DISCONTENT IN THE NETHERLANDS.
The Reformation.--Its Progress in the Netherlands.--General
Discontent.--William of Orange.
The middle of the sixteenth century presented one of those crises which
have occurred at long intervals in the history of Europe, when the
course of events has had a permanent influence on the destiny of
nations. Scarcely forty years had elapsed since Luther had thrown down
the gauntlet to the Vatican, by publicly burning the papal bull at
Wittenberg. Since that time, his doctrines had been received in Denmark
and Sweden. In England, after a state of vacillation for three reigns,
Protestantism, in the peculiar form which it still wears, was become the
established religion of the state. The fiery cross had gone round over
the hills and valleys of Scotland, and thousands and tens of thousands
had gathered to hear the word of life from the lips of Knox. The
doctrines of Luther were spread over the northern parts of Germany, and
freedom of worship was finally guarantied there, by the treaty of
Passau. The Low Countries were the "debatable land," on which the
various sects of Reformers, the Lutheran, the Calvinist, the English
Protestant, contended for mastery with the established church. Calvinism
was embraced by some of the cantons of Switzerland, and at Geneva its
great apostle had fixed his head-quarters. His doctrines were widely
circulated through France, till the divided nation was preparing to
plunge into that worst of all wars, in which the hand of brother is
raised against brother. The cry of reform had even passed the Alps, and
was heard under the walls of the Vatican. It had crossed the Pyrenees.
The king of Navarre declared himself a Protestant; and the spirit of the
Reformation had secretly insinuated itself into Spain, and taken hold,
as we have seen, of the middle and southern provinces of the kingdom.
A contemporary of the period, who reflected on the onward march of the
new religion over every obstacle in its path, who had seen it gather
under its banners states and nations once the most loyal and potent
vassals of Rome, would have had little reason to doubt that, before the
end of the century, the Reform would have extended its sway over the
whole of Christendom. Fortunately for Catholicism, the most powerful
empire in Europe was in the hands of a prince who was devoted with his
whole soul to the interests of the Church. Philip the Second understood
the importance of his position. His whole life proves that he felt it to
be his especial mission to employ his great resources to restore the
tottering fortunes of Catholicism, and stay the progress of the torrent
which was sweeping away every landmark of the primitive faith.
We have seen the manner in which he crushed the efforts of the
Protestants in Spain. This was the first severe blow struck at the
Reformation. Its consequences cannot well be exaggerated; not the
immediate results, which would have been little without the subsequent
reforms and increased activity of the Church of Rome itself. But the
moral influence of such a blow, when the minds of men had been depressed
by a long series of reverses, is not to be estimated. In view of this,
one of the most eminent Roman Catholic writers does not hesitate to
remark, that "the power and abilities of Philip the Second afforded a
counterpoise to the Protestant cause, which prevented it from making
itself master of Europe."[491] The blow was struck; and from this
period little beyond its present conquests was to be gained for the
cause of the Reformation.
[Sidenote: REFORMATION IN THE NETHERLANDS.]
It was not to be expected that Philip, after having exterminated heresy
in one part of his dominions, should tolerate its existence in any
other, least of all, in a country so important as the Netherlands. Yet a
little reflection might have satisfied him that the same system of
measures could hardly be applied with a prospect of success to two
countries so differently situated as Spain and the Netherlands. The
Romish faith may be said to have entered into the being of the Spaniard.
It was not merely cherished as a form of religion, but as a principle of
honor. It was part of the national history. For eight centuries the
Spaniard had been fighting at home the battles of the Church. Nearly
every inch of soil in his own country was won by arms from the infidel.
His wars, as I have more than once had occasion to remark, were all wars
of religion. He carried the same spirit across the waters. There he was
still fighting the infidel. His life was one long crusade. How could
this champion of the Church desert her in her utmost need?
