Though the emperor was no less a bigot than the son,—though from 1521 to 1555 no fewer than fifty thousand Protestants are said to have perished by fire or sword,—the Roman Catholics were by far the more numerous party, and ready to support him in his bloody proscriptions. But now the new opinions had seized on all classes of men, and their professors were approaching to a numerical level with the rest. This fact, however, was unknown to the government: many of the converts were so only in secret; and the few who in despite of the penal decrees attended the public profession of the reformed doctrines were regarded, not indeed as all, but as the chief portion of Protestants. In his resolution of extirpating them, the king commenced by giving new vigour to those decrees; and, to insure their execution, he created a new tribunal, with powers similar to those of the ancient Spanish Inquisition, to take cognisance of heresy. These measures were obnoxious to the people, not merely to the secret Protestants, but to the Catholics, who were subjected to new impositions to defray the expense. The latter, too, joined with the former in exclaiming against the presence of the Spanish troops, which they justly characterised as an infraction of a fundamental law, that prohibited the sojourn in these provinces of armed foreigners. Philip, who had extravagant notions of the royal power, paid no regard to murmurs which he was resolved to stifle by force. As Spain demanded his presence, he intrusted the regency to his natural sister, Margaret duchess of Parma, a princess devoted to his will.
[1556-1567 A.D.]
After the king’s departure, the regent put the obnoxious edicts into execution, and the blood of martyrs moistened the soil of the Low Countries. Her natural disposition was doubtless averse to cruelty; but she was governed by Cardinal Granvella, a furious zealot, to whose suggestions, as they were strictly in conformity with the instructions of Philip, she was almost compelled to defer. The native nobles, who formed the council of regency, were not a little chagrined to find their voices powerless—that measures were framed not only without their consent, but without their knowledge; and they resolved to remove the odious churchman. Among these were two of more than ordinary consideration—William prince of Orange, and Count Egmont; the former governor of Holland, Zealand, and Utrecht, the latter of Artois and Flanders. They were soon joined by Count Horn, a nobleman of equal ambition, and equally jealous of Granvella’s ascendency. The cardinal, perceiving the execration in which he was held, applied for a release from his unenviable post. It was reluctantly granted by the king, who never forgave the men that had occasioned it. But it produced no relief for the dissenters.
The decrees of the Council of Trent—decrees written in blood—were ordered to be executed with even increased severity by some bigoted counsellors. A confederacy was now formed, professed to prevent the dreaded introduction of the Inquisition, but in reality to procure uncontrolled liberty of conscience, or to throw off the Spanish yoke. It was headed by Philip de Marnix, lord of St. Aldegonde; but though the three nobles before mentioned were not members, they were the soul of its proceedings. Emboldened by their numbers, the lower class of Protestants rose in several of the towns to inflict on the Roman Catholics what they themselves had suffered; perhaps more still were incited by the hope of plunder. This was but the beginning of horrors: a furious organised band, amplified as it went along, hastened to the neighbouring towns; and, if the relations of Catholic writers are to be believed, soon laid waste four hundred sacred edifices.
When Philip received intelligence of these events,[85] he called a council, which, after some deliberation, resolved that an army should be sent to extirpate heresy by open force. Its command was intrusted to the duke of Alva, whose relentless disposition seemed well adapted for the task. His powers were much more ample than those of a general-in-chief: they went so far as to control the authority of the regent. His arrival spread great consternation in the provinces; the more so, when counts Egmont and Horn were arrested (Prince William, too wise to await him, had fled into Germany); and the regent, finding that she was in fact superseded, resigned her authority, and returned to Italy. Many thousands, in dread of the approaching persecution, fled into the Protestant states of Europe; to no country more readily than to England.
A Spanish Captain of the Sixteenth Century
[1567-1573 A.D.]
A new tribunal, called the Council of Tumults, was formed: its name implied that it was to take cognisance of the late disorders; but, in reality, it was to be an inquisition. Its fatal activity was soon manifest: confiscations, imprisonment, executions were of hourly occurrence. The number of victims is impossible to be estimated: the Protestants say it amounted to thousands; the Catholics, that the ringleaders only suffered the last penalty. It was, however, severe enough to fill all the Protestant states of Europe with concern, and even to draw forth expostulation from several Catholic. How little such remonstrance availed with either the king or his viceroy, appeared from the execution of the counts Egmont and Horn. Their death made a deep impression on the people, who began to turn their eyes towards the prince of Orange, whom they requested to arm in behalf of his suffering country. William was sufficiently inclined, both by love of liberty and personal ambition, to make the attempt. He and his brothers had for some time been making preparations—raising money and troops in the Protestant states of Germany, and collecting the exiles who had fled from the scaffold. To enter into the details of the interminable wars which followed, from 1568 to 1598, would little accord either with the limits or the design of this chapter. They will be found in the history of the Netherlands. In an assembly of the Dutch states, held at Dordrecht, they openly recognised William as their governor, and voted him supplies to carry on the war. By their invitation he arrived among them, and the reformed religion was declared that of the state. Alva and his son took the field, to recover the places which had rebelled; and wherever their arms were successful, the cruelties inflicted by them on the inhabitants were certainly horrible. It may, however, be doubted whether they were not fully equalled by the atrocities of the count de la Marek, and other Protestant leaders—atrocities which William, with laudable humanity, endeavoured to end. Philip was at length convinced that a wrong policy had been adopted; and Alva was either recalled, or permitted to retire. He was succeeded by Requesens, a nobleman of equal talents and moderation. The fortune of his administration was varied. He soon lost Middelburg; but he defeated and slew Count Louis of Nassau. He failed before Leyden, the inhabitants of which defended themselves with a heroism and a constancy never surpassed; but, on the other hand, he gained some fortresses in North Zealand. On the whole, however, he was so dissatisfied with his success that anxiety brought him to his grave.
[1573-1592 A.D.]