The tidings of the outbreak fell heavily on the ears of the court of Brussels,{279} where the regent, notwithstanding her prediction of the event, was not any the better prepared for it. She at once called her counsellors together and demanded their aid in defending the religion of the country against its enemies. But the prince of Orange and his friends discouraged a resort to violent measures, as little likely to prevail in the present temper of the people. "First," said Egmont, "let us provide for the security of the state. It will be time enough then to think of religion." "No," said Margaret, warmly; "the service of God demands our first care; for the ruin of religion would be a greater evil than the loss of the country."[825] "Those who have anything to lose in it," replied the count, somewhat coolly, "will probably be of a different opinion,"[826]—an answer that greatly displeased the duchess.

Rumors now came thick on one another of the outrages committed by the image-breakers. Fears were entertained that their next move would be on the capital itself. Hitherto the presence of the regent had preserved Brussels, notwithstanding some transient demonstrations among the people, from the spirit of reform which had convulsed the rest of the country. No public meetings had been held either in the city or the suburbs; for Margaret had declared she would hang up, not only the preacher, but all those who attended him.[827] The menace had its effect. Thus keeping aloof from the general movement of the time, the capital was looked on with an evil eye by the surrounding country; and reports were rife, that the iconoclasts were preparing to march in such force on the place, as should enable them to deal with it as they had done with Antwerp and the other cities of Brabant.

The question now arose as to the course to be pursued in the present exigency. The prince of Orange and his friends earnestly advised that Margaret should secure the aid of the confederates by the concessions they had so strenuously demanded; in the next place, that she should conciliate the Protestants by consenting to their religious meetings. To the former she made no objection. But the latter she peremptorily refused. "It would be the ruin of our holy religion," she said. It was in vain they urged, that two hundred thousand sectaries were in arms; that they were already in possession of the churches; that, if she persisted in her refusal, they would soon be in Brussels, and massacre every priest and Roman Catholic before her eyes![828] Notwithstanding this glowing picture of the horrors in store for her, Margaret remained inflexible. But her agitation was excessive: she felt herself alone in her extremity. The party of Granvelle she had long since abandoned. The party of Orange seemed now ready to abandon her. "I am pressed by enemies within and without," she wrote to Philip; "there is no one on whom I can rely for counsel or for aid."[829] Distrust and anxiety brought on a fever, and for several days and nights she lay tossing about, suffering equally from distress of body and anguish of spirit.[830]{280}

Thus sorely perplexed, Margaret felt also the most serious apprehensions for her personal safety. With the slight means of defence at her command, Brussels seemed no longer a safe residence, and she finally came to the resolution to extricate herself from the danger and difficulties of her situation by a precipitate flight. After a brief consultation with Barlaimont, Arschot, and others of the party opposed to the prince of Orange, and hitherto little in her confidence, she determined to abandon the capital, and seek a refuge in Mons,—a strong town in Hainault, belonging to the duke of Arschot, which, from its sturdy attachment to the Romish faith, had little to fear from the fanatics.

Having completed her preparations with the greatest secrecy, on the day fixed for her flight Margaret called her council together to communicate her design. It met with the most decided opposition, not merely from the lords with whom she had hitherto acted, but from the president Viglius. They all united in endeavoring to turn her from a measure which would plainly intimate such a want of confidence on the part of the duchess as must dishonor them in the eyes of the world. The preparations for Margaret's flight had not been conducted so secretly but that some rumor of them had taken wind; and the magistrates of the city now waited on her in a body, and besought her not to leave them, defenceless as they were, to the mercy of their enemies.

