There could be no doubt about the views of the majority of the people
who took an interest in active politics. In unmistakable tones they had
declared in favour of unionism. When the new election came they hastened
to the polls and elected into the new assembly a large majority of
unionists. Such was their enthusiasm that several of the more prominent
unionist leaders were elected by seven and twelve electoral colleges at
the same time. In this new assembly the moderate party, which had been
the centre of the first one and which had counted among its members some
of the best-trained political minds, was no longer present. Its leaders
had not considered it worth the while. The unionists in the first
assembly had claimed that the moderates by supporting the federalists
had been directly responsible for the failure of the first constitution.
"All right," the moderates said, "let the unionists now try for
themselves and see what they can do." And the moderates stayed quietly
at home and resumed their law practice. For most of these excellent
gentlemen were lawyers and had offices needing their attention. On the
whole their decision was a wise one.
[Illustration: 1797 BATAVIAN REPUBLIC]
When a serious operation has to be performed, philosophic doctors who
start upon an academic discussion of the patient's chances of recovery
are not wanted. And certainly, since the great day of the abjuration of
King Philip II in the year 1581, the country had not passed through any
such violent crisis as it was now facing. The big French brother,
heartily disgusted with this dilatory business, this trifling away of so
much valuable time, hinted more clearly than ever before that something
definite must be done and must be done quickly. A new government must be
constructed by men who not only strongly believed in themselves but also
in the efficacy of their measures and the sacredness of their cause. If
no such men could be found it were better indeed if France should import
a ready-made constitution and should perform the task for which the
Hollanders themselves seemed so ill fitted.
On September 1, 1797, the second assembly met. The constitutional
committee of twenty-one was duly elected, and the representatives set to
work. So did the patriotic clubs. By constant agitation they reminded
the representatives in The Hague that what the people wanted was a
unionistic constitution, not another mild dilution of the old-fashioned
rule of the regent. Every little outburst of Orangeistic sentiment--a
drunken sailor hurrahing for the Prince, a half-witted peasant mumbling
rumours of another Prussian restoration--was used as an excuse for new
petitions, for ponderous memoranda to be addressed to the national
assembly and to be presented by some patriotic member with a few
well-chosen and trenchant words.
Came the defeat of the fleet by the British--discussed in the next
chapter--and the inevitable cry of treason to increase the general
confusion. The clubs knew all about it. The country was full of traitors
who were secretly devoted to the Prince and wished to return to William
his old dignities and to bring vengeance upon all pure Patriots.
Had not the Reformed Church--that old stronghold of the House of
Orange--had not the Reformed ministers, with pious zeal, been working
upon the religious sentiment of their congregations for weeks and
months, and had they not driven their parishioners to the bookstores to
sign petitions against the separation of Church and State? Indeed they
had! Two hundred thousand men, more than half of the total number of
national voters, had signed those petitions which must prevent their
beloved ministers from losing their old official salaries. Louder and
louder the patriotic minority wailed its doleful lamentations of
treachery; and more and more firm became the tone of the Orangeists and
the reactionaries. You see, dear reader, the revolution by this time had
proved a terrible disappointment to most people. Under the old order of
things there had been great economic and political disasters. But then
there had been a Stadholder to be held responsible and to be made into
the official scapegoat. Enter the Patriot with the advice, "Remove the
Stadholder, establish the sovereignty of the people, and politically,
economically, and socially all will be well." Very well. The Stadholder
had been chased into the desert; the sovereignty of the people had been
established. Then everybody had gone back to his business, trusting that
the people's supreme power, like some marvellous patent medicine, would
automatically take care of all the necessary improvements. Quite
naturally nothing of the sort had happened. Of all the different systems
of government--and even the best of them are but a makeshift--intended
to bring comfort to the average majority, there is nothing more
difficult to institute or to maintain than a sovereignty of all the
people. It needs endless watching. It is a big affair which touches
everybody. It is subject to more attacks from without and from within,
to more onslaughts from destructive political parasites, than any other
form of government. Take the case of the Batavian Republic. First of
all, the hungry exiles of the year 1787 had descended upon its treasury
to still their voracious appetites. Then the serious-minded lawyers had
interfered and had said: "No, we must go about this work slowly and
deliberately. We must first read up on the subject. We must peruse all
the books and all the pamphlets written about assemblies and
constitutions and natural rights, and then we must draw our own
conclusions." Next, the federalists, desiring to save what could be
saved from the wreck of their beloved government, had tried to undo all
the work of the Patriots by their own little insiduous methods.
No, as a general panacea for all popular ailments the sovereignty of a
people had not yet proved itself to be a success. And then, the cost! O
ye gods! the bad assignats--the millions of guilders for the
requisitions of the French army, the other millions to be paid in taxes
for the support of the new government! And the results--the destruction
of the fleet, the loss of almost all the colonies, the complete
annihilation of trade and commerce! While as the only tangible result of
all this effort there were the thirty-one ponderous volumes of the
assemblies' speeches and decrees.
Perhaps, when all was said and done, was it not better to look the facts
boldly in the face and return to the old order of things? Ahem and Aha!
Perhaps it was. It must not be said too loudly, however, for the
patriotic clubs might hear it, and they were a wild lot. "But now look
here, brother citizen, what have you as a plain and sensible man gained
by this assembly and by all this election business? Have you paid a cent
less in taxes? No. Have your East Indian bonds increased in value? No.
They are not worth a cent to-day. Have you found that your commerce was
better protected than before? No. The fleet has never been in a worse
condition than it is now." And so on, and so on, _ad infinitum_. The
patriotic clubs of course knew that such an agitation was abroad
throughout the land. They knew that the trees of liberty had long since
been cut into firewood by shivering citizens; they knew that in many an
attic the housewife had inspected her old supply of Orange ribbons and
had hopefully provided them with fresh mothballs. And they knew that
with another six months of the present bad government their last chance
at power would have gone. Therefore, as apt pupils of the French
Revolution, they bethought themselves of those remedies which the French
used to apply on similar occasions. Had not the great republic of the
south just expurgated her own assembly of all those traitors who under
the guise of popular representatives had secretly professed royalism,
Catholicism, and every sort and variety of anti-revolutionary and
reactionary doctrines? Was not the new French directory there to prove
to all the world that France was still the same old France of five years
ago and had no intention of again submitting to the ancient royalistic
yoke? And had not the Batavian Club celebrated this great event with
much feasting and toasting, and had it not sent delegates to Paris to
compliment the directors upon the brilliant success of their great coup?
Glorious France had given the example. The free Batavians could but
admire and follow. The French _coup d'état_ of the 4th of September,
1797, was followed by the Dutch _coup d'état_ of the 22nd of June, 1798.
But the Dutch one, with all the satisfaction which eventually it caused
the Patriots, was not to be a home-made dish. The ingredients were those
ordinarily used in the best revolutionary kitchens of Paris. They were
cooked under the supervision of the most skilled French cooks, and they
were tasted by the connoisseurs of the French Directorate, who had
promised to savour the dish personally to make it most palatable to the
Dutch taste. Then, sizzling-hot from the French fire, it was carried to
Holland and was served to the astonished assembly right in the middle of
their endless discussions. Why, reader, this appeal to your culinary
senses? I want you to stay for the appearance of this famous _râgout à
la Directoire_. But it will not be ready before another chapter. If now
I hold out hope of a fine dinner to be served after five or six more
pages, I can perhaps make you stay through the next chapter, which will
be as gloomy as a rainy Sunday in Amsterdam.