The duchess informed the king of the troubles that had arisen with the nobles; charging Orange and Egmont, especially, as the source of them. She accused them of maliciously circulating rumors that the cardinal had advised Philip to invade the country with an armed force, and to cut off the heads of some five or six of the principal malecontents.[540] She paid a high tribute to the minister's loyalty, and his talent for business; and she besought the king{209} to disabuse Montigny in respect to the common idea of a design to introduce the Spanish Inquisition into the country, and to do violence to its institutions.

The war was now openly proclaimed between the cardinal and the nobles. Whatever decorum might be preserved in their intercourse, there was no longer any doubt as to the hostile attitude in which they were hereafter to stand in respect to each other. In a letter written a short time previous to that of the regent, the cardinal gives a brief view of his situation to the king. The letter is written in the courageous spirit of one who does not shrink from the dangers that menace him. After an observation intimating no great confidence in the orthodoxy of the prince of Orange, he remarks: "Though the prince shows me a friendly face, when absent he is full of discontent. They have formed a league against me," he continues, "and threaten my life. But I have little fear on that score, as I think they are much too wise to attempt any such thing. They complain of my excluding them from office, and endeavoring to secure an absolute authority for your majesty. All which they repeat openly at their banquets, with no good effect on the people. Yet never were there governors of the provinces who possessed so much power as they have, or who had all appointments more completely in their own hands. In truth, their great object is to reduce your majesty and the regent to the condition of mere ciphers in the government."

"They refuse to come to my table," he adds, "at which I smile. I find guests enough in the gentry of the country, the magistrates, and even the worthy burghers of the city, whose good-will it is well to conciliate against a day of trouble. These evils I bear with patience, as I can. For adversity is sent by the Almighty, who will recompense those who suffer for religion and justice." The cardinal was fond of regarding himself in the light of a martyr.

He concludes this curious epistle with beseeching the king to come soon to the Netherlands; "to come well attended, and with plenty of money; since, thus provided, he will have no lack of troops, if required to act abroad, while his presence will serve to calm the troubled spirits at home."[541] The politic minister says nothing of the use that might be made of these troops at home. Such an intimation would justify the charges already brought against him. He might safely leave his master to make that application for himself.

In December, 1562, Montigny returned from his mission, and straightway made his report to the council of state. He enlarged on the solicitude which Philip had shown for the interests of the country. Nothing had been further from his mind than to introduce into it the Spanish Inquisition. He was only anxious to exterminate the growing heresy from the land, and called on those in authority to aid in the good work with all their strength. Finally, though pressed by want of funds, he promised, so soon as he could settle his affairs in Spain, to return to Flanders.—It was not unusual for Philip to hold out the idea of his speedy return to the country. The king's gracious reception seems to have had some effect on Montigny. At all events, he placed a degree of confidence in the royal professions, in which the sceptical temper of William was far from acquiescing. He intimated as much to his friend, and the latter, not relishing the part of a dupe, which the prince's language seemed to assign to him, retorted in an angry manner; and something like altercation took place between the two lords, in the presence of the duchess.{210} At least, such is the report of the historians.[542] But historians in a season of faction are not the best authorities. In the troubles before us we have usually a safer guide in the correspondence of the actors.

By Montigny despatches were also brought from Philip for the duchess of Parma. They contained suggestions as to her policy in reference to the factious nobles, whom the king recommended to her, if possible, to divide by sowing the seeds of jealousy among them.[543] Egmont was a stanch Catholic, loyal in his disposition, ambitious, and vain. It would not be difficult to detach him from his associates by a show of preference, which, while it flattered his vanity, would excite in them jealousy and distrust.

