No More Learning

The latter
possessed the hearts of the people and the confidence of the army,
without which it was utterly impossible to undertake anything effective.
The rest had reckoned with so much certainty upon him that his
unexpected defection rendered the whole meeting nugatory. They
therefore separated without coming to a determination. All who had met
in Dendermonde were expected in the council of state in Brussels; but
Egmont alone repaired thither. The regent wished to sift him on the
subject of this conference, but she could extract nothing further from
him than the production of the letter of Alava, of which he had
purposely taken a copy, and which, with the bitterest reproofs, he laid
before her. At first she changed color at sight of it, but quickly
recovering herself, she boldly declared that it was a forgery. "How can
this letter," she said, "really come from Alava, when I miss none? And
would he who pretends to have intercepted it have spared the other
letters? Nay, how can it be true, when not a single packet has
miscarried, nor a single despatch failed to come to hand? How, too,
can it be thought likely that the king would have made Alava master
of a secret which he has not communicated even to me? "




CIVIL WAR

1566. Meanwhile the regent hastened to take advantage of the schism
amongst the nobles to complete the ruin of the league, which was already
tottering under the weight of internal dissensions. Without loss of
time she drew from Germany the troops which Duke Eric of Brunswick was
holding in readiness, augmented the cavalry, and raised five regiments
of Walloons, the command of which she gave to Counts Mansfeld, Megen,
Aremberg, and others. To the prince, likewise, she felt it necessary to
confide troops, both because she did not wish, by withholding them
pointedly, to insult him, and also because the provinces of which he was
governor were in urgent need of them; but she took the precaution of
joining with him a Colonel Waldenfinger, who should watch all his steps
and thwart his measures if they appeared dangerous. To Count Egmont the
clergy in Flanders paid a contribution of forty thousand gold florins
for the maintenance of fifteen hundred men, whom he distributed among
the places where danger was most apprehended. Every governor was
ordered to increase his military force, and to provide himself with
ammunition. These energetic preparations, which were making in all
places, left no doubt as to the measures which the regent would adopt in
future. Conscious of her superior force, and certain of this important
support, she now ventured to change her tone, and to employ quite
another language with the rebels. She began to put the most arbitrary
interpretation on the concessions which, through fear and necessity, she
had made to the Protestants, and to restrict all the liberties which she
had tacitly granted them to the mere permission of their preaching. All
other religious exercises and rites, which yet appeared to be involved
in the former privilege, were by new edicts expressly forbidden, and all
offenders in such matters were to be proceeded against as traitors. The
Protestants were permitted to think differently from the ruling church
upon the sacrament, but to receive it differently was a crime; baptism,
marriage, burial, after their fashion, were probibited under pain of
death. It was a cruel mockery to allow them their religion, and forbid
the exercise of it; but this mean artifice of the regent to escape from
the obligation of her pledged word was worthy of the pusillanimity with
which she had submitted to its being extorted from her. She took
advantage of the most trifling innovations and the smallest excesses to
interrupt the preachings; and some of the preachers, under the charge of
having performed their office in places not appointed to them, were
brought to trial, condemned, and executed. On more than one occasion
the regent publicly declared that the confederates had taken unfair
advantage of her fears, and that she did not feel herself bound by an
engagement which had been extorted from her by threats.

Of all the Belgian towns which had participated in the insurrection of
the Iconoclasts none had caused the regent so much alarm as the town of
Valenciennes, in Hainault. In no other was the party of the Calvinists
so powerful, and the spirit of rebellion for which the province of
Hainault had always made itself conspicuous, seemed to dwell here as in
its native place. The propinquity of France, to which, as well by
language as by manners, this town appeared to belong, rather than to the
Netherlands, had from the first led to its being governed with great
mildness and forbearance, which, however, only taught it to feel its own
importance. At the last outbreak of the church-desecrators it had been
on the point of surrendering to the Huguenots, with whom it maintained
the closest understanding. The slightest excitement night renew this
danger. On this account Valenciennes was the first town to which the
regent proposed, as soon as should be in her power, to send a strong
garrison. Philip of Noircarmes, Baron of St. Aldegonde, Governor of
Hainault in the place of the absent Marquis of Bergen, had received this
charge, and now appeared at the head of an army before its walls.
Deputies came to meet him on the part of the magistrate from the town,
to petition against the garrison, because the Protestant citizens, who
were the superior number, had declared against it. Noircarnes
acquainted them with the will of the regent, and gave them the choice
between the garrison or a siege. He assured them that not more than
four squadrons of horse and six companies of foot should be imposed upon
the town; and for this he would give them his son as a hostage. These
terms were laid before the magistrate, who, for his part, was much
inclined to accept them. But Peregrine Le Grange, the preacher, and the
idol of the populace, to whom it was of vital importance to prevent a
submission of which he would inevitably become the victim, appeared at
the head of his followers, and by his powerful eloquence excited the
people to reject the conditions. When their answer was brought to
Noircarmes, contrary to all law of nations, he caused the messengers to
be placed in irons, and carried them away with him as prisoners; he was,
however, by express command of the regent, compelled to set them free
again. The regent, instructed by secret orders from Madrid to exercise
as much forbearance as possible, caused the town to be repeatedly
summoned to receive the garrison; when, however, it obstinately
persisted in its refusal, it was declared by public edict to be in
rebellion, and Noircarmes was authorized to commence the siege in form.
The other provinces were forbidden to assist this rebellious town with
advice, money, or arms. All the property contained in it was
confiscated. In order to let it see the war before it began in earnest,
and to give it time for rational reflection, Noircarmes drew together
troops from all Hainault and Cambray (1566), took possession of St.
Amant, and placed garrisons in all adjacent places.

The line of conduct adopted towards Valenciennes allowed the other towns
which were similarly situated to infer the fate which was intended for
them also, and at once put the whole league in motion. An army of the
Gueux, between three thousand and four thousand strong, which was
hastily collected from the rabble of fugitives, and the remaining bands
of the Iconoclasts, appeared in the territories of Tournay and Lille, in
order to secure these two towns, and to annoy the enemy at Valenciennes.
The commandant of Lille was fortunate enough to maintain that place by
routing a detachment of this army, which, in concert with the Protestant
inhabitants, had made an attempt to get possession of it. At the same
time the army of the Gueux, which was uselessly wasting its time at
Lannoy, was surprised by Noircarmes and almost entirely annihilated.
The few who with desperate courage forced their way through the enemy,
threw themselves into the town of Tournay, which was immediately
summoned by the victor to open its gates and admit a garrison. Its
prompt obedience obtained for it a milder fate. Noircarmes contented
himself with abolishing the Protestant consistory, banishing the
preachers, punishing the leaders of the rebels, and again
re-establishing the Roman Catholic worship, which he found almost
entirely suppressed. After giving it a steadfast Roman Catholic as
governor, and leaving in it a sufficient garrison, he again returned
with his victorious army to Valenciennes to press the siege.

