The Press. — London, England, 1855-11-10 00:00:00

1076 fall rowers ; and with the date of his arrival in Flanders one of the darkest pages in the whole history of merciless persecution is opened to our view. The sage William of Orange, and some other chiefs of the indepen dent party, withdrew ; but Counts Egmont and Hoorne, conscious of their devotion to Philip, and of the services they had rendered to his Throne, remained The story of Egmont has every element that can move the human heart to pity, and inspire it with profound detestation of cruelty and faithlessness. No man of his day was more truly brave and chivalrous. His sword had ever been at the service of Philip. He had gained for him the brilliant victory of St. Quentin. He had steadily refused every in ducement to act against the royal authority. He was even a staunch Romanist, and had been treated by Philip with the greatest ap parent cordiality. He was the honoured father of eleven children, adored by his coun trymen for his patriotic feeling, beloved by all who knew him for his virtues. From Alva and his terrible Council of Blood he, it seemed certain, could have nothing to fear. His dream of safety was rudely dispelled. He was arrested with Hoorne at a council to which they had been invited. Their execution had already been decided on at Madrid, and their trial was a mere mockery. The execution of Egmont is described with the author's usual particularity : Egmont was dressed in a crimson damask robe, over which was a Spanish mantle fringed with geld. His breeches were of black silk; and his hat, of the same mate rial, was garnished with white and sable plumes. In his hand, which, as we have seen, remained free, he held a white handkerchief. On his way to the place of execution, he was accompanied by Julian de Romero, maitre de camp, by the captain, Salinas, who had charge of the fortress of Ghent, and by the Bishop of Ypres. As the procession moved slowly forward, the count repeated some portion of the fifty-first Psalm,—" Have mercy on me, 0 God !"—in which the good prelate joined with him. In the centre of the square [at Brussels], on the spot where so much of the best blood of the Netherlands has been shed, stood the scaffold, covered with black cloth. On it were two velvet cushions with a small table, shrouded likewise in black, and supporting a silver crucifix. At the corners of the platform were two poles, pointed at the end with steel, intimating the purpose for which they were intended. • • • • The low sounds of lamentation which from time to time had been heard among the populace, were now hushed into silence, as the minister of justice appeared on the platform, approached his victim, and with a single blow of the sword severed the head from the body. A. cry of horror arose from the multitude, and some, frantic with grief. broke through the ranks of the soldiers, and wildly dipped their handkerchiefs in the blood that streamed from the scaffold, treasuring them up, says the chronicler, as precious memo rials of love and incitements to vengeance.—The head was then set on one of the poles at the end of the platform, while a mantle thrown over the mutilated trunk hid it from the public gaze. The stern Duke of Alva was moved by the distress of the unfortunate countess and her eleven children. "I do not believe," he wrote to Philip, " that there is so unfortunate a " family in the whole world. I am not sure " that the countess has the means c f procuring " a supper this very evening." Philip replied coldly, " I am well pleased to learn that the " two lords made so good and Catholic an end. " As to what you recommend in regard to the " Countess of Egmont and her eleven children, " I shall give all proper heed to it." But not even a letter from the countess herself could quicken his pity. Later, the Duke wrote " that but for a small sum he had himself " sent, she and the children would have " perished of hunger." When urged to restore the estates of Egmont to his family, Philip replied, " the time for it was not yet come." So the unhappy countess had to subsist on a small pension supplied her by Alva. Previously to this publication, it was always doubtful what was the fate of the two Flemish lords who left their country on a mission to the King at Madrid. A reference to the secret archives at Simancas discloses the facts. On various pretences Philip prevented the return of these envoys. One of them, the Marquis de Bergen, escaped by death from the fangs of his persecutor ; the other, the Baron Montigny, was arrested, underwent the form of a trial, and was sentenced to death. Philip thirsted for his blood, yet feared the effect which the news of his death might have on the people of the Netherlands : The problem to be solved was how to carry the spntence into effect, and yet leave the impression on the public that Milftift...