Thus the great conflict, to be afterwards known as the Thirt

This eBook was produced by David Widger

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THE LIFE AND DEATH of JOHN OF BARNEVELD, ADVOCATE OF HOLLAND

WITH A VIEW OF THE PRIMARY CAUSES AND MOVEMENTS OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR

By John Lothrop Motley, D.C.L., LL.D.

MOTLEY'S HISTORY OF THE NETHERLANDS, Project Gutenberg Edition, Volume 89

Life and Death of John of Barneveld, v4, 1610-12

CHAPTER V.

Interviews between the Dutch Commissioners and King James--Prince

Maurice takes command of the Troops--Surrender of Julich--Matthias

crowned King of Bohemia--Death of Rudolph--James's Dream of a

Spanish Marriage--Appointment of Vorstius in place of Arminius at

Leyden--Interview between Maurice and Winwood--Increased Bitterness

between Barneveld and Maurice--Projects of Spanish Marriages in

France.

It is refreshing to escape from the atmosphere of self-seeking faction,

feverish intrigue, and murderous stratagem in which unhappy France was

stifling into the colder and calmer regions of Netherland policy.

No sooner had the tidings of Henry's murder reached the States than

they felt that an immense responsibility had fallen on their shoulders.

It is to the eternal honour of the Republic, of Barneveld, who directed

her councils, and of Prince Maurice, who wielded her sword, that she was

equal to the task imposed upon her.

There were open bets on the Exchange in Antwerp, after the death of

Henry, that Maurice would likewise be killed within the month. Nothing

seemed more probable, and the States implored the Stadholder to take

special heed to himself. But this was a kind of caution which the Prince

was not wont to regard. Nor was there faltering, distraction, cowardice,

or parsimony in Republican councils.

We have heard the strong words of encouragement and sympathy addressed by

the Advocate's instructions to the Queen-Regent and the leading statesmen

of France. We have seen their effects in that lingering sentiment of

shame which prevented the Spanish stipendiaries who governed the kingdom

from throwing down the mask as cynically as they were at first inclined

to do.

Not less manful and statesmanlike was the language held to the King of

Great Britain and his ministers by the Advocate's directions. The news

of the assassination reached the special ambassadors in London at three

o'clock of Monday, the 17th May. James returned to Whitehall from a

hunting expedition on the 21st, and immediately signified his intention

of celebrating the occasion by inviting the high commissioners of the

States to a banquet and festival at the palace.

Meantime they were instructed by Barneveld to communicate the results of

the special embassy of the States to the late king according to the

report just delivered to the Assembly. Thus James was to be informed of

the common resolution and engagement then taken to support the cause of

the princes. He was now seriously and explicitly to be summoned to

assist the princes not only with the stipulated 4000 men, but with a much

greater force, proportionate to the demands for the security and welfare

of Christendom, endangered by this extraordinary event. He was assured

that the States would exert themselves to the full measure of their

ability to fortify and maintain the high interests of France, of the

possessory princes, and of Christendom, so that the hopes of the

perpetrators of the foul deed would be confounded.

"They hold this to be the occasion," said the envoys, "to show to all the

world that it is within your power to rescue the affairs of France,

Germany, and of the United Provinces from the claws of those who imagine

for themselves universal monarchy."

They concluded by requesting the King to come to "a resolution on this

affair royally, liberally, and promptly, in order to take advantage of

the time, and not to allow the adversary to fortify himself in his

position"; and they pledged the States-General to stand by and second

him with all their power.

The commissioners, having read this letter to Lord Salisbury before

communicating it to the King, did not find the Lord Treasurer very prompt

or sympathetic in his reply. There had evidently been much jealousy at

the English court of the confidential and intimate relations recently

established with Henry, to which allusions were made in the documents

read at the present conference. Cecil, while expressing satisfaction in

formal terms at the friendly language of the States, and confidence in

the sincerity of their friendship for his sovereign, intimated very

plainly that more had passed between the late king and the authorities of

the Republic than had been revealed by either party to the King of Great

Britain, or than could be understood from the letters and papers now

communicated. He desired further information from the commissioners,

especially in regard to those articles of their instructions which

referred to a general rupture. They professed inability to give more

explanations than were contained in the documents themselves. If

suspicion was felt, they said, that the French King had been proposing

anything in regard to a general rupture, either on account of the retreat

of Conde, the affair of Savoy, or anything else, they would reply that

the ambassadors in France had been instructed to decline committing the

States until after full communication and advice and ripe deliberation

with his British Majesty and council, as well as the Assembly of the

States-General; and it had been the intention of the late king to have

conferred once more and very confidentially with Prince Maurice and Count

Lewis William before coming to a decisive resolution.

It was very obvious however to the commissioners that their statement

gave no thorough satisfaction, and that grave suspicions remained of

something important kept back by them. Cecil's manner was constrained

and cold, and certainly there were no evidences of profound sorrow at the

English court for the death of Henry.

