arrest the city of Ghent in its course, and to save the province of
Flanders from accepting the proposed arrangement with Parma. The people
of Ghent were reminded that the chief promoter of this new negotiation
was Champagny, a man who owed a deep debt of hatred to their city, for
the long, and as he believed, the unjust confinement which he had endured
within its walls. Moreover, he was the brother of Granvelle, source of
all their woes. To take counsel with Champagny, was to come within reach
of a deadly foe, for "he who confesses himself to a wolf," said the
burgomasters of Antwerp, "will get wolf's absolution." The Flemings were
warned by all their correspondents that it was puerile to hope for faith
in Philip; a monarch whose first principle was, that promises to heretics
were void. They were entreated to pay no heed to the "sweet singing of
the royalists," who just then affected to disapprove of the practice
adopted by the Spanish Inquisition, that they might more surely separate
them from their friends. "Imitate not," said the magistrates of
Brussels, "the foolish sheep who made with the wolves a treaty of
perpetual amity, from which the faithful dogs were to be excluded."
It was affirmed--and the truth was certainly beyond peradventure--that
religious liberty was dead at the moment when the treaty with Parma
should be signed. "To look for political privilege or evangelical
liberty," said the Antwerp authorities, "in any arrangement with the
Spaniards, is to look for light in darkness, for fire in water." "Philip
is himself the slave of the Inquisition," said the states-general, "and
has but one great purpose in life--to cherish the institution everywhere,
and particularly in the Netherlands. Before Margaret of Parma's time,
one hundred thousand Netherlanders had been burned or strangled, and Alva
had spent seven years in butchering and torturing many thousands more."
The magistrates of Brussells used similar expressions. "The King of
Spain," said they to their brethren of Ghent, "is fastened to the
Inquisition. Yea, he is so much in its power, that even if he desired,
he is unable to maintain his promises." The Prince of Orange too,
was indefatigable in public and private efforts to counteract the
machinations of Parma and the Spanish party in Ghent. He saw with horror
the progress which the political decomposition of that most important
commonwealth was making, for he considered the city the keystone to the
union of the provinces, for he felt with a prophetic instinct that its
loss would entail that of all the southern provinces, and make a united
and independent Netherland state impossible. Already in the summer of
1583, he addressed a letter full of wisdom and of warning to the
authorities of Ghent, a letter in which he set fully before them the
iniquity and stupidity of their proceedings, while at the same time he
expressed himself with so much dexterity and caution as to avoid giving
offence, by accusations which he made, as it were, hypothetically, when,
in truth, they were real ones.
These remonstrances were not fruitless, and the authorities and citizens
of Ghent once more paused ere they stepped from the precipice. While
they were thus wavering, the whole negotiation with Parma was abruptly
brought to a close by a new incident, the demagogue Imbize having been
discovered in a secret attempt to obtain possession of the city of
Denremonde, and deliver it to Parma. The old acquaintance, ally, and
enemy of Imbize, the Seigneur de Ryhove, was commandant of the city, and
information was privately conveyed to him of the design, before there had
been time for its accomplishment. Ryhove, being thoroughly on his guard,
arrested his old comrade, who was shortly afterwards brought to trial,
and executed at Ghent. John van Imbize had returned to the city from
which the contemptuous mercy of Orange had permitted him formerly to
depart, only to expiate fresh turbulence and fresh treason by a felon's
death. Meanwhile the citizens: of Ghent; thus warned by word and deed,
passed an earnest resolution to have no more intercourse with Parma, but
to abide faithfully by the union. Their example was followed by the
other Flemish cities, excepting, unfortunately, Bruges, for that
important town, being entirely in the power of Chimay, was now
surrendered by him to the royal government. On the 20th of May, 1584,
Baron Montigny, on the part of Parma, signed an accord with the Prince of
Chimay, by which the city was restored to his Majesty, and by which all
inhabitants not willing to abide by the Roman Catholic religion were
permitted to leave the land. The Prince was received with favor by
Parma, on conclusion of the transaction, and subsequently met with
advancement from the King, while the Princess, who had embraced the
Reformed religion, retired to Holland.