The prince was heard to say, that, if the regent thus abandoned the government, it would be necessary to call the states-general together at once, to take measures for the protection of the country.[831] And Egmont declared that, if she fled to Mons, he would muster forty thousand men, and besiege Mons in person.[832] The threat was not a vain one, for no man in the country could have gathered such a force under his banner more easily than Egmont. The question seems to have been finally settled by the magistrates causing the gates of the town to be secured, and a strong guard placed over them, with orders to allow no passage either to the duchess or her followers.—Thus a prisoner in her own capital, Margaret conformed to necessity, and, with the best grace she could, consented to relinquish her scheme of departure.[833]

The question now recurred as to the course to be pursued; and the more she pondered on the embarrassments of her position, the more she became satisfied that no means of extricating herself remained but that proposed by the nobles. Yet, in thus yielding to necessity, she did so protesting that she was acting under compulsion.[834] On the twenty-third of August, Margaret executed an instrument, by which she engaged that no harm should come to the members of the league for anything hitherto done by them. She further authorized the lords to announce to the confederates her consent to the religious meetings of the Reformed, in places where they had been hitherto{281} held, until his majesty and the states-general should otherwise determine. It was on the condition, however, that they should go there unarmed, and nowhere offer disturbance to the Catholics.

On the twenty-fifth of the month the confederate nobles signed an agreement on their part and solemnly swore that they would aid the regent to the utmost in suppressing the disorders of the country, and in bringing their authors to justice; agreeing, moreover, that, so long as the regent should be true to the compact, the league should be considered as null and void.[835]

The feelings of Margaret, in making the concessions required of her, may be gathered from the perusal of her private correspondence with her brother. No act in her public life ever caused her so deep a mortification; and she never forgave the authors of it. "It was forced upon me," she writes to Philip; "but, happily, you will not be bound by it." And she beseeches him to come at once, in such strength as would enable him to conquer the country for himself, or to give her the means of doing so.[836]—Margaret, in early life, had been placed in the hands of Ignatius Loyola. More than one passage in her history proves that the lessons of the Jesuit had not been thrown away.

During these discussions the panic had been such, that it was thought advisable to strengthen the garrison under command of Count Mansfeldt, and keep the greater part of the citizens under arms day and night. When this arrangement was concluded, the great lords dispersed on their mission to restore order in their several governments. The prince went first to Antwerp, where, as we have seen, he held the office of burgrave. He made strict investigation into the causes of the late tumult, hung three of the ringleaders, and banished three others. He found it, however, no easy matter to come to terms with the sectaries, who had possession of all the churches, from which they had driven the Catholics. After long negotiation, it was arranged that they should be allowed to hold six, and should resign the rest to the ancient possessors. The arrangement gave general satisfaction, and the principal citizens and merchants congratulated William on having rescued them from the evils of anarchy.

Not so the regent. She knew well that the example of Antwerp would become a precedent for the rest of the country. She denounced the compact, as compromising the interests of Catholicism, and openly accused the prince of having transcended his powers, and betrayed the trust reposed in him. Finally, she wrote, commanding him at once to revoke his concessions.

William, in answer, explained to her the grounds on which they had been made, and their absolute necessity, in order to save the city from anarchy. It is a strong argument in his favor, that the Protestants, who already claimed the prince as one of their own sect, accused him, in this instance, of sacrificing their cause to that of their enemies; and caricatures of him were made, representing him with open hands and a double face.[837] William, while thus explaining his conduct, did not conceal his indignation at the charges brought against him by the regent, and renewed his request for leave to resign his offices, since he no longer enjoyed her confidence. But whatever disgust she may have felt at his present conduct, William's services were too important to Margaret in this crisis to allow her to dispense with them; and she made{282} haste to write to him in a conciliatory tone, explaining away as far as possible what had been offensive in her former letters. Yet from this hour the consciousness of mutual distrust raised a barrier between the parties never to be overcome.[838]

William next proceeded to his governments of Utrecht and Holland, which, by a similar course of measures to that pursued at Antwerp, he soon restored to order. While in Utrecht, he presented to the states of the province a memorial, in which he briefly reviewed the condition of the country. He urged the necessity of religious toleration, as demanded by the spirit of the age, and as particularly necessary in a country like that, the resort of so many foreigners, and inhabited by sects of such various denominations. He concluded by recommending them to lay a petition to that effect before the throne,—not, probably, from any belief that such a petition would be heeded by the monarch, but from the effect it would have in strengthening the principles of religious freedom in his countrymen. William's memorial is altogether a remarkable paper for the time, and in the wise and liberal tenor of its arguments strikingly contrasts with the intolerant spirit of the court of Madrid.[839]