In former times there had been something of these feelings betwixt Egmont and the prince of Orange. At least there had been estrangement. This might, in some degree, be referred to the contrast in their characters. Certainly no two characters could be more strongly contrasted with each other. Egmont, frank, fiery, impulsive in his temper, had little in common with the cool, cautious, and calculating William. The showy qualities of the former, lying on the surface, more readily caught the popular eye. There was a depth in William's character not easy to be fathomed,—an habitual reserve, which made it difficult even for those who knew him best always to read him right. Yet the coolness between these two nobles may have arisen less from difference of character than from similarity of position. Both, by their rank and services, took the foremost ground in public estimation, so that it was scarcely possible they should not jostle each other in the career of ambition. But however divided formerly, they were now too closely united by the pressure of external circumstances to be separated by the subtle policy of Philip. Under the influence of a common disgust with the administration and its arbitrary measures, they continued to act in concert together, and, in their union, derived benefit from the very opposition of their characters. For what better augury of success than that afforded by the union of wisdom in council with boldness in execution?

The consequences of the troubles in France, as had been foreseen, were soon visible in the Low Countries. The Protestants of that time constituted a sort of federative republic, or rather a great secret association, extending through the different parts of Europe, but so closely linked together that a blow struck in one quarter instantly vibrated to every other. The Calvinists in the border provinces of the Low Countries felt, in particular, great sympathy with the movements of their French brethren. Many Huguenots took shelter among them. Others came to propagate their doctrines. Tracts in the French tongue were distributed and read with avidity. Preachers harangued in the conventicles; and the people, by hundreds and thousands, openly assembled, and, marching in procession, chanted the Psalms of David in the translation of Marot.[544]

This open defiance of the edicts called for the immediate interposition of the government. At Tournay two Calvinist preachers were arrested, and, after a regular trial, condemned and burned at the stake. In Valenciennes two others were seized, in like manner, tried, and sentenced to the same terrible punishment. But as the marquis of Bergen, the governor of the province,{211} had left the place on a visit to a distant quarter, the execution was postponed till his return. Seven months thus passed, when the regent wrote to the marquis, remonstrating on his unseasonable absence from his post. He had the spirit to answer, that "it neither suited his station nor his character to play the part of an executioner."[545] The marquis of Bergen had early ranged himself on the side of the prince of Orange, and he is repeatedly noticed by Granvelle, in his letters, as the most active of the malecontents. It may well be believed he was no friend to the system of persecution pursued by the government. Urged by Granvelle, the magistrates of the city at length assumed the office of conducting the execution themselves. On the day appointed, the two martyrs were escorted to the stake. The funeral pile was prepared, and the torch was about to be applied, when, at a signal from one of the prisoners, the multitude around broke in upon the place of execution, trampled down the guards and officers of justice, scattered the fagots collected for the sacrifice, and liberated the victims. Then, throwing themselves into a procession, they paraded the streets of the city, singing their psalms and Calvinistic hymns.

Meanwhile the officers of justice succeeded in again arresting the unfortunate men, and carrying them back to prison. But it was not long before their friends, assembling in greater numbers than before, stormed the fortress, forced the gates, and, rescuing the prisoners, carried them off in triumph.

These high-handed measures caused, as may be supposed, great indignation at the court of the regent. She instantly ordered a levy of three thousand troops, and, placing them under the marquis of Bergen, sent them against the insurgents. The force was such as to overcome all resistance. Arrests were made in great numbers, and the majesty of the law was vindicated by the trial and punishment of the ringleaders.[546]

"Rigorous and severe measures," wrote Philip, "are the only ones to be employed in matters of religion. It is by fear only that the rabble"—meaning by this the Reformers—"can be made to do their duty, and not always then."[547] This liberal sentiment found less favor in the Low Countries than in Spain. "One must ponder well," writes the cardinal to Perez, the royal secretary, "before issuing those absolute decrees, which are by no means as implicitly received here as they are in Italy."[548] The Fleming appealed to his laws, and, with all the minister's zeal, it was found impossible to move forward at the fiery pace of the Spanish Inquisition.

