Meetkercke was the first to speak. He said that the Governor had

despatched them to the Prince, to express his good intentions, to

represent the fidelity with which his promises had thus far been

executed, and to entreat the Prince, together with the provinces of

Holland and Zealand, to unite with their sister provinces in common

allegiance to his Majesty. His Highness also proposed to advise with

them concerning the proper method of convoking the states-general. As

soon as Meetkercke had finished his observations, the Prince demanded

that the points and articles should be communicated to him in writing.

Now this was precisely what the envoys preferred to omit. It was easier,

and far more agreeable to expatiate in a general field of controversy,--

than to remain tethered to distinct points. It was particularly in these

confused conferences, where neither party was entirely sincere, that the

volatile word was thought preferable to the permanent letter. Already so

many watery lines had been traced, in the course of these fluctuating

negotiations, that a few additional records would be if necessary, as

rapidly effaced as the rest.

The commissioners, after whispering in each other's, ears for a few

minutes, refused to put down anything in writing. Protocols, they said,

only engendered confusion.

"No, no," said the .Prince, in reply, "we will have nothing except in

black and white. Otherwise things will be said on both sides, which will

afterwards be interpreted in different ways. Nay, it will be denied that

some important points have been discussed at all. We know that by

experience. Witness the solemn treaty of Ghent, which ye have tried to

make fruitless, under pretence that some points, arranged by word of

mouth, and not stated particularly in writing, had been intended in a

different sense from the obvious one. Governments given by royal

commission, for example; what point could be clearer? Nevertheless, ye

have hunted up glosses and cavils to obscure the intention of the

contracting parties. Ye have denied my authority over Utrecht, because

not mentioned expressly in the treaty of Ghent."

"But," said one of the envoys, interrupting at this point, "neither the

Council of State nor the Court of Mechlin consider Utrecht as belonging

to your Excellency's government."

"Neither the Council of State," replied the Prince, "nor the Court of

Mechlin have anything to do with the matter. 'Tis in my commission, and

all the world knows it." He added that instead of affairs being thrown

into confusion by being reduced to writing, he was of opinion, on the

contrary, that it was by that means alone they could be made perfectly

clear.

Leoninus replied, good naturedly, that there should be no difficulty

upon that score, and that writings should be exchanged. In the meantime,

however, he expressed the hope that the Prince would honor them with some

preliminary information as to the points in which he felt aggrieved, as

well as to the pledges which he and the states were inclined to demand.

"And what reason have we to hope," cried the Prince, "that your pledges,

if made; will be redeemed? That which was promised so solemnly at Ghent,

and ratified by Don John and his Majesty, has not been fulfilled."

"Of what particular point do you complain?" asked Schetz. "Wherein has

the Pacification been violated?"

Hereupon the Prince launched forth upon a flowing stream of invective.

He spoke to them of his son detained in distant captivity--of his own

property at Breda withheld--of a thousand confiscated estates--of

garrisons of German mercenaries--of ancient constitutions annihilated--

of the infamous edicts nominally suspended, but actually in full vigor.

He complained bitterly that the citadels, those nests and dens of

tyranny, were not yet demolished. "Ye accuse me of distrust," he cried;

"but while the castles of Antwerp, Ghent, Namur, and so many more are

standing, 'tis yourselves who show how utterly ye are without confidence

in any permanent and peaceful arrangement."

"And what," asked a deputy, smoothly, "is the point which touches you

most nearly? What is it that your Excellency most desires? By what

means will it be possible for the government fully to give you

contentment?"

"I wish," he answered, simply, "the full execution of the Ghent

Pacification. If you regard the general welfare of the land, it is well,

and I thank you. If not, 'tis idle to make propositions, for I regard my

country's profit, not my own."

Afterwards, the Prince simply repeated his demand that the Ghent treaty

should be executed; adding, that after the states-general should have

been assembled, it would be time to propose the necessary articles for

mutual security.

