“Having received orders from her brother to invade France, with all the
forces she could raise, she assembled the States of the United
Provinces, and obtained from them a subsidy of 1,200,000 florins, to
defray the expense of that undertaking. Of this sum, the county of
Flanders was obliged to pay a third part as its proportion. But the
citizens of Ghent, the most considerable city in that country, averse to
a war with France, with which they carried on an extensive and gainful
commerce, refused to pay their quota, and contended, that in consequence
of stipulations between them and the ancestors of their present
sovereign, the Emperor, no tax could be levied upon them, unless they
had given their express consent to the imposition of it. The governess,
on the other hand, maintained, that as the subsidy of 1,200,000 florins
had been granted by the States of Flanders, of which their
representatives were members, they were bound, of course, to conform to
what was enacted by them, as it is the first principle in society on
which the tranquillity and order of government depend, that the
inclinations of the minority must be overruled by the judgment and
decision of the superior number. The citizens of Ghent, however, were
not willing to relinquish a privilege of such high importance as that
which they claimed. Having been accustomed, under the government of the
house of Burgundy, to enjoy extensive immunities, and to be treated with
much indulgence, they disdained to sacrifice to the delegated power of a
regent, those rights and liberties which they had often and successfully
asserted against their greatest princes. The queen, though she
endeavoured at first to soothe them, and to reconcile them to their duty
by various concessions, was at last so much irritated by the obstinacy
with which they adhered to their claim, that she ordered all the
citizens of Ghent, on whom she could lay hold, in any part of the
Netherlands, to be arrested. But this rash action made an impression
very different from what she expected, on men whose minds were agitated
with all the violent passions which indignation at oppression and zeal
for liberty inspire. Less affected with the danger of their friends and
companions, than irritated at the governess, they openly despised her
authority and sent deputies to the other towns of Flanders, conjuring
them not to abandon their country at such a juncture, but to concur with
them in vindicating its rights against the encroachments of a woman who
either did not know or did not regard their immunities. All but a few
inconsiderable towns declined entering into a confederacy against the
governess; they joined, however, in petitioning her to put off the term
for payment of the tax so long, that they might have it in their power
to send some of their number into Spain, in order to lay their title to
exemption before their sovereign. This she granted with some difficulty.
But Charles received their commissioners with an haughtiness to which
they were not accustomed from their ancient princes, and enjoining them
to yield the same respectful obedience to his sister, which they owed to
him in person, remitted the examination of their claim to the council of
Malines. This court, which is properly a standing committee of the
parliament, or States of the country, and which possesses the supreme
jurisdiction in all matters, civil as well as criminal, pronounced the
claim of the citizens of Ghent to be ill-founded, and appointed them
forthwith to pay their proportion of the tax.”
An insurrection was the consequence, in which the Netherlanders relied
upon the assistance of Charles’s enemy, the king of France. But it was
the interest or the humour of Francis, at the moment, rather to
communicate their intentions to the emperor, to whom he at the same time
granted a free passage through his dominions to the Netherlands. Thus
abandoned, as Robertson continues:
“The near approach of danger made them at last so sensible of their own
folly, that they sent ambassadors to Charles, imploring his mercy, and
offering to set open their gates at his approach. The emperor, without
vouchsafing any other answer, than that he would appear among them as
their sovereign, with sceptre and sword in his hand, began his march at
the head of his troops. Though he chose to enter the city on the
twenty-fourth of February, his birth-day, he was touched with nothing of
that tenderness or indulgence which was natural toward the place of his
nativity. Twenty-six of the principal citizens were put to death; a
greater number was sent into banishment; _the city was declared to have
forfeited all its privileges and immunities_; the revenues belonging to
it were confiscated; _its ancient form of government was abolished_; the
nomination of its magistrates was vested for the future in the emperor
and his successors; _a new system of laws and political administration
was prescribed_; and, in order to bridle the seditious spirit of the
citizens, orders were given to erect a strong citadel, for defraying the
expense of which a fine of 180,000 florins was imposed on the
inhabitants, together with an annual tax of 6,000 florins for the
support of the garrison. By these rigorous proceedings, Charles not only
punished the citizens of Ghent, but set an awful example of severity
before the other subjects in the Netherlands, whose immunities and
privileges, _partly the effect, partly the cause of their extensive
commerce_, circumscribed the prerogative of their sovereign within very
narrow bounds, and often stood in the way of measures which he wished to
undertake, or fettered and retarded him in his operations.”
We do not relate the shameful conduct of Charles to Francis, at this
time, being obliged by the limitations of our plan to confine ourselves
principally to the crimes of the House of Austria against liberty and
law, and to omit its bad faith towards brother despots.
Before we go on to speak of the atrocious reign of Philip II. over the
Netherlands, we will copy a paragraph from Mr. Grattan, in which is
described the condition of the country at the time of his accession,
which he introduces with some references to the causes of its
prosperity.
“The amazing increase of commerce was, above all other considerations,
the cause of the growth of liberty in the Netherlands. The Reformation
opened the minds of men to that intellectual freedom, without which
political enfranchisement is a worthless privilege. The invention of
printing opened a thousand channels to the flow of erudition and talent,
and sent them out from the reservoirs of individual possession to
fertilise the whole domain of human nature. War, which seems to be an
instinct of man, and which particular instances of heroism often raise
to the dignity of a passion, was reduced to a science, and made
subservient to those great principles of policy in which society began
to perceive its only chance of durable good. Manufactures attained a
state of high perfection, and went on progressively with the growth of
wealth and luxury. The opulence of the towns of Brabant and Flanders was
without any previous example in the state of Europe. A merchant of
Bruges took upon himself alone the security for the ransom of John the
Fearless, taken at the battle of Nicopolis, amounting to 200,000 ducats.
A provost of Valenciennes repaired to Paris at one of the great fairs
periodically held there, and purchased on his own account every article
that was for sale. At a repast given by one of the counts of Flanders to
the Flemish magistrates, the seats they occupied were unfurnished with
cushions. Those proud burghers folded their sumptuous cloaks and sat on
them. After the feast they were retiring without retaining these
important and costly articles of dress; and on a courtier reminding them
of their apparent neglect, the burgomaster of Bruges replied, ‘We
Flemings are not in the habit of carrying away the cushions after
dinner!’ The meetings of the different towns for the sports of archery
were signalised by the most splendid display of dress and decoration.
The archers were habited in silk, damask, and the finest linen, and
carried chains of gold of great weight and value. Luxury was at its
height among women. The queen of Philip the Fair of France, on a visit
to Bruges, exclaimed, with astonishment not unmixed with envy, I thought
myself the only queen here; but I see six hundred others who appear more
so than I.
“The external relations of the country presented an aspect of prosperity
and peace. England was closely allied to it by queen Mary’s marriage
with Philip; France, fatigued with war, had just concluded with it a
five years’ truce; Germany, paralyzed by religious dissensions,
exhausted itself in domestic quarrels; the other states were too distant
or too weak to inspire any uneasiness; and nothing appeared wanting for
the public weal. Nevertheless there was something dangerous and alarming
in the situation of the Low Countries; but the danger consisted wholly
in the connection between the monarch and the people, and the alarm was
not sounded till the mischief was beyond remedy.
“Philip had only once visited the Netherlands before his accession to
sovereign power. Being at that time twenty-two years of age, his
opinions were formed and his prejudices deeply rooted. Everything that
he observed on this visit was calculated to revolt both. The frank
cordiality of the people appeared too familiar. The expression of
popular rights sounded like the voice of rebellion. Even the
magnificence displayed in his honor offended his jealous vanity. From
that moment he seems to have conceived an implacable aversion to the
country, in which alone, of all his vast possessions, he could not
display the power or inspire the terror of despotism.
“The sovereign’s dislike was fully equalled by the disgust of his
subjects. His haughty severity and vexatious etiquette revolted their
pride as well as their plain dealing; and the moral qualities of their
new sovereign were considered with loathing. The commercial and
political connection between the Netherlands and Spain had given the two
people ample opportunities for mutual acquaintance. The dark, vindictive
dispositions of the latter inspired a deep antipathy in those whom
civilisation had softened and liberty rendered frank and generous; and
the new sovereign seemed to embody all that was repulsive and odious in
the nation of which he was the type.
“Philip knew well that force alone was insufficient to reduce such a
people to slavery. He succeeded in persuading the states to grant him
considerable subsidies, some of which were to be paid by instalments
during a period of nine years. That was gaining a great step towards his
designs, as it superseded the necessity of a yearly application to the
three orders, the guardians of the public liberty. At the same time he
sent secret agents to Rome, to obtain the approbation of the pope to his
insidious but most effective plan for placing the whole of the clergy in
dependence upon the crown. He also kept up the army of Spaniards and
Germans which his father had formed on the frontiers of France; and
although he did not remove from their employments the functionaries
already in place, he took care to make no new appointments to office
among the natives of the Netherlands.
“In the midst of these cunning preparations for tyranny, Philip was
suddenly attacked in two quarters at once; by Henry II. of France, and
by Pope Paul IV.”
The important results of these two wars, the alliance of France, and the
support of the Pope, results brought about by the incredible baseness
and hypocrisy of Philip; together with the hostility of Elizabeth of
England, which he provoked by the treaty of Chateau-Cambresis, (1559,)
were all made subservient to the grand design of consolidating despotism
in the Netherlands.
“To lead his already deceived subjects the more surely into the snare,
he announced his intended departure on a short visit to Spain; and
created for the period of his absence a provisional government, chiefly
composed of the leading men among the Belgian nobility. He flattered
himself that the states, dazzled by the illustrious illusion thus
prepared, would cheerfully grant to this provisional government the
right of levying taxes during the temporary absence of the sovereign. He
also reckoned on the influence of the clergy in the national assembly,
to procure the revival of the edicts against heresy, which he had gained
the merit of suspending. These, with many minor details of profound
duplicity, formed the principal features of a plan, which, if
successful, would have reduced the Netherlands to the wretched state of
colonial dependence by which Naples and Sicily were held in the tenure
of Spain.
