m S^gjBkBm UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA Sckeel of Libt.ry 00022226869 Science ^O^Z^jL °y; /^v^ • Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2012 with funding from University of North Carolina at Chapel Hil http://archive.org/details/storyofwilliamsiOOnutt WILLIAM THE SILENT. From an ancient English engraving. THE STORY OF WILLIAM THE SILENT THE NETIIERLAND WAR, 1555—1584. BY MARY BARRETT.MCU- PUBLISHED BY WARREN AND BLAKESLEE, 251 WASHINGTON STREET, BOSTON. Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1869, by WARREN AND BLAKESLEE, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massa- chusetts. PREFACE. Tnis book is designed particularly for young persons who have not time or opportunity to read the stflry in full, in the extensive works of our standard authors. The boys and girls of the American republic should know by what struggle religious liberty has been won, in other countries and other times. It is good to behold moral hero- ism anywhere; and we shall rarely find it more sublimely disj:>layed than in the scenes of the Neth- erland war. It might be added that, to not a few of our citizens, this is the history of their own fatherland. The authorities chiefly consulted have been the works of Motley and Prescott, which we hope many of our young readers will hereafter study for themselves. In regard to the accompanying map, 4 PREFACE. we may remark that the changes in internal bound- aries which have occurred in the lapse of three hundred years render it obviously impossible to reproduce the former outlines of some of the prov- inces with absolute correctness ; but we trust the representation is sufficiently accurate to explain the narrative. . m. b. NOTE. The bird's eye view of Leyden given at page 362 is taken from a memorial volume, published at Leyden, on the third tennial of the University, which occurred in 1725. In those days the old Rhine did not run into the sea at all, but was lost in the vast sand hills which were constantly accumulat- ing on the coast. This was the case for many centuries ; but a channel has now been cut through. The portion of the city wall which fell during the last night of the siege may be identified on the bird's eye view, as that lying between the gate next Lammen, called the Cow-gate or Meadow-gate, and the first tower to the eastward on the read er's right hand. The great church, or cathedral, may be seen in the western part of the city, not far from the Cow-gate ; the old tower, and the church of Saint Pancras, are near the junc- tion of the two channels of the river. CONTENTS CHAPTER I. THE SCENE OF THE STORT 13 Connection between the history of Holland and that of Ameri- ca — The Netherlands described — Their government — Early history. CHAPTER II. THE YOUTH OF THE PRINCE 20 Nassau and Orange described — William's parentage and early training — Favorite page of the emperor — Magnificent es- tablishment at Brussels — Abdication of Charles V. CHAPTER III. A SECRET DISCOVERED 34 Treaty of Cateau-Cambresis — "William a hostage at the French court — Hunting-party in the wood of Vincennes —Confi- dential disclosures — The surname of the "Silent" — William's resolve — Philip n. sails for Spain — Perilous voy- age — Auto-da-fe at Valladolid. CHAPTER IV. INQUISITIONS AND INQUISITORS 44 Dawn of the Reformation in the Netherlands — Edicts of Charles V. — New bishops-^- Why the people opposed them 5 6 CONTENTS. — Three forms of the inquisition — Stories of a model in- quisitor — Case of Bertrand Le Bias — How many sous were charged for burning a man alive. CHAPTER V. THE PRINCE'S WEDDING- 67 Anna of Saxony — Obstacles to the match — How the reli- gious question was settled — Entertainment of the guests — Going out to meet the bridegroom — Grand banquet and tournaments. CHAPTER VI. TROUBLE WITH THE CARDINAL 67 Granvelle as prime minister — Hostility of the Netherlander — Remonstrances of the chief nobles — Why Marquis Ber- ghen hesitated to burn heretics — Caricature of the cardi- nal—The foolscap livery — The cardinal sent to visit his mother — His volunteer escort. CHAPTER VII. EGMONT'S MISSION TO SPAIN 82 Needful reforms proposed — The city of Bruges versus Inquis- itor Titlemann— What the decrees of Trent were — Scene in the council — Egmont's reception in Spain — Result of his embassy — Proclamation of the decrees — Two memorable weddings. CHAPTER VIII. THE LEAGUE AND THE BEGGARS 96 Sermon of Junius at Culemberg House — Object of the League — Brederode presents the "Request" — Berlaymont's gibe — The banquet— Order of " The Beggars " instituted— Bre- derode's alleged crime at Antwerp. CONTENTS. 7 CHAPTER IX. THE FIELD-PREACHING Ill How Margaret dealt with an offender at Tournay — The" Mod- eration " — Berghen and Montigny sent to Spain — Mid- night gathering at the bridge of Ernonville —.The monk's sermon at Harlem — Alarm of the Duchess — She appeals to William of Orange. CHAPTER X. THE IMAGE-BREAKING 126 Splendor of Netherland churches — Festival of the Omme- gang at Antwerp — ' ' Mayken ' ' — Antwerp cathedral — Hes- itation of the magistrates — A night of destruction — Effect of the tumult — Terror of Margaret —She signs the "Ac- cord." CHAPTER XL •'PHILIP THE PRUDENT." 144 How the king treated the case of the Netherlands — Pre- tended concessions privately revoked — " Masterly dissimu- lation " — Remorse of Margaret for having granted the ac- cord—Sarcasm perpetrated by Don Carlos — How they "pacified" Flanders and Tournay. CHAPTER XII. THE FIRST SIEGE, AND WHAT CAME OF IT. . . 157 Valenciennes invested — Merry-making of the citizens— The Ostrawall massacre — Excitement of spectators in Ant- werp—The prince at the Red-gate — The Plaee de Meer barricaded — How the three days ended — Impending fate of Valenciennes — Cannonade of the white tower— Surren- der— Butchery of the citizens. 8 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XIII. DEPARTURE OF ORANGE, AND COMING OF ALVA. 174 The Dendermonde conference — The prince declines the new oath — Last interview between Egmont and Orange — The prince quits the Netherlands — The Duke of Alva — Roman- tic incident of his early life — Approach of the army —What the duke had been commissioned to do. CHAPTER XIV. THE SEIGNIORS ARRESTED 189 How Count Horn was enticed to Brussels — Don Ferdinando's dinner-party — Mysterious warnings — Council at the Jas- Bey House — The arrests — Alva's new tribunal — Treason defined — The Blood Council at work— Number of victims. CHAPTER XV. THE NATION'S DEATH-WARRANT 205 Margaret resigns the regency — Orange summoned by the Council of Blood — Kidnapping of the little Count de Buren — Wholesale sentence of death. CHAPTER XVI. EXECUTION OF EGMONT AND HORN 215 Preparations for war — Count Louis in Friesland — Victory of Heiliger Lee — Proceedings against Egmont and Horn — Sentence pronounced — The last night of the condemned — Scenes of the scaffold. CHAPTER XVII. THE DUKE'S NORTHERN CAMPAIGN 229 Alva's first encounter with the insurgents — Retreat of Louis —Mutinous spirit of his troops — Defeat of Jemmingen — The Vrow Van Diemen beheaded at Utrecht — Antony Van- Straalen — Fate of " Red-Rod." CONTENTS. CHAPTER XVIII. ORANGE FOILED 239 Four expeditions planned — Disastrous termination of the first three — Advice of William's German friends — The prince as a religious man — The emperor's attitude— " Jus- tification " published by the prince — The campaign com- menced—Crossing theMeuse — Fate of Hoogstraaten — The campaign fruitless — Alva's self-glorification — The archduke sent to Madrid — Matrimonial complications. CHAPTER XIX. THE DUKE TRIES FINANCIERING 256 Story of Dirk Willemzoon^-The jeweled hat and sword — Philip's embarrassments — The river of gold drying up — The duke's pet scheme of taxation — General excitement — Utrecht stubborn — Proclamation of amnesty — A royal tragedy privately performed — Inundation of Friesland. CHAPTER XX. THE "SPECTACLES" STOLEN 271 Secret correspondence — Straitened circumstances of the prince — Renewed agitation about the tenth-penny tax — Business suspended — Stringent measures resolved upon — Alva's late quarrel with Queen Elizabeth — De la Marck be- fore Brill — Capture of the city — Alva's wrath — The carica- ture of the spectacles — Bossu's unsuccessful attempt to re- cover Brill. CHAPTER XXI. SUNSHINE AND STORM 289 Sudden success — Mons occupied by Count Louis— News of the massacre of Saint Bartholomew— Surrender of Mona — Sack of Mechlin —Massacre of Zutphen and Naarden. 10 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXII. FALL OF HARLEM 303 Location and importance of the city — The Dutch amazons — Unsuccessful attempts to send relief — First general assault — Novel weapons of defense — Mines and countermines — Midnight attack — Ravelin blown up — Famine at hand — John Haring on the Diemerdyk — Command of the lake lost — Extremity of the famine — Desperate resolve of the citizens — Fall of the city — Composure of the prince in time of de- feat. CHAPTER XXIII. ALKMAAR SAVED. . <• 323 The city invested — William's reliance upon God — Dangerous expedition of Peter Van der Mey — Repeated assaults- Abandonment of the siege — John Haring's last exploit — Renewal of negotiations with France — Philip's secret ambi- tion — Aims of Orange — Alva's departure from the Nether- lands. CHAPTER XXIV. DEATH OF COUNT LOUIS 338 The new governor-general — Naval battle of Bergen-op-Zoom — Count Louis threatens Maestricht — Unsuccessful maneu- vers—Battle of Mookerheyde — The last charge — Character of Louis of Nassau. CHAPTER XXV. SIEGE OF LEYDEN 346 Description of the city — Forces of besiegers and besieged — Offer of amnesty — The last resort — Breaking the dikes — Sickness of the prince — Boisot's expedition — Distress of the citizens —The ancient tower — Heroic firmness of the burgomaster — The tempest — The last night — Leyden saved — Founding of the university. CONTENTS. 1 1 CHAPTER XXVI. CAPTURE OF SCHOUWEN 365 Secret negotiations — Government of Holland and Zealand assumed by Orange — Breda conferences — Third marriage of the prince — Scheme for recovering Schouwen — The mid- night march through the sea — Fall of the capital. CHAPTER XXVII. THE "ANTWERP FURY." 378 Custom of mutiny in Spanish armies — The interregnum — Alost seized by the mutineers — Alarm in Brussels — Peril of Antwerp — The citadel threatens the city — Attempt to fortify it — Arrival of the mutineers — The attack — The last struggle — Anecdotes of the massacre. CHAPTER XXVIII. THE GHENT PACIFICATION 397 Attempt to secure a union of all the states — The congress of Ghent —The treaty signed — Recovery of Schouwen — Early history of Don John of Austria — His romantic character — Conference with the deputies — Union of Brussels — The " Perpetual Edict " —Attempts to bribe Orange. CHAPTER XXIX. UNEXPECTED MOVEMENTS 414 Don John recognized as governor — His impatience of the po- sition — Sudden seizure of Namur — Orange invited to Brus- sels — The runaway archduke — Don John repudiated — Hostilities renewed — How Amsterdam was cleared of Ro- man Catholic intriguers — Coquetry of Elizabeth — Negotia- tions with Anjou — Embarrassing position of Don John — Mournful close of his career. 12 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXX. THE UNION OF UTRECHT 434 Alexander of Parma — Traitors in themarket-r- Alienation of the Walloon provinces from the northern states — Union formed at Utrecht — The Walloons " reconciled " — Siege and fall of Maestricht. CHAPTER XXXI. INDEPENDENCE DECLARED 448 Conference of Cologne — Treason of de Bours and of Renne- berg — Secret advances to Orange — Schemes for his assas- sination — The prince placed under the ban — The celebrat- ed " Apology" — Act of abjuration. CHAPTER XXXII. CONSPIRACIES AND CRIMES 461 Attempt of Jaureguy —The assassin and accomplices — Criti- cal condition of the prince — His final recovery — Death of the princess — Anjou's "muzzle " inconvenient — His at- tempt upon the cities— The "French Fury " — Death of Anjou. CHAPTER XXXIII. THE ASSASSINATION 472 Previous attempts to take the prince's life — Residence at Delft — Balthazar Gerard — The deed done — Last words of the prince —His burial — Conclusion. u'ltiuli' Kn>l t'p.in (iri'i-nwii'li. IE NETHERLANDS. WILLIAM THE SILENT AND THE NETHEELAND WAR. CHAPTER I. THE SCENE OF THE STORY. f»HE love of liberty runs in the Anglo- y l Saxon blood. We Americans have it as y$ an inherited trait. It grows only the more marked* and irrepressible as generations go by ; just as streams are wont to flow with fuller and deeper current as they approach the sea. It is worth while to trace it back a little way ; for it was not always the great, tranquil, majestic river on which we now gaze. Farther up, we shall find it a wild mountain torrent, dashing and foaming among the rocks that hem 13 14 WILLIAM THE SILEtfT. it in, and making headlong leaps over the bar- riers it can not sweep away. The long struggle carried on by the people of the Netherlands against the despotism of Philip II. and the Inquisition has had not a little to do with our own national history. Our forefathers took heart to fight for liberty here because theirs had done the like in England, in the preceding century ; and the brave Hol- landers had set the example, a hundred years before that. As Motley has observed, the so- called revolutions of the Netherlands, England, and America are all links of one chain. In our day, another still has been added ; for, no longer content with freedom for our own race merely, we have given it also to the slave. It was just three hundred years ago that the great contest between the Netherlands and Spain was begun. At that time, the population of the Low Countries numbered three millions, the same as that of the American colonies at the commencement of our own Revolution. Their entire territory*, however, was less than that embraced in the three States of Vermont, THE SCENE OF THE STORY. 15 New Hampshire, and Massachusetts. Much of this narrow domain consisted of land reclaimed from the sea. It had been preserved and made habitable only by a vast amount of labor and expense. Immense dikes were required to de- fend its low, flat shores from the invasions of the ocean. These dikes, lying one within an- other in successive lines, fortified the whole coast ; they girdled the numerous islands ; they stretched along on either side of the rivers, to prevent their overflow. Many of them were from seventy to more than one hundred feet in thickness at the base, and forty feet in bight, reckoning from low-water mark. At the top, they were broad enough to form excellent car- riage-roads. Of course the cost of this vast system of defenses was enormous. It is said that two dikes on the island of Walcheren alone require an outlay of sixty thousand dollars a year. They are built somewhat like a wharf, of huge timbers, or sometimes of bundles of ' trees which are cultivated for the purpose, filled in with great blocks of stone brought from Norway. They are often covered with soil, and 16 WILLIAM THE SILENT. crowned with willows. In spite of all possible pains, however, inundations sometimes occur, which deluge vast tracts of country, and occa- sion immense destruction of property and life. Notwithstanding this little country has al- ways had so much ado to keep its head above water, at the time when our story begins it had already grown fair and rich through the enter- prise and industry of its inhabitants. Its manu- factures and its commerce were immense. Its cities numbered not less than three hundred and fifty ; and there were six or seven thousand large towns besides. There were seventeen of the Netherland provinces, each in a great measure independent of the rest, and possessing statutes and privi- leges of its own. They all acknowledged the same hereditary sovereign, however, though under different titles. Thus the ruler was "Count of Holland," "Duke of Brabant," " Marquis of Antwerp," and so on. If ever called king, it was because, like Philip of Spain, he was king of some other realm. The power of the sovereign was more or less limited by the THE SCENE OF THE STORY. 17 charters of privileges possessed by the several states, to which he was obliged to swear fidelity on assuming the government. The seventeen provinces were further united by having a kind of congress, called the " es- tates-general." To this body deputies were sent from each state. They were elected, how- ever, not by the people, but either by certain cities and corporations, or by privileged classes, as the nobles and the clergy. The chief busi- ness of the estates-general was to grant, or to refuse, the pecuniary supplies which were re- quested either by their sovereign in person, or by his stadth older. Upon the whole, the Neth- erlands enjoyed a greater measure of political freedom than almost any other country pos- sessed at that day. Such as it was, they were well content ; and might they have kept undis- puted the privileges their ancient charters gave them, they would have asked no more. During the first half of the fifteenth century, a certain duke of Burgundy, called Philip the Good, contrived to make himself master of the principal Netherland states, partly by inherit- 18 WILLIAM THE SILENT. ance, partly by purchase, and partly by usur- pation. His son, Charles the Bold, having no male heir, left his broad domains to his only daughter, the Lady Mary ; and by her mar- riage to the Archduke Maximilian, the sover- eignty of the provinces was transferred from the house of Burgundy to that of Austria. , In 1496, the son of Maximilian, Philip the Fair, married Joanna of Castile, the only child of Fer- dinand and Isabella. Of this marriage was born the celebrated Charles V., who was thus heir both to the Netherland possessions and to Spain. In addition to the titles of Count of Holland, and King of Spain, Sicily, and Jerusalem, he was styled Duke of Milan, Emperor of Germa- ny, and Dominator in Asia and Africa ; all which, together with his vast possessions on the newly-discovered American continent, made him virtually autocrat of half the world. Thus the Netherlands became entangled with Spain to a degree which was to prove suf- ficiently disastrous to both countries. The two nations, in all their tastes, habits, and senti- ments, were as unlike as they well could be. THE SCENE OF THE STORY. 19 Naturally enough, the Dutch did not fancy the Spaniards at all ; neither did the Spaniards like the Dutch any better. It was decidedly disa- greeable for the latter people, rich and flourish- ing as they were, to find themselves regarded as a humble dependency of Spain. Yet it probably would not have occurred to them that they could do otherwise than endure their lot with patience, but for the religious and politi- cal oppression which was now becoming so grievous. The Reformation had already dawned. Its light was rousing the world from a sleep of ages. Men were learning that they could think and act for themselves. Neither priests nor kings could longer fetter the soul. The world's history records no protest against tyranny more emphatic than the great conflict through which the Netherlands broke their chains. CHAPTER II. THE YOUTH OF THE PRINCE. ppHE Netherlands had their Washington. SSg The hero of their great struggle was fe> William of Nassau, Prince of Orange, who was also called " William the Silent." The history of this great and good man is in- deed the history of the contest. He was not only its leader, but almost its very soul. Every- thing fte possessed was sacrificed for its sake ; and upon the sacred altar of freedom he finally yielded up his life. Such a story is worthy to be remembered for ever. Nassau is the name of a small German duchy lying between the states of Rhenish Prussia and those of Hesse. It contains not far from two thousand square miles of territory ; or, in other words, it is about half as large again as our own Rhode Island. On the west- 20 THE YOUTH OF THE PRINCE. 21 ern side flows the Rhine, while the Main bounds it on the south, and the Lahn passes through the central portion of the province. The coun- try is somewhat mountainous, and the scenery is very picturesque. The climate is healthful, and in general the soil is good for farming. Grapes are much cultivated along the Rhine, and the wines of Nassau are famous every- where. The ancestors of William had been sovereigns of Nassau for six hundred years. Adolphus of Nassau, a member of the elder branch of the family, near the close of the thirteenth century was emperor of Germany. The younger branch, from which William was descended, meanwhile acquired extensive possessions in the Low Countries, in addition to their German estates. The principality of Orange had recently been left to William by his cousin, Rene de Nassau- Chalons, who died in 1544, without children of his own. It lay within the territories of the French king, yet was altogether independent of his authority. The town of Orange may still be found, in the southern part of France, thir- 22 WILLIAM THE SILENT. teen miles north of Avignon, on the road from Paris to Marseilles. It is in the province of Vaucluse, and gives name to a surrounding district, now called an arrondissement. The ancient principality of Orange, however, was not much larger than two ordinary townships of New England. Yet, since the authority of its sovereign was absolute, there was no small responsibility in governing this little country. The well-being of its inhabitants, and even their very lives, depended almost entirely upon their prince. If he were a bad man, he might easily make his people wish they had never been born. So much for the titles William had inherited. Why he was called " the Silent," will be more fully explained hereafter. At present it is enough to say that it was by no means because he was less social than other" people. It was at Dillenburg, the ancient seat of the family, in the northern part of Nassau, that William was born. This was in the year 1533. His mother, Juliana of Stolberg, was a most excellent Christian woman. His father, also, was a Protestant, and aided the Reformation in THE YOUTH OF THE PRINCE. 23 his domains. There was a numerous family of sons and daughters, and they were trained up in the fear of the Lord. Motley tells us that " there still exist most tender and touching let- ters from the mother's own pen, written to her illustrious sons in hours of anxiety or anguish, in which, with the same earnest simplicity as when they were little children at her knee, she bids them rely always upon God." When the young William of Nassau, at the age of eleven years, was unexpectedly made heir to his cousin's estates in France, it was thought necessary that he should be educated in the court at Brussels. We may imagine the tender solicitude of his pious mother, as she parted with her eldest boy. She well knew that the destiny which looked so dazzling was full of dangers. According to the customs of that day, the youthful prince became a page in the emperor's household. Pages were expected to be expert in whatever exercises would make them strong, agile, and graceful. They always learned horsemanship, and the use of various weapons ; they practiced polite accomplishments, and 24 WILLIAM THE SILENT. strove to excel in music, conversation, and whatever might assist them to entertain the noble guests of the family with ease and grace. Doubtless the young prince had also masters in the languages ; for, during his busy public life, he used to speak and write the French, Latin, and Spanish with facility, as well as Flemish and Dutch. The emperor was not long in discovering that the bright, fair boy, whom everybody loved and praised, was " grave and wise of heart be- yond his childish years." He kept the young prince almost constantly with him, and treated him with distinguished favor and confidence. Even when he was holding conferences with emi- nent personages upon weighty affairs, Charles would not suffer the boy to be sent away ; for he was sure his young favorite might be trusted with any secret whatever. Doubtless this early experience was very useful in preparing him for the difficult part he was afterward to perform. Before he became a man, he had learned not a little about the* secret machinery of courts. Masks and draperies and puppets could not de- THE YOUTH OF THE PRINCE. 25 hide one who understood how things went on behind the scenes. The young Prince of Orange was not yet twenty-one, when the emperor sent him to take charge of his army on the French frontier, in the absence of the Duke of Savoy, notwith- standing several most distinguished generals wanted the honorable appointment for them- selves. William discharged the duties of this difficult position so- faithfully that the empe- ror's confidence in him was fully justified. In 1551, the young favorite of Charles V. married Anne of Egmont, daughter of the celebrated general, Count de Buren. As she was the greatest heiress in the country, the immense possessions of the prince were thus largely increased. His residence was now the stately palace of the Nassau family at Brussels ; and his style of living was almost royal in its magnificence. Not less than twenty-four no- blemen, and eighteen pages of gentle blood, held office in his household, and the ordinary domestics were numerous enough to make something of a little army. It is related that 26 WILLIAM THE SILENT. once, when it was thought advisable to retrench a little, twenty-eight master-cooks were dis- missed in a single day. There was a continual throng of guests, who were so hospitably wel- comed, and so royally entertained, that they liked to come often and stay long. The win- ning address and gracious air of the prince fas- cinated every one, whether high-born or lowly. A Catholic historian quoted by Motley declares that never did an arrogant or indiscreet word fall from his lips. " Upon no occasion did he manifest anger to his servants, however much they might be in fault, but contented himself with admonishing them graciously, without menace or insult. He had a gentle and agree- able tongue, with which he could turn all the gentlemen at court any way he liked. He was beloved and honored by the whole community." In this splendid way of living, with banquets and tournaments to fill up the intervals of his public duties, William of Orange passed his early manhood. He conformed to the religion of the court, notwithstanding the Protestant training of his infancy. It seems doubtful THE YOUTH OF THE PRINCE. 27 whether, at this period, lie cared much for re- ligion of any sort. He had not yet learned to look above and beyond this world. In 1555, the imposing spectacle of the emperor's abdication took place at Brussels. Worn out by the cares of government, as well as by protracted ill-health, Charles V. had de- termined to resign his vast dominions to his son Philip, and to retire for ever from public life. On the twenty-fifth of October, an im- mense assembly had gathered in the great hall of the ducal palace to witness the solemn cere- mony. To see a monarch voluntarily taking off his crown and giving it away has always been rather a rare sight, and, in the present case, the people crowded to witness it with min- gled curiosity and awe. It seemed almost as if they were going to their sovereign's funeral. They knew that they were to see him no more among them ; and already they began to look with softened feelings upon his past career, as we remember the acts of one who is dead. The emperor had a remarkable tact for ar- ranging great public spectacles so as to produce 28 WILLIAM THE SILENT. the happiest effect ; and he had taken especial pains that everything connected with this clos- ing scene of his public life should be grand and solemn. The great hall was hung with the richest tapestry, and adorned with flowers. At one end there was a spacious platform, raised six or seven steps above the floor ; and in the center of it three gilded chairs, overhung by a magnificent canopy, indicated the places to be occupied by the royal actors in the grand ceremony. There were rows of tapestried seats upon the right and left and in the rear of the stage, which were reserved for the Knights of the Golden Fleece, the members of the councils, and other distinguished persons. The deputies of the seventeen provinces, constituting the es- tates-general, were already seated upon the benches below, some wearing the robes of office, some in splendid civic uniforms. The rest of the hall was crowded to the utmost by the peo- ple, and the archers and halberdiers guarded the doors. All was now ready, and the appointed mo- ment had arrived. Just as the clock struck THE YOUTH OF THE PRINCE. 29 three, the doors of the chapel beyond were opened, and the emperor advanced, leaning, in his feebleness, upon the shoulder of William of Orange. Philip followed, with his aunt, Queen Mary of Hungary. Then came the Archduke Maximilian, the Duke of Savoy, and a brilliant train of nobles and officers of the court. The emperor seated himself beneath the canopy, with his sister and his son on either side ; and the vast assembly, who had risen at his en- trance, were bidden to resume their places. A member of the privy council now came for- ward, and delivered an oration setting forth the various reasons which led the emperor to re- sign his throne, as well as the eminent qualifi- cations of the son who was about to succeed him. The long harangue at last concluded with a solemn exhortation to Philip strenuously to maintain the Catholic faith. Then the coun- cilor read aloud the formal deed, by which " all the duchies, marquisates, earldoms, baronies, cities, towns, and castles " of the Burgundian realms, including the seventeen Netherlands, of course, were ceded to Philip. 30 WILLIAM THE SILENT. The immense audience was deeply moved, and amid low murmurs of mingled admiration and regret the emperor rose. He looked aged, as well as feeble, though he was only fif- ty-five years old. He had once possessed a fine, athletic figure ; but he was now crippled by the gout, from which he had suffered greatly for years. Supporting himself by a crutch, he beckoned the Prince of Orange again to his side, that he might lean upon his shoulder. The prince was at this time a tall, handsome young man of twenty-two, with dark brown hair and beard, a broad, high forehead, full, dark, thoughtful eyes, and the stately bearing which became a grandee of the realm. The emperor now addressed the States, assisting his memory by notes which he held in his hand. He declared that during the whole of his reign it had been his endeavor to perform his duty as a faithful and just sovex'eign, in promoting the good of his people, and the security of the Roman Catholic religion ; and he exhorted his son, who was now to assume the authority, to adhere to the same course. Finally, he begged THE YOUTH OF THE PRINCE. 