The only other city of importance gained on this occasion by the
government was Ypres, which had been long besieged, and was, soon
afterwards forced to yield. The new Bishop, on taking possession,
resorted to instant measures for cleansing a place which had been so
long in the hands of the infidels, and as the first step in this
purification, the bodies of many heretics who had been buried for years
were taken from their graves, and publicly hanged in their coffins. All
living adherents to the Reformed religion were instantly expelled from
the place.
Ghent and the rest of Flanders were, for the time, saved from the power
of Spain, the inhabitants being confirmed in their resolution of
sustaining their union with the other provinces by the news from France.
Early in the spring the negotiations between Anjou and the states-general
had been earnestly renewed, and Junius, Mouillerie, and. Asseliers, had
been despatched on a special mission to France, for the purpose of
arranging a treaty with the Duke. On the 19th of April, 1584, they
arrived in Delft, on their return, bringing warm letters from the French
court, full of promises to assist the Netherlands; and it was understood
that a constitution, upon the basis of the original arrangement of
Bordeaux, would be accepted by the Duke. These arrangements were,
however, for ever terminated by the death of Anjou, who had been ill
during the whole course of the negotiations. On the 10th of June, 1584,
he expired at Chateau Thierry, in great torture, sweating blood from
every pore, and under circumstances which, as usual, suggested strong
suspicions of poison.
CHAPTER VII.
Various attempts upon the life of Orange--Delft--Mansion of the
Prince described--Francis Guion or Balthazar Girard--His
antecedents--His correspondence and interviews with Parma and with
d'Assonleville--His employment in France--His return to Delft and
interview with Orange--The crime--The confession--The punishment--
The consequences--Concluding remarks.
It has been seen that the Ban against the Prince of Orange had not been
hitherto without fruits, for although unsuccessful, the efforts to take
his life and earn the promised guerdon had been incessant. The attempt
of Jaureguy, at Antwerp, of Salseda and Baza at Bruges, have been
related, and in March, 1583, moreover, one Pietro Dordogno was executed
in Antwerp for endeavoring to assassinate the Prince. Before his death,
he confessed that he had come from Spain solely for the purpose, and that
he had conferred with La Motte, governor of Gravelines, as to the best
means of accomplishing his design. In April, 1584, Hans Hanzoon, a
merchant of Flushing, had been executed for attempting to destroy the
Prince by means of gunpowder, concealed under his house in that city,
and under his seat in the church. He confessed that he had deliberately
formed the intention of performing the deed, and that he had discussed
the details of the enterprise with the Spanish ambassador in Paris. At
about the same time, one Le Goth, a captive French officer, had been
applied to by the Marquis de Richebourg, on the part of Alexander of
Parma, to attempt the murder of the Prince. Le Goth had consented,
saying that nothing could be more easily done; and that he would
undertake to poison him in a dish of eels, of which he knew him to be
particularly fond. The Frenchman was liberated with this understanding;
but being very much the friend of Orange, straightway told him the whole
story, and remained ever afterwards a faithful servant of the states.
It is to be presumed that he excused the treachery to which he owed his
escape from prison on the ground that faith was no more to be kept with
murderers than with heretics. Thus within two years there had been five
distinct attempts to assassinate the Prince, all of them, with the
privity of the Spanish government. A sixth was soon to follow.
In the summer of 1584, William of Orange was residing at Delft, where his
wife, Louisa de Coligny, had given birth, in the preceding winter, to a
son, afterwards the celebrated stadholder, Frederic Henry. The child had
received these names from his two godfathers, the Kings of Denmark and of
Navarre, and his baptism had been celebrated with much rejoicing on the
12th of June, in the place of his birth.
It was a quiet, cheerful, yet somewhat drowsy little city, that ancient
burgh of Delft. The placid canals by which it was intersected in every
direction were all planted with whispering, umbrageous rows of limes and
poplars, and along these watery highways the traffic of the place glided
so noiselessly that the town seemed the abode of silence and
tranquillity. The streets were clean and airy, the houses well built,
the whole aspect of the place thriving.
