CHAPTER XXIII

FROM THE INSTALLATION OF WILLIAM I. AS PRINCE SOVEREIGN OF THE

NETHERLANDS TO THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO

A.D. 1814--1815

The regeneration of Holland was rapid and complete. Within four

months, an army of twenty-five thousand men was raised; and in

the midst of financial, judicial, and commercial arrangements,

the grand object of the constitution was calmly and seriously

debated. A committee, consisting of fourteen persons of the first

importance in the several provinces, furnished the result of

three months' labors in the plan of a political code, which was

immediately printed and published for the consideration of the

people at large. Twelve hundred names were next chosen from among

the most respectable householders in the different towns and

provinces, including persons of every religious persuasion, whether

Jews or Christians. A special commission was then formed, who

selected from this number six hundred names; and every housekeeper

was called on to give his vote for or against their election. A

large majority of the six hundred notables thus chosen met at

Amsterdam on the 28th of March, 1814. The following day they

assembled with an immense concourse of people in the great church,

which was splendidly fitted up for the occasion; and then and

there the prince, in an impressive speech, solemnly offered the

constitution for acceptance or rejection. After a few hours'

deliberation, a discharge of artillery announced to the anxious

population that the constitution had been accepted. The numbers

present were four hundred and eighty-three, and the votes as

follows: Ayes, four hundred and fifty-eight; Noes, twenty-five.

There were one hundred and seventeen members absent; several

of these were kept away by unavoidable obstacles. The majority

among them was considered as dissentients; but it was calculated

that if the whole body of six hundred had voted, the adoption

of the constitution would have been carried by a majority of

five-sixths. The dissentients chiefly objected to the power of

declaring war and concluding treaties of peace being vested in

the sovereign. Some individuals urged that the Protestant interest

was endangered by the admission of persons of every persuasion

to all public offices; and the Catholics complained that the

state did not sufficiently contribute to the support of their

religious establishments.

Such objections as these were to be expected, from individual

interest or sectarian prejudices. But they prove that the whole

plan was fairly considered and solemnly adopted; that so far from

being the dictation of a government, it was the freely chosen

charter of the nation at large, offered and sworn to by the prince,

whose authority was only exerted in restraining and modifying

the overardent generosity and confidence of the people.

Only one day more elapsed before the new sovereign was solemnly

inaugurated, and took the oath prescribed by the constitution:

"I swear that first and above all things I will maintain the

constitution of the United Netherlands, and that I will promote,

to the utmost of my power, the independence of the state and

the liberty and prosperity of its inhabitants." In the eloquent

simplicity of this pledge, the Dutch nation found an ample guarantee

for their freedom and happiness. With their characteristic wisdom

and moderation, they saw that the obligation it imposed embraced

everything they could demand; and they joined in the opinion

expressed by the sovereign in his inaugural address, that "no

greater degree of liberty could be desired by rational subjects,

nor any larger share of power by the sovereign, than that allotted

to them respectively by the political code."

While Holland thus resumed its place among free nations, and France

was restored to the Bourbons by the abdication of Napoleon, the

allied armies had taken possession of and occupied the remainder of

the Low Countries, or those provinces distinguished by the name of

Belgium (but then still forming departments of the French empire),

and the provisional government was vested in Baron Vincent, the

Austrian general. This choice seemed to indicate an intention

of restoring Austria to her ancient domination over the country.

Such was certainly the common opinion among those who had no means

of penetrating the secrets of European policy at that important

epoch. It was, in fact, quite conformable to the principle of

_statu_quo_ante_bellum_, adopted toward France. Baron Vincent

himself seemed to have been impressed with the false notion;

and there did not exist a doubt throughout Belgium of the

re-establishment of the old institutions.

But the intentions of the allied powers were of a nature far

different. The necessity of a consolidated state capable of offering

a barrier to French aggression on the Flemish frontier was evident

to the various powers who had so long suffered from its want. By

England particularly, such a field was required for the operations

of her armies; and it was also to the interest of that nation that

Holland, whose welfare and prosperity are so closely connected

with her own, should enjoy the blessings of national independence

and civil liberty, guaranteed by internal strength as well as

friendly alliances.

The treaty of Paris (30th May, 1814), was the first act which

gave an open manifestation of this principle. It was stipulated

by its sixth article; that "Holland, placed under the sovereignty

of the House of Orange, should receive an increase of territory."

In this was explained the primitive notion of the creation of the

kingdom of the Netherlands, based on the necessity of augmenting

the power of a nation which was destined to turn the balance

between France and Germany. The following month witnessed the

execution of the treaty of London, which prescribed the precise

nature of the projected increase.

It was wholly decided, without subjecting the question to the

approbation of Belgium, that that country and Holland should form

one United State; and the rules of government in the chief branches

of its administration were completely fixed. The Prince of Orange

and the plenipotentiaries of the great allied powers covenanted

by this treaty: first, that the union of the two portions forming

the kingdom of the Netherlands should be as perfect as possible,

forming one state, governed in conformity with the fundamental law

of Holland, which might be modified by common consent; secondly,

that religious liberty, and the equal right of citizens of all

persuasions to fill all the employments of the state, should

be maintained; thirdly, that the Belgian provinces should be

fairly represented in the assembly of the states-general, and

that the sessions of the states in time of peace should be held

alternately in Belgium and in Holland; fourthly and fifthly, that

all the commercial privileges of the country should be common

to the citizens at large; that the Dutch colonies should be

considered as belonging equally to Belgium; and, finally, that

the public debt of the two countries, and the expenses of its

interest, should be borne in common.

We shall now briefly recapitulate some striking points in the

materials which were thus meant to be amalgamated. Holland, wrenched

from the Spanish yoke by the genius and courage of the early

princes of Orange, had formed for two centuries an independent

republic, to which the extension of maritime commerce had given

immense wealth. The form of government was remarkable. It was

composed of seven provinces, mutually independent of each other.

These provinces possessed during the Middle Ages constitutions

nearly similar to that of England: a sovereign with limited power;

representatives of the nobles and commons, whose concurrence

with the prince was necessary for the formation of laws; and,

finally, the existence of municipal privileges, which each town

preserved and extended by means of its proper force. This state

of things had known but one alteration--but that a mighty one--the

forfeiture of Philip II. at the latter end of the sixteenth century,

and the total abolition of monarchical power.

The remaining forms of the government were hardly altered; so

that the state was wholly regulated by its ancient usages; and,

like some Gothic edifice, its beauty and solidity were perfectly

original, and different from the general rules and modern theories

of surrounding nations. The country loved its liberty such as

it found it, and not in the fashion of any Utopian plan traced

by some new-fangled system of political philosophy. Inherently

Protestant and commercial, the Dutch abhorred every yoke but

that of their own laws, of which they were proud even in their

abuse. They held in particular detestation all French customs,

in remembrance of the wretchedness they had suffered from French

tyranny; they had unbounded confidence in the House of Orange,

from long experience of its hereditary virtues. The main strength

of Holland was, in fact, in its recollections; but these, perhaps,

generated a germ of discontent, in leading it to expect a revival

of all the influence it had lost, and was little likely to recover,

in the total change of systems and the variations of trade. There

nevertheless remained sufficient capital in the country, and the

people were sufficiently enlightened, to give just and extensive

hope for the future which now dawned on them. The obstacles offered

by the Dutch character to the proposed union were chiefly to be

found in the dogmatical opinions, consequent on the isolation of

the country from all the principles that actuated other states, and

particularly that with which it was now joined: while long-cherished

sentiments of opposition to the Catholic religion was little

likely to lead to feelings of accommodation and sympathy with

its new fellow-citizens.

The inhabitants of Belgium, accustomed to foreign domination, were

little shocked by the fact of the allied powers having disposed

of their fate with consulting their wishes. But they were not so

indifferent to the double discovery of finding themselves the

subjects of a Dutch and a protestant king. Without entering at

large into any invidious discussion on the causes of the natural

jealousy which they felt toward Holland, it may suffice to state

that such did exist, and in no very moderate degree. The countries

had hitherto had but little community of interests with each

other; and they formed elements so utterly discordant as to afford

but slight hope that they would speedily coalesce. The lower

classes of the Belgian population were ignorant as well as

superstitious (not that these two qualities are to be considered

as inseparable); and if they were averse to the Dutch, they were

perhaps not more favorably disposed to the French and Austrians.

The majority of the nobles may be said to have leaned more, at

this period, to the latter than to either of the other two peoples.

But the great majority of the industrious and better informed

portions of the middle orders felt differently from the other

two, because they had found tangible and positive advantages in

their subjection to France, which overpowered every sentiment

of political degradation.

