Frisian had but recently permitted him to resume his seat at the council board.  His presence there was but temporary, for he had received from Madrid the acceptance of his resignation, accompanied with orders to discharge the duties of President until the arrival of his successor, Charles de Tisnacq.  Thus, in his own language, the Duchess was still obliged to rely for a season “upon her ancient Palinurus,” a necessity far from agreeable to her, for she had lost confidence in the pilot.  It may be supposed that he was anxious to smooth the troubled waters during the brief period in which he was still to be exposed to their fury; but he poured out the oil of his eloquence in vain.  Nobody sustained his propositions.  The Duchess, although terrified at the probable consequences, felt the impossibility of disobeying the deliberate decree of her brother.  A proclamation was accordingly prepared, by which it was ordered that the Council of Trent, the edicts and the inquisition, should be published in every town and village in the provinces, immediately, and once in six months forever afterwards.  The deed was done, and the Prince of Orange, stooping to the ear of his next neighbor, as they sat at the council-board, whispered that they were now about to witness the commencement of the most extraordinary tragedy which had ever been enacted.

The prophecy was indeed a proof that the Prince could read the future, but the sarcasm of the President, that the remark had been made in a tone of exultation, was belied by every action of the prophet’s life.

The fiat went forth.  In the market-place of every town and village of the Netherlands, the inquisition was again formally proclaimed.  Every doubt which had hitherto existed as to the intention of the government was swept away.  No argument was thenceforward to be permissible as to the constitutionality of the edicts as to the compatibility of their provisions with the privileges of the land.  The cry of a people in its agony ascended to Heaven.  The decree was answered with a howl of execration.  The flames of popular frenzy arose lurid and threatening above the house-tops of every town and village.  The impending conflict could no longer be mistaken.  The awful tragedy which the great watchman in the land had so long unceasingly predicted, was seen sweeping solemnly and steadily onward.  The superstitious eyes of the age saw supernatural and ominous indications in the sky.  Contending armies trampled the clouds; blood dropped from heaven; the exterminating angel rode upon the wind.

There was almost a cessation of the ordinary business of mankind.  Commerce was paralyzed.  Antwerp shook as with an earthquake.  A chasm seemed to open, in which her prosperity and her very existence were to be forever engulfed.  The foreign merchants, manufacturers, and artisans fled from her gates as if the plague were raging within them.  Thriving cities were likely soon to be depopulated.  The metropolitan heart of the whole country was almost motionless.