Barneveld's Imprisonment--Ledenberg's Examination and Death--
Remonstrance of De Boississe--Aerssens admitted to the order of
Knights--Trial of the Advocate--Barneveld's Defence--The States
proclaim a Public Fast--Du Maurier's Speech before the Assembly--
Barneveld's Sentence--Barneveld prepares for Death--Goes to
Execution.
The Advocate had been removed within a few days after the arrest from the
chamber in Maurice's apartments, where he had originally been confined,
and was now in another building.
It was not a dungeon nor a jail. Indeed the commonplace and domestic
character of the scenery in which these great events were transacted has
in it something pathetic. There was and still remains a two-storied
structure, then of modern date, immediately behind the antique hall of
the old Counts within the Binnenhof. On the first floor was a courtroom
of considerable extent, the seat of one of the chief tribunals of justice
The story above was divided into three chambers with a narrow corridor on
each side. The first chamber, on the north-eastern side, was appropriated
for the judges when the state prisoners should be tried. In the next Hugo
Grotius was imprisoned. In the third was Barneveld. There was a tower at
the north-east angle of the building, within which a winding and narrow
staircase of stone led up to the corridor and so to the prisoners'
apartments. Rombout Hoogerbeets was confined in another building.
As the Advocate, bent with age and a life of hard work, and leaning on
his staff, entered the room appropriated to him, after toiling up the
steep staircase, he observed--
"This is the Admiral of Arragon's apartment."
It was true. Eighteen years before, the conqueror of Nieuwpoort had
assigned this lodging to the chief prisoner of war in that memorable
victory over the Spaniards, and now Maurice's faithful and trusted
counsellor at that epoch was placed in durance here, as the result of the
less glorious series of victories which had just been achieved.
It was a room of moderate dimensions, some twenty-five feet square, with
a high vaulted roof and decently furnished. Below and around him in the
courtyard were the scenes of the Advocate's life-long and triumphant
public services. There in the opposite building were the windows of the
beautiful "Hall of Truce," with its sumptuous carvings and gildings, its
sculptures and portraits, where he had negotiated with the
representatives of all the great powers of Christendom the famous Treaty
which had suspended the war of forty years, and where he was wont almost
daily to give audience to the envoys of the greatest sovereigns or the
least significant states of Europe and Asia, all of whom had been ever
solicitous of his approbation and support.
Farther along in the same building was the assembly room of the
States-General, where some of the most important affairs of the Republic
and of Europe had for years been conducted, and where he had been so
indispensable that, in the words of a contemporary who loved him not,
"absolutely nothing could be transacted in his absence, all great affairs
going through him alone."
There were two dull windows, closely barred, looking northward over an
irregular assemblage of tile-roofed houses and chimney-stacks, while
within a stone's throw to the west, but unseen, was his own elegant
mansion on the Voorhout, surrounded by flower gardens and shady pleasure
grounds, where now sat his aged wife and her children all plunged in deep
affliction.
He was allowed the attendance of a faithful servant, Jan Franken by name,
and a sentinel stood constantly before his door. His papers had been
taken from him, and at first he was deprived of writing materials.
He had small connection with the outward world. The news of the municipal
revolution which had been effected by the Stadholder had not penetrated
to his solitude, but his wife was allowed to send him fruit from their
garden. One day a basket of fine saffron pears was brought to him. On
slicing one with a knife he found a portion of a quill inside it. Within
the quill was a letter on thinnest paper, in minutest handwriting in
Latin. It was to this effect.
"Don't rely upon the States of Holland, for the Prince of Orange has
changed the magistracies in many cities. Dudley Carleton is not your
friend."
A sergeant of the guard however, before bringing in these pears, had put
a couple of them in his pocket to take home to his wife. The letter,
copies of which perhaps had been inserted for safety in several of them,
was thus discovered and the use of this ingenious device prevented for
the future.
Secretary Ledenberg, who had been brought to the Hague in the early days
of September, was the first of the prisoners subjected to examination. He
was much depressed at the beginning of it, and is said to have exclaimed
with many sighs, "Oh Barneveld, Barneveld, what have you brought us to!"
He confessed that the Waartgelders at Utrecht had been enlisted on
notification by the Utrecht deputies in the Hague with knowledge of
Barneveld, and in consequence of a resolution of the States in order to
prevent internal tumults. He said that the Advocate had advised in the
previous month of March a request to the Prince not to come to Utrecht;
that the communication of the message, in regard to disbanding the
Waartgelders, to his Excellency had been postponed after the deputies of
the States of Holland had proposed a delay in that disbandment; that
those deputies had come to Utrecht of their own accord; . . . . that they
had judged it possible to keep everything in proper order in Utrecht if
the garrison in the city paid by Holland were kept quiet, and if the
States of Utrecht gave similar orders to the Waartgelders; for they did
not believe that his Excellency would bring in troops from the outside.
He said that he knew nothing of a new oath to be demanded of the
garrison. He stated that the Advocate, when at Utrecht, had exhorted the
States, according to his wont, to maintain their liberties and
privileges, representing to them that the right to decide on the Synod
and the Waartgelders belonged to them. Lastly, he denied knowing who was
the author of The Balance, except by common report.
Now these statements hardly amounted to a confession of abominable and
unpardonable crimes by Ledenberg, nor did they establish a charge of
high-treason and corrupt correspondence with the enemy against Barneveld.
It is certain that the extent of the revelations seemed far from
satisfactory to the accusers, and that some pressure would be necessary
in order to extract anything more conclusive. Lieutenant Nythof told
Grotius that Ledenberg had accordingly been threatened with torture, and
that the executioner had even handled him for that purpose. This was
however denied by the judges of instruction who had been charged with the
preliminary examination.
That examination took place on the 27th September. After it had been
concluded, Ledenberg prayed long and earnestly on returning to prison. He
then entrusted a paper written in French to his son Joost, a boy of
eighteen, who did not understand that language. The youth had been
allowed to keep his father company in his confinement, and slept in the
same room.
The next night but one, at two o'clock, Joost heard his father utter a
deep groan. He was startled, groped in the darkness towards his bed and
felt his arm, which was stone cold. He spoke to him and received no
answer. He gave the alarm, the watch came in with lights, and it was
found that Ledenberg had given himself two mortal wounds in the abdomen
with a penknife and then cut his throat with a table-knife which he had
secreted, some days before, among some papers.
The paper in French given to his son was found to be to this effect.
"I know that there is an inclination to set an example in my person, to
confront me with my best friends, to torture me, afterwards to convict me
of contradictions and falsehoods as they say, and then to found an
ignominious sentence upon points and trifles, for this it will be
necessary to do in order to justify the arrest and imprisonment. To
escape all this I am going to God by the shortest road. Against a dead
man there can be pronounced no sentence of confiscation of property. Done
17th September (o. s.) 1618."
The family of the unhappy gentleman begged his body for decent burial.
The request was refused. It was determined to keep the dead secretary
above ground and in custody until he could be tried, and, if possible,
convicted and punished. It was to be seen whether it were so easy to
baffle the power of the States-General, the Synod, and the Stadholder,
and whether "going to God by the shortest road" was to save a culprit's
carcass from ignominy, and his property from confiscation.
The French ambassadors, who had been unwearied in their endeavour to
restore harmony to the distracted Commonwealth before the arrest of the
prisoners, now exerted themselves to throw the shield of their
sovereign's friendship around the illustrious statesman and his
fellow-sufferers.
"It is with deepest sorrow," said de Boississe, "that I have witnessed
the late hateful commotions. Especially from my heart I grieve for the
arrest of the Seignior Barneveld, who with his discretion and wise
administration for the past thirty years has so drawn the hearts of all
neighbouring princes to himself, especially that of the King my master,
that on taking up my pen to apprize him of these events I am gravely
embarrassed, fearing to infringe on the great respect due to your
Mightinesses or against the honour and merits of the Seignior Barneveld.
