CHAPTER VI

.

OPPOSITION TO THE GOVERNMENT.

Grounds of Complaint.--The Spanish Troops.--The New Bishoprics.--Influence on Granvelle.--Opposed by the Nobles.--His Unpopularity.

1559-1562.

The first cause of trouble, after Philip's departure from the Netherlands, arose from the detention of the Spanish troops there. The king had pledged his word, it will be remembered, that they should leave the country by the end of four months, at farthest. Yet that period had long since passed, and no preparations were made for their departure. The indignation of the people rose higher and higher at the insult thus offered by the presence of these detested foreigners. It was a season of peace. No invasion was threatened from abroad; no insurrection existed at home. There was nothing to require the maintenance of an extraordinary force, much less of one composed of foreign troops. It could only be that the king, distrusting his Flemish subjects, designed to overawe them by his mercenaries, in sufficient strength to enforce his arbitrary acts. The free spirit of the Netherlanders was roused by these suggestions, and they boldly demanded the removal of the Spaniards.

Granvelle himself, who would willingly have pleased his master by retaining a force in the country on which he could rely, admitted that the project was impracticable. "The troops must be withdrawn," he wrote, "and that speedily, or the consequence will be an insurrection."[514] The states would not consent, he said, to furnish the necessary subsidies while they remained. The prince of Orange and Count Egmont threw up the commands intrusted to them by the king. They dared no longer hold them, as the minister added, it was so unpopular.[515]

The troops had much increased the difficulty by their own misconduct. They were drawn from the great mass, often the dregs, of the people; and their morals, such as they were, had not been improved in the life of the camp. However strict their discipline in time of active service, it was greatly relaxed in their present state of inaction; and they had full license, as well as leisure, to indulge their mischievous appetites, at the expense of the unfortunate districts in which they were quartered.

Yet Philip was slow in returning an answer to the importunate letters of the regent and the minister; and when he did reply, it was to evade their request, lamenting his want of funds, and declaring his purpose to remove the forces so soon as he could pay their arrears. The public exchequer was undoubtedly at a low ebb; lower in Spain than in the Netherlands.[516] But no one could believe the royal credit so far reduced as not to be able to provide for the arrears of three or four thousand soldiers. The regent, however, saw that, with or without instructions, it was necessary to act. Several of the members of the council became sureties for the payment of the arrears, and the troops were ordered to Zealand, in order to embark for Spain. But the winds proved unfavorable. Two months longer they were detained, on shore or on board the transports. They soon got into brawls with the workmen employed on the dikes; and the inhabitants, still apprehensive of orders from the king countermanding the departure of the Spaniards, resolved, in such an event, to abandon the dikes, and lay the country under water![517] Fortunately, they were not driven to this extremity. In January, 1561, more than a year after the date assigned by Philip, the nation was relieved of the presence of the intruders.[518]

Philip's conduct in this affair is not very easy to explain. However much he might have desired originally to maintain the troops in the Netherlands, as an armed police on which he could rely to enforce the execution of his orders, it had become clear that the good they might do in quelling an insurrection was more than counterbalanced by the probability of their exciting one. It was characteristic of the king, however, to be slow in retreating from any position he had taken; and, as we shall often have occasion to see, there was a certain apathy or sluggishness in his nature, which led him sometimes to leave events to take their own course, rather than to shape a course for them himself.

This difficulty was no sooner settled, than it was followed by another scarcely less serious. We have seen, in a former chapter, the arrangements made for adding thirteen new bishoprics to the four already existing in the Netherlands. The measure, in itself a good one, and demanded by the situation of the country, was, from the posture of affairs at that time, likely to meet with opposition, if not to occasion great excitement. For this reason, the whole affair had been kept profoundly secret by the government. It was not till 1561 that Philip disclosed his views, in a letter to some of the principal nobles in the council of state. But, long before that time, the project had taken wind, and created a general sensation through the country.

