CHAPTER V

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DISCONTENT IN THE NETHERLANDS.

The Reformation.--Its Progress in the Netherlands.--General Discontent.--William of Orange.

The middle of the sixteenth century presented one of those crises which have occurred at long intervals in the history of Europe, when the course of events has had a permanent influence on the destiny of nations. Scarcely forty years had elapsed since Luther had thrown down the gauntlet to the Vatican, by publicly burning the papal bull at Wittenberg. Since that time, his doctrines had been received in Denmark and Sweden. In England, after a state of vacillation for three reigns, Protestantism, in the peculiar form which it still wears, was become the established religion of the state. The fiery cross had gone round over the hills and valleys of Scotland, and thousands and tens of thousands had gathered to hear the word of life from the lips of Knox. The doctrines of Luther were spread over the northern parts of Germany, and freedom of worship was finally guarantied there, by the treaty of Passau. The Low Countries were the "debatable land," on which the various sects of Reformers, the Lutheran, the Calvinist, the English Protestant, contended for mastery with the established church. Calvinism was embraced by some of the cantons of Switzerland, and at Geneva its great apostle had fixed his head-quarters. His doctrines were widely circulated through France, till the divided nation was preparing to plunge into that worst of all wars, in which the hand of brother is raised against brother. The cry of reform had even passed the Alps, and was heard under the walls of the Vatican. It had crossed the Pyrenees. The king of Navarre declared himself a Protestant; and the spirit of the Reformation had secretly insinuated itself into Spain, and taken hold, as we have seen, of the middle and southern provinces of the kingdom.

A contemporary of the period, who reflected on the onward march of the new religion over every obstacle in its path, who had seen it gather under its banners states and nations once the most loyal and potent vassals of Rome, would have had little reason to doubt that, before the end of the century, the Reform would have extended its sway over the whole of Christendom. Fortunately for Catholicism, the most powerful empire in Europe was in the hands of a prince who was devoted with his whole soul to the interests of the Church. Philip the Second understood the importance of his position. His whole life proves that he felt it to be his especial mission to employ his great resources to restore the tottering fortunes of Catholicism, and stay the progress of the torrent which was sweeping away every landmark of the primitive faith.

We have seen the manner in which he crushed the efforts of the Protestants in Spain. This was the first severe blow struck at the Reformation. Its consequences cannot well be exaggerated; not the immediate results, which would have been little without the subsequent reforms and increased activity of the Church of Rome itself. But the moral influence of such a blow, when the minds of men had been depressed by a long series of reverses, is not to be estimated. In view of this, one of the most eminent Roman Catholic writers does not hesitate to remark, that "the power and abilities of Philip the Second afforded a counterpoise to the Protestant cause, which prevented it from making itself master of Europe."[491] The blow was struck; and from this period little beyond its present conquests was to be gained for the cause of the Reformation.

[Sidenote: REFORMATION IN THE NETHERLANDS.]

It was not to be expected that Philip, after having exterminated heresy in one part of his dominions, should tolerate its existence in any other, least of all, in a country so important as the Netherlands. Yet a little reflection might have satisfied him that the same system of measures could hardly be applied with a prospect of success to two countries so differently situated as Spain and the Netherlands. The Romish faith may be said to have entered into the being of the Spaniard. It was not merely cherished as a form of religion, but as a principle of honor. It was part of the national history. For eight centuries the Spaniard had been fighting at home the battles of the Church. Nearly every inch of soil in his own country was won by arms from the infidel. His wars, as I have more than once had occasion to remark, were all wars of religion. He carried the same spirit across the waters. There he was still fighting the infidel. His life was one long crusade. How could this champion of the Church desert her in her utmost need?

With this predisposition, it was easy for Philip to enforce obedience in a people naturally the most loyal to their princes, to whom, moreover, since the fatal war of the _Comunidades_, they had been accustomed to pay an almost Oriental submission. Intrenched behind the wall of the Pyrenees, Spain, we must bear in mind, felt little of the great shock which was convulsing France and the other states of Europe; and with the aid of so formidable an engine as the Inquisition, it was easy to exterminate, before they could take root, such seeds of heresy as had been borne by the storm across the mountains.

The Netherlands, on the other hand, lay like a valley among the hills, which drinks in all the waters of the surrounding country. They were a common reservoir for the various opinions which agitated the nations on their borders. On the south were the Lutherans of Germany. The French Huguenots pressed them on the west; and by the ocean they held communication with England and the nations of the Baltic. The soldier quartered on their territory, the seaman who visited their shores, the trader who trafficked in their towns, brought with them different forms of the new religion. Books from France and from Germany circulated widely among a people, nearly all of whom, as we have seen, were able to read.