"It would raise a tumult at once," he writes, "should we venture to arrest a man without the clearest evidence. No man can be proceeded against without legal proof."[549] But an insurmountable obstacle in the way of enforcing the cruel edicts lay in the feelings of the nation. No law repugnant to such feelings can long be executed. "I accuse none of the nobles of being heretics," writes the regent to her brother; "but they show little zeal in the cause of religion, while the magistrates shrink from their duty from fear of the people."[550]{212} "How absurd is it," exclaims Granvelle, "for depositions to be taken before the Inquisition in Spain, in order to search out heretics in Antwerp, where thousands are every day walking about whom no one meddles with!"[551] "It is more than a year," he says, "since a single arrest on a charge of heresy has taken place in that city."[552] Yet whatever may have been the state of persecution at the present time, the vague dread of the future must have taken strong hold of people's minds, if, as a contemporary writes, there were no less than eighteen or twenty thousand refugees then in England, who had fled from Flanders for the sake of their religion.[553]

The odium of this persecution all fell on the head of Granvelle. He was the tool of Spain. Spain was under the yoke of the Inquisition. Therefore it was clearly the minister's design to establish the Spanish Inquisition over the Netherlands. Such was the concise logic by which people connected the name of Granvelle with that of the most dreaded of tribunals.[554] He was held responsible for the contrivance of the most unpopular measures of government, as well as for their execution. A thousand extravagant stories were circulated both of his private and his political life, which it is probably doing no injustice to the nobles to suppose they did not take much pains to correct. The favorite of the prince is rarely the favorite of the people. But no minister had ever been so unpopular as Granvelle in the Netherlands. He was hated by the nobles for his sudden elevation to power, and for the servile means, as they thought, by which he had risen to it. The people hated him, because he used that power for the ruin of their liberties. No administration—none certainly, if we except that of the iron Alva—was more odious to the nation.

Notwithstanding Granvelle's constancy, and the countenance he received from the regent and a few of the leading councillors, it was hard to bear up under this load of obloquy. He would gladly have had the king return to the country, and sustain him by his presence. It is the burden of his correspondence at this period. "It is a common notion here," he writes to the secretary, Perez, "that they are all ready in Spain to sacrifice the Low Countries. The lords talk so freely, that every moment I fear an insurrection.... For God's sake, persuade the king to come, or it will lie heavy on his conscience."[555] The minister complains to the secretary that he seems to be entirely abandoned by the government at home. "It is three months," he writes, "since I have received a letter from the court. We know as little of Spain here as of the Indies. Such delays are dangerous, and may cost the king dear."[556]—It is clear his majesty exercised his royal prerogative of having the correspondence all on one side. At least his own share in it, at this period, was small, and his letters were concise indeed in comparison with the{213} voluminous epistles of his minister. Perhaps there was some policy in this silence of the monarch. His opinions, nay, his wishes, would have, to some extent, the weight of laws. He would not, therefore, willingly commit himself. He preferred to conform to his natural tendency to trust to the course of events, instead of disturbing them by too precipitate action. The cognomen by which Philip is recognized on the roll of Castilian princes is "the Prudent."

CHAPTER VII.

Even Granvelle, with all his equanimity, considered the crisis so grave as to demand some concession, or at least a show of it, on his own part, to conciliate the good-will of his enemies. He authorized the duchess to say that he was perfectly willing that they should be summoned to the consulta, and to absent himself from its meetings; indeed, to resign the administration altogether, provided the king approved of it.[557] Whether Margaret communicated this to the nobles does not appear; at all events, as nothing came of these magnanimous concessions of the minister, they had no power to soothe the irritation of his enemies.[558]

