Chapter 25
[Sidenote: EGMONT SENT TO SPAIN.]
Egmont's reception at Madrid was of the most flattering kind. Philip's demeanor towards his great va.s.sal was marked by unusual benignity; and the courtiers, readily taking their cue from their sovereign, vied with one another in attentions to the man whose prowess might be said to have won for Spain the great victories of Gravelines and St. Quentin. In fine, Egmont, whose brilliant exterior and n.o.ble bearing gave additional l.u.s.tre to his reputation, was the object of general admiration during his residence of several weeks at Madrid. It seemed as if the court of Castile was prepared to change its policy, from the flattering attentions it thus paid to the representative of the Netherlands.
During his stay, Egmont was admitted to several audiences, in which he exposed to the monarch the evils that beset the country, and the measures proposed for relieving them. As the two most effectual, he pressed him to mitigate the edicts, and to reorganize the council of state.[648] Philip listened with much benignity to these suggestions of the Flemish n.o.ble; and if he did not acquiesce, he gave no intimation to the contrary, except by a.s.suring the count of his determination to maintain the integrity of the Catholic faith. To Egmont personally he showed the greatest indulgence, and the count's private suits sped as favorably as he could have expected. But a remarkable anecdote proves that Philip, at this very time, with all this gracious demeanor, had not receded one step from the ground he had always occupied.
Not long after Egmont's arrival, Philip privately called a meeting of the most eminent theologians in the capital. To this conclave he communicated briefly the state of the Low Countries, and their demand to enjoy freedom of conscience in matters of religion. He concluded by inquiring the opinion of his auditors on the subject. The reverend body, doubtless supposing that the king only wanted their sanction to extricate himself from the difficulties of his position, made answer, "that, considering the critical situation of Flanders, and the imminent danger, if thwarted, of its disloyalty to the crown and total defection from the Church, he might be justified in allowing the people freedom of wors.h.i.+pping in their own way." To this Philip sternly replied, "He had not called them to learn whether he _might_ grant this to the Flemings, but whether he _must_ do so."[649] The flexible conclave, finding they had mistaken their cue, promptly answered in the negative; on which Philip, prostrating himself on the ground before a crucifix, exclaimed, "I implore thy divine majesty, Ruler of all things, that thou keep me in the mind that I am in, never to allow myself either to become or to be called the lord of those who reject thee for their Lord."[650]--The story was told to the historian who records it by a member of the a.s.sembly, filled with admiration at the pious zeal of the monarch! From that moment the doom of the Netherlands was sealed.
Yet Egmont had so little knowledge of the true state of things, that he indulged in the most cheerful prognostications for the future. His frank and cordial nature readily responded to the friendly demonstrations he received, and his vanity was gratified by the homage universally paid to him. On leaving the country, he made a visit to the royal residences of Segovia and of the Escorial,--the magnificent pile already begun by Philip, and which continued to occupy more or less of his time during the remainder of his reign. Egmont, in a letter addressed to the king, declares himself highly delighted with what he has seen at both these places, and a.s.sures his sovereign that he returns to Flanders the most contented man in the world.[651]
When arrived there, early in April, 1565, the count was loud in his profession of the amiable dispositions of the Castilian court towards the Netherlands. Egmont's countrymen--William of Orange and a few persons of cooler judgment alone excepted--readily indulged in the same dream of sanguine expectation, flattering themselves with the belief that a new policy was to prevail at Madrid, and that their country was henceforth to thrive under the blessings of religious toleration.--It was a pleasing illusion, destined to be of no long duration.
CHAPTER IX.
PHILIP'S INFLEXIBILITY.
Philip's Duplicity.--His Procrastination.--Despatches from Segovia.--Effect on the Country.--The Compromise.--Orange and Egmont.
1565, 1566.
