THE RISE OF THE DUTCH REPUBLIC

By JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY

1855

1572 [CHAPTER VII.]

Municipal revolution throughout Holland and Zealand--Characteristics

of the movement in various places--Sonoy commissioned by Orange as

governor of North Holland--Theory of the provisional government--

Instructions of the Prince to his officers--Oath prescribed--Clause

of toleration--Surprise of Mons by Count Louis--Exertions of Antony

Oliver--Details of the capture--Assembly of the citizens--Speeches

of Genlis and of Count Louis--Effect of the various movements upon

Alva--Don Frederic ordered to invest Mons--The Duke's impatience to

retire--Arrival of Medina Coeli--His narrow escape--Capture of the

Lisbon fleet--Affectation of cordiality between Alva and Medina--

Concessions by King and Viceroy on the subject of the tenth penny--

Estates of Holland assembled, by summons of Orange, at Dort--Appeals

from the Prince to this congress for funds to pay his newly levied

army--Theory of the provisional States' assembly--Source and nature

of its authority--Speech of St. Aldegonde--Liberality of the estates

and the provinces--Pledges exchanged between the Prince's

representative and the Congress--Commission to De la Marck ratified

--Virtual dictatorship of Orange--Limitation of his power by his own

act--Count Louis at Mons--Reinforcements led from France by Genlis--

Rashness of that officer--His total defeat--Orange again in the

field--Rocrmond taken--Excesses of the patriot army--Proclamation of

Orange, commanding respect to all personal and religious rights--His

reply to the Emperor's summons--His progress in the Netherlands--

Hopes entertained from France--Reinforcements under Coligny promised

to Orange by Charles IX.--The Massacre of St. Bartholomew--The

event characterized--Effect in England, in Rome, and in other parts

of Europe--Excessive hilarity of Philip--Extravagant encomium

bestowed by him upon Charles IX.--Order sent by Philip to put all

French prisoners in the Netherlands to Death--Secret correspondence

of Charles IX. with his envoy in the Netherlands--Exultation of the

Spaniards before Mons--Alva urged by the French envoy, according to

his master's commands, to put all the Frenchmen in Mons, and those

already captured, to death--Effect of the massacre upon the Prince

of Orange--Alva and Medina in the camp before Mons--Hopelessness of

the Prince's scheme to obtain battle from Alva--Romero's encamisada

--Narrow escape of the prince--Mutiny and dissolution of his army--

His return to Holland--His steadfastness--Desperate position of

Count Louis in Mons--Sentiments of Alva--Capitulation of Mons--

Courteous reception of Count Louis by the Spanish generals--

Hypocrisy of these demonstrations--Nature of the Mons capitulation--

Horrible violation of its terms--Noircarmes at Mons--Establishment

of a Blood Council in the city--Wholesale executions--Cruelty and

cupidity of Noircarmes--Late discovery of the archives of these

crimes--Return of the revolted cities of Brabant and Flanders to

obedience--Sack of Mechlin by the Spaniards--Details of that event.

The example thus set by Brill and Flushing was rapidly followed. The

first half of the year 1572 was distinguished by a series of triumphs

rendered still more remarkable by the reverses which followed at its

close. Of a sudden, almost as it were by accident, a small but important

sea-port, the object for which the Prince had so long been hoping, was

secured. Instantly afterward, half the island of Walcheren renounced the

yoke of Alva, Next, Enkbuizen, the key to the Zuyder Zee, the principal

arsenal, and one of the first commercial cities in the Netherlands, rose

against the Spanish Admiral, and hung out the banner of Orange on its

ramparts. The revolution effected here was purely the work of the

people--of the mariners and burghers of the city. Moreover, the

magistracy was set aside and the government of Alva repudiated without

shedding one drop of blood, without a single wrong to person or property.

By the same spontaneous movement, nearly all the important cities of

Holland and Zealand raised the standard of him in whom they recognized

their deliverer. The revolution was accomplished under nearly similar

circumstances everywhere. With one fierce bound of enthusiasm the nation

shook off its chain. Oudewater, Dort, Harlem, Leyden, Gorcum,

Loewenstein, Gouda, Medenblik, Horn, Alkmaar, Edam, Monnikendam,

Purmerende, as well as Flushing, Veer, and Enkbuizen, all ranged

themselves under the government of Orange, as lawful stadholder for the

King.

Nor was it in Holland and Zealand alone that the beacon fires of freedom

were lighted. City after city in Gelderland, Overyssel, and the See of

Utrecht; all the important towns of Friesland, some sooner, some later,

some without a struggle, some after a short siege, some with resistance

by the functionaries of government, some by amicable compromise, accepted

the garrisons of the Prince, and formally recognized his authority. Out

of the chaos which a long and preternatural tyranny had produced, the

first struggling elements of a new and a better world began to appear. It

were superfluous to narrate the details which marked the sudden

restoration of liberty in these various groups of cities. Traits of

generosity marked the change of government in some, circumstances of

ferocity, disfigured the revolution in others. The island of Walcheren,

equally divided as it was between the two parties, was the scene of much

truculent and diabolical warfare. It is difficult to say whether the

mutual hatred of race or the animosity of religious difference proved the

deadlier venom. The combats were perpetual and sanguinary, the prisoners

on both sides instantly executed. On more than one occasion; men were

seen assisting to hang with their own hands and in cold blood their own

brothers, who had been taken prisoners in the enemy's ranks. When the

captives were too many to be hanged, they were tied back to back, two and

two, and thus hurled into the sea. The islanders found a fierce pleasure

in these acts of cruelty. A Spaniard had ceased to be human in their

eyes. On one occasion, a surgeon at Veer cut the heart from a Spanish

prisoner, nailed it on a vessel's prow; and invited the townsmen to come

and fasten their teeth in it, which many did with savage satisfaction.

In other parts of the country the revolution was, on the whole,

accomplished with comparative calmness. Even traits of generosity were

not uncommon. The burgomaster of Gonda, long the supple slave of Alva and

the Blood Council, fled for his life as the revolt broke forth in that

city. He took refuge in the house of a certain widow, and begged for a

place of concealment. The widow led him to a secret closet which served

as a pantry. "Shall I be secure there?" asked the fugitive functionary.

"O yes, sir Burgomaster," replied the widow, "'t was in that very place

that my husband lay concealed when you, accompanied by the officers of

justice, were searching the house, that you might bring him to the

scaffold for his religion. Enter the pantry, your worship; I will be

responsible for your safety." Thus faithfully did the humble widow of a

hunted and murdered Calvinist protect the life of the magistrate who had

brought desolation to her hearth.

Not all the conquests thus rapidly achieved in the cause of liberty were

destined to endure, nor were any to be, retained without a struggle. The

little northern cluster of republics which had now restored its honor to

the ancient Batavian name was destined, however, for a long and vigorous

life. From that bleak isthmus the light of freedom was to stream through

many years upon struggling humanity in Europe; a guiding pharos across a

stormy sea; and Harlem, Leyden, Alkmaar--names hallowed by deeds of

heroism such as have not often illustrated human annals, still breathe as

trumpet-tongued and perpetual a defiance to despotism as Marathon,

Thermopylae, or Salamis.

A new board of magistrates had been chosen in all the redeemed cities, by

popular election. They were required to take an oath of fidelity to the

King of Spain, and to the Prince of Orange as his stadholder; to promise

resistance to the Duke of Alva, the tenth penny, and the inquisition; to

support every man's freedom and the welfare of the country; to protect

widows, orphans, and miserable persons, and to maintain justice and

truth.

Diedrich Sonoy arrived on the 2nd June at Enkbuizen. He was provided by

the Prince with a commission, appointing him Lieutenant-Governor of North

Holland or Waterland. Thus, to combat the authority of Alva was set up

the authority of the King. The stadholderate over Holland and Zealand, to

which the Prince had been appointed in 1559, he now reassumed. Upon this

fiction reposed the whole provisional polity of the revolted Netherlands.

The government, as it gradually unfolded itself, from this epoch forward

until the declaration of independence and the absolute renunciation of

the Spanish sovereign power, will be sketched in a future chapter. The

people at first claimed not an iota more of freedom than was secured by

Philip's coronation oath. There was no pretence that Philip was not

sovereign, but there was a pretence and a determination to worship God

according to conscience, and to reclaim the ancient political "liberties"

of the land. So long as Alva reigned, the Blood Council, the inquisition,

and martial law, were the only codes or courts, and every charter slept.

To recover this practical liberty and these historical rights, and to

shake from their shoulders a most sanguinary government, was the purpose

of William and of the people. No revolutionary standard was displayed.

The written instructions given by the Prince to his Lieutenant Sonoy were

to "see that the Word of God was preached, without, however, suffering

any hindrance to the Roman Church in the exercise of its religion; to

restore fugitives and the banished for conscience sake, and to require of

all magistrates and officers of guilds and brotherhoods an oath of

fidelity." The Prince likewise prescribed the form of that oath,

repeating therein, to his eternal honor, the same strict prohibition of

intolerance. "Likewise," said the formula, "shall those of 'the religion'

offer no let or hindrance to the Roman churches."