On the contrary, the disaffected lords were bending their efforts to consolidate their league, of which Granvelle, it may be recollected, noticed the existence in a letter of the preceding year. We now find the members binding themselves to each other by an oath of secrecy.[559] The persons who{214} formed this confederacy were the governors of the provinces, the knights of the Golden Fleece, and, in short, most of the aristocracy of any consideration in the country. It seemed impossible that any minister could stand against such a coalition, resting, moreover, on the sympathies of the people. This formidable association, seeing that all attempts to work on the cardinal were ineffectual, resolved at length to apply directly to the king for his removal. They stated that, knowing the heavy cares which pressed on his majesty, they had long dissembled and kept silence, rather than aggravate these cares by their complaints. If they now broke this silence, it was from a sense of duty to the king, and to save the country from ruin. They enlarged on the lamentable condition of affairs, which, without specifying any particular charges, they imputed altogether to the cardinal, or rather to the position in which he stood in reference to the nation. It was impossible, they said, that the business of the country could prosper, where the minister who directed it was held in such general detestation by the people. They earnestly implored the king to take immediate measures for removing an evil which menaced the speedy ruin of the land. And they concluded with begging that they might be allowed to resign their seats in the council of state, where, in the existing state of affairs, their presence could be of no service.—This letter, dated the eleventh of March, 1563, was signed, on behalf of the coalition, by three lords who had places in the council of state,—the prince of Orange, Count Egmont, and Count Hoorne.[560]

The last nobleman was of an ancient and most honorable lineage. He held the high office of admiral of the Netherlands, and had been governor both of Zütphen and of Gueldres. He accompanied Philip to Spain, and during his absence the province of Gueldres was transferred to another, Count Megen, for which Hoorne considered that he was indebted to the good offices of the cardinal. On his return to his own country, he at once enrolled himself in the ranks of the opposition. He was a man of indisputable bravery, of a quick and impatient temper; one, on the whole, who seems to have been less indebted for his celebrity to his character, than to the peculiar circumstances in which he was placed.

On the day previous to this despatch of the nobles, we find a letter to the king from Granvelle, who does not seem to have been ignorant of what was doing by the lords. He had expostulated with them, he tells Philip, on the disloyalty of their conduct in thus banding against the government,—a proceeding which in other times might have subjected them to a legal prosecution.[561] He mentions no one by name except Egmont, whom he commends as more tractable and open to reason than his confederates. He was led away by evil counsellors, and Granvelle expresses the hope that he will one day open his eyes to his errors, and return to his allegiance.

It is difficult to conceive the detestation, he goes on to say, in which the Spaniards are held by the nation. The Spaniards only, it was everywhere said, were regarded by the court of Madrid as the lawful children; the Flemings, as illegitimate.[562] It was necessary to do away this impression to place the Flemings on the same footing with the Spaniards; to give them{215} lucrative appointments, for they greatly needed them, in Spain or in Italy; and it might not be amiss to bestow the viceroyalty of Sicily on the prince of Orange.—Thus, by the same act, the politic minister would both reward his rivals and remove them from the country. But he greatly misunderstood the character of William, if he thought in this way to buy him off from the opposition.

It was four months before the confederates received an answer; during which time affairs continued to wear the same gloomy aspect as before. At length came the long-expected epistle from the monarch, dated on the sixth of June. It was a brief one. Philip thanked the lords for their zeal and devotion to his service. After well considering the matter, however, he had not found any specific ground of complaint alleged, to account for the advice given him to part with his minister. The king hoped before long to visit the Low Countries in person. Meanwhile, he should be glad to see any one of the nobles in Spain, to learn from him the whole state of the affair; as it was not his wont to condemn his ministers without knowing the grounds on which they were accused.[563]

The fact that the lords had not specified any particular subject of complaint against the cardinal gave the king an obvious advantage in the correspondence. It seemed to be too much to expect his immediate dismissal of the minister, on the vague pretext of his unpopularity, without a single instance of misconduct being alleged against him. Yet this was the position in which the enemies of Granvelle necessarily found themselves. The minister acted by the orders of the king. To have assailed the minister's acts, therefore, would have been to attack the king himself. Egmont, some time after this, with even more frankness than usual, is said to have declared at table to a friend of the cardinal, that "the blow was aimed not so much at the minister as at the monarch."[564]

The discontent of the lords at receiving this laconic epistle may be imagined. They were indignant that so little account should be made of their representations, and that both they and the country should be sacrificed to the king's partiality for his minister. The three lords waited on the regent, and extorted from her a reluctant consent to assemble the knights of the order, and to confer with them and the other nobles as to the course to be taken.

