in this campaign. The Prince crossed the Rhine at Saint Feit, a village
belonging to himself. He descended along the banks as far as the
neighbourhood of Cologne. Then, after hovering in apparent uncertainty
about the territories of Juliers and Limburg, he suddenly, on a bright
moonlight night, crossed the Meuse with his whole army, in the
neighbourhood of Stochem. The operation was brilliantly effected.
A compact body of cavalry, according to the plan which had been more than
once adopted by Julius Caesar, was placed in the midst of the current,
under which shelter the whole army successfully forded the river.
The Meuse was more shallow than usual, but the water was as high as the
soldiers' necks. This feat was accomplished on the night and morning of
the 4th and 5th of October. It was considered so bold an achievement
that its fame spread far and wide. The Spaniards began to tremble at the
prowess of a Prince whom they had affected to despise. The very fact of
the passage was flatly contradicted. An unfortunate burgher at Amsterdam
was scourged at the whipping-post, because he mentioned it as matter of
common report. The Duke of Alva refused to credit the tale when it was
announced to him. "Is the army of the Prince of Orange a flock of wild
geese," he asked, "that it can fly over rivers like the Meuse?"
Nevertheless it was true. The outlawed, exiled Prince stood once more on
the borders of Brabant, with an army of disciplined troops at his back.
His banners bore patriotic inscriptions. "Pro Lege, Rege, Grege," was
emblazoned upon some. A pelican tearing her breast to nourish her young
with her life-blood was the pathetic emblem of others. It was his
determination to force or entice the Duke of Alva into a general
engagement. He was desirous to wipe out the disgrace of Jemmingen.
Could he plant his victorious standard thus in the very heart of the
country, he felt that thousands would rally around it. The country would
rise almost to a man, could he achieve a victory over the tyrant, flushed
as he was with victory, and sated with blood.
With banners flying, drums beating, trumpets sounding, with all the pomp
and defiance which an already victorious general could assume, Orange
marched into Brabant, and took up a position within six thousand paces of
Alva's encampment. His plan was at every hazard to dare or to decoy his
adversary into the chances of a stricken field. The Governor was
entrenched at a place called Keiserslager, which Julius Caesar had once
occupied. The city of Maestricht was in his immediate neighbourhood,
which was thus completely under his protection, while it furnished him
with supplies. The Prince sent to the Duke a herald, who was to propose
that all prisoners who might be taken in the coming campaign should be
exchanged instead of being executed. The herald, booted and spurred,
even as he had dismounted from his horse, was instantly hanged. This was
the significant answer to the mission of mercy. Alva held no parley with
rebels before a battle, nor gave quarter afterwards.
In the meantime, the Duke had carefully studied the whole position of
affairs, and had arrived at his conclusion. He was determined not to
fight. It was obvious that the Prince would offer battle eagerly,
ostentatiously, frequently, but the Governor was resolved never to accept
the combat. Once taken, his resolution was unalterable. He recognized
the important difference between his own attitude at present, and that in
which he had found himself during the past summer in Friesland. There a
battle had been necessary, now it was more expedient to overcome his
enemy by delay. In Friesland, the rebels had just achieved a victory
over the choice troops of Spain. Here they were suffering from the
stigma of a crushing defeat. Then, the army of Louis Nassau was swelling
daily by recruits, who poured in from all the country round. Now,
neither peasant nor noble dared lift a finger for the Prince. The army
of Louis had been sustained by the one which his brother was known to be
preparing. If their movements had not been checked, a junction would
have been effected. The armed revolt would then have assumed so
formidable an aspect, that rebellion would seem, even for the timid,
a safer choice than loyalty. The army of the Prince, on the contrary,
was now the last hope of the patriots: The three by which it had been
preceded had been successively and signally vanquished.
Friesland, again, was on the outskirts of the country. A defeat
sustained by the government there did not necessarily imperil the
possession of the provinces. Brabant, on the contrary, was the heart of
the Netherlands. Should the Prince achieve a decisive triumph then and
there, he would be master of the nation's fate. The Viceroy knew himself
to be odious, and he reigned by terror. The Prince was the object of the
people's idolatry, and they would rally round him if they dared.
