The Rise of the Dutch Republic, 1566 part 1 | Page 5

neighbors,
were naturally inclined to novelty. Moreover, when by reason of the
daily increasing prices of grain a famine was impending over the land,
no worse moment could be chosen to enforce such a policy. In
conclusion, he observed that he was at all times desirous to obey the

commands of his Majesty and her Highness, and to discharge the duties
of "a good Christian." The use of the latter term is remarkable, as
marking an epoch in the history of the Prince's mind. A year before he
would have said a good Catholic, but it was during this year that his
mind began to be thoroughly pervaded by religious doubt, and that the
great question of the Reformation forced itself, not only as a political,
but as a moral problem upon him, which he felt that he could not much
longer neglect instead of solving.
Such were the opinions of Orange. He could not, however, safely
entrust the sacred interests of a commonwealth to such hands as those
of Brederode--however deeply that enthusiastic personage might drink
the health of "Younker William," as he affectionately denominated the
Prince--or to "Golden Fleece," or to Charles Mansfeld, or to that
younger wild boar of Ardennes, Robert de la Marck. In his brother and
in Sainte Aldegonde he had confidence, but he did not exercise over
them that control which he afterwards acquired. His conduct towards
the confederacy was imitated in the main by the other great nobles. The
covenanters never expected to obtain the signatures of such men as
Orange, Egmont, Horn, Meghen, Berghen, or Montigny, nor were those
eminent personages ever accused of having signed the Compromise,
although some of them were afterwards charged with having protected
those who did affix their names to the document. The confederates
were originally found among the lesser nobles. Of these some were
sincere Catholics, who loved the ancient Church but hated the
inquisition; some were fierce Calvinists or determined Lutherans; some
were troublous and adventurous spirits, men of broken fortunes,
extravagant habits, and boundless desires, who no doubt thought that
the broad lands of the Church, with their stately abbeys; would furnish
much more fitting homes and revenues for gallant gentlemen than for
lazy monks. All were young, few had any prudence or conduct, and the
history of the league more than justified the disapprobation of Orange.
The nobles thus banded together, achieved little by their confederacy.
They disgraced a great cause by their orgies, almost ruined it by their
inefficiency, and when the rope of sand which they had twisted fell
asunder, the people had gained nothing and the gentry had almost lost
the confidence of the nation. These remarks apply to the mass of the
confederates and to some of the leaders. Louis of Nassau and Sainte

Aldegonde were ever honored and trusted as they deserved.
Although the language of the Compromise spoke of the leaguers as
nobles, yet the document was circulated among burghers and merchants
also, many of whom, according to the satirical remark of a Netherland
Catholic, may, have been influenced by the desire of writing their
names in such aristocratic company, and some of whom were destined
to expiate such vainglory upon the scaffold.
With such associates, therefore, the profound and anxious mind of
Orange could have little in common. Confidence expanding as the
numbers increased, their audacity and turbulence grew with the growth
of the league. The language at their wild banquets was as hot as the
wine which confused their heads; yet the Prince knew that there was
rarely a festival in which there did not sit some calm, temperate
Spaniard, watching with quiet eye and cool brain the extravagant
demeanor, and listening with composure to the dangerous avowals or
bravados of these revellers, with the purpose of transmitting a record of
their language or demonstrations, to the inmost sanctuary of Philip's
cabinet at Madrid. The Prince knew, too, that the King was very sincere
in his determination to maintain the inquisition, however dilatory his
proceedings might appear. He was well aware that an armed force
might be expected ere long to support the royal edicts. Already the
Prince had organized that system of espionage upon Philip, by which
the champion of his country was so long able to circumvent its despot.
The King left letters carefully locked in his desk at night, and unseen
hands had forwarded copies of them to William of Orange before the
morning. He left memoranda in his pockets on retiring to bed, and
exact transcripts of those papers found their way, likewise, ere he rose,
to the same watchman in the Netherlands. No doubt that an inclination
for political intrigue was a prominent characteristic of the Prince, and a
blemish upon the purity of his moral nature. Yet the dissimulating
policy of