Shortly after Egmont's return to Brussels, Margaret called a meeting of the council of state, at which the sealed instructions brought by the envoy from Madrid were opened and read. They began by noticing the count's demeanor in terms so flattering as showed the mission had proved acceptable to the king. Then followed a declaration, strongly expressed and sufficiently startling. "I would rather lose a hundred thousand lives, if I had so many," said the monarch, "than allow a single change in matters of religion."[652] He, however, recommended that a commission be appointed, consisting of three bishops with a number of jurists, who should advise with the members of the council as to the best mode of instructing the people, especially in their spiritual concerns. It might be well, moreover, to subst.i.tute some secret methods for the public forms of execution, which now enabled the heretic to a.s.sume to himself the glory of martyrdom, and thereby produce a mischievous impression on the people.[653] No other allusion was made to the pressing grievances of the nation, though, in a letter addressed at the same time to the d.u.c.h.ess, Philip said that he had come to no decision as to the council of state, where the proposed change seemed likely to be attended with inconvenience.[654]
[Sidenote: PHILIP'S DUPLICITY.]
This, then, was the result of Egmont's mission to Madrid! This the change so much vaunted in the policy of Philip! "The count has been the dupe of Spanish cunning," exclaimed the prince of Orange. It was too true; and Egmont felt it keenly, as he perceived the ridicule to which he was exposed by the confident tone in which he had talked of the amiable dispositions of the Castilian court, and by the credit he had taken to himself for promoting them.[655]
A greater sensation was produced among the people; for their expectations had been far more sanguine than those entertained by William, and the few who, like him, understood the character of Philip too well to place great confidence in the promises of Egmont. They loudly declaimed against the king's insincerity, and accused their envoy of having shown more concern for his private interests than for those of the public. This taunt touched the honor of that n.o.bleman, who bitterly complained that it was an artifice of Philip to destroy his credit with his countrymen; and the better to prove his good faith, he avowed his purpose of throwing up at once all the offices he held under government.[656]
The spirit of persecution, after a temporary lull, now again awakened.
But everywhere the inquisitors were exposed to insult, and met with the same resistance as before; while their victims were cheered with expressions of sympathy from those who saw them led to execution. To avoid the contagion of example, the executions were now conducted secretly in the prisons.[657] But the mystery thus thrown around the fate of the unhappy sufferer only invested it with an additional horror.
Complaints were made every day to the government by the states, the magistrates, and the people, denouncing the persecutions to which they were exposed. Spies, they said, were in every house, watching looks, words, gestures. No man was secure, either in person or property. The public groaned under an intolerable slavery.[658] Meanwhile, the Huguenot emissaries were busy as ever in propagating their doctrines; and with the work of reform was mingled the seed of revolution.
The regent felt the danger of this state of things, and her impotence to relieve it. She did all she could in freely exposing it to Philip, informing him at the same time of Egmont's disgust, and the general discontent of the nation, at the instructions from Spain. She ended, as usual, by beseeching her brother to come himself, if he would preserve his authority in the Netherlands.[659] To these communications the royal answers came but rarely; and, when they did come, were for the most part vague and unsatisfactory.
"Everything goes on with Philip," writes Chantonnay, formerly minister to France, to his brother Granvelle,--"Everything goes on from to-morrow to to-morrow; the only resolution is, to remain irresolute.[660] The king will allow matters to become so entangled in the Low Countries, that, if he ever should visit them, he will find it easier to conform to the state of things than to mend it. The lords there are more of kings than the king himself.[661] They have all the smaller n.o.bles in leading-strings. It is impossible that Philip should conduct himself like a man.[662] His only object is to cajole the Flemish n.o.bles, so that he may be spared the necessity of coming to Flanders."
"It is a pity," writes the secretary, Perez, "that the king will manage affairs as he does, now taking counsel of this man, and now of that; concealing some matters from those he consults, and trusting them with others, showing full confidence in no one. With this way of proceeding, it is no wonder that despatches should be contradictory in their tenor."[663]
It is doubtless true, that procrastination and distrust were the besetting sins of Philip, and were followed by their natural consequences. He had, moreover, as we have seen, a sluggishness of nature, which kept him in Madrid when he should have been in Brussels,--where his father, in similar circ.u.mstances, would long since have been, seeing with his own eyes what Philip saw only with the eyes of others. But still his policy, in the present instance, may be referred quite as much to deliberate calculation as to his natural temper. He had early settled it as a fixed principle never to concede religious toleration to his subjects. He had intimated this pretty clearly in his different communications to the government of Flanders.
