The person who seems to have enjoyed the largest share of Margaret's confidence, at this time, was Egmont. He remained at Brussels, and still kept his seat in council after William had withdrawn to his estates in Breda. Yet the prince, although he had left Brussels in disgust, had not taken part with the confederates; much less—as was falsely rumored, and to his great annoyance—put himself at their head.[711] His brother, it is true, and some of his particular friends, had joined the league. But Louis declares that he did so without the knowledge of William. When the latter, a fortnight afterwards, learned the existence of the league, he expressed his entire disapprobation of it.[712] He even used his authority, we are told, to prevent the confederates{251} from resorting to some violent measures, among others the seizure of Antwerp, promising that he would aid them to accomplish their ends in a more orderly way.[713] What he desired was, to have the states-general called together by the king. But he would not assume a hostile attitude, like that of the confederates, to force him into this unpalatable measure.[714] When convened, he would have had the legislature, without transcending its constitutional limits, remonstrate, and lay the grievances of the nation before the throne.

This temperate mode of proceeding did not suit the hot blood of the younger confederates. "Your brother," writes Hames to Louis, "is too slow and lukewarm. He would have us employ only remonstrance against these hungry wolves; against enemies who do nothing in return but behead, and banish, and burn us. We are to do the talking, and they the acting. We must fight with the pen, while they fight with the sword."[715]

The truth was, that William was not possessed of the fiery zeal which animated most of the Reformers. In his early years, as we have seen, he had been subjected to the influence of the Protestant religion at one period, and of the Roman Catholic at another. If the result of this had been to beget in him something like a philosophical indifference to the great questions in dispute, it had proved eminently favorable to a spirit of toleration. He shrunk from that system of persecution which proscribed men for their religious opinions. Soon after the arrival of the despatches from Segovia, William wrote to a friend: "The king orders, not only obstinate heretics, but even the penitent, to be put to death. I know not how I can endure this. It does not seem to me that such measures are either Christian-like or practicable."[716] In another letter he says: "I greatly fear these despatches will drive men into rebellion. I should be glad, if I could, to save my country from ruin, and so many innocent persons from slaughter. But when I say anything in the council, I am sure to be misinterpreted. So I am greatly perplexed; since speech and silence are equally bad."[717]

Acting with his habitual caution, therefore, he spoke little, and seldom expressed his sentiments in writing. "The less one puts in writing," he said to his less prudent brother, "the better."[718] Yet when the occasion demanded{252} it, he did not shrink from a plain avowal of his sentiments, both in speaking and writing. Such was the speech he delivered in council before Egmont's journey to Spain; and in the same key was the letter which he addressed to the regent on receiving the despatches from Segovia. But, whatever might be his reserve, his real opinions were not misunderstood. He showed them too plainly by his actions. When Philip's final instructions were made known to him by Margaret, the prince, as he had before done under Granvelle, ceased to attend the meetings of the council, and withdrew from Brussels.[719] He met in Breda, and afterwards in Hoogstraten, in the spring of 1566, a number of the principal nobles, under cover, as usual, of a banquet. Discussions took place on the state of the country, and some of the confederates who were present at the former place were for more violent measures than William approved. As he could not bring them over to his own temperate policy, he acquiesced in the draft of a petition, which, as we shall see in the ensuing chapter, was presented to the regent.[720] On the whole, up to the period at which we are arrived, the conduct of the prince of Orange must be allowed to have been wise and consistent. In some respects it forms a contrast to that of his more brilliant rival, Count Egmont.

This nobleman was sincerely devoted to the Roman Catholic faith. He was stanch in his loyalty to the king. At the same time he was ardently attached to his country, and felt a generous indignation at the wrongs she suffered from her rulers. Thus Egmont was acted on by opposite feelings; and, as he was a man of impulse, his conduct, as he yielded sometimes to the one and sometimes to the other of these influences, might be charged with inconsistency. None charged him with insincerity.

There was that in Egmont's character which early led the penetrating Granvelle to point him out to Philip as a man who by politic treatment might be secured to the royal cause.[721] Philip and his sister, the regent, both acted on this hint. They would hardly have attempted as much with William. Egmont's personal vanity made him more accessible to their approaches. It was this, perhaps, quite as much as any feeling of loyalty, which, notwithstanding the affront put on him, as he conceived, by the king, induced him to remain at Brussels, and supply the place in the councils of the regent which William had left vacant. Yet we find one of Granvelle's correspondents speaking of Egmont as too closely united with the lords to be detached from them. "To say truth," says the writer, "he even falters in his religion; and whatever he may say to-day on this point, he will be sure to say the contrary to-morrow."[722] Such a man, who could not be true to himself, could hardly become the leader of others.

