History of The Reign of Philip The Second King of Spain History of the Reign of Philip the Second, King of Spain Part 31

At this time an army of the confederates, some three or four thousand strong, appeared in the neighborhood of Tournay, designed partly to protect that town, which had refused a garrison, and partly to create a diversion in favor of Valenciennes. No sooner had Noircarmes got tidings of this, than, leaving a sufficient detachment to carry on the blockade, he made a rapid march with the rest of his forces, came suddenly on the enemy, engaged him in a pitched battle, completely routed him, and drove his scattered legions up to the walls of Tournay. That city, now incapable of resistance, opened its gates at once, and submitted to the terms of the conqueror, who soon returned, with his victorious army, to resume the siege of Valenciennes.

But the confidence of the inhabitants was not shaken. On the contrary, under the delusive promises of their preacher, it seemed to rise higher than ever, and they rejected with scorn every invitation to surrender.

Again the regent wrote to her brother, that, unless he allowed more active operations, there was great danger the place would be relieved by the Huguenots on the frontier, or by the _Gueux_, whose troops were scattered through the country.

Urged by the last consideration, Philip yielded a reluctant a.s.sent to his sister's wishes. But in his letter, dated on the thirteenth of March, he insisted that, before resorting to violence, persuasion and menace should be first tried; and that, in case of an a.s.sault, great care should be had that no harm came to the old and infirm, to women or children, to any, in short, who were not found actually in arms against the government.[880]--The clemency shown by Philip on this occasion reflects infinite credit on him; and if it be disposed of by some as mere policy, it must be allowed to be a policy near akin to humanity. It forms a striking contrast with the ferocious mood in which Margaret indulged at this time, when she seems to have felt that a long arrear of vengeance was due for the humiliations she had been compelled to endure.

[Sidenote: SIEGE OF VALENCIENNES.]

The regent lost no time in profiting by the royal license. She first, however, proposed, in obedience to her instructions, to see what could be done by milder measures. She sent two envoys, Count Egmont and the duke of Arschot, to Valenciennes, in order to expostulate with the citizens, and if possible bring them to reason. The two n.o.bles represented to the people the folly of attempting to cope, thus single-handed, as it were, with the government. Their allies had been discomfited one after another. With the defeat before Tournay must have faded the last ray of hope. They besought the citizens to accept, while there was time, the grace proffered them by the d.u.c.h.ess, who was willing, if the town submitted, that such as chose to leave it might take their effects and go wherever they listed.

But the people of Valenciennes, fortified by the promises of their leaders, and with a blind confidence in their own resources, which had hitherto proved effectual, held lightly both the arguments and offers of the envoys, who returned to the camp of Noircarmes greatly disgusted with the ill-success of their mission. There was no room for further delay, and preparations were made for reducing the place by more active operations.

Valenciennes stands on the crest of an eminence that sweeps down by a gradual slope towards the river Scheldt, which, was.h.i.+ng the walls of the city, forms a good defence on that quarter. The ramparts encompa.s.sing the town, originally strong and of great thickness, were now somewhat impaired by age. They were protected by a wide ditch, which in some places was partially choked up with rubbish. The walls were well lined with artillery, and the magazines provided with ammunition. In short, the place was one which, in earlier days, from the strength of its works as well as its natural position, might have embarra.s.sed an army more formidable than that which now lay before it.

The first step of Noircarmes was to contract his lines, and closely to invest the town. He next availed himself of a dark and stormy night to attack one of the suburbs, which he carried after a sharp engagement, and left in the charge of some companies of Walloons.

The following day these troops opened a brisk fire on the soldiers who defended the ramparts, which was returned by the latter with equal spirit. But while amusing the enemy in this quarter, Noircarmes ordered a battery to be constructed, consisting at first of ten, afterwards of twenty, heavy guns and mortars, besides some lighter pieces. From this battery he opened a well-directed and most disastrous fire on the city, demolis.h.i.+ng some of the princ.i.p.al edifices, which, from their size, afforded a prominent mark. The great tower of St. Nicholas, on which some heavy ordnance was planted, soon crumbled, under this fierce cannonade, and its defenders were buried in its ruins. At length, at the end of four hours, the inhabitants, unable longer to endure the storm of shot and sh.e.l.ls which penetrated every quarter of the town, so far humbled their pride as to request a parley. To this Noircarmes a.s.sented, but without intermitting his fire for a moment.