-_ THE PRESS. Montigny died a natural death. Most of the few Ministers whom the King took into his confidence on the occasion were of opinion that it would be best to bring the prisoner's death about by means of a slow poison administered in his drink, or some article of his daily food. This would give him time, moreover, to provide for the concerns of his soul. But Philip objected to this, as not fulfilling what he was pleased to call the ends of justice. He at last decided on the garrote,—the form of execution used for the meaner sort of criminals in Spain, but which, producing death by suffocation, would be less likely to leave its traces on the body. With his own hand Philip drew up minute details for the murder of the unhappy baron. First, a report was spread of his dangerous illness. and, when this had been sufficiently published, the deadly tragedy was perpe trated At about two o'clock on the morning of the sixteenth of October, when the interval allowed for this solemn prepara tion bad expired, Father Castillo waited on the governor and the alcalde, to inform them that the hour had come, and that their prisoner was ready to receive them. Tbey went, without further delay, to the chamber of death, at tended by the notary and the executioner. Then, in their presence, while the notary made a record of the proceed ings, the grim minister of the law did his work on his un resisting victim. No sooner was the breath out of the body of Montigny, than the alcalde, the priest, and their two companions were on their way back to Valladolid, reaching it before dawn, so as to escape the notice of the inhabitants. All were solemnly bound to secrecy in regard to the dark act in which they had been engaged. The notary and the hangman were still further secured by the menace of death, in case they betrayed any knowledge of the matter; and they knew full well that Philip was nut a man to shrink from the execution of his menaces. The corpse was arrayed in a Franciscan habit, which, coming up to the throat, left the face only exposed to ob servation. It was thus seen by Montigny 's servants, who recognised the features of their master, hardly more dis torted than sometimes happens from disease, when the agonies of death have left their traces. The story went abroad that their lord had died of the fever with which he had been so violently attacked. It is characteristic of Philip's self-com placency that he placed all the circumstances of this treacherous and bloody deed on record After the lapse of three centuries the royal archives bear irrefragable testimony to his fiendish policy. The author has not been successful in throwing any new light on the fate of the un happy son of Philip, Don Carlos. He sup poses that there is no ground for believing that there was any fatal passion between the Prince and the beautiful Isabella, the third queen of Philip. Carlos was probably of a highly susceptible temperament, wrought up almost to madness by the harsh treatment of his father. The deaths within a few weeks of each other of the impetuous Prince and the lovely Queen, are a gloomy episode in one of the gloomiest reigns on record. It is at this period (1568) that Mr. Prescott's second volume ends. He deals leniently with Philip on the whole, and gives him credit for "politic sagacity," of which he had really none. It may safely be affirmed that no monarch ever did more for the degradation of a great kingdom than was effected by Philip 11. for the realm of Spain. The Poetical Wotks of Samuel Butler. Vol. I. Edited by Robert Bell. " Annotated Edition of the English Poets." London : J. W. Parker and Son. - Is the criticism of English wit the word " splendid" is rarely used. We talk and think of the dazzling Congreve, the poignant Swift, the sparkling Vanbrugh, the playful Addison, the brilliant Sheridan, but for the peculiar genius of the author of " Hudibras " the word "splendid" is appropriately reserved ; and, strong as is that superlative, the epithet is critically applied in Butler's case. It is not merely the brightness, but the breadth of his wit that is remarkable. He illumines all his subject; he shines, and does not merely sparkle ; he blazes and gives warmth, and does not flash out in transient coruscation. His distinctive merit is in the union of such force of logic with so much fire of wit, exhibited in a style remarkable for its ease, vivacity, and that hearty freshness which never can grow stale. It is common to speak of Swift as presenting the nearest English analogue to Rabelais, but we think that Butler would be a better parallel. His genius is vulgarly supposed to have been narrower than it actually was. The subject of " Uudibras ' was on the faction of his time, SATURDAY, yet