comfort from this wily epistle. The menace was sufficiently plain, the
promise disagreeably vague. Moreover, a letter from the same Catherine
de Medici, had been recently found in a casket at the Duke's lodgings in
Antwerp. In that communication, she had distinctly advised her son to
re-establish the Roman Catholic religion, assuring him that by so doing,
he would be enabled to marry the Infanta of Spain. Nevertheless, the
Prince, convinced that it was his duty to bridge over the deep and fatal
chasm which had opened between the French Prince and the provinces,
if an honorable reconciliation were possible, did not attach an undue
importance either to the stimulating or to the upbraiding portion of the
communication from Catherine. He was most anxious to avert the chaos
which he saw returning. He knew that while the tempers of Rudolph,
of the English Queen, and of the Protestant princes of Germany, and the
internal condition of the Netherlands remained the same, it were madness
to provoke the government of France, and thus gain an additional enemy,
while losing their only friend. He did not renounce the hope of forming
all the Netherlands--excepting of course the Walloon provinces already
reconciled to Philip--into one independent commonwealth, freed for ever
from Spanish tyranny. A dynasty from a foreign house he was willing to
accept, but only on condition that the new royal line should become
naturalized in the Netherlands, should, conform itself to the strict
constitutional compact established, and should employ only natives in the
administration of Netherland affairs. Notwithstanding, therefore, the
recent treachery of Anjou, he was willing to treat with him upon the
ancient basis. The dilemma was a very desperate one, for whatever might
be his course, it was impossible that it should escape censure. Even at
this day, it is difficult to decide what might have been the result of
openly braving the French government, and expelling Anjou. The Prince of
Parma--subtle, vigilant, prompt with word and blow--was waiting most
anxiously to take advantage of every false step of his adversary. The
provinces had been already summoned in most eloquent language, to take
warning by the recent fate of Antwerp, and to learn by the manifestation
just made by Anjou, of his real intentions; that their only salvation lay
in a return to the King's arms. Anjou himself, as devoid of shame as of
honor, was secretly holding interviews with Parma's agents, Acosta and
Flaminio Carnero, at the very moment when he was alternately expressing
to the states his resentment that they dared to doubt his truth, or
magnanimously extending to them his pardon for their suspicions. He was
writing letters full of injured innocence to Orange and to the states,
while secretly cavilling over the terms of the treaty by which he was to
sell himself to Spain. Scruples as to enacting so base a part did not
trouble the "Son of France." He did not hesitate at playing this doubly
and trebly false game with the provinces, but he was anxious to drive the
best possible bargain for himself with Parma. He, offered to restore
Dunkirk, Dixmuyde, and the other cities which be had so recently filched
from the states, and to enter into a strict alliance with Philip; but he
claimed that certain Netherland cities on the French frontier, should be
made over to him in exchange. He required; likewise; ample protection
for his retreat from a country which was likely to be sufficiently
exasperated. Parma and his agents smiled, of course, at such exorbitant
terms. Nevertheless, it was necessary to deal cautiously with a man
who, although but a poor baffled rogue to-day, might to-morrow be seated
on the throne of France. While they were all secretly haggling over the
terms of the bargain, the Prince of Orange discovered the intrigue. It
convinced him of the necessity of closing with a man whose baseness was
so profound, but whose position made his enmity, on the whole, more
dangerous than his friendship. Anjou, backed by so astute and
unscrupulous a politician as Parma, was not to be trifled with. The
feeling of doubt and anxiety was spreading daily through the country:
many men, hitherto firm, were already wavering, while at the same time
the Prince had no confidence in the power of any of the states, save
those of Holland and Utrecht; to maintain a resolute attitude of
defiance, if not assisted from without.
He therefore endeavored to repair the breach, if possible, and thus save
the Union. Mirambeau, in his conferences with the estates, suggested, on
his part, all that words could effect. He expressed the hope that the
estates would use their discretion "in compounding some sweet and
friendly medicine" for the present disorder; and that they would not
judge the Duke too harshly for a fault which he assured them did not come
from his natural disposition. He warned them that the enemy would be
quick to take advantage of the present occasion to bring about, if
possible, their destruction, and he added that he was commissioned to
wait upon the Duke of Anjou, in order to assure him that, however
alienated he might then be from the Netherlands, his Majesty was
determined to effect an entire reconciliation.
