Who was the wise man who first said that a little power was a dangerous
thing? Oh, Citizen Vreede, who knew more about the price and quality of
cloth than of politics; Brother van Langen, who so dearly loved the
little glory and the fine parties to which his exalted rank as one of
the five members of the executive gave him admission; Rev. Mr. Fynje,
who once used to fill the devout Baptist eye with pious tears and who
now talked for the benefit of the Jacobin gallery--why did ye not
disappear from our little stage when your rôle was over, when the
curtain dropped upon the constitution which you had just given to an
expectant fatherland? It would have been so much better for your own
reputation. It would have been so much better for the reputation of the
good cause which you had so well defended. It would have been so much
better for the country which, at one time, you loved so well.
For listen what happened: In an evil hour the constitutional assembly,
under pressure of its aforementioned leaders, declared itself to be the
representative assembly provided for by their own constitution, and
calmly parcelled out the seats of the upper and the lower chambers
among its own members. At the same time the intermediary executive of
five members was declared to be a permanent body. And of the entire
constitutional assembly only six members had the courage to declare
themselves openly against this grab, whereupon they were promptly
removed from the meeting by the others. Indeed this was a very stupid
thing to do. For it gave all the enemies of union a most welcome chance
to attack the unconstitutional procedure of those who had just made this
self-same constitution, the rules of which they now violated. It gave
them a chance to talk about graft and to insinuate that not love for the
country but love for the twelve thousand a year actuated the five
directors when they staged this unlawful affair. It exploded all the
noble talk of an unselfish love for a united fatherland when at the very
first chance the unionists disregarded their own laws and continued a
situation by which they personally were directly profited.
Furthermore, the glory of their sudden elevation went disastrously to
the heads of several of the men who had played a leading rôle during the
fight against the federalists. It did not take a long time to show the
unionists that their constitution, while theoretically a perfect
success, did not bring all the practical results which had been hoped
for. A country which has been running in a provincial groove for more
than three centuries cannot suddenly forget all its antecedents and
become a well-organized, centralized state. The old officials who had
to be retained until new ones could be trained for these duties were
trained to perform their duties in a certain old-fashioned way. The
constitution asked them to do their new work in a very different way.
The result was confusion and congestion. The directors and the new
secretaries of the different departments worked with great industry.
Their desks, however, were loaded with new labours. All the thousand and
one little items which formerly had been decided in the nearest village
or town now had to be referred to The Hague. And soon it became clear
that the constitution was too good, that it had centralized too much,
and that all its energy marred what it tried to do to such an extent
that now nothing at all was ever accomplished.
The leaders of the unionist party, especially the more ardent of the
Patriots (for although the name began to disappear the party and its
ideals continued), began to suspect bad faith among their opponents. The
chaotic condition of internal affairs, according to them, was due to the
machinations of their federalist and Orangeist opponents. And they began
to lose their heads. They wanted to show their power and make clear to
their enemies that they were not afraid. First of all, they placed the
federalist members who were still detained in the house in the woods
under very strict supervision and talked of weird plots of the country's
enemies, and dismissed all the ancient clerks who on account of their
slowness were suspected of Orangeistic inclination, and ended by
building a foolish temple of liberty on an open place in The Hague,
where they wasted much bad rhetoric and told the astonished populace
that they, the unionists, would stop at nothing if it came to a defence
of what they considered their most holy rights. But when they came to
this point the sun of French approbation began to hide itself behind
dark clouds of disapproval, and a threatening thunder of discontent
began to rumble in far-off Paris.
And now we come to an amusing episode which better than any lengthy
disquisition shows the rapidity with which France was changing from her
stormy revolutionary nature to a well-established and well-regulated
nation of respectable citizens. A year before Delacroix had been sent to
the republic to supplant a French minister who no longer seemed to be
the right man in the right place. And now M. Talleyrand, the estimable
French minister of foreign affairs, did not feel that Delacroix fully
represented the sentiments of the Directorate, and decided to get rid of
him and fill his place with a more suitable personage. As a preliminary
measure he sent to The Hague a certain Champigny-Aubin, whose express
duty it was to spy on Delacroix, and who was to get into touch with the
defeated federalist party, while his chief supported the unionists. For
several weeks an entertaining situation followed. Delacroix played with
the radicals; Aubin played with the conservatives. Now it so happened
that among those who were discontented for one reason or another there
was that stormy petrel, General Daendels. He had acted an important rôle
during the first _coup d'état_, but when it was over he had found the
commandership in chief of the Batavian forces, momentarily placed into
the hands of the French commander, had not been returned to himself. He
did not fancy this rôle of second fiddle at all and became an enemy of
the Dutch directors and the unionistic party. And one fine morning the
directors were informed that their general had left without asking their
permission and that he had been last seen moving rapidly in the
direction of Paris. Now the directors ought to have taken this hint.