The Prince was still in Germany, engaged in raising troops and providing

funds. He directed; however, the affairs of the insurgent provinces in

their minutest details, by virtue of the dictatorship inevitably forced

upon him both by circumstances and by the people. In the meantime; Louis

of Nassau, the Bayard of the Netherlands, performed a most unexpected and

brilliant exploit. He had been long in France, negotiating with the

leaders of the Huguenots, and, more secretly, with the court. He was

supposed by all the world to be still in that kingdom, when the startling

intelligence arrived that he had surprised and captured the important

city of Mons. This town, the capital of Hainault, situate in a fertile,

undulating, and beautiful country, protected by lofty walls, a triple

moat, and a strong citadel, was one of the most flourishing and elegant

places in the Netherlands. It was, moreover, from its vicinity to the

frontiers of France; a most important acquisition to the insurgent party.

The capture was thus accomplished. A native of Mons, one Antony Oliver, a

geographical painter, had insinuated himself into the confidence of Alva,

for whom he had prepared at different times some remarkably well-executed

maps of the country. Having occasion to visit France, he was employed by

the Duke to keep a watch upon the movements of Louis of Nassau, and to

make a report as to the progress of his intrigues with the court of

France. The painter, however, was only a spy in disguise, being in

reality devoted to the cause of freedom, and a correspondent of Orange

and his family. His communications with Louis, in Paris, had therefore a

far different result from the one anticipated by Alva. A large number of

adherents within the city of Mons had already been secured, and a plan

was now arranged between Count Louis, Genlis, De la Noue, and other

distinguished Huguenot chiefs, to be carried out with the assistance of

the brave and energetic artist.

On the 23rd of May, Oliver appeared at the gates of Mons, accompanied by

three wagons, ostensibly containing merchandise, but in reality laden

with arquebusses. These were secretly distributed among his confederates

in the city. In the course of the day Count Louis arrived in the

neighbourhood, accompanied by five hundred horsemen and a thousand foot

soldiers. This force he stationed in close concealment within the thick

forests between Maubeuge and Mons. Towards evening he sent twelve of the

most trusty and daring of his followers, disguised as wine merchants,

into the city. These individuals proceeded boldly to a public house,

ordered their supper, and while conversing with the landlord, carelessly

inquired at what hour next morning the city gates would be opened. They

were informed that the usual hour was four in the morning, but that a

trifling present to the porter would ensure admission, if they desired

it, at an earlier hour. They explained their inquiries by a statement

that they had some casks of wine which they wished to introduce into the

city before sunrise. Having obtained all the information which they

needed, they soon afterwards left the tavern. The next day they presented

themselves very early at the gate, which the porter, on promise of a

handsome "drink-penny," agreed to unlock. No sooner were the bolts

withdrawn, however, than he was struck dead, while about fifty dragoons

rode through the gate. The Count and his followers now galloped over the

city in the morning twilight, shouting "France! liberty! the town is

ours!" "The Prince is coming!" "Down with the tenth penny; down with the

murderous Alva!" So soon as a burgher showed his wondering face at the

window, they shot at him with their carbines. They made as much noise,

and conducted themselves as boldly as if they had been at least a

thousand strong.

Meantime, however, the streets remained empty; not one of their secret

confederates showing himself. Fifty men could surprise, but were too few

to keep possession of the city. The Count began to suspect a trap. As

daylight approached the alarm spread; the position of the little band was

critical. In his impetuosity, Louis had far outstripped his army, but

they had been directed to follow hard upon his footsteps, and he was

astonished that their arrival was so long delayed. The suspense becoming

intolerable, he rode out of the city in quest of his adherents, and found

them wandering in the woods, where they had completely lost their way.

Ordering each horseman to take a foot soldier on the crupper behind him,

he led them rapidly back to Mons. On the way they were encountered by La

Noue, "with the iron arm," and Genlis, who, meantime, had made an

unsuccessful attack to recover Valenciennes, which within a few hours had

been won and lost again. As they reached the gates of Mons, they found

themselves within a hair's breadth of being too late; their adherents had

not come forth; the citizens had been aroused; the gates were all fast

but one--and there the porter was quarrelling with a French soldier about

an arquebuss. The drawbridge across the moat was at the moment rising;

the last entrance was closing, when Guitoy de Chaumont, a French officer,

mounted on a light Spanish barb, sprang upon the bridge as it rose. His

weight caused it to sink again, the gate was forced, and Louis with all

his men rode triumphantly into the town.

The citizens were forthwith assembled by sound of bell in the

market-place. The clergy, the magistracy, and the general council were

all present. Genlis made the first speech, in which he disclaimed all

intention of making conquests in the interest of France. This pledge

having been given, Louis of Nassau next addressed the assembly: "The

magistrates," said he, "have not understoood my intentions. I protest

that I am no rebel to the King; I prove it by asking no new oaths from

any man. Remain bound by your old oaths of allegiance; let the

magistrates continue to exercise their functions--to administer justice.

I imagine that no person will suspect a brother of the Prince of Orange

capable of any design against the liberties of the country. As to the

Catholic religion, I take it under my very particular protection. You

will ask why I am in Mons at the head of an armed force: are any of you

ignorant of Alva's cruelties? The overthrow of this tyrant is as much the

interest of the King as of the people, therefore there is nothing in my

present conduct inconsistent with fidelity to his Majesty. Against Alva

alone I have taken up arms; 'tis to protect you against his fury that I

am here. It is to prevent the continuance of a general rebellion that I

make war upon him. The only proposition which I have to make to you is

this--I demand that you declare Alva de Toledo a traitor to the King, the

executioner of the people, an enemy to the country, unworthy of the

government, and hereby deprived of his authority."

The magistracy did not dare to accept so bold a proposition; the general

council, composing the more popular branch of the municipal government,

were comparatively inclined to favor Nassau, and many of its members

voted for the downfall of the tyrant. Nevertheless the demands of Count

Louis were rejected. His position thus became critical. The civic

authorities refused to, pay for his troops, who were, moreover, too few,

in number to resist the inevitable siege. The patriotism of the citizens

was not to be repressed, however, by the authority, of the magistrates;

many rich proprietors of the great cloth and silk manufactories, for

which Mons was famous, raised, and armed companies at their own expense;

many volunteer troops were also speedily organized and drilled, and the

fortifications were put in order. No attempt was made to force the

reformed religion upon the inhabitants, and even Catholics who were

discovered in secret correspondence with the enemy were treated with such

extreme gentleness by Nassau as to bring upon him severe reproaches from

many of his own party.

A large collection of ecclesiastical plate, jewellery, money, and other

valuables, which had been sent to the city for safe keeping from the

churches and convents of the provinces, was seized, and thus, with little

bloodshed and no violence; was the important city secured for the

insurgents. Three days afterwards, two thousand infantry, chiefly French,

arrived in the place. In the early part of the following month Louis was

still further strengthened by the arrival of thirteen hundred foot and

twelve hundred horsemen, under command of Count Montgomery, the

celebrated officer, whose spear at the tournament had proved fatal to

Henry the Second. Thus the Duke of Alva suddenly found himself exposed to

a tempest of revolution. One thunderbolt after another seemed descending

around him in breathless succession. Brill and Flushing had been already

lost; Middelburg was so closely invested that its fall seemed imminent,

and with it would go the whole island of Walcheren, the key to all the

Netherlands. In one morning he had heard of the revolt of Enkbuizen and

of the whole Waterland; two hours later came the news of the Valenciennes

rebellion, and next day the astonishing capture of Mons. One disaster

followed hard upon another. He could have sworn that the detested Louis

of Nassau, who had dealt this last and most fatal stroke, was at that

moment in Paris, safely watched by government emissaries; and now he had,

as it were, suddenly started out of the earth, to deprive him of this

important city, and to lay bare the whole frontier to the treacherous

attacks of faithless France. He refused to believe the intelligence when

it was first announced to him, and swore that he had certain information

that Count Louis had been seen playing in the tennis-court at Paris,

within so short a period as to make his presence in Hainault at that

moment impossible. Forced, at last, to admit the truth of the disastrous

news, he dashed his hat upon the ground in a fury, uttering imprecations

upon the Queen Dowager of France, to whose perfidious intrigues he

ascribed the success of the enterprise, and pledging himself to send her

Spanish thistles, enough in return for the Florentine lilies which she

had thus bestowed upon him.

In the midst of the perplexities thus thickening around him, the Duke

preserved his courage, if not his temper. Blinded, for a brief season, by

the rapid attacks made upon him, he had been uncertain whither to direct

his vengeance. This last blow in so vital a quarter determined him at

once. He forthwith despatched Don Frederic to undertake the siege of

Mons, and earnestly set about raising large reinforcements to his army.

Don Frederic took possession, without much opposition, of the Bethlehem

cloister in the immediate vicinity of the city, and with four thousand

troops began the investment in due form.

Alva had, for a long time, been most impatient to retire from the

provinces. Even he was capable of human emotions. Through the sevenfold

panoply of his pride he had been pierced by the sharpness of a nation's

curse. He was wearied with the unceasing execrations which assailed his

ears. "The hatred which the people bear me," said he, in a letter to

Philip, "because of the chastisement which it has been necessary for me

to inflict, although with all the moderation in the world, make all my

efforts vain. A successor will meet more sympathy and prove more useful."

