ition was only intended to enforce respect for the
edicts which the Emperor Charles, in his infallible wisdom, had issued,
and the hatred which the nobles, especially, displayed against Granvelle,
Barbara's kind patron, the greatest statesman of his time and the most
loyal servant of his King, seemed to her worthy of the utmost
condemnation.

The scorn with which the rebels, after the compromise signed by the
highest nobles, had called themselves Geusen, or Beggars, and endangered
repose, would have been worthy of the severest punishment. What induced
these people to risk money and life for privileges which a wise policy of
the government--this was the firm conviction of those who shared
Barbara's views--could not possibly grant, was incomprehensible to her,
and she watched the course of the rebels with increasing aversion. Did
they suppose their well-fed magistrates and solemn States-General, who
never looked beyond their own city and country, would govern them better
than the far-sighted wisdom of a Granvelle or the vast intellect of a
Viglius, which comprised all the knowledge of the world?

What they called their liberties were privileges which a sovereign
bestowed. Ought they to wonder if another monarch, whom they had deeply
angered, did not regard them as inviolable gifts of God? The quiet
comfort of former days had been clouded, nay, destroyed, by these
patriots. Peace could be restored only by the King's silencing them. So
she wished the Spaniards a speedy success, and detested the efforts of
independent minds; above all, of William of Orange, their only too
clear-sighted, cautious, devoted leader, also skilled in the arts of
dissimulation, in whom she recognised the most dangerous foe of Spanish
sovereignty and the unity of the Church.

When, by the Duke of Alba's orders, the Counts Egmont and Horn were
executed one June day in the market place of Brussels, opinions, even of
members of the Spanish party, were divided, especially as Count Egmont
was a Catholic, and had acted finally according to the views of the
government.

Barbara sincerely lamented his terrible end, for she had seen in him a
brilliant model for her John. In hours of depression, the sudden fall of
this favourite of the people seemed like an evil omen. But she would not
let these disquieting thoughts gain power over her, for she wished at
last to enjoy life and, as the mother of such a son, felt entitled to do
so.

She regarded this crue