This was the earliest indication on the part of the Advocate of the

intention of the Republic--so long as it should be directed by his

counsels--to support the cause of the young king, helpless and incapable

as he was, and directed for the time being by a weak and wicked mother,

against the reckless and depraved grandees, who were doing their best to

destroy the unity and the independence of France, Cornelis van der Myle

was sent back to Paris on special mission of condolence and comfort from

the States-General to the sorely afflicted kingdom.

On the 7th of June, accompanied by Aerssens, he had a long interview with

Villeroy. That minister, as usual, wept profusely, and said that in

regard to Cleve it was impossible for France to carry out the designs of

the late king. He then listened to what the ambassadors had to urge, and

continued to express his melancholy by weeping. Drying his tears for a

time, he sought by a long discourse to prove that France during this

tender minority of the King would be incapable of pursuing the policy of

his father. It would be even too burthensome to fulfil the Treaty of

Hall. The friends of the crown, he said, had no occasion to further it,

and it would be much better to listen to propositions for a treaty.

Archduke Albert was content not to interfere in the quarrel if the Queen

would likewise abstain; Leopold's forces were altogether too weak to make

head against the army of the princes, backed by the power of My Lords the

States, and Julich was neither strong nor well garrisoned. He concluded

by calmly proposing that the States should take the matter in hand by

themselves alone, in order to lighten the burthen of France, whose vigour

had been cut in two by that accursed knife.

A more sneaking and shameful policy was never announced by the minister

of a great kingdom. Surely it might seem that Ravaillac had cut in twain

not the vigour only but the honour and the conscience of France. But the

envoys, knowing in their hearts that they were talking not with a French

but a Spanish secretary of state, were not disposed to be the dupes of

his tears or his blandishments.

They reminded him that the Queen-Regent and her ministers since the

murder of the King had assured the States-General and the princes of

their firm intention to carry out the Treaty of Hall, and they observed

that they had no authority to talk of any negotiation. The affair of the

duchies was not especially the business of the States, and the Secretary

was well aware that they had promised their succour on the express

condition that his Majesty and his army should lead the way, and that

they should follow. This was very far from the plan now suggested, that

they should do it all, which would be quite out of the question. France

had a strong army, they said, and it would be better to use it than to

efface herself so pitiably. The proposition of abstention on the part of

the Archduke was a delusion intended only to keep France out of the

field.

Villeroy replied by referring to English affairs. King James, he said,

was treating them perfidiously. His first letters after the murder had

been good, but by the following ones England seemed to wish to put her

foot on France's throat, in order to compel her to sue for an alliance.

The British ministers had declared their resolve not to carry out that

convention of alliance, although it had been nearly concluded in the

lifetime of the late king, unless the Queen would bind herself to make

good to the King of Great Britain that third part of the subsidies

advanced by France to the States which had been furnished on English

account!

This was the first announcement of a grievance devised by the politicians

now governing France to make trouble for the States with that kingdom and

with Great Britain likewise. According to a treaty made at Hampton Court

by Sully during his mission to England at the accession of James, it had

been agreed that one-third of the moneys advanced by France in aid of the

United Provinces should be credited to the account of Great Britain, in

diminution of the debt for similar assistance rendered by Elizabeth to

Henry. In regard to this treaty the States had not been at all

consulted, nor did they acknowledge the slightest obligation in regard to

it. The subsidies in men and in money provided for them both by France

and by England in their struggle for national existence had always been

most gratefully acknowledged by the Republic, but it had always been

perfectly understood that these expenses had been incurred by each

kingdom out of an intelligent and thrifty regard for its own interest.

Nothing could be more ridiculous than to suppose France and England

actuated by disinterested sympathy and benevolence when assisting the

Netherland people in its life-and-death struggle against the dire and

deadly enemy of both crowns. Henry protested that, while adhering to

Rome in spiritual matters, his true alliances and strength had been found

in the United Provinces, in Germany, and in Great Britain. As for the

States, he had spent sixteen millions of livres, he said, in acquiring a

perfect benevolence on the part of the States to his person. It was the

best bargain he had ever made, and he should take care to preserve it at

any cost whatever, for he considered himself able, when closely united

with them, to bid defiance to all the kings in Europe together.

Yet it was now the settled policy of the Queen-Regent's council,

so far as the knot of politicians guided by the Nuncius and the Spanish

ambassador in the entresols of the Louvre could be called a council, to

force the States to refund that third, estimated at something between

three and four million livres, which France had advanced them on account

of Great Britain.

Villeroy told the two ambassadors at this interview that, if Great

Britain continued to treat the Queen-Regent in such fashion, she would be

obliged to look about for other allies. There could hardly be doubt as

to the quarter in which Mary de' Medici was likely to look. Meantime,

the Secretary of State urged the envoys "to intervene at once to-mediate

the difference." There could be as little doubt that to mediate the

difference was simply to settle an account which they did not owe.

