Effect of the Assassination of Henry III.--Concentration of forces
for the invasion of France--The Netherlands determine on striking a
blow for freedom--Organization of a Dutch army--Stratagem to
surprise the castle of Breda--Intrepidity and success of the
enterprise.
The dagger of Jacques Clement had done much, and was likely to do more,
to change the face of Europe. Another proof was afforded that
assassination had become a regular and recognised factor in the political
problems of the sixteenth century. Another illustration was exhibited of
the importance of the individual--even although that individual was in
himself utterly despicable--to the working out of great historical
results. It seemed that the murder of Henry III.--that forlorn caricature
of kingship and of manhood--was likely to prove eminently beneficial to
the cause of the Netherland commonwealth. Five years earlier, the murder
of William the Silent had seemed to threaten its very existence.
For Philip the Prudent, now that France was deprived of a head, conceived
that the time had arrived when he might himself assume the sovereignty of
that kingdom. While a thing of straw, under the name of Charles X. and
shape of a Cardinal Bourbon, was set up to do battle with that living
sovereign and soldier, the heretic Bearnese, the Duke of Parma was
privately ordered to bend all his energies towards the conquest of the
realm in dispute, under pretence of assisting the Holy League.
Accordingly, early in the year 1590, Alexander concentrated a
considerable force on the French frontier in Artois and Hainault,
apparently threatening Bergen-op-Zoom and other cities in South Holland,
but in reality preparing to invade France. The Duke of Mayenne, who had
assumed the title of lieutenant-general of that kingdom, had already
visited him at Brussels in order to arrange the plan of the campaign.
While these measures were in preparation, an opportunity was likely to be
afforded to the Netherlanders of striking a blow or two for liberty and
independence; now that all the force that possibly could be spared was to
be withdrawn by their oppressors and to be used for the subjugation of
their neighbours. The question was whether there would be a statesman and
a soldier ready to make use of this golden opportunity.
There was a statesman ripe and able who, since the death of the Taciturn,
had been growing steadily in the estimation of his countrymen and who
already was paramount in the councils of the States-General. There was a
soldier, still very young, who was possessed of the strongest hereditary
claims to the confidence and affection of the United Provinces and who
had been passing a studious youth in making himself worthy of his father
and his country. Fortunately, too, the statesman and the soldier were
working most harmoniously together. John of Olden-Barneveld, with his
great experience and vast and steady intellect, stood side by side with
young Maurice of Nassau at this important crisis in the history of the
new commonwealth.
At length the twig was becoming the tree--'tandem fit surculus
arbor'--according to the device assumed by the son of William the Silent
after his father's death.
The Netherlands had sore need of a practical soldier to contend with the
scientific and professional tyrants against whom they had so long been
struggling, and Maurice, although so young, was pre-eminently a practical
man. He was no enthusiast; he was no poet. He was at that period
certainly no politician. Not often at the age of twenty has a man devoted
himself for years to pure mathematics for the purpose of saving his
country. Yet this was Maurice's scheme. Four years long and more, when
most other youths in his position and at that epoch would have been
alternating between frivolous pleasures and brilliant exploits in the
field, the young prince had spent laborious days and nights with the
learned Simon Stevinus of Bruges. The scientific work which they composed
in common, the credit of which the master assigned to the pupil, might
have been more justly attributed perhaps to the professor than to the
prince, but it is certain that Maurice was an apt scholar.
In that country, ever held in existence by main human force against the
elements, the arts of engineering, hydrostatics and kindred branches were
of necessity much cultivated. It was reserved for the young mathematician
to make them as potent against a human foe.
Moreover, there were symptoms that the military discipline, learning and
practical skill, which had almost made Spain the mistress of the world,
were sinking into decay. Farnese, although still in the prime of life,
was broken in health, and there seemed no one fit to take the place of
himself and his lieutenants when they should be removed from the scene
where they had played their parts so consummately. The army of the
Netherlands was still to be created. Thus far the contest had been mainly
carried on by domestic militia and foreign volunteers or hirelings. The
train-bands of the cities were aided in their struggles against Spanish
pikemen and artillerists, Italian and Albanian cavalry by the German
riders, whom every little potentate was anxious to sell to either
combatant according to the highest bid, and by English mercenaries, whom
the love of adventure or the hope of plunder sent forth under such
well-seasoned captains as Williams and Morgan, Vere and the Norrises,
Baskerville and Willoughby.