The regent proved correct in her prediction that the example of Antwerp would be made a precedent for the country. William's friends, the Counts Hoorne and Hoogstraten, employed the same means for conciliating the sectaries in their own governments. It was otherwise with Egmont. He was too stanch a Catholic at heart to approve of such concessions. He carried matters, therefore, with a high hand in his provinces of Flanders and Artois, where his personal authority was unbounded. He made a severe scrutiny into the causes of the late tumult, and dealt with its authors so sternly, as to provoke a general complaint among the reformed party, some of whom, indeed, became so far alarmed for their own safety, that they left the provinces and went beyond sea.

Order now seemed to be reëstablished in the land, through the efforts of the nobles, aided by the confederates, who seem to have faithfully executed their part of the compact with the regent. The Protestants took possession of the churches assigned to them, or busied themselves with raising others on the ground before reserved for their meetings. All joined in the good work; the men laboring at the building, the women giving their jewels and ornaments to defray the cost of the materials. A calm succeeded,—a temporary lull after the hurricane; and Lutheran and Calvinist again indulged in the pleasing illusion, that, however distasteful it might be to the government, they were at length secure of the blessings of religious toleration.

During the occurrence of these events a great change had taken place in the relations of parties. The Catholic members of the league, who had proposed nothing beyond the reform of certain glaring abuses, and, least of all, anything prejudicial to their own religion, were startled as they saw the inevitable result of the course they were pursuing. Several of them, as we have seen, had left the league before the outbreak of the iconoclasts; and after that event, but very few remained in it. The confederates, on the other hand, lost ground with the people, who looked with distrust on their late arrangement with the regent, in which they had so well provided for their own security. The confidence of the people was not restored by the ready aid which their old allies seemed willing to afford the great nobles in bringing{283} to justice the authors of the recent disorders.[840] Thus deserted by many of its own members, distrusted by the Reformers, and detested by the regent, the league ceased from that period to exert any considerable influence on the affairs of the country.

A change equally important had taken place in the politics of the court. The main object with Margaret, from the first, had been to secure the public tranquillity. To effect this she had more than once so far deferred to the judgment of William and his friends, as to pursue a policy not the most welcome to herself. But it had never been her thought to extend that policy to the point of religious toleration. So far from it, she declared that, even though the king should admit two religions in the state, she would rather be torn in pieces than consent to it.[841] It was not till the coalition of the nobles, that her eyes were opened to the path she was treading. The subsequent outrages of the iconoclasts made her comprehend she was on the verge of a precipice. The concessions wrung from her, at that time, by Orange and his friends, filled up the measure of her indignation. A great gulf now opened between her and the party by whom she had been so long directed. Yet where could she turn for support? One course only remained; and it was with a bitter feeling that she felt constrained to throw herself into the arms of the very party which she had almost estranged from her counsels. In her extremity she sent for the president Viglius, on whose head she had poured out so many anathemas in her correspondence with Philip,—whom she had not hesitated to charge with the grossest peculation.

Margaret sent for the old councillor, and, with tears in her eyes, demanded his advice in the present exigency. The president naturally expressed his surprise at this mark of confidence from one who had so carefully excluded him from her counsels for the last two years. Margaret, after some acknowledgment of her mistake, intimated a hope that this would be no impediment to his giving her the counsel she now so much needed. Viglius answered by inquiring whether she were prepared faithfully to carry out what she knew to be the will of the king. On Margaret's replying in the affirmative, he recommended that she should put the same question to each member of her cabinet. "Their answers," said the old statesman, "will show you whom you are to trust." The question—the touchstone of loyalty—was accordingly put; and the minister, who relates the anecdote himself, tells us that three only, Mansfeldt, Barlaimont, and Arschot, were prepared to stand by the regent in carrying out the policy of the crown. From that hour the regent's confidence was transferred from the party with which she had hitherto acted, to their rivals.[842]{284}

