Without going into details, it is only necessary to say, that the confederates, after stating their grounds for apprehension, requested that an a.s.surance should be given by the government that no harm was intended them. As to pardon for the past, they disclaimed all desire for it. What they had done called for applause, not condemnation. They only trusted that his majesty would be pleased to grant a convocation of the states-general, to settle the affairs of the country. In the mean time, they besought him to allow the concerns of the confederates to be placed in the hands of the prince of Orange, and the Counts Egmont and Hoorne, to act as their mediators with the crown, promising in all things to be guided by their counsel. Thus would tranquillity be restored. But without some guaranty for their safety, they should be obliged to protect themselves by foreign aid.[786]
The haughty tone of this memorial forms a striking contrast with that of the pet.i.tion presented by the same body not four months before, and shows with what rapid strides the revolution had advanced. The religious agitations had revealed the amount of discontent in the country, and to what extent, therefore, the confederates might rely on the sympathy of the people. This was most unequivocally proved during the meeting of St.
Trond, where memorials were presented by the merchants, and by persons of the Reformed religion, praying the protection of the league to secure them freedom of worship, till otherwise determined by the states-general. This extraordinary request was granted.[787] Thus the two great parties leaned on each other for support, and gave mutual confidence to their respective movements. The confederates, discarding the idea of grace, which they had once solicited, now darkly intimated a possible appeal to arms. The Reformers, on their side, instead of the mitigation of penalties, now talked of nothing less than absolute toleration. Thus political Revolution and religious Reform went hand in hand together. The n.o.bles and the commons, the two most opposite elements of the body politic, were united closely by a common interest; and a formidable opposition was organized to the designs of the monarch, which might have made any monarch tremble on his throne.
An important fact shows that the confederates coolly looked forward, even at this time, to a conflict with Spain. Louis of Na.s.sau had a large correspondence with the leaders of the Huguenots in France, and of the Lutherans in Germany. By the former he had been offered substantial aid in the way of troops. But the national jealousy entertained of the French would have made it impolitic to accept it. He turned therefore to Germany, where he had numerous connections, and where he subsidized a force consisting of four thousand horse and forty companies of foot, to be at the disposal of the league. This negotiation was conducted under the eye, and, as it seems, partly through the agency, of his brother William.[788] From this moment, therefore, if not before, the prince of Orange may be identified with the party who were prepared to maintain their rights by an appeal to arms.
[Sidenote: MEETING AT ST. TROND.]
These movements of the league could not be kept so close but that they came to the knowledge of Margaret. Indeed, she had her secret agents at St. Trond, who put her in possession of whatever was done, or even designed, by the confederates.[789] This was fully exhibited in her correspondence with Philip, while she again called his attention to the forlorn condition of the government, without men, or money, or the means to raise it.[790] "The sectaries go armed," she writes, "and are organizing their forces. The league is with them. There remains nothing but that they should band together, and sack the towns, villages, and churches, of which I am in marvellous great fear."[791]--Her fears had gifted her with the spirit of prophecy. She implores her brother, if he will not come himself to Flanders, to convoke the states-general, quoting the words of Egmont, that, unless summoned by the king they would a.s.semble of themselves, to devise some remedy for the miseries of the land, and prevent its otherwise inevitable ruin.[792] At length came back the royal answer to Margaret"s reiterated appeals. It had at least one merit, that of being perfectly explicit.
Montigny, on reaching Madrid, as we have seen, had ready access to Philip. Both he and his companion, the marquis of Bergen, were allowed to witness, it would seem, the deliberations of the council of state, when the subject of their mission was discussed. Among the members of that body, at this time, may be noticed the duke of Alva; Ruy Gomez de Silva, prince of Eboli, who divided with Alva the royal favor; Figueroa, count of Feria, a man of an acute and penetrating intellect, formerly amba.s.sador to England, in Queen Mary"s time; and Luis de Quixada, the major-domo of Charles the fifth. Besides these there were two or three councillors from the Netherlands, among whose names we meet with that of Hopper, the near friend and a.s.sociate of Viglius. There was great unanimity in the opinions of this loyal body, where none, it will be readily believed, was disposed to lift his voice in favour of reform.