"The King of France," said the High Treasurer, "meant to make a master-

stroke--a coup de maistre--but he who would have all may easily lose all.

Such projects as these should not have been formed or taken in hand

without previous communication with his Majesty of Great Britain."

All arguments on the part of the ambassadors to induce the Lord Treasurer

or other members of the government to enlarge the succour intended for

the Cleve affair were fruitless. The English troops regularly employed

in the States' service might be made use of with the forces sent by the

Republic itself. More assistance than this it was idle to expect, unless

after a satisfactory arrangement with the present regency of France. The

proposition, too, of the States for a close and general alliance was

coldly repulsed. "No resolution can be taken as to that," said Cecil;

"the death of the French king has very much altered such matters."

At a little later hour on the same day the commissioners, according to

previous invitation, dined with the King.

No one sat at the table but his Majesty and themselves, and they all kept

their hats on their heads. The King was hospitable, gracious,

discursive, loquacious, very theological.

He expressed regret for the death of the King of France, and said

that the pernicious doctrine out of which such vile crimes grew must be

uprooted. He asked many questions in regard to the United Netherlands,

enquiring especially as to the late commotions at Utrecht, and the

conduct of Prince Maurice on that occasion. He praised the resolute

conduct of the States-General in suppressing those tumults with force,

adding, however, that they should have proceeded with greater rigour

against the ringleaders of the riot. He warmly recommended the Union of

the Provinces.

He then led the conversation to the religious controversies in the

Netherlands, and in reply to his enquiries was informed that the points

in dispute related to predestination and its consequences.

"I have studied that subject," said James, "as well as anybody, and have

come to the conclusion that nothing certain can be laid down in regard to

it. I have myself not always been of one mind about it, but I will bet

that my opinion is the best of any, although I would not hang my

salvation upon it. My Lords the States would do well to order their

doctors and teachers to be silent on this topic. I have hardly ventured,

moreover, to touch upon the matter of justification in my own writings,

because that also seemed to hang upon predestination."

Thus having spoken with the air of a man who had left nothing further to

be said on predestination or justification, the King rose, took off his

hat, and drank a bumper to the health of the States-General and his

Excellency Prince Maurice, and success to the affair of Cleve.

After dinner there was a parting interview in the gallery. The King,

attended by many privy councillors and high functionaries of state,

bade the commissioners a cordial farewell, and, in order to show his

consideration for their government, performed the ceremony of knighthood

upon them, as was his custom in regard to the ambassadors of Venice. The

sword being presented to him by the Lord Chamberlain, James touched each

of the envoys on the shoulder as he dismissed him. "Out of respect to My

Lords the States," said they in their report, "we felt compelled to allow

ourselves to be burthened with this honour."

Thus it became obvious to the States-General that there was but little to

hope for from Great Britain or France. France, governed by Concini and

by Spain, was sure to do her best to traverse the designs of the

Republic, and, while perfunctorily and grudgingly complying with the

letter of the Hall treaty, was secretly neutralizing by intrigue the

slender military aid which de la Chatre was to bring to Prince Maurice.

The close alliance of France and Protestantism had melted into air. On

the other hand the new Catholic League sprang into full luxuriance out

of the grave of Henry, and both Spain and the Pope gave their hearty

adhesion to the combinations of Maximilian of Bavaria, now that the

mighty designs of the French king were buried with him. The Duke of

Savoy, caught in the trap of his own devising, was fain to send his son

to sue to Spain for pardon for the family upon his knees, and expiated

by draining a deep cup of humiliation his ambitious designs upon the

Milanese and the matrimonial alliance with France. Venice recoiled in

horror from the position she found herself in as soon as the glamour of

Henry's seductive policy was dispelled, while James of Great Britain,

rubbing his hands with great delight at the disappearance from the world

of the man he so admired, bewailed, and hated, had no comfort to impart

to the States-General thus left in virtual isolation. The barren burthen

of knighthood and a sermon on predestination were all he could bestow

upon the high commissioners in place of the alliance which he eluded,

and the military assistance which he point-blank refused. The possessory

princes, in whose cause the sword was drawn, were too quarrelsome and too

fainthearted to serve for much else than an incumbrance either in the

cabinet or the field.

And the States-General were equal to the immense responsibility.

Steadily, promptly, and sagaciously they confronted the wrath, the

policy, and the power of the Empire, of Spain, and of the Pope. Had the

Republic not existed, nothing could have prevented that debateable and

most important territory from becoming provinces of Spain, whose power

thus dilated to gigantic proportions in the very face of England would

have been more menacing than in the days of the Armada. Had the Republic

faltered, she would have soon ceased to exist. But the Republic did not

falter.