. . . My Lords, take heed to your situation, for a great discontent is
smouldering among your citizens. Until now, the Union has been the chief
source of your strength. And I now fear that the King my master, the
adviser of your renowned Commonwealth, maybe offended that you have taken
this resolution after consulting with others, and without communicating
your intention to his ambassador . . . . It is but a few days that an
open edict was issued testifying to the fidelity of Barneveld, and can it
be possible that within so short a time you have discovered that you have
been deceived? I summon you once more in the name of the King to lay
aside all passion, to judge these affairs without partiality, and to
inform me what I am to say to the King. Such very conflicting accounts
are given of these transactions that I must beg you to confide to me the
secret of the affair. The wisest in the land speak so strongly of these
proceedings that it will be no wonder if the King my master should give
me orders to take the Seignior Barneveld under his protection. Should
this prove to be the case, your Lordships will excuse my course . . . I
beg you earnestly in your wisdom not to give cause of offence to
neighbouring princes, especially to my sovereign, who wishes from his
heart to maintain your dignity and interests and to assure you of his
friendship."
The language was vigorous and sincere, but the Ambassador forgot that the
France of to-day was not the France of yesterday; that Louis XIII. was
not Henry IV.; that it was but a cheerful fiction to call the present
King the guide and counsellor of the Republic, and that, distraught as
she was by the present commotions, her condition was strength and
tranquillity compared with the apparently decomposing and helpless state
of the once great kingdom of France. De Boississe took little by his
demonstration.
On the 12th December both de Boississe and du Maurier came before the
States-General once more, and urged a speedy and impartial trial for the
illustrious prisoners. If they had committed acts of treason and
rebellion, they deserved exemplary punishment, but the ambassadors warned
the States-General with great earnestness against the dangerous doctrine
of constructive treason, and of confounding acts dictated by violence of
party spirit at an excited period with the crime of high-treason against
the sovereignty of the State.
"Barneveld so honourable," they said, "for his immense and long continued
services has both this Republic and all princes and commonwealths for his
witnesses. It is most difficult to believe that he has attempted the
destruction of his fatherland, for which you know that he has toiled so
faithfully."
They admitted that so grave charges ought now to be investigated. "To
this end," said the ambassadors, "you ought to give him judges who are
neither suspected nor impassioned, and who will decide according to the
laws of the land, and on clear and undeniable evidence . . . . So doing
you will show to the whole world that you are worthy to possess and to
administer this Commonwealth to whose government God has called you."
Should they pursue another and a sterner course, the envoys warned the
Assembly that the King would be deeply offended, deeming it thus proved
how little value they set upon his advice and his friendship.
The States-General replied on the 19th December, assuring the ambassadors
that the delay in the trial was in order to make the evidence of the
great conspiracy complete, and would not tend to the prejudice of the
prisoners "if they had a good consciousness of their innocence." They
promised that the sentence upon them when pronounced would give entire
satisfaction to all their allies and to the King of France in particular,
of whom they spoke throughout the document in terms of profound respect.
But they expressed their confidence that "his Majesty would not place the
importunate and unfounded solicitations of a few particular criminals or
their supporters before the general interests of the dignity and security
of the Republic."
On the same day the States-General addressed a letter filled with very
elaborate and courteous commonplaces to the King, in which they expressed
a certainty that his Majesty would be entirely satisfied with their
actions.
The official answer of the States-General to the ambassadors, just cited,
gave but little comfort to the friends of the imprisoned statesman and
his companions. Such expressions as "ambitious and factious
spirits,"--"authors and patrons of the faction,"--"attempts at novelty
through changes in religion, in justice and in the fundamental laws of
all orders of polity," and the frequent mention of the word "conspiracy"
boded little good.
Information of this condition of affairs was conveyed to Hoogerbeets and
Grotius by means of an ingenious device of the distinguished scholar, who
was then editing the Latin works of the Hague poet, Janus Secundus.
While the sheets were going through the press, some of the verses were
left out, and their place supplied by others conveying the intelligence
which it was desired to send to the prisoners. The pages which contained
the secret were stitched together in such wise that in cutting the book
open they were not touched but remained closed. The verses were to this
effect. "The examination of the Advocate proceeds slowly, but there is
good hope from the serious indignation of the French king, whose envoys
are devoted to the cause of the prisoners, and have been informed that
justice will be soon rendered. The States of Holland are to assemble on
the 15th January, at which a decision will certainly be taken for
appointing judges. The preachers here at Leyden are despised, and men are
speaking strongly of war. The tumult which lately occurred at Rotterdam
may bring forth some good."
The quick-wited Grotius instantly discovered the device, read the
intelligence thus communicated in the proofsheets of Secundus, and made
use of the system to obtain further intelligence.
Hoogerbeets laid the book aside, not taking much interest at that time in
the works of the Hague poet. Constant efforts made to attract his
attention to those poems however excited suspicion among his keepers, and
the scheme was discovered before the Leyden pensionary had found the
means to profit by it.'
The allusions to the trial of the Advocate referred to the preliminary
examination which took place, like the first interrogatories of Grotius
and Hoogerbeets, in the months of November and December.
The thorough manner in which Maurice had reformed the States of Holland
has been described. There was one department of that body however which
still required attention. The Order of Knights, small in number but
potential in influence, which always voted first on great occasions, was
still through a majority of its members inclined to Barneveld. Both his
sons-in-law had seats in that college. The Stadholder had long believed
in a spirit of hostility on the part of those nobles towards himself. He
knew that a short time before this epoch there had been a scheme for
introducing his young brother, Frederic Henry, into the Chamber of
Knights. The Count had become proprietor of the barony of Naaldwyk, a
property which he had purchased of the Counts of Arenberg, and which
carried with it the hereditary dignity of Great Equerry of the Counts of
Holland. As the Counts of Holland had ceased to exist, although their
sovereignty had nearly been revived and conferred upon William the
Silent, the office of their chief of the stables might be deemed a
sinecure. But the jealousy of Maurice was easily awakened, especially by
any movement made or favoured by the Advocate. He believed that in the
election of Frederic Henry as a member of the College of Knights a plan
lay concealed to thrust him into power and to push this elder brother
from his place. The scheme, if scheme it were, was never accomplished,
but the Prince's rancour remained.
He now informed the nobles that they must receive into their body Francis
Aerssens, who had lately purchased the barony of Sommelsdyk, and Daniel
de Hartaing, Seignior of Marquette. With the presence of this deadly
enemy of Barneveld and another gentleman equally devoted to the
Stadholder's interest it seemed probable that the refractory majority of
the board of nobles would be overcome. But there were grave objections to
the admission of these new candidates. They were not eligible. The
constitution of the States and of the college of nobles prescribed that
Hollanders only of ancient and noble race and possessing estates in the
province could sit in that body. Neither Aerssens nor Hartaing was born
in Holland or possessed of the other needful qualifications.
Nevertheless, the Prince, who had just remodelled all the municipalities
throughout the Union which offered resistance to his authority, was not
to be checked by so trifling an impediment as the statutes of the House
of Nobles. He employed very much the same arguments which he had used to
"good papa" Hooft. "This time it must be so." Another time it might not
be necessary. So after a controversy which ended as controversies are apt
to do when one party has a sword in his hand and the other is seated at a
green-baize-covered table, Sommelsdyk and Marquette took their seats
among the knights. Of course there was a spirited protest. Nothing was
easier for the Stadholder than to concede the principle while trampling
it with his boot-heels in practice.