This town, confident in its strength, actively prepared for defence,
firmly resolved to allow things to come to extremes before it
surrendered. The inhabitants had not neglected to furnish themselves
with ammunition and provisions for a long siege; all who could carry
arms (the very artisans not excepted), became soldiers; the houses
before the town, and especially the cloisters, were pulled down, that
the besiegers might not avail themselves of them to cover their attack.
The few adherents of the crown, awed by the multitude, were silent; no
Roman Catholic ventured to stir himself. Anarchy and rebellion had
taken the place of good order, and the fanaticism of a foolhardy priest
gave laws instead of the legal dispensers of justice. The male
population was numerous, their courage confirmed by despair, their
confidence unbounded that the siege would be raised, while their hatred
against the Roman Catholic religion was excited to the highest pitch.
Many had no mercy to expect; all abhorred the general thraldom of an
imperious garrison. Noircarmes, whose army had become formidable
through the reinforcements which streamed to it from all quarters, and
was abundantly furnished with all the requisites for a long blockade,
once more attempted to prevail on the town by gentle means, but in vain.
At last he caused the trenches to be opened and prepared to invest the
place.

In the meanwhile the position of the Protestants had grown as much worse
as that of the regent had improved. The league of the nobles had
gradually melted away to a third of its original number. Some of its
most important defenders, Count Egmont, for instance, had gone over to
the king; the pecuniary contributions which had been so confidently
reckoned upon came in but slowly and scantily; the zeal of the party
began perceptibly to cool, and the close of the fine season made it
necessary to discontinue the public preachings, which, up to this time,
had been continued. These and other reasons combined induced the
declining party to moderate its demands, and to try every legal
expedient before it proceeded to extremities. In a general synod of the
Protestants, which was held for this object in Antwerp, and which was
also attended by some of the confederates, it was resolved to send
deputies to the regent to remonstrate with her upon this breach of
faith, and to remind her of her compact. Brederode undertook this
office, but was obliged to submit to a harsh and disgraceful rebuff, and
was shut out of Brussels. He had now recourse to a written memorial, in
which,--in the name of the whole league, he complained that the duchess
had, by violating her word, falsified in sight of all the Protestants
the security given by the league, in reliance on which all of them had
laid down their arms; that by her insincerity she had undone all the
good which the confederates had labored to effect; that she had sought
to degrade the league in the eyes of the people, had excited discord
among its members, and had even caused many of them to be persecuted as
criminals. He called upon her to recall her late ordinances, which
deprived the Protestants of the free exercise of their religion, but
above all to raise the siege of Valenciennes, to disband the troops
newly enlisted, and ended by assuring her that on these conditions and
these alone the league would be responsible for the general
tranquillity.

To this the regent replied in a tone very different from her previous
moderation. "Who these confederates are who address me in this memorial
is, indeed, a mystery to me. The confederates with whom I had formerly
to do, for ought I know to the contrary, have dispersed. All at least
cannot participate in this statement of grievances, for I myself know of
many, who, satisfied in all their demands, have returned to their duty.
But still, whoever he may be, who without authority and right, and
without name addresses me, he has at least given a very false
interpretation to my word if he asserts that I guaranteed to the
Protestants complete religious liberty. No one can be ignorant how
reluctantly I was induced to permit the preachings in the places where
they had sprung up unauthorized, and this surely cannot be counted for a
concession of freedom in religion. Is it likely that I should have
entertained the idea of protecting these illegal consistories, of
tolerating this state within a state? Could I forget myself so far as
to grant the sanction of law to an objectionable sect; to overturn all
order in the church and in the state, and abominably to blaspheme my
holy religion? Look to him who has given you such permission, but you
must not argue with me. You accuse me of having violated the agreement
which gave you impunity and security. The past I am willing to look
over, but not what may be done in future. No advantage was to be taken
of you on account of the petition of last April, and to the best of my
knowledge nothing of the kind has as yet been done; but whoever again
offends in the same way against the majesty of the king must be ready to
bear the consequences of his crime. In fine, how can you presume to
remind me of an agreement which you have been the first to break? At
whose instigation were the churches plundered, the images of the saints
thrown down, and the towns hurried into rebellion? Who formed alliances
with foreign powers, set on foot illegal enlistments, and collected
unlawful taxes from the subjects of the king? These are the reasons
which have impelled me to draw together my troops, and to increase the
severity of the edicts. Whoever now asks me to lay down my arms cannot
mean well to his country or his king, and if ye value your own lives,
look to it that your own actions acquit you, instead of judging mine. "

All the hopes which the confederates might have entertained of an
amicable adjustment sank with this high-toned declaration. Without
being confident of possessing powerful support, the regent would not,
they argued, employ such language. An army was in the field, the enemy
was before Valenciennes, the members who were the heart of the league
had abandoned it, and the regent required unconditional submission.
Their cause was now so bad that open resistance could not make it worse.
If they gave themselves up defenceless into the hands of their
exasperated sovereign their fate was certain; an appeal to arms could at
least make it a matter of doubt; they, therefore, chose the latter, and
began seriously to take steps for their defence. In order to insure the
assistance of the German Protestants, Louis of Nassau attempted to
persuade the towns of Amsterdam, Antwerp, Tournay, and Valenciennes to
adopt the confession of Augsburg, and in this manner to seal their
alliance with a religious union. But the proposition was not
successful, because the hatred of the Calvinists to the Lutherans
exceeded, if possible, that which they bore to popery. Nassau also
began in earnest to negotiate for supplies from France, the Palatinate,
and Saxony. The Count of Bergen fortified his castles; Brederode threw
himself with a small force into his strong town of Vianne on the Leek,
over which he claimed the rights of sovereignty, and which he hastily
placed in a state of defense, and there awaited a reinforcement from the
league, and the issue of Nassua's negotiations. The flag of war was now
unfurled, everywhere the drum was heard to beat; in all parts troops
were seen on the march, contributions collected, and soldiers enlisted.
The agents of each party often met in the same place, and hardly had the
collectors and recruiting officers of the regent quitted a town when it
had to endure a similar visit from the agents of the league.

From Valenciennes the regent directed her attention to Herzogenbusch,
where the Iconoclasts had lately committed fresh excesses, and the party
of the Protestants had gained a great accession of strength. In order
to prevail on the citizens peaceably to receive a garrison, she sent
thither, as ambassador, the Chancellor Scheiff, from Brabant, with
counsellor Merode of Petersheim, whom she appointed governor of the
town; they were instructed to secure the place by judicious means, and
to exact from the citizens a new oath of allegiance. At the same time
the Count of Megen, who was in the neighborhood with a body of troops,
was ordered to support the two envoys in effecting their commission,
and to afford the means of throwing in a garrison immediately. But
Brederode, who obtained information of these movements in Viane, had
already sent thither one of his creatures, a certain Anton von Bomber,--
a hot Calvinist, but also a brave soldier, in order to raise the courage
of his party, and to frustrate the designs of the regent. This Bomberg
succeeded in getting possession of the letters which the chancellor
brought with him from the duchess, and contrived to substitute in their
place counterfeit ones, which, by their harsh and imperious language,
were calculated to exasperate the minds of the citizens. At the same
time he attempted to throw suspicion on both the ambassadors of the
duchess as having evil designs upon the town. In this he succeeded so
well with the mob that in their mad fury they even laid hands on the
ambassadors and placed them in confinement. He himself, at the head of
eight thousand men, who had adopted him as their leader, advanced
against the Count of Megen, who was moving in order of battle, and gave
him so warm a reception, with some heavy artillery, that he was
compelled to retire without accomplishing his object. The regent now
sent an officer of justice to demand the release of her ambassadors, and
in case of refusal to threaten the place with siege; but Bomberg with
his party surrounded the town hall and forced the magistrate to deliver
to him the key of the town. The messenger of the regent was ridiculed
and dismissed, and an answer sent through him that the treatment of the
prisoners would depend upon Brederode's orders. The herald, who was
remaining outside before the town, now appeared to declare war against
her, which, however, the chancellor prevented.