One of the principal thoroughfares was called the old Delftstreet. It
was shaded on both sides by lime trees, which in that midsummer season
covered the surface of the canal which flowed between them with their
light and fragrant blossoms. On one side of this street was the "old
kirk," a plain, antique structure of brick, with lancet windows, and with
a tall, slender tower, which inclined, at a very considerable angle,
towards a house upon the other side of the canal. That house was the
mansion of William the Silent. It stood directly opposite the church,
being separated by a spacious courtyard from the street, while the
stables and other offices in the rear extended to the city wall. A
narrow lane, opening out of Delft-street, ran along the side of the house
and court, in the direction of the ramparts. The house was a plain, two-
storied edifice of brick, with red-tiled roof, and had formerly been a
cloister dedicated to Saint Agatha, the last prior of which had been
hanged by the furious Lumey de la Merck.
The news of Anjou's death had been brought to Delft by a special
messenger from the French court. On Sunday morning, the 8th of July,
1584, the Prince of Orange, having read the despatches before leaving his
bed, caused the man who had brought them to be summoned, that he might
give some particular details by word of mouth concerning the last illness
of the Duke. The courier was accordingly admitted to the Prince's bed-
chamber, and proved to be one Francis Guion, as he called himself. This
man had, early in the spring, claimed and received the protection of
Orange, on the ground of being the son of a Protestant at Besancon, who
had suffered death for--his religion, and of his own ardent attachment to
the Reformed faith. A pious, psalm-singing, thoroughly Calvinistic youth
he seemed to be having a bible or a hymn-book under his arm whenever he
walked the street, and most exemplary in his attendance at sermon and
lecture. For, the rest, a singularly unobtrusive personage, twenty-seven
years of age, low of stature, meagre, mean-visaged, muddy complexioned,
and altogether a man of no account--quite insignificant in the eyes of
all who looked upon him. If there were one opinion in which the few who
had taken the trouble to think of the puny, somewhat shambling stranger
from Burgundy at all coincided, it was that he was inoffensive but quite
incapable of any important business. He seemed well educated, claimed to
be of respectable parentage and had considerable facility of speech, when
any person could be found who thought it worth while to listen to him;
but on the whole he attracted little attention.
Nevertheless, this insignificant frame locked up a desperate and daring
character; this mild and inoffensive nature had gone pregnant seven years
with a terrible crime, whose birth could not much longer be retarded.
Francis Guion, the Calvinist, son of a martyred Calvinist, was in reality
Balthazar Gerard, a fanatical Catholic, whose father and mother were
still living at Villefans in Burgundy. Before reaching man's estate, he
had formed the design of murdering the Prince of Orange, "who, so long as
he lived, seemed like to remain a rebel against the Catholic King, and to
make every effort to disturb the repose of the Roman Catholic Apostolic
religion."
When but twenty years of age, he had struck his dagger with all his might
into a door, exclaiming, as he did so, "Would that the blow had been in
the heart of Orange!" For this he was rebuked by a bystander, who told
him it was not for him to kill princes, and that it was not desirable to
destroy so good a captain as the Prince, who, after all, might one day
reconcile himself with the King.
As soon as the Ban against Orange was published, Balthazar, more anxious
than ever to execute his long-cherished design, left Dole and came to
Luxemburg. Here he learned that the deed had already been done by John
Jaureguy. He received this intelligence at first with a sensation of
relief, was glad to be excused from putting himself in danger, and
believing the Prince dead, took service as clerk with one John Duprel,
secretary to Count Mansfeld, governor of Luxemburg. Ere long, the ill
success of Jaureguy's attempt becoming known, the "inveterate
determination" of Gerard aroused itself more fiercely than ever. He
accordingly took models of Mansfeld's official seals in wax, in order
that he might make use of them as an acceptable offering to the Orange
party, whose confidence he meant to gain.
Various circumstances detained him, however. A sum of money was stolen,
and he was forced to stay till it was found, for fear of being arrested
as the thief. Then his cousin and employer fell sick, and Gerard was
obliged to wait for his recovery. At last, in March, 1584, "the weather,
as he said, appearing to be fine," Balthazar left Luxemburg and came to
Treves. While there, he confided his scheme to the regent of the Jesuit
college--a "red-haired man" whose name has not been preserved. That
dignitary expressed high approbation of the plan, gave Gerard his
blessing, and promised him that, if his life should be sacrificed in
achieving his purpose, he should be enrolled among the martyrs. Another
Jesuit, however, in the same college, with whom he likewise communicated,
held very different language, making great efforts to turn the young man
from his design, on the ground of the inconveniences which might arise
from the forging of Mansfeld's seals--adding, that neither he nor any of
the Jesuits liked to meddle with such affairs, but advising that the
whole matter should be laid before the Prince of Parma. It does not
appear that this personage, "an excellent man and a learned," attempted
to dissuade the young man from his project by arguments, drawn from any
supposed criminality in the assassination itself, or from any danger,
temporal or eternal, to which the perpetrator might expose himself.
