History of the Reign of Philip the Second, King of Spain, Vols. 1 and 2

But Aremberg was too well acquainted with the difficulties of the ground to risk an engagement, at least till he was strengthened by the reinforcement under Megen. Unfortunately, the Spanish infantry, accustomed to victory, and feeling a contempt for the disorderly levies opposed to them, loudly called to be led against the heretics. In vain their more prudent general persisted in his plan. They chafed at the delay, refusing to a Flemish commander the obedience which they might probably have paid to one of their own nation. They openly accused him of treachery, and of having an understanding with his countrymen in the enemy's camp. Stung by their reproaches, Aremberg had the imprudence to do what more than one brave man has been led to do, both before and since; he surrendered his own judgment to the importunities of his soldiers. Crying out that "they should soon see if he were a traitor!"[1099] he put himself at the head of his little army, and marched against the enemy. His artillery, meanwhile, which he had posted on his right, opened a brisk fire on Louis's left wing, where, owing to the nature of the ground, it did little execution.

Under cover of this fire the main body of the Spanish infantry moved forward; but, as their commander had foreseen, the men soon became entangled in the morass; their ranks were thrown into disorder; and when at length, after long and painful efforts, they emerged on the firm ground, they were more spent with toil than they would have been after a hard day's march. Thus jaded, and sadly in disarray, they were at once assailed in front by an enemy who, conscious of his own advantage, was all fresh and hot for action. Notwithstanding their distressed condition, Aremberg's soldiers maintained their ground for some time, like men unaccustomed to defeat. At length, Louis ordered the cavalry on his right to charge Aremberg's flank. This unexpected movement, occurring at a critical moment, decided the day. Assailed in front and in flank, hemmed in by the fatal morass in the rear, the Spaniards were thrown into utter confusion. In vain their gallant leader, proof against danger, though not against the taunts of his followers, endeavored to rally them. His horse was killed under him; and as he was mounting another, he received a shot from a foot-soldier, and fell mortally wounded from his saddle.[1100] The rout now became general. Some took to the morass, and fell into the hands of the victors. Some succeeded in cutting their way through the ranks of their assailants, while many more lost their lives in the attempt. The ground was covered with the wounded and the dead. The victory was complete.

Sixteen hundred of the enemy were left on that fatal field. In the imagination of the exile thirsting for vengeance, it might serve in some degree to balance the bloody roll of victims whom the pitiless duke had sent to their account. Nine pieces of artillery, with a large quantity of ammunition and military stores, a rich service of plate belonging to Aremberg, and a considerable sum of money lately received by him to pay the arrears of the soldiers, fell into the hands of the patriots. Yet as serious a loss as any inflicted{352} on the Spaniards was that of their brave commander. His corpse, disfigured by wounds, was recognized, amid a heap of the slain, by the insignia of the Golden Fleece, which he wore round his neck, and which Louis sent to the prince, his brother, as a proud trophy of his victory.[1101] The joy of the conquerors was dimmed by one mournful event, the death of Count Adolphus of Nassau, who fell bravely fighting at the head of his troops, one of the first victims in the war of the revolution. He was a younger brother of William, only twenty-seven years of age. But he had already given promise of those heroic qualities which proved him worthy of the generous race from which he sprung.[1102]

The battle was fought on the twenty-third of May, 1568. On the day following, Count Megen arrived with a reinforcement; too late to secure the victory, but not, as it proved, too late to snatch the fruits of it from the victors. By a rapid movement, he succeeded in throwing himself into the town of Groningen, and thus saved that important place from falling into the hands of the patriots.[1103]

The tidings of the battle of Heyligerlee caused a great sensation through the country. While it raised the hopes of the malecontents, it filled the duke of Alva with indignation,—the greater as he perceived that the loss of the battle was to be referred mainly to the misconduct of his own soldiers. He saw with alarm the disastrous effect likely to be produced by so brilliant a success on the part of the rebels, in the very beginning of the struggle. The hardy men of Friesland would rise to assert their independence. The prince of Orange, with his German levies, would unite with his victorious brother, and, aided by the inhabitants, would be in condition to make formidable head against any force that Alva could muster. It was an important crisis, and called for prompt and decisive action. The duke, with his usual energy, determined to employ no agent here, but to take the affair into his own hands, concentrate his forces, and march in person against the enemy.