"Whereas it is not competent for the said two gentlemen to be admitted to
our board," said the nobles in brief, "as not being constitutionally
eligible, nevertheless, considering the strong desire of his Excellency
the Prince of Orange, we, the nobles and knights of Holland, admit them
with the firm promise to each other by noble and knightly faith ever in
future for ourselves and descendants to maintain the privileges of our
order now violated and never again to let them be directly or indirectly
infringed."
And so Aerssens, the unscrupulous plotter, and dire foe of the Advocate
and all his house, burning with bitter revenge for all the favours he had
received from him during many years, and the author of the venomous
pamphlets and diatribes which had done so much of late to blacken the
character of the great statesman before the public, now associated
himself officially with his other enemies, while the preliminary
proceedings for the state trials went forward.
Meantime the Synod had met at Dordtrecht. The great John Bogerman, with
fierce, handsome face, beak and eye of a bird of prey, and a deluge of
curly brown beard reaching to his waist, took his seat as president.
Short work was made with the Armenians. They and their five Points were
soon thrust out into outer darkness.
It was established beyond all gainsaying that two forms of Divine worship
in one country were forbidden by God's Word, and that thenceforth by
Netherland law there could be but one religion, namely, the Reformed or
Calvinistic creed.
It was settled that one portion of the Netherlanders and of the rest of
the human race had been expressly created by the Deity to be for ever
damned, and another portion to be eternally blessed. But this history has
little to do with that infallible council save in the political effect of
its decrees on the fate of Barneveld. It was said that the canons of
Dordtrecht were likely to shoot off the head of the Advocate. Their
sessions and the trial of the Advocate were simultaneous, but not
technically related to each other.
The conclusions of both courts were preordained, for the issue of the
great duel between Priesthood and State had been decided when the
military chieftain threw his sword into the scale of the Church.
There had been purposely a delay, before coming to a decision as to the
fate of the state prisoners, until the work of the Synod should have
approached completion.
It was thought good that the condemnation of the opinions of the
Arminians and the chastisement of their leaders should go hand-in-hand.
On the 23rd April 1619, the canons were signed by all the members of the
Synod. Arminians were pronounced heretics, schismatics, teachers of false
doctrines. They were declared incapable of filling any clerical or
academical post. No man thenceforth was to teach children, lecture to
adolescents, or preach to the mature, unless a subscriber to the
doctrines of the unchanged, unchangeable, orthodox church. On the 30th
April and 1st May the Netherland Confession and the Heidelberg Catechism
were declared to be infallible. No change was to be possible in either
formulary.
Schools and pulpits were inexorably bound to the only true religion.
On the 6th May there was a great festival at Dordtrecht in honour of the
conclusion of the Synod. The canons, the sentence, and long prayers and
orations in Latin by President Bogerman gladdened the souls of an immense
multitude, which were further enlivened by the decree that both Creed and
Catechism had stood the test of several criticisms and come out unchanged
by a single hair. Nor did the orator of the occasion forget to render
thanks "to the most magnanimous King James of Great Britain, through
whose godly zeal, fiery sympathy, and truly royal labour God had so often
refreshed the weary Synod in the midst of their toil."
The Synod held one hundred and eighty sessions between the 13th November
1618 and 29th May 1619, all the doings of which have been recorded in
chronicles innumerable. There need be no further mention of them here.
Barneveld and the companions of his fate remained in prison.
On the 7th March the trial of the great Advocate began. He had sat in
prison since the 18th of the preceding August. For nearly seven months he
had been deprived of all communication with the outward world save such
atoms of intelligence as could be secretly conveyed to him in the inside
of a quill concealed in a pear and by other devices. The man who had
governed one of the most important commonwealths of the world for nearly
a generation long--during the same period almost controlling the politics
of Europe--had now been kept in ignorance of the most insignificant
everyday events. During the long summer-heat of the dog-days immediately
succeeding his arrest, and the long, foggy, snowy, icy winter of Holland
which ensued, he had been confined in that dreary garret-room to which he
had been brought when he left his temporary imprisonment in the
apartments of Prince Maurice.
There was nothing squalid in the chamber, nothing specially cruel or
repulsive in the arrangements of his captivity. He was not in fetters,
nor fed upon bread and water. He was not put upon the rack, nor even
threatened with it as Ledenberg had been. He was kept in a mean,
commonplace, meagerly furnished, tolerably spacious room, and he was
allowed the services of his faithful domestic servant John Franken. A
sentinel paced day and night up the narrow corridor before his door. As
spring advanced, the notes of the nightingale came through the
prison-window from the neighbouring thicket. One day John Franken,
opening the window that his master might the better enjoy its song,
exchanged greeting with a fellow-servant in the Barneveld mansion who
happened to be crossing the courtyard. Instantly workmen were sent to
close and barricade the windows, and it was only after earnest
remonstrances and pledges that this resolve to consign the Advocate to
darkness was abandoned.
He was not permitted the help of lawyer, clerk, or man of business. Alone
and from his chamber of bondage, suffering from bodily infirmities and
from the weakness of advancing age, he was compelled to prepare his
defence against a vague, heterogeneous collection of charges, to meet
which required constant reference, not only to the statutes, privileges,
and customs of the country and to the Roman law, but to a thousand minute
incidents out of which the history of the Provinces during the past dozen
years or more had been compounded.
It is true that no man could be more familiar with the science and
practice of the law than he was, while of contemporary history he was
himself the central figure. His biography was the chronicle of his
country. Nevertheless it was a fearful disadvantage for him day by day to
confront two dozen hostile judges comfortably seated at a great table
piled with papers, surrounded by clerks with bags full of documents and
with a library of authorities and precedents duly marked and dog's-eared
and ready to their hands, while his only library and chronicle lay in his
brain. From day to day, with frequent intermissions, he was led down
through the narrow turret-stairs to a wide chamber on the floor
immediately below his prison, where a temporary tribunal had been
arranged for the special commission.
There had been an inclination at first on the part of his judges to treat
him as a criminal, and to require him to answer, standing, to the
interrogatories propounded to him. But as the terrible old man advanced
into the room, leaning on his staff, and surveying them with the air of
haughty command habitual to him, they shrank before his glance; several
involuntarily, rising uncovered, to salute him and making way for him to
the fireplace about which many were standing that wintry morning.
He was thenceforth always accommodated with a seat while he listened to
and answered 'ex tempore' the elaborate series of interrogatories which
had been prepared to convict him.
Nearly seven months he had sat with no charges brought against him. This
was in itself a gross violation of the laws of the land, for according to
all the ancient charters of Holland it was provided that accusation
should follow within six weeks of arrest, or that the prisoner should go
free. But the arrest itself was so gross a violation of law that respect
for it was hardly to be expected in the subsequent proceedings. He was a
great officer of the States of Holland. He had been taken under their
especial protection. He was on his way to the High Council. He was in no
sense a subject of the States-General. He was in the discharge of his
official duty. He was doubly and trebly sacred from arrest. The place
where he stood was on the territory of Holland and in the very sanctuary
of her courts and House of Assembly. The States-General were only as
guests on her soil, and had no domain or jurisdiction there whatever. He
was not apprehended by any warrant or form of law. It was in time of
peace, and there was no pretence of martial law. The highest civil
functionary of Holland was invited in the name of its first military
officer to a conference, and thus entrapped was forcibly imprisoned.
At last a board of twenty-four commissioners was created, twelve from
Holland and two from each of the other six provinces. This affectation of
concession to Holland was ridiculous. Either the law 'de non
evocando'--according to which no citizen of Holland could be taken out of
the province for trial--was to be respected or it was to be trampled
upon. If it was to be trampled upon, it signified little whether more
commissioners were to be taken from Holland than from each of the other
provinces, or fewer, or none at all. Moreover it was pretended that a
majority of the whole board was to be assigned to that province. But
twelve is not a majority of twenty-four. There were three fascals or
prosecuting officers, Leeuwen of Utrecht, Sylla of Gelderland, and Antony
Duyck of Holland. Duyck was notoriously the deadly enemy of Barneveld,
and was destined to succeed to his offices. It would have been as well to
select Francis Aerssens himself.
