BOOK III.

SPAIN AND THE NETHERLANDS.

 

CHAPTER I.

THE SPANISH MONARCHY.

 

The power exercised by Charles V had come to him from different sources. He had gathered it into his hands not because he was the representative of any great political idea, but because he was the heir of many ruling-families. Charles V had been educated in Flanders under the care of his aunt, from whom he imbibed the principles of the old Burgundian policy. His great-grandfather on his father's side, Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, had done his best to break down the power of the King of France, and had formed the plan of creating a separate kingdom along the Rhine, embracing his dominions of Burgundy and the Netherlands. His attempt had failed, and the French king had seized upon his Burgundian domains. It was the first object of Charles V to recover these possessions from France.

At first Charles began to govern in the interests of the Flemings; but this was so distasteful to the Castilians that it provoked a serious rebellion. Charles saw his mistake, and detached himself for the future from any special connection with any one of the countries under his rule. He governed Castile, Aragon, the Netherlands, Germany, Milan, Naples, Sicily, besides settlements in Africa and the New World. But over all these he ruled by a different title, and exercised a different power. One great object of his reign had been to make his power supreme in each of these his dominions, and to weld them together by means of a common administrative system.

To a great extent Charles V succeeded. In Castile, Milan, Naples and Sicily, the royal power secured its supremacy by pitting against one another contending parties in the old constitution, while it made good its own position as against them both. In Germany we have seen that Charles V did not succeed in securing the permanent supremacy of his own house. In the Netherlands he saw the necessity of behaving with moderation and of respecting the constitutional privileges of the several provinces. For the Netherlands were the wealthiest part of his dominions, and had always been engaged in commerce. The great trading cities each possessed its charter, and they were willing to grant money only when this charter was rigidly respected.

It was from the cities of the Netherlands that Charles V had raised the greater part of the money that had enabled him to carry on his war with France. He was too prudent to quarrel with the people of these provinces, or attempt to make any changes in their constitution. The government was carried on by means of a perpetual balance between the power of the prince and the rights of the provinces and cities. The Netherlands gave Charles money liberally; but they asserted that they would do it of their own free will, and would not pay an arbitrary tax. To this Charles answered that he would grant them liberties, but they should not haggle with him like a huckster. On this basis of the recognition of mutual rights by prince and people, the provinces of the Netherlands were loyal to Charles V; they looked upon him as a native prince, for he had been brought up among them.

But under Philip II all this began to change. Philip had been brought up in Castile, and was Spanish in character, in manner, in appearance, in language. His coldness, haughtiness, and pride vexed the Flemings; his reserve seemed to them to be contemptuous. Yet they were loyal to Philip at first. It was the troops of the Netherlands that won for him the decisive battle of St. Quentin and enabled him to make with France the Peace of Cateau Cambresis (1559).

When this had been concluded Philip returned to Spain, which he never left again. Charles V had not ruled in the interest of any one of the countries under his power. He had had no capital, but moved about from place to place according as the necessities of the times demanded. But Philip II first gave to the power which he had inherited a fixed seat in Castile; he founded a Spanish empire, with Madrid as its capital. From Madrid he himself would govern his dominions. The countries over which he ruled were to be regarded as provinces of Spain; they should be cared for by Spanish viceroys, and be treated as members of a great administrative system. This change in the political relations of the countries which formed the dominions of Philip II came gradually. When once it had been made it was most important for the destinies of Europe. If one man were to wield absolutely all the resources of these scattered provinces, if he were to infuse into all these peoples the daring, fierce, fanatical spirit of the Spaniards, if he were to combine them to fight for Spain and Catholicism, the control of the future of Europe would be in his hands.

Philip II

Philip II was profoundly ambitious. Like his ancestors, he believed that to his house belonged the rule of the world. But he was obliged to adapt his character of method to his own individual character and capacity. He was no military leader who could inspire his soldiers by his presence, nor was he a vigorous and genial prince, whose winning and affable manners might create enthusiasm for his rule. But he was a diligent, industrious, calm, and calculating politician. The personal disadvantages and ill-health which prevented him from taking a brilliant part in the affairs of the world might, make him more fit to take a decisive one. Alone, in quietness, unswayed by the passions of combatants and undisturbed by the tumult of discordant advice, he might, as from a height of contemplation, look down upon the complicated affairs of Europe and shape them to his own ends. This was Philip's ideal of life. In the seclusion of his gloomy residence of the Escurial, he aimed at pulling the threads which were to move the course of Europe. From morning to night he sat alone in his cabinet and received the dispatches which poured in from every quarter. All communications were carried on with him by writing, and he was his own chief minister. The dispatches were read and read again, they were marked and underlined and analyzed and commented on in their margin. They were laid aside and carefully weighed and compared laboriously with others; their truth and the integrity of their writers were tested by every means which the ingenuity of a suspicious nature without a spark of affection or sympathy could suggest. At last the conclusion drawn from all this careful thought and comparison of contradictory authorities slowly took shape as a definite plan. All was calmly and deliberately done; when a plan was once formed it was deliberately carried out, and no exultation followed its success, no complaint its failure. Philip was an admirable and conscientious man of business. He set about the task of governing the world as though it had been a trade, and if the world could have been governed by the industry of a painstaking clerk, Philip would have succeeded admirably.

Philip never trusted anyone, but regarded his ministers as instruments for carrying out his schemes. Habitually reserved himself, he listened to everything that was told him without betraying his own feelings. Rival ministers poured out to him their accusations against one another; he listened without being carried away. He allowed a plan to be carried out, but judged it solely by its success, and if it failed he at once abandoned its contriver. None of his ministers were sure of his continued favor. If he distrusted a man, he gave no sign of it till he had gradually detached him from the business in which he was employed, and had deprived him of all means of being harmful; then he suddenly dismissed him.

Philip felt that the weakness of his political position was its unattractiveness and want of interest in the eyes of ordinary men. This interest he secured by completely identifying himself and his policy with the cause of Catholicism. In so doing he was no hypocrite, for he was sincerely religious. But he saw the advantage to be gained by making his own interests coincide with those of the old religion. As the champion of Catholicism he interfered in the affairs of Europe in such a way that the gain of Catholicism must in every case lead to an increase in the power of Spain. It was for this purpose that he identified his government with Spain, which had still fresh in its memory the crusades against the Moors, and where Protestant opinions were regarded as a sure token of the taint of Jewish or Moorish blood.

Thus, under Philip, Spain became enthusiastically Catholic. The Castilians felt their pride gratified at seeing their country made the seat of Philip's power, and they were willing to be taxed for its maintenance. Their chivalrous spirit was enlisted on the side of their religion. Round Philip’s person, as being the champion of that religion, was thrown the glamour of a passionate loyalty, such as was far removed from the old Spanish spirit. Philip had been wise in identifying himself with Spain. He had obtained by that means, in spite of all his disadvantages, a power which his father had never been able to gain. It remained for Philip to establish the spirit of Spain in the other parts of his dominions, especially in the Netherlands.

 

CHAPTER II.

THE REVOLT OF THE NETHERLANDS.