31 the people to pardon any errors he might have committed toward them, and assured them of his constant remembrance in that pious retire- ment to which he should devote the rest of his days. Overcome by emotion, as he closed his speech he sank into his chair, pale and almost fainting, and wept like a child. The vast as- sembly, profoundly moved by the scene, could not restrain their own tears. Then Philip, a small, thin, sickly-looking man, with an air of constraint and embarrass- ment that was habitual, rose to perform his part in the ceremony. Though his manner was usually cold and haughty, he seemed al- most softened by the pathos of the scene, as he knelt to kiss his father's hand and receive his blessing. Being unable to express himself either in French or Flemish, he had the Bishop of Arras make an oration in his name. The bishop was a very competent person for any- thing in that line, and set forth, at great length and with much eloquence, the gratitude of Philip to his father, and his intention to take pattern from the emperor's illustrious ex- 32 WILLIAM THE SILENT. ample. A member of the council replied in behalf of the estates-general, in very elegant and complimentary terms. After Queen Mary of Hungary had resigned her office of regent, which she had held for the last twenty-five years, and had been profusely complimented in her turn, the ceremonies closed. The empe- ror retired, supported as before by the Prince of Orange, and followed by the new sovereign and the dignitaries of the court. Thus the Netherlands passed into the hands of Philip II. A month later, the kingdom of Spain, with its vast possessions in America and elsewhere, was made over to him in a private manner. The imperial crown of Germany was sent to Charles's brother, Ferdinand, by the hand of William of Orange. In the course Of a year from the abdication at Brussels, Charles V. had divested himself of all his dignities, and had gone into a Spanish monastery for the rest of his days. Meanwhile, in the Netherlands there was preparing a tragedy longer and bloodier than the world had ever seen before. Of the stately grandees who moved upon that tapes- THE YOUTH OF THE PRINCE. 33 tried stage in the ducal palace, there were few who were not destined to fall by the hand of violence. Some were to perish on battle-fields, some on public scaffolds, some by the weapons of secret assassins. And among the vast mul- titude of spectators who thronged the great hall on that memorable day, doubtless a pro- phetic eye might have marked many a humble Christian, whose name was shortly to be en- rolled in " the noble army of the martyrs." There were thousands of men in the Nether- lands, nay, there were women and even chil- dren too, who were soon to die at the stake, rather than deny their faith. CHAPTER III A SECRET DISCOVERED. ^HILE the Prince of Orange was still a young man, he made a very surprising ^§F an( ^ important discovery. It happened thus : — For several years a war had been going on between France and Spain. Its principal seat was in that part of France adjacent to the Low Countries. At various times during its contin- uance, the Prince of Orange had commanded the Spanish forces ; and when at last both mon- arclis had become tired of the war, he was one of the commissioners appointed to make peace. The treaty was signed at Cateau-Cambresis, in April, 1559. By its terms King Henry II., of France, was bound to restore all the cities and other possessions wrested from Spain during the preceding eight years, and to give his 34 A SECRET DISCOVERED. 35 daughter Isabella in marriage to Philip, whose second wife, Queen Mary of England, had re- cently died. These conditions were to be ful- filled within three months ; after which the King of Spain, on his part, was to restore what- ever he and his father had taken from the French. Meanwhile, Henry was to retain as hostages any four nobles whom he might choose from Philip's subjects. He selected, according- ly, three Netherland grandees, the Prince of Orange, the Count of Egmont, and the Duke of Aerschot, and one Spanish nobleman, the Duke of Alva. We shall become familiar with all four of these eminent personages in the course of our narrative. Thus the early summer of 1559 was spent by "William as a hostage at the court of France. One day he was hunting with King Henry and many noblemen of the royal household in the forest of Vincennes, which lies four or five miles east of Paris. In the course of their sport, the king and the prince chanced to be alone together ; and Henry took occasion to speak of a secret project which both Philip and 36 WILLIAM THE SILENT. himself had much at heart. Indeed, the great reason why they had both been so impatient to conclude peace was that they might be at leisure to undertake this more congenial, as well as more weighty, enterprise. " You know," continued the king, in sub- stance, " that heresy is increasing at a fright- ful rate in my realms, as well as in those of his Majesty of Spain, and, perhaps, in all the rest of the world also. My conscience will never be easy, nor my throne secure, until I have rid my kingdom of this accursed vermin. In truth, I am continually in fear of a revolution ; for, as you see, a great many personages of rank, and even princes of the blood-royal, are tainted with heresy. The King of Spain shares my senti- ments, and now that we are about to be united in the closest alliance, we have resolved, by the blessing of heaven, to blot out the very name of Protestant from our dominions." The prince listened with profound attention and perfect outward composure, while Henry went on to disclose the details of the royal plot, never dreaming that his discreet companion A SECRET DISCOVERED. 37 was not in the secret already. They were go- ing to make short and sure work of it. Only exterminate all the heretics, and of course the heresy would be exterminated too. Everything was to be most carefully arranged beforehand ; and then, at the appointed signal, all the heretic heads in both kingdoms would fall at one blow. As to the Netherlands, the Spanish troops sta- tioned there would of course despatch the busi- ness with great zeal. And thus, by the simple ; expedient of a wholesale massacre, the true faith would be vindicated, and heresy annihi- lated for ever. It was in that hour, in the wood of Vin- cennes, that William of Orange earned the sur- name of " the Silent." It was horrible to* find two great kings conspiring together to butcher thousands of their unoffending subjects ; but lie had the wisdom to hold his peace. Not even a change of countenance betrayed his feelings ; and Henry never suspected that he had revealed the dreadful plot to the very man who was born to oppose it. The prince returned with the gay party from the hunt ; he mingled as usual 38 WILLIAM THE SILENT. in the brilliant scenes of the court ; but his thoughts were full of the terrible secret he had found out in the wood of Yincennes. Orange was at this time a Roman Catholic, so far as he professed to be religious at all. Yet it seemed to him a stupendous crime to put people to death for holding a different faith. He could not forget the Protestant home of his childhood, away beyond the Rhine, and the pious parents from whose lips he had heard the Holy Scriptures. And his native kindness of i heart, too, was shocked at thought of the blood- shed and misery with which the two kings pro- posed to deluge their dominions. He was not long resolving that whatever he could do to prevent it should be done, no matter how great the risk to himself. After a few days, he requested leave to visit the Netherlands. There he used all his influ- ence to stir up the people to demand the with- drawal of the Spanish troops. It was not a hard matter ; for the lawless soldiery had given them reason to hate the very sight of a Spanish uniform. Such was their cruelty and rapacity A SECRET DISCOVERED. 39 that no worse infliction could befall a town than to have a regiment quartered upon its inhab- itants. Philip had hitherto resided in Brussels since becoming the sovereign of the Netherlands ; but he was now on the eve of returning to Spain, in order to espouse the Princess Isabella of France, according to the new treaty. His half-sister, Margaret of Parma, had been ap- pointed regent ; and she was to be assisted by a council of state, a privy-council, and a board of finance. There were also stadtholders, or governors, appointed to administer the affairs of the various provinces. Orange was stadt- holder of Holland, Zealand, and Utrecht, while Egmont, Berghen, Montigny, and other great lords, managed the internal affairs of the re- maining provinces. Shortly before the king's departure, he con- vened the states-general to receive his final in- structions. They assembled, with much pomp and display, at Ghent, on the 7th of August, 1559. The Bishop of Arras, afterward known as Cardinal Granvelle, addressed them on that 40 WILLIAM THE SILENT. occasion in the name of the king. Besides setting forth the manner in which public affairs were to be conducted during the king's absence, the royal message strongly insisted on two points. The first was a '* request " for three millions of gold florins, every stiver of which handsome sum was of course to be devoted to the good of the provinces themselves. The other point related to the maintenance of the Roman Catholic religion. It was his majesty's command that " the edicts and decrees made by the emperor, and renewed by himself, for the extirpation of all sects and heresies, should be accurately and exactly enforced." The speech contained not a word about removing the foreign troops, nor about reducing the taxes, under both which grievances the land had been groaning for a long while. The deputies asked time to consider the royal message ; and they assembled in presence of the king on the following day to present their respective answers. That of the province of Artois was read first. It was very loyal and dutiful, so far as promising its share of the A SECRET DISCOVERED. 41 three millions was concerned ; but it closed, much to Philip's wrath, by asking in return that the foreign troops should be sent away forthwith. The other provinces took the same course. They had all voted the appropriation desired, but only on condition that the Spanish troops should first quit the country. There was besides a formal remonstrance in the name of the states-general, which was signed by Orange, Egmont, and many other nobles. This docu- ment set forth the infamous conduct and intol- erable burden of the foreign soldiery, by which the inhabitants of towns where they were quar- tered had sometimes been constrained to for- sake their homes in order to escape Spanish insolence and tyranny. At first the king was 'very angry. After a few days, however, he sent the assembly a smooth message, stating some reasons why lie could not dismiss the troops. In the first place, they were needed to defend the country from foreign invasion ; besides, there were only three or four thousand of them in all. Still, he could not dismiss them, for want of funds to 42 WILLIAM THE SILENT. pay off old scores, until money should arrive from Spain. And finally, the king concluded his very consistent and logical argument by promising soundly and roundly that they should depart in the course of three or four months at the farthest. The king took leave of the deputies with pretended cordiality, though secretly much in- censed by their remonstrance. But he was too angry with the Prince of Orange to refrain from harsh and bitter words in public, on the day he embarked for Spain. Probably he suspected that the prince knew what scheme was on foot, and had opposed the longer stay of the Spanish troops on that account, which was the fact. And he must have instinctively perceived that here was one who would prove too much for him, both in counsel and in war. A great fleet of ninety vessels escorted the king to Spain. The latter part of the voyage proved so stormy and perilous that Philip thought himself happy in escaping alive. Nine ships were lost, and most of the rich mer- chandise, pictures, and jewelry which he was A SECRET DISCOVERED. 43 carrying home from the Netherlands. More than a thousand persons perished in the wreck of these vessels, and the king himself escaped to land only by taking to a small boat. It was on the 8th of September, 1559, that he landed at Laredo, more than ever resolved to devote the life so wonderfully preserved to the destruction of heresy. In honor of his return, a grand auto-da-fk, which had been deferred specially to grace his majesty's arrival, was celebrated at Yalladolid. Thirteen illustrious persons condemned by the Holy Inquisition were publicly burned before the king's approv- ing eyes. The horrid spectacle was introduced by tolling bells at six in the morning ; then came an imposing procession, a sermon, and finally the execution, which was not over until two in the afternoon. Shortly afterwards, a similar tragedy on a larger scale was enacted at Seville, where fifty heretics were burned. This was the work of that favorite institution which Philip proposed to transplant to the Netherlands. CHAPTER IV. INQUISITIONS AND INQUISITORS. HILIP had gone from the Low Countries ; and, as it proved, he was never to corne Gc? back. But the foreign troops were left behind ; the " edicts " were in force ; the inquisition, in the two forms in which it had long existed there, was industriously at work. It was now to be seen how much these three favorite agencies would do toward clearing the country of heresy. There had been tokens of a coming reform in the Netherlands long before this. Here and there, some burdened conscience, unable to rest on any good works of its own, had been forced to question whether masses and pen- ance, rosaries and holy water, are really what saves us ; whether there needs the priest and the saints and the Virgin Mary to intercede 44 INQUISITIONS AND INQUISITORS. 45 with Christ that the guilty maybe absolved ; or whether one may not come directly unto him. And then, with mingled hope and fear, the mo- mentous experiment had been tried ; the weary soul had ventured into the very arms of the Lord Jesus himself, and had found there au everlasting rest. How could one help telling of a discovery like this ? And so the light had been spreading, little by little at first, just as the gray dawn imperceptibly succeeds the black midnight, and then faster and faster, as the bright sunrise hastens on. It was already past being quenched by any extinguisher of Philip's, though the emperor had bequeathed to him his very best. Among them none was more valued than the " edicts." The first edict for the suppression of the re- formed faith had been issued by Charles V. in 1520. Others of similar import had been pub- lished at intervals during his reign ; but that of September, 1550, lias been most noted, be- cause it became the basis of Philip's laws on the subject. Here is an extract: — " No one shall print, write, copy, keep, hide, 46 WILLIAM THE SILENT. sell, buy, or give, in churches, streets, or other places, airy book or writing made by Martin Luther, John Ecolampadius, Ulric Zwinglius, Martin Bucer, John Calvin, or other heretics reprobated by the Holy Church, .... nor in his household conventicles or illegal gatherings, or be present at any such, in which the adher- ents of the above-mentioned heretics teach, baptize, and form conspiracies against the Holy Church and the general welfare More- over, we forbid all lay persons to converse or dis- pute concerning the Holy Scriptures, openly or secretly, especially on any doubtful or difficult matters, or to read, teach, or expound the Scriptures, unless they have deeply studied theology and been approved by some renowned university, .... or to preach secretly or open- ly, or to entertain any of the opinions of the above-mentioned heretics, .... on pain of being punished in the following manner, to wit: the men with the sword, and the women to be buried alive, if they do not persist in their er- rors ; if they do persist in them, then they are INQUISITIONS AND INQUISITORS. 47 to be executed with fire ; all their property, in both cases, being confiscated to the crown." Whoever failed to betray a suspected person was liable to the same punishment. On the other hand, he who informed against such a one, in case of conviction was to be rewarded by a share of the property of the accused. And no person, of whatever rank, might ask for a convicted heretic either pardon or reprieve. This was the law of the land. It was denom- inated a perpetual edict, and was to be pub- lished twice a year in every city and village of the Netherlands, so long as the world should stand. At the very outset of Philip's reign he had adopted this edict as his own, and had or- dered every officer, from the highest to the low- est, to enforce it with the utmost rigor, and without any respect of persons. Philip had contrived another measure for promoting the same end ; but it was kept secret until about the time of the king's departure for Spain. This was the addition of a large number of bishops and other ecclesiastics to the Nethcrland clergy ; not only in order that the 48 WILLIAM THE SILENT. religious interests of the people might be more strictly guarded, but also that these new digni- taries might be a power in the government. The clergy constituted one of the estates of the realm ; and since the new members would be nominated by the king, and of course obedient to his wishes, their influence would help to bal- ance the rising opposition of the great nobles. This measure instantly produced a very great excitement ; and there was good reason for it, as we shall see. In the first place, the ancient charters of the provinces expressly declared that the sovereign should not enlarge or elevate the ecclesiastical establishment without the consent of the other two estates, viz., the nobility and the cities. Hitherto there had been but four bishops for the whole couutry, those of Arras, Cambray, Tournay, and Utrecht. There were no arch- bishops in the Netherlands at all, the four epis- copal sees being under the neighboring arch- bishops of Cologne and Rheims. But now three archbishops had been appointed, and the number of bishops was increased to fifteen. INQUISITIONS AND INQUISITORS. 49 Moreover, each bishop was to appoint nine ad- ditional prebendaries, who should assist him in carrying on the inquisition in his own diocese ; and two of the nine were to be themselves in- quisitors. Indeed, the whole body of newly- appointed ecclesiastics, numbering more than one hundred and fifty, was regarded by the populace as such, though only thirty of them openly bore the hated title. Neither the name nor the office was liked by the Netherlanders. They knew only too well what it implied. It meant a perpetually overhanging terror, making day like night, and night like the shadow of death. It meant desolated homes, beggared children, broken hearts. It meant a tyranny knowing no limit, and from whose grasp there was no appeal. Hitherto, each bishop had been head-inquisi- tor in his own diocese. But as the number of bishops was now so much greater, the size of each diocese would be proportionally dimin- ished, and the field could of course be watched witli a far closer scrutiny, even leaving out of the account the nine new assistants. Now, 4, 50 WILLIAM THE SILENT. more than ever before, they might be expected to be extreme in marking what was done amiss. Besides, there was another inquisition, whose officers were appointed by the pope. They could hunt heretics through every diocese in the land, and could lay violent hands on even bishops and archbishops themselves. Any sub- ject of the king, whatever his rank, might be compelled to give evidence, on pain of death. The civil magistrates were ordered to render all assistance to these functionaries, " in their holy and pious inquisition," under the same ex- treme penalty. If an inquisitor simply said to a sheriff, " Arrest, torture, execute such or such a man," the officer was bound to do it, without formal warrant, and even in defiance of any privileges or charters to the contrary. The inquisition was above the law itself. The inquisition of Spain differed from the papal and episcopal chiefly in being better adapted to ferret out secret heretics. When the Netherlanders became so much excited about the matter, they were assured that there was no design to introduce the Spanish inqui- INQUISITIONS AND INQUISITORS. 51 sition. In fact, Philip himself remarked to his sister that there was no need, since the institu- tion as already existing in the Low Countries was as pitiless as could be desired. Nothing more was needful than to keep in full activity the precious apparatus which they already had. Still, the people did not like it in any shape. As Motley observes, " It was not easy to con- struct an agreeable inquisition. However clas- sified or entitled, it was a machine for inquiring into a man's thoughts, and for burning him, if the result was not satisfactory." Nevertheless, there it was, and there were the edicts too. The new bishops were appointed, and the Spanish troops were still on hand to back them. Nothing remained but for the peo- ple to be led as sheep to the slaughter, by butchers like Peter Titelmann, Barbier, and De Monte. The picture which history presents of Peter Titelmaiin's career is worth preserving, were it only to show how much like a demon a human being may become, even in this world. During the period of which we are writing, he was in- 52 WILLIAM THE SILENT. quisitor in the south-western portion of the Netherlands, including Flanders, Doreay, and Tournay. What has rendered him so famous during three centuries is not so much the cruel acts he did, as the intense pleasure he seemed to find in doing them. Apparently his bloody work was his highest delight. Day and night he used to scour the country on horse- back, pursuing his game with a hungry eager- ness that could never get enough. To him nothing was so sweet as to hunt heretics, ex- cept to torture and burn them. Even in a good cause, zeal so unquenchable would strike us as something superhuman. But Titelmann's seemed absolutely infernal, and only the more so for the grim jollity he sometimes displayed. There must be a good deal of the devil in a man who can laugh over writhing, expiring vic- tims. Titelmann found little to hinder him in his work. The laws were nothing to an inquisitor. There was no need of a warrant, or even of information. He had only to arrest a man, — professedly on suspicion, — then torture him INQUISITIONS AND INQUISITORS. 53 till he confessed something, and finally burn him. " The secular sheriff, — familiarly called Red-Rod from the color of , his wand of office," says Motley, " meeting this inquisitor Titel- mann one day upon the high road, thus won- deringly addressed him. ' How can you ven- ture to go about alone, or at most with an at- tendant or two, arresting people on every side, while I dare not attempt to execute my office, except at the head of a strong force, armed in proof; and then only at the peril of my life ? ' " ' Ah ! Red-Rod,' answered Peter jocosely, ' you deal with bad people. I have nothing to fear, for I seize only the innocent and the vir- tuous, who make no resistance, and let them- selves be taken like lambs.' " ' Mighty well ! ' said the other ; ' but if you arrest all the good people, and I all the bad, 'tis difficult to say who in the world is to escape.' " The same historian relates several anecdotes of individuals who suffered martyrdom under Titelmann and his fellow-inquisitors. Among them is the story of Bertrand Le Bias, a velvet- 54 WILLIAM THE SILENT. manufacturer of Tournay, who, while mass was being performed in the cathedral on Christmas day, of deliberate purpose snatched the holy wafer from the hands of the priest, and tram- pled it under his feet. Everybody was so hor- rified at an act of such appalling impiety, that the whole assembly remained motionless. " Misguided men," exclaimed the daring reform- er, " do you take this thing to be Jesus Christ, your Lord and Saviour ? " He had time enough to have made his escape, before anybody stirred to arrest him ; but he remained on the spot, ready to abide the result of the deed, and de- claring that he would gladly die a hundred deaths, if he might thus rescue the dear name of Christ from being so profaned. He was executed, after thrice being put to the tor- ture, in the following manner. Having been gagged, he was dragged to the market-place, where his right hand and foot were twisted off between two red-hot irons. Then his tongue was torn out ; and, having been suspended by a chain over a slow fire, he was kept swinging to INQUISITIONS AND INQUISITORS, 55 and fro until he was completely roasted, bravely enduring it all to the last. Many other narratives of individual martyrs are on record. But to some minds there is a still more affecting interest connected with a brief, casual mention of some obscure sufferer for Christ, like the following. It is taken by Motley almost at random from the municipal account-book of Tournay, during this same period. " To Mr. Jacques Barra, executioner, for having tortured, twice, Jean de Lannoy, ten sous. " To the same, for having executed, by fire, said Lannoy, sixty sous. " For having thrown his cinders into the river, eight sous" This is all we know of Jean de Lannoy, — what the city of Tournay paid for burning him alive. The terms strike us as decidedly moder- ate, considering the nature of the operation, — not far from what we pay now-a-days to get a tooth extracted. A great many little bills like the above were presented to the city of Tournay, 56 WILLIAM THE SILENT. every year. Quite a steady, respectable busi- ness had " Mr. Jacques Barra, executioner," no doubt. In the case of Bertrand Le Bias, how- ever, his charges must have been a little higher. We fancy him congratulating himself on hav- ing done an uncommonly handsome job that day, as he sits down at nightfall, pen in hand, to enumerate the separate items, and foot up the bill against the city of Tournay. So much for putting on the iron gag, — so much for twisting off hand and foot, — so much for tear- ing out the tongue, — so much for swinging him over the slow fire until he was roasted. Is this too horrible to be talked about ? There were thousands and thousands of obscure Chris- tians who thought it not too much to be en- dured. v H§5 CHAPTER V. THE PRINCE'S WEDDING. )0T very long after the king returned to Spain, there began to be much talk at Brussels — and indeed in several Euro- pean courts — of an approaching mar- riage " in high life." It strikes us rather strangely, after reading of the horrid scenes so frequently occurring at this period, to find that in the midst of them all people were " eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage," just as usual. Yet so it was. Anne of Egmont, the wife of William of Or- ange, had died in 1558, and he was now about to marry a second time. Our young readers will be interested in an event which illustrates so many customs of that day. Of course, princely marriages are seldom arranged without considerable trouble. The 57 58 WILLIAM THE SILENT. personal preferences of the parties concerned do not often have much weight. Political con- siderations are held to be far more important than private feelings. It is usually a very per- plexing business, because there are so many parties to be pleased or vexed by the choice, so many questions about rank and estates, and withal so few possible candidates. It was so in the present case. When the matter began to be considered, at the close of the customary year of mourning, Cardinal Granvelle suggested that the prince should marry the daughter of the Duchess of Lorraine. This alliance would have brought William into close connection with the royal families of both France and Spain. But by some means the negotiations were broken off, and the prince then turned his attention to Germany. At the court of Augustus of Saxony there lived a young orphan niece of the elector, the daughter of his deceased brother Maurice. The Princess Anna of Saxony was now about sixteen years of age. She was not beautiful, THE PRINCE'S WEDDING. 59 and still less was she amiable. However, her princely suitor of course did not know much about that. The alliance was thought desirable so far as her family and rank were concerned. The princess herself took a great fancy to her handsome and noble suitor, at first sight. But her uncle, the elector, did not altogether favor the match ; and Philip also objected, though he did not positively oppose it. Anna's father, the elector Maurice, had been an enemy of Charles V. in the latter part of the emper- or's reign, and had once put him to flight. Be- sides, Maurice had frustrated at least one ambi- tious project of Philip's own. The fact that the young princess had been brought up a Lutheran was also an objection, in the mind of the king. On the other hand, her grandfather, the landgrave Philip of Hesse, — who had been a faithful follower of Luther from the begin- ning, and in his later years had suffered a long and unjust imprisonment at the hands of Charles V., — steadfastly opposed her marrying a professed Catholic. So there were obstacles on both sides. 60 WILLIAM THE SILENT. However, the prince had made up his mind, and in due time wrote to request the royal ap- proval. After a long and irresolute pause, such as Philip was in the habit of making, he re- plied, in a letter to the cardinal, that he really didn't know what to say about the match. He wished it had been dropped ; yet if it could not be helped, perhaps it would be best to give per- mission. " But if there be a remedy," added the king, " it would be better to take it : be- cause 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." Meanwhile the elector Augustus was doing his best to make the prince promise that Anna should be allowed to worship in the Lutheran mode in private. Lutherans were not then considered so desperately heretical as Calvin- ists and Anabaptists, by any means ; so that it might not have been impossible to obtain this privilege, even in the Netherlands, for a prin- cess. But the prince was not disposed to get himself into trouble by giving any written THE PRINCE'S WEDDING. 61 pledge ; and indeed he treated the religious question as of very little consequence. " My wife," said he, " shall not be troubled with such melancholy things. Instead of holy writ, she shall read ' Amadis de Gaule,' and such books of pastime which discourse concerning love ; and instead of knitting and sewing, she shall learn to dance a gallia7*de, and such other cour- toisies as are the mode of our country, and suitable to her rank." After quoting this light reply of the prince, Motley says, " It is very certain that William of Orange was not yet the ' Father William ' he was destined to become, — grave, self-sacri- ficing, deeply religious, heroic." It would almost seem that all religions were alike indif- ferent to him, except when outward conformity to one or another was enforced by the law of the land. To be an avowed Protestant, in the Netherlands, would be to court an early mar- tyrdom ; and ho was not yet ready to do that. The utmost he would do to content the elector was simply to give a verbal promise, in indefi- nite terms, just before the marriage ceremony 62 WILLIAM THE SILENT. was performed. The princess was not com- pelled to become a Catholic ; but she conformed to the public observances of that church, as he himself continued to do for several years. The wedding took place at Leipsic, on the 24th of August, 1561. It was a very brilliant affair. Philip himself condescended to smile on the marriage, when he found he could not prevent it, and sent as a gift to the bride a ring worth three thousand crowns. He was represented on the occasion by the Baron Mon- tigny, with a splendid retinue of Netherland nobles. The king of Denmark also was repre- sented by a special embassador. The sover- eigns of many German states were present in person, and others by their envoys. The muni- cipal councils of several cities were also invited ; and the bridegroom himself was accompanied by his illustrious brothers, John, Adolphus, and Louis of Nassau, by the Burens, kinsmen of his former wife, and by many other persons of note. The city of Leipsic had its hands full to en- tertain such a multitude of noble strangers and THE PRINCE'S WEDDING. 