They knew all about conspiracies from their own recent experiences, and
they should have surmised that Daendels did not trot to Paris to take in
the sights of that interesting city. But, on the other hand, did they
not daily meet and confer with his Excellency the French minister? Was
not Delacroix their sworn friend and did not the French army support him
in his affection for the present Batavian Government? Yes, indeed. But
the directors could not know that the home government had secretly
disavowed their diplomatic representative and only waited for a suitable
occasion to recall him.
Well, General Daendels safely reached Paris and saw the French
directors. After a few days a request came from The Hague for his arrest
as a deserter. The directors deposited this request in the official
waste-paper basket and quietly finished their arrangements with the
Batavian general; and when, after a few days, he returned to The Hague,
all the details for the second _coup d'état_ had been carefully
discussed and all plans had been made.
Daendels came back just in time to be the guest of honour at a large
dinner which was given by a number of private gentlemen who called
themselves "Friends of the Constitution." At this banquet he appeared in
his habitual rôle of conquering hero, and was the subject of tipsy
ovations. Indeed, so great was the racket of this patriotic party that
the directors who lived nearby could distinctly hear the unholy rumour
of these festivities. And since, for the matter of discipline, it is not
good that a general who has left his post without official leave shall
upon his return be made the subject of a great popular demonstration,
they decided that the next morning the general and the leaders of this
dinner should be put under arrest. _Dis aliter visum._ The very same day
upon which Daendels should have been put into jail, while the directors
were eating their dinner in company with the French minister, who should
enter but General Daendels and a couple of his grenadiers. General
commotion. Tables and chairs were overturned, dishes were thrown to the
floor, and much excellent wine was spilled. A couple of the directors
jumped out of a window and landed in the flowerbeds of the garden. But
the garden was surrounded by more soldiers and the escaping directors
were captured and put under arrest. The others, not wishing to risk
their limbs, appealed to the French minister. But the minister was
unceremoniously told to hold his tongue and mind his own business. He
was then conducted through the door and deposited in the street. Two of
the directors who had escaped during the first commotion hid themselves
in the attic of the building. There they stayed until all searching
parties had failed to discover them, and then managed to make their
escape through a back door.
This violent attack upon the inviolable directors was but one part of
Daendels' program. At the head of his troops he now hastened to the
assembly. The upper chamber had already adjourned for the day, but in
the lower chamber the Speaker defied the invading soldiers from his
chair and started to make a speech. Two of the soldiers took him by the
arms, and the chair was vacated. A number of members, led by Citizen
Middenrigh, the same who two months before had conducted that unionist
procession which dissolved the constitutional assembly of the federalist
majority, heroically defied the soldiers and flatly refused to leave. No
violence was used, but a guard was placed in front of the entrance and
the assembly was left in darkness to talk and argue and harangue as much
as it desired. Tired and hungry, the disgusted members gave up fighting
the inevitable and slowly left the hall. Two dozen of the more prominent
unionists were arrested, and quiet settled down once more upon the
troubled city.
The prisoners were conducted to the house in the woods, and that famous
edifice upon this memorable evening resembled one of those absurd clubs
which American cartoonists delight to create and to fill with members of
their own fancy. For the federalist victims of the 23rd of January and
the unionist victims of the 12th of June sat close at the same table,
and as fellow-jailbirds they partook of the same prison food and slept
under the same roof.
At nine o'clock the second _coup d'état_ was over and everybody went to
bed. In this way ended the most violent day of the Dutch struggle for
constitutional government.
What would Mr. Carlyle have done with a revolution like that?