Yet there were some things he deemed necessary to be done, if it were only for their effect on the public mind, before entering on the campaign. On the twenty-eighth of May, sentence was passed on the prince of Orange, his brother Louis, and their noble companions. They were pronounced guilty of contumacy in not obeying the summons of the council, and of levying war against the king. For this they were condemned to perpetual banishment, and their estates confiscated to the use of the crown. The sentence was{353} signed by the duke of Alva.[1104] William's estates had been already sequestrated, and a body of Spanish troops was quartered in his town of Breda.

Another act, of a singular nature, intimated pretty clearly the dispositions of the government. The duke caused the Hôtel de Culemborg, where he had fixed his own residence before the regent's departure, and where the Gueux had held their meetings on coming to Brussels, to be levelled with the ground. On the spot a marble column was raised, bearing on each side of the base the following inscription: "Here once stood the mansion of Florence Pallant,"—the name of the count of Culemborg,—"now razed to the ground for the execrable conspiracy plotted therein against religion, the Roman Catholic Church, the king's majesty, and the country."[1105] Alva by this act intended doubtless to proclaim to the world, not so much his detestation of the confederacy—that would have been superfluous—as his determination to show no mercy to those who had taken part in it. Indeed, in his letters, on more than one occasion, he speaks of the signers of the Compromise as men who had placed themselves beyond the pale of mercy.

But all these acts were only the prelude to the dismal tragedy which was soon to be performed. Nearly nine months had elapsed since the arrest of the Counts Egmont and Hoorne. During all this time they had remained prisoners of state, under a strong guard, in the castle of Ghent. Their prosecution had been conducted in a deliberate, and indeed dilatory manner, which had nourished in their friends the hope of a favorable issue. Alva now determined to bring the trial to a close,—to pass sentence of death on the two lords, and to carry it into execution before departing on his expedition.

It was in vain that some of his counsellors remonstrated on the impolicy, at a crisis like the present, of outraging the feelings of the nation, by whom Egmont in particular was so much beloved. In vain they suggested that the two nobles would serve as hostages for the good behavior of the people during his absence, since any tumult must only tend to precipitate the fate of the prisoners.[1106] Whether it was that Alva distrusted the effect on his master of the importunities, from numerous quarters, in their behalf; or, what is far more likely, that he feared lest some popular rising, during his absence, might open the gates to his prisoners, he was determined to proceed at once to their execution. His appetite for vengeance may have been sharpened by mortification at the reverse his arms had lately experienced; and he may have felt that a blow like the present would be the most effectual to humble the arrogance of the nation.

There were some other prisoners of less note, but of no little consideration, who remained to be disposed of. Their execution would prepare the public mind for the last scene of the drama. There were nineteen persons who, at this time, lay in confinement in the castle of Vilvoorde, a fortress of great strength, two leagues distant from Brussels. They were chiefly men of rank, and for the most part members of the Union. For these latter, of course, there was no hope. Their trials were now concluded, and they were only{354} waiting their sentences. On the ominous twenty-eighth of May, a day on which the Council of Blood seems to have been uncommonly alert, they were all, without exception, condemned to be beheaded, and their estates were confiscated to the public use.

On the first of June, they were brought to Brussels, having been escorted there by nine companies of Spanish infantry, were conducted to the great square in front of the Hôtel de Ville, and, while the drums beat to prevent their last words from reaching the ears of the by-standers, their heads were struck off by the sword of the executioner. Eight of the number, who died in the Roman Catholic faith, were graciously allowed the rites of Christian burial. The heads of the remaining eleven were set upon poles, and their bodies left to rot upon the gibbet, like those of the vilest malefactors.[1107]

On the second of June, ten or twelve more, some of them persons of distinction, perished on the scaffold, in the same square in Brussels. Among these was Villers, the companion of Hoogstraten in the ill-starred expedition to Brabant, in which he was made prisoner. Since his captivity he had made some disclosures respecting the measures of Orange and his party, which might have entitled him to the consideration of Alva. But he had signed the Compromise.

