CHAPTER I

.

ALVA SENT TO THE NETHERLANDS.

Alva's Appointment.--His remarkable March.--He arrives at Brussels.--Margaret disgusted.--Policy of the Duke.--Arrest of Egmont and Hoorne.

1567.

While Margaret was thus successful in bringing the country to a state of at least temporary tranquillity, measures were taken at the court of Madrid for shifting the government of the Netherlands into other hands, and for materially changing its policy.

We have seen how actively the rumors had been circulated, throughout the last year, of Philip's intended visit to the country. These rumors had received abundant warrant from his own letters, addressed to the regent and to his ministers at the different European courts. Nor did the king confine himself to professions. He applied to the French government to allow a free passage for his army through its territories. He caused a survey to be made of that part of Savoy through which his troops would probably march, and a map of the proposed route to be prepared. He ordered fresh levies from Germany to meet him on the Flemish frontier. And finally, he talked of calling the cortes together, to provide for the regency during his absence.

Yet whoever else might be imposed on, there was one potentate in Europe whose clear vision was not to be blinded by the professions of Philip, nor by all this bustle of preparation. This was the old pontiff, Pius the Fifth, who had always distrusted the king's sincerity. Pius had beheld with keen anguish the spread of heresy in the Low Countries. Like a true son of the Inquisition as he was, he would gladly have seen its fires kindled in every city of this apostate land. He had observed with vexation the apathy manifested by Philip. And he at length resolved to despatch a special embassy to Spain, to stimulate the monarch, if possible, to more decided action.

The person employed was the bishop of Ascoli, and the good father delivered his rebuke in such blunt terms as caused a sensation at the court of Madrid. In a letter to his ambassador at Rome, Philip complained that the pope should have thus held him up to Christendom as one slack in the performance of his duty. The envoy had delivered himself in so strange a manner, Philip added, that, but for the respect and love he bore his holiness, he might have been led to take precisely the opposite course to the one he intended.[926]

[Sidenote: HIS APPOINTMENT.]

Yet notwithstanding this show of indignation, had it not been for the outbreak of the iconoclasts, it is not improbable that the king might still have continued to procrastinate, relying on his favorite maxim, that "Time and himself were a match for any other two."[927] But the event which caused such a sensation throughout Christendom roused every feeling of indignation in the royal bosom,--and this from the insult offered to the crown as well as to the Church. Contrary to his wont, the king expressed himself with so much warmth on the subject, and so openly, that the most sceptical began at last to believe that the long talked of visit was at hand. The only doubt was as to the manner in which it should be made; whether the king should march at the head of an army, or attended only by so much of a retinue as was demanded by his royal state.

The question was warmly discussed in the council. Ruy Gomez, the courtly favorite of Philip, was for the latter alternative. A civil war he deprecated, as bringing ruin even to the victor.[928] Clemency was the best attribute of a sovereign, and the people of Flanders were a generous race, more likely to be overcome by kindness than by arms.[929] In these liberal and humane views the prince of Eboli was supported by the politic secretary, Antonio Perez, and by the duke of Feria, formerly ambassador to London, a man who to polished manners united a most insinuating eloquence.

But very different opinions, as might be expected, were advanced by the duke of Alva. The system of indulgence, he said, had been that followed by the regent, and its fruits were visible. The weeds of heresy were not to be extirpated by a gentle hand; and his majesty should deal with his rebellious vassals as Charles the Fifth had dealt with their rebel fathers at Ghent.[930] These stern views received support from the Cardinal Espinosa, who held the office of president of the council, as well as of grand inquisitor, and who doubtless thought the insult offered to the Inquisition not the least of the offences to be charged on the Reformers.

Each of the great leaders recommended the measures most congenial with his own character, and which, had they been adopted, would probably have required his own services to carry them into execution. Had the pacific course been taken, Feria, or more probably Ruy Gomez, would have been intrusted with the direction of affairs. Indeed, Montigny and Bergen, still detained in reluctant captivity at Madrid, strongly urged the king to send the prince of Eboli, as a man, who, by his popular manners and known discretion, would be most likely to reconcile opposite factions.[931] Were violent measures, on the other hand, to be adopted, to whom could they be so well intrusted as to the duke himself, the most experienced captain of his time?

The king, it is said, contrary to his custom, was present at the meeting of the council, and listened to the debate. He did not intimate his opinion. But it might be conjectured to which side he was most likely to lean, from his habitual preference for coercive measures.[932]

Philip came to a decision sooner than usual. In a few days he summoned the duke, and told him that he had resolved to send him forthwith, at the head of an army, to the Netherlands. It was only, however, to prepare the way for his own coming, which would take place as soon as the country was in a state sufficiently settled to receive him.