It is amusing to trace the change of Margaret's sentiments in her correspondence of this period with her brother. "Orange and Hoorne prove themselves, by word and by deed, enemies of God and the king."[843] Of Egmont she speaks no better. "With all his protestations of loyalty," she fears he is only plotting mischief to the state. "He has openly joined the Gueux, and his eldest daughter is reported to be a Huguenot."[844] Her great concern is for the safety of Viglius, "almost paralyzed by his fears, as the people actually threaten to tear him in pieces."[845] The factious lords conduct affairs according to their own pleasure in the council; and it is understood they are negotiating at the present moment to bring about a collision between the Protestants of Germany, France, and England, hoping in the end to drive the house of Austria from the throne, to shake off the yoke of Spain from the Netherlands, and divide the provinces among themselves and their friends![846] Margaret's credulity seems to have been in proportion to her hatred, and her hatred in proportion to her former friendship. So it was in her quarrel with Granvelle, and she now dealt the same measure to the men who had succeeded that minister in her confidence.

The prince of Orange cared little for the regent's estrangement. He had long felt that his own path lay wide asunder from that of the government, and, as we have seen, had more than once asked leave to resign his offices, and withdraw into private life. Hoorne viewed the matter with equal indifference. He had also asked leave to retire, complaining that his services had been poorly requited by the government. He was a man of a bold, impatient temper. In a letter to Philip he told him that it was not the regent, but his majesty, of whom he complained, for compelling him to undergo the annoyance of dancing attendance at the court of Brussels![847] He further added, that he had not discussed his conduct with the duchess, as it was not his way to treat of affairs of honor with ladies![848] There was certainly no want of plain-dealing in this communication with majesty.

Count Egmont took the coolness of the regent in a very different manner. It touched his honor, perhaps his vanity, to be thus excluded from her confidence. He felt it the more keenly as he was so loyal at heart, and strongly attached to the Romish faith. On the other hand, his generous nature was deeply sensible to the wrongs of his countrymen. Thus drawn in opposite directions, he took the middle course,—by no means the safest in politics. Under these opposite influences he remained in a state of dangerous irresolution. His sympathy with the cause of the confederates lost him the confidence of the government. His loyalty to the government excluded him from the councils of the confederates. And thus, though perhaps the most popular{285} man in the Netherlands, there was no one who possessed less real influence in public affairs.[849]

The tidings of the tumults in the Netherlands, which travelled with the usual expedition of evil news, caused as great consternation at the court of Castile as it had done at that of Brussels. Philip, on receiving his despatches, burst forth, it is said, into the most violent fit of anger, and, tearing his beard, he exclaimed, "It shall cost them dear; by the soul of my father I swear it, it shall cost them dear!"[850] The anecdote, often repeated, rests on the authority of Granvelle's correspondent, Morillon. If it be true, it affords a solitary exception to the habitual self-command—displayed in circumstances quite as trying—of the "prudent" monarch. The account given by Hopper, who was with the court at the time, is the more probable of the two. According to that minister, the king, when he received the tidings, lay ill of a tertian fever at Segovia. As letter after letter came to him with particulars of the tumult, he maintained his usual serenity, exhibiting no sign of passion or vexation. Though enfeebled by his malady, he allowed himself no repose, but gave unremitting attention to business.[851] He read all the despatches; made careful notes of their contents, sending such information as he deemed best to his council, for their consideration; and, as his health mended, occasionally attended in person the discussions of that body.

One can feel but little doubt as to the light in which the proceedings in the Netherlands were regarded by the royal council of Castile. Yet it did not throw the whole, or even the chief blame, on the iconoclasts. They were regarded as mere tools in the hands of the sectaries. The sectaries, on their part, were, it was said, moved by the confederates, on whom they leaned for protection. The confederates, in their turn, made common cause with the great lords, to whom many of them were bound by the closest ties of friendship and of blood. By this ingenious chain of reasoning, all were made responsible for the acts of violence; but the chief responsibility lay on the heads of the great nobles, on whom all in the last resort depended. It was against them that the public indignation should be directed, not against the meaner offenders, over whom alone the sword of justice had been hitherto suspended. But the king should dissemble his sentiments until he was in condition to call these great vassals to account for their misdeeds. All joined in beseeching Philip to defer no longer his visit to Flanders; and most of them recommended that he should go in such force as to look down opposition, and crush the rebellion in its birth.