But a Dutch army there was none and Maurice had determined that at last a
national force should be created. In this enterprise he was aided and
guided by his cousin Lewis William, Stadtholder of Friesland--the quaint,
rugged little hero, young in years but almost a veteran in the wars of
freedom, who was as genial and intellectual in council as he was reckless
and impulsive in the field.
Lewis William had felt that the old military art was dying out and
that--there was nothing to take its place. He was a diligent student of
antiquity. He had revived in the swamps of Friesland the old manoeuvres,
the quickness of wheeling, the strengthening, without breaking ranks or
columns, by which the ancient Romans had performed so much excellent work
in their day, and which seemed to have passed entirely into oblivion. Old
colonels and rittmasters, who had never heard of Leo the Thracian nor the
Macedonian phalanx, smiled and shrugged their shoulders, as they listened
to the questions of the young count, or gazed with profound astonishment
at the eccentric evolutions to which he was accustoming his troops. From
the heights of superior wisdom they looked down with pity upon these
innovations on the good old battle order. They were accustomed to great
solid squares of troops wheeling in one way, steadily, deliberately, all
together, by one impulse and as one man. It was true that in narrow
fields, and when the enemy was pressing, such stately evolutions often
became impossible or ensured defeat; but when the little Stadtholder
drilled his soldiers in small bodies of various shapes, teaching them to
turn, advance; retreat; wheel in a variety of ways, sometimes in
considerable masses, sometimes man by man, sending the foremost suddenly
to the rear, or bringing the hindmost ranks to the front, and began to
attempt all this in narrow fields as well as in wide ones, and when the
enemy was in sight, men stood aghast at his want of reverence, or laughed
at him as a pedant. But there came a day when they did not laugh, neither
friends nor enemies. Meantime the two cousins, who directed all the
military operations in the provinces, understood each other thoroughly
and proceeded to perfect their new system, to be adopted at a later
period by all civilized nations.
The regular army of the Netherlands was small in number at that
moment--not more than twenty thousand foot with two thousand horse--but
it was well disciplined, well equipped, and, what was of great
importance, regularly paid. Old campaigners complained that in the
halcyon days of paper enrolments, a captain could earn more out of his
company than a colonel now received for his whole regiment. The days when
a thousand men were paid for, with a couple of hundred in the field, were
passing away for the United Provinces and existed only for Italians and
Spaniards. While, therefore, mutiny on an organised and extensive scale
seemed almost the normal condition of the unpaid legions of Philip, the
little army of Maurice was becoming the model for Europe to imitate.
The United Provinces were as yet very far from being masters of their own
territory. Many of their most important cities still held for the king.
In Brabant, such towns as Breda with its many dependencies and
Gertruydenberg; on the Waal, the strong and wealthy Nymegen which Martin
Schenk had perished in attempting to surprise; on the Yssel, the thriving
city of Zutphen, whose fort had been surrendered by the traitor York, and
the stately Deventer, which had been placed in Philip's possession by the
treachery of Sir William Stanley; on the borders of Drenthe, the almost
impregnable Koevorden, key to the whole Zwollian country; and in the very
heart of ancient Netherland, Groningen, capital of the province of the
same name, which the treason of Renneberg had sold to the Spanish tyrant;
all these flourishing cities and indispensable strongholds were
garrisoned by foreign troops, making the idea of Dutch independence a
delusion.
While Alexander of Parma, sorely against his will and in obedience to
what, he deemed the insane suggestions of his master, was turning his
back on the Netherlands in order to relieve Paris, now hard pressed by
the Bearnese, an opportunity offered itself of making at least a
beginning in the great enterprise of recovering these most valuable
possessions.