We thus see there was little sympathy between the members of the

national family. The first glance at the geographical position

of Holland and Belgium might lead to a belief that their interests

were analogous. But we have traced the anomalies in government

and religion in the two countries, which led to totally different

pursuits and feelings. Holland had sacrificed manufactures to

commerce. The introduction, duty free, of grain from the northern

parts of Europe, though checking the progress of agriculture,

had not prevented it to flourish marvellously, considering this

obstacle to culture; and, faithful to their traditional notions,

the Dutch saw the elements of well-being only in that liberty of

importation which had made their harbors the marts and magazines

of Europe. But the Belgian, to use the expressions of an acute

and well-informed writer, "restricted in the thrall of a less

liberal religion, is bounded in the narrow circle of his actual

locality. Concentrated in his home, he does not look beyond the

limits of his native land, which he regards exclusively. Incurious,

and stationary in a happy existence, he has no interest in what

passes beyond his own doors."

Totally unaccustomed to the free principles of trade, so cherished

by the Dutch, the Belgians had found under the protection of the

French custom-house laws, an internal commerce and agricultural

advantages which composed their peculiar prosperity. They found

a consumption for the produce of their well-cultivated lands, at

high prices, in the neighboring provinces of France. The webs

woven by the Belgian peasantry, and generally all the manufactures

of the country, met no rivalry from those of England, which were

strictly prohibited; and being commonly superior to those of

France, the sale was sure and the profit considerable.

Belgium was as naturally desirous of the state of things as Holland

was indifferent to it; but in could only have been accomplished

by the destruction of free trade, and the exclusive protection

of internal manufactures. Under such discrepancies as we have

thus traced in religion, character, and local interests, the

two countries were made one; and on the new monarch devolved

the hard and delicate task of reconciling each party in the

ill-assorted match, and inspiring them with sentiments of mutual

moderation.

Under the title of governor-general of the Netherlands (for his

intended elevation to the throne and the definitive junction of

Holland and Belgium were still publicly unknown), the Prince of

Orange repaired to his new state. He arrived at Brussels in the

month of August, 1814, and his first effort was to gain the hearts

and the confidence of the people, though he saw the nobles and

the higher orders of the inferior classes (with the exception of

the merchants) intriguing all around him for the re-establishment

of the Austrian power. Petitions on this subject were printed and

distributed; and the models of those anti-national documents may

still be referred to in a work published at the time.[8]

[Footnote 8: History of the Low Countries, by St. Genoist.]

As soon as the moment came for promulgating the decision of the

sovereign powers as to the actual extent of the new kingdom--that

is to say, in the month of February, 1815--the whole plan was made

public; and a commission, consisting of twenty-seven members,

Dutch and Belgian, was formed, to consider the modifications

necessary in the fundamental law of Holland, in pursuance of

the stipulation of the treaty of London. After due deliberation

these modifications were formed, and the great political pact

was completed for the final acceptance of the king and people.

As a document so important merits particular consideration, in

reference to the formation of the new monarchy, we shall briefly

condense the reasonings of the most impartial and well-informed

classes in the country on the constitution now about to be framed.

Every one agreed that some radical change in the whole form of

government was necessary, and that its main improvement should

be the strengthening of the executive power. That possessed by

the former stadtholders of Holland was often found to be too much

for the chief of a republic, too little for the head of a monarchy.

The assembly of the states-general, as of old constructed, was

defective in many points; in none so glaringly as in that condition

which required unanimity in questions of peace or war, and in the

provision, from which they had no power to swerve, that all the

taxes should be uniform. Both these stipulations were, of sheer

necessity, continually disregarded; so that the government could be

carried on at all only by repeated violations of the constitution.

In order to excuse measures dictated by this necessity, each

stadtholder was perpetually obliged to form partisans, and he

thus became the hereditary head of a faction. His legitimate

power was trifling: but his influence was capable of fearful

increase; for the principle which allowed him to infringe the

constitution, even on occasions of public good, might be easily

warped into a pretext for encroachments that had no bounds but

his own will.

Besides, the preponderance of the deputies from the commercial

towns in the states-general caused the others to become mere

ciphers in times of peace; only capable of clogging the march

of affairs, and of being, on occasions of civil dissensions,

the mere tools of whatever party possessed the greatest tact

in turning them to their purpose. Hence a wide field was open

to corruption. Uncertainty embarrassed every operation of the

government. The Hague became an arena for the conflicting intrigues

of every court in Europe. Holland was dragged into almost every

war; and thus, gradually weakened from its rank among independent

nations, it at length fell an easy prey to the French invaders.

To prevent the recurrence of such evils as those, and to establish

a kingdom on the solid basis of a monarchy, unequivocal in its

essence yet restrained in its prerogative, the constitution we

are now examining was established. According to the report of

the commissioners who framed it, "It is founded on the manners

and habits of the nation, on its public economy and its old

institutions, with a disregard for the ephemeral constitutions

of the age. It is not a mere abstraction, more or less ingenious,

but a law adapted to the state of the country in the nineteenth

century. It did not reconstruct what was worn out by time; but

it revived all that was worth preserving. In such a system of

laws and institutions well adapted to each other, the members

of the commission belonging to the Belgian provinces recognized

the basis of their ancient charters, and the principles of their

former liberty. They found no difficulty in adapting this law,

so as to make it common to the two nations, united by ties which

had been broken only for their own misfortune and that of Europe,

and which it was once more the interest of Europe to render

indissoluble."

The news of the elevation of William I. to the throne was received

in the Dutch provinces with great joy, in as far as it concerned

him personally; but a joy considerably tempered by doubt and

jealousy, as regarded their junction with a country sufficiently

large to counterbalance Holland, oppose interests to interests,

and people to people. National pride and oversanguine expectations

prevented a calm judgment on the existing state of Europe, and on

the impossibility of Holland, in its ancient limits, maintaining

the influence which it was hoped it would acquire.

In Belgium the formation of the new monarchy excited the most

lively sensation. The clergy and the nobility were considerably

agitated and not slightly alarmed; the latter fearing the resentment

of the king for their avowed predilection in favor of Austria,

and perceiving the destruction of every hope of aristocratical

domination. The more elevated of the middle clases also saw an

end to their exclusive occupation of magisterial and municipal

employments. The manufacturers, great and small, saw the ruin of

monopoly staring them in the face. The whole people took fright

at the weight of the Dutch debt, which was considerably greater

than that of Belgium. No one seemed to look beyond the present

moment. The advantage of colonial possessions seemed remote and

questionable to those who possessed no maritime commerce; and

the pride of national independence was foreign to the feelings

of those who had never yet tasted its blessings.

It was in this state of public feeling that intelligence was

received in March, 1815, of the reappearance in France of the

emperor Napoleon. At the head of three hundred men he had taken

the resolution, without parallel even among the grandest of his

own powerful conceptions, of invading a country containing thirty

millions of people, girded by the protecting armies of coalesced

Europe, and imbued, beyond all doubt, with an almost general

objection to the former despot who now put his foot on its shores,

with imperial pretensions only founded on the memory of his bygone

glory. His march to Paris was a miracle; and the vigor of his

subsequent measures redeems the ambitious imbecility with which

he had hurried on the catastrophe of his previous fall.

The flight of Louis XVIII. from Paris was the sure signal to

the kingdom of the Netherlands, in which he took refuge, that it

was about to become the scene of another contest for the life or

death of despotism. Had the invasion of Belgium, which now took

place, been led on by one of the Bourbon family, it is probable

that the priesthood, the people, and even the nobility, would

have given it not merely a negative support. But the name of

Napoleon was a bugbear for every class; and the efforts of the

King and government, which met with most enthusiastic support

in the northern provinces, were seconded with zeal and courage

by the rest of the kingdom.

The national force was soon in the field, under the command of

the Prince of Orange, the king's eldest son, and heir-apparent

to the throne for which he now prepared to fight. His brother,

Prince Frederick, commanded a division under him. The English army,

under the duke of Wellington, occupied Brussels and the various

cantonments in its neighborhood; and the Prussians, commanded by

Prince Blucher, were in readiness to co-operate with their allies

on the first movement of the invaders.