It was necessary to appoint a commission because there was no tribunal
appertaining to the States-General. The general government of the
confederacy had no power to deal with an individual. It could only
negotiate with the sovereign province to which the individual was
responsible, and demand his punishment if proved guilty of an offence.
There was no supreme court of appeal. Machinery was provided for settling
or attempting to settle disputes among the members of the confederacy,
and if there was a culprit in this great process it was Holland itself.
Neither the Advocate nor any one of his associates had done any act
except by authority, express or implied, of that sovereign State.
Supposing them unquestionably guilty of blackest crimes against the
Generality, the dilemma was there which must always exist by the very
nature of things in a confederacy. No sovereign can try a fellow
sovereign. The subject can be tried at home by no sovereign but his own.
The accused in this case were amenable to the laws of Holland only.
It was a packed tribunal. Several of the commissioners, like Pauw and
Muis for example, were personal enemies of Barneveld. Many of them were
totally ignorant of law. Some of them knew not a word of any language but
their mother tongue, although much of the law which they were to
administer was written in Latin.
Before such a court the foremost citizen of the Netherlands, the first
living statesman of Europe, was brought day by day during a period of
nearly three months; coming down stairs from the mean and desolate room
where he was confined to the comfortable apartment below, which had been
fitted up for the commission.
There was no bill of indictment, no arraignment, no counsel. There were
no witnesses and no arguments. The court-room contained, as it were, only
a prejudiced and partial jury to pronounce both on law and fact without a
judge to direct them, or advocates to sift testimony and contend for or
against the prisoner's guilt. The process, for it could not be called a
trial, consisted of a vast series of rambling and tangled interrogatories
reaching over a space of forty years without apparent connection or
relevancy, skipping fantastically about from one period to another, back
and forthwith apparently no other intent than to puzzle the prisoner,
throw him off his balance, and lead him into self-contradiction.
The spectacle was not a refreshing one. It was the attempt of a multitude
of pigmies to overthrow and bind the giant.
Barneveld was served with no articles of impeachment. He asked for a list
in writing of the charges against him, that he might ponder his answer.
The demand was refused. He was forbidden the use of pen and ink or any
writing materials. His papers and books were all taken from him.
He was allowed to consult neither with an advocate nor even with a single
friend. Alone in his chamber of bondage he was to meditate on his
defence. Out of his memory and brain, and from these alone, he was to
supply himself with the array of historical facts stretching over a
longer period than the lifetime of many of his judges, and with the
proper legal and historical arguments upon those facts for the
justification of his course. That memory and brain were capacious and
powerful enough for the task. It was well for the judges that they had
bound themselves, at the outset, by an oath never to make known what
passed in the courtroom, but to bury all the proceedings in profound
secrecy forever. Had it been otherwise, had that been known to the
contemporary public which has only been revealed more than two centuries
later, had a portion only of the calm and austere eloquence been heard in
which the Advocate set forth his defence, had the frivolous and ignoble
nature of the attack been comprehended, it might have moved the very
stones in the streets to mutiny. Hateful as the statesman had been made
by an organized system of calumny, which was continued with unabated
vigour and increased venom sine he had been imprisoned, there was enough
of justice and of gratitude left in the hearts of Netherlanders to resent
the tyranny practised against their greatest man, and the obloquy thus
brought against a nation always devoted to their liberties and laws.
That the political system of the country was miserably defective was no
fault of Barneveld. He was bound by oath and duty to administer, not make
the laws. A handful of petty feudal sovereignties such as had once
covered the soil of Europe, a multitude of thriving cities which had
wrested or purchased a mass of liberties, customs, and laws from their
little tyrants, all subjected afterwards, without being blended together,
to a single foreign family, had at last one by one, or two by two, shaken
off that supremacy, and, resuming their ancient and as it were
decapitated individualities, had bound themselves by treaty in the midst
of a war to stand by each other, as if they were but one province, for
purposes of common defence against the common foe.
There had been no pretence of laying down a constitution, of enacting an
organic law. The day had not come for even the conception of a popular
constitution. The people had not been invented. It was not provinces
only, but cities, that had contracted with each other, according to the
very first words of the first Article of Union. Some of these cities,
like Ghent, Bruges, Antwerp, were Catholic by overwhelming majority, and
had subsequently either fallen away from the confederacy or been
conquered.
And as if to make assurance doubly sure, the Articles of Union not only
reserved to each province all powers not absolutely essential for
carrying on the war in common, but by an express article (the 13th),
declared that Holland and Zealand should regulate the matter of religion
according to their own discretion, while the other provinces might
conform to the provisions of the "Religious Peace" which included mutual
protection for Catholics and Protestants--or take such other order as
seemed most conducive to the religious and secular rights of the
inhabitants. It was stipulated that no province should interfere with
another in such matters, and that every individual in them all should
remain free in his religion, no man being molested or examined on account
of his creed. A farther declaration in regard to this famous article was
made to the effect that no provinces or cities which held to the Roman
Catholic religion were to be excluded from the League of Union if they
were ready to conform to its conditions and comport themselves
patriotically. Language could not be devised to declare more plainly than
was done by this treaty that the central government of the League had
neither wish nor right to concern itself with the religious affairs of
the separate cities or provinces. If it permitted both Papists and
Protestants to associate themselves against the common foe, it could
hardly have been imagined, when the Articles were drawn, that it would
have claimed the exclusive right to define the minutest points in a
single Protestant creed.
And if the exclusively secular parts of the polity prevailing in the
country were clumsy, irregular, and even monstrous, and if its defects
had been flagrantly demonstrated by recent events, a more reasonable
method of reforming the laws might have been found than the imprisonment
of a man who had faithfully administered them forty years long.
A great commonwealth had grown out of a petty feudal organism, like an
oak from an acorn in a crevice, gnarled and distorted, though
wide-spreading and vigorous. It seemed perilous to deal radically with
such a polity, and an almost timid conservatism on the part of its
guardians in such an age of tempests might be pardonable.
Moreover, as before remarked, the apparent imbecility resulting from
confederacy and municipalism combined was for a season remedied by the
actual preponderance of Holland. Two-thirds of the total wealth and
strength of the seven republics being concentrated in one province, the
desired union seemed almost gained by the practical solution of all in
that single republic. But this was one great cause of the general
disaster.
It would be a thankless and tedious task to wander through the wilderness
of interrogatories and answers extending over three months of time, which
stood in the place of a trial. The defence of Barneveld was his own
history, and that I have attempted to give in the preceding pages. A
great part of the accusation was deduced from his private and official
correspondence, and it is for this reason that I have laid such copious
extracts from it before the reader. No man except the judges and the
States-General had access to those letters, and it was easy therefore, if
needful, to give them a false colouring. It is only very recently that
they have been seen at all, and they have never been published from that
day to this.
Out of the confused mass of documents appertaining to the trial, a few
generalizations can be made which show the nature of the attack upon him.