The whole object of the Minister at this first interview was to induce

the States to take the whole Cleve enterprise upon their own shoulders,

and to let France off altogether. The Queen-Regent as then advised meant

to wash her hands of the possessory princes once and for ever. The

envoys cut the matter short by assuring Villeroy that they would do

nothing of the kind. He begged them piteously not to leave the princes

in the lurch, and at the same time not to add to the burthens of France

at so disastrous a moment.

So they parted. Next day, however, they visited the Secretary again, and

found him more dismal and flaccid than ever.

He spoke feebly and drearily about the succour for the great enterprise,

recounted all the difficulties in the way, and, having thrown down

everything that the day before had been left standing, he tried to

excuse an entire change of policy by the one miserable crime.

He painted a forlorn picture of the council and of France. "I can

myself do nothing as I wish," added the undisputed controller of that

government's policy, and then with a few more tears he concluded by

requesting the envoys to address their demands to the Queen in writing.

This was done with the customary formalities and fine speeches on both

sides; a dull comedy by which no one was amused.

Then Bouillon came again, and assured them that there had been a chance

that the engagements of Henry, followed up by the promise of the Queen-

Regent, would be carried out, but now the fact was not to be concealed

that the continued battery of the Nuncius, of the ambassadors of Spain

and of the Archdukes, had been so effective that nothing sure or solid

was thenceforth to be expected; the council being resolved to accept the

overtures of the Archduke for mutual engagement to abstain from the

Julich enterprise.

Nothing in truth could be more pitiable than the helpless drifting of the

once mighty kingdom, whenever the men who governed it withdrew their

attention for an instant from their private schemes of advancement and

plunder to cast a glance at affairs of State. In their secret heart they

could not doubt that France was rushing on its ruin, and that in the

alliance of the Dutch commonwealth, Britain, and the German Protestants,

was its only safety. But they trembled before the Pope, grown bold and

formidable since the death of the dreaded Henry. To offend his Holiness,

the King of Spain, the Emperor, and the great Catholics of France, was to

make a crusade against the Church. Garnier, the Jesuit, preached from

his pulpit that "to strike a blow in the Cleve enterprise was no less a

sin than to inflict a stab in the body of our Lord." The Parliament of

Paris having ordered the famous treatise of the Jesuit Mariana--

justifying the killing of excommunicated kings by their subjects--to be

publicly burned before Notre Dame, the Bishop opposed the execution of

the decree. The Parliament of Paris, although crushed by Epernon in its

attempts to fix the murder of the King upon himself as the true culprit,

was at least strong enough to carry out this sentence upon a printed,

volume recommending the deed, and the Queen's council could only do its

best to mitigate the awakened wrath of the Jesuits at this exercise of

legal authority.--At the same time, it found on the whole so many more

difficulties in a cynical and shameless withdrawal from the Treaty of

Hall than in a nominal and tardy fulfilment of its conditions that it

resolved at last to furnish the 8000 foot and 2000 horse promised to the

possessory princes. The next best thing to abandoning entirely even this

little shred, this pitiful remnant, of the splendid designs of Henry was

to so arrange matters that the contingent should be feebly commanded, and

set on foot in so dilatory a manner that the petty enterprise should on

the part of France be purely perfunctory. The grandees of the kingdom

had something more important to do than to go crusading in Germany, with

the help of a heretic republic, to set up the possessory princes. They

were fighting over the prostrate dying form of their common mother for

their share of the spoils, stripping France before she was dead, and

casting lots for her vesture.

Soissons was on the whole in favour of the Cleve expedition. Epernon was

desperately opposed to it, and maltreated Villeroy in full council when

he affected to say a word, insincere as the Duke knew it to be, in favour

of executing agreements signed by the monarch, and sealed with the great

seal of France. The Duke of Guise, finding himself abandoned by the

Queen, and bitterly opposed and hated by Soissons, took sides with his

deaf and dumb and imbecile brother, and for a brief interval the Duke of

Sully joined this strange combination of the House of Lorraine and chiefs

of ancient Leaguers, who welcomed him with transport, and promised him

security.