The fair and pleasant city of Breda lies on the Merk, a slender stream,
navigable for small vessels, which finds its way to the sea through the
great canal of the Dintel. It had been the property of the Princes of
Orange, Barons of Breda, and had passed with the other possessions of the
family to the house of Chalons-Nassau. Henry of Nassau had, half a
century before, adorned and strengthened it by a splendid palace-fortress
which, surrounded by a deep and double moat, thoroughly commanded the
town. A garrison of five companies of Italian infantry and one of cavalry
lay in this castle, which was under the command of Edward Lanzavecchia,
governor both of Breda and of the neighbouring Gertruydenberg.
Breda was an important strategical position. It was moreover the feudal
superior of a large number of adjacent villages as well as of the cities
Osterhout, Steenberg and Rosendaal. It was obviously not more desirable
for Maurice of Nassau to recover his patrimonial city than it was for the
States-General to drive the Spaniards from so important a position!
In the month of February, 1590, Maurice, being then at the castle of
Voorn in Zeeland, received a secret visit from a boatman, Adrian van der
Berg by name, who lived at the village of Leur, eight or ten miles from
Breda, and who had long been in the habit of supplying the castle with
turf. In the absence of woods and coal mines, the habitual fuel of the
country was furnished by those vast relics of the antediluvian forests
which abounded in the still partially submerged soil. The skipper
represented that his vessel had passed so often into and out of the
castle as to be hardly liable to search by the guard on its entrance. He
suggested a stratagem by which it might be possible to surprise the
stronghold.
The prince approved of the scheme and immediately consulted with
Barneveld. That statesman at once proposed, as a suitable man to carry
out the daring venture, Captain Charles de Heraugiere, a nobleman of
Cambray, who had been long in the service of the States, had
distinguished himself at Sluys and on other occasions, but who had been
implicated in Leicester's nefarious plot to gain possession of the city
of Leyden a few years before. The Advocate expressed confidence that he
would be grateful for so signal an opportunity of retrieving a somewhat
damaged reputation. Heraugiere, who was with his company in Voorn at the
moment, eagerly signified his desire to attempt the enterprise as soon as
the matter was communicated to him; avowing the deepest devotion to the
house of William the Silent and perfect willingness to sacrifice his
life, if necessary, in its cause and that of the country. Philip Nassau,
cousin of Prince Maurice and brother of Lewis William, governor of
Gorcum, Dorcum, and Lowenstein Castle and colonel of a regiment of
cavalry, was also taken into the secret, as well as Count Hohenlo,
President Van der Myle and a few others; but a mystery was carefully
spread and maintained over the undertaking.
Heraugiere selected sixty-eight men, on whose personal daring and
patience he knew that he could rely, from the regiments of Philip Nassau
and of Famars, governor of the neighbouring city of Heusden, and from his
own company. Besides himself, the officers to command the party were
captains Logier and Fervet, and lieutenant Matthew Held. The names of
such devoted soldiers deserve to be commemorated and are still freshly
remembered by their countrymen.
On the 25th of February, Maurice and his staff went to Willemstad on the
Isle of Klundert, it having been given out on his departure from the
Hague that his destination was Dort. On the same night at about eleven
o'clock, by the feeble light of a waning moon, Heraugiere and his band
came to the Swertsenburg ferry, as agreed upon, to meet the boatman. They
found neither him nor his vessel, and they wandered about half the night,
very cold, very indignant, much perplexed. At last, on their way back,
they came upon the skipper at the village of Terheyde, who made the
extraordinary excuse that he had overslept himself and that he feared the
plot had been discovered. It being too late to make any attempt that
night, a meeting was arranged for the following evening. No suspicion of
treachery occurred to any of the party, although it became obvious that
the skipper had grown faint-hearted. He did not come on the next night to
the appointed place but he sent two nephews, boatmen like himself, whom
he described as dare-devils.
