Citizen Eykenbroek was in the gin business--an excellent and profitable
business which needs close watching, otherwise your workmen will drink
the result of their handiwork and all the profits will be lost. Citizen
Eykenbroek had not watched. Citizen Eykenbroek had failed. Wherefore,
since he had a wife and children, it behooved him to look for another
means of livelihood. Citizen Eykenbroek became a speculator in army
provisions. Again a profitable business, but not a success as a course
in applied ethics. However that be, or perhaps because of all that,
Citizen Eykenbroek was the appointed man to act as intermediary between
the grumbling Dutch Patriots and the French radicals who held sway in
Paris. Armed with credentials given him by the Jacobin Club of
Amsterdam, this honourable citizen, with two fellow-conspirators,
hastened to Paris.
Since as a speculator in army requisitions he often made the trip to the
French capital, his disappearance caused no surprise; and although the
Batavian minister in Paris heard of one shabby individual's arrival, he
saw no occasion to pay any attention to it. Citizen Eykenbroek, who had
not expired when he had told his first lie, did not mind telling a few
fibs, and at once he was very successful with the French radicals. His
first offer of four hundred thousand good Dutch guilders as a reward for
a suitable revolution which would bring all power into the hands of the
unionists he gradually increased until it reached the sum of eight
hundred thousand. Since no one in Holland had given him the right to
offer any monetary reward for the French services, he might easily have
made it a few millions. Having paved the way by creating such visions of
wealth, Eykenbroek set to work. The great grief of the Dutch Jacobins
was the French minister in The Hague. This dignitary, Noel by name, was
not in the least a radical. He understood that in this complacent
republic little could be gained by decapitational measures, but very
much by moderation, the encouragement of trade, the promotion of
commerce; and like his friend Cochon, a year or so before, he strongly
advised against killing the goose that might again lay so many golden
eggs. The Batavian Republic as a thriving commercial commonwealth was a
much better asset to the French Republic than the same republic playing
a game of revolution, which was very distasteful to the richer classes
of the nation. And upon several occasions Noel had firmly reminded his
patriotic Dutch friends that, come what may, he would not stand for any
works of violence. "Remove Noel," therefore, was one of the most
important instructions which Citizen Eykenbroek had taken to Paris upon
his memorable voyage. And behold! the promise of half a million in cash
at once did its work. The French Directorate suddenly remembered that
Citizen Noel had married a Dutch lady. It was not good for France to be
represented by a minister who was attached to the republic through such
tender bonds of personal affection. Therefore, exit Citizen Noel and his
Dutch wife. His successor was a former French minister of foreign
affairs. This worthy gentleman, Delacroix by name, cared little for
Holland or for its imbecile politics. He regarded his post as a mere
stepping-stone to something better (a place in the Directorate perhaps),
and fully decided not to interfere in Dutch politics so long as the
republic paid its debts and strictly obeyed the orders which were issued
from Paris. And since he did not intend to spend too many months in the
abominable climate of the low countries, he left Madame Delacroix at
home and merely brought his secretary, an individual by the name of
Ducagne, who as a spy, a tutor, a newspaper correspondent, and army
contractor knew the republic from one end to the other and could help
the minister pull the necessary strings. The couple appeared in The
Hague during the first part of the year 1797, and their arrival meant
that the coast was clear and that the Patriots could go ahead and
perform the somersault which was to land the republic upon a pair of
unionistic feet. It is an ill defeat which brings nobody any good. The
destruction of the Dutch fleet at Camperdown had brought a sudden
succour to the unionists. "They had predicted this right along." That
most delightful remark, profoundest consolation of all commonplace
souls, became their war cry.
"We have predicted this, of federalists, moderates, and all further
enemies of union. We will predict the same thing unless we get one
country, one treasury, and one navy," and they told their enemies so,
black on white. In a document containing nine articles and signed by
forty-three of the members of the assembly, more extreme unionists laid
down their political beliefs and indicated the remedies through which
they proposed to avert another similar disaster. With the exception of
parliament, which they wished to consist of only one chamber, but which
at the present moment consists of two, their political program contained
the fundamentals upon which (with the addition of a King as Executive)
the modern Kingdom of the Netherlands is based.
The united patriotic clubs loudly applauded this declaration of
unionistic principles. Hisses came from the side of the federalistic
villains. Well-intentioned, moderate gentlemen tried to bring about a
cessation of all passions. "Citizens, citizens, in the fair name of our
great republic, let us go about this matter quietly and deliberately.
Let both parties exercise a little more patience. The commission on the
constitution is now almost ready. Only six short weeks more and we may
expect to hear from it. Just a little more patience."
The French minister was greatly entertained by this little human comedy
which he could see enacted in front of his comfortable windows. He made
no attempt to hide his superior amusement nor to conceal his profound
contempt. Just as in far-off Timbuctoo the French military governor may
give broad hints to the native ruler that such and such a thing must be
done in such and such a way, so did the French minister upon several
occasions at dinners, at his home, and abroad, indicate in the plainest
of terms that the assembly must either adopt a constitution after the
French pattern or must expect to suffer dire consequences. "This
puttering," so his Excellency was pleased to say, "this delaying of
vital matters, this keeping of a whole country in suspense for so many
years, is really unbearable. If the Hollanders cannot make a
constitution for themselves, they had better leave the whole matter to
the care of the French."
