Chapter 15 of 25 · 3924 words · ~20 min read

Part 15

But in this instance, it must be confessed, that the crime is less liable to awaken the indignation of the historian and his readers, because Might seems to _have made_ Right; this last outrage was not resisted. When Charles V. thus coolly drove the ploughshare of destruction over the constitutional rights of Spain, we cannot but wonderingly inquire, where are those proud and turbulent Aragonese, Catalonians, Castilians, from whom he and his courtiers so narrowly escaped with life, when, in order to force from them 200,000 ducats, he removed the Cortes from Valladolidto Compostella, by an exertion of his royal prerogative? Where are those “Children of Toledo,” invoked by the dying Padilla to take vengeance for the wrongs he suffered in their cause? Whither, oh, whither has fled the spirit of the Holy Junta? What has Spain been doing in these last score of years, that it should be so changed? The ruthless will to destroy their constitutional rights in Charles V.—that can surprise us no longer; that is the inherited spirit, the essence of the family of Hapsburgh. How can any finite thing grow, _except after its kind_? What is wonderful is not that Charles, with the Pope, and Italy, and Flanders at his feet with the imperial army of Germany to execute his behests, so managing by his cold diplomacy and cunning hypocrisy all these forces, that they know not well what they are doing it is not wonderful that all this was too much for the material forces of Spain, or of any nation whatever, but it is wonderful, and it needs explanation, that, in Spain itself, not a battle was fought to sow the blood-seeds of a future harvest, not a solitary voice even uttered the death-shriek of freedom over their blood-honoured, time-honoured constitutional rights at the moment they were finally strangled.

We must, in fact, look in another quite different direction for the explanation of this fact, and, though it takes us a little out of the course of our appointed work, we shall take leave to do so.

Liberty, that uncontained, uncontainable _spirit_, which is the life of all life, at once its origin and its end, _what_ is it, _where_ is it? _Where the Spirit of the Lord is_, says the apostle, _there is liberty_. But let us not repeat these words technically; let us at once, ‘clearing our minds of cant,’ seize upon their meaning. In vain for us is the Spirit of the Lord, unless it is _incarnated_; and yet, when it becomes incarnate, let us realize that none the less is it the uncontained and uncontainable, and to be worshipped as such, neither in the temple nor on the mountain, but in spirit and in truth. Liberty is nothing if it is not the element of _manliness_. It exists for no nation any longer than _manliness_ pervades the people. It is ITSELF EVOLVED from the manliness of a people, and whatever may have been its triumphs on any soil, if the men of that soil change or become no longer manly, we may wander among the palaces or the cottages where they formerly dwelt, and inquire for its whereabout in vain. Man cannot serve two masters, God and mammon. When the moment for Charles V.’s master-stroke came, instead of those men who once startled the echoes of the Sierras of Spain with their NO to the demand of an encroaching royal prerogative, there are _ghouls_ only, that inhabit castle and cottage, city palace and city bizarre; the activity, the energy, the life-blood of the country, has gone over the sea;—for America has been discovered; the gold and silver mines of Mexico and Peru have been opened a far off Eldorado, a _material_ ‘fountain of immortal youth,’ that the _body_ may imbibe, has seized the imagination and addressed every passion of the young men of the commons of Spain. The trees of the garden are so fine for the eyes, that the tree of life, which stands in the midst of the garden, is passed by, until at last the words of doom have been pronounced, and there is no winning the way back, but to fight with the flaming sword which turns every way.

We have said and seen, in the foregoing pages, that the stronghold of liberty is ever in THE COMMONS of a nation; and no nobility is strengthened by manliness any farther, or any longer, than it makes common cause with the rights of the commons. The nobility of Spain deserted the commons in 1521, and this enabled Charles, in 1539, to do, as far as their order was concerned, what we have just recorded. Still there would have been hope for Spain, if—which is a fact very commonly overlooked—the commons had not been far away from sacred fatherland, drinking themselves drunk with the gold they had madly quaffed, after having waded through seas of Indian blood to seize it. But it may be asked, how could so base a quest have carried off noble men? How could manly priests of the spirit of liberty have let the wine of immortality be spilled, while they were rushing madly after what could, at best, be of no value but as the chalice to hold it?

