The Rise of the Dutch Republic, 1569-70 | Page 8

offered him four
millions yearly for the tenth penny, but he had refused, because he
estimated the product at a much higher figure. The hundredth penny
could not be rated lower than five millions. It was obvious, therefore,
that instead of remitting funds to the provinces, his Majesty would, for
the future, derive from them a steady and enormous income. Moreover,
he assured the King that there was at present no one to inspire anxiety
from within or without. The only great noble of note in the country was
the Duke of Aerschot, who was devoted to his Majesty, and who,
moreover, "amounted to very little," as the King well knew. As for the
Prince of Orange, he would have business enough in keeping out of the
clutches of his creditors. They had nothing to fear from Germany.
England would do nothing as long as Germany was quiet; and France
was sunk too low to be feared at all.
Such being the sentiments of the Duke, the King was already
considering the propriety of appointing his successor. All this was
known to the President. He felt instinctively that more clemency was to
be expected from that successor, whoever he might be; and he was
satisfied, therefore, that he would at least not be injuring his own

position by inclining at this late hour to the side of mercy. His
opposition to the tenth and twentieth penny had already established a
breach between himself and the Viceroy, but he felt secretly comforted
by the reflection that the King was probably on the same side with
himself. Alva still spoke of him, to be sure, both in public and private,
with approbation; taking occasion to commend him frequently, in his
private letters, as a servant upright and zealous, as a living register,
without whose universal knowledge of things and persons he should
hardly know which way to turn. The President, however, was growing
weary of his own sycophancy. He begged his friend Joachim to take his
part, if his Excellency should write unfavorably about his conduct to
the King. He seemed to have changed his views of the man concerning
whose "prudence and gentleness" he could once turn so many fine
periods. He even expressed some anxiety lest doubts should begin to be
entertained as to the perfect clemency of the King's character. "Here is
so much confiscation and bloodshed going on," said he, "that some
taint of cruelty or avarice may chance to bespatter the robe of his
Majesty." He also confessed that he had occasionally read in history of
greater benignity than was now exercised against the poor
Netherlanders. Had the learned Frisian arrived at these humane
conclusions at a somewhat earlier day, it might perhaps have been
better for himself and for his fatherland. Had he served his country as
faithfully as he had served Time, and Philip, and Alva, his lands would
not have been so broad, nor his dignities so numerous, but he would not
have been obliged, in his old age; to exclaim, with whimsical petulance,
that "the faithful servant is always a perpetual ass."
It was now certain that an act of amnesty was in contemplation by the
King. Viglius had furnished several plans, which, however, had been so
much disfigured by the numerous exceptions suggested by Alva, that
the President could scarce recognize his work. Granvelle, too, had
frequently urged the pardon on the attention of Philip. The Cardinal
was too astute not to perceive that the time had arrived when a
continued severity could only defeat its own work. He felt that the
country could not be rendered more abject, the spirit of patriotism more
apparently extinct. A show of clemency, which would now cost nothing,
and would mean nothing, might be more effective than this profuse and
wanton bloodshed.

He saw plainly that the brutality of Alva had already overshot the mark.
Too politic, however, openly to reprove so powerful a functionary, he
continued to speak of him and of his administration to Philip in terms
of exalted eulogy. He was a "sage seignior," a prudent governor, one on
whom his Majesty could entirely repose. He was a man of long
experience, trained all his life to affairs, and perfectly capable of giving
a good account of everything to which he turned his hands. He
admitted, however, to other correspondents, that the administration of
the sage seignior, on whom his Majesty could so implicitly rely, had at
last "brought that provinces into a deplorable condition."
Four different forms of pardon had been sent from Madrid, toward the
close of 1569. From these four the Duke was to select one, and
carefully to destroy the other three. It was not, however, till July of the
following year that the choice was made, and the Viceroy