On the 10th June, the Duke of Medina Coeli; with a fleet of more than

forty sail, arrived off Blankenburg, intending to enter the Scheld.

Julian Romero, with two thousand Spaniards, was also on board the fleet.

Nothing, of course, was known to the new comers of the altered condition

of affairs in the Netherlands, nor of the unwelcome reception which they

were like to meet in Flushing. A few of the lighter craft having been

taken by the patriot cruisers, the alarm was spread through all the

fleet. Medina Coeli, with a few transports, was enabled to effect his

escape to Sluys, whence he hastened to Brussels in a much less

ceremonious manner than he had originally contemplated. Twelve Biscayan

ships stood out to sea, descried a large Lisbon fleet, by a singular

coincidence, suddenly heaving in sight, changed their course again, and

with a favoring breeze bore boldly up the Hond; passed Flushing in spite

of a severe cannonade from the forts, and eventually made good their

entrance into Rammekens, whence the soldiery, about one-half of whom had

thus been saved, were transferred at a very critical moment to

Middelburg.

The great Lisbon fleet followed in the wake of the Biscayans, with much

inferior success. Totally ignorant of the revolution which had occurred

in the Ise of Walclieren, it obeyed the summons of the rebel fort to come

to anchor, and, with the exception of three or four, the vessels were all

taken. It was the richest booty which the insurgents had yet acquired by

sea or land. The fleet was laden with spices, money, jewellery, and the

richest merchandize. Five hundred thousand crowns of gold were taken, and

it was calculated that the plunder altogether would suffice to maintain

the war for two years at least. One thousand Spanish soldiers, and a good

amount of ammunition, were also captured. The unexpected condition of

affairs made a pause natural and almost necessary, before the government

could be decorously transferred. Medina Coeli with Spanish

grandiloquence, avowed his willingness to serve as a soldier, under a

general whom he so much venerated, while Alva ordered that, in all

respects, the same outward marks of respect should be paid to his

appointed successor as to himself. Beneath all this external ceremony,

however, much mutual malice was concealed.

Meantime, the Duke, who was literally "without a single real," was forced

at last to smother his pride in the matter of the tenth penny. On the

24th June, he summoned the estates of Holland to assemble on the 15th of

the ensuing month. In the missive issued for this purpose, he formally

agreed to abolish the whole tax, on condition that the estates-general of

the Netherlands would furnish him with a yearly supply of two millions of

florins. Almost at the same moment the King had dismissed the deputies of

the estates from Madrid, with the public assurance that the tax was to be

suspended, and a private intimation that it was not abolished in terms,

only in order to save the dignity of the Duke.

These healing measures came entirely too late. The estates of Holland

met, indeed, on the appointed day of July; but they assembled not in

obedience to Alva, but in consequence of a summons from William of

Orange. They met, too, not at the Hague, but at Dort, to take formal

measures for renouncing the authority of the Duke. The first congress of

the Netherland commonwealth still professed loyalty to the Crown, but was

determined to accept the policy of Orange without a question.

The Prince had again assembled an army in Germany, consisting of fifteen

thousand foot and seven thousand horse, besides a number of

Netherlanders, mostly Walloons, amounting to nearly three thousand more.

Before taking the field, however, it was necessary that he should

guarantee at least three months' pay to his troops. This he could no

longer do, except by giving bonds endorsed by certain cities of Holland

as his securities. He had accordingly addressed letters in his own name

to all the principal cities, fervently adjuring them to remember, at

last, what was due to him, to the fatherland, and to their own character.

"Let not a sum of gold," said he in one of these letters, "be so dear to

you, that for its sake you will sacrifice your lives, your wives, your

children, and all your descendants, to the latest generations; that you

will bring sin and shame upon yourselves, and destruction upon us who

have so heartily striven to assist you. Think what scorn you will incur

from foreign nations, what a crime you will commit against the Lord God,

what a bloody yoke ye will impose forever upon yourselves and your

children, if you now seek for subterfuges; if you now prevent us from

taking the field with the troops which we have enlisted. On the other

hand, what inexpressible benefits you will confer on your country, if you

now help us to rescue that fatherland from the power of Spanish vultures

and wolves."

This and similar missives, circulated throughout the province of Holland,

produced a deep impression. In accordance with his suggestions, the

deputies from the nobility and from twelve cities of that province

assembled on the 15th July, at Dort. Strictly speaking, the estates or

government of Holland, the body which represented the whole people,

consisted of the nobler and six great cities. On this occasion, however,

Amsterdam being still in the power of the King, could send no deputies,

while, on the other hand, all the small towns were invited to send up

their representatives to the Congress. Eight accepted the proposal; the

rest declined to appoint delegates, partly from motives of economy,

partly from timidity.'

These estates were the legitimate representatives of the people, but they

had no legislative powers. The people had never pretended to sovereignty,

nor did they claim it now. The source from which the government of the

Netherlands was supposed to proceed was still the divine mandate. Even

now the estates silently conceded, as they had ever done, the supreme

legislative and executive functions to the land's master. Upon Philip of

Spain, as representative of Count Dirk the First of Holland, had

descended, through many tortuous channels, the divine effluence

originally supplied by Charles the Simple of France. That supernatural

power was not contested, but it was now ingeniously turned against the

sovereign. The King's authority was invoked against himself in the person

of the Prince of Orange, to whom, thirteen years before, a portion of

that divine right had been delegated. The estates of Holland met at Dort

on the 15th July, as representatives of the people; but they were

summoned by Orange, royally commissioned in 1559 as stadholder, and

therefore the supreme legislative and executive officer of certain

provinces. This was the theory of the provisional government. The Prince

represented the royal authority, the nobles represented both themselves

and the people of the open country, while the twelve cities represented

the whole body of burghers. Together, they were supposed to embody all

authority, both divine and human, which a congress could exercise. Thus

the whole movement was directed against Alva and against Count Bossu,

appointed stadholder by Alva in the place of Orange. Philip's name was

destined to figure for a long time, at the head of documents by which

monies were raised, troops levied, and taxes collected, all to be used in

deadly war against himself.

The estates were convened on the 15th July, when Paul Buys, pensionary of

Leyden, the tried and confidential friend of Orange, was elected Advocate

of Holland. The convention was then adjourned till the 18th, when Saint

Aldegonde made his appearance, with full powers to act provisionally in

behalf of his Highness.

The distinguished plenipotentiary delivered before the congress a long

and very effective harangue. He recalled the sacrifices and efforts of

the Prince during previous years. He adverted to the disastrous campaign

of 1568, in which the Prince had appeared full of high hope, at the head

of a gallant army, but had been obliged, after a short period, to retire,

because not a city had opened its gates nor a Netherlander lifted his

finger in the cause. Nevertheless, he had not lost courage nor closed his

heart; and now that, through the blessing of God, the eyes of men had

been opened, and so many cities had declared against the tyrant, the

Prince had found himself exposed to a bitter struggle. Although his own

fortunes had been ruined in the cause, he had been unable to resist the

daily flood of petitions which called upon him to come forward once more.

He had again importuned his relations and powerful friends; he had at

last set on foot a new and well-appointed army. The day of payment had

arrived. Over his own head impended perpetual shame, over the fatherland

perpetual woe, if the congress should now refuse the necessary supplies.

"Arouse ye, then," cried the orator, with fervor, "awaken your own zeal

and that of your sister cities. Seize Opportunity by the locks, who never

appeared fairer than she does to-day."

The impassioned eloquence of St. Aldegonde produced a profound

impression. The men who had obstinately refused the demands of Alva, now

unanimously resolved to pour forth their gold and their blood at the call

of Orange. "Truly," wrote the Duke, a little later, "it almost drives me

mad to see the difficulty with which your Majesty's supplies are

furnished, and the liberality with which the people place their lives and

fortunes at the disposal of this rebel." It seemed strange to the loyal

governor that men should support their liberator with greater alacrity

than that with which they served their destroyer! It was resolved that

the requisite amount should be at once raised, partly from the regular

imposts and current "requests," partly by loans from the rich, from the

clergy, from the guilds and brotherhoods, partly from superfluous church

ornaments and other costly luxuries. It was directed that subscriptions

should be immediately opened throughout the land, that gold and silver

plate, furniture, jewellery, and other expensive articles should be

received by voluntary contributions, for which inventories and receipts

should be given by the magistrates of each city, and that upon these

money should be raised, either by loan or sale. An enthusiastic and

liberal spirit prevailed. All seemed determined rather than pay the tenth

to Alva to pay the whole to the Prince.

The estates, furthermore, by unanimous resolution, declared that they

recognized the Prince as the King's lawful stadholder over Holland,

Zealand, Friesland, and Utrecht, and that they would use their influence

with the other provinces to procure his appointment as Protector of all

the Netherlands during the King's absence. His Highness was requested to

appoint an Admiral, on whom, with certain deputies from the Water-cities,

the conduct of the maritime war should devolve.