The assembly, getting knowledge of these rumours (as had been intended
by their author), was struck by a sudden wave of patriotism. Unanimously
gathered around the imaginary altar of liberty, the members solemnly
decided and openly declared that come what may they would save the
country or die in the attempt. This sounded very well, but since nobody
had asked them to defend or to die, it had little sense. All the country
asked was that at last a constitution be adopted and that the government
be put upon a regular constitutional basis. That, however, was a
different matter, and for the moment the assembly preferred to begin a
lengthy debate upon the delicate question whether the anniversary of the
decapitation of "Citizen Louis Capet should be celebrated by a public
oath of hatred against William of Nassau or not." The unionists said
"yes." The federalists said "no." And so they spent a number of days
upon this very unprofitable discussion, which ended in a vote which put
Citizen Capet and Citizen William both upon the table.
While the assembly was thus agreeably engaged a small number of citizens
of a different stamp, but no less interested in the politics of the day,
were holding meetings in a little room just around the corner from the
assembly. This little group consisted of the secretary of the French
embassy, the commander-in-chief of the Batavian army, and a number of
the leading unionist members of the assembly. Right under the nose of
the dignified assembly, if we may use so colloquial an expression for so
wicked a fact, these conspirators were arranging the last details of
their little _coup d'état_. The French Directorate had expressed its
approval, provided that there was to be no bloodshed. Were the promoters
of the plan quite sure that the federalists would offer no armed
resistance? Did the triumphant unionist party contemplate violent
retribution? "Messieurs," the answer came from The Hague, "compared to
your own glorious revolutionists of sainted memory, even the most
extreme Dutch Jacobins are like innocent lambs. The little plan which
they have originated resembles more a Sunday-school frolic than a real
and genuine revolutionary coup."
"All right," Paris reported back, "go ahead and try."
The scene of the dark comedy which we are now about to describe was laid
in the old princely courtyard. At two o'clock of a cold winter's night
(January 21-22, 1798), a strong detachment of soldiers under command of
Daendels occupied the buildings where the assembly met. At four o'clock
of the morning the six members of the committee on foreign affairs,
under suspicion as aristocrats and enemies of the union, were hauled out
of their beds and, shivering, were informed that they must consider
themselves under arrest and must not leave their homes. Thereupon they
were allowed to go back to bed. At half-after seven the sleepy town
opened its curious shutters, noticed that something unusual was in the
air, and decided to take a day off. At quarter to eight of the morning,
the fifty extreme unionists who were in the plot met at the hotel which
had been formerly occupied by the delegates to the Estates from the good
town of Haarlem. At eight o'clock sharp their procession started upon
its way. Preceded by two cannon, and accompanied and surrounded by
trustworthy civil guards and Batavian regulars, the fifty conspirators,
the president of the assembly in his official sash at the head of them,
walked in state to their meeting hall. At the entrance they were met by
General Daendels in full gold lace. Silently the members entered the
building, and immediately guards were posted to refuse admission to all
those whose names did not appear upon a specially prepared list. The
committee on the constitution, however, was allowed to be present in its
entirety. At nine o'clock the Speaker of the assembly, Middenrigh by
name, in executive session, declared that the country was in danger.
("Hear! hear!") Not an hour was to be lost. (Great excitement.) He
appealed to all members to do their full duty to their country.
Whereupon the members of the assembly, or such of them as had not been
caught by the guard and according to orders had been locked up in the
coatroom, arose from their seats and openly avowed their horror of the
Stadholdership, of federalism, of anarchy, and of aristocracy. At that
moment, however, it was discovered that ten black sheep had strayed into
the meeting. They were given the choice between an immediate retraction
of their federalist sentiments or leaving the room. They left. At eleven
o'clock the executive session was changed into a regular one. The
galleries were immediately filled with noisy holiday-makers. The
federalist members were released from the coatroom and sadly walked
home. They had been informed that from that moment on they had
officially ceased to be members of the assembly, that they must not
leave The Hague until they were permitted to do so by the military
authorities, and that they must not enter into any correspondence with
their partisans outside of the city.
At noon the expurgated assembly set to work. It abolished the old rules
of the house which for three years had provided a parliamentary
procedure which allowed of no practical progress. It abolished all
provincial and county sovereignty. And then it took an even more
important step, and on the afternoon of the 22d of January, of the year
of our Lord 1798, the roaring of many cannon announced to the Batavian
people that the republic possessed its first "Constitutional
Assembly"--a gathering of true unionists who would not disperse until
the constitution of the republic should have become an established fact.
An intermediary body consisting of five members and presided over by a
well-known unionist, Citizen Vreede, was announced to have assumed the
executive duties. The assembly approved, and then it appointed a
committee of seven to proceed with all haste and make a suitable
constitution.
It was now well past the lunch hour, when suddenly there resounded a
great applause among the members of the eager galleries.
Enters Citizen Delacroix, minister plenipotentiary and envoy
extraordinary from the Republic of France. "Long live the glorious
French Republic!" The real author of our little comedy appears to make a
curtain speech. He thanked his audience. Really he was greatly touched
by such a warm reception. Such energy and such resolution as had been
shown that night by the true friends of the fatherland deserved his full
approbation. "Continue, Citizens, on this path! The Directory will
support you, yea, the whole French nation will applaud you and encourage
you on your path toward your high destiny." Loud cheers from the
gallery. The Minister sat down.
Then a speech of thanks by the Speaker of the assembly. You can read it
if you are so inclined on page 125 of the thirty-fifth volume of
Wagenaar, but I have not got the courage to repeat it here. There was a
great deal in it about the enemies of liberty, the noble and magnanimous
French ally, the peoples of Europe, and the humble desire of the
assembly that the Citizen Representative would deign to occupy a seat of
honour in this noble hall. And then the Speaker of the house, having
obtained permission to leave the chair, descended to the floor of the
assembly and among breathless quiet he pressed upon the noble brow of
Citizen Delacroix the imprint of a brotherly kiss.