When gorged with the plunder of the city, the insurgents poured out at the gates, and fell with the same violence on the churches, convents, and other religious edifices in the suburbs. For three days these dismal scenes continued, without resistance on the part of the inhabitants.
Amidst the ruin in the cathedral, the mob had alone spared the royal arms and the escutcheons of the knights of the Golden Fleece, emblazoned on the walls. Calling this to mind, they now returned into the city to complete the work. But some of the knights, who were at Antwerp, collected a handful of their followers, and, with a few of the citizens, forced their way into the cathedral, arrested ten or twelve of the rioters, and easily dispersed the remainder; while a gallows erected on an eminence admonished the offenders of the fate that awaited them. The facility with which the disorders were repressed by a few resolute men naturally suggests the inference, that many of the citizens had too much sympathy with the authors of the outrages to care to check them, still less to bring the culprits to punishment. An orthodox chronicler of the time vents his indignation against a people who were so much more ready to stand by their hearths than by their altars.[814]
The fate of Antwerp had its effect on the country. The flames of fanaticism, burning fiercer than ever, quickly spread over the northern, as they had done over the western provinces. In Holland, Utrecht, Friesland,--everywhere, in short, with a few exceptions on the southern borders,--mobs rose against the churches. In some places, as Rotterdam, Dort, Haarlem, the magistrates were wary enough to avert the storm by delivering up the images, or at least by removing them from the buildings.[815] It was rare that any attempt was made at resistance. Yet on one or two occasions this so far succeeded that a handful of troops sufficed to rout the iconoclasts. At Anchyn, four hundred of the rabble were left dead on the field. But the soldiers had no relish for their duty, and on other occasions, when called on to perform it, refused to bear arms against their countrymen.[816] The leaven of heresy was too widely spread among the people.
Thus the work of plunder and devastation went on vigorously throughout the land. Cathedral and chapel, monastery and nunnery, religious houses of every description, even hospitals, were delivered up to the tender mercies of the Reformers. The monks fled, leaving behind them treasures of ma.n.u.scripts and well-stored cellars, which latter the invaders soon emptied of their contents, while they consigned the former to the flames. The terrified nuns, escaping half naked, at dead of night, from their convents, were too happy to find a retreat among their friends and kinsmen in the city.[817] Neither monk nor nun ventured to go abroad in the conventual garb. Priests might be sometimes seen hurrying away with some relic or sacred treasure under their robes, which they were eager to save from the spoilers. In the general sack not even the abode of the dead was respected; and the sepulchres of the counts of Flanders were violated, and laid open to the public gaze![818]
The deeds of violence perpetrated by the iconoclasts were accompanied by such indignities as might express their contempt for the ancient faith.
They s.n.a.t.c.hed the wafer, says an eye-witness, from the altar, and put it into the mouth of a parrot. Some huddled the images of the saints together, and set them on fire, or covered them with bits of armor, and, shouting "_Vivent les Gueux!_" tilted rudely against them. Some put on the vestments stolen from the churches, and ran about the streets with them in mockery. Some basted the books with b.u.t.ter, that they might burn the more briskly.[819] By the scholar, this last enormity will not be held light among their transgressions. It answered their purpose, to judge by the number of volumes that were consumed. Among the rest, the great library of Vicogne, one of the n.o.blest collections in the Netherlands, perished in the flames kindled by these fanatics.[820]
The amount of injury inflicted during this dismal period it is not possible to estimate. Four hundred churches were sacked by the insurgents in Flanders alone.[821] The damage to the cathedral of Antwerp, including its precious contents, was said to amount to not less than four hundred thousand ducats![822] The loss occasioned by the plunder of gold and silver plate might be computed. The structures so cruelly defaced might be repaired by the skill of the architect. But who can estimate the irreparable loss occasioned by the destruction of ma.n.u.scripts, statuary, and paintings? It is a melancholy fact, that the earliest efforts of the Reformers were everywhere directed against those monuments of genius which had been created and cherished by the generous patronage of Catholicism. But if the first step of the Reformation was on the ruins of art, it cannot be denied that a compensation has been found in the good which it has done by breaking the fetters of the intellect, and opening a free range in those domains of science to which all access had been hitherto denied.
The wide extent of the devastation was not more remarkable than the time in which it was accomplished. The whole work occupied less than a fortnight. It seemed as if the destroying angel had pa.s.sed over the land, and at a blow had consigned its n.o.blest edifices to ruin! The method and discipline, if I may so say, in the movements of the iconoclasts, were as extraordinary as their celerity. They would seem to have been directed by some other hands than those which met the vulgar eye. The quant.i.ty of gold and silver plate purloined from the churches and convents was immense. Though doubtless sometimes appropriated by individuals, it seems not unfrequently to have been gathered in a heap, and delivered to the minister, who, either of himself, or by direction of the consistory, caused it to be melted down, and distributed among the most needy of the sectaries.[823] We may sympathize with the indignation of a Catholic writer of the time, who exclaims, that in this way the poor churchmen were made to pay for the scourges with which they had been beaten.[824]
[Sidenote: ALARM AT BRUSSELS.]
The tidings of the outbreak fell heavily on the ears of the court of Brussels, 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 G.o.d 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 d.u.c.h.ess.
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 ma.s.sacre 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]
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 st.u.r.dy 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 d.u.c.h.ess 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 pa.s.sage either to the d.u.c.h.ess 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]
[Sidenote: CHURCHES GRANTED TO REFORMERS.]
The question now recurred as to the course to be pursued; and the more she pondered on the embarra.s.sments of her position, the more she became satisfied that no means of extricating herself remained but that proposed by the n.o.bles. 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 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 n.o.bles 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 pa.s.sage 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 princ.i.p.al 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 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 pet.i.tion to that effect before the throne,--not, probably, from any belief that such a pet.i.tion 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 reestablished in the land, through the efforts of the n.o.bles, 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 a.s.signed 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 n.o.bles in bringing 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.
[Sidenote: MARGARET REPENTS HER CONCESSIONS.]
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 n.o.bles, 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]
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 G.o.d 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 d.u.c.h.ess, 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 man in the Netherlands, there was no one who possessed less real influence in public affairs.[849]
[Sidenote: THE FEELING AT MADRID.]
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 circ.u.mstances 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 pa.s.sion 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 n.o.bles, 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 va.s.sals 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 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 pa.s.sing 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]
[Sidenote: THE FEELING AT MADRID.]
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 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 d.u.c.h.ess of Parma. Among other things, the writer says it is well understood at Madrid, that the great n.o.bles 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 d.u.c.h.ess 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 n.o.bles 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 att.i.tude 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 cooperation of the last importance, the conference broke up without coming to a determination.[858]
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 d.u.c.h.ess Alava"s letter, upbraiding her, at the same time, with her perfidious conduct towards the n.o.bles. 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 a.s.serts her belief that no such letter as that imputed to Alava had ever been written by him. How far the d.u.c.h.ess was honest in her declaration it is impossible at this day to determine.
Egmont, after pa.s.sing 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, a.s.suring 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.