He was accused of having permitted Arminius to infuse new opinions into
the University of Leyden, and of having subsequently defended the
appointment of Vorstius to the same place. He had opposed the National
Synod. He had made drafts of letters for the King of Great Britain to
sign, recommending mutual toleration on the five disputed points
regarding predestination. He was the author of the famous Sharp
Resolution. He had recommended the enlistment by the provinces and towns
of Waartgelders or mercenaries. He had maintained that those mercenaries
as well as the regular troops were bound in time of peace to be obedient
and faithful, not only to the Generality and the stadholders, but to the
magistrates of the cities and provinces where they were employed, and to
the states by whom they were paid. He had sent to Leyden, warning the
authorities of the approach of the Prince. He had encouraged all the
proceedings at Utrecht, writing a letter to the secretary of that
province advising a watch to be kept at the city gates as well as in the
river, and ordering his letter when read to be burned. He had received
presents from foreign potentates. He had attempted to damage the
character of his Excellency the Prince by declaring on various occasions
that he aspired to the sovereignty of the country. He had held a ciphered
correspondence on the subject with foreign ministers of the Republic. He
had given great offence to the King of Great Britain by soliciting from
him other letters in the sense of those which his Majesty had written in
1613, advising moderation and mutual toleration. He had not brought to
condign punishment the author of 'The Balance', a pamphlet in which an
oration of the English ambassador had been criticised, and aspersions
made on the Order of the Garter. He had opposed the formation of the West
India Company. He had said many years before to Nicolas van Berk that the
Provinces had better return to the dominion of Spain. And in general, all
his proceedings had tended to put the Provinces into a "blood bath."
There was however no accusation that he had received bribes from the
enemy or held traitorous communication with him, or that he had committed
any act of high-treason.
His private letters to Caron and to the ambassadors in Paris, with which
the reader has been made familiar, had thus been ransacked to find
treasonable matter, but the result was meagre in spite of the minute and
microscopic analysis instituted to detect traces of poison in them.
But the most subtle and far-reaching research into past transactions was
due to the Greffier Cornelis Aerssens, father of the Ambassador Francis,
and to a certain Nicolas van Berk, Burgomaster of Utrecht.
The process of tale-bearing, hearsay evidence, gossip, and invention went
back a dozen years, even to the preliminary and secret conferences in
regard to the Treaty of Truce.
Readers familiar with the history of those memorable negotiations are
aware that Cornelis van Aerssens had compromised himself by accepting a
valuable diamond and a bill of exchange drawn by Marquis Spinola on a
merchant in Amsterdam, Henry Beekman by name, for 80,000 ducats. These
were handed by Father Neyen, the secret agent of the Spanish government,
to the Greffier as a prospective reward for his services in furthering
the Truce. He did not reject them, but he informed Prince Maurice and the
Advocate of the transaction. Both diamond and bill of exchange were
subsequently deposited in the hands of the treasurer of the
States-General, Joris de Bie, the Assembly being made officially
acquainted with the whole course of the affair.
It is passing strange that this somewhat tortuous business, which
certainly cast a shade upon the fair fame of the elder Aerssens, and
required him to publish as good a defence as he could against the
consequent scandal, should have furnished a weapon wherewith to strike at
the Advocate of Holland some dozen years later.
But so it was. Krauwels, a relative of Aerssens, through whom Father
Neyen had first obtained access to the Greffier, had stated, so it
seemed, that the monk had, in addition to the bill, handed to him another
draft of Spinola's for 100,000 ducats, to be given to a person of more
consideration than Aerssens. Krauwels did not know who the person was,
nor whether he took the money. He expressed his surprise however that
leading persons in the government "even old and authentic
beggars"--should allow themselves to be so seduced as to accept presents
from the enemy. He mentioned two such persons, namely, a burgomaster at
Delft and a burgomaster at Haarlem. Aerssens now deposed that he had
informed the Advocate of this story, who had said, "Be quiet about it, I
will have it investigated," and some days afterwards on being questioned
stated that he had made enquiry and found there was something in it.
So the fact that Cornelis Aerssens had taken bribes, and that two
burgomasters were strongly suspected by Aerssens of having taken bribes,
seems to have been considered as evidence that Barneveld had taken a
bribe. It is true that Aerssens by advice of Maurice and Barneveld had
made a clean breast of it to the States-General and had given them over
the presents. But the States-General could neither wear the diamond nor
cash the bill of exchange, and it would have been better for the Greffier
not to contaminate his fingers with them, but to leave the gifts in the
monk's palm. His revenge against the Advocate for helping him out of his
dilemma, and for subsequently advancing his son Francis in a brilliant
diplomatic career, seems to have been--when the clouds were thickening
and every man's hand was against the fallen statesman--to insinuate that
he was the anonymous personage who had accepted the apocryphal draft for
100,000 ducats.
The case is a pregnant example of the proceedings employed to destroy the
Advocate.
The testimony of Nicolas van Berk was at any rate more direct.
On the 21st December 1618 the burgomaster testified that the Advocate had
once declared to him that the differences in regard to Divine Worship
were not so great but that they might be easily composed; asking him at
the same time "whether it would not be better that we should submit
ourselves again to the King of Spain." Barneveld had also referred, so
said van Berk, to the conduct of the Spanish king towards those who had
helped him to the kingdom of Portugal. The Burgomaster was unable however
to specify the date, year, or month in which the Advocate had held this
language. He remembered only that the conversation occurred when
Barneveld was living on the Spui at the Hague, and that having been let
into the house through the hall on the side of the vestibule, he had been
conducted by the Advocate down a small staircase into the office.
The only fact proved by the details seems to be that the story had lodged
in the tenacious memory of the Burgomaster for eight years, as Barneveld
had removed from the Spui to Arenberg House in the Voorhout in the year
1611.
No other offers from the King of Spain or the Archdukes had ever been
made to him, said van Berk, than those indicated in this deposition
against the Advocate as coming from that statesman. Nor had Barneveld
ever spoken to him upon such subjects except on that one occasion.
It is not necessary and would be wearisome to follow the unfortunate
statesman through the long line of defence which he was obliged to make,
in fragmentary and irregular form, against these discursive and confused
assaults upon him. A continuous argument might be built up with the
isolated parts which should be altogether impregnable. It is superfluous.
Always instructive to his judges as he swept at will through the record
of nearly half a century of momentous European history, in which he was
himself a conspicuous figure, or expounding the ancient laws and customs
of the country with a wealth and accuracy of illustration which testified
to the strength of his memory, he seemed rather like a sage expounding
law and history to a class of pupils than a criminal defending himself
before a bench of commissioners. Moved occasionally from his austere
simplicity, the majestic old man rose to a strain of indignant eloquence
which might have shaken the hall of a vast assembly and found echo in the
hearts of a thousand hearers as he denounced their petty insults or
ignoble insinuations; glaring like a caged lion at his tormentors, who
had often shrunk before him when free, and now attempted to drown his
voice by contradictions, interruptions, threats, and unmeaning howls.
He protested, from the outset and throughout the proceedings, against the
jurisdiction of the tribunal. The Treaty of Union on which the Assembly
and States-General were founded gave that assembly no power over him.
They could take no legal cognizance of his person or his acts. He had
been deprived of writing materials, or he would have already drawn up his
solemn protest and argument against the existence of the commission. He
demanded that they should be provided for him, together with a clerk to
engross his defence. It is needless to say that the demand was refused.
It was notorious to all men, he said, that on the day when violent hands
were laid upon him he was not bound to the States-General by oath,
allegiance, or commission. He was a well-known inhabitant of the Hague, a
householder there, a vassal of the Commonwealth of Holland, enfeoffed of
many notable estates in that country, serving many honourable offices by
commission from its government. By birth, promotion, and conferred
dignities he was subject to the supreme authority of Holland, which for
forty years had been a free state possessed of all the attributes of
sovereignty, political, religious, judicial, and recognizing no superior
save God Almighty alone.
He was amenable to no tribunal save that of their Mightinesses the States
of Holland and their ordinary judges. Not only those States but the
Prince of Orange as their governor and vassal, the nobles of Holland, the
colleges of justice, the regents of cities, and all other vassals,
magistrates, and officers were by their respective oaths bound to
maintain and protect him in these his rights.