The deputies informed the general, that the city was willing to capitulate on the terms before proposed by the Flemish n.o.bles. But Noircarmes contemptuously told them that "things were not now as they then were, and it was not his wont to talk of terms with a fallen enemy."[881] The deputies, greatly discomfited by the reply, returned to report the failure of their mission to their townsmen.

Meanwhile the iron tempest continued with pitiless fury. The wretched people could find no refuge from it in their dwellings, which filled the streets with their ruins. It was not, however, till two-and-thirty hours more had pa.s.sed away that a practicable breach was made in the walls; while the rubbish which had tumbled into the fosse from the crumbling ramparts afforded a tolerable pa.s.sage for the besiegers, on a level nearly with the breach itself. By this pa.s.sage Noircarmes now prepared to march into the city, through the open breach, at the head of his battalions.

The people of Valenciennes too late awoke from their delusion. They were no longer cheered by the voice of their fanatical leader, for he had provided for his own safety by flight; and, preferring any fate to that of being delivered over to the ruthless soldiery of Noircarmes, they offered at once to surrender the town at discretion, throwing themselves on the mercy of their victor. Six-and-thirty hours only had elapsed since the batteries of the besiegers had opened their fire, and during that time three thousand bombs had been thrown into the city;[882] which was thought scarcely less than a miracle in that day.

On the second of April, 1567, just four months after the commencement of the siege, the victorious army marched into Valenciennes. As it defiled through the long and narrow streets, which showed signs of the dismal fray in their shattered edifices, and in the dead and dying still stretched on the pavement, it was met by troops of women and young maidens bearing green branches in their hands, and deprecating with tears and piteous lamentations the wrath of the conquerors. Noircarmes marched at once to the town-house, where he speedily relieved the munic.i.p.al functionaries of all responsibility, by turning them out of office. His next care was to seize the persons of the zealous ministers and the other leaders. Many had already contrived to make their escape.

Most of these were soon after taken, the preacher La Grange among the rest, and to the number of thirty-six were sentenced either to the scaffold or the gallows.[883] The general then caused the citizens to be disarmed, and the fortifications, on which were mounted eighty pieces of artillery, to be dismantled. The town was deprived of its privileges and immunities, and a heavy fine imposed on the inhabitants to defray the charges of the war. The Protestant wors.h.i.+p was abolished, the churches were restored to their former occupants, and none but the Roman Catholic service was allowed henceforth to be performed in the city. The bishop of Arras was invited to watch over the spiritual concerns of the inhabitants, and a strong garrison of eight battalions was quartered in the place, to secure order and maintain the authority of the cr own.[884]

[Sidenote: OATH IMPOSED BY MARGARET.]

The keys of Valenciennes, it was commonly said, opened to the regent the gates of all the refractory cities of the Netherlands. Maestricht, Tornhut, Ghent, Ypres, Oudenarde, and other places which had refused to admit a garrison within their walls, now surrendered, one after another, to Margaret, and consented to receive her terms. In like manner Megen established the royal authority in the province of Gueldres, and Aremberg, after a more prolonged resistance, in Groningen and Friesland.

In a few weeks, with the exception of Antwerp and some places in Holland, the victorious arms of the regent had subdued the spirit of resistance in every part of the country.[885] The movement of the insurgents had been premature.

CHAPTER XIV.

TRANQUILLITY RESTORED.

Oath imposed by Margaret.--Refused by Orange.--He leaves the Netherlands.--Submission of the Country.--New Edict.--Order restored.

1567.

The perplexities in which the regent had been involved had led her to conceive a plan, early in January, 1567, the idea of which may have been suggested by the similar plan of Viglius. This was to require an oath from the great n.o.bles, the knights of the Golden Fleece, and those in high stations, civil or military, that they would yield implicit and unqualified obedience to the commands of the king, of whatever nature they might be. Her object in this measure was not to secure a test of loyalty. She knew full well who were the friends and who were the foes of the government. But she wished a decent apology for ridding herself of the latter; and it was made a condition, that those who refused to take the oath were to be dismissed from office.