On the 13th July, Prince Maurice took command of the States' forces,

13,000 foot and 3000 horse, with thirty pieces of cannon, assembled at

Schenkenschans. The July English and French regiments in the regular

service of the United Provinces were included in these armies, but there

were no additions to them: "The States did seven times as much,"

Barneveld justly averred, "as they had stipulated to do." Maurice,

moving with the precision and promptness which always marked his military

operations, marched straight upon Julich, and laid siege to that

important fortress. The Archdukes at Brussels, determined to keep out

of the fray as long as possible, offered no opposition to the passage of

his supplies up the Rhine, which might have been seriously impeded by

them at Rheinberg. The details of the siege, as of all the Prince's

sieges, possess no more interest to the general reader than the working

out of a geometrical problem. He was incapable of a flaw in his

calculations, but it was impossible for him quite to complete the

demonstration before the arrival of de la Chatre. Maurice received with

courtesy the Marshal, who arrived on the 18th August, at the head of his

contingent of 8000 foot and a few squadrons of cavalry, and there was

great show of harmony between them. For any practical purposes, de la

Chatre might as well have remained in France. For political ends his

absence would have been preferable to his presence.

Maurice would have rejoiced, had the Marshal blundered longer along the

road to the debateable land than he had done. He had almost brought

Julich to reduction. A fortnight later the place surrendered. The terms

granted by the conqueror were equitable. No change was to be made in the

liberty of Roman Catholic worship, nor in the city magistracy. The

citadel and its contents were to be handed over to the Princes of

Brandenburg and Neuburg. Archduke Leopold and his adherents departed to

Prague, to carry out as he best could his farther designs upon the crown

of Bohemia, this first portion of them having so lamentably failed, and

Sergeant-Major Frederick Pithan, of the regiment of Count Ernest Casimir

of Nassau, was appointed governor of Julich in the interest of the

possessory princes.

Thus without the loss of a single life, the Republic, guided by her

consummate statesman and unrivalled general, had gained an immense

victory, had installed the Protestant princes in the full possession of

those splendid and important provinces, and had dictated her decrees on

German soil to the Emperor of Germany, and had towed, as it were, Great

Britain and France along in her wake, instead of humbly following those

powers, and had accomplished all that she had ever proposed to do, even

in alliance with them both.

The King of England considered that quite enough had been done, and was

in great haste to patch up a reconciliation. He thought his ambassador

would soon "have as good occasion to employ his tongue and his pen as

General Cecil and his soldiers have done their swords and their

mattocks."

He had no sympathy with the cause of Protestantism, and steadily refused

to comprehend the meaning of the great movements in the duchies. "I only

wish that I may handsomely wind myself out of this quarrel, where the

principal parties do so little for themselves," he said.

De la Chatre returned with his troops to France within a fortnight after

his arrival on the scene. A mild proposition made by the French

government through the Marshal, that the provinces should be held in

seguestration by France until a decision as to the true sovereignty could

be reached, was promptly declined. Maurice of Nassau had hardly gained

so signal a triumph for the Republic and for the Protestant cause only to

hand it over to Concini and Villeroy for the benefit of Spain. Julich

was thought safer in the keeping of Sergeant Pithan.

By the end of September the States' troops had returned to their own

country.

Thus the Republic, with eminent success, had accomplished a brief and

brilliant campaign, but no statesman could suppose that the result was

more than a temporary one. These coveted provinces, most valuable in

themselves and from their important position, would probably not be

suffered peacefully to remain very long under the protection of the

heretic States-General and in the 'Condominium' of two Protestant

princes. There was fear among the Imperialists, Catholics, and

Spaniards, lest the baleful constellation of the Seven Provinces might be

increased by an eighth star. And this was a project not to be tolerated.

It was much already that the upstart confederacy had defied Pope,

Emperor, and King, as it were, on their own domains, had dictated

arrangements in Germany directly in the teeth of its emperor, using

France as her subordinate, and compelling the British king to acquiesce

in what he most hated.

But it was not merely to surprise Julich, and to get a foothold in the

duchies, that Leopold had gone forth on his adventure. His campaign, as

already intimated, was part of a wide scheme in which he had persuaded

his emperor-cousin to acquiesce. Poor Rudolph had been at last goaded

into a feeble attempt at revolt against his three brothers and his cousin

Ferdinand. Peace-loving, inert, fond of his dinner, fonder of his

magnificent collections of gems and intagli, liking to look out of window

at his splendid collection of horses, he was willing to pass a quiet

life, afar from the din of battles and the turmoil of affairs. As he

happened to be emperor of half Europe, these harmless tastes could not

well be indulged. Moon-faced and fat, silent and slow, he was not

imperial of aspect on canvas or coin, even when his brows were decorated

with the conventional laurel wreath. He had been stripped of his

authority and all but discrowned by his more bustling brothers Matthias

and Max, while the sombre figure of Styrian Ferdinand, pupil of the

Jesuits, and passionate admirer of Philip II., stood ever in the

background, casting a prophetic shadow over the throne and over Germany.