On the following day, five other victims were led to execution within the walls of Vilvoorde, where they had been long confined. One of these has some interest for us, Casembrot, lord of Backerzele, Egmont's confidential secretary. That unfortunate gentleman had been put to the rack more than once, to draw from him disclosures to the prejudice of Egmont. But his constancy proved stronger than the cruelty of his persecutors. He was now to close his sufferings by an ignominious death; so far fortunate, however, that it saved him from witnessing the fate of his beloved master.[1108] Such were the gloomy scenes which ushered in the great catastrophe of the fifth of June.{355}

CHAPTER IV.

Nine months had now elapsed since the Counts Egmont and Hoorne had been immured within the strong citadel of Ghent. During their confinement they had met with even less indulgence than was commonly shown to prisoners of state. They were not allowed to take the air of the castle, and were debarred from all intercourse with the members of their families. The sequestration of their property at the time of their arrest had moreover reduced them to such extreme indigence, that but for the care of their friends they would have wanted the common necessaries of life.[1109]

During this period their enemies had not been idle. We have seen, at the time of the arrest of the two nobles, that their secretaries and their private papers had been also seized. "Backerzele," writes the duke of Alva to Philip, "makes disclosures every day respecting his master Count Egmont. When he is put to the torture, wonders may be expected from him in this way!"[1110] But all that the rack extorted from the unhappy man was some obscure intimation respecting a place in which Egmont had secreted a portion of his effects. After turning up the ground in every direction round the castle of Ghent, the Spaniards succeeded in disinterring eleven boxes filled with plate, and some caskets of jewels, and other precious articles,—all that now remained of Egmont's once splendid fortune.[1111]

Meanwhile commissioners were sent into the provinces placed under the rule of the two noblemen to collect information respecting their government. The burgomasters of the towns were closely questioned, and, where they showed reluctance, were compelled by menaces to answer. But what Alva chiefly relied on was the examination of the prisoners themselves.

On the twelfth of November, 1567, a commission composed of Vargas, Del Rio, and the secretary Pratz, proceeded to Ghent, and began a personal examination of Egmont. The interrogatories covered the whole ground of the recent troubles. They were particularly directed to ascertain Egmont's relations with the reformed party, but above all, his connection with the confederates,—the offence of deepest dye in the view of the commissioners. The examination continued through five days; and a record, signed and sworn to by the several parties, furnished the basis of the future proceedings against the prisoner. A similar course was then taken in regard to Hoorne.[1112]{356}

In the mean time the friends of the two nobles were making active exertions in their behalf. Egmont, as we have already seen, was married to a German princess, Sabina, sister of the elector of Bavaria,—a lady who, from her rank, the charm of her manners, and her irreproachable character, was the most distinguished ornament of the court of Brussels. She was the mother of eleven children, the eldest of them still of tender age. Surrounded by this numerous and helpless family, thus suddenly reduced from affluence to miserable penury, the countess became the object of general commiseration. Even the stern heart of Alva seems to have been touched, as he notices her "lamentable situation," in one of his letters to Philip.[1113]

The unhappy lady was fortunate in securing the services of Nicolas de Landas, one of the most eminent jurists of the country, and a personal friend of her husband. In her name, he addressed letters to several of the German princes, and to the Emperor Maximilian, requesting their good offices in behalf of her lord. He also wrote both to Alva and the king, less to solicit the release of Egmont—a thing little to be expected—than to obtain the removal of the cause from the Council of Blood to a court consisting of the knights of the Golden Fleece. To this both Egmont and Hoorne had a good claim, as belonging to that order, the statutes of which, solemnly ratified by Philip himself, guarantied to its members the right of being tried only by their peers. The frank and independent tone with which the Flemish jurist, himself also one of the order, and well skilled in the law, urged this claim on the Spanish monarch, reflects honor on his memory.

Hoorne's wife, also a German lady of high connection, and his step-mother, the countess-dowager, were unwearied in their exertions in his behalf. They wrote to the knights of the Golden Fleece, in whatever country residing, and obtained their written testimony to the inalienable right of the accused to be tried by his brethren.[1114] This was obviously a point of the last importance, since a trial by the Council of Blood was itself equivalent to a condemnation.