The measure seems to have met with no opposition when first started in the council; where Mansfeldt, Arschot, Megen, Barlaimont, all signified their readiness to sign the oath. Egmont indeed raised some scruples.

After the oath of allegiance he had once taken, a new one seemed superfluous. The bare word of a man of honor and a chevalier of the Toison ought to suffice.[886] But after a short correspondence on the subject, his scruples vanished before the arguments or persuasions of the regent.

Brederode, who held a military command, was not of so accommodating a temper. He indignantly exclaimed, that it was a base trick of the government, and he understood the drift of it. He refused to subscribe the oath, and at once threw up his commission. The Counts Hoorne and Hoogstraten declined also, but in more temperate terms, and resigning their employments, withdrew to their estates in the country.

The person of most importance was the prince of Orange; and it was necessary to approach him with the greatest caution. Margaret, it is true, had long since withdrawn from him her confidence. But he had too much consideration and authority in the country for her to wish to break with him. Nor would she willingly give him cause of disgust. She accordingly addressed him a note, couched in the most insinuating terms she had at her command.

She could not doubt he would be ready to set a good example, when his example would be so important in the perplexed condition of the country.

Rumors had been circulated to the prejudice of his loyalty. She did not give them credit. She could not for a moment believe that he would so far dishonor his great name and his ill.u.s.trious descent as to deserve such a reproach; and she had no doubt he would gladly avail himself of the present occasion to wipe away all suspicion.[887]

The despatch inclosed a form of the oath, by which the party was to bind himself to "serve the king, and act for or against whomever his majesty might command, without restriction or limitation,"[888] on pain of being dismissed from office.

William was not long in replying to a requisition, to obey which would leave him less freedom than might be claimed by the meanest peasant in the country. On the twenty-eighth of April, the same day on which he received the letter, he wrote to the regent, declining in the most positive terms to take the oath. Such an act, he said, would of itself imply that he had already violated the oath he had previously taken. Nor could he honorably take it, since it might bind him to do what would be contrary to the dictates of his own conscience, as well as to what he conceived to be the true interests of his majesty and the country.[889]

He was aware that such a demand on the regent's part was equivalent to a dismissal from office. He begged her, therefore, to send some one fully empowered to receive his commissions, since he was ready forthwith to surrender them. As for himself, he should withdraw from the Netherlands, and wait until his sovereign had time to become satisfied of his fidelity. But wherever he might be, he should ever be ready to devote both life and property to the service of the king and the common weal of the country.[890]

Whatever hesitation the prince of Orange may have before felt as to the course he was to take, it was clear the time had now come for decisive action. Though the steady advocate of political reform, his policy, as we have seen, had been to attempt this by const.i.tutional methods, not by violence. But all his more moderate plans had been overthrown by the explosion of the iconoclasts. The outrages then perpetrated had both alienated the Catholics and disgusted the more moderate portion of the Protestants; while the divisions of the Protestants among themselves had so far paralyzed their action, that the whole strength of the party of reform had never been fairly exerted in the conflict. That conflict, unprepared as the nation was for it, had been most disastrous.

Everywhere the arms of the regent had been victorious. It was evident the hour for resistance had not yet come.

[Sidenote: OATH REFUSED BY ORANGE.]

Yet for William to remain in his present position was hazardous in the extreme. Rumors had gone abroad that the duke of Alva would soon be in the Netherlands, at the head of a force sufficient to put down all opposition. "Beware of Alva," said his wife's kinsman, the landgrave of Hesse, to William; "I know him well."[891] The prince of Orange also knew him well,--too well to trust him. He knew the hard, inexorable nature of the man who was now coming with an army at his back, and clothed with the twofold authority of judge and executioner. The first blow would, he knew, be aimed at the highest mark. To await Alva's coming would be to provoke his fate. Yet the prince felt all the dreariness of his situation. "I am alone," he wrote to the Landgrave William of Hesse, "with dangers menacing me on all sides, yet without one trusty friend to whom I can open my heart."[892]