 

The country, which at the present day forms the two kingdoms of Holland and Belgium, was called, from its geographical position, the Netherlands, or the Low Countries. It consists of a large plain, formed round the mouths of the three great rivers, the Rhine, the Meuse, and the Scheld. During the middle ages, this land had belonged to many different lords, but was at last slowly united in the hands of the Valesian Dukes of Burgundy, until by the marriage of Mary, daughter of Charles the Bold, to the Emperor Maximilian I, it had passed under the rule of the house of Austria. Charles V inherited it as Maximilian's grandson.

But still, under Charles V, the Netherlands did not form one state for administrative purposes. Each of the seventeen provinces of which it was composed had its own constitution, its own assembly of Estates, and some had their own stadtholder, or local governor. For common purposes general assemblies were held of the Estates of all the provinces; but, each province granted taxes separately, and presented to the prince its own statement of grievances. Each province had its own charter and its own privileges, to which it tenaciously clung. The principle of local government was strong in the Netherlands, and it would obviously be no easy task for Philip to reduce them to the position of a province of the Spanish monarchy. The towns were rich, and the burghers had a strong spirit of independence. The nobles were numerous and warlike, men accustomed to high positions of confidence, many of them impoverished, and almost all ambitious. The question was, whether Philip would manage to mould them to his will.

In the early part of the sixteenth century, the trade of the Netherlands had immensely increased. The Portuguese discoverers, by opening a direct communication by sea with India and Southern Africa, had deprived Venice of the monopoly of trade with the East. Italy generally had been turned into the battlefield of Europe, and its commerce began to decay. Trade took up its abode more decidedly than before in the north of Europe. Antwerp became the great commercial capital of the world, and the Venetian ambassador sighed to see Venice surpassed. Everywhere throughout the Netherlands trade flourished and wealth abounded. The people lived in opulence and comfort. They were laborious, diligent, and ingenious. They had no delight in war, save as a means of securing lasting peace. They took no pleasure in martial exercises; but on their holidays their 'guilds of rhetoric' delighted to represent some allegory, where they could set forth in visible form some moral truth or maxim of worldly wisdom, decked with all the glory of costume that art could devise and wealth supply.

1559. Opposition to Philip II

When Philip left the Netherlands in 1559, he appointed as regent his half-sister Margaret, Duchess of Parma. To help her in the government was a State Council, composed mostly of native nobles; but this was checked by a privy council, consisting of those whom Philip could trust; and even they soon found that the regent had received orders to do nothing which was disapproved of by Antony Perrenot, generally known as Cardinal Granvella. Granvella was the son of the chief minister of Charles V, and had himself served the Emperor; he was now bishop of Arras and was supposed to be deep in Philip's confidence, and entirely devoted to Philip's interest. He was an ecclesiastic, and as such was likely to use all his influence to suppress the growing movement towards the reformed doctrines which Charles V had in vain tried to keep down.

The nobles soon found themselves neglected. William of Nassau, whose father had been one of Charles V's most faithful generals, and who had himself been a great favorite of the Emperor, found that he was subordinate to Granvella. William is generally known by the title of Prince of Orange. He inherited this small principality from a cousin who married the heiress of Orange-Chalons, and died without children. Count Egmont, who had won for Philip the battle of St. Quentin, and Count Horn, one of the chief commanders of the day, both found that Philip employed only Spaniards, and passed them by. The burghers felt that they were in danger of falling under a foreign yoke. They refused, according to their old liberties, to admit any foreigner to hold any office in the provinces. Their jealousy was awakened by the presence of Spanish troops which had been levied for war against France. Before Philip left, the Estates demanded their withdrawal, as it was against their liberties to have foreign troops quartered within their borders. He promised angrily to withdraw them, but did his best to find excuses for keeping them there. The Zealanders threatened, that if their lands were longer polluted by foreign troops, they would open their dykes and let in the ocean, rather than endure their hated presence. The regent was obliged to write and urge their withdrawal, which was reluctantly acceded to by Philip at the end of 1560.

When once popular suspicion was roused, everything tended to excite it more; and the ecclesiastical measures of the king soon created a ferment. The Netherlands had only three bishoprics, and Philip had applied to the Pope to increase the number. A papal bull was accordingly issued, making three archbishops and fifteen bishops. These were to be endowed out of monastic property; and in this way the wealth of the younger members of the noble families would be diminished, while the king, who was to appoint to the bishoprics, would greatly strengthen his political power, and also would have the means of putting down heresy more effectually. The nobles saw in this a means of increasing the power of the detested Granvella; if religious persecutions were admitted, he might attack them under pretext of heresy. The Inquisition, an institution with regular officials and courts for enquiring into cases of heresy, had been established in the Netherlands by Charles V in 1522, and had soon committed great devastations. The persecution carried on by the inquisitors, already sufficiently hateful to the people, had been increased in rigor by an edict of Charles V in 1550, and another of Philip in 1555.

Granvella accordingly was unpopular amongst all classes. The nobles addressed remonstrances to the king, asking for his removal, but with no effect. At last several of the chief of them entered into a league of defence against him. He was attacked in caricatures and lampoons by the people. The nobles, to ridicule his pomp and display, adopted a livery of the plainest serge, embroidered only at the sleeve with a fool's cap, which might be taken also for a monk's cowl. This rude Flemish wit told among the people. Even the regent began to tire of her subordination to Granvella. Orange, Egmont, and Horn all withdrew from the State Council, saying that they were mere shadows there, and Granvella was the sole reality.

At last the king was obliged to give way. He wrote to Granvella (February, 1564) saying that it would be well for him to leave the country for a few days to visit his mother; and Granvella never returned. The nobles were triumphant. Orange, Egmont, and Horn resumed their seats at the Council, resolved to carry out their own plans, and secure a national government for the Netherlands.

Meanwhile, however, the new bishops had been appointed, and new ecclesiastical arrangements were being carried out. Religious persecutions were more rigorously conducted, and popular discontent had increased. The Spanish troops and the Spanish minister had been got rid of; but it seemed that the Spanish influence would return through the Church, and that the authority of Philip would be established under cover of the maintenance of religion. Nobles and people alike bent their endeavours to procure a modification of the religious edicts; if they could be suspended, the new bishops would be politically harmless, Count Egmont was sent to Philip to represent the state of affairs. But Philip would not yield on this point; he received Egmont kindly, and dismissed him with fair speeches; but he sent to the regent, ordering the publication of the canons which had just been passed by the Council of Trent, and bidding the magistrates everywhere to help the inquisitors to put down heresy.

The nobles were alarmed at this, the people were in a fury. It was suspected that an alliance had been made between France and Spain to crush the Protestants, and establish the royal power more firmly in the dominions of both. A deep determination to resist the Inquisition spread among all classes in society, amongst patriotic Catholics as much as amongst the threatened Protestants. This feeling, early in 1566, found its expression in what is known as the ‘Compromise’, which was a bond declaring the Inquisition to be ‘iniquitous, contrary to all laws, human and divine’. The signers bound themselves to ‘extirpate and eradicate the thing in any form, as the mother of all iniquity and disorder.’