After his futile attempt on Herzogenhusch the Count of Megen threw
himself into Utrecht in order to prevent the execution of a design which
Count Brederode had formed against that town. As it had suffered much
from the army of the confederates, which was encamped in its immediate
neighborhood, near Viane, it received Megen with open arms as its
protector, and conformed to all the alterations which he made in the
religious worship. Upon this he immediately caused a redoubt to be
thrown up on the bank of the Leek, which would command Viane.
Brederode, not disposed to await his attack, quitted that rendezvous
with the best part of his army and hastened to Amsterdam.

However unprofitably the Prince of Orange appeared to be losing his
time in Antwerp during these operations he was, nevertheless, busily
employed. At his instigation the league had commenced recruiting, and
Brederode had fortified his castles, for which purpose he himself
presented him with three cannons which he had had cast at Utrecht.
His eye watched all the movements of the court, and he kept the league
warned of the towns which were next menaced with attack. But his chief
object appeared to be to get possession of the principal places in the
districts under his own government, to which end he with all his power
secretly assisted Brederode's plans against Utrecht and Amsterdam. The
most important place was the Island of Walcheren, where the king was
expected to land; and he now planned a scheme for the surprise of this
place, the conduct of which was entrusted to one of the confederate
nobles, an intimate friend of the Prince of Orange, John of Marnix,
Baron of Thoulouse, and brother of Philip of Aldegonde.


1567. Thoulouse maintained a secret understanding with the late mayor
of Middleburg, Peter Haak, by which he expected to gain an opportunity
of throwing a garrison into Middleburg and Flushing. The recruiting,
however, for this undertaking, which was set on foot in Antwerp, could
not be carried on so quietly as not to attract the notice of the
magistrate. In order, therefore, to lull the suspicions of the latter,
and at the same time to promote the success of the scheme, the prince
caused the herald by public proclamation to order all foreign soldiers
and strangers who were in the service of the state, or employed in other
business, forthwith to quit the town. He might, say his adversaries, by
closing the gates have easily made himself master of all these suspected
recruits; but be expelled them from the town in order to drive them the
more quickly to the place of their destination. They immediately
embarked on the Scheldt, and sailed down to Rammekens; as, however, a
market-vessel of Antwerp, which ran into Flushing a little before them
had given warning of their design they were forbidden to enter the port.
They found the same difficulty at Arnemuiden, near Middleburg, although
the Protestants in that place exerted themselves to raise an
insurrection in their favor. Thoulouse, therefore, without having
accomplished anything, put about his ships and sailed back down the
Scheldt as far as Osterweel, a quarter of a mile from Antwerp, where he
disembarked his people and encamped on the shore, with the hope of
getting men from Antwerp, and also in order to revive by his presence
the courage of his party, which had been cast down by the proceedings of
the magistrate. By the aid of the Calvinistic clergy, who recruited for
him, his little army increased daily, so that at last he began to be
formidable to the Antwerpians, whose whole territory he laid waste. The
magistrate was for attacking him here with the militia, which, however,
the Prince of Orange successfully opposed by the, pretext that it would
not be prudent to strip the town of soldiers.

Meanwhile the regent had hastily brought together a small army under the
command of Philip of Launoy, which moved from Brussels to Antwerp by
forced marches. At the same time Count Megen managed to keep the army
of the Gueux shut up and employed at Viane, so that it could neither
hear of these movements nor hasten to the assistance of its
confederates. Launoy, on his arrival attacked by surprise the dispersed
crowds, who, little expecting an enemy, had gone out to plunder, and
destroyed them in one terrible carnage. Thoulouse threw himself with
the small remnant of his troops into a country house, which had served
him as his headquarters, and for a long time defended himself with the
courage of despair, until Launoy, finding it impossible to dislodge him,
set fire to the house. The few who escaped the flames fell on the
swords of the enemy or were drowned in the Scheldt. Thoulouse himself
preferred to perish in the flames rather than to fall into the hands of
the enemy. This victory, which swept off more than a thousand of the
enemy, was purchased by the conqueror cheaply enough, for he did not
lose more than two men. Three hundred of the leaguers who surrendered
were cut down without mercy on the spot, as a sally from Antwerp was
momentarily dreaded.

Before the battle actually commenced no anticipation of such an event
had been entertained at Antwerp. The Prince of Orange, who had got
early information of it, had taken the precaution the day before of
causing the bridge which unites the town with Osterweel to be destroyed,
in order, as he gave out, to prevent the Calvinists within the town
going out to join the army of Thoulouse. A more probable motive seems
to have been a fear lest the Catholics should attack the army of the
Gueux general in the rear, or lest Launoy should prove victorious, and
try to force his way into the town. On the same pretext the gates of
the city were also shut by his orders, arnd the inhabitants, who did not
comprehend the meaning of all these movements, fluctuated between
curiosity and alarm, until the sound of artillery from Osterweel
announced to them what there was going on. In clamorous crowds they all
ran to the walls and ramparts, from which, as the wind drove the smoke
from the contending armies, they commanded a full view of the whole
battle. Both armies were so near to the town that they could discern
their banners, and clearly distinguish the voices of the victors and the
vanquished. More terrible even than the battle itself was the spectacle
which this town now presented. Each of the conflicting armies had its
friends and its enemies on the wall. All that went on in the plain
roused on the ramparts exultation or dismay; on the issue of the
conflict the fate of each spectator seemed to depend. Every movement on
the field could be read in the faces of the townsmen; defeat and
triumph, the terror of the conquered, and the fury of the conqueror.
Here a painful but idle wish to support those who are giving way, to
rally those who fly; there an equally futile desire to overtake them,
to slay them, to extirpate them. Now the Gueux fly, and ten thousand
men rejoice; Thoulouse's last place and refuge is in flames, and the
hopes of twenty thousand citizens are consumed with him.

