[NOTE: There is a short list of bookmarks, or pointers, at the end of thefile for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making anentire meal of them. D. W. ]

MOTLEY'S HISTORY OF THE NETHERLANDS, PG EDITION, VOLUME 17. 

THE RISE OF THE DUTCH REPUBLIC

By John Lothrop Motley

1855

1569-70 [CHAPTER V. ]

 Quarrel between Alva and Queen Elizabeth of England--Spanish funds seized by the English government--Non-intercourse between England and the Netherlands--Stringent measures against heresy--Continued persecution--Individual cases--Present of hat and sword to Alva from the Pope--Determination of the Governor--general to establish a system of arbitrary taxation in the provinces--Assembly of estates at Brussels--Alva's decrees laid before them--The hundredth, tenth, and fifth pence--Opposition of Viglius to the project--Estates of various provinces give a reluctant consent--Determined resistance of Utrecht--The city and province cited before the Blood Council-- Sentence of confiscation and disfranchisement against both--Appeal to the King--Difficulty of collecting the new tax--Commutation for two years--Projects for a pardon-general--Growing disfavour of the Duke--His desire to resign his post--Secret hostility between the Governor and Viglius--Altered sentiments of the President--Opinions expressed by Granvelle--The pardon pompously proclaimed by the Duke at Antwerp--Character of the amnesty--Dissatisfaction of the people with the act--Complaints of Alva to the King--Fortunes and fate of Baron Montigny in Spain--His confinement at Segovia--His attempt to escape--Its failure--His mock trial--His wife's appeal to Philip-- His condemnation--His secret assassination determined upon--Its details, as carefully prescribed and superintended by the King-- Terrible inundation throughout the Netherlands--Immense destruction of life and property in Friesland--Lowestein Castle taken by De Ruyter, by stratagem--Recapture of the place by the Spaniards-- Desperate resistance and death of De Ruyter. 

It was very soon after the Duke's return to Brussels that a quarrelbetween himself and the Queen of England took place. It happened thus. Certain vessels, bearing roving commissions from the Prince of Conde, hadchased into the ports of England some merchantmen coming from Spain withsupplies in specie for the Spanish army in the Netherlands. The tradingships remained in harbor, not daring to leave for their destination, while the privateers remained in a neighbouring port ready to pounce uponthem should they put to sea. The commanders of the merchant fleetcomplained to the Spanish ambassador in London. The envoy laid the casebefore the Queen. The Queen promised redress, and, almost as soon as thepromise had been made, seized upon all the specie in the vessels, amounting to about eight hundred thousand dollars--[1885 exchange rate]--and appropriated the whole to her own benefit. The pretext for thisproceeding was twofold. In the first place, she assured the ambassadorthat she had taken the money into her possession in order that it mightbe kept safe for her royal brother of Spain. In the second place, sheaffirmed that the money did not belong to the Spanish government at all, but that it was the property of certain Genoese merchants, from whom, asshe had a right to do, she had borrowed it for a short period. Boththese positions could hardly be correct, but either furnished anexcellent reason for appropriating the funds to her own use. 

The Duke of Alva being very much in want of money, was furious wheninformed of the circumstance. He immediately despatched Councillord'Assonleville with other commissioners on a special embassy to the Queenof England. His envoys were refused an audience, and the Duke was taxedwith presumption in venturing, as if be had been a sovereign, to send alegation to a crowned head. No satisfaction was given to Alva, but asecret commissioner was despatched to Spain to discuss the subject there. The wrath of Alva was not appeased by this contemptuous treatment. Chagrined at the loss of his funds, and stung to the quick by a rebukewhich his arrogance had merited, he resorted to a high-handed measure. He issued a proclamation commanding the personal arrest of everyEnglishman within the territory of the Netherlands, and the seizure ofevery article of property which could be found belonging to individualsof that nation. The Queen retaliated by measures of the same severityagainst Netherlanders in England. The Duke followed up his blow by aproclamation (of March 31st, 1569), in which the grievance was detailed, and strict non-intercourse with England enjoined. While the Queen andthe Viceroy were thus exchanging blows, the real sufferers were, ofcourse, the unfortunate Netherlanders. Between the upper and nethermillstones of Elizabeth's rapacity and Alva's arrogance, the poor remainsof Flemish prosperity were well nigh crushed out of existence. Proclamations and commissions followed hard upon each other, but it wasnot till April 1573, that the matter was definitely arranged. Beforethat day arrived, the commerce of the Netherlands had suffered, at thelowest computation, a dead loss of two million florins, not a stiver ofwhich was ever reimbursed to the sufferers by the Spanish government. 

Meantime, neither in the complacency of his triumph over William ofOrange, nor in the torrent of his wrath against the English Queen, didthe Duke for a moment lose sight of the chief end of his existence in theNetherlands. The gibbet and the stake were loaded with their dailyvictims. The records of the period are foul with the perpetually renewedbarbarities exercised against the new religion. To the magistrates ofthe different cities were issued fresh instructions, by which allmunicipal officers were to be guided in the discharge of their greatduty. They were especially enjoined by the Duke to take heed thatCatholic midwives, and none other, should be provided for every parish, duly sworn to give notice within twenty-four hours of every birth whichoccurred, in order that the curate might instantly proceed to baptism. They were also ordered to appoint certain spies who should keep watch atevery administration of the sacraments, whether public or private, whether at the altar or at death-beds, and who should report forexemplary punishment (that is to say, death by fire) all persons who madederisive or irreverential gestures, or who did not pay suitable honor tothe said Sacraments. Furthermore, in order that not even death itselfshould cheat the tyrant of his prey, the same spies were to keep watch atthe couch of the dying, and to give immediate notice to government of allpersons who should dare to depart this life without previously receivingextreme unction and the holy wafer. The estates of such culprits, it wasordained, should be confiscated, and their bodies dragged to the publicplace of execution. 

An affecting case occurred in the north of Holland, early in this year, which, for its peculiarity, deserves brief mention. A poor Anabaptist, guilty of no crime but his fellowship with a persecuted sect, had beencondemned to death. He had made his escape, closely pursued by anofficer of justice, across a frozen lake. It was late in the winter, and the ice had become unsound. It trembled and cracked beneath hisfootsteps, but he reached the shore in safety. The officer was not sofortunate. The ice gave way beneath him, and he sank into the lake, uttering a cry for succor. There were none to hear him, except thefugitive whom he had been hunting. Dirk Willemzoon, for so was theAnabaptist called, instinctively obeying the dictates of a generousnature, returned, crossed the quaking and dangerous ice, at the peril ofhis life, extended his hand to his enemy, and saved him from certaindeath. Unfortunately for human nature, it cannot be added that thegenerosity, of, the action was met by a corresponding heroism. Theofficer was desirous, it is true, of avoiding the responsibility ofsacrificing the preserver of his life, but the burgomaster of Asperensternly reminded him to remember his oath. He accordingly arrested thefugitive, who, on the 16th of May following, was burned to death underthe most lingering tortures. 

Almost at the same time four clergymen, the eldest seventy years of age, were executed at the Hague, after an imprisonment of three years. Allwere of blameless lives, having committed no crime save that of havingfavored the Reformation. As they were men of some local eminence, itwas determined that they should be executed with solemnity. They werecondemned to the flames, and as they were of the ecclesiasticalprofession, it was necessary before execution that their personalsanctity should be removed. Accordingly, on the 27th May, attired in thegorgeous robes of high mass, they were brought before the Bishop of Boisle Duc. The prelate; with a pair of scissors, cut a lock of hair fromeach of their heads. He then scraped their crowns and the tips of theirfingers with a little silver knife very gently, and without inflictingthe least injury. The mystic oil of consecration was thus supposed to besufficiently removed. The prelate then proceeded to disrobe the victims, saying to each one as he did so, "Eximo tibi vestem justitiae, quemvolens abjecisti;" to which the oldest pastor, Arent Dirkzoon, stoutlyreplied, "imo vestem injustitiae. " The bishop having thus completed thesolemn farce of desecration, delivered the prisoners to the BloodCouncil, begging that they might be handled very gently. Three daysafterwards they were all executed at the stake, having, however, receivedthe indulgence of being strangled before being thrown into the flames. 