“As soon as the states had consented to place the whole powers of
government in the hands of the new administration for the period of the
king’s absence, the royal hypocrite believed his scheme secure, and
flattered himself he had established an instrument of durable despotism.
The composition of this new government was a masterpiece of political
machinery. It consisted of several councils, in which the most
distinguished citizens were entitled to a place, in sufficient numbers
to deceive the people with a show of representation, but not enough to
command a majority, which was sure on any important question to rest
with the titled creatures of the court. The edicts against heresy, soon
adopted, gave to the clergy an almost unlimited power over the lives and
fortunes of the people. But almost all the dignitaries of the church
being men of great respectability and moderation, chosen by the body of
the inferior clergy, these extraordinary powers excited little alarm.
Philip’s project was suddenly to replace these virtuous ecclesiastics by
others of his own choice, as soon as the states broke up from their
annual meeting; and for this intention he had procured the secret
consent and authority of the court of Rome.
“In support of these combinations, the Belgian troops were completely
broken up and scattered in small bodies over the country. The whole of
this force, so redoubtable to the fears of despotism, consisted of only
3000 cavalry. It was now divided into fourteen companies (or squadrons
in the modern phraseology,) under the command of as many independent
chiefs, so as to leave little chance of any principle of union reigning
among them. But the German and Spanish troops in Philip’s pay were
cantoned on the frontiers, ready to stifle any incipient effort in
opposition to his plans. In addition to these imposing means for their
execution, he had secured a still more secret and more powerful
support;—a secret article in the treaty of Chateau-Cambresis obliged the
king of France to assist him with the whole armies of France against his
Belgian subjects, should they prove refractory. Thus the late war, of
which the Netherlands had borne all the weight, and earned all the
glory, only brought about the junction of the defeated enemy with their
own king for the extinction of their national independence.
“To complete the execution of this system of perfidy, Philip convened an
assembly of all the states at Ghent, in the month of July, 1559. This
meeting of the representatives of the three orders of the state offered
no apparent obstacle to Philip’s views. The clergy, alarmed at the
progress of the new doctrines, gathered more closely round the
government of which they required the support. The nobles had lost much
of their ancient attachment to liberty; and had become, in various ways,
dependent on the royal favour. Many of the first families were then
represented by men possessed rather of courage and candour than of
foresight and sagacity. That of Nassau, the most distinguished of all,
seemed the least interested in the national cause. A great part of its
possessions were in Germany and France, where it had recently acquired
the sovereign principality of Orange. It was only from the third
order—that of the commons—that Philip had to expect any opposition.
Already, during the war, it had shown some discontent, and had insisted
on the nomination of commissioners to control the accounts and the
disbursements of the subsidies. But it seemed improbable, that among
this class of men, any would be found capable of penetrating the
manifold combinations of the king, and disconcerting his designs.
“Anthony Perrenotte de Granvelle, bishop of Arras, who was considered as
Philip’s favourite counsellor, but who was in reality no more than his
docile agent, was commissioned to address the assembly in the name of
his master, who spoke only Spanish. His oration was one of cautious
deception, and contained the most flattering assurances of Philip’s
attachment to the people of the Netherlands. It excused the king for not
having nominated his only son Don Carlos to reign over them in his name;
alleging, as a proof of his royal affection, that he preferred giving
them as governant a Belgian princess, Madame Marguerite, duchess of
Parma, the natural daughter of Charles V. by a young lady, a native of
Audenarde. Fair promises and fine words were thus lavished in profusion
to gain the confidence of the deputies.
“But notwithstanding all the talent, the caution, and the mystery of
Philip and his minister, there was among the nobles one man who saw
through all. This individual, endowed with many of the highest
attributes of political genius, and pre-eminently with judgment, the
most important of all, entered, fearlessly into the contest against
tyranny—despising every personal sacrifice for the country’s good.
Without making himself suspiciously prominent, he privately warned some
members of the states of the coming danger. Those in whom he confided
did not betray the trust. They spread among the other deputies the
alarm, and pointed out the danger to which they had been so judiciously
awakened. The consequence was, a reply to Philip’s demand, in vague and
general terms, without binding the nation by any pledge; and an
unanimous entreaty that he would diminish the taxes, withdraw the
foreign troops, and entrust no official employments to any but natives
of the country.
“Philip was utterly astounded at all this. In the first moment of his
vexation he imprudently cried out, ‘Would ye, then, also bereave _me_ of
my place; I, who am a Spaniard?’ But he soon recovered his self-command,
and resumed his usual mask; expressed his regret at not having sooner
learned the wishes of the state; promised to remove the foreign troops
within three months; and set off for Zealand, with assumed composure,
but filled with the fury of a discovered traitor and humiliated despot.
“A fleet under the command of count Horn, the admiral of the United
Provinces, waited at Flessingue to form his escort to Spain. At the very
moment of his departure, William of Nassau, prince of Orange and
governor of Zealand, waited on him to pay his official respects. The
king, taking him apart from the other attendant nobles, recommended him
to hasten the execution of several gentlemen and wealthy citizens
attached to the newly introduced religious opinions. Then, quite
suddenly, whether in the random impulse of suppressed rage, or that his
piercing glance discovered William’s secret feelings in his countenance,
he accused him with having been the means of thwarting his designs.
‘Sire,’ replied Nassau, ‘it was the work of the national states.’—‘No!’
cried Philip, grasping him furiously by the arm; ‘it was not done by the
states, but by you, and you alone!’”
“This glorious accusation was not repelled. He who had saved his country
in unmasking the designs of its tyrant, admitted by his silence his
title to the hatred of the one and the gratitude of the other. On the
20th of August, Philip embarked and set sail; turning his back for ever
on the country which offered the first check to his despotism; and,
after a perilous voyage, he arrived in that which permitted a free
indulgence to his ferocious and sanguinary career.
“For some time after Philip’s departure, the Netherlands continued to
enjoy considerable prosperity. From the period of the peace of
Chateau-Cambresis, commerce and navigation had acquired new and
increasing activity. The fisheries, but particularly that of herrings,
became daily more important; that one alone occupying 2000 boats. While
Holland, Zealand, and Friesland made this progress in their peculiar
branches of industry, the southern provinces were not less active or
successful. Spain and the colonies offered such a mart for the objects
of their manufacture, that in a single year they received from Flanders
fifty large ships, filled with articles of household furniture and
utensils. The exportation of woollen goods amounted to enormous sums.
Bruges alone sold annually to the amount of 4,000,000 florins of stuffs
of Spanish, and as much of English, wool; and the least value of the
florin then was quadruple its present worth. The commerce with England,
though less important than that with Spain, was calculated yearly at
24,000,000 florins, which was chiefly clear profit to the Netherlands,
as their exportations consisted almost entirely of objects of their own
manufacture. Their commercial relations with France, Germany, Italy,
Portugal, and the Levant, were daily increasing. Antwerp was the centre
of this prodigious trade. Several sovereigns, among others Elizabeth of
England, had recognized agents in that city, equivalent to consuls of
the present times; and loans of immense amount were frequently
negotiated by them with wealthy merchants, who furnished them, not in
negotiable bills or for unredeemable debentures, but in solid gold, and
on a simple acknowledgment.
“Flanders and Brabant were still the richest and most flourishing
portions of the state. Some municipal fêtes given about this time afford
a notion of their opulence. On one of these occasions the town of
Mechlin sent a deputation to Antwerp, consisting of 326 horsemen dressed
in velvet and satin with gold and silver ornaments; while those of
Brussels consisted of 340 as splendidly equipped, and accompanied by
seven huge triumphal chariots and seventy-eight carriages of various
constructions,—a prodigious number for those days.”
We cannot give a complete account of the contest which Philip II. waged
with the people of these rich and free provinces. That contest brought
before the world the consummate ability and virtue of the first William
of Orange, who at an early day penetrated, as we have seen, the designs
of the tyrant, and until the unfortunate day in which he was murdered by
the third assassin whom Philip had educated for the purpose, stood for
the rights of his nation, glorious both in victory and defeat. We will
make a few extracts to show the character of the events, happy if we
succeed in sending our readers to study out all the details in
Schiller’s Revolt of the Netherlands, and Mr. Grattan’s more extensive
history of the country from its origin to the battle of Waterloo.
“The new bishops were to a man most violent, intolerant, and it may be
conscientious, opponents to the wide-spreading doctrines of reform. The
execution of the edicts against heresy was confided to them. The
provincial governors and inferior magistrates were commanded to aid them
with a strong arm; and the most unjust and frightful persecution
immediately commenced. But still some of these governors and
magistrates, considering themselves not only the officers of the prince,
but the protectors of the people, and the defenders of the laws rather
than of the faith, did not blindly conform to those harsh and illegal
commands. The prince of Orange, stadtholder of Holland, Zealand, and
Utrecht, and count of Egmont, governor of Flanders and Artois, permitted
no persecutions in those five provinces. But in various places the very
people, even when influenced by their superiors, openly opposed it.
Catholics as well as Protestants were indignant at the atrocious
spectacles of cruelty presented on all sides. The public peace was
endangered by isolated acts of resistance, and fears of a general
insurrection soon became universal.
“The public fermentation subsided; the patriot lords re-appeared at
court; and the prince of Orange acquired an increasing influence in the
council and over the government, who by his advice adopted a
conciliatory line of conduct—a fallacious but still a temporary hope for
the nation. But the calm was of short duration. Scarcely was this
moderation evinced by the government, when Philip, obstinate in his
designs, and outrageous in his resentment, sent an order to have the
edicts against heresy put into most rigorous execution, and to proclaim
throughout the seventeen provinces the furious decree of the council of
Trent.
“Not satisfied with the hitherto established forms of punishment, Philip
now expressly commanded that the more revolting means decreed by his
father in the rigour of his early zeal, such as burning, living burial,
and the like, should be adopted; and he somewhat more obscurely directed
that the victims should be no longer publicly immolated, but secretly
destroyed. He endeavoured, by this vague phraseology, to avoid the
actual utterance of the word _inquisition_; but he thus virtually
established that atrocious tribunal, with attributes still more terrific
than even in Spain; for there the condemned had at least the consolation
of dying in open day, and of displaying the fortitude which is rarely
proof against the horror of a private execution. Philip had thus
consummated his treason against the principles of justice and the
practices of jurisprudence, which had heretofore characterized the
country; and against the most vital of those privileges which he had
solemnly sworn to maintain.