That he did not announce it in a more absolute and unequivocal form may well have arisen from the apprehension, that, in the present irritable state of the people, this might rouse their pa.s.sions into a flame. At least, it might be reserved for a last resort. Meanwhile, he hoped to weary them out by maintaining an att.i.tude of cold reserve; until, convinced of the hopelessness of resistance, they would cease altogether to resist. In
Considering the natural bent of the king's disposition, there seems no reason to charge Granvelle, as was commonly done in the Low Countries, with having given a direction to his policy. It is, however, certain, that, on all great questions, the minister's judgment seems to have perfectly coincided with that of his master. "If your majesty mitigates the edicts," writes the cardinal, "affairs will become worse in Flanders than they are in France."[664] No change should be allowed in the council of state.[665] A meeting of the states-general would inflict an injury which the king would feel for thirty years to come![666]
Granvelle maintained a busy correspondence with his partisans in the Low Countries, and sent the results of it--frequently the original letters themselves--to Madrid. Thus Philip, by means of the reports of the great n.o.bles on the one hand, and of the Cardinalists on the other, was enabled to observe the movements in Flanders from the most opposite points of view.
[Sidenote: HIS PROCRASTINATION.]
The king's replies to the letters of the minister were somewhat scanty, to judge from the complaints which Granvelle made of his neglect. With all this, the cardinal professes to be well pleased that he is rid of so burdensome an office as that of governing the Netherlands. "Here," he writes to his friend Viglius, "I make good cheer, busying myself with my own affairs, and preparing my despatches in quiet, seldom leaving the house, except to take a walk, to attend church, or to visit my mother."[667] In this simple way of life, the philosophic statesman seems to have pa.s.sed his time to his own satisfaction, though it is evident, notwithstanding his professions, that he cast many a longing look back to the Netherlands, the seat of his brief authority. "The hatred the people of Flanders bear me," he writes to Philip, "afflicts me sorely; but I console myself that it is for the service of G.o.d and my king."[668] The cardinal, amid his complaints of the king's neglect, affected the most entire submission to his will. "I would go anywhere,"
he writes,--"to the Indies, anywhere in the world,--would even throw myself into the fire, did you desire it."[669] Philip, not long after, put these professions to the test. In October, 1565, he yielded to the regent's importunities, and commanded Granvelle to transfer his residence to Rome. The cardinal would not move. "Anywhere," he wrote to his master, "but to Rome. That is a place of ceremonies and empty show, for which I am nowise qualified. Besides, it would look too much like a submission on your part. My diocese of Mechlin has need of me; now, if I should go to Spain, it would look as if I went to procure the aid which it so much requires."[670] But the cabinet of Madrid were far from desiring the presence of so cunning a statesman to direct the royal counsels. The orders were reiterated, to go to Rome. To Rome, accordingly, the reluctant minister went; and we have a letter from him to the king, dated from that capital, the first of February, 1566, in which he counsels his master by no means to think of introducing the Spanish Inquisition into the Netherlands.[671] It might seem as if, contrary to the proverb, change of climate had wrought some change in the disposition of the cardinal.--From this period, Granvelle, so long the terror of the Low Countries, disappears from the management of their affairs. He does not, however, disappear from the political theatre. We shall again meet with the able and ambitious prelate, first as viceroy of Naples, and afterwards at Madrid occupying the highest station in the councils of his sovereign.