Such was the counsel of Alva, in conformity with that which he had always given on the subject. But although all concurred in urging the king to expedite his departure, some of the councillors followed the prince of Eboli in advising Philip that, instead of this warlike panoply, he should go in peaceable{286} guise, accompanied only by such a retinue as befitted the royal dignity. Each of the great rivals recommended the measures most congenial with his own temper, the direction of which would no doubt be intrusted to the man who recommended them. It is not strange that the more violent course should have found favor with the majority.[852]

Philip's own decision he kept, as usual, locked in his own bosom. He wrote indeed to his sister, warning her not to allow the meeting of the legislature, and announcing his speedy coming,—all as usual; and he added, that, in repressing the disorders of the country, he should use no other means than those of gentleness and kindness, under the sanction of the states.[853] These gentle professions weighed little with those who, like the prince of Orange, had surer means of arriving at the king's intent than what were afforded by the royal correspondence. Montigny, the Flemish envoy, was still in Madrid, held there, sorely against his will, in a sort of honorable captivity by Philip. In a letter to his brother, Count Hoorne, he wrote: "Nothing can be in worse odor than our affairs at the court of Castile. The great lords, in particular, are considered as the source of all the mischief. Violent counsels are altogether in the ascendant, and the storm may burst on you sooner than you think. Nothing remains but to fly from it like a prudent man, or to face it like a brave one!"[854]

William had other sources of intelligence, the secret agents whom he kept in pay at Madrid. From them he learned, not only what was passing at the court, but in the very cabinet of the monarch; and extracts, sometimes full copies, of the correspondence of Philip and Margaret, were transmitted to the prince. Thus the secrets which the most jealous prince in Europe supposed to be locked in his own breast were often in possession of his enemies; and William, as we are told, declared that there was no word of Philip's, public or private, but was reported to his ears![855]

This secret intelligence, on which the prince expended large sums of money, was not confined to Madrid. He maintained a similar system of espionage in Paris, where the court of Castile was busy with its intrigues for{287} the extermination of heresy. Those who look on these trickish proceedings as unworthy of the character of the prince of Orange and the position which he held, should consider that it was in accordance with the spirit of the age. It was but turning Philip's own arts against himself, and using the only means by which William could hope to penetrate the dark and unscrupulous policy of a cabinet whose chief aim, as he thought, was to subvert the liberties of his country.

It was at this time that his agents in France intercepted a letter from Alava, the Spanish minister at the French court. It was addressed to the duchess of Parma. Among other things, the writer says it is well understood at Madrid, that the great nobles are at the bottom of the troubles of Flanders. The king is levying a strong force, with which he will soon visit the country, and call the three lords to a heavy reckoning. In the mean time the duchess must be on her guard not by any change in her deportment to betray her consciousness of this intent.[856]

Thus admonished from various quarters, the prince felt that it was no longer safe for him to remain in his present position; and that in the words of Montigny, he must be prepared to fight or to fly. He resolved to take counsel with some of those friends who were similarly situated with himself. In a communication made to Egmont in order to persuade him to a conference, William speaks of Philip's military preparations as equally to be dreaded by Catholic and Protestant; for under the pretext of religion, Philip had no other object in view than to enslave the nation. "This has been always feared by us," he adds;[857] "and I cannot stay to witness the ruin of my country."

The parties met at Dendermonde on the third of October. Besides the two friends and Count Hoorne, there were William's brother, Louis, and a few other persons of consideration. Little is actually known of the proceedings at this conference, notwithstanding the efforts of more than one officious chronicler to enlighten us. Their contradictory accounts, like so many cross lights on his path, serve only to perplex the eye of the student. It seems probable, however, that the nobles generally, including the prince, considered the time had arrived for active measures; and that any armed intrusion on the part of Philip into the Netherlands should be resisted by force. But Egmont, with all his causes of discontent, was too loyal at heart not to shrink from the attitude of rebellion. He had a larger stake than most of the company, in a numerous family of children, who, in case of a disastrous revolution, would be thrown helpless on the world. The benignity with which he had been received by Philip on his mission to Spain, and which subsequent slights had not effaced from his memory, made him confide, most unhappily, in the favorable dispositions of the monarch. From whatever motives, the count refused to become a party to any scheme of resistance; and as his popularity with the troops made his coöperation of the last importance, the conference broke up without coming to a determination.[858]{288}

