Cassandra-like warnings into ears wilfully deaf. The States had gone as
far as possible in concession. To go farther would be to wreck the great
cause upon the very quicksands which he had so ceaselessly pointed out.
"We hope that nothing further will be asked of us, no scruples be felt as
to our good intentions," he said, "and that if Spain and the Archdukes
are not ready now to fulfil the treaty, their Majesties will know how to
resent this trifling with their authority and dignity, and how to set
matters to rights with their own hands in the duchies. A new treaty,
still less a sequestration, is not to be thought of for a moment."
Yet the month of August came and still the names of the mediating kings
were not on the treaty, and still the spectre of sequestration had not
been laid. On the contrary, the peace of Asti, huddled up between
Spain and Savoy, to be soon broken again, had caused new and painful
apprehensions of an attempt at sequestration, for it was established by
several articles in that treaty that all questions between Savoy and
Mantua should be referred to the Emperor's decision. This precedent was
sure to be followed in the duchies if not resisted by force, as it had
been so successfully resisted five years before by the armies of the
States associated with those of France. Moreover the first step at
sequestration had been actually taken. The Emperor had peremptorily
summoned the Elector of Brandenburg and all other parties interested to
appear before him on the 1st of August in Prague. There could be but one
object in this citation, to drive Brandenburg and the States out of the
duchies until the Imperial decision as to the legitimate sovereignty
should be given. Neuburg being already disposed of and his claims ceded
to the Emperor, what possibility was there in such circumstances of
saving one scrap of the territory from the clutch of the League? None
certainly if the Republic faltered in its determination, and yielded to
the cowardly advice of James. "To comply with the summons," said
Barneveld, "and submit to its consequences will be an irreparable injury
to the electoral house of Brandenburg, to the duchies, and to our co-
religionists everywhere, and a very great disgrace to both their
Majesties and to us."
He continued, through the ambassador in London, to hold up to the King,
in respectful but plain language, the shamelessness of his conduct in
dispensing the enemy from his pledge to the mediators, when the Republic
expressly, in deference to James, had given up the ampler guarantees of
the treaty. The arrangement had been solemnly made, and consented to by
all the provinces, acting in their separate and sovereign capacity. Such
a radical change, even if it were otherwise permissible, could not be
made without long debates, consultations, and votes by the several
states. What could be more fatal at such a crisis than this childish
and causeless delay. There could be no doubt in any statesman's eyes
that the Spanish party meant war and a preparatory hoodwinking. And it
was even worse for the government of the Republic to be outwitted in
diplomacy than beaten in the field.
"Every man here," said the Advocate, "has more apprehension of fraud than
of force. According to the constitution of our state, to be overcome by
superior power must be endured, but to be overreached by trickery is a
reproach to the government."
The summer passed away. The States maintained their positions in the
duchies, notwithstanding the objurgations of James, and Barneveld
remained on his watch-tower observing every movement of the fast-
approaching war, and refusing at the price of the whole territory in
dispute to rescue Wesel and Aix-la-Chapelle from the grasp of the League.
Caron came to the Hague to have personal consultations with the States-
General, the Advocate, and Prince Maurice, and returned before the close
of the year. He had an audience of the King at the palace of Whitehall
early in November, and found him as immovable as ever in his apathetic
attitude in regard to the affairs of Germany. The murder of Sir Thomas
Overbury and the obscene scandals concerning the King's beloved Carr and
his notorious bride were then occupying the whole attention of the
monarch, so that he had not even time for theological lucubrations, still
less for affairs of state on which the peace of Christendom and the fate
of his own children were hanging.
The Ambassador found him sulky and dictatorial, but insisted on
expressing once more to him the apprehensions felt by the States-General
in regard to the trickery of the Spanish party in the matter of Cleve and
Julich. He assured his Majesty that they had no intention of maintaining
the Treaty of Xanten, and respectfully requested that the King would no
longer urge the States to surrender the places held by them. It was a
matter of vital importance to retain them, he said.