A victory gained by the liberator over the tyrant, would destroy the
terrible talisman of invincibility by which Alva governed. The Duke had
sufficiently demonstrated his audacity in the tremendous chastisement
which he had inflicted upon the rebels under Louis. He could now afford
to play that scientific game of which he was so profound a master,
without risking any loss of respect or authority. He was no enthusiast.
Although he doubtless felt sufficiently confident of overcoming the
Prince in a pitched battle, he had not sufficient relish for the joys
of contest to be willing to risk even a remote possibility of defeat.
His force, although composed of veterans and of the best musketeers and
pikemen in Europe, was still somewhat inferior in numbers to that of his
adversary. Against the twenty thousand foot and eight thousand, horse of
Orange, he could oppose only fifteen or sixteen thousand foot and fifty-
five hundred riders. Moreover, the advantage which he had possessed in
Friesland, a country only favorable to infantry, in which he had been
stronger than his opponent, was now transferred to his new enemy. On the
plains of Brabant, the Prince's superiority in cavalry was sure to tell.
The season of the year, too, was an important element in the calculation.
The winter alone would soon disperse the bands of German mercenaries,
whose expenses Orange was not able to support, even while in active
service. With unpaid wages and disappointed hopes of plunder, the rebel
army would disappear in a few weeks as totally as if defeated in the open
field. In brief, Orange by a victory would gain new life and strength,
while his defeat could no more than anticipate, by a few weeks, the
destruction of his army, already inevitable. Alva, on the contrary,
might lose the mastery of the Netherlands if unfortunate, and would gain
no solid advantage if triumphant. The Prince had everything to hope, the
Duke everything to fear, from the result of a general action.
The plan, thus deliberately resolved upon, was accomplished with
faultless accuracy. As a work of art, the present campaign of Alva
against Orange was a more consummate masterpiece than the, more brilliant
and dashing expedition into Friesland. The Duke had resolved to hang
upon his adversary's skirts, to follow him move by move, to check him at
every turn, to harass him in a hundred ways, to foil all his enterprises,
to parry all his strokes, and finally to drive him out of the country,
after a totally barren campaign, when, as he felt certain, his ill-paid
hirelings would vanish in all directions, and leave their patriot Prince
a helpless and penniless adventurer. The scheme thus sagaciously
conceived, his adversary, with all his efforts, was unable to circumvent.
The campaign lasted little more than a month. Twenty-nine times the
Prince changed his encampment, and at every remove the Duke was still
behind him, as close and seemingly as impalpable as his shadow. Thrice
they were within cannon-shot of each other; twice without a single trench
or rampart between them. The country people refused the Prince supplies,
for they trembled at the vengeance of the Governor. Alva had caused the
irons to be removed from all the mills, so that not a bushel of corn
could be ground in the whole province. The country thus afforded but
little forage for the thirty thousand soldiers of the Prince.
The troops, already discontented, were clamorous for pay and plunder.
During one mutinous demonstration, the Prince's sword was shot from his
side, and it was with difficulty that a general outbreak was suppressed.
The soldiery were maddened and tantalized by the tactics of Alva. They
found themselves constantly in the presence of an enemy, who seemed to
court a battle at one moment and to vanish like a phantom at the next
They felt the winter approaching, and became daily more dissatisfied with
the irritating hardships to which they were exposed. Upon the night of
the 5th and 6th of October the Prince had crossed the Meuse at Stochem.
Thence he had proceeded to Tongres, followed closely by the enemy's
force, who encamped in the immediate neighbourhood. From Tongres he
had moved to Saint Trond, still pursued and still baffled in the same
cautious manner. The skirmishing at the outposts was incessant, but the
main body was withdrawn as soon as there seemed a chance of its becoming
involved.
