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,