Title: The Rise of the Dutch Republic — Volume 08: 1563-64
Author: Motley, John Lothrop
Language: English
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THE RISE OF THE DUTCH REPUBLIC

JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY, D.C.L., LL.D.

1855



1563-1564  [CHAPTER IV.]

     Joint letter to Philip, from Orange, Egmont, and Horn--Egmont's
     quarrel with Aerschot and with Aremberg--Philip's answer to the
     three nobles--His instructions to the Duchess--Egmont declines the
     King's invitation to visit Spain--Second letter of the three
     seigniors--Mission of Armenteros--Letter of Alva--Secret letters of
     Granvelle to Philip--The Cardinal's insinuations and instructions--
     His complaints as to the lukewarmness of Berghen and Montigny in the
     cause of the inquisition--Anecdotes to their discredit privately
     chronicled by Granvelle--Supposed necessity for the King's presence
     in the provinces--Correspondence of Lazarus Schwendi--Approaching
     crisis--Anxiety of Granvelle to retire--Banquet of Caspar Schetz--
     Invention of the foolscap livery--Correspondence of the Duchess and
     of the Cardinal with Philip upon the subject--Entire withdrawal of
     the three seigniors from the state council--the King advises with
     Alva concerning the recall of Granvelle--Elaborate duplicity of
     Philip's arrangements--His secret note to the Cardinal--His
     dissembling letters to others--Departure of Granvelle from the
     Netherlands--Various opinions as to its cause--Ludicrous conduct of
     Brederode and Hoogstraaten--Fabulous statements in Granvelle's
     correspondence concerning his recall--Universal mystification--The
     Cardinal deceived by the King--Granvelle in retirement--His
     epicureanism--Fears in the provinces as to his return--Universal joy
     at his departure--Representations to his discredit made by the
     Duchess to Philip--Her hypocritical letters to the Cardinal--
     Masquerade at Count Mansfeld's--Chantonnay's advice to his brother--
     Review of Granvelle's administration and estimate of his character.

On the 11th March, 1563, Orange, Horn, and Egmont united in a remarkable
letter to the King.  They said that as their longer "taciturnity" might
cause the ruin of his Majesty's affairs, they were at last compelled to
break silence.  They hoped that the King would receive with benignity a
communication which was pure, frank, and free from all passion.  The
leading personages of the province, they continued, having thoroughly
examined the nature and extent of Cardinal Granvelle's authority, had
arrived at the conclusion that every thing was in his hands.  This
persuasion, they said, was rooted in the hearts of all his Majesty's
subjects, and particularly in their own, so deeply, that it could not be
eradicated as long as the Cardinal remained.  The King was therefore
implored to consider the necessity of remedying the evil.  The royal
affairs, it was affirmed, would never be successfully conducted so long
as they were entrusted to Granvelle, because he was so odious to so many
people.  If the danger were not imminent, they should not feel obliged to
write to his Majesty with so much vehemence.  It was, however, an affair
which allowed neither delay nor dissimulation.  They therefore prayed the
King, if they had ever deserved credence in things of weight, to believe
them now.  By so doing, his Majesty would avoid great mischief.  Many
grand seigniors, governors, and others, had thought it necessary to give
this notice, in order that the King might prevent the ruin of the
country.  If, however, his Majesty were willing, as they hoped, to avoid
discontenting all for the sake of satisfying one, it was possible that
affairs might yet prosper.  That they might not be thought influenced by
ambition or by hope of private profit, the writers asked leave to retire
from the state council.  Neither their reputation, they said, nor the
interests of the royal service would permit them to act with the
Cardinal.  They professed themselves dutiful subjects and Catholic
vassals.  Had it not been for the zeal of the leading seigniors, the
nobility, and other well-disposed persons, affairs would not at that
moment be so tranquil; the common people having been so much injured, and
the manner of life pursued by the Cardinal not being calculated to give
more satisfaction than was afforded by his unlimited authority.  In
conclusion, the writers begged his Majesty not to throw the blame upon
them, if mischance should follow the neglect of this warning.  This
memorable letter was signed by Guillaume, de Nassau, Lamoral d'Egmont,
and Philippes de Montmorency (Count Horn).  It was despatched undercover
to Charles de Tisnacq, a Belgian, and procurator for the affairs of the
Netherlands at Madrid, a man whose relations with Count Egmont were of a
friendly character.  It was impossible, however, to keep the matter a
secret from the person most interested.  The Cardinal wrote to the King
the day before the letter was written, and many weeks before it was sent,
to apprize him that it was coming, and to instruct him as to the answer
he was to make.  Nearly all the leading nobles and governors had adhered
to the substance of the letter, save the Duke of Aerschot, Count
Aremberg, and Baron Berlaymont.  The Duke and Count had refused to join
the league; violent scenes having occurred upon the subject between them
and the leaders of the opposition party.  Egmont, being with a large
shooting party at Aerschot's country place, Beaumont, had taken occasion
to urge the Duke to join in the general demonstration against the
Cardinal, arguing the matter in the rough, off-hand, reckless manner
which was habitual with him.  His arguments offended the nobleman thus
addressed, who was vain and irascible.  He replied by affirming that he
was a friend to Egmont, but would not have him for his master.  He would
have nothing to do, he said, with their league against the Cardinal, who
had never given him cause of enmity.  He had no disposition to dictate to
the King as to his choice of ministers, and his Majesty was quite right
to select his servants at his own pleasure.  The Duke added that if the
seigniors did not wish him for a friend, it was a matter of indifference
to him.  Not one of them was his superior; he had as large a band of
noble followers and friends as the best of them, and he had no
disposition to accept the supremacy of any nobleman in the land.
The conversation carried on in this key soon became a quarrel, and from
words the two gentlemen would soon have come to blows, but for the
interposition of Aremberg and Robles, who were present at the scene.  The
Duchess of Parma, narrating the occurrence to the King, added that a duel
had been the expected result of the affair, but that the two nobles had
eventually been reconciled.  It was characteristic of Aerschot that he
continued afterward to associate with the nobles upon friendly terms,
while maintaining an increased intimacy with the Cardinal.

The gentlemen who sent the letter were annoyed at the premature publicity
which it seemed to have attained.  Orange had in vain solicited Count
Aremberg to join the league, and had quarrelled with him in consequence.
Egmont, in the presence of Madame de Parma, openly charged Aremberg with
having divulged the secret which had been confided to him.  The Count
fiercely denied that he had uttered a syllable on the subject to a human
being; but added that any communication on his part would have been quite
superfluous, while Egmont and his friends were daily boasting of what
they were to accomplish.  Egmont reiterated the charge of a breach of
faith by Aremberg.  That nobleman replied by laying his hand upon his
sword, denouncing as liars all persons who should dare to charge him
again with such an offence, and offering to fight out the quarrel upon
the instant.  Here, again, personal combat was, with much difficulty,
averted.

Egmont, rude, reckless, and indiscreet, was already making manifest that
he was more at home on a battle-field than in a political controversy
where prudence and knowledge of human nature were as requisite as
courage.  He was at this period more liberal in his sentiments than at
any moment of his life.  Inflamed by his hatred of Granvelle, and
determined to compass the overthrow of that minister, he conversed freely
with all kinds of people, sought popularity among the burghers, and
descanted to every one with much imprudence upon the necessity of union
for the sake of liberty and the national good.  The Regent, while
faithfully recording in her despatches every thing of this nature which
reached her ears, expressed her astonishment at Egmont's course, because,
as she had often taken occasion to inform the King, she had always
considered the Count most sincerely attached to his Majesty's service.

Berlaymont, the only other noble of prominence who did not approve the
11th of March letter, was at this period attempting to "swim in two
waters," and, as usual in such cases, found it very difficult to keep
himself afloat.  He had refused to join the league, but he stood aloof
from Granvelle.  On a hope held out by the seigniors that his son should
be made Bishop of Liege, he had ceased during a whole year from visiting
the Cardinal, and had never spoken to him at the council-board.
Granvelle, in narrating these circumstances to the King, expressed the
opinion that Berlaymont, by thus attempting to please both parties, had
thoroughly discredited himself with both.

The famous epistle, although a most reasonable and manly statement of an
incontrovertible fact, was nevertheless a document which it required much
boldness to sign.  The minister at that moment seemed omnipotent, and it
was obvious that the King was determined upon a course of political and
religious absolutism.  It is, therefore, not surprising that, although
many sustained its principles, few were willing to affix their names to a
paper which might prove a death-warrant to the signers.  Even Montigny
and Berghen, although they had been active in conducting the whole cabal,
if cabal it could be called, refused to subscribe the letter.  Egmont and
Horn were men of reckless daring, but they were not keen-sighted enough
to perceive fully the consequences of their acts.

Orange was often accused by his enemies of timidity, but no man ever
doubted his profound capacity to look quite through the deeds of men.
His political foresight enabled him to measure the dangerous precipice
which they were deliberately approaching, while the abyss might perhaps
be shrouded to the vision of his companions.  He was too tranquil of
nature to be hurried, by passions into a grave political step, which in
cooler moments he might regret.  He resolutely, therefore, and with his
eyes open, placed himself in open and recorded enmity with the most
powerful and dangerous man in the whole Spanish realm, and incurred the
resentment of a King who never forgave.  It may be safely averred that as
much courage was requisite thus to confront a cold and malignant
despotism, and to maintain afterwards, without flinching, during a whole
lifetime, the cause of national rights and liberty of conscience, as to
head the most brilliant charge of cavalry that ever made hero famous.

Philip answered the letter of the three nobles on the 6th June following.
In this reply, which was brief, he acknowledged the zeal and affection by
which the writers had been actuated.  He suggested, nevertheless, that,
as they had mentioned no particular cause for adopting the advice
contained in their letter, it would be better that one of them should
come to Madrid to confer with him.  Such matters, he said, could be
better treated by word of mouth.  He might thus receive sufficient
information to enable him to form a decision, for, said he in conclusion,
it was not his custom to aggrieve any of his ministers without cause.

This was a fine phrase, but under the circumstances of its application,
quite ridiculous.  There was no question of aggrieving the minister.
The letter of the three nobles was very simple.  It consisted of a fact
and a deduction.  The fact stated was, that the Cardinal was odious to
all classes of the nation.  The deduction drawn was, that the government
could no longer be carried on by him without imminent danger of ruinous
convulsions.  The fact was indisputable.  The person most interested
confirmed it in his private letters.  "'Tis said," wrote Granvelle to
Philip, "that grandees, nobles, and people, all abhor me, nor am I
surprised to find that grandees, nobles, and people are all openly
against me, since each and all have been invited to join in the league."
The Cardinal's reasons for the existence of the unpopularity, which he
admitted to the full, have no bearing upon the point in the letter.  The
fact was relied upon to sustain a simple, although a momentous inference.
It was for Philip to decide upon the propriety of the deduction, and to
abide by the consequences of his resolution when taken.  As usual,
however, the monarch was not capable of making up his mind.  He knew
very well that the Cardinal was odious and infamous, because he was the
willing impersonation of the royal policy.  Philip was, therefore,
logically called upon to abandon the policy or to sustain the minister.
He could make up his mind to do neither the one nor the other.  In the
mean time a well-turned period of mock magnanimity had been furnished
him.  This he accordingly transmitted as his first answer to a most
important communication upon a subject which, in the words of the
writers, "admitted neither of dissimulation nor delay."  To deprive
Philip of dissimulation and delay, however, was to take away his all.
They were the two weapons with which he fought his long life's battle.
They summed up the whole of his intellectual resources.  It was
inevitable, therefore, that he should at once have recourse to both
on such an emergency as the present one.

At the same time that he sent his answer to the nobles, he wrote an
explanatory letter to the Regent.  He informed her that he had received
the communication of the three seigniors, but instructed her that she was
to appear to know nothing of the matter until Egmont should speak to her
upon the subject.  He added that, although he had signified his wish to
the three nobles, that one of them, without specifying which, should come
to Madrid, he in reality desired that Egmont, who seemed the most
tractable of the three, should be the one deputed.  The King added, that
his object was to divide the nobles, and to gain time.