The people looked on it as an attempt to subject them to the same ecclesiastical system which existed in Spain. The bishops, by virtue of their office, were possessed of certain inquisitorial powers, and these were still further enlarged by the provisions of the royal edicts. Philip's attachment to the Inquisition was well understood, and there was probably not a child in the country who had not heard of the _auto da fé_ which he had sanctioned by his presence on his return to his dominions. The present changes were regarded as part of a great scheme for introducing the Spanish Inquisition into the Netherlands.[519] However erroneous these conclusions, there is little reason to doubt they were encouraged by those who knew their fallacy.

[Sidenote: THE NEW BISHOPRICS.]

The nobles had other reasons for opposing the measure. The bishops would occupy in the legislature the place formerly held by the abbots, who were indebted for their election to the religious houses over which they presided. The new prelates, on the contrary, would receive their nomination from the crown; and the nobles saw with alarm their own independence menaced by the accession of an order of men who would naturally be subservient to the interests of the monarch. That the crown was not insensible to these advantages is evident from a letter of the minister, in which he sneers at the abbots, as "men fit only to rule over monasteries, ever willing to thwart the king, and as perverse as the lowest of the people."[520]

But the greatest opposition arose from the manner in which the new dignitaries were to be maintained. This was to be done by suppressing the offices of the abbots, and by appropriating the revenues of their houses to the maintenance of the bishops. For this economical arrangement Granvelle seems to have been chiefly responsible. Thus the income--amounting to fifty thousand ducats--of the Abbey of Afflighen, one of the wealthiest in Brabant, was to be bestowed on the archiepiscopal see of Mechlin, to be held by the minister himself.[521] In virtue of that dignity, Granvelle would become primate of the Netherlands.

Loud was the clamor excited by this arrangement among the members of the religious fraternities, and all those who directly or indirectly had any interest in them. It was a manifest perversion of the funds from the objects for which they had been given to the institutions. It was interfering with the economy of these institutions, protected by the national charters; and the people of Brabant appealed to the "_Joyeuse Entrée_." Jurists of the greatest eminence, in different parts of Europe, were consulted as to the legality of these proceedings. Thirty thousand florins were expended by Brabant alone in this matter, as well as in employing an agent at the court of Rome to exhibit the true state of the affair to his holiness, and to counteract the efforts of the Spanish government.[522]

The reader may remember, that, just before Philip's departure from the Netherlands, a bull arrived from Rome authorizing the erection of the new bishoprics. This was but the initiatory step. Many other proceedings were necessary before the consummation of the affair. Owing to impediments thrown in the way by the provinces, and the habitual tardiness of the court of Rome, nearly three years elapsed before the final briefs were expedited by Pius the Fourth. New obstacles were raised by the jealous temper of the Flemings, who regarded the whole matter as a conspiracy of the pope and the king against the liberties of the nation. Utrecht, Gueldres, and three other places, refused to receive their bishops; and they never obtained a footing there. Antwerp, which was to have been made an episcopal see, sent a commission to the king to represent the ruin this would bring on its trade, from the connection supposed to exist between the episcopal establishment and the Spanish Inquisition. For a year the king would not condescend to give any heed to the remonstrance. He finally consented to defer the decision of the question till his arrival in the country; and Antwerp was saved from its bishop.[523]

In another place we find the bishop obtaining an admission through the management of Granvelle, who profited by the temporary absence of the nobles. Nowhere were the new prelates received with enthusiasm, but, on the contrary, wherever they were admitted, it was with a coldness and silence that intimated too plainly the aversion of the inhabitants. Such was the case with the archbishop of Mechlin himself, who made his entry into the capital of his diocese with not a voice to cheer or to welcome him.[524] In fact, everywhere the newly elected prelate seemed more like the thief stealthily climbing into the fold, than the good shepherd who had come to guard it.