63 • their vast retinues of attendants. As the elec- tor's palace was not finished, a private mansion was assigned to each of the sovereign families, where they were furnished with provisions by the electors' officers. Their cooking, however, was done by their own household servants, whom they brought for that purpose. They also brought their own plate and kitchen uten- sils. All the sovereign princes, however, used to dine with the elector every day, in the spa- cious town-house, while their suites were al- lowed to take their meals at their respective lodgings. On the day preceding the wedding, the guests had all arrived, and Leipsic was merry enough. The bridegroom and his train passed the night at Meneburg, a neighboring town. The next morning he approached the city, escorted by one thousand horsemen, and was met by the elector at the head of an immense procession of guests, which numbered four thousand. The whole cavalcade now rode to the town-house, where the wedding was to take place. The Princess Anna, surrounded by her ladies, re- 64 WILLIAM THE SILENT. ceived the bridegroom on the great staircase, and then withdrew to her apartments, while certain formalities were gone through by the elector and the prince. It was about five o'clock in the afternoon when the bridal procession, preceded by the musi- cians and followed by the court marshals, en- tered the grand hall of the town-house, where the marriage ceremony was performed. Im- mediately after it was concluded, while the bride and bridegroom were preparing for din- ner, five round tables, each seating ten guests, were laid in the same hall. The first course, alone, consisted of twenty-five dishes. There was music from all the bands during the repast ; and even the waiting at table was done by gen- tlemen of rank, and noble pages. After dinner there were several dances, followed by sweet- meats and drinks ; and so the long day at last came to an end. Not so the bridal festivities, however, for they continued all the week. It was not customary among the Lutherans at that time to perform the marriage ceremony in church, but at a private dwelling. The hall THE PRINCE'S WEDDING. 65 of the town-house had been used on this occa- sion simply because the elector's own palace was not yet finished. But early »next morn- ing a splendid procession escorted the newly- wedded pair to the church of Saint Nicholas, to receive a benediction. In the afternoon there was a tournament in the market-place, which was near the town-hall. The electress, the young Princess of Orange, and all the other ladies, looked over from the balcony and win- dows. The elector himself seems to have been the hero of these knightly games. On the first day, he unhorsed one of his antagonists so handsomely that the cavalier's shoulder was put out of joint, which could hardly have been a pleasant operation to the victim. The next day, the elector conquered another adversary, " bearing him off over his horse's tail so neatly that the knight came down, heels over head, upon the earth." The game of the third day was somewhat different. Three leaders entered the lists, — the Elector Augustus, the Prince of Orange, and the Margrave of Brandenburg, — 66 WILLIAM THE SILENT. each with a band of followers. The " gate of honor " fell to the lot of the margrave, in the outset ; and he was therefore bound to main- tain it against the two other parties. But the elector, though he had only four followers to thirty-four of the Brandenburgs, finally defeated the margrave, and held the post all the rest of the day. The festivities continued for two days more. One would suppose a week of such revelry would have exhausted the redoubtable elector himself. The expense of the various enter- tainments was reckoned at a hundred thousand thalers. In after years the prince must have looked upon the splendid extravagance in which he then indulged with very different eyes. The marriage thus gayly celebrated did not prove a happy one. The violent temper and ill- conduct of the princess finally led to the disso- lution of the sacred tie then formed ; and thir- teen years afterward, she was sent back to her German friends repudiated and disgraced. CHAPTER VI. TROUBLE. WITH THE CARDINAL. Y the new ecclesiastical arrangement, the Bishop of Arras had been created arch- bishop of Mechlin ; and while the prince's wedding was being celebrated in Saxony, the new prelate had made a public entry into the city which gave name to his archiepisco- pate. The Netherland people were extremely fond of grand processions, and pageants of all kinds ; but instead of regarding this one with the usual enthusiasm, they either staid away, or gazed in sullen silence. The whole matter of the bishoprics was exceedingly distasteful to the people, both on account of the violation of their ancient charters involved in the recent arrangement, and on account of the aggravated persecutions which it too clearly foreboded. G7 68 WILLIAM THE SILENT. And so the new Archbishop of Mechlin found no welcome there. Most persons believed that the scheme of the new bishoprics was the work of this same dig- nitary, who was now the primate of the whole ecclesiastical establishment in the Low Coun- tries. Evidently he had been active in promot- ing it, had been placed at its head, and had got the largest share of the plunder ; for the new prelates were to be supported by the revenues of the abbeys, which had been confiscated for that purpose. The inference drawn from these facts was very natural ; but it was not true. Philip's predecessor had formed the design, and the king had obtained the requisite decree from the pope, without the knowledge of the Bishop of Arras. That dignitary, about the same time, had been further honored by the gift of a cardinal's red hat, from the pope, at the request of the regent, who at this time had a great regard for her able and accomplished prime minister. , But the people did not like him any better under the new name of Cardinal Granvelle. TROUBLE WITH THE CARDINAL. 69 They were aware that his talents and learning were extraordinary. It is related that when only twenty years of age, he spoke seven lan- guages with perfect ease and correctness. Af- ter he became prime minister, he used to dic- tate despatches to half a dozen secretaries, in as many different languages, and upon as many different subjects ; and he would keep them all at work thus until they were exhausted. But the more able and powerful they saw this man to be, the more they dreaded and hated him ; for they well knew he would do his utmost, not to benefit the country, but to please the king and the pope. He was full of craft and cun- ning. If he could not readily carry his point by fair means, he would not hesitate to use foul ones. Both among the common people and the nobles, the opposition to the cardinal was grow- ing more bitter every day. Brabant, the province of which Brussels was the capital, held an ancient and highly-prized charter of privileges called the " Joyous En- try." It contained a provision, already alluded to, that the numbers and power of the clergy 70 WILLIAM THE SILENT. should not be augmented without the consent of the other two estates, — the nobility and the cities. Further, no citizen should be prose- cuted, except in the ordinary and open courts of justice. No foreigners should hold office in Brabant. And should the sovereign, by force or otherwise, violate the aforesaid privileges, the people were no longer bound by their oath of allegiance to him. It was clear as noonday that this charter was trampled upon in the present case. Granvelle himself was a foreign- er. So were many of the new bishops and their tools. The inquisition was far enough from being one of the ordinary and open courts of justice ; yet to its dark and bloody tribunal any man in the land might be dragged at any hour. The other provinces possessed similar privile- ges ; and the entire population felt that their chartered rights had been grossly violated. The Prince of Orange was foremost in oppos- ing the new measures. He saw to what they were paving the way. The edicts and the new bishoprics were designed to fortify the inquisi- tion, as if it were not already capable of doing TROUBLE WITH THE CARDINAL. 71 crimes enough. To be sure, Cardinal Granvelle had smoothly suggested that it might be well to drop the title of inquisitor from the clause which designated two of the nine canons in each bishopric to that odious office. It would be a good deal pleasanter to say simply that these officers were to assist the bishop in any way he might require. But the people consid- ered that it would be small consolation to have the name suppressed, if the thing were still to remain. So much ado had been made about the Span ish soldiery that about a year and a half after the king's departure they had been sent away. The cardinal himself had written to Philip, " It cuts me to the heart to see the Spanish infantry leave us ; but go they must. I see no way to retain them without manifest danger of a sudden revolt." In order to save the dignity of the government, however, it was pretended that the troops were needed to reinforce the army in Barbary just then. Still, inasmuch as the edicts and the bishop- rics remained, and were vigorously sustained 72 WILLIAM THE SILENT. by Granvelle's powerful authority, the popular excitemeut against him did not abate. The cardinal was responsible for the edicts, if not for the new bishoprics ; since it was by his sug- gestion that they had been proclaimed afresh, in the first month of Philip's reign. He be- came more and more odious to the people every day. Whatever they suffered, whatever they feared, was laid at his door, — where, in truth, most of it belonged. At this time, he possessed more power in the government than any one else." He was chief of the " Consulta," or se- cret council of three, by whose advice the re- gent was guided. He used to manage even the king himself, though in so smooth and artful a way that Philip always supposed he managed Granvelle. And he had contrived to gain such an ascendency over the mind of Margaret that the other members of the council — such men as Orange, Egmont, and Horn — were treated as mere ciphers. Very naturally, these high-spirited and pow- erful nobles found such a position intolerable. After things had gone on in this style for a year TROUBLE WITH THE CARDINAL. 73 or two, they resolved that they would endure it no longer. Either the cardinal or them- selves must retire. In March, 1563, Orange, Egmont, and Horn wrote a joint letter to the king. In respectful yet decided language, they stated that everything was in the hands of the cardinal, who was so excessively unpopular that his majesty's affairs could never he happily conducted so long as they were intrusted to him. It was necessary that something should be done at once, or the country would be ruined. And since they could no longer act harmoniously with the cardinal, they begged leave to withdraw from the council. The crafty Granvelle always kept himself well informed as to what was going on. On the day before this letter was written, and weeks before it was sent, — for it seems to have been detained to receive the signatures of other nobles, — Granvelle wrote to the king that the seigniors had leagued together against himself. They were about to send a letter of accusations, he said ; and lie suggested what answer it would be advisable for his majesty to make. 74 WILLIAM THE SILENT. Philip did not reply at all, for three months. At the end of that time, he wrote briefly, sug- gesting that such delicate matters could be bet- ter treated by word of mouth, and that one of the seigniors would do well to visit Spain for that purpose. This letter was designed simply to smooth over or at least to protract the matter; for Philip used to consider that it was worth a great deal if he could put off a troublesome business. Before long, the three nobles wrote again to the king, renewing their request to be excused from the council ; after which they absented themselves entirely. They also pre- sented a formal remonstrance to the regent, urging her to convene the states-general as the only way to remedy the deplorable condition of the country. They still continued, however, to administer the affairs of their several provinces. By this time, Margaret herself was growing somewhat restive under the cardinal's smooth yet absolute control, and was beginning to think that perhaps something ought to be done, though she hardly knew what. So she sent her TROUBLE WITH THE CARDINAL. 75 private secretary, Armenteros, to Spain, to see Philip. But the king was in no haste to decide or to act. The longer he could put off doing either, the better. It was not until February of the following year, 1564, that the secretary reached Brussels again. All this while, the cardinal was daily writing voluminous despatches to the king, setting forth the miseries of his own position, owing to the causeless hate and malice of the great lords. Nevertheless, he would continue to endure them with Christian meekness and patience, should such be his majesty's command. Pretending great candor and magnanimity, he affected to speak well of his opponents, while he was throwing out sly insinuations against them in the same breath. He endeavored to make it appear that it was only the evil influence of the nobles that made the masses so restless and turbulent. " That vile animal called the peo- ple," as he pleasantly expressed it, would no doubt have behaved peaceably enough, but for its haughty and reckless riders. As it was, there was great difficulty in getting heretics 76 WILLIAM THE SILENT. promptly punished, though he was doing his utmost, and so was Madame the regent. In short, things were going on very badly : not so much because the people objected to be burned, we may infer, as because the nobles neglected to burn them. " For the love of God and the service of our holy religion," he piously added, " put your own royal hand to the work. Oth- erwise, we have only to exclaim, ' Help, Lord, for we perish ! ' " A few weeks later, he wrote more cheerfully. " We have made so much outcry that at last Marquis Berghen has been forced to burn a couple of heretics at Valenciennes. Thus it is obvious that if he were really willing to apply the remedy in that place much progress might be made." In fact, in the course of a few years much progress was made, by the help of the " remedy " aforenamed ; but it was progress in the opposite direction. Marquis Berghen had a special reason for hesitating to burn heretics in Valenciennes. Only the preceding year, when two ministers in that city had been led to the stake for reading TROUBLW WITH THE CARDINAL. 77 the Bible to a few friends, such a tumult had been raised by " that vile animal called the peo- ple," that the burning had to be given up, and the prisoners made their escape. To be sure, the " animal " had paid dear for its temerity, since great numbers of those who shared in the mob shortly afterwards met the very doom from which they had rescued their beloved preachers. Yet such occurrences were not pleasant. And so, Catholic as he was, Marquis Berghen was not disposed to burn anybody if he could possi- bly avoid it. With most of the other stadt- holders it was much the same. In some of the provinces, the inquisition had never suc- ceeded in establishing itself very firmly ; and the nobles could evade its decrees, though they dared not openly resist them. The cardinal had long been exposed to ridi- cule in the lampoons and pasquinades of the street. The popular hatred would vent itself in covert mockeries, if it could do no more. One day, when the excitement about the new bishoprics was at -the highest, a petitioner placed a paper in the cardinal's hand, and van- 78 WILLIAM THE SILEVT. ished. The supposed petition, when opened, was found to contain some scurrilous verses upon himself, together with a shrewd caricature of his person, in which he was delineated as a hen sitting upon a nestfull of eggs, out of which a brood of bishops was being hatched. Some were just breaking the shell ; some had thrust forth an arm or a leg ; and others still were running about with miters on their heads. In each of these episcopal chicks, a ludicrous like- ness to some one of the new bishops might be traced. Of course everybody had a hearty laugh at the expense of the caricatured cardi- nal. But the most vexatious thing of this sort was " the fool's-cap livery." One day, in De- cember, 1563, a large party of noblemen were dining together ; and, as usual, they talked pretty freely about Granvelle. Much was said of his pompous display in all parts of his es- tablishment, and especially in the liveries of his servants. Everybody was forward in ridi- culing the man who had made Himself so odi- ous. Heated with wine, they resolved to con- TROUBLE WITH THE CARDINAL. 79 trive for their own retainers some very peculiar costume, whose excessive plainness should hit off the sumptuous habits of the cardinal. Egmont devised the pattern. The livery was of the plainest gray cloth, with long, loose sleeves, on which one single emblem was em- broidered, — a fool's cap and bells. The new costume at once became immensely fashiona- ble ; for everybody enjoyed a hit at Granvelle, who understood it only too well. He had long been aware that he was universally detested, and had told the king that it was so. Philip was duly informed of this additional insult, of course. Finally, his majesty determined to give the cardinal permission to go and visit his aged mother, whom he had not seen for nine- teen years. That would take him out of the country ; and then some excuse could be in- vented to prevent his return. Plowever, nobody must be allowed to suspect that the cardinal had been forced to leave. So a series of falsehoods was contrived for the oc- casion by Philip, who had an extraordinary gift for that sort of thing. Granvelle was in- 80 WILLIAM THE SILENT. structed to ask Margaret's leave to be absent for a few days, and the regent was to write to Philip to explain the case, and ask to be ex- cused for taking the liberty to let him go with- out first consulting his majesty. And about that time Armenteros was to arrive from Spain, bringing letters to the three seigniors, stating that the king had not yet decided in regard to the cardinal, of whom they had complained. His majesty desired to reflect further upon the case. So the whole programme of lies was duly enacted, and nearly everybody was im- posed upon, until, almost three centuries after- ward, the secret correspondence was discov- ered. Granvelle lived more than twenty years after this, but he never returned to the Netherlands. He filled some important positions in Spain and elsewhere ; and we shall occasionally hear of him in the further progress of the narrative. It is related that as the cardinal was quitting Brussels for the last time, attended by a splen- did train, two young nobles, Brederode and Hoogstraaten, stood at a window watching his TROUBLE WITH THE CARDINAL. 81 departure with a boyish exultation. No sooner had he passed the city gates than they rushed out, and both mounting upon one horse, they galloped after the receding cavalcade. In this style they escorted their old enemy for miles, sometimes within speaking distance of his car- riage. Brederode was a reckless, dashing, drunken young fellow, always ready for any kind of a scrape ; else he would hardly have run into a frolic so undignified as was this. 6 CHAPTER VII. EGMONT'S MISSION TO SPAIN. HE country was at length rid of the car- dinal ; and the great lords now returned to their seats in the council. Whatever had led Granvelle to go away, people felt comfortably sure that he would not very soon come back. Indeed, Margaret herself was heartily glad to be rid of him. She now treated Orange and Egmont with even greater respect and confidence than she had formerly shown to the cardinal. The king also wrote friendly letters to the grand seigniors ; and people began to flatter themselves that better days were coming. The prince was very anxious to bring about certain measures which lie considered of the utmost importance. The estates-general must be convoked, if the regent could by any means 82 EGMONT'S MISSION TO SPAIN. 83 be persuaded to do it. Furthermore, the edicts must be softened, if not repealed. Certain re- forms were also demanded in the administra- tion of public affairs, which had become ex- tremely corrupt. To the accomplishment of these ends the prince now devoted all his en- ergies. But it is seldom that one can try to do any good thing, without finding his motives suspected. There were those who took it upon them to say that Orange was only anxious to get more power into his own hands. It was secret ambition, in their opinion, that deprived him of sleep, wasted his flesh, and made him look so care-worn and old, at thirty. In truth, it was no slight struggle in which he had enlisted, against the frauds and foul practices of the court, the knavery of Marga- ret's favorite secretary, and the cruel craft of the inquisition. Life could no longer move on as hitherto, like a gay and splendid tourna- ment ; it was henceforth a stern and earnest strife. Step by step, a divine hand was leading him forward to his great work. Much as Granvelle had lamented the negli- 84 WILLIAM THE SILENT. gent way in which heresy was dealt with, it is difficult to believe that -persecution languished greatly at this time. It was not long after his departure that the Catholic authorities of the city of Bruges humbly represented to the re- gent that Peter Titelmann, Inquisitor of the Faith, was decidedly overdoing the matter. They said he was in the daily habit of seizing not only suspected heretics, but the most or- thodox believers too, and that without the least ceremony. In case he possessed no evi- dence against a prisoner, he was wont to have it manufactured to order. One had no choice except between standing in the witness-box or at the prisoner's bar. If one refused to become a false accuser, he was certain to be accused ; and to be accused was as good as being con- demned. The four estates of Flanders also stated the same facts in regard to Titelmann's outrages, in a solemn appeal to the king. The petitions and remonstrances were read in the privy council, whose president, the learned and able yet time-serving Viglius, pro- nounced them "in extremely bad taste." The EGMONT'S MISSION TO SPAIN. 85 regent contented herself with charging Titel- mann to execute his office " with all discretion and modesty." He was, if possible, less likely to heed the injunction than a wolf or a hyena might have been. " Indeed," says Motley, " Margaret was herself in mortal fear of this horrible personage. He besieged her chamber- door almost daily, before she had risen, insist- ing upon audiences which, notwithstanding her repugnance to the man, she did not dare to refuse. ' May I perish,' said Morillon, ' if she does not stand in exceeding awe of Titel- mann ! ' " And so the inquisition held its ground. In August, 1564, the king ordered that the famous decrees of the council of Trent should be proclaimed throughout the Netherlands, and carried into effect. This was a very serious matter. Many of the nobles urged that the decrees should at least be somewhat modified; for they trampled on the rights of everybody, whether high or low, as it was. But President Viglius protested that there would be no use in making the smallest concession. Do what they 86 WILLIAM THE SILENT. might, the people would still complain ; and, for his part, he was in favor of maintaining the decrees just as they were. Margaret hesitated as to what course to take. She concluded to send Count Egmont to Spain, to lay the matter before the king. Yiglius made out a rough draught of instructions for the envoy, and submitted it to the council. The matter of complaint had been smoothed down and patted and stroked by the politic president, till one could hardly tell whether to call it a kitten or a young tiger. The "instruc- tions " were delightfully polished and slippery in their indefinite platitudes. Nobody could get hold of their real meaning, if they had any. But the members of the council sat in discreet silence around the board, until it came to the turn of the prince to signify his opinion of the document. Then William of Orange for once gave way to the long pent-up tide of thought and feeling within him. " It is time to speak out," said lie, in substance. -"Tell the king the whole truth, and tell it now. We can not tolerate EGMONT'S MISSION TO SPAIN. 87 the inquisition any longer. The decrees of Trent can not be enforced in our free provinces. It is idle to attempt it. Catholic as I am, and intend always to remain, I can not stand still and calmly see princes striving to tyrannize over men's souls." The prince spoke long and earnestly, for his great heart was full. There was scarcely one at the council-board who was not convinced. Viglius was not a little worried, and lay awake all night trying to frame an effective reply to a speech of so dangerous a tendency. But while dressing, next morning, he fell down in a fit of apoplexy. His intimate friend, Joachim Hopper, presided at the council during the ill- ness of Viglius ; and by him Egmont's instruc- tions were finally tnade out. They contained some gentle suggestions as to mitigating the edicts, and showing a little mercy to the un- happy Netherlands ; but they were far from presenting a full view of the situation of affairs. Perhaps we should here allude more particu- larly to these celebrated decrees of Trent. Motley says, " They related to three subjects : 88 WILLIAM THE SILENT. the doctrines to be inculcated by the church, the reformation of ecclesiastical morals, and the education of the people. General police regulations were issued, at the same time, by which heretics were to be excluded from all share in the usual conveniences of society, and were in fact to be strictly excommunicated. Inns were to receive no guests, schools no chil- dren, alms-houses no paupers, grave-yards no dead bodies, unless guests, children, paupers, and dead bodies were furnished with the most satisfactory proofs of orthodoxy. . . . Births, deaths, and marriages could only occur with validity under the shadow of the church. No human being could consider himself born or defunct, unless provided with a priest's certifi- cate. The heretic was ex«luded, so far as ec- clesiastical dogma could exclude him, from the pale of humanity, from consecrated earth, and from eternal salvation." In January, 1565, Egmont set out with great pomp on his mission to Spain. He was re- ceived by the king with the most flattering kindness. Philip had resolved to win him over EGMONT 'S MISSION TO SPAIN. 89 from the side of right to that of might ; and he accomplished it with great ease. Dinners at the king's private table, daily airings in the king's own carriage, visits to the Escorial and the wood of Segovia, presents in hand, and promises for the future, soon allayed Egmont's solicitude for the suffering people at home. When the king gently alluded to the " fool's- cap livery," which had made so much trouble for the cardinal, Egmont laughed the matter off, as a mere frolic which meant nothing at all. After abundant flatteries and caresses, Egmont was finally dismissed with despatches for the regent, and returned to the Netherlands highly satisfied. Yet he had obtained not a single boon for his distressed country. The king declared in the most explicit terms that he would die a thousand deaths rather than suffer any change of religion in his do- minions. It might, indeed, be expedient to devise some new way of executing heretics, if possible ; not by any means for the sake of les- sening their sufferings, but in order to prevent any fancied glory from a public martyrdom. 90 WILLIAM THE SILENT. To this end, he advised to have a special coun- cil; at which certain bishops, lawyers, and other learned persons, should assist. As to reforms in the general administration of government, he would say nothing until he should hear from the regent herself. The proposed assembly of bishops and doc- tors, seigniors and deputies, was duly sum- moned, to deliberate on the question how to put heretics to death ignominiously. Now the seigniors, lawyers, and deputies boldly declared that they did not approve of putting them to death at all. Orange, Egmont, and Horn, be- ing of the regular council of state, excused themselves on that ground from sharing in the discussions. The council deliberated for six days, and finally concluded to report that no change in the mode of executing heretics was required, as the present system had been work- ing admirably for thirty-five years. Possibly some regard might be had to age and rank in deciding the rigor of the sentence. And in case any person who was not a heretic should somehow fall into the clutches of the edicts, he EGMONT'S MISSION TO SPAIN. 91 might perhaps be whipped with rods, fined, or banished. This was the sum total of mercy recom- mended by the theologians. There was none at all for the heretical ; and even the orthodox might sometimes get a wholesome chastisement by way of preventive. In such circumstances, it must have been really discouraging to be obliged to exist at all. Thrice and four times happy was the man to whom it happened to expire peacefully in his bed ; for most people could confidently look forward to a violent death, some day or other. There was a rea- sonable prospect that any given individual might end his career at the stake ; for even were he as orthodox as His Holiness himself, some kinsman or neighbor might be suspected of heresy, and then woe to him who did not turn informer ! When Philip heard of the complaints against Peter Titelmann, he sat down and wrote witli his own royal hand a letter to that zealous in- quisitor, warmly applauding his fidelity, and exhorting him to persevere in his virtuous 92 WILLIAM THE SILENT. course, which Peter accordingly did. The king likewise admonished his sister the regent to take no heed to what was said against the holy inquisition. In all the years since it was first planted in the Netherlands, there had never been a time when it was so indispensable as now ; and she must uphold the precious in- stitution by all means in her power. So there was no other way but to proclaim the decrees of the Council of Trent, the edicts, and the inquisition, in every market-place throughout the land. Not to dp it, after the king's express and reiterated commands, would be downright rebellion; and nobody was yet pre- pared for that. Even Orange declared that there was no other alternative ; and turning to his next neighbor at the council-board, he whis- pered, " We shall now witness the commence- ment of no ordinary tragedy." Accordingly the proclamation went forth from one end of the shuddering land to the other. Lest anybody should forget it, it was to be repeated once in six months for all time to come. EGMONT'S MISSION TO SPAIN. 93 There had been much smothered indignation in men's hearts before. But it was impossible to smother it any longer. It burst forth like a Tolcano ; it flamed up to heaven. Business stood still. Every foreign merchant and arti- san was in haste to be gone from the doomed country. Great lords and statesmen declared that such tyranny could no longer be borne, and a few of them openly protested that they would never enforce the monstrous decrees. In fact, the province of Brabant did have the courage to appeal to its ancient and cherished charter of privileges, the " Joyous Entry." And when the matter came before the council, they were obliged to admit the justice of the plea. Marquis Berghen and Baron Montigny also refused to aid the inquisition by any au- thority of theirs, in their own provinces. Yet these manly protests were feeble indeed com- pared with the well-fortified tyranny against which they were raised. Meanwhile, amid all this gloom and distress, there occurred two memorable weddings, at- tended with the customary pomp and festivity. 