The new doctrines were discussed by men accustomed to think and act for themselves. Freedom of speculation on religious topics soon extended to political. It was the natural tendency of reform. The same spirit of free inquiry which attacked the foundations of unity of faith, stood ready next to assail those of unity of government; and men began boldly to criticize the rights of kings and the duties of subjects.

The spirit of independence was fostered by the institutions of the country. The provinces of the Netherlands, if not republican in form, were filled with the spirit of republics. In many of their features they call to mind the free states of Italy in the Middle Ages. Under the petty princes who ruled over them in early days, they had obtained charters, as we have seen, which secured a certain degree of constitutional freedom. The province of Brabant, above all, gloried in its "_Joyeuse Entrée_," which guarantied privileges and immunities of a more liberal character than those possessed by the other states of the Netherlands. When the provinces passed at length under the sceptre of a single sovereign, he lived at a distance, and the government was committed to a viceroy. Since their connection with Spain, the administration had been for the most part in the hands of a woman; and the delegated authority of a woman pressed but lightly on the independent temper of the Flemings.

Yet Charles the Fifth, as we have seen, partial as he was to his countrymen in the Netherlands, could ill brook their audacious spirit, and made vigorous efforts to repress it. But his zeal for the spiritual welfare of his people never led him to overlook their material interests. He had no design by his punishments to cripple their strength, much less to urge them to extremity. When the regent, Mary of Hungary, his sister, warned him that his laws bore too heavily on the people to be endured, he was careful to mitigate their severity. His edicts in the name of religion were, indeed, written in blood. But the frequency of their repetition shows, as already remarked, the imperfect manner in which they were executed. This was still further proved by the prosperous condition of the people, the flourishing aspect of the various branches of industry, and the great enterprises to facilitate commercial intercourse and foster the activity of the country. At the close of Charles's reign, or rather at the commencement of his successor's, in 1560, was completed the grand canal extending from Antwerp to Brussels, the construction of which had consumed thirty years, and one million eight hundred thousand florins.[492] Such a work, at such a period,--the fruit, not of royal patronage, but of the public spirit of the citizens,--is evidence both of large resources and of wisdom in the direction of them. In this state of things, it is not surprising that the Flemings, feeling their own strength, should have assumed a free and independent tone little grateful to the ear of a sovereign. So far had this spirit of liberty or licence, as it was termed, increased, in the latter part of the emperor's reign, that the Regent Mary, when her brother abdicated, chose also to resign, declaring, in a letter to him, that "she would not continue to live with, much less to reign over, a people whose manners had undergone such a change,--in whom respect for God and man seemed no longer to exist."[493]

A philosopher who should have contemplated at that day the condition of the country, and the civilization at which it had arrived, might feel satisfied that a system of toleration in religious matters would be the one best suited to the genius of the people and the character of their institutions. But Philip was no philosopher; and toleration was a virtue not understood, at that time, by Calvinist any more than by Catholic. The question, therefore, is not whether the end he proposed was the best one;--on this, few at the present day will differ;--but whether Philip took the best means for effecting that end. This is the point of view from which his conduct in the Netherlands should be criticized.

Here, in the outset, he seems to have fallen into a capital error, by committing so large a share in the government to the hands of a foreigner,--Granvelle. The country was filled with nobles, some of them men of the highest birth, whose ancestors were associated with the most stirring national recollections, and who were endeared, moreover, to their countrymen by their own services. To several of these Philip himself was under no slight obligations for the aid they had afforded him in the late war,--on the fields of Gravelines and St. Quentin, and in the negotiation of the treaty which closed his hostilities with France. It was hardly to be expected that these proud nobles, conscious of their superior claims, and accustomed to so much authority and deference in their own land, would tamely submit to the control of a stranger, a man of obscure family, like his father indebted for his elevation to the royal favor.

[Sidenote: DISCONTENT IN THE NETHERLANDS.]