It is the child’s question, who wonders over the story of the chosen people of the Bible, that they could stray away from their invisible God and King after the stone and metal gods of the Pagans. Never was the most sordid of objects so enveloped in the robes of an angel of light. Who does not know that every innocent and lawful affection, every noble and generous plan of usefulness to others, that the interests of science, nay, even those of religion itself, can most easily take on this garb of foreign adventure, after means to attain their object? And were not the emblems of religion—the crosier and the bread of the Lord—used freely by pope and prelate, to mystify and consecrate to the imaginative and superstitious their own desire of action and adventure, even their sordid lust of gold? Let us not revile, but LEARN that liberty is a jealous god, who will have no other gods before her, but inexorably visit on the children’s children the faithlessness of their fathers to the Invisible Source, Guardian, Element, and End of a nation’s life.

We do not pursue the history of Spain through the reigns of the other kings of the House of Austria, although there might be much gathered to illustrate our subject, even as late as the time of the War of Succession, when the Catalonians were faithful to the House of Austria, yet were heartlessly abandoned at last to the House of Bourbon, without any stipulations for mercy made for them by those whose interests they had defended so heroically. We must turn to the history of the Netherlands.

The Netherlands came under the House of Austria, as we have already seen, by the marriage of Maximilian I. with Mary, daughter of Charles the Bold. The constitutional liberties of the people, in some instances, dated as far back as the ninth century. Mr. Grattan, in his History of the Netherlands, says:—

“From the time of Charlemagne, the people of the ancient Menapia formed political associations to raise a barrier against the despotic violence of the Franks. These associations were called _Gilden_, and in the Latin of the times _Gildonia_. They comprised, besides their covenants for mutual protection, an obligation which bound every member to give succour to any other, in cases of illness, conflagration, or shipwreck. But the growing force of these social compacts alarmed the quick-sighted despotism of Charlemagne, and they were, consequently, prohibited both by him and his successors. To give a notion of the importance of this prohibition to the whole of Europe, it is only necessary to state that the most ancient corporations (all which had preceded and engendered the most valuable municipal rights) were nothing more than gilden.

Thus, to draw an example from Great Britain, the corporative charter of Berwick still bears the title of _Charta Gildoniæ_. But the ban of the sovereigns was without efficacy, when opposed to the popular will. The gilden stood their ground; and within a century after the death of Charlemagne, all Flanders was covered with corporate towns.

“This popular opposition took, however, another form in the northern parts of the country, which still bore the common name of Friesland; for there it was not merely local but national. The Frisons succeeded in obtaining the sanction of the monarch to consecrate, as it were, those rights which were established under the ancient forms of government. The fact is undoubted; but the means which they employed are uncertain. It appears most probable that this great privilege was the price of their military services; for they held a high place in the victorious armies of Charlemagne; and Turpin, the old French romancer, alluding to the popular traditions of his time, represents the warriors of Friesland as endowed with the most heroic valor.

“These rights, which the Frisons secured, according to their own statements, from Charlemagne, but most undoubtedly from some one or other of the earliest emperors, consisted, first, in the freedom of every order of citizens; secondly, in the right of property,—a right which admitted no authority of the sovereign to violate by confiscation, except in cases of downright treason; thirdly, in the privilege of trial by none but native judges, and according to their national usages; fourthly, in a very narrow limitation of the military services which they owed to the king; fifthly, in the hereditary title to feudal property, in direct line, on payment of certain dues or rents. These five principal articles sufficed to render Friesland, in its political aspect, totally different from the other portions of the monarchy. Their privileges secured, their property inviolable, their duties limited, the Frisons were altogether free from the servitude which weighed down France. It will soon be seen that these special advantages produced a government nearly analogous to that which Magna Charta was the means of founding at a later period in England.”

With respect to Flanders, Grattan also says:—

“It was about the year 1100 that the commons began to possess the privilege of regulating their internal affairs: they appointed their judges and magistrates, and attached to their authority the old custom of ordering all the citizens to assemble or march when the summons of the feudal lord sounded the signal for their assemblage or service. By this means each municipal magistracy had the disposal of a force far superior to those of the nobles, for the population of the towns exceeded both in number and discipline the vassals of the seigniorial lands. And these trained bands of the towns made war in a way very different from that hitherto practised; for the chivalry of the country, making the trade of arms a profession for life, the feuds of the chieftains produced hereditary struggles, almost always slow, and mutually disastrous. But the townsmen, forced to tear themselves from every association of home and its manifold endearments, advanced boldly to the object of the contest; never shrinking from the dangers of war, from fear of that still greater one to be found in a prolonged struggle. It is thus that it may be remarked, during the memorable conflicts of the thirteenth century, that when even the bravest of the knights advised their counts or dukes to grant or demand a truce, the citizen militia never knew but one cry—‘To the charge.’”