Egmont at once repaired to Brussels, whither he had been summoned by the regent to attend the council of state. Orange and Hoorne received, each, a similar summons, to which neither of them paid any regard. Before taking his seat at the board, Egmont showed the duchess Alava's letter, upbraiding her, at the same time, with her perfidious conduct towards the nobles. Margaret, who seems to have given way to temper or to tears, as the exigency demanded, broke forth into a rage, declaring it "an impudent forgery, and the greatest piece of villany in the world!"[859] The same sentiment she repeats in a letter addressed soon after to her brother, in which she asserts her belief that no such letter as that imputed to Alava had ever been written by him. How far the duchess was honest in her declaration it is impossible at this day to determine. Egmont, after passing to other matters, concludes with a remark which shows, plainly enough, his own opinion of her sincerity. "In fine, she is a woman educated in Rome. There is no faith to be given to her."[860]

In her communication above noticed Margaret took occasion to complain to Philip of his carelessness in regard to her letters. The contents of them, she said, were known in Flanders almost as soon as at Madrid; and not only copies, but the original autographs, were circulating in Brussels. She concludes by begging her brother, if he cannot keep her letters safe, to burn them.[861]

The king, in answer, expresses his surprise at her complaints, assuring Margaret that it is impossible any one can have seen her letters, which are safely locked up, with the key in his own pocket.[862] It is amusing to see Philip's incredulity in regard to the practice of those arts on himself which he had so often practised on others. His sister, however, seems to have relied henceforth more on her own precautions than on his, as we find her communications from this time frequently shrouded in cipher.

Rumors of Philip's warlike preparations were now rife in the Netherlands; and the Protestants began to take counsel as to the best means of providing for their own defence. One plan suggested was to send thirty thousand Calvinistic tracts to Seville for distribution among the Spaniards.[863] This would raise a good crop of heresy, and give the king work to do in his own dominions. It would, in short, be carrying the war into the enemy's country. The plan, it must be owned, had the merit of novelty.

{289}

In Holland the nobles and merchants mutually bound themselves to stand by one another in asserting the right of freedom of conscience.[864] Levies went forward briskly in Germany, under the direction of Count Louis of Nassau. It was attempted, moreover, to interest the Protestant princes of that country so far in the fate of their brethren in the Netherlands as to induce them to use their good offices with Philip to dissuade him from violent measures. The emperor had already offered privately his own mediation to the king, to bring about, if possible, a better understanding with his Flemish subjects.[865] The offer made in so friendly a spirit, though warmly commended by some of the council, seems to have found no favor in the eyes of their master.[866]

The princes of Germany who had embraced the Reformation were Lutherans. They had almost as little sympathy with the Calvinists as with the Catholics. Men of liberal minds in the Netherlands, like William and his brother, would gladly have seen the two great Protestant parties which divided their country united on some common basis. They would have had them, in short, in a true Christian spirit, seek out the points on which they could agree rather than those on which they differed,—points of difference which, in William's estimation, were after all of minor importance. He was desirous that the Calvinists should adopt a confession of faith accommodated in some degree to the "Confession of Augsburg,"—a step which would greatly promote their interests with the princes of Germany.[867]

But the Calvinists were altogether the dominant party in the Low Countries. They were thoroughly organized, and held their consistories, composed of a senate and a sort of lower house, in many of the great towns, all subordinate to the great consistory at Antwerp. They formed, in short, what the historian well calls an independent Protestant republic.[868] Strong in their power, sturdy in their principles, they refused to bend in any degree to circumstances, or to make any concession, or any compromise with the weaker party. The German princes, disgusted with this conduct, showed no disposition to take any active measures in their behalf, and, although they made some efforts in favor of the Lutherans, left their Calvinistic brethren in the Netherlands to their fate.

