ordered the assault, and the last wall was suddenly stormed before the
morning broke. The soldiers forced their way through the breach or
sprang over the breastwork, and surprised at last--in its sleep--the city
which had so long and vigorously defended itself. The burghers, startled
from their slumber, bewildered, unprepared, found themselves engaged in
unequal conflict with alert and savage foes. The battle, as usual when
Netherland towns were surprised by Philip's soldiers, soon changed to a
massacre. The townspeople rushed hither and thither, but there was
neither escape, nor means of resisting an enemy who now poured into the
town by thousands upon thousands. An indiscriminate slaughter succeeded:
Women, old men, and children, had all been combatants; and all,
therefore, had incurred the vengeance of the conquerors. A cry of agony
arose which was distinctly heard at the distance of a league. Mothers
took their infants in their arms, and threw themselves by hundreds into
the Meuse--and against women the blood-thirst of the assailants was
especially directed. Females who had fought daily in the trenches, who
had delved in mines and mustered on the battlements, had unsexed
themselves in the opinion of those whose comrades they had helped to
destroy. It was nothing that they had laid aside the weakness of women
in order to defend all that was holy and dear to them on earth. It was
sufficient that many a Spanish, Burgundian, or Italian mercenary had died
by their hands. Women were pursued from house to house, and hurled from
roof and window. They were hunted into the river; they were torn limb
from limb in the streets. Men and children fared no better; but the
heart sickens at the oft-repeated tale. Horrors, alas, were commonplaces
in the Netherlands. Cruelty too monstrous for description, too vast to
be believed by a mind not familiar with the outrages practised by the
soldiers of Spain and Italy upon their heretic fellow-creatures, were now
committed afresh in the streets of Maestricht.
On the first day four thousand men and women were slaughtered. The
massacre lasted two days longer; nor would it be an exaggerated estimate,
if we assume that the amount of victims upon the two last days was equal
to half the number sacrificed on the first. It was said that not four
hundred citizens were left alive after the termination of the siege.
These soon wandered away, their places being supplied by a rabble rout of
Walloon sutlers and vagabonds. Maestricht was depopulated as well as
captured. The booty obtained after the massacre was very large, for the
city had been very thriving, its cloth manufacture extensive and
important. Sebastian Tappin, the heroic defender of the place, had been
shot through the shoulder at the taking of the Parma ravelin, and had
been afterwards severely injured at the capture of the demilune. At the
fall of the city he was mortally wounded, and carried a prisoner to the
hostile camp, only to expire. The governor, Swartsenberg, also lost his
life.
Alexander, on the contrary, was raised from his sick bed with the joyful
tidings of victory, and as soon as he could be moved, made his appearance
in the city. Seated in a splendid chair of state, borne aloft on the
shoulders of his veterans, with a golden canopy above his head to protect
him from the summer's sun, attended by the officers of his staff, who
were decked by his special command in, their gayest trappings, escorted
by his body-guard, followed by his "plumed troops," to the number of
twenty thousand, surrounded by all the vanities of war, the hero made his
stately entrance into the town. His way led through deserted streets of
shattered houses. The pavement ran red with blood. Headless corpses,
mangled limbs--an obscene mass of wretchedness and corruption, were
spread on every side, and tainted the summer air. Through the thriving
city which, in the course of four months Alexander had converted into a
slaughter-house and a solitude, the pompous procession took its course to
the church of Saint Servais. Here humble thanks were offered to the.
God of Love, and to Jesus of Nazareth, for this new victory. Especially
was gratitude expressed to the Apostles Paul and Peter; upon whose
festival, and by whose sword and key the crowning mercy had been
accomplished,--and by whose special agency eight thousand heretics now
lay unburied in the streets. These acts of piety performed, the
triumphal procession returned to the camp, where, soon afterwards, the
joyful news of Alexander Farnese's entire convalescence was proclaimed.