The Compromise was largely signed by the lesser nobles and the richer merchants. The merchants especially felt the pressure of the disturbed effects on state of things. It is reckoned that 30,000 Flemish weavers had fled to England before the persecution. There they were readily welcomed by Elizabeth. She gave them settlements in Sandwich and Norwich, and every Fleming so settled was obliged by law to employ at least one English apprentice. The English learned better the arts of cloth-making, silk-making, and dyeing, and no longer exported their wool for manufacture to Flanders. Instead of Antwerp sending its wares to England, Norwich sent out vessels laden with English fabrics for sale in the marts of Flanders. The Netherlands began to feel acutely the result of Philip's policy of intolerance.

1566. Iconoclasm at Antwerp. 

The signers of the Compromise next drew up a petition to the regent, setting forth that the Inquisition was likely to lead to rebellion, and begging her to suspend it until the king's pleasure could be more fully known. It was presented with great ceremony, by a body of some two hundred nobles, on April 5, 1566. The duchess dismissed them without an answer; she was much agitated, and one of her counselors, Berlaymont, exclaimed, to cheer her—“ What, madam, is it possible your highness can fear these beggars?”. The saying spread, and the confederates in bravado adopted the badge of a beggar's wallet, and called themselves 'the beggars'. The excitement spread amongst the common people, who flocked in crowds to hear the Protestant preachers. In the Netherlands, as elsewhere, Protestantism had assumed a strong political significance; but in the Netherlands it did so almost at once, for it was associated most directly with opposition to the foreign oppressor.

This popular excitement could not last long without finding some very definite expression. On August 18 was the ceremony of the 'Ommegang', or procession of a miraculous image of the Virgin at Antwerp. As the priests swept through the streets, they were greeted by the jeers of the crowd— “Mayken! Mayken!” (little Mary), they exclaimed, “your hour is come”. For the next two days there were riots in the cathedral; at last the crowd was roused to fury; the image was torn in pieces, and all the images and statues that adorned the building were pulled down. The example was followed in other churches, and soon spread to other towns. A wave of iconoclasm passed over the land, and the noble ecclesiastical buildings of many cities in the Netherlands were robbed of their richest ornaments.

The duchess was alarmed and was on the point of flight. She was stayed, however, by her council, and on August 25 published an ‘Accord’ which abolished the Inquisition, and allowed liberty of preaching the new doctrines in places where it had already been practised.

Philip, however, was not likely to be content with this. He waited first for the natural reaction to follow on the iconoclastic riots. All moderate men had been shocked by them; all fervent Catholics dad been dismayed by this turn of affairs. The leading nobles had been willing enough to use Protestant religious feeling as a political weapon against Philip; but they were not prepared to establish Protestantism. They were willing enough to bring pressure to bear upon the king; but they felt they could not be concerned in riots, and they were not prepared for violent measures against Philip. Egmont withdrew from his former opposition and resolved henceforward to serve Philip. Horn retired to his own house, determined to interfere no more in political matters. The confederate nobles, now somewhat weary of noisy demonstration, professed themselves satisfied with the Accord, and dissolved their bond.

The result of this naturally was that the hands of the government were strengthened, and the party of opposition was hopelessly divided. It was not long before the regent took advantage of this state of feeling. The disturbances were everywhere checked. The city of Valenciennes, which had refused to admit a garrison, was besieged and at last taken by Egmont, who punished the citizens with ruthless severity. He was determined to prove his loyalty to Philip, and show him that he had no sympathy with rebellion. The fate of Valenciennes was decisive for the time; the Protestants either hastened to make their submission, or left the country. A new and most stringent oath of allegiance, requiring a promise of unqualified obedience to the government, was imposed on all who held office under the Crown. It was taken by all the nobles, except only the Prince of Orange, who refused to admit this innovation upon the old constitution. He resigned all his offices, and withdrew from the Netherlands into Germany, to see what course events were likely to take.

There were in Philip II’s privy council two men whose opinion most weighed with him: the Duke of Alva and Don Ruy Gomez de Silva, Prince of Eboli. They were two widely different men. Ruy Gomez had gained the royal favor by his suppleness and address; he thoroughly knew his master's character and fell in unobtrusively with his master's ways; Philip was helped in the process of thinking, which he found a slow one, by the forethought and considerateness of his careful minister, who seemed to anticipate his thoughts, yet with due deference. Alva, on the other hand, was a noble of the old Spanish type, haughty, proud, self-asserting, who felt that his position was only the due reward of his merits; he was devoted to the king, for only in the king's service could he honorably obtain glory. Between these two ministers a bitter opposition raged. Philip encouraged each of them in turn, and listened to the complaints of the one against the other, for he thought that in this way he would get to their true opinions, and so would gain the greatest amount of good out of both.

About the policy to be pursued towards the Netherlands these two ministers, as usual, differed. Ruy Gomez, as being no soldier, was in favor of pacific measures; Alva, as one of the chief captains of the age, advocated severe repression. He undertook, if he were only supplied with Spanish troops, to reduce the Netherlands to subjection one for all, and secure that the Netherland taxes should flow regularly into Philip's coffers. The wealth of the heretics was to pay for the war and enrich the king as well. Philip's finances could ill endure the losses that came from the disturbed state of the Netherlands. He agreed with Alva's policy and sent him with an army of 10,000 veterans, the picked troops of Italy and Spain, to reduce the provinces to submission.

Alva set out in May, 1567, resolved to do his work thoroughly. His own political credit was at stake. Alva sent Here was a splendid opportunity of doing the greatest possible service to the king, of vindicating his own foresight, and of returning triumphant over his rival. He went to the Netherlands with full powers, and the Duchess of Parma, finding herself superseded, resigned her office and retired. Alva occupied the towns with his troops. Determined to strike terror at once, he arrested Counts Egmont and Horn, and committed them to prison. He next established a council for the trial of offences committed during the recent disturbances. From its severity this council has won for itself the title of the 'Blood Council', and the number of its victims spread terror throughout the land. Counts Egmont and Horn were indicted on the charge of having stirred up a plot against the king; they were found guilty and condemned to death. Neither their high position, their noble birth, nor their former services could save them from Philip’s wrath. They were beheaded on June 5, 1568, in the great square at Brussels.

Alva had cowed the Netherlands into submission; but there was still one man who talked of resistance, one whom Alva's power could not reach. The Prince of Orange, condemned by the Blood Council with Egmont and Horn, published, from his retirement in Germany, a 'Justification', which was an indignant attack upon Philip's tyranny. A change had come over the character of Orange. Up to this time he had been an adherent of the old Church; but his opinions slowly changed in exile. He became a determined Protestant of the school of Calvin, yet with views of wider toleration than were common in his day. He now, in Philip's name, enlisted soldiers against Alva, and granted a commission to his brother, Count Louis of Nassau, setting forth that to show his love to the king and to the provinces, and to maintain the privileges sworn to by the king, he empowered his brother to enroll troops. At first Count Louis obtained some advantage in Friesland, and hoped for assistance from the Huguenots in France. But Alva took the field against him and at Jemmingen the raw recruits of Count Louis fled at once before the veterans of Spain (July 22, 1568). For two days the fugitives were slaughtered. Count Louis succeeded in making his escape, but few of his soldiers were so fortunate; seven Spaniards only were killed, and seven thousand rebels. It seemed too clear that it was hopeless for the unhappy Netherlanders to think of resistance. But Orange was not daunted; in September he entered Brabant and challenged Alva, who refused a battle, but inflicted severe damage on the army of Orange, who, after a month's campaign, was obliged to retire without having effected anything.