The conduct of the military operations by land was to be directed by

Dort, Leyden, and Enkbuizen, in conjunction with the Count de la Marck. A

pledge was likewise exchanged between the estates and the

pleni-potentiary, that neither party should enter into any treaty with

the King, except by full consent and co-operation of the other. With

regard to religion, it was firmly established, that the public exercises

of divine worship should be permitted not only to the Reformed Church,

but to the Roman Catholic--the clergy of both being protected from all

molestation.

After these proceedings, Count de la Marck made his appearance before the

assembly. His commission from Orange was read to the deputies, and by

them ratified. The Prince, in that document, authorized "his dear cousin"

to enlist troops, to accept the fealty of cities, to furnish them with

garrisons, to re-establish all the local laws, municipal rights, and

ancient privileges which had been suppressed. He was to maintain freedom

of religion, under penalty of death to those who infringed it; he was to

restore all confiscated property; he was, with advice of his council, to

continue in office such city magistrates as were favorable, and to remove

those adverse to the cause.

The Prince was, in reality, clothed with dictatorial and even regal

powers. This authority had been forced upon him by the prayers of the

people, but he manifested no eagerness as he partly accepted the onerous

station. He was provisionally the depositary of the whole sovereignty of

the northern provinces, but he cared much less for theories of government

than for ways and means. It was his object to release the country from

the tyrant who, five years long, had been burning and butchering the

people. It was his determination to drive out the foreign soldiery. To do

this, he must meet his enemy in the field. So little was he disposed to

strengthen his own individual power, that he voluntarily imposed limits

on himself, by an act, supplemental to the proceedings of the Congress of

Dort. In this important ordinance made by the Prince of Orange, as a

provisional form of government, he publicly announced "that he would do

and ordain nothing except by the advice of the estates, by reason that

they were best acquainted with the circumstances and the humours of the

inhabitants." He directed the estates to appoint receivers for all public

taxes, and ordained that all military officers should make oath of

fidelity to him, as stadholder, and to the estates of Holland, to be true

and obedient, in order to liberate the land from the Albanian and Spanish

tyranny, for the service of his royal Majesty as Count of Holland. The

provisional constitution, thus made by a sovereign prince and actual

dictator, was certainly as disinterested as it was sagacious.

Meanwhile the war had opened vigorously in Hainault. Louis of Nassau had

no sooner found himself in possession of Mons than he had despatched

Genlis to France, for those reinforcements which had been promised by

royal lips. On the other hand, Don Frederic held the city closely

beleaguered; sharp combats before the walls were of almost daily

occurrence, but it was obvious that Louis would be unable to maintain the

position into which he had so chivalrously thrown himself unless he

should soon receive important succor. The necessary reinforcements were

soon upon the way. Genlis had made good speed with his levy, and it was

soon announced that he was advancing into Hainault, with a force of

Huguenots, whose numbers report magnified to ten thousand veterans. Louis

despatched an earnest message to his confederate, to use extreme caution

in his approach. Above all things, he urged him, before attempting to

throw reinforcements into the city, to effect a junction with the Prince

of Orange, who had already crossed the Rhine with his new army.

Genlis, full of overweening confidence, and desirous of acquiring singly

the whole glory of relieving the city, disregarded this advice. His

rashness proved his ruin, and the temporary prostration of the cause of

freedom. Pushing rapidly forward across the French frontier, he arrived,

towards the middle of July, within two leagues of Mons. The Spaniards

were aware of his approach, and well prepared to frustrate his project.

On the 19th, he found himself upon a circular plain of about a league's

extent, surrounded with coppices and forests, and dotted with farm-houses

and kitchen gardens. Here he paused to send out a reconnoitring party.

The little detachment was, however, soon driven in, with the information

that Don Frederic of Toledo, with ten thousand men, was coming instantly

upon them. The Spanish force, in reality, numbered four thousand

infantry, and fifteen hundred cavalry; but three thousand half-armed

boors had been engaged by Don Frederic, to swell his apparent force. The

demonstration produced its effect, and no sooner had the first panic of

the intelligence been spread, than Noircarmes came charging upon them at

the head of his cavalry. The infantry arrived directly afterwards, and

the Huguenots were routed almost as soon as seen. It was a meeting rather

than a battle. The slaughter of the French was very great, while but an

insignificant number of the Spaniards fell. Chiappin Vitelli was the hero

of the day. It was to his masterly arrangements before the combat, and to

his animated exertions upon the field, that the victory was owing. Having

been severely wounded in the thigh but a few days previously, he caused

himself to be carried upon a litter in a recumbent position in front of

his troops, and was everywhere seen, encouraging their exertions, and

exposing himself, crippled as he was, to the whole brunt of the battle.

To him the victory nearly proved fatal; to Don Frederic it brought

increased renown. Vitelli's exertions, in his precarious condition,

brought on severe inflammation, under which he nearly succumbed, while

the son of Alva reaped extensive fame from the total overthrow of the

veteran Huguenots, due rather to his lieutenant and to Julian Romero.

The number of dead left by the French upon the plain amounted to at least

twelve hundred, but a much larger number was butchered in detail by the

peasantry, among whom they attempted to take refuge, and who had not yet

forgotten the barbarities inflicted by their countrymen in the previous

war. Many officers were taken prisoners, among whom was the

Commander-in-chief, Genlis.

That unfortunate gentleman was destined to atone for his rashness and

obstinacy with his life. He was carried to the castle of Antwerp, where,

sixteen months afterwards, he was secretly strangled by command of Alva,

who caused the report to be circulated that he had died a natural death.

About one hundred foot soldiers succeeded in making their entrance into

Mona, and this was all the succor which Count Louis was destined to

receive from France, upon which country he had built such lofty and such

reasonable hopes.

While this unfortunate event was occurring, the Prince had already put

his army in motion. On the 7th of July he had crossed the Rhine at

Duisburg, with fourteen thousand foot, seven thousand horse, enlisted in

Germany, besides a force of three thousand Walloons. On the 23rd of July,

he took the city of Roermond, after a sharp cannonade, at which place his

troops already began to disgrace the honorable cause in which they were

engaged, by imitating the cruelties and barbarities of their antagonists.

The persons and property of the burghers were, with a very few

exceptions, respected; but many priests and monks were put to death by

the soldiery under circumstances of great barbarity. The Prince, incensed

at such conduct, but being unable to exercise very stringent authority

over troops whose wages he was not yet able to pay in full, issued a

proclamation, denouncing such excesses, and commanding his followers,

upon pain of death, to respect the rights of all individuals, whether

Papist or Protestant, and to protect religious exercises both in Catholic

and Reformed churches.

It was hardly to be expected that the troops enlisted by the Prince in

the same great magazine of hireling soldiers, Germany, from whence the

Duke also derived his annual supplies, would be likely to differ very

much in their propensities from those enrolled under Spanish banners; yet

there was a vast contrast between the characters of the two commanders.

One leader inculcated the practice of robbery, rape, and murder, as a

duty, and issued distinct orders to butcher every mother's son in the

cities which he captured; the other restrained every excess to, the

utmost of his ability, protecting not only life and property, but even

the ancient religion.

The Emperor Maximilian had again issued his injunctions against the

military operations of Orange. Bound to the monarch of Spain by so many

family ties, being at once cousin, brother-in-law, and father-in-law of

Philip, it was difficult for him to maintain the attitude which became

him, as chief of that Empire to which the peace of Passau had assured

religious freedom. It had, however, been sufficiently proved that

remonstrances and intercessions addressed to Philip were but idle breath.

It had therefore become an insult to require pacific conduct from the

Prince on the ground of any past or future mediation. It was a still

grosser mockery to call upon him to discontinue hostilities because the

Netherlands were included in the Empire, and therefore protected by the

treaties of Passau and Augsburg. Well did the Prince reply to his

Imperial Majesty's summons in a temperate but cogent letter, in which he

addressed to him from his camp, that all intercessions had proved

fruitless, and that the only help for the Netherlands was the sword.

The Prince had been delayed for a month at Roermonde, because, as he

expressed it; "he had not a single sou," and because, in consequence, the

troops refused to advance into the Netherlands. Having at last been

furnished with the requisite guarantees from the Holland cities for three

months' pay, on the 27th of August, the day of the publication of his

letter to the Emperor, he crossed the Meuse and took his circuitous way

through Diest, Tirlemont, Sichem, Louvain, Mechlin, Termonde, Oudenarde,

Nivelles. Many cities and villages accepted his authority and admitted

his garrisons. Of these Mechlin was the most considerable, in which he

stationed a detachment of his troops. Its doom was sealed in that moment.

Alva could not forgive this act of patriotism on the part of a town which

had so recently excluded his own troops. "This is a direct permission of

God," he wrote, in the spirit of dire and revengeful prophecy, "for us to

punish her as she deserves, for the image-breaking and other misdeeds

done there in the time of Madame de Parma, which our Lord was not willing

to pass over without chastisement."