The Prince of Orange, as usual, was blamed for the tragical termination
to this long drama. All that one man could do, he had done to awaken his
countrymen to the importance of the siege. He had repeatedly brought the
subject solemnly before the assembly, and implored for Maestricht, almost
upon his knees. Lukewarm and parsimonious, the states had responded to
his eloquent appeals with wrangling addressee and insufficient votes.
With a special subsidy obtained in April and May, he had organized the
slight attempt at relief, which was all which he had been empowered to
make, but which proved entirely unsuccessful. Now that the massacre to
be averted was accomplished, men were loud in reproof, who had been
silent, and passive while there was yet time to speak and to work. It
was the Prince, they said, who had delivered so many thousands of his
fellow-countrymen to, butchery. To save himself, they insinuated he was
now plotting to deliver the land into the power of the treacherous
Frenchman, and he alone, they asserted, was the insuperable obstacle to
an honorable peace with Spain.
A letter, brought by an unknown messenger, was laid before the states'
assembly, in full session, and sent to the clerk's table, to be read
aloud. After the first few sentences, that functionary faltered in his
recital. Several members also peremptorily ordered him to stop; for the
letter proved to be a violent and calumnious libel upon Orange, together
with a strong appeal in favor of the peace propositions then under debate
at Cologne. The Prince alone, of all the assembly, preserving his
tranquillity, ordered the document to be brought to him, and forthwith
read it aloud himself, from beginning to end. Afterwards, he took
occasion to express his mind concerning the ceaseless calumnies of which
he was the mark. He especially alluded to the oft-repeated accusation
that he was the only obstacle to peace, and repeated that he was ready at
that moment to leave the land, and to close his lips for ever, if by so
doing he could benefit his country, and restore her to honorable repose.
The outcry, with the protestations of attachment and confidence which at
once broke from the assembly, convinced him, however, that he was deeply
rooted in the hearts of all patriotic Netherlanders, and that it was
beyond the power of slanderers to loosen his hold upon their affection.
Meantime, his efforts had again and again been demanded to restore order
in that abode of anarchy, the city of Ghent. After his visit during the
previous winter, and the consequent departure of John Casimir to the
palatinate, the pacific arrangements made by the Prince had for a short
time held good. Early in March, however, that master of misrule, John
van Imbize, had once more excited the populace to sedition. Again the
property of Catholics, clerical and lay, was plundered; again the persons
of Catholics, of every degree, were maltreated. The magistrates, with
first senator Imbize at their head, rather encouraged than rebuked the
disorder; but Orange, as soon as he received official intelligence of
the event, hastened to address them in the words of earnest warning and
wisdom. He allowed that the inhabitants of the province had reason to
be discontented with the presence and the misconduct of the Walloon
soldiery. He granted that violence and the menaces of a foreign tyranny
made it difficult for honest burghers to gain a livelihood. At the same
time he expressed astonishment that reasonable men should seek a remedy
for such evils in tumults which would necessarily bring utter destruction
upon the land. "It was," he observed, "as if a patient should from
impatience, tear the bandages from his wounds, and, like a maniac,
instead of allowing himself to be cured, plunge a dagger into his own
heart."
These exhortations exerted a wholesome effect for a moment, but matters
soon went from bad to worse. Imbize, fearing the influence of the
Prince, indulged in open-mouthed abuse of a man whose character he was
unable even to comprehend, He accused him of intriguing with France for
his own benefit, of being a Papist in disguise, of desiring to establish
what he called a "religious peace," merely to restore Roman idolatry.
In all these insane ravings, the demagogue was most ably seconded by the
ex-monk. Incessant and unlicensed were the invectives hurled by Peter
Dathenus from his pulpit upon William the Silent's head. He denounced
him--as he had often done before--as an atheist in heart; as a man who
changed his religion as easily as his garments; as a man who knew no God
but state expediency, which was the idol of his worship; a mere
politician who would tear his shirt from his back and throw it in the
fire, if he thought it were tainted with religion.
