the Netherlanders against a rupture of the negotiations because of the
India trade. It would be better to abandon that commerce, so he urged,
than to give up the hope of peace. The commissioners failed to see the
logic or to melt at the eloquence of his discourse. They would have been
still less inclined, if that were possible, to move from their position,
had they known of the secret conferences which Jeannin had just been
holding with Isaac le Maire of Amsterdam, and other merchants practically
familiar with the India trade. Carrying out the French king's plan to
rob the republic of that lucrative traffic, and to transplant it, by
means of experienced Hollanders, into France, the president, while openly
siding with the States, as their most disinterested friend, was secretly
doing all in his power to destroy the very foundation of their
commonwealth.
Isaac le Maire came over from Amsterdam in a mysterious manner, almost in
disguise. Had his nocturnal dealings with the French minister been
known, he would have been rudely dealt with by the East India Company.
He was a native of Tournay, not a sincere republican therefore, was very
strongly affected to France, and declared that all his former fellow-
townsmen, and many more, had the fleur-de-lys stamped on their hearts.
If peace should be made without stipulation in favour of the East India
Company, he, with his three brothers, would do what they could to
transfer that corporation to France. All the details of such a
prospective arrangement were thoroughly discussed, and it was intimated
that the king would be expected to take shares in the enterprise.
Jeannin had also repeated conferences on the same subject with the great
cosmographer Plancius. It may be well understood, therefore, that the
minister of Henry IV. was not very ardent to encourage the States in
their resolve to oppose peace or truce, except with concession of the
India trade.
The States preferred that the negotiations should come to nought on the
religious ground rather than on account of the India trade. The
provinces were nearly unanimous as to the prohibition of the Catholic
worship, not from bigotry for their own or hatred of other creeds, but
from larger views of what was then called tolerance, and from practical
regard for the necessities of the State. To permit the old worship, not
from a sense of justice but as an article of bargain with a foreign
power, was not only to abase the government of the States but to convert
every sincere Catholic throughout the republic into a grateful adherent
of Philip and the archdukes. It was deliberately to place a lever, to be
used in all future time, for the overthrow of their political structure.
In this the whole population was interested, while the India navigation,
although vital to the well-being of the nation, was not yet universally
recognised as so supremely important, and was declared by a narrow-minded
minority to concern the provinces of Holland and Zeeland alone.
All were silently agreed, therefore, to defer the religious question to
the last.
Especially, commercial greed induced the States to keep a firm clutch on
the great river on which the once splendid city of Antwerp stood. Ever
since that commercial metropolis had succumbed to Farnese, the republic
had maintained the lower forts, by means of which, and of Flushing at the
river's mouth, Antwerp was kept in a state of suspended animation. To
open the navigation of the Scheld, to permit free approach to Antwerp,
would, according to the narrow notions of the Amsterdam merchants, be
destructive to their own flourishing trade.
In vain did Richardot, in one well-fought conference, do his best to
obtain concessions on this important point. The States' commissioners
were as deaf as the Spaniards had been on the India question. Richardot,
no longer loud and furious, began to cry. With tears running down his
cheeks, he besought the Netherlanders not to insist so strenuously upon
all their points, and to remember that concessions were mutually
necessary, if an amicable arrangement were to be framed. The chances for
peace were promising. "Let not a blight be thrown over all our hopes,"
he exclaimed, "by too great pertinacity on either side. Above all, let
not the States dictate terms as to a captive or conquered king, but
propose such conditions as a benevolent but powerful sovereign could
accept."
These adjurations might be considered admirable, if it had been possible
for the royal commissioners to point to a single mustard-seed of
concession ever vouchsafed by them to the republic.
Meantime the month of March had passed. Nothing had been accomplished,
but it was agreed to prolong the armistice through April and May.
The negotiations having feebly dribbled off into almost absolute
extinction, Friar John was once more set in motion, and despatched to
Madrid. He was sent to get fresh instructions from Philip, and he
promised, on departing, to return in forty days. He hoped as his reward,
he said, to be made bishop of Utrecht. "That will be a little above your
calibre," replied Barneveld. Forty days was easily said, and the States
consented to the additional delay.
During his absence there was much tedious discussion of minor matters,
such as staple rights of wine and cloths, regulations of boundaries,
removal of restrictions on trade and navigation, passports, sequestered
estates, and the like; all of which were subordinate to the all-important
subjects of India and Religion, those two most tender topics growing so
much more tender the more they were handled as to cause at last a shiver
whenever they were approached. Nevertheless both were to be dealt with,
or the negotiations would fall to the ground.
The States felt convinced that they would fall to the ground, that they
had fallen to the ground, and they at least would not stoop to pick them
up again.
