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