Meantime, in Brussels, the few Spaniards trembled for their lives.  The few officers shut up there were in imminent danger.  “As the Devil does not cease to do his work,” wrote Colonel Verdugo, “he has put it into the heads of the Brabanters to rebel, taking for a pretext the mutiny of the Spaniards.  The Brussels men have handled their weapons so well against those who were placed there to protect them, that they have begun to kill the Spaniards, threatening likewise the Council of State.  Such is their insolence, that they care no more for these great lords than for so many varlets.”  The writer, who had taken refuge, together with Jerome de Roda and other Spaniards, or “Hispaniolized” persons, in Antwerp citadel, proceeded to sketch the preparations which were going on in Brussels, and the counter measures which were making progress in Antwerp.  “The states,” he wrote, “are enrolling troops, saying ’tis to put down the mutiny; but I assure you ’tis to attack the army indiscriminately.  To prevent such a villainous undertaking, troops of all nations are assembling here, in order to march straight upon Brussels, there to enforce everything which my lords of the State Council shall ordain.”  Events were obviously hastening to a crisis—­an explosion, before long, was inevitable.  “I wish I had my horses here,” continued the Colonel, “and must beg you to send them.  I see a black cloud hanging over our heads.  I fear that the Brabantines will play the beasts so much, that they will have all the soldiery at their throats.”

Jerome de Roda had been fortunate enough to make his escape out of Brussels, and now claimed to be sole Governor of the Netherlands, as the only remaining representative of the State Council.  His colleagues were in durance at the capital.  Their authority was derided.  Although not yet actually imprisoned, they were in reality bound hand and foot, and compelled to take their orders either from the Brabant estates or from the burghers of Brussels.  It was not an illogical proceeding, therefore, that Roda, under the shadow of the Antwerp citadel, should set up his own person as all that remained of the outraged majesty of Spain.  Till the new Governor, Don Juan, should arrive, whose appointment the King had already communicated to the government, and who might be expected in the Netherlands before the close of the autumn, the solitary councillor claimed to embody the whole Council.  He caused a new seal to be struck—­a proceeding very unreasonably charged as forgery by the provincials—­and forthwith began to thunder forth proclamations and counter-proclamations in the King’s name and under the royal seal.  It is difficult to see any technical crime or mistake in such a course.  As a Spaniard, and a representative of his Majesty, he could hardly be expected to take any other view of his duty.  At any rate, being called upon to choose between rebellious Netherlanders and mutinous Spaniards, he was not long in making up his mind.