Not influenced, as it appears, except on one point, by the advice of this
second ghostly confessor, Balthazar came to Tournay, and held council
with a third--the celebrated Franciscan, Father Gery--by whom he was much
comforted and strengthened in his determination. His next step was to
lay the project before Parma, as the "excellent and learned" Jesuit at
Treves had advised. This he did by a letter, drawn up with much care,
and which he evidently thought well of as a composition. One copy of
this letter he deposited with the guardian of the Franciscan convent at
Tournay; the other he presented with his own hand to the Prince of Parma.
"The vassal," said he, "ought always to prefer justice and the will of
the king to his own life." That being the case, he expressed his
astonishment that no man had yet been found to execute the sentence
against William of Nassau, "except the gentle Biscayan, since defunct."
To accomplish the task, Balthazar observed, very judiciously, that it was
necessary to have access, to the person of the Prince--wherein consisted
the difficulty. Those who had that advantage, he continued, were
therefore bound to extirpate the pest at once, without obliging his
Majesty to send to Rome for a chevalier, because not one of them was
willing to precipitate himself into the venomous gulf, which by its
contagion infected and killed the souls and bodies, of all poor abused
subjects, exposed to its influence. Gerard avowed himself to have been
so long goaded and stimulated by these considerations--so extremely
nettled with displeasure and bitterness at seeing the obstinate wretch
still escaping his just judgment--as to have formed the design of baiting
a trap for the fox, hoping thus to gain access to him, and to take him
unawares. He added--without explaining the nature of the trap and the
bait--that he deemed it his duty to lay the subject before the most
serene Prince of Parma, protesting at the same time that he did not
contemplate the exploit for the sake of the reward mentioned in the
sentence, and that he preferred trusting in that regard to the immense
liberality of his Majesty.
Parma had long been looking for a good man to murder Orange, feeling--as
Philip, Granvelle, and all former governors of the Netherlands had felt--
that this was the only means of saving the royal authority in any part of
the provinces. Many unsatisfactory assassins had presented themselves
from time to time, and Alexander had paid money in hand to various
individuals--Italians, Spaniards, Lorrainers; Scotchmen, Englishmen, who
had generally spent the sums received without attempting the job. Others
were supposed to be still engaged in the enterprise; and at that moment
there were four persons--each unknown to the others, and of different
nations--in the city of Delft, seeking to compass the death of William
the Silent. Shag-eared, military, hirsute ruffians--ex-captains of free
companies and such marauders--were daily offering their services; there
was no lack of them, and they had done but little. How should Parma,
seeing this obscures undersized, thin-bearded, runaway clerk before him,
expect pith and energy from him? He thought him quite unfit for an
enterprise of moment, and declared as much to his secret councillors and
to the King.
He soon dismissed him, after receiving his letters; and it may be
supposed that the bombastic style of that epistle would not efface
the unfavorable impression produced by Balthazar's exterior. The
representations of Haultepenne and others induced him so far to modify
his views as to send his confidential councillor, d'Assonleville, to the
stranger, in order to learn the details of the scheme. Assonleville had
accordingly an interview with Gerard, in which he requested the young man
to draw up a statement of his plan in writing, ani this was done upon the
11th of April, 1584.
In this letter Gerard explained his plan of introducing himself to the
notice of Orange, at Delft, as the son of an executed Calvinist; as
himself warmly, though secretly, devoted to the Reformed faith, and as
desirous, therefore, of placing himself in the Prince's service, in order
to avoid the insolence of the Papists. Having gained the confidence of
those about the Prince, he would suggest to them the great use which
might be made of Mansfeld's signet in forging passports for spies and
other persons whom it might be desirous to send into the territory of the
royalists. "With these or similar feints and frivolities," continued
Gerard, "he should soon obtain access to the person of the said Nassau,"
repeating his protestation that nothing had moved him to his enterprise
"save the good zeal which he bore to the faith and true religion guarded
by the Holy Mother Church Catholic, Apostolic, and Roman, and to the
service of his Majesty." He begged pardon for having purloined the
impressions of the seals--a turpitude which he would never have
committed, but would sooner have suffered a thousand deaths, except for
the great end in view. He particularly wished forgiveness for that crime
before going to his task, "in order that he might confess, and receive
the holy communion at the coming Easter, without scruples of conscience."