Again Alva was triumphant. The Netherlands lay at his feet. His severities were redoubled, and in the citadel of Antwerp he erected a colossal statue to himself, for having “extinguished sedition, chastised rebellion, restored religion, secured justice, and established peace”.

 

CHAPTER III.

RESULTS OF ALVA'S MEASURES ON FRANCE, ENGLAND, AND SCOTLAND.

 

Alva’s measures in the Netherlands were felt as a menace to Protestantism throughout Europe generally. If Philip succeeded, he would first help to put down the Huguenots in France, and then would turn his attention to England.

In France the Huguenots were at once stirred to alarm by their danger. They saw that the queen-mother leant towards the Catholic party, and that the Cardinal of Lorraine again took his place at the Council. Troops were being raised by the government, ostensibly to protect the frontier, but the Huguenots suspected that they might be used against themselves. Determined to forestall the danger, they swiftly and secretly armed, and made an attempt to surprise the court at Monceaux, near Meaux, their plan being to compel the removal of the cardinal and the dismissal of the Swiss troops. The surprise failed, and the court escaped to Paris. The old Constable Montmorency led the royal army against the rebels, and after a fierce battle, in which he was killed, defeated them at St. Denis, November 10, 1567. A German army came to their aid, and the king was compelled to make peace, and re-issue the edict of toleration in its full extent. (March, 1568.)

But this pacification was not to last long. Alva urged upon the young king of France that to make concessions in matters concerning religion was beyond the royal power; he was granting what belonged to God, not to himself. Alva's example encouraged other Catholic powers. Moreover, he offered the French king aid against the rebels. The late rising of the Huguenots had filled the common people with terror of their power, and there was a strong feeling against them. The edict of pacification was revoked, on the demand of the Pope, only six months after it had been granted. Both parties armed, and the struggle which in 1568 had been carried on in the Netherlands was in 1569 to be carried on in France.

The Prince of Orange and Count Louis of Nassau made common cause with the Huguenots; the German Protestants sent them succors, and Elizabeth sent them money. But they were not fortunate in battle; in May they were defeated at Jarnac, and their leader, Condé, was slain. When in October they again ventured to meet the royal forces under the Duke of Anjou, the king's brother, they were disastrously defeated at Moncontour. Still Coligny did not despair. He retreated in good order towards Rochelle, the district round which had become exclusively Protestant. It was vain to attempt to subdue this country. It had refused to recognize the legality of the act which withdrew the edict of tolerance, and now declared itself to be under the government of the young Prince of Navarre. The little town of St. Jean d'Angely offered a stubborn resistance to the royal troops, though the king himself was in the camp. The men of Rochelle even fitted out a small fleet, with which they made raids on the neighbouring coast, seized booty, and sold it for the benefit of the prince whom they had adopted. Coligny again raised an army, and threatened to march against Paris.

The Huguenots were too strong to be put down at once by force, and had been well aided by England and the Netherlands. If the war were to last, it could only be by a close alliance of the Catholic party with Spain. But here the old national jealousy stood in the way. Alva had not given such cordial help as was expected; his success in the Netherlands was threatening to France; to subdue the Huguenots by Philip's assistance would be to sacrifice the national independence and lay open a new field to the boundless ambition of Spain. The court resolved on peace, and offered again to renew the edict of pacification. But as the Huguenots demanded some guarantee for their security, four towns were put into their hands for two years, amongst them Rochelle. The peace of St. Germain (August 1570) again restored quiet in France; but it showed that, if need were, the Huguenots were determined to maintain their own safety by arms.

But the presence of Alva in the Netherlands affected England almost as closely as it did France. It was just at the time of Alva's expedition that Mary of Scotland had exhausted the patience of her subjects. The deposition and captivity of Mary deprived the Catholic party in England of its head. Mary at that time had so entirely disgraced herself in the eyes of Europe, that a rising in her name was not to be thought of. Still Elizabeth was afraid of Alva, and was unwilling to seem to be in league with the Scottish nobles, who had deposed their sovereign. She felt the danger of admitting their right to do so. Though keenly alive to the advantages she had gained from recent events in Scotland, she could not bring herself to sanction them. Perhaps she thought that Mary had so far discredited herself as to be henceforth harmless; perhaps she thought that her restoration through English influence would silence her. At all events she urged her release upon the Scottish lords, till she was met by the threat that her further importunity might cost Mary her life.

The nobles were resolved that Mary should not return to power. But her party gathered strength from Alva's successes. Before she had been in prison a year she managed to escape to Hamilton, and soon found herself at the head of an army of her adherents. Murray, though taken by surprise, armed also, and cut off Mary's advance to the strong castle of Dumbarton Rock, where she felt she would be secure. The two armies met at Langside near Glasgow (May 13, 1568). The battle is interesting, as showing the strange results produced by the old method of warfare. In front of both armies were stationed the heavy armed men. When they charged, the spears of both opposing lines stuck in the joints of each other's armour. The front lines were consequently fastened together, and the battle became a mere tussle, in which the hinder ranks could take no part, except by throwing stones and sticks over the impeding mass of mail. At last the battle was decided by a charge of Murray's cavalry. Mary's troops fled, and she herself galloped from the field and hurried across the Solway Frith to Workington. Thence she went to Carlisle, and begged for Elizabeth's protection.

This was a step extremely perplexing to Elizabeth and her advisers. What was to be done? To restore Mary by force would be to alienate the Scots, and to establish in Scotland a hostile in place of a friendly government. To allow Mary to go to France would be to put a most dangerous instrument in the hands of the Catholic party on the Continent. To keep her in England was equally difficult, for Elizabeth had no grounds for treating her as a prisoner, and if she were at large she would be a centre for Catholic plots. Her presence in the northern counties was dangerous, for there the Catholics were strongest. Before Mary's presence and the story of her misfortunes, the remembrance of her crimes began to fade away, and the old chivalrous spirit revived. It was thought wise to remove her from Carlisle to Bolton Castle in Yorkshire.

At first Elizabeth tried to arrange a compromise between Mary and the Regent Murray; but this was impossible. Mary demanded that Elizabeth should either restore her, or give her free passage to France. She asked for an interview. Elizabeth refused the interview till Mary had cleared herself of the charges brought against her, urging that she could not proceed to restore her, and so punish the rebellious lords, till she knew the extent of their guilt. Mary accordingly agreed to a conference, which was held at York towards the end of the year. The Duke of Norfolk, the chief Catholic peer, was the principal commissioner appointed by Elizabeth. Murray and Mary both sent their representatives; but the conference led to no decided result, except that the evidence against Mary for the murder of Darnley, including the ‘casket letters’ was laid before the chief English peers. They reported to the queen that they had seen 'such foul matters' as to justify her in refusing to give Mary an interview. On the main question nothing was done. Mary still remained at Bolton, and Murray returned to Scotland with a loan of 5,000£. from Elizabeth, “for the maintenance of peace between England and Scotland”.