It was certainly superfluous upon Philip's part to inform his sister that
his object was to gain time.  Procrastination was always his first
refuge, as if the march of the world's events would pause indefinitely
while he sat in his cabinet and pondered.  It was, however, sufficiently
puerile to recommend to his sister an affectation of ignorance on a
subject concerning which nobles had wrangled, and almost drawn their
swords in her presence.  This, however, was the King's statesmanship when
left to his unaided exertions.  Granvelle, who was both Philip and
Margaret when either had to address or to respond to the world at large,
did not always find it necessary to regulate the correspondence of his
puppets between themselves.  In order more fully to divide the nobles,
the King also transmitted to Egmont a private note, in his own
handwriting, expressing his desire that he should visit Spain in
person, that they might confer together upon the whole subject.

These letters, as might be supposed, produced any thing but a
satisfactory effect.  The discontent and rage of the gentlemen who had
written or sustained the 11th of March communication, was much increased.
The answer was, in truth, no answer at all.  "'Tis a cold and bad reply,"
wrote Louis of Nassau, "to send after so long a delay.  'Tis easy to see
that the letter came from the Cardinal's smithy.  In summa it is a vile
business, if the gentlemen are all to be governed by one person.  I hope
to God his power will come soon to an end.  Nevertheless," added Louis,
"the gentlemen are all wide awake, for they trust the red fellow not a
bit more than he deserves."

The reader has already seen that the letter was indeed "from the
Cardinal's smithy," Granvelle having instructed his master how to reply
to the seigniors before the communication had been despatched.

The Duchess wrote immediately to inform her brother that Egmont had
expressed himself willing enough to go to Spain, but had added that he
must first consult Orange and Horn.  As soon as that step had been taken,
she had been informed that it was necessary for them to advise with all
the gentlemen who had sanctioned their letter.  The Duchess had then
tried in vain to prevent such an assembly, but finding that, even if
forbidden, it would still take place, she had permitted the meeting in
Brussels, as she could better penetrate into their proceedings there,
than if it should be held at a distance.  She added, that she should soon
send her secretary Armenteros to Spain, that the King might be thoroughly
acquainted with what was occurring.

Egmont soon afterwards wrote to Philip, declining to visit Spain
expressly on account of the Cardinal.  He added, that he was ready to
undertake the journey, should the King command his presence for any other
object.  The same decision was formally communicated to the Regent by
those Chevaliers of the Fleece who had approved the 11th of March letter
--Montigny; Berghen, Meghem, Mansfeld, Ligne, Hoogstraaten, Orange,
Egmont, and Horn.  The Prince of Orange, speaking in the name of all,
informed her that they did not consider it consistent with their
reputation, nor with the interest of his Majesty, that any one of them
should make so long and troublesome a journey, in order to accuse the
Cardinal.  For any other purpose, they all held themselves ready to go to
Spain at once.  The Duchess expressed her regret at this resolution.  The
Prince replied by affirming that, in all their proceedings, they had been
governed, not by hatred of Granvelle but by a sense of duty to his
Majesty.  It was now, he added, for the King to pursue what course it
pleased him.

Four days after this interview with the Regent, Orange, Egmont, and Horn
addressed a second letter to the King.  In this communication they stated
that they had consulted with all the gentlemen with whose approbation
their first letter had been written.  As to the journey of one of them to
Spain,--as suggested, they pronounced it very dangerous for any seignior
to absent himself, in the condition of affairs which then existed.
It was not a sufficient cause to go thither on account of Granvelle.
They disclaimed any intention of making themselves parties to a process
against the Cardinal.  They had thought that their simple, brief
announcement would have sufficed to induce his Majesty to employ that
personage in other places, where his talents would be more fruitful.
As to "aggrieving the Cardinal without cause," there was no question of
aggrieving him at all, but of relieving him of an office which could not
remain in his hands without disaster.  As to "no particular cause having
been mentioned," they said the omission was from no lack of many such.
They had charged none, however, because, from their past services and
their fidelity to his Majesty, they expected to be believed on their
honor, without further witnesses or evidence.  They had no intention of
making themselves accusers.  They had purposely abstained from
specifications.  If his Majesty should proceed to ampler information,
causes enough would be found.  It was better, however, that they should
be furnished by others than by themselves.  His Majesty would then find
that the public and general complaint was not without adequate motives.
They renewed their prayer to be excused from serving in the council of
state, in order that they might not be afterwards inculpated for the
faults of others.  Feeling that the controversy between themselves and
the Cardinal de Granvelle in the state council produced no fruit for his
Majesty's affairs, they preferred to yield to him.  In conclusion, they
begged the King to excuse the simplicity of their letters, the rather
that they were not by nature great orators, but more accustomed to do
well than to speak well, which was also more becoming to persons of their
quality.

On the 4th of August, Count Horn also addressed a private letter to the
King, written in the same spirit as that which characterized the joint
letter just cited.  He assured his Majesty that the Cardinal could render
no valuable service to the crown on account of the hatred which the whole
nation bore him, but that, as far as regarded the maintenance of the
ancient religion, all the nobles were willing to do their duty.

The Regent now despatched, according to promise, her private secretary,
Thomas de Armenteros, to Spain.  His instructions, which were very
elaborate, showed that Granvelle was not mistaken when he charged her
with being entirely changed in regard to him, and when he addressed her
a reproachful letter, protesting his astonishment that his conduct had
become auspicious, and his inability to divine the cause of the weariness
and dissatisfaction which she manifested in regard to him.

Armenteros, a man of low, mercenary, and deceitful character, but a
favorite of the Regent, and already beginning to acquire that influence
over her mind which was soon to become so predominant, was no friend of
the Cardinal.  It was not probable that he would diminish the effect of
that vague censure mingled with faint commendation, which characterized
Margaret's instructions by any laudatory suggestions of his own.  He was
directed to speak in general terms of the advance of heresy, and the
increasing penury of the exchequer.  He was to request two hundred
thousand crowns toward the lottery, which the Regent proposed to set up
as a financial scheme.  He was to represent that the Duchess had tried,
unsuccessfully, every conceivable means of accommodating the quarrel
between the Cardinal and the seigniors.  She recognized Granvelle's great
capacity, experience, zeal, and devotion--for all which qualities she
made much of him--while on the other hand she felt that it would be a
great inconvenience, and might cause a revolt of the country, were she to
retain him in the Netherlands against the will of the seigniors.  These
motives had compelled her, the messenger was to add, to place both views
of the subject before the eyes of the King.  Armenteros was, furthermore,
to narrate the circumstances of the interviews which had recently taken
place between herself and the leaders of the opposition party.

From the tenor of these instructions, it was sufficiently obvious that
Margaret of Parma was not anxious to retain the Cardinal, but that, on
the contrary, she was beginning already to feel alarm at the dangerous
position in which she found herself.  A few days after the three nobles
had despatched their last letter to the King, they had handed her a
formal remonstrance.  In this document they stated their conviction that
the country was on the high road to ruin, both as regarded his Majesty's
service and the common weal.  The bare, the popular discontent daily
increasing, the fortresses on the frontier in a dilapidated condition.
It was to be apprehended daily that merchants and other inhabitants of
the provinces would be arrested in foreign countries, to satisfy the
debts owed by his Majesty.  To provide against all these evils, but one
course, it was suggested, remained to the government--to summon the
states-general, and to rely upon their counsel and support.  The nobles,
however, forbore to press this point, by reason of the prohibition which
the Regent had received from the King.  They suggested, however, that
such an interdiction could have been dictated only by a distrust created
between his Majesty and the estates by persons having no love for either,
and who were determined to leave no resource by which the distress of the
country could be prevented.  The nobles, therefore, begged her highness
not to take it amiss if, so long as the King was indisposed to make other
arrangements for the administration of the provinces, they should abstain
from appearing at the state council.  They preferred to cause the shadow
at last to disappear, which they had so long personated.  In conclusion,
however, they expressed their determination to do their duty in their
several governments, and to serve the Regent to the best of their
abilities.

After this remonstrance had been delivered, the Prince of Orange, Count
Horn, and Count Egmont abstained entirely from the sessions of the state
council.  She was left alone with the Cardinal, whom she already hated,
and with his two shadows, Viglius and Berlaymont.

Armenteros, after a month spent on his journey, arrived in Spain, and was
soon admitted to an audience by Philip.  In his first interview, which
lasted four hours, he read to the King all the statements and documents
with which he had come provided, and humbly requested a prompt decision.
Such a result was of course out of the question.  Moreover, the Cortes of
Tarragon, which happened then to be in session, and which required the
royal attention, supplied the monarch with a fresh excuse for indulging
in his habitual vacillation.  Meantime, by way of obtaining additional
counsel in so grave an emergency, he transmitted the letters of the
nobles, together with the other papers, to the Duke of Alva, and
requested his opinion on the subject.  Alva replied with the roar of a
wild beast, "Every time," he wrote, "that I see the despatches of those
three Flemish seigniors my rage is so much excited that if I did not use
all possible efforts to restrain it, my sentiments would seem those of a
madman."  After this splenitive exordium he proceeded to express the
opinion that all the hatred and complaints against the Cardinal had
arisen from his opposition to the convocation of the states-general.
With regard to persons who had so richly deserved such chastisement, he
recommended "that their heads should be taken off; but, until this could
be done, that the King should dissemble with them."  He advised Philip
not to reply to their letters, but merely to intimate, through the
Regent, that their reasons for the course proposed by them did not seem
satisfactory.  He did not prescribe this treatment of the case as "a true
remedy, but only as a palliative; because for the moment only weak
medicines could be employed, from which, however, but small effect could
be anticipated."  As to recalling the Cardinal, "as they had the
impudence to propose to his Majesty," the Duke most decidedly advised
against the step.  In the mean time, and before it should be practicable
to proceed "to that vigorous chastisement already indicated," he advised
separating the nobles as much as possible by administering flattery and
deceitful caresses to Egmont, who might be entrapped more easily than the
others.

Here, at least, was a man who knew his own mind.  Here was a servant who
could be relied upon to do his master's bidding whenever this master
should require his help.  The vigorous explosion of wrath with which the
Duke thus responded to the first symptoms of what he regarded as
rebellion, gave a feeble intimation of the tone which he would assume
when that movement should have reached a more advanced stage.  It might
be guessed what kind of remedies he would one day prescribe in place of
the "mild medicines" in which he so reluctantly acquiesced for the
present.

While this had been the course pursued by the seigniors, the Regent and
the King, in regard to that all-absorbing subject of Netherland politics
--the straggle against Granvelle--the Cardinal, in his letters to Philip,
had been painting the situation by minute daily touches, in a manner of
which his pencil alone possessed the secret.

Still maintaining the attitude of an injured but forgiving Christian,
he spoke of the nobles in a tone of gentle sorrow.  He deprecated any
rising of the royal wrath in his behalf; he would continue to serve
the gentlemen, whether they would or no; he was most anxious lest any
considerations on his account should interfere with the King's decision
in regard to the course to be pursued in the Netherlands.  At the same
time, notwithstanding these general professions of benevolence towards
the nobles, he represented them as broken spendthrifts, wishing to create
general confusion in order to escape from personal liabilities; as
conspirators who had placed themselves within the reach of the attorney-
general; as ambitious malcontents who were disposed to overthrow the
royal authority, and to substitute an aristocratic republic upon its
ruins.  He would say nothing to prejudice the King's mind against these
gentlemen, but he took care to omit nothing which could possibly
accomplish that result.  He described them as systematically opposed to
the policy which he knew lay nearest the King's heart, and as determined
to assassinate the faithful minister who was so resolutely carrying it
out, if his removal could be effected in no other way.  He spoke of the
state of religion as becoming more and more unsatisfactory, and bewailed
the difficulty with which he could procure the burning of heretics;
difficulties originating in the reluctance of men from whose elevated
rank better things might have been expected.