It was there decided that the lords should address a second letter, in the name of the whole body, to Philip, and henceforth should cease to attend the council of state.[565]

In this letter, which bears the date of July the twenty-ninth, they express their disappointment that his majesty had not come to a more definite resolution, when prompt and decisive measures could alone save the country from ruin. They excuse themselves from visiting Spain in the critical state of affairs at home. At another time, and for any other purpose, did the king desire it, they would willingly do so. But it was not their design to appear as accusers, and institute a process against the minister. They had hoped their own word in such an affair would have sufficed with his majesty. It{216} was not the question whether the minister was to be condemned, but whether he was to be removed from an office for which he was in no respect qualified.[566] They had hoped their attachment and tried fidelity to the crown would have made it superfluous for them to go into a specification of charges. These, indeed, could be easily made, but the discontent and disorder which now reigned throughout the country were sufficient evidence of the minister's incapacity.[567]

They stated that they had acquainted the regent with their intention to absent themselves in future from the council, where their presence could be no longer useful; and they trusted this would receive his majesty's sanction. They expressed their determination loyally and truly to discharge every trust reposed in them by the government; and they concluded by apologizing for the homely language of their epistle,—for they were no haranguers or orators, but men accustomed to act rather than to talk, as was suited to persons of their quality.[568]—This last shaft was doubtless aimed at the cardinal.—The letter was signed by the same triumvirate as the former. The abstract here given does no justice to the document, which is of considerable length, and carefully written. The language is that of men who to the habitual exercise of authority united a feeling of self-respect, which challenged the respect of their opponents. Such were not the men to be cajoled or easily intimidated. It was the first time that Philip had been addressed in this lofty tone by his great vassals. It should have opened his eyes to the condition and the character of his subjects in the Netherlands.

The coalition drew up, at the same time, an elaborate "remonstrance," which they presented to Margaret. In it they set forth the various disorders of the country, especially those growing out of the state of religion and the embarrassment of the finances. The only remedy for these evils is to be found in a meeting of the states-general. The king's prohibition of this measure must have proceeded, no doubt, from the evil counsels of persons hostile to the true interests of the nation. As their services can be of little use while they are thus debarred from a resort to their true and only remedy in their embarrassments, they trust the regent will not take it amiss, that, so long as the present policy is pursued, they decline to take their seats in the council of state, to be merely shadows there, as they have been for the last four years.[569]

From this period the malecontent lords no more appeared in council. The perplexity of Margaret was great. Thus abandoned by the nobles in whom the country had the greatest confidence, she was left alone, as it were, with the man whom the country held in the greatest abhorrence. She had long seen with alarm the storm gathering round the devoted head of the minister. To attempt alone to uphold his falling fortunes would be probably to bury herself in their ruins. In her extremity, she appealed to the confederates, and, since she could not divide them, endeavored to divert them from their{217} opposition. They, on the other hand, besought the regent no longer to connect herself with the desperate cause of a minister so odious to the country. Possibly they infused into her mind some suspicions of the subordinate part she was made to play, through the overweening ambition of the cardinal. At all events, an obvious change took place in her conduct, and while she deferred less and less to Granvelle, she entered into more friendly relations with his enemies. This was especially the case with Egmont, whose frank and courteous hearing and loyal disposition seem to have won greatly on the esteem of the duchess.