With this predisposition, it was easy for Philip to enforce obedience in
a people naturally the most loyal to their princes, to whom, moreover,
since the fatal war of the _Comunidades_, they had been accustomed to
pay an almost Oriental submission. Intrenched behind the wall of the
Pyrenees, Spain, we must bear in mind, felt little of the great shock
which was convulsing France and the other states of Europe; and with the
aid of so formidable an engine as the Inquisition, it was easy to
exterminate, before they could take root, such seeds of heresy as had
been borne by the storm across the mountains.
The Netherlands, on the other hand, lay like a valley among the hills,
which drinks in all the waters of the surrounding country. They were a
common reservoir for the various opinions which agitated the nations on
their borders. On the south were the Lutherans of Germany. The French
Huguenots pressed them on the west; and by the ocean they held
communication with England and the nations of the Baltic. The soldier
quartered on their territory, the seaman who visited their shores, the
trader who trafficked in their towns, brought with them different forms
of the new religion. Books from France and from Germany circulated
widely among a people, nearly all of whom, as we have seen, were able to
read.
The new doctrines were discussed by men accustomed to think and act for
themselves. Freedom of speculation on religious topics soon extended to
political. It was the natural tendency of reform. The same spirit of
free inquiry which attacked the foundations of unity of faith, stood
ready next to assail those of unity of government; and men began boldly
to criticize the rights of kings and the duties of subjects.
The spirit of independence was fostered by the institutions of the
country. The provinces of the Netherlands, if not republican in form,
were filled with the spirit of republics. In many of their features they
call to mind the free states of Italy in the Middle Ages. Under the
petty princes who ruled over them in early days, they had obtained
charters, as we have seen, which secured a certain degree of
constitutional freedom. The province of Brabant, above all, gloried in
its "_Joyeuse Entrée_," which guarantied privileges and immunities of a
more liberal character than those possessed by the other states of the
Netherlands. When the provinces passed at length under the sceptre of a
single sovereign, he lived at a distance, and the government was
committed to a viceroy. Since their connection with Spain, the
administration had been for the most part in the hands of a woman; and
the delegated authority of a woman pressed but lightly on the
independent temper of the Flemings.
Yet Charles the Fifth, as we have seen, partial as he was to his
countrymen in the Netherlands, could ill brook their audacious spirit,
and made vigorous efforts to repress it. But his zeal for the spiritual
welfare of his people never led him to overlook their material
interests. He had no design by his punishments to cripple their
strength, much less to urge them to extremity. When the regent, Mary of
Hungary, his sister, warned him that his laws bore too heavily on the
people to be endured, he was careful to mitigate their severity. His
edicts in the name of religion were, indeed, written in blood. But the
frequency of their repetition shows, as already remarked, the imperfect
manner in which they were executed. This was still further proved by the
prosperous condition of the people, the flourishing aspect of the
various branches of industry, and the great enterprises to facilitate
commercial intercourse and foster the activity of the country. At the
close of Charles's reign, or rather at the commencement of his
successor's, in 1560, was completed the grand canal extending from
Antwerp to Brussels, the construction of which had consumed thirty
years, and one million eight hundred thousand florins.[492] Such a work,
at such a period,--the fruit, not of royal patronage, but of the public
spirit of the citizens,--is evidence both of large resources and of
wisdom in the direction of them. In this state of things, it is not
surprising that the Flemings, feeling their own strength, should have
assumed a free and independent tone little grateful to the ear of a
sovereign. So far had this spirit of liberty or licence, as it was
termed, increased, in the latter part of the emperor's reign, that the
Regent Mary, when her brother abdicated, chose also to resign,
declaring, in a letter to him, that "she would not continue to live
with, much less to reign over, a people whose manners had undergone such
a change,--in whom respect for God and man seemed no longer to
exist."[493]
A philosopher who should have contemplated at that day the condition of
the country, and the civilization at which it had arrived, might feel
satisfied that a system of toleration in religious matters would be the
one best suited to the genius of the people and the character of their
institutions. But Philip was no philosopher; and toleration was a virtue
not understood, at that time, by Calvinist any more than by Catholic.
