illustrious Duke has written to the King in praise
of my obsequiousness; when I am censured here for
so reverently cherishing him, it is a consolation that
my services to the King and to the governor are not
unappreciated there.” Indeed the Duke of
Alva, who had originally suspected the President’s
character, seemed at last overcome by his indefatigable
and cringing homage. He wrote to the King, in
whose good graces the learned Doctor was most anxious
at that portentous period to maintain himself, that
the President was very serviceable and diligent, and
that he deserved to receive a crumb of comfort from
the royal hand. Philip, in consequence, wrote
in one of his letters a few lines of vague compliment,
which could be shown to Viglius, according to Alva’s
suggestion. It is, however, not a little characteristic
of the Spanish court and of the Spanish monarch, that,
on the very day before, he had sent to the Captain-General
a few documents of very different import. In
order, as he said, that the Duke might be ignorant
of nothing which related to the Netherlands, he forwarded
to him copies of the letters written by Margaret of
Parma from Brussels, three years before. These
letters, as it will be recollected, contained an account
of the secret investigations which the Duchess had
made as to the private character and opinions of Viglius—at
the very moment when he apparently stood highest in
her confidence—and charged him with heresy,
swindling, and theft. Thus the painstaking and
time-serving President, with all his learning and
experience, was successively the dupe of Margaret
and of Alva, whom he so obsequiously courted, and
always of Philip, whom he so feared and worshipped.
With his assistance, the list of blood-councillors
was quickly completed. No one who was offered
the office refused it. Noircarmes and Berlaymont
accepted with very great eagerness. Several presidents
and councillors of the different provincial tribunals
were appointed, but all the Netherlanders were men
of straw. Two Spaniards, Del Rio and Vargas,
were the only members who could vote; while their decisions,
as already stated, were subject to reversal by Alva.
Del Rio was a man without character or talent, a
mere tool in the hands of his superiors, but Juan
de Vargas was a terrible reality.
No better man could have been found in Europe for
the post to which he was thus elevated. To shed
human blood was, in his opinion, the only important
business and the only exhilarating pastime of life.
His youth had been stained with other crimes.
He had been obliged to retire from Spain, because
of his violation of an orphan child to whom he was
guardian, but, in his manhood, he found no pleasure
but in murder. He executed Alva’s bloody
work with an industry which was almost superhuman,
and with a merriment which would have shamed a demon.
His execrable jests ring through the blood and smoke
and death-cries of those days of perpetual sacrifice.