Early in July, 1565, the commission of reform appointed by Philip transmitted its report to Spain. It recommended no change in the present laws, except so far as to authorize the judges to take into consideration the age and s.e.x of the accused, and in case of penitence to commute the capital punishment of the convicted heretic for banishment. Philip approved of the report in all particulars,--except the only particular that involved a change, that of mercy to the penitent heretic.[672]
At length, the king resolved on such an absolute declaration of his will as should put all doubts on the matter at rest, and relieve him from further importunity. On the seventeenth of October, 1565, he addressed that memorable letter to his sister, from the Wood of Segovia, which may be said to have determined the fate of the Netherlands. Philip, in this, intimates his surprise that his letters should appear to Egmont inconsistent with what he had heard from his lips at Madrid. His desire was not for novelty in anything. He would have the Inquisition conducted by the inquisitors, as it had hitherto been, and as by right, divine and human, belonged to them.[673] For the edicts, it was no time in the present state of religion to make any change; both his own and those of his father must be executed. The Anabaptists--a sect for which, as the especial b.u.t.t of persecution, much intercession had been made--must be dealt with according to the rigor of the law. Philip concluded by conjuring the regent and the lords in the council faithfully to obey his commands, as in so doing they would render the greatest service to the cause of religion and of their country,--which last, he adds, without the execution of these ordinances, would be of little worth.[674]
In a private letter to the regent of nearly the same date with these public despatches, Philip speaks of the proposed changes in the council of state as a subject on which he had not made up his mind.[675] He notices also the proposed convocation of the states-general as a thing, in the present disorders of the country, altogether inexpedient.[676]--Thus the king's despatches covered nearly all the debatable ground on which the contest had been so long going on between the crown and the country. There could be no longer any complaint of ambiguity or reserve in the expression of the royal will. "G.o.d knows,"
writes Viglius, "what wry faces were made in the council on learning the absolute will of his majesty!"[677] There was not one of its members, not even the president or Barlaimont, who did not feel the necessity of bending to the tempest so far as to suspend, if not to mitigate, the rigor of the law. They looked to the future with gloomy apprehension.
Viglius strongly urged, that the despatches should not be made public till some further communication should be had with Philip to warn him of the consequences. In this he was opposed by the prince of Orange. "It was too late," he said, "to talk of what was expedient to be done. Since the will of his majesty was so unequivocally expressed, all that remained for the government was to execute it."[678] In vain did Viglius offer to take the whole responsibility of the delay on himself.
William's opinion, supported by Egmont and Hoorne, prevailed with the regent, too timid, by such an act of disobedience, to hazard the displeasure of her brother. As, late in the evening, the council broke up, William was heard to exclaim, "Now we shall see the beginning of a fine tragedy!"[679]
[Sidenote: EFFECT ON THE COUNTRY.]
In the month of December, the regent caused copies of the despatches, with extracts from the letters to herself, to be sent to the governors and the councils of the several provinces, with orders that they should see to their faithful execution. Officers, moreover, were to be appointed, whose duty it was to ascertain the manner in which these orders were fulfilled, and to report thereon to the government.
The result was what had been foreseen. The publication of the despatches--to borrow the words of a Flemish writer--created a sensation throughout the country little short of what would have been caused by a declaration of war.[680] Under every discouragement, men had flattered themselves, up to this period, with the expectation of some change for the better. The constantly increasing number of the Reformers, the persevering resistance to the Inquisition, the reiterated remonstrances to the government, the general persuasion that the great n.o.bles, even the regent, were on their side, had all combined to foster the hope that toleration, to some extent, would eventually be conceded by Philip.[681]
This hope was now crushed. Whatever doubts had been entertained were dispelled by these last despatches, which came like a hurricane, sweeping away the mists that had so long blinded the eyes of men, and laying open the policy of the crown, clear as day, to the dullest apprehension. The people pa.s.sed to the extremity of despair. The Spanish Inquisition, with its train of horrors, seemed to be already in the midst of them. They called to mind all the tales of woe they had heard of it. They recounted the atrocities perpetrated by the Spaniards in the New World, which, however erroneously, they charged on the Holy Office.