Margaret seems to have been less prepared than might have been expected for the decision of Orange. Yet she determined not to let him depart from the country without an effort to retain him. She accordingly sent her secretary, Berty, to the prince at Antwerp, to enter into the matter more freely, and, if possible, prevail on him to review the grounds of his decision. William freely, and at some length, stated his reasons for declining the oath. "If I thus blindly surrender myself to the will of the king, I may be driven to do what is most repugnant to my principles, especially in the stern mode of dealing with the sectaries. I may be compelled to denounce some of my own family, even my wife, as Lutherans, and to deliver them into the hands of the executioner. Finally," said he, "the king may send some one in his royal name to rule over us, to whom it would be derogatory for me to submit." The name of "Alva"

escaped, as if involuntarily, from his lips,--and he was silent.[893]

Berty endeavored to answer the objections of the prince, but the latter, interrupting him before he had touched on the duke of Alva, bluntly declared that the king would never be content while one of his great va.s.sals was wedded to a heretic. It was his purpose, therefore, to leave the country at once, and retire to Germany; and with this remark he abruptly closed the conference.

The secretary, though mortified at his own failure, besought William to consent to an interview, before his departure, with Count Egmont, who, Berty trusted, might be more successful. To this William readily a.s.sented. This celebrated meeting took place at Willbroek, a village between Antwerp and Brussels. Besides the two lords there were only present Count Mansfeldt and the secretary.

After some discussion, in which each of the friends endeavored to win over the other to his own way of thinking, William expressed the hope that Egmont would save himself in time from the b.l.o.o.d.y tempest that, he predicted, was soon to fall on the heads of the Flemish n.o.bles.[894] "I trust in the clemency of my sovereign," answered the count; "he cannot deal harshly with men who have restored order to the country." "This clemency you so extol," replied William, "will be your ruin. Much I fear that the Spaniards will make use of you as a bridge to effect their entrance into the country!"[895] With this ominous prediction on his lips, he tenderly embraced the count, with tears in his eyes, bidding him a last farewell. And thus the two friends parted, like men who were never to meet again.

The different courses pursued by the two n.o.bles were such as might be expected from the difference of both their characters and their circ.u.mstances. Egmont, ardent, hopeful, and confiding, easily surrendered himself to the illusions of his own fancy, as if events were to shape themselves according to his wishes. He had not the far-seeing eye of William, which seemed to penetrate into events as it did into characters. Nor had Egmont learned, like William, not to put his trust in princes. He was, doubtless, as sincerely attached to his country as the prince of Orange, and abhorred, like him, the system of persecution avowed by the government. But this persecution fell upon a party with whom he had little sympathy. William, on the other hand, was a member of that party. A blow aimed at them was aimed also at him. It is easy to see how different were the stakes of the two n.o.bles in the coming contest, both in respect to their sympathies and their interests. Egmont was by birth a Fleming. His estates were in Flanders, and there, too, were his hopes of worldly fortune. Exile to him would have been beggary and ruin. But a large, if not the larger part of William's property, lay without the confines of the Netherlands. In withdrawing to Germany, he went to his native land. His kindred were still there. With them he had maintained a constant correspondence, and there he would be welcomed by troops of friends. It was a home, and no place of exile, that William was to find in Germany.

Shortly after this interview, the prince went to his estates at Breda, there to remain a few days before quitting the country.[896] From Breda he wrote to Egmont, expressing the hope that, when he had weighed them in his mind, he would be contented with the reasons a.s.signed for his departure. The rest he would leave to G.o.d, who would order all for his own glory. "Be sure," he added, "you have no friend more warmly devoted to you than myself; for the love of you is too deeply rooted in my heart to be weakened either by time or distance."[897] It is pleasing to see that party spirit had not, as in the case of more vulgar souls, the power to rend asunder the ties which had so long bound these great men to each other; to see them still turning back, with looks of accustomed kindness, when they were entering the paths that were to lead in such opposite directions.

William wrote also to the king, acquainting him with what he had done, and explaining the grounds of it; at the same time renewing the declaration that, wherever he might be, he trusted never to be found wanting to the obligations of a true and faithful va.s.sal. Before leaving Breda, the prince received a letter from the politic regent, more amiable in its import than might have been expected. Perhaps it was not wholly policy that made her unwilling to part with him in anger. She expressed her readiness to do him any favor in her power. She had always felt for him, she said, the same affection as for her own son, and should ever continue to do so.[898]

[Sidenote: WILLIAM LEAVES THE NETHERLANDS.]

