The Press.
London, England, 1858-05-01 00:00:00

417

irresponsible destiny which ruled them was to be Duals
manifest by the immolation of these two men, so elevated
by rank, powerful connection, and distinguished service.
The effect would be heightened by the character of the
locality where the gloomy show was to be presented. Thai
great square of Brussels had always a striking and theatrical
aspect. The splendid Hotel de Ville, with its daring spire
and elaborate front, ornamented one side of the place ;
directly opposite was the graceful but incoherent facade of
the Brood-huis, now the last earthly resting-plane of the
two distinguished victims, while grouped araund these
principal buildings rose the fantastic palaces of the Archers,
Manners, and of other guilds, with their festooned walls
and toppling gables bedizened profusely with emblems,
statues, and quaint decorations. The place had been
alike the scene of many a brilliant tournament and of many
a bloody execution. Gallant knights had contended within
its precincts, while bright eyes rained influence from all
those picturesque balconies and decorated windows. Mar-
tyrs to religious and to political liberty had, upon the same
spot, endured agonies which might have roused every stone
of its pavement to mutiny Cr softened them to pity. Hue,
Egmont himself, in happier days, had often borne away the
prize of skill or of valour, the cynosure of every eye ; and
hence, almost in the noon of a life illustrated by many
brilliant actions, he was to be sent, by the hand of tyranny,
to his great account.
On the morning of the sth of June, three thousand
Spanish troops wars drawn up in battle array around a
scaffold which had been erected in the centre of the square.
Upon this scaffold, whiA was eovered with black cloth,
were placed two velvet cushions, two iron spikes, and a
small table. Upon this table was a silver crucifix. The
provost-marshal, Spelle, sat on horseback below, with his
red wand in his hand, little dreaming that for him a darker
doom was reserved then that of which he was now the
minister. The executioner was conssaled beneath the
draperies of the scaffold.

At eleven o'clock, a company of Spanish Noidiers, led by
Julian Romero and Captain Salinas, arrived at Eginont's
chamber. The Count was ready for them. They were
about to bind his hands, but be warmly peetsmasif against
the indignity, and, opening the folds of his robe, slowed
them that be bad himself shorn off his eollars, and made
preparations for his death. His request was granted. Eg.
moot, with the Bishop at his side, then walked with a steady
step the short distance which separated him from the pleas
of execution. Julian Romero and the guard feliewed him.
On his way he read aloud the My-drat Pula: " Hear my
cry, 0 God, and give ear unto my preyed " He seemed
to have selected those scriptural passers as a proof that,
notwithstanding the maehinatioos of his enemies, and the
cruel punishment to which they had led him, loyalty to his
sovereign was as deeply rooted and as religious a sentiment
in his bosom as devotion to his God. " Thou wilt prolong
the King's life ; ad his years as many generations. He
shall abide before God for ever ! 0 prepare mercy and
truth which may preserve him." Such was the prayer of
the condemned traitor on his way to the block.
Having ascended the scaffold, he walked across it Wee
or thrice. He was dressed in a tabard or robe of red
damask, over which was thrown a short black mantle, em-
broidered in gold. He had a black silk bat. with black
and white plumes, on hishead, and held a handkerchief in
his band. As he strode to and fro, be expressed a bitter
regret that he had not been permitted to die sword in
hand, fighting for his country and his king. Sanguine to
the last, be passionately asked Romero, whether the sen-
tence was really irrevocable, whether a pardon was not even
then to be granted. The mamba) shrugged his shoulders,
murmuring a negative reply. Upon this, Egmont gnashed
his teeth together, rather in rage than despair. Shortly
afterward commanding himself again, be threw aside his
rube and mantle, and took the badge of the Golden Flews
from his neck. Kneeling, then, upon one of the cushions,
he said the Lord's Prayer aloud, and requested the Bishop,
who knelt at his side, to repeat it thrice. After this, the
prelate gave him the sine. crucifix to kiss, and then pro-
nounced his blessing upon him. This done, the Count
rose again to his feet, laid aside his bat and handkerchief,
knelt again upon the cushion, drew a little cap over his
eyes, and, eliding his hands together, cried with a loud
voice," Lord, iuto thy bands I commit my spirit." The
executioner then suddenly appeared, and severed his bead
from his shoulders at a single blow.
A moment of shuddering silence succeeded the stroke.
The whole vast assembly seemed to have felt it in their
own hearts. Tears fell from the eyes even of the Spanish
soldiery, for they knew and honoured Egmont as a valiant
general. The French ambassador, Mondoncet, looking
upon the scene from a secret place, whispered that he had
now seen the head fall before which France had twice
trembled. Tears were even seen upon the iron cheek of
Alva, as from a window in a house directly opposite the
scaffold, he looked out upon the scene.
A dark cloth was now quickly thrown over the body and
the blood, and, within a fee minutes, the Admiral was seen
advancing through the crowd. His bald head was un-
covered, his bands were unbound. He calmly saluted Poch
of his acquaintances PS he chanced to recognise neon his
path. Under a black cloak, which he threw off when he
bad ascended the scaffold, he wore a plain, dark donblet,
and he did not, like Egmont, wear the insignia of the
Fleece. Casting his eyes upon the corpse, which lay
covered with the clerk cloth, he asked it it were the body of
Egmont. Being answered in the affirmative, be muttered
a few words in Spanish, which were not distinctly audible.
His attention was next caught by the sight of his own coat
of arms reversed, and he expressed anger at this indignity
to his escutcheon, protesting that he bed not deserted the
insult. He then spoke a few words to the crowd below,
wishing them happiness, and beggipg them to pray for his
soul. He did not kits the crupNix, but he knelt upon the
scaffold to pray, an eted in his devotions by the
Bishop of Ypres. When they wpr, toneaded, be TOM
again to his fret Then kudos a Milaa sap eegaptstely
over his bps, sod *Win, Ili 411411 f tbp sow bryvpstton

