The Rise of the Dutch Republic, 1560-61 | Page 5

Spanish infantry leave us; but go they must. Would
to God that we could devise any pretext, as your Majesty desires, under
which to keep them here! We have tried all means humanly possible for
retaining them, but I see no way to do it without putting the provinces
in manifest danger of sudden revolt."
Fortunately for the dignity of the government, or for the repose of the

country, a respectable motive was found for employing the legion
elsewhere. The important loss which Spain had recently met with in the
capture of Zerby made a reinforcement necessary in the army engaged
in the Southern service. Thus, the disaster in Barbary at last relieved the
Netherlands of the pest which had afflicted them so long. For a brief
breathing space the country was cleared of foreign mercenaries.
The growing unpopularity of the royal government, still typified,
however, in the increasing hatred entertained for the Bishop, was not
materially diminished by the departure of the Spaniards. The edicts and
the bishoprics were still there, even if the soldiers were gone. The
churchman worked faithfully to accomplish his master's business.
Philip, on his side, was industrious to bring about the consummation of
his measures. Ever occupied with details, the monarch, from his palace
in Spain, sent frequent informations against the humblest individuals in
the Netherlands. It is curious to observe the minute reticulations of
tyranny which he had begun already to spin about a whole, people,
while cold, venomous, and patient he watched his victims from the
centre of his web. He forwarded particular details to the Duchess and
Cardinal concerning a variety of men and women, sending their names,
ages, personal appearance, occupations, and residence, together with
directions for their immediate immolation. Even the inquisitors of
Seville were set to work to increase, by means of their branches or
agencies in the provinces, the royal information on this all-important
subject. "There are but few of us left in the world," he moralized in a
letter to the Bishop, "who care for religion. 'Tis necessary, therefore,
for us to take the greater heed for Christianity. We must lose our all, if
need be, in order to do our duty; in fine," added he, with his usual
tautology, "it is right that a man should do his duty."
Granvelle--as he must now be called, for his elevation to the
cardinalship will be immediately alluded to--wrote to assure the King
that every pains would be taken to ferret out and execute the
individuals complained of. He bewailed, however, the want of
heartiness on the part of the Netherland inquisitors and judges. "I find,"
said he, "that all judicial officers go into the matter of executing the
edicts with reluctance, which I believe is caused by their fear of
displeasing the populace. When they do act they do it but languidly,
and when these matters are not taken in hand with the necessary

liveliness, the fruit desired is not gathered. We do not fail to exhort and
to command them to do their work." He added that Viglius and
Berlaymont displayed laudable zeal, but that he could not say as much
for the Council of Brabant. Those councillors "were forever prating,"
said he, "of the constitutional rights of their province, and deserved
much less commendation."
The popularity of the churchman, not increased by these desperate
exertions to force an inhuman policy upon an unfortunate nation,
received likewise no addition from his new elevation in rank. During
the latter part of the year 1560, Margaret of Parma, who still
entertained a profound admiration of the prelate, and had not yet begun
to chafe under his smooth but imperious dominion, had been busy in
preparing for him a delightful surprise. Without either his knowledge or
that of the King, she had corresponded with the Pope, and succeeded in
obtaining, as a personal favor to herself, the Cardinal's hat for Anthony
Perrenot. In February, 1561, Cardinal Borromeo wrote to announce that
the coveted dignity had been bestowed. The Duchess hastened, with
joyous alacrity, to communicate the intelligence to the Bishop, but was
extremely hurt to find that he steadily refused to assume his new
dignity, until he had written to the King to announce the appointment,
and to ask his permission to accept the honor. The Duchess, justly
wounded at his refusal to accept from her hands the favor which she,
and she only, had obtained for him, endeavored in vain to overcome his
pertinacity. She represented that although Philip was not aware of the
application or the appointment, he was certain to regard it as an
agreeable surprise. She urged, moreover, that his temporary refusal
would be misconstrued at Rome, where it would certainly excite
ridicule, and very possibly give offence in the highest quarter. The
Bishop was inexorable. He