As Granvelle is an important personage, as his character has been
alternately the subject of much censure and of more applause, and as the
epoch now described was the one in which the causes of the great
convulsion were rapidly germinating, it is absolutely necessary that the
reader should be placed in a position to study the main character, as
painted by his own hand; the hand in which were placed, at that moment,
the destinies of a mighty empire.  It is the historian's duty, therefore,
to hang the picture of his administration fully in the light.  At the
moment when the 11th of March letter was despatched, the Cardinal
represented Orange and Egmont as endeavoring by every method of menace
or blandishment to induce all the grand seigniors and petty nobles to
join in the league against himself.  They had quarrelled with Aerschot
and Aremberg, they had more than half seduced Berlaymont, and they
stigmatized all who refused to enter into their league as cardinalists
and familiars of the inquisition.  He protested that he should regard
their ill-will with indifference, were he not convinced that he was
himself only a pretext, and that their designs were really much deeper.
Since the return of Montigny, the seigniors had established a league
which that gentleman and his brother, Count Horn, had both joined.  He
would say nothing concerning the defamatory letters and pamphlets of
which he was the constant object, for he wished no heed taken of matters
which concerned exclusively himself, Notwithstanding this disclaimer,
however, he rarely omitted to note the appearance of all such productions
for his Majesty's especial information.  "It was better to calm men's
spirits," he said, "than to excite them."  As to fostering quarrels among
the seigniors, as the King had recommended, that was hardly necessary,
for discord was fast sowing its own seeds.  "It gave him much pain," he
said, with a Christian sigh, "to observe that such dissensions had
already arisen, and unfortunately on his account."  He then proceeded
circumstantially to describe the quarrel between Aerschot and Egmont,
already narrated by the Regent, omitting in his statement no particular
which could make Egmont reprehensible in the royal eyes.  He likewise
painted the quarrel between the same noble and Aremberg, to which he had
already alluded in previous letters to the King, adding that many
gentlemen, and even the more prudent part of the people, were
dissatisfied with the course of the grandees, and that he was taking
underhand but dexterous means to confirm them in such sentiments.
He instructed Philip how to reply to the letter addressed to him,
but begged his Majesty not to hesitate to sacrifice him if the
interests of his crown should seem to require it.

With regard to religious matters, he repeatedly deplored that,
notwithstanding his own exertions and those of Madame de Parma,
things were not going on as he desired, but, on the contrary,
very badly"  For the-love of God and the service of the holy religion,"
he cried out fervently, "put your royal hand valiantly to the work,
otherwise we have only to exclaim, Help, Lord, for we perish!"

Having uttered this pious exhortation in the ear of a man who needed no
stimulant in the path of persecution, he proceeded to express his regrets
that the judges and other officers were not taking in hand the
chastisement of heresy with becoming vigor.

Yet, at that very moment Peter Titelmann was raging through Flanders,
tearing whole families out of bed and burning them to ashes, with such
utter disregard to all laws or forms as to provoke in the very next year
a solemn protest from the four estates of Flanders; and Titelmann was but
one of a dozen inquisitors.

Granvelle, however, could find little satisfaction in the exertions of
subordinates so long as men in high station were remiss in their duties.
The Marquis Berghen, he informed Philip, showed but little disposition
to put down heresy, in Valenciennes, while Montigny was equally remiss
at Tournay.  They were often heard to say, to any who chose to listen,
that it was not right to inflict the punishment of death for matters of
religion.  This sentiment, uttered in that age of blood and fire,
and crowning the memory of those unfortunate nobles with eternal honor,
was denounced by the churchman as criminal, and deserving of castigation.
He intimated, moreover, that these pretences of clemency were mere
hypocrisy, and that self-interest was at the bottom of their compassion.
"'Tis very black," said he, "when interest governs; but these men are a
in debt, so deeply that they owe their very souls.  They are seeking
every means of escaping from their obligations, and are most desirous of
creating general confusion."  As to the Prince of Orange, the Cardinal
asserted that he owed nine hundred thousand florins, and had hardly
twenty-five thousand a-year clear income, while he spent ninety thousand,
having counts; barons, and gentlemen in great numbers, in his household.
At this point, he suggested that it might be well to find employment for
some of these grandees in Spain and other dominions of his Majesty,
adding that perhaps Orange might accept the vice-royalty of Sicily.

Resuming the religious matter, a few weeks later, he expressed himself a
little more cheerfully, "We have made so much outcry," said he, "that at
last Marquis Berghen has been forced to burn a couple of heretics at
Valenciennes.  Thus, it is obvious," moralized the Cardinal, "that if he
were really willing to apply the remedy in that place, much progress
might be made; but that we can do but little so long as he remains in the
government of the provinces and refuses to assist us."  In a subsequent
letter, he again uttered com plaints against the Marquis and Montigny,
who were evermore his scapegoats and bugbears.  Berghen will give us no
aid, he wrote, despite of all the letters we send him.  He absents
himself for private and political reasons.  Montigny has eaten meat in
Lent, as the Bishop of Tournay informs me.  Both he and the Marquis say
openly that it is not right to shed blood for matters of faith, so that
the King can judge how much can be effected with such coadjutors.
Berghen avoids the persecution of heretics, wrote the Cardinal again,
a month later, to Secretary Perez.  He has gone to Spa for his health,
although those who saw him last say he is fat and hearty.

Granvelle added, however, that they had at last "burned one more preacher
alive."  The heretic, he stated, had feigned repentance to save his life,
but finding that, at any rate, his head would be cut off as a dogmatizer,
he retracted his recantation.  "So," concluded the Cardinal,
complacently, "they burned him."

He chronicled the sayings and doings of the principal personages in the
Netherlands, for the instruction of the King, with great regularity,
insinuating suspicions when unable to furnish evidence, and adding
charitable apologies, which he knew would have but small effect upon the
mind of his correspondent.  Thus he sent an account of a "very secret
meeting" held by Orange, Egmont, Horn, Montigny and Berghen, at the abbey
of La Forest, near Brussels, adding, that he did not know what they had
been doing there, and was at loss what to suspect.  He would be most
happy, he said, to put the best interpretation upon their actions, but he
could not help remembering with great sorrow the observation so recently
made by Orange to Montigny, that one day they should be stronger.  Later
in the year, the Cardinal informed the King that the same nobles were
holding a conference at Weerdt, that he had not learned what had been
transacted there, but thought the affair very suspicious.  Philip
immediately communicated the intelligence to Alva, together with an
expression of Granvelle's fears and of his own, that a popular outbreak
would be the consequence of the continued presence of the minister in the
Netherlands.

The Cardinal omitted nothing in the way of anecdote or inuendo, which
could injure the character of the leading nobles, with the exception,
perhaps, of Count Egmont.  With this important personage, whose character
he well understood, he seemed determined, if possible, to maintain
friendly relations.  There was a deep policy in this desire, to which we
shall advert hereafter.  The other seigniors were described in general
terms as disposed to overthrow the royal authority.  They were bent upon
Granvelle's downfall as the first step, because, that being accomplished,
the rest would follow as a matter of course.  "They intend," said he,
"to reduce the state into the form of a republic, in which the King shall
have no power except to do their bidding."  He added, that he saw with
regret so many German troops gathering on the borders; for he believed
them to be in the control of the disaffected nobles of the Netherlands.
Having made this grave insinuation, he proceeded in the same breath to
express his anger at a statement said to have been made by Orange and
Egmont, to the effect that he had charged them with intending to excite
a civil commotion, an idea, he added, which had never entered his head.
In the same paragraph, he poured into the most suspicious ear that ever
listened to a tale of treason, his conviction that the nobles were
planning a republic by the aid of foreign troops, and uttered a complaint
that these nobles had accused him of suspecting them.  As for the Prince
of Orange, he was described as eternally boasting of his influence in
Germany, and the great things which he could effect by means of his
connexions there, "so that," added the Cardinal, "we hear no other song."

He had much to say concerning the projects of these grandees to abolish
all the councils, but that of state, of which body they intended to
obtain the entire control.  Marquis Berghen was represented as being at
the bottom of all these intrigues.  The general and evident intention was
to make a thorough change in the form of government.  The Marquis meant
to command in every thing, and the Duchess would soon have nothing to do
in the provinces as regent for the King.  In fact, Philip himself would
be equally powerless, "for," said the Cardinal, "they will have succeeded
in putting your Majesty completely under guardianship."  He added,
moreover, that the seigniors, in order to gain favor with the people and
with the estates, had allowed them to acquire so much power, that they
would respond to any request for subsidies by a general popular revolt.
"This is the simple truth," said Granvelle, "and moreover, by the same
process, in a very few days there will likewise be no religion left in
the land."  When the deputies of some of the states, a few weeks later,
had been irregularly convened in Brussels, for financial purposes,
the Cardinal informed the monarch that the nobles were endeavoring
to conciliate their good-will, by offering them a splendid series
of festivities and banquets.

He related various anecdotes which came to his ears from time to time,
all tending to excite suspicions as to the loyalty and orthodoxy of the
principal nobles.  A gentleman coming from Burgundy had lately, as he
informed the King, been dining with the Prince of Orange, with whom Horn
and Montigny were then lodging.  At table, Montigny called out in a very
loud voice to the strange cavalier, who was seated at a great distance
from him, to ask if there were many Huguenots in Burgundy.  No, replied
the gentleman nor would they be permitted to exist there.  "Then there can
be very few people of intelligence in that province," returned Montigny,
"for those who have any wit are mostly all Huguenots."  The Prince of
Orange here endeavored to put a stop to the conversation, saying that the
Burgundians were very right to remain as they were; upon which Montigny
affirmed that he had heard masses enough lately to last him for three
months.  These things may be jests, commented Granvelle, but they are
very bad ones; and 'tis evident that such a man is an improper instrument
to remedy the state of religious affairs in Tournay.

At another large party, the King was faithfully informed by the same
chronicler, that Marquis Berghen had been teasing the Duke of Aerschot
very maliciously, because he would not join the league.  The Duke had
responded as he had formerly done to Egmont, that his Majesty was not to
receive laws from his vassals; adding that, for himself, he meant to
follow in the loyal track of his ancestors, fearing God and honoring the
king.  In short, said Granvelle, he answered them with so much wisdom,
that although they had never a high opinion of his capacity, they were
silenced.  This conversation had been going on before all the servants,
the Marquis being especially vociferous, although the room was quite full
of them.  As soon as the cloth was removed, and while some of the lackies
still remained, Berghen had resumed the conversation.  He said he was of
the same mind as his ancestor, John of Berghen, had been, who had once
told the King's grandfather, Philip the Fair, that if his Majesty was
bent on his own perdition, he had no disposition to ruin himself.  If the
present monarch means to lose these provinces by governing them as he did
govern them, the Marquis affirmed that he had no wish to lose the little
property that he himself possessed in the country.  "But if," argued the
Duke of Aerschot, "the King absolutely refuse to do what you demand of
him; what then?"--"Par la cordieu!"  responded Berghen, in a rage, "we
will let him see!"  whereupon all became silent.

Granvelle implored the King to keep these things entirely to himself;
adding that it was quite necessary for his Majesty to learn in this
manner what were the real dispositions of the gentlemen of the provinces.
It was also stated in the same letter, that a ruffian Genoese, who had
been ordered out of the Netherlands by the Regent, because of a homicide
he had committed, was kept at Weert, by Count Horn, for the purpose of
murdering the Cardinal.

He affirmed that he was not allowed to request the expulsion of the
assassin from the Count's house; but that he would take care,
nevertheless, that neither this ruffian nor any other, should accomplish
his purpose.  A few weeks afterwards, expressing his joy at the
contradiction of a report that Philip had himself been assassinated,
Granvelle added; "I too, who am but a worm in comparison, am threatened
on so many sides, that many must consider me already dead.  Nevertheless,
I will endeavor, with God's help, to live as long as I can, and if they
kill me, I hope they will not gain every thing."  Yet, with
characteristic Jesuitism, the Cardinal could not refrain, even in the
very letter in which he detailed the rebellious demonstrations of
Berghen, and the murderous schemes of Horn, to protest that he did not
say these things "to prejudice his Majesty against any one, but only that
it might be known to what a height the impudence was rising."  Certainly
the King and the ecclesiastic, like the Roman soothsayers, would have
laughed in each other's face, could they have met, over the hollowness of
such demonstrations.  Granvelle's letters were filled, for the greater
part, with pictures of treason, stratagem, and bloody intentions,
fabricated mostly out of reports, table-talk, disjointed chat in the
careless freedom of domestic intercourse, while at the same time a margin
was always left to express his own wounded sense of the injurious
suspicions uttered against him by the various subjects of his letters.
"God knows," said he to Perez, "that I always speak of them with respect,
which is more than they do of me.  But God forgive them all.  In times
like these, one must hold one's tongue.  One must keep still, in order
not to stir up a hornet's nest."