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418

which Egmont had used, he submitted his neck to the
stroke.
Much of this is very good, and the spitited
grouping of the details is well executed; but
the style would have been improved by
pruning, and more regard to chasteness of
expression. " Bright eyes rained influence" is
too hackneyed ; " agonies which might have
" roused every stone to mutiny, or softened
" them to pity," is ridiculous, for though Mark
Antony in Julius Cesar takes nearly similar
liberties with the stones, it is to be recollected
that Shakespeare was putting language into
the mouth of an orator, while an historian
must rarely indulge in such vehemence of
metaphlrical expression. " The cynosure of
every eye," and " by the hand of tyranny to
his great account," are commonplaces. The
entire of that opening paragraph should be
carefully revised and pruned. But the narra-
tive of details which then follows is close, full,
and various, and is well calculated to rivet a
reader's attention. We must add, also, that
the authorities for all the statements in that
passage are numerous and appropriately cited.
Here is a passage, on the sack of Naarden,
exemplifying the fault of Mr. Motley's redun-
dancy in indignation :

It is not without reluctance, bat still with a stern de -
termination, that the historian should faithfully record
these transactions. To extenuate would be base ; to exag-
gerate impossible. It is good that the world should not
forget how much wrong has been endured by a single na-
tion at the hands of despotism, and in the sacred name of
God. There have been tongues and pens enough to narrate
the excesses of the people, bursting from time to time out
of slavery into madness. It is good, too, that those crimes
should be remembered, and freshly pondered ; but it is
equally wholesome to study the opposite picture. Tyranny,
ever young and ever old, constantly reproducing herself
with the same stony features, with the same imposing mask
which she has worn through all ages, can never be too
minutely examined, especially when she paints her own
portrait, and when the secret history of her guilt is fur-
nished by the confessions of her lovers. The perusal of her
traits will not make us love popular liberty the less.
Those sentences have no historical reflection
in them; they are little better than common-
places, and we should like all such passages
expunged, as being superfluous.

The work abounds with moat curious and
interesting matter. A battle on the ice is thus
recounted :

The inhabitants of Harlem felt that danger. Boss, Alva's
stadholder for Holland, had formerly announced the system
hitherto pursued at Mechlin, Zutphen, and Naarden, as the
deliberate policy of the Government. The King's represen-
tative had formally proclaimed the extermination of man,
woman, and child in every city which opposed his authority,
but the promulgation and practice of such a system had an
opposite effect to the one intended. The hearts of the Hol-
landers were rather steeled to resistance than awed into sub-
mission by the fate of Naarden. A fortunate event, too,
was accepted as a lucky omen for the coming contest: A
little fleet of armed vessels, belonging to Holland, had been
frozen up in the neighbourhood of Amsterdam. Don
Frederic, on his arrival from Naarden, despatched a body
of picked men over the ice to attack the imprisoned vessels.
The crews had, however, fortified themselves by digging a
wide trench around the whole fleet, which thus became from
the moment an almost impregnable fortress. Out of this
frozen citadel a strong band of well-armed and skilful
musketeers sallied forth upon skates as the besieging force
advanced. A rapid, brilliant, and slippery skirmish suc-
ceeded, in which the Hollanders, so accustomed to such
sports, easily vanquished their antagonists, and drove them
off the field, with the loss of several hundred left dead
upon the ice. " 'Twas a thing never heard of before to-
day," said Alva, " to see a body of arquebusiers thus skir-
mishing upon a frozen sea." In the course of the next
four ar.d-twenty hours a flood and a rapid thaw released
the vessels, which all escaped to Enkhuizen, while a frost,
immediately and strangely succeeding, made pursuit im-
possible.
The Spaniards were astonished at these novel
manceuvres upon the ice. It is amusing to read their
elaborate descriptions of the wonderful appendages which
bad enabled the Hollanders to glide so glibly into battle
with a superior force, and so rapidly to glance away, after
achieving a signal triumph. Nevertheless, the Spaniards
could never be dismayed, and were always apt scholars,
even if an enemy were the teacher. Alva immediately
ordered seven thousand pairs of skates, and his soldiers
soon learned to perform military evolutions with these new
accoutrements as audaciously, if not as adroitly, as the

There are several curious and quaint cita-
tions in the excellent and learned notes
authenticating the text. We may cite one
from the pasquinade against Don John of
Austria :

The following squib, taken from a MS. calleetion of
pasquilles of the day, shows what was a very general
opinion in the Netherlands concerning the parentage of
Don John and the position of Barbara Blomberg. The
lines—versos they axe nut—have some ingenuity