The senators had come forth in a body to receive the burgrave and escort him to the hotel prepared for him.  Arrived there, he lost no time in opening the business which had brought him to Antwerp.  He held at once a long consultation with the upper branch of the government.  Afterwards, day after day, he honestly, arduously, sagaciously labored to restore the public tranquillity.  He held repeated deliberations with every separate portion of the little commonwealth, the senate, the council of ancients, the corporation of ward-masters, the deans of trades.  Nor did he confine his communication to these organized political bodies alone.  He had frequent interviews with the officers of the military associations, with the foreign merchant companies, with the guilds of “Rhetoric.”  The chambers of the “Violet” and the “Marigold” were not too frivolous or fantastic to be consulted by one who knew human nature and the constitution of Netherland society so well as did the Prince.  Night and day he labored with all classes of citizens to bring about a better understanding, and to establish mutual confidence.  At last by his efforts tranquillity was restored.  The broad-council having been assembled, it was decided that the exercise of the Reformed religion should be excluded from the city, but silently tolerated in the suburbs, while an armed force was to be kept constantly in readiness to suppress all attempts at insurrection.  The Prince had desired, that twelve hundred men should be enlisted and paid by the city, so that at least a small number of disciplined troops might be ready at a moment’s warning; but he found it impossible to carry the point with the council.  The magistrates were willing to hold themselves responsible for the peace of the city, but they would have no mercenaries.

Thus, during the remainder of July and the early part of August, was William of Orange strenuously occupied in doing what should have been the Regent’s work.  He was still regarded both by the Duchess and by the Calvinist party—­although having the sympathies of neither,—­as the only man in the Netherlands who could control the rising tide of a national revolt.  He took care, said his enemies, that his conduct at Antwerp should have every appearance of loyalty; but they insinuated that he was a traitor from the beginning, who was insidiously fomenting the troubles which he appeared to rebuke.  No one doubted his genius, and all felt or affected admiration at its display upon this critical occasion.  “The Prince of Orange is doing very great and notable services at Antwerp to the King and to the country,” said Assonleville.  “That seignior is very skilful in managing great affairs.”  Margaret of Parma wrote letters to him fixed with the warmest gratitude, expressions of approbation, and of wishes that he could both remain in Antwerp and return to assist her in Brussels.  Philip, too, with his own pen, addressed him a letter, in which implicit confidence in the Prince’s character