“His design of establishing this horrible tribunal so impiously named
_holy_ by its founders, had been long suspected by the people of the
Netherlands. The expression of those fears had reached him more than
once. He as often replied by assurances that he had formed no such
project, and particularly to count d’Egmont during his recent visit to
Madrid. But at the very time he assembled a conclave of his creatures,
doctors of theology, of whom he formally demanded an opinion as to
whether he could conscientiously tolerate two sorts of religion in the
Netherlands. The doctors, hoping to please him, replied, that ‘he might,
for the avoidance of a greater evil.’ Philip trembled with rage, and
exclaimed, with a threatening tone, ‘I ask not if I _can_, but if I
_ought_.’ The theologians read in this question the nature of the
expected reply; and it was amply conformable to his wish. He immediately
threw himself on his knees before a crucifix, and raising his hands
towards heaven, put up a prayer for strength in his resolution to pursue
as deadly enemies all who viewed that effigy with feelings different
from his own. If this were not really a sacrilegious farce, it must be
that the blaspheming bigot believed the Deity to be a monster of cruelty
like himself.
“And now in reality began the awful revolution of the Netherlands
against their tyrant. In a few years this so lately flourishing and
happy nation presented a frightful picture; and in the midst of European
peace, prosperity, and civilization, the wickedness of one prince drew
down on the country he misgoverned more evils than it had suffered for
centuries from the worst effects of his foreign foes.
“The confederation acquired its perfect organization in the month of
February, 1566, on the 10th of which month its celebrated manifesto was
signed by its numerous adherents.
“This remarkable proclamation of general feeling consisted chiefly in a
powerful reprehension of the illegal establishment of the inquisition in
the Low Countries, and a solemn obligation on the members of the
confederacy to unite in the common cause against this detested nuisance.
Men of all ranks and classes offered their signatures, and several
Catholic priests among the rest.
“Even while the council of state held its sittings, the report was
spread through Brussels, that the confederates were approaching. And at
length they did enter the city, to the amount of some hundreds of the
representatives of the first families in the country. On the following
day, the 5th of April, 1556, they walked in solemn procession to the
palace. Their demeanour was highly imposing, from their mingled air of
forbearance and determination. All Brussels thronged out, to gaze and
sympathise with this extraordinary spectacle of men whose resolute step
showed they were no common suppliants, but whose modest bearing had none
of the seditious air of faction. The government received the
distinguished petitioners with courtesy, listened to their detail of
grievances, and returned a moderate, conciliatory, but evasive answer.
“Having presented two subsequent remonstrances to the government, and
obtained some consoling promises of moderation, the chief confederates
quitted Brussels, leaving several directors to sustain their cause in
the capital; while they themselves spread into the various provinces,
exciting the people to join the legal and constitutional resistance with
which they were resolved to oppose the march of bigotry and despotism.
“The confederation gained ground every day. Its measures had totally
changed the face of affairs in all parts of the nation. The general
discontent now acquired stability, and subsequent importance. The chief
merchants of many of the towns enrolled themselves in the patriot band.”
The result of these first measures was a deputation from Marguerite to
Philip, praying for redress of the grievances named by the
confederation; and even Philip’s Spanish Councillors advised gentleness
and the abolition of the Inquisition.
“The king’s first care on receiving this advice was to order, in all the
principal towns of Spain and the Netherlands, prayer and processions, to
implore the divine approbation on the resolutions which he had formed.
He appeared then in person at the council of state, and issued a decree,
by which he refused his consent to the convocation of the
states-general, and bound himself to take several German regiments into
his pay. He ordered the duchess of Parma, by a private letter, to
immediately cause to be raised 3000 cavalry and 10,000 foot, and he
remitted to her for this purpose 300,000 florins gold. He next wrote
with his own hand to several of his partisans in the various towns,
encouraging them in their fidelity to his purposes, and promising them
his support. He rejected the adoption of the moderation recommended to
him; but he consented to the abolition of the inquisition in its most
odious sense, reëstablishing that modified species of ecclesiastical
tyranny which had been introduced into the Netherlands by Charles V. The
people of that devoted country were thus successful in obtaining one
important concession from the king, and in meeting unexpected
consideration from this Spanish council. Whether these measures had been
calculated with a view to their failure, it is not now easy to
determine; at all events they came too late. When Philip’s letters
reached Brussels, the iconoclasts or image-breakers were abroad.
“It requires no profound research to comprehend the impulse which leads
a horde of fanatics to the most monstrous excesses. That the deeds of
the iconoclasts arose from the spontaneous outburst of mere vulgar fury,
admits of no doubt. The aspersion which would trace those deeds to the
meeting of St. Trond, and fix the infamy on the body of nobility there
assembled, is scarcely worthy of refutation. The very lowest of the
people were the actors as well as the authors of the outrages, which
were at once shocking to every friend of liberty, and injurious to that
sacred cause. Artois and western Flanders were the scenes of the first
exploits of the iconoclasts. A band of peasants, intermixed with beggars
and various other vagabonds, to the amount of about 300, urged by
fanaticism and those baser passions which animate every lawless body of
men, armed with hatchets, clubs, and hammers, forced open the doors of
some of the village churches in the neighbourhood of St. Omer, and tore
down and destroyed not only the images and relics of saints, but those
very ornaments which Christians of all sects hold sacred, and essential
to the most simple rites of religion.
“The cities of Ypres, Lille, and other places of importance, were soon
subject to similar visitations; and the whole of Flanders was in a few
days ravaged by furious multitudes, whose frantic energy spread terror
and destruction on their route. Antwerp was protected for a while by the
presence of the prince of Orange; but an order from the government
having obliged him to repair to Brussels, a few nights after his
departure the celebrated cathedral shared the fate of many a minor
temple, and was utterly pillaged. The blind fury of the spoilers was not
confined to the mere effigies which they considered the types of
idolatry, nor even to the pictures, the vases, the sixty-six altars, and
their richly wrought accessories; but it was equally fatal to the
splendid organ, which was considered the finest at that time in
existence. The rapidity and the order with which this torchlight scene
was acted, without a single accident among the numerous doers, has
excited the wonder of almost all its early historians. One of them does
not hesitate to ascribe the ‘miracle’ to the absolute agency of demons.
For three days and nights these revolting scenes were acted, and every
church in the city shared the fate of the cathedral, which, next to St.
Peter’s at Rome, was the most magnificent in Christendom.
“Ghent, Tournay, Valenciennes, Mechlin, and other cities, were next the
theatres of similar excesses; and in an incredibly short space of time
above 400 churches were pillaged in Flanders and Brabant. Zealand,
Utrecht, and others of the northern provinces, suffered more or less;
Friesland, Guelders, and Holland alone escaped, and even the latter but
in partial instances.
“These terrible scenes extinguished every hope of reconciliation with
the king. An inveterate and interminable hatred was now established
between him and the people; for the whole nation was identified with
deeds which were in reality only shared by the most base, and were
loathsome to all who were enlightened. It was in vain that the patriot
nobles might hope or strive to exculpate themselves; they were sure to
be held criminal either in fact or by implication. No show of loyalty,
no efforts to restore order, no personal sacrifice, could save them from
the hatred or screen them from the vengeance of Philip.
“The affright of the government during the short reign of anarchy and
terror was without bounds.
“Necessity now extorted almost every concession which had been so long
denied to justice and prudence. The confederates were declared absolved
from all responsibility relative to their proceedings. The suppression
of the inquisition, the abolition of the edicts against heresy, and a
permission for the preachings, were simultaneously published.
“Philip was ill at Segovia when he received accounts of the excesses of
the image-breakers, and of the convention concluded with the heretics.
Dispatches from the government, with private advices from Viglius,
Egmont, Mansfield, Megham, de Berlaimont, and others, gave him ample
information as to the real state of things, and they thus strove to
palliate their having acceded to the convention. The emperor even wrote
to his royal nephew, imploring him to treat his wayward subjects with
moderation, and offered his mediation between them.”
But all was in vain. Philip proceeded with his usual dissimulation. His
artifices succeeded in disuniting the Protestants, but hostilities
commenced, and there were victories and losses on both sides; new
preliminaries of reconciliation, falsely intended, and resulting only in
the self-banishment of the patriot lords and an immense emigration;
until at last Philip fully developed his plans by sending Alva to
supersede Marguerite.
“On the 5th May, 1567, this celebrated captain, whose reputation was so
quickly destined to sink into the notoriety of an executioner, began his
memorable march; and on the 22d of August, he, with his two natural
sons, and his veteran army consisting of about 15,000 men, arrived at
the walls of Brussels. The discipline observed on this march was a
terrible fore-warning to the people of the Netherlands of the influence
of the general and the obedience of the troops. They had little chance
of resistance against such soldiers so commanded.
“Several of the Belgian nobility went forward to meet Alva, to render
him the accustomed honours, and endeavour thus early to gain his good
graces. Among them was the infatuated Egmont, who made a present to Alva
of two superb horses, which the latter received with a disdainful air of
condescension. Alva’s first care was the distribution of his
troops—several thousands of whom were placed in Antwerp, Ghent, and
other important towns, and the remainder reserved under his own
immediate orders at Brussels. His approach was celebrated by universal
terror; and his arrival was thoroughly humiliating to the duchess of
Parma. He immediately produced his commission as commander-in-chief of
the royal armies in the Netherlands; but he next showed her another,
which confided to him powers infinitely more extended than any
Marguerite herself had enjoyed, and which proved to her that the almost
sovereign power over the country was virtually vested in him.
