the most determined animosity to the Cardinal,
which was manifested in the reckless, buffooning way which belonged to
their characters. Besides the ecclesiastical costumes in which they
always attired themselves at their frequent festivities, they also wore
fog-tails in their hats instead of plumes. They decked their servants
also with the same ornaments; openly stating, that by these symbols they
meant to signify that the old fox Granvelle, and his cubs, Viglius,
Berlaymont, and the rest, should soon be hunted down by them, and the
brush placed in their hats as a trophy.

Moreover, there is no doubt that frequent threats of personal violence
were made against the Cardinal. Granvelle informed the King that his life
was continually menaced by, the nobles, but that he feared them little,
"for he believed them too prudent to attempt any thing of the kind."
There is no doubt, when his position with regard to the upper and lower
classes in the country is considered, that there was enough to alarm a
timid man; but Granvelle was constitutionally brave. He was accused of
wearing a secret shirt of mail, of living in perpetual trepidation, of
having gone on his knees to Egmont and Orange, of having sent Richardot,
Bishop of Arras, to intercede for him in the same humiliating manner with
Egmont. All these stories were fables. Bold as he was arrogant, he
affected at this time to look down with a forgiving contempt on the
animosity of the nobles. He passed much of his time alone, writing his
eternal dispatches to the King. He had a country-house, called La
Fontaine, surrounded by beautiful gardens, a little way outside the gates
of Brussels, where he generally resided, and whence, notwithstanding the
remonstrances of his friends, he often returned to town, after sunset,
alone, or with but a few attendants. He avowed that he feared no attempts
at assassination, for, if the seigniors took his life, they would destroy
the best friend they ever had. This villa, where most of his plans were
matured and his state papers drawn up, was called by the people, in
derision of his supposed ancestry, "The Smithy." Here, as they believed,
was the anvil upon which the chains of their slavery were forging; here,
mostly deserted by those who had been his earlier, associates, he assumed
a philosophical demeanor which exasperated, without deceiving his
adversaries. Over the great gate of his house he had placed the marble
statue of a female. It held an