In short, the Cardinal, little by little, during the last year of his
residence in the Netherlands, was enabled to spread a canvas before his
sovereign's eye, in which certain prominent figures, highly colored by
patiently accumulated touches, were represented as driving a whole
nation, against its own will, into manifest revolt.  The estates and the
people, he said, were already tired of the proceedings of the nobles, and
those personages would find themselves very much mistaken in thinking
that men who had any thing to lose would follow them, when they began a
rebellion against his Majesty.  On the whole, he was not desirous of
prolonging his own residence, although, to do him justice, he was not
influenced by fear.  He thought or affected to think that the situation
was one of a factitious popular discontent, procured by the intrigues of
a few ambitious and impoverished Catilines and Cethegi, not a rising
rebellion such as the world had never seen, born of the slowly-awakened
wrath of, a whole people, after the martyrdom of many years.  The remedy
that he recommended was that his Majesty should come in person to the
provinces.  The monarch would cure the whole disorder as soon as he
appeared, said the Cardinal, by merely making the sign of the cross.
Whether, indeed, the rapidly-increasing cancer of national discontent
would prove a mere king's evil, to be healed by the royal touch, as many
persons besides Granvelle believed, was a point not doomed to be tested.
From that day forward Philip began to hold out hopes that he would come
to administer the desired remedy, but even then it was the opinion of
good judges that he would give millions rather than make his appearance
in the Netherlands.  It was even the hope of William of Orange that the
King would visit the provinces.  He expressed his desire, in a letter to
Lazarus Schwendi, that his sovereign should come in person, that he might
see whether it had been right to sow so much distrust between himself and
his loyal subjects.  The Prince asserted that it was impossible for any
person not on the spot to imagine the falsehoods and calumnies circulated
by Granvelle and his friends, accusing Orange and his associates of
rebellion and heresy, in the most infamous manner in the world.  He
added, in conclusion, that he could write no more, for the mere thought
of the manner in which the government of the Netherlands was carried on
filled him with disgust and rage.  This letter, together with one in a
similar strain from Egmont, was transmitted by the valiant and highly
intellectual soldier to whom they were addressed, to the King of Spain,
with an entreaty that he would take warning from the bitter truths which
they contained.  The Colonel, who was a most trusty friend of Orange,
wrote afterwards to Margaret of Parma in the same spirit, warmly urging
her to moderation in religious matters.  This application highly enraged
Morillon, the Cardinal's most confidential dependent, who accordingly
conveyed the intelligence to his already departed chief, exclaiming in
his letter, "what does the ungrateful baboon mean by meddling with our
affairs?  A pretty state of things, truly, if kings are to choose or
retain their ministers at the will of the people; little does he know of
the disasters which would be caused by a relaxation of the edicts."
In the same sense, the Cardinal, just before his departure, which was now
imminent, wrote to warn his sovereign of the seditious character of the
men who were then placing their breasts between the people and their
butchers.  He assured Philip that upon the movement of those nobles
depended the whole existence of the country.  It was time that they
should be made to open their eyes.  They should be solicited in every way
to abandon their evil courses, since the liberty which they thought
themselves defending was but abject slavery; but subjection to a thousand
base and contemptible personages, and to that "vile animal called the
people."

It is sufficiently obvious, from the picture which we have now presented
of the respective attitudes of Granvelle, of the seigniors and of the
nation, during the whole of the year 1563, and the beginning of the
following year, that a crisis was fast approaching.  Granvelle was, for
the moment, triumphant, Orange, Egmont, and Horn had abandoned the state
council, Philip could not yet make up his mind to yield to the storm,
and Alva howled defiance at the nobles and the whole people of the
Netherlands.  Nevertheless, Margaret of Parma was utterly weary of the
minister, the Cardinal himself was most anxious to be gone, and the
nation--for there was a nation, however vile the animal might be--was
becoming daily more enraged at the presence of a man in whom, whether
justly or falsely, it beheld the incarnation of the religious oppression
under which they groaned.  Meantime, at the close of the year, a new
incident came to add to the gravity of the situation.  Caspar Schetz,
Baron of Grobbendonck, gave a Great dinner-party, in the month of
December, 1563.  This personage, whose name was prominent for many years
in the public affairs of the nation, was one of the four brothers who
formed a very opulent and influential mercantile establishment.

He was the King's principal factor and financial agent.  He was one of
the great pillars of the Bourse at Antwerp.  He was likewise a tolerable
scholar, a detestable poet, an intriguing politician, and a corrupt
financier.  He was regularly in the pay of Sir Thomas Gresham, to whom he
furnished secret information, for whom he procured differential favors,
and by whose government he was rewarded by gold chains and presents of
hard cash, bestowed as secretly as the equivalent was conveyed adroitly.
Nevertheless, although his venality was already more than suspected, and
although his peculation, during his long career became so extensive that
he was eventually prosecuted by government, and died before the process
was terminated, the lord of Grobbendonck was often employed in most
delicate negotiations, and, at the present epoch, was a man of much
importance in the Netherlands.

The treasurer-general accordingly gave his memorable banquet to a
distinguished party of noblemen.  The conversation, during dinner,
turned, as was inevitable, upon the Cardinal.  His ostentation,
greediness, insolence, were fully canvassed.  The wine flowed freely as
it always did in those Flemish festivities--the brains of the proud and
reckless cavaliers became hot with excitement, while still the odious
ecclesiastic was the topic of their conversation, the object alternately
of fierce invective or of scornful mirth.  The pompous display which he
affected in his equipages, liveries, and all the appurtenances of his
household, had frequently excited their derision, and now afforded fresh
matter for their ridicule.  The customs of Germany, the simple
habiliments in which the retainers of the greatest houses were arrayed
in that country, were contrasted with the tinsel and glitter in which the
prelate pranked himself.  It was proposed, by way of showing contempt for
Granvelle, that a livery should be forthwith invented, as different as
possible from his in general effect, and that all the gentlemen present
should indiscriminately adopt it for their own menials.  Thus would the
people whom the Cardinal wished to dazzle with his finery learn to
estimate such gauds at their true value.  It was determined that
something extremely plain, and in the German fashion, should be selected.
At the same time, the company, now thoroughly inflamed with wine, and
possessed by the spirit of mockery, determined that a symbol should be
added to the livery, by which the universal contempt for Granvelle should
be expressed.  The proposition was hailed with acclamation, but who
should invent the hieroglyphical costume?  All were reckless and ready
enough, but ingenuity of device was required.  At last it was determined
to decide the question by hazard.  Amid shouts of hilarity, the dice were
thrown.  Those men were staking their lives, perhaps, upon the issue, but
the reflection gave only a keener zest to the game.  Egmont won.  It was
the most fatal victory which he had ever achieved, a more deadly prize
even than the trophies of St. Quentin and Gravelingen.

In a few days afterwards, the retainers of the house of Egmont surprised
Brussels by making their appearance in a new livery.  Doublet and hose of
the coarsest grey, and long hanging sleeves, without gold or silver lace,
and having but a single ornament, comprised the whole costume.  An emblem
which seemed to resemble a monk's cowl, or a fool's cap and bells, was
embroidered upon each sleeve.  The device pointed at the Cardinal, as
did, by contrast, the affected coarseness of the dress.  There was no
doubt as to the meaning of the hood, but they who saw in the symbol more
resemblance to the jester's cap, recalled certain biting expressions
which Granvelle had been accustomed to use.  He had been wont, in the
days of his greatest insolence, to speak of the most eminent nobles as
zanies, lunatics, and buffoons.  The embroidered fool's cap was supposed
to typify the gibe, and to remind the arrogant priest that a Brutus, as
in the olden time, might be found lurking in the costume of the fool.
However witty or appropriate the invention, the livery had an immense
success.  According to agreement, the nobles who had dined with the
treasurer ordered it for all their servants.  Never did a new dress
become so soon the fashion.  The unpopularity of the minister assisted
the quaintness of the device.  The fool's-cap livery became the rage.
Never was such a run upon the haberdashers, mercers, and tailors, since
Brussels had been a city.  All the frieze-cloth in Brabant was exhausted.
All the serge in Flanders was clipped into monastic cowls.  The Duchess
at first laughed with the rest, but the Cardinal took care that the king
should be at once informed upon the subject.  The Regent was, perhaps,
not extremely sorry to see the man ridiculed whom she so cordially
disliked, and, she accepted the careless excuses made on the subject by
Egmont and by Orange without severe criticism.  She wrote to her brother
that, although the gentlemen had been influenced by no evil intention,
she had thought it best to exhort them not to push the jest too far.
Already, however, she found that two thousand pairs, of sleeves had been
made, and the most she could obtain was that the fools' caps, or monks'
hoods, should in future be omitted from the livery.  A change was
accordingly made in the costume, at about the time of the cardinal's
departure.

A bundle of arrows, or in some instances a wheat-sheaf, was substituted
for the cowls.  Various interpretations were placed upon this new emblem.
According to the nobles themselves, it denoted the union of all their
hearts in the King's service, while their enemies insinuated that it was
obviously a symbol of conspiracy.  The costume thus amended was worn by
the gentlemen themselves, as well as by their servants.  Egmont dined at
the Regent's table, after the Cardinal's departure, in a camlet doublet,
with hanging sleeves, and buttons stamped with the bundle of arrows.

For the present, the Cardinal affected to disapprove of the fashion only
from its rebellious tendency.  The fools' caps and cowls, he meekly
observed to Philip, were the least part of the offence, for an injury to
himself could be easily forgiven.  The wheat-sheaf and the arrow-bundles,
however, were very vile things, for they betokened and confirmed the
existence of a conspiracy, such as never could be tolerated by a prince
who had any regard for his own authority.

This incident of the livery occupied the public attention, and inflamed
the universal hatred during the later months of the minister's residence
in the country.  Meantime the three seigniors had become very impatient
at receiving no answer to their letter.  Margaret of Parma was urging
her brother to give them satisfaction, repeating to him their bitter
complaints that their characters and conduct were the subject of constant
misrepresentation to their sovereign, and picturing her own isolated
condition.  She represented herself as entirely deprived of the support
of those great personages, who, despite her positive assurances to the
contrary, persisted in believing that they were held up to the King as
conspirators, and were in danger of being punished as traitors.  Philip,
on his part, was conning Granvelle's despatches, filled with hints of
conspiracy, and holding counsel with Alva, who had already recommended
the taking off several heads for treason.  The Prince of Orange, who
already had secret agents in the King's household, and was supplied with
copies of the most private papers in the palace, knew better than to be
deceived by the smooth representations of the Regent.  Philip had,
however, at last begun secretly to yield.  He asked Alva's advice whether
on the whole it would not be better to let the Cardinal leave the
Netherlands, at least for a time, on pretence of visiting his mother in
Burgundy, and to invite Count Egmont to Madrid, by way of striking one
link from the chain, as Granvelle had suggested.  The Duke had replied
that he had no doubt of the increasing insolence of the three seigniors,
as depicted in the letters of the Duchess Margaret, nor of their
intention to make the Cardinal their first victim; it being the regular
principle in all revolts against the sovereign, to attack the chief
minister in the first place.  He could not, however, persuade himself
that the King should yield and Granvelle be recalled.  Nevertheless,
if it were to be done at all, he preferred that the Cardinal should
go to Burgundy without leave asked either of the Duchess or of Philip;
and that he should then write; declining to return, on the ground that
his life was not safe in the Netherlands.

After much hesitation, the monarch at last settled upon a plan, which
recommended itself through the extreme duplicity by which it was marked,
and the complicated system of small deceptions, which it consequently
required.  The King, who was never so thoroughly happy or at home as when
elaborating the ingredients of a composite falsehood, now busily employed
himself in his cabinet.  He measured off in various letters to the
Regent, to the three nobles, to Egmont alone, and to Granvelle, certain
proportionate parts of his whole plan, which; taken separately, were
intended to deceive, and did deceive nearly every person in the world,
not only in his own generation, but for three centuries afterwards, but
which arranged synthetically, as can now be done, in consequence of
modern revelations, formed one complete and considerable lie, the
observation of which furnishes the student with a lesson in the political
chemistry of those days, which was called Macchiavellian statesmanship.
The termination of the Granvelle regency is, moreover, most important,
not only for the grave and almost interminable results to which it led,
but for the illustration which it affords of the inmost characters of the
Cardinal and "his master."