94 WILLIAM THE SILENT. In the latter part of 1565, Baron Montigny espoused the daughter of the Prince d'Espinoy. The event was celebrated by a grand tourna- ment, in which Orange, Horn, and Hoogstraa- •ten challenged all comers, and held their posi- tion triumphantly to the close. Little dreamed the happy bridegroom of the dark and terrible fate which awaited him at no distant day, in the dungeons of Simancas. The other wedding was that of the regent's son, young Alexander of Parma, and the beau- tiful Princess of Portugal. It took place in No- vember, 1565, in the court chapel at Brussels. The lovely Donna Maria had been escorted to the Netherlands by a fleet sent to Lisbon for the purpose. The banquet was spread in the same splendid hall of the ducal palace where Charles V. had given away his crown ten years before. Not long afterwards, a tournament was held in the market-place, followed by a magni- ficent supper in the Hotel de Yille. This same young Prince of Parma was destined to have very serious dealings with the Netherlands, in EGMONT'S MISSION TO SPAIN. 95 behalf of his royal uncle, before twenty years should go by. While the nobles were gathered in gay throngs at the two weddings, deep down in the souls of not a few of them lay grave thoughts and stern resolves. Mingling thus from day to day during the prolonged* festivities, they snatched opportunities to speak of matters which it was not safe to name openly. There were some who had in them " the stuff of which martyrs are made,'* and they contrived to find each other out. Everywhere the leaven of re- ligious liberty was at work. Men who, but for the persecution, would scarcely have bestowed a thought on serious themes, were beginning to be curious about these new doctrines, for the sake of which thousands were so willing to die. They had seen men take each other by the hand and walk into the flames with unshrinking step. They had heard women sing a song of triumph while the grave-digger was shoveling the earth upon their living faces. What did such things mean ? If tbere was truth in the new religion, they had a right to believe it ; and no man on earth should hinder them. 0±j CHAPTER VIII. THE LEAGUE AND THE BEGGARS. »N the wedding day of Prince Alexander of Parma, the city of Antwerp gave a great banquet in honor of the event then taking place at Brussels. Butlers, cooks, and confectioners did their utmost ; there were splendid decorations and loyal speeches in abundance ; and altogether it was a very mag- nificent affair. There was, however, a certain citizen of Antwerp, whose youth and noble birth, as well as his eminent talents and learn- ing, would have fitted him to grace the brilliant assembly, who was not there. He had gone to Brussels, to preside in a gathering of quite an- other sort. This young man, Francis Junius by name, was the pastor of the secret congrega- tion of French Huguenots in Antwerp ; and he was on this day to meet about twenty gentle- 96 _ THE LEAGUE AND THE BEGGARS. 97 men in Brussels, at the Culemburg House, by appointment, and preach a sermon. The palace of Count Culemburg was destined to become memorable by its associations with more than one important event of those times. It stood on a square then called the Horse-mar- ket, — now known as the Little Sablon, — in the upper part of the city, near the ducal palace, and among the mansions of the chief nobles. The young Huguenot minister who preached there that day had already attracted the notice of the authorities, and they had tried in vain to lay hands on him. On one occasion, he had preached a sermon in an apartment from whose windows a scene was visible which would have made most men falter. Several of his brother heretics were at that moment being burned alive ; yet, amid the glare of the blazing fagots, the young pastor calmly stood up to proclaim afresh the doctrines for which they were about to die. After he had closed his discourse at Culem- burg House, on Parma's wedding day, the cir- cle of nobles who were there assembled sat 7 98 WILLIAM THE SILENT. talking gravely of the sad state of the country, and of what they might do to save it from ruin. It was then and there resolved to league to- gether for mutual defence against the " bar- barous and violent inquisition." Nearly at the same time, several other no- bles secretly met at the baths of Spa ; and they also determined to frame a society for the same object. The document was soon afterward formally drawn up ; probably by Philip de Mar- nix, Lord of Saint Aldegonde, a man of great learning, talent, and piety, who was afterward prominent in the war. The original paper bore the names of the bold, reckless Brederode, the hot-headed and fickle Charles Mansfeld, and the brave, gentle, pious Louis of Nassau, the young brother of Orange. Several copies were privately circulated, and about two thousand signatures were enrolled in the course of two months. This celebrated league, or " compromise," as it is oftener called, was so worded that pa- triotic Catholics could sign it as well as Pro- testants. It professed entire loyalty to the THE LEAGUE AND THE BEGGARS. 99 king, but unlimited and implacable hostility to the inquisition. The signers bound themselves to resist and oppose that hated tribunal to the uttermost, and to defend each other from its persecutions with their fortunes and their lives. The Prince of Orange did not join the league ; not for want of sympathy with its aim, but because he* doubted whether this was a good way to attempt it. Indeed, the young leaguers never expected to get the names of such men as Orange, Egmont, Berghen, and Montigny. The members were almost all inexperienced and hot-headed young nobles ; and their league proved little stronger than a rope of sand. Yet some events of importance were connected with its brief history. Early in March, 1566, the confederated no- bles resolved to present to the regent a peti- tion, or " request," in regard to the matter of the inquisition. This was to be done witli con- siderable display, by Count Brederode in per- son, at the head of three hundred gentlemen of the league. Orange feared the impetuous and hasty young nobles would give their peti- 100 WILLIAM THE SILENT. tion too much the tone of a menace. He there- fore endeavored to dissuade them from rash language ; and through his influence the " re- quest " was much more prudently worded than it might otherwise have been. A rumor of what was about to be done soon came to the ears of the Duchess Margaret. As usual, the report fitted very loosely to the facts ; and the way in which it was brought to her ren- dered it only the more alarming. For some time she had been very uneasy about public affairs. The recent proclamation of the edicts and decrees had aroused so great an excitement all over the Netherlands that she no longer dared allow the name of the inquisition to pass her lips. The grand seigniors Orange, Egmont, Horn, Berghen, and Montigny, had spoken pretty plainly on the subject. As for helping to burn fifty or sixty thousand Netherlanders, they would not ; they would sooner resign their po- sitions as stadtholders. Nearly all the govern- ors of the seventeen provinces said the same. The business was likely to prove so odious, not to say impracticable, that Margaret bitterly re- THE LEAGUE AND THE BEGGARS. 101 gretted having been obliged to undertake it at all. So when Count Meghen came hurriedly into the council one day, with news that the here- tics had somehow gathered an armed force of thirty -five thousand men, Margaret was really alarmed. The count went on to inform her that within a few days fifteen hundred men-at- arms would appear before her highness with their demands, and that unless she should con- cede all they wanted they would resort to force without delay. Egmont was present, and said he had heard the same report. However, Or- ange was able to tell what were the actual facts of the case. Still, the duchess was greatly agitated. Plainly, things were coming to such a pass that the government must either con- cede something, or sustain its decrees by force. Which course should be adopted, was now the question. Meghen, Aremberg, and Berlaymont, who were stiff on the side of the king and the edicts, advised to shut the door in the face of the ex- pected petitioners. Or, if that would not do, 102 WILLIAM THE SILENT. let troops be summoned from the frontier, and cut the leaguers to pieces in the palace itself. On the other hand, it was maintained by Or- ange that inasmuch as the humblest subject in the land had the right to offer a petition, such a body of gentlemen ought at least to be treated with respect. The views of Orange at length carried the day. On the morning of the 5th of April, 1566, the gentlemen deputed to present the " re- quest" assembled at the Culemburg House. A little before noon they came out, walking two by two, to the number of three hundred. The expectant crowd, swarming on every side, hailed them with tremendous applause, as they moved in a stately procession along the handsome street leading to the regent's palace. Most of them were sons of ancient and honored fami- lies. Every one in the long procession, accord- ing to the custom of those days, was magnifi- cently attired, in garments of velvet, satin, or damask, and decorated with lace, embroid- ery, ostrich plumes, and jewels. Count Brede- THE LEAGUE AND THE BEGGARS. 103 rode, arin-iu-arm with Count Louis of Nassau, brought up the rear. In the council chamber of the palace sat Margaret of Parma, surrounded by the great nobles, when the confederates entered. Count Brederode, a tall, handsome cavalier, — who was descended from the original Counts of Hol- land, and was like them a hard-fighting, hard- drinking, yet generous-hearted fellow, — now came forward. Bowing low to her highness the regent, he made a brief speech, and then read aloud the " request." It was loyal in its gen- eral tone, but spoke in strong terms of the wrongs and miseries inflicted by the inquisition, and implored the regent to send an envoy to the king to beg that the edicts might be re- pealed. In the mean time, they requested that the holy office might be suspended, till the king's will should be known. After a short silence Margaret replied, with some agitation of manner, that she would ad- vise with her councilors, and return answer at another time. The leaguers then witltdrew, 104 WILLIAM THE SILENT. each making a respectful obeisance to the duchess as he passed. When they had gone, there was a good deal of debate in the council-chamber. The duchess was irritated and uneasy. Orange respectfully reminded her that the petitioners were loyal and honorable gentlemen, who honestly desired the good of the country. Count Egmont, shrugging his shoulders, observed that as for himself he should be obliged to be absent from court for a while on account of his health ; as much as to say that he would have nothing to do with the matter. Berlaymont, perceiving that the duchess was still somewhat agitated by the late scene, passionately exclaimed, " What, madam ! is it possible that your high- ness can entertain fears of these beggars ? Is it not obvious what manner of men they are ? They have not had wisdom enough to manage their own estates, and are they now to teach the king and your highness how to govern the country ? If my advice were taken," he added with an oath, " their petition should have a cudgel for a commentary, and we would make THE LEAGUE AND THE BEGGARS. 105 them go clown the steps of the palace a great deal faster than they mounted them." It was not long before all Brussels knew that the gentlemen of the league had been called " beggars." The remark had been overheard, perhaps by some who still lingered in the great hall adjoining the council-chamber ; indeed, Berlaymont himself repeated the epithet else- where that same day. He never heard the last of it. At a splendid dinner given by Brede- rode in the Culemburg House to his associates, — for in his opinion no measure could well be carried without considerable feasting and ca- rousing, — the taunt was immortalized. " They called us beggars ! " said Brederode goocl-hu- morcdly, while many of his confederates were hot with indignation. " Let us accept the name. We will contend with the inquisition, but remain loyal to the king, even till compelled to wear the beggar's sack." He then ordered a page to bring him a leath- ern wallet, and a large wooden bowl, such as beggars were wont to carry in those days. Having hung the wallet around his neck, he 106 WILLIAM THE SILENT. filled the great wooden bowl to the brim, and drained it at a draught. " Long live the beg- gars ! " he exclaimed, as he wiped his beard. " Long live the beggars ! " responded the con- vivial crowd with uproarious shouts, as they hastened to adopt the watchword soon to be- come so famous both on land and sea. The wallet and bowl went round ; and each guest in his turn drank a mighty draught to the health of the " beggars." Then, having fastened these badges of their fraternity to a pillar in the banqueting hall, each of the " beggars " in turn stood under- neath, and throwing a little salt into his goblet, repeated a rhyming couplet made upon the spot, after the fashion of an oath.* By the time everybody had drank the great bowlfull of wine, in addition to the usual pota- * " Par le sel, par le pain, par la besache, Les gueulx ne changeront, quoy qu'on se fache." Motley, Vol. I. p. 522 It is translated thus : " By this salt, by this bread, by this wallet we swear, These beggars ne'er will change, though all the world should stare." THE LEAGUE AND THE BEGGARS. 107 tions, there was an immense uproar. Three hundred young fellows who were more than half drunk would naturally make no small amount of disturbance. • Some of them even turned their coats and caps inside out, and danced upon the chairs and tables, screaming and yelling like so many madmen. Just when this disgraceful uproar was* at its hight, the Prince of Orange came in, with Count Egmont and Count Horn. They were on their way to the council, and hearing the noise, had stopped in order to persuade the revelers to disperse. Immediately they were surrounded by the drunken crew, and forced to drain a cup " to the king and the beggars." Of course they did not understand the new watchword. But though they staid only an in- stant, not even sitting down, it was afterward laid to the charge of Count Horn, as a deadly crime, that he had been present at the famous banquet of Culemburg House. Not content with the beggars' name and badges, the young nobles of the league resolved to wear the beggars' garb likewise. Putting 108 WILLIAM THE SILENT. aside velvet and gold lace, they had their gar- ments made of coarse gray cloth, and wore common felt hats. They had medals struck, bearing on one side the head of Philip II. and on the other two hands clasped within a wallet, with the motto, " Faithful to the king, even to wearing the beggar's sack." These served as buttons to their hats, or were hung around their necks. Before this banquet took place, the duchess had given her reply to the request. It was certainly as favorable as might have been ex- pected ; yet it amounted to nothing, after all. Margaret promised to send an envoy to the king, as they had requested. She added that she had already commenced a plan for moderat- ing the edicts, in which she was being assisted by many eminent persons. She had not power to suspend the inquisition ; but she would com- mand all the inquisitors to conduct themselves modestly and discreetly in their office, and she hoped the petitioners on their part would do the same. All this sounded very well. Yet we doubt whether it was very clear to the THE LEAGUE AND THE BEGGARS. 109 leaguers, or to the people in general, how one might " modestly and discreetly " burn an in- nocent man. When the confederates left Brussels, Brede- rode was escorted by a band of these cavaliers as far as Antwerp. An immense crowd gath- ered around the hotel where " the great beg- gar" had taken lodgings for the night. Bre- derode showed himself at a window, with his wallet and bowl, and bade the multitude hold up their hands, while he drank to the suc- cess of their struggle against the inquisition. Amid vociferous cheers he drained the huge bowl, and the crowd went away in high good- humor. It happened to be Good Friday when Bre- derode was at Antwerp. Shortly after, a re- port went abroad that on that sacred day he had been guilty of a most heathenish deed, — nothing less than eating meat ! It is almost comical to see how atrocious such an act was deemed, not by priests and devotees merely, but by the dissipated Brederode himself. He repelled the charge witli the utmost vehemence 110 WILLIAM THE SILENT. of indignation. " They who have told madame that we ate meat in Antwerp," wrote he to Count Louis, " have lied wickedly and misera- bly, twenty-four feet down in their throats." At such " gnats " the Roman Catholics of those days used to strain ; though upon occasion they would swallow a very respectable " camel," provided it were lubricated beforehand by an indulgence, or digested by the help of a subse- quent penance. CHAPTER IX. THE FIELD-PREACHING. HILE some people were flattering them- selves that the " request" would doubt- less result in smoothing off the disagree- able corners of the edicts and bringing the career of the inquisition to a speedy end, a little circumstance occurred which must have overshadowed these bright prospects somewhat. At Oudenarde, the birthplace of the Duchess Margaret, on May 30th, 15G;3, a nameless " somebody " had snatched the holy wafer from the hands of the priest, and had thrown it upon the ground. It was the same deed which had been perpetrated at Christmas by Bertrand le Bias of Tournay. Margaret herself attended to this case, and meted out to the criminal what she considered " rigorous and exemplary justice." His right hand was first cut off, af- 111 112 WILLIAM THE SILENT. ter which, having been fastened to the stake, he was burned to death over a slow fire. " He was fortunately not more than a quarter of an hour in torment," says Motley ; " but he per- sisted in his opinions, and called on God for support, to his last breath." Of course this might be supposed a model execution, since it took place under the orders of the recent herself. This was doing the thing " modestly and discreetly." Yet people could not discover that it was so very different from Peter Titelmann's mode of procedure. Apparently the amount of modesty and discre- tion involved was quite too small to be percep- tible to the victim. However, since the privy council, assisted by thirteen Knights of the Golden Fleece, was hard at work to moderate the edicts, people still hoped something would come of it in the course of time. At last the long-desired " moderation" was presented to the anxious public, in fifty-three articles. Certainly there was room for a good deal of "moderation" in a document of such length. But upon reading it, it was foutfd THE FIELD-PREACHING. 113 that the proposed mercy had been spread out very thin. There was just the slightest possi- ble film of gold, covering a vast deal of iron. Not the smallest grain of toleration was ac- corded to heretics of any sort. They had sim- ply the privilege of being strangled, rather than burned alive, if that would be any great consideration. Should they abjure their errors, they might be further indulged with being be- headed, rather than strangled. In either case, however, their whole property was to be confis- cated. The " moderation " professed to deal very leniently with those whom it called the " mis- led." But it was hard to say whom that fa- vored category might include, so multitudinous were the " metes and bounds " by which the supposed mercy was hedged in. If there were a heretic who did not talk about religious sub- jects, nor read the Scriptures or other hereti- cal books, nor attend public or secret conven- ticles, nor have any act of the perverse reli- gion committed in his house, nor harbor any- body who did, — such a one was permitted to 114 WILLIAM THE SILENT. abjure his heresy before his bishop, and be par- doned for the first offense. If obstinate, he was to be banished. In short, a heretic not heretical, a criminal not guilty, might possibly be pardoned, — and nobody else. This was the "moderation." Yery natu- rally, the disappointed populace took to calling it the mur deration, by a petty quibble which is the same in the language of the Low Coun- tries as* in ours. The document was formally submitted to the various provinces for their acceptance. But the Netherlander considered it not worth being adopted ; while the king, on the other hand, declared that it was alto- gether too lenient. Consequently it never be- came a law. Meanwhile, Marquis Berghen and Baron Montigny had been appointed envoys to Mad- rid, as Count Egmont declined going thither a second time. Indeed, the two nobles had been somewhat reluctant to accept the mission, though they little dreamed that they were go- ing to make their graves in Spain. They were commissioned to procure the mitigation of the THE FIELD-PREACHING. 115 edicts, and the withdrawal of the inquisition. Yet Margaret very well knew that the king was immutably determined never to grant ei- ther. He had expressly told her so in his se- cret letters. However, it suited Philip to have the envoys sent ; for so long as the people could be kept in hopes of better days, there would be little danger of an open revolt. Mon- tigny set out about the last of" May, 1566 ; but a slight accident detained Berghen in Brussels some weeks longer. The marquis was gra- ciously received by the king, and assured that the matter should be considered. There it stood still ; and Montigny had nothing to do but to wait. It was just at this time that the field-preach- ing began in the Netherlands. The persecu- tion had been allowed to slacken a little ; and there had been some hope that the edicts would be made less severe: More than all, in many hearts there was an importunate thirst for hearing the word of God. So immense multitudes, embracing not only peasants, but also burghers and gentlemen, used to assemble 116 WILLIAM THE SILENT. in the open fields to hear sermons and sing hymns. No doubt it was a bold thing to do ; for the edicts still stood fast in their cruel strength, and the inquisition was busy about its bloody work every day. Yet it would not have been easy to arrest seven or eight thou- sand persons at once, especially as they used to go armed, and there were no Spanish forces in the country then. Accordingly the people went boldly to those field-meetings all summer. And right boldly, too, did their preachers stand up in the midst to proclaim the simple gospel of Christ, though a price had been publicly set upon their heads. The regent had offered seven hundred crowns for a preacher, either dead or alive. Often a converted priest was the teacher of the eager throng ; sometimes it was a poor tradesman, unlettered and un- known. But in the simple words they uttered there was a mysterious power, so strange, so sweet, so solemn, that men felt it must be divine. One midsummer night, at eleven o'clock, six thousand people gathered at the bridge of Er- THE FIELD-PREACHING. 117 nonville near Tou may, to hear Ambrose Wille. He was a man who had learned his theology at the feet of Calvin. There was a price set spe- cially on his head ; but he felt no fear. On the same spot, two days later, ten thousand people listened to the preaching of Peregrine La Grange, a brave, noble, eloquent French pastor. It is related that he used to gallop boldly to his appointed place of preaching, and to fire a pistol as a signal to his vast audience that he was ready to begin tlie service. The governor of Tournay sent out a procla- mation warning the people that it was death for man, woman, or child to attend those meet- ings ; but they only went so much the more. A week later, on Sunday, the 7th of July, twenty thousand persons stood at that same bridge of Ernonville, to hear another sermon from the Calvinist, Ambrose Wille. Every third man carried a weapon of some sort. There were gentlemen and burghers armed with pistols, poignards, and swords, and peas- ants with pitch-forks and clubs. A hundred mounted troopers escorted the preacher to his 118 WILLIAM THE SILENT. rude pulpit. It seemed as if all Tournay had joined that assembly. The duchess issued her proclamations in vain. She had no Spanish troops to back them ; and as for the train-bands of Tournay, they had all gone to the preaching themselves. So it was all over Flanders. Those were camp-meetings in the strictest sense ; for the people barricaded their ground with upturned wagons, branches of trees, and whatever came to hand. Guards of horsemen performed picket duty on the neighboring highways, and scouts traversed the surrounding country to give timely warning of danger at hand. Less than a month later, there was a great field-meeting near Harlem, in the province of Holland. It was the first which had taken place in that part of the country. On the pre- ceding day, a great multitude of people from the surrounding region came pouring into Har- lem, or encamped outside the walls, on the spot where the meeting was to be held. The magis- trates were almost frantic with anxiety and distress. It would never do to countenance THE FIELD-PREACHING. 119 the fanatical movement, but how to suppress it they did not know. Like most other cities of those days, Harlem was surrounded by walls and a moat. The authorities kept the gates locked, next morning, in order that no one might get out to hear the sermon. But the men who had come so many miles to attend the meeting were not easily to be hindered ; and they climbed over the walls and swam the moat. Finally, when the city officers found they must either have a mob within the walls or a meeting outside, they unlocked the gates, and all Harlem poured forth in one simulta- neous rush. There were tens of thousands present, but all was quiet and orderly. We quote from Mot- ley's account of this , memorable gathering. " The women, of whom there were many, were placed next the pulpit, which on this occasion was formed of a couple of spears thrust into the earth, sustaining a cross-piece, against which the preacher might lean his back. The services commenced with the singing of a psalm by the whole vast assemblage No anthem from 120 W1LLTAM THE SILENT. the world-renowned organ of that ancient city ever awakened more lofty emotions than did those ten thousand human voices ringing from the grassy meadows in that fervid midsummer noon. When all was silent again, the preacher rose ; a little, meager man, who looked as if he might rather melt away beneath the blazing sunshine of July, than hold the multitude en- chained four uninterrupted hours long, by the magic of his tongue. His text was the eighth, ninth, and tenth verses of the second chapter of Ephesians ; * and as the slender monk spoke to his simple audience of God's grace, and of faith in Jesus, who had descended from above to save the lowliest, if they would put their trust in him, his hearers were alternately exalted with fervor or melted into tears. He prayed for all conditions of men, — for themselves, their friends, their enemies, for the government which had persecuted them, for the king whose face was turned upon them in anger. At times, ac- cording to one who was present, not a dry eye was to be seen in the crowd. When the minis- * " For by grace are we saved, through faith," etc. THE FIELD-PREACHIXG. 121 ter had finished, he left his congregation ab- ruptly, for he had to travel all night to reach Alkmaar, where he was to preach upon the fol- lowing day." The duchess was painfully anxious about these field-meetings. We may suppose it was not simply because it was heresy which these immense crowds thronged to hear. Such gath- erings were sufficiently formidable merely from their vast numbers. Who could tell what a mob of fifteen or twenty thousand fanatics might take a fancy to do ? Suppose the men who had seen their own brothers or children burnt at the state for their faith should in their turn lay hands on a few priests and inquisitors, and burn them for their works. Could anybody prevent it ? She had no foreign troops. She had neither means nor authority to raise forces. Were she to attempt it, the king might be dis- pleased, and the people provoked to take up arms in good earnest. If they chose, they could raise ten companies to her one. No won- der the regent felt much as if a mine were ready to explode beneath her feet. 122 WILLIAM THE SILENT. Numerous field-meetings had been held near Antwerp, some of them numbering fifteen or twenty thousand hearers, not a few of whom were said to be of " the best and wealthiest in the town." In this condition of affairs, the sincere and intelligent friends of the Reforma- tion were embarrassed by the presence at Ant- werp of Meghen and Aremberg, — both strong partizans of the king, — and by that of Brede- rode, " the great beggar." It was suspected that the two royalists meant by some means to introduce a garrison into the city, in order to overawe the people. And, on the other hand, Brederode was sure to make them trouble by his wild carousals and reckless words, though he was of their own party. At length the magistrates themselves implored Margaret to command all the three to quit Antwerp, since there would be continual danger of some tumult so long as they remained. They pre- ferred not to have any garrison, but earnestly entreated the duchess to send the Prince of Orange, their hereditary burgrave, to quiet the THE FIELD-PREACHING. 123 agitated city. If anybody in the country could set matters right, he was the man. That was precisely the opinion of the regent herself. She joined her anxious entreaties to those of the Antwerp magistrates, and the prince consented to come. It was near the middle of July when he arrived. Half the population of the city came out to welcome him, lining the road by which he approached, for miles, with a joyful throng. The ramparts, the gates, the roofs, swarmed with eager crowds, shouting and cheering as the prince rode through the streets. The senators in a body escorted him to the hotel which had been prepared for his recep- tion. A long consultation was immediately held. The city had been for days on the brink of a riot, if not of an open revolt ; and it was no slight task to make all things tranquil and secure. Night and day the prince labored, making himself acquainted with all classes of citizens, and doing his utmost to restore public harmony and confidence. It was soon decided to keep the Protestant meetings out of the city 124 WILLIAM THE SILENT. itself, but to take no notice of the gatherings in the suburbs, so long as they were quiet and orderly. From the regent down to the humblest of the people, everybody felt that William of Orange had done what probably no other person could have accomplished. Even Philip wrote him a letter of thanks, and professed the utmost con- fidence in his loyalty and devotion. The prince well knew how little all these protestations were wortli ; but still he labored on, in spite of op- posers who tried to undo all he had been able to effect. Some person started a rumor that troops were mustering to put down the field- meetings by force, when at once their numbers began to increase again, and the hearers armed themselves more carefully than ever. One day a church dignitary began to dispute with a camp-meeting preacher, and stirred up so much excitement in the crowd that they gave the meddlesome priest a sound cudgeling for his pains. Yet there was no general outbreak so long as William of Orange remained in Ant- werp, THE FIELD-PREACHFXG. 