a most ludicrous race run by all these grandees, in order to be the first
to greet his Highness. While Mansfeld and Fuentes were squabbling, as
usual, Arschot got the start of both, and arrived at Treves. Then the
decrepit Peter Ernest struggled as far as Luxembourg, while Fuentes
posted on to Namur. The archduke was much perplexed as to the arranging
of all these personages on the day of his entrance into Brussels. In the
council of state it was still worse. Arschot claimed the first place as
duke and as senior member, Peter Ernest demanded it as late governor-
general and because of his grey hairs. Never was imperial highness more
disturbed, never was clamour for loaves and fishes more deafening. The
caustic financier--whose mind was just then occupied with the graver
matter of assassination on a considerable scale--looked with profound
contempt at the spectacle thus presented to him. "There has been the
devil's own row," said he, "between these counts about offices, and also
about going out to receive the most serene archduke. I have had such
work with them that by the salvation of my soul I swear if it were to
last a fortnight longer I would go off afoot to Spain, even if I were
sure of dying in jail after I got there. I have reconciled the two
counts (Fuentes and Mansfeld) with each other a hundred times, and
another hundred times they have fallen out again, and behaved themselves
with such vulgarity that I blushed for them. They are both to blame,
but at any rate we have now got the archduke housed, and he will get
us out of this embarrassment."
The archduke came with rather a prejudice against the Spaniards--
the result doubtless of his disappointment in regard to France--and he
manifested at first an extreme haughtiness to those of that nation with
whom he came in contact. A Castilian noble of high rank, having audience
with him on one occasion, replaced his hat after salutation, as he had
been accustomed to do--according to the manner of grandees of Spain--
during the government of Farnese. The hat was rudely struck from his
head by the archduke's chamberlain, and he was himself ignominiously
thrust out of the presence. At another time an interview was granted to
two Spanish gentlemen who had business to transact. They made their
appearance in magnificent national costume, splendidly embroidered in
gold. After a brief hearing they were dismissed, with appointment of
another audience for a few days later. When they again presented
themselves they found the archduke with his court jester standing at his
side, the buffoon being attired in a suit precisely similar to their own,
which in the interval had been prepared by the court tailor.
Such amenities as these did not increase the popularity of Ernest with
the high-spirited Spaniards, nor was it palatable to them that it should
be proposed to supersede the old fighting Portuguese, Verdugo, as
governor and commander-in-chief for the king in Friesland, by Frederic
van den Berg, a renegade Netherlander, unworthy cousin of the Nassaus,
who had never shown either military or administrative genius.
Nor did he succeed in conciliating the Flemings or the Germans by these
measures. In truth he was, almost without his own knowledge, under the
controlling influence of Fuentes, the most unscrupulous and dangerous
Spaniard of them all, while his every proceeding was closely watched not
only by Diego and Stephen Ybarra, but even by Christoval de Moura, one
of Philip's two secretaries of state who at this crisis made a visit
to Brussels.
These men were indignant at the imbecility of the course pursued in the
obedient provinces. They knew that the incapacity of the Government to
relieve the sieges of Gertruydenberg and Groningen had excited the
contempt of Europe, and was producing a most damaging effect an Spanish
authority throughout Christendom. They were especially irritated by the
presence of the arch-intrigues, Mayenne, in Brussels, even after all his
double dealings had been so completely exposed that a blind man could
have read them. Yet there was Mayenne, consorting with the archduke, and
running up a great bill of sixteen thousand florins at the hotel, which
the royal paymaster declined to settle for want of funds, notwithstanding
Ernest's order to that effect, and there was no possibility of inducing
the viceroy to arrest him, much as he had injured and defrauded the king.
How severely Ybarra and Feria denounced Mayenne has been seen; but
remonstrances about this and other grave mistakes of administration
were lost upon Ernest, or made almost impossible by his peculiar temper.
"If I speak of these things to his Highness," said Ybarra, "he will begin
to cry, as he always does."
Ybarra, however, thought it his duty secretly to give the king frequent
information as to the blasted and forlorn condition of the provinces.