After fortifying this position by legal argument and by an array of
historical facts within his own experience, and alluding to the repeated
instances in which, sorely against his will, he had been solicited and
almost compelled to remain in offices of which he was weary, he referred
with dignity to the record of his past life. From the youthful days when
he had served as a volunteer at his own expense in the perilous sieges of
Haarlem and Leyden down to the time of his arrest, through an unbroken
course of honourable and most arduous political services, embassies, and
great negotiations, he had ever maintained the laws and liberties of the
Fatherland and his own honour unstained.
That he should now in his seventy-second year be dragged, in violation of
every privilege and statute of the country, by extraordinary means,
before unknown judges, was a grave matter not for himself alone but for
their Mightinesses the States of Holland and for the other provinces. The
precious right 'de non evocando' had ever been dear to all the provinces,
cities, and inhabitants of the Netherlands. It was the most vital
privilege in their possession as well in civil as criminal, in secular as
in ecclesiastical affairs.
When the King of Spain in 1567, and afterwards, set up an extraordinary
tribunal and a course of extraordinary trials, it was an undeniable fact,
he said, that on the solemn complaint of the States all princes, nobles,
and citizens not only in the Netherlands but in foreign countries, and
all foreign kings and sovereigns, held those outrages to be the foremost
and fundamental reason for taking up arms against that king, and
declaring him to have forfeited his right of sovereignty.
Yet that monarch was unquestionably the born and accepted sovereign of
each one of the provinces, while the General Assembly was but a gathering
of confederates and allies, in no sense sovereign. It was an unimaginable
thing, he said, that the States of each province should allow their whole
authority and right of sovereignty to be transferred to a board of
commissioners like this before which he stood. If, for example, a general
union of France, England, and the States of the United Netherlands should
be formed (and the very words of the Act of Union contemplated such
possibility), what greater absurdity could there be than to suppose that
a college of administration created for the specific purposes of such
union would be competent to perform acts of sovereignty within each of
those countries in matters of justice, polity, and religion?
It was known to mankind, he said, that when negotiations were entered
into for bestowing the sovereignty of the Provinces on France and on
England, special and full powers were required from, and furnished by,
the States of each individual province.
Had the sovereignty been in the assembly of the States-General, they
might have transferred it of their own motion or kept it for themselves.
Even in the ordinary course of affairs the commissioners from each
province to the General Assembly always required a special power from
their constituents before deciding any matter of great importance.
In regard to the defence of the respective provinces and cities, he had
never heard it doubted, he said, that the states or the magistrates of
cities had full right to provide for it by arming a portion of their own
inhabitants or by enlisting paid troops. The sovereign counts of Holland
and bishops of Utrecht certainly possessed and exercised that right for
many hundred years, and by necessary tradition it passed to the states
succeeding to their ancient sovereignty. He then gave from the stores of
his memory innumerable instances in which soldiers had been enlisted by
provinces and cities all over the Netherlands from the time of the
abjuration of Spain down to that moment. Through the whole period of
independence in the time of Anjou, Matthias, Leicester, as well as under
the actual government, it had been the invariable custom thus to provide
both by land and sea and on the rivers against robbers, rebels, pirates,
mischief-makers, assailing thieves, domestic or foreign. It had been done
by the immortal William the Silent on many memorable occasions, and in
fact the custom was so notorious that soldiers so enlisted were known by
different and peculiar nicknames in the different provinces and towns.
That the central government had no right to meddle with religious matters
was almost too self-evident an axiom to prove. Indeed the chief
difficulty under which the Advocate laboured throughout this whole
process was the monstrous assumption by his judges of a political and
judicial system which never had any existence even in imagination. The
profound secrecy which enwrapped the proceedings from that day almost to
our own and an ignorant acquiescence of a considerable portion of the
public in accomplished facts offer the only explanation of a mystery
which must ever excite our wonder. If there were any impeachment at all,
it was an impeachment of the form of government itself. If language could
mean anything whatever, a mere perusal of the Articles of Union proved
that the prisoner had never violated that fundamental pact. How could the
general government prescribe an especial formulary for the Reformed
Church, and declare opposition to its decrees treasonable, when it did
not prohibit, but absolutely admitted and invited, provinces and cities
exclusively Catholic to enter the Union, guaranteeing to them entire
liberty of religion?
Barneveld recalled the fact that when the stadholdership of Utrecht
thirty years before had been conferred on Prince Maurice the States of
that province had solemnly reserved for themselves the disposition over
religious matters in conformity with the Union, and that Maurice had
sworn to support that resolution.
Five years later the Prince had himself assured a deputation from Brabant
that the States of each province were supreme in religious matters, no
interference the one with the other being justifiable or possible. In
1602 the States General in letters addressed to the States of the
obedient provinces under dominion of the Archdukes had invited them to
take up arms to help drive the Spaniards from the Provinces and to join
the Confederacy, assuring them that they should regulate the matter of
religion at their good pleasure, and that no one else should be allowed
to interfere therewith.
The Advocate then went into an historical and critical disquisition, into
which we certainly have no need to follow him, rapidly examining the
whole subject of predestination and conditional and unconditional
damnation from the days of St. Augustine downward, showing a thorough
familiarity with a subject of theology which then made up so much of the
daily business of life, political and private, and lay at the bottom of
the terrible convulsion then existing in the Netherlands. We turn from it
with a shudder, reminding the reader only how persistently the statesman
then on his trial had advocated conciliation, moderation, and kindness
between brethren of the Reformed Church who were not able to think alike
on one of the subtlest and most mysterious problems that casuistry has
ever propounded.
For fifty years, he said, he had been an enemy of all compulsion of the
human conscience. He had always opposed rigorous ecclesiastical decrees.
He had done his best to further, and did not deny having inspired, the
advice given in the famous letters from the King of Great Britain to the
States in 1613, that there should be mutual toleration and abstinence
from discussion of disputed doctrines, neither of them essential to
salvation. He thought that neither Calvin nor Beza would have opposed
freedom of opinion on those points. For himself he believed that the
salvation of mankind would be through God's unmerited grace and the
redemption of sins though the Saviour, and that the man who so held and
persevered to the end was predestined to eternal happiness, and that his
children dying before the age of reason were destined not to Hell but to
Heaven. He had thought fifty years long that the passion and sacrifice of
Christ the Saviour were more potent to salvation than God's wrath and the
sin of Adam and Eve to damnation. He had done his best practically to
avert personal bickerings among the clergy. He had been, so far as lay in
his power, as friendly to Remonstrants as to Contra-Remonstrants, to
Polyander and Festus Hommius as to Uytenbogaert and Episcopius. He had
almost finished a negotiation with Councillor Kromhout for the peaceable
delivery of the Cloister Church on the Thursday preceding the Sunday on
which it had been forcibly seized by the Contra-Remonstrants.
When asked by one of his judges how he presumed to hope for toleration
between two parties, each of which abhorred the other's opinions, and
likened each other to Turks and devil-worshippers, he replied that he had
always detested and rebuked those mutual revilings by every means in his
power, and would have wished to put down such calumniators of either
persuasion by the civil authority, but the iniquity of the times and the
exasperation of men's humours had prevented him.
Being perpetually goaded by one judge after another as to his
disrespectful conduct towards the King of Great Britain, and asked why
his Majesty had not as good right to give the advice of 1617 as the
recommendation of tolerance in 1613, he scrupulously abstained, as he had
done in all his letters, from saying a disrespectful word as to the
glaring inconsistency between the two communications, or to the hostility
manifested towards himself personally by the British ambassador. He had
always expressed the hope, he said, that the King would adhere to his
original position, but did not dispute his right to change his mind, nor
the good faith which had inspired his later letters. It had been his
object, if possible, to reconcile the two different systems recommended
by his Majesty into one harmonious whole.
