purpose than the extermination of the “accursed vermin.”
Burning with indignation at this cold-blooded narrative, and horror-stricken at the imminent peril of his fellow countrymen, William nevertheless assumed a mask which his life at court had taught him, and received the news with a serene countenance. When his friends learned of this incident, they called him thereafter “William the Taciturn.”
From this moment the seeds of Protestantism which had been planted in his infant mind by his pious mother, Juliana of Stolberg, began to take root. He made it in his way to return to the Netherlands as speedily as possible, fully determined to compel the King to recall the Spanish troops and to crush the Inquisition.
On this occasion the Prince of Orange was actuated by philanthropic motives alone. He was not a religious enthusiast, nor an advocate of the Reformation. He simply detested murder, and was unwilling to see thousands of his innocent fellow countrymen slaughtered in cold blood. At this period in his career William concerned himself very little with questions of theology. He was a Catholic both in belief and outward observance. He was a generous, courteous, liberal-minded nobleman, beloved and honored by all. The subtlety and breadth of his intellect, his adroitness in conducting State affairs, his broad and tolerant views,