Elizabeth was still doubtful what course to pursue. The suppression of the Huguenots in France, and the entire subjugation of the Netherlands might arm all Europe against her. In the face of this danger Cecil and the Protestants urged the queen to put herself at the head of Protestantism in Europe, to make war openly against Alva, and send back Mary to Scotland. The Catholic and moderate party wished for peace with Spain, and the recognition of Mary's claim to the succession in England. Elizabeth adopted a middle course. She sent money to the Huguenots in France, and seriously crippled Alva by seizing some ships laden with money for the pay of his soldiers, which had been driven by bad weather into Southampton and Plymouth (December 1568). Alva was furious, and seized all English ships and property in the Netherlands. Elizabeth retaliated on the Spaniards in England. She pleaded that the money belonged to Genoese bankers, not to Alva; it had come into her hands, and she had borrowed it instead of him. Philip, desirous of settling matters in the Netherlands before engaging with England, allowed the affront to pass by.

Similarly, Elizabeth hoped that the documents laid before her commissioners would destroy in their minds any doubts they might feel about Mary's detention. But in this she was mistaken. The Duke of Norfolk had formed the scheme of marrying Mary; and many who, from political reasons, were opposed to Cecil, and were in favor of a conciliatory policy towards Mary and Spain, promised him their assistance. Elizabeth, however, discovered the plan too soon. Norfolk was committed for a short time to the Tower, and his confederates, amongst whom was Leicester, were for a while disgraced.

Mary was indeed a dangerous captive. Her partisans had waited to see if this powerful political coalition would succeed; but when they saw that it had failed, and that Cecil's watchfulness was not to be eluded, they had recourse to arms. The Earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland headed a premature rising in the north. They demanded the restoration of the old religion and the dismissal of the queen's upstart advisers. They advanced to Durham, celebrated the mass once more in the cathedral, and tore the English Bible in pieces before the people. But their triumph was brief. The Catholic gentry were not yet prepared to turn rebels, and the aid expected from the Duke of Alva never came. The Earl of Sussex kept them occupied in the north till he was joined by reinforcements from the southern counties. When at length he was strong enough to proceed against them, the rebel army dispersed. Westmoreland fled to the Netherlands, where he ended his days miserably in the receipt of a small pension from Philip. Northumberland took refuge in Scotland, where he was taken prisoner by Murray, and at last given up to the English government and executed at York.

The rebellion was easily put down, and severely punished. The queen had been thoroughly frightened, and her terror showed itself in revenge. Sussex complained that he was left in the north 'but to direct hanging matters'. In every little village the insurgents were sought out and executed. As yet Elizabeth had been merciful; but as the great conflict of her reign deepened around her, mercy gave way before desperate endeavours.

Still, the end of the year 1569 showed Elizabeth to be strong in her hold upon her people. The long-threatened Catholic rebellion had failed to shake her position. Alva had not yet felt himself strong enough to help her rebels. Philip, in spite of an outrageous affront, was not prepared for war. There was nothing to fear from France; for the French dread of Spain was tending to bring England and France nearer together, and a French marriage was even proposed to Elizabeth.

 

CHAPTER IV.

STRUGCLE OF CATHOLICISM AND PROTESTANTISM,

1570-1572.

 

One great reason of the failure of the rising in England had been that the Catholics, as a body, did not join it. Their allegiance was as yet due to their queen, and they did not feel that their religion called upon them to take part in a rebellion. This feeling, however, was soon to be disturbed. Open and avowed hostility between Catholicism and Protestantism was to be introduced into England also.

Pope Pius V, Michele Ghislieri, had been a Dominican inquisitor before his elevation to the papacy. Austere, zealous and determined, he devoted all his energies to the suppression of heresy. Under his rule the Inquisition crushed out Protestantism in Italy. Though a man of fervent piety and blameless life, he shrunk from no measures which were likely to put down the schism. He rejoiced over Alva's cruelties in the Netherlands, and sent him a sword and cap which he had blessed, as a token of his favor. A man of this kind was not likely to leave the English Catholics doubtful of their duties. He proceeded to the excommunication of Elizabeth; but he did it secretly that he might not be prevented by the remonstrances of France and Spain. In May 1570 the bull of excommunication was found fixed on the door of the Bishop of London's house, and a student of Lincoln's Inn, by name Felton, paid with his life for his rash act.

This excommunication was felt by Elizabeth and her ministers to be a declaration of war; it was resented by the mass of the English people as an act of aggression.

Moreover, fears for the queen’s life had been awakened by recent events in Scotland. The Catholic party had there roused itself for a desperate effort, and had hoped, if the Regent Murray were removed, to succeed once more in gaining power. James Hamilton of Bothwellhaugh undertook Murray's assassination, and shot him from the balcony of a house in Linlithgow, as he was riding out of the town, January 23, 1570. The result was anarchy in Scotland, where for the next few years a civil war raged between the queen's party and the adherents of the king.

In England the Parliament which met in 1571 proceeded to pass bills declaring it high treason to call the queen a heretic, or to affirm that anyone particular person was her successor, or to publish any bull from the Pope. A bill was even introduced to compel all above a certain age to receive the Communion according to the established service; but this was withdrawn after a discussion. The Catholic attack upon England had called forth severe reprisals. England entered upon a course of persecution, not, however, of religious opinions as such, but because of their political consequences. Conformity to the Established Church was rigidly required from all; and while Parliament passed laws against the Catholics, the High Commission Court, under the presidency of Archbishop Parker, demanded from the Puritans obedience to the established ceremonies.

1572. Ridolfi's plot. 

The religious struggle was not long in breaking out again. The old plan of the liberation of Mary, her marriage with the Duke of Norfolk, and of the restoration of Catholicism was again revived. But this time it was seen that the aid of foreign powers was necessary for its success. Ridolfi, a Florentine, who had long resided in England, was sent to confer with the Duke of Alva, Philip II, and the Pope. Philip II warmly entered into the scheme. The Pope declared himself ready to sell even the chalices from his churches for such a worthy object. It was agreed that Alva was to send 10,000 men to help the conspirators. But Ridolfi was too dull a plotter to escape the vigilance of Lord Burleigh, by which title Sir William Cecil was now known. A suspicious packet of papers was seized. Norfolk's secretary was imprisoned and confessed, and the whole plot was discovered. Mary's ambassador in England, the Bishop of Ross, was thrown into the Tower, and the Spanish ambassador was dismissed from England. Norfolk was brought to trial before his brother peers, was found guilty of treason and condemned to death. It was some time before Elizabeth could be brought to consent to the execution of the chief nobleman in the kingdom; but at last she gave way, and Norfolk was beheaded, June 2, 1572.