Meantime the Prince continued his advance. Louvain purchased its

neutrality for the time with sixteen thousand ducats; Brussels

obstinately refused to listen to him, and was too powerful to be forcibly

attacked at that juncture; other important cities, convinced by the

arguments and won by the eloquence of the various proclamations which he

scattered as he advanced, ranged themselves spontaneously and even

enthusiastically upon his side. How different world have been the result

of his campaign but for the unexpected earthquake which at that instant

was to appal Christendom, and to scatter all his well-matured plans and

legitimate hopes. His chief reliance, under Providence and his own strong

heart, had been upon French assistance. Although Genlis, by his

misconduct, had sacrificed his army and himself, yet the Prince as still

justly sanguine as to the policy of the French court. The papers which

had been found in the possession of Genlis by his conquerors all spoke

one language. "You would be struck with stupor," wrote Alva's secretary,

"could you see a letter which is now in my power, addressed by the King

of France to Louis of Nassau." In that letter the King had declared his

determination to employ all the forces which God had placed in his hands

to rescue the Netherlands from the oppression under which they were

groaning. In accordance with the whole spirit and language of the French

government, was the tone of Coligny in his correspondence with Orange.

The Admiral assured the Prince that there was no doubt as to the

earnestness of the royal intentions in behalf of the Netherlands, and

recommending extreme caution, announced his hope within a few days to

effect a junction with him at the head of twelve thousand French

arquebusiers, and at least three thousand cavalry. Well might the Prince

of Orange, strong, and soon to be strengthened, boast that the

Netherlands were free, and that Alva was in his power. He had a right to

be sanguine, for nothing less than a miracle could now destroy his

generous hopes--and, alas! the miracle took place; a miracle of perfidy

and bloodshed such as the world, familiar as it had ever been and was

still to be with massacre, had not yet witnessed. On the 11th of August,

Coligny had written thus hopefully of his movements towards the

Netherlands, sanctioned and aided by his King. A fortnight from that day

occurred the "Paris-wedding;" and the Admiral, with thousands of his

religious confederates, invited to confidence by superhuman treachery,

and lulled into security by the music of august marriage bells, was

suddenly butchered in the streets of Paris by royal and noble hands.

The Prince proceeded on his march, during which the heavy news had been

brought to him, but he felt convinced that, with the very arrival of the

awful tidings, the fate of that campaign was sealed, and the fall of Mons

inevitable. In his own language, he had been struck to the earth "with

the blow of a sledge-hammer,"--nor did the enemy draw a different augury

from the great event.

The crime was not committed with the connivance of the Spanish

government. On the contrary, the two courts were at the moment bitterly

hostile to each other. In the beginning of the summer, Charles IX. and

his advisers were as false to Philip, as at the end of it they were

treacherous to Coligny and Orange. The massacre of the Huguenots had not

even the merit of being a well-contrived and intelligently executed

scheme. We have seen how steadily, seven years before, Catharine de

Medici had rejected the advances of Alva towards the arrangement of a

general plan for the extermination of all heretics within France and the

Netherlands at the same moment. We have seen the disgust with which Alva

turned from the wretched young King at Bayonne, when he expressed the

opinion that to take arms against his own subjects was wholly out of the

question, and could only be followed by general ruin. "'Tis easy to see

that he has been tutored," wrote Alva to his master. Unfortunately, the

same mother; who had then instilled those lessons of hypocritical

benevolence, had now wrought upon her son's cowardly but ferocious nature

with a far different intent. The incomplete assassination of Coligny, the

dread of signal vengeance at the hands of the Huguenots, the necessity of

taking the lead in the internecine snuggle; were employed with Medicean

art, and with entire success. The King was lashed into a frenzy. Starting

to his feet, with a howl of rage and terror, "I agree to the scheme," he

cried, "provided not one Huguenot be left alive in France to reproach me

with the deed."

That night the slaughter commenced. The long premeditated crime was

executed in a panic, but the work was thoroughly done. The King, who a

few days before had written with his own hand to Louis of Nassau,

expressing his firm determination to sustain the Protestant cause both in

France and the Netherlands, who had employed the counsels of Coligny in

the arrangement, of his plans, and who had sent French troops, under

Genlis and La None, to assist their Calvinist brethren in Flanders, now

gave the signal for the general massacre of the Protestants, and with his

own hands, from his own palace windows, shot his subjects with his

arquebuss as if they had been wild beasts.

Between Sunday and Tuesday, according to one of the most moderate

calculations, five thousand Parisians of all ranks were murdered. Within

the whole kingdom, the number of victims was variously estimated at from

twenty-five thousand to one hundred thousand. The heart of Protestant

Europe, for an instant, stood still with horror. The Queen of England put

on mourning weeds, and spurned the apologies of the French envoy with

contempt. At Rome, on the contrary, the news of the massacre created a

joy beyond description. The Pope, accompanied by his cardinals, went

solemnly to the church of Saint Mark to render thanks to God for the

grace thus singularly vouchsafed to the Holy See and to all Christendom;

and a Te Deum was performed in presence of the same august assemblage.

But nothing could exceed the satisfaction which the event occasioned in

the mind of Philip the Second. There was an end now of all assistance

from the French government to the Netherland Protestants. "The news of

the events upon Saint Bartholomew's day," wrote the French envoy at

Madrid, Saint Goard, to Charles IX., "arrived on the 7th September. The

King, on receiving the intelligence, showed, contrary to his natural

custom, so much gaiety, that he seemed more delighted than with all the

good fortune or happy incidents which had ever before occurred to him. He

called all his familiars about him in order to assure them that your

Majesty was his good brother, and that no one else deserved the title of

Most Christian. He sent his secretary Cayas to me with his felicitations

upon the event, and with the information that he was just going to Saint

Jerome to render thanks to God, and to offer his prayers that your

Majesty might receive Divine support in this great affair. I went to see

him next morning, and as soon as I came into his presence he began to

laugh, and with demonstrations of extreme contentment, to praise your

Majesty as deserving your title of Most Christian, telling me there was

no King worthy to be your Majesty's companion, either for valor or

prudence. He praised the steadfast resolution and the long dissimulation

of so great an enterprise, which all the world would not be able to

comprehend."

"I thanked him," continued the embassador, "and I said that I thanked God

for enabling your Majesty to prove to his Master that his apprentice had

learned his trade, and deserved his title of most Christian King. I

added, that he ought to confess that he owed the preservation of the

Netherlands to your Majesty."

Nothing certainly could, in Philip's apprehension, be more delightful

than this most unexpected and most opportune intelligence. Charles IX.,

whose intrigues in the Netherlands he had long known, had now been

suddenly converted by this stupendous crime into his most powerful ally,

while at the same time the Protestants of Europe would learn that there

was still another crowned head in Christendom more deserving of

abhorrence than himself. He wrote immediately to Alva, expressing his

satisfaction that the King of France had disembarrassed himself of such

pernicious men, because he would now be obliged to cultivate the

friendship of Spain, neither the English Queen nor the German Protestants

being thenceforth capable of trusting him. He informed the Duke,

moreover, that the French envoy, Saint Goard, had been urging him to

command the immediate execution of Genlis and his companions, who had

been made prisoners, as well as all the Frenchmen who would be captured

in Mons; and that he fully concurred in the propriety of the measure.

"The sooner," said Philip, "these noxious plants are extirpated from the

earth, the less fear there is that a fresh crop will spring up." The

monarch therefore added, with his own hand, to the letter, "I desire that

if you have not already disembarrassed the world of them, you will do it

immediately, and inform me thereof, for I see no reason why it should be

deferred."

This is the demoniacal picture painted by the French ambassador, and by

Philip's own hand, of the Spanish monarch's joy that his "Most Christian"

brother had just murdered twenty-five thousand of his own subjects. In

this cold-blooded way, too, did his Catholic Majesty order the execution

of some thousand Huguenots additionally, in order more fully to carry out

his royal brother's plans; yet Philip could write of himself, "that all

the world recognized the gentleness of his nature and the mildness of his

intentions."

In truth, the advice thus given by Saint Goard on the subject of the

French prisoners in Alva's possessions, was a natural result of the Saint

Bartholomew. Here were officers and soldiers whom Charles IX. had himself

sent into the Netherlands to fight for the Protestant cause against

Philip and Alva. Already, the papers found upon them had placed him in

some embarrassment, and exposed his duplicity to the Spanish government,

before the great massacre had made such signal reparation for his

delinquency. He had ordered Mondoucet, his envoy in the Netherlands, to

use dissimulation to an unstinted amount, to continue his intrigues with

the Protestants, and to deny stoutly all proofs of such connivance. "I

see that the papers found upon Genlis;" he wrote twelve days before the

massacre, "have been put into the hands of Assonleville, and that they

know everything done by Genlis to have been committed with my consent."

[These remarkable letters exchanged between Charles IX. and

Mondoucet have recently been published by M. Emile Gachet (chef du

bureau paleographique aux Archives de Belgique) from a manuscript

discovered by him in the library at Rheims.--Compte Rendu de la Com.

Roy. d'Hist., iv. 340, sqq.]

"Nevertheless, you will tell the Duke of Alva that these are lies

invented to excite suspicion against me. You will also give him

occasional information of the enemy's affairs, in order to make him

believe in your integrity. Even if he does not believe you, my purpose

will be answered, provided you do it dexterously. At the same time you

must keep up a constant communication with the Prince of Orange, taking

great care to prevent discovery of your intelligence with King."