“Alva first turned his attention to the seizure of those patriot lords
whose pertinacious infatuation left them within his reach. He summoned a
meeting of all the members of the council of state and the knights of
the order of the Golden Fleece, to deliberate on matters of great
importance. Counts Egmont and Horn attended, among many others; and at
the conclusion of the council they were both arrested (some historians
assert by the hands of Alva and his eldest son), as was also Van
Straeten, burgomaster of Antwerp, and Casambrot, Egmont’s secretary. The
young count of Mansfield appeared for a moment at this meeting; but,
warned by his father of the fate intended him, as an original member of
the confederation, he had time to fly. The count of Hoogstraeten was
happily detained by illness, and thus escaped the fate of his friends.
Egmont and Horn were transferred to the citadel of Ghent, under an
escort of 3000 Spanish soldiers. Several other persons of the first
families were arrested; and those who had originally been taken in arms
were executed without delay.
“The next measures of the new governor were the reëstablishment of the
inquisition, the promulgation of the decrees of the council of Trent,
the revocation of the duchess of Parma’s edicts, and the royal refusal
to recognize the terms of her treaties with the Protestants. He
immediately established a special tribunal, composed of twelve members,
with full powers to inquire into and pronounce judgment on every
circumstance connected with the late troubles. He named himself
president of this council, and appointed a Spaniard, named Vargas, as
vice-president—a wretch of the most diabolical cruelty. Several others
of the judges were also Spaniards, in direct infraction of the
fundamental laws of the country. This council, immortalized by its
infamy, was named by the new governor (for so Alva was in fact, though
not yet in name), the Council of Troubles. By the people it was soon
designated the Council of Blood. In its atrocious proceedings no respect
was paid to titles, contracts, or privileges, however sacred. Its
judgments were without appeal. Every subject of the state was amenable
to its summons; clergy and laity, the first individuals of the country,
as well as the most wretched outcasts of society. Its decrees were
passed with disgusting rapidity and contempt of form. Contumacy was
punished with exile and confiscation. Those who, strong in innocence,
dared to brave a trial, were lost without resource. The accused were
forced to its bar without previous warning. Many a wealthy citizen was
dragged to trial four leagues’ distance, tied to a horse’s tail. The
number of victims was appalling. On one occasion, the town of
Valenciennes alone saw fifty-five of its citizens fall by the hands of
the executioner. Hanging, beheading, quartering, and burning, were the
every-day spectacles. The enormous confiscations only added to the
thirst for gold and blood by which Alva and his satellites were parched.
History offers no example of parallel horrors: for while party vengeance
on other occasions had led to scenes of fury and terror, they arose, in
this instance, from the vilest cupidity and the most cold-blooded
cruelty.
“After _three months_ of such atrocity, Alva, fatigued rather than
satiated with butchery, resigned his hateful functions wholly into the
hands of Vargas, who was chiefly aided by the members Delrio and Dela
Torre. Even at this remote period we cannot repress the indignation
excited by the mention of those monsters, and it is impossible not to
feel satisfaction in fixing upon their names the brand of historic
execration. One of these wretches, called Hesselts, used at length to
sleep during the mock trials of the already doomed victims; and as often
as he was roused up by his colleagues, he used to cry out mechanically,
“To the gibbet! to the gibbet!” so familiar was his tongue with the
sounds of condemnation.
“The despair of the people may be imagined from the fact, that until the
end of the year 1567 their only consolation was the prospect of the
king’s arrival! He never dreamt of coming. Even the delight of feasting
in horrors like these could not conquer his indolence. The good duchess
of Parma,—for so she was in comparison with her successor,—was not long
left to oppose the feeble barrier of her prayers between Alva and his
victims. She demanded her dismissal from the nominal dignity, which was
now but a title of disgrace. Philip granted it readily, accompanied by a
hypocritical letter, a present of 30,000 crowns, and the promise of an
annual pension of 20,000 more. She left Brussels in the month of April,
1568, raised to a high place in the esteem and gratitude of the people,
less by any actual claims from her own conduct, than by its fortuitous
contrast with the infamy of her successor. She retired to Italy, and
died at Naples in the month of February, 1586.
“In addition to the horrors acted by the Council of Blood, Alva
committed many deeds of collateral but minor tyranny: among others, he
issued a decree forbidding, under severe penalties, any inhabitant of
the country to marry without his express permission. His furious edicts
against emigration were attempted to be enforced in vain. Elizabeth of
England opened all the ports of her kingdom to the Flemish refugees, who
carried with them those abundant stores of manufacturing knowledge which
she wisely knew to be the elements of national wealth.
“Alva soon summoned the prince of Orange, his brothers, and all the
confederate lords, to appear before the council and answer to the charge
of high treason. The prince gave a prompt and contemptuous answer,
denying the authority of Alva and his council, and acknowledging for his
judges only the emperor, whose vassal he was, or the king of Spain in
person, as president of the order of the Golden Fleece. The other lords
made replies nearly similar. The trials of each were, therefore,
proceeded on, by contumacy; confiscation of property being an object
almost as dear to the tyrant viceroy as the death of his victims.
Judgments were promptly pronounced against those present or absent,
alive or dead. Witness the case of the unfortunate marquess of Bergues,
who had previously expired at Madrid, as was universally believed, by
poison; and his equally ill-fated colleague in the embassy, the baron
Montigny, was for a while imprisoned at Segovia, where he was soon after
secretly beheaded, on the base pretext of former disaffection.
“The departure of the duchess of Parma having left Alva undisputed as
well as unlimited authority, he proceeded rapidly in his terrible
career. The count of Beuren was seized at Louvain, and sent prisoner to
Madrid; and wherever it was possible to lay hands on a suspected
patriot, the occasion was not neglected. It would be a revolting task to
enter into a minute detail of all the horrors committed, and impossible
to record the names of the victims who so quickly fell before Alva’s
insatiate cruelty. The people were driven to frenzy. Bands of wretches
fled to the woods and marshes; whence, half famished and perishing for
want, they revenged themselves with pillage and murder. Pirates infested
and ravaged the coast; and thus, from both sea and land, the whole
extent of the Netherlands was devoted to carnage and ruin. The
chronicles of Brabant and Holland, chiefly written in Flemish by
contemporary authors, abound in thrilling details of the horrors of this
general desolation, with long lists of those who perished. Suffice it to
say, that on the recorded boast of Alva himself, he caused 18,000
inhabitants of the Low Countries to perish by the hands of the
executioner, during his less than six years’ sovereignty in the
Netherlands.
“The most important of these tragical scenes was now soon to be acted.
The counts Egmont and Horn, having submitted to some previous
interrogatories by Vargas and others, were removed from Ghent to
Brussels, on the 3d of June, under a strong escort. The following day
they passed through the mockery of a trial before the Council of Blood;
and on the 5th, they were both beheaded in the great square of Brussels,
in the presence of Alva, who gloated on the spectacle from a balcony
that commanded the execution. The same day Vanstraelen and Casambrot
shared the fate of their illustrious friends, in the castle of Vilvorde,
with many others, whose names only find a place in the local chronicles
of the times.”
All Europe at last burst out into execration and remonstrance, and an
army was raised in Germany, which William of Orange headed, but which,
after some victories, was dispersed by Alva. A frightful inundation
aided him; for “no suffering could affect his inflexible sternness; and
to such excess did he carry his persecution, that Philip himself began
to be discontented, and reproached him sharply in some of his
despatches. The governor replied in the same strain, and such was the
effect of this correspondence, that Philip resolved to remove him.”
We will not follow the history through the short term of Requesens’s
rule, or even through that of Don John of Austria, and of the Prince of
Parma, though the latter would be well suited to our purpose. The
happiest result of Philip’s obstinacy was the Declaration of National
Independence by the States-General, assembled at Antwerp, who, after one
or two trials of other princes, at length conferred the Sovereignty on
the Prince of Orange.
In the end, the independence of Holland was maintained; but Philip
conferred on Albert of Austria, and Isabella, the sovereignty of the
reconciled southern provinces. Grattan gives a picture of the country at
this time, which contrasts mournfully with the one given of it thirty
years before.
“The reconciled provinces presented the most deplorable spectacle. The
chief towns were almost depopulated. The inhabitants had in a great
measure fallen victims to war, pestilence, and famine. Little inducement
existed to replace by marriage the ravages caused by death, for few men
wished to propagate a race which divine wrath seemed to have marked for
persecution. The thousands of villages which had covered the face of the
country were absolutely abandoned to the wolves, which had so rapidly
increased, that they attacked not merely cattle and children, but
grown-up persons. The dogs, driven abroad by hunger, had become as
ferocious as other beasts of prey, and joined in large packs to hunt
down brutes and men. Neither fields, nor woods, nor roads, were now to
be distinguished by any visible limits. All was an entangled mass of
trees, weeds, and grass. The prices of the necessaries of life were so
high, that people of rank, after selling every thing to buy bread, were
obliged to have recourse to open beggary in the streets of the great
towns.
“From this frightful picture, and the numerous details which imagination
may readily supply, we gladly turn to the contrast afforded by the
northern states. Those we have just described have a feeble hold upon
our sympathies; we cannot pronounce their sufferings to be unmerited.
The want of firmness or enlightenment, which preferred such an existence
to the risk of entire destruction, only heightens the glory of the
people whose unyielding energy and courage gained them so proud a place
among the independent nations of Europe.”
The assassination of the noble William of Orange, at the instigation of
Philip, forms a fitting crime with which to close this section of the
subject.
But before leaving the subject of the Netherlands, we must speak of one
more passage of its history, viz: that which is connected with the name
of Joseph II.
In the mean time, if it did, by its own internal energies, recover
somewhat from the condition in which Philip II. left it, it had suffered
through its connection with Austria, all the horrors of being the
battle-ground of the rival houses of Bourbon and Hapsburgh, especially
during the disastrous ten years of the War of Succession, in Spain.