Napoleon, hurrying from Paris to strike some rapid and decisive

blow, passed the Sambre on the 15th of June, at the head of the

French army, one hundred and fifty thousand strong, driving the

Prussians before him beyond Charleroi and back on the plain of

Fleurus with some loss. On the 16th was fought the bloody battle

of Ligny, in which the Prussians sustained a decided defeat; but

they retreated in good order on the little river Lys, followed

by Marshal Grouchy with thirty thousand men detached by Napoleon

in their pursuit. On the same day the British advanced position

at Quatre Bras, and the _corps_d'armée_ commanded by the Prince

of Orange, were fiercely attacked by Marshal Ney; a battalion of

Belgian infantry and a brigade of horse artillery having been

engaged in a skirmish the preceding evening at Frasnes with the

French advanced troops.

The affair of Quatre Bras was sustained with admirable firmness

by the allied English and Netherland forces, against an enemy

infinitely superior in number, and commanded by one of the best

generals in France. The Prince of Orange, with only nine thousand

men, maintained his position till three o'clock in the afternoon,

despite the continual attacks of Marshal Ney, who commanded the

left of the French army, consisting of forty-three thousand men.

But the interest of this combat, and the details of the loss

in killed and wounded, are so merged in the succeeding battle,

which took place on the 18th, that they form in most minds a

combination of exploits which the interval of a day can scarcely

be considered to have separated.

The 17th was occupied by a retrograde movement of the allied

army, directed by the duke of Wellington, for the purpose of

taking its stand on the position he had previously fixed on for

the pitched battle, the decisive nature of which his determined

foresight had anticipated. Several affairs between the French

and English cavalry took place during this movement; and it is

pretty well established that the enemy, flushed with the victory

over Blucher of the preceding day, were deceived by this short

retreat of Wellington, and formed a very mistaken notion of its

real object, or of the desperate reception destined for the morrow's

attack.

The battle of Waterloo has been over and over described and

profoundly felt, until its records may be said to exist in the

very hearts and memories of the nations. The fiery valor of the

assault, and the unshakable firmness of the resistance, are perhaps

without parallel in the annals of war. The immense stake depending

on the result, the grandeur of Napoleon's isolated efforts against

the flower of the European forces, and the awful responsibility

resting on the head of their great leader, give to this conflict

a romantic sublimity, unshared by all the manoeuvring of science

in a hundred commonplace combats of other wars. It forms an epoch

in the history of battles. It is to the full as memorable, as an

individual event, as it is for the consequences which followed

it. It was fought by no rules, and gained by no tactics. It was a

fair stand-up fight on level ground, where downright manly courage

was alone to decide the issue. This derogates in nothing from the

splendid talents and deep knowledge of the rival commanders.

Their reputation for all the intricate qualities of generalship

rests on the broad base of previous victories. This day was to

be won by strength of nerve and steadiness of heart; and a moral

grandeur is thrown over its result by the reflection that human

skill had little to do where so much was left to Providence.

We abstain from entering on details of the battle. It is enough

to state that throughout the day the troops of the Netherlands

sustained the character for courage which so many centuries had

established. Various opinions have gone forth as to the conduct of

the Belgian troops on this memorable occasion. Isolated instances

were possibly found, among a mass of several thousands, of that

nervous weakness which neither the noblest incitements nor the

finest examples can conquer. Old associations and feelings not

effaced might have slackened the efforts of a few, directed against

former comrades or personal friends whom the stern necessity of

politics had placed in opposing ranks. Raw troops might here

and there have shrunk from attacks the most desperate on record;

but that the great principle of public duty, on grounds purely

national, pervaded the army, is to be found in the official reports

of its loss; two thousand and fifty-eight men killed and one

thousand nine hundred and thirty-six wounded prove indelibly

that the troops of the Netherlands had their full share in the

honor of the day. The victory was cemented by the blood of the

Prince of Orange, who stood the brunt of the fight with his gallant

soldiers. His conduct was conformable to the character of his

whole race, and to his own reputation during a long series of

service with the British army in the Spanish peninsula. He stood

bravely at the head of his troops during the murderous conflict;

or, like Wellington, in whose school he was formed and whose

example was beside him, rode from rank to rank and column to

column, inspiring his men by the proofs of his untiring courage.

Several anecdotes are related of the prince's conduct throughout

the day. One is remarkable as affording an example of those pithy

epigrams of the battlefield with which history abounds, accompanied

by an act that speaks a fine knowledge of the soldier's heart. On

occasion of one peculiarly desperate charge, the prince, hurried

on by his ardor, was actually in the midst of the French, and was

in the greatest danger; when a Belgian battalion rushed forward,

and, after a fierce struggle, repulsed the enemy and disengaged the

prince. In the impulse of his admiration and gratitude, he tore

from his breast one of those decorations gained by his own conduct

on some preceding occasion, and flung it among the battalion,

calling out, "Take it, take it, my lads! you have all earned it!"

This decoration was immediately grappled for, and tied to the

regimental standard, amid loud shouts of "Long live the prince!"

and vows to defend the trophy, in the very utterance of which

many a brave fellow received the stroke of death.

A short time afterward, and just half an hour before that terrible

charge of the whole line, which decided the victory, the prince

was struck by a musket-ball in the left shoulder. He was carried

from the field, and conveyed that evening to Brussels, in the

same cart with one of his wounded aides-de-camp, supported by

another, and displaying throughout as much indifference to pain

as he had previously shown contempt of danger.

The battle of Waterloo consolidated the kingdom of the Netherlands.

The wound of the Prince of Orange was perhaps one of the most

fortunate that was ever received by an individual, or sympathized

in by a nation. To a warlike people, wavering in their allegiance,

this evidence of the prince's valor acted like a talisman against

disaffection. The organization of the kingdom was immediately

proceeded on. The commission, charged with the revision of the

fundamental law, and the modification required by the increase

of territory, presented its report on the 31st of July. The

inauguration of the king took place at Brussels on the 21st of

September, in presence of the states-general: and the ceremony

received additional interest from the appearance of the sovereign

supported by his two sons who had so valiantly fought for the

rights he now swore to maintain; the heir to the crown yet bearing

his wounded arm in a scarf, and showing in his countenance the

marks of recent suffering.

The constitution was finally accepted by the nation, and the

principles of the government were stipulated and fixed in one

grand view--that of the union, and, consequently, the force of

the new state.

It has been asked by a profound and sagacious inquirer, or at

least the question is put forth on undoubted authority in his

name, "Why did England create for herself a difficulty, and what

will be by and by a natural enemy, in uniting Holland and Belgium,

in place of managing those two immense resources to her commerce

by keeping them separate? For Holland, without manufactures,

was the natural mart for those of England, while Belgium under

an English prince had been the route for constantly inundating

France and Germany."

So asked Napoleon, and England may answer and justify her conduct

so impugned, on principles consistent with the general wishes

and the common good of Europe. The discussion of the question

is foreign to our purpose, which is to trace the circumstances,

not to argue on the policy, that led to the formation of the

Netherlands as they now exist. But it appears that the different

integral parts of the nation were amalgamated from deep-formed

designs for their mutual benefit. Belgium was not given to Holland,

as the already-cited article of the treaty of Paris might at

first sight seem to imply; nor was Holland allotted to Belgium.

But they were grafted together, with all the force of legislative

wisdom; not that one might be dominant and the other oppressed,

but that both should bend to form an arch of common strength,

able to resist the weight of such invasions as had perpetually

periled, and often crushed, their separate independence.

SUPPLEMENTARY CHAPTER

A.D. 1815--1899

In the preceding chapters we have seen the history of Holland

carried down to the treaty which joined together what are now

known as the separate countries of Holland and Belgium. And it is

at this point that the interest of the subject for the historian

practically ceases. The historian differs from the annalist in

this--that he selects for treatment those passages in the career

of nations which possess a dramatic form and unity, and therefore

convey lessons for moral guidance, or for constituting a basis

for reasonable prognostications of the future. But there are in

the events of the world many tracts of country (as we might term

them) which have no special character or apparent significance, and

which therefore, though they may extend over many years in time,

are dismissed with bare mention in the pages of the historian;

just as, in travelling by rail, the tourist will keep his face

at the window only when the scenery warrants it; at other times

composing himself to other occupations.

The scenery of Dutch history has episodes as stirring and instructive

as those of any civilized people since history began; but it

reached its dramatic and moral apogee when the independence of

the United Netherlands was acknowledged by Spain. The Netherlands

then reached their loftiest pinnacle of power and prosperity;

their colonial possessions were vast and rich; their reputation

as guardians of liberty and the rights of man was foremost in the

world. But further than this they could not go; and the moment

when a people ceases to advance may generally be regarded as

the moment when, relatively speaking at least, it begins to go

backward. The Dutch could in no sense become the masters of Europe;

not only was their domain too small, but it was geographically at

a disadvantage with the powerful and populous nations neighboring

it, and it was compelled ever to fight for its existence against

the attacks of nature itself. The stormy waves of the North Sea

were ever moaning and threatening at the gates, and ever and anon

a breach would be made, and the labor of generations annulled.

