Whatever the King commands I shall do, even were I
to march into the fire, whatever happens, and without
fear or respect for any person I mean to remain the
same man to the end—Durate;—and
I have a head that is hard enough when I do undertake
any thing—’nec animism despondeo’.”
Here, certainly, was significant foreshadowing of
the general wrath to come, and it was therefore of
less consequence that the portraits painted by him
of Berghen, Horn, Montigny, and others, were so rarely
relieved by the more flattering tints which he occasionally
mingled with the sombre coloring of his other pictures.
Especially with regard to Count Egmont, his conduct
was somewhat perplexing and, at first sight, almost
inscrutable. That nobleman had been most violent
in opposition to his course, had drawn a dagger upon
him, had frequently covered him with personal abuse,
and had crowned his offensive conduct by the invention
of the memorable fool’s-cap: livery.
Yet the Cardinal usually spoke of him with pity and
gentle consideration, described him as really well
disposed in the main, as misled by others, as a “friend
of smoke,” who might easily be gained by flattery
and bribery. When there was question of the
Count’s going to Madrid, the Cardinal renewed
his compliments with additional expression of eagerness
that they should be communicated to their object.
Whence all this Christian meekness in the author
of the Ban against Orange and the eulogist of Alva?
The true explanation of this endurance on the part
of the Cardinal lies in the estimate which he had
formed of Egmont’s character. Granvelle
had taken the man’s measure, and even he could
not foresee the unparalleled cruelty and dulness which
were eventually to characterize Philip’s conduct
towards him. On the contrary, there was every
reason why the Cardinal should see in the Count a
personage whom brilliant services, illustrious rank,
and powerful connexions, had marked for a prosperous
future. It was even currently asserted that
Philip was about to create him Governor-General of
the Netherlands, in order to detach him entirely from
Orange, and to bind him more closely to the Crown.
He was, therefore, a man to be forgiven. Nothing
apparently but a suspicion of heresy could damage
the prospects of the great noble, and Egmont was orthodox
beyond all peradventure. He was even a bigot
in the Catholic faith. He had privately told
the Duchess of Parma that he had always been desirous
of seeing the edicts thoroughly enforced; and he denounced
as enemies all those persons who charged him with
ever having been in favor of mitigating the System.
He was reported, to be sure, at about the time of
Granvelle’s departure from the Netherlands, to
have said “post pocula, that the quarrel was
not with the Cardinal, but with the King, who was
administering the public affairs very badly, even in
the matter of religion.” Such a bravado,
however, uttered by a gentleman in his cups, when
flushed with a recent political triumph, could hardly