"They put Egmont forward," writes the regent's secretary, "as the boldest, to say what other men dare not say."[723] This was after the despatches had{253} been received. "He complains bitterly," continues the writer, "of the king's insincerity. The prince has more finesse. He has also more credit with the nation. If you could gain him, you will secure all."[724] Yet Philip did not try to gain him. With all his wealth, he was not rich enough to do it. He knew this, and he hated William with the hatred which a despotic monarch naturally bears to a vassal of such a temper. He perfectly understood the character of William. The nation understood it too; and, with all their admiration for the generous qualities of Egmont, it was to his greater rival that they looked to guide them in the coming struggle of the revolution.

CHAPTER X.

The winter had passed away, however, and the confederacy had wrought no change in the conduct of the government. Indeed, the existence of the confederacy would not appear to have been known to the regent till the latter part of February, 1566. It was not till the close of the following month that it was formally disclosed to her by some of the great lords.[725] If it was known to her before, Margaret must have thought it prudent to affect ignorance, till some overt action on the part of the league called for her notice.

It became, then, a question with the members of the league what was next to be done. It was finally resolved to present a petition, in the name of the whole body, to the regent, a measure which, as already intimated, received the assent, if not the approbation, of the prince of Orange. The paper was prepared, as it would seem, in William's own house at Brussels, by his brother Louis; and was submitted, we are told, to the revision of the prince, who thus had it in his power to mitigate, in more than one instance the vehemence, or rather violence, of the expressions.[726]{254}

To give greater effect to the petition, it was determined that a large deputation from the league should accompany its presentation to the regent. Notice was given to four hundred of the confederates to assemble at the beginning of April. They were to come well-mounted and armed, prepared at once to proceed to Brussels. Among the number thus enrolled, we find three gentlemen of Margaret's own household, as well as some members of the companies of ordonnance commanded by the prince, and by the Counts Egmont, Hoorne, and other great lords.[727]

The duchess, informed of these proceedings, called a meeting of the council of state and the knights of the Golden Fleece, to determine on the course to be pursued. The discussion was animated, as there was much difference of opinion. Some agreed with Count Barlaimont in regarding the measure in the light of a menace. Such a military array could have no other object than to overawe the government, and was an insult to the regent. In the present excited state of the people, it would be attended with the greatest danger to allow their entrance into the capital.[728]

The prince of Orange, who had yielded to Margaret's earnest entreaties that he would attend this meeting, took a different view of the matter. The number of the delegates, he said, only proved the interest taken in the petition. They were men of rank, some of them kinsmen or personal friends of those present. Their characters and position in the country were sufficient sureties that they meditated no violence to the state. They were the representatives of an ancient order of nobility; and it would be strange indeed, if they were to be excluded from the right of petition, enjoyed by the humblest individual.—In the course of the debate, William made some personal allusions to his own situation, delivering himself with great warmth. His enemies, he said, had the royal ear, and would persuade the king to kill him and confiscate his property.[729] He was even looked upon as the head of the confederacy. It was of no use for him to give his opinion in the council, where it was sure to be misinterpreted. All that remained for him was to ask leave to resign his offices, and withdraw to his estates.[730] Count Hoorne followed in much the same key, inveighing bitterly against the ingratitude of Philip. The two nobles yielded, at length, so far to Margaret's remonstrances, as to give their opinions on the course to be pursued. But when she endeavored to recall them to their duty by reminding them of their oaths to the king, they boldly replied, they would willingly lay down their lives for their country, but would never draw sword for the edicts or the Inquisition.[731]—William's views in regard to the admission of the confederates into Brussels were supported by much the greater part of the assembly, and finally prevailed with the regent.