It was precisely at this moment, while the agents of the Duke'sgovernment were thus zealously enforcing his decrees, that a specialmessenger arrived from the Pope, bringing as a present to Alva a jewelledhat and sword. It was a gift rarely conferred by the Church, and neversave upon the highest dignitaries, or upon those who had merited her mostsignal rewards by the most shining exploits in her defence. The Duke wasrequested, in the autograph letter from his Holiness which accompaniedthe presents, "to remember, when he put the hat upon his head, that hewas guarded with it as with a helmet of righteousness, and with theshield of God's help, indicating the heavenly crown which was ready forall princes who support the Holy Church and the Roman Catholic faith. "The motto on the sword ran as follows, "Accipe sanctum gladium, menus aDeo in quo dejicies adversarios populi mei Israel. "

The Viceroy of Philip, thus stimulated to persevere in his master'sprecepts by the Vicegerent of Christ, was not likely to swerve from hispath, nor to flinch from his work. It was beyond the power of man'singenuity to add any fresh features of horror to the religiouspersecution under which the provinces were groaning, but a new attackcould be made upon the poor remains of their wealth. 

The Duke had been dissatisfied with the results of his financialarrangements. The confiscation of banished and murdered heretics had notproved the inexhaustible mine he had boasted. The stream of gold whichwas to flow perennially into the Spanish coffers, soon ceased to flow atall. This was inevitable. Confiscations must, of necessity, offer buta precarious supply to any treasury. It was only the frenzy of an Alvawhich could imagine it possible to derive a permanent revenue from such asource. It was, however, not to be expected that this man, whose tyrannyamounted to insanity, could comprehend the intimate connection betweenthe interests of a people and those of its rulers, and he was determinedto exhibit; by still more fierce and ludicrous experiments, how easily agreat soldier may become a very paltry financier. 

He had already informed his royal master that, after a very short time, remittances would no longer be necessary from Spain to support theexpenses of the array and government in the Netherlands. He promised, on the contrary, that at least two millions yearly should be furnished bythe provinces, over and above the cost of their administration, to enrichthe treasury at home. Another Peru had already been discovered by hisingenuity, and one which was not dependent for its golden fertility onthe continuance of that heresy which it was his mission to extirpate. His boast had been much ridiculed in Madrid, where he had more enemiesthan friends, and he was consequently the more eager to convert it intoreality. Nettled by the laughter with which all his schemes of politicaleconomy had been received at home, he was determined to show that hiscreative statesmanship was no less worthy of homage than his indisputablegenius for destruction. 

His scheme was nothing more than the substitution of an arbitrary systemof taxation by the Crown, for the legal and constitutional right of theprovinces to tax themselves. It was not a very original thought, but itwas certainly a bold one. For although a country so prostrate mightsuffer the imposition of any fresh amount of tyranny, yet it was doubtfulwhether she had sufficient strength remaining to bear the weight after ithad been imposed. It was certain, moreover, that the new system wouldcreate a more general outcry than any which had been elicited even by thereligious persecution. There were many inhabitants who were earnest andsincere Catholics, and who therefore considered themselves safe from thehangman's hands, while there were none who could hope to escape the gripeof the new tax-gatherers. Yet the Governor was not the man to be dauntedby the probable unpopularity of the measure. Courage he possessed inmore than mortal proportion. He seemed to have set himself to the taskof ascertaining the exact capacity of the country for wretchedness. Hewas resolved accurately to gauge its width and its depth; to know howmuch of physical and moral misery might be accumulated within its limits, before it should be full to overflowing. Every man, woman, and child inthe country had been solemnly condemned to death; and arbitraryexecutions, in pursuance of that sentence, had been daily taking place. Millions of property had been confiscated; while the most fortunate andindustrious, as well as the bravest of the Netherlanders, were wanderingpenniless in distant lands. Still the blows, however recklesslydistributed, had not struck every head. The inhabitants had beendecimated, not annihilated, and the productive energy of the country, which for centuries had possessed so much vitality, was even yet nottotally extinct. In the wreck of their social happiness, in the utteroverthrow of their political freedom, they had still preserved theshadow, at least, of one great bulwark against despotism. The king couldimpose no tax. 

The "Joyeuse Entree" of Brabant, as well as the constitutions ofFlanders, Holland, Utrecht, and all the other provinces, expresslyprescribed the manner in which the requisite funds for government shouldbe raised. The sovereign or his stadholder was to appear before theestates in person, and make his request for money. It was for theestates, after consultation with their constituents, to decide whether ornot this petition (Bede) should be granted, and should a single branchdecline compliance, the monarch was to wait with patience for a morefavorable moment. Such had been the regular practice in the Netherlands, nor had the reigning houses often had occasion to accuse the estates ofparsimony. It was, however, not wonderful that the Duke of Alva shouldbe impatient at the continued existence of this provincial privilege. A country of condemned criminals, a nation whose universal neck mightat any moment be laid upon the block without ceremony, seemed hardly fitto hold the purse-strings, and to dispense alms to its monarch. TheViceroy was impatient at this arrogant vestige of constitutional liberty. Moreover, although he had taken from the Netherlanders nearly all theattributes of freemen, he was unwilling that they should enjoy theprincipal privilege of slaves, that of being fed and guarded at theirmaster's expense. He had therefore summoned a general assembly of theprovincial estates in Brussels, and on the 20th of March, 1569, hadcaused the following decrees to be laid before them. 

A tax of the hundredth penny, or one per cent. , was laid upon allproperty, real and personal, to be collected instantly. This impost, however, was not perpetual, but only to be paid once, unless, of course, it should suit the same arbitrary power by which it was assessed torequire it a second time. 

A tax of the twentieth penny; or five per cent. , was laid upon everytransfer of real estate. This imposition was perpetual. 

Thirdly, a tag of the tenth penny, or ten per cent. , was assessed uponevery article of merchandise or personal-property, to be paid as often asit should be sold. This tax was likewise to be perpetual. 

The consternation in the assembly when these enormous propositions wereheard, can be easily imagined. People may differ about religious dogmas. In the most bigoted persecutions there will always be many who, fromconscientious although misguided motives, heartily espouse the cause ofthe bigot. Moreover, although resistance to tyranny in matters of faith, is always the most ardent of struggles, and is supported by the mostsublime principle in our nature, yet all men are not of the sterner stuffof which martyrs are fashioned. In questions relating to the worldabove; many may be seduced from their convictions by interest, or forcedinto apostasy by violence. Human nature is often malleable or fusible, where religious interests are concerned, but in affairs material andfinancial opposition to tyranny is apt to be unanimous. 

The interests of commerce and manufacture, when brought into conflictwith those of religion, had often proved victorious in the Netherlands. This new measure, however--this arbitrary and most prodigious system oftaxation, struck home to every fireside. No individual, however adroitor time-serving, could parry the blow by which all were crushed. 

It was most unanswerably maintained in the assembly, that this tenth andtwentieth penny would utterly destroy the trade and the manufactures ofthe country. The hundredth penny, or the one per cent. Assessment on allproperty throughout the land, although a severe subsidy, might be bornewith for once. To pay, however, a twentieth part of the full value of ahouse to the government as often as the house was sold, was a mostintolerable imposition. A house might be sold twenty times in a year, and in the course, therefore, of the year be confiscated in its wholevalue. It amounted either to a prohibition of all transfers of realestate, or to an eventual surrender of its price. 

As to the tenth penny upon articles of merchandise, to be paid by thevendor at every sale, the scheme was monstrous. All trade andmanufactures must, of necessity, expire, at the very first attempt to putit in execution. The same article might be sold ten times in a week, andmight therefore pay one hundred per cent. Weekly. An article, moreover, was frequently compounded of ten, different articles, each of which mightpay one hundred per cent. , and therefore the manufactured article, if tentimes transferred, one thousand per cent. Weekly. Quick transfers andunfettered movements being the nerves and muscles of commerce, it wasimpossible for it long to survive the paralysis of such a tax. Theimpost could never be collected, and would only produce an entireprostration of industry. It could by no possibility enrich thegovernment. 