The envoy conferred also with the Prince of Orange, and urged him most
earnestly to use his efforts to heal the rupture. The Prince, inspired
by the sentiments already indicated, spoke with perfect sincerity. His
Highness, he said, had never known a more faithful and zealous friend
than himself, He had begun to lose his own credit with the people by
reason of the earnestness with which he had ever advocated the Duke's
cause, and he could not flatter himself that his recommendation would now
be of any advantage to his Highness. It would be more injurious than his
silence. Nevertheless, he was willing to make use of all the influence
which was left to him for the purpose of bringing about a reconciliation,
provided that the Duke were acting in good faith. If his Highness were
now sincerely desirous of conforming to the original treaty, and willing
to atone for the faults committed by him on the same day in so many
cities--offences which could not be excused upon the ground of any
affronts which he might have received from the citizens of Antwerp--
it might even now be possible to find a remedy for the past. He very
bluntly told the envoy, however, that the frivolous excuses offered by
the Duke caused more bitterness than if he had openly acknowledged his
fault. It were better, he said, to express contrition, than to excuse
himself by laying blame on those to whom no blame belonged, but who, on
the contrary, had ever shown themselves faithful servants of his
Highness.
The estates of the Union, being in great perplexity as to their proper
course, now applied formally, as they always did in times of danger and
doubt, to the Prince, for a public expression of his views. Somewhat
reluctantly, he complied with their wishes in one of the most admirable
of his state papers.
He told the states-that he felt some hesitation in expressing his views.
The blame of the general ill success was always laid upon his shoulders;
as if the chances of war could be controlled even by a great potentate
with ample means at his disposal. As for himself, with so little actual
power that he could never have a single city provided with what he
thought a sufficient garrison, it could not be expected that he could
command fortune. His advice, he said, was always asked, but ever judged
good or evil according to the result, as if the issue were in any hands
but God's. It did not seem advisable for a man of his condition and
years, who had so often felt the barb of calumny's tongue, to place his
honor, again in the judgment scale of mankind, particularly as he was
likely to incur fresh censure for another man's crime. Nevertheless,
he was willing, for the love he bore the land, once more to encounter
this danger.
He then rapidly reviewed the circumstances which had led to the election
of Anjou, and reminded the estates that they had employed sufficient time
to deliberate concerning that transaction. He recalled to their
remembrance his frequent assurances of support and sympathy if they would
provide any other means of self-protection than the treaty with the
French Prince. He thought it, therefore, unjust, now that calamity had
sprung from the measure, to ascribe the blame entirely to him, even had
the injury been greater than the one actually sustained. He was far from
palliating the crime, or from denying that the Duke's rights under the
Treaty of Bordeaux had been utterly forfeited. He was now asked what was
to be done. Of three courses, be said, one must be taken: they must make
their peace with the King, or consent to a reconciliation with Anjou, or
use all the strength which God had given them to resist, single-handed,
the enemy. With regard to the first point, he resumed the argument as to
the hopelessness of a satisfactory arrangement with the monarch of Spain.
The recent reconciliation of the Walloon provinces and its shameful
infraction by Parma in the immediate recal of large masses of Spanish and
Italian troops, showed too plainly the value of all solemn stipulations
with his Catholic Majesty. Moreover, the time was unpropitious. It was
idle to look, after what had recently occurred, for even fair promises.
It was madness then to incur the enmity of two such powers at once. The
French could do the Netherlands more harm as enemies than the Spaniards.
The Spaniards would be more dangerous as friends, for in cases of a
treaty with Philip the Inquisition would be established in the place of a
religious peace. For these reasons the Prince declared himself entirely
opposed to any negotiations with the Crown of Spain.