But the first bewilderment of alarm soon gave place to a frantic desire
of revenge. Shrieking aloud, wringing her hands and with dishevelled
hair, the widow of the slain general rushed amidst the crowds to implore
their pity and help. Excited by their favorite preacher, Hermann, the
Calvinists fly to arms, determined to avenge their brethren, or to
perish with them; without reflection, without plan or leader, guided by
nothing but their anguish, their delirium, they rush to the Red Gate of
the city which leads to the field of battle; but there is no egress, the
gate is shut and the foremost of the crowd recoil on those that follow.
Thousands and thousands collect together, a dreadful rush is made to the
Meer Bridge. We are betrayed! we are prisoners! is the general cry.
Destruction to the papists, death to him who has betrayed us! --a sullen
murmur, portentous of a revolt, runs through the multitude. They begin
to suspect that all that has taken place has been set on foot by the
Roman Catholics to destroy the Calvinists. They had slain their
defenders, and they would now fall upon the defenceless. With fatal
speed this suspicion spreads through the whole of Antwerp. Now they
can, they think, understand the past, and they fear something still
worse in the background; a frightful distrust gains possession of every
mind. Each party dreads the other; every one sees an enemy in his
neighbor; the mystery deepens the alarm and horror; a fearful condition
for a populous town, in which every accidental concourse instantly
becomes tumult, every rumor started amongst them becomes a fact, every
small spark a blazing flame, and by the force of numbers and collision
all passions are furiously inflamed. All who bore the name of
Calvinists were roused by this report. Fifteen thousand of them take
possession of the Meer Bridge, and plant heavy artillery upon it, which
they had taken by force from the arsenal; the same thing also happens at
another bridge; their number makes them formidable, the town is in their
hands; to escape an imaginary danger they bring all Antwerp to the brink
of ruin.

Immediately on the commencement of the tumult the Prince of Orange
hastened to the Meer Bridge, where, boldly forcing his way through the
raging crowd, he commanded peace and entreated to be heard. At the
other bridge Count Hogstraten, accompanied by the Burgomaster Strahlen,
made the same attempt; but not possessing a sufficient share either of
eloquence or of popularity to command attention, he referred the
tumultuous crowd to the prince, around whom all Antwerp now furiously
thronged. The gate, he endeavored to explain to them, was shut simply
to keep off the victor, whoever he might be, from the city, which would
otherwise become the prey of an infuriated soldiery. In vain! the
frantic people would not listen, and one more daring than the rest
presented his musket at him, calling him a traitor. With tumultuous
shouts they demanded the key of the Red Gate, which he was ultimately
forced to deliver into the hands of the preacher Hermann. But, he added
with happy presence of mind, they must take heed what they were doing;
in the suburbs six hundred of the enemy's horse were waiting to receive
them. This invention, suggested by the emergency, was not so far
removed from the truth as its author perhaps imagined; for no sooner had
the victorious general perceived the commotion in Antwerp than he caused
his whole cavalry to mount in the hope of being able, under favor of the
disturbance, to break into the town. I, at least, continued the Prince
of Orange, shall secure my own safety in time, and he who follows my
example will save himself much future regret. These words opportunely
spoken and immediately acted upon had their effect. Those who stood
nearest followed him, and were again followed by the next, so that at
last the few who had already hastened out of the city when they saw no
one coming after them lost the desire of coping alone with the six
hundred horse. All accordingly returned to the Meer Bridge, where they
posted watches and videttes, and the night was passed tumultuously under
arms.

The town of Antwerp was now threatened with fearful bloodshed and
pillage. In this pressing emergency Orange assembled an extraordinary
senate, to which were summoned all the best-disposed citizens of the
four nations. If they wished, said he, to repress the violence of the
Calvinists they must oppose them with an army strong enough and prepared
to meet them. It was therefore resolved to arm with speed the Roman
Catholic inhabitants of the town, whether natives, Italians, or
Spaniards, and, if possible, to induce the Lutherans also to join them.
The haughtiness of the Calvinists, who, proud of their wealth and
confident in their numbers, treated every other religious party with
contempt, had long made the Lutherans their enemies, and the mutual
exasperation of these two Protestant churches was even more implacable
than their common hatred of the dominant church. This jealousy the
magistrate had turned to advantage, by making use of one party to curb
the other, and had thus contrived to keep the Calvinists in check, who,
from their numbers and insolence, were most to be feared. With this
view, he had tacitly taken into his protection the Lutherans, as the
weaker and more peaceable party, having moreover invited for them, from
Germany, spiritual teachers, who, by controversial sermons, might keep
up the mutual hatred of the two bodies. He encouraged the Lutherans in
the vain idea that the king thought more favorably of their religious
creed than that of the Calvinists, and exhorted them to be careful how
they damaged their good cause by any understanding with the latter. It
was not, therefore, difficult to bring about, for the moment, a union
with the Roman Catholics and the Lutherans, as its object was to keep
down their detested rivals. At dawn of day an army was opposed to the
Calvinists which was far superior in force to their own. At the head of
this army, the eloquence of Orange had far greater effect, and found far
more attention than on the preceding evening, unbacked by such strong
persuasion. The Calvinists, though in possession of arms and artillery,
yet, alarmed at the superior numbers arrayed against them, were the
first to send envoys, and to treat for an amicable adjustment of
differences, which by the tact and good temper of the Prince of Orange,
he concluded to the satisfaction of all parties. On the proclamation of
this treaty the Spaniards and Italians immediately laid down their arms.
They were followed by the Calvinists, and these again by the Roman
Catholics; last of all the Lutherans disarmed.

Two days and two nights Antwerp had continued in this alarming state.
During the tumult the Roman Catholics had succeeded in placing barrels
of gunpowder under the Meer Bridge, and threatened to blow into the air
the whole army of the Calvinists, who had done the same in other places
to destroy their adversaries. The destruction of the town hung on the
issue of a moment, and nothing but the prince's presence of mind saved
it.

Noircarmes, with his army of Walloons, still lay before Valenciennes,
which, in firm reliance on being relieved by the Gueux, obstinately
refused to listen to all the representations of the regent, and rejected
every idea of surrender. An order of the court had expressly forbidden
the royalist general to press the siege until he should receive
reinforcements from Germany. Whether from forbearance or fear, the king
regarded with abhorrence the violent measure of storming the place, as
necessarily involving the innocent in the fate of the guilty, and
exposing the loyal subject to the same ill-treatment as the rebel. As,
however, the confidence of the besieged augmented daily, and emboldened
by the inactivity of the besiegers, they annoyed him by frequent
sallies, and after burning the cloisters before the town, retired with
the plunder--as the time uselessly lost before this town was put to good
use by the rebels and their allies, Noircarmes besought the duchess to
obtain immediate permission from the king to take it by storm. The
answer arrived more quickly than Philip was ever before wont to reply.
As yet they must be content, simply to make the necessary preparations,
and then to wait awhile to allow terror to have its effect; but if upon
this they did not appear ready to capitulate, the storming might take
place, but, at the same time, with the greatest possible regard for the
lives of the inhabitants. Before the regent allowed Noircarmes to
proceed to this extremity she empowered Count Egmont, with the Duke
Arschot, to treat once more with the rebels amicably. Both conferred
with the deputies of the town, and omitted no argument calculated to
dispel their delusion. They acquainted them with the defeat of
Thoulouse, their sole support, and with the fact that the Count of Megen
had cut off the army of the Gueux from the town, and assured them that
if they had held out so long they owed it entirely to the king's
forbearance. They offered them full pardon for the past; every one was
to be free to prove his innocence before whatever tribunal he should
chose; such as did not wish to avail themselves of this privilege were
to be allowed fourteen days to quit the town with all their effects.
Nothing was required of the townspeople but the admission of the
garrison. To give time to deliberate on these terms an armistice of
three days was granted. When the deputies returned they found their
fellow-citizens less disposed than ever to an accommodation, reports of
new levies by the Gueux having, in the meantime, gained currency.
Thoulouse, it was pretended, had conquered, and was advancing with a
powerful army to relieve the place. Their confidence went so far that
they even ventured to break the armistice, and to fire upon the
besiegers. At last the burgomaster, with difficulty, succeeded in
bringing matters so far towards a peaceful settlement that twelve of the
town counsellors were sent into the camp with the following conditions:
The edict by which Valenciennes had been charged with treason and
declared an enemy to the country was required to be recalled, the
confiscation of their goods revoked, and the prisoners on both sides
restored to liberty; the garrison was not to enter the town before every
one who thought good to do so had placed himself and his property in
security; and a pledge to be given that the inhabitants should not be
molested in any manner, and that their expenses should be paid by the
king.