125 The young nobles of the league were at pres- ent causing anxiety by certain rash movements ; and the regent desired Orange and Egmont to confer with them on the subject. It was in Tain that these seigniors endeavored to per- suade the confederates to wait patiently till the envoys in Spain could have time to arrange matters. The hot-headed young nobles de- clared that the government was the party in fault, not they. Soon after this conference, Louis of Nassau, with twelve associates, pre- sented to the duchess a memorial in the name of the league. Its bold and haughty tone gave great offense to her highness, who of course did not gratify them with such a reply as they desired. CHAPTER X THE IMAGE-BREAKING. 'HILE Philip was leisurely reflecting on yfzL ^ ne as P e °t of affairs in his Netherland provinces, and Margaret was anxiously looking about her for means to quell the rising commotion, suddenly there came a great wave of popular excitement that swept every- thing before it. Whence or why it arose is not very easy to explain. Doubtless the Nether- landers had suffered enough, in all these years of anguish, to make them furious at last. But the mystery is that instead of turning upon their oppressors, they wreaked their indigna- tion upon images alone. There were a great many splendid churches and monasteries all over the Netherlands. Whatever art could do, whatever wealth could procure, had been lavished upon temples of 126 THE IMAGE-BREAKING. 127 worship. To our eyes, the vast number of costly paintings and exquisite statues with which these edifices were filled would have given them the air of stately galleries of art, rather than of churches. But in the Low Countries nobody had ever seen it otherwise. It was a matter of course that the churches should be thus adorned. Indeed, otherwise they would not have seemed to them like churches at all. For many generations, mo- thers had taught their children to adore the pictured or sculptured representations of Christ and the saints. This makes it seem only the more surprising that when, after long endur- ance of inexpressible wrongs, an outbreak did at last occur, it should have fallen upon the consecrated images, rather than upon the living persecutors. Yet so it was. The case of Bertrand le Bias, and that of the obscure weaver of Oudenarde, had .already manifested the feelings of the reformers tow- ard rites which they thought idolatrous. The " image-breaking " commenced on the 14th of August, 1566, at Saint Omer in Flanders. The 128 WILLIAM THE SILENT. same mob immediately proceeded to sack the cathedral of Ypres. There were fears of a similar tumult at Antwerp ; and on that ac- count the prince was implored to delay return- ing to Brussels, whither he had just been sum- moned by the duchess, until after the festival of the " Ommegang," on the 18th of August. There were many strangers in Antwerp who had come to the city on account of the festival, and this rendered a tumult only the more pro-- bable. The ceremonies of the " Ommegang, ,, furthermore, were of the sort most likely to disgust and exasperate those who had re- nounced image-worship. Upon the appointed day, a great procession was formed at the cathedral, as was customary. It embraced all' the military companies of the city, the literary clubs, the various guilds of artisans, and the religious fraternities. Its object was to parade through the city a colossal and richly-decorated image of the Yirgin. The glittering idol was borne at the head of the great procession, upon the shoulders of her worshipers, amid the music of trumpets and THE IMAGE-BREAKING. 129 drums, as if to repeat in miniature the scene of Nebuchadnezzar's golden image. As the splendid pageant passed by, the populace looked on with a contempt which some did not try to conceal. " May ken ! Mayken ! " (little Mary) cried the scoffing rabble that hung upon the rear of the procession, " your hour is come ! This is your last promenade. The city is tired of you." Some threw stones, some hissed and groaned, but no actual violence was attempted. When the usual round had been hurriedly gone through, people felt relieved. The affair had passed off better than was expected. But the guardians of " little Mary " did not venture to leave the image standing in the cen- ter of the cathedral, as was customary during the festival week, lest it should come to harm. So they placed it behind an iron railing, within the choir. The next day there was a great crowd there. They were not long in discover- ing where " Mayken " had been put, and guess- ing the reason why. The little ragged boys swarmed around the railing with taunts and jeers. " Mayken ! Mayken ! " they mockingly 130 WILLIAM THE SILENT. cried, " art thou terrified so soon ? Hast flown to thy nest so early ? Dost think thyself be- yond the reach of mischief? Beware, Mayken ! thine hour is fast approaching ! " Thus the rabble went from one shrine to another, through the magnificent cathedral, scoffing at picture and statue, crucifix and altar. Then one of the vagabond crowd, all tattered as he was, ascended into the pulpit, and open- ing a volume lying there, began to mock the preaching of the monks. Some cheered him on, well pleased with the coarse and vulgar caricature of a sermon. Others cried u shame ! " and tried to pull him down by the legs. In the uproar that followed, daggers were drawn, and shots fired. But at last the mob was driven out, and the doors closed for the night. Of course, tidings of this disturbance were quickly carried to the senate of Antwerp, then in session at the Hotel de Yille, or city hall. What was to be done ? It was frightful to have such things going on, especially as nobody could say where they would stop. Yet the grave senators seemed to be as helpless as chil- THE IMAGE-BREAKING. 131 dren in this emergency. The Prince of Orange had gone, and they felt as if there was no wis- dom nor authority remaining among them. The mob was almost certain to rise, and how could they prevent its sweeping everything be- fore it ? As for proclamations, these were an old story already. The ward-militia might be called out to preserve order, — only that no- body could tell whether they would not join the mob instead of putting it down. Perhaps they could send for hired soldiers ; yet such a step might make the people even more angry and reckless than they were already. Finally they resolved to do nothing at all, in hopes that matters would somehow right themselves be- fore morning. We hope the worthy senators had a good night's rest, in spite of their perturbation ; for they were destined to find no repose on the night following. The cathedral was early filled with a savage, angry throng, who looked capa- ble of almost any outrage. They well knew that the authorities had done nothing, and were only the bolder on that account. 132 WILLIAM THE SILENT. This celebrated cathedral of Notre Dame was one of the most magnificent in Europe, being second only to Saint Peter's at Rome. It was commenced in the year 1124 ; but ij, was not until the fourteenth century that the greater part of it was erected. The length of the edi- fice was five hundred feet, and the hight of the spire was nearly the same. It had taken a whole century to rear that spire alone, and it was not until within the memory of persons then living that the beautiful front and its tower were completed. Within, the vast edifice was almost a mira- cle of splendor and beauty. To walk in its magnificent aisles, and gaze down the endless vistas opening between rows of stately columns, here shadowed by a " dim, religious gloom," there lighted up with the splendor of fairy-land by rays streaming through some richly-painted window, to behold the wonderful gifts of art and wealth which adorned pillar and arch and shrine, one would have pronounced it incredi- ble that men whose religious feelings had been entwined about these beautiful objects from THE IMAGE-BREAKING. 133 their infancy could destroy them with their own hands. But the magnificent worship of the Roman church had a dark and bloody side. It was difficult for one living in those days to look at altars and confessionals, crucifixes and holy relics, without being reminded of dungeons, tortures, martyrdoms. And sometimes, as now, these latter associations were uppermost. The mob seemed not to have had any defi- nite purpose in assembling at this time, how- ever ; for they did nothing worse than to jeer at the image of the Virgin, and shout, " Long live the beggars ! " for several hours. Still the crowd continued to increase, and at length a very trifling incident, like a spark in a powder magazine, brought on the fatal explosion. There was an old woman sitting on the steps of the cathedral, selling wax tapers and wafers, as she had been wont to do for years. In mere wantonness, some of the rabble began to ban- ter and tease her, mocking at her consecrated candles, and telling her that there would soon be an end of all such idolatrous traffic. The old woman was none of the meekest in temper, 134 WILLIAM THE SILENT. and when they persisted in asserting that peo- ple had learned better than to believe in snch mummeries any longer, and that " Mayken " herself would shortly be thrown to the moles and the bats, she grew very angry indeed. From hard words the parties soon came to blows, throwing stones, or whatever they could lay hands on. Some bystanders took the part of the old woman, whose wares were fast being destroyed, and before long there was a great uproar. The news quickly reached the senators, who were in session at the Hotel de Ville. The ward-masters -had just been sent for, in order to have the militia called out. But there was no time to wait for their coming, for it was necessary that something should be done instantly. Perhaps the senators bethought them of Virgil's fine saying about the manner in which a man influential by reason of his piety and merit can quiet a popular tumult. Certainly it had been perfectly illustrated be- fore their eyes by William the Silent, already ; and it was destined to be yet more signally con- THE IMAGE-BREAKING. 135 firmed a few months later. Be this as it may, the senators mustered their courage, wrapped their dignity about them in ample display, and marched solemnly down to the cathedral, pre- ceded by the margrave and the two burgomas- ters. The measure was not without a tempo- rary effect. Some of those outside were per- suaded to disperse, and the mob within was par- t tially quieted. When the rioters insisted on staying till after vespers, — for it was near eve- ning, — they were told that there would be none that night, so that they might as well go home at once. A few began to go out, and the senators thought best to aid the movement to retire by their own example. Having had all the doors closed except one, they accordingly withdrew, hoping that the multitude would peaceably fol- low. But no sooner had they left the church than the rioters outside tumultuously rushed in, drove away the margrave and his attendants, and opened wide all the doors for the whole crowd. The cathedral was now altogether in their hands. The wardens and treasurers, who 136 WILLIAM THE SILENT. foresaw what was about to take place, tried to secure a few of the most valuable possessions, but without success. They were obliged to abandon everything to the mercy of the rioters. The senators, escorted by a few halberdiers, ventured once more to approach the scene ; but the uproar had now become so furious that they were fain to make a hasty retreat to the town-house, which they feared would presently be attacked in its turn. Gathering such forces as they could muster for its defense, they anx- iously awaited the event. It was now growing dark ; and moved by some strange impulse, the excited multitude at the cathedral began to sing a psalm, in place of the omitted evening mass. Clement Marot's verses had been recently translated into Flemish, and were very popular. They used to be chanted by thousands of voices in the great field-meet- ings, and their sublime and fervent strains had often ascended from the lips of martyrs for the faith. As the sacred anthem rose amid the stately columns and lofty arches of the vast ca- thedral, a frantic enthusiasm seized the throng. THE IMAGE-BREAKING. 137 With reckless hands they dragged forth the image of the Virgin ; they stripped off its jew- eled draperies, they pierced it with daggers, they broke it into a thousand fragments, and strewed them over the floor. The multitude hailed the daring act with a wild huzza. Then the general destruction was begun. A hundred strong arms seized axes and sledge-hammers to dash down the countless idols they had worshiped so long. The stat- ues of the saints were hurled from their niches, the pictures torn from the walls, the painted windows shattered, the treasuries emptied, the altars stripped. Vagabonds stalked forth arrayed in the splendid robes of the priests ; profane hands broke the consecrated bread, and drank healths to the "beggars" in sacra- mental wine. With the holy oil which was wont to be poured upon royal heads they smeared their shoes ; they burned the ancient manuscripts and illuminated missals, even bast- ing the dry old parchments with butter in or- der to aid the flames. Ladders were brought that they might climb far up into the vaulted 138 WILLIAM THE SILENT. roof, and tear off the sculptured ornaments which profusely decorated its magnificent arches. Nothing escaped their fury. By the help of ropes, pulleys, and levers, they wrenched away whatever was too securely fastened to be moved by sinewy arms unaided thus. The beautiful " repository," — a wonderful work of architecture that adorned the choir, rising arch upon arch and pillar upon pillar till lost in the dim shadowy vault, three hundred feet above, — was broken into innumerable fragments. The great organ, the pride of the country, was likewise destroyed. The cathedral was strewn with ruins from one end to the other. Only two statues remained, those of the two thieves between whom our Lord was crucified, which, with a bitter irony, the iconoclasts had spared, as fitting divinities to preside in this Romish cathedral. Strange as it may appear, we are well assured that nothing was appropriated from the treas- ures of the cathedral. There seemed to be not the least desire for plunder. No person was insulted or harmed, not even the monks and THE IMAGE-BRBAXING. 139 priests themselves. Throughout that night, and the two following days and nights, the havoc continued in the churches and monas- teries of Antwerp. But a hitter Catholic histo- rian* of that period declares that " the Hu- guenots took good care not to injure in any way the living images." This was the more remarkable, since the iconoclasts included none of the more intelligent and respectable citi- zens. Many such were present, perhaps, as spectators, but the actual image-breakers were comparatively few, and all of the lower classes. And yet they left heaps of jewelry, and gold and silver plate, lying unheeded on the ground. In Flanders they even hanged one of their own number for a petty theft. At Tournay, the ca- thedral was strewn with plate and jewels ; but the reformed ministers and magistrates, finding these scattered treasures, took them into their joint possession without any hindrance. Every- thing valuable was then weighed, inventoried, and locked up. Yet, although these riotous proceedings had • Quoted by Motley, Dutch Kepublic, Vol. I., p. 671. 140 WILLIAM THE SILENT. harmed only stocks and stones, they brought an ill-repute on the party in whose name they had been committed. As Motley remarks, " the sublime spectacle of the multitudinous field-preaching was sullied by the excesses of the image-breaking. The religious war, before imminent, became inevitable." The regent was highly incensed, as well as alarmed, by the news of the image-breaking in Antwerp and elsewhere. Even the phlegmatic Philip, when the tidings reached him, was for once transported with rage. " By the soul of my father," he exclaimed, " it shall cost them dear ! " Yet the immediate effect of these tumults was to compel certain concessions to the re- formed party which they would not have dreamed of asking a few months before. Mar- garet, though naturally brave and high-spirited, as became a daughter of Charles V., was now really frightened. Almost immediately on hear- ing the alarming intelligence from Antwerp, she resolved to flee from her capital. At three o'clock in the morning of the 22d of August, THE IMAGE-BREAKING. 141 she summoned several of the grand seigniors to the palace. To their great surprise, they found the regent about to quit Brussels. The horses and mules stood harnessed in the court- yard, the body-guard was ready to mount, and the regent herself was surrounded by the wait- ing-women, chamberlains, and other attendants, attired for flight. She announced that she had determined to withdraw to the city of Mons, which Aerschot's care would make a suffi- ciently secure retreat for her, until the sudden storm of sedition might blow over. At pres- ent she felt that it was impending over Brus- sels, and that when it should burst upon that devoted city every Catholic would be put to the sword. Orange, Egmont, and Horn strongly repre- sented the danger and folly of attempting to flee. Such a step would surely be the signal of a general anarchy, in which everything good must perish. Count Horn pledged his life that should it hereafter become necessary he would secure her highness's escape from Brussels, provided she would consent to remain now. 142 WILLIAM THE SILENT. At last she promised to remain one day longer, at least. The seigniors took measures to pre- serve the public peace, and all remained tran- quil. But at seven o'clock that evening, the duch- ess summoned them once more. She had been ill at ease all day, and fresh rumors that the churches were sure to be sacked and she her- self made prisoner that very night had not as- suaged her panic. Most bitterly did she reproach Count Horn for having persuaded her to delay her flight. Horn replied that if her highness was absolutely determined to stay no longer, he would bring her safely out, however strong the guards at the gate, or die in the attempt. But he urged her still to remain ; and her fears were at length allayed. Otherwise, the scenes of Antwerp would no doubt have been instantly repeated at Brussels. Three days later, in view of the alarming condition of the country, the government con- ceded liberty of worship according to the re- formed faith in those places where it had al- ready been held. The duchess herself signed THE IMAGE-BREAKING. 143 the " accord ; " while Louis of Nassau and other confederates pledged themselves to con- sider their league annulled, and cordially to support the government, so long as it should be true to its promises. Furthermore, the " ac- cord" declared the inquisition abolished, and guarantied an amnesty to the nobles who had hitherto offended against the king. This seemed a great gain to the Protestants. Men hoped the days of martyrdom were ended. But it proved only a last fleeting gleam of sun- shine before the shutting in of the long and terrible storm. CHAPTER XI. PHILIP THE PRUDENT: LL this eventful summer, while the field- $8k preaching and the image-breaking were 11 foolishness the counsel of their enemies. No sooner had the Spaniards gained Zierickzee, than there sprang up a mutiny which was des- tined speedily to deprive the victors of what had been so dearly won. Some months previ- ous, and while the siege of Zierickzee was still going on, two other events had occurred which were to have a very important bearing on the future course of Netherland affairs. One was the formal renunciation of allegiance to Philip, by the two provinces of Holland and Zealand. The other was the sudden death of Requesens, March 5th, 1576, after an illness of only four days. Of course there was no successor at hand to assume the vacant place of the grand com- mander, and as the king was not prepared to appoint one upon short notice, matters were left much to themselves for a time, in the course of which many changes occurred in the nomi- nally obedient provinces. CHAPTER XXVII. THE "ANTWERP FURY." HE Spanish troops were very much in the habit of indulging in a mutiny, as soon Wy as a victory had been won. Generally their pay was in arrears, and they took that time to demand it. They used sometimes not merely to demand, but to seize it, in some form. Their mutinies were very systematically conducted. The first thing after the outbreak was to choose from their own number a gov- ernor-in-chief, called the Eletto, a sergeant-ma- jor, a board of councilors, and various other officers. Though the Eletto was nominally su- preme, he was obliged to share his power largely with his council and the other functionaries, who in their turn were closely watched by the common soldiery. The mutiny was not unlike a little republic, existing in defiance of law, to 378 THE "ANTWERP FURY." 379 be sure, yet administered in a most orderly manner. Generally the nearest city was seized, the Eletto established himself in the town- house, the soldiers occupied the private dwell- ings, and the terrified inhabitants were forced to feed and lodge the invaders like so many princes. Nothing was too extravagant to be demanded, even were it wine for washing the feet of their horses. Ordinarily the harassed citizens were glad to get rid of their uninvited guests by paying them a large sum of money. Meanwhile the proper government of the city was superseded by these self-appointed rulers. The Eletto used to read, day by day, his latest enactments, from the bal- cony of the townhouse. If the soldiers ap- proved them they applauded, otherwise they hissed. In case the Eletto did not satisfy his constituents, they summarily removed him and chose another in his stead. These risings were quite too formidable to be quelled, and they were almost never punished. After the muti- neers had satiated themselves with riot and 380 WILLIAM THE SILENT. plunder, they usually subsided into obedience, and all went on as before. In the present instance the mutiny com- menced in the usual way. After the fall of Zierickzee, which was toward the end of June, 1575, the troops became clamorous for pay. They had marched through leagues of sea to reach Schouwen at first ; they had besieged its capital for eight or nine months ; and now that the work was done, they thought the pay ought to be forthcoming. So most of the leading offi- cers went to Brussels to see what could be done for them. The still unsettled condition of governmental affairs made this particularly difficult. Though it was now three months since the death of Re- quesens, there had been no successor appointed. The king had merely sent word that the gov- ernment should be administered in the interim by the council of state, and then his majesty had apparently fallen into a brown study. Month after month went by, but brought no governor-general. If ever in Philip's reign there was a crisis demanding prompt action, it THE "ANTWERP FURY." 381 was this. Yet his deliberations were conducted in so leisurely a manner that one might have fancied he was waiting for the future governor to be born and reared to man's estate. Day after day passed, and the mutinous troops at Zierickzee grew more and more impatient. Why should they go ragged and hungry, when they might help themselves ? Accordingly, having shut up the few remaining officers, and laid hands on whatever plunder they could find in Schouwen, they went off into the province of Brabant. Either they would menace Brus- sels until the council should be frightened into paying off their long arrears, or else they would seize upon some rich city, with whose plunder they might pay themselves. For a few days they hovered about the capi- tal. They received deputations from the state council, but openly mocked at all suggestions about the impropriety of their course. They declared that they were bound to have money, either by fair means or foul. All of a sudden, while both Brussels and Mechlin lay trembling for fear of them, the mutineers pounced upon 382 WILLIAM THE SILENT. Alost, a strong and wealthy city in Flanders. Having carried it by storm, and butchered all who dared to resist, they levied contributions not only upon Alost itself, but also upon one hundred neighboring parishes. They num- bered two or three thousand, and being thus established in a fortified town, they felt them- selves masters of the situation. Brussels looked for its turn to come next. The burghers rose as one man to defend their homes. On the 26th of July, they forced the state council to declare the mutineers outlawed as traitors. " All men were enjoined to slay one or all of them, wherever found, to refuse them bread, water, and fire, and to assemble at sound of bell in every city, whenever the mag- istrates should order an assault upon them.' , The indignation against the mutineers soon rose to include all Spaniards whatever, whether soldiers or civil officers. Most men wanted the whole army to be outlawed without ceremony, as the speediest way to get rid of them. As if to make a bad matter worse, the Marquis Havre arrived from Madrid, on the last day of July, THE " ANTWERP FURY." 383 bringing word from the king that the council of state was to administer affairs for some time longer. This amounted to decreeing an anar- chy. The state council was too weak to stand alone, much less was it able to maintain public tranquillity at such a time as this. People felt that they must take care of themselves. As a common fear and a common hatred had now united all the Netherlander against their foreign oppressors, the latter had likewise be- come consolidated in their turn. All the Span- iards made common cause. Even those who had at first frowned upon the meeting now joined hands with the outlawed mutineers. By the beginning of September, the entire Spanish army, from highest to lowest, as well as most of the German troops, had gone into the con- spiracy, heart and hand. A large body of people, consisting of stu- dents, burghers, and peasants, promiscuously mingled, and led by country gentlemen, under- took to fight the Spaniards, but they were in- stantly routed, and two thousand of them put to the sword. Maestricht attempted to expel 384 WILLIAM THE SILENT. its Spanish garrison, but the affair ended in a frightful massacre, on the 20th of October. Antwerp, the great commercial metropolis, the most splendid city of Christendom, now saw that its visitation was at hand. The garrison of Antwerp was two or three thousand strong, under command of Don San- cho d' Avila. It was posted in the renowned citadel which had been erected by Alva ex- pressly to keep in subjection the turbulent city. Two of its five sides commanded the town, which was thus at the mercy of the garrison, and that garrison was in daily communication with the three thousand mutineers of Alost. Within the walls were some German troops, but they had already been tampered with. Colonel Van Ende, one of their leaders, had secretly promised to desert to the mutineers when the crisis should arrive, though the other, Count Oberstein, proved faithful to his charge. Antwerp had besought succor from Brussels. On the second of November five or six thousand troops, mostly natives, were sent. After some, hesitation on the part of Champagny, the gov- THE "ANTWERP FURY." 385 ernor of the city, who had reason to doubt their steadfastness, they were finally admitted on Sat- urday morning, the third of November. Their commander, the Marquis de Havre, brought a package of intercepted letters from Don San- cho d' Avila to the mutineers at Alost and else- where, from which it appeared that they were all coming forthwith to join the garrison at the citadel. There could not be the shadow of a doubt as to what they designed to do next. It was resolved at once to construct a bul- wark on that side of the city exposed to the castle. There were no miners or pioneers, but an engineer quickly drew the lines, and within an hour ten or twelve thousand citizens of all classes, both men and women, were hard at work to construct a ditch and breastwork from the gate of the Beguins to the street of the Ab- bey St. Michael. But before night the guns of the castle began to play upon them so fatally that at last neither citizens nor soldiers dared show their heads above the slight rampart. Hastily strengthening the weakest places with boxes and bales of merchandise, upturned carts, 25 386 WILLIAM THE SILENT. or whatever came to hand, they withdrew, hop- ing to be able to return and complete the works under cover of the darkness. All the guns they had were planted where they would best tell on the castle, by Champagny himself. But the prospect of sustaining an attack was slight indeed. At last morning dawned, — the morning of a day never to be forgotten in Antwerp. It was Sunday, the fourth of November, 1576. A dense fog hung low over city and castle, but through temporary rifts in its heavy masses the anxious citizens caught glimpses of troops mus- tering at the citadel, and the tramp of cavalry was distinctly heard. The forces within the walls were called to arms. Most of the Ger- mans were posted on the various squares, while the newly-arrived Walloons were drawn up on the side opposite the castle. The burghers too were under' arms, at the cattle-market and the exchange. About ten o'clock in the morning, they des- cried what seemed a moving forest, advancing toward the castle from the south-west. It was THE "ANTWERP FURY." 387 soon evident that the mutineers from Alost had arrived. Each man wore in his helmet a green bough. The castle gates flew open at their ap- proach, and they found a warm welcome from their fellow-conspirators of the garrison. As they had marched twenty-four miles since three o'clock that morning, and much bloody work was awaiting them in the city, Don Sancho or- dered a repast to be spread. But the mutineers were too impatient to eat, and only pausing long enough to take a draught of wine, they de- manded to be led at once to the assault. " We will sup in Antwerp," said they, " or else in Paradise." The troops under Sancho d' Avila, Romero, Vargas, and Valdez, were no less ar- dent. Within an hour the entire force sallied forth, leaving scarcely men enough to guard the castle gates. But impatient as they were to sack Antwerp and cut the throats of its helpless thousands, they did not forget to say their prayers. They went about their hellish work very piously, to appearance. The Eletto of the Alost band car- ried a banner upon one side of which was em- • 388 WILLIAM THE SILENT. blazoned the Saviour on the cross, and upon the other the gentle face of the Virgin Mary. In the counterscarp, the whole five thousand foot-soldiers, all armed to the teeth, devoutly knelt to say a Pater noster or an Ave Maria, and rose prepared to plunge into atrocities almost worse than infernal. The Eletto led three thousand of the Span- iards, with firm and rapid step, toward the street of Saint Michael, while, the rest, under Romero, charged upon that of Saint George. The frail barrier gave way in an instant before the terrible onset. The Walloons were seized with an irresistible panic, and turning their backs, they fled in wild confusion. The Eletto had fallen at the instant of mounting the bar- rier ; but his fierce followers pressed on un- daunted, and swept like a torrent into the street of Saint Michael. Champagny did everything one man could do to rally the fugi- tive defenders of