On the third of April, 1566, two hundred of the confederates entered the gates of Brussels. They were on horseback, and each man was furnished{255} with a brace of pistols in his holsters, wearing in other respects only the usual arms of a private gentleman. The Viscount Brederode and Louis of Nassau rode at their head.[732] They prudently conformed to William's advice, not to bring any foreigners in their train, and to enter the city quietly, without attempting to stir the populace by any military display, or the report of fire-arms.[733] Their coming was welcomed with general joy by the inhabitants, who greeted them as a band of patriots ready to do battle for the liberties of the country. They easily found quarters in the houses of the principal citizens; and Louis and Brederode were lodged in the mansion of the prince of Orange.[734]

On the following day a meeting of the confederates was held at the hotel of Count Culemborg, where they listened to a letter which Brederode had just received from Spain, informing him of the death of Morone, a Flemish nobleman well known to them all, who had perished in the flames of the Inquisition.[735] With feelings exasperated by this gloomy recital, they renewed, in the most solemn manner, their oaths of fidelity to the league. An application was then made to Margaret for leave to lay their petition before her. The day following was assigned for the act; and at noon, on the fifth of April, the whole company walked in solemn procession through the streets of Brussels to the palace of the regent. She received them, surrounded by the lords, in the great hall adjoining the council-chamber. As they defiled before her, the confederates ranged themselves along the sides of the apartment. Margaret seems to have been somewhat disconcerted by the presence of so martial an array within the walls of her palace. But she soon recovered herself, and received them graciously.[736]

Brederode was selected to present the petition, and he prefaced it by a short address. They had come in such numbers, he said, the better to show their respect to the regent, and the deep interest they took in the cause. They had been accused of opening a correspondence with foreign princes, which he affirmed to be a malicious slander, and boldly demanded to be confronted with the authors of it.[737]—Notwithstanding this stout denial, it is very possible the audience did not place implicit confidence in the assertions of the speaker. He then presented the petition to the regent, expressing the hope that she would approve of it, as dictated only by their desire to promote the glory of the king and the good of the country. If this was its object, Margaret replied, she doubted not she should be content with it.[738] The following day was named for them again to wait on her, and receive her answer.

The instrument began with a general statement of the distresses of the land, much like that in the Compromise, but couched in more respectful language. The petitioners had hoped that the action of the great lords, or of the states-general, would have led to some reform. But finding these had not{256} moved in the matter, while the evil went on increasing from day to day, until ruin was at the gate, they had come to beseech her highness to lay the subject herself before the king, and implore his majesty to save the country from perdition by the instant abolition of both the Inquisition and the edicts. Far from wishing to dictate laws to their sovereign, they humbly besought her to urge on him the necessity of convoking the states-general, and devising with them some effectual remedy for the existing evils. Meanwhile they begged of her to suspend the further execution of the laws in regard to religion until his majesty's pleasure could be known. If their prayer were not granted, they at least were absolved from all responsibility as to the consequences, now that they had done their duty as true and loyal subjects.[739]—The business-like character of this document forms a contrast to the declamatory style of the Compromise; and in its temperate tone, particularly, we may fancy we recognize the touches of the more prudent hand of the prince of Orange.

On the sixth, the confederates again assembled in the palace of the regent, to receive her answer. They were in greater force than before, having been joined by a hundred and fifty of their brethren, who had entered the city the night previous, under the command of Counts Culemborg and Berg. They were received by Margaret in the same courteous manner as on the preceding day, and her answer was made to them in writing, being endorsed on their own petition.

She announced in it her purpose of using all her influence with her royal brother to persuade him to accede to their wishes. They might rely on his doing all that was conformable to his natural and accustomed benignity.[740] She had herself, with the advice of her council and the knights of the Golden Fleece, prepared a scheme for moderating the edicts, to be laid before his majesty, which she trusted would satisfy the nation. They must however, be aware, that she herself had no power to suspend the execution of the laws. But she would send instructions to the inquisitors to proceed with all discretion in the exercise of their functions, until they should learn the king's pleasure.[741] She trusted that the confederates would so demean themselves as not to make it necessary to give different orders. All this she had done with the greater readiness, from her conviction that they had no design to make any innovation in the established religion of the country, but desired rather to uphold it in all its vigor.

To this reply, as gracious in its expressions, and as favorable in its import, as the league could possibly have expected, they made a formal answer in writing, which they presented in a body to the duchess, on the eighth of the month. They humbly thanked her for the prompt attention she had given to their petition, but would have been still more contented if her answer had been more full and explicit. They knew the embarrassments under which she labored, and they thanked her for the assurance she had given,—which, it may be remarked, she never did give,—that all proceedings connected with the Inquisition and the edicts should be stayed until his majesty's pleasure should be ascertained. They were most anxious to conform to whatever the king, with the advice and consent of the states-general, duly assembled,{257} should determine in matters of religion,[742] and they would show their obedience by taking such order for their own conduct as should give entire satisfaction to her highness.