Noircarmes was so indignant with these conditions that he was almost on
the point of ill-treating the deputies. If they had not come, he told
them, to give up the place, they might return forthwith, lest he should
send them home with their hands tied behind their backs. Upon this the
deputies threw the blame on the obstinacy of the Calvinists, and
entreated him, with tears in their eyes, to keep them in the camp, as
they did not, they said, wish to have anything more to do with their
rebellious townsmen, or to be joined in their fate. They even knelt to
beseech the intercession of Egmont, but Noircarmes remained deaf to all
their entreaties, and the sight of the chains which he ordered to be
brought out drove them reluctantly enough back to Valenciennes.
Necessity, not severity, imposed this harsh procedure upon the general.
The detention of ambassadors had on a former occasion drawn upon him the
reprimand of the duchess; the people in the town would not have failed
to have ascribed the non-appearance of their present deputies to the
same cause as in the former case had detained them. Besides, he was
loath to deprive the town of any out of the small residue of
well-disposed citizens, or to leave it a prey to a blind, foolhardy mob.
Egmont was so mortified at the bad report of his embassy that he the
night following rode round to reconnoitre its fortifications, and
returned well satisfied to have convinced himself that it was no longer
tenable.

Valenciennes stretches down a gentle acclivity into the level plain,
being built on a site as strong as it is delightful. On one side
enclosed by the Scheldt and another smaller river, and on the other
protected by deep ditches, thick walls, and towers, it appears capable
of defying every attack. But Noircarmes had discovered a few points
where neglect had allowed the fosse to be filled almost up to the level
of the natural surface, and of these he determined to avail himself in
storming. He drew together all the scattered corps by which he had
invested the town, and during a tempestuous night carried the suburb of
Berg without the loss of a single man. He then assigned separate points
of attack to the Count of Bossu, the young Charles of Mansfeld, and the
younger Barlaimont, and under a terrible fire, which drove the enemy
from his walls, his troops were moved up with all possible speed. Close
before the town, and opposite the gate under the eyes of the besiegers,
and with very little loss, a battery was thrown up to an equal height
with the fortifications. From this point the town was bombarded with an
unceasing fire for four hours. The Nicolaus tower, on which the
besieged had planted some artillery, was among the first that fell, and
many perished under its ruins. The guns were directed against all the
most conspicuous buildings, and a terrible slaughter was made amongst
the inhabitants. In a few hours their principal works were destroyed,
and in the gate itself so extensive a breach was made that the besieged,
despairing of any longer defending themselves, sent in haste two
trumpeters to entreat a parley. This was granted, but the storm was
continued without intermission. The ambassador entreated Noircarmes to
grant them the same terms which only two days before they had rejected.
But circumstances had now changed, and the victor would hear no more of
conditions. The unceasing fire left the inhabitants no time to repair
the ramparts, which filled the fosse with their debris, and opened many
a breach for the enemy to enter by. Certain of utter destruction, they
surrendered next morning at discretion after a bombardment of
six-and-thirty hours without intermission, and three thousand bombs had
been thrown into the city. Noircarmes marched into the town with his
victorious army under the strictest discipline, and was received by a
crowd of women and children, who went to meet him, carrying green boughs,
and beseeching his pity. All the citizens were immediately disarmed, the
commandant and his son beheaded; thirty-six of the most guilty of the
rebels, among whom were La Grange and another Calvinistic preacher, Guido
de Bresse, atoned for their obstinacy at the gallows; all the municipal
functionaries were deprived of their offices, and the town of all its
privileges. The Roman Catholic worship was immediately restored in full
dignity, and the Protestant abolished. The Bishop of Arras was obliged to
quit his residence in the town, and a strong garrison placed in it to
insure its future obedience.

The fate of Valenciennes, towards which all eyes had been turned, was a
warning to the other towns which had similarly offended. Noircarmes
followed up his victory, and marched immediately against Maestricht,
which surrendered without a blow, and received a garrison. From thence
he marched to Tornhut to awe by his presence the people of Herzogenbusch
and Antwerp. The Gueux in this place, who under the command of Bomberg
had carried all things before them, were now so terrified at his
approach that they quitted the town in haste. Noircarmes was received
without opposition. The ambassadors of the duchess were immediately set
at liberty. A strong garrison was thrown into Tornhut. Cambray also
opened its gates, and joyfully recalled its archbishop, whom the
Calvinists had driven from his see, and who deserved this triumph as
he did not stain his entrance with blood. Ghent, Ypres, and Oudenarde
submitted and received garrisons. Gueldres was now almost entirely
cleared of the rebels and reduced to obedience by the Count of Megen.
In Friesland and Groningen the Count of Aremberg had eventually the same
success; but it was not obtained here so rapidly or so easily, since the
count wanted consistency and firmness, and these warlike republicans
maintained more pertinaciously their privileges, and were greatly
supported by the strength of their position. With the exception of
Holland all the provinces had yielded before the victorious arms of the
duchess. The courage of the disaffected sunk entirely, and nothing was
left to them but flight or submission.




RESIGNATION OF WILLIAM OF ORANGE.

