This important agreement was originally signed by eight leading
personages, the Abbot of Saint Gertrude, the Counts Lalain and Bossu,
and the Seigneur de Champagny being among the number. Its tenor was to
engage its signers to compass the immediate expulsion of the Spaniards
and the execution of the Ghent Pacification, to maintain the Catholic
religion and the King's authority, and to defend the fatherland and all
its constitutions. Its motive was to generalize the position assumed by
the Ghent treaty. The new act was to be signed, not by a few special
deputies alone, like a diplomatic convention, but by all the leading
individuals of all the provinces, in order to exhibit to Don John such an
array of united strength that he would find himself forced to submit to
the demands of the estates. The tenor, motive, and effect were all as
had been proposed and foreseen. The agreement to expel the Spaniards,
under the Catholic and loyal manifestations indicated, passed from hand
to hand through all the provinces. It soon received the signature and
support of all the respectability, wealth, and intelligence of the whole
country. Nobles, ecclesiastics, citizens, hastened to give to it their
adhesion. The states-general had sent it, by solemn resolution, to every
province, in order that every man might be forced to range himself either
upon the side of the fatherland or of despotism. Two copies of the
signatures procured in each province were ordered, of which one was to be
deposited in its archives, and the other forwarded to Brussels. In a
short time, every province, with the single exception of Luxemburg, had
loaded the document with signatures. This was a great step in advance.
The Ghent Pacification, which was in the nature of a treaty between the
Prince and the estates of Holland and Zealand on the one side, and a
certain number of provinces on the other, had only been signed by the
envoys of the contracting parties. Though received with deserved and
universal acclamation, it had not the authority of a popular document.
This, however, was the character studiously impressed upon the "Brussels
Union." The people, subdivided according to the various grades of their
social hierarchy, had been solemnly summoned to council, and had
deliberately recorded their conviction. No restraint had been put upon
their freedom of action, and there was hardly a difference of opinion as
to the necessity of the measure.
A rapid revolution in Friesland, Groningen, and the dependencies,
had recently restored that important country to the national party.
The Portuguese De Billy had been deprived of his authority as King's
stadholder, and Count Hoogstraaten's brother, Baron de Ville, afterwards
as Count Renneberg infamous for his, treason to the cause of liberty, had
been appointed by the estates in his room. In all this district the
"Union of Brussels" was eagerly signed by men of every degree. Holland
and Zealand, no less than the Catholic provinces of the south willingly
accepted the compromise which was thus laid down, and which was thought
to be not only an additional security for the past, not only a pillar
more for the maintenance of the Ghent Pacification, but also a sure
precursor of a closer union in the future. The Union of Brussels became,
in fact, the stepping-stone to the "Union of Utrecht," itself the
foundation-stone of a republic destined to endure more than two
centuries. On the other hand, this early union held the seed, of its own
destruction within itself. It was not surprising, however, that a strong
declaration in favor of the Catholic religion should be contained in a
document intended for circulation through all the provinces. The object
was to unite as large a force, and to make as striking a demonstration
before the eyes of the Governor General as was practicable under the
circumstances. The immediate purpose was answered, temporary union was
formed, but it was impossible that a permanent crystallization should
take place where so strong a dissolvent as the Catholic clause had been
admitted. In the sequel, therefore, the union fell asunder precisely at
this fatal flaw. The next union was that which definitely separated the
provinces into Protestant, and Catholic, into self-governing republics,
and the dependencies of a distant despotism. The immediate effect,
however, of the "Brussels Union" was to rally all lovers of the
fatherland and haters of a foreign tyranny upon one vital point--the
expulsion of the stranger from the land. The foot of the Spanish soldier
should no longer profane their soil. All men were forced to pronounce
themselves boldly and unequivocally, in order that the patriots might
stand shoulder to shoulder, and the traitors be held up to infamy. This
measure was in strict accordance with the advice given more than once by
the Prince of Orange, and was almost in literal fulfilment of the
Compromise, which he had sketched before the arrival of Don John.