Such witless but vehement denunciation from a preacher who was both
popular and comparatively sincere, could, not but affect the imagination
of the weaker portion of his, healers. The faction of Imbize became
triumphant. Ryhove--the ruffian whose hands were stained with the recent
blood of Visch and Hessels--rather did damage than service to the cause
of order. He opposed himself to the demagogue who was prating daily of
Greece, Rome, and Geneva, while his clerical associate was denouncing
William of Orange, but he opposed himself in vain. An attempt to secure
the person of Imbize failed, but by the influence of Ryhove, however, a
messenger was despatched to Antwerp in the name of a considerable portion
of the community of Ghent. The counsel and the presence of the man to
whom all hearts in every part of the Netherlands instinctively turned in
the hour of need, were once more invoked.
The Prince again addressed them in language which none but he could
employ with such effect. He told them that his life, passed in service
and sacrifice, ought to witness sufficiently for his fidelity.
Nevertheless, he thought it necessary--in view of the calumnies which
were circulated--to repeat once more his sentiment that no treaty of
peace, war, or alliance, ought to be negotiated, save with the consent of
the people. His course in Holland and Zealand had proved, he said, his
willingness always to consult the wishes of his countrymen. As for the
matter of religion it was almost incredible that there should be any who
doubted the zeal which he bore the religion for which he had suffered so
much. "I desire," he continued, fervently, "that men should compare that
which has been done by my accusers during ten years past with that which
I have done. In that which touches the true advancement of religion, I
will yield to no man. They who so boldly accuse me have no liberty of
speech, save that which has been acquired for them by the blood of my
kindred, by my labors, and my excessive expenditures. To me they owe it
that they dare speak at all." This letter, (which was dated on the 24th
of July, 1579) contained an assurance that the writer was about to visit
Ghent.
On the following day, Imbize executed a coup d'etat. Having a body of
near two thousand soldiers at his disposal, he suddenly secured the
persons of all the magistrates and other notable individuals not friendly
to his policy, and then, in violation of all law, set up a new board of
eighteen irresponsible functionaries, according to a list prepared by
himself alone. This was his way of enforcing the democratic liberty
of Greece, Rome, and Geneva, which was so near to his heart. A
proclamation, in fourteen articles, was forthwith issued, justifying this
arbitrary proceeding. It was declared that the object of the somewhat
irregular measure "was to prevent the establishment of the religious
peace, which was merely a method of replanting uprooted papistry and the
extirpated tyranny of Spain." Although the arrangement's had not been
made in strict accordance with formal usage and ceremony, yet they were
defended upon the ground that it had been impossible, by other means, to
maintain their ancient liberties and their religious freedom. At the
same time a pamphlet, already prepared for the occasion by Dathenus,
was extensively circulated. In this production the arbitrary revolution
effected by a demagogue was defended with effrontery, while the
character, of Orange, was loaded with customary abuse. To prevent
the traitor from coming to Ghent, and establishing what he called his
religious peace, these irregular measures, it was urged, had been wisely
taken.
Such were the efforts of John Imbize--such the calumnies of Peter
Dathenus--in order to counteract the patriotic endeavors of the Prince;
but neither the ruffianism of John nor the libels of Peter were destined
upon this occasion to be successful. William the Silent treated the
slanders of the scolding monk with dignified contempt. "Having been
informed," said he to the magistrates of Ghent, "that Master Peter
Dathenns has been denouncing me as a man without religion or fidelity,
and full of ambition, with other propositions hardly becoming his cloth;
I do not think it worth while to answer more at this time than that I
willingly refer myself to the judgment of all who know me."
The Prince came to Ghent, great as had been the efforts of Imbize and his
partisans to prevent his coming. His presence was like magic. The
demagogue and his whole flock vanished like unclean birds at the first
rays of the sun. Imbize dared not look the Father of his country in the
face. Orange rebuked the populace in the strong and indignant language
that public and private virtue, energy, and a high purpose enabled such a
leader of the people to use. He at once set aside the board of eighteen
--the Grecian-Roman-Genevese establishment of Imbize--and remained in the
city until the regular election, in conformity with the privileges, had
taken place. Imbize, who had shrunk at his approach, was meantime
discovered by his own companions. He had stolen forth secretly on the
night before the Prince's arrival, and was found cowering in the cabin of
a vessel, half dead with fear, by an ale-house keeper who had been his
warm partisan. "No Skulking," cried the honest friend; seizing the
tribune of the people by the shoulder;" no sailing away in the night-
time. You have got us all into this bog, and must come back, and abide
the issue with your supporters."