"Do they expect," they cried, "that we shall tamely wait here, like the wretched Indians, to be slaughtered by millions?"[682] Men were seen gathering into knots, in the streets and public squares, discussing the conduct of the government, and gloomily talking of secret a.s.sociations and foreign alliances. Meetings were stealthily held in the woods, and in the suburbs of the great towns, where the audience listened to fanatical preachers, who, while discussing the doctrines of religious reform, darkly hinted at resistance. Tracts were printed, and widely circulated, in which the reciprocal obligations of lord and va.s.sal were treated, and the right of resistance was maintained; and, in some instances, these difficult questions were handled with decided ability.
A more common form was that of satire and scurrilous lampoon,--a favorite weapon with the early Reformers. Their satirical sallies were levelled indifferently at the throne and the Church. The bishops were an obvious mark. No one was spared. Comedies were written to ridicule the clergy. Never since the discovery of the art of printing--more than a century before--had the press been turned into an engine of such political importance as in the earlier stages of the revolution in the Netherlands. Thousands of the seditious pamphlets thus thrown off were rapidly circulated among a people, the humblest of whom possessed what many a n.o.ble in other lands, at that day, was little skilled in,--the art of reading. Placards were nailed to the doors of the magistrates, in some of the cities, proclaiming that Rome stood in need of her Brutus.
Others were attached to the gates of Orange and Egmont, calling on them to come forth and save their country.[683]
Margaret was filled with alarm at these signs of disaffection throughout the land. She felt the ground trembling beneath her. She wrote again and again to Philip, giving full particulars of the state of the public sentiment, and the seditious spirit which seemed on the verge of insurrection. She intimated her wish to resign the government.[684] She besought him to allow the states-general to be summoned, and, at all events, to come in person and take the reins from her hands, too weak to hold them.--Philip coolly replied, that "he was sorry the despatches from Segovia had given such offence. They had been designed only for the service of G.o.d and the good of the country."[685]
In this general fermentation, a new cla.s.s of men came on the stage, important by their numbers, though they had taken no part as yet in political affairs. These were the lower n.o.bility of the country; men of honorable descent, and many of them allied by blood or marriage with the highest n.o.bles of the land. They were too often men of dilapidated fortunes, fallen into decay through their own prodigality, or that of their progenitors. Many had received their education abroad, some in Geneva, the home of Calvin, where they naturally imbibed the doctrines of the great Reformer. In needy circ.u.mstances, with no better possession than the inheritance of honorable traditions, or the memory of better days, they were urged by a craving, impatient spirit, which naturally made them prefer any change to the existing order of things. They were, for the most part, bred to arms; and, in the days of Charles the Fifth, had found an ample career opened to their ambition under the imperial banners. But Philip, with less policy than his father, had neglected to court this cla.s.s of his subjects, who, without fixed principles or settled motives of action, seemed to float on the surface of events, prepared to throw their weight, at any moment, into the scale of revolution.
[Sidenote: THE COMPROMISE.]
Some twenty of these cavaliers, for the most part young men, met together in the month of November, in Brussels, at the house of Count Culemborg, a n.o.bleman attached to the Protestant opinions. Their avowed purpose was to listen to the teachings of a Flemish divine, named Junius, a man of parts and learning, who had been educated in the school of Calvin, and who, having returned to the Netherlands, exercised, under the very eye of the regent, the dangerous calling of the missionary. At this meeting of the discontented n.o.bles, the talk naturally turned on the evils of the land, and the best means of remedying them. The result of the conferences was the formation of a league, the princ.i.p.al objects of which are elaborately set forth in a paper known as the "Compromise."[686]
This celebrated doc.u.ment declares that the king had been induced by evil counsellors,--for the most part foreigners,--in violation of his oath, to establish the Inquisition in the country; a tribunal opposed to all law, divine and human, surpa.s.sing in barbarity anything ever yet practised by tyrants,[687] tending to bring the land to utter ruin, and the inhabitants to a state of miserable bondage. The confederates, therefore, in order not to become the prey of those who, under the name of religion, seek only to enrich themselves at the expense of life and property,[688] bind themselves by a solemn oath to resist the establishment of the Inquisition, under whatever form it may be introduced, and to protect each other against it with their lives and fortunes. In doing this, they protest that, so far from intending anything to the dishonor of the king, their only intent is to maintain the king in his estate, and to preserve the tranquillity of the realm.