Several of the electors, as well as other princes of the empire, addressed Philip directly on the subject, beseeching him to deal with the two nobles according to the statutes of the order. Maximilian wrote two letters to the same purpose; and, touching on the brilliant services of Egmont, he endeavored to excite the king's compassion for the desolate condition of the countess and her children.[1115]

But it was not foreigners only who interceded in behalf of the lords. Mansfeldt, than whom Philip had not a more devoted subject in the Netherlands, implored his sovereign to act conformably to justice and reason in the matter.[1116] Count Barlaimont, who on all occasions had proved himself no less stanch in his loyalty, found himself now in an embarrassing situation,—being both a knight of the order and a member of the Council of Troubles. He wrote accordingly to Philip, beseeching his majesty to relieve him from the{357} necessity of either acting like a disloyal subject or of incurring the reproaches of his brethren.[1117]

Still more worthy of notice is the interference of Cardinal Granvelle, who, forgetting his own disgrace, for which he had been indebted to Egmont perhaps as much as to any other person, now generously interceded in behalf of his ancient foe. He invoked the clemency of Philip, as more worthy of a great prince than rigor. He called to mind the former good deeds of the count, and declared, if he had since been led astray, the blame was chargeable on others rather than on himself.[1118] But although the cardinal wrote more than once to the king in this strain, it was too late to efface the impression made by former communications, in which he had accused his rival of being a party to the treasonable designs of the prince of Orange.[1119] This impression had been deepened by the reports from time to time received from the regent, who at one period, as we have seen, withdrew her confidence altogether from Egmont. Thus the conviction of that nobleman's guilt was so firmly settled in the king's mind, that, when Alva received the government of the Netherlands, there can be little doubt that Egmont was already marked out as the first great victim to expiate the sins of the nation. The arguments and entreaties, therefore, used on the present occasion to dissuade Philip from his purpose, had no other effect than to quicken his movements. Anxious to rid himself of importunities so annoying, he ordered Alva to press forward the trial, adding, at the same time, that all should be made so clear that the world, whose eyes were now turned on these proceedings, might be satisfied of their justice.[1120]

Before the end of December the attorney-general Du Bois had prepared the articles of accusation against Egmont. They amounted to no less than ninety, some of them of great length. They chiefly rested on evidence derived from the personal examination, sustained by information gathered from other quarters. The first article, which, indeed, may be said to have been the key to all the rest, charged Egmont with having conspired with William and the other banished lords to shake off the Spanish rule, and divide the government among themselves. With this view he had made war on the faithful Granvelle, had sought to concentrate the powers of the various councils into one, had resisted the Inquisition, had urged the meeting of the states-general, in short, had thwarted, as far as possible, in every particular, the intentions of the king. He was accused, moreover, of giving encouragement to the sectaries. He had not only refused his aid when asked to repress their violence, but had repeatedly licensed their meetings, and allowed them to celebrate their religious rites. Egmont was too stanch a Catholic to warrant his own faith being called into question. It was only in connection with the political movements of the country that he was supposed to have countenanced the party of religious reform. Lastly he was charged, not only with abetting the confederacy of the nobles, but with having, in conjunction with the prince of Orange and his associates, devised the original plan of it. It was proof of the good-will he bore the league, that he had retained in his {358}service more than one member of his household after they had subscribed the Compromise. On these various grounds, Egmont was declared to be guilty of treason.[1121]

The charges, which cover a great space, would seem at the first glance to be crudely put together, confounding things trivial, and even irrelevant to the question, with others of real moment.[1122] Yet they must be admitted to have been so cunningly prepared as to leave an impression most unfavorable to the innocence of the prisoner. The attorney-general, sometimes audaciously perverting the answers of Egmont,[1123] at other times giving an exaggerated importance to his occasional admissions, succeeded in spreading his meshes so artfully, that it required no slight degree of coolness and circumspection, even in an innocent party, to escape from them.