The brothers were endeavouring to persuade Rudolph that he would find

more comfort in Innsbruck than in Prague; that he required repose after

the strenuous labours of government. They told him, too, that it would

be wise to confer the royal crown of Bohemia upon Matthias, lest, being

elective and also an electorate, the crown and vote of that country might

pass out of the family, and so both Bohemia and the Empire be lost to the

Habsburgs. The kingdom being thus secured to Matthias and his heirs, the

next step, of course, was to proclaim him King of the Romans. Otherwise

there would be great danger and detriment to Hungary, and other

hereditary states of that conglomerate and anonymous monarchy which owned

the sway of the great Habsburg family.

The unhappy emperor was much piqued. He had been deprived by his brother

of Hungary, Moravia, and Austria, while Matthias was now at Prague with

an army, ostensibly to obtain ratification of the peace with Turkey, but

in reality to force the solemn transfer of those realms and extort the

promise of Bohemia. Could there be a better illustration of the

absurdities of such a system of Imperialism?

And now poor Rudolph was to be turned out of the Hradschin, and sent

packing with or without his collections to the Tyrol.

The bellicose bishop of Strassburg and Passau, brother of Ferdinand, had

little difficulty in persuading the downtrodden man to rise to vengeance.

It had been secretly agreed between the two that Leopold, at the head of

a considerable army of mercenaries which he had contrived to levy, should

dart into Julich as the Emperor's representative, seize the debateable

duchies, and hold them in sequestration until the Emperor should decide

to whom they belonged, and, then, rushing back to Bohemia, should

annihilate Matthias, seize Prague, and deliver Rudolph from bondage. It

was further agreed that Leopold, in requital of these services, should

receive the crown of Bohemia, be elected King of the Romans, and declared

heir to the Emperor, so far as Rudolph could make him his heir.

The first point in the program he had only in part accomplished. He had

taken Julich, proclaimed the intentions of the Emperor, and then been

driven out of his strong position by the wise policy of the States under

the guidance of Barneveld and by the consummate strategy of Maurice. It

will be seen therefore that the Republic was playing a world's game at

this moment, and doing it with skill and courage. On the issue of the

conflict which had been begun and was to be long protracted in the

duchies, and to spread over nearly all Christendom besides, would depend

the existence of the United Netherlands and the fate of Protestantism.

The discomfited Leopold swept back at the head of his mercenaries, 9000

foot and 3000 horse, through Alsace and along the Danube to Linz and so

to Prague, marauding, harrying, and black-mailing the country as he went.

He entered the city on the 15th of February 1611, fighting his way

through crowds of exasperated burghers. Sitting in full harness on

horseback in the great square before the cathedral, the warlike bishop

compelled the population to make oath to him as the Emperor's commissary.

The street fighting went on however day by day, poor Rudolph meantime

cowering in the Hradschin. On the third day, Leopold, driven out of the

town, took up a position on the heights, from which he commanded it with

his artillery. Then came a feeble voice from the Hradschin, telling all

men that these Passau marauders and their episcopal chief were there by

the Emperor's orders. The triune city--the old, the new, and the Jew--

was bidden to send deputies to the palace and accept the Imperial

decrees. No deputies came at the bidding. The Bohemians, especially the

Praguers, being in great majority Protestants knew very well that Leopold

was fighting the cause of the Papacy and Spain in Bohemia as well as in

the duchies.

And now Matthias appeared upon the scene. The Estates had already been

in communication with him, better hopes, for the time at least, being

entertained from him than from the flaccid Rudolph. Moreover a kind of

compromise had been made in the autumn between Matthias and the Emperor

after the defeat of Leopold in the duchies. The real king had fallen at

the feet of the nominal one by proxy of his brother Maximilian. Seven

thousand men of the army of Matthias now came before Prague under command

of Colonitz. The Passauers, receiving three months pay from the Emperor,

marched quietly off. Leopold disappeared for the time. His chancellor

and counsellor in the duchies, Francis Teynagel, a Geldrian noble, taken

prisoner and put to the torture, revealed the little plot of the Emperor

in favour of the Bishop, and it was believed that the Pope, the King of

Spain, and Maximilian of Bavaria were friendly to the scheme. This was

probable, for Leopold at last made no mystery of his resolve to fight

Protestantism to the death, and to hold the duchies, if he could, for the

cause of Rome and Austria.

Both Rudolph and Matthias had committed themselves to the toleration of

the Reformed religion. The famous "Majesty-Letter," freshly granted by

the Emperor (1609), and the Compromise between the Catholic and

Protestant Estates had become the law of the land. Those of the Bohemian

confession, a creed commingled of Hussism, Lutheranism, and Calvinism,

had obtained toleration. In a country where nine-tenths of the

population were Protestants it was permitted to Protestants to build

churches and to worship God in them unmolested. But these privileges

had been extorted by force, and there was a sullen, dogged determination

which might be easily guessed at to revoke them should it ever become

possible. The House of Austria, reigning in Spain, Italy, and Germany,

was bound by the very law of their being to the Roman religion.