Hereupon Doctor Leoninus observed that the assembly of the states-general

could hardly be without danger. He alluded to the vast number of persons

who would thus be convoked, to the great discrepancy of humors which

would thus be manifested. Many men would be present neither discreet nor

experienced. He therefore somewhat coolly suggested that it might be

better to obviate the necessity of holding any general assembly at all.

An amicable conference, for the sake of settling doubtful questions,

would render the convocation superfluous, and save the country from the

dangers by which the step would be attended. The Doctor concluded by

referring to the recent assemblies of France, the only result of which

had been fresh dissensions. It thus appeared that the proposition on

the part of Don John meant something very different from its apparent

signification. To advise with the Prince as to the proper method of

assembling the estates really meant, to advise with him as to the best

means of preventing any such assembly. Here, certainly, was a good

reason for the preference expressed by the deputies, in favor of amicable

discussions over formal protocols. It might not be so easy in a written

document to make the assembly, and the prevention of the assembly, appear

exactly the same thing.

The Prince replied that there was a wide difference between the condition

of France and of the Netherlands. Here, was one will and one intention.

There, were many factions, many partialities, many family intrigues.

Since it had been agreed by the Ghent treaty that certain points should

be provisionally maintained and others settled by a speedy convocation of

the states-general, the plainest course was to maintain the provisional

points, and to summon the states-general at once. This certainly was

concise and logical. It is doubtful, however, whether he were really as

anxious for the assembly-general as he appeared to be. Both parties were

fencing at each other, without any real intention of carrying their

points, for neither wished the convocation, while both affected an

eagerness for that event. The conversation proceeded.

"At least," said an envoy, "you can tell beforehand in what you are

aggrieved, and what you have to propose."

"We are aggrieved in nothing, and we have nothing to propose," answered

the Prince, "so long as you maintain the Pacification. We demand no

other pledge, and are willing to refer everything afterwards to the

assembly."

"But," asked Schetz, "what security do you offer us that you will

yourselves maintain the Pacification?"

"We are not bound to give assurances," answered the Prince. "The

Pacification is itself an assurance. 'Tis a provisional arrangement,

to be maintained by both parties, until after the decision of the

assembly. The Pacification must therefore be maintained or disavowed.

Choose between the two. Only, if you mean still to acknowledge it, you

must keep its articles. This we mean to do, and if up to the present

time you have any complaint to make of our conduct, as we trust you have

not, we are ready to give you satisfaction."

"In short," said an envoy, "you mean, after we shall have placed in your

hands the government of Utrecht, Amsterdam: and other places, to deny us

any pledges on your part to maintain the Pacification."

"But," replied the Prince, "if we are already accomplishing the

Pacification, what more do you wish?"

"In this fashion," cried the others, "after having got all that you ask,

and having thus fortified yourselves more than you were ever fortified

before, you will make war upon us."

"War?" cried the Prince, "what are you afraid of? We are but a handful

of people; a worm compared to the King of Spain. Moreover, ye are

fifteen provinces to two. What have you to fear?"

"Ah," said Meetkercke, "we have seen what you could do, when you were

masters of the sea. Don't make yourselves out quite so little."

"But," said the Prince, "the Pacification of Ghent provides for all this.

Your deputies were perfectly satisfied with the guarantees it furnished.

As to making war upon you, 'tis a thing without foundation or appearance

of probability. Had you believed then that you had anything to fear, you

world not have forgotten to demand pledges enough. On the contrary, you

saw how roundly we were dealing with you then, honestly disgarnishing the

country, even before the peace had been concluded. For ourselves,

although we felt the right to demand guarantees, we would not do it, for

we were treating with you on terms of confidence. We declared expressly

that had we been dealing with the King, we should have exacted stricter

pledges. As to demanding them of us at the moment, 'tis nonsense. We

have neither the means of assailing you, nor do we deem it expedient to

do so."

"To say the truth," replied Schetz, "we are really confident that you

will not make war upon us. On the other hand, however, we see you

spreading your religion daily, instead of keeping it confined within your

provinces. What assurance do you give us that, after all your demand

shall have been accorded, you will make no innovation in religion."