Then Bouillon, potent by his rank, his possessions, and his authority

among the Protestants, publicly swore that he would ruin Sully and change

the whole order of the government. What more lamentable spectacle, what

more desolate future for the cause of religious equality, which for a

moment had been achieved in France, than this furious alienation of the

trusted leaders of the Huguenots, while their adversaries were carrying

everything before them? At the council board Bouillon quarrelled

ostentatiously with Sully, shook his fist in his face, and but for the

Queen's presence would have struck him. Next day he found that the Queen

was intriguing against himself as well as against Sully, was making a

cat's-paw of him, and was holding secret councils daily from which he as

well as Sully was excluded. At once he made overtures of friendship to

Sully, and went about proclaiming to the world that all Huguenots were to

be removed from participation in affairs of state. His vows of vengeance

were for a moment hushed by the unanimous resolution of the council that,

as first marshal of France, having his principality on the frontier, and

being of the Reformed religion, he was the fittest of all to command the

expedition. Surely it might be said that the winds and tides were not

more changeful than the politics of the Queen's government. The Dutch

ambassador was secretly requested by Villeroy to negotiate with Bouillon

and offer him the command of the Julich expedition. The Duke affected

to make difficulties, although burning to obtain the post, but at last

consented. All was settled. Aerssens communicated at once with

Villeroy, and notice of Bouillon's acceptance was given to the Queen,

when, behold, the very next day Marshal de la Chatre was appointed to

the command expressly because he was a Catholic. Of course the Duke

of Bouillon, furious with Soissons and Epernon and the rest of the

government, was more enraged than ever against the Queen. His only hope

was now in Conde, but Conde at the outset, on arriving at the Louvre,

offered his heart to the Queen as a sheet of white paper. Epernon and

Soissons received him with delight, and exchanged vows of an eternal

friendship of several weeks' duration. And thus all the princes of the

blood, all the cousins of Henry of Navarre, except the imbecile Conti,

were ranged on the side of Spain, Rome, Mary de' Medici, and Concino

Concini, while the son of the Balafre, the Duke of Mayenne, and all their

adherents were making common cause with the Huguenots. What better

example had been seen before, even in that country of pantomimic changes,

of the effrontery with which Religion was made the strumpet of Political

Ambition?

All that day and the next Paris was rife with rumours that there was to

be a general massacre of the Huguenots to seal the new-born friendship of

a Conde with a Medici. France was to renounce all her old alliances and

publicly to enter into treaties offensive and defensive with Spain. A

league like that of Bayonne made by the former Medicean Queen-Regent of

France was now, at Villeroy's instigation, to be signed by Mary de'

Medici. Meantime, Marshal de la Chatre, an honest soldier and fervent

Papist, seventy-three years of age, ignorant of the language, the

geography, the politics of the country to which he was sent, and knowing

the road thither about as well, according to Aerssens, who was requested

to give him a little preliminary instruction, as he did the road to

India, was to co-operate with Barneveld and Maurice of Nassau in the

enterprise against the duchies.

These were the cheerful circumstances amid which the first step in the

dead Henry's grand design against the House of Austria and in support of

Protestantism in half Europe and of religious equality throughout

Christendom, was now to be ventured.

Cornelis van der Myle took leave of the Queen on terminating his brief

special embassy, and was fain to content himself with languid assurances

from that corpulent Tuscan dame of her cordial friendship for the United

Provinces. Villeroy repeated that the contingent to be sent was

furnished out of pure love to the Netherlands, the present government

being in no wise bound by the late king's promises. He evaded the

proposition of the States for renewing the treaty of close alliance by

saying that he was then negotiating with the British government on the

subject, who insisted as a preliminary step on the repayment of the third

part of the sums advanced to the States by the late king.

He exchanged affectionate farewell greetings and good wishes with Jeannin

and with the dropsical Duke of Mayenne, who was brought in his chair to

his old fellow Leaguer's apartments at the moment of the Ambassador's

parting interview.

There was abundant supply of smooth words, in the plentiful lack of any

substantial nutriment, from the representatives of each busy faction into

which the Medicean court was divided. Even Epernon tried to say a

gracious word to the retiring envoy, assuring him that he would do as

much for the cause as a good Frenchman and lover of his fatherland could

do. He added, in rather a surly way, that he knew very well how foully

he had been described to the States, but that the devil was not as black

as he was painted. It was necessary, he said, to take care of one's own

house first of all, and he knew very well that the States and all prudent

persons would do the same thing.

ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

And now the knife of another priest-led fanatic

As with his own people, keeping no back-door open

At a blow decapitated France

Conclusive victory for the allies seemed as predestined

Epernon, the true murderer of Henry

Father Cotton, who was only too ready to betray the secrets

Great war of religion and politics was postponed

Jesuit Mariana--justifying the killing of excommunicated kings

No man pretended to think of the State

Practised successfully the talent of silence

Queen is entirely in the hands of Spain and the priests

Religion was made the strumpet of Political Ambition

Smooth words, in the plentiful lack of any substantial

Stroke of a broken table knife sharpened on a carriage wheel

The assassin, tortured and torn by four horses

They have killed him, 'e ammazato,' cried Concini

Things he could tell which are too odious and dreadful

Uncouple the dogs and let them run

Vows of an eternal friendship of several weeks' duration

What could save the House of Austria, the cause of Papacy

Wrath of the Jesuits at this exercise of legal authority

Life and Death of John of Barneveld, Advocate of Holland : with a view of the primary causes and movements of the Thirty Years' War, 1610b · 第 6 / 6 段