His design of establishing this horrible tribunal, so impiously named “holy” by its founders, had been long suspected by the people of the Netherlands.  The expression of those fears had reached him more than once.  He as often replied by assurances that he had formed no such project, and particularly to Count d’Egmont during his recent visit to Madrid.  But at that very time he assembled a conclave of his creatures, doctors of theology, of whom he formally demanded an opinion as to whether he could conscientiously tolerate two sorts of religion in the Netherlands.  The doctors, hoping to please him, replied, that “he might, for the avoidance of a greater evil.”  Philip trembled with rage, and exclaimed, with a threatening tone, “I ask not if I can, but if I ought.”  The theologians read in this question the nature of the expected reply; and it was amply conformable to his wish.  He immediately threw himself on his knees before a crucifix, and raising his hands toward heaven, put up a prayer for strength in his resolution to pursue as deadly enemies all who viewed that effigy with feelings different from his own.  If this were not really a sacrilegious farce, it must be that the blaspheming bigot believed the Deity to be a monster of cruelty like himself.

Even Viglius was terrified by the nature of Philip’s commands; and the patriot lords once more withdrew from all share in the government, leaving to the duchess of Parma and her ministers the whole responsibility of the new measures.  They were at length put into actual and vigorous execution in the beginning of the year 1566.  The inquisitors of the faith, with their familiars, stalked abroad boldly in the devoted provinces, carrying persecution and death in their train.  Numerous but partial insurrections opposed these odious intruders.  Every district and town became the scene of frightful executions or tumultuous resistance.  The converts to the new doctrines multiplied, as usual, under the effects of persecution.  “There was nowhere to be seen,” says a contemporary author, “the meanest mechanic who did not find a weapon to strike down the murderers of his compatriots.”  Holland, Zealand and Utrecht alone escaped from those fast accumulating horrors.  William of Nassau was there.

CHAPTER VIII

COMMENCEMENT OF THE REVOLUTION

A.D. 1566

The stadtholderess and her ministers now began to tremble.  Philip’s favorite counsellors advised him to yield to the popular despair; but nothing could change his determination to pursue his bloody game to the last chance.  He had foreseen the impossibility of reducing the country to slavery as long as it maintained its tranquillity, and that union which forms in itself the elements and the cement of strength.  It was from deep calculation that he had excited the troubles, and now kept them alive.  He knew that the structure of illegal power could only be raised on the ruins of public rights and national happiness; and the materials of desolation found sympathy in his congenial mind.