"Sir Henry Wotton told me," replied James, "that the States at his
arrival were assembled to deliberate on this matter, and he had no doubt
that they would take a resolution in conformity with my intention. Now I
see very well that you don't mean to give up the places. If I had known
that before, I should not have warned the Archduke so many times, which I
did at the desire of the States themselves. And now that the Archdukes
are ready to restore their cities, you insist on holding yours. That is
the dish you set before me."
And upon this James swore a mighty oath, and beat himself upon the
breast.
"Now and nevermore will I trouble myself about the States' affairs, come
what come will," he continued. "I have always been upright in my words
and my deeds, and I am not going to embark myself in a wicked war because
the States have plunged themselves into one so entirely unjust. Next
summer the Spaniard means to divide himself into two or three armies in
order to begin his enterprises in Germany."
Caron respectfully intimated that these enterprises would be most
conveniently carried on from the very advantageous positions which be
occupied in the duchies. "No," said the King, "he must restore them on
the same day on which you make your surrender, and he will hardly come
back in a hurry."
"Quite the contrary," said the Ambassador, "they will be back again in a
twinkling, and before we have the slightest warning of their intention."
But it signified not the least what Caron said. The King continued to
vociferate that the States had never had any intention of restoring the
cities.
"You mean to keep them for yourselves," he cried, "which is the greatest
injustice that could be perpetrated. You have no right to them, and they
belong to other people."
The Ambassador reminded him that the Elector of Brandenburg was well
satisfied that they should be occupied by the States for his greater
security and until the dispute should be concluded.
"And that will never be," said James; "never, never. The States are
powerful enough to carry on the war all alone and against all the world."
And so he went on, furiously reiterating the words with which he had
begun the conversation, "without accepting any reasons whatever in
payment," as poor Caron observed.
"It makes me very sad," said the Ambassador, "to find your Majesty so
impatient and so resolved. If the names of the kings are to be omitted
from the document, the Treaty of Xanten should at least be modified
accordingly."
"Nothing of the kind," said James; "I don't understand it so at all. I
speak plainly and without equivocation. It must be enough for the States
that I promise them, in case the enemy is cheating or is trying to play
any trick whatever, or is seeking to break the Treaty of Xanten in a
single point, to come to their assistance in person."
And again the warlike James swore a big oath and smote his breast,
affirming that he meant everything sincerely; that he cheated no one,
but always spoke his thoughts right on, clearly and uprightly.
It was certainly not a cheerful prospect for the States. Their chief
ally was determined that they should disarm, should strip themselves
naked, when the mightiest conspiracy against the religious freedom and
international independence of Europe ever imagined was perfecting itself
before their eyes, and when hostile armies, more numerous than ever
before known, were at their very door. To wait until the enemy was at
their throat, and then to rely upon a king who trembled at the sight of a
drawn sword, was hardly the highest statesmanship. Even if it had been
the chivalrous Henry instead of the pacific James that had held out the
promise of help, they would have been mad to follow such counsel.
The conversation lasted more than an hour. It was in vain that Caron
painted in dark colours the cruel deeds done by the Spaniards in Mulheim
and Aachen, and the proceedings of the Archbishop of Cologne in Rees.
The King was besotted, and no impression could be made upon him.
"At any rate," said the Envoy, "the arrangement cannot be concluded
without the King of France."
"What excuse is that?" said James. "Now that the King is entirely
Spanish, you are trying to excuse your delays by referring to him.
You have deferred rescuing the poor city of Wesel from the hands of the
Spaniard long enough. I am amazed to have heard never a word from you
on that subject since your departure. I had expressed my wish to you
clearly enough that you should inform the States of my intention to give
them any assurance they chose to demand."