All was now alive with the business of preparation in Castile. Levies were raised throughout the country. Such was the zeal displayed, that even the Inquisition and the clergy advanced a considerable sum towards defraying the expenses of an expedition which they seemed to regard in the light of a crusade.[933] Magazines of provisions were ordered to be established at regular stations on the proposed line of march. Orders were sent, that the old Spanish garrisons in Lombardy, Naples, Sicily, and Sardinia, should be transported to the place of rendezvous in Piedmont, to await the coming of the duke, who would supply their places with the fresh recruits brought with him from Castile.

Philip meanwhile constantly proclaimed that Alva's departure was only the herald of his own. He wrote this to Margaret, assuring her of his purpose to go by water, and directing her to have a squadron of eight vessels in readiness to convoy him to Zealand, where he proposed to land. The vessels were accordingly equipped. Processions were made, and prayers put up in all the churches, for the prosperous passage of the king. Yet there were some in the Netherlands who remarked that prayers to avert the dangers of the sea were hardly needed by the monarch in his palace at Madrid![934] Many of those about the royal person soon indulged in the same scepticism in regard to the king's sincerity, as week after week passed away, and no arrangements were made for his departure. Among the contradictory rumors at court in respect to the king's intention, the pope's nuncio wrote, it was impossible to get at the truth.[935] It was easy to comprehend the general policy of Philip, but impossible to divine the particular plans by which, it was to be carried out. If such was the veil which hid the monarch's purposes even from the eyes of those who had nearest access to his person, how can we hope at this distance of time to penetrate it? Yet the historian of the nineteenth century is admitted to the perusal of many an authentic document revealing the royal purpose, which never came under the eye of the courtier of Madrid.

[Sidenote: HIS APPOINTMENT.]

With all the light thus afforded, it is still difficult to say whether Philip ever was sincere in his professions of visiting the Netherlands. If he were so at any time, it certainly was not after he had decided on the mission of Alva. Philip widely differed from his father in a sluggishness of body which made any undertaking that required physical effort exceedingly irksome. He shrunk from no amount of sedentary labor, would toil from morning till midnight in his closet, like the humblest of his secretaries. But a journey was a great undertaking. After his visits, during his father's lifetime, to England and the Low Countries, he rarely travelled farther, as his graceless son satirically hinted, than from Madrid to Aranjuez, or Madrid to the Escorial. A thing so formidable as an expedition to Flanders, involving a tedious journey through an unfriendly land, or a voyage through seas not less unfriendly, was what, under ordinary circumstances, the king would have never dreamed of.

The present aspect of affairs, moreover, had nothing in it particularly inviting,--especially to a prince of Philip's temper. Never was there a prince more jealous of his authority; and the indignities to which he might have been exposed, in the disorderly condition of the country, might well have come to the aid of his constitutional sluggishness to deter him from the visit.

Under these circumstances, it is not strange that Philip, if he had ever entertained a vague project of a journey to the Netherlands, should have yielded to his natural habit of procrastination. The difficulties of a winter's voyage, the necessity of summoning the cortes and settling the affairs of the kingdom, his own protracted illness, furnished so many apologies for postponing the irksome visit, until the time had passed when such a visit could be effectual.

That he should so strenuously have asserted his purpose of going to the Netherlands may be explained by a desire in some sort to save his credit with those who seemed to think that the present exigency demanded he should go. He may have also thought it politic to keep up the idea of a visit to the Low Countries, in order to curb--as it no doubt had the effect in some degree of curbing--the licence of the people, who believed they were soon to be called to a reckoning for their misdeeds by their prince in person. After all, the conduct of Philip on this occasion, and the motives assigned for his delay in his letters to Margaret, must be allowed to afford a curious coincidence with those ascribed, in circumstances not dissimilar, by the Roman historian to Tiberius.[936]

On the fifteenth of April, 1567, Alva had his last audience of Philip at Aranjuez. He immediately after departed for Carthagena, where a fleet of thirty-six vessels, under the Genoese Admiral Doria, lay riding at anchor to receive him. He was detained some time for the arrival of the troops, and while there he received despatches from court containing his commission of captain-general, and particular instructions as to the course he was to pursue in the Netherlands. They were so particular, that, notwithstanding the broad extent of his powers, the duke wrote to his master complaining of his want of confidence, and declaring that he had never been hampered by instructions so minute, even under the emperor.[937] One who has studied the character of Philip will find no difficulty in believing it.

On the twenty-seventh of April, the fleet weighed anchor; but in consequence of a detention of some days at several places on the Catalan coast, it did not reach the Genoese port of Savona till the seventeenth of the next month. The duke had been ill when he went on board; and his gouty constitution received no benefit from the voyage. Yet he did not decline the hospitalities offered by the Genoese nobles, who vied with the senate in showing the Spanish commander every testimony of respect. At Asti he was waited on by Albuquerque, the Milanese viceroy, and by ambassadors from different Italian provinces, eager to pay homage to the military representative of the Spanish monarch. But the gout under which Alva labored was now aggravated by an attack of tertian ague, and for a week or more he was confined to his bed.