"The assurance which we give you," answered the Prince, "is that we will

really accomplish the Pacification."

"But," persisted Schetz," do you fairly, promise to submit to all which

the states-general shall ordain, as well on this point of religious

exercise in Holland and Zealand, as on all the others?"

This was a home thrust. The Prince parried it for a while. In his

secret thoughts he had no expectation or desire that the states-general,

summoned in a solemn manner by the Governor-General, on the basis of the

memorable assembly before which was enacted the grand ceremony of the

imperial abdication, would ever hold their session, and although he did

not anticipate the prohibition by such assembly, should it take place, of

the Reformed worship in Holland and Zealand, he did not intend to submit

to it, even should it be made.

"I cannot tell," said he, accordingly, in reply to the last question,

"for ye have yourselves already broken and violated the Pacification;

having made an accord with Don John without our consent, and having

already received him as Governor."

"So that you don't mean," replied Schetz, "to accept the decision of the

states?"

"I don't say that," returned the Prince, continuing to parry; "it is

possible that we might accept it; it is possible that we might not. We

are no longer in our entire rights, as we were at the time of our first

submission at Ghent."

"But we will make you whole," said Schetz.

"That you cannot do," replied the Prince, "for you have broken the

Pacification all to pieces. We have nothing, therefore, to expect from

the states, but to be condemned off-hand.

"You don't mean, then," repeated Schetz, "to submit to the estates

touching the exercise of religion?"

"No, we do not!" replied the Prince, driven into a corner at last,

and striking out in his turn. "We certainly do not. To tell you the

truth, we see that you intend our extirpation, and we don't mean to be

extirpated."

"Ho!" said the Duke of Aerschot, "there is nobody who wishes that."

"Indeed, but you do," said the Prince. "We have submitted ourselves to

you in good faith, and you now would compel us and all the world to

maintain exclusively the Catholic religion. This cannot be done except

by extirpating us."

A long, learned, vehement discussion upon abstract points, between Saint

Aldegonde, Leoninus, and Doctor Gaill, then ensued, during which the

Prince, who had satisfied himself as to the result of the conference,

retired from the apartment. He afterwards had a private convention with

Schetz and Leoninus, in which he reproached them with their inclination

to reduce their fatherland to slavery. He also took occasion to remark

to Hiergea, that it was a duty to content the people; that whatever might

be accomplished for them was durable, whereas the will of kings was

perishing. He told the Duke of Aerschot that if Utrecht were not

restored, he would take it by force. He warned the Duke that to trust

the King was to risk his head. He, at least, would never repose

confidence in him, having been deceived too often. The King cherished

the maxim, 'hereticis non est servanda fides;' as for himself he was

'calbo y calbanista,' and meant to die so.

The formal interchange of documents soon afterwards took place. The

conversation thus held between the different parties shows, however, the

exact position of, affairs. There was no change in the intentions of

either; Reformers or Royalists. Philip and his representatives still

contended for two points, and claimed the praise of moderation that their

demands were so few in number. They were willing to concede everything,

save the unlimited authority of the King and the exclusive maintenance of

the Catholic religion. The Prince of Orange, on his side, claimed two

points also--the ancient constitutions of the country and religious

freedom. It was obvious enough that the contest was, the same in

reality, as it had ever been. No approximation had been made towards

reconciling absolutism with national liberty, persecution with

toleration. The Pacification of Ghent had been a step in advance. That

Treaty opened the door to civil and religious liberty, but it was an

agreement among the provinces, not a compact between the people and the

monarch. By the casuists of Brussels and the licentiates of Louvain, it

had, to be sure, been dogmatically pronounced orthodox, and had been

confirmed by royal edict. To believe, however, that his Catholic Majesty

had faith in the dogmas propounded, was as absurd as to believe in the

dogmas themselves. If the Ghent Pacification really had made no breach

in royal and Roman infallibility, then the efforts of Orange and the

exultation of the Reformers had indeed been idle.

