The great object of immediate good was the removal of Cardinal Granvelle.  William boldly put himself at the head of the confederacy.  He wrote to the king, conjointly with Counts Egmont and Horn, faithfully portraying the state of affairs.  The duchess of Parma backed this remonstrance with a strenuous request for Granvelle’s dismission.  Philip’s reply to the three noblemen was a mere tissue of duplicity to obtain delay, accompanied by an invitation to Count Egmont to repair to Madrid, to hear his sentiments at large by word of mouth.  His only answer to the stadtholderess was a positive recommendation to use every possible means to disunite and breed ill-will among the three confederate lords.  It was difficult to deprive William of the confidence of his friends, and impossible to deceive him.  He saw the trap prepared by the royal intrigues, restrained Egmont for a while from the fatal step he was but too well inclined to take, and persuaded him and Horn to renew with him their firm but respectful representations; at the same time begging permission to resign their various employments, and simultaneously ceasing to appear at the court of the stadtholderess.

In the meantime every possible indignity was offered to the cardinal by private pique and public satire.  Several lords, following Count Egmont’s example, had a kind of capuchon or fool’s-cap embroidered on the liveries of their varlets; and it was generally known that this was meant as a practical parody on the cardinal’s hat.  The crowd laughed heartily at this stupid pleasantry; and the coarse satire of the times may be judged by a caricature, which was forwarded to the cardinal’s own hands, representing him in the act of hatching a nest full of eggs, from which a crowd of bishops escaped, while overhead was the devil inpropria_ persona, with the following scroll:  “This is my well-beloved son—­listen to him!”

Philip, thus driven before the popular voice, found himself forced to the choice of throwing off the mask at once, or of sacrificing Granvelle.  An invincible inclination for manoeuvring and deceit decided him on the latter measure; and the cardinal, recalled but not disgraced, quitted the Netherlands on the 10th of March, 1564.  The secret instructions to the stadtholderess remained unrevoked; the president Viglius succeeded to the post which Granvelle had occupied; and it was clear that the projects of the king had suffered no change.

Nevertheless some good resulted from the departure of the unpopular minister.  The public fermentation subsided; the patriot lords reappeared at court; and the Prince of Orange acquired an increasing influence in the council and over the stadtholderess, who by his advice adopted a conciliatory line of conduct—­a fallacious but still a temporary hope for the nation.  But the calm was of short duration.  Scarcely was this moderation evinced by the government, when Philip, obstinate in his designs, and outrageous in his resentment, sent an order to have the edicts against heresy put into most rigorous execution, and to proclaim throughout the seventeen provinces the furious decree of the Council of Trent.