he immortalised the ephemeral extrava gance, and gave lasting colours to the fading fashions of sectarian grotesqueness. His verses are still popular with the crowd; while critics, in their easy-chairs, are gra. tified by his wonderful power of vivifying the conceptions gained by analysis. He had an acute metaphysical faculty joined to rare talent for the burlesque. Cervantes and Rabelais are not the only authors recalled to us by Butler. He has often made us think of Pascal ; and some of the thoughts of •the latter genius are not unlike those which might spring from the brain of the author of " Hudi bras," as for example that quaintly profound reflection, "If the nose of Cleopatra had been " an inch shorter, the fate of the world might " have been changed." " Hudibras " is a poem requiring ample annotation, in order to make the allusions intelligible to general readers in our time, and the present edition exhibits rare reading and frequent references. Indeed, for the introductory memoir there is rather a super fluity of annotation, and we should have pre ferred that Mr. Bell had taken some of his foot-notes into the text of his commentary. He has compressed into a small compass all the main facts of Butler's life, which is a most painfully-interesting chapter in literary bio graphy. It is sad to think how such rare genius was neglected. Tell 'em how Spenser died, how Cowley mourned, How Butler's faith and service were returned, wrote Otway, whose own fate was so sad. And Dryden, in the " Hind and Panther," says : This lasting verse shall on his tomb be read— He shamed you living, and upbraids you dead. But Oldham's lines are the finest of all in reference to Butler, and are far superior to Wesley's on the same subject. Mr. Bell has cited them at length On Butler who can think without just rage, The glory, and the scandal of the age? Fair stood his hopes, when first he came to town, Met everywhere with welcomes of renown, Courted, and loved by all, with wonder read, And promises of princely favour fed; But what reward for all had he at last, After a life in dull expectance passed? The wretch at summing up his misspent days Found nothing left, but poverty and praise; Of all his gains by verse he could not save Enough to purchase flannel and a grave ; Reduced to want, he in due time fell sick, Was fain to die, and be interred on tick; And well might bless the fever that was sent, To rid him hence, and his worse fate prevent. Party writers, whether in verse or prose, hate always been doomed to injustice. The passions which they have aided in exciting grow cold, and their utility is disputed after the occasions have passed away. Yet it is to correct such injustice that " party " has been instituted. Mr. Bell is warranted in saying that, after all, there was nothing so exceptional in the case of the author of " Hudibras.' It is well observed by him : It is unnecessary to seek in Butler's work, or in his opinions, the causes of the indifference with which he was treated, for it must be allowed that the Court was perfectly impartial iu its neglect of literary claims. Otherwise we might discover in the subject of his poem, and the integrity of his religious convictions, some suggestions of a special reason for consigning him to poverty. " Hudibras " cams too late to render much practical service to the royalists. The struggle was over, the victory was won, the adherents of Cromwell were dispersed or dead, and the utmost that the ridicule of the poet could effect was to disinter the ascetic dogmas and dismal manners of Puritanism, and hold them up to derision and contempt. This was something hut it was an inferior merit to that of aiding in the contest and contributing to the triumph, or to the still more valu able talent which was available for present and future uses. They, however. who, like Cowley, suffered in the Civil Wars, or, like Dryden, labored zealously under the Resto ration, fared little better. Nor can it be reasonably sup posed that Butler's uncompromising Protestantism had anything to do with the ingratitude of royalty, since Charles found it convenient to make the same profession himself, and his successor ascended the throne with a pledge to maintain the Established Church. Upon the whole, there was nothing peculiar or exceptional in the case of Butler. He shared the seine fate which, with greater or lesser severity, descended upon all the writers who supported the cause of the Stuarts. Contemporary popularity was scarcely a com pensation for the neglect which he experienced. The peril in which his fame was placed by his imitators is remarkable : In Butler's case the neglect of the Court was rendered conspicuous by the approbation of the people. But from this source, whatever consolation it may have yielded to 1 1