already, both in his own person and in that of the Duchess, begged for a formal denial, on the King’s part, that there was any intention of introducing the Spanish inquisition into the Netherlands, and that the Cardinal had counselled, originally, the bishoprics.  Thus instructed, the King accordingly wrote to Margaret of Parma to furnish the required contradictions.  In so doing, he made a pithy remark.  “The Cardinal had not counselled the cutting off the half a dozen heads,” said the monarch, “but perhaps it would not be so bad to do it!” Time was to show whether Philip was likely to profit by the hint conveyed in the Cardinal’s disclaimer, and whether the factor “half dozen” were to be used or not as a simple multiplier in the terrible account preparing.

The contradictions, however sincere, were not believed by the persons most interested.  Nearly all the nobles continued to regard the Cardinal with suspicion and aversion.  Many of the ruder and more reckless class vied with the rhetoricians and popular caricaturists in the practical jests which they played off almost daily against the common foe.  Especially Count Brederode, “a madman, if there ever were one,” as a contemporary expressed himself, was most untiring in his efforts to make Granvelle ridiculous.  He went almost nightly to masquerades, dressed as a cardinal or a monk; and as he was rarely known to be sober on these or any other occasions, the wildness of his demonstrations may easily be imagined.  He was seconded on all these occasions by his cousin Robert de la Marck, Seigneur de Lumey, a worthy descendant of the famous “Wild Boar of Ardennes;” a man brave to temerity, but utterly depraved, licentious, and sanguinary.  These two men, both to be widely notorious, from their prominence in many of the most striking scenes by which the great revolt was ushered in, had vowed the most determined animosity to the Cardinal, which was manifested in the reckless, buffooning way which belonged to their characters.  Besides the ecclesiastical costumes in which they always attired themselves at their frequent festivities, they also wore fog-tails in their hats instead of plumes.  They decked their servants also with the same ornaments; openly stating, that by these symbols they meant to signify that the old fox Granvelle, and his cubs, Viglius, Berlaymont, and the rest, should soon be hunted down by them, and the brush placed in their hats as a trophy.

Moreover, there is no doubt that frequent threats of personal violence were made against the Cardinal.  Granvelle informed the King that his life was continually menaced by, the nobles, but that he feared them little, “for he believed them too prudent to attempt any thing of the kind.”  There is no doubt, when his position with regard to the upper and lower classes in the country is considered, that there was enough to alarm a timid man; but Granvelle was constitutionally brave.  He was accused of wearing a secret shirt