Besides these great lords, there was a numerous aristocracy, inferior nobles and cavaliers, many of whom had served under the standard of Charles in his long wars. They there formed those formidable companies of _ordonnance_, whose fame perhaps stood higher than that of any other corps of the imperial cavalry. The situation of these men, now disbanded, and, with their roving military habits, hanging loosely on the country, has been compared by a modern author to that which, on the accession of the Bourbons, was occupied by the soldiers whom Napoleon had so often led to victory.[494] To add to their restlessness, many of these, as well as of the higher nobility, were embarrassed by debts contracted in their campaigns, or by too ambitious expenditure at home, especially in rivalry with the ostentatious Spaniard. "The Flemish nobles," says a writer of the time, "were too many of them oppressed by heavy debts and the payment of exorbitant interest. They spent twice as much as they were worth on their palaces, furniture, troops of retainers, costly liveries, their banquets and sumptuous entertainments of every description,--in fine, in every form of luxury and superfluity that could be devised. Thus discontent became prevalent through the country, and men anxiously looked forward to some change."[495]

Still another element of discontent, and one that extended to all classes, was antipathy to the Spaniards. It had not been easy to repress this even under the rule of Charles the Fifth, who had shown such manifest preference for his Flemish subjects. But now it was more decidedly called out, under a monarch, whose sympathies lay altogether on the side of their rivals. No doubt this popular sentiment is to be explained partly by the contrast afforded by the characters of the two nations, so great as hardly to afford a point of contact between them. But it may be fairly charged, to a great extent, on the Spaniards themselves, who, while they displayed many noble and magnanimous traits at home, seemed desirous to exhibit only the repulsive side of their character to the eye of the stranger. Cold and impenetrable, assuming an arrogant tone of superiority over every other nation, in whatever land it was their destiny to be cast, England, Italy, or the Netherlands, as allies or as enemies, we find the Spaniards of that day equally detested. Brought with them, as the people of the Netherlands were, under a common sceptre, a spirit of comparison and rivalry grew up, which induced a thousand causes of irritation.

The difficulty was still further increased by the condition of the neighboring countries, where the minds of the inhabitants were now in the highest state of fermentation in matters of religion. In short, the atmosphere seemed everywhere to be in that highly electrified condition which bodes the coming tempest. In this critical state of things, it was clear that it was only by a most careful and considerate policy that harmony could be maintained in the Netherlands; a policy manifesting alike tenderness for the feelings of the nation and respect for its institutions.

Having thus shown the general aspect of things when the duchess of Parma entered on her regency, towards the close of 1559, it is time to go forward with the narrative of the prominent events which led to the War of the Revolution.

We have already seen that Philip, on leaving the country, lodged the administration nominally in three councils, although in truth it was on the council of state that the weight of government actually rested. Even here the nobles who composed it were of little account in matters of real importance, which were reserved for a _consulta_, consisting, besides the regent, of Granvelle, Count Barlaimont, and the learned jurist Viglius. As the last two were altogether devoted to Granvelle, and the regent was instructed to defer greatly to his judgment, the government of the Netherlands may be said to have been virtually deposited in the hands of the bishop of Arras.

At the head of the Flemish nobles in the council of state, and indeed in the country, taking into view their rank, fortune, and public services, stood Count Egmont and the prince of Orange. I have already given some account of the former, and the reader has seen the important part which he took in the great victories of Gravelines and St. Quentin. To the prince of Orange Philip had also been indebted for his counsel in conducting the war, and still more for the aid which he had afforded in the negotiations for peace. It will be proper, before going further, to give the reader some particulars of this celebrated man, the great leader in the war of the Netherlands.

William, prince of Orange, was born at Dillenburg, in the German duchy of Nassau, on the twenty-fifth of April, 1533. He was descended from a house, one of whose branches had given an emperor to Germany; and William's own ancestors were distinguished by the employments they had held, and the services they had rendered, both in Germany and the Low Countries. It was a proud vaunt of his, that Philip was under larger obligations to him than he to Philip; and that, but for the house of Nassau, the king of Spain would not be able to write as many titles as he now did after his name.[496]

When eleven years old, by the death of his cousin René he came into possession of a large domain in Holland, and a still larger property in Brabant, where he held the title of Lord of Breda. To these was added, the splendid inheritance of Chalons, and of the principality of Orange; which, however, situated at a distance, in the heart of France, might seem to be held by a somewhat precarious tenure.

William's parents were both Lutherans, and in their faith he was educated. But Charles saw with displeasure the false direction thus given to one who at a future day was to occupy so distinguished a position among his Flemish vassals. With the consent of his parents, the child, in his twelfth year, was removed to Brussels, to be brought up in the family of the emperor's sister, the Regent Mary of Hungary. However their consent to this step may be explained, it certainly seems that their zeal for the spiritual welfare of their son was not such as to stand in the way of his temporal. In the family of the regent the youth was bred a Catholic, while in all respects he received an education suited to his rank.[497] It is an interesting fact, that his preceptor was a younger brother of Granvelle,--the man with whom William was afterwards to be placed in an attitude of such bitter hostility.