The course of events in the Netherlands, they agreed, plainly showed a deliberate and well-concerted scheme of the great n.o.bles to secure to themselves the whole power of the country. The first step was the removal of Granvelle, a formidable obstacle in their path. Then came the attempt to concentrate the management of affairs in the hands of the council of state. This was followed by a.s.saults on the Inquisition and the edicts, as the things most obnoxious to the people; by the cry in favor of the states-general; by the league, the Compromise, the pet.i.tions, the religious a.s.semblies; and, finally, by the present mission to Spain. All was devised by the great n.o.bles, as part of a regular system of hostility to the crown, the real object of which was to overturn existing inst.i.tutions, and to build up their own authority on the ruins. While the council regarded these proceedings with the deepest indignation, they admitted the necessity of bending to the storm, and under present circ.u.mstances judged it prudent for the monarch to make certain specified concessions to the people of the Netherlands.
Above all, they earnestly besought Philip, if he would still remain master of this portion of his empire, to defer no longer his visit to the country.[793]
The discussions occupied many and long-protracted sittings of the council; and Philip deeply pondered, in his own closet, on the results, after the discussions were concluded. Even those most familiar with his habits were amazed at the long delay of his decision in the present critical circ.u.mstances.[794] The haughty mind of the monarch found it difficult to bend to the required concessions. At length his answer came.
The letter containing it was addressed to his sister, and was dated on the thirty-first of July, 1566, at the Wood of Segovia,--the same place from which he had dictated his memorable despatches the year preceding.
Philip began, as usual, with expressing his surprise at the continued troubles of the country. He was not aware that any rigorous procedure could be charged on the tribunals, or that any change had been made in the laws since the days of Charles the Fifth. Still, as it was much more agreeable to his nature to proceed with clemency and love than with severity,[795] he would conform as far as possible to the desires of his va.s.sals.
He was content that the Inquisition should be abolished in the Netherlands, and in its place be subst.i.tuted the inquisitorial powers vested in the bishops. As to the edicts, he was not pleased with the plan of Moderation devised by Margaret; nor did he believe that any plan would satisfy the people short of perfect toleration. Still, he would have his sister prepare another scheme, having due reference to the maintenance of the Catholic faith and his own authority. This must be submitted to him, and he would do all that he possibly could in the matter.[796] Lastly, in respect to a general pardon, as he abhorred rigor where any other course would answer the end,[797] he was content that it should be extended to whomever Margaret thought deserving of it,--always excepting those already condemned, and under a solemn pledge, moreover, that the n.o.bles would abandon the league, and henceforth give their hearty support to the government.
Four days after the date of these despatches, on the second of August, Philip again wrote to his sister, touching the summoning of the states-general, which she had so much pressed. He had given the subject, he said, a most patient consideration, and was satisfied that she had done right in refusing to call them together. She must not consent to it. He never would consent to it.[798] He knew too well to what it must inevitably lead. Yet he would not have her report his decision in the absolute and peremptory terms in which he had given it to her, but as intended merely for the present occasion; so that the people might believe she was still looking for something of a different tenor, and cherish the hope of obtaining their object at some future day![799]
The king also wrote, that he should remit a sufficient sum to Margaret to enable her to take into her pay a body of ten thousand German foot and three thousand horse, on which she could rely in case of extremity.
He further wrote letters with his own hand to the governors of the provinces and the princ.i.p.al cities, calling on them to support the regent in her efforts to enforce the laws and maintain order throughout the country.[800]
Such were the concessions granted by Philip, at the eleventh hour, to his subjects of the Netherlands!--concessions wrung from him by hard necessity; doled out, as it were, like the scanty charity of the miser,--too scanty and too late to serve the object for which it is intended. But slight as these concessions were, and crippled by conditions which rendered them nearly nugatory, it will hardly be believed that he was not even sincere in making them! This is proved by a revelation lately made of a curious doc.u.ment in the Archives of Simancas.
[Sidenote: PHILIP"S CONCESSIONS.]
While the ink was scarcely dry on the despatches to Margaret, Philip summoned a notary into his presence, and before the duke of Alva and two other persons, jurists, solemnly protested that the authority he had given to the regent in respect to a general pardon was not of his own free will. "He therefore did not feel bound by it, but reserved to himself the right to punish the guilty, and especially the authors and abettors of sedition in the Low Countries."[801] We feel ourselves at once transported into the depths of the Middle Ages. This feeling will not be changed when we learn the rest of the story of this admirable piece of kingcraft.
The chair of St. Peter, at this time, was occupied by Pius the Fifth, a pope who had a.s.sumed the same name as his predecessor, and who displayed a spirit of fierce, indeed frantic intolerance, surpa.s.sing even that of Paul the Fourth. At the accession of the new pope there were three Italian scholars, inhabitants of Milan, Venice, and Tuscany, eminent for their piety, who had done great service to the cause of letters in Italy, but who were suspected of too liberal opinions in matters of faith. Pius the Fifth demanded that these scholars should all be delivered into his hands. The three states had the meanness to comply.