Ever since the establishment of the Guesen league, but more perceptibly
since the outbreak of the Iconoclasts, the spirit of rebellion and
disaffection had spread so rapidly among all classes, parties had become
so blended and confused, that the regent had difficulty in
distinguishing her own adherents, and at last hardly knew on whom to
rely. The lines of demarcation between the loyal and the disaffected
had grown gradually fainter, until at last they almost entirely
vanished. The frequent alterations, too, which she had been obliged to
make in the laws, and which were at most the expedients and suggestions
of the moment, had taken from them their precision and binding force,
and had given full scope to the arbitrary will of every individual whose
office it was to interpret them. And at last, amidst the number and
variety of the interpretations, the spirit was lost and the intention of
the lawgiver baffled. The close connection which in many cases
subsisted between Protestants and Roman Catholics, between Gueux and
Royalists, and which not unfrequently gave them a common interest, led
the latter to avail themselves of the loophole which the vagueness of
the laws left open, and in favor of their Protestant friends and
associates evaded by subtle distinctions all severity in the discharge
of their duties. In their minds it was enough not to be a declared
rebel, not one of the Gueux, or at least not a heretic, to be authorized
to mould their duties to their inclinations, and to set the most
arbitrary limits to their obedience to the king. Feeling themselves
irresponsible, the governors of the provinces, the civil functionaries,
both high and low, the municipal officers, and the military commanders
had all become extremely remiss in their duty, and presuming upon this
impunity showed a pernicious indulgence to the rebels and their
adherents which rendered abortive all the regent's measures of coercion.
This general indifference and corruption of so many servants of the
state had further this injurious result, that it led the turbulent to
reckon on far stronger support than in reality they had cause for, and
to count on their own side all who were but lukewarm adherents of the
court. This way of thinking, erroneous as it was, gave them greater
courage and confidence; it had the same effect as if it had been well
founded; and the uncertain vassals of the king became in consequence
almost as injurious to him as his declared enemies, without at the same
time being liable to the same measures of severity. This was especially
the case with the Prince of Orange, Counts Egmont, Bergen, Hogstraten,
Horn, and several others of the higher nobility. The regent felt the
necessity of bringing these doubtful subjects to an explanation, in
order either to deprive the rebels of a fancied support or to unmask the
enemies of the king. And the latter reason was of the more urgent
moment when being obliged to send an army into the field it was of the
utmost importance to entrust the command of the troops to none but those
of whose fidelity she was fully assured. She caused, therefore, an oath
to be drawn up which bound all who took it to advance the Roman Catholic
faith, to pursue and punish the Iconoclasts, and to help by every means
in their power in extirpating all kinds of heresy. It also pledged them
to treat the king's enemies as their own, and to serve without
distinction against all whom the regent in the king's name should point
out. By this oath she did not hope so much to test their sincerity, and
still less to secure them, as rather to gain a pretext for removing the
suspected parties if they declined to take it, and for wresting from
their hands a power which they abused, or a legitimate ground for
punishing them if they took it and broke it. This oath was exacted from
all Knights of the Fleece, all civil functionaries and magistrates, all
officers of the army--from every one in short who held any appointment
in the state. Count Mansfeld was the first who publicly took it in the
council of state at Brussels; his example was followed by the Duke of
Arschot, Counts Egmont, Megen, and Barlaimont. Hogstraten and Horn
endeavored to evade the necessity. The former was offended at a proof
of distrust which shortly before the regent had given him. Under the
pretext that Malines could not safely be left any longer without its
governor, but that the presence of the count was no less necessary in
Antwerp, she had taken from him that province and given it to another
whose fidelity she could better reckon upon. Hostraten expressed his
thanks that she had been pleased to release him from one of his burdens,
adding that she would complete the obligation if she would relieve him
from the other also. True to his determination Count Horn was living
on one of his estates in the strong town of Weerdt, having retired
altogether from public affairs. Having quitted the service of the
state, he owed, he thought, nothing more either to the republic or to
the king, and declined the oath, which in his case appears at last to
have been waived.

The Count of Brederode was left the choice of either taking the
prescribed oath or resigning the command of his squadron of cavalry.
After many fruitless attempts to evade the alternative, on the plea that
he did not hold office in the state, he at last resolved upon the latter
course, and thereby escaped all risk of perjuring himself.

Vain were all the attempts to prevail on the Prince of Orange to take
the oath, who, from the suspicion which had long attached to him,
required more than any other this purification; and from whom the great
power which it had been necessary to place in his hands fully justified
the regent in exacting it. It was not, however, advisable to proceed
against him with the laconic brevity adopted towards Brederode and the
like; on the other hand, the voluntary resignation of all his offices,
which he tendered, did not meet the object of the regent, who foresaw
clearly enough how really dangerous he would become, as soon as he
should feel himself independent, and be no longer checked by any
external considerations of character or duty in the prosecution of his
secret designs. But ever since the consultation in Dendermonde the
Prince of Orange had made up his mind to quit the service of the King of
Spain on the first favorable opportunity, and till better days to leave
the country itself. A very disheartening experience had taught him how
uncertain are hopes built on the multitude, and how quickly their zeal
is cooled by the necessity of fulfilling its lofty promises. An army
was already in the field, and a far stronger one was, he knew, on its
road, under the command of the Duke of Alva. The time for remonstrances
was past; it was only at the head of an army that an advantageous treaty
could now be concluded with the regent, and by preventing the entrance
of the Spanish general. But now where was he to raise this army, in
want as he was of money, the sinews of warfare, since the Protestants
had retracted their boastful promises and deserted him in this pressing
emergency?

[How valiant the wish, and how sorry the deed was, is proved by the
following instance amongst others. Some friends of the national
liberty, Roman Catholics as well as Protestants, had solemnly
engaged in Amsterdam to subscribe to a common fund the hundredth
penny of their estates, until a sum of eleven thousand florins
should be collected, which was to be devoted to the common cause
and interests. An alms-box, protected by three locks, was prepared
for the reception of these contributions. After the expiration of
the prescribed period it was opened, and a sum was found amounting
to seven hundred florins, which was given to the hostess of the
Count of Brederode, in part payment of his unliquidated score.
Univ. Hist. of the N. , vol. 3. ]

Religious jealousy and hatred, moreover, separated the two Protestant
churches, and stood in the way of every salutary combination against
the common enemy of their faith. The rejection of the Confession of
Augsburg by the Calvinists had exasperated all the Protestant princes of
Germany, so that no support was to be looked for from the empire. With
Count Egmont the excellent army of Walloons was also lost to the cause,
for they followed with blind devotion the fortunes of their general, who
had taught them at St. Quentin and Gravelines to be invincible. And
again, the outrages which the Iconoclasts had perpetrated on the
churches and convents had estranged from the league the numerous,
wealthy, and powerful class of the established clergy, who, before this
unlucky episode, were already more than half gained over to it; while,
by her intrigues, the regent daily contrived to deprive the league
itself of some one or other of its most influential members.