The deliberations were soon resumed with the new Governor, the scene
being shifted from Luxemburg to Huy. Hither came a fresh deputation from
the states-general--many signers of the Brussels Union among them--and
were received by Don John with stately courtesy: They had, however, come,
determined to carry matters with a high and firm hand, being no longer
disposed to brook his imperious demeanour, nor to tolerate his dilatory
policy. It is not surprising, therefore, that the courtesy soon changed
to bitterness, and that attack and recrimination usurped the place of the
dignified but empty formalities which had characterized the interviews at
Luxemburg.
The envoys, particularly Sweveghem and Champagny, made no concealment of
their sentiments towards the Spanish soldiery and the Spanish nation, and
used a freedom of tone and language which the petulant soldier had not
been accustomed to hear. He complained, at the outset, that the
Netherlanders seemed new-born--that instead of bending the knee, they
seemed disposed to grasp the sceptre. Insolence had taken the place of
pliancy, and the former slave now applied the chain and whip to his
master. With such exacerbation of temper at the commencement of
negotiations, their progress was of necessity stormy and slow.
The envoys now addressed three concise questions to the Governor. Was he
satisfied that the Ghent Pacification contained nothing conflicting with
the Roman religion and the King's authority? If so, was he willing to
approve that treaty in all its articles? Was he ready to dismiss his
troops at once, and by land, the sea voyage being liable to too many
objections?
Don John answered these three questions--which, in reality, were but
three forms of a single question--upon the same day, the 24th of January.
His reply was as complex as the demand had been simple. It consisted of
a proposal in six articles, and a requisition in twenty-one, making in
all twenty-seven articles. Substantially he proposed to dismiss the
foreign troops--to effect a general pacification of the Netherlands--
to govern on the basis of the administration in his imperial father's
reign--to arrange affairs in and with regard to the assembly-general as
the King should judge to be fitting--to forgive and forget past offences
--and to release all prisoners. On the other hand he required the
estates to pay the troops before their departure, and to provide ships
enough to transport them, as the Spaniards did not choose to go by land,
and as the deputies, at Luxemburg had consented to their removal by sea.
Furthermore, he demanded that the states should dismiss their own troops.
He required ecclesiastical authority to prove the Ghent Pacification not
prejudicial to the Catholic religion; legal authority that it was not
detrimental to his Majesty's supremacy; and an oath from the states-
general to uphold both points inviolably, and to provide for their
maintenance in Holland and Zealand. He claimed the right to employ about
his person soldiers and civil functionaries of any nation he might
choose, and he exacted from the states a promise to prevent the Prince of
Orange from removing his son, Count van Buren, forcibly or fraudulently,
from his domicile in Spain.
The deputies were naturally indignant at this elaborate trifling. They
had, in reality, asked him but one question, and that a simple one--Would
he maintain the treaty of Ghent? Here were twenty-seven articles in
reply, and yet no answer to that question. They sat up all night,
preparing a violent protocol, by which the Governor's claims were to be
utterly demolished. Early in the morning, they waited upon his Highness,
presented the document, and at the same time asked him plainly, by word
of mouth, did he or did he not intend to uphold the treaty. Thus pressed
into a corner in presence of the deputies, the members of the State
Council who were in attendance from Brussels, and the envoys whom the
Emperor had recently sent to assist at these deliberations, the Governor
answered, No. He would not and could not maintain the treaty, because
the Spanish troops were in that instrument denounced as rebels, because
he would not consent to the release of Count Van Buren--and on account of
various other reasons not then specified. Hereupon ensued a fierce
debate, and all day long the altercation lasted, without a result being
reached. At ten o'clock in the evening, the deputies having previously
retired for a brief interval, returned with a protest that they were not
to be held responsible for the, termination of the proceedings, and that
they washed their hands of the bloodshed which might follow the rupture.
