Such was the counsel of Alva, in conformity with that which he had always given on the subject. But although all concurred in urging the king to expedite his departure, some of the councillors followed the prince of Eboli in advising Philip that, instead of this warlike panoply, he should go in peaceable[{286}] guise, accompanied only by such a retinue as befitted the royal dignity. Each of the great rivals recommended the measures most congenial with his own temper, the direction of which would no doubt be intrusted to the man who recommended them. It is not strange that the more violent course should have found favor with the majority.[852]
Philip's own decision he kept, as usual, locked in his own bosom. He wrote indeed to his sister, warning her not to allow the meeting of the legislature, and announcing his speedy coming,—all as usual; and he added, that, in repressing the disorders of the country, he should use no other means than those of gentleness and kindness, under the sanction of the states.[853] These gentle professions weighed little with those who, like the prince of Orange, had surer means of arriving at the king's intent than what were afforded by the royal correspondence. Montigny, the Flemish envoy, was still in Madrid, held there, sorely against his will, in a sort of honorable captivity by Philip. In a letter to his brother, Count Hoorne, he wrote: "Nothing can be in worse odor than our affairs at the court of Castile. The great lords, in particular, are considered as the source of all the mischief. Violent counsels are altogether in the ascendant, and the storm may burst on you sooner than you think. Nothing remains but to fly from it like a prudent man, or to face it like a brave one!"[854]
William had other sources of intelligence, the secret agents whom he kept in pay at Madrid. From them he learned, not only what was passing at the court, but in the very cabinet of the monarch; and extracts, sometimes full copies, of the correspondence of Philip and Margaret, were transmitted to the prince. Thus the secrets which the most jealous prince in Europe supposed to be locked in his own breast were often in possession of his enemies; and William, as we are told, declared that there was no word of Philip's, public or private, but was reported to his ears![855]
THE FEELING AT MADRID.
This secret intelligence, on which the prince expended large sums of money, was not confined to Madrid. He maintained a similar system of espionage in Paris, where the court of Castile was busy with its intrigues for[{287}] the extermination of heresy. Those who look on these trickish proceedings as unworthy of the character of the prince of Orange and the position which he held, should consider that it was in accordance with the spirit of the age. It was but turning Philip's own arts against himself, and using the only means by which William could hope to penetrate the dark and unscrupulous policy of a cabinet whose chief aim, as he thought, was to subvert the liberties of his country.
It was at this time that his agents in France intercepted a letter from Alava, the Spanish minister at the French court. It was addressed to the duchess of Parma. Among other things, the writer says it is well understood at Madrid, that the great nobles are at the bottom of the troubles of Flanders. The king is levying a strong force, with which he will soon visit the country, and call the three lords to a heavy reckoning. In the mean time the duchess must be on her guard not by any change in her deportment to betray her consciousness of this intent.[856]
Thus admonished from various quarters, the prince felt that it was no longer safe for him to remain in his present position; and that in the words of Montigny, he must be prepared to fight or to fly. He resolved to take counsel with some of those friends who were similarly situated with himself. In a communication made to Egmont in order to persuade him to a conference, William speaks of Philip's military preparations as equally to be dreaded by Catholic and Protestant; for under the pretext of religion, Philip had no other object in view than to enslave the nation. "This has been always feared by us," he adds;[857] "and I cannot stay to witness the ruin of my country."
The parties met at Dendermonde on the third of October. Besides the two friends and Count Hoorne, there were William's brother, Louis, and a few other persons of consideration. Little is actually known of the proceedings at this conference, notwithstanding the efforts of more than one officious chronicler to enlighten us. Their contradictory accounts, like so many cross lights on his path, serve only to perplex the eye of the student. It seems probable, however, that the nobles generally, including the prince, considered the time had arrived for active measures; and that any armed intrusion on the part of Philip into the Netherlands should be resisted by force. But Egmont, with all his causes of discontent, was too loyal at heart not to shrink from the attitude of rebellion. He had a larger stake than most of the company, in a numerous family of children, who, in case of a disastrous revolution, would be thrown helpless on the world. The benignity with which he had been received by Philip on his mission to Spain, and which subsequent slights had not effaced from his memory, made him confide, most unhappily, in the favorable dispositions of the monarch. From whatever motives, the count refused to become a party to any scheme of resistance; and as his popularity with the troops made his coöperation of the last importance, the conference broke up without coming to a determination.[858][{288}]
Egmont at once repaired to Brussels, whither he had been summoned by the regent to attend the council of state. Orange and Hoorne received, each, a similar summons, to which neither of them paid any regard. Before taking his seat at the board, Egmont showed the duchess Alava's letter, upbraiding her, at the same time, with her perfidious conduct towards the nobles. Margaret, who seems to have given way to temper or to tears, as the exigency demanded, broke forth into a rage, declaring it "an impudent forgery, and the greatest piece of villany in the world!"[859] The same sentiment she repeats in a letter addressed soon after to her brother, in which she asserts her belief that no such letter as that imputed to Alava had ever been written by him. How far the duchess was honest in her declaration it is impossible at this day to determine. Egmont, after passing to other matters, concludes with a remark which shows, plainly enough, his own opinion of her sincerity. "In fine, she is a woman educated in Rome. There is no faith to be given to her."[860]
In her communication above noticed Margaret took occasion to complain to Philip of his carelessness in regard to her letters. The contents of them, she said, were known in Flanders almost as soon as at Madrid; and not only copies, but the original autographs, were circulating in Brussels. She concludes by begging her brother, if he cannot keep her letters safe, to burn them.[861]