Were not these masterstrokes of diplomacy worthy of a King whom his

mother, from boyhood upwards, had caused to study Macchiavelli's

"Prince," and who had thoroughly taken to heart the maxim, often repeated

in those days, that the "Science of reigning was the science of lying"?

The joy in the Spanish camp before Mons was unbounded. It was as if the

only bulwark between the Netherland rebels and total destruction had been

suddenly withdrawn. With anthems in Saint Gudule, with bonfires, festive

illuminations, roaring artillery, with trumpets also, and with shawms,

was the glorious holiday celebrated in court and camp, in honor of the

vast murder committed by the Most Christian King upon his Christian

subjects; nor was a moment lost in apprising the Huguenot soldiers shut

up with Louis of Nassau in the beleaguered city of the great catastrophe

which was to render all their valor fruitless. "'T was a punishment,"

said a Spanish soldier, who fought most courageously before Mons, and who

elaborately described the siege afterwards, "well worthy of a king whose

title is 'The Most Christian,' and it was still more honorable to inflict

it with his own hands as he did." Nor was the observation a pithy

sarcasm, but a frank expression of opinion, from a man celebrated alike

for the skill with which he handled both his sword and his pen.

The French envoy in the Netherlands was, of course, immediately informed

by his sovereign of the great event: Charles IX. gave a very pithy

account of the transaction. "To prevent the success of the enterprise

planned by the Admiral," wrote the King on the 26th of August, with hands

yet reeking, and while the havoc throughout France was at its height, "I

have been obliged to permit the said Guises to rush upon the said

Admiral,--which they have done, the said Admiral having been killed and

all his adherents. A very great number of those belonging to the new

religion have also been massacred and cut to pieces. It is probable that

the fire thus kindled will spread through all the cities of my kingdom,

and that all those of the said religion will be made sure of." Not often,

certainly, in history, has a Christian king spoken thus calmly of

butchering his subjects while the work was proceeding all around him. It

is to be observed, moreover, that the usual excuse for such enormities,

religious fanaticism, can not be even suggested on this occasion.

Catharine, in times past had favored Huguenots as much as Catholics,

while Charles had been, up to the very moment of the crime, in strict

alliance with the heretics of both France and Flanders, and furthering

the schemes of Orange and Nassau. Nay, even at this very moment, and in

this very letter in which he gave the news of the massacre, he charged

his envoy still to maintain the closest but most secret intelligence with

the Prince of Orange; taking great care that the Duke of Alva should not

discover these relations. His motives were, of course, to prevent the

Prince from abandoning his designs, and from coming to make a disturbance

in France. The King, now that the deed was done, was most anxious to reap

all the fruits of his crime. "Now, M. de Mondoucet, it is necessary in

such affairs," he continued, "to have an eye to every possible

contingency. I know that this news will be most agreeable to the Duke of

Alva, for it is most favorable to his designs. At the same time, I don't

desire that he alone should gather the fruit. I don't choose that he

should, according to his excellent custom, conduct his affairs in such

wise as to throw the Prince of Orange upon my hands, besides sending back

to France Genlis and the other prisoners, as well as the French now shut

up in Mons."

This was a sufficiently plain hint, which Mondoucet could not well

misunderstand. "Observe the Duke's countenance carefully when you give

him this message," added the King, "and let me know his reply." In order,

however, that there might be no mistake about the matter, Charles wrote

again to his ambassador, five days afterwards, distinctly stating the

regret which he should feel if Alva should not take the city of Mons, or

if he should take it by composition. "Tell the Duke," said he, "that it

is most important for the service of his master and of God that those

Frenchmen and others in Mons should be cut in pieces." He wrote another

letter upon the name day, such was his anxiety upon the subject,

instructing the envoy to urge upon Alva the necessity of chastising those

rebels to the French crown. "If he tells you," continued Charles, "that

this is tacitly requiring him to put to death all the French prisoners

now in hand as well to cut in pieces every man in Mons, you will say to

him that this is exactly what he ought to do, and that he will be guilty

of a great wrong to Christianity if he does otherwise." Certainly, the

Duke, having been thus distinctly ordered, both by his own master and by

his Christian Majesty, to put every one of these Frenchmen to death, had

a sufficiency of royal warrant. Nevertheless, he was not able to execute

entirely these ferocious instructions. The prisoners already in his power

were not destined to escape, but the city of Mons, in his own language,

"proved to have sharper teeth than he supposed."

Mondoucet lost no time in placing before Alva the urgent necessity of

accomplishing the extensive and cold-blooded massacre thus proposed. "The

Duke has replied," wrote the envoy to his sovereign, "that he is

executing his prisoners every day, and that he has but a few left.

Nevertheless, for some reason which he does not mention, he is reserving

the principal noblemen and chiefs." He afterwards informed his master

that Genlis, Jumelles, and the other leaders, had engaged, if Alva would

grant them a reasonable ransom, to induce the French in Mons to leave the

city, but that the Duke, although his language was growing less

confident, still hoped to take the town by assault. "I have urged him,"

he added, "to put them all to death, assuring him that he would be

responsible for the consequences of a contrary course."--"Why does not

your Most Christian master," asked Alva, "order these Frenchmen in Mons

to come to him under oath to make no disturbance? Then my prisoners will

be at my discretion and I shall get my city."--"Because," answered the

envoy, "they will not trust his Most Christian Majesty, and will prefer

to die in Mons."--[Mondoucet to Charles IX., 15th September, 1572.]

This certainly was a most sensible reply, but it is instructive to

witness the cynicism with which the envoy accepts this position for his

master, while coldly recording the results of all these sanguinary

conversations.

Such was the condition of affairs when the Prince of Orange arrived at

Peronne, between Binche and the Duke of Alva's entrenchments. The

besieging army was rich in notabilities of elevated rank. Don Frederic of

Toledo had hitherto commanded, but on the 27th of August, the Dukes of

Medina Coeli and of Alva had arrived in the camp. Directly afterwards

came the warlike Archbishop of Cologne, at the head of two thousand

cavalry. There was but one chance for the Prince of Orange, and

experience had taught him, four years before, its slenderness. He might

still provoke his adversary into a pitched battle, and he relied upon God

for the result. In his own words, "he trusted ever that the great God of

armies was with him, and would fight in the midst of his forces." If so

long as Alva remained in his impregnable camp, it was impossible to

attack him, or to throw reinforcements into Mons. The Prince soon found,

too, that Alva was far too wise to hazard his position by a superfluous

combat. The Duke knew that the cavalry of the Prince was superior to his

own. He expressed himself entirely unwilling to play into the Prince's

hands, instead of winning the game which was no longer doubtful. The

Huguenot soldiers within Mons were in despair and mutiny; Louis of Nassau

lay in his bed consuming with a dangerous fever; Genlis was a prisoner,

and his army cut to pieces; Coligny was murdered, and Protestant France

paralyzed; the troops of Orange, enlisted but for three months, were

already rebellious, and sure to break into open insubordination when the

consequences of the Paris massacre should become entirely clear to them;

and there were, therefore, even more cogent reasons than in 1568, why

Alva should remain perfectly still, and see his enemy's cause founder

before his eyes. The valiant Archbishop of Cologne was most eager for the

fray. He rode daily at the Duke's side, with harness on his back and

pistols in his holsters, armed and attired like one of his own troopers,

and urging the Duke, with vehemence, to a pitched battle with the Prince.

The Duke commended, but did not yield to, the prelate's enthusiasm. "'Tis

a fine figure of a man, with his corslet and pistols," he wrote to

Philip, "and he shows great affection for your Majesty's service."

The issue of the campaign was inevitable. On the 11th September, Don

Frederic, with a force of four thousand picked men, established himself

at Saint Florian, a village near the Havre gate of the city, while the

Prince had encamped at Hermigny, within half a league of the same place,

whence he attempted to introduce reinforcements into the town. On the

night of the 11th and 12th, Don Frederic hazarded an encamisada upon the

enemy's camp, which proved eminently successful, and had nearly resulted

in the capture of the Prince himself. A chosen band of six hundred

arquebussers, attired, as was customary in these nocturnal expeditions,

with their shirts outside their armor, that they might recognize each

other in the darkness, were led by Julian Romero, within the lines of the

enemy. The sentinels were cut down, the whole army surprised, and for a

moment powerless, while, for two hours long, from one o'clock in the

morning until three, the Spaniards butchered their foes, hardly aroused

from their sleep, ignorant by how small a force they had been thus

suddenly surprised, and unable in the confusion to distinguish between

friend and foe. The boldest, led by Julian in person, made at once for

the Prince's tent. His guards and himself were in profound sleep, but a

small spaniel, who always passed the night upon his bed, was a more

faithful sentinel. The creature sprang forward, barking furiously at the

sound of hostile footsteps, and scratching his master's face with his

paws.--There was but just time for the Prince to mount a horse which was

ready saddled, and to effect his escape through the darkness, before his

enemies sprang into the tent. His servants were cut down, his master of

the horse and two of his secretaries, who gained their saddles a moment

later, all lost their lives, and but for the little dog's watchfulness,

William of Orange, upon whose shoulders the whole weight of his country's

fortunes depended, would have been led within a week to an ignominious

death. To his dying day, the Prince ever afterwards kept a spaniel of the

same race in his bed-chamber. The midnight slaughter still continued, but

the Spaniards in their fury, set fire to the tents. The glare of the

conflagration showed the Orangists by how paltry a force they had been

surprised. Before they could rally, however, Romero led off his

arquebusiers, every one of whom had at least killed his man. Six hundred

of the Prince's troops had been put to the sword, while many others were

burned in their beds, or drowned in the little rivulet which flowed

outside their camp. Only sixty Spaniards lost their lives.