Meanwhile the troops had assembled at the appointed rendezvous; and the duke, as soon as he had got the better of his disorder, made haste to review them. They amounted in all to about ten thousand men, of whom less than thirteen hundred were cavalry. But though small in amount, it was a picked body of troops, such as was hardly to be matched in Europe. The infantry, in particular, were mostly Spaniards,--veterans who had been accustomed to victory under the banner of Charles the Fifth, and many of them trained to war under the eye of Alva himself. He preferred such a body, compact and well disciplined as it was, to one which, unwieldy from its size, would have been less fitted for a rapid march across the mountains.[938]

[Sidenote: HIS REMARKABLE MARCH.]

Besides those of the common file, there were many gentlemen and cavaliers of note, who, weary of repose, came as volunteers to gather fresh laurels under so renowned a chief as the duke of Alva. Among these was Vitelli, marquis of Cetona, a Florentine soldier of high repute in his profession, but who, though now embarked in what might be called a war of religion, was held so indifferent to religion of any kind, that a whimsical epitaph on the sceptic denies him the possession of a soul.[939] Another of these volunteers was Mondragone, a veteran of Charles the Fifth, whose character for chivalrous exploit was unstained by those deeds of cruelty and rapine which were so often the reproach of the cavalier of the sixteenth century. The duties of the commissariat,

## particularly difficult in a campaign like the present, were intrusted to

an experienced Spanish officer named Ibarra. To the duke of Savoy Alva was indebted for an eminent engineer named Paciotti, whose services proved of great importance in the construction of fortresses in the Netherlands. Alva had also brought with him his two sons, Frederic and Ferdinand de Toledo,--the latter an illegitimate child, for whom the father showed as much affection as it was in his rugged nature to feel for any one. To Ferdinand was given the command of the cavalry, composed chiefly of Italians.[940]

Having reviewed his forces, the duke formed them into three divisions. This he did in order to provide the more easily for their subsistence on his long and toilsome journey. The divisions were to be separated from one another by a day's march; so that each would take up at night the same quarters which had been occupied by the preceding division on the night before. Alva himself led the van.[941]

He dispensed with artillery, not willing to embarrass his movements in his passage across the mountains. But he employed what was then a novelty in war. Each company of foot was flanked by a body of soldiers, carrying heavy muskets with rests attached to them. This sort of fire-arms, from their cumbrous nature, had hitherto been used only in the defence of fortresses. But with these portable rests, they were found efficient for field service, and as such came into general use after this period.[942] Their introduction by Alva may be regarded, therefore, as an event of some importance in the history of military art.

The route that Alva proposed to take was that over Mount Cenis, the same, according to tradition, by which Hannibal crossed the great barrier some eighteen centuries before.[943] If less formidable than in the days of the Carthaginian, it was far from being the practicable route so easily traversed, whether by trooper or tourist, at the present day. Steep rocky heights, shaggy with forests, where the snows of winter still lingered in the midst of June; fathomless ravines, choked up with the _débris_ washed down by the mountain torrent; paths scarcely worn by the hunter and his game, affording a precarious footing on the edge of giddy precipices; long and intricate defiles, where a handful of men might hold an army at bay, and from the surrounding heights roll down ruin on their heads;--these were the obstacles which Alva and his followers had to encounter, as they threaded their toilsome way through a country where the natives bore no friendly disposition to the Spaniards.

Their route lay at no great distance from Geneva, that stronghold of the Reformers; and Pius the Fifth would have persuaded the duke to turn from his course, and exterminate this "nest of devils and apostates,"[944]--as the Christian father was pleased to term them. The people of Geneva, greatly alarmed at the prospect of an invasion, applied to their Huguenot brethren for aid. The prince of Condé and the Admiral Coligni--the leaders of that party--offered their services to the French monarch to raise fifty thousand men, fall upon his old enemies, the Spaniards, and cut them off in the passes of the mountains. But Charles the Ninth readily understood the drift of this proposal. Though he bore little love to the Spaniards, he bore still less to the Reformers. He therefore declined this offer of the Huguenot chiefs, adding that he was able to protect France without their assistance.[945] The Genevans were accordingly obliged to stand to their own defence, though they gathered confidence from the promised support of their countrymen of Berne; and the whole array of these brave mountaineers was in arms, ready to repel any assault of the Spaniards on their own territory or on that of their allies, in their passage through the country. But this was unnecessary. Though Alva passed within six leagues of Geneva, and the request of the pontiff was warmly seconded by the duke of Savoy, the Spanish general did not deem it prudent to comply with it, declaring that his commission extended no further than to the Netherlands. Without turning to the right or to the left he held on, therefore, straight towards the mark, anxious only to extricate himself as speedily as possible from the perilous passes where he might be taken at so obvious disadvantage by an enemy.