Meanwhile the odium of these measures fell on the head of the minister. No other man had been so active in enforcing them, and he had the credit universally with the people of having originated the whole scheme, and proposed it to the sovereign. But from this Philip expressly exonerates him in a letter to the regent, in which he says, that the whole plan had been settled long before it was communicated to Granvelle.[525] Indeed, the latter, with some show of reason, demanded whether, being already one of four bishops in the country, he should be likely to recommend a plan which would make him only one of seventeen.[526] This appeal to self-interest did not wholly satisfy those who thought that it was better to be the first of seventeen, than to be merely one of four where all were equal.

Whatever may have been Granvelle's original way of thinking in the matter, it is certain that, whether it arose from his accommodating temper, or from his perceptions of the advantages of the scheme being quickened by his prospect of the primacy, he soon devoted himself, heart as well as hand, to carry out the royal views. "I am convinced," he writes, in the spring of 1560, to Philip's secretary, Perez, "that no measure could be more advantageous to the country, or more necessary for the support of religion; and if necessary to the success of the scheme, I would willingly devote to it my fortune and my life."[527]

[Sidenote: INFLUENCE OF GRANVELLE.]

Accordingly we find him using all his strength to carry the project through, devising expedients for raising the episcopal revenues, and thus occupying a position which exposed him to general obloquy. He felt this bitterly, and at times, even with all his constancy, was hardly able to endure it. "Though I say nothing," he writes in the month of September, 1561, to the Spanish ambassador in Rome, "I feel the danger of the situation in which the king has placed me. All the odium of these measures falls on my head; and I only pray that a remedy for the evil may be found, though it should be by the sacrifice of myself. Would to God the erection of these bishoprics had never been thought of!"[528]

In February, 1561, Granvelle received a cardinal's hat from Pope Pius the Fourth. He did not show the alacrity usually manifested in accepting this distinguished honor. He had obtained it by the private intercession of the duchess of Parma; and he feared lest the jealousy of Philip might be alarmed, were it to any other than himself that his minister owed this distinction. But the king gave the proceeding his cordial sanction, declaring to Granvelle that the reward was no higher than his desert.

Thus clothed with the Roman purple, primate of the Netherlands, and first minister of state, Granvelle might now look down on the proudest noble in the land. He stood at the head of both the civil and the ecclesiastical administration of the country. All authority centred in his person. Indeed, such had been the organization of the council of state, that the minister might be said to be not so much the head of the government as the government itself.

The affairs of the council were conducted in the manner prescribed by Philip. Ordinary business passed through the hands of the whole body; but affairs of moment were reserved for the cardinal and his two coadjutors to settle with the regent. On such occasions the other ministers were not even summoned, or, if summoned, such only of the despatches from Spain as the minister chose to communicate were read, and the remainder reserved for the _consulta_. When, as did sometimes happen, the nobles carried a measure in opposition to Granvelle, he would refer the whole question to the court at Madrid.[529] By this expedient he gained time for the present, and probably obtained a decision in his favor at last. The regent conformed entirely to the cardinal's views. The best possible understanding seems to have subsisted between them, to judge from the tone of their correspondence with Philip, in which each of the parties bestows the most unqualified panegyric on the other. Yet there was a strange reserve in their official intercourse. Even when occupying the same palace, they are said to have communicated with each other by writing.[530] The reason suggested for this singular proceeding is, that it might not appear, from their being much together, that the regent was acting so entirely under the direction of the minister. It is certain that both Margaret and Granvelle had an uncommon passion for letter-writing, as is shown by the length and number of their epistles, particularly to the king. The cardinal especially went into a gossiping minuteness of detail, to which few men in his station would have condescended. But his master, to whom his letters at this period were chiefly addressed, had the virtue of patience in an extraordinary degree, as is evinced by the faithful manner in which he perused these despatches, and made notes upon them with his own hand.