The unfortunate men were delivered up to the Holy Office, condemned, and burned at the stake. This was one of the first acts of the new pontificate. It proclaimed to Christendom that Pius the Fifth was the uncompromising foe of heresy, the pope of the Inquisition. Every subsequent act of his reign served to confirm his claim to this distinction.
Yet, as far as the interests of Catholicism were concerned, a character like that of Pius the Fifth must be allowed to have suited the times.
During the latter part of the fifteenth century and the beginning of the sixteenth, the throne had been filled by a succession of pontiffs notorious for their religious indifference, and their carelessness, too often profligacy, of life. This, as is well known, was one of the prominent causes of the Reformation. A reaction followed. It was necessary to save the Church. A race of men succeeded, of ascetic temper, remarkable for their austere virtues, but without a touch of sympathy for the joys or sorrows of their species, and wholly devoted to the great work of regenerating the fallen Church. As the influence of the former popes had opened a career to the Reformation, the influence of these latter popes tended materially to check it; and long before the close of the sixteenth century the boundary line was defined, which it has never since been allowed to pa.s.s.
Pius, as may be imagined, beheld with deep anxiety the spread of the new religion in the Low Countries. He wrote to the d.u.c.h.ess of Parma, exhorting her to resist to the utmost, and professing his readiness to supply her, if need were, with both men and money. To Philip he also wrote, conjuring him not to falter in the good cause, and to allow no harm to the Catholic faith, but to march against his rebellious va.s.sals at the head of his army, and wash out the stain of heresy in the blood of the heretic.[802]
The king now felt it inc.u.mbent on him to explain to the holy father his late proceedings. This he did through Requesens, his amba.s.sador at the papal court. The minister was to inform his holiness that Philip would not have moved in this matter without his advice, had there been time for it. But perhaps it was better as it was; for the abolition of the Inquisition in the Low Countries could not take effect, after all, unless sanctioned by the pope, by whose authority it had been established. This, however, was _to be said in confidence_.[803] As to the edicts, Pius might be a.s.sured that his majesty would never approve of any scheme which favored the guilty by diminishing in any degree the penalties of their crimes. This also _was to be considered as secret_.[804] Lastly, his holiness need not be scandalized by the grant of a general pardon, since it referred only to what concerned the king personally, where he had a right to grant it. In fine, the pope might rest a.s.sured that the king would consent to nothing that could prejudice the service of G.o.d or the interests of religion. He deprecated force, as that would involve the ruin of the country. Still, he would march in person, without regard to his own peril, and employ force, though it should cost the ruin of the provinces, but he would bring his va.s.sals to submission. For he would sooner lose a hundred lives, and every rood of empire, than reign a lord over heretics.[805]
[Sidenote: CATHEDRAL OF ANTWERP SACKED.]
Thus all the concessions of Philip, not merely his promises of grace, but those of abolishing the Inquisition and mitigating the edicts, were to go for nothing,--mere words, to amuse the people until some effectual means could be decided on. The king must be allowed, for once at least, to have spoken with candor. There are few persons who would not have shrunk from acknowledging to their own hearts that they were acting on so deliberate a system of perfidy as Philip thus confided in his correspondence with another. Indeed, he seems to have regarded the pope in the light of his confessor, to whom he was to unburden his bosom as frankly as if he had been in the confessional. The shrift was not likely to bring down a heavy penance from one who doubtless held to the orthodox maxim of "No faith to be kept with heretics."
The result of these royal concessions was what might have been expected.
Crippled as they were by conditions, they were regarded in the Low Countries with distrust, not to say contempt. In fact, the point at which Philip had so slowly and painfully arrived had been long since pa.s.sed in the onward march of the revolution. The men of the Netherlands now talked much more of recompense than of pardon. By a curious coincidence, the thirty-first of July, the day on which the king wrote his last despatches from Segovia, was precisely the date of those which Margaret sent to him from Brussels, giving the particulars of the recent troubles, of the meeting at St. Trond, the demand for a guaranty, and for an immediate summons of the legislature.
But the fountain of royal grace had been completely drained by the late efforts. Philip"s reply at this time was prompt and to the point. As to the guaranty, he said, that was superfluous when he had granted a general pardon. For the states-general, there was no need to alter his decision now, since he was so soon to be present in the country.[806]
This visit of the king to the Low Countries, respecting which so much was said and so little was done, seems to have furnished some amus.e.m.e.nt to the wits of the court. The prince of Asturias, Don Carlos, scribbled one day on the cover of a blank book, as its t.i.tle, "The Great and Admirable Voyages of King Philip;" and within, for the contents, he wrote, "From Madrid to the Pardo, from the Pardo to the Escorial, from the Escorial to Aranjuez," &c., &c.[807] This jest of the graceless son had an edge to it. We are not told how far it was relished by his royal father.