Yet such were the difficulties he had to encounter, that a fortnight elapsed before he was able to set foot on the friendly plains of Burgundy,--that part of the ancient duchy which acknowledged the authority of Spain. Here he received the welcome addition to his ranks of four hundred horse, the flower of the Burgundian chivalry. On his way across the country he was accompanied by a French army of observation, some six thousand strong, which moved in a parallel direction, at the distance of six or seven leagues only from the line of march pursued by the Spaniards,--though without offering them any molestation.

[Sidenote: HE ARRIVES AT BRUSSELS.]

Soon after entering Lorraine, Alva was met by the duke of that province, who seemed desirous to show him every respect, and entertained him with princely hospitality. After a brief detention, the Spanish general resumed his journey, and on the 8th of August crossed the frontiers of the Netherlands.[946]

His long and toilsome march had been accomplished without an untoward accident, and with scarcely a disorderly act on the part of the soldiers. No man's property had been plundered. No peasant's hut had been violated. The cattle had been allowed to graze unmolested in the fields, and the flocks to wander in safety over their mountain pastures. One instance only to the contrary is mentioned,--that of three troopers, who carried off one or two straggling sheep as the army was passing through Lorraine. But they were soon called to a heavy reckoning for their transgression. Alva, on being informed of the fact, sentenced them all to the gallows. At the intercession of the duke of Lorraine, the sentence was so far mitigated by the Spanish commander, that one only of the three, selected by lot, was finally executed.[947]

The admirable discipline maintained among Alva's soldiers was the more conspicuous in an age when the name of soldier was synonymous with that of marauder. It mattered little whether it were a friendly country or that of a foe through which lay the line of march. The defenceless peasant was everywhere the prey of the warrior; and the general winked at the outrages of his followers, as the best means of settling their arrears.

What made the subordination of the troops, in the present instance, still more worthy of notice, was the great number of camp followers, especially courtesans, who hung on the skirts of the army. These latter mustered in such force, that they were divided into battalions and companies, marching each under its own banner, and subjected to a sort of military organization, like the men.[948] The duke seems to have been as careless of the morals of his soldiers as he was careful of their discipline; perhaps willing by his laxity in the one to compensate for his severity in the other.

It was of the last importance to Alva that his soldiers should commit no trespass, nor entangle him in a quarrel with the dangerous people through the midst of whom he was to pass; and who, from their superior knowledge of the country, as well as their numbers, could so easily overpower him. Fortunately, he had received such intimations before his departure as put him on his guard. The result was, that he obtained such a mastery over his followers, and enforced so perfect a discipline, as excited the general admiration of his contemporaries, and made his march to the Low Countries one of the most memorable events of the period.[949]

At Thionville the duke was waited on by Barlaimont and Noircarmes, who came to offer the salutations of the regent, and at the same time to request to see his powers. At the same place, and on the way to the capital, the duke was met by several of the Flemish nobility, who came to pay their respects to him; among the rest, Egmont, attended by forty of his retainers. On his entering Alva's presence, the duke exclaimed to one of his officers, "Here comes a great heretic!" The words were overheard by Egmont, who hesitated a moment, naturally disconcerted by what would have served as an effectual warning to any other man. But Alva made haste to efface the impression caused by his heedless exclamation, receiving Egmont with so much cordiality as reassured the infatuated nobleman, who, regarding the words as a jest, before his departure presented the duke with two beautiful horses.--Such is the rather singular story which comes down to us on what must be admitted to be respectable authority.[950]

Soon after he had entered the country, the duke detached the greater part of his forces to garrison some of the principal cities, and relieve the Walloon troops on duty there, less to be trusted than his Spanish veterans. With the Milanese brigade he took the road to Brussels, which he entered on the twenty-second of August. His cavalry he established at ten leagues' distance from the capital, and the infantry he lodged in the suburbs. Far from being greeted by acclamations, no one came out to welcome him as he entered the city, which seemed like a place deserted. He went straight to the palace, to offer his homage to the regent. An altercation took place on the threshold between his halberdiers and Margaret's body-guard of archers, who disputed the entrance of the Spanish soldiers. The duke himself was conducted to the bed-chamber of the duchess, where she was in the habit of giving audience. She was standing, with a few Flemish nobles by her side; and she remained in that position, without stirring a single step to receive her visitor. Both parties continued standing during the interview, which lasted half an hour; the duke during the greater part of the time with his hat in his hand, although Margaret requested him to be covered. The curious spectators of this conference amused themselves by contrasting the courteous and even deferential manners of the haughty Spaniard with the chilling reserve and stately demeanor of the duchess.[951] At the close of the interview Alva withdrew to his own quarters at Culemborg House,--the place, it will be remembered, where the Gueux held their memorable banquet on their visit to Brussels.