Caron was much disappointed at the humour of his Majesty. Coming freshly
as he did from the council of the States, and almost from the seat of
war, he had hoped to convince and content him. But the King was very
angry with the States for putting him so completely in the wrong. He had
also been much annoyed at their having failed to notify him of their
military demonstration in the Electorate of Cologne to avenge the
cruelties practised upon the Protestants there. He asked Caron if he was
instructed to give him information regarding it. Being answered in the
negative, he said he had thought himself of sufficient importance to the
States and enough in their confidence to be apprised of their military
movements. It was for this, he said, that his ambassador sat in their
council. Caron expressed the opinion that warlike enterprises of the
kind should be kept as secret as possible in order to be successful.
This the King disputed, and loudly declared his vexation at being left in
ignorance of the matter. The Ambassador excused himself as well as he
could, on the ground that he had been in Zealand when the troops were
marching, but told the King his impression that they had been sent to
chastise the people of Cologne for their cruelty in burning and utterly
destroying the city of Mulheim.
"That is none of your affair," said the King.
"Pardon me, your Majesty," replied Caron, "they are our fellow
religionists, and some one at least ought to resent the cruelty
practised upon them."
The King admitted that the destruction of the city had been an unheard--
of cruelty, and then passed on to speak of the quarrel between the Duke
and City of Brunswick, and other matters. The interview ended, and the
Ambassador, very downhearted, went to confer with the Secretary of State
Sir Ralph Winwood, and Sir Henry Wotton.
He assured these gentlemen that without fully consulting the French
government these radical changes in the negotiations would never be
consented to by the States. Winwood promised to confer at once with the
French ambassador, admitting it to be impossible for the King to take up
this matter alone. He would also talk with the Archduke's ambassador
next day noon at dinner, who was about leaving for Brussels, and "he
would put something into his hand that he might take home with him."
"When he is fairly gone," said Caron, "it is to be hoped that the King's
head will no longer be so muddled about these things. I wish it with all
my heart."
It was a dismal prospect for the States. The one ally on whom they had
a right to depend, the ex-Calvinist and royal Defender of the Faith, in
this mortal combat of Protestantism with the League, was slipping out of
their grasp with distracting lubricity. On the other hand, the Most
Christian King, a boy of fourteen years, was still in the control of a
mother heart and soul with the League--so far as she had heart or soul--
was betrothed to the daughter of Spain, and saw his kingdom torn to
pieces and almost literally divided among themselves by rebellious
princes, who made use of the Spanish marriages as a pretext for unceasing
civil war.
The Queen-Mother was at that moment at Bordeaux, and an emissary from the
princes was in London. James had sent to offer his mediation between
them and the Queen. He was fond of mediation. He considered it his
special mission in the world to mediate. He imagined himself as looked
up to by the nations as the great arbitrator of Christendom, and was wont
to issue his decrees as if binding in force and infallible by nature. He
had protested vigorously against the Spanish-French marriages, and
declared that the princes were justified in formalizing an opposition to
them, at least until affairs in France were restored to something like
order. He warned the Queen against throwing the kingdom "into the
combustion of war without necessity," and declared that, if she would
trust to his guidance, she might make use of him as if her affairs were
his own. An indispensable condition for much assistance, however, would
be that the marriages should be put off.
As James was himself pursuing a Spanish marriage for his son as the chief
end and aim of his existence, there was something almost humorous in this
protest to the Queen-Dowager and in his encouragement of mutiny in France
in order to prevent a catastrophe there which he desired at home.
The same agent of the princes, de Monbaran by name, was also privately
accredited by them to the States with instructions to borrow 200,000
crowns of them if he could. But so long as the policy of the Republic
was directed by Barneveld, it was not very probable that, while
maintaining friendly and even intimate relations with the legitimate
government, she would enter into negotiations with rebels against it,
whether princes or plebeians, and oblige them with loans. "He will call
on me soon, no doubt," said Caron, "but being so well instructed as to
your Mightinesses intentions in this matter, I hope I shall keep him away
from you." Monbaran was accordingly kept away, but a few weeks later
another emissary of Conde and Bouillon made his appearance at the Hague,
de Valigny by name. He asked for money and for soldiers to reinforce
Bouillon's city of Sedan, but he was refused an audience of the States-
General. Even the martial ardour of Maurice and his sympathy for his
relatives were cooled by this direct assault on his pocket. "The
Prince," wrote the French ambassador, du Maurier, "will not furnish him
or his adherents a thousand crowns, not if they had death between their
teeth. Those who think it do not know how he loves his money."