As to the second point, he admitted that Anjou had gained little honor
by his recent course; and that it would be a mistake on their part to
stumble a second time over the same stone. He foresaw, nevertheless,
that the Duke--irritated as he was by the loss of so many of his nobles,
and by the downfall of all his hopes in the Netherlands--would be likely
to inflict great injuries upon their cause. Two powerful nations like
France and Spain would be too much to have on their hands at once. How
much danger, too, would be incurred by braving at once the open wrath of
the French King, and, the secret displeasure of the English Queen. She
had warmly recommended the Duke of Anjou. She had said--that honors to
him were rendered to herself; and she was now entirely opposed to their
keeping the present quarrel alive. If France became their enemy, the
road was at once opened through that kingdom for Spain. The estates were
to ponder well whether they possessed the means to carry on such a double
war without assistance. They were likewise to remember how many cities
still remained in the hands of Anjou, and their possible fate if the Duke
were pushed to extremity.
The third point was then handled with vigor. He reminded the states of
the perpetual difficulty of raising armies, of collecting money to pay
for troops, of inducing cities to accept proper garrisons, of
establishing a council which could make itself respected. He alluded
briefly and bitterly to the perpetual quarrels of the states among
themselves; to their mutual jealousy; to their obstinate parsimony; to
their jealousy of the general government; to their apathy and inertness
before impending ruin. He would not calumniate those, he said, who
counselled trust in God. That was his sentiment also: To attempt great
affairs, however, and, through avarice, to-withhold sufficient means, was
not trusting, but tempting God.--On the contrary, it was trusting God to
use the means which He offered to their hands.
With regard, then, to the three points, he rejected the first.
Reconciliation with the King of Spain was impossible. For his own part,
he would much prefer the third course. He had always been in favor of
their maintaining independence by their own means and the assistance of
the Almighty. He was obliged, however, in sadness; to confess that the
narrow feeling of individual state rights, the general tendency to
disunion, and the constant wrangling, had made this course a hopeless
one. There remained, therefore, only the second, and they must effect an
honorable reconciliation with Anjou. Whatever might be their decision,
however, it was meet that it should be a speedy one. Not an hour was to
be lost. Many fair churches of God, in Anjou's power, were trembling on
the issue, and religious and political liberty was more at stake than
ever. In conclusion, the Prince again expressed his determination,
whatever might be their decision, to devote the rest of his days to the
services of his country.
The result of these representations by the Prince--of frequent letters
from Queen Elizabeth, urging a reconciliation--and of the professions
made by the Duke and the French envoys, was a provisional arrangement,
signed on the 26th and 28th of March. According to the terms of this
accord, the Duke was to receive thirty thousand florins for his troops,
and to surrender the cities still in his power. The French prisoners
were to be liberated, the Duke's property at Antwerp was to be restored,
and the Duke himself was to await at Dunkirk the arrival of
plenipotentiaries to treat with him as to a new and perpetual
arrangement.
The negotiations, however, were languid. The quarrel was healed on the
surface, but confidence so recently and violently uprooted was slow to
revive. On the 28th of June, the Duke of Anjou left Dunkirk for Paris,
never to return to the Netherlands, but he exchanged on his departure
affectionate letters with the Prince and the estates. M. des Pruneaux
remained as his representative, and it was understood that the
arrangements for re-installing him as soon as possible in the sovereignty
which he had so basely forfeited, were to be pushed forward with
earnestness.
In the spring of the same year, Gerard Truchses, Archbishop of Cologne,
who had lost his see for the love of Agnes Mansfeld, whom he had espoused
in defiance of the Pope; took refuge with the Prince of Orange at Delft.
A civil war in Germany broke forth, the Protestant princes undertaking to
support the Archbishop, in opposition to Ernest of Bavaria, who had been
appointed in his place. The Palatine, John Casimir, thought it necessary
to mount and ride as usual. Making his appearance at the head of a
hastily collected force, and prepared for another plunge into chaos, he
suddenly heard, however, of his elder brother's death at Heidelberg.
Leaving his men, as was his habit, to shift for themselves, and Baron
Truchses, the Archbishop's brother, to fall into the hands of the enemy,
he disappeared from the scene with great rapidity, in order that his own
interests in the palatinate and in the guardianship of the young
palatines might not suffer by his absence.