[Sidenote: MARGARET DISGUSTED.]

The following morning, at the request of the council of state, the duke of Alva furnished that body with a copy of his commission. By this he was invested with the title of captain-general, and in that capacity was to exercise supreme control in all military affairs.[952] By another commission, dated two months later, these powers were greatly enlarged. The country was declared in a state of rebellion; and, as milder means had failed to bring it to obedience, it was necessary to resort to arms. The duke was therefore commanded to levy war on the refractory people, and reduce them to submission. He was moreover to inquire into the causes of the recent troubles, and bring the suspected parties to trial, with full authority to punish or to pardon as he might judge best for the public weal.[953] Finally, a third commission, of more startling import than the two preceding, and which, indeed, might seem to supersede them altogether, was dated on the first of March, 1567. In the former instruments the duke was so far required to act in subordination to the regent, that her authority was declared to be unimpaired. But by virtue of this last commission he was invested with supreme control in civil as well as military affairs; and persons of every degree, including the regent herself, were enjoined to render obedience to his commands, as to those of the king.[954] Such a commission, which placed the government of the country in the hands of Alva, was equivalent to a dismissal of Margaret. The title of "regent," which still remained to her, was an empty mockery; nor could it be thought that she would be content to retain a barren sceptre in the country over which she had so long ruled.

It is curious to observe the successive steps by which Philip had raised Alva from the rank of captain-general of the army to supreme authority in the country. It would seem as if the king were too tenacious of power readily to part with it; and that it was only by successive efforts, as the conviction of the necessity of such a step pressed more and more on his mind, that he determined to lodge the government in the hands of Alva.

Whether the duke acquainted the council with the full extent of his powers, or, as seems more probable, communicated to that body only his first two commissions, it is impossible to say. At all events, the members do not appear to have been prepared for the exhibition of powers so extensive, and which, even in the second of the commissions, transcended those exercised by the regent herself. A consciousness that they did so had led Philip, in more than one instance, to qualify the language of the instrument, in such a manner as not to rouse the jealousy of his sister,--an artifice so obvious, that it probably produced a contrary effect. At any rate, Margaret did not affect to conceal her disgust, but talked openly of the affront put on her by the king, and avowed her determination to throw up the government.[955]

She gave little attention to business, passing most of her days in hunting, of which masculine sport she was excessively fond. She even threatened to amuse herself with journeying about from place to place, leaving public affairs to take care of themselves, till she should receive the king's permission to retire.[956] From this indulgence of her spleen she was dissuaded by her secretary, Armenteros, who, shifting his sails to suit the breeze, showed, soon after Alva's coming, his intention to propitiate the new governor. There were others of Margaret's adherents less accommodating. Some high in office intimated very plainly their discontent at the presence of the Spaniards, from which they boded only calamity to the country.[957] Margaret's confessor, in a sermon preached before the regent, did not scruple to denounce the Spaniards as so many "knaves, traitors, and ravishers."[958] And although the remonstrance of the loyal Armenteros induced the duchess to send back the honest man to his convent, it was plain, from the warm terms in which she commended the preacher, that she was far from being displeased with his discourse.

The duke of Alva cared little for the hatred of the Flemish lords.[959] But he felt otherwise towards the regent. He would willingly have soothed her irritation; and he bent his haughty spirit to show, in spite of her coldness, a deference in his manner that must have done some violence to his nature. As a mark of respect, he proposed at once to pay her another visit, and in great state, as suited her rank. But Margaret, feigning or feeling herself too ill to receive him, declined his visit for some days, and at last, perhaps to mortify him the more, vouchsafed him only a private audience in her own apartment.

Yet at this interview she showed more condescension than before, and even went so far as to assure the duke that there was no one whose appointment would have been more acceptable to her.[960] She followed this, by bluntly demanding why he had been sent at all. Alva replied, that, as she had often intimated her desire for a more efficient military force, he had come to aid her in the execution of her measures, and to restore peace to the country before the arrival of his majesty.[961]--The answer could hardly have pleased the duchess, who doubtless considered she had done that without his aid, already.

[Sidenote: MARGARET DISGUSTED.]