The question, therefore, is not whether the end he proposed was the best
one;--on this, few at the present day will differ;--but whether Philip
took the best means for effecting that end. This is the point of view
from which his conduct in the Netherlands should be criticized.
Here, in the outset, he seems to have fallen into a capital error, by
committing so large a share in the government to the hands of a
foreigner,--Granvelle. The country was filled with nobles, some of them
men of the highest birth, whose ancestors were associated with the most
stirring national recollections, and who were endeared, moreover, to
their countrymen by their own services. To several of these Philip
himself was under no slight obligations for the aid they had afforded
him in the late war,--on the fields of Gravelines and St. Quentin, and
in the negotiation of the treaty which closed his hostilities with
France. It was hardly to be expected that these proud nobles, conscious
of their superior claims, and accustomed to so much authority and
deference in their own land, would tamely submit to the control of a
stranger, a man of obscure family, like his father indebted for his
elevation to the royal favor.
[Sidenote: DISCONTENT IN THE NETHERLANDS.]
Besides these great lords, there was a numerous aristocracy, inferior
nobles and cavaliers, many of whom had served under the standard of
Charles in his long wars. They there formed those formidable companies
of _ordonnance_, whose fame perhaps stood higher than that of any other
corps of the imperial cavalry. The situation of these men, now
disbanded, and, with their roving military habits, hanging loosely on
the country, has been compared by a modern author to that which, on the
accession of the Bourbons, was occupied by the soldiers whom Napoleon
had so often led to victory.[494] To add to their restlessness, many of
these, as well as of the higher nobility, were embarrassed by debts
contracted in their campaigns, or by too ambitious expenditure at home,
especially in rivalry with the ostentatious Spaniard. "The Flemish
nobles," says a writer of the time, "were too many of them oppressed by
heavy debts and the payment of exorbitant interest. They spent twice as
much as they were worth on their palaces, furniture, troops of
retainers, costly liveries, their banquets and sumptuous entertainments
of every description,--in fine, in every form of luxury and superfluity
that could be devised. Thus discontent became prevalent through the
country, and men anxiously looked forward to some change."[495]
Still another element of discontent, and one that extended to all
classes, was antipathy to the Spaniards. It had not been easy to repress
this even under the rule of Charles the Fifth, who had shown such
manifest preference for his Flemish subjects. But now it was more
decidedly called out, under a monarch, whose sympathies lay altogether
on the side of their rivals. No doubt this popular sentiment is to be
explained partly by the contrast afforded by the characters of the two
nations, so great as hardly to afford a point of contact between them.
But it may be fairly charged, to a great extent, on the Spaniards
themselves, who, while they displayed many noble and magnanimous traits
at home, seemed desirous to exhibit only the repulsive side of their
character to the eye of the stranger. Cold and impenetrable, assuming an
arrogant tone of superiority over every other nation, in whatever land
it was their destiny to be cast, England, Italy, or the Netherlands, as
allies or as enemies, we find the Spaniards of that day equally
detested. Brought with them, as the people of the Netherlands were,
under a common sceptre, a spirit of comparison and rivalry grew up,
which induced a thousand causes of irritation.
The difficulty was still further increased by the condition of the
neighboring countries, where the minds of the inhabitants were now in
the highest state of fermentation in matters of religion. In short, the
atmosphere seemed everywhere to be in that highly electrified condition
which bodes the coming tempest. In this critical state of things, it was
clear that it was only by a most careful and considerate policy that
harmony could be maintained in the Netherlands; a policy manifesting
alike tenderness for the feelings of the nation and respect for its
institutions.
Having thus shown the general aspect of things when the duchess of Parma
entered on her regency, towards the close of 1559, it is time to go
forward with the narrative of the prominent events which led to the War
of the Revolution.