the city, but all in vain. Oberstein's Germans were faithful to the last, and died with their faces to the foe. But the treacherous Van Ende and his men joined THE "ANTWERP FURY." 389 Yargas and his cavaliers the moment they ap- peared, nothing loth to share in the massacre of those they had been sent to defend. Champagny meanwhile flew hither and thith- er, making desperate efforts to rally the scat- tered troops and take a stand against the ene- my. He shouted to the burghers to rise and defend their hearthstones, and they fought bravely, as men will fight for their homes and children ; but it was only to fall at last. Every- where was confusion and dismay, panic and slaughter. Every street and alley had its pools of blood, its ghastly heaps of slain. All through the short November day the bat- tle raged, from one end of the city to the other. On the splendid Place de Meer — where a few years before William of Orange had calmed the angry rioters by his majestic presence and his words of wisdom — there was now a deadly strife, and the marble pavement of the magni- ficent exchange, where five thousand merchants used daily to assemble, streamed with blood. At last the closing scene of the battle was en- acted ill the Grande Place, the irregular square 390 WILLIAM THE SILENT. on which stood the stately Hotel de Ville, or townhouse, and the richly decorated houses of the various guilds. It was a terrible fight. Every building became a fortress ; from every window a deadly fire was poured into the square below. It was not easy to storm those massive palaces ; but combustibles were brought to set them on fire. The Hotel de Ville was soon in a blaze. Many wretched citizens perished within its burning walls. From house to house, from street to street, the fire swept on, until nearly a thousand buildings were in flames. From the rear of the townhouse down to the river side was one immense conflagration. Just behind the townhouse ran a street called the Canal au Sucre. Here, amid the lurid glare which lit up that awful night, the margrave, the burgomaster, senators, burghers, and a few surviving German soldiers, made their last stand. They fought with the des- perate courage of men who have no more to lose, save only life. One after another fell those honored heads beneath the swords of Spanish ruffians. Higher and higher were THE "ANTWERP FURY:' 391 piled the gory heaps of dead. The heroic mar- grave, Goswyn Yerreyck, was the last to perish. Not until the burgomaster lay dead at his feet, and his valiant comrades had nearly all expired before his eyes, did he yield to his fate. Then the struggle ended. The Spaniards had won their prey ; there was no more need of fighting ; they had only to butcher helpless victims wherever they liked. Champagny had rested his last hope on the cavalry of the states, and after that had been routed by the Spanish dragoons, he escaped to the fleet of Orange, lying in the Scheld. Havre, too, fled; but Oberstein, missing his foothold as he tried tq spring into a boat, was drowned. The massacre lasted three days, in the course of which eight thousand human be- ings were murdered. The Spaniards swept through the city, raging and ravening like so many fiends. Blood was sweet to them, but for the moment they craved gold even more. Everything else was postponed till the plunder was secured. It was an easy matter to pillage the warehouses and strong boxes of the mer- 392 WILLIAM THE SILENT. chants, to gather heaps of silks and laces, jew- els and gold. But in order to discover the secret hoards of private wealth, the marauders perpetually resorted to some infernal expedient of torture. The following incident is related by the his- torian Hoofd. The lady concerned was the grandmother of his own wife. We give the anecdote in the words of Motley. " A gentlewoman named Fabry, with her aged mother and other females of the* family" had taken refuge in the cellar of her mansion. As the day was drawing to a close, a band of plunderers entered, who after ransacking the house descended to the cellarage. Finding the door barred, they forced it open with gun- powder. The mother, who was nearest the en- trance, fell dead on the threshold. Stepping across her mangled body, the brigands sprang upon her daughter, loudly demanding the pro- perty which they believed to be concealed. They likewise insisted on being informed where the master of the house had taken refuge. Protestations of ignorance as to hidden treas- THE "ANTWERP FURY." 393 ure, or the whereabouts of her husband, who, for aught she knew, was lying dead in the street, were of no avail. To make her more communicative, they hanged her on a beam in the cellar, and after a few moments cut her down before life was extinct. Still receiving no satisfactory reply, where a satisfactory reply was impossible, they hanged her again. Again, after another brief interval, they gave her a second release, and a fresh interrogatory. This barbarity they repeated several times, till they were satisfied that there was nothing to be gained by it, while, on the other hand, they were losing much valuable time. Hoping to be more successful elsewhere, they left her hanging for the last time, and trooped off to fresher fields. Strange to relate, the person thus horribly tor- tured survived. A servant in her family, married to a Spanish soldier, providentially en- tered the house in time to rescue her perishing mistress. She was restored to existence, but never to reason. Her brain was hopelessly crazed, and she passed the remainder of her life wandering about her house, or feebly dig- 394 WILLIAM THE SILENT. ging in her garden for the buried treasure which she had been thus fiercely solicited to reveal." It is related that a beautiful young bride, of an opulent family, was snatched from the wedding banquet at that moment in progress, and hav- ing seen her bridegroom, her mother, her guests, and at last her venerable father, slaugh- tered before her eyes, was carried off to the fortress. Being left alone by her captor, who was plundering still, she tried to hang herself with a massive gold chain which she wore. But he returned at that moment, to secure her costly ornaments. Then causing her to be stripped, and scourged with rods till she was covered with blood, he sent her back thus to the city, where, almost frantic with her mis- ery, she strayed about in the blazing ruins among the heaps of dead, until some soldiers put an end to her life. There was no possible cruelty or outrage which the soldiers forbore to commit during those three terrible days. They seemed possessed by the very demons of hell. From that day to this, the sack of Antwerp has been significantly THE "ANTWERP FURY." 395 called " The Spanish Fury." Not less than eight thousand persons were put to death. Two thousand five hundred corpses were actu- ally counted in the streets after the massacre ceased ; as many more were estimated to have perished in the Scheld ; and undoubtedly two or three thousand others were burned or other- wise destroyed. The conflagration consumed property to the value of five or six millions, and as much more was seized by the Spaniards. They robbed foreign residents, and even eccle- siastics of the Roman church, as freely as the Antwerp burghers. They liberated from the city prison, for a sufficient ransom, even rob- bers and murderers, — sensible, perhaps, that such criminals alone were fit companions for themselves. Ten years before, the image-breaking at Ant- werp had horrified not only Philip, but all the Roman Catholic world. But now that almost as many human beings had been destroyed as there were statues broken then, it was quite another thing. " 1 wish your majesty much good of this victory," wrote Jerome de Roda to 396 WILLIAM THE SILENT. the most Catholic King of Spain ; " 'tis a very great one, and the damage to the city is enor- mous." Thus, amid mutual congratulations and compliments, the perpetrators of such infernal crimes complacently washed their bloody hands, and said, " We have done no dness." CHAPTER XXVIII. THE GHENT PACIFICATION. 'ILLIAM of Orange had been prompt to turn to good account the interim follow- %*$f iug the deatli of Requesens. While affairs were thus unsettled, he was ear- nestly laboring to unite all the provinces against the common foe. For the last few years, Hol- land and Zealand had borne the brunt of the battle. The other provinces had been some- times completely overawed by Alva ; but these two had never ceased to struggle and to fight. They alone had formally renounced their alle- giance to the Spanish crown. The prince was not disposed to urge this step upon any who were not yet prepared to take it ; yet lie thought it of the utmost importance to have all the provinces go hand in hand as far as they could. To a certain extent, indeed, there was perfect 397 398 WILLIAM THE SILENT. sympathy between these two states and the other fifteen. In all there was a deeply-rooted attachment to the ancient charters, so trampled upon of late by the government. Few men conld be found in the Netherlands who did not long to see the old privileges restored, — who would not risk and suffer much for their sake. There were fewer still who did not abhor the foreign soldiery, by whose aid despotism had been upheld so long. Yet only Holland and Zealand were wholly devoted to the reformed faith. Though there were many Protestants in the other provinces, there were more Papists, and during the last few years the Roman church had been regain- ing something of her former power. So many Protestant families had been exterminated or banished during the terrible persecutions, and so strong was the immediate authority and presence of the court and the governor-general in the southern states, that this fact is not very surprising. Nor is the influence of race to be forgotten. In the southern provinces there was a strong predominance of Celtic blood. THE GHENT PACIFICATION. 399 The people, by nature ardent and impressible, were keenly susceptible to whatever was grand and imposing in the pompous ritual of Rome. In the northern states, on the other hand, — particularly in Holland and Zealand, — there was more of the German character. The Hol- landers were less fiery than their southern kinsmen, but more steadfast, — less impulsive, but more thoughtful, — less demonstrative, but more deep. They had not lightly entered the contest, and, once engaged, they were not the men to draw back. Perhaps they discerned, as others did not, that spiritual despotism is the mortal foe of civil liberty. When the con- science tamely wears fetters, it is but natural that the hands should accept them too. The prince hoped, however, to unite all the provinces on the basis of a large religious tol- eration, with a representative government un- der a hereditary chief, as of old. At present, the strongest mutual bond was their common detestation of the foreign soldiery. " Upon this deeply-imbedded, immovable fulcrum of an ancient national hatred," says Motley, " the 400 WILLIAM THE SILENT. sudden mutiny of the whole Spanish army served as a lever of incalculable power. The prince seized it as from the hand of God. Thus armed, he proposed to himself the task of up- turning the mass of oppression under which the old liberties of the country had so long been crushed." Accordingly, during the eventful summer of 1576, while Philip was leisurely considering upon whom to bestow the vacant office of gov- ernor, the prince was eloquently and incessantly urging upon all the provinces the necessity of a close union against their common foe. " Nothing remains to us," said he, " but to dis- card all jealousy and distrust. Let us, with a firm resolution and a common accord, liberate these lands from the stranger. Hand to hand, let us accomplish a just and general peace. As for myself, I present to you, with very good affection, my person and all which I possess, assuring you that I shall regard all my labors and pains, in times which are past, well be- stowed, if God will grant me grace to see the desired end." THE GHENT PACIFICATION. 401 Early in the autumn, in consequence of his powerful appeals, most of the provinces sent deputies to confer with those of Holland and Zealand at Ghent. By the middle of October a great number of the delegates were already assembled at the place of meeting. The cita- del of Ghent was stilly occupied by Spanish troops ; but the garrison was not large, and the states laid siege to it, with the help of forces sent by Orange. Meanwhile the horrible mas- sacre occurred at Antwerp. It served to hasten the movements of both deputies and besiegers at Ghent. On the 8th of November, while the smoke of ruined Antwerp was still going up to heaven, and her streets still reeked with the blood of her slain, was signed the celebrated treaty called the Pacification of Ghent, by which all the seventeen provinces were united to expel the foreign troops. By a happy co- incidence, the castle of Ghent surrendered to the states on that very day. This treaty was much more than could have been expected, if it was not all that might have been desired. It was much that the fifteen 26 402 WILLIAM THE SILENT. provinces, of whose population a majority were Catholics, should have joined hands with the two heretic states at all. For those times, it was a great step to recognize " the new reli- gion " as the established creed of a certain por- tion of the Netherlands, and to promise that it should be silently tolerated in the other states. There was to be no more religious persecution on either side, the edicts and the inquisition were to be suppressed, and the entire nation was to do its utmost to drive the foreign invad- ers from the soil. Still another auspicious event occurred in the beginning of November, to increase the satis- faction of patriotic hearts. The island of Schou- wen and its capital, so dearly won by the Span- iards not many months before, was recovered by Count Hohenlo, lieutenant-general of the prince. The mutineers liad left Zierickzee without any garrison, and the few officers were forced to abandon it, as a matter of course. The union of the Netherland states against their common foe was not completed a day too soon. Even before the treaty was actually THE GHENT PACIFICATION. 403 signed, the new governor-general had entered the provinces. " Five days before the publica- tion -of the Ghent treaty," says Motley, " a for- eign cavalier, attended by a Moorish slave and sis. men-at-arms, rode into the streets of Lux- emburg. The cavalier was Don Ottavio Gon- zaga, brother of the Prince of Melfi. The Moorish slave was Don John of Austria, the son of the emperor, the conqueror of Granada, the hero of Lepanto. The new governor-general had traversed Spain and France in this disguise, with great celerity, and in the romantic manner which belonged to his character. He stood at last on the threshold of the Netherlands, but, with all his speed, he had arrived a few days too late." Don John of Austria was the illegitimate son of Charles V., by Barbara Blomberg of Ratis- bon, a woman of humble rank. The boy had been nurtured in retirement by an officer of the imperial household until his fourteenth year. He was then taken in charge by his half-brother, Philip of Spain, and thenceforth educated with the prince royal — Don Carlos — and the son 404 WILLIAM THE SILENT. of Margaret of Parma. The three princes were of about the same age, and Alexander of Parma, at least, was a boy of much talent. But Don John surpassed both his companions. He grew up to be a marvel of beauty and gracefulness, and his daring agility in all youthful sports and exercises was thought to betoken a brilliant career. It had been designed to make him an ecclesiastic, but the bold, romantic youth had no fancy for holy orders. At the age of eight- een he ran away to Barcelona, intending to join the expedition against Malta. The king forbade the rash adventure, but no longer op- posed his choosing the profession of arms. Be- fore he was twenty-three, he had conducted a most brilliant campaign against the insurgent Moors ot Granada. He afterwards commanded the allied armies of Venice, Spain, and Rome, in the war against the Turks. He was conspic- uous for his desperate valor in the naval battle of Lepanto, and carried away a very large share of the glory of that celebrated victory. Don John had now reached his thirty-second year. Not content with the fame of former ex- THE GHENT PACIFICATION. 405 ploits, his head was uneasy for want of a crown. To win or to found a kingdom was his consum- ing ambition. Of this he dreamed by night, for this he toiled by day. At present, his eyes were fixed on the throne of England. Perhaps it might be peaceably secured by marrying Queen Elizabeth, who was understood to be still, in a sense, " in the market." Yet since that royal lady was indisputably rather old and ugly, the handsome young cavalier thought it would be better to conquer England by arms, depose Elizabeth, marry the fair imprisoned Queen of Scots, and thus become sovereign of the whole British isle. With this romantic scheme filling his head, Don John had come to the Netherlands. He had readily accepted the office of governor-gen- eral, because he trusted thus to advance his pet enterprise. As there was still something of an army in the Netherlands, he secretly purposed to settle matters there in a trice, no matter how, and then to avail himself of the troops for the conquest of England. In sending his young brother to the Nether- 406 WILLIAM THE SILENT. lands, Philip had instructed him to bring about a reconciliation, if possible. But he was not in any event to yield an iota of the royal suprem- acy, nor of the Roman Catholic faith. The king seems to have fancied that merely Don John's wonderful graces of person would some- how charm the rebellious Netherlanders into the most delightful- submission. He was des- tined to find himself signally mistaken. Having reached Luxemburg, on the southern frontier, Don John dropped the garb of the Moorish slave, removed the swarthy stain which had disguised his fair complexion and bright curling hair, and stood forth, a splendid and fascinating cavalier. " Such were the beauty and vivacity of his eyes," says a writer of that day, " that with a single glance he made all hearts his own." His features were fine, his figure well-proportioned and graceful. His bright luxuriant hair was tossed back from his handsome forehead in a fashion of his own, which became the prevailing mode wherever he went. But gifted and accomplished as he was, THE GHENT PACIFICATION. 407 Don John had now undertaken more than he was able to do. He had come to the Netherlands simply that he might make them a stepping-stone to the throne of England. However winning in out- ward appearance, he was altogether selfish at heart. His own ambitious schemes absorbed his thoughts. He heartily disliked and despised both the people and the country. In his pri- vate letters he declared that he found himself "in a Babylon of disgusts." The people were " scoundrels, drunkards, wine-skins." He was anxious to despatch matters in the speediest manner possible, solely that he might be re- leased from his distasteful mission and left at liberty to pursue the darling scheme of his heart. Tims, having no genuine interest or definite purposes in regard to Netherland af- fairs, — except to get them off his hands as soon as possible, — his course was ever vacillat- ing and inconsistent. He might flatter to-day, and threaten to-morrow, yet finally yield. At Luxemburg Don John received the dep- uties of the states-general, who laid before him 408 WILLIAM THE SILENT. in writing certain demands and concessions. William of Orange had most earnestly warned them not to be cajoled by flatteries, but to in- sist on their constitutional rights. They ac- cordingly demanded, first of all, the immediate and unconditional departure of the foreign troops. Furthermore, all prisoners were to be released, the recent treaty of Ghent recognized, a general amnesty proclaimed, and the states- general convoked. Finally, Don John must solemnly swear to maintain all the charters and customs of the land. On these conditions, they would accept his authority, would main- tain the established church, disband their own foreign troops, and provide his excellency with a body-guard of native Netherlanders. Don John at first undertook to stand upon his dignity, and was not in haste to concede what had been asked. He was disposed to de- bate, to quibble, to object. The deputies soon discovered that for some secret reason the gov- ernor-general was particularly set upon sending away the troops by sea, if he let them depart at all. They had no idea why it was, but they THE GHENT PACIFICATION. 409 instantly resolved to thwart him on that point. It soon appeared that the troops themselves had been tampered with, for the officers were as full of objections to a land journey as was Don John. This made the estates only the more determined that they should go by land, at all hazards. As -to the Ghent Pacification, about which Don John had expressed doubts, they consulted the professors of Louvain, the eccle- siastics of the Netherlands, and the state coun- cil, all which authorities pronounced that the said treaty contained nothing against the su- premacy of the Romish religion, or that of the king. Armed with these weighty, though not to our view very candid decisions, they hoped ultimately to bring Don John to terms. By way of fortifying the Ghent treaty, an- other agreement, called the " Union of Brus- sels," was drawn up early in January, 1577. As this was signed by nearly all the leading individuals in each province, it exhibited very clearly the entire sympathy of the people with the views of their deputies in forming the treaty of Ghent, which they thus bound themselves to 410 WILLIAM THE SILENT. maintain. Its present effect was to unite more closely all true Netherlander in the work of expelling foreign invaders, and doubtlQss so im- posing a demonstration of popular sentiment had some weight in the mind of Don John himself. Meanwhile, that dignitary, though not yet re- ceived as governor-general, had advanced from Luxemburg to Huy, where he met a fresh em- bassy from the states. The envoys bluntly put the question whether he would maintain the treaty of Ghent entire, and dismiss his troops, by land, forthwith. Don John's reply was com- pendiously expressed in twenty-seven articles, which, whatever else they answered, did not answer those questions at all. Being cornered by the persistent deputies, he finally said, No. Upon this, both parties grew wrathful, and blustered loudly at each other, until from words they almost came to blows. But in the course of the night, Don John's anger had time to cool off a little. He began to recede from his defiant attitude of the previous evening. Before the deputies left for Brussels, he had THE GHENT PACIFICATION. 411 virtually admitted the Ghent treaty. Not long afterwards, he was still further persuaded — by the envoys of the emperor of Germany, Ru- dolph II. — to abandon for the time the pro- ject nearest his heart, and send away the troops by land. In February, 1577, accordingly, the memora- ble treaty called the perpetual edict was signed, by which Don John conceded everything which had been demanded by the estates. On their part, they agreed to receive him as governor- general, as soon as the Spanish, Italian, and Burgundian troops should have left the prov- inces. They were to take an oath to uphold the Catholic religion, to disband their own troops, and to restore the citadels to his ma- jesty. For a brief period, the people of most of the Netherland states fancied all their troubles ended. But the perpetual edict was far from contenting the Prince of Orange. He discerned but too clearly the tendency of that agreement. He well knew the bottomless duplicity of the Spanish government. It? had ever been more 412 WILLIAM THE SILENT. ready to make promises than scrupulous to keep tliem. Of late, many letters had been in- tercepted on their way between Philip and Don John, which furnished abundant reason for doubting the good faith of those eminent per- sonages in the late transaction. Moreover, the perpetual edict could never be accepted by Holland and Zealand, on account of the pledge it required in favor of the Roman Catholic re- ligion. These two Protestant states, therefore, would be once more cut off from the fellowship which the fifteen sister provinces had lately pledged to them at Ghent. Consequently the prince refused to have anything to do with it, in behalf of his own two provinces, unless, in- deed, the other fifteen would condition their recognition of Don John as governor-general upon the actual departure of the Spaniards within the stipulated forty days, in default of which they should expel them by arms. Don John was not a little worried by the present attitude of Orange, and spared no pains to win so influential a personage to his side. He had already learned how boundless was the THE GHENT PACIFICATION. 413 authority of "Father William" — as the peo- ple affectionately termed him — in Holland and Zealand. He, and he alone, could win back those provinces to their allegiance, if he chose. Don John sent private envoys to confer with him. He wrote himself; he promised every- thing that could be desired for himself or his house ; lie left no bribe untried. " You can not imagine," said he, " how much it will be in my power to do for you." But these were not the arguments which could move that lofty soul. No doubt it would have been pleasant to be again surrounded by pomp and splendor, to be high in favor at court. But to William the Silent it seemed a boon far more precious to have his oppressed country set free. The welfare of his people had ever been dearer to him than his own. " I have al- ways put my personal interests under my feet," he said, " and thus am I resolved still to do, so long as life remains." / CHAPTER XXIX. UNEXPE CTED MO VEMENTS. ON JOHN was now at Louvain, exerting his remarkable powers of fascination to the utmost, in order to win a people whom in his heart he hated and despised. In the latter part of April, the Spanish soldiery departed, according to agreement, and the re- joicing populace fancied themselves at last free. On the first day of May, 1577, Don John made a triumphal entrance into Brussels, amid great pomp and festivity. Three days afterwards, he took the usual oaths of office at the Hotel de Ville, and assumed the position of governor- general. But the magnificent personage now at the head of .the Netherland government was a grievously disappointed -'man, after all. With the departing banners of the Spanish army had 414 UNEXPECTED MOVEMENTS. 415 vanished the dearest dream of his ambitious heart. The very thing for the sake of which he had come to the Low Countries was now out of his reach. Without troops, how could he conquer England ? " You are aware," wrote his secretary, Escovedo, — who shared deeply in these romantic aspirations, — to An- tonio Perez, " you are aware that a throne — a chair with a canopy — is our intention and our appetite, and all the rest is good for nothing. Having failed in our scheme, we are desperate and like madmen. All is now weariness and death Ah, Sen or Antonio Perez, what terrible pertinacity have these devils shown in making us give up our plot ! " Gladly would Don John have quitted the Netherlands, even before his inauguration, if the king would have allowed him to do so. In truth, he was sorely tempted to renounce his office at all hazards. The position was not suited to his taste. He liked to make war out and out, not to fret away his life in political squabbles. He felt that some woman — for instance his sister Margaret, the former regent, 416 WILLIAM THE SILENT. or perhaps the duchess of Lorraine — would be better adapted to the place than himself. " There is but one man in the Netherlands," wrote he to the king, " and he is called the Prince of Orange. The people are fairly be- witched by him ; they love him, they fear him, they go to him with all their affairs, and noth- ing is done but the prince is at the bottom of it." As for himself, he candidly declared that the people were beginning to abhor him, and that he abhorred them already. The young governor-general soon began to suspect that a plot was on foot to imprison or assassinate him. He had no positive proofs of such a design ; but since he and Escovedo were trying to compass the destruction of the prince, it was but natural that they should be ill at ease. One night, not long after his inaugura- tion, the Viscount de Gand came to the bed- side of the governor, and, rousing him from his slumber, he solemnly warned him to leave Brussels at once, or his life was not worth a pin. Accordingly, he removed to Mechlin, only to receive similar warnings there. UNEXPECTED MOVEMENTS. 417 It was in this same city of Mechlin that Don John had lately illustrated the manner in which he should observe the Pacification of Ghent. The odious Decrees of Trent had been once more promulgated, and a poor tailor, found guilty of attending a Protestant meeting, was put to death by the orders and in the presence of his excellency himself. This renewal of persecutions did not increase his popularity. Feeling himself in danger where he was, he contrived, about midsummer, to get possession of Namur. Namur was a very picturesque and opulent city, situated at the confluence of the Sambre with the Meuse, not far from the French fron- tier. It was an important place, not only on account of its location, but also on account of its famous citadel, which still, as then, crowns an abrupt precipice five hundred feet above the river. Don John had an undoubted right to establish himself in this renowned fortress, as well as in any other within his government. But his distrust of the Netherlander led him to seize it by a stratagem, the consequence of 27 418 WILLIAM THE SILENT. which was that they immediately lost whatever confidence in him they had thus far retained. At the same time he undertook to get the Antwerp citadel also into his own hands. In this, however, he signally failed, and the at- tempt resulted in the expulsion of all the Ger- man troops remaining in Antwerp. The fort- ress was occupied by the patriots, and soon after they leveled that side commanding the city to the ground. From his fortress of Namur Don John wrote many letters to the estates, in which he made bold to justify his course. But it was now very clear to them that their valiant and accom- plished governor was not to be trusted. On the other hand, that personage pronounced the Netherlanders a most perverse and thankless people. Considering all the benefits received from Alva and his Blood Council, considering the recent " Spanish Fury," as well as all the other massacres and sieges with which the country had been favored by Philip during the last ten years, perhaps they were. " Little profit there has been, or is like to be," patheti- UNEXPECTED MOVEMENTS. 