All these considerations combined induced the prince to postpone to
a more favorable season a project for which the present juncture was
little suited, and to leave a country where his longer stay could not
effect any advantage for it, but must bring certain destruction on
himself. After intelligence gleaned from so many quarters, after so
many proofs of distrust, so many warnings from Madrid, he could be no
longer doubtful of the sentiments of Philip towards him. If even he
had any doubt, his uncertainty would soon have been dispelled by the
formidable armament which was preparing in Spain, and which was to have
for its leader, not the king, as was falsely given out, but, as he was
better informed, the Duke of Alva, his personal enemy, and the very man
he had most cause to fear. The prince had seen too deeply into Philip's
heart to believe in the sincerity of his reconciliation after having
once awakened his fears. He judged his own conduct too justly to
reckon, like his friend Egmont, on reaping a gratitude from the king to
which he had not sown. He could therefore expect nothing but hostility
from him, and prudence counselled him to screen himself by a timely
flight from its actual outbreak. He had hitherto obstinately refused
to take the new oath, and all the written exhortations of the regent
had been fruitless. At last she sent to him at Antwerp her private
secretary, Berti, who was to put the matter emphatically to his
conscience, and forcibly remind him of all the evil consequences which
so sudden a retirement from the royal service would draw upon the
country, as well as the irreparable injury it would do to his own fair
fame. Already, she informed him by her ambassador, his declining the
required oath had cast a shade upon his honor, and imparted to the
general voice, which accused him of an understanding with the rebels, an
appearance of truth which this unconditional resignation would convert
to absolute certainty. It was for the sovereign to discharge his
servants, but it did not become the servant to abandon his sovereign.
The envoy of the regent found the prince in his palace at Antwerp,
already, as it appeared, withdrawn from the public service, and entirely
devoted to his private concerns. The prince told him, in the presence
of Hogstraten, that he had refused to take the required oath because he
could not find that such a proposition had ever before been made to a
governor of a province; because he had already bound himself, once for
all, to the king, and therefore, by taking this new oath, he would
tacitly acknowledge that he had broken the first. He had also refused
because the old oath enjoined him to protect the rights and privileges
of the country, but he could not tell whether this new one might not
impose upon him duties which would contravene the first; because, too,
the clause which bound him to serve, if required, against all without
distinction, did not except even the emperor, his feudal lord, against
whom, however, he, as his vassal, could not conscientiously make war.
He had refused to take this oath because it might impose upon him the
necessity of surrendering his friends and relations, his children, nay,
even his wife, who was a Lutheran, to butchery. According to it,
moreover, he must lend himself to every thing which it should occur to
the king's fancy or passion to demand. But the king might thus exact
from him things which he shuddered even to think of, and even the
severities which were now, and had been all along, exercised upon the
Protestants, were the most revolting to his heart. This oath, in short,
was repugnant to his feelings as a man, and he could not take it. In
conclusion, the name of the Duke of Alva dropped from his lips in a tone
of bitterness, and he became immediately silent.

All these objections were answered, point by point, by Berti. Certainly
such an oath had never been required from a governor before him, because
the provinces had never been similarly circumstanced. It was not
exacted because the governors had broken the first, but in order to
remind them vividly of their former vows, and to freshen their activity
in the present emergency. This oath would not impose upon him anything
which offended against the rights and privileges of the country, for the
king had sworn to observe these as well as the Prince of Orange. The
oath did not, it was true, contain any reference to a war with the
emperor, or any other sovereign to whom the prince might be related; and
if he really had scruples on this point, a distinct clause could easily
be inserted, expressly providing against such a contingency. Care would
be taken to spare him any duties which were repugnant to his feelings as
a man, and no power on earth would compel him to act against his wife or
against his children. Berti was then passing to the last point, which
related to the Duke of Alva, but the prince, who did not wish to have
this part of his discourse canvassed, interrupted him. "The king was
coming to the Netherlands," he said, "and he knew the king. The king
would not endure that one of his servants should have wedded a Lutheran,
and he had therefore resolved to go with his whole family into voluntary
banishment before he was obliged to submit to the same by compulsion.
But," he concluded, "wherever he might be, he would always conduct
himself as a subject of the king. " Thus far-fetched were the motives
which the prince adduced to avoid touching upon the single one which
really decided him.

Berti had still a hope of obtaining, through Egmont's eloquence, what by
his own he despaired of effecting. He therefore proposed a meeting with
the latter (1567), which the prince assented to the more willingly as he
himself felt a desire to embrace his friend once more before his
departure, and if possible to snatch the deluded man from certain
destruction. This remarkable meeting, at which the private secretary,
Berti, and the young Count Mansfeld, were also present, was the last
that the two friends ever held, and took place in Villebroeck, a village
on the Rupel, between Brussels and Antwerp. The Calvinists, whose last
hope rested on the issue of this conference, found means to acquaint
themselves of its import by a spy, who concealed himself in the chimney
of the apartment where it was held. All three attempted to shake the
determination of the prince, but their united eloquence was unable to
move him from his purpose. "It will cost you your estates, Orange, if
you persist in this intention," said the Prince of Gaure, as he took him
aside to a window. "And you your life, Egmont, if you change not
yours," replied the former. "To me it will at least be a consolation in
my misfortunes that I desired, in deed as well as in word, to help my
country and my friends in the hour of need; but you, my friend, you are
dragging friends and country with you to destruction. " And saying these
words, he once again exhorted him, still more urgently than ever, to
return to the cause of his country, which his arm alone was yet able to
preserve; if not, at least for his own sake to avoid the tempest which
was gathering against him from Spain.

But all the arguments, however lucid, with which a far-discerning
prudence supplied him, and however urgently enforced, with all the ardor
and animation which the tender anxiety of friendship could alone
inspire, did not avail to destroy the fatal confidence which still
fettered Egmont's better reason. The warning of Orange seemed to come
from a sad and dispirited heart; but for Egmont the world still smiled.
To abandon the pomp and affluence in which he had grown up to youth and
manhood; to part with all the thousand conveniences of life which alone
made it valuable to him, and all this to escape an evil which his
buoyant spirit regarded as remote, if not imaginary; no, that was not a
sacrifice which could be asked from Egmont. But had he even been less
given to indulgence than he was, with what heart could he have consigned
a princess, accustomed by uninterrupted prosperity to ease and comfort,
a wife who loved him as dearly as she was beloved, the children on whom
his soul hung in hope and fondness, to privations at the prospect of
which his own courage sank, and which a sublime philosophy alone can
enable sensuality to undergo. "You will never persuade me, Orange,"
said Egmont, "to see things in the gloomy light in which they appear to
thy mournful prudence. When I have succeeded in abolishing the public
preachings, and chastising the Iconoclasts, in crushing the rebels, and
restoring peace and order in the provinces, what can the king lay to my
charge? The king is good and just; I have claims upon his gratitude,
and I must not forget what I owe to myself. " "Well, then," cried
Orange, indignantly and with bitter anguish, "trust, if you will, to
this royal gratitude; but a mournful presentiment tells me--and may
Heaven grant that I am deceived! --that you, Egmont, will be the bridge
by which the Spaniards will pass into our country to destroy it. " After
these words, he drew him to his bosom, ardently clasping him in his
arms. Long, as though the sight was to serve for the remainder of his
life, did he keep his eyes fixed upon him; the tears fell; they saw each
other no more.