Upon reading this document; Don John fell into a blazing passion. He
vehemently denounced the deputies as traitors. He swore that men who
came to him thus prepared with ready-made protests in their pockets, were
rebels from the commencement, and had never intended any agreement with
him. His language and gestures expressed unbounded fury. He was weary
of their ways, he said. They had better look to themselves, for the King
would never leave their rebellion unpunished. He was ready to draw the
sword at once--not his own, but his Majesty's, and they might be sure
that the war which they were thus provoking, should be the fiercest ever,
waged. More abusive language in this strain was uttered, but it was not
heard with lamb-like submission. The day had gone by when the deputies
of the states-general were wont to quail before the wrath of vicarious
royalty. The fiery words of Don John were not oil to troubled water, but
a match to a mine. The passions of the deputies exploded in their turn,
and from hot words they had nearly come to hard blows. One of the
deputies replied with so much boldness and vehemence that the Governor,
seizing a heavy silver bell which stood on the table, was about to hurl
it at the offender's head, when an energetic and providential
interference on the part of the imperial envoys, prevented the unseemly
catastrophe.
The day thus unprofitably spent, had now come to its close, and the
deputies left the presence of Don John with tempers as inflamed as his
own. They were, therefore, somewhat surprised at being awakened in their
beds, after midnight, by a certain Father Trigoso, who came to them with
a conciliatory message from the Governor. While they were still rubbing
their eyes with sleep and astonishment, the Duke of Aerschot, the Bishop
of Liege, and several councillors of state, entered the room. These
personages brought the news that Don John had at last consented to
maintain the Pacification of Ghent, as would appear by a note written in
his own hand, which was then delivered. The billet was eagerly read, but
unfortunately did not fulfil the anticipations which had been excited.
"I agree," said Don John, "to approve the peace made between the states
and the Prince of Orange, on condition that nothing therein may seem
detrimental to the authority of his Majesty and the supremacy of the
Catholic religion, and also with reservation of the points mentioned in
my last communication."
Men who had gone to bed in a high state of indignation were not likely to
wake in much better humour, when suddenly aroused in their first nap, to
listen to such a message as this. It seemed only one piece of trifling
the more. The deputies had offered satisfactory opinions of divines and
jurisconsults, as to the two points specified which concerned the Ghent
treaty. It was natural, therefore, that this vague condition concerning
them, the determination of which was for the Governor's breast alone,
should be instantly rejected, and that the envoys should return to their
disturbed slumbers with an increase of ill-humour.
On the morrow, as the envoys, booted and spurred, were upon the point of
departure for Brussels, another communication was brought to them from
Don John. This time, the language of the Governor seemed more to the
purpose. "I agree," said he, "to maintain the peace concluded between
the states and the Prince of Orange, on condition of receiving from the
ecclesiastical authorities, and from the University of Louvain,
satisfactory assurance that the said treaty contains nothing derogatory
to the Catholic religion--and similar assurance from the State Council,
the Bishop of Liege, and the imperial envoys, that the treaty is in no
wise prejudicial to the authority of his Majesty." Here seemed, at last,
something definite. These conditions could be complied with. They had,
in fact, been already complied with. The assurances required as to the
two points had already been procured, as the deputies and as Don John
well knew. The Pacification of Ghent was, therefore, virtually admitted.
The deputies waited upon the Governor accordingly, and the conversation
was amicable. They vainly endeavoured, however, to obtain his consent to
the departure of the troops by land--the only point then left in dispute.
Don John, still clinging to his secret scheme, with which the sea voyage
of the troops was so closely connected, refused to concede. He
reproached the envoys, on the contrary, with their importunity in making
a fresh demand, just as he had conceded the Ghent treaty, upon his entire
responsibility and without instructions. Mentally resolving that this
point should still be wrung from the Governor, but not suspecting his
secret motives for resisting it so strenuously, the deputies took an
amicable farewell of the Governor, promising a favorable report upon
the proceedings, so soon as they should arrive in Brussels.
Don John, having conceded so much, was soon obliged to concede the whole.