His whole aim had been to preserve the public peace as it was the duty of
every magistrate, especially in times of such excitement, to do. He could
never comprehend why the toleration of the Five Points should be a danger
to the Reformed religion. Rather, he thought, it would strengthen the
Church and attract many Lutherans, Baptists, Catholics, and other good
patriots into its pale. He had always opposed the compulsory acceptance
by the people of the special opinions of scribes and doctors. He did not
consider, he said, the difference in doctrine on this disputed point
between the Contra-Remonstrants and Remonstrants as one-tenth the value
of the civil authority and its right to make laws and ordinances
regulating ecclesiastical affairs.
He believed the great bulwark of the independence of the country to be
the Reformed Church, and his efforts had ever been to strengthen that
bulwark by preventing the unnecessary schism which might prove its ruin.
Many questions of property, too, were involved in the question--the
church buildings, lands and pastures belonging to the Counts of Holland
and their successors--the States having always exercised the right of
church patronage--'jus patronatus'--a privilege which, as well as
inherited or purchased advowsons, had been of late flagrantly interfered
with.
He was asked if he had not said that it had never been the intention of
the States-General to carry on the war for this or that religion.
He replied that he had told certain clergymen expressing to him their
opinion that the war had been waged solely for the furtherance of their
especial shade of belief, that in his view the war had been undertaken
for the conservation of the liberties and laws of the land, and of its
good people. Of that freedom the first and foremost point was the true
Christian religion and liberty of conscience and opinion. There must be
religion in the Republic, he had said, but that the war was carried on to
sustain the opinion of one doctor of divinity or another on--differential
points was something he had never heard of and could never believe. The
good citizens of the country had as much right to hold by Melancthon as
by Calvin or Beza. He knew that the first proclamations in regard to the
war declared it to be undertaken for freedom of conscience, and so to
his, own knowledge it had been always carried on.
He was asked if he had not promised during the Truce negotiations so to
direct matters that the Catholics with time might obtain public exercise
of their religion.
He replied that this was a notorious falsehood and calumny, adding that
it ill accorded with the proclamation against the Jesuits drawn up by
himself some years after the Truce. He furthermore stated that it was
chiefly by his direction that the discourse of President Jeannin--urging
on part of the French king that liberty of worship might be granted to
the Papists--was kept secret, copies of it not having been furnished even
to the commissioners of the Provinces.
His indignant denial of this charge, especially taken in connection with
his repeated assertions during the trial, that among the most patriotic
Netherlanders during and since the war were many adherents of the ancient
church, seems marvellously in contradiction with his frequent and most
earnest pleas for liberty of conscience. But it did not appear
contradictory even to his judges nor to any contemporary. His position
had always been that the civil authority of each province was supreme in
all matters political or ecclesiastical. The States-General, all the
provinces uniting in the vote, had invited the Catholic provinces on more
than one occasion to join the Union, promising that there should be no
interference on the part of any states or individuals with the internal
affairs religious or otherwise of the provinces accepting the invitation.
But it would have been a gross contradiction of his own principle if he
had promised so to direct matters that the Catholics should have public
right of worship in Holland where he knew that the civil authority was
sure to refuse it, or in any of the other six provinces in whose internal
affairs he had no voice whatever. He was opposed to all tyranny over
conscience, he would have done his utmost to prevent inquisition into
opinion, violation of domicile, interference with private worship,
compulsory attendance in Protestant churches of those professing the
Roman creed. This was not attempted. No Catholic was persecuted on
account of his religion. Compared with the practice in other countries
this was a great step in advance. Religious tolerance lay on the road to
religious equality, a condition which had hardly been imagined then and
scarcely exists in Europe even to this day. But among the men in history
whose life and death contributed to the advancement of that blessing, it
would be vain to deny that Barneveld occupies a foremost place.
Moreover, it should be remembered that religious equality then would have
been a most hazardous experiment. So long as Church and State were
blended, it was absolutely essential at that epoch for the preservation
of Protestantism to assign the predominance to the State. Should the
Catholics have obtained religious equality, the probable result would
before long have been religious inequality, supremacy of the Catholics in
the Church, and supremacy of the Church over the State. The fruits of the
forty years' war would have become dust and ashes. It would be mere weak
sentimentalism to doubt--after the bloody history which had just closed
and the awful tragedy, then reopening--that every spark of religious
liberty would have soon been trodden out in the Netherlands. The general
onslaught of the League with Ferdinand, Maximilian of Bavaria, and Philip
of Spain at its head against the distracted, irresolute, and wavering
line of Protestantism across the whole of Europe was just preparing.
Rather a wilderness to reign over than a single heretic, was the war-cry
of the Emperor. The King of Spain, as we have just been reading in his
most secret, ciphered despatches to the Archduke at Brussels, was nursing
sanguine hopes and weaving elaborate schemes for recovering his dominion
over the United Netherlands, and proposing to send an army of Jesuits
thither to break the way to the reconquest. To play into his hands then,
by granting public right of worship to the Papists, would have been in
Barneveld's opinion like giving up Julich and other citadels in the
debatable land to Spain just as the great war between Catholicism and
Protestantism was breaking out. There had been enough of burning and
burying alive in the Netherlands during the century which had closed. It
was not desirable to give a chance for their renewal now.
In regard to the Synod, Barneveld justified his course by a simple
reference to the 13th Article of the Union. Words could not more plainly
prohibit the interference by the States-General with the religious
affairs of any one of the Provinces than had been done by that celebrated
clause. In 1583 there had been an attempt made to amend that article by
insertion of a pledge to maintain the Evangelical, Reformed, religion
solely, but it was never carried out. He disdained to argue so
self-evident a truth, that a confederacy which had admitted and
constantly invited Catholic states to membership, under solemn pledge of
noninterference with their religious affairs, had no right to lay down
formulas for the Reformed Church throughout all the Netherlands. The oath
of stadholder and magistrates in Holland to maintain the Reformed
religion was framed before this unhappy controversy on predestination had
begun, and it was mere arrogant assumption on the part of the
Contra-Remonstrants to claim a monopoly of that religion, and to exclude
the Remonstrants from its folds.
He had steadily done his utmost to assuage those dissensions while
maintaining the laws which he was sworn to support. He had advocated a
provincial synod to be amicably assisted by divines from neighbouring
countries. He had opposed a National Synod unless unanimously voted by
the Seven Provinces, because it would have been an open violation of the
fundamental law of the confederacy, of its whole spirit, and of liberty
of conscience. He admitted that he had himself drawn up a protest on the
part of three provinces (Holland, Utrecht, and Overyssel) against the
decree for the National Synod as a breach of the Union, declaring it to
be therefore null and void and binding upon no man. He had dictated the
protest as oldest member present, while Grotius as the youngest had acted
as scribe. He would have supported the Synod if legally voted, but would
have preferred the convocation, under the authority of all the provinces,
of a general, not a national, synod, in which, besides clergy and laymen
from the Netherlands, deputations from all Protestant states and churches
should take part; a kind of Protestant oecumenical council.
As to the enlistment, by the States of a province, of soldiers to keep
the peace and suppress tumults in its cities during times of political
and religious excitement, it was the most ordinary of occurrences. In his
experience of more than forty years he had never heard the right even
questioned. It was pure ignorance of law and history to find it a
novelty.
To hire temporarily a sufficient number of professional soldiers, he
considered a more wholesome means of keeping the peace than to enlist one
portion of the citizens of a town against another portion, when party and
religious spirit was running high. His experience had taught him that the
mutual hatred of the inhabitants, thus inflamed, became more lasting and
mischievous than the resentment caused through suppression of disorder by
an armed and paid police of strangers.