"This sick man will die in our arms," he said, "without our wishing to
kill him." He also left no doubt in the royal mind as to the utter
incompetency of the archduke for his office. Although he had much
Christianity, amiability, and good intentions, he was so unused to
business, so slow and so lazy, so easily persuaded by those around him,
as to be always falling into errors. He was the servant of his own
servants, particularly of those least disposed to the king's service
and most attentive to their own interests. He had endeavoured to make
himself beloved by the natives of the country, while the very reverse
of this had been the result.
"As to his agility and the strength of his body," said the Spaniard, as
if he were thinking of certain allegories which were to mark the
archduke's triumphal entry, "they are so deficient as to leave him unfit
for arms. I consider him incapable of accompanying an army to the field,
and we find him so new to all such affairs as constitute government and
the conduct of warlike business, that he could not steer his way without
some one to enlighten and direct him."
It was sometimes complained of in those days--and the thought has even
prolonged itself until later times--that those republicans of the United
Netherlands had done and could do great things; but that, after all,
there was no grandeur about them. Certainly they had done great things.
It was something to fight the Ocean for ages, and patiently and firmly to
shut him out from his own domain. It was something to extinguish the
Spanish Inquisition--a still more cruel and devouring enemy than the sea.
It was something that the fugitive spirit of civil and religious liberty
had found at last its most substantial and steadfast home upon those
storm-washed shoals and shifting sandbanks.
It was something to come to the rescue of England in her great agony, and
help to save her from invasion. It was something to do more than any
nation but England, and as much as she, to assist Henry the Huguenot to
the throne of his ancestors and to preserve the national unity of France
which its own great ones had imperilled. It was something to found two
magnificent universities, cherished abodes of science and of antique
lore, in the midst of civil commotions and of resistance to foreign
oppression. It was something, at the same period, to lay the foundation
of a systew of common schools--so cheap as to be nearly free--for rich
and poor alike, which, in the words of one of the greatest benefactors
to the young republic, "would be worth all the soldiers, arsenals,
armouries, munitions, and alliances in the world." It was something to
make a revolution, as humane as it was effective, in military affairs,
and to create an army whose camps were European academies. It was
something to organize, at the same critical period, on the most skilful
and liberal scale, to carry out with unexampled daring, sagacity, and
fortitude, great voyages of discovery to the polar regions, and to open
new highways for commerce, new treasures for science. Many things of
this nature had been done by the new commonwealth; but, alas! she did not
drape herself melodramatically, nor stalk about with heroic wreath and
cothurn. She was altogether without grandeur.
When Alva had gained his signal victories, and followed them up by
those prodigious massacres which, but for his own and other irrefragable
testimony, would seem too monstrous for belief, he had erected a colossal
statue to himself, attired in the most classical of costumes, and
surrounded with the most mythological of attributes. Here was grandeur.
But William the Silent, after he had saved the republic, for which he had
laboured during his whole lifetime and was destined to pour out his
heart's blood, went about among the brewers and burghers with unbuttoned
doublet and woollen bargeman's waistcoat. It was justly objected to his
clothes, by the euphuistic Fulke Greville, that a meanborn student of the
Inns of Court would have been ashamed to walk about London streets in
them.
And now the engineering son of that shabbily-dressed personage had been
giving the whole world lessons in the science of war, and was fairly
perfecting the work which William and his great contemporaries had so
well begun. But if all this had been merely doing great things without
greatness, there was one man in the Netherlands who knew what grandeur
was. He was not a citizen of the disobedient republic, however, but a
loyal subject of the obedient provinces, and his name was John Baptist
Houwaerts, an eminent schoolmaster of Brussels. He was still more
eminent as a votary of what was called "Rhetoric" and as an arranger of
triumphal processions and living pictures.
The arrival of Archduke Ernest at the seat of the provincial Government
offered an opportunity, which had long been wanting, for a display of
John Baptist's genius. The new viceroy was in so shattered a condition
of health, so crippled with the gout, as to be quite unable to stand, and
it required the services of several lackeys to lift him into and out of
his carriage. A few days of repose therefore were indispensable to him
before he could make his "joyous entrance" into the capital. But the day
came at last, and the exhibition was a masterpiece.
