Great changes, destined to be perpetual, were steadily preparing in the internal condition of the provinces.  A preliminary measure of an important character had been taken early this year by the assembly of the united provinces held in the month of January at Delft.  This was the establishment of a general executive council.  The constitution of the board was arranged on the 13th of the month, and was embraced in eighteen articles.  The number of councillors was fixed at thirty, all to be native Netherlanders; a certain proportion to be appointed from each province by its estates.  The advice and consent of this body as to treaties with foreign powers were to be indispensable, but they were not to interfere with the rights and duties of the states-general, nor to interpose any obstacle to the arrangements with the Duke of Anjou.

While this additional machine for the self-government of the provinces was in the course of creation; the Spanish monarch, on the other hand, had made another effort to recover the authority which he felt slipping from his grasp.  Philip was in Portugal, preparing for his coronation in, that, new kingdom—­an event to be nearly contemporaneous with his deposition from the Netherland sovereignty, so solemnly conferred upon him a quarter of a century before in Brussels; but although thus distant, he was confident that he could more wisely govern the Netherlands than the inhabitants could do, and unwilling as ever to confide in the abilities of those to whom he had delegated his authority.  Provided; as he unquestionably was at that moment, with a more energetic representative than any who had before exercised the functions of royal governor in the provinces, he was still disposed to harass, to doubt, and to interfere.  With the additional cares of the Portuguese Conquest upon his hands, he felt as irresistibly impelled as ever to superintend the minute details of provincial administration.  To do this was impossible.  It was, however, not impossible, by attempting to do it, to produce much mischief.  “It gives me pain,” wrote Granvelle, “to see his Majesty working as before—­choosing to understand everything and to do everything.  By this course, as I have often said before, he really accomplishes much less.”  The King had, moreover, recently committed the profound error of sending the Duchess Margaret of Parma to the Netherlands again.  He had the fatuity to believe her memory so tenderly cherished in the provinces as to ensure a burst of loyalty at her reappearance, while the irritation which he thus created in the breast of her son he affected to disregard.  The event was what might have been foreseen.  The Netherlanders were very moderately excited by the arrival of their former regent, but the Prince of Parma was furious.  His mother actually arrived at Namur in the month of August, 1580, to assume the civil administration of the provinces,—­and he was himself, according to the King’s request, to continue in the command of the army.  Any one