To this the duchess briefly replied, that, if there were any cause for offence hereafter, it would be chargeable, not on her, but on them. She prayed the confederates henceforth to desist from their secret practices, and to invite no new member to join their body.[743]

This brief and admonitory reply seems not to have been to the taste of the petitioners, who would willingly have drawn from Margaret some expression that might be construed into a sanction of their proceedings. After a short deliberation among themselves, they again addressed her by the mouth of one of their own number, the lord of Kerdes. The speaker, after again humbly thanking the regent for her favorable answer, said that it would have given still greater satisfaction to his associates, if she would but have declared, in the presence of the great lords assembled, that she took the union of the confederates in good part and for the service of the king;[744] and he concluded with promising that they would henceforth do all in their power to give contentment to her highness.

To all this the duchess simply replied, she had no doubt of it. When again pressed by the persevering deputy to express her opinion of this assembly, she bluntly answered, she could form no judgment in the matter.[745]—She gave pretty clear evidence, however, of her real opinion, soon after, by dismissing the three gentlemen of her household whom we have mentioned as having joined the league.[746]

As Margaret found that the confederates were not altogether satisfied with her response to their petition, she allowed Count Hoogstraten, one of her councillors, to inform some of them, privately, that she had already written to the provinces to have all processes in affairs of religion stayed until Philip's decision should be known. To leave no room for distrust, the count was allowed to show them copies of the letters.[747]

The week spent by the league in Brussels was a season of general jubilee. At one of the banquets given at Culemborg House, where three hundred confederates were present, Brederode presided. During the repast he related to some of the company, who had arrived on the day after the petition was delivered,{258} the manner in which it had been received by the duchess. She seemed at first disconcerted, he said, by the number of the confederates, but was reassured by Barlaimont, who told her "they were nothing but a crowd of beggars."[748] This greatly incensed some of the company,—with whom, probably, it was too true for a jest. But Brederode, taking it more good-humoredly, said that he and his friends had no objection to the name, since they were ready at any time to become beggars for the service of their king and country.[749] This sally was received with great applause by the guests, who, as they drank to one another, shouted forth, "Vivent les Gueux!"—"Long live the beggars!"

Brederode, finding the jest took so well,—an event, indeed, for which he seems to have been prepared,—left the room, and soon returned with a beggar's wallet, and a wooden bowl, such as was used by the mendicant fraternity in the Netherlands. Then, pledging the company in a bumper, he swore to devote his life and fortune to the cause. The wallet and the bowl went round the table; and, as each of the merry guests drank in turn to his confederates, the shout arose of "Vivent les Gueux!" until the hall rang with the mirth of the revellers.[750]

It happened that at the time the prince of Orange and the Counts Egmont and Hoorne were passing by on their way to the council. Their attention was attracted by the noise, and they paused a moment, when William, who knew well the temper of the jovial company, proposed that they should go in, and endeavor to break up their revels. "We may have some business of the council to transact with these men this evening," he said, "and at this rate they will hardly be in a condition for it." The appearance of the three nobles gave a fresh impulse to the boisterous merriment of the company; and as the new-comers pledged their friends in the wine-cup, it was received with the same thundering acclamations of "Vivent les Gueux!"[751] This incident, of so little importance in itself, was afterwards made of consequence by the turn that was given to it in the prosecution of the two unfortunate noblemen who accompanied the prince of Orange.

Every one knows the importance of a popular name to a faction,—a nom de guerre, under which its members may rally and make head together as an independent party. Such the name of "Gueux" now became to the confederates. It soon was understood to signify those who were opposed to the government, and, in a wiser sense, to the Roman Catholic religion. In every language in which the history of these acts has been recorded,—the Latin, German, Spanish, or English,—the French term Gueux is ever employed to designate this party of malecontents in the Netherlands.[752]{259}

