The election was accomplished thus.  The “members,” or estates of Brussels, together with the deans, guilds, and other of the principal citizens of Antwerp, addressed a request to the states of Brabant, that William of Orange should be appointed Ruward, and after long deliberation the measure was carried.  The unsolicited honor was then solemnly offered to him.  He refused, and was only, after repeated and urgent entreaties, induced to accept the office.  The matter was then referred to the states-general, who confirmed the dignity, after some demur, and with the condition that it might be superseded by the appointment of a governor-general.  He was finally confirmed as Ruward on the 22d of October, to the boundless satisfaction of the people, who celebrated the event by a solemn holiday in Antwerp, Brussels, and other cities.  His friends, inspired by the intrigues of his enemies, had thus elevated the Prince to almost unlimited power; while a strong expression in favor of his government had been elicited from the most important ally of the Netherlands-England.  It soon rested with himself only to assume the government of Flanders, having been elected stadholder, not once only, but many times, by the four estates of that important province, and having as constantly refused the dignity.  With Holland and Zealand devoted to him, Brabant and Flanders formally under his government, the Netherland capital lavishing testimonials of affection upon him, and the mass of the people almost worshipping him, it would not have been difficult for the Prince to play a game as selfish as it had hitherto been close and skilful.  He might have proved to the grand seigniors that their suspicions were just, by assuming a crown which they had been intriguing to push from his brows.  Certainly the nobles deserved their defeat.  They had done their best to circumvent Orange, in all ways and at all times.  They had paid their court to power when it was most powerful, and had sought to swim on the popular tide when it was rising.  He avenged himself upon their perfidy only by serving his country more faithfully than ever, but it was natural that he should be indignant at the conduct of these gentlemen, “children of good houses,” (in his own words,) “issue of worthy, sires,” whose fathers, at least, he had ever loved and honored.

“They serve the Duke of Alva and the Grand Commander like varlets,” he cried; “they make war upon me to the knife.  Afterwards they treat with me, they reconcile themselves with me, they are sworn foes of the Spaniard.  Don John arrives, and they follow him; they intrigue for my ruin.  Don John fails in his enterprise upon Antwerp citadel; they quit him incontinently and call upon me.  No sooner do I come than, against their oath and without previous communication with the states or myself, they call upon the Archduke Matthias.  Are the waves of the sea more inconstant—­is Euripus more uncertain than the counsels of such men?”