Satisfied, at last, that it would be impracticable to maintain the government much longer on its present basis, Margaret resolved to write to her brother on the subject, and at the same time to send her confidential secretary, Armenteros, to Spain, to acquaint the king with the precise state of affairs in the Netherlands.[570]

After enlarging on the disorders and difficulties of the country, the duchess came to the quarrel between the cardinal and the nobles. She had made every effort to reconcile the parties; but that was impossible. She was fully sensible of the merits of Granvelle, his high capacity, his experience in public affairs, his devotion to the interests both of the king and of religion.[571] But, on the other hand, to maintain him in the Netherlands, in opposition to the will of the nobles, was to expose the country, not merely to great embarrassments, but to the danger of insurrection.[572] The obligations of the high place which she occupied compelled her to lay the true state of the case before the king, and he would determine the course to be pursued.—With this letter, bearing the date of August twelfth, and fortified with ample instructions from the duchess, Armenteros was forthwith despatched on his mission to Spain.

It was not long before the state of feeling in the cabinet of Brussels was known, or at least surmised, throughout the country. It was the interest of some of the parties that it should not be kept secret. The cardinal, thus abandoned by his friends, became a more conspicuous mark for the shafts of his enemies. Libels, satires, pasquinades, were launched against him from every quarter. Such fugitive pieces, like the insect which dies when it has left its sting, usually perish with the occasion that gives them birth. But some have survived to the present day, or at least were in existence at the close of the last century, and are much commended by a critic for the merits of their literary execution.[573]

It was the custom, at the period of our narrative, for the young people to meet in the towns and villages, and celebrate what were called "academic games," consisting of rhetorical discussions on the various topics of the day, sometimes of a theological or a political character. Public affairs furnished a fruitful theme at this crisis; and the cardinal, in particular, was often roughly handled. It was in vain the government tried to curb this licence. It only served to stimulate the disputants to new displays of raillery and ridicule.[574]{218}

Granvelle, it will be readily believed, was not slow to perceive his loss of credit with the regent, and the more intimate relations into which she had entered with his enemies. But whatever he may have felt, he was too proud or too politic to betray his mortification to the duchess. Thus discredited by all but an insignificant party, who were branded as the "Cardinalists," losing influence daily with the regent, at open war with the nobles, and hated by the people, never was there a minister in so forlorn a situation, or one who was able to maintain his post a day in such circumstances. Yet Granvelle did not lose heart; as others failed him, he relied the more on himself; and the courage which he displayed, when thus left alone, as it were, to face the anger of the nation, might have well commanded the respect of his enemies. He made no mean concession to secure the support of the nobles, or to recover the favor of the regent. He did not shrink from the dangers or the responsibilities of his station; though the latter, at least, bore heavily on him. Speaking of the incessant pressure of his cares, he writes to his correspondent, Perez, "My hairs have turned so white you would not recognize me."[575] He was then but forty-six. On one occasion, indeed, we do find him telling the king, that, "if his majesty does not soon come to the Netherlands, he must withdraw from them."[576] This seems to have been a sudden burst of feeling, as it was a solitary one, forced from him by the extremity of his situation. It was much more in character that he wrote afterwards to the secretary, Perez: "I am so beset with dangers on every side, that most people give me up for lost. But I mean to live as long, by the grace of God, as I can; and if they do take away my life, I trust they will not gain everything for all that."[577] He nowhere intimates a wish to be recalled. Nor would his ambition allow him to resign the helm; but the fiercer the tempest raged, the more closely did he cling to the wreck of his fortunes.