In this collapsed state was the windy demagogue, who had filled half
Flanders with his sound and fury, conveyed before the patriot Prince.
He met with grave and bitter rebukes, but felt sufficiently relieved when
allowed to depart unharmed. Judging of his probable doom by the usual
practice of himself and his fellows in similar cases, he had anticipated
nothing short of the gibbet. That punishment, however, was to be
inflicted at a later period, by other hands, and not until he had added
treason to his country and a shameless recantation of all his violent
professions in favor of civil and religious liberty to the list of his
crimes. On the present occasion he was permitted to go free. In company
with his clerical companion, Peter Dathenus, he fled to the abode of his
excellent friend, John Casimir, who received both with open arms, and
allowed them each a pension.
Order being thus again restored in Ghent by the exertions of the Prince,
when no other human hand could have dispelled the anarchy which seemed to
reign supreme, William the Silent, having accepted the government of
Flanders, which had again and again been urged upon him, now returned to
Antwerp.
CHAPTER III.
The Cologne conferences--Intentions of the parties--Preliminary
attempt by government to purchase the Prince of Orange--Offer and
rejection of various articles among the plenipotentiaries--Departure
of the imperial commissionere--Ultimatum of the States compared with
that of the royal government--Barren negotiations terminated--
Treason of De Bours, Governor of Mechlin--Liberal theories
concerning the nature of government--Abjuration of Philip imminent--
Self-denial of Orange--Attitude of Germany--of England--Marriage
negotiations between Elizabeth and Anjou--Orange favors the election
of the Duke as sovereign--Address and speeches of the Prince--
Parsimony and interprovincial jealousy rebuked----Secret
correspondence of Count Renneberg with the royal government--
His treason at Groningen.
Since the beginning of May, the Cologne negotiations had been dragging
their slow length along. Few persons believed that any good was likely
to result from these stately and ponderous conferences; yet men were so
weary of war, so desirous that a termination might be put to the atrophy
under which the country was languishing, that many an eager glance was
turned towards the place where the august assembly was holding its
protracted session. Certainly, if wisdom were to be found in mitred
heads--if the power to heal angry passions and to settle the conflicting
claims of prerogative and conscience were to be looked for among men of
lofty station, then the Cologne conferences ought to have made the rough
places smooth and the crooked paths straight throughout all Christendom.
There was the Archbishop of Rossano, afterwards Pope Urban VII, as
plenipotentiary from Rome; there was Charles of Aragon, Duke of
Terranova, supported by five councillors, as ambassador from his Catholic
Majesty; there were the Duke of Aerschot, the Abbot of Saint Gertrude,
the Abbot of Marolles, Doctor Bucho Aytta, Caspar Schetz, Lord of
Grobbendonck, that learned Frisian, Aggeus van Albada, with seven other
wise men, as envoys from the states-general: There were their Serene
Highnesses the Elector and Archbishops of Cologne and Treves, with the
Bishop of Wurtzburg. There was also a numerous embassy from his Imperial
Majesty, with Count Otto de Schwartzenburg at its head.