CHAPTER XII.
THE ICONOCLASTS.
Cathedral of Antwerp sacked.--Sacrilegious Outrages.--Alarm at Brussels.--Churches granted to Reformers.--Margaret repents her Concessions.--Feeling at Madrid.--Sagacity of Orange.--His Religious Opinions.
1566.
While Philip was thus tardily coming to concessions which even then were not sincere, an important crisis had arrived in the affairs of the Netherlands. In the earlier stages of the troubles, all orders, the n.o.bles, the commons, even the regent, had united in the desire to obtain the removal of certain abuses, especially the Inquisition and the edicts. But this movement, in which the Catholic joined with the Protestant, had far less reference to the interests of religion than to the personal rights of the individual. Under the protection thus afforded, however, the Reformation struck deep root in the soil. It nourished still more under the favor shown to it by the confederates, who, as we have seen, did not scruple to guaranty security of religions worship to some of the sectaries who demanded it.
But the element which contributed most to the success of the new religion was the public preachings. These in the Netherlands were what the Jacobin clubs were in France, or the secret societies in Germany and Italy,--an obvious means for bringing together such as were pledged to a common hostility to existing inst.i.tutions, and thus affording them an opportunity for consulting on their grievances, and for concerting the best means of redress. The direct object of these meetings, it is true, was to listen to the teachings of the minister. But that functionary, far from confining himself to spiritual exercises, usually wandered to more exciting themes, as the corruptions of the Church and the condition of the land. He rarely failed to descant on the forlorn circ.u.mstances of himself and his flock, condemned thus stealthily to herd together like a band of outlaws, with ropes, as it were, about their necks, and to seek out some solitary spot in which to glorify the Lord, while their enemies, in all the pride of a dominant religion, could offer up their devotions openly and without fear, in magnificent temples. The preacher inveighed bitterly against the richly benefited clergy of the rival Church, whose lives of pampered ease too often furnished an indifferent commentary on the doctrines they inculcated. His wrath was kindled by the pompous ceremonial of the Church of Rome, so dazzling and attractive to its votaries, but which the Reformer sourly contrasted with the naked simplicity of the Protestant service. Of all abominations, however, the greatest in his eyes was the worship of images, which he compared to the idolatry that in ancient times had so often brought down the vengeance of Jehovah on the nations of Palestine; and he called on his hearers, not merely to remove idolatry from their hearts, but the idols from their sight.[808] It was not wonderful that, thus stimulated by their spiritual leaders, the people should be prepared for scenes similar to those enacted by the Reformers in France and in Scotland; or that Margaret, aware of the popular feeling, should have predicted such an outbreak. At length it came, and on a scale and with a degree of violence not surpa.s.sed either by the Huguenots or the disciples of Knox.
On the fourteenth of August, the day before the festival of the a.s.sumption of the Virgin, a mob, some three hundred in number, armed with clubs, axes, and other implements of destruction, broke into the churches around St. Omer, in the province of Flanders, overturned the images, defaced the ornaments, and in a short time demolished whatever had any value or beauty in the buildings. Growing bolder from the impunity which attended their movements, they next proceeded to Ypres, and had the audacity to break into the cathedral, and deal with it in the same ruthless manner. Strengthened by the accession of other miscreants from the various towns, they proceeded along the banks of the Lys, and fell upon the churches of Menin, Comines, and other places on its borders. The excitement now spread over the country. Everywhere the populace was in arms. Churches, chapels, and convents were involved in indiscriminate ruin. The storm, after sweeping over Flanders, and desolating the flourishing cities of Valenciennes and Tournay, descended on Brabant. Antwerp, the great commercial capital of the country, was its first mark.[809]
[Sidenote: CATHEDRAL OF ANTWERP SACKED.]
The usual population of the town happened to be swelled at this time by an influx of strangers from the neighboring country, who had come up to celebrate the great festival of the a.s.sumption of the Virgin.
Fortunately the prince of Orange was in the place, and by his presence prevented any molestation to the procession, except what arose from the occasional groans and hisses of the more zealous spectators among the Protestants. The priests, however, on their return, had the discretion to deposit the image in the chapel, instead of the conspicuous station usually a.s.signed to it in the cathedral, to receive there during the coming week the adoration of the faithful.
