d of petitions on the other. The archbishop demanded the unconditional
submission of his subjects, and gave no assurances of toleration. The
Protestants declared themselves ready to give him their unqualified
allegiance, as their temporal sovereign, but claimed the liberty to
worship God. Maximilian referred to the laws and constitutions of the
Empire of which they formed an integral part. The burgesses answered by
showing that they had always been governed in accordance with the
"placards" issued by the King of Spain for his provinces of the
Netherlands, and that, whenever they had appealed in times past to the
chamber of the Empire, as for example at Spires, they had not only been
repelled, but even punished for their temerity.[409] They claimed,
therefore, the benefit of the "Accord" made by the Duchess of Parma at
Brussels a few days previously, guaranteeing the exercise of the reformed
religion wherever it had heretofore been practised;[410] while the
archbishop, when forced to declare himself, plainly announced that he
would not suffer the least deviation from the Roman Catholic faith. In
their perplexity, the Protestants had recourse to the Count of Horn, at
Tournay, by whom they were received with the utmost kindness. The count
even furnished them with a letter to the archbishop, entreating him to be
merciful to them.[411]

[Sidenote: The Archbishop's vengeance.]

But nothing was further from the heart of Maximilian than mercy. He was
the same blind adherent of Cardinal Granvelle and his policy, whom, a year
or two before, Brederode, Hoogstraaten, and their fellow-revellers had
grievously insulted at a banquet given to Egmont before his departure for
Spain; the same treacherous, sanguinary priest who wrote to Granvelle
respecting Valenciennes: "We had better push forward and make an end of
all the principal heretics, whether rich or poor, without regarding
whether the city will be entirely ruined by such a course."[412] On
Monday, the twenty-fourth of March, 1567, the troops of the archbishop
appeared before Cateau, and the same day the place was surrendered by the
treachery of some of the inhabitants. At once Cateau became a scene of
bloody executions. All that had taken part in the Protestant worship were
brought before a tribunal, which often tried, condemned, and punished with
death upon one and the same day. Monsieur Philippe, the rash preacher, and
one of his deacons seem to have been the first victims. Th