419 cally remarked Don John in writing to his sis- ter, the empress-dowager, " from all the good which we have done to this bad people." These bad people, however, had recently shown themselves not incapable of gratitude, after all. Not long before, the Prince of Or- ange had made a tour through the two pro- vinces which he governed, at the request of the people themselves. Though they could not indulge themselves in any great parade on the occasion, they gave him the more precious homage of devoted hearts. Everybody hailed him with the dear title of " Father William ; * they crowded around to catch a glimpse of his beloved face, perchance to hear him speak, or, better still, to press the faithful hand so frankly offered to them all. However it seemed to Don John, the prince did not find his people un- grateful. Now that the governor-general had shut him- self up at Namur, the prince was formally and earnestly invited to visit Brussels. He had not been in that city since his departure to Germany eleven years before, though he had been sol- 420 WILLIAM THE SILENT. emnly summoned thither by the Council of Blood, in its day, and condemned for non-ap- pearance. It was in a different manner that he was coming now. He was not to be accused as a traitor, but hailed as the protector and father of the nation. Even certain of the great nobles, who were not only hostile to the Pro- testant faith, but also jealous of him personally, had felt constrained to join in the request that the prince would come to Brussels. William would not promise to do so without first consulting his own two provinces. They were reluctant to have him go, yet did not re- fuse their consent. Throughout Holland and Zealand, however, public prayers were daily offered for his safe return. On the 17th of September, he was received at Antwerp with the greatest enthusiasm. After a few days, he proceeded thence to Brussels, a large part of whose population came out several miles to meet him. Whoever else might prove false, they knew that he was a true Triend. The estates desired his advice about the ne- gotiations then in progress with their governor- UNEXPECTED MOVEMENTS. 421 general at Namur, whose tone had become more amicable of late. But Orange was not the man to prefer an unworthy peace to a righteous war ; nor would he give his voice in favor of a treaty that sacrificed civil or reli- gious liberty. It was not long before the quar- rel between the states and Don John came to actual hostilities ; but in the mean time some other important events occurred, which must now be related. Before Orange reached Brussels, a clique of Catholic nobles who were jealous of him had secretly invited the Archduke Matthias, the young brother of the Emperor Rudolph, to come to the Netherlands. Matthias was then a mere boy of twenty, mild and good-natured, — which was certainly a consideration to people who had suffered so much from cruel rulers, — but totally destitute of experience, power, or wealth. However, as they only intended him to be a mere figure-head to the ship of state rather than a pilot, an ornamental appendage of the government he was nominally to control, this was no great objection. Orange had not 422 WILLIAM THE SILEKT. been consulted about this measure, although he had heard of it before leaving Holland. In truth, the Catholic party intended to insult him by bringing the beardless archduke upon the stage, in order that he might either retire in disgust, or, by opposing the reception of Mat- thias, provoke the anger of the emperor. But instead of taking either of the two courses into which his enemies expected to drive him, the prince quietly adopted the scheme as if it had been his own from the first, and went to meet the youthful Matthias at Ant- werp at the head of two thousand cavalry and a vast multitude of citizens. Instead of per- mitting the power of the Catholic faction to be multiplied by the annexation to it of this cipher from the imperial house, he prudently took pos- session of it himself. Matthias was easy to manage, and under his merely nominal leader- ship William could carry any given measure just as readily as without it. He had previ- ously been chosen Buward of Brabant, and re- tained that office of almost dictatorial power even after the young Matthias had been made, UNEXPECTED MOVEMENTS. 423 nominally, the governor-general. In December, 1577, the states declared that Don John was no longer their ruler under the king, inasmuch as he had violated his oaths of office. Matthias was inaugurated with great pomp, at Brussels, on the 18th of January, 1578. The articles previously agreed upon between him and the states, however, had so carefully limited the young man's powers and functions that he had almost nothing to do, except to sign the acts of the estates, which were afterwards also coun- tersigned by the prince. Indeed, people used to speak of Matthias as the prince's clerk. This unexpected issue of their plot was not very gratifying to the Catholic faction. Queen Elizabeth had lately promised some assistance to the Netherlands ; but on learning that the young archduke was to be governor-general, she declared that she would not furnish a penny for their war, unless Orange was at once ap- pointed lieutenant-general for Matthias. This of course was readily done. The romantic youth who had slipped by stealth from his warm bed in Vienna, and run away in his night-gown 424 WILLIAM THE SILENT. to be made governor of the Netherlands, filled his not very responsible position quite harm- lessly for two or three years, until he was crowded out to make room for Anjou. Don John sat looking down from his lofty citadel of Namur upon these insolent proceed- ings in Brussels, ready to burst with indigna- tion. He haughtily intimated to the emperor that if Matthias really did run away to the Netherlands without leave, as had been repre- sented, his imperial majesty might at least command the boy to come home again. This, however, the emperor did not make haste to do. Don John was not very sorry to have a good excuse for going to war with the Netherlanders, after all. Both parties collected their forces as rapidly as possible. Troops were sent from abroad, under Alexander of Parma and other experienced officers, to aid the repudiated gov- ernor-general, who was already broken in health and spirits by the vexations he had undergone. In a short time both armies were mustered, each numbering about twenty thousand foot and two thousand horse. On the last day of Janu- UNEXPECTED MOVEMENTS. 425 ary, 1578, a general engagement took place at Gemblours, not far from Namur. It resulted most disastrously to the army of the states, owing to the unfaithfulness and incompetence of the Catholic nobles in command. They lost about ten thousand men, while the loss of the Spaniards was almost nothing. Don John pro- ceeded to reduce many small cities in that region, illustrating these petty conquests by the usual barbarities as he advanced. The defeat of Gemblours caused a violent reaction against the Catholic faction. The leading nobles who opposed Orange would have been mobbed but for his generous interposition. In this moment of disaster, nobody dared un- dertake to thwart measures approved by him. The misfortune happily resulted in temporarily uniting the before discordant parties for the general defense. The important city of Amsterdam had long been the only one in Holland which did not maintain the authority of the prince, and the Protestant faith. It was not the fault of the people, however. The magistrates were stiff 426 WILLIAM THE SILENT. papists, and were resolved to keep the author- ity in their own hands. The prince would not resort to force, and so the city had hitherto been in an attitude of hostility toward his gov- ernment. But early in February, 1578, certain deputies from Utrecht succeeded in arranging terms which Amsterdam accepted. Toleration was now promised to the reformed faith in that city, whose recovery was more than enough to make up for the defeat of Gemblours. A few months after this, there was a rumor of some Catholic plot on foot in Amsterdam. It seemed likely enough, for the city swarmed with monks and friars, and the magistrates were still papists. A few bold men concerted a plan for deposing the present municipal authorities and ridding the city of the friars. With the help of a trusty band of soldiers, as well a's many inhabitants, on the 28th of May they sud- denly seized both magistrates and monks, and marched them in a solemn procession down to the water's edge. Here they were ordered on board a vessel which lay waiting for them. The exultant populace swarmed on every side, UNEXPECTED MOVEMENTS. 427 as the terrified senators and ecclesiastics were thus led forth. " To the gallows with them ! to the gallows, where they have sent many a good fellow before his time ! " ejaculated the crowd, no less fervently than old Hessels had formerly done in the Blood Council. The un- happy wretches now in hand perceived that they were likely to be drowned rather than gibbeted, but that was small consolation. The careful wife of the burgomaster, old Heinrich Dirkzoon, hearing that the magistrates were going no one knew whither, managed to send her husband a pair of clean shirts for the voyage. " Take them away ! take them home again ! " replied the de- spairing ex-burgomaster, as the anxious maid offered the snowy linen, " I shall never need any more clean shirts in this world." The ves- sel put out from the wharf. The trembling prisoners expected nothing else than to be sunk in the Zuyder Zee ; instead of which they were presently landed high and dry upon the top of a dike, and bidden to go anywhere they liked except back to Amsterdam. The municipal offices having been vacated in this jocose and 428 WILLIAM THE SILE2TT. summary fashion, a new board was elected, and Protestant worship duly recognized thence- forth. Ever since Holland and Zealand had re- nounced their allegiance to Philip II., they had purposed to place themselves under the protec- tion of some other potentate ; for they had no idea that a nation could do without an anointed sovereign. Since William of Orange persisted in refusing to assume that dignity, they natur- ally turned to the Protestant Elizabeth of Eng- land. Near the close of 1575, an embassy was sent thither to offer to her majesty the sov- ereignty of Holland and Zealand. Elizabeth was unwilling to say no, yet she dared not say yes. She reflected that in the former case the two provinces would doubtless offer themselves to her neighbor of France, of whom she was always jealous. On the other hand, to accept the honor proposed would in- volve her in a great deal of trouble and ex- pense. She would be obliged to take their part against Philip, and no one could say where the contest would end. So the great queen as- UNEXPECTED MOVEMENTS. 429 sumed much the attitude of the dog in the manger, neither accepting the sovereignty her- self, nor allowing it to be offered to anybody else. As often as the provinces sent renewed proposals to her, she would receive them with rather cool politeness, as one who inwardly wonders at the persistency of a presumptuous suitor. Whenever she suspected that they were paying court to her rival of France, she would use all her fascinations to draw them back to her feet. Thus the royal coquette had hitherto kept the matter in suspense. But now the Catholic nobles, who had missed their aim in calling in Matthias, made secret advances to the Duke of Alencon,* having the same end in view. That personage, who had vibrated repeatedly from the Romish to the Huguenot party and back again, at this moment was wearing his coat with the Protestant side out. Still, his religious as well as his political convictions always hung about him so loosely as not to hinder the greatest latitude of move- * A brother of the French king, who soon after became Duke of Anjou. 430 WILLIAM THE SILENT. merit. All Lis sentiments were of the reversi- ble sort, having one side fair and clean for re- spectable circles, and the other rough-and-ready for dirty work. Such was his skill in appear- ing to be what he was not, and concealing what he really was, that even the prince and Saint Aldegonde were in a measure deceived. He was now actually in Mons, and by accept- ing his offers of friendship and aid, Orange contrived to reap advantage rather than harm from these renewed intrigues of the aristocratic faction. Upon the 13th of August, 1578, a treaty was concluded between the duke and the states, according to which the former was to furnish a considerable body of French troops, and in return he was to be honored with the high-sounding title of " Defender of the Lib- erty of the Netherlands against the Tyranny of the Spaniards and their adherents." The states also promised to aid him in their turn, should it ever be needful, to an equal amount. He was not to interfere with the internal affairs of the country ; but should the Netherlands ulti- UNEXPECTED MOVEMENTS. 431 mately accept a foreign monarch, he was to have their first offer. During this summer, some negotiations with Don John had been attempted, but in vain. His army and that of the states sat grimly watching each other in their respective camps, but for want of funds they could do no more. The position of Don John was extremely pain- ful and trying; Philip would neither recall him, as he urgently requested, nor yet would he furnish him with means to push on the war. To appearance, his majesty expected him to subsist upon nothing, and cover himself with glory meanwhile. He had long felt that he was distrusted at court. When there came news that his favorite Escovedo had been assas- sinated in Madrid, through agents of Perez — the very man in whom they both had utterly confided — and by order of the king, Don John grew sick at heart and weary of life. He wrote mournfully of his embarrassing position, dur- ing the latter part of summer, to one of his friends at Genoa. " I have besought his ma- jesty over and over again," said he, " to send 432 WILLIAM THE SILENT. me his orders. If they come, they shall be exe- cuted, unless they arrive too late. They have cut off our hands, and we have now nothing for it but to stretch forth our heads also to the ax. I grieve to trouble you with my sorrows, but I trust to your sympathy as a man and a friend. I hope that you will remember me in your prayers, for you can put your trust where, in former days, I never could place my own." A few days later, he wrote his last letter to the king. Already he had a fever upon him, under which his constitution was rapidly giving way. He represented once more his perplexi- ties, — without orders, without means, a, French army already in the country, and the plague ravaging his own. He implored the king to send instructions, to tell him plainly whether he was to stay for reinforcements or to fight, and, if the latter, whether to attack the French army or that of the states. But there was des- tined to be no more waiting for orders from the dilatory monarch of Spain. A messenger was even then approaching from the invisible world. Within ten days, Don John was dead. UNEXPECTED MOVEMENTS. 433 It was a mournful close for so brief and bril- liant a career. The youthful conqueror of Granada, the hero of Lepanto, perished in the flower of his age, disappointed, baffled, ne- glected, and betrayed. It was in the low and narrow loft of a little hovel that Don John lay down to die. The miserable chamber had for years served as a dove-cot. It was now hastily cleansed and hung with tapestry, for a sick- room. Day after day the unfortunate com- mander tossed restlessly in a burning fever, raving ever of battle-fields and victories, while his nephew, Alexander of Parma, sat watching by his side. At last the delirium passed away, but death was at hand. Don John named Parma as his successor in command, received the last sacraments of the Romish Church, and quietly expired, on the 1st of October, 1578. 28 CHAPTER XXX. THE UNION OF UTRECHT. LEXANDER, Prince of Parma, was the only surviving son of the Duchess Mar- ^B" 6 garet and Ottavio Farnese. As has been already stated, his mother was a daughter of the Emperor Charles V. His father was a grandson of Pope Paul the Third. The boy who thus derived his birth " From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth " grew up with a passionate fondness for arms. Though apt in the lore of books, he loved war far better. At eleven years of age, he wept bitterly because his uncle, Philip II., would not permit him to fight as a volunteer in the battle of Saint Quentin. When, in the first flush of his manhood, he was at length permitted to share in the last crusade against the Turks, he flew to the war as if to a gay tournament. He 434 THE UNION OF UTRECHT. 435 fought at Lepanto with a reckless and desper- ate courage for which Don John even reproved him, after the battle was over. But he gayly replied that, since his saintly wife was praying night and day for his safety, he could dare all dangers without the least fear. He had come to the Netherlands just before the battle of Gemblours, which was won, in fact, under his leadership. In his thirty-third year, he now assumed command of the army of Spain, and proved himself more able and skill- ful than either of his predecessors. He was well-formed and graceful in person, princely in bearing, magnificent in his attire. His hair and eyes were dark, his features handsome, so far as a luxuriant beard permitted them to be seen. The expression of his countenance, how- ever, is said to have boon not altogether attrac- tive. One could not observe the subtle, pierc- ing eyes, the alert, brisk, decided air, without feeling a little afraid of him. The man looked dangerous. Evidently, it would bo no easy matter for one to strike him unawares ; it would not be safe to provoke him, even at a distance. 436 WILLIAM THE SILENT. Though quick and penetrating in his percep- tions, he was cool and sagacious in his conduct. He was ever fearless, but seldom rash. He was decorous in outward observances, but unscru- pulous in regard to the means of reaching his end. His industry was incessant, his perse- verance endless. Alexander Farnese possessed no such powers of fascination as Don John had exercised ; jet his ability to control men was much greater. If less charming than his kinsman had been, he was nevertheless far more commanding. He was not at all romantic, but matter-of-fact and practical. No visions of crowns won and cap- tive queens released danced before his eyes, but he set himself deliberately and persistently to the task of subduing the Netherlands, and made it his business, year in and year out, with seemingly never a thought for anything else. At the time when Alexander of Parma as- sumed the command, the autumn was too far advanced for extensive campaigns, even had he found ample resources at his disposal. But he prudently reflected that something might be THE UNION OF UTRECHT. 437 done by buying up traitors during the winter months, if not by fighting. He had reason to suspect that certain of the Netherland nobles would be tolerably willing to bargain with him, especially those who had been twice foiled in their attempts to circumvent Orange. Accord- ingly, his first efforts were directed to this quarter. The Seignior de la Motte, governor of Grave- lines, had been purchased and paid for, in the time of Don John. At first fifty thousand crowns were proposed for La Motte and his friend, the present Baron Montigny, with their troops, though the agent of the king insisted that they wore very dear at that price. Moan- while the affair got noised abroad prematurely. La Motte learned that the Spanish officers were making many unpleasant and sarcastic remarks at his expense, and consequently he began to draw back from the bargain in high dudgeon. However, he finally consented to be struck off to Don John at the stipulated price, and with him the Spaniards acquired Gravelincs. What was worse, many others shortly followed his 438 WILLIAM THE SILENT. infamous example. Parma smoothed the way for them as much as possible. He well under- stood how to manage affairs of so delicate a nature, and never failed to observe a decent secrecy, at least, in regard to these mercenary treasons. Before many months had elapsed, a goodly number of Netherland nobles had sold themselves, body and soul, to Philip of Spain. With regard to some of these, the states might have wished Alexander much joy of his bargain, had he acquired simply the individuals themselves, and what pertained to them. But the defection of so many nobles in the southern provinces from the patriot party had no small effect upon the mass of the people around them. It was the entering wedge which led to the ultimate division of the Netherlands. Though the cleft was slight at first, it widened day by day. The Walloon provinces leaned more and more toward popery and Spain, while the steadfast north was ever growing firmer in its adhesion to civil and religious liberty. William of Orange and the other Protestant nobles were quick to discover whither matters THE UNION OF UTRECHT. 439 were tending. The states-general repeatedly sent deputations to the Walloon provinces to warn them of their danger, and to entreat them not to separate themselves from the rest of the nation by any compromise with Spain. But it was of no avail. The Ghent treaty had united all the seventeen states against their common foe for a brief period ; but that bond was now virtually sundered. It was no longer possible to construct a league embracing all ; but the northern provinces were soon consolidated by a new compact called the " Union of Utrecht." This ultimately became the basis of the Dutch Republic, as it existed for two hundred years. Count John of Nassau, the only surviving brother of the prince, was now stadtholder of Gelderland and Zutphen, which were consid- ered as one province. He was prominent in proposing the Union of Utrecht, which the prince desired the states to consider and adopt of themselves, as it were, rather than by his direct influence. The deputies of several prov- inces met, together with Count John, early in January, 1579. On the 23rd of January, the 440 WILLIAM THE SILENT. celebrated compact was provisionally adopted, and proclaimed on the 29th from the town- house of Utrecht. The first signers were the stadtholder and deputies of Gelderland, and the members from Holland, Zealand, Utrecht, and Friesland. Subsequently, Overyssel, Groningen, and the northern portion of Brabant, were em- braced iu the confederation, which was for a long period known as the seven United Provinces. This celebrated Union of Utrecht, as its preamble distinctly declared, was designed to confirm, not to annul, the Pacification of Ghent. It was a closer alliance between certain prov- inces, for mutual defense against their common foe. While the contracting parties bound themselves to remain perpetually united, as if they were but one province, each member of the confederation was to retain its own peculiar charters, privileges, customs, and laws, without any abridgment or change. Allegiance to the king was still professed ; but the provinces en- gaged to defend each other against the foreign soldiery, and all hostile invasions whatsoever, THE UNION OF UTRECHT. 441 with their fortunes and their lives. The ex- penses of their mutual protection were to be equitably shared among them all. The power of making war and peace, of concluding treaties, and of establishing imposts, was to depend upon the unanimous consent of the several provinces. Upon other matters, the majority might de- cide. A common currency was to be estab- lished, furthermore, and, more important than all, there was to be religious toleration for both Catholics and Protestants. In many respects, the Union of Utrecht re- sembled our own American Union. As re- garded foreign nations, the confederated prov- inces were virtually a unit, though that unit was composed of several sovereign states. These states were not as yet republics, however ; nor could their envoys to the general assembly of deputies be strictly called representatives of the people. The Dutch Republic was yet in the future ; but the Union of Utrecht prepared its way. A movement equally important, but in the opposite direction, was meanwhile going on in 442 WILLIAM THE SILENT. the remaining provinces. They were about to become reconciled to Spain. As they were not quite prepared openly to repudiate the treaty of Ghent, however, Alexander of Parma pro- fessed himself willing to make that the basis of his present negotiations with them, " provided always that it were interpreted healthily." Since in his opinion religious liberty was never " healthy," of course the Ghent treaty must not be interpreted to mean that, nor anything bor- dering upon it. The only truly sound condi- tion was that wherein every living soul should be a good and faithful member of the Roman Catholic church. And next to that millennial state, to be blessed with the inquisition and edicts, with racks, gibbets, and stakes, was most wholesome and desirable. The " reconciled " nobles exerted a fatal in- fluence over the southern provinces. In spite of repeated remonstrances from the sister states, they began to give ear to the propositions of Parma. Since these Walloon * provinces were * Artois, Hainault, Lille, Douay, and Orchies are those particularly specified in these negotiations with Parma. THE UNION OF UTRECHT. 443 generally devoted to the Romish faith, there was no difficulty about the religious question. They complained of the foreign troops as their principal grievance. Parma did not hesitate to assure them, in the name of the king, that the soldiers should be sent away again forthwith ; for promises are cheaply made by those who do not mean to keep them. He even wrote to the other provinces, inviting them to accept the same terms of reconciliation. It would be only to restore " the system of the Emperor Charles, of very lofty memory." "'To this su- perfluous invitation," says Motley, " the states- general replied that it had been the system of the Emperor Charles, of lofty memory, to maintain the supremacy of Catholicism and of majesty in the Netherlands by burning Neth- erlanders, — a custom which the states, with common accord, had thought it desirable to do away." Early in thg spring, the Walloon provinces, disregarding the continued appeals of the prince and the rest of the states, sent a large number of deputies to treat with Parma, at that 444 WILLIAM THE SILENT. time besieging Maestricbt. Alexander sent out to meet these returning prodigals on their way, received them most graciously in a splendid pavilion, gave them a sumptuous banquet that very afternoon, and entertained them with dances and carousals of all sorts during the whole time of their visit. The envoys were completely captivated with the condescending affability of their illustrious host. A prelimi- nary agreement was soon signed, which in a few months resulted in a final reconciliation of the southern provinces with Spain. Thus the Netherlands were henceforth and forever cut in twain. Tbe dividing line drawn by the craft of Parma and the treachery of the Walloon nobles remains to this day. Alexander's first military operation of con- sequence was the siege of Maestricht, which was commenced in March, 1579, and lasted four months. This city, being located on the borders of Germany, and commanding the upper Meuse, was a very important one. Its inhabitants numbered thirty-four thousand ; its garrison consisted of only one thousand sol- THE UNION OF UTRECHT. 445 diers. Beside these there was a burgher guard of twelve hundred men, and also two thousand peasants, both male and female, who were used to the pickax and mattock, and did excellent service as sappers and miners. The walls were strong and the supplies tolerable. What was more, the people were devoted, heart and soul, to the patriot cause, and fully resolved never to yield. Alexander of Parma had an army nearly equal in numbers to the entire popula- tion of Maestricht, and he was no less deter- mined than they. Our limits forbid us to give full details. The assaults and repulses, the mining and countermining, the ingenious de- vices of warfare on either side, were much like those of the sieges already narrated. The women of Maestricht were not less heroic than those of Harlem. The burghers and their wives were even braver and more resolute than the soldiers themselves. After two or three un- successful assaults, in which ho lost four thou- sand troops, Parma perceived that it was idle to think of carrying Maestricht by storm. Thenceforth he depended chiefly on his sappers 446 WILLIAM THE SILENT. and miners. For a long time he was continu- ally thwarted by the diligent and skillful coun- termining of the besieged. But at length, on the night preceding the festival of Saint Peter and Saint Paul, an accidental discovery ena- bled the Spaniards to surprise and carry the city. The usual massacre at once commenced. Neither old men, nor women, nor little chil- dren, were spared. It is related that the cry of agony which rose from the wretched city was distinctly heard at the distance of* three miles. Hundreds of mothers took their infants in their arms and threw themselves into the river. Those who remained behind were hunted from house to house, hurled from the roofs, torn limb from limb in the streets. Four thousand persons were butchered upon the first day, and at least two thousand more perished before the massacre ceased. There seemed scarcely any- body left in Maestricht after it was over, for the miserable survivors had not the heart to linger among the ruins of their homes and the man- gled corpses of their dearest friends. THE UNION OF UTRECHT. 447 At the time the city was taken, Alexander was sick. But the joy of such a victory soon cured him. He was borne into the town in great state, where he piously paid his thanks- givings, ill the church of Saint Servais, " to his divine comrades, Peter and Paul.* " William of Orange had done his best to save Maestricht, but had been unable to arouse the states to earnest efforts in its behalf. Now that it had fallen, there were men base enough to lay the blame upon him. And yet, within that very year, he had again and again been appealed to, as the only person in the land who could restore order in the turbulent and fac- tious city of Ghent, nor had they sought his aid in vain. In spite of busy calumniators, the prince had a strong hold on almost every indi- vidual heart in the nation. His burdens and trials were continually increasing, but faith in God enabled him tranquilly to sustain them all. * " Petro et Paulo gratias quasi stipendium persolvit commilitoni- bus divis." Strada, p. 130, as quoted by Motley. CHAPTER XXXI. INDEPENDENCE DECLARED. 2|^R0M May to November of this year, there was an august assembly of archbishops, abbots, doctors of divinity, " serene high- nesses, transparencies, and worthiness- es,*" in session at Cologne upon the affairs of the Netherlands. The emperor, the king, the states, and the pope, were severally represented in this illustrious convocation. There was a vast deal of debating and scribbling done by its members, as well as " much excellent eat- ing and drinking," but at the end of the seven months, matters stood precisely as at the be- ginning. The two vital points which the prov- inces never ceased to insist upon — the chartered rights, and religious toleration — were the self- * Quoted from the language of the states' envoys. Motley, Vol. ITT. p. 459. 448 IXDEPEXDEXCE DECLARED. 