ad.
Gemma Frisius, the astrologer who had cast the horoscope of Count Horn at
his birth, had come to him in the most solemn manner to warn him against
visiting Brussels. The Count had answered stoutly that he placed his
trust in God, and that, moreover, his friend Egmont was going thither
also, who had engaged that no worse fate should befal the one of them
than the other.

The heads of both sufferers were now exposed for two hours upon the iron
stakes. Their bodies, placed in coffins, remained during the same
interval upon the scaffold. Meantime, notwithstanding the presence of the
troops, the populace could not be restrained from tears and from
execrations. Many crowded about the scaffold, and dipped their
handkerchiefs in the blood, to be preserved afterwards as memorials of
the crime and as ensigns of revenge.

The bodies were afterwards delivered to their friends. A stately
procession of the guilds, accompanied by many of the clergy, conveyed
their coffins to the church of Saint Gudule. Thence the body of Egmont
was carried to the convent of Saint Clara, near the old Brussels gate,
where it was embalmed. His escutcheon and banners were hung upon the
outward wall of his residence, by order of the Countess. By command of
Alva they were immediately torn down. His remains were afterwards
conveyed to his city of Sottegem, in Flanders, where they were interred.
Count Horn was entombed at Kempen. The bodies had been removed from the
scaffold at two o'clock. The heads remained exposed between burning
torches for two hours longer. They were then taken down, enclosed in
boxes, and, as it was generally supposed, despatched to Madrid. The King
was thus enabled to look upon the dead faces of his victims without the
trouble of a journey to the provinces.

Thus died Philip Montmorency, Count of Horn, and Lamoral of Egmont,
Prince of Gaveren. The more intense sympathy which seemed to attach
itself to the fate of Egmont, rendered the misfortune of his companion in
arms and in death comparatively less interesting.

Egmont is a great historical figure, but he was certainly not a great
man. His execution remains an enduring monument not only of Philip's
cruelty and perfidy but of his dullness. The King had everything to hope
from Egmont and nothing to fear. Granvelle knew the man well, and, almost
to the last, could not believe in the possibility of so unparalleled a
blunder as that which was to make a victim, a martyr, and a popu