Here then were holiness, serenity, dignity, law, and learning in
abundance. Here was a pope 'in posse', with archbishops, princes, dukes,
jurisconsults, and doctors of divinity 'in esse', sufficient to remodel
a world, if worlds were to be remodelled by such instruments. If
protocols, replications, annotations, apostilles, could heal a bleeding
country, here were the physicians to furnish those drugs in unlimited
profusion. If reams of paper, scrawled over with barbarous
technicalities, could smother and bury a quarrel which had its origin in
the mutual antagonism of human elements, here were the men to scribble
unflinchingly, till the reams were piled to a pyramid. If the same idea
presented in many aspects could acquire additional life, here were the
word-mongers who, could clothe one shivering thought in a hundred
thousand garments, till it attained all the majesty which decoration
could impart. In truth, the envoys came from Spain, Rome, and Vienna,
provided with but two ideas. Was it not a diplomatic masterpiece, that
from this frugal store they could contrive to eke out seven mortal months
of negotiation? Two ideas--the supremacy of his Majesty's prerogative,
the exclusive exercise of the Roman Catholic religion--these were the be-
all and the end-all of their commission. Upon these two strings they
were to harp, at least till the walls of Maestricht had fallen. The
envoys did their duty well; they were sent to enact a solemn comedy, and
in the most stately manner did they walk through their several parts.
Not that the King was belligerent; on, the contrary, he was heartily
weary of the war. Prerogative was weary--Romanism was weary--Conscience
was weary--the Spirit of Freedom was weary but the Prince of Orange was
not weary. Blood and treasure had been pouring forth so profusely during
twelve flaming years, that all but that one tranquil spirit were
beginning to flag.
At the same time, neither party had more disposition to concede than
stomach to fight. Certainly the royal party had no inclination to yield.
The King had granted easy terms to the Walloons, because upon the one
great point of religion there was, no dispute, and upon the others there
was no intention of keeping faith. With regard to the present
negotiation, it was desirable to gain a little time. It was thought
probable that the religious difference, judiciously managed at this
juncture, might be used to effect a permanent severance of the provinces
so lately banded together in a common union. "To, divide them," wrote
Tassis, in a very confidential letter, "no better method can be found
than to amuse them with this peace negotiation. Some are ready for a
pacification from their desire of repose, some from their fear of war,
some from the differences which exist among themselves, and which it is
especially important to keep alive." Above all things, it was desirable
to maintain the religious distraction till Maestricht had been taken.
That siege was the key to the whole situation. If the separate Walloon
accord could be quietly made in a corner, while Parma was battering that
stronghold on the Meuse, and while decorous negotiation was smoothly
holding its course on the Rhine, much disorganization, it was hoped,
would be handsomely accomplished before the end of the year.
"As for a suspension of arms," wrote Alexander to Terranova, on the 21st
of May, "the longer 'tis deferred the better. With regard to Maestricht,
everything depends upon it that we possess, or desire to possess. Truly,
if the Prince of Orange can relieve the city he will do it. If he does
so, neither will this expedition of ours, nor any other expedition, be
brought to a good end. As soon as men are aware that our affairs are
looking badly, they will come again to a true union, and all will join
together, in hope to accomplish their boasts." Therefore, it was natural
that the peace-wrights of Cologne should industriously ply their task.
It is not desirable to disturb much of that learned dust, after its three
centuries' repose. A rapid sketch of the course of the proceedings, with
an indication of the spirit which animated the contending parties, will
be all that is necessary. They came and they separated with precisely
opposite views. "The desires of Terranova and of the estates," says the
royalist, Tassis, "were diametrically contrary, to each other. The King
wished that the exercise of the Roman Catholic religion should be
exclusively established, and the absolute prerogative preserved in its
integrity." On the other hand, the provinces desired their charters and
a religious' peace. In these perpetual lines and curves ran the
asymptotical negotiation from beginning to end--and so it might have run
for two centuries, without hope of coincidence. Neither party was yet
vanquished. The freshly united provinces were no readier now than
before to admit that the Holy Office formed part of their national
institutions. The despotic faction was not prepared to renounce that
establishment. Foiled, but not disheartened, sat the Inquisition, like a
beldame, upon the border, impotently threatening the land whence she had
been for ever excluded; while industrious as the Parcae, distaff in hand,
sat, in Cologne, the inexorable three--Spain, the Empire, and Rome--
grimly, spinning and severing the web of mortal destinies.