The rising of 1569 had failed, because it was confined within too narrow limits and had nor appealed to the Catholic world. Now a great plot in which all the chief Catholic powers were to have taken part was stopped before it could come to a head, Philip II did not venture to resent his ambassador's dismissal. The queen only became dearer to her people as they saw the efforts directed against her.

Meanwhile in France the dread of the encroachments of Spain had been increased. The combined fleets of Venice, the Pope, and Philip II had won a brilliant victory at Lepanto over the Turks, and a new course of aggrandizement seemed open to Philip. France drew nearer to England, and proposals were made for a marriage between Elizabeth and the Duke of Anjou, the younger brother of Charles IX. The negotiations gave Elizabeth an opportunity for the display of her vacillation and her delight in mystifying those around her. The marriage was not popular in England, and all talk of it was laid aside for a while in consequence of the events of 1572 in France.

In that country peace with the Huguenots and jealousy of Spain had become, both of them, parts of the royal policy. The young king, Charles IX, was of weak intelligence, yet of a wild and passionate nature. His education had been neglected owing to his feeble health, and he was unable to give serious attention to the affairs of state. He was entirely under the influence of his mother, Catharine de' Medici, who ruled in his name. Catharine was the daughter of the man t0 whom Machiavelli had dedicated the 'Prince', and she was well skilled in all the arts of dissimulation. After living powerless at court during her husband's lifetime, she was determined to satisfy her desire for power when her time came. Yet her title to power was very precarious. She was a stranger by birth; she represented no great national interest, no political party; she was supported by no great family, and awoke no enthusiasm amongst the common people. Yet when she once had power in her hands she devoted all her energies to keep it. About the great questions which at that time agitated France, she was entirely indifferent; but she was willing to play off one party against the other so as to maintain herself in power. Tall, and of strong, commanding appearance, she exercised great influence over those who were around her. She had a powerful nature, which could adapt itself to any circumstances. She had great quickness of mind and penetration. She knew well how to conciliate opponents, and how to satisfy them without committing herself to definite promises. She trusted no one, and no one trusted her. She preferred to be regarded as a peacemaker and mediator between the contending parties in France; but would hesitate at nothing to rid herself of one who was likely to disturb her position.

Gaspard de Coligny. 

Hence she had opposed the Guises, and had been a foe to Mary of Scotland. Over Charles IX her rule seemed absolute, and she was determined to maintain it at any cost. But she saw this rule over her son's mind suddenly threatened. Charles IX became jealous of the fame gained by his younger brother, the Duke of Anjou, who had been the leader of the victorious Catholics at the battle of Moncontour. The populace of Paris was distinguished by its bitter hatred of the Huguenots, whose chief opponent was always the popular hero of the capital. Charles IX was alarmed at his brother's superior position; he was afraid of some plot against himself. Stung to a sudden energy, he determined to gain glory himself also. For this end he would make common cause with the Huguenots, and wage war against Spain.

The head of the Huguenot party was also the most famous general in France, and was in French history at this age the one prominent man who rose above the level of intrigue, fanaticism, and self-seeking into a higher region of lofty self-devotion. Gaspard de Coligny was sprung from an old Burgundian family, and was in early life distinguished as a soldier. He knew every branch of the soldier's trade, and to courage and coolness united a capacity for discipline and military organization. He had undertaken the hopeless task of defending St. Quentin against Philip's army; he had undertaken it though he knew it to be hopeless, and knew that his reputation would suffer through the failure. He was taken prisoner in the battle, and during his imprisonment a change came over his religious opinions and he adopted the faith of Calvin. When the religious wars began in France, Coligny fully appreciated the momentous importance of the issue involved. He counted the cost, and gave himself unreservedly to the conflict. He asked his wife if she had the courage to face dangers, misfortunes, exile, and, if need were, death,—if she were prepared to ruin the future of her children for the sake of her religious convictions. His wife, as heroic as her husband, bade him go forth upon the path of duty without fear for her. In this spirit Coligny entered upon the strife. His mind was not under the sway of fierce passion, or desire for power, or thirst for fame. Sternly and sadly he undertook a sacred duty, which he carried out without being elevated by success or cast down by failure. Through evil report and good report he went upon his solitary way. His calm prudence and commanding temper enforced obedience upon his party, which respected and obeyed rather than loved him. High above the fierce passions, the mean intrigues, the unscrupulous self-seeking, which distinguished France in his age, his figure rises as the one man endowed with a noble purpose, who felt laid upon him a mighty weight of duty, which he must carry unflinchingly to the end.

Such was the man with whom Charles IX now found himself brought into connection. Coligny had so strong a belief in the possibility of a reconciliation between the two contending parties, that he went himself to the court to urge his views more decidedly. He endeavoured to fan the king's dread of Philip II, and prevail on him to declare war against Spain,—a step which must aid greatly the struggling cause of Protestantism in the Netherlands.

In that country Alva's savage measures had failed of complete success. He flattered himself at the end of 1569 that he had put down heresy and had reduced the provinces to obedience. It only remained for him , to carry out the rest of his promise, to make the provinces pay for the trouble they had given, and make them contribute largely to the royal resources for the future. For this purpose he devised a new scheme of taxation. Instead of grants of money being made by the states to their prince according to their sympathy with the purposes for which he proposed to use it, they were henceforth to pay according to a regular system. A tax of the twentieth penny (five per cent.) was to be paid every time real property changed hands; and a tax of the tenth penny (ten per cent.) was to be paid on all personal property or merchandise every time it was sold.

Alva was a soldier and not a financier, or he would have known that these measures would involve the entire ruin of the commerce of the Netherlands. An active trading people, made liable to this tax of ten per cent. on every sale, would necessarily be unable to manufacture and sell any article at the same price as formerly. Instead of being the great merchants of Europe, they would be unable to compete with other countries whose productions were not subject to this heavy tax. Alva's endeavour to increase the royal income by extorting money from the Netherlands would really result in a diminution of the capital sum on which the taxes must be levied, and would ruin the people without enriching the king.

Men who had stood by Alva and applauded him in his severe measures against heresy now rose in opposition against him. Loud outcries were raised in Madrid. In the Netherlands trade was at a standstill, and men shut their shops rather than submit to the tax. Universal discontent and deep hatred towards Alva prevailed amongst the whole mass of the people.

In this state of feeling it required very little to rouse the People t0 resistance. A sudden raid of a band of Netherlandish outlaws laid the foundation of the memorable revolt of the Netherlands.

Among those who had left the Netherlands rather than submit to Alva, many were accustomed to the sea. These now, seizing upon vessels, cruised as pirates in the Channel, professing to make war on Alva on the name of Orange. Hardy, brave, and cruel adventurers, they inflicted much damage on the Spanish ships, and found in England a ready market for their booty. Alva, in the beginning of 1572, remonstrated with Elizabeth on the shelter which she gave to these freebooters, who were at that time lying in some of the southern ports of England. Elizabeth, wishing to be conciliatory in a little matter, sent orders that the Netherland pirates were no longer to be supplied with provisions. Forced by hunger, the little fleet of twenty-four ships, under the command of a rude Flemish noble, William de la March, set sail from England for a foray. They were driven by stress of weather to enter the mouth of the Meuse, and came opposite the city of Brill. More in bravado than with any serious expectation of success, this handful of men, not more than 250, sent a message demanding the surrender of Brill. A panic seized the magistrates and citizens; they fled and left their fortified city to the 'water beggars', who took possession of the city in the name of the Prince of Orange, stadtholder of the king.