The instrument was delivered to Egmont on the twenty-ninth of December. Five days only were allowed him to prepare his defence,—and that too without the aid of a friend to support, or of counsel to advise him. He at first resolutely declined to make a defence at all, declaring that he was amenable to no tribunal but that of the members of the order. Being informed, however, that if he persisted he would be condemned for contumacy, he consented, though with a formal protest against the proceeding as illegal, to enter on his defence.

He indignantly disclaimed the idea of any design to subvert the existing government. He admitted the charges in regard to his treatment of Granvelle, and defended his conduct on the ground of expediency,—of its being demanded by the public interest. On the same ground he explained his course in reference to some of the other matters charged on him, and especially in relation to the sectaries,—too strong in numbers, he maintained, to be openly resisted. He positively denied the connection imputed to him with the confederates; declaring that, far from countenancing the league, he had always lamented its existence, and discouraged all within his reach from joining it. In reply to the charge of not having dismissed Backerzele after it was known that he had joined the confederates, he excused himself by alleging the good services which his secretary had rendered the government, more especially in repressing the disorders of the iconoclasts. On the whole, his answers seem to have been given in good faith, and convey the impression—probably not far from the truth—of one who, while he did not approve of the policy of the crown, and thought, indeed, some of its measures impracticable, had no design to overturn the government.[1124]

The attorney-general next prepared his accusation of Count Hoorne, consisting of sixty-three separate charges. They were of much the same import with those brought against Egmont. The bold, impatient temper of the{359} admiral made him particularly open to the assault of his enemies. He was still more peremptory than his friend in his refusal to relinquish his rights as a knight of the Golden Fleece, and appear before the tribunal of Alva. When prevailed on to waive his scruples, his defence was couched in language so direct and manly as at once engages our confidence. "Unskilled as I am in this sort of business," he remarks, "and without the aid of counsel to guide me, if I have fallen into errors, they must be imputed, not to intention, but to the want of experience.... I can only beseech those who shall read my defence to believe that it has been made sincerely and in all truth, as becomes a gentleman of honorable descent."[1125]

By the remonstrances of the prisoners and their friends, the duke was at length prevailed on to allow them counsel. Each of the two lords obtained the services of five of the most eminent jurists of the country; who, to their credit, seem not to have shrunk from a duty which, if not attended with actual danger, certainly did not lie in the road to preferment.[1126]

The counsel of the two lords lost no time in preparing the defence of their clients, taking up each charge brought against them by the attorney-general, and minutely replying to it. Their defence was substantially the same with that which had been set up by the prisoners themselves, though more elaborate, and sustained by a greater array both of facts and arguments.[1127] Meanwhile the counsel did not remit their efforts to have the causes brought before the tribunal of the Toison d'Or. Unless this could be effected, they felt that all endeavors to establish the innocence of their clients would be unavailing.

Alva had early foreseen the embarrassment to which he would be exposed on this ground. He had accordingly requested Philip to stop all further solicitations by making known his own decision in the matter.[1128] The king in reply assured the duke that men of authority and learning, to whom the subject had been committed, after a full examination, entirely confirmed the decision made before Alva's departure, that the case of treason did not come within the cognizance of the Toison d'Or.[1129] Letters patent accompanied{360} this note, empowering the duke to try the cause.[1130] With these credentials Alva now strove to silence, if not to satisfy, the counsel of the prisoners; and, by a formal decree, all further applications for transferring the cause from his own jurisdiction to that of the Golden Fleece were peremptorily forbidden.

Yet all were not to be thus silenced. Egmont's countess still continued unwearied in her efforts to excite a sympathy in her lord's behalf in all those who would be likely to have any influence with the government. Early in 1568 she again wrote to Philip, complaining that she had not been allowed so much as to see her husband. She implored the king to take her and her children as sureties for Egmont, and permit him to be removed to one of his own houses. If that could not be, she begged that he might at least be allowed the air of the castle, lest, though innocent, his confinement might cost him his life. She alludes to her miserable condition, with her young and helpless family, and trusts in the king's goodness and justice that she shall not be forced to seek a subsistence in Germany, from which country she had been brought to Flanders by his father the emperor.[1131] The letter, says a chronicler of the time, was not to be read by any one without sincere commiseration for the writer.[1132]

The German princes, at the same time, continued their intercessions with the king for both the nobles; and the duke of Bavaria, and the duke and duchess of Lorraine, earnestly invoked his clemency in their behalf. Philip, wearied by this importunity but not wavering in his purpose, again called on Alva to press the trial to a conclusion.[1133]

Towards the end of April, 1568, came that irruption across the borders by Hoogstraten and the other lords, described in the previous chapter. Alva, feeling probably that his own presence might be required to check the invaders, found an additional motive for bringing the trials to a decision.