The discourse fell upon the mode of quartering the troops. Alva proposed to introduce a Spanish garrison into Brussels. To this Margaret objected with great energy. But the duke on this point was inflexible. Brussels was the royal residence, and the quiet of the city could only be secured by a garrison. "If people murmur," he concluded, "you can tell them I am a headstrong man, bent on having my own way. I am willing to take all the odium of the measure on myself."[962] Thus thwarted, and made to feel her inferiority when any question of real power was involved, Margaret felt the humiliation of her position even more keenly than before. The appointment of Alva had been from the first, as we have seen, a source of mortification to the duchess. In December, 1566, soon after Philip had decided on sending the duke, with the authority of captain-general, to the Low Countries, he announced it in a letter to Margaret. He had been as much perplexed, he said, in the choice of a commander, as she could have been; and it was only at her suggestion of the necessity of some one to take the military command, that he had made such a nomination. Alva was, however, only to prepare the way for him, to assemble a force on the frontier, establish the garrisons, and enforce discipline among the troops till he came.[963] Philip was careful not to alarm his sister by any hint of the extraordinary powers to be conferred on the duke, who thus seemed to be sent only in obedience to her suggestion, and in subordination to her authority.--Margaret knew too well that Alva was not a man to act in subordination to any one. But whatever misgivings she may have had, she hardly betrayed them in her reply to Philip, in the following February, 1567, when she told the king she "was sure he would never be so unjust, and do a thing so prejudicial to the interests of the country, as to transfer to another the powers he had vested in her."[964]

The appointment of Alva may have stimulated the regent to the extraordinary efforts she then made to reduce the country to order. When she had achieved this, she opened her mind more freely to her brother, in a letter dated July 12, 1567. "The name of Alva was so odious in the Netherlands that it was enough to make the whole Spanish nation detested.[965] She could never have imagined that the king would make such an appointment without consulting her." She then, alluding to orders lately received from Madrid, shows extreme repugnance to carry out the stern policy of Philip;[966]--a repugnance, it must be confessed, that seems to rest less on the character of the measures than on the difficulty of their execution.

When the duchess learned that Alva was in Italy, she wrote also to him, hoping at this late hour to arrest his progress by the assurance that the troubles were now at an end, and that his appearance at the head of an army would only serve to renew them. But the duke was preparing for his march across the Alps, and it would have been as easy to stop the avalanche in its descent, as to stay the onward course of this "man of destiny."

The state of Margaret's feelings was shown by the chilling reception she gave the duke on his arrival in Brussels. The extent of his powers, so much beyond what she had imagined, did not tend to soothe the irritation of the regent's temper; and the result of the subsequent interview filled up the measure of her indignation. However forms might be respected, it was clear the power had passed into other hands. She wrote at once to Philip, requesting, or rather requiring, his leave to withdraw without delay from the country. "If he had really felt the concern he professed for her welfare and reputation, he would have allowed her to quit the government before being brought into rivalry with a man like the duke of Alva, who took his own course in everything, without the least regard to her. It afflicted her to the bottom of her soul to have been thus treated by the king."[967]

It may have given some satisfaction to Margaret, that in her feelings towards the duke she had the entire sympathy of the nation. In earlier days, in the time of Charles the Fifth, Alva had passed some time both in Germany and in the Netherlands, and had left there no favorable impression of his character. In the former country, indeed, his haughty deportment on a question of etiquette had caused some embarrassment to his master. Alva insisted on the strange privilege of the Castilian grandee to wear his hat in the presence of his sovereign. The German nobles, scandalized by this pretension in a subject, asserted that their order had as good a right to it as the Spaniards. It was not without difficulty that the proud duke was content to waive the contested privilege till his return to Spain.[968]

Another anecdote of Alva had left a still more unfavorable impression of his character. He had accompanied Charles on his memorable visit to Ghent, on occasion of its rebellion. The emperor asked the duke's counsel as to the manner in which he should deal with his refractory capital. Alva instantly answered, "Raze it to the ground!" Charles, without replying, took the duke with him to the battlements of the castle; and as their eyes wandered over the beautiful city spread out far and wide below, the emperor asked him, with a pun on the French name of Ghent (_Gand_), how many Spanish hides it would take to make such a _glove_ (_gant_). Alva, who saw his master's displeasure, received the rebuke in silence. The story, whether true or not, was current among the people of Flanders, on whom it produced its effect.[969]

Alva was now sixty years old. It was not likely that age had softened the asperity of his nature. He had, as might be expected, ever shown himself the uncompromising enemy of the party of reform in the Low Countries. He had opposed the concession made to the nation by the recall of Granvelle. The only concessions he recommended to Philip were in order to lull the suspicions of the great lords, till he could bring them to a bloody reckoning for their misdeeds.[970] The general drift of his policy was perfectly understood in the Netherlands, and the duchess had not exaggerated when she dwelt on the detestation in which he was held by the people.

His course on his arrival was not such as to diminish the fears of the nation. His first act was to substitute in the great towns his own troops, men who knew no law but the will of their chief, for the Walloon garrisons, who might naturally have some sympathy with their countrymen. His next was to construct some fortresses, under the direction of one of the ablest engineers in Europe. The hour had come when, in the language of the prince of Orange, his countrymen were to be bridled by the Spaniard.

[Sidenote: POLICY OF THE DUKE.]