The Emperor Rudolph had lately succeeded his father, Maximilian. The
deceased potentate, whose sentiments on the great subject of religious
toleration were so much in harmony with those entertained by the Prince
of Orange, had, on the whole, notwithstanding the ties of relationship
and considerations of policy, uniformly befriended the Netherlands, so
far as words and protestations could go, at the court of Philip. Active
co-operation; practical assistance, he had certainly not rendered. He
had unquestionably been too much inclined to accomplish the impossibility
of assisting the states without offending the King--an effort which, in
the homely language of Hans Jenitz; was "like wishing his skin washed
without being wet." He had even interposed many obstacles to the free
action of the Prince, as has been seen in the course of this history, but
nevertheless, the cause of the Netherlands, of religion, and of humanity
had much to lose by his death. His eldest son and successor, Rudolph the
second, was an ardent Catholic, whose relations with a proscribed prince
and a reformed population could hardly remain long in a satisfactory
state. The New Emperor had, however, received the secret envoys of
Orange with bounty, and was really desirous of accomplishing the
pacification of the provinces. His envoys had assisted at all the
recent deliberations between the estates and Don John, and their vivid
remonstrances removed, at this juncture, the last objection on the part
of the Governor-General. With a secret sigh, he deferred the darling and
mysterious hope which had lighted him to the Netherlands, and consented
to the departure of the troops by land.
All obstacles having been thus removed, the memorable treaty called the
Perpetual Edict was signed at Marche en Famine on the 12th, and at
Brussels on the 17th of February, 1577. This document, issued in the
name of the King, contained nineteen articles. It approved and ratified
the Peace of Ghent, in consideration that the prelates and clergy, with
the doctors 'utriusque juris' of Louvain, had decided that nothing in
that treaty conflicted either with the supremacy of the Catholic Church
or the authority of the King, but, on the contrary, that it advanced the
interests of both. It promised that the soldiery should depart "freely,
frankly, and without delay; by land, never to return except in case of
foreign war"--the Spaniards to set forth within forty days, the Germans
and others so soon as arrangements had been made by the states-general
for their payment. It settled that all prisoners, on both sides, should
be released, excepting the Count Van Buren, who was to be set free so
soon as the states-general having been convoked, the Prince of Orange
should have fulfilled the resolutions to be passed by that assembly.
It promised the maintenance of all the privileges, charters, and
constitutions of the Netherlands. It required of the states all oath to
maintain the Catholic religion. It recorded their agreement to disband
their troops. It settled that Don John should be received as Governor-
General, immediately upon the departure of the Spaniards, Italians, and
Burgundians from the provinces.
These were the main provisions of this famous treaty, which was confirmed
a few weeks afterwards by Philip, in a letter addressed to the states of
Brabant, and by an edict issued at Madrid. It will be seen that
everything required by the envoys of the states, at the commencement
of their negotiations, had been conceded by Don John. They had claimed
the departure of the troops, either by land or sea. He had resisted the
demand a long time, but had at last consented to despatch them by sea.
Their departure by land had then been insisted upon. This again he had
most reluctantly conceded. The ratification of the Ghent treaty, he had
peremptorily refused. He had come to the provinces, at the instant of
its conclusion, and had, of course, no instructions on the subject.
Nevertheless, slowly receding, he had agreed, under certain reservations,
to accept the treaty. Those reservations relating to the great points of
Catholic and royal supremacy, he insisted upon subjecting to his own
judgment alone. Again he was overruled. Most unwillingly he agreed to
accept, instead of his own conscientious conviction, the dogmas of the
State Council and of the Louvain doctors. Not seeing very clearly how a
treaty which abolished the edicts of Charles the Fifth and the ordinances
of Alva--which removed the religious question in Holland and Zealand from
the King's jurisdiction to that of the states-general--which had caused
persecution to surcease--had established toleration--and which moreover,
had confirmed the arch rebel and heretic of all the Netherlands in the
government of the two rebellious and heretic provinces, as stadholder for
the King--not seeing very clearly how such a treaty was "advantageous
rather than prejudicial to royal absolutism and an exclusive
Catholicism," he naturally hesitated at first.
The Governor had thus disconcerted the Prince of Orange, not by the
firmness of his resistance, but by the amplitude of his concessions.
The combinations of William the Silent were, for an instant, deranged.
Had the Prince expected such liberality, he would have placed his demands
upon a higher basis, for it is not probable that he contemplated or
desired a pacification. The Duke of Aerschot and the Bishop of Liege in
vain essayed to prevail upon his deputies at Marche en Famine, to sign
the agreement of the 27th January, upon which was founded the Perpetual
Edict. They refused to do so without consulting the Prince and the
estates. Meantime, the other commissioners forced the affair rapidly
forward. The states sent a deputation to the Prince to ask his opinion,
and signed the agreement before it was possible to receive his reply.