With such a background of privilege in their history, it is not strange that the Netherlands should have wished to make terms with Maximilian, before acknowledging his authority. They stipulated for their rights, and in a war which broke out in consequence of his attempt, after the death of Mary, to usurp power, his person was actually seized and imprisoned at Bruges; nor was he released until all Europe interposed; and then, only on conditions which, with the perfidy characteristic of his house, he violated as soon as he was free. “For,” as Mr. Grattan says, “these kind of compacts were never observed by the princes of those days, beyond the actual period of their capacity to violate them. The emperor having entered the Netherlands at the head of 40,000 men, Maximilian, so supported, soon showed his contempt for the obligations he had sworn to, and had recourse to force for the extension of his authority. The valour of the Flemings and the military talents of their leader, Philip of Cleves, thwarted all his projects, and a new compromise was entered into. Flanders paid a large subsidy, and held fast her rights. The German troops were sent into Holland, and employed for the extinction of the Hoeks; who, as they formed by far the weaker faction, were now soon destroyed. That province, which had been so long distracted by its intestine feuds, and which had consequently played but an insignificant part in the transactions of the Netherlands, now resumed its place; and acquired thenceforth new honor, till it at length came to figure in all the importance of historical distinction.”

On obtaining the imperial crown, Maximilian was able to leave the scene of trouble, and invest Philip I. with the government of the Netherlands. The latter ensured his quiet possession of the place by renouncing all pretensions to Friesland, re-establishing commercial relations with England, whom Maximilian had offended, and taking care to consult the States-General on his projects of marriage with Joanna of Castile. His reign was rendered remarkable by the war of Friesland in defence of its independence against Albert of Saxony, to whom Maximilian had, as emperor, granted the stadtholdership, as reward for services rendered. In this war Albert took by assault the town of Leuwaarden, on which occasion he had all the chief burghers _impaled_. But, fortunately for the country, he died in 1500, without having succeeded in his projects of usurpation.

In what spirit Charles V. treated his paternal heritage, may be judged by his conduct towards Ghent, when it attempted, in 1529, “to vindicate its rights and privileges against the exactions of his sister Margaret, whom Maximilian had made Governess of the Netherlands,” after the death of Philip.

We quote the words of Robertson:—

“Having received orders from her brother to invade France, with all the forces she could raise, she assembled the States of the United Provinces, and obtained from them a subsidy of 1,200,000 florins, to defray the expense of that undertaking. Of this sum, the county of Flanders was obliged to pay a third part as its proportion. But the citizens of Ghent, the most considerable city in that country, averse to a war with France, with which they carried on an extensive and gainful commerce, refused to pay their quota, and contended, that in consequence of stipulations between them and the ancestors of their present sovereign, the Emperor, no tax could be levied upon them, unless they had given their express consent to the imposition of it. The governess, on the other hand, maintained, that as the subsidy of 1,200,000 florins had been granted by the States of Flanders, of which their representatives were members, they were bound, of course, to conform to what was enacted by them, as it is the first principle in society on which the tranquillity and order of government depend, that the inclinations of the minority must be overruled by the judgment and decision of the superior number. The citizens of Ghent, however, were not willing to relinquish a privilege of such high importance as that which they claimed. Having been accustomed, under the government of the house of Burgundy, to enjoy extensive immunities, and to be treated with much indulgence, they disdained to sacrifice to the delegated power of a regent, those rights and liberties which they had often and successfully asserted against their greatest princes. The queen, though she endeavoured at first to soothe them, and to reconcile them to their duty by various concessions, was at last so much irritated by the obstinacy with which they adhered to their claim, that she ordered all the citizens of Ghent, on whom she could lay hold, in any part of the Netherlands, to be arrested. But this rash action made an impression very different from what she expected, on men whose minds were agitated with all the violent passions which indignation at oppression and zeal for liberty inspire. Less affected with the danger of their friends and companions, than irritated at the governess, they openly despised her authority and sent deputies to the other towns of Flanders, conjuring them not to abandon their country at such a juncture, but to concur with them in vindicating its rights against the encroachments of a woman who either did not know or did not regard their immunities. All but a few inconsiderable towns declined entering into a confederacy against the governess; they joined, however, in petitioning her to put off the term for payment of the tax so long, that they might have it in their power to send some of their number into Spain, in order to lay their title to exemption before their sovereign. This she granted with some difficulty. But Charles received their commissioners with an haughtiness to which they were not accustomed from their ancient princes, and enjoining them to yield the same respectful obedience to his sister, which they owed to him in person, remitted the examination of their claim to the council of Malines. This court, which is properly a standing committee of the parliament, or States of the country, and which possesses the supreme jurisdiction in all matters, civil as well as criminal, pronounced the claim of the citizens of Ghent to be ill-founded, and appointed them forthwith to pay their proportion of the tax.”