Holland could never enter upon a career of conquest, like France

or Russia; neither could she assume the great part which Britain

has played; for although the character of the Dutchmen is in

many respects as strong and sound as that of the English, and

in some ways its superior, yet the Dutch had not been dowered

with a sea-defended isle for their habitation, which might enable

them to carry out enterprises abroad without the distraction and

weakness involved in maintaining adequate guards at home. They

were mighty in self-defence and in resistance against tyranny;

and they were unsurpassed in those virtues and qualities which go

to make a nation rich and orderly; but aggression could not be

for them. They took advantage of their season of power to confirm

themselves in the ownership of lands in the extreme East and in

the West, which should be a continual source of revenue; but

they could do no more; and they wasted not a little treasure and

strength in preserving what they had gained, or a part of it, from

the grasp of others. But this was the sum of their possibility;

they could not presume to dictate terms to the world; and the

consequence was that they gradually ceased to be a considered

factor in the European problem. In some respects, their territorial

insignificance, while it prevented them from aggressive action,

preserved them from aggression; their domain was not worth

conquering, and again its conquest could not be accomplished

by any nation without making others uneasy and jealous. They

became, like Switzerland, and unlike Poland and Hungary, a neutral

region, which it was for the interest of Europe at large to let

alone. None cared to meddle with them; and, on the other hand,

they had native virtue and force enough to resist being absorbed

into other peoples; the character of the Dutch is as distinct

to-day as ever it had been. Their language, their literature,

their art, and their personal traits, are unimpaired. They are,

in their own degree, remarkably prosperous and comfortable; and

they have the good sense to be content with their condition.

They are liberal and progressive, and yet conservative; they are

even with modern ideas as regards education and civilization,

and yet the tourist within their boundaries continually finds

himself reminded of their past. The costumes and the customs of

the mass of the people have undergone singularly little change;

they mind their own affairs, and are wisely indifferent to the

affairs of others. Both as importers and as exporters they are

useful to the world, and if the prophecies of those who foretell

a general clash of the European powers should be fulfilled, it

is likely that the Dutch will be onlookers merely, or perhaps

profit by the misfortunes of their neighbors to increase their

own well-being.

As we have seen in the foregoing pages, Belgium did not unite

with the Hollanders in their revolt of the sixteenth century;

but appertained to Burgundy, and was afterward made a domain

of France. But after Napoleon had been overthrown at Waterloo,

the nations who had been so long harried and terrorized by him

were not satisfied with banishing the ex-conqueror to his island

exile, but wished to present any possibility of another Napoleon

arising to renew the wars which had devastated and impoverished

them. Consequently they agreed to make a kingdom which might act

as a buffer between France and the rest of Europe; and to this

end they decreed that Belgium and Holland should be one. But in

doing this, the statesmen or politicians concerned failed to take

into account certain factors and facts which must inevitably, in

the course of time, undermine their arrangements. Nations cannot

be arbitrarily manufactured to suit the convenience of others.

There is a chemistry in nationalities which has laws of its own,

and will not be ignored. Between the Hollanders and the Belgians

there existed not merely a negative lack of homogeneity, but a

positive incompatibility. The Hollanders had for generations been

fighters and men of enterprise; the Belgians had been the appanage

of more powerful neighbors. The Hollanders were Protestants; the

Belgians were adherents of the Papacy. The former were seafarers;

the latter, farmers. The sympathies or affiliations of the Dutch

were with the English and the Germans; those of the Belgians

were with the French. Moreover, the Dutch were inclined to act

oppressively toward the Belgians, and this disposition was made

the more irksome by the fact that King William was a dull, stupid,

narrow and very obstinate sovereign, who thought that to have a

request made of him was reason sufficient for resisting it.

But over and above all these causes for disintegration of the new

kingdom lay facts of the broadest significance and application.

The arbiters of 1815 did not sufficiently apprehend the meaning of

the French Revolution. The wars of Napoleon had made them forget

it; his power had seemed so much more formidable and positive

that the deeper forces which had brought about the events of the

last decade of the eighteenth century were ignored. But they

still continued profoundly active, and were destined ere long

to announce themselves anew. They were in truth the generative

forces of the nineteenth century.

They have not yet spent themselves; but as we look back upon

the events of the past eighty or ninety years, we perceive what

vast differences there are between what we were in Napoleon's day

and what we are now. A long period of intrigue and misrule, of

wars and revolutions, has been followed by material, mental and

social changes affecting every class of the people, and especially

that class which had hitherto been almost entirely unconsidered.

The wars of this century have been of another character than

those of the past; they have not involved basic principles of

human association, but have been the result of attempts to gain

comparatively trifling political advantages, or else were the

almost inevitable consequence of adjustments of national relations.

Several small new kingdoms have appeared; but their presence

has not essentially altered the political aspect of Europe. It

is the conquests of mind that have been, in this century, far

more important than the struggles of arms. Steam, as applied

to locomotion on sea and land, and to manufactures, has brought

about modifications in social and industrial conditions that

cannot be exaggerated. Steamboats and railroads have not only

given a different face to commerce and industry, but they have

united the world in bonds of mutual knowledge and sympathy, which

cannot fail to profoundly affect the political relations of mankind.

Isolation is ignorance; as soon as men begin to discover, by actual

intercourse, the similarities and dissimilarities of their several

conditions, these will begin to show improvements. To be assured

that people in one part of the world are better off than those in

another, will tend inevitably to bring about ameliorations for

the latter. The domain of evil will be continually restricted,

and that of good enlarged. In the dissemination of intelligence

and the spread of sympathy, the telegraph, and other applications

of electricity, have enormously aided the work of steam. Every

individual of civilized mankind may now be cognizant, at any

moment, of what is taking place at any point of the earth's surface

to which the appliances of civilization have penetrated. This

unprecedented spread of common acquaintanceship of the world

has been supplemented by discoveries of science in many other

directions. We know more of the moon to-day than Europe did of

this planet a few centuries ago. The industrial arts are now

prosecuted by machinery with a productiveness which enables one

man to do the work formerly performed by hundreds, and which more

than keeps up the supply with the demand. Conquests of natural

forces are constantly making, and each one of them adds to the

comfort and enlightenment of man. Men, practically, live a dozen

lives such as those of the past in their single span of seventy

years; and we are even finding means of prolonging the Scriptural

limit of mortal existence physically as well as mentally.

But is all this due to that great moral and social earthquake

to which we give the name of the French Revolution? Yes; for

that upheaval, like the plow of some titanic husbandman, brought

to the surface elements of good and use which had been lying

fallow for unnumbered ages. It brought into view the People,

as against mere rulers and aristocrats, who had hitherto lived

upon what the People produced, without working themselves, and

without caring for anything except to conserve things as they

were. Human progress will never be advanced by oligarchies, no

matter how gentle and well-disposed. We see their results to-day

in Spain and in Turkey, which are still mediæval, or worse, in

their condition and methods. It is the brains of the common people

that have wrought the mighty change; their personal interests

demand that they go forward, and their fresh and unencumbered

minds show them the way. The great scientists, the inventors,

the philanthropists, the reformers, are all of the common people;

the statesmen who have really governed the world in this century

have sprung from the common stock. The French Revolution destroyed

the dominance of old ideas, and with them the forms in which

they were embodied. Political, personal and religious freedom

are now matters of course; but a hundred years ago they were

almost unheard of, save in the dreams of optimists and fanatics.

The rights of labor have been vindicated; and the right of every

human being to the benefit of what he produces has been claimed

and established. Along with this improvement has come, of course,

a train of evils and abuses, due to our ignorance of how best

to manage and apply our new privileges and advantages; but such

evils are transient, and the conditions which created them will

suffice, ere long, to remove them. The conflict between labor

and capital is not permanent; it will yield to better knowledge

of the true demands of political economy. The indifference or

corruption of law makers and dispensers will disappear when men

realize that personal selfishness is self-destructive, and that

only care for the commonweal can bring about prosperity for the

individual. The democracy is still in its swaddling clothes,

and its outward aspect is in many ways ugly and unwelcome, and

we sigh for the elegance and composure of old days; but these

discomforts are a necessary accompaniment of growth, and will

vanish when the growing pains are past. The Press is the mirror of

the aspirations, the virtues and the faults of the new mankind; its

power is stupendous and constantly increasing; many are beginning

to dread it as a possible agent of ill; but in truth its real

power can only be for good, since the mass of mankind, however

wedded to selfishness as individuals, are united in desiring

honesty and good in the general trend of things; and it is to

the generality, and not to the particular, that the Press, to

be successful, must appeal. It is the great critic and the great

recorder; and in the face of such criticism and record abuses

cannot long maintain themselves. Men will be free, first of external

tyrannies, and then of that more subtle but not less dangerous

tyranny which they impose upon themselves. As might have been

expected, extremists have arisen who sought to find a short road

to perfection, and they have met with disappointment. The dreams

of the socialists have not been realized; men will not work for one

another unless they are at the same time working for themselves.

