WILLIAM THE SILENT
In the year 1560 two horsemen were riding in the Forest of Vincennes in
France, followed by a splendid retinue. It could be seen from their
costume and bearing that they were officials of high rank and large
following--and indeed they were no less personages than Henry the
Second, the King of France, and a Prince from the Netherlands named
William of Orange, a powerfully built young man of commanding
appearance and great nobility of demeanor.
The Netherlands which were ruled by the King of Spain, had been at war
with France and William had been sent to the French court as a hostage
while peace was being arranged. He was brave, generous, handsome and
wealthy, and gained the respect and liking of all that knew him,
wherever he happened to be. But his heart was as heavy as lead while
the French King was talking to him, for Henry the Second was telling
him of a secret scheme by which all people in the Netherlands who did
not believe in the Catholic religion were to be wiped out by fire and
sword.
"Everything has been arranged," said Henry triumphantly, "and the King
of Spain has agreed with me to carry out the affair in the Low
Countries as shall be done in France. The ancient edicts are to be
brought forth again. The Holy Inquisition is to be revived in its
greatest severity, and before long there will be no place in Spain,
France or the Low Countries where a heretic may lay his head in
safety."
Now Henry of France was very foolish when he spoke this way to Prince
William of Orange. He believed that because the Prince had been
commander of the army of King Philip of Spain that he was in the
complete confidence of the Spanish King--but this was not the case.
Although William had been brought up in the Catholic faith he was a
Protestant at heart, and came from a Protestant family. He had only
turned to the Catholic religion because it had been necessary for him
to be of that faith to become the ruler of the Principality of
Orange,--and even if his own father and mother had not been
Protestants, William would never have consented to the hanging and
burning of innocent people because they happened to believe in a
religion that was slightly different from his own. His blood ran cold
with horror when he heard what the King of France and the King of Spain
were planning--but in spite of what he heard he had presence of mind
enough to listen quietly without showing any sign of the rebellion and
anger that were in his heart. He knew that he could aid the Protestants
and the Netherlands far more if the powerful monarchs who were in
league against them did not realize that they would have him to reckon
with as one of their enemies, but from that time on Prince William
determined not to rest until the last Spanish soldier had been driven
from his country and the people were allowed to worship God in their
own way.
Still William said nothing. He pretended to be greatly interested in
the measures that he had learned of and expressed no disapproval of
their severity. The King of France never learned what an error he had
made. But William, from his attitude on this matter and the way that he
conducted himself, gained the nickname of "William the Silent" which
clung to him throughout his life and has been attached to him in
history ever since.
William was well liked in the Netherlands or the "Low Countries" as
they were then called. He was the son of a nobleman, Count William of
Nassau, and succeeded to the principality of Orange on the death of his
cousin Rene of Nassau who was killed in battle. Rene was an ardent
Catholic, and stipulated that to gain the principality William would
have to be brought up in the Catholic faith. So young William went to
the Court of Charles the Fifth, Emperor of Spain and Germany, and
became a page in Charles' establishment in the city of Brussels.
When a youth of eighteen William married a girl of high birth named
Anne of Edgemont and lived happily with her until he went to the wars
with the Spanish army. He did not like military life, but none the less
he did so well that before he was twenty-one he was made a General. His
record was creditable to the utmost, but through all his life William
never showed any great military ability. He was slow to come to
decisions and too deliberate to make a military leader of the highest
order.
When William returned to the Netherlands after his sojourn in the
French court he was made Governor of the principalities of Zeeland,
Utrecht and Holland. And here, in his efforts to help the Protestants
from the harsh decrees that were being carried out against them, he
first came in collision with the cruel and cold-blooded Philip of
Spain.
Philip believed in the instrument of justice called the Holy
Inquisition and for years this had been in operation in his own kingdom
of Spain. It was a body of Priests and wise men who judged and
condemned all persons who were accused of heresy, as any difference
from the Catholic religion was called. The punishments dealt out by the
Holy Inquisition were most severe and brought great suffering. For the
Inquisition employed the most inhuman tortures, not only for those who
were convicted of guilt, but also for unfortunate people who were
accused, maintaining that under torture nobody could refrain from
telling the truth, nor conceal any wickedness that he had ever
committed. As a result of this, confessions were often wrung from
innocent people, who could not support the agony of torture, preferring
to be punished for crimes they had not committed than to bear it. And
this punishment was almost invariably to be hanged or burned alive at
the stake.