The King could not derive wealth from the ruin of his subjects; yet toestablish such a system was the stern and absurd determination of theGovernor-general. The infantine simplicity of the effort seemedincredible. The ignorance was as sublime as the tyranny. The mostlucid arguments and the most earnest remonstrances were all in vain. Too opaque to be illumined by a flood of light, too hard to be meltedby a nation's tears, the Viceroy held calmly to his purpose. To the keenand vivid representations of Viglius, who repeatedly exhibited all thatwas oppressive and all that was impossible in the tax, he answered simplythat it was nothing more nor less than the Spanish "alcabala, " and thathe derived 50, 000 ducats yearly from its imposition in his own city ofAlva. 

Viglius was upon this occasion in opposition to the Duke. It is butjustice to state that the learned jurisconsult manfully and repeatedlyconfronted the wrath of his superior in many a furious discussion incouncil upon the subject. He had never essayed to snatch one brand fromthe burning out of the vast holocaust of religious persecution, but hewas roused at last by the threatened destruction of all the materialinterests of the land. He confronted the tyrant with courage, sustainedperhaps by the knowledge that the proposed plan was not the King's, but the Governor's. He knew that it was openly ridiculed in Madrid, and that Philip, although he would probably never denounce it in terms, was certainly not eager for its execution. The President enlarged uponthe difference which existed between the condition of a sparsely-peopledcountry of herdsmen and laborers in Spain, and the densely-throngedand bustling cities of the Netherlands. If the Duke collected 50, 000ducats yearly from the alcabala in Alva, he could only offer him hiscongratulations, but could not help assuring him that the tax would provean impossibility in the provinces. To his argument, that the impostwould fall with severity not upon the highest nor the lowest classes ofsociety, neither upon the great nobility and clergy nor on the rusticpopulation, but on the merchants and manufacturers, it was answered bythe President that it was not desirable to rob Saint Peter's altar inorder to build one to Saint Paul. It might have been simpler to suggestthat the consumer would pay the tax, supposing it were ever paid at all, but the axiom was not so familiar three centuries ago as now. 

Meantime, the report of the deputies to the assembly on their return totheir constituents had created the most intense excitement and alarm. Petition after petition, report after report, poured in upon thegovernment. There was a cry of despair, and almost of defiance, whichhad not been elicited by former agonies. To induce, however, a morefavorable disposition on the part of the Duke, the hundredth penny, oncefor all, was conceded by the estates. The tenth and twentiethoccasioned--severe and protracted struggles, until the various assembliesof the patrimonial provinces, one after another, exhausted, frightened, and hoping that no serious effort would be made to collect the tax, consented, under certain restrictions, to its imposition. --The principalconditions were a protest against the legality of the proceeding, and theprovision that the consent of no province should be valid until that ofall had been obtained. Holland, too, was induced to give in itsadhesion, although the city of Amsterdam long withheld its consent;but the city and province of Utrecht were inexorable. They offereda handsome sum in commutation, increasing the sum first proposed from70, 000 to 200, 000 florins, but they resolutely refused to be saddled withthis permanent tax. Their stout resistance was destined to cost themdear. In the course of a few months Alva, finding them still resolute intheir refusal, quartered the regiment of Lombardy upon them, and employedother coercive measures to bring them to reason. The rude, insolent, unpaid and therefore insubordinate soldiery were billeted in every housein the city, so that the insults which the population were made to sufferby the intrusion of these ruffians at their firesides would soon, it wasthought, compel the assent of the province to the tax. It was not so, however. The city and the province remained stanch in their opposition. Accordingly, at the close of the year (15th. December, 1569) the estateswere summoned to appear within fourteen days before the Blood Council. At the appointed time the procureur-general was ready with an act ofaccusation, accompanied, as was usually the case, with a simultaneoussentence of condemnation. The indictment revived and recapitulated allprevious offences committed in the city and the province, particularlyduring the troubles of 1566, and at the epoch of the treaty with DuchessMargaret. The inhabitants and the magistrates, both in their individualand public capacities, were condemned for heresy, rebellion, andmisprision. The city and province were accordingly pronounced guiltyof high treason, were deprived of all their charters, laws, privileges, freedoms, and customs, and were declared to have forfeited all theirproperty, real and personal, together with all tolls, rents, excises, andimposts, the whole being confiscated to the benefit of his Majesty. 

The immediate execution of the sentence was, however, suspended, to allowthe estates opportunity to reply. An enormous mass of pleadings, replies, replications, rejoinders, and apostilles was the result, whichfew eyes were destined to read, and least of all those to whom they werenominally addressed. They were of benefit to none save in the shape offees which they engendered to the gentlemen of the robe. It was sixmonths, however, before the case was closed. As there was no blood tobe shed, a summary process was not considered necessary. At last, on the14th July, the voluminous pile of documents was placed before Vargas. Itwas the first time he had laid eyes upon them, and they were, moreover, written in a language of which he did not understand a word. Such, however, was his capacity for affairs, that a glance only at the outsideof the case enabled him to form his decision. Within half an hourafterwards, booted and spurred, he was saying mass in the church of SaintGudule, on his way to pronounce sentence at Antwerp. That judgment wasrendered the same day, and confirmed the preceding act of condemnation. Vargas went to his task as cheerfully as if it had been murder. The actof outlawry and beggary was fulminated against the city and province, anda handsome amount of misery for others, and of plunder for himself, wasthe result of his promptness. Many thousand citizens were ruined, manymillions of property confiscated. 

Thus was Utrecht deprived of all its ancient liberties, as a punishmentfor having dared to maintain them. The clergy, too, of the province, having invoked the bull "in Coena Domini, " by which clerical property wasdeclared exempt from taxation, had excited the wrath of the Duke. Towield so slight a bulrush against the man who had just been girded withthe consecrated and jewelled sword of the Pope, was indeed but a feebleattempt at defence. Alva treated the Coena Domini with contempt, but heimprisoned the printer who had dared to-republish it at this juncture. Finding, moreover, that it had been put in press by the orders of no lessa person than Secretary La Torre, he threw that officer also into prison, besides suspending him from his functions for a year. 

The estates of the province and the magistracy of the city appealed tohis Majesty from the decision of the Duke. The case did not directlyconcern the interests of religion, for although the heretical troubles of1566 furnished the nominal motives of the condemnation, the resistance tothe tenth and twentieth penny was the real crime for which they weresuffering. The King, therefore, although far from clement, was notextremely rigorous. He refused the object of the appeal, but he did notput the envoys to death by whom it was brought to Madrid. This wouldhave certainly been the case in matters strictly religious, or even hadthe commissioners arrived two years before, but even Philip believed, perhaps, that for the moment almost enough innocent blood had been shed. At any rate he suffered the legates from Utrecht to return, not withtheir petition, granted, but at least with their heads upon theirshoulders. Early in the following year, the provinces still remainingunder martial law, all the Utrecht charters were taken into thepossession of government, and deposited in the castle of Vredenberg. It was not till after the departure of Alva, that they were restored;according to royal command, by the new governor, Requesens. 

By the middle of the year 1569, Alva wrote to the King, with greatcheerfulness of tone, announcing that the estates of the provinces hadall consented to the tax. He congratulated his Majesty upon the factthat this income might thenceforth be enjoyed in perpetuity, and that itwould bring at least two millions yearly into his coffers, over and abovethe expenses of government. The hundredth penny, as he calculated, wouldamount to at least five millions. 

He was, however, very premature in his triumph, for the estates were notlong in withdrawing a concession which had either been wrung from them byviolence or filched from them by misrepresentation. Taking the groundthat the assent of all had been stipulated before that of any one shouldbe esteemed valid, every province now refused to enforce or to permit thecollection of the tenth or the twentieth penny within their limits. Direwere the threatenings and the wrath of the Viceroy, painfully protractedthe renewed negotiations with the estates. At last, a compromise waseffected, and the final struggle postponed. Late in the summer it wasagreed that the provinces should pay two millions yearly for the twofollowing years, the term to expire in the month of August, 1571. Tillthat period, therefore, there was comparative repose upon the subject. 