This disaster did not alter the plans of the Prince, for those plans had

already been frustrated. The whole marrow of his enterprise had been

destroyed in an instant by the massacre of Saint Bartholomew. He

retreated to Wronne and Nivelles, an assassin, named Heist, a German, by

birth, but a French chevalier, following him secretly in his camp,

pledged to take his life for a large reward promised by Alva--an

enterprise not destined, however, to be successful. The soldiers flatly

refused to remain an hour longer in the field, or even to furnish an

escort for Count Louis, if, by chance, he could be brought out of the

town. The Prince was obliged to inform his brother of the desperate state

of his affairs, and to advise him to capitulate on the best terms which

he could make. With a heavy heart, he left the chivalrous Louis besieged

in the city which he had so gallantly captured, and took his way across

the Meuse towards the Rhine. A furious mutiny broke out among his troops.

His life was, with difficulty, saved from the brutal soldiery--infuriated

at his inability to pay them, except in the over-due securities of the

Holland cities--by the exertions of the officers who still regarded him

with veneration and affection. Crossing the Rhine at Orsoy, he disbanded

his army and betook himself, almost alone, to Holland.

Yet even in this hour of distress and defeat, the Prince seemed more

heroic than many a conqueror in his day of triumph. With all his hopes

blasted, with the whole fabric of his country's fortunes shattered by the

colossal crime of his royal ally, he never lost his confidence in himself

nor his unfaltering trust in God. All the cities which, but a few weeks

before, had so eagerly raised his standard, now fell off at once. He went

to Holland, the only province which remained true, and which still looked

up to him as its saviour, but he went thither expecting and prepared to

perish. "There I will make my sepulchre," was his simple and sublime

expression in a private letter to his brother.

He had advanced to the rescue of Louis, with city after city opening its

arms to receive him. He had expected to be joined on the march by

Coligny, at the head of a chosen army, and he was now obliged to leave

his brother to his fate, having the massacre of the Admiral and his

confederates substituted for their expected army of assistance, and with

every city and every province forsaking his cause as eagerly as they had

so lately embraced it. "It has pleased God," he said, "to take away every

hope which we could have founded upon man; the King has published that

the massacre was by his orders, and has forbidden all his subjects, upon

pain of death, to assist me; he has, moreover, sent succor to Alva. Had

it not been for this, we had been masters of the Duke, and should have

made him capitulate at our pleasure." Yet even then he was not cast down.

Nor was his political sagacity liable to impeachment by the extent to

which he had been thus deceived by the French court. "So far from being

reprehensible that I did not suspect such a crime," he said, "I should

rather be chargeable with malignity had I been capable of so sinister a

suspicion. 'Tis not an ordinary thing to conceal such enormous

deliberations under the plausible cover of a marriage festival."

Meanwhile, Count Louis lay confined to his couch with a burning fever.

His soldiers refused any longer to hold the city, now that the altered

intentions of Charles IX. were known and the forces of Orange withdrawn.

Alva offered the most honorable conditions, and it was therefore

impossible for the Count to make longer resistance. The city was so

important, and time was at that moment so valuable that the Duke was

willing to forego his vengeance upon the rebel whom he so cordially

detested, and to be satisfied with depriving, him of the prize which he

had seized with such audacity. "It would have afforded me sincere

pleasure," wrote the Duke, "over and above the benefit to God and your

Majesty, to have had the Count of Nassau in my power. I would overleap

every obstacle to seize him, such is the particular hatred which I bear

the man." Under, the circumstances, however, he acknowledged that the

result of the council of war could only be to grant liberal terms.

On the 19th September, accordingly, articles of capitulation were signed

between the distinguished De la None with three others on the one part,

and the Seigneur de Noircarmes and three others on the side of Spain. The

town was given over to Alva, but all the soldiers were to go out with

their weapons and property. Those of the townspeople who had borne arms

against his Majesty, and all who still held to the Reformed religion,

were to retire with the soldiery. The troops were to pledge themselves

not to serve in future against the Kings of France or Spain, but from

this provision Louis, with his English and German soldiers, was expressly

excepted, the Count indignantly repudiating the idea of such a pledge, or

of discontinuing his hostilities for an instant. It was also agreed that

convoys should be furnished, and hostages exchanged, for the due

observance of the terms of the treaty. The preliminaries having been thus

settled, the patriot forces abandoned the town.

Count Louis, rising from his sick bed, paid his respects in person to the

victorious generals, at their request. He was received in Alva's camp

with an extraordinary show of admiration and esteem. The Duke of Medina

Coeli overwhelmed him with courtesies and "basolomanos," while Don

Frederic assured him, in the high-flown language of Spanish compliment,

that there was nothing which he would not do to serve him, and that he

would take a greater pleasure in executing his slightest wish than if he

had been his next of kin.

As the Count next day, still suffering with fever, and attired in his

long dressing-gown, was taking his departure from the city, he ordered

his carriage to stop at the entrance to Don Frederic's quarters. That

general, who had been standing incognito near the door, gazing with

honest admiration at the hero of so many a hard-fought field, withdrew as

he approached, that he might not give the invalid the trouble of

alighting. Louis, however, recognising him, addressed him with the

Spanish salutation, "Perdone vuestra Senoria la pesedumbre," and paused

at the gate. Don Frederic, from politeness to his condition, did not

present himself, but sent an aid-de-camp to express his compliments and

good wishes. Having exchanged these courtesies, Louis left the city,

conveyed, as had been agreed upon, by a guard of Spanish troops. There

was a deep meaning in the respect with which the Spanish generals had

treated the rebel chieftain. Although the massacre of Saint Bartholomew

met with Alva's entire approbation, yet it was his cue to affect a holy

horror at the event, and he avowed that he would "rather cut off both his

hands than be guilty of such a deed"--as if those hangman's hands had the

right to protest against any murder, however wholesale. Count Louis

suspected at once, and soon afterwards thoroughly understood; the real

motives of the chivalrous treatment which he had received. He well knew

that these very men would have sent him to the scaffold; had he fallen

into their power, and he therefore estimated their courtesy at its proper

value.

It was distinctly stated, in the capitulation of the city, that all the

soldiers, as well as such of the inhabitants as had borne arms, should be

allowed to leave the city, with all their property. The rest of the

people, it was agreed, might remain without molestation to their persons

or estates. It has been the general opinion of historians that the

articles of this convention were maintained by the conquerors in good

faith. Never was a more signal error. The capitulation was made late at

night, on the 20th September, without the provision which Charles IX. had

hoped for: the massacre, namely, of De la None and his companions. As for

Genlis and those who had been taken prisoners at his defeat, their doom

had already been sealed. The city was evacuated on the 21st September:

Alva entered it upon the 24th. Most of the volunteers departed with the

garrison, but many who had, most unfortunately, prolonged their farewells

to their families, trusting to the word of the Spanish Captain Molinos,

were thrown into prison. Noircarmes the butcher of Valenciennes, now made

his appearance in Mons. As grand bailiff of Hainault, he came to the

place as one in authority, and his deeds were now to complete the infamy

which must for ever surround his name. In brutal violation of the terms

upon which the town had surrendered, he now set about the work of

massacre and pillage. A Commission of Troubles, in close imitation of the

famous Blood Council at Brussels, was established, the members of the

tribunal being appointed by Noircarmes, and all being inhabitants of the

town. The council commenced proceedings by condemning all the volunteers,

although expressly included in the capitulation. Their wives and

children were all banished; their property all confiscated. On the 15th

December, the executions commenced. The intrepid De Leste, silk

manufacturer, who had commanded a band of volunteers, and sustained

during the siege the assaults of Alva's troops with remarkable courage at

a very critical moment, was one of the earliest victims. In consideration

"that he was a gentleman, and not among the most malicious," he was

executed by sword. "In respect that he heard the mass, and made a sweet

and Catholic end," it was allowed that he should be "buried in

consecrated earth." Many others followed in quick succession. Some were

beheaded, some were hanged, some were burned alive. All who had borne

arms or worked at the fortifications were, of course, put to death. Such

as refused to confess and receive the Catholic sacraments perished by

fire. A poor wretch, accused of having ridiculed these mysteries, had his

tongue torn out before being beheaded. A cobbler, named Blaise Bouzet,

was hanged for having eaten meat-soup upon Friday. He was also accused of

going to the Protestant preachings for the sake of participating in the

alms distributed an these occasions, a crime for which many other paupers

were executed. An old man of sixty-two was sent to the scaffold for

having permitted his son to bear arms among the volunteers. At last, when

all pretexts were wanting to justify executions; the council assigned as

motives for its decrees an adhesion of heart on the part of the victims

to the cause of the insurgents, or to the doctrines of the Reformed

Church. Ten, twelve, twenty persons, were often hanged, burned, or

beheaded in a single day. Gibbets laden with mutilated bodies lined the

public highways,--while Noircarmes, by frightful expressions of

approbation, excited without ceasing the fury of his satellites. This

monster would perhaps, be less worthy of execration had he been governed

in these foul proceedings by fanatical bigotry or by political hatred;

but his motives were of the most sordid description. It was mainly to

acquire gold for himself that he ordained all this carnage. With the same

pen which signed the death-sentences of the richest victims, he drew

orders to his own benefit on their confiscated property. The lion's share

of the plunder was appropriated by himself. He desired the estate; of

Francois de Glarges, Seigneur d'Eslesmes. The gentleman had committed no

offence of any kind, and, moreover, lived beyond the French frontier.