On the last of April, William departed for Germany. He took with him all his household except his eldest son, the count of Buren, then a boy thirteen years old, who was pursuing his studies at the university of Louvain.[899] Perhaps William trusted to the immunities of Brabant, or to the tender age of the youth, for his protection. If so, he grievously miscalculated. The boy would serve as too important a hostage for his father, and Philip caused him to be transferred to Madrid; where, under the monarch's eye, he was educated in religious as well as in political sentiments very little in harmony with those of the prince of Orange.

Fortunately, the younger brother, Maurice, who inherited the genius of his father, and was to carry down his great name to another generation, was allowed to receive his training under the paternal roof.[900]

Besides his family, William was accompanied by a host of friends and followers, some of them persons of high consideration, who preferred banishment with him to encountering the troubles that awaited them at home. Thus attended, he fixed his residence at Dillemburg, in Na.s.sau, the seat of his ancestors, and the place of his own birth. He there occupied himself with studying the Lutheran doctrine under an experienced teacher of that persuasion;[901] and, while he kept a watchful eye on the events pa.s.sing in his unhappy country, he endeavored to make himself acquainted with the principles of that glorious Reformation, of which, in connection with political freedom, he was one day to become the champion.

The departure of the prince of Orange caused general consternation in the Netherlands. All who were in anyway compromised by the late disturbances watched more anxiously than ever the signs of the coming tempest, as they felt they had lost the pilot who alone could enable them to weather it. Thousands prepared to imitate his example by quitting the country before it was too late. Among those who fled were the Counts Culemborg, Berg, Hoogstraten, Louis of Na.s.sau, and others of inferior note, who pa.s.sed into Germany, where they gathered into a little circle round the prince, waiting, like him, for happier days.

Some of the great lords, who had held out against the regent, now left alone, intimated their willingness to comply with her demands. "Count Hoorne," she writes to Philip, "has offered his services to me, and declares his readiness to take the oath. If he has spoken too freely, he says, it was not from any disaffection to the government, but from a momentary feeling of pique and irritation. I would not drive him to desperation, and from regard to his kindred I have consented that he should take his seat in the council again."[902] The haughty tone of the d.u.c.h.ess shows that she felt herself now so strongly seated as to be nearly indifferent whether the person she dealt with were friend or foe.[903]

Egmont, at this time, was endeavoring to make amends for the past by such extraordinary demonstrations of loyalty as should efface all remembrance of it. He rode through the land at the head of his troops, breaking up the consistories, arresting the rioters, and everywhere reestablis.h.i.+ng the Catholic wors.h.i.+p. He loudly declared that those who would remain his friends must give unequivocal proofs of loyalty to the crown and the Roman Catholic faith. Some of those with whom he had been most intimate, disgusted with, this course, and distrusting, perhaps, such a deposit for their correspondence, sent back the letters they had received from him, and demanded their own in return.[904]

At Brussels Egmont entered into all the gayeties of the court, displaying his usual magnificence in costly fetes and banquets, which the d.u.c.h.ess of Parma sometimes honored with her presence. The count's name appears among those which she mentions to Philip as of persons well affected to the government. "It is impossible," she says, "not to be satisfied with his conduct."[905] Thus elated by the favor of the regent--next in importance to that of royalty itself--the ill-fated n.o.bleman cherished the fond hope that the past would now be completely effaced from the memory of his master,--a master who might forget a benefit, but who was never known to forgive an injury.

The great towns throughout the land had now generally intimated their willingness to submit to the requisitions of Margaret, and many of them had admitted garrisons within their walls. Antwerp only, of the cities of Brabant, remained intractable. At length it yielded to the general impulse, and a deputation was sent to the regent to sue for her forgiveness, and to promise that the leaders in the late disturbances should be banished from the city. This was a real triumph to the royal party, considering the motley character of the population, in which there was so large an infusion of Calvinism. But Margaret, far from showing her satisfaction, coolly answered that they must first receive a garrison; then she would intercede for them with the king, and would herself consent to take up her residence in the city. In this the inhabitants, now well humbled, affected willingly to acquiesce; and soon after Count Mansfeldt, at the head of sixteen companies of foot, marched into Antwerp in battle array, and there quartered his soldiers as in a conquered capital.