From Saint Trond, in the neighbourhood of which he had remained several
days, he advanced in a southerly direction towards Jodoigne. Count de
Genlis, with a reinforcement of French Huguenots, for which the Prince
had been waiting, had penetrated through the Ardennes, crossed the Meuse
at Charlemont, and was now intending a junction with him at Waveron. The
river Geta flowed between them. The Prince stationed a considerable
force upon a hill near the stream to protect the passage, and then
proceeded leisurely to send his army across the river. Count
Hoogstraaten, with the rear-guard, consisting of about three thousand
men, were alone left upon the hither bank, in order to provoke or to
tempt the enemy, who, as usual, was encamped very near. Alva refused to
attack the main army, but Frederic with a force of four thousand men,
were alone left on the hither bank, in order to provoke or to tempt the
enemy, who as usual, was encamped very near. Alva refused to attack the
main army but rapidly detached his son, Don Fredrick, with a force of
four thousand foot and three thousand horse, to cut off the rear-guard.
The movement was effected in a masterly manner, the hill was taken, the
three thousand troops which had not passed the river were cut to pieces,
and Vitelli hastily despatched a gentleman named Barberini to implore the
Duke to advance with the main body, cross the river, and, once for all,
exterminate the rebels in a general combat. Alva, inflamed, not with
ardor for an impending triumph, but with rage, that his sagely-conceived
plans could not be comprehended even by his son and by his favorite
officers, answered the eager messenger with peremptory violence. "Go
back to Vitelli," he cried. "Is he, or am I, to command in this
campaign? Tell him not to suffer a single man to cross the river. Warn
him against sending any more envoys to advise a battle; for should you or
any other man dare to bring me another such message, I swear to you, by
the head of the King, that you go not hence alive."
With this decisive answer the messenger had nothing for it but to gallop
back with all haste, in order to participate in what might be left of the
butchery of Count Hoogstraaten's force, and to prevent Vitelli and Don
Frederic in their ill-timed ardor, from crossing the river. This was
properly effected, while in the meantime the whole rear-guard of the
patriots had been slaughtered. A hundred or two, the last who remained,
had made their escape from the field, and had taken refuge in a house in
the neighbourhood. The Spaniards set the buildings on fire, and standing
around with lifted lances, offered the fugitives the choice of being
consumed in the flames or of springing out upon their spears. Thus
entrapped some chose the one course, some the other. A few, to escape
the fury of the fire and the brutality of the Spaniards, stabbed
themselves with their own swords. Others embraced, and then killed each
other, the enemies from below looking on, as at a theatrical exhibition;
now hissing and now applauding, as the death struggles were more or less
to their taste. In a few minutes all the fugitives were dead. Nearly
three thousand of the patriots were slain in this combat, including those
burned or butchered after the battle was over. The Sieur de Louverwal
was taken prisoner, and soon afterwards beheaded in Brussels; but the
greatest misfortune sustained by the liberal party upon this occasion was
the death of Antony de Lalaing, Count of Hoogstraaten. This brave and
generous nobleman, the tried friend of the Prince of Orange, and his
colleague during the memorable scenes at Antwerp, was wounded in the foot
during the action, by an accidental discharge of his own pistol. The
injury, although apparently slight, caused his death in a few days.
There seemed a strange coincidence in his good and evil fortunes.
A casual wound in the hand from his own pistol while he was on his way
to Brussels, to greet Alva upon his first arrival, had saved him from
the scaffold. And now in his first pitched battle with the Duke, this
seemingly trifling injury in the foot was destined to terminate his
existence. Another peculiar circumstance had marked the event. At a gay
supper in the course of this campaign, Hoogstraaten had teased Count
Louis, in a rough, soldierly way, with his disaster at Jemmingen.
He had affected to believe that the retreat upon that occasion had been
unnecessary. "We have been now many days in the Netherlands;" said he,
"and we have seen nothing of the Spaniards but their backs."--"And when
the Duke does break loose," replied Louis, somewhat nettled, "I warrant
you will see their faces soon enough, and remember them for the rest of
your life." The half-jesting remark was thus destined to become a gloomy
prophecy.