The arrival of Armenteros with the despatches, and the tidings that he brought, caused a great sensation in the court of Madrid. "We are on the eve of a terrible conflagration," writes one of the secretaries of Philip; "and they greatly err who think it will pass away as formerly." He expresses the wish that Granvelle would retire from the country, where, he predicts, they would soon wish his return. "But ambition," he adds, "and the point of honor are alike opposed to this. Nor does the king desire it."[578]

Yet it was not easy to say what the king did desire,—certainly not what course he would pursue. He felt a natural reluctance to abandon the minister, whose greatest error seemed to be that of too implicit an obedience to his master's commands. He declared he would rather risk the loss of the Netherlands than abandon him.[579] Yet how was that minister to be maintained in his place, in opposition to the will of the nation? In this perplexity, Philip applied for counsel to the man in whom he most confided,—the{219} duke of Alva; the very worst counsellor possible in the present emergency.

The duke's answer was eminently characteristic of the man. "When I read the letters of these lords," he says, "I am so filled with rage, that, did I not make an effort to suppress it, my language would appear to you that of a madman."[580] After this temperate exordium, he recommends the king on no account to remove Granvelle from the administration of the Netherlands. "It is a thing of course," he says, "that the cardinal should be the first victim. A rebellion against the prince naturally begins with an attack on his ministers. It would be better," he continues, "if all could be brought at once to summary justice. Since that cannot be, it may be best to divide the nobles; to win over Egmont and those who follow him by favors; to show displeasure to those who are the least offenders. For the greater ones, who deserve to lose their heads, your majesty will do well to dissemble, until you can give them their deserts."[581]

Part of this advice the king accepted; for to dissemble did no violence to his nature. But the more he reflected on the matter, the more he was satisfied that it would be impossible to retain the obnoxious minister in his place. Yet when he had come to this decision, he still shrunk from announcing it. Months passed, and yet Armenteros, who was to carry back the royal despatches, was still detained at Madrid. It seemed as if Philip here, as on other occasions of less moment, was prepared to leave events to take their own course, rather than direct them himself.

Early in January, 1564, the duchess of Parma admonished her brother that the lords chafed much under his long silence. It was a common opinion, she said, that he cared little for Flanders, and that he was under the influence of evil counsellors, who would persuade him to deal with the country as a conquered province. She besought him to answer the letter of the nobles, and especially to write in affectionate terms to Count Egmont, who well deserved this for the zeal he had always shown for his sovereign's interests.[582]

One is struck with the tone in which the regent here speaks of one of the leaders of the opposition, so little in unison with her former language. It shows how completely she was now under their influence. In truth, however, we see constantly, both in her letters and those of the cardinal, a more friendly tone of feeling towards Egmont than to either of his associates. On the score of orthodoxy in matters of religion he was unimpeachable. His cordial manners, his free and genial temper, secured the sympathy of all with whom he came in contact. It was a common opinion, that it would not be difficult to detach him from the party of malecontents with whom his lot was cast. Such were not the notions entertained of the prince of Orange.

In a letter from Granvelle to Philip, without a date, but written perhaps about this period,[583] we have portraits, or rather outlines, of the two great{220} leaders of the opposition, touched with a masterly hand. Egmont he describes as firm in his faith, loyally disposed, but under the evil influence of William. It would not be difficult to win him over by flattery and favors.[584] The prince, on the other hand, is a cunning and dangerous enemy, of profound views, boundless ambition, difficult to change, and impossible to control.[585] In the latter character we see the true leader of the revolution.

Disgusted with the indifference of the king, shown in his long-protracted silence, the nobles, notwithstanding the regent's remonstrances, sent orders to their courier, who had been waiting in Madrid for the royal despatches, to wait no longer, but return without them to the Netherlands.[586] Fortunately Philip now moved, and at the close of January, 1564, sent back Armenteros with his instructions to Brussels. The most important of them was a letter of dismissal to the cardinal himself. It was very short. "On considering what you write," said the king, "I deem it best that you should leave the Low Countries for some days, and go to Burgundy to see your mother, with the consent of the duchess of Parma. In this way, both my authority and your own reputation will be preserved."[587]

It has been a matter of dispute how far the resignation of the cardinal was voluntary. The recent discovery of this letter of Philip determines that question.[588] It was by command of the sovereign. Yet that command was extorted by necessity, and so given as best to save the feelings and the credit of the minister. Neither party anticipated that Granvelle's absence would continue for a long time, much less that his dismissal was final. Even when inditing the letter to the cardinal, Philip cherished the hope that the necessity for his departure might be avoided altogether. This appears from the despatches sent at the same time to the regent.

