He was, however, very premature in his triumph, for the estates were not long in withdrawing a concession which had either been wrung from them by violence or filched from them by misrepresentation.  Taking the ground that the assent of all had been stipulated before that of any one should be esteemed valid, every province now refused to enforce or to permit the collection of the tenth or the twentieth penny within their limits.  Dire were the threatenings and the wrath of the Viceroy, painfully protracted the renewed negotiations with the estates.  At last, a compromise was effected, and the final struggle postponed.  Late in the summer it was agreed that the provinces should pay two millions yearly for the two following years, the term to expire in the month of August, 1571.  Till that period, therefore, there was comparative repose upon the subject.

The question of a general pardon had been agitated for more than a year, both in Brussels and Madrid.  Viglius, who knew his countrymen better than the Viceroy knew them, had written frequently to his friend Hopper, on the propriety of at once proclaiming an amnesty.  There had also been many conferences between himself and the Duke of Alva, and he had furnished more than one draught for the proposed measure.  The President knew full well that the point had been reached beyond which the force of tyranny could go no further.  All additional pressure, he felt sure, could only produce reaction, the effect of which might be to drive the Spaniards from the Netherlands.  There might then be another game to play.  The heads of those who had so assiduously served the government throughout its terrible career might, in their turn, be brought to the block, and their estates be made to enrich the Treasury.  Moreover, there were symptoms that Alva’s favor was on the wane.  The King had not been remarkably struck with the merits of the new financial measures, and had expressed much, anxiety lest the trade of the country should suffer.  The Duke was known to be desirous of his recal.  His health was broken, he felt that he was bitterly detested throughout the country, and he was certain that his enemies at Madrid were fast undermining his credit.  He seemed also to have a dim suspicion that his mission was accomplished in the Netherlands; that as much blood had been shed at present as the land could easily absorb.  He wrote urgently and even piteously to Philip, on the subject of his return.  “Were your Majesty only pleased to take me from this country,” he said, “I should esteem it as great a favor as if your Majesty had given me life.”  He swore “by the soul of the Duchess,” that he “would rather be cut into little pieces” than retire from his post were his presence necessary, but he expressed the opinion that through his exertions affairs had been placed in such train that they were sure to roll on smoothly to the end of time.  “At present, and for the future,” he wrote, “your Majesty is and will be more strictly obeyed than any