The envoys accordingly, in obedience to their instructions, made a formal

statement to the Prince of Orange and the states of Holland and Zealand,

on the part of Don John. They alluded to the departure of the Spaniards,

as if that alone had fulfilled every duty and authorized every claim.

They therefore demanded the immediate publication in Holland and Zealand

of the Perpetual Edict. They insisted on the immediate discontinuance of

all hostile attempts to reduce Amsterdam to the jurisdiction of Orange;

required the Prince to abandon his pretensions to Utrecht, and denounced

the efforts making by him and his partisans to diffuse their heretical

doctrines through the other provinces. They observed, in conclusion,

that the general question of religion was not to be handled, because

reserved for the consideration of the states-general, according to the

treaty of Ghent.

The reply, delivered on the following day by the Prince of Orange and the

deputies, maintained that the Perpetual Edict was widely different from

the Pacification of Ghent, which it affected to uphold; that the promises

to abstain from all violation of the ancient constitutions had not been

kept; that the German troops had not been dismissed, that the property of

the Prince in the Netherlands and Burgundy had not been restored, that

his son was detained in captivity, that the government of Utrecht was

withheld from him, that the charters and constitution of the country,

instead of being extended, had been contracted, and that the Governor had

claimed the right to convoke the states-general at his pleasure, in

violation of the ancient right to assemble at their own. The document

further complained that the adherents of the Reformed religion were not

allowed to frequent the different provinces in freedom, according to the

stipulations of Ghent; that Don John, notwithstanding all these short-

comings, had been acknowledged as Governor-General, without the consent

of the Prince; that he was surrounded with a train of Spaniards Italians,

and other foreigners--Gonzaga, Escovedo, and the like--as well as by

renegade Netherlanders like Tassis, by whom he was unduly influenced

against the country and the people, and by whom a "back door was held

constantly open" to the admission of evils innumerable. Finally,

it was asserted that, by means of this last act of union, a new form

of inquisition had been introduced, and one which was much more cruel

than the old system; inasmuch as the Spanish Inquisition did not take

information against men: except upon suspicion, whereas, by the new

process, all the world would be examined as to their conscience and

religion, under pretence of maintaining the union.

Such was the result of this second mission to the Prince of Orange on the

part of the Governor-General. Don John never sent another. The swords

were now fairly measured between the antagonists, and the scabbard was

soon to be thrown away. A few weeks afterwards, the Governor wrote to

Philip that there was nothing in the world which William of Orange so

much abhorred as his Majesty; adding, with Castillian exaggeration, that

if the Prince could drink the King's blood he would do so with great

pleasure.

Don John, being thus seated in the saddle, had a moment's leisure to look

around him. It was but a moment, for he had small confidence in the

aspect of affairs, but one of his first acts after assuming the

government afforded a proof of the interpretation which he had adopted of

the Ghent Pacification. An edict was issued, addressed to all bishops,

"heretic-masters," and provincial councils, commanding the strict

enforcement of the Canons of Trent, and other ecclesiastical decrees.

These authorities were summoned instantly to take increased heed, of the

flocks under their charge, "and to protect them from the ravening wolves

which were seeking to devour them."

The measure bore instant fruit. A wretched tailor of Mechlin, Peter

Penis by name, an honest man, but a heretic, was arrested upon the charge

of having preached or exhorted at a meeting in that city. He confessed

that he had been present at the meeting, but denied that he had preached.

He was then required to denounce the others who had been present, and the

men who had actually officiated. He refused, and was condemned to death.

The Prince of Orange, while the process was pending, wrote an earnest

letter to the Council of Mechlin, imploring them not now to rekindle the

fires of religious persecution. His appeal was in vain. The poor tailor

was beheaded at Mechlin on the 15th of June, the Conqueror of Lepanto

being present at the execution, and adding dignity to the scene. Thus,

at the moment when William of Orange was protecting the Anabaptists of

Middelburg in their rights of citizenship, even while they refused its

obligations, the son of the Emperor was dipping his hands in the blood of

a poor wretch who had done no harm but to listen to a prayer without

denouncing the preacher. The most intimate friends of the Prince were

offended with his liberality. The imperial shade of Don John's father

might have risen to approve the son who had so dutifully revived his

bloody edicts and his ruthless policy.