The very next day the Prince of Orange wrote his letter of resignation
to the regent, in which he assured her of his perpetual esteem, and once
again entreated her to put the best interpretation on his present step.
He then set off with his three brothers and his whole family for his own
town of Breda, where he remained only as long as was requisite to
arrange some private affairs. His eldest son, Prince Philip William,
was left behind at the University of Louvain, where he thought him
sufficiently secure under the protection of the privileges of Brabant
and the immunities of the academy; an imprudence which, if it was really
not designed, can hardly be reconciled with the just estimate which, in
so many other cases, he had taken of the character of his adversary. In
Breda the heads of the Calvinists once more consulted him whether there
was still hope for them, or whether all was irretrievably lost. "He had
before advised them," replied the prince, "and must now do so again, to
accede to the Confession of Augsburg; then they might rely upon aid from
Germany. If they would still not consent to this, they must raise six
hundred thousand florins, or more, if they could. " "The first," they
answered, "was at variance with their conviction and their conscience;
but means might perhaps be found to raise the money if he would only let
them know for what purpose he would use it. " "No! " cried he, with the
utmost displeasure, "if I must tell you that, it is all over with the
use of it. " With these words he immediately broke off the conference
and dismissed the deputies.

The Prince of Orange was reproached with having squandered his fortune,
and with favoring the innovations on account of his debts; but he
asserted that he still enjoyed sixty thousand florins yearly rental.
Before his departure he borrowed twenty thousand florins from the states
of Holland on the mortgage of some manors. Men could hardly persuade
themselves that he would have succumbed to necessity so entirely, and
without an effort at resistance given up all his hopes and schemes. But
what he secretly meditated no one knew, no one had read in his heart.
Being asked how he intended to conduct himself towards the King of
Spain, "Quietly," was his answer, "unless he touches my honor or my
estates. " He left the Netherlands soon afterwards, and betook himself
in retirement to the town of Dillenburg, in Nassau, at which place he
was born. He was accompanied to Germany by many hundreds, either as his
servants or as volunteers, and was soon followed by Counts Hogstraten,
Kuilemberg, and Bergen, who preferred to share a voluntary exile with
him rather than recklessly involve themselves in an uncertain destiny.
In his departure the nation saw the flight of its guardian angel; many
had adored, all had honored him. With him the last stay of the
Protestants gave way; they, however, had greater hopes from this man
in exile than from all the others together who remained behind. Even
the Roman Catholics could not witness his departure without regret.
Them also had he shielded from tyranny; he had not unfrequently
protected them against the oppression of their own church, and he had
rescued many of them from the sanguinary jealousy of their religious
opponents. A few fanatics among the Calvinists, who were offended with
his proposal of an alliance with their brethren, who avowed the
Confession of Augsburg, solemnized with secret thanksgivings the day on
which the enemy left them. (1567).




DECAY AND DISPERSION OF THE GEUSEN LEAGUE.

Immediately after taking leave of his friend, the Prince of Gaure
hastened back to Brussels, to receive from the regent the reward of his
firmness, and there, in the excitement of the court and in the sunshine
of his good fortune, to dispel the light cloud which the earnest
warnings of the Prince of Orange had cast over his natural gayety.
The flight of the latter now left him in possession of the stage.
He had now no longer any rival in the republic to dim his glory. With
redoubled zeal he wooed the transient favor of the court, above which he
ought to have felt himself far exalted. All Brussels must participate
in his joy. He gave splendid banquets and public entertainments, at
which, the better to eradicate all suspicion from his mind, the regent
herself frequently attended. Not content with having taken the required
oath, he outstripped the most devout in devotion; outran the most
zealous in zeal to extirpate the Protestant faith, and to reduce by
force of arms the refractory towns of Flanders. He declared to his old
friend, Count Hogstraten, as also to the rest of the Gueux, that he
would withdraw from them his friendship forever if they hesitated any
longer to return into the bosom of the church, and reconcile themselves
with their king. All the confidential letters which had been exchanged
between him and them were returned, and by this last step the breach
between them was made public and irreparable. Egmont's secession, and
the flight of the Prince of Orange, destroyed the last hope of the
Protestants and dissolved the whole league of the Gueux. Its members
vied with each other in readiness--nay, they could not soon enough
abjure the covenant and take the new oath proposed to them by the
government. In vain did the Protestant merchants exclaim at this breach
of faith on the part of the nobles; their weak voice was no longer
listened to, and all the sums were lost with which they had supplied the
league.

The most important places were quickly reduced and garrisoned; the
rebels had fled, or perished by the hand of the executioner; in the
provinces no protector was left. All yielded to the fortune of the
regent, and her victorious army was advancing against Antwerp. After a
long and obstinate contest this town had been cleared of the worst
rebels; Hermann and his adherents took to flight; the internal storms
had spent their rage. The minds of the people became gradually
composed, and no longer excited at will by every furious fanatic, began
to listen to better counsels. The wealthier citizens earnestly longed
for peace to revive commerce and trade, which had suffered severely from
the long reign of anarchy. The dread of Alva's approach worked wonders;
in order to prevent the miseries which a Spanish army would inflict upon
the country, the people hastened to throw themselves on the gentler
mercies of the regent. Of their own accord they despatched
plenipotentiaries to Brussels to negotiate for a treaty and to hear her
terms. Agreeably as the regent was surprised by this voluntary step,
she did not allow herself to be hurried away by her joy. She declared
that she neither could nor would listen to any overtures or
representations until the town had received a garrison. Even this was
no longer opposed, and Count Mansfeld marched in the day after with
sixteen squadrons in battle array. A solemn treaty was now made between
the town and duchess, by which the former bound itself to prohibit the
Calvinistic form of worship, to banish all preachers of that persuasion,
to restore the Roman Catholic religion to its former dignity, to
decorate the despoiled churches with their former ornaments, to
administer the old edicts as before, to take the new oath which the
other towns had sworn to, and, lastly, to deliver into the hands of
justice all who been guilty of treason, in bearing arms, or taking part
in the desecration of the churches. On the other hand, the regent
pledged herself to forget all that had passed, and even to intercede for
the offenders with the king. All those who, being dubious of obtaining
pardon, preferred banishment, were to be allowed a month to convert
their property into money, and place themselves in safety. From this
grace none were to be excluded but such as had been guilty of a capital
offence, and who were excepted by the previous article. Immediately
upon the conclusion of this treaty all Calvinist and Lutheran preachers
in Antwerp, and the adjoining territory, were warned by the herald to
quit the country within twenty-four hours. All the streets and gates
were now thronged with fugitives, who for the honor of their God
abandoned what was dearest to them, and sought a more peaceful home for
their persecuted faith. Here husbands were taking an eternal farewell
of their wives, fathers of their children; there whole families were
preparing to depart. All Antwerp resembled a house of mourning;
wherever the eye turned some affecting spectacle of painful separation
presented itself. A seal was set on the doors of the Protestant
churches; the whole worship seemed to be extinct. The 10th of April
(1567) was the day appointed for the departure of the preachers. In the
town hall, where they appeared for the last time to take leave of the
magistrate, they could not command their grief; but broke forth into
bitter reproaches. They had been sacrificed, they exclaimed, they had
been shamefully betrayed; but a time would come when Antwerp would pay
dearly enough for this baseness. Still more bitter were the complaints
of the Lutheran clergy, whom the magistrate himself had invited into the
country to preach against the Calvinists.