The Rise of the Dutch Republic, 1578 part 1 | Page 9

later, and possibly more candid times. It
would have been puerile for a man of William the Silent's resources, to
allow himself to be outwitted by the intrigues of all the courts and
cabinets in Europe. Moreover, it must be remembered that, if he alone
could guide himself and his country through the perplexing labyrinth in

which they were involved; it was because he held in his hand the clue
of an honest purpose. His position in regard to the Duke of Alencon,
had now become sufficiently complicated, for the tiger that he had led
in a chain had been secretly unloosed by those who meant mischief. In
the autumn of the previous year, the aristocratic and Catholic party in
the states-general had opened their communications with a prince, by
whom they hoped to be indemnified for their previous defeat.
The ill effects of Elizabeth's coquetry too plainly manifested
themselves at last, and Alencon had now a foothold in the Netherlands.
Precipitated by the intrigues of the party which had always been either
openly or secretly hostile to Orange, his advent could no longer be
delayed. It only remained for the Prince to make himself his master, as
he had already subdued each previous rival. This he accomplished with
his customary adroitness. It was soon obvious, even to so dull and so
base a nature as that of the Duke, that it was his best policy to continue
to cultivate so powerful a friendship. It cost him little to crouch, but
events were fatally, to prove at a later day, that there are natures too
malignant to be trusted or to be tamed. For the present, however,
Alencon professed the most friendly sentiments towards the Prince.
Solicited by so ardent and considerable a faction, the Duke was no
longer to be withheld from trying the venture, and if, he could not
effect his entrance by fair means, was determined to do so by
force.--He would obtrude his assistance, if it were declined. He would
do his best to dismember the provinces, if only a portion of them would
accept his proffered friendship. Under these circumstances, as the
Prince could no longer exclude him from the country, it became
necessary to accept his friendship, and to hold him in control. The
Duke had formally offered his assistance to the states-general, directly
after the defeat of Gemblours, and early in July had made his
appearance in Mons. Hence he despatched his envoys, Des Pruneaux
and Rochefort, to deal with the States-general and with Orange, while
he treated Matthias with contempt, and declared that he had no
intention to negotiate with him. The Archduke burst into tears when
informed of this slight; and feebly expressed a wish that succor might
be found in Germany which would render this French alliance
unnecessary. It was not the first nor the last mortification which the
future Emperor was to undergo. The Prince was addressed with

distinguished consideration; Des Pruneaux protesting that he desired
but three things--the glory of his master, the glory of God, and the
glory of William of Orange.
The French King was naturally supposed to be privy to his brother's
schemes, for it was thought ridiculous to suggest that Henry's own
troops could be led by his own brother, on this foreign expedition,
without his connivance. At the same time, private letters, written by
him at this epoch, expressed disapprobation of the schemes of Alencon,
and jealousy of his aggrandizement. It was, perhaps, difficult to decide
as to the precise views of a monarch who was too weak to form
opinions for himself, and too false to maintain those with which he had
been furnished by others. With the Medicean mother it was different,
and it was she who was believed to be at the bottom of the intrigue.
There was even a vague idea that the Spanish Sovereign himself might
be privy to the plot, and that a possible marriage between Alencon and
the Infanta might be on the cards. In truth, however, Philip felt himself
outraged by the whole proceedings. He resolutely refused to accept the
excuses proffered by the French court, or to doubt the complicity of the
Queen Dowager, who, it was well known, governed all her sons. She
had, to be sure, thought proper to read the envoys of the states-general a
lecture upon the impropriety of subjects opposing the commands of
their lawful Prince, but such artifices were thought too transparent to
deceive. Granvelle scouted the idea of her being ignorant of Anjou's
scheme, or opposed to its success. As for William of Hesse, while he
bewailed more than ever the luckless plunge into "confusum chaos"
which Casimir had taken, he unhesitatingly expressed his conviction
that the invasion of Alencon was a master-piece of Catherine. The
whole responsibility of