It was generally understood, at this time, that the prince of Orange had embraced Lutheran opinions. His wife's uncle, the landgrave of Hesse, pressed him publicly to avow his belief. To this the prince objected, that he should thus become the open enemy of the Catholics, and probably lose his influence with the Calvinists, already too well disposed to acts of violence.[869] Yet not long after we find William inquiring of the landgrave if it would not be well to advise the king, in terms as little offensive as possible, of his change of religion, asking the royal permission at the same time, to conform his worship to it.[870]

William's father had been a Lutheran, and in that faith had lived and died. In that faith he had educated his son. When only eleven years old, the latter,{290} as we have seen, was received into the imperial household. The plastic mind of boyhood readily took its impressions from those around, and without much difficulty, or indeed examination, William conformed to the creed fashionable at the court of Castile. In this faith—if so it should be called—the prince remained during the lifetime of the emperor. Then came the troubles of the Netherlands; and William's mind yielded to other influences. He saw the workings of Catholicism under a terrible aspect. He beheld his countrymen dragged from their firesides, driven into exile, thrown into dungeons, burned at the stake; and all this for no other cause than dissent from the dogmas of the Romish Church. His soul sickened at these enormities, and his indignation kindled at this invasion of the inalienable right of private judgment. Thus deeply interested for the oppressed Protestants, it was natural that William should feel a sympathy for their cause. His wife too was of the Lutheran persuasion. So was his mother, still surviving. So were his brothers and sisters, and indeed all those nearest akin to him. Under these influences, public and domestic, it was not strange, that he should have been led to review the grounds of his own belief; that he should have gradually turned to the faith of his parents,—the faith in which he had been nurtured in childhood.[871] At what precise period the change in his opinions took place we are not informed. But his letter to the landgrave of Hesse, in November, 1566, affords, so far as I am aware, the earliest evidence that exists, under his own hand, that he had embraced the doctrines of the Reformation.

CHAPTER XIII.

The excesses of the iconoclasts, like most excesses, recoiled on the heads of those who committed them. The Roman Catholic members of the league withdrew, as we have seen, from an association which connected them, however remotely, with deeds so atrocious. Other Catholics, who had looked with no unfriendly eye on the revolution, now that they saw it was to go forward over the ruins of their religion, were only eager to show their detestation of it, and their loyalty to the government. The Lutherans, who, as already noticed, had never moved in much harmony with the Calvinists, were anxious to throw the whole blame of the excesses on the rival sect; and thus the breach, growing wider and wider between the two great divisions of the Protestants, worked infinite prejudice to the common cause of reform. Lastly, men like Egmont, who from patriotic motives had been led to dally{291} with the revolution in its infancy, seeming indeed almost ready to embrace it, now turned coldly away, and hastened to make their peace with the regent.

Margaret felt the accession of strength she was daily deriving from these divisions of her enemies, and she was not slow to profit by it. As she had no longer confidence in those on whom she had hitherto relied for support, she was now obliged to rely more exclusively on herself. She was indefatigable in her application to business. "I know not," writes her secretary, Armenteros, "how the regent contrives to live, amidst the disgusts and difficulties which incessantly beset her. For some months she has risen before dawn. Every morning and evening, sometimes oftener, she calls her council together. The rest of the day and night she is occupied with giving audiences, or with receiving despatches and letters, or in answering them."[872]

Margaret now bent all her efforts to retrace the humiliating path into which she had been led, and to reëstablish the fallen authority of the crown. If she did not actually revoke the concessions wrung from her, she was careful to define them so narrowly that they should be of little service to any one. She wrote to the governors of the provinces, that her license for public preaching was to be taken literally, and was by no means intended to cover the performance of other religious rites, as those of baptism, marriage, and burial, which she understood were freely practised by the reformed ministers. She published an edict reciting the terrible penalties of the law against all offenders in this way, and she enjoined the authorities to enforce the execution of it to the letter.[873]

The Protestants loudly complained of what they termed a most perfidious policy on the part of the regent. The right of public preaching, they said, naturally included that of performing the other religious ceremonies of the Reformed Church. It was a cruel mockery to allow men to profess a religion, and yet not to practise the rites which belong to it.—The construction given by Margaret to her edict must be admitted to savor somewhat of the spirit of that given by Portia to Shylock's contract. The pound of flesh might indeed be taken; but if so much as a drop of blood followed, woe to him that took it!