It now became common to follow out the original idea by imitations of the different articles used by mendicants. Staffs were procured, after the fashion of those in the hands of the pilgrims, but more elaborately carved. Wooden bowls, spoons, and knives became in great request, though richly inlaid with silver, according to the fancy or wealth of the possessor. Medals resembling those stuck by the beggars in their bonnets were worn as a badge; and the "Gueux penny," as it was called,—a gold or silver coin,—was hung from the neck, bearing on one side the effigy of Philip, with the inscription, "Fidèles au roi;" and on the other, two hands grasping a beggar's wallet, with the further legend, "jusques à porter la besace;"—"Faithful to the king, even to carrying the wallet."[753] Even the garments of the mendicant were affected by the confederates, who used them as a substitute for their family liveries; and troops of their retainers, clad in the ash-gray habiliments of the begging friars, might be seen in the streets of Brussels and the other cities of the Netherlands.[754]

On the tenth of April, the confederates quitted Brussels, in the orderly manner in which they had entered it; except that, on issuing from the gate, they announced their departure by firing a salute in honor of the city which had given them so hospitable a welcome.[755] Their visit to Brussels had not only created a great sensation in the capital itself, but throughout the country. Hitherto the league had worked in darkness, as it were, like a band of secret conspirators. But they had now come forward into the light of day, boldly presenting themselves before the regent, and demanding redress of the wrongs under which the nation was groaning. The people took heart, as they saw this broad ægis extended over them to ward off the assaults of arbitrary power. Their hopes grew stronger, as they became assured of the interposition of the regent and the great lords in their favor; and they could hardly doubt that the voice of the country, backed as it was by that of the government, would make itself heard at Madrid, and that Philip would at length be compelled to abandon a policy which menaced him with the loss of the fairest of his provinces.—They had yet to learn the character of their sovereign.{260}

CHAPTER XI.

On quitting Brussels, the confederates left there four of their number as a sort of committee to watch over the interests of the league. The greater part of the remainder, with Brederode at their head, took the road to Antwerp. They were hardly established in their quarters in that city, when the building was surrounded by thousands of the inhabitants, eager to give their visitors a tumultuous welcome. Brederode came out on the balcony, and, addressing the crowd, told them that he had come there, at the hazard of his life, to rescue them from the miseries of the Inquisition. He called on his audience to take him as their leader in this glorious work; and as the doughty champion pledged them in a goblet of wine which he had brought with him from the table, the mob answered by such a general shout as was heard in the furthest corners of the city.[756] Thus a relation was openly established between the confederates and the people, who were to move forward together in the great march of the revolution.

Soon after the departure of the confederates from Brussels, the regent despatched an embassy to Madrid to acquaint the king with the recent proceedings, and to urge his acquiescence in the reforms solicited by the league. The envoys chosen were the baron de Montigny—who had taken charge, it may be remembered, of a similar mission before—and the marquis of Bergen, a nobleman of liberal principles, but who stood high in the regard of the regent.[757] Neither of the parties showed any alacrity to undertake a commission which was to bring them so closely in contact with the dread monarch in his capital. Bergen found an apology for some time in a wound from a tennis-ball, which disabled his leg; an ominous accident, interpreted by the chroniclers of the time into an intimation from Heaven of the disastrous issue of the mission.[758] Montigny reached Madrid some time before his companion, on the seventeenth of June, and met with a gracious reception from Philip, who listened with a benignant air to the recital of the measures suggested for the relief of the country, terminating, as usual, with an application for a summons of the states-general, as the most effectual remedy for the disorders. But although the envoy was admitted to more than one audience, he obtained no more comfortable assurance, than that the subject should receive the most serious consideration of his majesty.[759]

{261}

Meanwhile the regent was busy in digesting the plan of compromise to which she had alluded in her reply to the confederates. When concluded, it was sent to the governors of the several provinces, to be laid before their respective legislatures. Their sanction, it was hoped, would recommend its adoption to the people at large. It was first submitted to some of the smaller states, as Artois, Namur, and Luxemburg, as most likely to prove subservient to the wishes of the government. It was then laid before several of the larger states, as Brabant and Flanders, whose determination might be influenced by the example of the others. Holland, Zealand, Utrecht, and one or two other provinces, where the spirit of independence was highest, were not consulted at all. Yet this politic management did not entirely succeed; and although some few gave an unconditional assent, most of the provinces coupled their acquiescence with limitations that rendered it of little worth.[760]

This was not extraordinary. The scheme was one which, however large the concessions it involved on the part of the government, fell far short of those demanded by the people. It denounced the penalty of death on all ministers and teachers of the reformed religion, and all who harbored them; and while it greatly mitigated the punishment of other offenders, its few sanguinary features led the people sneeringly to call it, instead of "moderation," the act of "murderation."[761] It fared, indeed, with this compromise of the regent, as with most other half-way measures. It satisfied neither of the parties concerned in it. The king thought it as much too lenient as the people thought it too severe. It never received the royal sanction, and of course never became a law. It would therefore hardly have deserved the time I have bestowed on it, except as evidence of the conciliatory spirit of the regent's administration.