At the time when William was put in control of the three small states
that we have spoken of, Philip had left the Low Countries for Spain,
and had placed the government of his dominions in the Netherlands in
the hands of his half sister, Margaret the Duchess of Parma, and under
her rule the cruel measures enacted by Philip against the Protestants
were ruthlessly carried out.
As Governor under Philip, William was expected to apply these measures
himself, and on one occasion was ordered to put to death certain people
who were accused of heresy. Being unwilling to do this he sent them
private warning, suffering them to escape before his men came to arrest
them; and from this time on he followed a course of action that soon
brought him into disfavor with the Duchess of Parma who suspected him
of treachery and wrote to the King of Spain accusing William of many
crimes.
Greater and greater grew the unrest and dissatisfaction throughout the
Netherlands. And one curious sign of this was in the formation of a
society of noblemen who called themselves "The Beggars." This
organization had come about in the following manner. Three hundred or
more noblemen had presented to Margaret a request that the Inquisition
be abolished and the edicts against the Protestants revoked. Some of
her advisors laughed at the request of the Flemish nobles, referring to
them scornfully as "beggars," and the term came to their ears. At once
they took the word for their watch cry and dressed themselves in the
costume of beggars with wallets and begging bowls, declaring that they
would not resume their ordinary dress until their requests had been
granted. And this organization did a great deal to fan the opposition
to Spain, which was increasing every day throughout the Netherlands,
into a flame of rebellion.
Another disturbance soon took place that made the King of Spain more
bitterly angry against the Low Countries than any other thing that
could have happened. A storm against the Catholic faith swept through
the country and churches were sacked and the holy images destroyed in
every province. Mobs marched through the streets attired in the sacred
vestments of the priests that they had torn from the altar. Stained
glass windows were broken with stones; entire churches were ransacked
and plundered of everything of value that they contained. The people at
last had turned in revolt, and "the image breaking" as this rioting was
called, was the first sign of it. And then, or shortly after, William
the Silent became a Protestant.
Frightened by the signs of revolt Margaret pretended to consent to the
wishes of the nobles and stated that the Inquisition should be
abolished in the Netherlands and the edicts against the Protestant
religion revoked. And she sent a secret letter to the King of Spain,
informing him of what she had done.
Philip was determined on the most bitter vengeance, but until he could
bring a powerful army into the Low Countries it suited him to have his
subjects there believe that he had actually consented to their demands.
So he pretended to agree to what Margaret had granted, and all through
the Low Countries the bells rang and the bonfires burned in rejoicing
that freedom from persecution had at last been gained.
But Philip had put a nobleman named the Duke of Alva in charge of the
army that was to subdue the Netherlands, and could not have chosen a
better or surer man to carry out his dark ends. The Duke of Alva was a
monster of cruelty, implacable as iron, and possessed of a skill in
warfare that few could equal. He had been ordered to seize William of
Orange as well as other leaders and bring them to instant execution,
and then so to punish the Netherlands that not a trace of the recent
rioting or rebellion should remain.
The Netherlands were not then in a position to offer a strong
resistance to such a highly organized, well trained army as the Duke of
Alva's, but secret preparations were going through the country for a
great struggle of which the recent rioting was only the smallest
beginning. The Duke of Alva, proud soldier that he was, did not
estimate the strength of the Lowlanders at its proper value. He boasted
that he had tamed men of iron in his time and could easily tame the men
of butter who were now opposed to him. And his first act was to carry
out King Philip's demands against the noblemen who were chiefly
implicated in the recent uprisings.
These were the Counts Egmont and Horn and rightly or wrongly William of
Orange. William himself had been shrewd enough to fly to Germany. He
knew Philip and he urged Counts Egmont and Horn to fly with him. But
they, foolishly feeling secure in their own country, decided to remain
where they were.
