Part 733

"While the Privy Council was endeavouring to obtain a 'Moderation' of the Edicts, and … effected that the heretics should be no longer burnt but hung, and that the Inquisition should proceed 'prudently, and with circumspection,' a movement broke out among the people which mocked at all Edicts. The open country was suddenly covered with thousands of armed noblemen, citizens, and peasants, who assembled in large crowds in the open air to listen to some heretical preacher, Lutheran, Calvinist, or even an Anabaptist, and to hold forbidden services, with prayers and hymns, in the mother tongue. They sallied forth with pistols, arquebuses, flails, and pitchforks; the place of meeting was marked out like a camp, and surrounded by guards; from 10,000 to 20,000 assembled, the armed men outside, the women and children within. {2260} After the immense choir had sung a psalm, one of the excommunicated preachers appeared between two pikes (according to the 'Moderation' a price was set upon the head of everyone of them), and expounded the new doctrine from the Scriptures; the assembly listened in devout silence, and when the service was ended separated quietly, but defiantly. This was repeated day after day throughout the country, and nobody dared to attack the armed field preachers. The Regent was in a painful situation; she was always having it proclaimed that the Edicts were in force, but nobody cared. … It was all in vain unless foreign troops came to enforce obedience, and these she had neither power nor funds to procure. The King hesitated in his usual fashion, and left the Regent to the torments of powerlessness and uncertainty. Meanwhile the universal excitement bore fatal fruit. Instead of the dignified preachings and peaceful assemblies of May, in June and July there were wild excesses and furious mobs. Orange had just persuaded the Regent to permit the field preaching in the open country, if they avoided the towns, when the first great outbreak occurred in Antwerp. Two days after a great procession, on the 18th of August, 1566, at which the Catholic clergy of Antwerp had made a pompous display to the annoyance of the numerous Protestants, the beautiful cathedral was invaded by a furious mob, who destroyed without mercy all the images, pictures, and objects of art that it contained. This demolition of images, the stripping of churches, desecration of chapels, and destruction of all symbols of the ancient faith, spread from Antwerp to other places, Tournay, Valenciennes, &c. It was done with a certain moderation, for neither personal violence nor theft took place anywhere, though innumerable costly articles were lying about. Still, these fanatical scenes not only excited the ire of Catholics, but of every religious man; in Antwerp, especially, the seafaring mob had rushed upon everything that had been held sacred for centuries. In her distress the Regent wished to flee from Brussels, but Orange, Egmont, and Horn compelled her to remain, and induced her to proclaim the Act of the 25th of August, by which an armistice was decided on between Spain and the Beggars. In this the Government conceded the abolition of the Inquisition and the toleration of the new doctrines, and the Beggars declared that for so long as this promise was kept their league was dissolved. In consideration of this, the first men in the country agreed to quell the disturbances in Flanders, Antwerp, Tournay; and Malines, and to restore peace. Orange effected this in Antwerp like a true statesman, who knew how to keep himself above party spirit; but in Flanders, Egmont, on the contrary, went to work like a brutal soldier; he stormed against the heretics like Philip's Spanish executioners, and the scales fell from the eyes of the bitterly disappointed people. Meanwhile a decision had been come to at Madrid. … When at length the irresolute King had determined to proclaim an amnesty, though it was really rather a proscription, and to promise indulgence, while he was assuring the Pope by protocol before notaries that he never would grant any, the news came of the image riots of August, and a report from the Duchess in which she humbly begged the King's pardon for having allowed a kind of religious peace to be extorted from her, but she was entirely innocent; they had forced it from her as a prisoner in her palace, and there was one comfort, that the King was not bound by a promise made only in her name. Philip's rage was boundless. … He was resolved upon fearful revenge, even when he was writing that he should know how to restore order in his provinces by means of grace and mercy. … Well-informed as Orange was, he understood the whole situation perfectly; he knew that while the Regent was heaping flattery upon him, she and Philip were compassing his destruction; that her only object could be to keep the peace until the Spanish preparations were complete, and meanwhile, if possible, to compromise him with the people. He wrote to Egmont, and laid the dangers of their situation before him, and communicated his resolve either to escape Philip's revenge by flight, or to join with his friends in armed resistance to the expected attack of the Spanish army. But Egmont in his unhappy blindness had resolved to side with the Government which was more than ever determined on his destruction, and the meeting at Dendermonde, October, 1566, when Orange consulted him, Louis of Nassau, and Hogstraaten, as to u plan of united action, was entirely fruitless. … Admiral Horn, who had staked large property in the service of the Emperor and King, and had never received the least return in answer to his just demands, gave up his office, and, like a weary philosopher, retired into solitude. Left entirely alone, Orange thought of emigrating; in short, the upper circle of the previous party of opposition no longer existed. But it was not so with the mad leaders of the Beggars. While the zealous inhabitants of Valenciennes, incited by two of the most dauntless Calvinistic preachers, undertook to defend themselves against the royal troops with desperate bravery, Count Brederode went about the country with a clang of sabres, exciting disturbances in order to give the heretics at Valenciennes breathing-time by a happy diversion. … All that Philip wanted to enable him to gain the day was an unsuccessful attempt at revolt. The attack upon images and the Beggars' volunteer march did more for the Government than all Granvella's system; … drove every one who favoured the Catholics and loved peace into the arms of the Government., The reaction set in with the sanguinary defeat of the rebels at Valenciennes, who never again even made an attempt at resistance. Orange gave up the liberties of his country for lost. … Stating that he could never take the new oath of fealty which was required, because it would oblige him to become the executioner of his Protestant countrymen, he renounced his offices and dignities, … made a last attempt to save his friend Egmont, … and retired to Dillenburg, the ancient property of the family. He wished to be spared for better times; he saw the storm coming, and was too cool-headed to offer himself as the first sacrifice. In fact, just when he was travelling towards Germany, Duke Alba [more commonly called Alva], the hangman of the Netherlands, was on his way to his destination." Alva arrived in August, 1567, with an army of 10,000 carefully picked veterans, fully empowered to make the Netherlands a conquered territory and deal with it as such. His first important act was the treacherous seizure and imprisonment of Egmont and Horn. Then the organization of terror began. The imprisonment and the mockery of a trial of the two most distinguished victims was protracted until the 5th of June, 1568, when they were beheaded in the great square at Brussels.