The failure of an attempt to regain Brill for the Spaniards gave additional courage to the Netherlanders. Flushing was the first to expel its Spanish government. The example was followed by all the chief cities of Holland and Zeeland, and many of the cities of Gelderland, Oberyssel, and Friesland. By the middle of 1572 a large portion of the Netherlands was in open revolt against Alva. Meanwhile Count Louis of Nassau had been busy in France, where he enlisted the sympathies of the Huguenots, who sent out forces under Genlis to aid him in a bold scheme which he had formed, of surprising Mons, the chief city of Hainault. His surprise was successful, and Alva saw himself assailed on two sides. In the north the land was in rebellion; in the south a rising was being promoted by French help. When it was too late he abolished his tax of the tenth penny. The revolt had now taken shape. Representatives of the Estates of Holland met at Dort in July, and recognized the Prince of Orange as the king's lawful stadtholder in Holland, Zeeland, Friesland, and Utrecht. There was no talk of throwing off their allegiance to Philip II; but against the despotic system of government introduced by Alva they set up their old constitution. The Prince of Orange had been appointed by Philip stadtholder of Holland in 1569; him they would follow in maintaining their lawful privileges against tyrannical governors. The revolt of the Netherlands was not directed against Philip's legitimate authority, but against the arbitrary use of his authority to introduce constitutional changes to which the Estates had never agreed. Alva's first step was to send his son, Don Frederic de Toledo, to besiege Mons, which could not be defended unless speedy reinforcements arrived. Genlis had hurried to France to raise fresh troops, but was defeated by Don Frederic outside Mons, and few of his reinforcements reached the city. Still Count Louis hoped for greater succors, and the fate of Mons depended on Coligny’s influence over the French king.

 

 

CHAPTER V.

ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S DAY.

 

Coligny had cast over Charles IX the spell of his powerful mind, and the king inclined more and more to his view of war with Spain in the Netherlands. But the queen-mother was alarmed at Coligny's power; if he were to succeed, her influence over the king would be gone for ever. She made common cause with the Catholic party, resolved that at any cost Coligny's plans should fail. She joined with the widow of the murdered Francis, Duke of Guise, and the two women plotted Coligny's assassination. A gentleman attached to the house of Guise, Maurevert, shot at Coligny (August 22) as he was slowly entering his house engaged in reading a letter. The shot was fired from the window of a house opposite; it wounded Coligny in the arm, but the wounds were not dangerous. It was clear that an enquiry would be made into the attempted assassination.

Catharine was not a woman to shrink from carrying out a scheme she had undertaken. Coligny must be got rid of, and the king must be rescued once for all from his influence. His wounds gave him greater hold upon the king's sympathies. The Huguenots gathered round him demanding vengeance. They were prepared to go in a body to the king, and denounce the Duke of Guise as the assassin; they muttered threats of what they would do if they failed to obtain redress. Men's passions had grown fiercer. The populace of Paris prepared themselves to defend the Guises against an attack of the Huguenots. The Huguenots stood sullenly opposed to the excited populace amongst whom they lived.

Coligny had striven for the reconciliation of the two parties; of this the marriage of Henry the young King of Navarre, with Margaret of Valois, the French king's sister (August 18) had been regarded as the pledge. The Prince of Navarre, after his father's death, had become the titular head of the Huguenot party. His marriage with Margaret was to bring the two parties together, and the Huguenots had streamed into Paris to be present at the festival, and make a demonstration of their power. The people of Paris had received them with silent threats. They themselves were fanatically Catholic, and saw with hatred Coligny enter the city and take his place at the royal council by the side of Henry of Anjou and Henry of Guise. The attempted assassination of Coligny awoke all the deepest passions of both parties. Catholics and Protestants alike began to gather apprehensively round their chiefs.

In this excited state of popular feeling Catharine and the Guises saw their safety. The king was perplexed at finding that his mother was privy to the attempt on Coligny's life. She repeated to him exaggerations of the wild words and threats uttered by the Huguenots. She showed him their armed bands in the streets, and asked if a royal army could be raised to meet them. She warned him that soon the royal power would pass entirely into the hands of Coligny. She stirred up the king's feeble mind to alarm, and then suggested to him the way out of the difficulty. All the chiefs of the Huguenots were in Paris, caught as in a net. It only needed a word from the king to arm the people of Paris against them, and rid himself of his enemies at one stroke.

The scheme was not premeditated, nor had the Huguenots been deliberately invited to the capital to be massacred. Perhaps old plans of a general massacre for the suppression of Protestantism, which had been suggested in former times by Philip II, recurred to Catharine's mind. But the plan in itself arose to her Italian brain as a possible means of extricating herself from her present difficulties. To rid himself of his enemies at one blow was a device sometimes adopted with success by an Italian tyrant in his small state. Catharine believed it possible in France. At first Charles IX shrunk with horror from the proposal. Catharine reasoned in its favor as an act of policy, appealed to Charles's affection by declaring that her life was no longer safe in Paris, and at last taunted the feeble youth with want of courage. Charles was stung by his mother's taunt. He gave his assent to the plan, and when once his assent had been given he hurried on with feverish excitement.

Early in the morning of St. Bartholomew's Day, Sunday, August 24, the massacre began; it was known in after days by the bitter name of the 'Paris Matins'. The Duke of Guise himself superintended the murder of Coligny; the corpse was thrown out of the window into the courtyard where Guise stood. All the Huguenot chiefs, except only the two princes, Navarre and Condé, were put to death. On every side the bells rang; and the populace in the king's name stormed and robbed the houses of the Huguenots and murdered their masters, who were entirely taken by surprise. It was a night of horror. Private revenge and personal hatred ran riot under the protection of the royal authority; religious fanaticism sheltered itself under the name of patriotism. A terrible fury had seized the people. For years they had been disturbed and disquieted by Huguenot rebellion; it needed but a few sharp hours of determined action, and these disturbers of their peace would be got rid of forever.

The fury spread quickly from town to town. The royal orders were everywhere acted upon, and for days the massacre went on. It is difficult to estimate the number of victims; the calculations vary between 25,000 and 100,000 in the whole of the kingdom. In the excitement of the act, its terrible significance was not regarded by those concerned. The king rejoiced that at last he had acted decidedly and had become a king indeed. Catharine thought that she had freed herself from her enemies and had wrought a good deed for her country at the same time. The Catholic powers exulted over this victory of Catholicism. Gregory XIII, who had but lately become Pope, ordered a 'Te Deum' to be sung in honor of the event, and went in solemn procession to be present at the thanksgiving. Philip forgot his usual severity of manner, and laughed for joy. No doubt the atrocity of the deed was not known at first. It was believed that a plot of the Huguenots had been discovered, that their designs had been anticipated, and that they had met with the punishment that was their due. In England only was the moral bearing of the massacre at once perceived; a shudder went through the land at the thought that a king should arm one part of his people against another. The French ambassador was long refused an audience of the queen; and when at last he was admitted, he was received in solemn silence by the queen and court, who were all dressed in mourning.