[Sidenote: WILLIAM OF ORANGE.]

When fifteen years of age, the prince was taken into the imperial household, and became the page of Charles the Fifth. The emperor was not slow in discerning the extraordinary qualities of the youth; and he showed it by intrusting him, as he grew older, with various important commissions. He was accompanied by the prince on his military expeditions, and Charles gave a remarkable proof of his confidence in his capacity, by raising him, at the age of twenty-two, over the heads of veteran officers, and giving him the command of the imperial forces engaged in the siege of Marienburg. During the six months that William was in command, they were still occupied with this siege, and with the construction of a fortress for the protection of Flanders. There was little room for military display. But the troops were in want of food and of money, and their young commander's conduct under these embarrassments was such as to vindicate the wisdom of his appointment. Charles afterwards employed him on several diplomatic missions,--a more congenial field for the exercise of his talents, which appear to have been better suited to civil than to military affairs.

The emperor's regard for the prince seems to have increased with his years, and he gave public proof of it, in the last hour of his reign, by leaning on William's shoulder at the time of his abdication, when he made his parting address to the states of the Netherlands. He showed this still further by selecting him for the honorable mission of bearing the imperial crown to Ferdinand.

On his abdication, Charles earnestly commended William to his successor. Philip profited by his services in the beginning of his reign, when the prince of Orange, who had followed him in the French war, was made one of the four plenipotentiaries for negotiating the treaty of Cateau-Cambresis, for the execution of which he remained as one of the hostages in France.

While at the court of Henry the Second, it will be remembered, the prince became acquainted with the secret designs of the French and Spanish monarchs against the Protestants in their dominions; and he resolved, from that hour, to devote all his strength to expel the "Spanish vermin" from the Netherlands. One must not infer from this, however, that William, at this early period, meditated the design of shaking off the rule of Spain altogether. The object he had in view went no further than to relieve the country from the odious presence of the Spanish troops, and to place the administration in those hands to which it rightfully belonged. They, however, who set a revolution in motion have not always the power to stop it. If they can succeed in giving it a direction, they will probably be carried forward by it beyond their intended limits, until, gathering confidence with success, they aim at an end far higher than that which they had originally proposed. Such, doubtless, was the case with William of Orange.

Notwithstanding the emperor's recommendation, the prince of Orange was not the man whom Philip selected for his confidence. Nor was it possible for William to regard the king with the same feelings which he had entertained for the emperor. To Charles the prince was under obvious obligations for his nurture in early life. His national pride, too, was not wounded by having a Spaniard for his sovereign, since Charles was not by birth, much less in heart, a Spaniard. All this was reversed in Philip, in whom William saw only the representative of a detested race. The prudent reserve which marked the character of each, no doubt, prevented the outward demonstration of their sentiments; but from their

## actions we may readily infer the instinctive aversion which the two

## parties entertained for each other.

At the early age of eighteen, William married Anne of Egmont, daughter of the count of Büren. The connection was a happy one, if we may trust the loving tone of their correspondence. Unhappily, in a few years their union was dissolved by the lady's death. The prince did not long remain a widower, before he made proposals to the daughter of the duchess of Lorraine. The prospect of such a match gave great dissatisfaction to Philip, who had no mind to see his Flemish vassal allied with the family of a great feudatory of France. Disappointed in this quarter, William next paid his addresses to Anne of Saxony, an heiress, whose large possessions made her one of the most brilliant matches in Germany. William's passion and his interest, it was remarked, kept time well together.

The course of love, however, was not destined to run smoothly on the present occasion. Anne was the daughter of Maurice, the great Lutheran champion, the implacable enemy of Charles the Fifth. Left early an orphan, she had been reared in the family of her uncle, the elector of Saxony, in the strictest tenets of the Lutheran faith. Such a connection was, of course, every way distasteful to Philip, to whom William was willing so far to defer as to solicit his approbation, though he did not mean to be controlled by it.[498] The correspondence on the subject, in which both the regent and Granvelle took an active part, occupies as much space in collections of the period as more important negotiations. The prince endeavored to silence the king's scruples, by declaring that he was too much a Catholic at heart to marry any woman who was not of the same persuasion as himself; and that he had received assurances from the elector that his wife in this respect should entirely conform to his wishes. The elector had scruples as to the match, no less than Philip, though on precisely the opposite grounds; and, after the prince's assurance to the king, one is surprised to find that an understanding must have existed with the elector that Anne should be allowed the undisturbed enjoyment of her own religion.[499] This double dealing leaves a disagreeable impression in regard to William's character. Yet it does not seem, to judge from his later life, to be altogether inconsistent with it. Machiavelli is the author whom he is said to have had most frequently in his hand;[500] and in the policy with which he shaped his course, we may sometimes fancy that we can discern the influence of the Italian statesman.

