This little historic comic opera which we are trying to compose has a
great many "leitmotiven." The revolutionary ones are all of foreign make
and importation. There is but one genuinely Dutch tune, the old
"Wilhelmus of Nassau." But this we shall not hear for many, many years,
until it shall be played by a full orchestra, with an extra addition of
warlike bugles and the roaring of many cannon.
For the moment, while the overture is still being performed, we hear
only a mumble of discordant and cacophonous Parisian street tunes. One
melody, however, we shall soon begin to notice uppermost. It is the
"Marseillaise," and it announces the approach of the taxpayer. For
twenty years to come, whatever the general nature of our music, whenever
we hear the strains of this inspiring tune, the villain of our opera
will obey their summons and will make his rounds to collect from rich
and poor with touching impartiality.
On Sunday, the 18th, the Stadholder left the country. On Monday, the
19th, the provisional representatives of the people of Amsterdam made
their little bow to the people from the stoop of the town hall.
On the same day the French recognized the Batavian Republic officially.
On Wednesday, the 21st, Amsterdam called upon fourteen other free cities
to send delegates to discuss the ways and means of establishing a new
government for the aforementioned republic. And on that same day the
representatives of the French Republic unpacked their meagre trunks in
the palace of the old Stadholder and demanded an amount of supplies for
the French army which would have kept the Dutch army in food and clothes
and arms for half a dozen years.
The provisional authorities demurred. The bill was much too high. "But
surely," the French delegates said, "surely you must comply with our
wishes. We have marched all the way from Paris to this land of frogs to
deliver you from a terrible tyrant. You can not expect us to starve." Of
course not, and the supplies were forthcoming.
On the 26th of the same month, of January, the different provisional
delegates from the provisional representative bodies of the different
cities of Holland met in The Hague and sent word to the provincial
Estates that their meeting hall was needed for different and better
purposes. And when the old Estates had moved out the provisional
citizens constituted themselves into an executive and legislative body,
to be known as the "Provisional Representatives of the People of
Holland."
The French authorities, snugly installed in the other wing of the
palace where the provisionals met, were asked for their official
approval. This they condescended to nod across the courtyard. Then the
new representatives set to work. Pieter Paulus, our old friend of the
Rotterdam Admiralty, was elected speaker, an office for which he was
most eminently fitted. In his opening speech he touched all the strings
of the revolutionary harp--peace, quiet, security, equality, safety,
justice, humanity, fairness to all. Those were a few of the basic
principles upon which the everlasting Temple of Civic Righteousness was
to be constructed. After which the provisional meeting set to work, and
in very short order abolished the office of Stadholder, the
Raadpensionaris, the nobility, absolved every one from the old oath of
allegiance, recalled the peace missionaries who were still supposed to
be looking for the French authorities, and ended up with a solemn
declaration of the Rights of Men and a promise immediately to convoke a
national assembly. The other provinces followed Holland's example. In
less than two weeks' time the entire country had dismissed its old
Estates and had provided itself with a new set of rulers. The new
machinery, as long as there was nothing to do but to demolish the ruins
of the old republic, worked beautifully; but when the last stones had
been carted away, then there was a very different story to tell.
Three weeks after the Stadholder had fled, provisional delegates to the
Estates General (the name had been retained for convenience sake) met in
The Hague. They adopted the Declaration of the Rights of Men as their
ethical constitution, abolished for the whole country what the
provisional provincial Estates had already abolished for each individual
part, changed the five different admiralties into one single navy
department, changed the Council of State into a committee-on-the
general-affairs-of-the-Alliances-on-Land, and vested this committee with
the short name with power to make preparations for the calling together
of a National Assembly for the framing of a constitution.
And then--_allons enfants de la Patrie_--and here were those same
citizens of the dilapidated uniform who had called but a moment before,
and they had a little account which they would like to see settled. For
now that the provisional delegates of the new republic were so
conveniently together, would they not kindly oblige with a prompt
payment? Poor Batavian Republic, while your provisional representatives
are making speeches, while your people are eagerly trying to rid
themselves of titles, honours, coats-of-arms, fancy wigs, and short
trousers, while the entire Batavian Republic is stewing in a most
delightful feeling of brotherly love, the good brethren in Paris are
coldly calculating just how much they can take away from the republic
without absolutely ruining her as a dividend-producing community.