In the same spirit Margaret was careful to urge the royal officers to give a liberal interpretation to the existing edicts, and to show the utmost discretion in their execution. These functionaries were not slow in obeying commands, which released them from so much of the odium that attached to their ungrateful office. The amiable temper of the government received support from a singular fraud which took place at this time. An instrument was prepared, purporting to have come from the knights of the Golden Fleece, in which this body guarantied to the confederates that no one in the Low Countries should be molested on account of his religion until otherwise determined by the king and the states-general. This document, which carried its spurious origin on its face, was nevertheless eagerly caught up and circulated among the people, ready to believe what they most desired. In vain the regent, as soon as she heard of it, endeavored to expose the fraud. It was too late; and the influence of this imposture combined with the tolerant measures of the government to inspire a confidence in the community which was soon visible in its results. Some who had gone into exile returned to their country. Many, who had cherished the new doctrines in secret, openly avowed them; while others who were wavering, now that they were relieved from all fear of consequences, became fixed in their opinions. In short, the Reformation, in some form or other, was making rapid advances over the country.[762]

Of the three great sects who embraced it, the Lutherans, the least numerous, were the most eminent for their rank. The Anabaptists, far exceeding{262} them in number, were drawn almost wholly from the humbler classes of the people. It is singular that this sect, the most quiet and inoffensive of all, should have been uniformly dealt with by the law with peculiar rigor. It may, perhaps, be attributed to the bad name which attached to them from the excesses committed by their brethren, the famous Anabaptists of Münster. The third denomination, the Calvinists, far out-numbered both of the other two. They were also the most active in the spirit of proselytism. They were stimulated by missionaries trained in the schools of Geneva; and as their doctrines spread silently over the land, not only men of piety and learning, but persons of the highest social position, were occasionally drawn within the folds of the sect.

The head-quarters of the Calvinists were in Flanders, Hainault, Artois, and the provinces contiguous to France. The border land became the residence of French Huguenots, and of banished Flemings, who on this outpost diligently labored in the cause of the Reformation. The press teemed with publications,—vindications of the faith, polemical tracts, treatises, and satires against the Church of Rome and its errors,—those spiritual missiles, in short, which form the usual magazine for controversial warfare. These were distributed by means of peddlers and travelling tinkers, who carried them, in their distant wanderings, to the humblest firesides throughout the country. There they were left to do their work; and the ground was thus prepared for the laborers whose advent forms an epoch in the history of the Reformation.[763]

These were the ministers or missionaries, whose public preaching soon caused a great sensation throughout the land. They first made their appearance in Western Flanders, before small audiences gathered together stealthily in the gloom of the forest and in the silence of night. They gradually emerged into the open plains, thence proceeding to the villages, until, growing bolder with impunity, they showed themselves in the suburbs of the great towns and cities. On these occasions, thousands of the inhabitants, men, women, and children, in too great force for the magistrates to resist them, poured out of the gates to hear the preacher. In the centre of the ground a rude staging was erected, with an awning to protect him from the weather. Immediately round the rude pulpit was gathered the more helpless part of the congregation, the women and children. Behind them stood the men,—those in the outer circle usually furnished with arms,—swords, pikes, muskets,—any weapon they could pick up for the occasion. A patrol of horse occupied the ground beyond, to protect the assembly and prevent interruption. A barricade of wagons and other vehicles was thrown across the avenues that led to the place, to defend it against the assaults of the magistrates or the military. Persons stationed along the high roads distributed religious tracts, and invited the passengers to take part in the services.[764]

The preacher was frequently some converted priest or friar, accustomed to speak in public, who, having passed the greater part of his life in battling for the Church, now showed equal zeal in overturning it. It might be, however, that the orator was a layman; some peasant or artisan, who, gifted with more wit, or possibly more effrontery, than his neighbors, felt himself called on to assume the perilous vocation of a preacher. The discourse was in French or Flemish, whichever might be the language spoken in the neighborhood. It{263} was generally of the homely texture suited both to the speaker and his audience. Yet sometimes he descanted on the woes of the land with a pathos which drew tears from every eye; and at others gave vent to a torrent of fiery eloquence, that kindled the spirit of the ancient martyr in the bosoms of his hearers.