Toleration of other worship signified in their eyes both a defeat and a

crime.

Thus the great conflict, to be afterwards known as the Thirty Years' War,

had in reality begun already, and the Netherlands, in spite of the truce,

were half unconsciously taking a leading part in it. The odds at that

moment in Germany seemed desperately against the House of Austria, so

deep and wide was the abyss between throne and subjects which religious

difference had created. But the reserved power in Spain, Italy, and

Southern Germany was sure enough to make itself felt sooner or later on

the Catholic side.

Meantime the Estates of Bohemia knew well enough that the Imperial house

was bent on destroying the elective principle of the Empire, and on

keeping the crown of Bohemia in perpetuity. They had also discovered

that Bishop-Archduke Leopold had been selected by Rudolph as chief of the

reactionary movement against Protestantism. They could not know at that

moment whether his plans were likely to prove fantastic or dangerous.

So Matthias came to Prague at the invitation of the Estates, entering the

city with all the airs of a conqueror. Rudolph received his brother with

enforced politeness, and invited him to reside in the Hradschin. This

proposal was declined by Matthias, who sent a colonel however, with six

pieces of artillery, to guard and occupy that palace. The Passau

prisoners were pardoned and released, and there was a general

reconciliation. A month later, Matthias went in pomp to the chapel

of the holy Wenceslaus, that beautiful and barbarous piece of mediaeval,

Sclavonic architecture, with its sombre arches, and its walls encrusted

with huge precious stones. The Estates of Bohemia, arrayed in splendid

Zchech costume, and kneeling on the pavement, were asked whether they

accepted Matthias, King of Hungary, as their lawful king. Thrice they

answered Aye. Cardinal Dietrichstein then put the historic crown of St.

Wenceslaus on the King's head, and Matthias swore to maintain the laws

and privileges of Bohemia, including the recent charters granting liberty

of religion to Protestants. Thus there was temporary, if hollow, truce

between the religious parties, and a sham reconciliation between the

Emperor and his brethren. The forlorn Rudolph moped away the few months

of life left to him in the Hradschin, and died 1612 soon after the new

year. The House of Austria had not been divided, Matthias succeeded his

brother, Leopold's visions melted into air, and it was for the future to

reveal whether the Majesty-Letter and the Compromise had been written on

very durable material.

And while such was the condition of affairs in Germany immediately

following the Cleve and Julich campaign, the relations of the Republic

both to England and France were become rapidly more dangerous than they

ever had been. It was a severe task for Barneveld, and enough to overtax

the energies of any statesman, to maintain his hold on two such slippery

governments as both had become since the death of their great monarchs.

It had been an easier task for William the Silent to steer his course,

notwithstanding all the perversities, short-comings, brow-beatings, and

inconsistencies that he had been obliged to endure from Elizabeth and

Henry. Genius, however capricious and erratic at times, has at least

vision, and it needed no elaborate arguments to prove to both those

sovereigns that the severance of their policy from that of the

Netherlands was impossible without ruin to the Republic and

incalculable danger themselves.

But now France and England were both tending towards Spain through a

stupidity on the part of their rulers such as the gods are said to

contend against in vain. Barneveld was not a god nor a hero, but a

courageous and wide-seeing statesman, and he did his best. Obliged by

his position to affect admiration, or at least respect, where no emotion

but contempt was possible, his daily bread was bitter enough. It was

absolutely necessary to humour those whom knew to be traversing his

policy and desiring his ruin, for there was no other way to serve his

country and save it from impending danger. So long as he was faithfully

served by his subordinates, and not betrayed by those to whom he gave his

heart, he could confront external enemies and mould the policy of

wavering allies.

Few things in history are more pitiable than the position of James in

regard to Spain. For seven long years he was as one entranced, the slave

to one idea, a Spanish marriage for his son. It was in vain that his

counsellors argued, Parliament protested, allies implored. Parliament

was told that a royal family matter regarded himself alone, and that

interference on their part was an impertinence. Parliament's duty was a

simple one, to give him advice if he asked it, and money when he required

it, without asking for reasons. It was already a great concession that

he should ask for it in person. They had nothing to do with his affairs

nor with general politics. The mystery of government was a science

beyond their reach, and with which they were not to meddle. "Ne sutor

ultra crepidam," said the pedant.

Upon that one point his policy was made to turn. Spain held him in the

hollow of her hand. The Infanta, with two million crowns in dowry, was

promised, withheld, brought forward again like a puppet to please or

irritate a froward child. Gondemar, the Spanish ambassador, held him

spellbound. Did he falter in his opposition to the States--did he cease

to goad them for their policy in the duchies--did he express sympathy

with Bohemian Protestantism, or, as time went on, did he dare to lift a

finger or touch his pocket in behalf of his daughter and the unlucky

Elector-Palatine; did he, in short, move a step in the road which England

had ever trod and was bound to tread--the road of determined resistance

to Spanish ambition--instantaneously the Infanta withheld, and James was

on his knees again. A few years later, when the great Raleigh returned

from his trans-Alantic expedition, Gondemar fiercely denounced him to the

King as the worst enemy of Spain. The usual threat was made, the wand

was waved, and the noblest head in England fell upon the block, in

pursuance of an obsolete sentence fourteen years old.

