CHARACTER OF EGMONT.
However nearly on a footing they might be in many respects, Hoorne was altogether eclipsed by his friend in military renown. Lamoral, Count Egmont, inherited through his mother, the most beautiful woman of her time,[1175] the title of prince of Gavre,—a place on the Scheldt, not far from Ghent. He preferred, however, the more modest title of count of Egmont, which came to him by the father's side, from ancestors who had reigned over the duchy of Gueldres. The uncommon promise which he early gave served, with his high[{371}] position, to recommend him to the notice of the Emperor Charles the Fifth, who, in 1544, honored by his presence Egmont's nuptials with Sabina, countess-palatine of Bavaria. In 1546, when scarcely twenty-four years of age, he was admitted to the order of the Golden Fleece,—and, by a singular coincidence, on the same day on which that dignity was bestowed on the man destined to become his mortal foe, the duke of Alva.[1176] Philip, on his accession, raised him to the dignity of a councillor of state, and made him governor of the important provinces of Artois and Flanders.
But every other title to distinction faded away before that derived from those two victories, which left the deepest stain on the French arms that they had received since the defeat at Pavia. "I have seen," said the French ambassador, who witnessed the execution of Egmont, "I have seen the head of that man fall who twice caused France to tremble."[1177]
Yet the fame won by his success was probably unfortunate for Egmont. For this, the fruit of impetuous valor and of a brilliant coup-de-main, was very different from the success of a long campaign, implying genius and great military science in the commander. Yet the éclat it gave was enough to turn the head of a man less presumptuous than Egmont. It placed him at once on the most conspicuous eminence in the country; compelling him, in some sort, to take a position above his capacity to maintain. When the troubles broke out, Egmont was found side by side with Orange, in the van of the malecontents. He was urged to this rather by generous sensibility to the wrongs of his countrymen, than by any settled principle of action. Thus acting from impulse, he did not, like William, calculate the consequences of his conduct. When those consequences came, he was not prepared to meet them; he was like some unskilful necromancer, who has neither the wit to lay the storm which he has raised, nor the hardihood to brave it. He was acted on by contrary influences. In opposition to the popular movement came his strong feeling of loyalty, and his stronger devotion to the Roman Catholic faith. His personal vanity coöperated with these; for Egmont was too much of a courtier willingly to dispense with the smiles of royalty. Thus the opposite forces by which he was impelled served to neutralize each other. Instead of moving on a decided one of conduct, like his friend, William of Orange, he appeared weak and vacillating. He hesitated where he should have acted. And as the storm thickened, he even retraced his steps, and threw himself on the mercy of the monarch whom he had offended. William better understood the character of his master,—and that of the minister who was to execute his decrees.[1178]
Still, with all his deficiencies, there was much both in the personal qualities of Egmont and in his exploits to challenge admiration. "I knew him," says Brantôme, "both in France and in Spain, and never did I meet with a nobleman[{372}] of higher breeding, or more gracious in his manners."[1179] With an address so winning, a heart so generous, and with so brilliant a reputation, it is not wonderful that Egmont should have been the pride of his court and the idol of his countrymen. In their idolatry they could not comprehend that Alva's persecution should not have been prompted by a keener feeling than a sense of public duty or obedience to his sovereign. They industriously sought in the earlier history of the rival chiefs the motives for personal pique. On Alva's first visit to the Netherlands, Egmont, then a young man, was said to have won of him a considerable sum at play. The ill-will thus raised in Alva's mind was heightened by Egmont's superiority over him at a shooting-match, which the people, regarding as a sort of national triumph, hailed with an exultation that greatly increased the mortification of the duke.[1180] But what filled up the measure of his jealousy was his rival's military renown; for the Fabian policy which directed Alva's campaigns, however it established his claims to the reputation of a great commander, was by no means favorable to those brilliant feats of arms which have such attraction for the multitude. So intense, indeed, was the feeling of hatred, it was said, in Alva's bosom, that, on the day of his rival's execution, he posted himself behind a lattice of the very building in which Egmont had been confined, that he might feast his eyes with the sight of his mortal agony.[1181]
The friends of Alva give a very different view of his conduct. According to them, an illness under which he labored, at the close of Egmont's trial, was occasioned by his distress of mind at the task imposed on him by the king. He had written more than once to the court of Castile, to request some mitigation of Egmont's sentence, but was answered, that "this would have been easy to grant, if the offence had been against the king; but against the faith, it was impossible."[1182] It was even said that the duke was so much moved, that he was seen to shed tears as big as peas on the day of the execution![1183][{373}]
CONDUCT OF ALVA.