Three parties were now fairly in existence: the nobles, who hated the

Spaniards, but who were disposed to hold themselves aloof from the

people; the adherents of Don John, commonly called "Johanists;" and the

partisans of the Prince of Orange--for William the Silent had always felt

the necessity of leaning for support on something more substantial than

the court party, a reed shaken by the wind, and failing always when most

relied upon. His efforts were constant to elevate the middle class, to

build up a strong third party which should unite much of the substantial

wealth and intelligence of the land, drawing constantly from the people,

and deriving strength from national enthusiasm--a party which should

include nearly all the political capacity of the country; and his efforts

were successful. No doubt the Governor and his Secretary were right when

they said the people of the Netherlands were inclined to brook the Turk

as easily as the Spaniard for their master, and that their hearts were in

reality devoted to the Prince of Orange.

As to the grandees, they were mostly of those who "sought to swim between

two waters," according to the Prince's expression. There were but few

unswerving supporters of the Spanish rule, like the Berlaymont and the

Tassis families. The rest veered daily with the veering wind. Aerschot,

the great chief of the Catholic party, was but a cringing courtier, false

and fawning both to Don John and the Prince. He sought to play a leading

part in a great epoch; he only distinguished himself by courting and

betraying all parties, and being thrown away by all. His son and brother

were hardly more respectable. The Prince knew how little dependence

could be placed on such allies, even although they had signed and sworn

the Ghent Pacification. He was also aware how little it was the

intention of the Governor to be bound by that famous Treaty. The Spanish

troops had been, indeed, disbanded, but there were still, between ten and

fifteen thousand German mercenaries in the service of the King; these

were stationed in different important places, and held firm possession of

the citadels. The great keys of the country were still in the hands of

the Spaniards. Aerschot, indeed, governed the castle of Antwerp, in room

of Sancho d'Avila, but how much more friendly would Aerschot be than

Avila, when interest prompted him to sustain Don John against the Prince?

Meanwhile; the estates, according to their contract, were straining every

nerve to raise the requisite sum for the payment of the German troops.

Equitable offers were made, by which the soldiers were to receive a

certain proportion of the arrears due to them in merchandize, and the

remainder in cash. The arrangement was rejected, at the secret instance

of Don John. While the Governor affected an ingenuous desire to aid the

estates in their efforts to free themselves from the remaining portion of

this incumbrance, he was secretly tampering with the leading German

officers, in order to prevent their acceptance of any offered terms. He

persuaded these military chiefs that a conspiracy existed, by which they

were not only to be deprived of their wages but of their lives. He

warned them to heed no promises, to accept no terms. Convincing them

that he, and he only, was their friend, he arranged secret plans by which

they should assist him in taking the fortresses of the country into still

more secure possession, for he was not more inclined to trust to the

Aerschots and the Havres than was the Prince himself.

The Governor lived in considerable danger, and in still greater dread of

capture, if not of assassination. His imagination, excited by endless

tales of ambush and half-discovered conspiracies, saw armed soldiers

behind every bush; a pitfall in every street. Had not the redoubtable

Alva been nearly made a captive? Did not Louis of Nassau nearly entrap

the Grand Commander? No doubt the Prince of Orange was desirous of

accomplishing a feat by which he would be placed in regard to Philip on

the vantage ground which the King had obtained by his seizure of Count

Van Buren, nor did Don John need for warnings coming from sources far

from obscure. In May, the Viscount De Gand had forced his way to his

bedside in the dead of night; and wakening him from his sleep, had

assured him, with great solemnity, that his life was not worth a pin's

purchase if he remained in Brussels. He was aware, he said, of a

conspiracy by which both his liberty and his life were endangered,

and assured him that in immediate flight lay his only safety.

The Rise of the Dutch Republic — Volume 25: 1577, part II · 第 2 / 3 段