This was the only important action daring the campaign. Its perfect
success did not warp Alva's purpose, and, notwithstanding the murmurs of
many of his officers, he remained firm in his resolution. After the
termination of the battle on the Geta, and the Duke's obstinate refusal
to pursue his advantage, the Baron de Chevreau dashed his pistol to the
ground, in his presence, exclaiming that the Duke would never fight.
The Governor smiled at the young man's chagrin, seemed even to approve
his enthusiasm, but reminded him that it was the business of an officer
to fight, of a general to conquer. If the victory were bloodless, so
much the better for all.
This action was fought on the 20th of October. A few days afterwards,
the Prince made his junction with Genlis at Waveren, a place about three
leagues from Louvain and from Brussels. This auxiliary force was,
however, insignificant. There were only five hundred cavalry and three
thousand foot, but so many women and children, that it seemed rather an
emigrating colony than an invading army. They arrived late. If they had
come earlier, it would have been of little consequence, for it had been
written that no laurels were to be gathered in that campaign. The
fraternal spirit which existed between the Reformers in all countries
was all which could be manifested upon the occasion. The Prince was
frustrated in his hopes of a general battle, still more bitterly
disappointed by the supineness of the country. Not a voice was raised
to welcome the deliverer. Not a single city opened its gates. All was
crouching, silent, abject. The rising, which perhaps would have been
universal had a brilliant victory been obtained, was, by the masterly
tactics of Alva, rendered an almost inconceivable idea. The mutinous
demonstrations in the Prince's camp became incessant; the soldiers were
discontented and weary. What the Duke had foretold was coming to pass,
for the Prince's army was already dissolving.
Genlis and the other French officers were desirous that the Prince should
abandon the Netherlands for the present, and come to the rescue of the
Huguenots, who had again renewed the religious war under Conde and
Coligny. The German soldiers, however would listen to no such proposal.
They had enlisted to fight the Duke of Alva in the Netherlands, and would
not hear of making war against Charles IX. in France. The Prince was
obliged to countermarch toward the Rhine. He recrossed the Geta,
somewhat to Alva's astonishment, and proceeded in the direction of the
Meuse. The autumn rains, however, had much swollen that river since his
passage at the beginning of the month, so that it could no longer be
forded. He approached the city of Liege, and summoned their Bishop, as
he had done on his entrance into the country, to grant a free passage to
his troops. The Bishop who stood in awe of Alva, and who had accepted
his protection again refused. The Prince had no time to parley. He was
again obliged to countermarch, and took his way along the high-road to
France, still watched and closely pursued by Alva, between whose troops
and his own daily skirmishes took place. At Le Quesnoy, the Prince
gained a trifling advantage over the Spaniards; at Cateau Cambresis he
also obtained a slight and easy-victory; but by the 17th of November the
Duke of Alva had entered Cateau Cambresis, and the Prince had crossed the
frontier of France.
The Marechal de Cosse, who was stationed on the boundary of France and
Flanders, now harassed the Prince by very similar tactics to those of
Alva. He was, however, too weak to inflict any serious damage, although
strong enough to create perpetual annoyance. He also sent a secretary to
the Prince, with a formal prohibition, in the name of Charles IX.,
against his entering the French territory with his troops.
Besides these negotiations, conducted by Secretary Favelles on the part
of Marechal de Cosse, the King, who was excessively alarmed, also
despatched the Marechal Gaspar de Schomberg on the same service. That
envoy accordingly addressed to the Prince a formal remonstrance in the
name of his sovereign. Charles IX., it was represented, found it very
strange that the Prince should thus enter the French territory. The King
was not aware that he had ever given him the least cause for hostile
proceedings, could not therefore take it in good part that the Prince
should thus enter France with a "large and puissant army;" because no
potentate, however humble, could tolerate such a proceeding, much less a
great and powerful monarch. Orange was therefore summoned to declare his
intentions, but was at the same, time informed, that if he merely desired
"to pass amiably through the country," and would give assurance, and
request permission to that, effect, under his hand and seal, his Majesty
would take all necessary measures to secure that amiable passage.