The courier who was to take Philip's letters to the three nobles was
detained three weeks, in order to allow Armenteros, who was charged with
the more important and secret despatches for the Duchess and Granvelle to
reach Brussels first.  All the letters, however, were ready at the same
time.  The letter of instructions for Armenteros enjoined upon that envoy
to tell the Regent that the heretics were to be chastised with renewed
vigor, that she was to refuse to convoke the states-general under any
pretext, and that if hard pressed, she was to refer directly to the King.
With regard to Granvelle, the secretary was to state that his Majesty was
still deliberating, and that the Duchess would be informed as to the
decision when it should be made.  He was to express the royal
astonishment that the seigniors should absent themselves from the state
council, with a peremptory intimation that they should immediately return
to their posts.  As they had specified no particularities against the
Cardinal, the King would still reflect upon the subject.

He also wrote a private note to the Duchess, stating that he had not yet
sent the letters for the three nobles, because he wished that Armenteros
should arrive before their courier.  He, however, enclosed two notes for
Egmont, of which Margaret was to deliver that one, which, in her opinion,
was, under the circumstances, the best.  In one of these missives the
King cordially accepted, and in the other he politely declined Egmont's
recent offer to visit Spain.  He also forwarded a private letter in his
own hand-writing to the Cardinal.  Armenteros, who travelled but slowly
on account of the state of his health, arrived in Brussels towards the
end of February. Five or six days afterwards, on the 1st March, namely,
the courier arrived bringing the despatches for the seigniors.  In his
letter to Orange, Egmont, and Horn, the King expressed his astonishment
at their resolution to abstain from the state council.  Nevertheless,
said he, imperatively, fail not to return thither and to show how much
more highly you regard my service and the good of the country than any
other particularity whatever.  As to Granvelle, continued Philip, since
you will not make any specifications, my intention is to think over the
matter longer, in order to arrange it as may seem most fitting.

This letter was dated February 19 (1564), nearly a month later therefore
than the secret letter to Granvelle, brought by Armenteros, although all
the despatches had been drawn up at the same time and formed parts of the
same plan.  In this brief note to Granvelle, however, lay the heart of
the whole mystery.

"I have reflected much," wrote the King, "on all that you have written
me during these last few months, concerning the ill-will borne you by
certain personages.  I notice also your suspicions that if a revolt
breaks out, they will commence with your person, thus taking occasion to
proceed from that point to the accomplishment of their ulterior designs.
I have particularly taken into consideration the notice received by you
from the curate of Saint Gudule, as well as that which you have learned
concerning the Genoese who is kept at Weert; all which has given me much
anxiety as well from my desire for the preservation of your life in which
my service is so deeply interested, as for the possible results if any
thing should happen to you, which God forbid.  I have thought, therefore,
that it would be well, in order to give time and breathing space to the
hatred and rancor which those persons entertain towards you, and in order
to see what coarse they will take in preparing the necessary remedy, for
the provinces, for you to leave the country for some days, in order to
visit your mother, and this with the knowledge of the Duchess, my sister,
and with her permission, which you will request, and which I have written
to her that she must give, without allowing it to appear that you have
received orders to that effect from me.  You will also beg her to write
to me requesting my approbation of what she is to do.  By taking this
course neither my authority nor yours will suffer prejudice; and
according to the turn which things may take, measures may be taken for
your return when expedient, and for whatever else there may be to
arrange."

Thus, in two words, Philip removed the unpopular minister forever.
The limitation of his absence had no meaning, and was intended to have
none.  If there were not strength enough to keep the Cardinal in his
place, it was not probable that the more difficult task of reinstating
him after his fall would be very soon attempted.  It, seemed, however,
to be dealing more tenderly with Granvelle's self-respect thus to leave
a vague opening for a possible return, than to send him an unconditional
dismissal.

Thus, while the King refused to give any weight to the representations of
the nobles, and affected to be still deliberating whether or not he
should recall the Cardinal, he had in reality already recalled him.  All
the minute directions according to which permission was to be asked of
the Duchess to take a step which had already been prescribed by the
monarch, and Philip's indulgence craved for obeying his own explicit
injunctions, were fulfilled to the letter.

As soon as the Cardinal received the royal order, he privately made
preparations for his departure.  The Regent, on the other hand, delivered
to Count Egmont the one of Philip's two letters in which that gentleman's
visit was declined, the Duchess believing that, in the present position
of affairs, she should derive more assistance from him than from the rest
of the seigniors.  As Granvelle, however, still delayed his departure,
even after the arrival of the second courier, she was again placed in a
situation of much perplexity.  The three nobles considered Philip's
letter to them extremely "dry and laconic," and Orange absolutely refused
to comply with the order to re-enter the state council.  At a session of
that body, on the 3d of March, where only Granvelle, Viglius, and
Berlaymont were present, Margaret narrated her fruitless attempts to
persuade the seigniors into obedience to the royal orders lately
transmitted, and asked their opinions.  The extraordinary advice was
then given, that "she should let them champ the bit a little while
longer, and afterwards see what was to be done."  Even at the last
moment, the Cardinal, reluctant to acknowledge himself beaten, although
secretly desirous to retire, was inclined for a parting struggle.  The
Duchess, however, being now armed with the King's express commands, and
having had enough of holding the reins while such powerful and restive
personages were "champing the bit," insisted privately that the Cardinal
should make his immediate departure known.  Pasquinades and pamphlets
were already appearing daily, each more bitter than the other; the livery
was spreading rapidly through all classes of people, and the seigniors
most distinctly refused to recede from their determination of absenting
themselves from the council so long as Granvelle remained.  There was no
help for it; and on the 13th of March the Cardinal took his departure.
Notwithstanding the mystery of the whole proceeding, however, William of
Orange was not deceived.  He felt certain that the minister had been
recalled, and thought it highly improbable that he would ever be
permitted to return.  "Although the Cardinal talks of coming back again
soon," wrote the Prince to Schwartzburg, "we nevertheless hope that, as
he lied about his departure, so he will also spare the truth in his
present assertions."  This was the general conviction, so far as the
question of the minister's compulsory retreat was concerned, of all those
who were in the habit of receiving their information and their opinions
from the Prince of Orange.  Many even thought that Granvelle had been
recalled with indignity and much against his will.  "When the Cardinal,"
wrote Secretary Lorich to Count Louis, "received the King's order to go,
he growled like a bear, and kept himself alone in his chamber for a time,
making his preparations for departure.  He says he shall come back in two
months, but some of us think they will be two long months which will eat
themselves up like money borrowed of the Jews."  A wag, moreover, posted
a large placard upon the door of Granvelle's palace in Brussels as soon
as the minister's departure was known, with the inscription, in large
letters, "For sale, immediately."  In spite of the royal ingenuity,
therefore, many shrewdly suspected the real state of the case, although
but very few actually knew the truth.

The Cardinal left Brussels with a numerous suite, stately equipages,
and much parade.  The Duchess provided him with her own mules and with
a sufficient escort, for the King had expressly enjoined that every care
should be taken against any murderous attack.  There was no fear of such
assault, however, for all were sufficiently satisfied to see the minister
depart.  Brederode and Count Hoogstraaten were standing together, looking
from the window of a house near the gate of Caudenberg, to feast their
eyes with the spectacle of their enemy's retreat.  As soon as the
Cardinal had passed through that gate, on his way to Namur, the first
stage of his journey, they rushed into the street, got both upon one
horse, Hoogstraaten, who alone had boots on his legs, taking the saddle
and Brederode the croup, and galloped after the Cardinal, with the
exultation of school-boys.  Thus mounted, they continued to escort the
Cardinal on his journey.  At one time, they were so near his carriage,
while it was passing through a ravine, that they might have spoken to him
from the heights above, where they had paused to observe him; but they
pulled the capes of their cloaks over their faces and suffered him to
pass unchallenged.  "But they are young folk," said the Cardinal,
benignantly, after relating all these particulars to the Duchess, "and
one should pay little regard to their actions."  He added, that one of
Egmont's gentlemen dogged their party on the journey, lodging in the same
inns with them, apparently in the hope of learning something from their
conversation or proceedings.  If that were the man's object, however,
Granvelle expressed the conviction that he was disappointed, as nothing
could have been more merry than the whole company, or more discreet than
their conversation.

The Cardinal began at once to put into operation the system of deception,
as to his departure, which had been planned by Philip.  The man who had
been ordered to leave the Netherlands by the King, and pushed into
immediate compliance with the royal command by the Duchess, proceeded to
address letters both to Philip and Margaret.  He wrote from Namur to beg
the Regent that she would not fail to implore his Majesty graciously to
excuse his having absented himself for private reasons at that particular
moment.  He wrote to Philip from Besancon, stating that his desire to
visit his mother, whom he had not seen for nineteen years, and his natal
soil, to which he had been a stranger during the same period, had induced
him to take advantage of his brother's journey to accompany him for a few
days into Burgundy.  He had, therefore, he said, obtained the necessary
permission from the Duchess, who had kindly promised to write very
particularly by the first courier, to beg his Majesty's approval of the
liberty which they had both taken.  He wrote from the same place to the
Regent again, saying that some of the nobles pretended to have learned
from Armenteros that the King had ordered the Cardinal to leave the
country and not to return; all which, he added, was a very false
Renardesque invention, at which he did nothing but laugh.

As a matter of course, his brother, in whose company he was about to
visit the mother whom he had not seen for the past nineteen years, was as
much mystified as the rest of the world.  Chantonnay was not aware that
any thing but the alleged motives had occasioned the journey, nor did he
know that his brother would perhaps have omitted to visit their common
parent for nineteen years longer had he not received the royal order to
leave the Netherlands.

Philip, on the other side, had sustained his part, in the farce with much
ability.  Viglius, Berlaymont, Morillon, and all the lesser cardinalists
were entirely taken in by the letters which were formally despatched to
the Duchess in reply to her own and the Cardinal's notification.  "I can
not take it amiss," wrote the King, "that you have given leave of absence
to Cardinal de Granvelle, for two or three months, according to the
advices just received from you, that he may attend to some private
affairs of his own."  As soon as these letters had been read in the
council, Viglius faithfully transmitted them to Granvelle for that
personage's enlightenment; adding his own innocent reflection, that "this
was very different language from that held by some people, that your most
illustrious lordship had retired by order of his Majesty."  Morillon also
sent the Cardinal a copy of the same passage in the royal despatch,
saying, very wisely, "I wonder what they will all say now, since these
letters have been read in council."  The Duchess, as in duty bound,
denied flatly, on all occasions, that Armenteros had brought any letters
recommending or ordering the minister's retreat.  She conscientiously
displayed the letters of his Majesty, proving the contrary, and yet, said
Viglius, it was very hard to prevent people talking as they liked.
Granvelle omitted no occasion to mystify every one of his correspondents
on the subject, referring, of course, to the same royal letters which had
been written for public reading, expressly to corroborate these
statements.  "You see by his Majesty's letters to Madame de Parma," said
he to Morillon, "how false is the report that the King had ordered me to
leave Flanders, and in what confusion those persons find themselves who
fabricated the story."  It followed of necessity that he should carry out
his part in the royal program, but he accomplished his task so adroitly,
and with such redundancy of zeal, as to show his thorough sympathy with
the King's policy.  He dissembled with better grace, even if the King did
it more naturally.  Nobody was too insignificant to be deceived, nobody
too august.  Emperor Ferdinand fared no better than "Esquire" Bordey.
"Some of those who hate me," he wrote to the potentate, "have circulated
the report that I had been turned out of the country, and was never to
return.  This story has ended in smoke, since the letters written by his
Majesty to the Duchess of Parma on the subject of the leave of absence
which she had given me."  Philip himself addressed a private letter to
Granvelle, of course that others might see it, in which he affected to
have just learned that the Cardinal had obtained permission from the
Regent "to make a visit to his mother, in order to arrange certain family
matters," and gravely gave his approbation to the step.  At the same time
it was not possible for the King to resist the temptation of adding one
other stroke of dissimulation to his own share in the comedy.  Granvelle
and Philip had deceived all the world, but Philip also deceived
Granvelle.  The Cardinal made a mystery of his departure to Pollwiller,
Viglius, Morillon, to the Emperor, to his own brother, and also to the
King's secretary, Gonzalo Perez; but he was not aware that Perez, whom he
thought himself deceiving as ingeniously as he had done all the others,
had himself drawn up the letter of recall, which the King had afterwards
copied out in his own hand and marked "secret and confidential."  Yet
Granvelle might have guessed that in such an emergency Philip would
hardly depend upon his own literary abilities.