The minister occupied a palace in Brussels, and had another residence at a short distance from the capital.[531] He maintained great pomp in his establishment, was attended by a large body of retainers, and his equipage and liveries were distinguished by their magnificence. He gave numerous banquets, held large _levées_, and, in short, assumed a state in his manner of living which corresponded with his station, and did no violence to his natural taste. We may well believe that the great lords of the country, whose ancestors had for centuries filled its highest places, must have chafed as they saw themselves thrown into the shade by one whose fortunes had been thus suddenly forced to this unnatural height by the sunshine of royal favor. Their indignation was heightened by the tricky arrangement, which, while it left them ciphers in the administration, made them responsible to the people for its measures. And if the imputation to Granvelle of arrogance, in the pride of his full-blown fortunes, was warranted, feelings of a personal nature may have mingled with those of general discontent.

But, however they may have felt, the Flemish lords must be allowed not to have been precipitate in the demonstration of their feelings. It is not till 1562 that we observe the cardinal, in his correspondence with Spain, noticing any discourtesy in the nobles, or intimating the existence of any misunderstanding with them. In the spring of the preceding year we find the prince of Orange "commending himself cordially and affectionately to the cardinal's good will;" and subscribing himself, "your very good friend to command."[532] In four months after this, on the twenty-third of July, we have a letter from this "very good friend" and count Egmont, addressed to Philip. In this epistle the writers complain bitterly of their exclusion from all business of importance in the council of state. They were only invited to take part in deliberations of no moment. This was contrary to the assurance of his majesty when they reluctantly accepted office; and it was in obedience to his commands to advise him if this should occur that they now wrote to him.[533] Nevertheless, they should have still continued to bear the indignity in silence, had they not found that they were held responsible by the people for measures in which they had no share.[534]--Considering the arrangement Philip had made for the _consulta_, one has little reason to commend his candor in this transaction, and not much to praise his policy. As he did not redress the evil, his implied disavowal of being privy to it would hardly go for anything with the injured party. In his answer, Philip thanked the nobles for their zeal in his service, and promised to reply to them more at large on the return of Count Hoorne to Flanders.[535]

There is no reason to suppose that Granvelle was ever acquainted with the fact of the letter having been written by the two lords. The privilege claimed by the novelist, who looks over the shoulders of his heroes and heroines when they are inditing their epistles, is also enjoyed by the historian. With the materials rescued from the mouldering archives of the past, he can present the reader with a more perfect view of the motives and opinions of the great actors in the drama three centuries ago, than they possessed in respect to one another. This is

## particularly true of the period before us, when the correspondence of

the parties interested was ample in itself, and, through the care taken of it, in public and private collections, has been well preserved. Such care was seldom bestowed on historical documents of this class before the sixteenth century.

[Sidenote: OPPOSED BY THE NOBLES.]

It is not till long--nearly a year--after the date of the preceding letter, that anything appears to intimate the existence of a coldness, much less of an open rupture, between Granvelle and the discontented nobles. Meanwhile, the religious troubles in France had been fast gathering to a head; and the opposite factions ranged themselves under the banners of their respective chiefs, prepared to decide the question by arms. Philip the Second, who stood forth as the champion of Catholicism, not merely in his own dominions, but throughout Christendom, watched with anxiety the struggle going forward in the neighboring kingdom. It had the deeper interest for him, from its influence on the Low Countries. His Italian possessions were separated from France by the Alps; his Spanish, by the Pyrenees. But no such mountain barrier lay between France and Flanders. They were not even separated, in the border provinces, by difference of language. Every shock given to France must necessarily be felt in the remotest corner of the Netherlands. Granvelle was so well aware of this, that he besought the king to keep an eye on his French neighbors, and support them in the maintenance of the Roman Catholic religion. "That they should be maintained in this is quite as important to us as it is to them. Many here," he adds, "would be right glad to see affairs go badly for the Catholics in that kingdom. No noble as yet among us has openly declared himself. Should any one do so, God only could save the country from the fate of France."[536]