I must confess, I have never seen any account that would warrant a belief in the report that Alva witnessed in person the execution of his prisoners. Nor, on the other hand, have I met with any letter of his deprecating the severity of their sentence, or advising a mitigation of their punishment. This, indeed, would be directly opposed to his policy, openly avowed. The reader may, perhaps, recall the homely simile by which he recommended to the queen-mother, at Bayonne, to strike at the great nobles in preference to the commoners. "One salmon," he said, "was worth ten thousand frogs."[1184] Soon after Egmont's arrest, some of the burghers of Brussels waited on him to ask why it had been made. The duke bluntly told them, "When he had got together his troops, he would let them know."[1185] Everything shows that, in his method of proceeding in regard to the two lords, he had acted on a preconcerted plan, in the arrangement of which he had taken his full part. In a letter to Philip, written soon after the execution, he speaks with complacency of having carried out the royal views in respect to the great offenders.[1186] In another, he notices the sensation caused by the death of Egmont; and "the greater the sensation," he adds, "the greater will be the benefit to be derived from it."[1187]—There is little in all this of compunction for the act, or of compassion for its victims.
The truth seems to be, that Alva was a man of an arrogant nature, an inflexible will, and of the most narrow and limited views. His doctrine of implicit obedience went as far as that of Philip himself. In enforcing it, he disdained the milder methods of argument or conciliation. It was on force, brute force alone, that he relied. He was bred a soldier, early accustomed to the stern discipline of the camp. The only law he recognized was martial law; his only argument, the sword. No agent could have been fitter to execute the designs of a despotic prince. His hard, impassible nature was not to be influenced by those affections which sometimes turn the most obdurate from their purpose. As little did he know of fear; nor could danger deter him from carrying out his work. The hatred he excited in the Netherlands was such, that, as he was warned, it was not safe for him to go out after dark. Placards were posted up in Brussels menacing his life if he persisted in the prosecution of Egmont.[1188] He held such menaces as light as he did the entreaties of the countess, or the arguments of her counsel. Far from being moved by personal considerations, no power could turn him from that narrow path which he professed to regard as the path of duty. He went surely, though it might be slowly, towards the mark, crushing by his iron will every obstacle that lay in his track. We shudder at the contemplation of such a character, relieved by scarcely a single touch of humanity. Yet we must admit there is something which challenges our admiration in the stern, uncompromising manner, without fear or favor, with which a man of this indomitable temper carries his plans into execution.
It would not be fair to omit, in this connection, some passages from Alva's[{374}] correspondence, which suggest the idea that he was not wholly insensible to feelings of compassion,—when they did not interfere with the performance of his task. In a letter to the king, dated the ninth of June, four days only after the death of the two nobles, the duke says: "Your majesty will understand the regret I feel at seeing these poor lords brought to such an end, and myself obliged to bring them to it.[1189] But I have not shrunk from doing what is for your majesty's service. Indeed, they and their accomplices have been the cause of very great present evil, and one which will endanger the souls of many for years to come. The Countess Egmont's condition fills me with the greatest pity, burdened as she is with a family of eleven children, none old enough to take care of themselves;—and she too a lady of so distinguished rank, sister of the count-palatine, and of so virtuous, truly Catholic, and exemplary life.[1190] There is no man in the country who does not grieve for her! I cannot but commend her," he concludes, "as I do now, very humbly, to the good grace of your majesty, beseeching you to call to mind that if the count, her husband, came to trouble at the close of his days, he formerly rendered great service to the state."[1191] The reflection, it must be owned, came somewhat late.