Granvelle remained month after month in seclusion, doing his best to
philosophize.  Already, during the latter period of his residence in the
Netherlands, he had lived in a comparative and forced solitude.  His
house had been avoided by those power-worshippers whose faces are rarely
turned to the setting sun.  He had, in consequence, already, before his
departure, begun to discourse on the beauties of retirement, the fatigues
of greatness, and the necessity of repose for men broken with the storms
of state.  A great man was like a lake, he said, to which a thirsty
multitude habitually resorted till the waters were troubled, sullied,
and finally exhausted.  Power looked more attractive in front than in the
retrospect.  That which men possessed was ever of less value than that
which they hoped.  In this fine strain of eloquent commonplace the
falling minister had already begun to moralize upon the vanity of human
wishes.  When he was established at his charming retreat in Burgundy,
he had full leisure to pursue the theme.  He remained in retirement till
his beard grew to his waist, having vowed, according to report, that he
would not shave till recalled to the Netherlands.  If the report were
true, said some of the gentlemen in the provinces, it would be likely to
grow to his feet.  He professed to wish himself blind and deaf that he
might have no knowledge of the world's events, described himself as
buried in literature, and fit for no business save to remain in his
chamber, fastened to his books, or occupied with private affairs and
religious exercises.  He possessed a most charming residence at Orchamps,
where he spent a great portion of his time.  In one of his letters to
Vice-Chancellor Seld, he described the beauties of this retreat with
much delicacy and vigor--"I am really not as badly off here," said he,
"as I should be in the Indies.  I am in sweet places where I have wished
for you a thousand times, for I am certain that you would think them
appropriate for philosophy and worthy the habitation of the Muses.
Here are beautiful mountains, high as heaven, fertile on all their sides,
wreathed with vineyards, and rich with every fruit; here are rivers
flowing through charming valleys, the waters clear as crystal, filled
with trout, breaking into numberless cascades.  Here are umbrageous
groves, fertile fields, lovely meadows; on the one aide great warmth,
on the other aide delectable coolness, despite the summer's heat.  Nor is
there any lack of good company, friends, and relations, with, as you well
know, the very best wines in the world."

Thus it is obvious that the Cardinal was no ascetic.  His hermitage
contained other appliances save those for study and devotion.  His
retired life was, in fact, that of a voluptuary.  His brother,
Chantonnay, reproached him with the sumptuousness and disorder of his
establishment.  He lived in "good and joyous cheer."  He professed to be
thoroughly satisfied with the course things had taken, knowing that God
was above all, and would take care of all.  He avowed his determination
to extract pleasure and profit even from the ill will of his adversaries.
"Behold my philosophy," he cried, "to live joyously as possible, laughing
at the world, at passionate people, and at all their calumnies."
It is evident that his philosophy, if it had any real existence,
was sufficiently Epicurean.  It was, however, mainly compounded of
pretence, like his whole nature and his whole life.  Notwithstanding
the mountains high as heaven, the cool grottos, the trout, and the best
Burgundy wines in the world, concerning which he descanted so eloquently,
he soon became in reality most impatient of his compulsory seclusion.
His pretence of "composing himself as much as possible to tranquillity
and repose" could deceive none of the intimate associates to whom he
addressed himself in that edifying vein.  While he affected to be blind
and deaf to politics, he had eyes and ears for nothing else.  Worldly
affairs were his element, and he was shipwrecked upon the charming
solitude which he affected to admire.  He was most anxious to return to
the world again, but he had difficult cards to play.  His master was even
more dubious than usual about everything.  Granvelle was ready to remain
in Burgundy as long as Philip chose that he should remain there.  He was
also ready to go to "India, Peru, or into the fire," whenever his King
should require any such excursion, or to return to the Netherlands,
confronting any danger which might lie in his path.  It is probable that
he nourished for a long time a hope that the storm would blow over in the
provinces, and his resumption of power become possible.  William of
Orange, although more than half convinced that no attempt would be made
to replace the minister, felt it necessary to keep strict watch on his
movements.  "We must be on our guard," said he, "and not be deceived.
Perhaps they mean to put us asleep, in order the better to execute their
designs.  For the present things are peaceable, and all the world is
rejoiced at the departure of that good Cardinal."  The Prince never
committed the error of undervaluing the talents of his great adversary,
and he felt the necessity of being on the alert in the present emergency.
"'Tis a sly and cunning bird that we are dealing with," said he,
"one that sleeps neither day nor night if a blow is to be dealt to us."
Honest Brederode, after solacing himself with the spectacle of his
enemy's departure, soon began to suspect his return, and to express
himself on the subject, as usual, with ludicrous vehemence.  "They say
the red fellow is back again," he wrote to Count Louis, "and that
Berlaymont has gone to meet him at Namur.  The Devil after the two would
be a good chase."  Nevertheless, the chances of that return became daily
fainter.  Margaret of Parma hated the Cardinal with great cordiality.
She fell out of her servitude to him into far more contemptible hands,
but for a brief interval she seemed to take a delight in the recovery of
her freedom.  According to Viglius, the court, after Granvelle's
departure, was like a school of boys and girls when the pedagogue's back
is turned.  He was very bitter against the Duchess for her manifest joy
at emancipation.  The poor President was treated with the most marked
disdain by Margaret, who also took pains to show her dislike to all the
cardinalists.  Secretary Armenteros forbade Bordey, who was Granvelle's
cousin and dependent, from even speaking to him in public.  The Regent
soon became more intimate with Orange and Egmont than she had ever been
with the Cardinal.  She was made to see--and, seeing, she became
indignant--the cipher which she had really been during his
administration.  "One can tell what's o'clock," wrote Morillon to the
fallen minister, "since she never writes to you nor mentions your name."
As to Armenteros, with whom Granvelle was still on friendly relations,
he was restless in his endeavors to keep the once-powerful priest from
rising again.  Having already wormed himself into the confidence of the
Regent, he made a point of showing to the principal seigniors various
letters, in which she had been warned by the Cardinal to put no trust in
them.  "That devil," said Armenteros, "thought he had got into Paradise
here; but he is gone, and we shall take care that he never returns."
It was soon thought highly probable that the King was but temporizing,
and that the voluntary departure of the minister had been a deception.
Of course nothing was accurately known upon the subject.  Philip had
taken good care of that, but meantime the bets were very high that there
would be no restoration, with but few takers.  Men thought if there had
been any royal favor remaining for the great man, that the Duchess would
not be so decided in her demeanor on the subject.  They saw that she was
scarlet with indignation whenever the Cardinal's name was mentioned.
They heard her thank Heaven that she had but one son, because if she had
had a second he must have been an ecclesiastic, and as vile as priests
always were.  They witnessed the daily contumely which she heaped upon
poor Viglius, both because he was a friend of Granvelle and was preparing
in his old age to take orders.  The days were gone, indeed, when Margaret
was so filled with respectful affection for the prelate, that she could
secretly correspond with the Holy Father at Rome, and solicit the red hat
for the object of her veneration.  She now wrote to Philip, stating that
she was better informed as to affairs in the Netherlands than she had
ever formerly been.  She told her brother that all the views of Granvelle
and of his followers, Viglius with the rest, had tended to produce a
revolution which they hoped that Philip would find in full operation when
he should come to the Netherlands.  It was their object, she said, to
fish in troubled waters, and, to attain that aim, they had ever pursued
the plan of gaining the exclusive control of all affairs.  That was the
reason why they had ever opposed the convocation of the states-general.
They feared that their books would be read, and their frauds, injustice,
simony, and rapine discovered.  This would be the result, if tranquillity
were restored to the country, and therefore they had done their best to
foment and maintain discord.  The Duchess soon afterwards entertained her
royal brother with very detailed accounts of various acts of simony,
peculation, and embezzlement committed by Viglius, which the Cardinal had
aided and abetted, and by which he had profited.--[Correspondence de
Phil.  II, i. 318-320.]--These revelations are inestimable in a
historical point of view.  They do not raise our estimate of Margaret's
character, but they certainly give us a clear insight into the nature of
the Granvelle administration.  At the same time it was characteristic of
the Duchess, that while she was thus painting the portrait of the
Cardinal for the private eye of his sovereign, she should address the
banished minister himself in a secret strain of condolence, and even of
penitence.  She wrote to assure Granvelle that she repented extremely
having adopted the views of Orange.  She promised that she would state.
publicly every where that the Cardinal was an upright man, intact in his
morals and his administration, a most zealous and faithful servant of the
King.  She added that she recognized the obligations she was under to
him, and that she loved him like a brother.  She affirmed that if the
Flemish seigniors had induced her to cause the Cardinal to be deprived of
the government, she was already penitent, and that her fault deserved
that the King, her brother, should cut off her head, for having
occasioned so great a calamity.--["Memoires de Granvelle," tom. 33,
p. 67.]

There was certainly discrepancy between the language thus used
simultaneously by the Duchess to Granvelle and to Philip, but Margaret
had been trained in the school of Macchiavelli, and had sat at the feet
of Loyola.

The Cardinal replied with equal suavity, protesting that such a letter
from the Duchess left him nothing more to desire, as it furnished him
with an "entire and perfect justification" of his conduct.  He was aware
of her real sentiments, no doubt, but he was too politic to quarrel with
so important a personage as Philip's sister.

An incident which occurred a few months after the minister's departure
served, to show the general estimation in which he was held by a11 ranks
of Netherlanders.  Count Mansfeld celebrated the baptism of his son,
Philip Octavian, by a splendid series of festivities at Luxemburg, the
capital of his government.  Besides the tournaments and similar sports,
with which the upper classes of European society were accustomed at that
day to divert themselves, there was a grand masquerade, to which the
public were admitted as spectators.  In this "mummery" the most
successful spectacle was that presented by a group arranged in obvious
ridicule of Granvelle.  A figure dressed in Cardinal's costume, with the
red hat upon his head, came pacing through the arena upon horseback.
Before him marched a man attired like a hermit, with long white beard,
telling his beads upon a rosary, which he held ostentatiously in his
hands.  Behind the mounted Cardinal came the Devil, attired in the usual
guise considered appropriate to the Prince of Darkness, who scourged both
horse and rider with a whip of fog-tails, causing them to scamper about
the lists in great trepidation, to the immense delight of the spectators.
The practical pun upon Simon Renard's name embodied in the fox-tail, with
the allusion to the effect of the manifold squibs perpetrated by that
most bitter and lively enemy upon Granvelle, were understood and relished
by the multitude.  Nothing could be more hearty than the blows bestowed
upon the minister's representative, except the applause with which this
satire, composed of actual fustigation, was received.  The humorous
spectacle absorbed all the interest of the masquerade, and was frequently
repeated.  It seemed difficult to satisfy the general desire to witness a
thorough chastisement of the culprit.

The incident made a great noise in the country.  The cardinalists felt
naturally very much enraged, but they were in a minority.  No censure
came from the government at Brussels, and Mansfeld was then and for a
long time afterwards the main pillar of royal authority in the
Netherlands.  It was sufficiently obvious that Granvelle, for the time at
least, was supported by no party of any influence.

Meantime he remained in his seclusion.  His unpopularity did not,
however, decrease in his absence.  More than a year after his departure,
Berlaymont said the nobles detested the Cardinal more than ever, and
would eat him alive if they caught him.  The chance of his returning was
dying gradually out.  At about the same period Chantonnay advised his
brother to show his teeth.  He assured Granvelle that he was too quiet in
his disgrace, reminded him that princes had warm affections when they
wished to make use of people, but that when they could have them too
cheaply, they esteemed them but little; making no account of men whom
they were accustomed to see under their feet.  He urged the Cardinal, in
repeated letters, to take heart again, to make himself formidable, and to
rise from his crouching attitude.  All the world say, he remarked, that
the game is up between the King and yourself, and before long every one
will be laughing at you, and holding you for a dupe.

Stung or emboldened by these remonstrances, and weary of his retirement,
Granvelle at last abandoned all intention of returning to the
Netherlands, and towards the end of 1565, departed to Rome, where he
participated in the election of Pope Pius V.  Five years afterwards he
was employed by Philip to negotiate the treaty between Spain, Rome, and
Venice against the Turk.  He was afterwards Viceroy of Naples, and in
1575, he removed to Madrid, to take an active part in the management of
the public business, "the disorder of which," says the Abbe Boisot,
"could be no longer arrested by men of mediocre capacity."  He died in
that city on the 21st September, 1586, at the age of seventy, and was
buried at Besancon.