The French national convention, in matters of a monetary nature, took no
chances. It sent two of its best financial experts to Holland to make a
close and first-hand inspection of all possible Dutch assets, and to
study the relation between revenue and expenditure and to discover just
how much bleeding this rich old organism could stand. On the 7th of
February these two experts, the Citizens Ramel and Cochon (most fitting
name), arrived in The Hague. In less than two weeks they were ready with
their report. They certainly knew their business. "Do not kill the goose
which lays the golden egg" was the tenor of their message to the French
convention. "Let Holland prosper commercially, and then you shall be
able to take a large sum every year for an unlimited number of years.
But show some clemency for the present. Whatever there used to be of
value in the republic has been sent abroad many months ago and now lies
hidden in safety vaults in Hamburg and London. Reëstablish confidence.
The rich will come back; their property will come back; dividends will
come back. Then go in and take as much as the Dutch capital can stand."
Such was the gist of their advice, but it was very ill received by the
triumvirate which conducted the foreign policy of the French Republic.
They knew little of economics, but much about the pressing needs of the
large armies which were fighting for the cause of Fraternity and
Liberty. Money was needed in Italy and money was needed in Germany, and
the republic must provide it. And to Citizen Paulus and his provisional
assembly there went a summons for one hundred million guilders to be
paid in cash within three months, and for a 3 per cent. loan of a same
amount to be taken up by the Dutch bankers before the year should be
over. Incidentally a vast tract of territory in the southern part of the
republic was demanded to be used for French military purposes.
Here was a bit of constructive statesmanship for the month-old
provisional government. Twenty-five thousand hungry French soldiers
garrisoned in their home cities and a peremptory demand for two millions
and several hundred square miles of land. Forward and backward the
discussion ran. The republic was willing to open her colonies to French
trade, to conclude an offensive and defensive treaty with France, to
reorganize her fleet and use it against England. Not a cent less than a
hundred millions, answered Paris.
The republic must not be driven to extremes, or France will lose all the
influence which it has obtained so far.
"Go ahead," said Paris, "and get rid of us. The moment we shall recall
our troops, the Prussians will come to reëstablish your little
Stadholder the way they did in 1787. Our retreating army shall plunder
all it can, and the rest will be left to the tender mercies of the
Prussian's Hussars. Get rid of us and see what is to become of your
Batavian Republic."
The Provisionals, recognizing the truth of this statement, fearing
another restoration, asked time for deliberation. Then they offered to
pay sixty millions and cede a vast tract of territory. "One hundred
millions in cash and the same amount in a loan," said Paris, "and not a
cent less."
Pieter Paulus (if only he had not died so young) worked hard and
faithfully to try and avert this outrage. At times, as when he declared
that "it were better to submit to the terms of a conqueror than to agree
to such monstrous demands on the part of a professed friend," he rose to
a certain heroism. But he stood alone, and his obstinate fight only
resulted in a slight modification of some of the minor terms. One
hundred millions in cash it was, and one hundred millions in cash it
remained.
On the 16th of May, 1796, the treaty of The Hague was concluded between
the French and the Batavian republics. The French guaranteed the
independence and the liberty of the Batavian Republic and also
guaranteed the abolition of the Stadholdership. Until the conclusion of
a general European peace there should exist an offensive and defensive
treaty between the two countries. Against England this treaty would be
binding forever. Flushing must receive a French garrison. A number of
small cities in the Dutch part of Flanders must become French. The
colonies must be opened to French trade. The Dutch must equip and
maintain a French army of 25,000 men, and fifty million guilders must be
paid outright, with another fifty million to come in regular rates.
The Batavian Republic now could make up a little trial balance. This was
the result:
Credit: the expulsion of one Stadholder and the establishment of a free
republic; 2,365,000 guilders' worth of worthless paper money imported by
the French soldiers. Debit: 50,000,000 in spot cash and 50,000,000 in
future notes; 40,000,000 for French requisitions; 50,000,000 lost
through passed English dividends, lost colonies, ruined trade. Total
gain--Q.E.D.