In the very last days of the year (1615) Caron had another interview with
the King in which James was very benignant. He told the Ambassador that
he should wish the States to send him some special commissioners to make
a new treaty with him, and to treat of all unsettled affairs which were
daily arising between the inhabitants of the respective countries. He
wished to make a firmer union and accord between Great Britain and the
Netherlands. He was very desirous of this, "because," said he, "if we
can unite with and understand each other, we have under God no one what
ever to fear, however mighty they may be."
Caron duly notified Barneveld of these enthusiastic expressions of his
Majesty. The Advocate too was most desirous of settling the troublesome
questions about the cloth trade, the piracies, and other matters, and was
in favour of the special commission. In regard to a new treaty of
alliance thus loosely and vaguely suggested, he was not so sanguine
however. He had too much difficulty in enforcing the interests of
Protestantism in the duchies against the infatuation of James in regard
to Spain, and he was too well aware of the Spanish marriage delusion,
which was the key to the King's whole policy, to put much faith in these
casual outbursts of eternal friendship with the States. He contented
himself therefore with cautioning Caron to pause before committing
himself to any such projects. He had frequently instructed him, however,
to bring the disputed questions to his Majesty's notice as often as
possible with a view to amicable arrangement.
This preventive policy in regard to France was highly approved by
Barneveld, who was willing to share in the blame profusely heaped upon
such sincere patriots and devoted Protestants as Duplessis-Mornay and
others, who saw small advantage to the great cause from a mutiny against
established government, bad as it was, led by such intriguers as Conde
and Bouillon. Men who had recently been in the pay of Spain, and one of
whom had been cognizant of Biron's plot against the throne and life of
Henry IV., to whom sedition was native atmosphere and daily bread, were
not likely to establish a much more wholesome administration than that
of Mary de' Medici. Prince Maurice sympathized with his relatives by
marriage, who were leading the civil commotions in France and
endeavouring to obtain funds in the Netherlands. It is needless to say
that Francis Aerssens was deep in their intrigues, and feeding full the
grudge which the Stadholder already bore the Advocate for his policy on
this occasion.
The Advocate thought it best to wait until the young king should himself
rise in mutiny against his mother and her minions. Perhaps the downfall
of the Concini's and their dowager and the escape of Lewis from thraldom
might not be so distant as it seemed. Meantime this was the legal
government, bound to the States by treaties of friendship and alliance,
and it would be a poor return for the many favours and the constant aid
bestowed by Henry IV. on the Republic, and an imbecile mode of avenging
his murder to help throw his kingdom into bloodshed and confusion before
his son was able to act for himself. At the same time he did his best to
cultivate amicable relations with the princes, while scrupulously
abstaining from any sympathy with their movements. "If the Prince and
the other gentlemen come to court," he wrote to Langerac, "you will treat
them with all possible caresses so far as can be done without disrespect
to the government."
While the British court was occupied with the foul details of the
Overbury murder and its consequences, a crime of a more commonplace
nature, but perhaps not entirely without influence on great political
events, had startled the citizens of the Hague. It was committed in the
apartments of the Stadholder and almost under his very eyes. A jeweller
of Amsterdam, one John van Wely, had come to the court of Maurice to lay
before him a choice collection of rare jewellery. In his caskets were
rubies and diamonds to the value of more than 100,000 florins, which
would be the equivalent of perhaps ten times as much to-day. In the
Prince's absence the merchant was received by a confidential groom of the
chambers, John of Paris by name, and by him, with the aid of a third
John, a soldier of his Excellency's guard, called Jean de la Vigne,
murdered on the spot. The deed was done in the Prince's private study.
The unfortunate jeweller was shot, and to make sure was strangled with
the blue riband of the Order of the Garter recently conferred upon
Maurice, and which happened to be lying conspicuously in the room.