We have dwelt at length on the administration of this remarkable
personage, because the period was one of vital importance in the history
of the Netherland commonwealth.  The minister who deals with the country
at an epoch when civil war is imminent, has at least as heavy a
responsibility upon his head as the man who goes forth to confront the
armed and full-grown rebellion.  All the causes out of which the great
revolt was born, were in violent operation during the epoch of
Granvelle's power.  By the manner in which he comported himself in
presence of those dangerous and active elements of the coming
convulsions, must his character as a historical personage be measured.
His individuality had so much to do with the course of the government,
the powers placed in his hands were so vast, and his energy so untiring,
that it is difficult to exaggerate the importance of his influence upon
the destiny of the country which he 'vas permitted to rule.  It is for
this reason that we have been at great pains to present his picture,
sketched as it were by his own hand.  A few general remarks are, however,
necessary.  It is the historian's duty to fix upon one plain and definite
canvas the chameleon colors in which the subtle Cardinal produced his own
image.  Almost any theory concerning his character might be laid down and
sustained by copious citations from his works; nay, the most opposite
conclusions as to his interior nature, may be often drawn from a single
one of his private and interminable letters.  Embarked under his
guidance, it is often difficult to comprehend the point to which we are
tending.  The oarsman's face beams upon us with serenity, but he looks in
one direction, and rows in the opposite course.  Even thus it was three
centuries ago.  Was it to be wondered at that many did not see the
precipice towards which the bark which held their all was gliding under
the same impulse?

No man has ever disputed Granvelle's talents.  From friend and foe his
intellect has received the full measure of applause which it could ever
claim.  No doubt his genius was of a rare and subtle kind.  His great
power was essentially dramatic in its nature.  He mastered the characters
of the men with whom he had to deal, and then assumed them.  He practised
this art mainly upon personages of exalted station, for his scheme was to
govern the world by acquiring dominion over its anointed rulers.  A
smooth and supple slave in appearance, but, in reality, while his power
lasted, the despot of his masters, he exercised boundless control by
enacting their parts with such fidelity that they were themselves
deceived.  It is impossible not to admire the facility with which this
accomplished Proteus successively assumed the characters of Philip and of
Margaret, through all the complicated affairs and voluminous
correspondence of his government.

When envoys of high rank were to be despatched on confidential missions
to Spain, the Cardinal drew their instructions as the Duchess--threw
light upon their supposed motives in secret letters as the King's sister
--and answered their representations with ponderous wisdom as Philip;
transmitting despatches, letters and briefs for royal conversations,
in time to be thoroughly studied before the advent of the ambassador.
Whoever travelled from Brussels to Madrid in order to escape the
influence of the ubiquitous Cardinal, was sure to be confronted with him
in the inmost recesses of the King's cabinet as soon as he was admitted
to an audience.  To converse with Philip or Margaret was but to commune
with Antony.  The skill with which he played his game, seated quietly in
his luxurious villa, now stretching forth one long arm to move the King
at Madrid, now placing Margaret upon what square he liked, and dealing
with Bishops, Knight of the Fleece, and lesser dignitaries, the
Richardota, the Morillons, the Viglii and the Berlaymonts, with sole
reference to his own scheme of action, was truly of a nature to excite
our special wonder.  His aptitude for affairs and his power to read
character were extraordinary; but it was necessary that the affairs
should be those of a despotism, and the characters of an inferior nature.
He could read Philip and Margaret, Egmont or Berlaymont, Alva or Viglius,
but he had no plummet to sound the depths of a mind like that of William
the Silent.  His genius was adroit and subtle, but not profound.  He
aimed at power by making the powerful subservient, but he had not the
intellect which deals in the daylight face to face with great events and
great minds.  In the violent political struggle of which his
administration consisted, he was foiled and thrown by the superior
strength of a man whose warfare was open and manly, and who had no
defence against the poisoned weapons of his foe.

His literary accomplishments were very great.  His fecundity was
prodigious, and he wrote at will in seven languages.  'This polyglot
facility was not in itself a very remarkable circumstance, for it grew
out of his necessary education and geographical position.  Few men in
that age and region were limited to their mother tongue.  The Prince of
Orange, who made no special pretence to learning, possessed at least five
languages.  Egmont, who was accounted an ignorant man, was certainly
familiar with three.  The Cardinal, however, wrote not only with ease,
but with remarkable elegance, vigor and vivacity, in whatever language he
chose to adopt.  The style of his letters and other documents, regarded
simply as compositions, was inferior to that of no writer of the age.
His occasional orations, too, were esteemed models of smooth and flowing
rhetoric, at an epoch when the art of eloquence was not much cultivated.
Yet it must be allowed that beneath all the shallow but harmonious flow
of his periods, it would be idle to search for a grain of golden sand.
Not a single sterling, manly thought is to be found in all his
productions.  If at times our admiration is excited with the appearance
of a gem of true philosophy, we are soon obliged to acknowledge, on
closer inspection, that we have been deceived by a false glitter.  In
retirement, his solitude was not relieved by serious application to any
branch of knowledge.  Devotion to science and to the advancement of
learning, a virtue which has changed the infamy of even baser natures
than his into glory, never dignified his seclusion.  He had elegant
tastes, he built fine palaces, he collected paintings, and he discoursed
of the fine arts with the skill and eloquence of a practised connoisseur;
but the nectared fruits of divine philosophy were but harsh and crabbed
to him.

His moral characteristics are even more difficult to seize than his
intellectual traits.  It is a perplexing task to arrive at the intimate
interior structure of a nature which hardly had an interior.  He did not
change, but he presented himself daily in different aspects.  Certain
peculiarities he possessed, however, which were unquestionable.  He was
always courageous, generally calm.  Placed in the midst of a nation which
hated him, exposed to the furious opposition of the most powerful
adversaries, having hardly a friend, except the cowardly Viglius and
the pluralist Morillon, secretly betrayed by Margaret of Parma, insulted
by rude grandees, and threatened by midnight assassins, he never lost
his self-possession, his smooth arrogance, his fortitude.  He was
constitutionally brave.  He was not passionate in his resentments.
To say that he was forgiving by nature would be an immense error;
but that he could put aside vengeance at the dictate of policy is very
certain.  He could temporize, even after the reception of what he
esteemed grave injuries, if the offenders were powerful.  He never
manifested rancor against the Duchess.  Even after his fall from power in
the Netherlands, he interceded with the Pope in favor of the principality
of Orange, which the pontiff was disposed to confiscate.  The Prince was
at that time as good a Catholic as the Cardinal.  He was apparently on
good terms with his sovereign, and seemed to have a prosperous career
before him.  He was not a personage to be quarrelled with.  At a later
day, when the position of that great man was most clearly defined to the
world, the Cardinal's ancient affection for his former friend and pupil
did not prevent him from suggesting the famous ban by which a price was
set upon his head, and his life placed in the hands of every assassin in
Europe.  It did not prevent him from indulging in the jocularity of a
fiend, when the news of the first-fruits of that bounty upon murder
reached his ears.  It did not prevent him from laughing merrily at the
pain which his old friend must have suffered, shot through the head and
face with a musket-ball, and at the mutilated aspect which his "handsome
face must have presented to the eyes of his apostate wife."  It did not
prevent him from stoutly disbelieving and then refusing to be comforted,
when the recovery of the illustrious victim was announced.  He could
always dissemble without entirely forgetting his grievances.  Certainly,
if he were the forgiving Christian he pictured himself, it is passing
strange to reflect upon the ultimate fate of Egmont, Horn, Montigny,
Berghen, Orange, and a host of others, whose relations with him were
inimical.

His extravagance was enormous, and his life luxurious.  At the same time
he could leave his brother Champagny--a man, with all his faults, of a
noble nature, and with scarcely inferior talents to his own--to languish
for a long time in abject poverty; supported by the charity of an ancient
domestic.  His greediness for wealth was proverbial.  No benefice was
too large or too paltry to escape absorption, if placed within his
possible reach.  Loaded with places and preferments, rolling in wealth,
he approached his sovereign with the whine of a mendicant.  He talked of
his property as a "misery," when he asked for boons, and expressed his
thanks in the language of a slave when he received them.  Having obtained
the abbey of St. Armand, he could hardly wait for the burial of the
Bishop of Tournay before claiming the vast revenues of Afflighem,
assuring the King as he did so that his annual income was but eighteen
thousand crowns.  At the same time, while thus receiving or pursuing the
vast rents of St. Armand and Afflighem, he could seize the abbey of
Trulle from the expectant hands of poor dependents, and accept tapestries
and hogsheads of wine from Jacques Lequien and others, as a tax on the
benefices which he procured for them.  Yet the man who, like his father
before him, had so long fattened on the public money, who at an early
day had incurred the Emperor's sharp reproof for his covetousness,
whose family, beside all these salaries and personal property, possessed
already fragments of the royal domain, in the shape of nineteen baronies
and seigniories in Burgundy, besides the county of Cantecroix and other
estates in the Netherlands, had the effrontery to affirm, "We have always
rather regarded the service of the master than our own particular
profit."

In estimating the conduct of the minister, in relation to the provinces,
we are met upon the threshold by a swarm of vague assertions which are of
a nature to blind or distract the judgment.  His character must be judged
as a whole, and by its general results, with a careful allowance for
contradictions and equivocations.  Truth is clear and single, but the
lights are parti-colored and refracted in the prism of hypocrisy.  The
great feature of his administration was a prolonged conflict between
himself and the leading seigniors of the Netherlands.  The ground of the
combat was the religious question.  Let the quarrel be turned or tortured
in any manner that human ingenuity can devise, it still remains
unquestionable that Granvelle's main object was to strengthen and to
extend the inquisition, that of his adversaries to overthrow the
institution.  It followed, necessarily, that the ancient charters were to
be trampled in the dust before that tribunal could be triumphant.  The
nobles, although all Catholics, defended the cause of the poor religious
martyrs, the privileges of the nation and the rights of their order.
They were conservatives, battling for the existence of certain great
facts, entirely consonant to any theory of justice and divine reason--for
ancient constitutions which had been purchased with blood and treasure.
"I will maintain," was the motto of William of Orange.  Philip, bigoted
and absolute almost beyond comprehension, might perhaps have proved
impervious to any representations, even of Granvelle.  Nevertheless, the
minister might have attempted the task, and the responsibility is heavy
upon the man who shared the power and directed the career, but who never
ceased to represent the generous resistance of individuals to frantic
cruelty, as offences against God and the King.

Yet extracts are drawn from his letters to prove that he considered the
Spaniards as "proud and usurping," that he indignantly denied ever having
been in favor of subjecting the Netherlands to the soldiers of that
nation; that he recommended the withdrawal of the foreign regiments, and
that he advised the King, when he came to the country, to bring with him
but few Spanish troops.  It should, however, be remembered that he
employed, according to his own statements, every expedient which human
ingenuity could suggest to keep the foreign soldiers in the provinces,
that he "lamented to his inmost soul' their forced departure, and that he
did not consent to that measure until the people were in a tumult, and
the Zealanders threatening to lay the country under the ocean.  "You may
judge of the means employed to excite the people," he wrote to Perez in
1563, "by the fact that a report is circulated that the Duke of Alva is
coming hither to tyrannize the provinces."  Yet it appears by the
admissions of Del Ryo, one of Alva's blood council, that, "Cardinal
Granvelle expressly advised that an army of Spaniards should be sent
to the Netherlands, to maintain the obedience to his Majesty and the
Catholic religion, and that the Duke of Alva was appointed chief by
the advice of Cardinal Spinosa, and by that of Cardinal Granvelle,
as, appeared by many letters written at the time to his friends.  By the
same confessions; it appeared that the course of policy thus distinctly
recommended by Granvelle, "was to place the country under a system of
government like that of Spain and Italy, and to reduce it entirely under
the council of Spain."  When the terrible Duke started on his errand of
blood and fire, the Cardinal addressed him, a letter of fulsome flattery;
protesting "that all the world know that no person could be found so
appropriate as he, to be employed in an affair of such importance;"
urging him to advance with his army as rapidly as possible upon the
Netherlands, hoping that "the Duchess of Parma would not be allowed to
consent that any pardon or concession should be made to the cities, by
which the construction of fortresses would be interfered with, or the
revocation of the charters which had been forfeited, be prevented,"
and giving him much advice as to the general measures to be adopted,
and the persons to be employed upon his arrival, in which number the
infamous Noircarmes was especially recommended. In a document found among
his papers, these same points, with others, were handled at considerable
length.  The incorporation of the provinces into one kingdom, of which
the King was to be crowned absolute sovereign; the establishment of,
a universal law for the Catholic religion, care being taken not to call
that law inquisition, "because there was nothing so odious to the
northern nations as the word Spanish Inquisition, although the thing in
itself be most holy and just;" the abolition and annihilation of the
broad or general council in the cities, the only popular representation
in the country; the construction of many citadels and fortresses to be
garrisoned with Spaniards, Italians, and Germans.  Such were the leading
features in that remarkable paper.