The communist and the nihilist are yet further from the true

ideal; there will always remain in human society certain persons

who rule, and others who obey. There must always, in all affairs,

be a head to direct as well as hands to execute. Men are born

unequal in intelligence and ability; and it will never be possible

to reduce leaders to the level of followers. The form of society

must take its model from the human form, in which one part is

subordinate to another, yet all work together in harmony. Only

time--and probably no very long time--is required to bring a

recognition of these facts. Meanwhile, the very violence of the

revolts against even the suspicion of oppression are but symptoms

of the vigorous vitality which, in former centuries, seemed to have

no existence at all. On the other hand, industrial co-operation

seems to promise successful development; it involves immense

economies, and consequent profit to producers. The middleman has

his uses, and especially is he a convenience; but it is easy to

pay too dear for conveniences; and there seems no reason why the

producer should not, as time goes on, become constantly better

equipped for dealing direct with the consumer, to the manifest

advantage of both.

All these and many other triumphs of civilization, which we see

now in objective form, were present in potency at the beginning

of this century, though, as we have said, they were not duly

taken into account by the framers of the agreement which sought

to make Holland and Belgium one flesh. Had the sun not yet risen

upon the human horizon, the attempt might have had a quasi success;

but the light was penetrating the darkened places, and men were

no longer willing to accept subjection as their inevitable doom.

It might be conducive to the comfort of the rest of Europe that

Batavian and Belgian should dwell together under one political

roof; but it did not suit the parties themselves; and therefore

they soon began to make their incompatibility known. But nothing

was heard beyond the grumblings of half-awakened discontent until,

in 1830, the new revolution in Paris sent a sympathetic thrill

through all the dissatisfied of Europe. A generation had now

passed since the first great upheaval, and men had had time to

digest the lesson which it conveyed, and to draw various more or

less reasonable inferences as to future possibilities. It had been

determined that, broadly speaking, what the people heartily wanted,

the people might have; and the disturbances in Paris indicated

that the people were prepared to resent any attempt on the part

of their rulers to bring back the old abuses. When the Pentarchy,

in 1815, had made its division of the spoils of Napoleon, the

Bourbons were reseated on the throne which Louis XIV. had made

famous; but Louis XVIII. was but a degenerate representative

of the glories that had been. He adopted a reactionary policy

against the Napoleonic (or imperialist), the republican and the

Protestant elements in France; and outrages and oppressions occurred.

As a consequence, secret societies were formed to counteract

the ultra-royalist policy. When Louis died, it was hoped that

his successor, Charles X., might introduce improvements; but

on the contrary he only made matters worse. The consequence was

the gradual growth of a liberal party, seeking a monarchy based

on the support of the great middle class of the population. In

1827 Charles disbanded the National Guard; and in the following

year the liberals elected a majority in the Chamber. Charles

foolishly attempted to meet this step by making the prince de

Polignac his minister, who stood for all that the people had

in abhorrence. The prince issued ordinances declaring the late

elections illegal, narrowing down the rights of suffrage to the

large landowners, and forbidding all liberty to the press. Hereupon

the populace of Paris erected barricades and took up arms; and

in the "Three Days" from the 27th to the 29th of July, 1830,

they defeated the forces of the king, and after capturing the

Hotel de Ville and the Louvre, sent him into exile, and made

the venerable and faithful Lafayette commander of the National

Guard. But the revolutionists showed forbearance; and instead of

beheading Charles, as they might have done, they let him go, and

punished the ministers by imprisonment only. This put an end to

the older line of the Bourbons in France, and the representative

of the younger branch, Louis Philippe ("Philippe Egalite"), was

set on the throne, in the hope that he would be willing to carry

out the people's will.

All this was interesting to the Belgians, and they profited by

the example. They regarded William as another Charles, and deemed

themselves justified in revolting against his rule. They declared

that they were no longer subject to his control, and issue was

joined on that point. But the Powers were not ready to permit the

dissolution of their anxiously constructed edifice; and they met

together with a view to arranging some secure modus vivendi. The

issue of their deliberations took the form of proposing that the

duchy of Luxemburg, at the southeast corner of Belgium, should be

ceded to Holland on the north. This suggestion was favorably received

by the Hollanders, but was not so agreeable to the Belgians; and an

assembly at Brussels devised and adopted a liberal constitution,

and invited Leopold of Saxe-Coburg to occupy their throne. Leopold

was at this time about forty years of age; he was the youngest

son of Francis, duke of Saxe-Coburg; he had married, in 1816,

the daughter of George IV. of England, the princess Charlotte,

and had, a few months before the Belgians' proposal, been offered

and had refused the crown of Greece. But the Belgian throne was

more to his liking; and after taking measures to sound the Powers

on the subject, and to assure himself of their good will, he

accepted the proffer, and was crowned under the title of Leopold

I. His reign lasted thirty-four years, and was comparatively

uneventful and prosperous.

But the Dutch refused to tolerate this change of sovereignty

without a struggle; William raised an army and suddenly threw

it into Belgium; and the chanees are that he would have made

short work of Belgian resistance had the two been permitted to

fight out their quarrel undisturbed. This, however, could not

happen; since the independence of Belgium had been recognized by

England, Austria, Russia, and Prussia; and the triumphal march

of the Dutch was arrested by a French army which happened to

be in the place where they could be most effective in the

circumstances. The Dutch had occupied Antwerp, a town on the

borderland of Belgium and Holland. It had been in the possession

of the French in 1794, but had been taken from them at the

Restoration in 1814. The French now laid siege to it, being under

the command of Gérard, while the Dutch were led by Chassè. The

citadel was taken in 1832, and the resistance of the Dutch to

the decree of Europe was practically at an end, though William

the Obstinate refused for several years to accept the fact. The

duchy of Luxemburg had sided with the Belgians all along, as

might have been anticipated from its position and natural

affiliations; and though no immediate action was taken relative

to its ownership till 1839, it remained during the interval in

Belgian hands. Matters remained in this ambiguous condition for

some time; but though the Dutch might grumble, they could not

fight. At length the treaty of 1839 was signed in London, on

the 19th of April, according to the terms of which part of the

duchy of Luxemburg was retained by the Belgians, and part was

ruled by the king of Holland as grand duke. In other respects,

the status quo ante was preserved, and the partition of Holland

and Belgium was confirmed, as it has ever since remained. The

history of Belgium thenceforward has been almost wholly devoid of

incidents; the little nation may quite too apothegm as applying

to themselves, "Short are the annals of a happy people!" Their

insignificance and their geographical position secure them against

all disturbance. They live in their tiny quarters with economy

and industry; the most densely populous community in Europe, and

one of the most prosperous. Around their borders rises the sullen

murmur of threatening armies and hostile dynasties; but Belgium

is free from menace, and their sunshine of peace is without a

cloud. It is of course conceivable that in the great struggle which

seems impending, the Belgian nation may suddenly vanish from the

map, and become but a memory in the minds of a future generation;

but their end, if it come, is likely to be in the nature of a

euthanasia, and so far as they are physically concerned, they

will survive their political annihilation. The only ripples which

have varied the smooth surface of their career since the treaty,

have been disputes between the liberal and clerical parties on

questions of education, and disturbances and occasional riots

instigated by socialists over industrial questions. Leopold,

dying at the age of seventy-six, was succeeded by his son as

Leopold II., and his reign continued during the remainder of the

century.

The treaty of 1839, in addition to its provisions already mentioned,

gave Limburg, on the Prussian border, to the Dutch, and opened

the Scheldt under heavy tolls. In October of the year following

the treaty, William I. abdicated the throne of Holland in favor

of his son. He had not enjoyed his reign, and he retired in an

ill humor, which was not without some excuse. His career had

been a worthy one; he had been a soldier in the field from his

twenty-first year till the battle of Wagram in 1809, when he was

near forty; after that he dwelt in retirement in Berlin until

he was called to the throne of the Netherlands. At that time

he had exchanged his German possessions for the grand duchy of

Luxemburg; and was therefore naturally reluctant to be deprived

of the latter. The old soldier survived his abdication only a

few years, dying in 1843 at Berlin.