These lofty flights were too often degraded by coarse and scurrilous invectives against the pope, the clergy, and the Inquisition,—themes, peculiarly grateful to his audience, who testified their applause by as noisy demonstrations as if they had been spectators in a theatre. The service was followed by singing some portion of the Psalms in the French version of Marot, or in a Dutch translation which had recently appeared in Holland,[765] and which, although sufficiently rude, passed with the simple people for a wonderful composition. After this, it was common for those who attended to present their infants for baptism; and many couples profited by the occasion to have the marriage ceremony performed with the Calvinistic rites. The exercises were concluded by a collection for the poor of their own denomination. In fine, these meetings, notwithstanding the occasional licence of the preacher, seem to have been conducted with a seriousness and decorum which hardly merit the obloquy thrown on them by some of the Catholic writers.

The congregation, it is true, was made up of rather motley materials. Some went out merely to learn what manner of doctrine it was that was taught; others, to hear the singing, where thousands of voices blended together in rude harmony under the canopy of heaven; others, again, with no better motive than amusement, to laugh at the oddity—perhaps the buffoonery—of the preacher. But far the larger portion of the audience went with the purpose of joining in the religious exercises, and worshipping God in their own way.[766] We may imagine what an influence must have been exercised by these meetings, where so many were gathered together, under a sense of common danger, to listen to the words of the teacher, who taught them to hold all human law as light in comparison with the higher law of conscience seated in their own bosoms. Even of those who came to scoff, few there were, probably, who did not go away with some food for meditation, or, it may be, the seeds of future conversion implanted in their breasts.

The first of these public preachings—which began as early as May—took place in the neighborhood of Ghent. Between six and seven thousand persons were assembled. A magistrate of the city, with more valor than discretion, mounted his horse, and, armed with sword and pistol, rode in among the multitude, and undertook to arrest the minister. But the people hastened to his rescue, and dealt so roughly with the unfortunate officer, that he barely escaped with life from their hands.[767]

From Ghent the preachings extended to Ypres, Bruges, and other great towns of Flanders,—always in the suburbs,—to Valenciennes, and to Tournay, in the province of Hainault, where the Reformers were strong enough to demand a place of worship within the walls. Holland was ready for the Word. Ministers of the new religion, as it was called, were sent both to that quarter and to Zealand. Gatherings of great multitudes were held in the environs of Amsterdam, the Hague, Haarlem, and other large towns, at which the magistrates were sometimes to be found mingled with the rest of the burghers.

But the place where these meetings were conducted on the greatest scale was Antwerp, a city containing then more than a hundred thousand inhabitants, and the most important mart for commerce in the Netherlands. It{264} was the great resort of foreigners. Many of these were Huguenots, who, under the pretext of trade, were much more busy with the concerns of their religion. At the meetings without the walls, it was not uncommon for thirteen or fourteen thousand persons to assemble.[768] Resistance on the part of the magistrates was ineffectual. The mob got possession of the keys of the city; and, as most of the Calvinists were armed, they constituted a formidable force. Conscious of their strength, they openly escorted their ministers back to town, and loudly demanded that some place of worship should be appropriated to them within the walls of Antwerp. The quiet burghers became alarmed. As it was known that in the camp of the Reformers were many reckless and disorderly persons, they feared the town might be given over to pillage. All trade ceased. Many of the merchants secreted their effects, and some prepared to make their escape as speedily as possible.[769]

The magistrates, in great confusion, applied to the regent, and besought her to transfer her residence to Antwerp, where her presence might overawe the spirit of sedition. But Margaret's council objected to her placing herself in the hands of so factious a population; and she answered the magistrates by inquiring what guaranty they could give her for her personal safety. They then requested that the prince of Orange, who held the office of burgrave of Antwerp, and whose influence with the people was unbounded, might be sent to them. Margaret hesitated as to this; for she had now learned to regard William with distrust, as assuming more and more an unfriendly attitude towards her brother.[770] But she had no alternative, and she requested him to transfer his residence to the disorderly capital, and endeavor to restore it to tranquillity. The prince, on the other hand, disgusted with the course of public affairs, had long wished to withdraw from any share in their management. It was with reluctance he accepted the commission.