The manly and open opposition of the nobles was stigmatized as a cabal by
the offended priest.  He repeatedly whispered in the royal ear that their
league was a treasonable conspiracy, which the Attorney-General ought to
prosecute; that the seigniors meant to subvert entirely the authority of
the Sovereign; that they meant to put their King under tutelage, to
compel him to obey all their commands, to choose another prince of the
blood for their chief, to establish a republic by the aid of foreign
troops.  If such insinuations, distilled thus secretly into the ear of
Philip, who, like his predecessor, Dionysius, took pleasure in listening
daily to charges against his subjects and to the groans of his prisoners,
were not likely to engender a dangerous gangrene in the royal mind, it
would be difficult to indicate any course which would produce such a
result.  Yet the Cardinal maintained that he had never done the gentlemen
ill service, but that "they were angry with him for wishing to sustain
the authority of the master."  In almost every letter he expressed vague
generalities of excuse, or even approbation, while he chronicled each
daily fact which occurred to their discredit.  The facts he particularly
implored the King to keep to himself, the vague laudation he as urgently
requested him to repeat to those interested.  Perpetually dropping small
innuendos like pebbles into the depths of his master's suspicious soul,
he knew that at last the waters of bitterness would overflow, but he
turned an ever-smiling face upon those who were to be his victims.  There
was ever something in his irony like the bland request of the inquisitor
to the executioner that he would deal with his prisoners gently.  There
was about the same result in regard to such a prayer to be expected from
Philip as from the hangman.  Even if his criticisms had been uniformly
indulgent, the position of the nobles and leading citizens thus subjected
to a constant but secret superintendence, would have been too galling to
be tolerated.  They did not know, so precisely as we have learned after
three centuries, that all their idle words and careless gestures as well
as their graver proceedings, were kept in a noting book to be pored over
and conned by rote in the recesses of the royal cabinet and the royal
mind; but they suspected the espionage of the Cardinal, and they openly
charged him with his secret malignity.

The men who refused to burn their fellow-creatures for a difference in
religious opinion were stigmatized as demagogues; as ruined spendthrifts
who wished to escape from their liabilities in the midst of revolutionary
confusion; as disguised heretics who were waiting for a good opportunity
to reveal their true characters.  Montigny, who, as a Montmorency, was
nearly allied to the Constable and Admiral of France, and was in
epistolary correspondence with those relatives, was held up as a
Huguenot; of course, therefore, in Philip's eye, the most monstrous of
malefactors.

Although no man could strew pious reflections and holy texts more
liberally, yet there was always an afterthought even in his most edifying
letters.  A corner of the mask is occasionally lifted and the deadly face
of slow but abiding vengeance is revealed.  "I know very well," he wrote,
soon after his fall, to Viglius, "that vengeance is the Lord's-God is my
witness that I pardon all the past."  In the same letter, nevertheless,
he added, "My theology, however, does not teach me, that by enduring,
one is to enable one's enemies to commit even greater wrongs.  If the
royal justice is not soon put into play, I shall be obliged to right
myself.  This thing is going on too long-patience exhausted changes to
fury.  'Tis necessary that every man should assist himself as he can, and
when I choose to throw the game into confusion I shall do it perhaps more
notably than the others."  A few weeks afterwards, writing to the same
correspondent, he observed, "We shall have to turn again, and rejoice
together.  Whatever the King commands I shall do, even were I to march
into the fire, whatever happens, and without fear or respect for any
person I mean to remain the same man to the end--Durate;--and I have a
head that is hard enough when I do undertake any thing--'nec animism
despondeo'."  Here, certainly, was significant foreshadowing of the
general wrath to come, and it was therefore of less consequence that the
portraits painted by him of Berghen, Horn, Montigny, and others, were so
rarely relieved by the more flattering tints which he occasionally
mingled with the sombre coloring of his other pictures.  Especially with
regard to Count Egmont, his conduct was somewhat perplexing and, at first
sight, almost inscrutable.  That nobleman had been most violent in
opposition to his course, had drawn a dagger upon him, had frequently
covered him with personal abuse, and had crowned his offensive conduct
by the invention of the memorable fool's-cap: livery.  Yet the Cardinal
usually spoke of him with pity and gentle consideration, described him
as really well disposed in the main, as misled by others, as a "friend of
smoke," who might easily be gained by flattery and bribery.  When there
was question of the Count's going to Madrid, the Cardinal renewed his
compliments with additional expression of eagerness that they should be
communicated to their object.  Whence all this Christian meekness in the
author of the Ban against Orange and the eulogist of Alva?  The true
explanation of this endurance on the part of the Cardinal lies in the
estimate which he had formed of Egmont's character.  Granvelle had taken
the man's measure, and even he could not foresee the unparalleled cruelty
and dulness which were eventually to characterize Philip's conduct
towards him.  On the contrary, there was every reason why the Cardinal
should see in the Count a personage whom brilliant services, illustrious
rank, and powerful connexions, had marked for a prosperous future.  It
was even currently asserted that Philip was about to create him Governor-
General of the Netherlands, in order to detach him entirely from Orange,
and to bind him more closely to the Crown.  He was, therefore, a man to
be forgiven.  Nothing apparently but a suspicion of heresy could damage
the prospects of the great noble, and Egmont was orthodox beyond all
peradventure.  He was even a bigot in the Catholic faith.  He had
privately told the Duchess of Parma that he had always been desirous of
seeing the edicts thoroughly enforced; and he denounced as enemies all
those persons who charged him with ever having been in favor of
mitigating the System.  He was reported, to be sure, at about the time of
Granvelle's departure from the Netherlands, to have said "post pocula,
that the quarrel was not with the Cardinal, but with the King, who was
administering the public affairs very badly, even in the matter of
religion."  Such a bravado, however, uttered by a gentleman in his cups,
when flushed with a recent political triumph, could hardly outweigh in
the cautious calculations of Granvelle; distinct admissions in favor of
persecution.  Egmont in truth stood in fear of the inquisition.  The hero
of Gravelingen and St. Quentin actually trembled before Peter Titelmann.
Moreover, notwithstanding all that had past, he had experienced a change
in his sentiments in regard to the Cardinal.  He frequently expressed the
opinion that, although his presence in the Netherlands was inadmissible,
he should be glad to see him Pope.  He had expressed strong
disapprobation of the buffooning masquerade by which he had been
ridiculed at the Mansfeld christening party.  When at Madrid he not only
spoke well of Granvelle himself; but would allow nothing disparaging
concerning him to be uttered in his presence.  When, however, Egmont had
fallen from favor, and was already a prisoner, the Cardinal diligently
exerted himself to place under the King's eye what he considered the most
damning evidence of the Count's imaginary treason; a document with which
the public prosecutor had not been made acquainted.

Thus, it will be seen by this retrospect how difficult it is to seize all
the shifting subtleties of this remarkable character.  His sophisms even,
when self-contradictory, are so adroit that they are often hard to parry.
He made a great merit to himself for not having originated the new
episcopates; but it should be remembered that he did his utmost to
enforce the measure, which was "so holy a scheme that he would sacrifice
for its success his fortune and his life."  He refused the archbishopric
of Mechlin, but his motives for so doing were entirely sordid.  His
revenues were for the moment diminished, while his personal distinction
was not, in his opinion, increased by the promotion.  He refused to
accept it because "it was no addition to his dignity, as he was already
Cardinal and Bishop of Arras," but in this statement he committed an
important anachronism.  He was not Cardinal when he refused the see of
Mechlin; having received the red hat upon February 26, 1561, and having
already accepted the archbishopric in May of the preceding year.
He affirmed that "no man would more resolutely defend the liberty and
privileges of the provinces than he would do," but he preferred being
tyrannized by his prince, to maintaining the joyful entrance.  He
complained of the insolence of the states in meddling with the supplies;
he denounced the convocation of the representative bodies, by whose
action alone, what there was of "liberty and privilege" in the land could
be guarded; he recommended the entire abolition of the common councils in
the cities.  He described himself as having always combated the opinion
that "any thing could be accomplished by terror, death and violence," yet
he recommended the mission of Alva, in whom "terror, death, and violence"
were incarnate.  He was indignant that he should be accused of having
advised the introduction of the Spanish inquisition; but his reason was
that the term sounded disagreeably in northern ears, while the thing was
most commendable.  He manifested much anxiety that the public should be
disabused of their fear of the Spanish inquisition, but he was the
indefatigable supporter of the Netherland inquisition, which Philip
declared with reason to be "the more pitiless institution" of the two.
He was the author, not of the edicts, but of their re-enactment, verbally
and literally, in all the horrid extent to which they had been carried by
Charles the Fifth; and had recommended the use of the Emperor's name to
sanctify the infernal scheme.  He busied himself personally in the
execution of these horrible laws, even when judge and hangman slackened.
To the last he denounced all those "who should counsel his Majesty to
permit a moderation of the edicts," and warned the King that if he should
consent to the least mitigation of their provisions, things would go
worse in the provinces than in France.  He was diligent in establishing
the reinforced episcopal inquisition side by side with these edicts, and
with the papal inquisition already in full operation.  He omitted no
occasion of encouraging the industry of all these various branches in the
business of persecution.  When at last the loud cry from the oppressed
inhabitants of Flanders was uttered in unanimous denunciation by the four
estates of that province of the infamous Titelmann, the Cardinal's voice,
from the depths of his luxurious solitude, was heard, not in sympathy
with the poor innocent wretches, who were daily dragged from their humble
homes to perish by sword and fire, but in pity for the inquisitor who was
doing the work of hell.  "I deeply regret," he wrote to Viglius, "that
the states of Flanders should be pouting at inquisitor Titelmann.  Truly
he has good zeal, although sometimes indiscreet and noisy; still he must
be supported, lest they put a bridle upon him, by which his authority
will be quite enervated."  The reader who is acquainted with the
personality of Peter Titelmann can decide as to the real benignity of the
joyous epicurean who could thus commend and encourage such a monster of
cruelty.

If popularity be a test of merit in a public man, it certainly could not
be claimed by the Cardinal.  From the moment when Gresham declared him to
be "hated of all men," down to the period of his departure, the odium
resting upon him had been rapidly extending: He came to the country with
two grave accusations resting upon his name.  The Emperor Maximilian
asserted that the Cardinal had attempted to take his life by poison, and
he persisted in the truth of the charge thus made by him, till the day of
his death.  Another accusation was more generally credited.  He was the
author of the memorable forgery by which the Landgrave Philip of Hesse
had been entrapped into his long imprisonment.  His course in and towards
the Netherlands has been sufficiently examined.  Not a single charge has
been made lightly, but only after careful sifting of evidence.  Moreover
they are all sustained mainly from the criminal's own lips.  Yet when the
secrecy of the Spanish cabinet and the Macchiavellian scheme of policy by
which the age was characterized are considered, it is not strange that
there should have been misunderstandings and contradictions with regard
to the man's character till a full light had been thrown upon it by the
disinterment of ancient documents.  The word "Durate," which was the
Cardinals device, may well be inscribed upon his mask, which has at last
been torn aside, but which was formed of such durable materials, that it
has deceived the world for three centuries.



ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

Attempting to swim in two waters
Dissimulation and delay
Excited with the appearance of a gem of true philosophy
Insinuating suspicions when unable to furnish evidence
Maintaining the attitude of an injured but forgiving Christian
More accustomed to do well than to speak well
Perpetually dropping small innuendos like pebbles
Procrastination was always his first refuge
They had at last burned one more preacher alive





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