The Rise of the Dutch Republic, 1566 part 2 | Page 3

another project would be matured
for settling the matter to universal satisfaction--such were the
propositions of the Crown. Nevertheless, Philip thought he had gone
too far, even in administering this meagre amount of mercy, and that he
had been too frank in employing so slender a deception, as in the
scheme thus sketched. He therefore summoned a notary, before whom,
in presence of the Duke of Alva, the Licentiate Menchaca and Dr.
Velasco, he declared that, although he had just authorized Margaret of
Parma, by force of circumstances, to grant pardon to all those who had
been compromised in the late disturbances of the Netherlands, yet as he
had not done this spontaneously nor freely, he did not consider himself
bound by the authorization, but that, on the contrary, he reserved his
right to punish all the guilty, and particularly those who had been the
authors and encouragers of the sedition.
So much for the pardon promised in his official correspondence.
With regard to the concessions, which he supposed himself to have
made in the matter of the inquisition and the edicts, he saved his
conscience by another process. Revoking with his right hand all which
his left had been doing, he had no sooner despatched his letters to the
Duchess Regent than he sent off another to his envoy at Rome. In this
despatch he instructed Requesens to inform the Pope as to the recent
royal decisions upon the three points, and to state that there had not
been time to consult his Holiness beforehand. Nevertheless, continued
Philip "the prudent," it was perhaps better thus, since the abolition
could have no force, unless the Pope, by whom the institution had been
established, consented to its suspension. This matter, however, was to
be kept a profound secret. So much for the inquisition matter. The
papal institution, notwithstanding the official letters, was to exist,
unless the Pope chose to destroy it; and his Holiness, as we have seen,
had sent the Archbishop of Sorrento, a few weeks before, to Brussels,
for the purpose of concerting secret measures for strengthening the
"Holy Office" in the provinces.
With regard to the proposed moderation of the edicts, Philip informed
Pius the Fifth, through Requesens, that the project sent by the Duchess
not having been approved, orders had been transmitted for a new draft,
in which all the articles providing for the severe punishment of heretics

were to be retained, while alterations, to be agreed upon by the state
and privy councils, and the knights of the Fleece, were to be adopted--
certainly in no sense of clemency. On the contrary, the King assured his
Holiness, that if the severity of chastisement should be mitigated the
least in the world by the new articles, they would in no case receive the
royal approbation. Philip further implored the Pope "not to be
scandalized" with regard to the proposed pardon, as it would be by no
means extended to offenders against religion. All this was to be kept
entirely secret. The King added, that rather than permit the least
prejudice to the ancient religion, he would sacrifice all his states, and
lose a hundred lives if he had so many; for he would never consent to
be the sovereign of heretics. He said he would arrange the troubles of
the Netherlands, without violence, if possible, because forcible
measures would cause the entire destruction of the country.
Nevertheless they should be employed, if his purpose could be
accomplished in no other way. In that case the King would himself be
the executor of his own design, without allowing the peril which he
should incur, nor the ruin of the provinces, nor that of his other realms,
to prevent him from doing all which a Christian prince was bound to do,
to maintain the Catholic religion and the authority of the Holy See, as
well as to testify his personal regard for the reigning pontiff, whom he
so much loved and esteemed.
Here was plain speaking. Here were all the coming horrors distinctly
foreshadowed. Here was the truth told to the only being with whom
Philip ever was sincere. Yet even on this occasion, he permitted
himself a falsehood by which his Holiness was not deceived. Philip had
no intention of going to the Netherlands in person, and the Pope knew
that he had none. "I feel it in my bones," said Granvelle, mournfully,
"that nobody in Rome believes in his Majesty's journey to the
provinces." From that time forward, however, the King began to
promise this visit, which was held out as a panacea for every ill, and
made to serve as an excuse for constant delay.
It may well be supposed that if Philip's secret policy had been
thoroughly understood in the Netherlands, the outbreak would have
come