They conclude with solemnly invoking the blessing of the Almighty on this their lawful and holy confederation.
Such are some of the princ.i.p.al points urged in this remarkable instrument, in which little mention is made of the edicts, every other grievance being swallowed up in that of the detested Inquisition.
Indeed, the translations of the "Compromise," which soon appeared, in various languages, usually bore the t.i.tle of "League of the n.o.bles of Flanders against the Spanish Inquisition."[689]
It will hardly be denied that those who signed this instrument had already made a decided move in the game of rebellion. They openly arrayed themselves against the execution of the law and the authority of the crown. They charged the king with having violated his oath, and they accused him of abetting a persecution which, under the pretext of religion, had no other object than the spoil of its victims. It was of little moment that all this was done under professions of loyalty. Such professions are the decent cover with which the first approaches are always made in a revolution.--The copies of the instrument differ somewhat from each other. One of these, before me, as if to give the edge of personal insult to their remonstrance, cla.s.ses in the same category "the vagabond, the priest, and the _Spaniard_."[690]
Among the small company who first subscribed the doc.u.ment, we find names that rose to eminence in the stormy scenes of the revolution. There was Count Louis of Na.s.sau, a younger brother of the prince of Orange, the "_bon chevalier_," as William used to call him,--a t.i.tle well earned by his generous spirit and many n.o.ble and humane qualities. Louis was bred a Lutheran, and was zealously devoted to the cause of reform, when his brother took but a comparatively languid interest in it. His ardent, precipitate temper was often kept in check, and more wisely directed, by the prudent counsels of William; while he amply repaid his brother by his devoted attachment, and by the zeal and intrepidity with which he carried out his plans. Louis, indeed, might be called the right hand of William.
Another of the party was Philip de Marnix, lord of St. Aldegonde. He was the intimate friend of William of Orange. In the words of a Belgian writer, he was one of the beautiful characters of the time;[691]
distinguished alike as a soldier, a statesman, and a scholar. It is to his pen that the composition of the "Compromise" has generally been a.s.signed. Some critics have found its tone inconsistent with the sedate and tranquil character of his mind. Yet St. Aldegonde's device, "_Repos ailleurs_,"[692] would seem to indicate a fervid imagination and an impatient spirit of activity.
But the man who seems to have entered most heartily into these first movements of the revolution was Henry, viscount of Brederode. He sprung from an ancient line, boasting his descent from the counts of Holland.
The only possession that remained to him, the lords.h.i.+p of Viana, he still claimed to hold as independent of the king of Spain, or any other potentate. His patrimony had been wasted in a course of careless indulgence, and little else was left than barren t.i.tles and pretensions,--which, it must be owned, he was not diffident in vaunting.
He was fond of convivial pleasures, and had a free, reckless humor, that took with the people, to whom he was still more endeared by his st.u.r.dy hatred of oppression. Brederode was, in short, one of those busy, vaporing characters, who make themselves felt at the outset of a revolution, but are soon lost in the course of it; like those ominous birds which with their cries and screams herald in the tempest that soon sweeps them out of sight for ever.
Copies of the "Compromise," with the names attached to it, were soon distributed through all parts of the country, and eagerly signed by great numbers, not merely of the petty n.o.bility and gentry, but of substantial burghers and wealthy merchants, men who had large interests at stake in the community. Hames, king-at-arms of the Golden Fleece, who was a zealous confederate, boasted that the names of two thousand such persons were on his paper.[693] Among them were many Roman Catholics; and we are again called to notice, that in the outset this Protestant revolution received important support from the Catholics themselves, who forgot all religious differences in a common hatred of arbitrary power.
[Sidenote: ALARM OF THE COUNTRY.]