With Joseph II., a new species of oppression commenced. This emperor’s
character has been made the subject of a great deal of disquisition. He
is the first, the only monarch of his race who ever seems to have
entertained in his brain, the idea of a duty owing from a monarch to the
nations under his sway; if indeed it were not after all rather a notion
of the free grace of benevolence, that impelled him to make a plan of
benefiting the people, under him by a new organization of the large part
of Europe which the centralising selfishness and rapacity of his
ancestors had connected into a heterogenoeous whole. But it is a very
different thing to have an idea of reform, whether it calls itself duty
or beneficence, and to have the character of a reformer. Out of the
heart are the issues of life. Even Coxe (the apologist of the House of
Austria, although he admits _the facts_ which make against that aim of
his work and which have been so largely quoted in this volume) says, in
the very chapter in which he speaks of the specific reforms of Joseph,
and among many others of his abolition of useless tribunals and feudal
offices, which were dilatory and oppressive, “_he yet introduced a still
greater evil, by making the basis of the administration_, THE ABSOLUTE
WILL _of the sovereign, from which there could be_ NO APPEAL.”
Here Coxe strikes upon the Hapsburghs, the character _in the blood_, (or
is it in the spiritual tradition of families?) Without supposing Joseph
consciously insincere in his idea of reform, beneficence, or duty; yet
here we see that he was incapable of the principle, no less from
personal character than from the falseness of his position. He said that
his “greatest honour would be to reign over freemen,”[6] but the point
he could not give up was precisely that of “reigning,” and to _reign_
over _freemen_ is _reductio ad absurdum_. Joseph never used the word
_reign_ in a limited sense. It is only possible, in this work, to give
one illustration of Joseph’s character as a reformer and promoter of the
welfare of his subjects. We shall give it in the words of Coxe himself,
that no one may say it is the one-sided view of a _republican_, who is
acting the part of an advocate rather than of an historian. We give the
whole of Coxe’s hundred and twenty-ninth chapter.
“That rich and fertile territory, usually known by the synonymous
appellations of the Netherlands and the Low Countries, formed part of
the vast dominions which had been attached to the Spanish monarchy.
Conquered by the joint forces of the Maritime Powers, it was
transferred, at the peace of Utrecht, under their guaranty, to the house
of Austria, on condition that the ancient laws, customs, and
constitutions should be inviolably preserved. The late emperor, Charles
VI., was inaugurated on these terms. His daughter, Maria Theresa,
entered into similar engagements on her accession; but during her reign
some changes, with the consent, if not at the request, of the states,
were introduced in the mode of representation in Brabant, and in the
system of taxation. _Joseph gave the same solemn sanction to the
existing constitution._
“Perhaps there was no country on the surface of the globe so small in
extent, under the government of one prince, of which the component parts
differed so widely in manners, government, and laws. Each of the
provinces not only formed a separate sovereignty, enjoying a peculiar
constitution, but the same variation extended to the cities and
districts. In most of the provinces the rights and privileges were
founded on tradition or prescription; but in Brabant and Limburgh they
were detailed in a charter called La Joyeuse Entrée, which contained
fifty-nine articles, a collection of ancient usages and immunities
granted by the former dukes of Brabant. The sovereign was restrained
from conferring charges on any except natives, no inhabitant was to be
tried out of the country, and full liberty of speech was to be allowed
in the assembly of the states, with many other privileges; the charter
was also concluded with a declaration similar to the celebrated clause
in the coronation oath of Andrew II., king of Hungary, that if the
sovereign should cease to observe the articles, his subjects should also
cease to obey him, until the breaches in the constitution were repaired,
and the immunities restored.
“The power of the clergy was almost unbounded; the hierarchy consisted
of one archbishop and seven bishops; there were also a hundred and eight
abbeys, each endowed with annual revenues from 60,000 to 300,000
florins, numerous convents, and the number of religious persons, regular
and secular, of both sexes, amounted to 30,000. The clergy possessed a
considerable part of the landed property, and being the first order of
the states, were enabled to relieve themselves from a considerable part
of the public burdens, by fixing the land-tax at a low rate, and
throwing the imposts on articles of consumption.
“Their predominant influence was extended by the system of public
education, which was subjected to the immediate control of the
hierarchy. The university of Louvain had long been celebrated for its
numerous and richly-endowed colleges, and was formerly distinguished for
learning and discipline. It possessed extraordinary privileges, with the
patronage of numerous benefices, both in the Netherlands and in the
bishopric of Liege; and above all, its academical honours were
indispensable qualifications for the possession of every civil and
ecclesiastical office. The members devoted to the papal see, maintained
a blind adherence to the system of the ancient schoolmen, and proscribed
all innovations adopted in other seminaries.
“In this country, and among a people so tenacious of their customs,
liberties, and religion, Joseph did not merely attempt to reform abuses
and lop superfluous branches, _but even laid the axe to the root of the
constitution itself_. He purposed to force on the natives what he termed
a simple and efficient form of government, and to establish yearly the
same system of ecclesiastical polity, finance, and jurisprudence, as he
had introduced into his hereditary countries. He commenced his
innovations at an early period of his reign by abolishing several
convents, prohibiting processions, jubilees, and confraternities, and
removing statues, images, and offerings from the churches.
“But in 1786 his plans were fully developed. He reformed the system of
public education, by abrogating the privileges of the university of
Louvain, and instituting a new seminary for the study of theology, over
which he placed foreigners as directors, independent of the control of
the bishops, and at which he ordered all youths destined for the church
to pursue their studies. The innovation was vehemently opposed, and in
December, 1786, gave rise to a tumult among the students, which was not
suppressed without a military force. The archbishop of Mechlin, who took
an active part, was summoned to Vienna, and the papal nuncio, who had
countenanced the opposition to the imperial decrees, was abruptly
ordered to quit the Netherlands. This attempt was followed by similar
changes in the civil government.
“The abolition of their venerated constitution excited universal
indignation and alarm among the people of the Netherlands. The clergy
and laity formed a common cause for mutual security. Brabant became the
focus of opposition; the states, in the terms of their constitution,
refused to grant the customary subsidies, until their grievances were
redressed; they forbade the collectors of the revenue to acknowledge the
authority of the new intendants, and presented a spirited remonstrance
to the governors-general. They suppressed also the new seminary at
Louvain, dismissed the foreign professors, invited the other states to
form a general confederacy, and claimed the guaranty of foreign powers,
particularly of France. Their example was followed by the other
provinces. Tumults burst forth in different places, the populace assumed
the national cockade in imitation of the French, and the aspect of the
whole country portended an insurrection.
“On the 28th of May, 1787, Joseph received the first account of the
tumults at Pereslaf, as he was preparing to cross the Dnieper. But
infatuated with his plans, despising the danger, and employed in paying
court to Catherine, he slighted the intelligence, and gave orders that
no letters should be forwarded to him during the journey. He determined,
however, to pursue rigorous measures, and in answer to strong
representations in favour of lenity and caution, replied, “the flame of
rebellion can only be extinguished by blood.” On his return to Pereslaf,
he learnt with astonishment and agitation the progress of the
insurrection; and after taking a hasty leave of Catherine, returned to
Vienna in the beginning of July. New mortifications awaited his arrival.
He was thunderstruck with the intelligence that the Flemings, instead of
awaiting the repeal of the obnoxious edicts, had risen in arms, and
obtained concessions from the governors-general; and that prince Kaunitz
had not only approved these lenient measures, but pledged himself for
the acquiescence of his sovereign.
“Joseph highly reprobated the conduct of the governors-general, and of
his minister, as feeble and pusillanimous, and expressed his inflexible
resolution to enforce the execution of his plans. He ordered troops to
march to the Netherlands; summoned the governors-general and count
Belgiojoso to Vienna; and at the same time despatched an angry mandate
to the contumacious states, commanding them, as a mark of obedience, to
submit their complaints, and apologise for their misconduct at the foot
of the throne.
“The states did not refuse to give the required proof of obedience, but
charged their deputies to express the loyalty of the nation and
represent its grievances. On the 15th of August they were admitted to an
audience, and their chief addressed the emperor in a speech replete with
professions of loyalty, accompanied with firmness and spirit; and, at
the conclusion, they were permitted to read the list of their
grievances.
“The emperor, who had scarcely restrained his indignation during the
recital, replied sternly: ‘The great dissatisfaction which I feel from
all the late proceedings in my Belgic provinces cannot be effaced by a
vain parade of words: nothing but a series of actions can prove the
sincerity of your professions. I have charged prince Kaunitz to
communicate to you in writing, for the information of the states,
certain articles, the execution of which must precede any deliberation.
Your instant and entire obedience is not only necessary to restore all
things to their proper order, but to put a stop to the present
interruption of commerce. I give you daily proofs that the good of my
subjects is the sole object of all my actions, and you must be convinced
that I have no thought of overturning your constitution, as in the
moment of your greatest outrages, and when you have deserved my utmost
indignation, with all the power which I possess, I only reiterate to you
my assurances that I will preserve your liberties.’
“The conditions announced with this parade of liberality, comprised the
restoration of all innovations, the payment of the subsidies, and the
revocation of all orders issued by the states contrary to the views of
the sovereign. In case of an immediate compliance, the emperor promised
that the ancient tribunals and administration of justice should be
restored, that the intendancies should not be established, nor the
abbeys deprived of their privileges. He promised also that the
territorial impost of forty per cent., and the military conscription
should not be introduced into the Netherlands.
“Promises so vague, accompanied by demands so contradictory, did not
satisfy the Belgic states, and they announced their resolution not to
comply with the preliminary articles without full security for the
redress of their grievances. But while the people were expecting the
march of the imperial troops, and were making preparations for
resistance, a sudden change took place in the conduct of Joseph. As he
could not venture to drive his subjects of the Netherlands to
desperation while embarrassed with the Turkish war, he endeavoured to
attain by artifice what he could not effect by force. He therefore
treated the deputies with the greatest condescension, and affected a
willingness to accede to most of their demands. These concessions
produced the desired effect, and the objects in dispute were amicably
arranged. The states announced their compliance with the wishes of their
sovereign, the volunteers laid down their arms, and, in return, the
march of the imperial troops was countermanded. Count Murray issued the
edict which suppressed the new ordinances, and promised that conferences
should be held with the states, to adjust the subjects remaining in
dispute.