William II. was a soldier like his father. He had gained distinction

under Wellington in the Spanish campaign, and in the struggle

against Napoleon during the Hundred Days he commanded the Dutch

contingent. He married Anne, sister of Alexander I. of Russia,

in 1816, and at the outbreak of the revolution of 1830 he was

sent to Belgium to bring about an arrangement. On the 16th of

October of that year he took the step, which was repudiated by

his rigid old father, of acknowledging Belgian independence; but

he subsequently commanded the Dutch army against the Belgians,

and was forced to yield to the French in August, 1832. After his

accession, he behaved with firmness and liberality, and died

in 1849 leaving a good reputation behind him.

Meanwhile, the new revolution of 1848 was approaching. Insensibly,

the states of Europe had ranged themselves under two principles.

There were on one side the states governed by constitutions,

including Great Britain, France, Holland, Belgium, Switzerland,

Sweden and, Norway, Denmark, and, for the time being, Spain and

Portugal. On the other side were Russia, Prussia, Austria, the

Italian States, and some of those of Germany, who held that the

right of rule and the making of laws belonged absolutely to certain

dynasties, which were, indeed, morally bound to consult the interests

of their populations, yet were not responsible to their subjects

for the manner in which they might choose to do it. In the last

mentioned states there existed a chronic strife between the people

and their rulers. It was an irrepressible conflict, and its crisis

was reached in 1848.

It was in France that things first came to a head. Louis Philippe

and his minister, Guizot, tried to render the government gradually

independent of the nation, in imitation of the absolutist empires;

and the uneasiness caused by this policy was emphasized by the

scarcity that prevailed during the years 1846 and 1847. The Liberals

began to demand electoral reform; but the king, on opening the

Chambers, intimated that he was convinced that no reform was

needed. Angry debates ensued, and finally the opposition arranged

for a great banquet in the Champs Elysee on February 22, 1848,

in support of the reform movement. This gathering, however, was

forbidden by Guizot. The order was regarded as arbitrary, and

the Republicans seized the opportunity. Barricades appeared in

Paris, the king was forced to abdicate, and took refuge with

his family in England. France was thereupon declared to be a

Republic, and the government was intrusted to Lamartine and others.

There was now great danger of excesses similar to those of the

first great revolution; but the elements of violence were kept

under by the opposition of the middle and higher classes. The

communistic clubs were overawed by the National Guards, and on

April 16th the Communistic party was defeated. General Cavaignac,

who had been made dictator during the struggle, laid down his

office after the battle which began on the 23d of June between

the rabble of idle mechanics, eighty thousand in number, and

the national forces had been decided in favor of the latter,

who slew no less than sixteen thousand of the enemy. Cavaignac

was now appointed chief of the Executive Commission with the

title of President of the Council. A reaction favoring a monarchy

was indicated; but meanwhile a new constitution provided for

a quadriennial presidency, with a single legislature of seven

hundred and fifty members. Louis Napoleon, the nephew of the

great emperor, was chosen by a majority vote for the office in

December of 1848. Four years later he was declared emperor under

the title of Napoleon III.

The revolutionary movement spread to other countries of Europe,

with varying results. In Hungary, Kossuth in the Diet demanded

of the emperor-king a national government. Prince Metternich,

prime minister, attempted to resist the demand with military

force, but an insurrection in Vienna drove him into exile, and

the Hungarians gained a temporary advantage, and were granted

a constitution. The Slavs met at Prague, at the instigation of

Polocky, and held a congress; but it was broken up by the impatience

of the inhabitants, and a success of the imperialists was followed

by the rising of the southern Slavs in favor of the emperor.

A battle took place in Hungary on September 11, 1848, but the

imperialists under Jellachich were routed and driven toward the

Austrian frontier. The war became wider in its scope; the

insurrectionists at first met with success; but in spite of their

desperate valor the Hungarian forces were finally overthrown by the

aid of a Russian army; and their leader, Goergy, was compelled to

surrender to the Russians on August 13, 1849. It was thought that

the Czar might annex Hungary; but he handed it back to Francis

Joseph, who, by way of vengeance, permitted the most hideous

cruelties.

In Germany, the issue had no definite feature. The people demanded

freedom of the Press and a German parliament, and the various

princes seemed acquiescent; but when it was proposed that Prussia

should become Germany, there was opposition on all sides; a Diet

of the Confederation was held, but Frederick William IV., king

of Prussia, refused to accept the title of hereditary emperor

which was offered him. Austria and Prussia came into opposition;

two rival congresses were sitting at the same time in 1850; and

war between the two states was only averted by the interference

of Russia. Czar Nicholas, then virtually dictator of Europe,

ordered Prussia's troops back, and the Convention of Olmutz, in

November, seemed to put a final end to Prussia's hopes of German

hegemony.

All the local despotisms of Italy collapsed before the breath

of revolution; but the country then found itself face to face

with Austria. Charles Albert of Sardinia had the courage to head

the revolt; but was defeated, and abdicated in favor of his son

Victor Emmanuel. Venice was taken after a severe siege by the

Austrians; and King Bomba managed to repossess himself of Naples,

after a terrible massacre. Sicily was subdued. In the Papal States,

Pio Nono was deposed; but after a time a reaction set in, the

provisional government under Mazzini was overthrown, and the

French occupied Rome and recalled the Pope.

The question as to the Danish or German ownership of the duchies

of Schleswig-Holstein had already been agitated, and they became

acute at this time; but the spirit of the new revolution had no

direct bearing upon the matter. By the end of the first half

of the nineteenth century, Europe was outwardly quiet once more.

And what part had Holland taken in these proceedings? A very

small one. The phlegmatic Dutchmen found themselves fairly well

off, and were nowise tempted to embark in troubles for sentiment's

sake. The constitution given them in 1814 was revised, with the

consent of the king, and the changes, which involved various

political reforms, went into effect on April 17, 1848. William

II. died just eleven months afterward, and was succeeded by his

son William III., at that time a man of two-and-thirty. He favored

the reforms granted by his father, and showed himself to be in

harmony with such sober ideas of progress as belonged to the

nation over which he ruled. His aim in all things was peace, and

the development of the resources of the country; he understood his

people, and they placed confidence in him, and Holland steadily

grew in wealth and comfort. In 1853, after the establishment by

the papacy of Catholic bishoprics had been allowed, there was

a period of some excitement; for Roman Catholicism had found a

stern and unconquerable foe in the Dutch; when it had come with

the bloody tyranny of Spain. But those evil days were past, and

the Dutch, who had pledged themselves to welcome religious freedom

in their dominions, were disposed to let bygones be bygones, and

to permit such of their countrymen as preferred the Catholic

ceremonial to have their way. It was evident that no danger existed

of Holland's becoming subject to the papacy; and, indeed, the

immediate political sequel of the establishment of the bishoprics

was the election of a moderate, liberal, Protestant cabinet,

which thoroughly represented the country, and which represented

its tone thereafter, with such modifications as new circumstances

might suggest. The Dutch were philosophic, and were victims to

no vague and costly ambitions. They felt that they had given

sufficient proofs of their quality in the past; the glory which

they had won as champions of liberty could never fade; and now

they merited the repose which we have learned to associate with

our conception of the Dutch character. Their nature seems to

partake of the scenic traits of their country; its picturesque,

solid serenity, its unemotional levels, its flavor of the antique:

and yet beneath that composure we feel the strength and steadfastness

which can say to the ocean, Thus far and no further, and can build

their immaculate towns, and erect their peaceful windmills, and

navigate their placid canals, and smoke their fragrant pipes on

land which, by natural right, should be the bottom of the sea.

Holland is a perennial type of human courage and industry, common

sense and moderation. As we contemplate them to-day, it requires

an effort of the imagination to picture them as the descendants

of a race of heroes who defied and overcame the strongest and

most cruel Power on earth in their day, and then taught the rest

of Europe how to unite success in commerce with justice and honor.

But the heroism is still there, and, should need arise, we need

not doubt that it would once more be manifested.