He likewise begged the Prince of Parma to obtain for him absolution from
his Holiness for this crime of pilfering--the more so "as he was about to
keep company for some time with heretics and atheists, and in some sort
to conform himself to their customs."
From the general tone of the letters of Gerard, he might be set down at
once as a simple, religious fanatic, who felt sure that, in executing the
command of Philip publicly issued to all the murderers of Europe, he was
meriting well of God and his King. There is no doubt that he was an
exalted enthusiast, but not purely an enthusiast. The man's character
offers more than one point of interest, as a psychological phenomenon.
He had convinced himself that the work which he had in hand was eminently
meritorious, and he was utterly without fear of consequences. He was,
however, by no means so disinterested as he chose to represent himself in
letters which, as he instinctively felt, were to be of perennial
interest. On the contrary, in his interviews with Assonleville, he urged
that he was a poor fellow, and that he had undertaken this enterprise in
order to acquire property--to make himself rich--and that he depended
upon the Prince of Parma's influence in obtaining the reward promised by
the Ban to the individual who should put Orange to death.
This second letter decided Parma so far that he authorized Assonleville
to encourage the young man in his attempt, and to promise that the reward
should be given to him in case of success, and to his heirs in the event
of his death. Assonleville, in the second interview, accordingly made
known these assurances in the strongest manner to Gerard, warning him, at
the same time, on no account; if arrested, to inculpate the Prince of
Parma. The councillor, while thus exhorting the stranger, according to
Alexander's commands, confined himself, however, to generalities,
refusing even to advance fifty crowns, which Balthazar had begged from
the Governor-General in order to provide for the necessary expenses of
his project. Parma had made similar advances too often to men who had
promised to assassinate the Prince and had then done little, and he was
resolute in his refusal to this new adventurer, of whom he expected
absolutely nothing. Gerard, notwithstanding this rebuff, was not
disheartened. "I will provide myself out of my own purse," said he to
Assonleville, "and within six weeks you will hear of me."--"Go forth, my
son," said Assonleville, paternally, upon this spirited reply, "and if
you succeed in your enterprise, the King will fulfil all his promises,
and you will gain an immortal name beside."
The "inveterate deliberation," thus thoroughly matured, Gerard now
proceeded to carry into effect. He came to Delft; obtained a hearing of
Millers, the clergyman and intimate friend of Orange, showed him the
Mansfeld seals, and was, somewhat against his will, sent to France, to
exhibit them to Marechal Biron, who, it was thought, was soon to be
appointed governor of Cambray. Through Orange's recommendation, the
Burgundian was received into the suite of Noel de Caron, Seigneur de
Schoneval, then setting forth on a special mission to the Duke of Anjou.
While in France, Gerard could rest neither by day nor night, so tormented
was he by the desire of accomplishing his project, and at length he
obtained permission, upon the death of the Duke, to carry this important
intelligence to the Prince of Orange. The despatches having been
entrusted to him, he travelled posthaste to Delft, and, to his
astonishment, the letters had hardly been delivered before he was
summoned in person to the chamber of the Prince. Here was an opportunity
such as he had never dared to hope for. The arch-enemy to the Church and
to the human race, whose death, would confer upon his destroyer wealth
and nobility in this world, besides a crown of glory in the next, lay
unarmed, alone, in bed, before the man who had thirsted seven long years
for his blood.
Balthazar could scarcely control his emotions sufficiently to answer
the questions which the Prince addressed to him concerning the death of
Anjou, but Orange, deeply engaged with the despatches, and with the
reflections which their deeply-important contents suggested, did not
observe the countenance of the humble Calvinist exile, who had been
recently recommended to his patronage by Millers. Gerard, had, moreover,
made no preparation for an interview so entirely unexpected, had come
unarmed, and had formed no plan for escape. He was obliged to forego
his prey when most within his reach, and after communicating all the
information which the Prince required, he was dismissed from the chamber.