It might have seemed that the abject condition of the Spanish provinces--
desolate, mendicant, despairing--would render holiday making impossible.
But although almost every vestige of the ancient institutions had
vanished from the obedient Netherlands as a reward for their obedience;
although to civil and religious liberty, law, order, and a thriving
commercial and manufacturing existence, such as had been rarely witnessed
in the world, had succeeded the absolute tyranny of Jesuits, universal
beggary, and a perennial military mutiny--setting Government at defiance
and plundering the people--there was one faithful never deserted Belgica,
and that was Rhetoric.
Neither the magnificence nor the pedantry of the spectacles by which the
entry of the mild and inefficient Ernest into Brussels and Antwerp was
now solemnized had ever been surpassed. The town councils, stimulated by
hopes absolutely without foundation as to great results to follow the
advent of the emperor's brother, had voted large sums and consumed many
days in anxious deliberation upon the manner in which they should be
expended so as most to redound to the honour of Ernest and the reputation
of the country.
In place of the "bloody tragedies of burning, murdering, and ravishing,"
of which the provinces had so long been the theatre, it was resolved
that, "Rhetoric's sweet comedies, amorous jests, and farces," should
gladden all eyes and hearts. A stately procession of knights and
burghers in historical and mythological costumes, followed by ships,
dromedaries, elephants, whales, giants, dragons, and other wonders of
the sea and shore, escorted the archduke into the city. Every street and
square was filled with triumphal arches, statues and platforms, on which
the most ingenious and thoroughly classical living pictures were
exhibited. There was hardly an eminent deity of Olympus, or hero of
ancient history, that was not revived and made visible to mortal eyes
in the person of Ernestus of Austria.
On a framework fifty-five feet high and thirty-three feet in breadth he
was represented as Apollo hurling his darts at an enormous Python, under
one of whose fore-paws struggled an unfortunate burgher, while the other
clutched a whole city; Tellus, meantime, with her tower on her head,
kneeling anxious and imploring at the feet of her deliverer. On another
stage Ernest assumed the shape of Perseus; Belgica that of the bound and
despairing Andromeda. On a third, the interior of Etna was revealed,
when Vulcan was seen urging his Cyclops to forge for Ernest their most
tremendous thunderbolts with which to smite the foes of the provinces,
those enemies being of course the English and the Hollanders. Venus, the
while, timidly presented an arrow to her husband, which he was requested
to sharpen, in order that when the wars were over Cupid, therewith might
pierce the heart of some beautiful virgin, whose charms should reward
Ernest--fortunately for the female world, still a bachelor--for his
victories and his toils.
The walls of every house were hung with classic emblems and inscribed
with Latin verses. All the pedagogues of Brussels and Antwerp had been
at work for months, determined to amaze the world with their dithyrambics
and acrostics, and they had outdone themselves.
Moreover, in addition to all these theatrical spectacles and pompous
processions--accompanied as they were by blazing tar-barrels, flying
dragons, and leagues of flaring torches--John Baptist, who had been
director-in-chief of all the shows successively arranged to welcome Don
John of Austria, Archduke Matthias, Francis of Alengon, and even William
of Orange, into the capital, had prepared a feast of a specially
intellectual character for the new governor-general.
The pedant, according to his own account, so soon as the approach of
Ernest had been announced, fell straightway into a trance. While he was
in that condition, a beautiful female apparition floated before his eyes,
and, on being questioned, announced her name to be Moralization. John
Baptist begged her to inform him whether it were true, as had been
stated, that Jupiter had just sent Mercury to the Netherlands. The
phantom, correcting his mistake, observed that the king of gods and men
had not sent Hermes but the Archduke Ernestus, beloved of the three
Graces, favourite of the nine Muses, and, in addition to these
advantages, nephew and brother-in-law of the King of Spain, to the relief
of the suffering provinces. The Netherlands, it was true, for their
religious infidelity, had justly incurred great disasters and misery; but
benignant Jove, who, to the imagination of this excited Fleming, seemed
to have been converted to Catholicism while still governing the universe,
had now sent them in mercy a deliverer. The archduke would speedily
relieve "bleeding Belgica" from her sufferings, bind up her wounds, and
annihilate her enemies. The spirit further informed the poet that the
forests of the Low Countries--so long infested by brigands, wood-beggars,
and malefactors of all kinds--would thenceforth swarm with "nymphs,
rabbits, hares, and animals of that nature."