The marriage was celebrated with great pomp at Leipsic, on the twenty-fifth of August, 1561. The king of Denmark, several of the electors, and many princes and nobles of both Germany and the Low Countries, were invited guests; and the whole assembly present on the occasion was estimated at nearly six thousand persons.[501] The king of Spain complimented the bride by sending her a jewel worth three thousand ducats.[502] It proved, however, as Granvelle had predicted, an ill-assorted union. After living together for nearly thirteen years, the prince, weary of the irregularities of his wife, separated from her, and sent her back to her friends in Germany.

[Sidenote: WILLIAM OF ORANGE.]

During his residence in Brussels, William easily fell into the way of life followed by the Flemish nobles. He was very fond of the healthy exercise of the chase, and especially of hawking. He was social, indeed convivial, in his habits, after the fashion of his countrymen;[503] and was addicted to gallantries, which continued long enough, it is said, to suggest an apology for the disorderly conduct of his wife. He occupied the ancient palace of his family at Brussels, where he was surrounded by lords and cavaliers, and a numerous retinue of menials.[504] He lived in great state, displaying a profuse magnificence in his entertainments; and few there were, natives or foreigners, who had any claim on his hospitality, that did not receive it.[505] By this expensive way of life, he encumbered his estate with a heavy debt; amounting, if we may take Granvelle's word, to nine hundred thousand florins.[506] Yet, if William's own account, but one year later, be true, the debt was then brought within a very moderate compass.[507]

With his genial habits and love of pleasure, and with manners the most attractive, he had not the free and open temper which often goes along with them. He was called by his contemporaries "William the Silent." Perhaps the epithet was intended to indicate not so much his taciturnity, as that impenetrable reserve which locked up his secrets closely within his bosom. No man knew better how to keep his counsel, even from those who acted with him. But while masking his own designs, no man was more sagacious in penetrating those of others. He carried on an extensive correspondence in foreign countries, and employed every means for getting information. Thus, while he had it in his power to outwit others, it was very rare that he became their dupe. Though on ordinary occasions frugal of words, when he did speak it was with effect. His eloquence was of the most persuasive kind;[508] and as towards his inferiors he was affable, and exceedingly considerate of their feelings, he acquired an unbounded ascendancy over his countrymen.[509] It must be admitted that the prince of Orange possessed many rare qualities for the leader of a great revolution.

The course William took in respect to his wife's religion might lead one to doubt whether he were at heart Catholic or Protestant; or indeed whether he were not equally indifferent to both persuasions. The latter opinion might be strengthened by a remark imputed to him, that "he would not have his wife trouble herself with such melancholy books as the Scriptures, but instead of them amuse herself with Amadis de Gaul, and other pleasant works of the kind."[510] "The prince of Orange," says a writer of the time, "passed for a Catholic among Catholics, a Lutheran among Lutherans. If he could, he would have had a religion compounded of both. In truth, he looked on the Christian religion like the ceremonies which Numa introduced, as a sort of politic invention."[511] Granvelle, in a letter to Philip, speaks much to the same purpose.[512] These portraits were by unfriendly hands. Those who take a different view of his character, while they admit that in his early days his opinions in matters of faith were unsettled, contend that in time he became sincerely attached to the doctrines which he defended with his sword. This seems to be no more than natural. But the reader will have an opportunity of judging for himself, when he has followed the great chief through the changes of his stormy career.

It would be strange, indeed, if the leader in a religious revolution should have been himself without any religious convictions. One thing is certain, he possessed a spirit of toleration, the more honorable that in that day it was so rare. He condemned the Calvinists as restless and seditious; the Catholics, for their bigoted attachment to a dogma. Persecution in matters of faith he totally condemned, for freedom of judgment in such matters he regarded as the inalienable right of man.[513] These conclusions, at which the world, after an incalculable amount of human suffering, has been three centuries in arriving, (has it altogether arrived at them yet?) must be allowed to reflect great credit on the character of William.

[Sidenote: GROUNDS OF COMPLAINT.]

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