The forty days passed away, but the friar never returned. April and May
came and went, and again the armistice expired by its own limitation.
The war party was disgusted with the solemn trifling, Maurice was
exasperated beyond endurance, Barneveld and the peace men began to find
immense difficulty in confronting the gathering storm.
The prince, with difficulty, consented to a prolongation of the armistice
for two months longer; resolute to resume hostilities should no accord be
made before the end of July. The Advocate, with much earnestness, and
with more violence than was habitual with him, insisted on protracting
the temporary truce until the end of the year. The debates in the
States-General and the state-council were vehement; passion rose to
fever-heat, but the stadholder, although often half beside himself with
rage, ended by submitting once more to the will of Barneveld.
This was the easier, as the Advocate at last proposed an agreement which
seemed to Maurice and Lewis William even better than their own original
suggestion. It was arranged that the armistice should be prolonged until
the end of the year, but it was at the same time stipulated that unless
the negotiations had reached a definite result before the 1st of August,
they should be forthwith broken off.
Thus a period of enforced calm--a kind of vacation, as if these great
soldiers and grey-beards had been a troop of idle school-boys--was now
established, without the slightest reason.
President Jeannin took occasion to make a journey to Paris, leaving the
Hague on the 20th June.
During his absence a treaty of the States with England, similar in its
terms to the one recently concluded between the republic and France, but
only providing for half the number of auxiliary troops arranged for in
the French convention, was signed at the Hague. The English
plenipotentiaries, Vinwood and Spencer, wished to delay the exchange of
signatures under the pending negotiations with Spain and the archdukes
were brought to a close, as King James was most desirous at that epoch to
keep on good terms with his Catholic Majesty. The States were so urgent,
however, to bring at least this matter to a termination, and the English
so anxious lest France should gain still greater influence than she now
enjoyed in the provinces, that they at last gave way. It was further
stipulated in the convention that the debt of the States to England, then
amounting to L815,408 sterling, should be settled by annual payments of
L60,000; to begin with the expected peace.
Besides this debt to the English Government, the States-General owed nine
millions of florins (L900,000), and the separate provinces altogether
eighteen millions (L1,800,000). In short, there would be a deficiency
of at least three hundred thousand florins a month if the war went on,
although every imaginable device had already been employed for increasing
the revenue from taxation. It must be admitted therefore, that the
Barneveld party were not to be severely censured for their desire to
bring about an honourable peace.
That Jeannin was well aware of the disposition prevailing throughout a
great part of the commonwealth is certain. It is equally certain that he
represented to his sovereign, while at Paris, that the demand upon his
exchequer by the States, in case of the resumption of hostilities, would
be more considerable than ever. Immense was the pressure put upon Henry
by the Spanish court, during the summer, to induce him to abandon his
allies. Very complicated were the nets thrown out to entangle the wary
old politician in "the grey jacket and with the heart of gold," as he was
fond of designating himself, into an alliance with Philip and the
archdukes.
Don Pedro de Toledo, at the head of a magnificent embassy, arrived in
Paris with projects of arranging single, double, or triple marriages
between the respective nurseries of France and Spain. The Infanta might
marry with a French prince, and have all the Netherlands for her dower,
so soon as the childless archdukes should have departed this life.
Or an Infante might espouse a daughter of France with the same heritage
assigned to the young couple.
Such proposals, duly set forth in sonorous Spanish by the Constable of
Castile, failed to produce a very soothing effect on Henry's delicate
ear. He had seen and heard enough of gaining thrones by Spanish
marriages. Had not the very crown on his own head, which he had won with
foot in stirrup and lance in rest, been hawked about for years, appended
to the wedding ring of the Spanish Infanta? It might become convenient
to him at some later day, to form a family alliance with the house of
Austria, although he would not excite suspicion in the United Provinces
by openly accepting it then. But to wait for the shoes of Albert and
Isabella, and until the Dutch republic had been absorbed into the
obedient Netherlands by his assistance, was not a very flattering
prospect for a son or daughter of France. The ex-Huguenot and
indomitable campaigner in the field or in politics was for more drastic
measures. Should the right moment come, he knew well enough how to
strike, and could appropriate the provinces, obedient or disobedient,
without assistance from the Spanish babies.
Don Pedro took little by his propositions. The king stoutly declared
that the Netherlands were very near to his heart, and that he would never
abandon them on any consideration. So near, indeed, that he meant to
bring them still nearer, but this was not then suspected by the Spanish
court; Henry, the while, repelling as a personal insult to himself the
request that he should secretly labour to reduce the United Provinces
under subjection to the archdukes. It had even been proposed that he
should sign a secret convention to that effect, and there were those
about the court who were not ill-disposed for such a combination.
The king was, however, far too adroit to be caught in any such trap.