This was to treat him with little courtesy, if not absolutely with bad
faith. The Prince was disappointed and indignant. In truth, as appeared
from all his language and letters, he had no confidence in Don John.
He believed him a consummate hypocrite, and as deadly a foe to the
Netherlands as the Duke of Alva, or Philip himself. He had carefully
studied twenty-five intercepted letters from the King, the Governor,
Jerome de Roda, and others, placed recently in his hands by the Duke of
Aerschot, and had found much to confirm previous and induce fresh
suspicion. Only a few days previously to the signature of the treaty,
he had also intercepted other letters from influential personages, Alonzo
de Vargas and others, disclosing extensive designs to obtain possession
of the strong places in the country, and then to reduce the land to
absolute Subjection. He had assured the estates, therefore, that the
deliberate intention of the Government, throughout the whole negotiation,
was to deceive, whatever might be the public language of Don John and his
agents. He implored them, therefore, to, have "pity upon the poor
country," and to save the people from falling into the trap which was
laid for them. From first to last, he had expressed a deep and wise
distrust, and justified it by ample proofs. He was, with reason,
irritated, therefore, at the haste with which the states had concluded
the agreement with Don John--at the celerity with which, as he afterwards
expressed it, "they had rushed upon the boar-spear of that sanguinary
heart." He believed that everything had been signed and Sworn by the
Governor, with the mental reservation that such agreements were valid
only until he should repent having made them. He doubted the good faith
and the stability of the grand seigniors. He had never felt confidence
in the professions of the time-serving Aerschot, nor did he trust even
the brave Champagny, notwithstanding his services at the sack of Antwerp.
He was especially indignant that provision had been made, not for
demolishing but for restoring to his Majesty those hateful citadels,
nests of tyranny, by which the flourishing cities of the land were kept
in perpetual anxiety. Whether in the hands of King, nobles, or
magistrates, they were equally odious to him, and he had long since
determined that they should be razed to the ground. In short, he
believed that the estates had thrust their heads into the lion's mouth,
and he foresaw the most gloomy consequences from the treaty which had
just been concluded. He believed, to use his own language, "that the
only difference between Don John and Alva or Requesens was, that he was
younger and more foolish than his predecessors, less capable of
concealing his venom, more impatient, to dip his hands in blood."
In the Pacification of Ghent, the Prince had achieved the prize of his
life-long labors. He had banded a mass of provinces by the ties of a
common history, language, and customs, into a league against a foreign
tyranny. He had grappled Holland and Zealand to their sister provinces
by a common love for their ancient liberties, by a common hatred to a
Spanish soldiery. He had exorcised the evil demon of religious bigotry
by which the body politic had been possessed so many years; for the Ghent
treaty, largely interpreted, opened the door to universal toleration. In
the Perpetual Edict the Prince saw his work undone. Holland and Zealand
were again cut adrift from the other fifteen provinces, and war would
soon be let loose upon that devoted little territory. The article
stipulating the maintenance of the Ghent treaty he regarded as idle wind;
the solemn saws of the State Council and the quiddities from Louvain
being likely to prove but slender bulwarks against the returning tide of
tyranny. Either it was tacitly intended to tolerate the Reformed
religion, or to hunt it down. To argue that the Ghent treaty, loyally
interpreted, strengthened ecclesiastical or royal despotism, was to
contend that a maniac was more dangerous in fetters than when armed with
a sword; it was to be blind to the difference between a private
conventicle and a public scaffold. The Perpetual Edict, while affecting
to sustain the treaty, would necessarily destroy it at a blow, while
during the brief interval of repose, tyranny would have renewed its youth
like the eagles. Was it possible, then, for William of Orange to sustain
the Perpetual Edict, the compromise with Don John? Ten thousand ghosts
from the Lake of Harlem, from the famine and plague-stricken streets of
Leyden, from the smoking ruins of Antwerp, rose to warn him against such
a composition with a despotism as subtle as it was remorseless.