449 same two which the king would never concede. The imperial commissioners, who had under- taken the part of peacemakers, at length dis- covered that they were wasting their time in trying to reconcile differences so utterly irre- concilable, and so, washing their hands of all further responsibility, they left the aifair " in the hands of God and the parties concerned." After the Cologne conferences had closed, a few of the states' commissioners lingered be- hind, and made their individual peace with Spain. One of these was the unstable Duke of Aerschot, and another the Marquis of Havre. Shortly afterward, two more important cases of treason occurred, in quarters where better things might have been looked for. The Seignior de Bours, who had saved the Antwerp citadel for the patriots in the time of Don John, was now bribed by Parma to give him the city of Mechlin, of which he was governor. The price was five thousand florins and the com- mand of a regiment. However, it was not a very profitable bargain to Parma, as he lost the city within six months by a surprise. Early 29 450 WILLIAM THE SILENT. the next year, Count Renneberg, governor of Friesland, delivered up Groningen, in a similar manner. The original bill of sale of this able, accomplished, and well-paid traitor still exists in the royal archives of Brussels. He had been implicitly trusted by Orange, and within a year or two after his treason, remorse for this deed actually brought him to his grave. • There was no lack of bids for the prince him- self, though nobody dared make him a direct offer of such a disgraceful nature. It was deli- cately intimated, however, through intermedi- ate parties, that " there was nothing he could demand for himself personally that would not be granted." His estates should be restored, his debts paid, his son sent back to him from Spain, he should have liberty of worship for himself, and whatever else he might desire. But the prince nobly declared that " neither for property nor for life, neither for wife nor for children, would he mix in his cup a single drop of treason, nor would he, directly or indirectly, separate himself from the cause on which hung all his evil or felicity." Yet, although he INDEPENDENCE DECLARED. 451 utterly refused to make terms for himself, apart from the states, he magnanimously offered to resign all his offices and withdraw from the country, if they could make better terms for themselves apart from him. But he solemnly warned them not to accept any propositions for peace which did not recognize their rights to their ancient privileges, and to liberty of con- science. The noble mother of William the Silent, who had already given up three of her sons to a patriot's death, had once written to him thus, — " My heart longs for certain tidings from my lord, for methinks the peace now in prospect will prove but an oppression for soul and con- science. I trust my heart's dearly-beloved lord and son will be supported by divine grace to do nothing against God and his own soul's sal- vation. ' Tis better to lose the temporal than the eternal.' " The unfeigned faith which dwelt first in the mother was also in the son. Looking not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen, William of Orange counseled the provinces now to risk every 452 WILLIAM THE SILENT. earthly possession rather than give up religious freedom. Since it was out of the question to bribe the prince, the next endeavor of Spain was to get him assassinated. Cardinal Granvelle had al- ways been dropping hints about " finishing " this troublesome and impracticable personage, whom they could neither conquer nor buy. He now advised Philip to set a price upon his head. In the spring of 1580, this was actually done, to the everlasting infamy of both the car- dinal and the king. This celebrated proclamation of outlawry against Orange was introduced by a long accu- sation, intended to justify the extreme measure. It then proceeded to declare him traitor and miscreant, an enemy of the human race, with whom all loyal subjects were forbidden to have anything more to do. He was to be denied food, drink, fire, and shelter ; his property was to be his who could seize it. " And if any one of our subjects, or any stranger," the ban con- cluded, " should be found sufficiently generous of heart to rid us of this pest, delivering him INDEPENDENCE DECLARED. 453 to us, alive or dead, or taking his life, we will cause to be furnished to him, immediately after the deed shall have been done, the sum of twenty-five thousand crowns in gold. If he, the assassin, have committed any crime, how- ever heinous, we promise to pardon him, and if he be not already noble, we will ennoble him for his valor." Philip fancied the prince would at least be intimidated by this tremendous ban ; but he was disappointed even in that hope. " I am in the hand of God," said the Christian patriot ; " my worldly goods and my life have been long since dedicated to his service. He will dis- pose of them as seems best for his glory and my salvation." T^e ban excited great indignation in the Netherlands. The prince replied to it, in the course of the year, by his celebrated " Apology," defending himself against the calumnies lately promulgated, and maintaining the justice of the cause for whose sake he had been thus con- demned. Shortly after the sentence of out- lawry, Holland and Zealand sufficiently ex- 454 WILLIAM THE SILENT. pressed their judgment of the proscribed prince by renewing their entreaties that he would ac- cept the entire authority as sovereign and chief of those two states, so long as the war should last. When he had finally consented to do so, which was not until July, 1581, the estates secretly canceled the limitation as to time, which had been inserted for no other purpose than to secure his acceptance of the office. He had been their ruler in fact, though not in form, for some years already, and the heredi- tary title of Count of Holland, brought him no additional power. The usual oaths of fidelity and allegiance were exchanged between the prince and the representatives of the two provinces, upon the 24th of July, 1581. Two days afterward, the deputies of those states which had formed the union of Utrecht — now sitting at the Hague — issued their declaration of independence. They entitled it the act of abjugation. The introduction of this document expressed their views of the relations between a monarch and his people, as follows : — INDEPENDENCE DECLARED. 455 " All mankind know that a prince is ap- pointed by God to cherish his subjects, even as a shepherd to guard his sheep. When, there- fore, the prince does not fulfill his duty as pro- tector, when he oppresses his subjects, destroys their ancient liberties, and treats them as slaves, he is to be considered not a prince, but a tyrant. As such, the estates of the land may lawfully and reasonably depose him, and elect another in his room." The next step, of course, was to prove that Philip of Spain had been a tyrant to his Neth- erland provinces. In a cool, dispassionate manner, they went over the history of the last twenty-five years, setting forth how he had governed the country by foreign officers instead of natives ; how he had created additional bish- oprics in order to strengthen the detested in- quisition ; how Alva, acting under the royal command, had deluged the land with blood ; how the king had approved the atrocities of the " Spanish Fury ; " and so on through a long catalogue, down to that crowning outrage, the ban against the Prince of Orange. 456 WILLIAM THE SILENT. From these well-established premises they proceeded logically to the conclusion of the syllogism, namely, that it was lawful and rea- sonable to depose Philip, which, by this their solemn act of abjuration, they declared to be done. They proclaimed to the world that they would never more recognize him as their sove- reign, either in fact or in name. All persons were required to take an oath renouncing his authority, and vowing fidelity to the United Netherlands and their national council. In order to avoid giving offense to such pa- triots as were still Roman Catholics, the reli- gious despotism of Philip had been presented less prominently in the declaration of wrongs than it would otherwise have been. His politi- cal oppression, of itself, had amply justified the revolt, though that alone might not have suf- ficed to alienate the provinces for ever from their hereditary ruler. The estates had else- where openly pronounced the inquisition and the edicts " the first and true cause of all their miseries." Since the United Netherlands at this time INDEPENDENCE DECLARED. 457 had no thought of becoming a republic, they had now to provide themselves with a sove- reign. Though the two provinces of Holland and Zealand had just made the prince their ruler, almost in spite of himself, and the remain- ing five would have been more than content to have him and his descendants govern them also, he steadfastly refused, lest he should seem to have sought a kingdom for himself, rather than freedom for his country. Yet this disin- terested and magnanimous man was formerly represented as an ambitious intriguer. The Duke of Alencon, who had become Duke of Anjou on the elevation of his older brother to the throne of Poland, was now the chief can- didate for the vacant sovereignty. His near relation to the king of France, as well as his prospective matrimonial alliance with the queen of England, weighed much in his favor. The monarch of France would doubtless bestir himself in behalf of the provinces if his brother was made their ruler, and Elizabeth too might be expected to espouse their cause if she es- poused their sovereign. With such aid, the 458 WILLIAM THE SILENT. long contest might soon be happily ended. And though Anjou had by this time become a Catholic once more, his powers were to be so carefully defined and limited that it was thought no harm could come of it, especially as religious toleration was to be the very corner- stone of the new government. In short, the prince urged that even if this alliance were not all that could be desired, it was the best that could be secured. During the summer, while the matter was still undecided, Anjou arrived in the western part of the Netherlands with a considerable force, and relieved Cambray, to which Parma had just laid siege. But as many of his troops had enlisted only for a short time, and as the provinces were not yet ready to make formal propositions to him, he soon proceeded to Eng- land, to pursue his courtship of Queen Eliza- beth. In the autumn, commissioners were sent thither to make arrangements with Anjou for his installation as their sovereign. At that time November, 1581, all Europe believed that the marriage of Elizabeth with the duke was to INDEPENDENCE DECLARED. 459 take place very soon. Indeed, rings had been already exchanged, in token of betrothal, and banquets, tournaments, and all sorts of festivi- ties followed, except the wedding. When the duke embarked for the Netherlands in Febru- ary, 1582, the queen accompanied him as far as Canterbury with great pomp, sent a splendid train of her nobles to escort him to his future realm, and by letter desired the states-general to honor him " as if he were her second self." However, the match was somehow broken off, possibly on account of the personal repulsive- ness of the duke, for, though much younger than the queen, lie was insignificant and ill- formed, his face was blotched and pitted with small-pox, and his nose so enormous and mis- shapen that it looked as if it were double. Notwithstanding his ugliness of person, we are told that he was quick and lively of intellect, and could make himself very agreeable upon occasion. Saint Aldegonde, who was certainly a competent judge, after his first interview with Anjou, described him as " overflowing with bounty, intelligence, and sincerity." But he 460 WILLIAM THE SILENT. found reason subsequently to change his mind, as the queen seems to have changed hers. The duke was solemnly inaugurated at Ant- werp, on the 17th of February, 1582, amid great pomp and display.* He took the re- quired oath to sustain the ancient charters, and subscribed to twenty-seven articles, which explicitly defined his prerogatives and the rights of the states. No arbitrary power was placed in his hands. Except that his authority was to descend to his children, his position was not unlike that of the president of a republic. In the quaint language of Count John of Nas- sau, the provinces had taken care " to provide him with a good muzzle." So they indulged themselves in a great military display, ponder- ous orations, and much pageantry of all sorts, by way of illustrating the joyful occasion. *The sovereignty of Holland and Zealand, however, still remained with the prince, as those provinces would not consent to an7 change. CHAPTER XXXII. CONSPIRACIES AND CRIMES. MONTH after the inauguration of Anjou, there occurred at Antwerp an event of a totally different nature, which for a time wholly absorbed the public mind. It was the attempted assassination of the Prince of Or- ange. Two years had passed since a price was set upon his head, yet ever since that time there had been persons anxiously seeking an oppor- tunity to earn the promised reward. The pres- ent occasion was the birthday of Anjou, March 18th, 1582. A great festival was appointed for that evening, which the prince was of course expected to attend. For some reason, however, the assassin did not wait for that, but went at dinner-time to the private residence of Orange, in the neighborhood of the citadel. Two Neth- 461 462 WILLIAM THE SILENT. erland noblemen, and two distinguished com- missioners from France, dined with Orange that day. His son, young Maurice of Nassau, and two of his nephews, were also present. Upon rising from table, the prince led the way from the dining-room, still conversing with his guests as they passed to the ante-chamber. Just then some one advanced from among the servants with a petition in his hand. The stran- ger was a shabby-looking youth, small of stature, of a pale and sallow complexion. The prince kindly took the offered paper, for he was ever accessible even to the humblest of the people. At that instant, the fellow suddenly drew a pistol and discharged it full at the prince's head, to which it was so close as actually to set his beard on fire. The ball entered beneath the right ear, passed through the roof of the mouth, and came out on the opposite side, carrying away two teeth. The prince was stunned and blinded for the moment, though he did not fall, and could not at first imagine what had caused the shock. But recovering himself so as to comprehend CONSPIRACIES AND CRIMES. 463 what had happened, he hastily exclaimed, " Do not kill him ! I forgive him my death." It was too late ; two of the gentlemen had run the assassin through with their swords before he had time to stir from the spot, and the hal- berdiers immediately rushed upon him also, so that he received not less than thirty-two mortal wounds. The prince was supported to his chamber, and the surgeons examined the wound. The flame from the pistol had cauterized the orifice made by the ball, and this alone had prevented his bleeding to death on the spot. The excitement in the city was immense, for it was even sur- mised that Anjou had some secret share in the deed. But it was soon ascertained that the whole affair was of Spanish origin. The prince sent a message begging the people to make no tumult ; but in case God should call him to himself, to remember him tenderly, and faith- fully to obey their new ruler. The young assassin, John Jaureguy by name, was the servant of Gaspar d' Anastro, a Spanish merchant of Antwerp. This gentleman, being 464 WILLIAM THE SILENT. in an embarrassed condition pecuniarily, had bethought him that he might retrieve his affairs with the handsome reward long since offered to him who would murder William of Orange. He had entered .into a private and personal con- tract with Philip, duly signed and sealed by the royal hand as well as his own, according to which he promised to dispatch the illustri- ous victim within a certain time. For this ser- vice he was to be compensated with eighty thousand ducats, and made a knight of San- tiago. Anastro did not like to risk his own precious neck, however, for as he piously observed, " Grod had probably reserved him for other things." Being rather sharp at bargaining, he let out the dangerous job to his servant for three thousand crowns, the balance of course going into his own pocket. Before the deed was done, he left the city, and was soon safe within Parma's lines. Two other accomplices were arrested, however, confessed their guilt, and were executed within ten days. Had not the prince specially requested that if justice CONSPIRACIES AND CRIMES. 465 absolutely required their death, they should be executed in the manner least painful, they would doubtless have suffered the severest tor- tures at the hands of the exasperated populace. For weeks the prince lay in a very dangerous condition. A solemn fast was observed in Ant- werp on the third day, and a contemporary writer records that " never had the churches been so thronged, nor so many tears been shed." At the end of three weeks, he was thought to be better, and thanksgivings began to be min- gled witli the continued prayers for his re- covery. But on the 5th of April, his case be- came again exceedingly alarming. The cica- trix upon the neck, which had previously pre- vented any serious loss of blood, now sloughed off. The hemorrhage was excessive ; and it was almost impossible to check it by a bandage, without suffocating the patient. The prince calmly bade farewell to his children, and all hope seemed to be over. But one of the sur- geons contrived to arrest the flow of blood, sim- ply by having the orifice of the wound firmly and constantly compressed by the thumb of an 30 466 WILLIAM THE SILENT. assistant. Night and day, successive attend- ants watched thus at the bedside, each in his turn guarding the portals of life, until at last the wound closed again. Upon the 2nd of May, the prince was able to offer his thanks- givings in the great cathedral, surrounded by vast multitudes of tearful eyes and rejoicing hearts. But his devoted wife, the excellent Charlotte de Bourbon, was even then on her death-bed. Worn out by the incessant watching and agitat- ing suspense of those anxious weeks, she was taken with a violent fever, and expired only three days after the public thanksgiving for the prince's recovery. She had ever been inex- pressibly dear to her illustrious husband, and this sorrowful and unexpected event was near costing him a relapse. But he was mercifully spared. During this year Parma's military operations went on rather languidly, for want of sufficient forces. After the United Provinces concluded their compact with Anjou, he persuaded the " reconciled " states that it was necessary to CONSPIRACIES AND CRIMES. 467 recall the foreign troops. Accordingly Spanish and Italian regiments poured into the Nether- land territories once more, as if there had never been the least objection > and the Walloons now discovered that to be "reconciled" was to be subjugated, just as their northern neighbors had predicted that it would be. Notwithstanding all the imposing ceremonies and magnificent display with which the new sovereign had been welcomed, Anjou soon began to find his position decidedly irksome. The " muzzle " was not altogether convenient to wear. His base favorites were ever insinuat- ing that he ought to have not merely the sem- blance but the reality of power. Suppose the estates and the Prince of Orange, their real ruler, had denied it to him ; he could still take it by force, and this he now resolved to do. His plan was to occupy the chief cities in Flanders with his own troops, seizing them all, if possible, on the same day. The 15th of January, 1583, was fixed upon. In several cities the plot was successful. Bruges had a timely warning, and closed her gates. Ant- 468 WILLIAM THE SILENT. werp, the duke's own residence, was not at- tempted until the following day. At the time, there were several thousand French troops encamped close at hand. He professed to intend sending them against the city of Endhoven. But just at the hour when nearly everybody in Antwerp was at dinner, Anjou mounted his horse and rode out of the palace-yard, in the direction of the camp, es- corted by his usual body-guard and some troop- ers beside. When they reached the city gate the duke gave his followers a signal, and then spurred off to his camp, while they sprang upon the burgher guard at the portal, and butchered every man. Their comrades outside immediately rushed into the town, fancying that Antwerp lay wholly at their mercy, and that they had only to plunder and butcher at their pleasure, as the Spaniards had done seven years before. Galloping at full speed through the quiet streets in every direction, they shouted, " The city is won ! the city is won ! Hurrah for the Duke of Anjou ! Kill, kill, kill ! " The astonished burghers, leaving their din- CONSPIRACIES AND CRIMES. 469 Ders, looked out from windows and doors to discover the meaning of the horrid uproar, and were assailed with showers of bullets. It was soon evident that Anjou's soldiers were at- tempting to repeat the awful scenes of the " Spanish Fury." Already they felt so sure of their prey that they were scattering here and there to ransack warehouses and jewelers' shops. The burghers saw that their only reli- ance must be upon God and their own brave hearts, and they flew at once to the rescue. The alarm was sounded, and the city guards mustered on the instant. The citizens rose, to a man, against the invaders of their homes. Even women and children shared in the sudden enthusiasm and the desperate resolve. Mount- ing the roofs, they hurled down upon the heads of their foes whatever might crush or wound. Within an hour, most of the four thousand French soldiers, to whom Anjou had abandoned the city when he passed out of the Kipdorp gate, were either captured or slain. Not less than two hundred and fifty French nobles of high rank perished in the infamous attempt, together with nearly two thousand common sol- 470 WILLIAM THE SILENT. diers. Less than one hundred of the burghers fell. Such was the " French Fury." Its aim had been no less diabolical than that of the Span- iards seven years before. It was no fault of Anjou's that Antwerp had not been a second time drenched in the blood of her own sons. Had not their eagerness for plunder led the invaders to scatter in search of it prematurely, the plot might easily have succeeded. But it proved an utter and ruinous failure, and Anjou hastened to escape from the scene where his treachery had been so completely exposed. On the march he lost a thousand of his remaining men, in crossing a tract which the Mechlin peo- ple had purposely inundated, to impede his escape. Shortly after this Anjou left for Paris, — as it proved never to return. On the 10th of June, 1584, he died, in extreme suffering, and sweat- ing blood from every pore. We can hardly sup- pose it was any great grief to the provinces that their connection with so bad a man was thus finally terminated. Parma availed himself of the treachery of CONSPIRACIES AND CRIMES. 471 Anjou to get possession of several towns thus left exposed, among which were Dunkirk and Newport. The province of Flanders, though not one of the seven which had formed the Union of Utrecht, was, for the most part, in sympathy with them rather than with the Wal- loon states, and several of its chief cities for a time belonged to that confederation. But suc- cessive treasons, both great and small, were doing much harm to the patriot cause in that quarter, as well as at the uorth. CHAPTER XXXIII. THE ASSASSINATION. fUST about a year after that attempt upon the prince's life which had so nearly proved Tfi fatal, another person came from Spain to Antwerp upon the same errand. He was arrested, confessed his design, and suffered death in March, 1583. In the spring of 1584, a merchant of Flushing, named Hans Hanzoon, having arranged his plot with the Spanish am- bassador in Paris, tried to assassinate the prince by mean* of gunpowder concealed under his dwelling in that place, and also under his seat in church. He too was detected and put to death. About the same time Parma engaged still another person to poison Orange. He had advanced money, indeed, to numerous would- be assassins from time to time ; but in general 472 THE ASSASSINATION. 473 they pocketed the funds without attempting to do the job. However, at last there came the right man. It was now the summer of 1584. During the previous year, the prince had married Louisa de Coligny, daughter of the celebrated admiral. She was a most amiable and excel- lent woman, and was the mother of the after- ward celebrated stadtholder, Frederic Henry. They were at present living quietly in the pleas- ant little city of Delft, in the southern part of Holland. Their residence was a plain, two- storied brick building, which had once been a cloister, upon the old Delft street. This was one of the principal thoroughfares, and along its course, as usual in Dutch cities, ran a canal, bordered on each side with lime-trees. There was a spacious court-yard in front of the house, and at one side a narrow lane running back to the stables and other out-buildings, which extended to the city wall. Early in the morning of the 8th of July, des- patches relating to the death of Anjou had arrived from France, and the prince read them 474 WILLIAM THE SILENT. while still in his bed. Desiring to obtain some additional details in regard to Anjou's illness, he sent for the messenger to come to his chamber. It was a young man calling himself Francis Guion, who had some months before asked pro- tection, pretending to be a Calvinist from Bur- gundy, whose father had suffered martyrdom for his faith. He was an insignificant-looking person, very quiet and exemplary in his life, and having a devout air which corresponded well with his professions. Here was the assas- sin, and his victim lay before him, alone, un- armed, in his bed. Balthazar Gerard, for such was his true name, had burned to commit this crime for seven long years. He was a fanatic rather than a mercenary assassin, and in spite of dis- tance, poverty, and dangers, he had at length made his way to the spot where he might hope to gain access to the prince. He had not done this without the knowledge and encouragement of Catholic ecclesiastics, and of Parma himself. But the latter, grown wiser by past experience, had declined to advance money for his expenses. THE ASSASSINATION. 475 It would be time to pay the wages when the work was done. This was his first opportunity of approaching the prince's person, and it was so unexpected that he was not prepared to improve it, being totally unarmed. Having answered the prince's inquiries, he was forced to go away leaving the bloody task unaccomplished. He could not hope ever to have another chance like this ; but he resolved that he would not again miss any opportunity. He lingered a little about the court-yard to make a stealthy survey of the premises, and a sergeant of halberdiers asked what he was waiting for. To this he replied that he wished very much to g6 to church that day, but his attire was so dusty and shabby that he could not venture to do so. He needed shoes and stockings particularly. The sergeant mentioned his case to an officer, the officer told the prince, and the prince at once bade him give the stranger some money. But instead of buying clothes, Gerard next morning purchased with that money a pair of pistols from a soldier. The bullets which he 476 WILLIAM THE SILENT. designed to use lie had means of poisoning, so that wherever they might lodge, their wound must be fatal. He had not to wait long. On Tuesday, July 10th, 1584, as the prince was going to dinner, with his wife leaning on his arm, and other ladies and gentlemen of the family following, Gerard appeared at the door and requested a passport. The princess felt a sudden pang of apprehension at sight of the stranger's coun- tenance, which impressed her as that of a vil- lain. But to her anxious questioning William carelessly replied that it was only somebody wanting a passport, and bade his secretary make it out. It was about two o'clock when the company left the table to return to the apartments above, the prince leading the way, as before. The dining-room was on the ground floor, and there was a narrow vestibule between it and the stair- case. Upon the left side of the vestibule, and near the foot of the staircase which they were approaching, there was a deep archway sunk in the wall, through whicji one might pass out THE ASSASSINATION. 477 into the lane at the side of the house. The stairs were lighted by a large window, half-way up ; but the sunken arch was in shadow. As the prince commenced leisurely to ascend the stairs, the insignificant figure of Gerard suddenly emerged from the dim recess; there was the flash and the report of a pistol, and Orange fell, pierced by three balls. One of the officers in attendance caught the prince in his arms. He simply exclaimed in French, " my God, have mercy upon my soul ! my God, have mercy upon this poor people ! " Then, begin- ning to swoon, he was carried to a couch in the dining-room. His sister asked if he com- mended his soul to Jesus Christ, and he faintly answered, " Yes." It was the last word he ever spoke. In a few moments he expired, in the arms of the princess, and his sister, Catherine of Schwartzburg. The murderer, dropping his pistols the mo- ment he had fired, darted through the door of the archway, and thence up the lane toward the ramparts, closely pursued by several pages and halberdiers. Chancing to stumble in his flight, he was overtaken before reaching the wall, and 478 WILLIAM THE SILENT. brought back to the house. He attempted no denial of the crime, and manifested neither regret nor fear. In his quiet way, he evidently gloried in the deed. The clement prince was no longer there to intercede, and the murderer was finally sentenced to the most savage tor- tures which the fury of the people could devise. He endured his sufferings with unshaken forti- tude to the last, declaring that were it possible, he would repeat the act, even should it cost him a thousand deaths. The promised reward was duly paid to his parents, who were still living in Burgundy. " The prince was entombed," says Motley, " on the 3rd of August, at Delft, amid the tears of a whole nation. Never was a more exten- sive, unaffected, and legitimate sorrow felt at the death of any human being." We Ameri- cans can well conceive what it was. Since our honored countryman penned those words, we have witnessed something a good deal like the scene they described, — a funeral whose train stretched half across a continent, and whose mourners were counted by millions. To mortal eyes, it seemed that William of THE ASSASSINATION. 479 Orange had been removed long before his work was done. But God's cause never goes to ship- wreck because he 1ms called away the pilot ; for, though unseen, his own hand is ever on the helm. Perhaps it was needful thus to teach men the sacred lesson, " It is better to trust in the Lord than to put confidence in princes." Perhaps also the spectacle of their benefactor's martyrdom was required to complete and to crown the effect of his noble and self-sacrificing life, — to embalm with an everlasting fragrance his beloved name. Meanwhile, Providence had other agencies in reserve by which to complete the deliverance of the Netherlands, and though the struggle was long and sore, victory was achieved at last. It was the great object of William the Silent to secure religious liberty to all. He was almost the only man of his time whose mind could admit the grand idea. We, in this favored age, can scarcely conceive what it would be to have freedom of conscience denied. Our danger is rather that we shall have freedom without conscience, — that we shall let a vague 480 WILLIAM THE SILENT. liberalism drift us away from religious princi pie altogether. Yet in order to be tolerant of the diverse beliefs of others we need not be lax and unsettled in our own. It is not from a spiritual vacuum that either Christian charity or moral heroism may be expected to proceed. The history of the Netherland conflict well illustrates the need of a warm and living faith in a divine Saviour, to nerve us for life's bat- tles, as well as to prepare us for heaven's re- wards. THE END. -,£R M^y <*■ ,,pA^ sc "0oi