On the sixth of May, the attorney-general presented a remonstrance against the dilatory proceedings of Egmont's counsel, declaring that, although so many months had elapsed, they had neglected to bring forward their witnesses in support of their defence. He prayed that a day might be named for the termination of the process.[1134]

In the latter part of May, news came of the battle won by Louis of Nassau in the north. That now became certain which had before been only probable,—that Alva must repair in person to the seat of war, and assume the command{361} of the army. There could be no further delay. On the first of June, a decree was published declaring that the time allowed for the defence of the prisoners had expired, and that no evidence could henceforth be admitted.[1135] The counsel for the accused loudly protested against a decision which cut them off from all means of establishing the innocence of their clients. They had abundant testimony at hand, they said, and had only waited until the government should have produced theirs. This was plausible, as it was in the regular course for the prosecuting party to take precedence. But one can hardly doubt that the wary lawyers knew that too little was to be expected from a tribunal like the Council of Blood to wish to have the case brought to a decision. By delaying matters, some circumstance might occur,—perhaps some stronger expression of the public sentiment,—to work a favorable change in the mind of the king. Poor as it was, this was the only chance for safety; and every day that the decision was postponed was a day gained to their clients.

But no time was given for expostulation. On the day on which Alva's decree was published, the affair was submitted to the decision of the Council of Blood; and on the following morning, the second of June, that body—or rather Vargas and Del Rio, the only members who had a voice in the matter—pronounced both the prisoners guilty of treason, and doomed them to death. The sentence was approved by Alva.

On the evening of the fourth, Alva went in person to the meeting of the council. The sentences of the two lords, each under a sealed envelope, were produced, and read aloud by the secretary. They were both of precisely the same import. After the usual preamble, they pronounced the Counts Egmont and Hoorne to have been proved parties to the abominable league and conspiracy of the prince of Orange and his associates; to have given aid and protection to the confederates; and to have committed sundry malepractices in their respective governments in regard to the sectaries, to the prejudice of the holy Catholic faith. On these grounds they were adjudged guilty of treason and rebellion, and were sentenced accordingly to be beheaded with the sword, their heads to be set upon poles, and there to continue during the pleasure of the duke; their possessions, fiefs, and rights, of every description, to be confiscated to the use of the crown.[1136] These sentences were signed only with the name of Alva, and countersigned with that of the secretary Pratz.[1137]

Such was the result of these famous trials, which, from the peculiar circumstances that attended them, especially their extraordinary duration and the illustrious characters and rank of the accused, became an object of general interest throughout Europe. In reviewing them, the first question that occurs is in regard to the validity of the grounds on which the causes{362} were removed from the jurisdiction of the Toison d'Or. The decision of the "men of authority and learning," referred to by the king, is of little moment considering the influences under which such a decision in the court of Madrid was necessarily given. The only authority of any weight in favor of this interpretation seems to have been that of the president Viglius; a man well versed in the law, with the statutes of the order before him, and, in short, with every facility at his command for forming an accurate judgment in the matter.