We have already seen that Philip, on leaving the country, lodged the
administration nominally in three councils, although in truth it was on
the council of state that the weight of government actually rested. Even
here the nobles who composed it were of little account in matters of
real importance, which were reserved for a _consulta_, consisting,
besides the regent, of Granvelle, Count Barlaimont, and the learned
jurist Viglius. As the last two were altogether devoted to Granvelle,
and the regent was instructed to defer greatly to his judgment, the
government of the Netherlands may be said to have been virtually
deposited in the hands of the bishop of Arras.
At the head of the Flemish nobles in the council of state, and indeed in
the country, taking into view their rank, fortune, and public services,
stood Count Egmont and the prince of Orange. I have already given some
account of the former, and the reader has seen the important part which
he took in the great victories of Gravelines and St. Quentin. To the
prince of Orange Philip had also been indebted for his counsel in
conducting the war, and still more for the aid which he had afforded in
the negotiations for peace. It will be proper, before going further, to
give the reader some particulars of this celebrated man, the great
leader in the war of the Netherlands.
William, prince of Orange, was born at Dillenburg, in the German duchy
of Nassau, on the twenty-fifth of April, 1533. He was descended from a
house, one of whose branches had given an emperor to Germany; and
William's own ancestors were distinguished by the employments they had
held, and the services they had rendered, both in Germany and the Low
Countries. It was a proud vaunt of his, that Philip was under larger
obligations to him than he to Philip; and that, but for the house of
Nassau, the king of Spain would not be able to write as many titles as
he now did after his name.[496]
When eleven years old, by the death of his cousin René he came into
possession of a large domain in Holland, and a still larger property in
Brabant, where he held the title of Lord of Breda. To these was added,
the splendid inheritance of Chalons, and of the principality of Orange;
which, however, situated at a distance, in the heart of France, might
seem to be held by a somewhat precarious tenure.
William's parents were both Lutherans, and in their faith he was
educated. But Charles saw with displeasure the false direction thus
given to one who at a future day was to occupy so distinguished a
position among his Flemish vassals. With the consent of his parents, the
child, in his twelfth year, was removed to Brussels, to be brought up in
the family of the emperor's sister, the Regent Mary of Hungary. However
their consent to this step may be explained, it certainly seems that
their zeal for the spiritual welfare of their son was not such as to
stand in the way of his temporal. In the family of the regent the youth
was bred a Catholic, while in all respects he received an education
suited to his rank.[497] It is an interesting fact, that his preceptor
was a younger brother of Granvelle,--the man with whom William was
afterwards to be placed in an attitude of such bitter hostility.
[Sidenote: WILLIAM OF ORANGE.]
When fifteen years of age, the prince was taken into the imperial
household, and became the page of Charles the Fifth. The emperor was not
slow in discerning the extraordinary qualities of the youth; and he
showed it by intrusting him, as he grew older, with various important
commissions. He was accompanied by the prince on his military
expeditions, and Charles gave a remarkable proof of his confidence in
his capacity, by raising him, at the age of twenty-two, over the heads
of veteran officers, and giving him the command of the imperial forces
engaged in the siege of Marienburg. During the six months that William
was in command, they were still occupied with this siege, and with the
construction of a fortress for the protection of Flanders. There was
little room for military display. But the troops were in want of food
and of money, and their young commander's conduct under these
embarrassments was such as to vindicate the wisdom of his appointment.
Charles afterwards employed him on several diplomatic missions,--a more
congenial field for the exercise of his talents, which appear to have
been better suited to civil than to military affairs.
The emperor's regard for the prince seems to have increased with his
years, and he gave public proof of it, in the last hour of his reign, by
leaning on William's shoulder at the time of his abdication, when he
made his parting address to the states of the Netherlands. He showed
this still further by selecting him for the honorable mission of bearing
the imperial crown to Ferdinand.
On his abdication, Charles earnestly commended William to his successor.
