The Rise of the Dutch Republic, 1564-65 | Page 7

de
Vargas, "and to think it capable of error, is the most devilish heresy of
all." Nothing could so much disturb and scandalize the world as such a
sentiment. Therefore the Archbishop of Granada told, very properly,
the Bishop of Tortosa, that if he should express such an opinion in
Spain, they would burn him. These strenuous notions were shared by
the King. Therefore, although all Europe was on tip-toe with
expectation to see how Philip would avenge himself for the slight put
upon his ambassador, Philip disappointed all Europe.
In August, 1564, he wrote to the Duchess Regent, that the decrees were
to be proclaimed and enforced without delay. They related to three
subjects, the doctrines to be inculcated by the Church, the reformation
of ecclesiastical moral, and the education of the people. General police
regulations were issued at the same time, by which heretics were to be

excluded from all share in the usual conveniences of society, and were
in fact to be strictly excommunicated. Inns were to receive no guests,
schools no children, alms-houses no paupers, grave-yards no dead
bodies, unless guests, children, paupers, and dead bodies were
furnished with the most satisfactory proofs of orthodoxy. Midwives of
unsuspected Romanism were alone to exercise their functions, and
were bound to give notice within twenty-four hours of every birth
which occurred; the parish clerks were as regularly to record every such
addition to the population, and the authorities to see that Catholic
baptism was administered in each case with the least possible delay.
Births, deaths, and marriages could only occur with validity under the
shadow of the Church. No human being could consider himself born or
defunct unless provided with a priest's certificate. The heretic was
excluded, so far as ecclesiastical dogma could exclude him, from the
pale of humanity, from consecrated earth, and from eternal salvation.
The decrees contained many provisions which not only conflicted with
the privileges of the provinces, but with the prerogatives of the
sovereign. For this reason many of the lords in council thought that at
least the proper exceptions should be made upon their promulgation.
This was also the opinion of the Duchess, but the King, by his letters of
October, and November (1564), expressly prohibited any alteration in
the ordinances, and transmitted a copy of the form according to which
the canons had been published in Spain, together with the expression of
his desire that a similar course should be followed in the Netherlands.
Margaret of Parma was in great embarrassment. It was evident that the
publication could no longer be deferred. Philip had issued his
commands, but grave senators and learned doctors of the university had
advised strongly in favor of the necessary exceptions. The extreme
party, headed by Viglius, were in favor of carrying out the royal
decisions. They were overruled, and the Duchess was induced to
attempt a modification, if her brother's permission could be obtained.
The President expressed the opinion that the decrees, even with the
restrictions proposed, would "give no contentment to the people, who,
moreover, had no right to meddle with theology." The excellent Viglius
forgot, however, that theology had been meddling altogether too much
with the people to make it possible that the public attention should be
entirely averted from the subject. Men and women who might be daily

summoned to rack, stake, and scaffold, in the course of these
ecclesiastical arrangements, and whose births, deaths, marriages, and
position in the next world, were now to be formally decided upon,
could hardly be taxed with extreme indiscretion, if they did meddle
with the subject.
In the dilemma to which the Duchess was reduced, she again bethought
herself of a special mission to Spain. At the end of the year (1564), it
was determined that Egmont should be the envoy. Montigny excused
himself on account of private affairs; Marquis Berghen "because of his
indisposition and corpulence." There was a stormy debate in council
after Egmont had accepted the mission and immediately before his
departure. Viglius had been ordered to prepare the Count's instructions.
Having finished the rough draught, he laid it before the board. The
paper was conceived in general terms and might mean any thing or
nothing. No criticism upon its language was, however, offered until it
came to the turn of Orange to vote upon the document. Then, however,
William the Silent opened his lips, and poured forth a long and
vehement discourse, such as he rarely pronounced, but such as few
except himself could utter. There was no shuffling, no disguise, no
timidity in his language. He took the ground boldly that the time had
arrived for speaking out. The object of sending an envoy of high rank
and European reputation like the Count of Egmont, was to tell the King
the truth. Let