was soon recognized both by Governor-General and King
as the individual above all others to whom the re-establishment
of the royal authority over the Walloon provinces
was owing. With the shoes of swiftness on his
feet, the coat of darkness on his back, and the wishing
purse in his hand, he sped silently and invisibly from
one great Malcontent chieftain to another, buying
up centurions, and captains, and common soldiers;
circumventing Orangists, Ghent democrats, Anjou partisans;
weaving a thousand intrigues, ventilating a hundred
hostile mines, and passing unharmed through the most
serious dangers and the most formidable obstacles.
Eloquent, too, at a pinch, he always understood his
audience, and upon this occasion unsheathed the most
incisive, if not the most brilliant weapon which could
be used in the debate. It was most expensive
to be patriotic, he said, while silver was to be saved,
and gold to be earned by being loyal. They ought
to keep their money to defend themselves, not give
it to the Prince of Orange, who would only put it
into his private pocket on pretence of public necessities.
The Ruward would soon be slinking back to his lair,
he observed, and leave them all in the fangs of their
enemies. Meantime, it was better to rush into
the embrace of a bountiful king, who was still holding
forth his arms to them. They were approaching
a precipice, said the Prior; they were entering a
labyrinth; and not only was the “sempiternal
loss of body and soul impending over them, but their
property was to be taken also, and the cat to be thrown
against their legs.” By this sudden descent
into a very common proverbial expression, Sarrasin
meant to intimate that they were getting themselves
into a difficult position, in which they were sure
to reap both danger and responsibility.
The harangue had much effect upon his hearers, who
were now more than ever determined to rebel against
the government which they had so recently accepted,
preferring, in the words of the Prior, “to be
maltreated by their prince, rather than to be barbarously
tyrannized over by a heretic.” So much
anger had been excited in celestial minds by a demand
of thirty-five hundred florins.
Saint Aldegonde was entertained in the evening at
a great banquet, followed by a theological controversy,
in which John Sarrasin complained that “he had
been attacked upon his own dunghill.” Next
day the distinguished patriot departed on a canvassing
tour among the principal cities; the indefatigable
monk employing the interval of his absence in aggravating
the hostility of the Artesian orders to the pecuniary
demands of the general government. He was assisted
in his task by a peremptory order which came down
from Brussels, ordering, in the name of Matthias, a
levy upon the ecclesiastical property, “rings,
jewels, and reliquaries,” unless the clerical
contribution should be forthcoming. The rage of
the bench was now intense, and by the time of Saint
Aldegonde’s return a general opposition had