The ruffians had barely time to take possession of the booty, to thrust
the body behind the tapestry of the chamber, and to remove the more
startling evidences of the crime, when the Prince arrived. He supped
soon afterwards in the same room, the murdered jeweller still lying
behind the arras. In the night the valet and soldier carried the corpse
away from the room, down the stairs, and through the great courtyard,
where, strange to say, no sentinels were on duty, and threw it into an
ashpit.
A deed so bloody, audacious, and stupid was of course soon discovered and
the murderers arrested and executed. Nothing would remove the incident
from the catalogue of vulgar crimes, or even entitle it to a place in
history save a single circumstance. The celebrated divine John
Uytenbogaert, leader among the Arminians, devoted friend of Barneveld,
and up to that moment the favorite preacher of Maurice, stigmatized
indeed, as we have seen, by the orthodox as "Court Trumpeter," was
requested by the Prince to prepare the chief criminal for death. He did
so, and from that day forth the Stadholder ceased to be his friend,
although regularly listening to his preaching in the French chapel of the
court for more than a year longer. Some time afterwards the Advocate
informed Uytenbogaert that the Prince was very much embittered against
him. "I knew it well," says the clergyman in his memoirs, "but not the
reasons for it, nor do I exactly comprehend them to this day. Truly I
have some ideas relating to certain things which I was obliged to do in
discharge of my official duty, but I will not insist upon them, nor will
I reveal them to any man."
These were mysterious words, and the mystery is said to have been
explained; for it would seem that the eminent preacher was not so
entirely reticent among his confidential friends as before the public.
Uytenbogaert--so ran the tale--in the course of his conversation with the
condemned murderer, John of Paris, expressed a natural surprise that
there should have been no soldiers on guard in the court on the evening
when the crime was committed and the body subsequently removed. The
valet informed him that he had for a long time been empowered by the
Prince to withdraw the sentinels from that station, and that they had
been instructed to obey his orders--Maurice not caring that they should
be witnesses to the equivocal kind of female society that John of Paris
was in the habit of introducing of an evening to his master's apartments.
The valet had made use of this privilege on the night in question to rid
himself of the soldiers who would have been otherwise on guard.
The preacher felt it his duty to communicate these statements to the
Prince, and to make perhaps a somewhat severe comment upon them. Maurice
received the information sullenly, and, as soon as Uytenbogaert was gone,
fell into a violent passion, throwing his hat upon the floor, stamping
upon it, refusing to eat his supper, and allowing no one to speak to him.
Next day some courtiers asked the clergyman what in the world he had been
saying to the Stadholder.
From that time forth his former partiality for the divine, on whose
preaching he had been a regular attendant, was changed to hatred; a
sentiment which lent a lurid colour to subsequent events.
The attempts of the Spanish party by chicane or by force to get
possession of the coveted territories continued year after year, and were
steadily thwarted by the watchfulness of the States under guidance of
Barneveld. The martial stadholder was more than ever for open war, in
which he was opposed by the Advocate, whose object was to postpone and,
if possible, to avert altogether the dread catastrophe which he foresaw
impending over Europe. The Xanten arrangement seemed hopelessly thrown
to the winds, nor was it destined to be carried out; the whole question
of sovereignty and of mastership in those territories being swept
subsequently into the general whirlpool of the Thirty Years' War. So
long as there was a possibility of settlement upon that basis, the
Advocate was in favour of settlement, but to give up the guarantees and
play into the hands of the Catholic League was in his mind to make the
Republic one of the conspirators against the liberties of Christendom.
"Spain, the Emperor and the rest of them," said he, "make all three modes
of pacification--the treaty, the guarantee by the mediating kings, the
administration divided between the possessory princes--alike impossible.
They mean, under pretext of sequestration, to make themselves absolute
masters there. I have no doubt that Villeroy means sincerely, and
understands the matter, but meantime we sit by the fire and burn. If the
conflagration is neglected, all the world will throw the blame on us."