At this time, too, on the 12th of April, the Prince of Orange was
married, for the fourth time, to Louisa, widow of the Seigneur de
Teligny, and daughter of the illustrious Coligny.
In the course of the summer, the states of Holland and Zealand, always
bitterly opposed to the connection with Anjou, and more than ever
dissatisfied with the resumption of negotiations since the Antwerp
catastrophe, sent a committee to the Prince in order to persuade him to
set his face against the whole proceedings. They delivered at the same
time a formal remonstrance, in writing (25th of August, 1583), in which
they explained how odious the arrangement with the Duke had ever been to
them. They expressed the opinion that even the wisest might be sometimes
mistaken, and that the Prince had been bitterly deceived by Anjou and by
the French court. They besought him to rely upon the assistance of the
Almighty, and upon the exertions of the nation, and they again hinted at
the propriety of his accepting that supreme sovereignty over all the
united provinces which would be so gladly conferred, while, for their own
parts, they voluntarily offered largely to increase the sums annually
contributed to the common defence.
Very soon afterwards, in August, 1583, the states of the united provinces
assembled at Middelburg formally offered the general government--which
under the circumstances was the general sovereignty--to the Prince,
warmly urging his acceptance of the dignity. He manifested, however, the
same reluctance which he had always expressed, demanding that the project
should beforehand be laid before the councils of all the large cities,
and before the estates of certain provinces which had not been
represented at the Middelburg diet. He also made use of the occasion to
urge the necessity of providing more generously for the army expenses and
other general disbursements. As to ambitious views, he was a stranger to
them, and his language at this moment was as patriotic and self-denying
as at any previous period. He expressed his thanks to the estates for
this renewed proof of their confidence in his character, and this
additional approbation of his course,--a sentiment which he was always
ready "as a good patriot to justify by his most faithful service." He
reminded them, however, that he was no great monarch, having in his own
hands the means to help and the power to liberate them; and that even
were he in possession of all which God had once given him, he should be
far from strong enough to resist, single-handed, their powerful enemy.
All that was left to him, he said, was an "honest and moderate experience
in affairs." With this he was ever ready to serve them to the utmost;
but they knew very well that the means to make that experience available
were to be drawn from the country itself. With modest simplicity, he
observed that he had been at work fifteen or sixteen years, doing his
best, with the grace of God, to secure the freedom of the fatherland and
to resist tyranny of conscience; that he alone--assisted by his brothers
and some friends and relatives--had borne the whole burthen in the
beginning, and that he had afterwards been helped by the states of
Holland and Zealand, so that he could not but render thanks to God for
His great mercy in thus granting His blessing to so humble an instrument,
and thus restoring so many beautiful provinces to their ancient freedom
and to the true religion. The Prince protested that this result was
already a sufficient reward for his labors--a great consolation in his
sufferings. He had hoped, he said, that the estates, "taking into
consideration his long-continued labors, would have been willing to
excuse him from a new load of cares, and would have granted him some
little rest in his already advanced age;" that they would have selected
"some other person more fitted for the labor, whom he would himself
faithfully promise to assist to the best of his abilities, rendering him
willing obedience proportionate to the authority conferred upon him."
Like all other attempts to induce the acceptance, by the Prince, of
supreme authority, this effort proved ineffectual, from the obstinate
unwillingness of his hand to receive the proffered sceptre.
In connection with this movement, and at about the same epoch, Jacob
Swerius, member of the Brabant Council, with other deputies, waited upon
Orange, and formally tendered him the sovereign dukedom of Brabant,
forfeited and vacant by the late crime of Anjou. The Prince, however,
resolutely refused to accept the dignity, assuring the committee that he
had not the means to afford the country as much protection as they had a
right to expect from their sovereign. He added that "he would never give
the King of Spain the right-to say that the Prince of Orange had been
actuated by no other motives in his career than the hope of self-
aggrandizement, and the desire to deprive his Majesty of the provinces
in order to appropriate them to himself."
Accordingly, firmly refusing to heed the overtures of the United
States, and of Holland in particular, he continued to further the re-
establishment of Anjou--a measure in which, as he deliberately believed,
lay the only chance of union and in dependence.