In the Netherlands the events which we have been relating produced the most disastrous results. The patriots saw themselves cut off from any hope of French help, Orange, who was advancing to the relief of Mons, was driven back into Holland, and Mons was compelled to surrender. The rebellion was crushed in the southern provinces; and the Spanish troops, by their atrocities, exacted a terrible revenge. Alva sent orders that every town which refused to admit a garrison should be besieged, and all its inhabitants be put to death. At Mechlin, Zutphen, and Naarden, these orders were almost literally carried out. Alva was consistent in his policy of crushing rebellion by the example of terrible severity.

But the men of Holland and Zeeland were not to be crushed without making an effort, and a struggle now began which has made the name of Holland memorable. It was a struggle conducted on both sides with desperate bravery and determined daring. Marvels of force and cruelty attract our attention as much as marvels of patriotism and self-devotion. The Spanish soldiers were unequalled in Europe; they were devoted to their leader and zealous for the Catholic cause; they fought with as much desperation and fury as did the burghers, whose only hope of life lay in their courage. The struggle which now began is marked by matchless deeds of valor on both sides.

An attempt on the part of the patriots to obtain possession of the town of Goes, in South Beveland, led to a wonderful exploit on the part of the Spaniards. South Beveland is an island lying off the mouth of the Scheld. It had once formed part of the mainland, but the sea in a heavy storm had dashed away the dykes, and now ran in a channel, ten miles broad at its narrowest part, between South Beveland and the shore of which it had once formed part. Goes was invested by the patriots, and the Spaniards were cut off by the fleet of the Zeelanders from sending reinforcements.

Determined not to lose the town, they formed the bold undertaking of wading along a narrow causeway on the ‘Drowned land’ as it was called. The water on this narrow causeway was four feet deep at low tide, and rose with the tide ten feet. It was a terrible hazard for the band of 3,000 men who undertook this journey of ten miles by night with the water reaching up to their shoulders. A few false steps and they would be lost; if they failed to accomplish their task in six hours, the rising tide would sweep them away. Yet such was the disciplined precision of the Spanish soldiers, that of the three thousand only nine were lost on the way. The rest reached Beveland in safety, and Goes was saved.

1573. Siege of Haarlem.

The siege of Haarlem is again famous for the desperate courage of the patriots. When summoned to admit a Spanish garrison, the men of Haarlem determined to resist. Their fortifications were weak; their garrison was only 4,000 men, while Don Frederic de Toledo led against them 30,000 veterans. Yet for seven months they kept the Spaniards at bay, and only yielded at last to famine. Three hundred women armed themselves and fought in a regular corps. Assaults upon the city were repelled by the determination of the citizens, who poured boiling oil and blazing pitch on their assailants. Women and children worked day and night to repair the breaches in the walls. When it was found hopeless to take the city by assault, the Spaniards tried to undermine the walls. The citizens made countermines, and sometimes the opposing parties would meet underground and engage in savage contest. But the valor of the men of Haarlem could not hold out against famine. On July 12, 1573, the city surrendered. Its garrison was butchered, and the city was left a heap of ruins. Alkmaar was next attacked; but the patriots resolved that the dykes should be broken down and the country round be swallowed up by the waters of the sea, rather than that Alkmaar should fall into the enemy's hands. The Spaniards, discovering this resolution, retired in dismay; they had come to fight against men, not against the ocean.

Thus, at the end of 1573, it was clear that Alva's severity, so far from having broken the spirit of the Netherlander, had only stirred them up to from the the most stubborn resistance. For seven years Alva had tried his utmost; he was weary of his task, and Philip was convinced of the failure of his measures. He was consequently allowed to return to Spain, where soon after, on a slight pretext, he and his son were imprisoned; nor was Alva restored to favor till his military talents were required for an expedition against Portugal.

In the Netherlands a more pacific policy was adopted by Alva's successor, Don Luis de Requesens, who was governor for the next three years, 1573-6.

In France the result of the massacre of St. Bartholomew's had not been quite so decisive as the fanatics who had engaged in it had hoped. The moral horror of the deed dawned upon the minds of its actors. Charles IX was haunted in his dreams by the terrible remembrance of that night; he sprung from his bed in terror; and to the excited minds of those around him the air seemed to be filled with groans and shrieks. Even in the camp, men thought they saw the dice thrown by Henry of Guise stain the table with a mark of blood.

Moreover, the general policy of France had been contradicted by this massacre, and when men's feelings settled down, it was seen to have been a mistake. Spain was the leader of the Catholic world; and France could not hope to dispute that leadership with Spain. By the massacre France had lost her moderating position between the two parties. All dealings with the Netherlanders were broken off. The negotiations for the marriage of Elizabeth with the Duke of Anjou were stopped. The Huguenots still held out against the royal troops in their cities of Rochelle, Nismes, and Sancerre. It was in vain that these cities were besieged; they defended themselves with desperate heroism. Though many of the Huguenots had been massacred, and many had changed their religion through terror, still there remained too many to be put down by force. Moreover the Poles were thinking of the election of the Duke of Anjou to their throne; but if Anjou were to become king of Poland, he must declare himself willing to mediate between the two religious parties, and to allow religious freedom. For all these reasons the old policy of pacification again won the upper hand in France. In July 1573 free exercise of religion was granted to the towns of Rochelle, Montauban, Nismes, and Sancerre.

The Huguenots obtained peace for a while; and the discords at court soon strengthened their hands. The youngest brother of the king, the Duke of Alencon, openly opposed his mother. In the dissensions and quarrels that followed, a new party gradually gained ground. It was composed of men who for political reasons wished to maintain the edicts of toleration, and so to allow the fury of religious passions to settle for awhile. In this distracted state of things Charles IX died, in May 1574. His brother hastened to leave his Polish kingdom, from which he fled secretly, as he was afraid the Poles might put hindrances in his way, and succeeded in France as Henry III.

The next few years are free from any decisive events in Europe generally. The first outburst of the great commotions which mark the reign of Elizabeth had subsided.

Things had begun somewhat to find their level. At first all was doubtful and uncertain. The chief actors had to watch eagerly for indications which way fortune was likely to turn. It had seemed that the chances were greatly against Protestantism and Elizabeth. Elizabeth had never ventured to ally herself definitely with the Protestant cause. She had no rational hope that the Netherlands would give Philip so much trouble, or the Huguenots so long make head in France. Year by year Elizabeth's throne grew stronger. The failure of the rising in the north, and then of the Ridolfi plot, showed that she was firm upon her seat. England had been growing more united, more decided, more adventurous. A bold and eager national spirit had been growing up amongst the people. From the year 1572 to 1576 the country was quiet and secure. When again England came forward, it was no longer uncertain of its position or its destiny, but was prepared for a struggle with Spain which should determine the future of both countries, and should decide the fate of Protestantism in Europe.

 

BOOK IV.

HOME GOVERNMENT OF ELIZABETH.