The conduct of Alva's soldiers underwent an ominous change. Instead of the discipline observed on the march, they now indulged in the most reckless licence. "One hears everywhere," writes a Fleming of the time, "of the oppressions of the Spaniards. Confiscation is going on to the right and left. If a man has anything to lose, they set him down at once as a heretic."[971] If the writer may be thought to have borrowed something from his fears,[972] it cannot be doubted that the panic was general in the country. Men emigrated by thousands and tens of thousands, carrying with them to other lands the arts and manufactures which had so long been the boast and the source of prosperity of the Netherlands.[973] Those who remained were filled with a dismal apprehension,--a boding of coming evil, as they beheld the heavens darkening around them, and the signs of the tempest at hand.

A still deeper gloom lay upon Brussels, once the gayest city in the Netherlands,--now the residence of Alva. All business was suspended. Places of public resort were unfrequented. The streets were silent and deserted. Several of the nobles and wealthier citizens had gone to their estates in the country, to watch there the aspect of events.[974] Most of the courtiers who remained--the gilded insects that loved the sunshine--had left the regent's palace, and gone to pay their homage to her rival at Culemborg House. There everything went merrily as in the gayest time of Brussels. For the duke strove, by brilliant entertainments and festivities, to amuse the nobles and dissipate the gloom of the capital.[975]

In all this Alva had a deeper motive than met the public eye. He was carrying out the policy which he had recommended to Philip. By courteous and conciliatory manners he hoped to draw around him the great nobles, especially such as had been at all mixed up with the late revolutionary movements. Of these, Egmont was still at Brussels; but Hoorne had withdrawn to his estates at Weert.[976] Hoogstraten was in Germany with the prince of Orange. As to the latter, Alva, as he wrote to the king, could not flatter himself with the hope of his return.[977]

The duke and his son Ferdinand both wrote to Count Hoorne in the most friendly terms, inviting him to come to Brussels.[978] But this distrustful nobleman still kept aloof. Alva, in a conversation with the count's secretary, expressed the warmest solicitude for the health of his master. He had always been his friend, he said, and had seen with infinite regret that the count's services were no better appreciated by the king.[979] But Philip was a good prince, and if slow to recompense, the count would find him not ungrateful. Could the duke but see the count, he had that to say which would content him. He would find he was not forgotten by his friends.[980] This last assurance had a terrible significance. Hoorne yielded at length to an invitation couched in terms so flattering. With Hoogstraten, Alva was not so fortunate. His good genius, or the counsel of Orange, saved him from the snare, and kept him in Germany.[981]

Having nothing further to gain by delay, Alva determined to proceed at once to the execution of his scheme. On the ninth of September the council of state was summoned to meet at Culemborg House. Egmont and Hoorne were present; and two or three of the officers, among them Paciotti, the engineer, were invited to discuss a plan of fortification for some of the Flemish cities. In the mean time, strong guards had been posted at all the avenues of the house, and cavalry drawn together from the country and established in the suburbs.

The duke prolonged the meeting until information was privately communicated to him of the arrest of Backerzele, Egmont's secretary, and Van Stralen, the burgomaster of Antwerp. The former was a person of great political sagacity, and deep in the confidence of Egmont; the latter, the friend of Orange, with whom he was still in constant correspondence. The arrest of Backerzele, who resided in Brussels, was made without difficulty, and possession was taken of his papers. Van Stralen was surrounded by a body of horse, as he was driving out of Antwerp in his carriage; and both of the unfortunate gentlemen were brought prisoners to Culemborg House.

[Sidenote: ARREST OF EGMONT AND HOORNE.]

As soon as these tidings were conveyed to Alva, he broke up the meeting of the council. Then, entering into conversation with Egmont, he strolled with him through the adjoining rooms, in one of which was a small body of soldiers. As the two nobles entered the apartment, Sancho Davila, the captain of the duke's guard, went up to Egmont, and in the king's name demanded his sword, telling him at the same time he was his prisoner.[982] The count, astounded by the proceeding, and seeing himself surrounded by soldiers, made no attempt at resistance, but calmly, and with much dignity in his manner, gave up his sword, saying at the same time, "It has done the king service more than once."[983] And well might he say so; for with that sword he had won the fields of Gravelines and St. Quentin.[984]

Hoorne fell into a similar ambuscade, in another part of the palace, whither he was drawn while conversing with the duke's son Ferdinand de Toledo, who, according to his father's account, had the whole merit of arranging this little drama.[985] Neither did the admiral make any resistance; but, on learning Egmont's fate, yielded himself up, saying "he had no right to expect to fare better than his friend."[986]

It now became a question as to the disposal of the prisoners. Culemborg House was clearly no fitting place for their confinement. Alva caused several castles in the neighborhood of Brussels to be examined, but they were judged insecure. He finally decided on Ghent. The strong fortress of this city was held by one of Egmont's own partisans; but an order was obtained from the count requiring him to deliver up the keys into the hands of Ulloa, one of Alva's most trusted captains, who, at the head of a corps of Spanish veterans, marched to Ghent, and relieved the Walloon garrison of their charge. Ulloa gave proof of his vigilance, immediately on his arrival, by seizing a heavy wagon loaded with valuables belonging to Egmont, as it was leaving the castle gate.[987]

Having completed these arrangements, the duke lost no time in sending the two lords, under a strong military escort, to Ghent. Two companies of mounted arquebusiers rode in the front. A regiment of Spanish infantry, which formed the centre, guarded the prisoners; one of whom, Egmont, was borne in a litter carried by mules, while Hoorne was in his own carriage. The rear was brought up by three companies of light horse.