For a very brief time they thought they had decided rightly, for the
Duke of Alva was courteous to them. He invited them to his house to
dinner and made them his guests--but while they were eating his bread
and drinking his wine, an armed guard surrounded his house and the two
unfortunate nobles were arrested by the treacherous Spaniard and
promptly thrown into prison. They never regained their liberty. After
being held as captives for the better part of a year they met their
fate courageously on the public scaffold where so many of the bravest
and best heads of the Netherlands were falling by the Duke of Alva's
orders.
A reign of terror then swept over the Netherlands that has had
practically no equal in history. Alva was relentless as flint in every
dealing with the people under his charge. To meet the numerous trials
that were necessary under his regime he appointed what was called the
Council of Troubles--a name that was quickly changed by the people
themselves to the Council of Blood, for it never acquitted, never
showed mercy. Prisoners were led before it and condemned in batches of
a hundred or more at a time, and sometimes prisoners were delivered to
the executioners without even the poor formality of a trial that this
council afforded.
Nor was this all--for to fill his coffers the Duke of Alva established
a system of taxation that if carried out would reduce to beggary every
man, woman and child in the Low Countries.
William the Silent was not idle in Germany, where he had fled on the
coming of this Spanish tyrant; he was engaged in raising money and
enlisting the sympathy of German princes in the cause of his oppressed
people. Aided by his brother Louis, who was a fine soldier, he worked
day and night to raise an army to march against the Spaniards, and at
last was able to send his forces into the Netherlands, while he himself
remained with a small reserve ready to support them when necessary.
But although William's brother and the other leaders of his new army
were fine soldiers, they failed against the brilliant military genius
of the Duke of Alva. At first they seemed partly successful and won a
minor victory at a place called Heiliger Lee,--but then the Duke of
Alva himself marched against them at the head of a splendid army, and
wiped out the forces of his adversary at Jemmingen, killing the wounded
and taking no prisoners, but exterminating his foes wherever he met
them. And among the dead was William's youngest brother, Adolphus, who
had distinguished himself for his bravery.
Then William had to raise another force to supplant the one that had
just been destroyed. The German princes were discouraged by his failure
and were reluctant about giving their aid; and in his distress he
turned to Queen Elizabeth of England, who sympathized with his cause,
but could not do anything for him at that time.
At last, however, William succeeded in gathering another army that was
even larger than the first one, and placing himself at its head he
entered the Netherlands. He was, however, in great straits, for his
soldiers were only German mercenaries and William lacked money to pay
them. The Duke of Alva knew this and refused to fight, but constantly
retreated, knowing well that mutiny would soon break out in William's
forces and weaken him far more than any battle. And this proved to be
the case. Serious trouble broke out among the German soldiers, and
William at last had to disband the army and take refuge in France
without money, credit or prestige. He had sold all his personal
possessions to support the army and all was lost.
Where he had once been one of the richest noblemen in Europe, he was
now so poor that he hardly knew where the next day's dinner was to come
from. Alva had confiscated all his Netherland estates, and William had
gone heavily into debt to raise his armies. Failure and poverty stared
him in the face, and other misfortunes followed him. His first wife had
died several years before, and his second wife, a German princess, now
went insane.
Crushed on land, there was yet the possibility for William to do
something for his oppressed country by attacking his enemies on the
sea. It was not long before privateers in his name were harrying the
Spanish vessels and swooping down upon the ports held by the Spaniards.
These daring seamen took their name from the society that had been
formed years before called the "Beggars." And William's sailors now
called themselves "The Beggars of the Sea."
They found help and protection in the English ports, for Queen
Elizabeth hated the Duke of Alva, and while not willing just then to go
to war openly with Spain, she did all in her power to give assistance
to Spain's enemies. She allowed the Beggars to obtain men and supplies
from England, and did not hesitate to give them ammunition when they
required it.
Then a first success came to William's cause like a faint ray of
sunlight through heavy clouds, for the Beggars of the Sea captured the
fortified town of Brill. And almost immediately after, encouraged by
this initial success, the whole of the Netherlands which had been
groaning under the Spanish rule rose in rebellion and claimed as their
rightful ruler the Prince of Orange. Almost in a night the cities rose
and cast off their Spanish yoke, and all through the Low Countries the
flag of the Prince of Orange was uplifted.
Alva sent his troops to lay siege to the towns and recapture them, and
there followed one of the most terrible periods of warfare that the
world has ever known--certainly the most terrible that ever engulfed
Belgium until the World War of our own day.