The question of a general pardon had been agitated for more than a year, both in Brussels and Madrid. Viglius, who knew his countrymen betterthan the Viceroy knew them, had written frequently to his friend Hopper, on the propriety of at once proclaiming an amnesty. There had also beenmany conferences between himself and the Duke of Alva, and he hadfurnished more than one draught for the proposed measure. The Presidentknew full well that the point had been reached beyond which the force oftyranny could go no further. All additional pressure, he felt sure, could only produce reaction, the effect of which might be to drive theSpaniards from the Netherlands. There might then be another game toplay. The heads of those who had so assiduously served the governmentthroughout its terrible career might, in their turn, be brought to theblock, and their estates be made to enrich the Treasury. Moreover, therewere symptoms that Alva's favor was on the wane. The King had not beenremarkably struck with the merits of the new financial measures, and hadexpressed much, anxiety lest the trade of the country should suffer. The Duke was known to be desirous of his recal. His health was broken, he felt that he was bitterly detested throughout the country, and he wascertain that his enemies at Madrid were fast undermining his credit. Heseemed also to have a dim suspicion that his mission was accomplished inthe Netherlands; that as much blood had been shed at present as the landcould easily absorb. He wrote urgently and even piteously to Philip, onthe subject of his return. "Were your Majesty only pleased to take mefrom this country, " he said, "I should esteem it as great a favor as ifyour Majesty had given me life. " He swore "by the soul of the Duchess, "that he "would rather be cut into little pieces" than retire from hispost were his presence necessary, but he expressed the opinion thatthrough his exertions affairs had been placed in such train that theywere sure to roll on smoothly to the end of time. "At present, and forthe future, " he wrote, "your Majesty is and will be more strictly obeyedthan any of your predecessors;" adding, with insane self-complacency, "and all this has been accomplished without violence. " He also assuredhis Majesty as to the prosperous condition of financial affairs. His taxwas to work wonders. He had conversed with capitalists who had offeredhim four millions yearly for the tenth penny, but he had refused, becausehe estimated the product at a much higher figure. The hundredth pennycould not be rated lower than five millions. It was obvious, therefore, that instead of remitting funds to the provinces, his Majesty would, for the future, derive from them a steady and enormous income. Moreover, he assured the King that there was at present no one to inspire anxietyfrom within or without. The only great noble of note in the country wasthe Duke of Aerschot, who was devoted to his Majesty, and who, moreover, "amounted to very little, " as the King well knew. As for the Prince ofOrange, he would have business enough in keeping out of the clutches ofhis creditors. They had nothing to fear from Germany. England would donothing as long as Germany was quiet; and France was sunk too low to befeared at all. 

Such being the sentiments of the Duke, the King was already consideringthe propriety of appointing his successor. All this was known to thePresident. He felt instinctively that more clemency was to be expectedfrom that successor, whoever he might be; and he was satisfied, therefore, that he would at least not be injuring his own position byinclining at this late hour to the side of mercy. His opposition to thetenth and twentieth penny had already established a breach betweenhimself and the Viceroy, but he felt secretly comforted by the reflectionthat the King was probably on the same side with himself. Alva stillspoke of him, to be sure, both in public and private, with approbation;taking occasion to commend him frequently, in his private letters, as a servant upright and zealous, as a living register, without whoseuniversal knowledge of things and persons he should hardly know whichway to turn. The President, however, was growing weary of his ownsycophancy. He begged his friend Joachim to take his part, if hisExcellency should write unfavorably about his conduct to the King. Heseemed to have changed his views of the man concerning whose "prudenceand gentleness" he could once turn so many fine periods. He evenexpressed some anxiety lest doubts should begin to be entertainedas to the perfect clemency of the King's character. "Here is so muchconfiscation and bloodshed going on, " said he, "that some taint ofcruelty or avarice may chance to bespatter the robe of his Majesty. "He also confessed that he had occasionally read in history of greaterbenignity than was now exercised against the poor Netherlanders. Had thelearned Frisian arrived at these humane conclusions at a somewhat earlierday, it might perhaps have been better for himself and for hisfatherland. Had he served his country as faithfully as he had servedTime, and Philip, and Alva, his lands would not have been so broad, norhis dignities so numerous, but he would not have been obliged, in his oldage; to exclaim, with whimsical petulance, that "the faithful servant isalways a perpetual ass. "

It was now certain that an act of amnesty was in contemplation by theKing. Viglius had furnished several plans, which, however, had beenso much disfigured by the numerous exceptions suggested by Alva, thatthe President could scarce recognize his work. Granvelle, too, hadfrequently urged the pardon on the attention of Philip. The Cardinalwas too astute not to perceive that the time had arrived when a continuedseverity could only defeat its own work. He felt that the country couldnot be rendered more abject, the spirit of patriotism more apparentlyextinct. A show of clemency, which would now cost nothing, and wouldmean nothing, might be more effective than this profuse and wantonbloodshed. 

He saw plainly that the brutality of Alva had already overshot the mark. Too politic, however, openly to reprove so powerful a functionary, hecontinued to speak of him and of his administration to Philip in termsof exalted eulogy. He was a "sage seignior, " a prudent governor, one onwhom his Majesty could entirely repose. He was a man of long experience, trained all his life to affairs, and perfectly capable of giving a goodaccount of everything to which he turned his hands. He admitted, however, to other correspondents, that the administration of the sageseignior, on whom his Majesty could so implicitly rely, had at last"brought that provinces into a deplorable condition. "

Four different forms of pardon had been sent from Madrid, toward theclose of 1569. From these four the Duke was to select one, and carefullyto destroy the other three. It was not, however, till July of thefollowing year that the choice was made, and the Viceroy in readiness toannounce the pardon. On the 14th of that month a great festival was heldat Antwerp, for the purpose of solemnly proclaiming the long expectedamnesty. In the morning, the Duke, accompanied by a brilliant staff, andby a long procession of clergy in their gorgeous robes, paraded throughthe streets of the commercial capital, to offer up prayers and hear massin the cathedral. The Bishop of Arras then began a sermon upon theblessings of mercy, with a running commentary upon the royal clemencyabout to be exhibited. In the very outset, however, of his discourse, he was seized with convulsions, which required his removal from thepulpit; an incident which was not considered of felicitous augury. Inthe afternoon, the Duke with his suite appeared upon the square in frontof the Town House. Here a large scaffolding or theatre had been erected. The platform and the steps which led to it were covered with scarletcloth. A throne, covered with cloth of gold, was arranged in the mostelevated position for the Duke. On the steps immediately below him wereplaced two of the most beautiful women in Antwerp, clad in allegoricalgarments to represent righteousness and peace. The staircase andplatform were lined with officers, the square was beset with troops, andfilled to its utmost verge with an expectant crowd of citizens. Towardthe close of a summer's afternoon, the Duke wearing the famous hat andsword of the Pope, took his seat on the throne with all the airs ofroyalty. After a few preliminary ceremonies, a civil functionary, standing between two heralds; then recited the long-expected act ofgrace. His reading, however, was so indistinct, that few save thesoldiers in the immediate vicinity of the platform could hear a word ofthe document. 

This effect was, perhaps, intentional. Certainly but little enthusiasmcould be expected from the crowd, had the text of the amnesty been heard. It consisted of three parts--a recitation of the wrongs committed, astatement of the terms of pardon, and a long list of exceptions. All thesins of omission and commission, the heresy, the public preaching, theimage-breaking, the Compromise, the confederacy, the rebellion, werepainted in lively colors. Pardon, however, was offered to all those whohad not rendered themselves liable to positive impeachment, in case theyshould make their peace with the Church before the expiration of twomonths, and by confession and repentance obtain their absolution. The exceptions, however, occupied the greater part of the document. When the general act of condemnation had been fulminated by which allNetherlanders were sentenced to death, the exceptions had been very few, and all the individuals mentioned by name. In the act of pardon, theexceptions comprehended so many classes of inhabitants, that it wasimpossible for any individual to escape a place in, some one of thecategories, whenever it should please the government to take his life. Expressly excluded from the benefit of the act were all ministers, teachers, dogmatizers, and all who had favored and harbored suchdogmatizers and preachers; all those in the least degree implicated inthe image-breaking; all who had ever been individually suspected ofheresy or schism; all who had ever signed or favored the Compromise orthe Petition to the Regent; all those who had taken up arms, contributedmoney, distributed tracts; all those in any manner chargeable withmisprision, or who had failed to denounce those guilty of heresy. Allpersons, however, who were included in any of these classes of exceptionsmight report themselves within six months, when, upon confession of theircrime, they might hope for a favorable consideration of their case. 