His opinion seems to have mainly rested on the fact that, in the year 1473, a knight of the order, charged with a capital crime, submitted to be tried by the ordinary courts of law. But, on the other hand, some years later, in 1490, four knights accused of treason, the precise crime alleged against Egmont and Hoorne, were arraigned and tried before the members of the Toison. A more conclusive argument against Viglius was afforded by the fact, that in 1531 a law was passed, under the Emperor Charles the Fifth, that no knight of the Golden Fleece could be arrested or tried, for any offence whatever, by any other body than the members of his own order. This statute was solemnly confirmed by Philip himself in 1550; and no law, surely, could be devised covering more effectually the whole ground in question. Yet Viglius had the effrontery to set this aside as of no force, being so clearly in contempt of all precedents and statutes. A subterfuge like this, which might justify the disregard of any law whatever, found no favor with the members of the order. Arschot and Barlaimont, in particular, the most devoted adherents of the crown, and among the few knights of the Toison then in Brussels, openly expressed their dissent. The authority of a jurist like Viglius was of great moment, however, to the duke, who did not fail to parade it.[1138] But sorely was it to the disgrace of that timid and time-serving councillor, that he could thus lend himself, and in such a cause, to become the tool of arbitrary power. It may well lead us to give easier faith than we should otherwise have done to those charges of peculation and meanness which the regent, in the heat of party dissensions, so liberally heaped on him.[1139]

But whatever may be thought of the rights possessed by the Toison d'Or in this matter, there can be no doubt as to the illegality of the court before which the cause was brought;—a court which had no warrant for its existence but the will of Alva; where the judges, contrary to the law of the land, were foreigners; where the presiding officer was not even necessarily present at the trial of the causes on which he alone was to pass sentence.

If so little regard was paid to the law in the composition of this tribunal, scarcely more was shown to it in the forms of proceeding. On the present occasion it does not appear that any evidence was brought forward by the prisoners. And as we are in possession of only a small part of that which sustained the prosecution, it is not easy to form an opinion how far the{363} parties were or were not guilty of the crime imputed to them; still less whether that crime, according to the laws of the land, amounted to treason.[1140] The gravest charge made, with any apparent foundation, was that of a secret understanding with the confederates. The avowed object of the confederates was, in certain contingencies, to resist the execution of a particular ordinance;[1141] but without any design to overturn the government. This, by our law, could hardly be construed into treason. But in the Netherlands, in the time of the Spanish rule, the law may have been more comprehensive in its import; nor is it likely that the word "treason" was limited in so explicit a manner as by the English statute-book under the Plantagenets.[1142]

We have information of a curious document of the time, that may throw light on the matter. Peter d'Arset, president of Artois, was one of the original members of the Council of Troubles, but had retired from office before the trial of the two lords. It may have been from the high judicial station he held in one of Egmont's provinces, that he was consulted in regard to that nobleman's process. After an examination of the papers, he returned an answer, written in Latin, at great length, and with a purity of style that shows him to have been a scholar. In this, he goes over the whole ground of the accusation, article by article, showing the insufficiency of proof on every charge, and by argument and legal reference fully establishing the innocence of the accused. The president's opinion, so independently given, we may readily believe, found too little favor with the duke of Alva to be cited as authority.[1143]

But even though it were true that the two lords, in that season of public excitement, had been seduced from their allegiance for a time, some charity might have been shown to men who had subsequently broken with their former friends, and displayed the utmost zeal in carrying out the measures{364} of the government; a zeal in the case of Egmont, at least, which drew from the regent unqualified commendation.[1144] Something more might have been conceded to the man who had won for his sovereign the most glorious trophies of his reign. But Philip's nature, unhappily, as I have had occasion to notice, was of that sort which is more sensible to injuries than to benefits.

Under the circumstances attending this trial, it may seem to have been a waste of time to inquire into the legality of the court which tried the cause, or the regularity of the forms of procedure. The real trial took place, not in Flanders, but in Castile. Who can doubt that, long before the duke of Alva began his march, the doom of the two nobles had been pronounced in the cabinet of Madrid?[1145]

CHAPTER V.