“These measures occasioned a temporary restoration of tranquillity. But
it was soon evident that Joseph only suspended his projects to deceive
his subjects. He dismissed Count Murray, who had tranquillised the minds
of the people. The army in the Netherlands was silently augmented, and
the command intrusted to general d’Alton, a man of undaunted and
inflexible temper, united to the spirit of a rigid disciplinarian. Count
Trautmansdorf was appointed minister plenipotentiary ad interim, with
instructions which proved the views and insincerity of the emperor. He
was ordered to consider the declaration of count Murray as extorted by
fear, and consequently invalid; to hold no conference with the states on
the subjects in dispute; to remove gradually all disaffected persons
from their employments; but above all, to effect a complete reform in
the supreme council of Brabant, ‘without which,’ to use the words of the
emperor, ‘nothing could be done.’ He was no less positively enjoined to
commence his administration with the re-establishment of the general
seminary at Louvain.
“On the arrival of Trautmansdorf at Brussels, in October, 1787, he found
the people in a state of general agitation, and with suspicions
naturally inspired by the prevarications of the sovereign, watching all
his proceedings with a jealous eye. He therefore suspended the execution
of the decree for the suppression of the university during three months,
and gained great popularity by this act of indulgence. The other demands
were obtained without difficulty, and the subsidies which had been
refused unanimously voted, with a declaration that this compliance was a
testimony of gratitude for the appointment of a minister so agreeable to
the nation.
“Joseph, too ardent and arbitrary to listen to the dictates of prudence
or justice, disapproved the suspension, and issued peremptory orders to
establish the general seminary, whatever might be the consequence. His
views were warmly supported by general d’Alton, who was eager to bring
the military force into action, and boasted that he could subjugate the
whole Netherlands in six weeks. Trautmansdorf, reluctantly fulfilling an
order of which he deplored the fatal consequences, commanded the rector
and other members of the university to submit to the plan of reform. The
whole body appealing to the council of Brabant, he required the latter
to enforce the imperial decree, allowed only two hours for deliberation,
and threatened, in case of refusal, to employ force, and revoke the
recent concessions. At the same time d’Alton drew out a body of troops,
with artillery, near the house in which the council was assembled, and
sent a detachment through the streets to awe the populace. The states,
however, still undaunted, disdained to return an answer, and only
ordered the message to be entered on their journals. The detachment
which patrolled the streets being insulted, fired on the populace; a
tumult ensued, in which six persons were killed and several wounded, and
d’Alton poured a body of troops into the Town-house. But at this awful
crisis Trautmansdorf again suspended the rising commotion by ceasing to
press his demands, and by declaring that the general had drawn out the
troops without his concurrence.
“Intelligence of these proceedings being transmitted to Vienna, the
emperor rewarded the officer who had ordered the troops to fire, and
encouraged d’Alton to persist in coercive measures; yet, with the same
duplicity as before, he held forth to the natives the offer of a general
amnesty and complete restitution of his favour. The governor-general,
who returned at this juncture, found the country in a state of apparent
tranquillity, and the people impressed with hopes that Joseph had at
length relinquished his impolitic designs. But within a few days after
this public declaration, the university was again closed, the rector
banished for three years, and the refractory members expelled; while a
body of troops, stationed in Louvain, slaughtered many of the
inhabitants, who assembled to deplore the overthrow of that university
which had been their pride and support. The general seminary was
reëstablished; the colleges of Mechlin and Antwerp, celebrated for the
education of youth destined to the ecclesiastical profession, were
likewise closed, and the same measures of coercion employed against the
inhabitants.
“Soon after these violent proceedings, the states of the different
provinces assembled to grant the ordinary subsidies, and notwithstanding
the causes of dissatisfaction, all complied with the usual custom except
those of Hainault and Brabant. Their refusal drew from the emperor a
severe address, in which he threatened to revoke the amnesty, to
prosecute all who had taken part in the late troubles, to annul their
privileges, and to abrogate the Joyous Entry. The states of Brabant,
alarmed by these threats, sent on the 26th of January, 1789, a petition
to deprecate the anger of the sovereign, and procured the suspension of
the impending punishment. Those of the Hainault, persisting in their
resolution, their assembly was dissolved on the 31st by the military
force, their chiefs arrested, and their constitution abolished.
Confident that this severe example would intimidate the refractory
states of Brabant, Joseph announced his intention to make a change in
their government, which should prevent a repetition of their contumacy,
and secure the regular grant of a permanent subsidy, by extending the
right of representation to other towns and districts.
“In the present temper of the country such an arbitrary project excited
general indignation; and the whole province became a scene of civil
commotion.
“While Brabant was thus divided by internal feuds, Joseph seized the
opportunity to overthrow the constitution. By his command, Trautmansdorf
summoned an extraordinary meeting of the states, and required their
concurrence in the proposition for increasing the third order, and
establishing a permanent subsidy. The deputies, however, boldly refused
their consent, exclaiming with one accord, ‘though the emperor may
dissolve us, we will not violate a constitution which we have solemnly
pledged ourselves to preserve.’ In consequence of this refusal, the
edict was enforced, the assembly dissolved, and the Joyous Entry
annulled. The deputies repaired to the hall of the council of Brabant,
and protested against these proceedings; but their protests were
disregarded, and on the ensuing morning three imperial edicts proclaimed
the dissolution of the ancient constitution, the new arrangement for the
administration of justice, and various alterations in the imposition and
collection of the taxes.
“Joseph fondly considered this event as the termination of the struggle;
and d’Alton reëchoed his sentiments when he said, ‘the 18th of June is a
happy epoch for the house of Austria; for on that day, the victory of
Kolin saved the monarchy, and the emperor became master of the
Netherlands.’ But neither the infatuated monarch nor his sanguine
general were acquainted with the resolution and sentiments of a free
nation. Although the presence of the military prevented an immediate
tumult, this apparent tranquillity was the calm which precedes the
storm. The licentious spirit, which at this time agitated France, spread
like an electric shock among a people who were provoked by repeated
insults and oppressions; the patriots daily augmenting in numbers
exulted in the hope of being assisted by their neighbours, and of
forming a similar constitution on the ruins of the Austrian government.
Vengeance and retaliation were denounced against the royalists; the
walls, churches, and houses were covered with placards, calling on the
people to imitate the example set by the citizens of Paris.
“Trautmansdorf, who had before averted the danger by prudence and
lenity, was now anxious to meet it with firmness. Conscious that the
imperial troops, who scarcely amounted to 20,000, were too few to awe a
whole nation, he earnestly requested an accession of force. His
apprehensions were ridiculed by d’Alton, who boasted that after sending
a battalion of each regiment to the army in Hungary, he should still be
able to maintain internal tranquillity; and Joseph reluctantly
despatched only a single regiment, ‘not because he deemed it necessary,
but to encourage a timid government.’ The forebodings of the minister
were too soon realised. Scarcely a month elapsed after the dissolution
of the ancient constitution, before the people tumultuously rose, in
various districts released the arrested persons, attacked the military,
and plundered the houses of the magistrates. In these commotions many
lives were lost at Tirlemont, Louvain, Antwerp, and Mons, before
tranquillity could be restored, and at Diest, the patriots led on by the
monks, expelled the imperial troops and the magistrates. Brussels being
likewise the scene of a momentary effervescence, the minister proposed
to disarm the citizens; but this measure was rejected by d’Alton, who,
presuming on the force of military discipline, contemptuously exclaimed,
‘If they want arms, I will supply them.’
“At this period many young men of Brussels, who had uttered seditious
speeches, were sent without trial to serve in the army of Hungary; and
in the agitated state of the public mind, this arbitrary act spread
through the nation indignant and sullen despondency. Emigrations took
place from all quarters; the fugitives repairing to the frontiers of
Holland and Liege, joined those who had quitted their country in the
preceding troubles, and formed a numerous body, ready to act offensively
against the government. They found an able chief in Van-der-Noot, a
factious advocate of Brussels, who had taken an active part during the
troubles, and at whose instigation the third estate had refused to grant
the annual subsidy. Being arrested and condemned for treason, he had in
1787 escaped into England. After ineffectually endeavouring to obtain
for his countrymen the protection and assistance of the British cabinet,
he repaired to Berlin. Receiving from the king of Prussia only dubious
promises, he went to Holland, where he was permitted to reside under a
feigned name, by the connivance of the Dutch government, which on this
occasion imitated the conduct of Joseph towards the exiles in the late
revolution. He returned in 1789 to Breda, whither he drew the archbishop
of Mechlin, the abbot of Tongaloo, Crumpiper, the chancellor of Brabant,
many of the nobility of Brussels, almost all the members from the
states, and Van Eupen, canon of Antwerp. By their efforts, the emigrants
were disciplined, distributed in different parts of the neighbouring
country, arms and ammunition secured, and a force amounting to 10,000
men organised and appointed. A committee was established at Breda for
the regulation of their proceedings, and their views seconded by another
secret committee at Brussels.
“In the midst of this ferment, the emperor strangely blending
conciliation and severity, published a decree reëstablishing the
university of Louvain, in all its rights and privileges. This ridiculous
versatility excited contempt instead of giving satisfaction, and
produced no effect in allaying internal disaffection, or checking the
efforts of the party in Holland. A regular plan of hostilities was
digested by the chiefs of the insurgents, and Van-der-Mersch, an officer
who had signalised himself in the imperial service during the seven
years’ war, was appointed commander. Van-der-Noot assumed the title of
plenipotentiary agent of the people of Brabant, and a manifesto, under
his signature, was published ‘in the name of the clergy and third estate
of Brabant, in union with many of the nobility, renouncing their
allegiance and declaring that they no longer considered Joseph as their
sovereign.’ This manifesto, as a declaration of war, was sent to the
government, and followed by the march of the patriot army into Brabant.
“With a view to counteract its effects, the government of Brussels
ordered it to be burnt by the common executioner, and published a long
vindication of the emperor; urging that although he had abrogated the
Joyous Entry, yet he had confirmed the essential principles of the
constitution, the security of persons and property. To awe the
disaffected within the walls, many persons of the first rank were
arrested on a charge of conspiracy, the gates were shut, palisadoes
planted on the fortifications, the citizens disarmed, and active
preparations made for defence.