_L. Häusser, The Period of the Reformation, chapters 22-23._

ALSO IN: _J. L. Motley, The Rise of the Dutch Republic, part 2, chapters 6-10, and part 3, chapters 1-2._

_F. Schiller, History of the Revolt of the Netherlands, books 3-4._

{2261}

NETHERLANDS: A. D. 1567. The Council of Blood.

"In the same despatch of the 9th September [1567], in which the Duke communicated to Philip the capture of Egmont and Horn, he announced to him his determination to establish a new court for the trial of crimes committed during the recent period of troubles. This wonderful tribunal was accordingly created with the least possible delay. It was called the Council of Troubles, but it soon acquired the terrible name, by which it will be forever known in history, of the Blood-Council. It superseded all other institutions. Every court, from those of the municipal magistracies up to the supreme councils of the provinces, were forbidden to take cognisance in future of any cause growing out of the late troubles. The Council of State, although it was not formally disbanded, fell into complete desuetude, its members being occasionally summoned into Alva's private chambers in an irregular manner, while its principal functions were usurped by the Blood-Council. Not only citizens of every province, but the municipal bodies, and even the sovereign provincial Estates themselves, were compelled to plead, like humble individuals, before this new and extraordinary tribunal. It is unnecessary to allude to the absolute violation which was thus committed of all charters, laws, and privileges, because the very creation of the Council was a bold and brutal proclamation that those laws and privileges were at an end. … So well … did this new and terrible engine perform its work, that in less than three months from the time of its erection, 1,800 human beings had suffered death by its summary proceedings; some of the highest, the noblest, and the most virtuous in the land among the number; nor had it then manifested the slightest indication of faltering in its dread career. Yet, strange to say, this tremendous court, thus established upon the ruins of all the ancient institutions of the country, had not been provided with even a nominal authority from any source whatever. The King had granted it no letters patent or charter, nor had even the Duke of Alva thought it worth while to grant any commissions, either in his own name or as Captain-General, to any of the members composing the board. The Blood-Council was merely an informal club, of which the Duke was perpetual president, while the other members were all appointed by himself. Of these subordinate councillors, two had the right of voting, subject, however, in all cases, to his final decision, while the rest of the number did not vote at all. It had not, therefore, in any sense, the character of a judicial, legislative, or executive tribunal, but was purely a board of advice by which the bloody labours of the Duke were occasionally lightened as to detail, while not a feather's weight of power or of responsibility was removed from his shoulders. He reserved for himself the final decision upon all causes which should come before the Council, and stated his motives for so doing with grim simplicity. 'Two reasons,' he wrote to the King, 'have determined me thus to limit the power of the tribunal; the first that, not knowing its members, I might be easily deceived by them; the second, that the men of law only condemn for crimes which are proved; whereas your Majesty knows that affairs of state are governed by very different rules from the laws which they have here.' It being, therefore, the object of the Duke to compose a body of men who would be of assistance to him in condemning for crimes which could not be proved, and in slipping over statutes which were not to be recognised, it must be confessed that he was not unfortunate in the appointments which he made to the office of councillors. … No one who was offered the office refused it. Noircarmes and Berlaymont accepted with very great eagerness. Several presidents and councillors of the different provincial tribunals were appointed, but all the Netherlanders were men of straw. Two Spaniards, Del Rio and Vargas, were the only members who could vote, while their decisions, as already stated, were subject to reversal by Alva. Del Rio was a man without character or talent, a mere tool in the hands of his superiors, but Juan de Vargas was a terrible reality. No better man could have been found in Europe, for the post to which he was thus elevated. To shed human blood was, in his opinion, the only important business and the only exhilarating pastime of life. … It was the duty of the different subalterns, who, as already stated, had no right of voting, to prepare reports upon the cases. Nothing could be more summary. Information was lodged against a man, or against a hundred men, in one document. The Duke sent the papers to the Council, and the inferior councillors reported at once to Vargas. If the report concluded with a recommendation of death to the man or the hundred men in question, Vargas instantly approved it, and execution was done upon the man, or the hundred men, within 48 hours. If the report had any other conclusion, it was immediately sent back for revision, and the reporters were overwhelmed with reproaches by the President. Such being the method of operation, it may be supposed that the councillors were not allowed to slacken in their terrible industry. The register of every city, village, and hamlet throughout the Netherlands showed the daily lists of men, women, and children thus sacrificed at the shrine of the demon who had obtained the mastery over this unhappy land. It was not often that an individual was of sufficient importance to be tried—if trial it could be called—by himself. It was found more expeditious to send them in batches to the furnace. Thus, for example, on the 4th of January, 84 inhabitants of Valenciennes were condemned; on another day, 95 miscellaneous individuals from different places in Flanders; on another, 46 inhabitants of Malines; on another, 35 persons from different localities, and so on. … Thus the whole country became a charnel-house; the death-bell tolled hourly in every village; not a family but was called to mourn for its dearest relatives, while the survivors stalked listlessly about, the ghosts of their former selves, among the wrecks of their former homes. The spirit of the nation, within a few months after the arrival of Alva, seemed hopelessly broken. The blood of its best and bravest had already stained the scaffold; men to whom it had been accustomed to look for guidance and protection, were dead, in prison, or in exile. Submission had ceased to be of any avail, flight was impossible, and the spirit of vengeance had alighted at every fireside. {2262} The mourners went daily about the streets, for there was hardly a house which had not been made desolate. The scaffolds, the gallows, the funeral piles which had been sufficient in ordinary times, furnished now an entirely inadequate machinery for the incessant executions. Columns and stakes in every street, the door-posts of private houses, the fences in the fields, were laden with human carcases, strangled, burned, beheaded. The orchards in the country bore on many a tree the hideous fruit of human bodies. Thus the Netherlands were crushed, and, but for the stringency of the tyranny which had now closed their gates, would have been depopulated."