It is necessary to hold fast this single clue to the crooked and amazing

entanglements of the policy of James. The insolence, the meanness, and

the prevarications of this royal toad-eater are only thus explained.

Yet Philip III. declared on his death-bed that he had never had a

serious intention of bestowing his daughter on the Prince.

The vanity and the hatreds of theology furnished the chief additional

material in the policy of James towards the Provinces. The diplomacy of

his reign so far as the Republic was concerned is often a mere mass of

controversial divinity, and gloomy enough of its kind. Exactly at this

moment Conrad Vorstius had been called by the University of Leyden to the

professorship vacant by the death of Arminius, and the wrath of Peter

Plancius and the whole orthodox party knew no bounds. Born in Cologne,

Vorstius had been a lecturer in Geneva, and beloved by Beza. He had

written a book against the Jesuit Belarmino, which he had dedicated to

the States-General. But he was now accused of Arminianism, Socianism,

Pelagianism, Atheism--one knew not what. He defended himself in writing

against these various charges, and declared himself a believer in the

Trinity, in the Divinity of Christ, in the Atonement. But he had written

a book on the Nature of God, and the wrath of Gomarus and Plancius and

Bogerman was as nothing to the ire of James when that treatise was one

day handed to him on returning from hunting. He had scarcely looked into

it before he was horror-struck, and instantly wrote to Sir Ralph Winwood,

his ambassador at the Hague, ordering him to insist that this blasphemous

monster should at once be removed from the country. Who but James knew

anything of the Nature of God, for had he not written a work in Latin

explaining it all, so that humbler beings might read and be instructed.

Sir Ralph accordingly delivered a long sermon to the States on the brief

supplied by his Majesty, told them that to have Vorstius as successor to

Arminius was to fall out of the frying-pan into the fire, and handed them

a "catalogue" prepared by the King of the blasphemies, heresies, and

atheisms of the Professor. "Notwithstanding that the man in full

assembly of the States of Holland," said the Ambassador with headlong and

confused rhetoric, "had found the means to palliate and plaster the dung

of his heresies, and thus to dazzle the eyes of good people," yet it was

necessary to protest most vigorously against such an appointment, and to

advise that "his works should be publicly burned in the open places of

all the cities."

The Professor never was admitted to perform his functions of theology,

but he remained at Leyden, so Winwood complained, "honoured, recognized

as a singularity and ornament to the Academy in place of the late Joseph

Scaliger."--"The friendship of the King and the heresy of Vorstius are

quite incompatible," said the Envoy.

Meantime the Advocate, much distressed at the animosity of England

bursting forth so violently on occasion of the appointment of a divinity

professor at Leyden, and at the very instant too when all the acuteness

of his intellect was taxed to keep on good or even safe terms with

France, did his best to stem these opposing currents. His private

letters to his old and confidential friend, Noel de Carom, States'

ambassador in London, reveal the perplexities of his soul and the upright

patriotism by which he was guided in these gathering storms. And this

correspondence, as well as that maintained by him at a little later

period with the successor of Aerssens at Paris, will be seen subsequently

to have had a direct and most important bearing upon the policy of the

Republic and upon his own fate. It is necessary therefore that the

reader, interested in these complicated affairs which were soon to bring

on a sanguinary war on a scale even vaster than the one which had been

temporarily suspended, should give close attention to papers never before

exhumed from the musty sepulchre of national archives, although

constantly alluded to in the records of important state trials. It is

strange enough to observe the apparent triviality of the circumstances

out of which gravest events seem to follow. But the circumstances were

in reality threads of iron which led down to the very foundations of the

earth.

"I wish to know," wrote the Advocate to Caron, "from whom the Archbishop

of Canterbury received the advices concerning Vorstius in order to find

out what is meant by all this."

It will be remembered that Whitgift was of opinion that James was

directly inspired by the Holy Ghost, and that as he affected to deem him

the anointed High-priest of England, it was natural that he should

encourage the King in his claims to be 'Pontifex maximus' for the

Netherlands likewise.

"We are busy here," continued Barneveld, "in examining all things for the

best interests of the country and the churches. I find the nobles and

cities here well resolved in this regard, although there be some

disagreements 'in modo.' Vorstius, having been for many years professor

and minister of theology at Steinfurt, having manifested his learning in

many books written against the Jesuits, and proved himself pure and

moderate in doctrine, has been called to the vacant professorship at

Leyden. This appointment is now countermined by various means.