Nevertheless, in contempt of international law, the neighbouring

territory was invaded, and d'Eslesmes dragged before the blood tribunal

of Mons. Noircarmes had drawn up beforehand, in his own handwriting, both

the terms of the accusation and of the sentence. The victim was innocent

and a Catholic, but he was rich. He confessed to have been twice at the

preaching, from curiosity, and to have omitted taking the sacrament at

the previous Easter. For these offences he was beheaded, and his

confiscated estate adjudged at an almost nominal price to the secretary

of Noircarmes, bidding for his master. "You can do me no greater

pleasure," wrote Noircarmes to the council, "than to make quick work with

all these rebels, and to proceed with the confiscation of their estates,

real and personal. Don't fail to put all those to the torture out of whom

anything can be got."

Notwithstanding the unexampled docility of the commissioners, they found

it difficult to extract from their redoubted chief a reasonable share in

the wages of blood. They did not scruple, therefore, to display their

own infamy, and to enumerate their own crimes, in order to justify their

demand for higher salaries. "Consider," they said, in a petition to this

end, "consider closely, all that is odious in our office, and the great

number of banishments and of executions which we have pronounced among

all our own relations and friends."

It may be added, moreover, as a slight palliation for the enormous crimes

committed by these men, that, becoming at last weary of their business,

they urged Noircarmes to desist from the work of proscription. Longehaye,

one of the commissioners, even waited upon him personally, with a plea

for mercy in favor of "the poor people, even beggars, who, although

having borne arms during the siege, might then be pardoned." Noircarmes,

in a rage at the proposition, said that "if he did not know the

commissioners to be honest men, he should believe that their palms had

been oiled," and forbade any farther words on the subject. When Longehaye

still ventured to speak in favor of certain persons "who were very poor

and simple, not charged with duplicity, and good Catholics besides," he

fared no better. "Away with you!" cried Noircarmes in a great fury,

adding that he had already written to have execution done upon the whole

of them. "Whereupon," said poor blood-councillor Longehaye, in his letter

to his colleagues, "I retired, I leave you to guess how."

Thus the work went on day after day, month after month. Till the 27th

August of the following year (1573) the executioner never rested, and

when Requesens, successor to Alva, caused the prisons of Mons to be

opened, there were found still seventy-five individuals condemned to the

block, and awaiting their fate.

It is the most dreadful commentary upon the times in which these

transactions occurred, that they could sink so soon into oblivion. The

culprits took care to hide the records of their guilt, while succeeding

horrors, on a more extensive scale, at other places, effaced the memory

of all these comparatively obscure murders and spoliations. The

prosperity of Mons, one of the most flourishing and wealthy manufacturing

towns in the Netherlands, was annihilated, but there were so many cities

in the same condition that its misery was hardly remarkable.

Nevertheless, in our own days, the fall of a mouldering tower in the

ruined Chateau de Naast at last revealed the archives of all these

crimes. How the documents came to be placed there remains a mystery, but

they have at last been brought to light.

The Spaniards had thus recovered Mons, by which event the temporary

revolution throughout the whole Southern Netherlands was at an end. The

keys of that city unlocked the gates of every other in Brabant and

Flanders. The towns which had so lately embraced the authority of Orange

now hastened to disavow the Prince, and to return to their ancient,

hypocritical, and cowardly allegiance. The new oaths of fidelity were in

general accepted by Alva, but the beautiful archiepiscopal city of

Mechlin was selected for an example and a sacrifice.

There were heavy arrears due to the Spanish troops. To indemnify them,

and to make good his blasphemous prophecy of Divine chastisement for its

past misdeeds, Alva now abandoned this town to the licence of his

soldiery. By his command Don Frederic advanced to the gates and demanded

its surrender. He was answered by a few shots from the garrison. Those

cowardly troops, however, having thus plunged the city still more deeply

into the disgrace which, in Alva's eyes, they had incurred by receiving

rebels within their walls after having but just before refused admittance

to the Spanish forces, decamped during the night, and left the place

defenceless.

Early next morning there issued from the gates a solemn procession of

priests, with banner and crozier, followed by a long and suppliant throng

of citizens, who attempted by this demonstration to avert the wrath of

the victor. While the penitent psalms were resounding, the soldiers were

busily engaged in heaping dried branches and rubbish into the moat.

Before the religious exercises were concluded, thousands had forced the

gates or climbed the walls; and entered the city with a celerity which

only the hope of rapine could inspire. The sack instantly commenced. The

property of friend and foe, of Papist and Calvinist, was indiscriminately

rifled. Everything was dismantled and destroyed. "Hardly a nail," said a

Spaniard, writing soon afterwards from Brussels, "was left standing in

the walls." The troops seemed to imagine themselves in a Turkish town,

and wreaked the Divine vengeance which Alva had denounced upon the city

with an energy which met with his fervent applause.

Three days long the horrible scene continued, one day for the benefit of

the Spaniards, two more for that of the Walloons and Germans. All the

churches, monasteries, religious houses of every kind, were completely

sacked. Every valuable article which they contained, the ornaments of

altars, the reliquaries, chalices, embroidered curtains, and carpets of

velvet or damask, the golden robes of the priests, the repositories of

the host, the precious vessels of chrism and extreme unction, the rich

clothing and jewellery adorning the effigies of the Holy Virgin, all were

indiscriminately rifled by the Spanish soldiers. The holy wafers were

trampled underfoot, the sacramental wine was poured upon the ground, and,

in brief, all the horrors which had been committed by the iconoclasts in

their wildest moments, and for a thousandth part of which enormities

heretics had been burned in droves, were now repeated in Mechlin by the

especial soldiers of Christ, by Roman Catholics who had been sent to the

Netherlands to avenge the insults offered to the Roman Catholic faith.

The motive, too, which inspired the sacrilegious crew was not fanaticism,

but the desire of plunder. The property of Romanists was taken as freely

as that of Calvinists, of which sect there were; indeed, but few in the

archiepiscopal city. Cardinal Granvelle's house was rifled. The pauper

funds deposited in the convents were not respected. The beds were taken

from beneath sick and dying women, whether lady abbess or hospital

patient, that the sacking might be torn to pieces in search of hidden

treasure.

The iconoclasts of 1566 had destroyed millions of property for the sake

of an idea, but they had appropriated nothing. Moreover, they had

scarcely injured a human being; confining their wrath to graven images.

The Spaniards at Mechlin spared neither man nor woman. The murders and

outrages would be incredible, were they not attested by most respectable

Catholic witnesses. Men were butchered in their houses, in the streets,

at the altars. Women were violated by hundreds in churches and in

grave-yards. Moreover, the deed had been as deliberately arranged as it

was thoroughly performed. It was sanctioned by the highest authority. Don

Frederic, Son of Alva, and General Noircarmes were both present at the

scene, and applications were in vain made to them that the havoc might be

stayed. "They were seen whispering to each other in the ear on their

arrival," says an eye-witness and a Catholic, "and it is well known that

the affair had been resolved upon the preceding day. The two continued

together as long as they remained in the city." The work was, in truth,

fully accomplished. The ultra-Catholic, Jean Richardot, member of the

Grand Council, and nephew of the Bishop of Arras, informed the State

Council that the sack of Mechlin had been so horrible that the poor and

unfortunate mothers had not a single morsel of bread to put in the mouths

of their children, who were dying before their eyes--so insane and cruel

had been the avarice of the plunderers. "He could say more," he added,

"if his hair did not stand on end, not only at recounting, but even at

remembering the scene."

Three days long the city was abandoned to that trinity of furies which

ever wait upon War's footsteps--Murder, Lust, and Rapine--under whose

promptings human beings become so much more terrible than the most

ferocious beasts. In his letter to his master, the Duke congratulated him

upon these foul proceedings as upon a pious deed well accomplished. He

thought it necessary, however; to excuse himself before the public in a

document, which justified the sack of Mechlin by its refusal to accept

his garrison a few months before, and by the shots which had been

discharged at his troops as they approached the city. For these offences,

and by his express order, the deed was done. Upon his head must the guilt

for ever rest.