Such, in brief, and stripped of its verbiage, was this amnesty for whichthe Netherlands had so long been hoping. By its provisions, not a man orwoman was pardoned who had ever committed a fault. The innocent alonewere forgiven. Even they were not sure of mercy, unless they shouldobtain full absolution from the Pope. More certainly than ever would theaccustomed rigor be dealt to all who had committed any of those positiveacts for which so many had already lost their heads. The clause by whicha possibility of pardon was hinted to such criminals, provided they wouldconfess and surrender, was justly regarded as a trap. No one wasdeceived by it. No man, after the experience of the last three years;would voluntarily thrust his head into the lion's mouth, in order to fixit more firmly upon his shoulders. No man who had effected his escapewas likely to play informer against himself, in hope of obtaining apardon from which all but the most sincere and zealous Catholics were inreality excepted. 

The murmur and discontent were universal, therefore, as soon as the termsof the act became known. Alva wrote to the King, to be sure, "that thepeople were entirely satisfied, save only the demagogues, who couldtolerate no single exception from the amnesty; but he could neitherdeceive his sovereign nor himself by such statements. " Certainly, Philipwas totally disappointed in the effect which he had anticipated from themeasure. He had thought "it would stop the mouths of many people. "On the contrary, every mouth in the Netherlands became vociferous todenounce the hypocrisy by which a new act of condemnation had beenpromulgated under the name of a pardon. Viglius, who had drawn up aninstrument of much ampler clemency, was far from satisfied with themeasure which had been adopted. "Certainly, " he wrote to his confidant, "a more benignant measure was to be expected from so merciful a Prince. After four years have past, to reserve for punishment and for executionall those who during the tumult did not, through weakness of mind, renderas much service to government as brave men might have offered, isaltogether unexampled. "

Alva could not long affect to believe in the people's satisfaction. Hesoon wrote to the King, acknowledging that the impression produced by thepardon was far from favorable. He attributed much evil effect to thesevere censure which was openly pronounced upon the act by members of thegovernment, both in Spain and the Netherlands. He complained that Hopperhad written to Viglius, that "the most severe of the four forms of pardontransmitted had been selected;" the fact being, that the most lenient onehad been adopted. If this were so, whose imagination is powerful enoughto portray the three which had been burned, and which, although moresevere than the fierce document promulgated, were still entitled acts ofpardon? The Duke spoke bitterly of the manner in which influentialpersons in Madrid had openly abominated the cruel form of amnesty whichhad been decreed. His authority in the Netherlands was alreadysufficiently weakened, he said, and such censure upon his actions fromhead-quarters did not tend to improve it. "In truth, " he added, almostpathetically, "it is not wonderful that the whole nation should be ill-disposed towards me, for I certainly have done nothing to make them loveme. At the same time, such language transmitted from Madrid does notincrease their tenderness. "

In short, viewed as a measure by which government, without disarmingitself of its terrible powers, was to pacify the popular mind, theamnesty was a failure. Viewed as a net, by which fresh victims should beenticed to entangle themselves, who had already made their way into thedistant atmosphere of liberty, it was equally unsuccessful. A few veryobscure individuals made their appearance to claim the benefit of theact, before the six months had expired. With these it was thoughtexpedient to deal gently; but no one was deceived by such clemency. As the common people expressed themselves, the net was not spread onthat occasion for finches. 

The wits of the Netherlands, seeking relief from their wretched conditionin a still more wretched quibble, transposed two letters of the wordPardona, and re-baptized the new measure Pandora. The conceit was notwithout meaning. The amnesty, descending from supernal regions, had beenushered into the presence of mortals as a messenger laden with heavenlygifts. The casket, when opened, had diffused curses instead ofblessings. There, however, the classical analogy ended, for itwould have puzzled all the pedants of Louvain to discover Hopelurking, under any disguise, within the clauses of the pardon. 

Very soon after the promulgation of this celebrated act, the new brideof Philip, Anne of Austria, passed through the Netherlands, on her wayto Madrid. During her brief stay in Brussels, she granted an interviewto the Dowager Countess of Horn. That unhappy lady, having seen hereldest son, the head of her illustrious house, so recently perish on thescaffold, wished to make a last effort in behalf of the remaining one, then closely confined in the prison of Segovia. The Archduchess solemnlypromised that his release should be the first boon which she wouldrequest of her royal bridegroom, and the bereaved countess retired almostwith a hope. 

A short digression must here be allowed, to narrate the remainingfortunes of that son, the ill-starred Seigneur de Montigny. His missionto Madrid in company of the Marquis Berghen has been related in aprevious volume. The last and most melancholy scene in the life of hisfellow envoy has been described in a recent chapter. After that ominousevent, Montigny became most anxious to effect his retreat from Spain. He had been separated more than a year from his few months' bride. He was not imprisoned, but he felt himself under the most rigid althoughsecret inspection. It was utterly impossible for him to obtain leave toreturn, or to take his departure without permission. On one occasion, having left the city accidentally for a ride on horseback to an adjoiningvillage, he found himself surrounded by an unexpected escort of fortytroopers. Still, however, the King retained a smiling mien. ToMontigny's repeated and urgent requests for dismissal, Philip graciouslyurged his desire for a continuance of his visit. He was requested toremain in order to accompany his sovereign upon that journey to theNetherlands which would not be much longer delayed. In his impatienceanything seemed preferable to the state of suspense in which he was madeto linger. He eagerly offered, if he were accused or suspected of crime, to surrender himself to imprisonment if he only could be brought totrial. Soon after Alva's arrival in the Netherlands, the first part ofthis offer was accepted. No sooner were the arrests of Egmont and Hornknown in Madrid, than Montigny was deprived of his liberty, and closelyconfined in the alcazar of Segovia. Here he remained imprisoned foreight or nine months in a high tower, with no attendant save a youngpage, Arthur de Munter, who had accompanied him from the Netherlands. Eight men-at-arms were expressly employed to watch over him and toprevent his escape. 

One day towards the middle of July, 1568, a band of pilgrims, some ofthem in Flemish attire, went through the streets of Segovia. They werechanting, as was customary on such occasions, a low, monotonous song, in which Montigny, who happened to be listening, suddenly recognized thelanguage of his fatherland. His surprise was still greater when, uponpaying closer attention, he distinguished the terrible meaning of thesong. The pretended pilgrims, having no other means of communicationwith the prisoner, were singing for his information the tragic fates ofhis brother, Count Horn, and of his friend, Count Egmont. Mingled withthe strain were warnings of his own approaching doom; if he were not ableto effect his escape before it should be too late. Thus by this friendlymasquerade did Montigny learn the fate of his brother, which otherwise, in that land of terrible secrecy, might have been concealed from him forever. 