The Prince of Parma, meantime, had not been idle. He had been unable to
induce the provinces to listen to his wiles, and to rush to the embrace
of the monarch whose arms he described as ever open to the repentant.
He had, however, been busily occupied in the course of the summer in
taking up many of the towns which the treason of Anjou had laid open to
his attacks.
Eindhoven, Diest, Dunkirk, Newport, and other places, were successively
surrendered to royalist generals. On the 22nd of September, 1583, the
city of Zutfen, too, was surprised by Colonel Tassis, on the fall of
which most important place, the treason of Orange's brother-in-law, Count
Van den Berg, governor of Gueldres, was revealed. His fidelity had been
long suspected, particularly by Count John of Nassau, but always
earnestly vouched for by his wife and by his sons. On the capture of
Zutfen, however, a document was found and made public, by which Van den
Berg bound himself to deliver the principal cities of Gueldres and
Zutfen, beginning with Zutfen itself, into the hands of Parma, on
condition of receiving the pardon and friendship of the King.
Not much better could have been expected of Van den Berg. His
pusillanimous retreat from his post in Alva's time will be recollected;
and it is certain that the Prince had never placed implicit confidence
in his character. Nevertheless, it was the fate of this great man to
be often deceived by the friends whom he trusted, although never to be
outwitted by his enemies. Van den Berg was arrested, on the 15th of
November, carried to the Hague, examined and imprisoned for a time in
Delftshaven. After a time he was, however, liberated, when he instantly,
with all his sons, took service under the King.
While treason was thus favoring the royal arms in the north, the same
powerful element, to which so much of the Netherland misfortunes had
always been owing was busy in Flanders.
Towards the end of the year 1583, the Prince of Chimay, eldest son of the
Duke of Aerschot, had been elected governor of that province. This noble
was as unstable in character, as vain, as unscrupulous, and as ambitious
as his father and uncle. He had been originally desirous of espousing
the eldest daughter of the Prince of Orange, afterwards the Countess of
Hohenlo, but the Duchess of Aerschot was too strict a Catholic to
consent to the marriage, and her son was afterwards united to the
Countess of Meghem, widow of Lan celot Berlaymont.
As affairs seemed going on prosperously for the states in the beginning,
of this year, the Prince of Chimay had affected a strong inclination for
the Reformed religion, and as governor of Bruges, he had appointed many
members of that Church to important offices, to the exclusion of
Catholics. By so decided a course, he acquired the confidence of the
patriot party and at the end of the year he became governor of Flanders.
No sooner was he installed in this post, than he opened a private
correspondence with Parma, for it was his intention to make his peace
with the King, and to purchase pardon and advancement by the brilliant
service which he now undertook, of restoring this important province to
the royal authority. In the arrangement of his plans he was assisted by
Champagny, who, as will be recollected, had long been a prisoner in
Ghent, but whose confinement was not so strict as to prevent frequent
intercourse with his friends without. Champagny was indeed believed to
be the life of the whole intrigue. The plot was, however, forwarded by
Imbize, the roaring demagogue whose republicanism could never reconcile
itself with what he esteemed the aristocratic policy of Orange, and whose
stern puritanism could be satisfied with nothing short of a general
extermination of Catholics. This man, after having been allowed to
depart, infamous and contemptible, from the city which he had endangered,
now ventured after five years, to return, and to engage in fresh schemes
which were even more criminal than his previous enterprises. The
uncompromising foe to Romanism, the advocate of Grecian and Genevan
democracy, now allied himself with Champagny and with Chimay, to effect a
surrender of Flanders to Philip and to the Inquisition. He succeeded in
getting himself elected chief senator in Ghent, and forthwith began to
use all his influence to further the secret plot. The joint efforts and
intrigues of Parma, Champagny, Chimay, and Imbize, were near being
successful. Early, in the spring of 1584 a formal resolution was passed
by the government of Ghent, to open negotiations with Parma. Hostages
were accordingly exchanged, and a truce of three weeks was agreed upon,
during which an animated correspondence was maintained between the
authorities of Ghent and the Prince of Chimay on the one side, and the
United States-general, the magistracy of Antwerp, the states of Brabant,
and other important bodies on the other.