The nobles, each accompanied by two officers, were put into separate chariots. They were guarded by twenty companies of pikemen and arquebusiers; and a detachment of lancers, among whom was a body of the duke's own horse, rode in the van, while another of equal strength protected the rear. Under this strong escort they moved slowly towards Brussels. One night they halted at Dendermonde, and towards evening, on the fourth of the month, entered the capital.[1146] As the martial array defiled through its streets, there was no one, however stout-hearted he might be, says an eye-witness, who{365} could behold the funeral pomp of the procession, and listen to the strains of melancholy music, without a feeling of sickness at his heart.[1147]

The prisoners were at once conducted to the Brodhuys, or "Bread-House," usually known as the Maison du Roi,—that venerable pile in the market-place of Brussels, still visited by every traveller for its curious architecture, and yet more as the last resting-place of the Flemish lords. Here they were lodged in separate rooms, small, dark, and uncomfortable, and scantily provided with furniture. Nearly the whole of the force which had escorted them to Brussels was established in the great square, to defeat any attempt at a rescue. But none was made; and the night passed away without disturbance, except what was occasioned by the sound of busy workmen employed in constructing a scaffold for the scene of execution on the following day.[1148]

On the afternoon of the fourth, the duke of Alva had sent for Martin Rithovius, bishop of Ypres; and, communicating to him the sentence of the nobles, he requested the prelate to visit the prisoners, acquaint them with their fate, and prepare them for their execution on the following day. The bishop, an excellent man, and the personal friend of Egmont, was astounded by the tidings. He threw himself at Alva's feet, imploring mercy for the prisoners, and, if he could not spare their lives, beseeching him at least to grant them more time for preparation. But Alva sternly rebuked the prelate, saying that he had been summoned, not to thwart the execution of the law, but to console the prisoners, and enable them to die like Christians.[1149] The bishop, finding his entreaties useless, rose and addressed himself to his melancholy mission.

It was near midnight when he entered Egmont's apartment, where he found the poor nobleman, whose strength had been already reduced by confinement, and who was wearied by the fatigue of the journey, buried in slumber. It is said that the two lords, when summoned to Brussels, had indulged the vain hope that it was to inform them of the conclusion of their trial and their acquittal![1150] However this may be, Egmont seems to have been but ill prepared for the dreadful tidings he received. He turned deadly pale as he listened to the bishop, and exclaimed, with deep emotion: "It is a terrible sentence. Little did I imagine that any offence I had committed against God or the king could merit such a punishment. It is not death that I fear. Death is the common lot of all. But I shrink from dishonor. Yet I may hope that my sufferings will so far expiate my offences, that my innocent family will not be involved in my ruin by the confiscation of my property. Thus much, at least, I think I may claim in consideration of my past services." Then, after a pause, he added, "Since my death is the will of God and his majesty, I will try to meet it with patience."[1151] He asked the bishop{366} if there were no hope. On being answered, "None whatever," he resolved to devote himself at once to preparing for the solemn change.

He rose from his couch, and hastily dressed himself. He then made his confession to the prelate, and desired that mass might be said, and the sacrament administered to him. This was done with great solemnity; and Egmont received the communion in the most devout manner, manifesting the greatest contrition for his sins. He next inquired of the bishop to what prayer he could best have recourse to sustain him in this trying hour. The prelate recommended to him that prayer which our Saviour had commended to his disciples. The advice pleased the count, who earnestly engaged in his devotions. But a host of tender recollections crowded on his mind; and the images of his wife and children drew his thoughts in another direction, till the kind expostulations of the prelate again restored him to himself.

Egmont asked whether it would be well to say anything on the scaffold for the edification of the people. But the bishop discouraged him, saying that he would be imperfectly heard, and that the people, in their present excitement, would be apt to misinterpret what he said to their own prejudice.

Having attended to his spiritual concerns, Egmont called for writing materials, and wrote a letter to his wife, whom he had not seen during his long confinement; and to her he now bade a tender farewell. He then addressed another letter, written in French, in a few brief and touching sentences, to the king,—which fortunately has been preserved to us. "This morning," he says, "I have been made acquainted with the sentence which it has pleased your majesty to pass upon me. And although it has never been my intent to do aught against the person or the service of your majesty, or against our true, ancient, and Catholic faith, yet I receive in patience what it has pleased God to send me.[1152] If during these troubles I have counselled or permitted aught which might seem otherwise, I have done so from a sincere regard for the service of God and your majesty, and from what I believed the necessity of the times. Wherefore I pray your majesty to pardon it, and for the sake of my past services to take pity on my poor wife, my children, and my servants. In this trust, I commend myself to the mercy of God." The letter is dated Brussels, "on the point of death," June 5, 1568.[1153]