“Meanwhile hostilities commenced. A party of patriots, marching from the
neighbourhood of Breda, surprised, on the 25th of October, the forts of
Lillo and Liefgenshoek, on the Scheld, made the scanty garrison
prisoners, and conveyed the guardship to Bergen-op-Zoom. Another body of
3000 men, under the command of Van-der-Mersch, penetrated to Turnhout,
and though many were armed only with bludgeons, pitchforks, and staves,
and without cannon, they repulsed the imperial general Schroeder, who
attacked them with 1500 men. This unexpected victory, proclaimed a
miracle by the monks, increased the spirit and numbers of the
insurgents, while it disheartened the royalists. But on the approach of
general d’Arberg with 7000 men, the patriots retired within the Dutch
territories, and concealing their arms, as usual, dispersed themselves
in Dutch Brabant and the neighbouring districts of Liege, waiting for a
more favourable opportunity to renew their incursions.
“While the imperial general remained at Hogstraten, the insurgents made
a new and more effectual attempt on the side of Flanders. A body
despatched by Van-der-Mersch approached Ghent, seized two of the gates,
and forcing their way into the town, were joined by the burghers with
cannon and ammunition; the garrison of 1200 men was overpowered by
numbers, driven across the Scheld, and blockaded in the barracks of the
fort of St. Pierre. D’Arberg with 3000 men hastened to the scene of
action, and occupied the citadel; but he was unable to stem the torrent
of revolt. Bruges and Courtray declared for the rebels; new succours
poured into Ghent; the fort of St. Pierre was stormed, the troops in the
barracks made prisoners, and d’Arberg himself forced to retire in the
night to Brussels. All Flanders was instantly emancipated; the states
assembling at Ghent, in November, 1789, published a declaration of
independence, and invited the other provinces to form a general
alliance. Terror and despondency spread to the seat of government, the
governors-general quitted Brussels; d’Alton and Trautmansdorf, whose
disputes were increased by the impending dangers, acted without concert;
d’Alton concentrated his troops to make a last effort for the
preservation of the capital, Trautmansdorf liberated the arrested
persons, restored arms to the citizens, and issued no less than
twenty-two declarations in the name of the emperor, hoping to conciliate
the people by suppressing the seminary at Antwerp, reëstablishing the
Joyous Entry, and declaring an amnesty.
“Of this confusion and alarm the patriot chiefs availed themselves with
equal vigour, skill, and promptitude. Vander-Mersch, assembling a body
of insurgents, made a new irruption into Brabant, seized Diest, and
advancing to Tirlemont, threatened Louvain. D’Alton instantly marched
against the rebels, but pressed by the insurgents of Flanders, and
unwilling to risk a battle which, if unfortunate, would have left him no
hope of retreat, he suddenly concluded, with the acquiescence of
Trautmansdorf, an armistice for ten days, which was to be provisionally
extended, with the consent of the states of Brabant. In this interval he
hoped to turn his forces against Flanders, but every moment of delay was
fatal to the imperial cause; the patriots anticipated his designs,
seduced whole troops of his soldiers, augmented their party by new
accessions of force, and organised an insurrection at Brussels, which
terminated the struggle. On the 8th of December the women and children
endeavored to demolish the intrenchments, and tore up the palisadoes.
The people assumed a national cockade; the streets resounded with the
cries of “Long live the patriots! Long live Van-der-Noot!” The soldiers
began to desert, and two companies of the regiment of Murray at once
joined the patriots.
“On the 11th, an officer imprudently attempting to snatch a cockade from
the hat of a burgher, a tumult ensued, and the inhabitants flew to arms.
The imperial troops, separated and discouraged, were attacked by
different bands of the populace, assisted by the deserters, and, after a
conflict which continued the greater part of the night, were driven into
the upper town. D’Alton, fallen from his former presumption, dreading
the approach of Van-der-Mersch on one side, and the Flemish army on the
other, doubtful of his troops, who were reduced to 5000 men, surrounded
by secret and declared enemies, was happy to secure his retreat by a
capitulation. He quitted Brussels on the evening of the 12th, leaving
the cannon, military chests and stores in the hands of the insurgents,
and took the route to Luxemburgh, pillaging, plundering, and wasting the
country as he passed. The example of the capital was followed by the
other towns; the imperial troops successively retired from Antwerp,
Louvain, and Mechlin into Luxemburgh, and the governor-general Bender,
assuming the command, prepared to defend that duchy, which alone
continued faithful to the house of Austria.
“The news of the revolution affected Joseph to an alarming degree, and
made a deep impression on his mind, already weakened by bodily and
mental infirmities. He burst into tears, complaining bitterly that he
had been deceived by the intelligence from Brussels; he acknowledged his
total inability to devise measures for the recovery of those valuable
dominions, and demanded the advice of Kaunitz, whom he had yet scarcely
deigned to consult on these momentous events. By his suggestions he
consented to adopt conciliatory measures, and count Philip Cobenzl, who
was supposed to possess great influence in the Netherlands, was
despatched to Brussels to tranquillise the people, by revoking the late
edicts, and restoring their privileges. These measures were, however,
adopted too late. When Cobenzl reached the frontier, all the provinces,
except Luxemburgh, were in the possession of the insurgents, the
congress was convoked to form a new constitution, and his overtures were
rejected with disdain.
“In this moment of distress Joseph found no resource. He in vain
appealed to the empire; he in vain obtained a circular letter from the
pope to the prelates of the Netherlands recommending them to return to
obedience. Embarrassed by the Turkish war, deriving no assistance from
the courts of Versailles and Petersburgh, his sole allies on the
Continent, he was reduced to the alternative of courting the
interposition of Prussia, his inveterate enemy, England, whom he had
betrayed and insulted, and Holland, whom he had despised and humbled.
His haughty spirit was broken by calamity and disease; he grasped even
at the shadow of a hope, and was eager to embrace any measure, however
degrading, for the recovery of the Netherlands, even though he should
reduce them again to that dependence on the Maritime Powers from which
it had been his boast to emancipate them. He hoped to conciliate Prussia
by cessions on the side of Poland; he trusted that England would gladly
tender her assistance to obtain the renewal of the Barrier Treaty; he
relied on the jealousy which the independence of the Netherlands would
excite in Holland; he flattered himself that the chiefs of the different
provinces would return to their allegiance, and accept a free
constitution under the guaranty of the triple alliance. But he was again
deceived. England refused to interfere in a cause which was opposed by
her great continental ally; Holland beheld his distress with
indifference, if not with satisfaction; Frederic William, who was
maturing a grand system for the reduction of Austria, fomented the
discontents in the Netherlands, and exerted all his efforts to inflame
that hostile spirit which pervaded every part of the hereditary
dominions, and was rising against Joseph in the different courts of
Europe.”
We have preferred taking this account from Coxe, not only because we
wish to strengthen our argument for the justice of the title of our book
by giving, whenever it is possible, the testimony of the conservative
historian, who cannot be suspected of colouring too darkly the acts of
what he considers the legitimate government; but because we think Mr.
Grattan has not done justice to the Netherlanders in his account of the
same transactions. In his sympathy with the special reforms of Joseph,
(his toleration acts, and abolition of old evils,) he overlooks the fact
that all along he was breaking the highest of all laws, and that which
entered in to the very fountains of the nation’s life, by setting aside
the _constitutional rights_ which were born with their birth, and which
can never be arbitrarily abolished by any foreign power without fatal
effects. Constitutional reform must be always a Phœnix death-birth. All
Joseph’s political philosophy was a mere maggot of his brain, fevered
into being by the exciting atmosphere of the eighteenth century, an
influence wholly external; it had no part or lot with that eternal
progressive force, which develops itself through the heart of men, and
acts because it must, in spite of all individual fancies, being rarely
understood in full by the very individuals by whom it manifests itself
the most strongly. George Washington indeed seems to have acted in sight
of his principle in his majestic self-abnegations, although we are
unable to pronounce with entire certainty on those secrets of the
individual heart and soul, which, in his case, were covered with such a
veil of natural and habitual reserve, as no friend was intimate enough
to dare lift up. Was it that there was too much of the future there, to
be appreciable in those days, by eyes profane?
It may be that as the race makes progress, there is a growing
recognition between those irresistible impulses of humanity, which are
deeper than all selfish emotions or volitions, and those higher ideas,
which correspond to them in the intellectual spheres; and hence a
consciousness, which is not weakening but strengthening, (inasmuch as it
repudiates all personalities,) may show itself in the great men of the
present and future. When Washington, risking everything upon a certain
battle, and being asked what was to be done if it was lost, calmly
replied, ‘it will then be necessary to retreat (he meant the people and
not merely the army) behind the Alleghanies, and defend ourselves
there;’ there was in his heart, if not in his head, the truth, that
there is nothing impossible to him that wills the right. Kossuth, sixty
years later, carries this grand will into the intellectual sphere, and
explains the coincidence of absolute justice, not only with this
instinct of the brave, but with interest—well understood, yet without
lowering the first to the limitations of the last, and thereby losing
the power to remove mountains, which comes only from the principle which
is the evidence of things unseen.
Reform is a great thing. It must work from within outward. If it
commences on the outside, while the principle that made all the abuses
is unchanged, as in the case of Joseph II., the bad is made worse, and
the futile agent is the first victim of the inevitable reaction. But
there is some reason to believe that the day of reform is dawning,—when
the old world—and the old world’s law—is brought face to face with the
new world, almost unconscious of any principle but self-help, and the
thorn-crowned martyr of the one, who represents the outraged
individuality and rights of nations, explains the meaning of the hour to
the other, by the words: ‘Thou hast as much religion as humanity—_and no
more_,’ adding, with the supreme grace of self-abnegation, ‘the works
which I do, and the words that I speak, are not mine, but His who sent
me.’ It is indeed an era in the political world, when not only the
experienced victim of the old system, but the nonchalant, unsentimental,
self-asserting politician of the new, unite in _seeing_, to say nothing
of declaring that nations have the same interest in international law,
which individuals have in the laws of their country.