Shortly after his note to Granvelle, on the nineteenth of February, Philip{221} wrote an answer to the lords in all the tone of offended majesty. He expressed his astonishment that they should have been led, by any motive whatever, to vacate their seats at the council, where he had placed them.[589] They would not fail to return there at once, and show that they preferred the public weal to all private considerations.[590] As for the removal of the minister, since they had not been pleased to specify any charges against him, the king would deliberate further before deciding on the matter. Thus, three weeks after Philip had given the cardinal his dismissal, did he write to his enemies as if the matter were still in abeyance; hoping, it would seem, by the haughty tone of authority, to rebuke the spirit of the refractory nobles, and intimidate them into a compliance with his commands. Should this policy succeed, the cardinal might still hold the helm of government.[591]

But Philip had not yet learned that he was dealing with men who had little of that spirit of subserviency to which he was accustomed in his Castilian vassals. The peremptory tone of his letter fired the blood of the Flemish lords, who at once waited on the regent, and announced their purpose not to reënter the council. The affair was not likely to end here; and Margaret saw with alarm the commotion that would be raised when the letter of the king should be laid before the whole body of the nobles.[592] Fearing some rash step, difficult to be retrieved, she resolved either that the cardinal should announce his intended departure, or that she would do so for him. Philip's experiment had failed. Nothing, therefore, remained but for the minister publicly to declare, that, as his brother, the late envoy to France, had returned to Brussels, he had obtained permission from the regent to accompany him on a visit to their aged mother, whom Granvelle had not seen for fourteen years.[593]{222}

The news of the minister's resignation and speedy departure spread like wildfire over the country. The joy was universal; and the wits of the time redoubled their activity, assailing the fallen minister with libels, lampoons, and caricatures, without end. One of these caricatures, thrust into his own hand under the pretence of its being a petition, represented him as hatching a brood of young bishops, who were crawling out of their shells. Hovering above might be seen the figure of the Devil; while these words were profanely made to issue from his month: "This is my son; hear ye him!"[594]

It was at this time that, at a banquet at which many of the Flemish nobles were present, the talk fell on the expensive habits of the aristocracy, especially as shown in the number and dress of their domestics. It was the custom for them to wear showy and very costly liveries, intimating by the colors the family to which they belonged. Granvelle had set an example of this kind of ostentation. It was proposed to regulate their apparel by a more modest and uniform standard. The lot fell on Egmont to devise some suitable livery, of the simple kind used by the Germans. He proposed a dark-gray habit, which, instead of the aiguillettes commonly suspended from the shoulders, should have flat pieces of cloth, embroidered with the figure of a head and a fool's cap. The head was made marvellously like that of the cardinal, and the cap, being red, was thought to bear much resemblance to a cardinal's hat. This was enough. The dress was received with acclamation. The nobles instantly clad their retainers in the new livery, which had the advantage of greater economy. It became the badge of party. The tailors of Brussels could not find time to supply their customers. Instead of being confined to Granvelle, the heads occasionally bore the features of Arschot, Aremberg, or Viglius, the cardinal's friends. The duchess at first laughed at the jest, and even sent some specimens of the embroidery to Philip. But Granvelle looked more gravely on the matter, declaring it an insult to the government, and the king interfered to have the device given up. This was not easy, from the extent to which it had been adopted. But Margaret at length succeeded in persuading the lords to take another, not personal in its nature. The substitute was a sheaf of arrows. Even this was found to have an offensive application, as it intimated the league of the nobles. It was the origin, it is said, of the device afterwards assumed by the Seven United Provinces.[595]