It was not only the right but the most solemn duty of the civil authority
to preserve the tranquillity, property, and lives of citizens committed
to their care. "I have said these fifty years," said Barneveld, "that it
is better to be governed by magistrates than mobs. I have always
maintained and still maintain that the most disastrous, shameful, and
ruinous condition into which this land can fall is that in which the
magistrates are overcome by the rabble of the towns and receive laws from
them. Nothing but perdition can follow from that."
There had been good reason to believe that the French garrisons as well
as some of the train bands could not be thoroughly relied upon in
emergencies like those constantly breaking out, and there had been
advices of invasion by sympathizers from neighbouring countries. In many
great cities the civil authority had been trampled upon and mob rule had
prevailed. Certainly the recent example in the great commercial capital
of the country--where the house of a foremost citizen had been besieged,
stormed, and sacked, and a virtuous matron of the higher class hunted
like a wild beast through the streets by a rabble grossly ignorant of the
very nature of the religious quibble which had driven them mad, pelted
with stones, branded with vilest names, and only saved by accident from
assassination, while a church-going multitude looked calmly on--with
constantly recurring instances in other important cities were sufficient
reasons for the authorities to be watchful.
He denied that he had initiated the proceedings at Utrecht in
conversation with Ledenberg or any one else, but he had not refused, he
said, his approval of the perfectly legal measures adopted for keeping
the peace there when submitted to him. He was himself a born citizen of
that province, and therefore especially interested in its welfare, and
there was an old and intimate friendship between Utrecht and Holland. It
would have been painful to him to see that splendid city in the control
of an ignorant mob, making use of religious problems, which they did not
comprehend, to plunder the property and take the lives of peaceful
citizens more comfortably housed than themselves.
He had neither suggested nor controlled the proceedings at Utrecht. On
the contrary, at an interview with the Prince and Count William on the
13th July, and in the presence of nearly thirty members of the general
assembly, he had submitted a plan for cashiering the enlisted soldiery
and substituting for them other troops, native-born, who should be sworn
in the usual form to obey the laws of the Union. The deputation from
Holland to Utrecht, according to his personal knowledge, had received no
instructions personal or oral to authorize active steps by the troops of
the Holland quota, but to abstain from them and to request the Prince
that they should not be used against the will and commands of the States
of Utrecht, whom they were bound by oath to obey so long as they were in
garrison there.
No man knew better than he whether the military oath which was called
new-fangled were a novelty or not, for he had himself, he said, drawn it
up thirty years before at command of the States-General by whom it was
then ordained. From that day to this he had never heard a pretence that
it justified anything not expressly sanctioned by the Articles of Union,
and neither the States of Holland nor those of Utrecht had made any
change in the oath. The States of Utrecht were sovereign within their own
territory, and in the time of peace neither the Prince of Orange without
their order nor the States-General had the right to command the troops in
their territory. The governor of a province was sworn to obey the laws of
the province and conform to the Articles of the General Union.
He was asked why he wrote the warning letter to Ledenberg, and why he was
so anxious that the letter should be burned; as if that were a deadly
offence.
He said that he could not comprehend why it should be imputed to him as a
crime that he wished in such turbulent times to warn so important a city
as Utrecht, the capital of his native province, against tumults,
disorders, and sudden assaults such as had often happened to her in times
past. As for the postscript requesting that the letter might be put in
the fire, he said that not being a member of, the government of that
province he was simply unwilling to leave a record that "he had been too
curious in aliens republics, although that could hardly be considered a
grave offence."
In regard to the charge that he had accused Prince Maurice of aspiring to
the sovereignty of the country, he had much to say. He had never brought
such accusation in public or private. He had reason to believe
however--he had indeed convincing proofs--that many people, especially
those belonging to the Contra-Remonstrant party, cherished such schemes.
He had never sought to cast suspicion on the Prince himself on account of
those schemes. On the contrary, he had not even formally opposed them.
What he wished had always been that such projects should be discussed
formally, legally, and above board. After the lamentable murder of the
late Prince he had himself recommended to the authorities of some of the
cities that the transaction for bestowing the sovereignty of Holland upon
William, interrupted by his death, "should be completed in favour of
Prince Maurice in despite of the Spaniard." Recently he had requested
Grotius to look up the documents deposited in Rotterdam belonging to this
affair, in order that they might be consulted.
He was asked whether according to Buzenval, the former French ambassador,
Prince Maurice had not declared he would rather fling himself from the
top of the Hague tower than accept the sovereignty. Barneveld replied
that the Prince according to the same authority had added "under the
conditions which had been imposed upon his father;" a clause which
considerably modified the self-denying statement. It was desirable
therefore to search the acts for the limitations annexed to the
sovereignty.
Three years long there had been indications from various sources that a
party wished to change the form of government. He had not heard nor ever
intimated that the Prince suggested such intrigues. In anonymous
pamphlets and common street and tavern conversations the
Contra-Remonstrants were described by those of their own persuasion as
"Prince's Beggars" and the like. He had received from foreign countries
information worthy of attention, that it was the design of the
Contra-Remonstrants to raise the Prince to the sovereignty. He had
therefore in 1616 brought the matter before the nobles and cities in a
communication setting forth to the best of his recollection that under
these religious disputes something else was intended. He had desired ripe
conclusions on the matter, such as should most conduce to the service of
the country. This had been in good faith both to the Prince and the
Provinces, in order that, should a change in the government be thought
desirable, proper and peaceful means might be employed to bring it about.
He had never had any other intention than to sound the inclinations of
those with whom he spoke, and he had many times since that period, by
word of mouth and in writing, so lately as the month of April last
assured the Prince that he had ever been his sincere and faithful servant
and meant to remain so to the end of his life, desiring therefore that he
would explain to him his wishes and intentions.
Subsequently he had publicly proposed in full Assembly of Holland that
the States should ripely deliberate and roundly declare if they were
discontented with the form of government, and if so, what change they
would desire. He had assured their Mightinesses that they might rely upon
him to assist in carrying out their intentions whatever they might be. He
had inferred however from the Prince's intimations, when he had broached
the subject to him in 1617, that he was not inclined towards these
supposed projects, and had heard that opinion distinctly expressed from
the mouth of Count William.
That the Contra-Remonstrants secretly entertained these schemes, he had
been advised from many quarters, at home and abroad. In the year 1618 he
had received information to that effect from France. Certain confidential
counsellors of the Prince had been with him recently to confer on the
subject. He had told them that, if his Excellency chose to speak to him
in regard to it, would listen to his reasoning about it, both as regarded
the interests of the country and the Prince himself, and then should
desire him to propose and advocate it before the Assembly, he would do so
with earnestness, zeal, and affection. He had desired however that, in
case the attempt failed, the Prince would allow him to be relieved from
service and to leave the country. What he wished from the bottom of his
heart was that his Excellency would plainly discover to him the exact
nature of his sentiments in regard to the business.
He fully admitted receiving a secret letter from Ambassador Langerac,
apprising him that a man of quality in France had information of the
intention of the Contra-Remonstrants throughout the Provinces, should
they come into power, to raise Prince Maurice to the sovereignty. He had
communicated on the subject with Grotius and other deputies in order
that, if this should prove to be the general inclination, the affair
might be handled according to law, without confusion or disorder. This,
he said, would be serving both the country and the Prince most
judiciously.
He was asked why he had not communicated directly with Maurice. He
replied that he had already seen how unwillingly the Prince heard him
allude to the subject, and that moreover there was another clause in the
letter of different meaning, and in his view worthy of grave
consideration by the States.
No question was asked him as to this clause, but we have seen that it
referred to the communication by du Agean to Langerac of a scheme for
bestowing the sovereignty of the Provinces on the King of France. The
reader will also recollect that Barneveld had advised the Ambassador to
communicate the whole intelligence to the Prince himself.