We are doing our best to arrange everything for the highest good of the

Provinces and the churches. Believe this and believe nothing else. Pay

heed to no other information. Remember what took place in Flanders,

events so well known to you. It is not for me to pass judgment in these

matters. Do you, too, suspend your judgment."

The Advocate's allusion was to the memorable course of affairs in

Flanders at an epoch when many of the most inflammatory preachers and

politicians of the Reformed religion, men who refused to employ a footman

or a housemaid not certified to be thoroughly orthodox, subsequently

after much sedition and disturbance went over to Spain and the Catholic

religion.

A few weeks later Barneveld sent copies to Caron of the latest harangues

of Winwood in the Assembly and the reply of My Lords on the Vorstian

business; that is to say, the freshest dialogue on predestination between

the King and the Advocate. For as James always dictated word for word

the orations of his envoy, so had their Mightinesses at this period no

head and no mouthpiece save Barneveld alone. Nothing could be drearier

than these controversies, and the reader shall be spared as much, as

possible the infliction of reading them. It will be necessary, however,

for the proper understanding of subsequent events that he should be

familiar with portions of the Advocate's confidential letters.

"Sound well the gentleman you wot of," said Barneveld, "and other

personages as to the conclusive opinions over there. The course of the

propositions does not harmonize with what I have myself heard out of the

King's mouth at other times, nor with the reports of former ambassadors.

I cannot well understand that the King should, with such preciseness,

condemn all other opinions save those of Calvin and Beza. It is

important to the service of this country that one should know the

final intention of his Majesty."

And this was the misery of the position. For it was soon to appear that

the King's definite and final intentions, varied from day to day. It was

almost humorous to find him at that moment condemning all opinions but

those of Calvin and Beza in Holland, while his course to the strictest

confessors of that creed in England was so ferocious.

But Vorstius was a rival author to his Majesty on subjects treated of by

both, so that literary spite of the most venomous kind, stirred into

theological hatred, was making a dangerous mixture. Had a man with the

soul and sense of the Advocate sat on the throne which James was

regarding at that moment as a professor's chair, the world's history

would have been changed.

"I fear," continued Barneveld, "that some of our own precisians have been

spinning this coil for us over there, and if the civil authority can be

thus countermined, things will go as in Flanders in your time. Pray

continue to be observant, discreet, and moderate."

The Advocate continued to use his best efforts to smooth the rising

waves. He humoured and even flattered the King, although perpetually

denounced by Winwood in his letters to his sovereign as tyrannical,

over-bearing, malignant, and treacherous. He did his best to counsel

moderation and mutual toleration, for he felt that these needless

theological disputes about an abstract and insoluble problem of casuistry

were digging an abyss in which the Republic might be swallowed up for

ever. If ever man worked steadily with the best lights of experience

and inborn sagacity for the good of his country and in defence of a

constitutional government, horribly defective certainly, but the only

legal one, and on the whole a more liberal polity than any then existing,

it was Barneveld. Courageously, steadily, but most patiently, he stood

upon that position so vital and daily so madly assailed; the defence of

the civil authority against the priesthood. He felt instinctively and

keenly that where any portion of the subjects or citizens of a country

can escape from the control of government and obey other head than the

lawful sovereignty, whether monarchical or republican, social disorder

and anarchy must be ever impending.

"We are still tortured by ecclesiastical disputes," he wrote a few weeks

later to Caron. "Besides many libels which have appeared in print, the

letters of his Majesty and the harangues of Winwood have been published;

to what end you who know these things by experience can judge. The truth

of the matter of Vorstius is that he was legally called in July 1610,

that he was heard last May before My Lords the States with six preachers

to oppose him, and in the same month duly accepted and placed in office.

He has given no public lectures as yet. You will cause this to be known

on fitting opportunity. Believe and cause to be believed that his

Majesty's letters and Sir R. Winwood's propositions have been and shall

be well considered, and that I am working with all my strength to that

end. You know the constitution of our country, and can explain

everything for the best. Many pious and intelligent people in this State

hold themselves assured that his Majesty according to his royal exceeding

great wisdom, foresight, and affection for the welfare of this land will

not approve that his letters and Winwood's propositions should be

scattered by the press among the common people. Believe and cause to

be believed, to your best ability, that My Lords the States of Holland

desire to maintain the true Christian, Reformed religion as well in the

University of Leyden as in all their cities and villages. The only

dispute is on the high points of predestination and its adjuncts,

concerning which moderation and a more temperate teaching is furthered

by some amongst us. Many think that such is the edifying practice in

England. Pray have the kindness to send me the English Confession of

the year 1572, with the corrections and alterations up to this year."

But the fires were growing hotter, fanned especially by Flemish

ministers, a brotherhood of whom Barneveld had an especial distrust, and

who certainly felt great animosity to him. His moderate counsels were

but oil to the flames. He was already depicted by zealots and

calumniators as false to the Reformed creed.