This measure was succeeded by others on the part of the government of a still more decisive character. Instead of the civil magistracy, Margaret now showed her purpose to call in the aid of a strong military force to execute the laws. She ordered into the country the levies lately raised for her in Germany. These she augmented by a number of Walloon regiments; and she placed them under the command of Aremberg, Megen, and other leaders in whom she confided. She did not even omit the prince of Orange, for though Margaret had but little confidence in William, she did not care to break with him. To the provincial governors she wrote to strengthen themselves as much as possible by additional recruits; and she ordered them to introduce garrisons into such places as had shown favor to the new doctrines.

The province of Hainault was that which gave the greatest uneasiness to the regent. The spirit of independence was proverbially high amongst the people; and the neighborhood of France gave easy access to the Huguenot ministers, who reaped an abundant harvest in the great towns of that district. The flourishing commercial city of Valenciennes was particularly{292} tainted with heresy. Margaret ordered Philip de Noircarmes, governor of Hainault, to secure the obedience of the place by throwing into it a garrison of three companies of horse and as many of foot.

When the regent's will was announced to the people of Valenciennes, it met at first with no opposition. But among the ministers in the town was a Frenchman named La Grange, a bold enthusiast, gifted with a stirring eloquence, which gave him immense ascendancy over the masses. This man told the people, that to receive a garrison would be the death-blow to their liberties, and that those of the reformed religion would be the first victims. Thus warned, the citizens were now even more unanimous in refusing a garrison than they had before been in their consent to admit one. Noircarmes, though much surprised by this sudden change, gave the inhabitants some days to consider the matter before placing themselves in open resistance to the government. The magistrates and some of the principal persons in the town were willing to obey his requisition, and besought La Grange to prevail on the people to consent to it. "I would rather," replied the high-spirited preacher, "that my tongue should cleave to the roof of my mouth, and that I should become dumb as a fish, than open my lips to persuade the people to consent to so cruel and outrageous an act."[874] Finding the inhabitants still obstinate, the general, by Margaret's orders, proclaimed the city to be in a state of rebellion,—proscribed the persons of the citizens as traitors to their sovereign, and confiscated their property. At the same time, active preparations were begun for laying siege to the place, and proclamation was made in the regent's name prohibiting the people of the Netherlands from affording any aid, by counsel, arms, or money, to the rebellious city, under the penalties incurred by treason.

But the inhabitants of Valenciennes, sustained by the promises of their preacher, were nothing daunted by these measures, nor by the formidable show of troops which Noircarmes was assembling under their walls. Their town was strongly situated, tolerably well victualled for a siege, and filled with a population of hardy burghers devoted to the cause, whose spirits were raised by the exhortations of the consistories in the neighboring provinces to be of good courage, as their brethren would speedily come to their relief.

The high-handed measures of the government caused great consternation through the country, especially amongst those of the reformed religion. A brisk correspondence went on between the members of the league and the consistories. Large sums were raised by the merchants well affected to the cause, in order to levy troops in Germany, and were intrusted to Brederode for the purpose. It was also determined that a last effort should be made to soften the duchess by means of a petition, which that chief, at the head of four hundred knights, was to bear to Brussels. But Margaret had had enough of petitions, and she bluntly informed Brederode, that, if he came in that guise, he would find the gates of Brussels shut against him.

Still the sturdy cavalier was not to be balked in his purpose; and, by means of an agent, he caused the petition to be laid before the regent. It was taken up mainly with a remonstrance on the course pursued by Margaret, so much at variance with her promises. It particularly enlarged on the limitation of her license for public preaching. In conclusion, it besought the regent to revoke her edict, to disband her forces, to raise the siege of Valenciennes, and to respect the agreement she had made with the league; in{293} which case they were ready to assure her of their support in maintaining order.