Under this strong guard the unfortunate nobles were conducted through the province where Egmont had lately ruled "with an authority," writes Alva's secretary, "greater even than that of the king."[988] But no attempt was made at a rescue; and as the procession entered the gates of Ghent, where Egmont's popularity was equal to his power, the people gazed in stupefied silence on the stern array that was conducting their lord to the place of his confinement.[989]

The arrest of Egmont and Hoorne was known, in a few hours after it took place, to every inhabitant of Brussels; and the tidings soon spread to the furthest parts of the country. "The imprisonment of the lords," writes Alva to the king, "has caused no disturbance. The tranquillity is such that your majesty would hardly credit it."[990] True; but the tranquillity was that of a man stunned by a heavy blow. If murmurs were not loud, however, they were deep. Men mourned over the credulity of the two counts, who had so blindly fallen into the snare, and congratulated one another on the forecast of the prince of Orange, who might one day have the power to avenge them.[991] The event gave a new spur to emigration. In the space of a few weeks no loss than twenty thousand persons are said to have fled the country.[992] And the exiles were not altogether drawn from the humbler ranks; for no one, however high, could feel secure when he saw the blow aimed at men like Egmont and Hoorne, the former of whom, if he had given some cause of distrust, had long since made his peace with the government.

Count Mansfeldt made haste to send his son out of the country, lest the sympathy he had once shown for the confederates, notwithstanding his recent change of opinion, might draw on him the vengeance of Alva. The old count, whose own loyalty could not be impeached, boldly complained of the arrest of the lords as an infringement on the rights of the _Toison d'Or_, which body alone had cognizance of the causes that concerned their order, intimating, at the same time, his intention to summon a meeting of the members. But he was silenced by Alva, who plainly told him, that, if the chevaliers of the order did meet, and said so much as the _credo_, he would bring them to a heavy reckoning for it. As to the rights of the _Toison_, his majesty has pronounced on them, said the duke, and nothing remains for you but to submit.[993]

The arrest and imprisonment of the two highest nobles in the land, members of the council of state, and that without any communication with her, was an affront to the regent which she could not brook. It was in vain that Alva excused it by saying it had been done by the order of the king, who wished to spare his sister the unpopularity which must attach to such a proceeding. Margaret made no reply. She did not complain. She was too deeply wounded to complain. But she wrote to Philip, asking him to consider "whether it could be advantageous to him, or decorous for her, whom he did not disdain to call his sister, that she should remain longer in a place of which the authority was so much abridged, or rather annihilated."[994] She sent her secretary, Machiavelli, with her despatches, requesting an immediate reply from Philip, and adding that, if it were delayed, she should take silence for assent, and forthwith leave the country.

[Sidenote: THE COUNCIL OF BLOOD.]

The duke of Alva was entirely resigned to the proposed departure of Margaret. However slight the restraint her presence might impose on his conduct, it exacted more deference than was convenient, and compelled him to consult appearances. Now that he had shown his hand, he was willing to play it out boldly to the end. His first step, after the arrest of the lords, was to organize that memorable tribunal for inquiring into the troubles of the country, which has no parallel in history save the revolutionary tribunal of the French republic. The duke did not shrink from assuming the sole responsibility of his measures. He said, "it was better for the king to postpone his visit to the Netherlands, so that his ministers might bear alone the odium of these rigorous acts. When these had been performed, he might come like a gracious prince, dispensing promises and pardon."[995]

This admirable coolness must be referred in part to Alva's consciousness that his policy would receive the unqualified sanction of his master. Indeed, his correspondence shows that all he had done in the Low Countries was in accordance with a plan preconcerted with Philip. The arrest of the Flemish lords, accordingly, gave entire satisfaction at the court of Madrid, where it was looked on as the first great step in the measures of redress. It gave equal contentment to the court of Rome, where it was believed that the root of heresy was to be reached only by the axe of the executioner. Yet there was one person at that court of more penetration than those around him, the old statesman, Granvelle, who, when informed of the arrest of Egmont and Hoorne, inquired if the duke had "also drawn into his net the _Silent one_,"--as the prince of Orange was popularly called. On being answered in the negative, "Then," said the cardinal, "if he has not caught him, he has caught nothing."[996]

##