The hint as to his own preservation was not lost upon him; and he atonce set about a plan of escape. He succeeded in gaining over to hisinterests one of the eight soldiers by whom he was guarded, and he wasthus enabled to communicate with many of his own adherents without theprison walls. His major-domo had previously been permitted to furnishhis master's table with provisions dressed by his own cook. Acorrespondence was now carried on by means of letters concealed withinthe loaves of bread sent daily to the prisoner. In the same way fileswere provided for sawing through his window-bars. A very delicate ladderof ropes, by which he was to effect his escape into the court below, wasalso transmitted. The plan had been completely arranged. A certain Poleemployed in the enterprise was to be at Hernani, with horses in readinessto convey them to San Sebastian. There a sloop had been engaged, and waswaiting their arrival. Montigny, accordingly, in a letter enclosedwithin a loaf of bread--the last, as he hoped, which he should break inprison--was instructed, after cutting off his beard and otherwisedisguising his person, to execute his plan and join his confederates atHernani. Unfortunately, the major-domo of Montigny was in love. Uponthe eve of departure from Spain, his farewell interview with his mistresswas so much protracted that the care of sending the bread was left toanother. The substitute managed so unskilfully that the loaf was broughtto the commandant of the castle, and not to the prisoner. The commandantbroke the bread, discovered the letter, and became master of the wholeplot. All persons engaged in the enterprise were immediately condemnedto death, and the Spanish soldier executed without delay. The othersbeing considered, on account of their loyalty to their master asdeserving a commutation of punishment, were sent to the galleys. Themajor-domo, whose ill-timed gallantry had thus cost Montigny his liberty, received two hundred lashes in addition. All, however, were eventuallyreleased from imprisonment. 

The unfortunate gentleman was now kept in still closer confinement in hislonely tower. As all his adherents had been disposed of, he could nolonger entertain a hope of escape. In the autumn of this year (1568) itwas thought expedient by Alva to bring his case formally before the BloodCouncil. Montigny had committed no crime, but he was one of that band ofpopular, nobles whose deaths had been long decreed. Letters wereaccordingly sent to Spain, empowering certain functionaries there toinstitute that preliminary examination, which, as usual, was to be theonly trial vouchsafed. A long list of interrogatories was addressed tohim on February 7th, 1569, in his prison at Segovia. A week afterwards, he was again visited by the alcalde, who read over to him the answerswhich he had made on the first occasion, and required him to confirmthem. He was then directed to send his procuration to certain persons inthe Netherlands, whom he might wish to appear in his behalf. Montignycomplied by sending several names, with a clause of substitution. Allthe persons thus appointed, however, declined to act, unless they couldbe furnished with a copy of the procuration, and with a statement of thearticles of accusation. This was positively refused by the BloodCouncil. Seeing no possibility of rendering service to their friend byperforming any part in this mockery of justice, they refused to acceptthe procuration. They could not defend a case when not only thetestimony, but even the charges against the accused were kept secret. An individual was accordingly appointed by government to appear in theprisoner's behalf. 

Thus the forms of justice were observed, and Montigny, a close prisonerin the tower of Segovia, was put upon trial for his life in Brussels. Certainly nothing could exceed the irony of such a process. The advocatehad never seen his client, thousands of miles away, and was allowed tohold no communication with him by letter. The proceedings wereinstituted by a summons, addressed by the Duke of Alva to Madame deMontigny in Brussels. That unhappy lady could only appeal to the King. "Convinced, " she said, "that her husband was innocent of the chargesbrought against him, she threw herself, overwhelmed and consumed by tearsand misery, at his Majesty's feet. She begged the King to remember thepast services of Montigny, her own youth, and that she had enjoyed hiscompany but four months. By all these considerations, and by the passionof Jesus Christ, she adjured the monarch to pardon any faults which herhusband might have committed. " The reader can easily judge how mucheffect such a tender appeal was like to have upon the heart of Philip. From that rock; thus feebly smitten, there flowed no fountain of mercy. It was not more certain that Montigny's answers to the interrogatoriesaddressed to him had created a triumphant vindication of his course, thanthat such vindication would be utterly powerless to save his life. Thecharges preferred against him were similar to those which had broughtEgmont and Horn to the block, and it certainly created no ground of hopefor him, that he could prove himself even more innocent of suspiciousconduct than they had done. On the 4th March, 1570, accordingly, theDuke of Alva pronounced sentence against him. The sentence declared thathis head should be cut off, and afterwards exposed to public view uponthe head of a pike. Upon the 18th March, 1570, the Duke addressed arequisitory letter to the alcaldes, corregidors, and other judges ofCastile, empowering them to carry the sentence into execution. 

On the arrival of this requisition there was a serious debate before theKing in council. It seemed to be the general opinion that there had beenalmost severity enough in the Netherlands for the present. The spectacleof the public execution of another distinguished personage, it wasthought, might now prove more irritating than salutary. The King wasof this opinion himself. It certainly did not occur to him or to hisadvisers that this consideration should lead them to spare the life ofan innocent man. The doubts entertained as to the expediency of a freshmurder were not allowed to benefit the prisoner, who, besides being aloyal subject and a communicant of the ancient Church, was also clothedin the white robes of an envoy, claiming not only justice buthospitality, as the deputy of Philip's sister, Margaret of Parma. These considerations probably never occurred to the mind of His Majesty. In view, however, of the peculiar circumstances of the case, it wasunanimously agreed that there should be no more blood publicly shed. Most of the councillors were in favor of slow poison. Montigny's meatand drink, they said, should be daily drugged, so that he might die bylittle and little. Philip, however, terminated these disquisitions bydeciding that the ends of justice would not thus be sufficientlyanswered. The prisoner, he had resolved, should be regularly executed, but the deed should be secret, and it should be publicly announced thathe had died of a fever. 

This point having been settled; the King now set about the arrangementof his plan with all that close attention to detail which marked hischaracter. The patient industry which, had God given him a human heartand a love of right, might have made him a useful monarch, he now devotedto a scheme of midnight murder with a tranquil sense of enjoyment whichseems almost incredible. There is no exaggeration in calling the deeda murder, for it certainly was not sanctioned by any law, divine orhuman, nor justified or excused by any of the circumstances which aresupposed to palliate homicide. Nor, when the elaborate and superfluousluxury of arrangements made by Philip for the accomplishment of hisdesign is considered, can it be doubted that he found a positive pleasurein his task. It would almost seem that he had become jealous of Alva'sachievements in the work of slaughter. He appeared willing to prove tothose immediately about him, that however capable might be the Viceroy ofconducting public executions on a grand and terrifying scale, there wasyet a certain delicacy of finish never attained by Alva in such business, and which was all his Majesty's own. The King was resolved to make theassassination of Montigny a masterpiece. 

On the 17th August, 1570, he accordingly directed Don Eugenio de Peralta, concierge of the fortress of Simancas, to repair to Segovia, and thenceto remove the Seigneur Montigny to Simancas. Here he was to be strictlyimmured; yet was to be allowed at times to walk in the corridor adjoininghis chamber. On the 7th October following, the licentiate Don Alonzo deAvellano, alcalde of Valladolid, was furnished with an order addressed bythe King to Don Eugenio de Peralta, requiring him to place the prisonerin the hands of the said licentiate, who was charged with the executionof Alva's sentence. This functionary had, moreover, been provided with aminute letter of instructions, which had been drawn up according to theKing's directions, on the 1st October. In these royal instructions, itwas stated that, although the sentence was for a public execution, yetthe King had decided in favor of a private one within the walls of thefortress. It was to be managed so that no one should suspect thatMontigny had been executed, but so that, on the contrary, it should beuniversally said and believed that he had died a natural death. Very fewpersons, all sworn and threatened into secrecy, were therefore to beemployed. Don Alonzo was to start immediately for Valladolid; which waswithin two short leagues of Simancas. At that place he would communicatewith Don Eugenio, and arrange the mode, day, and hour of execution. Hewould leave Valladolid on the evening before a holiday, late in theafternoon, so as to arrive a little after dark at Simancas. He wouldtake with him a confidential notary, an executioner, and as few servantsas possible. Immediately upon his entrance to the fortress, he was tocommunicate the sentence of death to Montigny, in presence of Don Eugenioand of one or two other persons. He would then console him, in whichtask he would be assisted by Don Eugenio. He would afterwards leave himwith the religious person who would be appointed for that purpose. Thatnight and the whole of the following day, which would be a festival, tillafter midnight, would be allotted to Montigny, that he might have time toconfess, to receive the sacraments, to convert himself to God, and torepent. Between one and two o'clock in the morning the execution was totake place, in presence of the ecclesiastic, of Don Eugenio de Peralta, of the notary, and of one or two other persons, who would be needed bythe executioner. The ecclesiastic was to be a wise and prudent person, and to be informed how little confidence Montigny inspired in the articleof faith. If the prisoner should wish to make a will, it could not bepermitted. As all his property had been confiscated, he could dispose ofnothing. Should he, however, desire to make a memorial of the debtswhich he would wish paid; he was to be allowed that liberty. It was, however, to be stipulated that he was to make no allusion, in anymemorial or letter which he might write, to the execution which was aboutto take place. He was to use the language of a man seriously ill, andwho feels himself at the point of death. By this infernal ingenuity itwas proposed to make the victim an accomplice in the plot, and to place afalse exculpation of his assassins in his dying lips. The executionhaving been fulfilled, and the death having been announced with thedissimulation prescribed, the burial was to take place in the church ofSaint Saviour, in Simancas. A moderate degree of pomp, such as befitteda person of Montigny's quality, was to be allowed, and a decent tomberected. A grand mass was also to be celebrated, with a respectablenumber, "say seven hundred, " of lesser masses. As the servants of thedefunct were few in number, continued the frugal King, they might beprovided each with a suit of mourning. Having thus personally arrangedall the details of this secret work, from the reading of the sentence tothe burial of the prisoner; having settled not only the mode of hisdeparture from life, but of his passage through purgatory, the Kingdespatched the agent on his mission. 