And now for the first time since his former defeat, the Prince of
Orange was able to raise troops to fight once more against the
Spaniards. He sent repeated appeals to the cities of the Low Countries,
and prepared an army of some twenty thousand German mercenaries that
was to be further strengthened by a French force under the French
Admiral Coligny. William counted on Coligny's aid to defeat Alva, for
Coligny was an ardent Protestant and had many men at his command.
But there befell another check to William's fortunes, and one that was
almost fatal to his plans, for under the wicked Catherine de Medici the
French Catholics in two days massacred almost every Protestant in
France in a slaughter that was called the Massacre of St. Bartholomew.
Admiral Coligny was among the victims, and all hope of support from
that quarter was at an end.
Louis, the brother of William, was being besieged by the Duke of Alva
in the city of Mons, and William marched to the relief of the town. He
did not strike promptly enough, however, and was routed by a strategem
on the part of the Spaniards. In the night a considerable force of the
Spanish soldiers stole up to William's camp and fell upon his army,
taking it completely by surprise. William himself barely escaped with
his life, being awakened by a pet dog in the nick of time, and when the
Spaniards were almost in his tent. Leaping to his horse, he galloped
madly from the burning camp and escaped, but his army was cut to
pieces. Then Alva continued the siege of Mons until Louis had to
surrender. The Spaniards, however, for some strange reason allowed
Louis to evacuate the town without interference and Louis fled to
Dillenburg in Germany, the home of the Nassau family. But in spite of
this new defeat and disappointment, the Lowland cities continued their
resistance, and nowhere was this stronger than in the province of
Holland.
The sieges that followed were among the most terrible in history for
the beleaguered towns knew well they could expect no mercy if they were
conquered, and held out to the last breath. Their inhabitants ate
horses, dogs, old shoes--anything to fill their stomachs and stay the
inroads of starvation. Plague broke out among them and in the Spanish
forces as well. When the Spaniards captured a town they left not one
stone upon another, and the burghers who had opposed them were
massacred to a man.
But the Duke of Alva was growing old and suffering from ill health. The
universal hatred in which he was held weighed on his spirit. He had
written several times asking his recall from the Netherlands, and at
last King Philip consented to his request and sent out a Governor named
Requesens to take his place. All the Netherlands went wild with joy
when the news spread that Alva was leaving and bells were rung and
bonfires lit as for some national holiday.
In the meantime William had made his headquarters in the province of
Holland and was conducting the war against the Spaniards from that
point. The Spaniards were besieging the city of Leyden, which it was
necessary for them to capture, but the Netherlanders cut the dykes that
restrained the ocean and let the sea sweep over the land, for Leyden
was reduced to starvation, and every day people were dying by hundreds
within its walls. The rescuers sailed up to the town in ships as the
Spaniards fled, bringing bread to the famished people.
William was now the ruler of Holland and had triumphed over the
Spaniards. The war dragged after these terrible sieges and both sides
would gladly have seen it ended; but the Lowlanders were in no temper
to accept half measures. And in the Union of Utrecht, in which a number
of the Lowland provinces united against Philip, an important step was
taken toward throwing off the Spanish yoke.
William's life was in great danger, for King Philip had offered a
reward of twenty-five thousand crowns in gold to any assassin who
should strike him down. And although he was under fifty, he appeared
like an old man, so great were the troubles with which he had been
beset in the course of his life. He was the constant target for the
bullet or the dagger of the assassin, and many dogged his tracks as a
result of the Spanish proclamation against him.
The end that might have been expected came in the spring of 1584.
Already William had once been severely wounded by a would-be murderer,
and he was now to receive his death blow. A young man, who claimed to
be a Protestant orphaned in the religious persecutions, sought aid from
William's secretary, and William himself ordered that twelve crowns be
given him. With this money the perfidious assassin bought firearms and
ammunition, and gaining entrance to William's home fired three shots
into his body. A few minutes later the "father of his country" lay
dead.
The work that William had done was far reaching and had a permanent
effect on the fortunes of his country. And to-day a song that was sung
at the time in his honor is still the national anthem of the Kingdom of
Holland. He was a man of a great heart and a great character; and his
fame has lived and grown more lustrous up to the present day.