A vision of the conquering Ernest, attended by "eight-and-twenty noble
and pleasant females, marching two and two, half naked, each holding a
torch in one hand and a laurel-wreath in the other," now swept before the
dreamer's eyes." He naturally requested the "discreet spirit" to mention
the names of this bevy of imperfectly attired ladies thronging so
lovingly around the fortunate archduke, and was told that "they were
the eight-and-twenty virtues which chiefly characterized his serene
Highness." Prominent in this long list, and they were all faithfully
enumerated, were Philosophy, Audacity, Acrimony, Virility, Equity, Piety,
Velocity, and Alacrity." The two last-mentioned qualities could hardly
be attributed to the archduke in his decrepit condition, except in an
intensely mythological sense. Certainly, they would have been highly
useful virtues to him at that moment. The prince who had just taken
Gertruydenberg, and was then besieging Groningen, was manifesting his
share of audacity, velocity, and other good gifts on even a wider
platform than that erected for Ernest by John Baptist Houwaerts; and
there was an admirable opportunity for both to develope their respective
characteristics for the world's judgment.
Meantime the impersonation of the gentle and very gouty invalid as
Apollo, as Perseus, as the feather-heeled Mercury, was highly applauded
by the burghers of Brussels.
And so the dreamer dreamed on, and the discreet nymph continued to
discourse, until John Baptist, starting suddenly from his trance beheld
that it was all a truth and no vision. Ernest was really about to enter
the Netherlands, and with him the millennium. The pedant therefore
proceeded to his desk, and straightway composed the very worst poem that
had ever been written in any language, even Flemish.
There were thousands of lines in it, and not a line without a god or a
goddess.
Mars, Nemesis, and Ate, Pluto, Rhadamanthus, and Minos, the Fates and
the Furies, together with Charon, Calumnia, Bellona, and all such
objectionable divinities, were requested to disappear for ever from the
Low Countries; while in their stead were confidently invoked Jupiter,
Apollo, Triptolemus, and last, though not least, Rhetorica.
Enough has been said of this raree-show to weary the reader's patience,
but not more than enough to show the docile and enervated nature of this
portion of a people who had lost everything for which men cherish their
fatherland, but who could still find relief--after thirty years of
horrible civil war in painted pageantry, Latin versification, and the
classical dictionary.
Yet there was nothing much more important achieved by the archduke in the
brief period for which his administration was destined to endure.
Three phenomena chiefly marked his reign, but his own part in the three
was rather a passive than an active one--mutiny, assassination, and
negotiation--the two last attempted on a considerable scale but ending
abortively.
It is impossible to exaggerate the misery of the obedient provinces at
this epoch. The insane attempt of the King of Spain, with such utterly
inadequate machinery, to conquer the world has been sufficiently dilated
upon. The Spanish and Italian and Walloon soldiers were starving in
Brabant and Flanders in order that Spanish gold might be poured into the
bottomless pit of the Holy League in France.
The mutiny that had broken forth the preceding year in Artois and Hamault
was now continued on a vast scale in Brabant. Never had that national
institution--a Spanish mutiny--been more thoroughly organized, more
completely carried out in all its details. All that was left of the
famous Spanish discipline and military science in this their period of
rapid decay, seemed monopolized by the mutineers. Some two thousand
choice troops (horse and foot), Italians and Spanish, took possession of
two considerable cities, Sichem and Arschot, and ultimately concentrated
themselves at Sichem, which they thoroughly fortified. Having chosen
their Eletto and other officers they proceeded regularly to business.