On Monday night, the 26th of February, the seventy went on board the
vessel, which was apparently filled with blocks of turf, and packed
themselves closely in the hold. They moved slowly during a little time on
their perilous voyage; for the winter wind, thick with fog and sleet,
blew directly down the river, bringing along with it huge blocks of ice
and scooping the water out of the dangerous shallows, so as to render the
vessel at any moment liable to be stranded. At last the navigation became
impossible and they came to a standstill. From Monday night till Thursday
morning those seventy Hollanders lay packed like herrings in the hold of
their little vessel, suffering from hunger, thirst, and deadly cold; yet
not one of them attempted to escape or murmured a wish to abandon the
enterprise. Even when the third morning dawned there was no better
prospect of proceeding; for the remorseless east wind still blew a gale
against them, and the shoals which beset their path had become more
dangerous than ever. It was, however, absolutely necessary to recruit
exhausted nature, unless the adventurers were to drop powerless on the
threshold when they should at last arrive at their destination. In all
secrecy they went ashore at a lonely castle called Nordam, where they
remained to refresh themselves until about eleven at night, when one of
the boatmen came to them with the intelligence that the wind had changed
and was now blowing freshly in from the sea. Yet the voyage of a few
leagues, on which they were embarked, lasted nearly two whole days
longer. On Saturday afternoon they passed through the last sluice, and at
about three o'clock the last boom was shut behind them. There was no
retreat possible for them now. The seventy were to take the strong castle
and city of Breda or to lay down their lives, every man of them. No
quarter and short shrift--such was their certain destiny, should that
half-crippled, half-frozen little band not succeed in their task before
another sunrise.
They were now in the outer harbour and not far from the Watergate which
led into the inner castle-haven. Presently an officer of the guard put
off in a skiff and came on board the vessel. He held a little
conversation with the two boatmen, observed that the castle was--much in
want of full, took a survey of the turf with which the ship was
apparently laden, and then lounged into the little cabin. Here he was
only separated by a sliding trap-door from the interior of the vessel.
Those inside could hear and see his every movement. Had there been a
single cough or sneeze from within, the true character of the cargo, then
making its way into the castle, would have been discovered and every man
would within ten minutes have been butchered. But the officer,
unsuspecting, soon took his departure, saying that he would send some men
to warp the vessel into the castle dock.
Meantime, as the adventurers were making their way slowly towards the
Watergate, they struck upon a hidden obstruction in the river and the
deeply laden vessel sprang a leak. In a few minutes those inside were
sitting up to their knees in water--a circumstance which scarcely
improved their already sufficiently dismal condition. The boatmen
vigorously plied the pumps to save the vessel from sinking outright; a
party of Italian soldiers soon arrived on the shore, and in the course of
a couple of hours they had laboriously dragged the concealed Hollanders
into the inner harbour and made their vessel fast, close to the
guard-house of the castle.
And now a crowd of all sorts came on board. The winter nights had been
long and fearfully cold, and there was almost a dearth of fuel both in
town and fortress. A gang of labourers set to work discharging the turf
from the vessel with such rapidity that the departing daylight began to
shine in upon the prisoners much sooner than they wished. Moreover, the
thorough wetting, to which after all their other inconveniences they had
just been exposed in their narrow escape from foundering, had set the
whole party sneezing and coughing. Never was a catarrh so sudden, so
universal, or so ill-timed. Lieutenant Held, unable to control the
violence of his cough, drew his dagger and eagerly implored his next
neighbour to stab him to the heart, lest his infirmity should lead to the
discovery of the whole party. But the calm and wary skipper who stood on
the deck instantly commanded his companion to work at the pump with as
much clatter as possible, assuring the persons present that the hold was
nearly full of water. By this means the noise of the coughing was
effectually drowned. Most thoroughly did the bold boatman deserve the
title of dare-devil, bestowed by his more fainthearted uncle. Calmly
looking death in the face, he stood there quite at his ease, exchanging
jokes with his old acquaintances, chaffering with the eager purchasers of
peat shouting most noisy and superfluous orders to the one man who
composed his crew, doing his utmost, in short, to get rid of his
customers and to keep enough of the turf on board to conceal the
conspirators.
At last, when the case seemed almost desperate, he loudly declared that
sufficient had been unladen for that evening and that it was too dark and
he too tired for further work. So, giving a handful of stivers among the
workmen, he bade them go ashore at once and have some beer and come next
morning for the rest of the cargo. Fortunately, they accepted his
hospitable proposition and took their departure. Only the servant of the
captain of the guard lingered behind, complaining that the turf was not
as good as usual and that his master would never be satisfied with it.