Philip profited by his services in the beginning of his reign, when the
prince of Orange, who had followed him in the French war, was made one
of the four plenipotentiaries for negotiating the treaty of
Cateau-Cambresis, for the execution of which he remained as one of the
hostages in France.
While at the court of Henry the Second, it will be remembered, the
prince became acquainted with the secret designs of the French and
Spanish monarchs against the Protestants in their dominions; and he
resolved, from that hour, to devote all his strength to expel the
"Spanish vermin" from the Netherlands. One must not infer from this,
however, that William, at this early period, meditated the design of
shaking off the rule of Spain altogether. The object he had in view went
no further than to relieve the country from the odious presence of the
Spanish troops, and to place the administration in those hands to which
it rightfully belonged. They, however, who set a revolution in motion
have not always the power to stop it. If they can succeed in giving it a
direction, they will probably be carried forward by it beyond their
intended limits, until, gathering confidence with success, they aim at
an end far higher than that which they had originally proposed. Such,
doubtless, was the case with William of Orange.
Notwithstanding the emperor's recommendation, the prince of Orange was
not the man whom Philip selected for his confidence. Nor was it possible
for William to regard the king with the same feelings which he had
entertained for the emperor. To Charles the prince was under obvious
obligations for his nurture in early life. His national pride, too, was
not wounded by having a Spaniard for his sovereign, since Charles was
not by birth, much less in heart, a Spaniard. All this was reversed in
Philip, in whom William saw only the representative of a detested race.
The prudent reserve which marked the character of each, no doubt,
prevented the outward demonstration of their sentiments; but from their
actions we may readily infer the instinctive aversion which the two
parties entertained for each other.
At the early age of eighteen, William married Anne of Egmont, daughter
of the count of Büren. The connection was a happy one, if we may trust
the loving tone of their correspondence. Unhappily, in a few years their
union was dissolved by the lady's death. The prince did not long remain
a widower, before he made proposals to the daughter of the duchess of
Lorraine. The prospect of such a match gave great dissatisfaction to
Philip, who had no mind to see his Flemish vassal allied with the family
of a great feudatory of France. Disappointed in this quarter, William
next paid his addresses to Anne of Saxony, an heiress, whose large
possessions made her one of the most brilliant matches in Germany.
William's passion and his interest, it was remarked, kept time well
together.
The course of love, however, was not destined to run smoothly on the
present occasion. Anne was the daughter of Maurice, the great Lutheran
champion, the implacable enemy of Charles the Fifth. Left early an
orphan, she had been reared in the family of her uncle, the elector of
Saxony, in the strictest tenets of the Lutheran faith. Such a connection
was, of course, every way distasteful to Philip, to whom William was
willing so far to defer as to solicit his approbation, though he did not
mean to be controlled by it.[498] The correspondence on the subject, in
which both the regent and Granvelle took an active part, occupies as
much space in collections of the period as more important negotiations.
The prince endeavored to silence the king's scruples, by declaring that
he was too much a Catholic at heart to marry any woman who was not of
the same persuasion as himself; and that he had received assurances from
the elector that his wife in this respect should entirely conform to his
wishes. The elector had scruples as to the match, no less than Philip,
though on precisely the opposite grounds; and, after the prince's
assurance to the king, one is surprised to find that an understanding
must have existed with the elector that Anne should be allowed the
undisturbed enjoyment of her own religion.[499] This double dealing
leaves a disagreeable impression in regard to William's character. Yet
it does not seem, to judge from his later life, to be altogether
inconsistent with it. Machiavelli is the author whom he is said to have
had most frequently in his hand;[500] and in the policy with which he
shaped his course, we may sometimes fancy that we can discern the
influence of the Italian statesman.