On the following day, unluckily, the prince was recalled to Brussels. In the evening some boys, who had found their way into the church, called out to the Virgin, demanding "why little Mary had gone so early to her nest, and whether she were afraid to show her face in public."[810] This was followed by one of the party mounting into the pulpit, and there mimicking the tones and gestures of the Catholic preacher. An honest waterman who was present, a zealous son of the Church, scandalized by this insult to his religion, sprang into the pulpit, and endeavored to dislodge the usurper. The lad resisted. His comrades came to his rescue; and a struggle ensued, which ended in both the parties being expelled from the building by the officers.[811] This scandalous proceeding, it may be thought, should have put the magistrates of the city on their guard, and warned them to take some measures of defence for the cathedral. But the admonition was not heeded.
On the following day a considerable number of the reformed party entered the building, and were allowed to continue there after vespers, when the rest of the congregation had withdrawn. Left in possession, their first act was to break forth into one of the Psalms of David. The sound of their own voices seemed to rouse them to fury. Before the chant had died away, they rushed forward as by a common impulse, broke open the doors of the chapel, and dragged forth the image of the Virgin. Some called on her to cry, "_Vivent les Gueux!_" while others tore off her embroidered robes, and rolled the dumb idol in the dust, amidst the shouts of the spectators.
This was the signal for havoc. The rioters dispersed in all directions on the work of destruction. Nothing escaped their rage. High above the great altar was an image of the Saviour, curiously carved in wood, and placed between the effigies of the two thieves crucified with him. The mob contrived to get a rope round the neck of the statue of Christ, and dragged it to the ground. They then fell upon it with hatchets and hammers, and it was soon broken into a hundred fragments. The two thieves, it was remarked, were spared, as if to preside over the work of rapine below.
Their fury now turned against the other statues, which were quickly overthrown from their pedestals. The paintings that lined the walls of the cathedral were cut into shreds. Many of these were the choicest specimens of Flemish art, even then, in its dawn, giving promise of the glorious day which was to shed a l.u.s.tre over the land.
But the pride of the cathedral, and of Antwerp, was the great organ, renowned throughout the Netherlands, not more for its dimensions than its perfect workmanship. With their ladders the rioters scaled the lofty fabric, and with their implements soon converted it, like all else they laid their hands on, into a heap of rubbish.
The ruin was now universal. Nothing beautiful, nothing holy, was spared.
The altars--and there were no less than seventy in the vast edifice--were overthrown one after another; their richly embroidered coverings rudely rent away; their gold and silver vessels appropriated by the plunderers. The sacramental bread was trodden under foot; the wine was quaffed by the miscreants, in golden chalices, to the health of one another, or of the Gueux; and the holy oil was profanely used to anoint their shoes and sandals. The sculptured tracery on the walls, the costly offerings that enriched the shrines, the screens of gilded bronze, the delicately carved wood-work of the pulpit, the marble and alabaster ornaments, all went down under the fierce blows of the iconoclasts. The pavement was strewed with the ruined splendors of a church, which in size and magnificence was perhaps second only to St.
Peter"s among the churches of Christendom.
As the light of day faded, the a.s.sailants supplied its place with such light as they could obtain from the candles which they s.n.a.t.c.hed from the altars. It was midnight before the work of destruction was completed.
Thus toiling in darkness, feebly dispelled by tapers the rays of which could scarcely penetrate the vaulted distances of the cathedral, it is a curious circ.u.mstance--if true--than no one was injured by the heavy ma.s.ses of timber, stone, and metal that were everywhere falling around them.[812] The whole number engaged in this work is said not to have exceeded a hundred men, women, and boys,--women of the lowest description, dressed in men"s attire.
When their task was completed, they sallied forth in a body from the doors of the cathedral, some singing the Psalms of David, others roaring out the fanatical war-cry of "_Vivent les Gueux!_" Flushed with success, and joined on the way by stragglers like themselves, they burst open the doors of one church after another; and by the time morning broke, the princ.i.p.al temples in the city had been dealt with in the same ruthless manner as the cathedral.[813]
No attempt all this time was made to stop these proceedings on the part of magistrates or citizens. As they beheld from their windows the bodies of armed men hurrying to and fro by the gleam of their torches, and listened to the sounds of violence in the distance, they seem to have been struck with a panic. The Catholics remained within doors, fearing a general rising of the Protestants. The Protestants feared to move abroad, lest they should be confounded with the rioters. Some imagined their own turn might come next, and appeared in arms at the entrances of their houses, prepared to defend them against the enemy.
[Sidenote: SACRILEGIOUS OUTRAGES.]