## Acting on these hints, and conformably to his own views, Philip sent

orders to the regent to raise two thousand men, and send them across the borders to support the French Catholics. The orders met with decided resistance in the council of state. The great Flemish lords, at this time, must have affected, if they did not feel, devotion to the established religion. But they well knew there was too large a leaven of heresy in the country to make these orders palatable. They felt no desire, moreover, thus unnecessarily to mix themselves up with the feuds of France. They represented that the troops could not safely be dispensed with in the present state of feeling at home; and that, if they marched against the Protestants of France, the German Protestants might be expected to march against them.

Granvelle, on the other hand, would have enforced the orders of Philip, as essential to the security of the Netherlands themselves. Margaret, thus pressed by the opposite parties, felt the embarrassment of either course. The alternative presented was, that of disobeying the king, or of incurring the resentment, perhaps the resistance, of the nation. Orange and Egmont besought her to convoke the states-general, as the only safe counsellors in such an emergency. The states had often been convened on matters of less moment by the former regent, Mary of Hungary. But the cardinal had no mind to invoke the interference of that "mischievous animal, the people."[537] He had witnessed a convocation of the states previous to the embarkation of Philip; and he had not forgotten the independent tone then assumed by that body. It had been, indeed, the last injunction of the king to his sister, on no account to call a meeting of the national legislature till his return to the country.

But while on this ground Margaret refused to summon the states-general, she called a meeting of the order of the Golden Fleece, to whom she was to apply for counsel on extraordinary occasions. The knights of the order consisted of persons of the highest consideration in the country, including the governors of the provinces. In May, 1562, they assembled at Brussels. Before meeting in public, the prince of Orange invited them to a conference in his own palace. He there laid before them the state of the country, and endeavored to concert with the members some regular system of resistance to the exclusive and arbitrary course of the minister. Although no definite action took place at that time, most of those present would seem to have fallen in with the views of the prince. There were some, however, who took opposite ground, and who declared themselves content with Granvelle, and not disposed to prescribe to their sovereign the choice of his ministers. The foremost of these were the duke of Arschot, a zealous Catholic, and Count Barlaimont, president of the council of finance, and, as we have already seen, altogether devoted to the minister. This nobleman communicated to Margaret the

## particulars of the meeting in the prince's palace; and the regent was

careful to give the knights of the order such incessant occupation during the remainder of their stay in the capital, as to afford the prince of Orange no opportunity of pursuing his scheme of agitation.[538]

Before the assembly of the Golden Fleece had been dissolved, it was decided to send an envoy to the king to lay before him the state of the country, both in regard to the religious excitement, much stimulated in certain quarters by the condition of France, and to the financial embarrassments, which now pressed heavily on the government. The person selected for the office was Florence de Montmorency, lord of Montigny, a cavalier who had the boldness to avow his aversion to any interference with the rights of conscience, and whose sympathies, it will be believed, were not on the side of the minister.

Soon after his departure, the vexed question of aid to France was settled in the council by commuting personal service for money. It was decided to raise a subsidy of fifty thousand crowns, to be remitted at once to the French government.[539]

Montigny reached Spain in June, 1562. He was graciously received by Philip, who, in a protracted audience, gathered from him a circumstantial account of the condition of the Netherlands. In answer to the royal queries, the envoy also exposed the misunderstanding which existed between the minister and the nobles.

But the duchess of Parma did not trust this delicate affair to the representations of Montigny. She wrote herself to her brother, in Italian, which, when she would give her own views on matters of importance, she used instead of French, ordinarily employed by the secretaries. In Italian she expressed herself with the greatest fluency, and her letters in that language, for the purpose of secrecy, were written with her own hand.

[Sidenote: OPPOSED BY THE NOBLES.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: RESISTANCE TO THE EDICTS.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Sidenote: LEAGUE AGAINST GRANVELLE.]

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

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