Because Holland is so quiet, some rash critics fancy that she

may be termed effete. But this is far from the truth. The absence

of military burdens, rendered needless by the intelligent

selfishness, if not the conscience, of the rest of Europe, implies

no decadence of masculine spirit in the Dutch. In no department

of enterprise, commercial ability, or intellectual energy are

they inferior to any of their contemporaries, or to their own

great progenitors. "Holland," says Professor Thorold Rogers, "is

the origin of scientific medicine and rational therapeutics. From

Holland came the first optical instruments, the best mathematicians,

the most intelligent philosophers, as well as the boldest and most

original thinkers. Amsterdam and Rotterdam held the printing

presses of Europe in the early days of the republic; the Elzevirs

were the first publishers of cheap editions, and thereby aided

in disseminating the new learning. From Holland came the new

agriculture, which has done so much for social life, horticulture

and floriculture. The Dutch taught modern Europe navigation. They

were the first to explore the unknown seas, and many an island

and cape which their captains discovered has been renamed after

some one who got his knowledge by their research, and appropriated

the fruit of his predecessor's labors. They have been as much

plundered in the world of letters as they have been in commerce

and politics. Holland taught the Western nations finance--perhaps

no great boon. But they also taught commercial honor, the last

and hardest lesson which nations learn. They inculcated free

trade, a lesson nearly as hard to learn, if not harder, since

the conspiracy against private right is watchful, incessant,

and, as some would make us believe, respectable. They raised

a constant and for a long time ineffectual protest against the

barbarous custom of privateering, and the dangerous doctrine of

contraband of war, a doctrine which, if carried out logically,

would allow belligerents to interdict the trade of the world. The

Dutch are the real founders of what people call international law,

or the rights of nations. They made mistakes, but they made fewer

than their neighbors made. The benefits which they conferred were

incomparably greater than the errors they committed. There is nothing

more striking than the fact that, after a brief and discreditable

episode, the states were an asylum for the persecuted. The Jews,

who were condemned because they were thrifty, plundered because

they were rich, and harassed because they clung tenaciously to

their ancient faith and customs, found an asylum in Holland;

and some of them perhaps, after they originated and adopted,

with the pliability of their race, a Teutonic alias, have not

been sufficiently grateful to the country which sheltered them.

The Jansenists, expelled from France, found a refuge in Utrecht,

and more than a refuge, a recognition, when recognition was a

dangerous offence.

"There is no nation in Europe," continues the professor, "which

owes more to Holland than Great Britain does. The English were

for a long time, in the industrial history of modern civilization,

the stupidest and most backward nation in Europe. There was, to

be sure, a great age in England during the reign of Elizabeth

and that of the first Stuart king. But it was brief indeed. In

every other department of art, of agriculture, of trade, we learned

our lesson from the Hollanders. I doubt whether any other small

European race, after passing through the trials which it endured

after the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle to the conclusion of the

continental war, ever had so entire a recovery. The chain of its

history, to be sure, was broken, and can never, in the nature

of things, be welded together. But there is still left to Holland

the boast and the reality of her motto, 'Luctor et emergo.'"

The events of Holland's history since the Catholic concessions

can be briefly told. In 1863 slavery was abolished in the Dutch

West Indies, the owners being compensated; and forty-two thousand

slaves were set free, chiefly in Dutch Guiana. In the same year

the navigation of the Scheldt was freed, by purchase from Holland

by the European powers, of the right to levy tolls. In 1867, Louis

Napoleon raised the question of Luxemburg by negotiating to buy

the grand duchy from Holland; but Prussia objected to the scheme,

and the matter was finally settled by a Conference in London; the

Prussian garrison evacuating the fortifications, which were then

dismantled, and Luxemburg was declared neutral territory. Capital

punishment was abolished in 1869; and on the 15th of July of the

same year the Amsterdam National Exposition was opened by Prince

Henry. In 1870, at the outbreak of war between Germany and France,

the neutrality of Holland as to both belligerents was secured by

the other Powers. In 1871 the Hollanders ceded Dutch Guinea to

England, and in 1876 the canal between Amsterdam and the North

Sea, which had been begun in 1865, was completed, and the passage

through it was accomplished by a monitor. Another Exposition was

opened in 1883, and in the same year the constitution underwent

a further revision. On the 24th of June, 1884, the Prince of

Orange, heir-apparent to the throne, died, and the succession

thus devolved upon the princess Wilhelmina, then a child of four

years. William III. himself died in 1890, and Queen Emma thereupon

assumed the regency, which she was to hold until Wilhelmina came

of age in 1898; an agreeable consummation which we have just

witnessed.

A word may here be said concerning the physical and political

constitution of the present kingdom of Holland. The country is

divided into eleven provinces--North and South Holland, Zealand,

North Brabant, Utrecht, Limburg, Gelderland, Overyssel, Drenthe,

Groningen, and Friesland. There are three large rivers--the Rhine,

the Meuse, and the Scheldt. The inhabitants are Low Germans (Dutch),

Frankish, Saxon, Frisian, and Jews, the latter numbering some

sixty thousand, though their influence is, owing to their wealth

and activity, larger than these figures would normally represent.

The leading religion of the country is Lutheran; but there are

also many Catholics and persons of other faiths, all of whom

are permitted the enjoyment of their creeds. Holland was at one

time second to no country in the extent of its colonies; and

it still owns Java, the Moluccas, part of Borneo, New Guinea,

Sumatra and Celebes, in the East; and in the West, Dutch Guiana

and Curacoa. In Roman times the Low Countries were inhabited by

various peoples, chiefly of Germanic origin; and in the Middle

Ages were divided into several duchies and counties--such as

Brabant, Flanders, Gelderland, Holland, Zealand, etc. The present

government is a hereditary monarchy, consisting of a king or

queen and states-general; the upper chamber of fifty members,

the lower of one hundred. It is essentially a country of large

towns, of five thousand inhabitants and upward. The Frisians are

in North Holland, separated by the river Meuse from the Franks;

the Saxons extend to the Utrecht Veldt. The Semitic race is

represented by the Portuguese Jews; and there is an admixture

of other nationalities. In no part of the country do the Dutch

present a marked physical type, but, on the other hand, they

are sharply differenced, in various localities, by their laws,

their customs, and particularly by their dialects; indeed the

Frisians have a distinct language of their own.

The constitution of 1815, though more than once revised, remains

practically much the same as at first. The son of the monarch, the

heir-apparent, is called the Prince of Orange. The administration

of the Provinces is in the hands of the provincial states; these

meet but a few times in the year. The Communes have their communal

councils, under the control of the burgomasters. There is a high

court of justice, and numerous minor courts.

The population is divided between about two million two hundred

thousand Protestants, and half as many Roman Catholics, together

with others. There are four thousand schools, with six hundred

thousand pupils, and about fourteen thousand teachers. Not more

than ten per cent of the people are illiterate, and the women are

as carefully educated the men. There are four great universities:

Leyden, founded in 1575; Utrecht, founded in 1636; Groningen, in

1614; and Amsterdam, which has existed since 1877. These seats of

learning give instruction to from three hundred to seven hundred

students each. The total expenses of the universities average

about six hundred thousand dollars. There are also in Holland

excellent institutions of art, science, and industry.

Agriculture is generally pursued, but without the extreme science

and economy shown in Belgium. The cultivation and produce vary,

in part, according as the soil is sand or clay; but the same kind

of soil, in different parts of the country, produces different

results. Cattle are largely raised and are of first-rate quality;

Friesland produces the best, but there are also excellent stocks in

North Holland and South Holland. In Drenthe, owing to the extensive

pasturage, great numbers of sheep are raised. But perhaps the most

important industry of Holland is the fisheries, both those of the

deep sea, and those carried on in the great Zuyder Zee, which

occupies a vast area within the boundaries of the country. These

fisheries, however, are not in all years successful, owing to

the ungovernable vagaries of ocean currents, and other causes.

Holland has taken a prominent part in European thought since about

1820. The Dutch language, instead of yielding to the domination

of the German, has been cultivated and enriched. The writers who

have achieved distinction could hardly even be named in space

here available, and any approach to a critical estimate of them

would require volumes. One of the earlier but best-known names

is that of Jacobus Van Lennep, who is regarded as the leader

of the Dutch Romantic school. He was born in Amsterdam on the

24th of March, 1802, and died at Oosterbeek, near Arnheim, August

25, 1868. His father, David, was a professor and a poet; Jacobus

studied jurisprudence at Leyden, and afterward practiced law at

Amsterdam. For a while he took some part in politics as a member

of the second chamber; but his heart was bent on the pursuit

of literature, and he gradually abandoned all else for that.