"Be assured and assure others," he wrote again to Caron, "that in the

matter of religion I am, and by God's grace shall remain, what I ever

have been. Make the same assurances as to my son-in-law and brother.

We are not a little amazed that a few extraordinary Puritans, mostly

Flemings and Frisians, who but a short time ago had neither property nor

kindred in the country, and have now very little of either, and who have

given but slender proofs of constancy or service to the fatherland, could

through pretended zeal gain credit over there against men well proved in

all respects. We wonder the more because they are endeavouring, in

ecclesiastical matters at least, to usurp an extraordinary authority,

against which his Majesty, with very weighty reasons, has so many times

declared his opinion founded upon God's Word and upon all laws and

principles of justice."

It was Barneveld's practice on this as on subsequent occasions very

courteously to confute the King out of his own writings and speeches,

and by so doing to be unconsciously accumulating an undying hatred

against himself in the royal breast. Certainly nothing could be easier

than to show that James, while encouraging in so reckless a manner the

emancipation of the ministers of an advanced sect in the Reformed Church

from control of government, and their usurpation of supreme authority

which had been destroyed in England, was outdoing himself in dogmatism

and inconsistency. A king-highpriest, who dictated his supreme will to

bishops and ministers as well as to courts and parliaments, was

ludicrously employed in a foreign country in enforcing the superiority

of the Church to the State.

"You will give good assurances," said the Advocate, "upon my word, that

the conservation of the true Reformed religion is as warmly cherished

here, especially by me, as at any time during the war."

He next alluded to the charges then considered very grave against certain

writings of Vorstius, and with equal fairness to his accusers as he had

been to the Professor gave a pledge that the subject should be examined.

"If the man in question," he said, "be the author, as perhaps falsely

imputed, of the work 'De Filiatione Christi' or things of that sort, you

may be sure that he shall have no furtherance here." He complained,

however, that before proof the cause was much prejudiced by the

circulation through the press of letters on the subject from important

personages in England. His own efforts to do justice in the matter were

traversed by such machinations. If the Professor proved to be guilty of

publications fairly to be deemed atheistical and blasphemous, he should

be debarred from his functions, but the outcry from England was doing

more harm than good.

"The published extract from the letter of the Archbishop," he wrote,

"to the effect that the King will declare My Lords the States to be his

enemies if they are not willing to send the man away is doing much harm."

Truly, if it had come to this--that a King of England was to go to war

with a neighbouring and friendly republic because an obnoxious professor

of theology was not instantly hurled from a university of which his

Majesty was not one of the overseers--it was time to look a little

closely into the functions of governments and the nature of public and

international law. Not that the sword of James was in reality very

likely to be unsheathed, but his shriekings and his scribblings, pacific

as he was himself, were likely to arouse passions which torrents of blood

alone could satiate.

"The publishing and spreading among the community," continued Barneveld,

"of M. Winwood's protestations and of many indecent libels are also doing

much mischief, for the nature of this people does not tolerate such

things. I hope, however, to obtain the removal according to his

Majesty's desire. Keep me well informed, and send me word what is

thought in England by the four divines of the book of Vorstius, 'De Deo,'

and of his declarations on the points sent here by his Majesty. Let me

know, too, if there has been any later confession published in England

than that of the year 1562, and whether the nine points pressed in the

year 1595 were accepted and published in 1603. If so, pray send them,

as they maybe made use of in settling our differences here."

Thus it will be seen that the spirit of conciliation, of a calm but

earnest desire to obtain a firm grasp of the most reasonable relations

between Church and State through patient study of the phenomena exhibited

in other countries, were the leading motives of the man. Yet he was

perpetually denounced in private as an unbeliever, an atheist, a tyrant,

because he resisted dictation from the clergy within the Provinces and

from kings outside them.

"It was always held here to be one of the chief infractions of the laws

and privileges of this country," he said, "that former princes had placed

themselves in matter of religion in the tutelage of the Pope and the

Spanish Inquisition, and that they therefore on complaint of their good

subjects could take no orders on that subject. Therefore it cannot be

considered strange that we are not willing here to fall into the same

obloquy. That one should now choose to turn the magistrates, who were

once so seriously summoned on their conscience and their office to adopt

the Reformation and to take the matter of religion to heart, into

ignorants, to deprive them of knowledge, and to cause them to see with

other eyes than their own, cannot by many be considered right and

reasonable. 'Intelligenti pauca.'"

[The interesting letter from which I have given these copious

extracts was ordered by its writer to be burned. "Lecta vulcano"

was noted at the end of it, as was not unfrequently the case with

the Advocate. It never was burned; but, innocent and reasonable as

it seems, was made use of by Barneveld's enemies with deadly effect.

J.L.M.]

Life and Death of John of Barneveld, Advocate of Holland : with a view of the primary causes and movements of the Thirty Years' War, 1610c-12 · 第 1 / 3 段