The Prince replied by a reference to the statements which he had already
made to Marechal de Cosse. He averred that he had not entered France
with evil intent, but rather with a desire to render very humble service
to his Majesty, so far as he could do so with a clear conscience.
Touching the King's inability to remember having given any occasion to
hostile proceedings on the part of the Prince, he replied that he would
pass that matter by. Although he could adduce many, various, and strong
reasons for violent measures, he was not so devoid of understanding as
not to recognize the futility of attempting anything, by his own personal
means, against so great and powerful a King, in comparison with whom he
was "but a petty companion."
"Since the true religion," continued Orange, "is a public and general
affair, which ought to be preferred to all private matters; since the
Prince, as a true Christian, is held by his honor and conscience to
procure, with all his strength, its advancement and establishment in
every place whatever; since, on the other hand, according to the edict
published in September last by his Majesty, attempts have been made to
force in their consciences all those who are of the Christian religion;
and since it has been determined to exterminate the pure word of God,
and the entire exercise thereof, and to permit no other religion than
the Roman Catholic, a thing very, prejudicial to the neighbouring nations
where there is a free exercise of the Christian religion, therefore the
Prince would put no faith in the assertions of his Majesty, that it was
not his Majesty's intentions to force the consciences of any one."
Having given this very deliberate and succinct contradiction to the
statements of the French King, the Prince proceeded to express his
sympathy for the oppressed Christians everywhere. He protested that he
would give them all the aid, comfort, counsel, and assistance that he was
able to give them. He asserted his conviction that the men who professed
the religion demanded nothing else than the glory of God and the
advancement of His word, while in all matters of civil polity they were
ready to render obedience to his Majesty. He added that all his doings
were governed by a Christian and affectionate regard for the King and his
subjects, whom his Majesty must be desirous of preserving from extreme
ruin. He averred, moreover, that if he should perceive any indication
that those of the religion were pursuing any other object than liberty of
conscience and security for life and property, he would not only withdraw
his assistance from them, but would use the whole strength of his army to
exterminate them. In conclusion, he begged the King to believe that the
work which the Prince had undertaken was a Christian work, and that his
intentions were good and friendly towards his Majesty.
[This very eloquently written letter was dated Ciasonne, December
3rd, 1568. It has never been published. It is in the Collection of
MSS, Pivoen concernant, etc., Hague archives.]
It was, however, in vain that the Prince endeavoured to induce his army
to try the fortunes of the civil war in France. They had enlisted for
the Netherlands, the campaign was over, and they insisted upon being led
back to Germany. Schomberg, secretly instructed by the King of France,
was active in fomenting the discontent, and the Prince was forced to
yield. He led his army through Champagne and Lorraine to Strasburg,
where they were disbanded. All the money which the Prince had been able
to collect was paid them. He pawned all his camp equipage, his plate,
his furniture.
What he could not pay in money he made up in promises, sacredly to be
fulfilled, when he should be restored to his possessions. He even
solemnly engaged, should he return from France alive, and be still unable
to pay their arrears of wages, to surrender his person to them as a
hostage for his debt.
Thus triumphantly for Alva, thus miserably for Orange, ended the
campaign. Thus hopelessly vanished the army to which so many proud hopes
had attached themselves. Eight thousand teen had been slain in paltry
encounters, thirty thousand were dispersed, not easily to be again
collected. All the funds which the Prince could command had been wasted
without producing a result. For the present, nothing seemed to afford a
ground of hope for the Netherlands, but the war of freedom had been
renewed in France. A band of twelve hundred mounted men-at-arms were
willing to follow the fortunes of the Prince. The three brothers
accordingly; William, Louis, and Henry--a lad of eighteen, who had
abandoned his studies at the university to obey the chivalrous instincts
of his race--set forth early in the following spring to join the banner
of Conde.