The marriage proposals in themselves he did not dislike, but Jeannin
and he were both of a mind that they should be kept entirely secret.
Don Pedro, on the contrary, for obvious reasons, was for making the
transactions ostentatiously public, and, as a guarantee of his master's
good faith in regard to the heritage of the Netherlands, he proposed that
every portion of the republic, thenceforth to be conquered by the allies,
should be confided to hands in which Henry and the archdukes would have
equal confidence.
But these artifices were too trivial to produce much effect. Henry
remained true, in his way, to the States-General, and Don Pedro was much
laughed at in Paris, although the public scarcely knew wherefore.
These intrigues had not been conducted so mysteriously but that Barneveld
was aware of what was going on. Both before Jeannin's departure from the
Hague in June, and on his return in the middle of August, he catechised
him very closely on the subject. The old Leaguer was too deep, however,
to be thoroughly pumped, even by so practised a hand as the Advocate's,
so that more was suspected than at the time was accurately known.
As, at the memorable epoch of the accession of the King of Scots to the
throne of Elizabeth, Maximilian de Bethune had flattered the new monarch
with the prospect of a double marriage, so now Don Fernando Girono had
been sent on solemn mission to England, in order to offer the same
infants to James which Don Pedro was placing at the disposition of Henry.
The British sovereign, as secretly fascinated by the idea of a Spanish
family alliance as he had ever been by the proposals of the Marquis de
Rosny for the French marriages, listened with eagerness. Money was
scattered as profusely among the English courtiers by Don Fernando as had
been done by De Bethune four years before. The bribes were accepted, and
often by the very personages who knew the colour of Bourbon money, but
the ducats were scarcely earned. Girono, thus urging on the English
Government the necessity of deserting the republic and cementing a
cordial, personal, and political understanding between James and Philip,
effected but little. It soon became thoroughly understood in England
that the same bargaining was going on simultaneously in France. As it
was evident that the Spanish children could not be disposed of in both
markets at the same time, it was plain to the dullest comprehension that
either the brokerage of Toledo or of Girono was a sham, and that a policy
erected upon such flimsy foundations would soon be washed away.
It is certain, however, that James, while affecting friendship for the
States, and signing with them the league of mutual assistance, was
secretly longing to nibble the bait dangled before him by Girono, and was
especially determined to prevent, if possible, the plans of Toledo.
Meantime, brother John Neyen was dealing with Philip and the Duke of
Lerma, in Spain.
The friar strenuously urged upon the favourite and the rest of the royal
advisers the necessity of prompt action with the States. This needed not
interfere with an unlimited amount of deception. It was necessary to
bring the negotiations to a definite agreement. It would be by no means
requisite, however, to hold to that agreement whenever a convenient
opportunity for breaking it should present itself. The first object of
Spanish policy, argued honest John, should be to get the weapons out of
the rebels' hands. The Netherlanders ought to be encouraged to return to
their usual pursuits of commerce and manufactures, whence they derived
their support, and to disband their military and naval forces. Their
sailors and traders should be treated kindly in Spain, instead of being
indulged as heretofore with no hospitality save that of the Holy
Inquisition and its dungeons. Let their minds be disarmed of all
suspicion. Now the whole population of the provinces had been convinced
that Spain, in affecting to treat, was secretly devising means to re-
impose her ancient yoke upon their necks.
Time went by in Aranjuez and Madrid. The forty days, promised as the
period of Neyen's absence, were soon gone; but what were forty days, or
forty times forty, at the Spanish court? The friar, who, whatever his
faults, was anything but an idler, chafed at a procrastination which
seemed the more stupendous to him, coming fresh as he did from a busy
people who knew the value of time. In the anguish of his soul he went to
Rodrigo Calderon, of the privy council, and implored his influence with
Government to procure leave for him to depart. Calderon, in urbane but
decisive terms, assured him that this would be impossible before the king
should return to Madrid. The monk then went to Idiaquez, who was in
favour of his proceeding at once to the Netherlands, but who on being
informed that Calderon was of a different opinion, gave up the point.
More distressed than ever, Neyen implored Prada's assistance, but Prada
plunged him into still deeper despair. His Majesty, said that
counsellor, with matchless effrontery, was studying the propositions of
the States-General, and all the papers in the negotiation, line by line,
comma by comma. There were many animadversions to make, many counter
suggestions to offer. The king was pondering the whole subject most
diligently. When those lucubrations were finished, the royal decision,
aided by the wisdom of the privy council, would be duly communicated to
the archdukes.
