monsignor Filippo Sega, Bishop of Ripa Trazone, had
just arrived at Luxemburg, sent to Flanders by Gregory XIII as Nuncio to
D. John. The ostensible object of the mission was to counsel and guide
him, that in his treaties with the heretics there should be nothing
prejudicial to the Catholic Church; but in reality it came to give him
the Bulls from Gregory XIII, conceding him the kingdom of England, and
to give him the 50,000 golden crowns which the Pope sent to help the
enterprise, and offering 5000 well-armed infantry which the Holy See
would provide, and which only waited for D. John's signal to start for
England. This unhoped-for assistance from the Pope, joined to the news
from the English and Scotch lords that everything was ready, promised
such success to the expedition that it made it all the harder and more
disappointing to give it up.
All the same, D. John sacrificed his hopes just as they were coming
true, and thus cruelly humbled his own personal pride, and smothered his
own legitimate aspirations, in order to obey the King, his brother,
loyally; and without loss of time he ordered the Spanish regiments to
assemble at Maestricht, to leave Flanders for Italy. It happened, as D.
John had foreseen, that the troops obeyed, because it was he who ordered
them; but they did so murmuring against the King, grumbling at the way
he treated them, promising that very soon he would call for them again,
and claiming, with great justice, their overdue pay before leaving.
D. John then found himself in a fresh quandary; the States, who should
have paid the troops, refused to pay more than a third part of what was
due, and, by an unreasonableness which showed their bad faith, at the
same time refused to acknowledge D. John as Governor, or give him the
command so long as the troops did not leave Flanders. On the other hand,
in spite of D. John's repeated petitions and Escovedo's violent letters,
no money came from Spain, nor could D. John have found, by begging in
all the exchanges and banks, any to lend him the necessary sum, because
the King of Spain's credit was very bad in Flanders.
In this difficulty D. John told Monsignor Sega, and, showing him all the
trouble of the situation, asked him to lend the 50,000 golden crowns
destined by Gregory XIII for the unlucky expedition to England, to pay
the soldiers, pledging his word and oath, in the name of his brother,
that they should be quickly and surely returned. Escovedo was able to
negotiate, for his part, by pledging his credit and oath, for the rest
of the amount that remained to pay off this dangerous debt, at the cost
of D. John's hopes and the self-denial of the secretary. By these means
the famous troops at last left Flanders for Italy, commanded by the
Count de Mansfeld, amid the great rejoicing of the Flemish rebels, who
then saw the coast clear for the further treasons they were plotting.
This put an end to the pretext for not receiving D. John and making over
the command to him, and he was proclaimed Governor at Louvain amid a
crowd of gentlemen, and the real joy of some and the false and feigned
enthusiasm of the rest. From there he went to Brussels, in spite of the
fact that the loyal Count of Barlaimont warned him that they were
conspiring against his life and liberty. He came in sight of the city on
the 4th of May, and an hour before his entry an insurrection broke out,
promoted by the followers of the Prince of Orange. One Cornelius
Straten, a known agent and leader of highwaymen, began to harangue the
crowd, telling them that they should not let the Austrian traitor enter
Brussels, who, with falseness and deceit, was bringing them death. Upon
this a mass of riotous people dashed towards the gates of the city,
overthrowing the guards, and lowered the portcullis. The magistrates
arrived in haste, and, arresting Straten, quieted the tumult and cleared
the gates. D. John arrived a few minutes later, calm and quiet, showing
his bravery and greatness by dismissing his guard of halberdiers, as a
proof of his confidence in the people. This is how Famiano Strada refers
to D. John's entry into Brussels and his first acts as Governor:
"But the Austrian, at the time the Spaniards left, entered
Brussels with extraordinary pomp, between the Pontiff's delegate
and the Bishop of Liége and a complete deputation of all the
States. It was he who made the brilliance of the show, with his
debonair person—he was not thirty-two—laden with fame and
triumphs by land and sea, and with these adornments representing
his father, the Cæsar Charles, beloved and popular name among
Flemings. Having solemnly sworn at the beginning of his
government, he started to fulfil these promises with incredible
clemency, rare affability, and all sorts of kindnesses, and an
unheard-of liberality, exercised towards those who had the least
claim, to such an extent that the citizens, attracted by his
gentle bearing, forgetting their first ideas, and how much they
had said against him, outbid each other in praising him,
principally for having seen him one day without the foreign
militia, and they congratulated themselves that the Austrian had
brought its former happiness back to Flanders."
Philip II wrote to thank D. John for his trouble, very pleased with his
conduct, and letting him plainly understand that there was no reason for
definitely giving up the English plan.
"On the 14th of last month," he says, "I told you of the arrival
of Concha, and of the receipt of the dispatches which he
brought, and how pleased I was to learn the good state of
affairs through the arrangement you have made with the States,
and the satisfaction everything you have done has given me, and
this to the extent that I do not content myself with what I
wrote then, without again thanking you for it, and certifying
that it has given me such satisfaction, that, although nothing
could add to the love I have for you, the desire to prove to you
how much I esteem your work, and the fruit and success which has
followed from it in all the business of my service, that I shall
praise you more each day, and my care will grow for all that
concerns you, knowing that every day you are putting me under
fresh obligations by remaining in the same cares and work as
heretofore, in order that the affairs of these States may become
settled, and that which is best for the service of God and my
service may be established; and although what you have done
hitherto is much, what is before you is indescribably more. And
as I know this, you may believe that it gratifies me much to
show you the good-will which I have towards you in all that
occurs, and that things will go on in such a way that that of
England will be effected."
In the next line, and as if it were a means of arriving at this
conquest, so desired by D. John, he insinuates his approval of the new
and strange plans, invented by we know not whom, of substituting the
marriage of D. John and Mary Stuart, which would cost blood and money,
for that of D. John with Elizabeth of England, to which she seemed
inclined.
"As to the marriage with the Queen of England, what I can tell
you is that if in this way and with this view it could be
treated of and brought about, it would be doing a great service
and sacrifice to Our Lord, converting this kingdom to the
Catholic Religion, which is in itself such an honour and glory
that nothing can surpass it."
But D. John did not desire to be King of England by any and every means,
but by those of justice and nobleness, conquering the kingdom with his
sword, setting the lawful Queen, Mary Stuart, at liberty, and sharing
her throne by her own wish. He therefore protested against this short
cut of ignominy, which would lead him peaceably to the English throne,
with no more exertion than that of joining his fate to that of a
usurper, by her own apostasy and vices the scandal of Europe. "The
favours the Queen of England is everywhere conferring," answered D. John
to his brother, "are not so unimportant as to be disregarded and steps
not taken to prevent them; as the world is so full already of heretics,
she has very efficient ministers everywhere. It is natural to those whom
God rejects to take much thought for things here, and thus does this
unhappy Queen and her followers, of whose life and morals I have heard
and hear so much, _that I do not care to jest even about marrying her_."
The summer was drawing on, and the letters from Madrid began to grow
fewer in a strange way, and nothing was said in them of the absolute
want of money, or of the loans which D. John and Escovedo had raised,
pledging their own word and credit, until at last D. John decided to
send the secretary to Rome, and from there to Spain, to tell Gregory
XIII everything about the English expedition, and to require from the
King the prompt acknowledgment and repayment of the debt contracted with
the Pope, and of the letters honoured by Escovedo, compromising his
credit and honour.
Escovedo set out at the beginning of July, and D. John said good-bye to
him at Mechlin, little thinking he was sending him to be treacherously
killed by a sword-thrust in a lane at Madrid.