When the individuality of nations, and the law that at once
individualizes and unites them, is promulgated in the light of
reason,[7] in which flourish all the ‘humanities’ of science, art,
virtue, and love, as well as in the dark depths of instinctive feeling,
whose issues are war, and all terrible retributions—there is some ground
for hope that the nations may
“keep the heights
Which they are competent to gain.”
We will here observe that it is plain from the foregoing and the
subsequent pages, that the Anglo-Saxon race is not the only one whose
life has blossomed out into constitutional liberty. Other races have put
forth the same forms of life quite as vigorously, and as broadly, and if
we are to escape the same disastrous chances as have for three hundred
years sunk them into a _life-in-death_, it will be from no inherent
superiority in the germs of ours, but because the age of the world is
come which corresponds to that period of the life of man, when thought
meets feeling, and, recognising each other, instinct may become for
evermore one with wisdom.
Is it not possible that this national integrity and international
justice and love, is the ultimate attainment of humanity on earth; the
fullest realisation in this sphere of the prophetic vision, and the
poet’s dream; while the individual men which compose the nations, are
ever to exhibit that personal imperfection which is but the necessary
correlative of a sublimer destiny than may be within the scope of the
finite mind to comprehend? Could this be established, a vast deal of the
finest intellect and character, whose energies are now dissipated in
visionary theories of personal perfection, would be concentrated to
organise a perfect political system, which can only be just for each
when it is for all; and without which in each nation, no personal
integrity can be unfolded to become the subject of culture.
In considering the crimes of the house of Austria, we must not forget
Poland, although here the guilt is shared by the Brandenburgs and
Romanoffs.
Ruthière’s, “Anarchie de Pologne” gives, in an entertaining form, a
tolerably fair picture of its character, and the working of what an
absolutist calls its _no-government_. That a civilized country, he says,
should go on for centuries, improving in all human culture, _without a
government_, shows the extraordinary goodness of the people. It were
well if this pleasant book, which contains also the most authentic
account of Catherine II.’s accession to the Russian throne, were
translated into English. But a grave work, and the highest authority
respecting Poland, is Lelewel’s history, also yet untranslated. We are
sorry that our limits allow us to give but a few observations to correct
some current errors. It has been the policy of the European governments
around Poland, to misrepresent, as well as to interfere with, the
operations of its constitution. This necessarily arose from a principle
of self-protection; nothing was so disastrous for them, as the peace,
prosperity, and progress of a republican country in their midst. All the
motives which impelled to the League of Cambray, would operate to this
end respecting Poland, whose partition was the supreme act of the
diplomacy which, as Sismondi said, began in Europe in 1508.
Poland was never a feudal country. The nobles and peasants are of the
same race; and service in war, or a university education availed to give
nobility to the child of the meanest peasant. The veto power, by the
abuse of which the country was made weak, when it needed to be strongest
against foreign influence, was only developed into disastrous action
through foreign influence, brought to bear upon the Diet; because, as
has been already intimated, it was a life and death interest of the
surrounding despotisms to prevent the national progress and purification
of a government in their midst, essentially republican, although its
chief magistrate was named king. The same veto power existed in the
Arragonese constitution, and never seemed to have had any irregular
action. Of course, this, or almost any other safety-valve of liberty,
may be used for the worst end, as soon as a nation is vitiated by bad
faith within, whether of indigenous growth, or of foreign planting. In
the case of Poland, it is obvious, from Ruthière, that it was of foreign
planting.
But our object is not political disquisition, but history. When the
Poles first began to elect kings from foreign nations, it was partly in
order that the equality of their own families should be preserved, and
some should have the prestige of sovereignty connected with them. At the
first election, after the death of the last Jagellon, Maximilian II.
endeavoured to obtain the crown for his son Ernest, but Henry of Anjou
was chosen. After the latter abandoned Poland, to succeed his brother in
France, Maximilian made new efforts for Ernest, and was himself chosen
by one party. This was no great gratification to him, for the limited
monarchy of Poland had few charms for him. While he hesitated about the
_pacta conventa_, his more active opponent, Stephen Batory, hastened
into Poland, and signed this capitulation, which so greatly increased
his party that he was forcibly chosen, although Maximilian did at length
accede to the _pacta conventa_, and, secure of the Czar, appealed to the
empire, and endeavoured to excite the kings of Denmark and Sweden
against his rival, “whom he stigmatized,” says Coxe, “as a vassal of the
Turks.” But death interrupted his operations on the 12th of October,
1576, and Stephen Batory was elected.
The next Polish election, in which the house of Austria interfered, was
in the beginning of the eighteenth century, when the Emperor, Charles
VI., with the aid of the Czarina, placed Augustus II. upon the throne,
on condition of his giving his sanction to the Pragmatic Sanction. By
this intrigue, the choice of the nation, Stanislaus Leczynski, was set
aside. This was in 1720.
In 1763, on the death of Augustus II., Maria Theresa encouraged his son
Xavier to become a candidate for the crown of Poland, in opposition to
Stanislaus Poniatowski and other Polish noblemen. Through the powerful
influence of Catherine II., Stanislaus was certain of success. But Maria
Theresa, seeing that by this a preponderance was given to Russian
influence in Poland, published a manifesto, declaring that the Poles had
the right of appointing a sovereign by a free and voluntary election,
and, with the aid of France, prepared to second the claims of the Saxon
house. Catherine, on the other hand, gained the king of Prussia, and the
Porte, and they jointly issued a proclamation exhorting, “or rather,”
says Coxe, “commanding the Poles to elect none but a Piast for their
king.” A Russian army enforced this, and Stanislaus Augustus was
elected. Maria Theresa, ill-seconded by France, concluded to push the
matter no further.
The wrongs of Poland are due not wholly to the House of Austria. Prussia
and Russia were indeed the principal aggressors. Frederic the Great
undoubtedly first projected the partition, but his first step was to
gain Austria, because he was aware that Russia was so sure of the whole
of the prey, she would oppose dismemberment. The emperor Joseph I. went
to Neiss, to negotiate with him upon the subject. Two years after, a
second interview took place, and the map of Poland was laid out before
them, when the limits of the respective portions were adjusted, the
largest share being assigned to Russia, in order to secure her
concurrence. The Austrian and Prussian troops entered Poland on the
pretence of preventing the plague, and Maria Theresa first presented her
vague claims on certain Polish districts, on the specious pretext of
protecting them from Russia and Prussia. The Austrian troops first
occupied sixteen towns of the county of Zips; and upon this, Frederic
proposed to Catherine the dismemberment; and the respective portions
were specified at St. Petersburgh, in February, 1772. “Maria Theresa
felt or _affected to feel_,” says Coxe, “great scruples of conscience,
in participating in the disgrace of this infamous transaction; but she
was not the less exorbitant in her demands, and extended her claims
almost to the half of Poland.” She afterwards made a merit of yielding
something, but retained Red Russia, Galicia, and parts of the
palatinates of Cracow, Sandomir, Lublen, Bezk, Volhynia, and Podolia, a
fertile and extensive country, with a population of ten millions and a
half, and the valuable salt mines of Wieliczka, whose revenue to the
republic was 90,000 pounds a year. This territory was consolidated and
annexed to the Austrian dominions under the ancient appellation of the
kingdoms of Galicia and Lodomeria.
The plunder of these countries by Maria Theresa’s troops was immense.
Even Catherine of Russia reproached the Court of Vienna for the
exactions of their troops, and extorted from the emperor a humiliating
disavowal of their conduct. When we read of the wagon-loads of gold,
among which were the spoils of churches, candelabras of the size of a
grown man, of solid gold, carried into Austria, we are led to ask,
whence came this prodigious wealth? and this question leads us to
remember that from time immemorial there had been a land trade extending
into Persia and other rich Asiatic territories, and that the
constitutional law, prohibiting Poles from engaging on either side in a
sectarian war, had made the fertile plains of Poland the granary of
Europe, during the terrible religious wars that raged over the West of
Europe in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Poland, too, from its
constitutional laws of toleration, was the asylum for the persecuted
merchants and mechanics of the Jewish and Protestant sects, driven for
many centuries from other more bigoted countries.
In giving an account of the state of the several parts of Poland, after
the partition, Lelewel, having enumerated oppressions common to all of
them, makes the following remarks:
“There was, however, this difference between the Austrian government and
the Prussian, that the latter, more fond of peace, more economical,
favoured the propagation of knowledge, augmented the number of primary
schools, carried instruction to the poorest, and tolerated the
manifestations of national sentiments, that the Poles did not know how
to repress. Without speaking of liberty, the Prussian government
respected individual liberty and property. Justice was equally
administered to nobles and peasants, without distinction of class; both
were subjected to military service. No exception was made except in
favour of the Jews. At Warsaw they were permitted to have a national
theatre; the polytechnic society, founded by some patriots for the end
of conserving the Polish nationality, was authorised by the king of
Prussia. It was not so in Galicia. There the emperor proclaimed the
liberty of the peasants, forgetting or ignoring that long before the
fall of Poland, the quatriennial or constituent diet had guaranteed it
to them. But he erected it into a principle that everything belonged to
the emperor, property and persons, and that he could dispose of them
according to his good pleasure, as of things that were his. Occupied by
continual wars with France, the emperor exhausted his estates, and
especially Galicia, by exactions. Whoever could bear arms, whether
Gipsies, Jews, or Christians, were enrolled, and forced to serve as
soldiers, under German counts and barons. His enormous imposts not only
took away their money, but forced them to give up their landed property.
To repair the immense losses of his campaigns, he had recourse to paper
money of which he reduced the value afterwards, or suppressed it
altogether; and he circulated copper money qualified with silver, and
forced it to be received as silver. In short, it was an odious
spoliation and a degrading slavery. In order to attach the magistrates
and principal inhabitants to himself, he sold to them titles of counts
and barons; as the price of this imperial complaisance they were obliged
to pay very dear.