The royal program was faithfully enacted. Don Alonzo arrived atValladolid; and made his arrangements with Don Eugenio. It was agreedthat a paper, prepared by royal authority, and brought by Don Alonzo fromMadrid, should be thrown into the corridor of Montigny's prison. Thispaper, written in Latin, ran as follows:

 "In the night, as I understand, there will be no chance for your escape. In the daytime there will be many; for you are then in charge of a single gouty guardian, no match in strength or speed for so vigorous a man as you. Make your escape from the 8th to the 12th of October, at any hour you can, and take the road contiguous to the castle gate through which you entered. You will find Robert and John, who will be ready with horses, and with everything necessary. May God favor your undertaking. --R. D. M. "

The letter, thus designedly thrown into the corridor by one confederate, was soon afterwards picked up by the other, who immediately taxedMontigny with an attempt to escape. Notwithstanding the vehementprotestations of innocence naturally made by the prisoner, his pretendedproject was made the pretext for a still closer imprisonment in the"Bishop's Tower. " A letter, written at Madrid, by Philip's orders, hadbeen brought by Don Alonzo to Simancas, narrating by anticipation thesecircumstances, precisely as they had now occurred. It moreover statedthat Montigny, in consequence of his close confinement, had fallengrievously ill, and that he would receive all the attention compatiblewith his safe keeping. This letter, according to previous orders, wasnow signed by Don Eugenio de Peralta, dated 10th October, 1570; andpublicly despatched to Philip. It was thus formally established thatMontigny was seriously ill. A physician, thoroughly instructed and swornto secrecy, was now ostentatiously admitted to the tower, bringing withhim a vast quantity of drugs. He duly circulated among the townspeople, on his return, his opinion that the illustrious prisoner was afflictedwith a disorder from which it was almost impossible that he shouldrecover. Thus, thanks to Philip's masterly precautions, not a person inMadrid or Simancas was ignorant that Montigny was dying of a fever, withthe single exception of the patient himself. 

On Saturday, the 14th of October, at nightfall, Don Alonzo de Avellano, accompanied by the prescribed individuals, including Fray Hernando del, Castillo, an ecclesiastic of high reputation, made their appearance atthe prison of Simancas. At ten in the evening the announcement of thesentence was made to Montigny. He was visibly agitated at the suddenintelligence, for it was entirely unexpected by him. He had, on thecontrary, hoped much from the intercession of, the Queen, whose arrivalhe had already learned. He soon recovered himself, however, andrequested to be left alone with the ecclesiastic. All the night and thefollowing day were passed in holy offices. He conducted himself withgreat moderation, courage, and tranquillity. He protested his entireinnocence of any complicity with the Prince of Orange, or of any disloyaldesigns or sentiments at any period of his life. He drew up a memorial, expressing his strong attachment to every point of the Catholic faith, from which he had never for an instant swerved. His whole demeanor wasnoble, submissive, and Christian. "In every essential, " said FrayHernando, "he conducted himself so well that we who remain may bear himenvy. " He wrote a paper of instructions concerning his faithful andbereaved dependents. He placed his signet ring, attached to a small goldchain, in the hands of the ecclesiastic, to be by him transmitted to hiswife. Another ring, set with turquois, he sent to his mother-in-law, thePrincess Espinoy, from whom he had received it. About an hour aftermidnight, on the morning, therefore, of the 16th of October, FrayHernando gave notice that the prisoner was ready to die. The alcalde DonAlonzo then entered, accompanied by the executioner and the notary. Thesentence of Alva was now again recited, the alcalde adding that the King, "out of his clemency and benignity, " had substituted a secret for apublic execution. Montigny admitted that the judgment would be just andthe punishment lenient, if it were conceded that the charges against himwere true. His enemies, however, while he had been thus immured, hadpossessed the power to accuse him as they listed. He ceased to speak, and the executioner then came forward and strangled him. The alcalde, the notary, and the executioner then immediately started for Valladolid, so that no person next morning knew that they had been that night atSimancas, nor could guess the dark deed which they had then and thereaccomplished. The terrible, secret they were forbidden, on pain ofdeath, to reveal. 

Montigny, immediately after his death, was clothed in the habit of SaintFrancis, in order to conceal the marks of strangulation. In the courseof the day the body was deposited, according to the King's previousorders, in the church of Saint Saviour. Don Eugenio de Peralta, whosuperintended the interment, uncovered the face of the defunct to provehis identity, which was instantly recognised by many sorrowing servants. The next morning the second letter, prepared by Philip long before, andbrought by Don Alonzo de Avellano to Simancas, received the date of 17thOctober, 1570, together with the signature of Don Eugenio de Peralta, keeper of Simancas fortress, and was then publicly despatched to theKing. It stated that, notwithstanding the care given to the Seigneur deMontigny in his severe illness by the physicians who had attended him, hehad continued to grow worse and worse until the previous morning betweenthree and four o'clock, when he had expired. The Fray Hernando delCastillo, who had accidentally happened to be at Simancas, had performedthe holy offices, at the request of the deceased, who had died in socatholic a frame of mind, that great hopes might be entertained of hissalvation. Although he possessed no property, yet his burial had beenconducted very respectably. 

On the 3rd of November, 1570, these two letters, ostensibly written byDon Eugenio de Peralta, were transmitted by Philip to the Duke of Alva. They were to serve as evidence of the statement which the Governor-General was now instructed to make, that the Seigneur de Montigny haddied a natural death in the fortress of Simancas. By the same courier, the King likewise forwarded a secret memoir, containing the exact historyof the dark transaction, from which memoir the foregoing account has beenprepared. At the same time the Duke was instructed publicly to exhibitthe lying letters of Don Eugenio de Peralta, as containing an authenticstatement of the affair. The King observed, moreover, in his letter, that there was not a person in Spain who doubted that Montigny had diedof a fever. He added that if the sentiments of the deceased nobleman hadbeen at all in conformity with his external manifestations, according tothe accounts received of his last moments, it was to be hoped that Godwould have mercy upon his soul. The secretary who copied the letter, took the liberty of adding, however, to this paragraph the suggestion, that "if Montigny were really a heretic, the devil, who always assistshis children in such moments, would hardly have failed him in his dyinghour. " Philip, displeased with this flippancy, caused the passage to beerased. He even gave vent to his royal indignation in a marginal note, to the effect that we should always express favorable judgmentsconcerning the dead--a pious sentiment always dearer to writing mastersthan to historians. It seemed never to have occurred however to thisremarkable moralist, that it was quite as reprehensible to strangle aninnocent man as to speak ill of him after his decease. 