"Ah!" returned the cool skipper, "the best part of the cargo is
underneath. This is expressly reserved for the captain. He is sure to get
enough of it to-morrow."
Thus admonished, the servant departed and the boatman was left to
himself. His companion had gone on shore with secret orders to make the
best of his way to Prince Maurice, to inform him of the arrival of the
ship within the fortress, and of the important fact which they had just
learned, that Governor Lanzavecchia, who had heard rumours of some
projected enterprise and who suspected that the object aimed at was
Gertruydenberg, had suddenly taken his departure for that city, leaving
as his lieutenant his nephew Paolo, a raw lad quite incompetent to
provide for the safety of Breda.
A little before midnight, Captain Heraugiere made a brief address to his
comrades in the vessel, telling them that the hour for carrying out their
undertaking had at length arrived. Retreat was impossible, defeat was
certain death, only in complete victory lay their own safety and a great
advantage for the commonwealth. It was an honor to them to be selected
for such an enterprise. To show cowardice now would be an eternal shame
for them, and he would be the man to strike dead with his own hand any
traitor or poltroon. But if, as he doubted not, every one was prepared to
do his duty, their success was assured, and he was himself ready to take
the lead in confronting every danger.
He then divided the little band into two companies, one under himself to
attack the main guard-house, the other under Fervet to seize the arsenal
of the fortress.
Noiselessly they stole out of the ship where they had so long been
confined, and stood at last on the ground within the precincts of the
castle. Heraugiere marched straight to the guard-house.
"Who goes there?" cried a sentinel, hearing some movement in the
darkness.
"A friend," replied the captain, seizing him, by the throat, and
commanding him, if he valued his life, to keep silence except when
addressed and then to speak in a whisper.
"How many are there in the garrison?" muttered Heraugiere.
"Three hundred and fifty," whispered the sentinel.
"How many?" eagerly demanded the nearest followers, not hearing the
reply.
"He says there are but fifty of them," said Heraugiere, prudently
suppressing the three hundred, in order to encourage his comrades.
Quietly as they had made their approach, there was nevertheless a stir in
the guard-house. The captain of the watch sprang into the courtyard.
"Who goes there?" he demanded in his turn.
"A friend," again replied Heraugiere, striking him dead with a single
blow as he spoke.
Others emerged with torches. Heraugiere was slightly wounded, but
succeeded, after a brief struggle, in killing a second assailant. His
followers set upon the watch who retreated into the guard-house.
Heraugiere commanded his men to fire through the doors and windows, and
in a few minutes every one of the enemy lay dead.
It was not a moment for making prisoners or speaking of quarter. Meantime
Fervet and his band had not been idle. The magazine-house of the castle
was seized, its defenders slain. Young Lanzavecchia made a sally from the
palace, was wounded and driven back together with a few of his adherents.
The rest of the garrison fled helter-skelter into the town. Never had the
musketeers of Italy--for they all belonged to Spinola's famous Sicilian
Legion--behaved so badly. They did not even take the precaution to
destroy the bridge between the castle and the town as they fled
panic-stricken before seventy Hollanders. Instead of encouraging the
burghers to their support they spread dismay, as they ran, through every
street.
Young Lanzavecchia, penned into a corner of the castle; began to parley;
hoping for a rally before a surrender should be necessary. In the midst
of the negotiation and a couple of hours before dawn, Hohenlo; duly
apprised by the boatman, arrived with the vanguard of Maurice's troops
before the field-gate of the fort. A vain attempt was made to force this
portal open, but the winter's ice had fixed it fast. Hohenlo was obliged
to batter down the palisade near the water-gate and enter by the same
road through which the fatal turf-boat had passed.
Soon after he had marched into the town at the head of a strong
detachment, Prince Maurice himself arrived in great haste, attended by
Philip Nassau, the Admiral Justinus Nassau, Count Solms, Peter van der
Does, and Sir Francis Vere, and followed by another body of picked
troops; the musicians playing merrily that national air, then as now so
dear to Netherlanders--
"Wilhelmus van Nassouwen
Ben ick van Duytaem bloed."