An insurrection was the consequence, in which the Netherlanders relied upon the assistance of Charles’s enemy, the king of France. But it was the interest or the humour of Francis, at the moment, rather to communicate their intentions to the emperor, to whom he at the same time granted a free passage through his dominions to the Netherlands. Thus abandoned, as Robertson continues:

“The near approach of danger made them at last so sensible of their own folly, that they sent ambassadors to Charles, imploring his mercy, and offering to set open their gates at his approach. The emperor, without vouchsafing any other answer, than that he would appear among them as their sovereign, with sceptre and sword in his hand, began his march at the head of his troops. Though he chose to enter the city on the twenty-fourth of February, his birth-day, he was touched with nothing of that tenderness or indulgence which was natural toward the place of his nativity. Twenty-six of the principal citizens were put to death; a greater number was sent into banishment; _the city was declared to have forfeited all its privileges and immunities_; the revenues belonging to it were confiscated; _its ancient form of government was abolished_; the nomination of its magistrates was vested for the future in the emperor and his successors; _a new system of laws and political administration was prescribed_; and, in order to bridle the seditious spirit of the citizens, orders were given to erect a strong citadel, for defraying the expense of which a fine of 180,000 florins was imposed on the inhabitants, together with an annual tax of 6,000 florins for the support of the garrison. By these rigorous proceedings, Charles not only punished the citizens of Ghent, but set an awful example of severity before the other subjects in the Netherlands, whose immunities and privileges, _partly the effect, partly the cause of their extensive commerce_, circumscribed the prerogative of their sovereign within very narrow bounds, and often stood in the way of measures which he wished to undertake, or fettered and retarded him in his operations.”

We do not relate the shameful conduct of Charles to Francis, at this time, being obliged by the limitations of our plan to confine ourselves principally to the crimes of the House of Austria against liberty and law, and to omit its bad faith towards brother despots.

Before we go on to speak of the atrocious reign of Philip II. over the Netherlands, we will copy a paragraph from Mr. Grattan, in which is described the condition of the country at the time of his accession, which he introduces with some references to the causes of its prosperity.

“The amazing increase of commerce was, above all other considerations, the cause of the growth of liberty in the Netherlands. The Reformation opened the minds of men to that intellectual freedom, without which political enfranchisement is a worthless privilege. The invention of printing opened a thousand channels to the flow of erudition and talent, and sent them out from the reservoirs of individual possession to fertilise the whole domain of human nature. War, which seems to be an instinct of man, and which particular instances of heroism often raise to the dignity of a passion, was reduced to a science, and made subservient to those great principles of policy in which society began to perceive its only chance of durable good. Manufactures attained a state of high perfection, and went on progressively with the growth of wealth and luxury. The opulence of the towns of Brabant and Flanders was without any previous example in the state of Europe. A merchant of Bruges took upon himself alone the security for the ransom of John the Fearless, taken at the battle of Nicopolis, amounting to 200,000 ducats. A provost of Valenciennes repaired to Paris at one of the great fairs periodically held there, and purchased on his own account every article that was for sale. At a repast given by one of the counts of Flanders to the Flemish magistrates, the seats they occupied were unfurnished with cushions. Those proud burghers folded their sumptuous cloaks and sat on them. After the feast they were retiring without retaining these important and costly articles of dress; and on a courtier reminding them of their apparent neglect, the burgomaster of Bruges replied, ‘We Flemings are not in the habit of carrying away the cushions after dinner!’ The meetings of the different towns for the sports of archery were signalised by the most splendid display of dress and decoration. The archers were habited in silk, damask, and the finest linen, and carried chains of gold of great weight and value. Luxury was at its height among women. The queen of Philip the Fair of France, on a visit to Bruges, exclaimed, with astonishment not unmixed with envy, I thought myself the only queen here; but I see six hundred others who appear more so than I.

“The external relations of the country presented an aspect of prosperity and peace. England was closely allied to it by queen Mary’s marriage with Philip; France, fatigued with war, had just concluded with it a five years’ truce; Germany, paralyzed by religious dissensions, exhausted itself in domestic quarrels; the other states were too distant or too weak to inspire any uneasiness; and nothing appeared wanting for the public weal. Nevertheless there was something dangerous and alarming in the situation of the Low Countries; but the danger consisted wholly in the connection between the monarch and the people, and the alarm was not sounded till the mischief was beyond remedy.