To wait for an answer to the propositions of the suspicious States-
General until Philip III. had mastered the subject in detail, was a
prospect too dreary even for the equable soul of Brother John. Dismayed
at the position in which he found himself, he did his best to ferret out
the reasons for the preposterous delay; not being willing to be paid off
in allusions to the royal investigations. He was still further appalled
at last by discovering that the delay was absolutely for the delay's
sake. It was considered inconsistent with the dignity of the Government
not to delay. The court and cabinet had quite made up their minds as to
the answer to be made to the last propositions of the rebels, but to make
it known at once was entirely out of the question. In the previous year
his Majesty's administration, so it was now confessed with shame, had
acted with almost indecent haste. That everything had been conceded to
the confederated provinces was the--common talk of Europe. Let the time-
honoured, inveterate custom of Spain in grave affairs to proceed slowly,
and therefore surely, be in future observed. A proper self-respect
required the king to keep the universe in suspense for a still longer
period upon the royal will and the decision of the royal council.
Were the affairs of the mighty Spanish empire so subordinate to the
convenience of that portion of it called the Netherlands that no time was
to be lost before settling their affairs?
Such dismal frivolity, such palsied pride, seems scarcely credible; but
more than all this has been carefully recorded in the letters of the
friar.
If it were precipitation to spend the whole year 1607 in forming a single
phrase; to wit, that the archdukes and the king would treat with the
United Provinces as with countries to which they made no pretensions; and
to spend the best part of another year in futile efforts to recal that
phrase; if all this had been recklessness and haste, then, surely, the
most sluggish canal in Holland was a raging cataract, and the march of a
glacier electric speed.
Midsummer had arrived. The period in which peace was to be made or
abandoned altogether had passed. Jeannin had returned from his visit to
Paris; the Danish envoys, sent to watch the negotiations, had left the
Hague, utterly disgusted with a puppet-show, all the strings of which,
they protested, were pulled from the Louvre. Brother John, exasperated
by the superhuman delays, fell sick of a fever at Burgos, and was sent,
on his recovery, to the court at Valladolid to be made ill again by the
same cause, and still there came no sound from the Government of Spain.
At last the silence was broken. Something that was called the voice of
the king reached the ears of the archduke. Long had he wrestled in
prayer on this great subject, said Philip III., fervently had he besought
the Omnipotent for light. He had now persuaded himself that he should
not fulfil his duty to God, nor satisfy his own strong desire for
maintaining the Catholic faith, nor preserve his self-respect, if he now
conceded his supreme right to the Confederated Provinces at any other
price than the uncontrolled exercise, within their borders, of the
Catholic religion. He wished, therefore, as obedient son of the Church
and Defender of the Faith, to fulfil this primary duty, untrammelled by
any human consideration, by any profit that might induce him towards a
contrary course. That which he had on other occasions more than once
signified he now confirmed. His mind was fixed; this was his last and
immutable determination, that if the confederates should permit the free
and public exercise of the Catholic, Roman, Apostolic religion to all
such as wished to live and die in it, for this cause so grateful to God,
and for no other reason, he also would permit to them that supreme right
over the provinces, and that authority which now belonged to himself.
Natives and residents of those countries should enjoy liberty, just so
long as the exercise of the Catholic religion flourished there, and not
one day nor hour longer.
Philip then proceeded flatly to refuse the India navigation, giving
reasons very satisfactory to himself why the provinces ought cheerfully
to abstain from that traffic. If the confederates, in consequence of the
conditions thus definitely announced, moved by their innate pride and
obstinacy, and relying on the assistance of their allies, should break
off the negotiations, then it would be desirable to adopt the plan
proposed by Jeannin to Richardot, and conclude a truce for five or six
years. The king expressed his own decided preference for a truce rather
than a peace, and his conviction that Jeannin had made the suggestion by
command of his sovereign.
The negotiators stood exactly where they did when Friar John, disguised
as a merchant, first made his bow to the Prince and Barneveld in the
palace at the Hague.
The archduke, on receiving at last this peremptory letter from the king,
had nothing for it but to issue instructions accordingly to the
plenipotentiaries at the Hague. A decisive conference between those
diplomatists and the States' commissioners took place immediately
afterwards.
It was on the 20th August.
Although it had been agreed on the 1st May to break off negotiations on
the ensuing 1st of August, should no result be reached, yet three weeks
beyond that period had been suffered to elapse, under a tacit agreement
to wait a little longer for the return of the friar. President Jeannin,
too, had gone to Paris on the 20th June, to receive new and important
instructions; verbal and written, from his sovereign, and during his
absence it had not been thought expedient to transact much business.
Jeannin returned to the Hague on the 15th of August, and, as definite
instructions from king and archduke had now arrived, there seemed no
possibility of avoiding an explanation.
The Spanish envoys accordingly, with much gravity, and as if they had
been propounding some cheerful novelty, announced to the assembled
commissioners that all reports hitherto flying about as to the Spanish
king's intentions were false.