Thus perished Baron Montigny, four years after his arrival in Madrid asDuchess Margaret's ambassador, and three years after the death of hisfellow-envoy Marquis Berghen. No apology is necessary for so detailed anaccount of this dark and secret tragedy. The great transactions of areign are sometimes paltry things; great battles and great treaties, after vast consumption of life and of breath, often leave the world wherethey found it. The events which occupy many of the statelier pages ofhistory, and which have most lived in the mouths of men, frequentlycontain but commonplace lessons of philosophy. It is perhaps otherwisewhen, by the resuscitation of secret documents, over which the dust ofthree centuries has gathered, we are enabled to study the internalworking of a system of perfect tyranny. Liberal institutions, republicanor constitutional governments, move in the daylight; we see their mode ofoperation, feel the jar of their wheels, and are often needlessly alarmedat their apparent tendencies. The reverse of the picture is not alwaysso easily attainable. When, therefore, we find a careful portrait of aconsummate tyrant, painted by his own hand, it is worth our while topause for a moment, that we may carefully peruse the lineaments. Certainly, we shall afterwards not love liberty the less. 

Towards the end of the year 1570, still another and a terrible misfortunedescended upon the Netherlands. It was now the hand of God which smotethe unhappy country, already so tortured by the cruelty of war. Aninundation, more tremendous than any which had yet been recorded in thoseannals so prolific in such catastrophes, now swept the whole coast fromFlanders to Friesland. Not the memorable deluge of the thirteenthcentury, out of which the Zuyder Zee was born; not that in which thewaters of the Dollart had closed for ever over the villages and churchesof Groningen; not one of those perpetually recurring floods by which theinhabitants of the Netherlands, year after year, were recalled to ananxious remembrance of the watery chaos out of which their fatherland hadbeen created, and into which it was in daily danger of resolving itselfagain, had excited so much terror and caused so much destruction. Acontinued and violent gale from the north-west had long been sweeping theAtlantic waters into the North Sea, and had now piled them upon thefragile coasts of the provinces. The dykes, tasked beyond theirstrength, burst in every direction. The cities of Flanders, to aconsiderable distance inland, were suddenly invaded by the waters of theocean. The whole narrow peninsula of North Holland was in imminentdanger of being swept away for ever. Between Amsterdam and Meyden, thegreat Diemer dyke was broken through in twelve places. The Hand-bos, abulwark formed of oaken piles, fastened with metal clamps, moored withiron anchors, and secured by gravel and granite, was snapped to pieceslike packthread. The "Sleeper, " a dyke thus called, because it wasusually left in repose by the elements, except in great emergencies, alone held firm, and prevented the consummation of the catastrophe. Still the ocean poured in upon the land with terrible fury. Dort, Rotterdam, and many other cities were, for a time, almost submerged. Along the coast, fishing vessels, and even ships of larger size, werefloated up into the country, where they entangled themselves in grovesand orchards, or beat to pieces the roofs and walls of houses. Thedestruction of life and of property was enormous throughout the maritimeprovinces, but in Friesland the desolation was complete. There nearlyall the dykes and sluices were dashed to fragments; the country, far and-wide, converted into an angry sea. The steeples and towers of inlandcities became islands of the ocean. Thousands of human beings were sweptout of existence in a few hours. Whole districts of territory, with alltheir villages, farms, and churches, were rent from their places, bornealong by the force of the waves, sometimes to be lodged in another partof the country, sometimes to be entirely engulfed. Multitudes of men, women, children, of horses, oxen, sheep, and every domestic animal, werestruggling in the waves in every direction. Every boat, and everyarticle which could serve as a boat, were eagerly seized upon. Everyhouse was inundated; even the grave-yards gave up their dead. The livinginfant in his cradle, and the long-buried corpse in his coffin, floatedside by side. The ancient flood seemed about to be renewed. Everywhere, upon the top of trees, upon the steeples of churches, human beings wereclustered, praying to God for mercy, and to their fellow-men forassistance. As the storm at last was subsiding, boats began to ply inevery direction, saving those who were still struggling in the water, picking fugitives from roofs and tree-tops, and collecting the bodies ofthose already drowned. Colonel Robles, Seigneur de Billy, formerly muchhated for his Spanish or Portuguese blood, made himself very active inthis humane work. By his exertions, and those of the troops belonging toGroningen, many lives were rescued, and gratitude replaced the ancientanimosity. It was estimated that at least twenty thousand persons weredestroyed in the province of Friesland alone. Throughout theNetherlands, one hundred thousand persons perished. The damage aloneto property, the number of animals engulfed in the sea, were almostincalculable. 

These events took place on the 1st and 2nd November, 1570. The formerhappened to be the day of All Saints, and the Spaniards maintained loudlythat the vengeance of Heaven had descended upon the abode of heretics. The Netherlanders looked upon the catastrophe as ominous of stillmore terrible misfortunes in store for them. They seemed doomed todestruction by God and man. An overwhelming tyranny had long beenchafing against their constitutional bulwarks, only to sweep over them atlast; and now the resistless ocean, impatient of man's feeble barriers, had at last risen to reclaim his prey. Nature, as if disposed to put tothe blush the feeble cruelty of man, had thus wrought more havoc in a fewhours, than bigotry, however active, could effect in many years. 

Nearly at the close of this year (1570) an incident occurred, illustrating the ferocious courage so often engendered in civilcontests. On the western verge of the Isle of Bommel, stood thecastle of Lowestein. The island is not in the sea. It is the narrowbut important territory which is enclosed between the Meuse and the Waal. The castle, placed in a slender hook, at the junction of the two rivers, commanded the two cities of Gorcum and Dorcum, and the whole navigationof the waters. One evening, towards the end of December, four monks, wearing the cowls and robes of Mendicant Grey Friars, demandedhospitality at the castle gate. They were at once ushered into thepresence of the commandant, a brother of President Tisnacq. He wasstanding by the fire, conversing with his wife. The foremost monkapproaching him, asked whether the castle held for the Duke of Alvaor the Prince of Orange. The castellian replied that he recognized noprince save Philip, King of Spain. Thereupon the monk, who was no otherthan Herman de Ruyter, a drover by trade, and a warm partisan of Orange, plucked a pistol from beneath his robe, and shot the commandant throughthe head. The others, taking advantage of the sudden panic, overcame allthe resistance offered by the feeble garrison, and made themselvesmasters of the place. In the course of the next day they introduced intothe castle four or five and twenty men, with which force they diligentlyset themselves to fortify the place, and secure themselves in itspossession. A larger reinforcement which they had reckoned upon, wasdetained by the floods and frosts, which, for the moment, had made theroads and fivers alike impracticable. 

Don Roderigo de Toledo, governor of Bois le Duc, immediately despatcheda certain Captain Perea, at the head of two hundred soldiers, who werejoined on the way by a miscellaneous force of volunteers, to recover thefortress as soon as possible. The castle, bathed on its outward walls bythe Waal and Meuse, and having two redoubts, defended by a doubleinterior foss, would have been difficult to take by assaults had thenumber of the besieged been at all adequate to its defence. As mattersstood, however, the Spaniards, by battering a breach in the wall withtheir cannon on the first day, and then escalading the inner works withremarkable gallantry upon the second, found themselves masters of theplace within eight and forty hours of their first appearance before itsgates. Most of the defenders were either slain or captured alive. DeRuyter alone had betaken himself to an inner hall of the castle, where hestood at bay upon the threshold. Many Spaniards, one after another, asthey attempted to kill or to secure him, fell before his sword, which hewielded with the strength of a giant. At last, overpowered by numbers, and weakened by the loss of blood, he retreated slowly into the hall, followed by many of his antagonists. Here, by an unexpected movement, he applied a match to a train of powder, which he had previously laidalong the floor of the apartment. The explosion was instantaneous. Thetower, where the contest was taking place, sprang into the air, and DeRuyter with his enemies shared a common doom. A part of the mangledremains of this heroic but ferocious patriot were afterwards dug from theruins of the tower, and with impotent malice nailed upon the gallows atBois le Duc. Of his surviving companions, some were beheaded, some werebroken on the wheel, some were hung and quartered--all were executed. 

ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

Constitutional governments, move in the daylightConsumer would pay the tax, supposing it were ever paid at allFinancial opposition to tyranny is apt to be unanimousGreat battles often leave the world where they found itGreat transactions of a reign are sometimes paltry thingsThe faithful servant is always a perpetual ass