The marriage was celebrated with great pomp at Leipsic, on the
twenty-fifth of August, 1561. The king of Denmark, several of the
electors, and many princes and nobles of both Germany and the Low
Countries, were invited guests; and the whole assembly present on the
occasion was estimated at nearly six thousand persons.[501] The king of
Spain complimented the bride by sending her a jewel worth three thousand
ducats.[502] It proved, however, as Granvelle had predicted, an
ill-assorted union. After living together for nearly thirteen years, the
prince, weary of the irregularities of his wife, separated from her, and
sent her back to her friends in Germany.
[Sidenote: WILLIAM OF ORANGE.]
During his residence in Brussels, William easily fell into the way of
life followed by the Flemish nobles. He was very fond of the healthy
exercise of the chase, and especially of hawking. He was social, indeed
convivial, in his habits, after the fashion of his countrymen;[503] and
was addicted to gallantries, which continued long enough, it is said, to
suggest an apology for the disorderly conduct of his wife. He occupied
the ancient palace of his family at Brussels, where he was surrounded by
lords and cavaliers, and a numerous retinue of menials.[504] He lived in
great state, displaying a profuse magnificence in his entertainments;
and few there were, natives or foreigners, who had any claim on his
hospitality, that did not receive it.[505] By this expensive way of
life, he encumbered his estate with a heavy debt; amounting, if we may
take Granvelle's word, to nine hundred thousand florins.[506] Yet, if
William's own account, but one year later, be true, the debt was then
brought within a very moderate compass.[507]
With his genial habits and love of pleasure, and with manners the most
attractive, he had not the free and open temper which often goes along
with them. He was called by his contemporaries "William the Silent."
Perhaps the epithet was intended to indicate not so much his
taciturnity, as that impenetrable reserve which locked up his secrets
closely within his bosom. No man knew better how to keep his counsel,
even from those who acted with him. But while masking his own designs,
no man was more sagacious in penetrating those of others. He carried on
an extensive correspondence in foreign countries, and employed every
means for getting information. Thus, while he had it in his power to
outwit others, it was very rare that he became their dupe. Though on
ordinary occasions frugal of words, when he did speak it was with
effect. His eloquence was of the most persuasive kind;[508] and as
towards his inferiors he was affable, and exceedingly considerate of
their feelings, he acquired an unbounded ascendancy over his
countrymen.[509] It must be admitted that the prince of Orange possessed
many rare qualities for the leader of a great revolution.
The course William took in respect to his wife's religion might lead one
to doubt whether he were at heart Catholic or Protestant; or indeed
whether he were not equally indifferent to both persuasions. The latter
opinion might be strengthened by a remark imputed to him, that "he would
not have his wife trouble herself with such melancholy books as the
Scriptures, but instead of them amuse herself with Amadis de Gaul, and
other pleasant works of the kind."[510] "The prince of Orange," says a
writer of the time, "passed for a Catholic among Catholics, a Lutheran
among Lutherans. If he could, he would have had a religion compounded of
both. In truth, he looked on the Christian religion like the ceremonies
which Numa introduced, as a sort of politic invention."[511] Granvelle,
in a letter to Philip, speaks much to the same purpose.[512] These
portraits were by unfriendly hands. Those who take a different view of
his character, while they admit that in his early days his opinions in
matters of faith were unsettled, contend that in time he became
sincerely attached to the doctrines which he defended with his sword.
This seems to be no more than natural. But the reader will have an
opportunity of judging for himself, when he has followed the great chief
through the changes of his stormy career.
It would be strange, indeed, if the leader in a religious revolution
should have been himself without any religious convictions. One thing is
certain, he possessed a spirit of toleration, the more honorable that in
that day it was so rare. He condemned the Calvinists as restless and
seditious; the Catholics, for their bigoted attachment to a dogma.
Persecution in matters of faith he totally condemned, for freedom of
judgment in such matters he regarded as the inalienable right of
man.[513] These conclusions, at which the world, after an incalculable
amount of human suffering, has been three centuries in arriving, (has it
altogether arrived at them yet?) must be allowed to reflect great credit
on the character of William.
[Sidenote: GROUNDS OF COMPLAINT.]