His first volume of poems was published when he was but

four-and-twenty; and he was the author of several dramas. But

his strongest predilections were for romantic novel-writing;

and his works in this direction show signs of the influence of

Walter Scott, who dominated the romantic field in the first half

of this century, and was known in Holland as well as throughout

the rest of Europe. "The Foster Son" was published in 1829; the

"Rose of Dekama" in 1836; "The Adventures of Claus Sevenstars" in

1865. His complete works, in prose and poetry, fill six-and-thirty

volumes. A younger contemporary of Van Lennep was Nikolas Beets,

born at Haarlem in 1814; he also was both poet and prose writer,

and his "Camara Obscura," published in 1839, is accounted a

masterpiece of character and humor, though it was composed when

the author was barely twenty-four years of age. Van den Brink

was a leading critic of the Romanticists; Hasebrock, author of

a volume of essays called "Truth and Dream," has been likened

to the English Charles Lamb. Vosmaer is another eminent figure

in Dutch literature; he wrote a "Life of Rembrandt" which is a

masterpiece of biography. Kuenen, who died but ten years ago,

was a biblical critic of European celebrity. But the list of

contemporary Dutch writers is long and brilliant, and the time

to speak critically of them must be postponed.

Nothing impresses the visitor to Holland more than the vast dikes

or dams which restrain the sea from overwhelming the country.

They have to be constantly watched and renewed, and to those

unused to the idea of dwelling in the presence of such constant

peril, the phlegm of the Hollanders is remarkable. M. Havard, who

has made a careful study of the country and its people, and who

writes of them in a lively style, has left excellent descriptions

of these unique works. "We know," he says, "what the Zealand

soil is--how uncertain, changing, and mutable; nevertheless,

a construction is placed upon it, one hundred and twenty yards

long, sixteen yards wide at the entrance, and more than seven

and a half yards deep below high water. Add to this, that the

enormous basin (one thousand nine hundred square yards) is enclosed

within granite walls of extraordinary thickness, formed of solid

blocks of stone of tremendous weight. To what depth must the

daring workmen who undertook the Cyclopean task have gone in

search of a stable standpoint, on which to lay the foundation

of such a mass! In what subterranean layer could they have had

such confidence, in this country where the earth sinks in, all of

a sudden, where islands disappear without leaving a trace--that

they ventured to build upon it so mighty an edifice! And observe

that not only one dam is thus built; in the two islands of Zuid

Beveland and Walcheren a dozen have been constructed. There are

two at Wormeldingen. In the presence of these achievements, of

problems faced with such courage and solved with such success,

one is almost bewildered."

Elsewhere, in speaking of Kampveer, one of the towns which suffered

an inundation, he says, "Poor little port! once so famous, lively,

populous, and noisy, and now so solitary and still! Traces of

its former military and mercantile character are yet to be seen.

On the left stands a majestic building with thick walls and few

apertures, terminating on the sea in a crenelated round tower;

and these elegant houses, with their arched and trefoiled windows,

and their decorated gables, on the right, once formed the ancient

Scotschhuis. Every detail of the building recalls the great trade

in wool done by the city at that period. Far off, at the entrance

of the port, stands a tower, the last remnant of the ramparts,

formerly a fortification; it is now a tavern. In vain do we look

for the companion tower; it has disappeared with the earth on

which its foundations stood deep and strong for ages. If, from

the summit of the surviving tower, you search for that mysterious

town upon the opposite bank, you will look for it in vain where

it formerly stood and mirrored its houses and steeples in the

limpid waters. Kampen also has been swallowed up forever, leaving

no trace that it ever existed in this world. The land that stretches

out before us is all affected by that subtle, cancerous disease,

the _val_, whose ravages are so terrible. Two centuries ago this

great bay was so filled up with sand that it was expected the

two islands would in a short time be reunited and thenceforth

form but one. Then, on a sudden, the gulf yawned anew. That huge

rent, the Veer Gat, opened once again, more deeply than before;

whole towns were buried, and their inhabitants drowned. Then the

water retired, the earth rose, shaking off its humid winding

sheet, and the old task was resumed; man began once more to dispute

the soil with the invading waves. A portion of the land, which

seemed to have been forever lost, was regained; but at the cost

of what determined strife, after how many battles, with what

dire alternations! Within a century, three entire polders on

the north coast of Noordbeveland have again vanished, and in

the place where they were there flows a stream forty yards deep.

In 1873, the polder of Borselen, thirty-one acres in extent, sank

into the waters. Each year the terrible _val_ devours some space

or other, carrying away the land in strips. The Sophia polder is

now attacked by the _val_. Every possible means is being employed

for its defence; no sacrifice is spared. The game is almost up;

already one dike has been swallowed, and a portion of the conquered

ground has had to be abandoned. The dams are being strengthened

in the rear, while every effort is being made to fix the soil so

as to prevent the slipping away of the reclaimed land. To effect

this, not only are the dams, reinforced and complicated by an

inextricable network of stones and interlaced tree-branches; but

_Zinkstukken_ are sunk far off in the sea, which by squeezing down

the shifting bottom avert those sudden displacements which bring

about such disasters. The Zinkstukken--enormous constructions in

wicker work--are square rafts, made of reeds and boughs twisted

together, sometimes two or three hundred feet long on a side.

They are made on the edge of the coast and pushed into the sea;

and no sooner is one afloat than it is surrounded by a crowd of

barges and boats, big and little, laden with stones and clods

of earth. The boats are then attached to the Zinkstuk, and this

combined flotilla is so disposed along shore that the current

carries it to the place where the Zinkstuk is to be sunk. When

the current begins to make itself felt, the raft is loaded by

the simple process of heaping the contents of the barges upon

the middle of it. The men form in line from the four corners

to the centre, and the loads of stone and earth are passed on to

the centre of the raft, on which they are flung; then the middle

of the Zinkstuk begins to sink gently, and to disappear under the

water. As it goes down, the operators withdraw; the stones and

clods are then flung upon it from boats. At this stage of the

proceedings the Zinkstuk is so heavy that all the vessels, dragged

by its weight, lean over, and their masts bend above it. But now

the decisive moment approaches, and the foreman, standing on

the poop of the largest boat, in the middle of the flotilla, on

the side furthest from the shore, awaits the instant when the

Zinkstuk shall come into precisely the foreordained position.

At that instant he utters a shout and makes a signal; the ropes

are cut, the raft plunges downward, and disappears forever, while

the boats recover their proper position."

M. Havard merits the space we have given him; for he describes

a work the like of which has never been seen elsewhere in the

world, any more than have the conditions which necessitated it.

But the picturesqueness of the actual scene can hardly be conveyed

in words. Under an azure sky we behold outstretched a sparkling

sea, its waters shading from green to blue and from yellow to

violet, harmoniously blending. In the distance, as though marking

the horizon, stretches a long, green strip of land, with the

spires of the churches standing out in strong relief against the

sky. At our feet is the Zinkstuk, surrounded by its flotilla.

The great red sails furled upon the masts, the green poops, the

rudders sheathed with burnished copper, the red streaks along

the sides of the boats, the colored shirts, brown vests, and

blue girdles of the men, touched by the warm rays of the sun,

compose a striking picture. On all sides the men are in motion,

and five hundred brawny arms are flinging the contents of the

boats upon the great raft; a truly Titanic stoning! Projectiles

rain from all sides without pause, until the moment comes when

the decisive command is to be given. Then silence, absolute and

impressive, falls upon the multitude. Suddenly the signal is

given; a creaking noise is heard; the fifty boats right themselves

at the same instant, and turn toward the point where the great

raft which had separated them has just disappeared. They bump

against one another, they get entangled, they group themselves in

numberless different ways. The swarming men, stooping and raising

up, the uplifted arms, the flying stones, the spurting water

covering the boats with foam; and in the midst of the confusion the

polder-jungens flinging the clods of earth with giant strength and

swiftness upon the raft. At certain points the tumult declines;

flags are hoisted from the tops of masts, the large sails are

shaken out, and aided by the breeze some vessels get loose, sail

out, and desert the field of battle. These are they whose task

is done, and which are empty. They retire one by one upon the

great expanse of water, which, save in one spot, was a little

while ago deserted, and is now overspread with the vessels making

their various ways toward that green line on the horizon.

This is a conflict not of days, nor of years, nor of generations,

but of all time; and what the end will be none can foretell.

It is the concrete symbol of the everlasting fight of man with

nature, which means civilization. The day may come when, where

once Holland was, will be outspread the serene waters of the

sea, hiding beneath them the records of the stupendous struggle

of so many centuries. Or, perhaps, some mysterious shifting of

the ocean bottom may not only lift Holland out of peril, but

uncover mighty tracts of land which, in the prehistoric past,

belonged to Europe. Meanwhile it is easy to understand that the

people who can wage this ceaseless war for their homes and lives,

are the sons of those heroes who curbed the might of Spain, and

taught the world the lessons of freedom and independence.

THE END