_J. L. Motley, The Rise of the Dutch Republic, part 3, chapter 1 (volume 2)._

NETHERLANDS: A. D. 1568. Stupendous death-sentence of the Inquisition. The whole population condemned.

"Early in the year, the most sublime sentence of death was promulgated which has ever been pronounced since the creation of the world. The Roman tyrant wished that his enemies' heads were all upon a single neck, that he might strike them off at a blow; the Inquisition assisted Philip to place the heads of all his Netherland subjects upon a single neck, for the same fell purpose. Upon the 16th February, 1568, a sentence of the Holy Office condemned all the inhabitants of the Netherlands to death as heretics. From this universal doom only a few persons, especially named, were excepted. A proclamation of the King, dated ten days later, confirmed this decree of the Inquisition, and ordered it to be carried into instant execution without regard to age, sex, or condition. This is probably the most concise death-warrant that was ever framed. Three millions of people, men, women, and children, were sentenced to the scaffold in three lines; and as it was well known that these were not harmless thunders, like some bulls of the Vatican, but serious and practical measures which it was intended should be enforced, the horror which they produced may be easily imagined. It was hardly the purpose of Government to compel the absolute completion of the wholesale plan in all its length and breadth, yet in the horrible times upon which they had fallen, the Netherlanders might be excused for believing that no measure was too monstrous to be fulfilled. At any rate, it was certain that when all were condemned, any might at a moment's warning be carried to the scaffold, and this was precisely the course adopted by the authorities. … Under this new decree, the executions certainly did not slacken. Men in the highest and the humblest positions were daily and hourly dragged to the stake. Alva, in a single letter to Philip, coolly estimated the number of executions which were to take place immediately after the expiration of Holy Week, 'at 800 heads.' Many a citizen, convicted of a hundred thousand florins, and of no other crime, saw himself suddenly tied to a horse's tail, with his hands fastened behind him, and so dragged to the gallows. But although wealth was an unpardonable sin, poverty proved rarely a protection. Reasons sufficient could always be found for dooming the starveling laborer as well as the opulent burgher. To avoid the disturbances created in the streets by the frequent harangues or exhortations addressed to the bystanders by the victims on their way to the scaffold, a new gag was invented. The tongue of each prisoner was screwed into an iron ring, and then seared with a hot iron. The swelling and inflammation, which were the immediate result, prevented the tongue from slipping through the ring, and of course effectually precluded all possibility of speech."

_J. L. Motley, The Rise of the Dutch Republic, part 3, chapter 2 (volume 2)._

NETHERLANDS: A. D. 1568-1572. The arming of Revolt and beginning of War by the Prince of Orange. Alva's successes, brutalities, and senseless taxation. Quarrels with England and destruction of Flemish trade.