Nevertheless, although beaten constantly, the Netherlanders were not
conquered. Holland and Zealand had read the foe a lesson which he had
not forgotten, and although on the open fields, and against the less
vigorous population of the more central provinces, his triumphs had been
easier, yet it was obvious that the spirit of resistance to foreign
oppression was growing daily stronger, notwithstanding daily defeats.

Meantime, while these desultory but deadly combats were in daily
progress, the Council of State was looked upon with suspicion by the mass
of the population. That body, in which resided provisionally the powers
of government, was believed to be desirous of establishing relations with
the mutinous army. It was suspected of insidiously provoking the
excesses which it seemed to denounce. It was supposed to be secretly
intriguing with those whom its own edicts had outlawed. Its sympathies
were considered, Spanish. It was openly boasted by the Spanish army
that, before long, they would descend from their fastnesses upon
Brussels, and give the city to the sword. A shuddering sense of coming
evil pervaded the population, but no man could say where the blow would
first be struck. It was natural that the capital should be thought
exposed to imminent danger. At the same time, while every man who had
hands was disposed to bear arms to defend the city, the Council seemed
paralyzed. The capital was insufficiently garrisoned, yet troops were
not enrolling for its protection. The state councillors obviously
omitted to provide for defence, and it was supposed that they were
secretly assisting the attack. It was thought important, therefore,
to disarm, or, at least, to control this body which was impotent for
protection, and seemed powerful only for mischief. It was possible to
make it as contemptible as it was believed to be malicious.

An unexpected stroke was therefore suddenly levelled against the Council