The fight was over. Some forty of the garrison had been killed, but not a
man of the attacking party. The burgomaster sent a trumpet to the prince
asking permission to come to the castle to arrange a capitulation; and
before sunrise, the city and fortress of Breda had surrendered to the
authority of the States-General and of his Excellency.
The terms were moderate. The plundering was commuted for the payment of
two months' wages to every soldier engaged in the affair. Burghers who
might prefer to leave the city were allowed to do so with protection to
life, and property. Those who were willing to remain loyal citizens were
not to be molested, in their consciences or their households, in regard
to religion. The public exercise of Catholic rites was however suspended
until the States-General should make some universal provision on this
subject.
Subsequently, it must be allowed, the bargain of commutation proved a bad
one for the burghers. Seventy men had in reality done the whole work, but
so many soldiers, belonging to the detachments who marched in after the
fortress had been taken, came forward to claim their months' wages as to
bring the whole amount required above one hundred thousand florins. The
Spaniards accordingly reproached Prince Maurice with having fined his own
patrimonial city more heavily than Alexander Farnese had mulcted Antwerp,
which had been made to pay but four hundred thousand florins, a far less
sum in proportion to the wealth and importance of the place.
Already the Prince of Parma, in the taking of Breda, saw verified his
predictions of the disasters about to fall on the Spanish interests in
the Netherlands, by reason of Philip's obstinate determination to
concentrate all his energies on the invasion of France. Alexander had
been unable, in the midst of preparations for his French campaign, to
arrest this sudden capture, but his Italian blood was on fire at the
ignominy which had come upon the soldiership of his countrymen. Five
companies of foot and one of horse-picked troops of Spain and Italy--had
surrendered a wealthy, populous town and a well-fortified castle to a
mud-scow, and had fled shrieking in dismay from the onset of seventy
frost-bitten Hollanders.
It was too late to save the town, but he could punish, as it deserved,
the pusillanimity of the garrison.
Three captains--one of them rejoicing in the martial name of Cesar
Guerra--were publicly beheaded in Brussels. A fourth, Ventimiglia, was
degraded but allowed to escape with life, on account of his near
relationship to the Duke of Terranova, while Governor Lanzavecchia was
obliged to resign the command of Gertruydenberg. The great commander knew
better than to encourage the yielding up of cities and fortresses by a
mistaken lenity to their unlucky defenders.
Prince Maurice sent off letters the same night announcing his success to
the States-General. Hohenlo wrote pithily to Olden-Barneveld--"The castle
and town of Breda are ours, without a single man dead on our side. The
garrison made no resistance but ran distracted out of the town."
The church bells rang and bonfires blazed and cannon thundered in every
city in the United Provinces to commemorate this auspicious event.
Olden-Barneveld, too, whose part in arranging the scheme was known to
have been so valuable, received from the States-General a magnificent
gilded vase with sculptured representations of the various scenes in the
drama, and it is probable that not more unmingled satisfaction had been
caused by any one event of the war than by this surprise of Breda.
The capture of a single town, not of first-rate importance either, would
hardly seem too merit so minute a description as has been given in the
preceding pages. But the event, with all its details, has been preserved
with singular vividness in Netherland story. As an example of daring,
patience, and complete success, it has served to encourage the bold
spirits of every generation and will always inspire emulation in
patriotic hearts of every age and clime, while, as the first of a series
of audacious enterprises by which Dutch victories were to take the place
of a long procession of Spanish triumphs on the blood-stained soil of the
provinces, it merits, from its chronological position, a more than
ordinary attention.
In the course of the summer Prince Maurice, carrying out into practice
the lessons which he had so steadily been pondering, reduced the towns
and strong places of Heyl, Flemert, Elshout, Crevecoeur, Hayden,
Steenberg, Rosendaal, and Osterhout. But his time, during the remainder
of the year 1590, was occupied with preparations for a campaign on an
extended scale and with certain foreign negotiations to which it will
soon be necessary to direct the reader's attention.