To the rallying point came disaffected troops of all nations from far
and near. Never since the beginning of the great war had there been so
extensive a military rebellion, nor one in which so many veteran
officers, colonels, captains, and subalterns took part. The army of
Philip had at last grown more dangerous to himself than to the
Hollanders.
The council at Brussels deliberated anxiously upon the course to be
pursued, and it was decided at last to negotiate with instead of
attacking them. But it was soon found that the mutineers were as hard
to deal with as were the republicans on the other side the border. They
refused to hear of anything short of complete payment of the enormous
arrears due to them, with thorough guarantees and hostages that any
agreement made between themselves and the archduke should be punctually
carried out. Meanwhile they ravaged the country far and near, and levied
their contributions on towns and villages, up to the very walls of
Brussels, and before the very eyes of the viceroy.
Moreover they entered into negotiation with Prince Maurice of Nassau, not
offering to enlist under his flag, but asking for protection against the
king in exchange for a pledge meanwhile not to serve his cause. At last
the archduke plucked up a heart and sent some troops against the rebels,
who had constructed two forts on the river Demer near the city of Sichem.
In vain Velasco, commander of the expedition, endeavoured to cut off the
supplies for these redoubts. The vigour and audacity of the rebel
cavalry made the process impossible. Velasco then attempted to storm the
lesser stronghold of the two, but was repulsed with the loss of two
hundred killed. Among these were many officers, one of whom, Captain
Porto Carrero, was a near relative of Fuentes. After a siege, Velasco,
who was a marshal of the camp of considerable distinction, succeeded in
driving the mutineers out of the forts; who, finding their position
thus weakened, renewed their negotiations with Maurice. They at last
obtained permission from the prince to remain under the protection of
Gertruydenberg and Breda until they could ascertain what decision the
archduke would take. More they did not ask of Maurice, nor did he
require more of them.
The mutiny, thus described in a few lines, had occupied nearly a year,
and had done much to paralyze for that period all the royal operations in
the Netherlands. In December the rebellious troops marched out of Sichem
in perfect order, and came to Langstraet within the territory of the
republic.
The archduke now finding himself fairly obliged to treat with them sent
an offer of the same terms which had been proposed to mutineers on
previous occasions. At first they flatly refused to negotiate at all,
but at last, with the permission of Maurice, who conducted himself
throughout with scrupulous delicacy, and made no attempts to induce them
to violate their allegiance to the king, they received Count Belgioso,
the envoy of the archduke. They held out for payment of all their
arrears up to the last farthing, and insisted on a hostage of rank until
the debt should be discharged. Full forgiveness of their rebellious
proceedings was added as a matter of course. Their terms were accepted,
and Francisco Padiglia was assigned as a hostage. They then established
themselves, according to agreement, at Tirlemont, which they were allowed
to fortify at the expense of the province and to hold until the money for
their back wages could be scraped together. Meantime they received daily
wages and rations from the Government at Brussels, including thirty
stivers a day for each horseman, thirteen crowns a day for the Eletto,
and ten crowns a day for each counsellor, making in all five hundred
crowns a day. And here they remained, living exceedingly at their ease
and enjoying a life of leisure for eighteen months, and until long after
the death of the archduke, for it was not until the administration of
Cardinal Albert that the funds, amounting to three hundred and sixty
thousand crowns, could be collected.
These were the chief military exploits of the podagric Perseus in behalf
of the Flemish Andromeda.
A very daring adventure was however proposed to the archduke. Philip
calmly suggested that an expedition should be rapidly fitted out in
Dunkirk, which should cross the channel, ascend the Thames as far as
Rochester, and burn the English fleet. "I am informed by persons well
acquainted with the English coast," said the king, "that it would be an
easy matter for a few quick-sailing vessels to accomplish this. Two or
three thousand soldiers might be landed at Rochester who might burn or
sink all the unarmed vessels they could find there, and the expedition
could return and sail off again before the people of the country could
collect in sufficient numbers to do them any damage." The archduke was
instructed to consult with Fuentes and Ybarra as to whether this little
matter, thus parenthetically indicated, could be accomplished without too
much risk and trouble.