Chapter C (6)

Not only were the Dutch defeated, but dissension of the most violent
nature broke out between the two admirals, and among all the officers
of the fleet. The Provinces were in consternation; De Witt was sent
out to endeavour to put things straight. Van Tromp’s commission was
taken from him, and some of the captains were punished; but the most
guilty are said to have escaped on account of their family
connections.

Both nations were now beginning to be desirous of peace. Holland had
been reduced to great distress, and Charles had found the war attended
with little glory and much expense. De Witt, afraid of the intrigues
of the Orange party, refused to receive an Ambassador at the Hague,
but negotiations were begun at Paris. It was agreed as a basis that
each country should retain whatever possessions they at the moment
had. This was, on the whole, favourable to England, but some trifling
matters remained to be adjusted, and England meanwhile proposed
immediate disarmament. De Witt, knowing the character of King Charles,
and seeing his opportunity, persuaded the States to refuse. Charles,
as he expected, thinking the matter virtually settled, and wanting his
money for other purposes, made no preparations for the coming year. De
Witt, however, equipped a large fleet, which he despatched, early in
the summer, under the command of his brother Cornelius, straight to
the Thames. Sheerness was taken, and the Dutch sailed up the river.
The Medway was guarded by a chain drawn across it, and by three ships
of war; the chain was broken, and the ships burnt. Three more ships
were burnt at Chatham; the Dutch guns were heard in London, and there
was general consternation. Charles immediately sent orders to give way
upon all the points still insisted on by the Dutch, and peace was
signed at Breda.

Thus ended the war between England and Holland. We may console our
national pride by feeling that our ill success was as much owing to
our own imbecile Government as to the merits of our enemy, but it will
be impossible to refuse a tribute of admiration to the latter. We have
grown so accustomed since, in reading of our many glorious wars, to
look with pride upon the map, and to compare our own small island with
the large proportions of our various opponents, that it almost amuses
us, now that it is so long ago, for once to observe the contrary, and
to remember that we were formerly defied and held at bay by a country
of almost exactly the same size as Wales.

I have said that it was some time before England and Holland
recognised the fact, to us so obvious, that it was the common interest
of both countries to join together against France. The rising power of
that country, and the ambition displayed by her King, now began to
open the eyes of her neighbours. Even Charles II. was for a few years
persuaded to adopt the course required by reason; after some
preliminary negotiation, Sir William Temple was sent to the Hague,
where, with a celerity quite unexampled in anything at that time
dependent on the movements of the Dutch Government, he concluded a
Triple Alliance between England, Holland, and Sweden. This was carried
out by De Witt. He had for some time been convinced of the necessity
for it, but he had great difficulties in his way, as some of the
Provinces were in favour of the suicidal policy of an agreement with
France for the division of the Spanish territory in Flanders; De Witt
only carried his point by a breach of the Constitution. He persuaded
the States-General to sign the treaty at once, instead of referring it
back to the local Assemblies, as they were in strictness bound to do.
Had he not felt sure of his position with the people, he could only
have done this at the risk of his head; but there was no danger. He
was at this moment at the very height of popularity and fame. There is
some interest in contemplating a great man at such a moment,
particularly when there is in the background a dark shadow of
impending fate. The interest is in this instance increased by the
modest dignity of the hero; there is something very striking in the
picture drawn by Temple of the life and habits of one who at this
period shone prominently among the most conspicuous figures in
Europe,—his simple dress, his frugal house-keeping, and his single
servant. He lived upon a salary of £300 a year, shortly to be
increased to £700; and he steadily refused all presents from the
State; accepting with difficulty a small one of £1500 from the rich
families of his own Province. His third term of office now expired: he
was again elected for a fourth period of five years; it was to be the
last time.

We are now to witness first the decline, and then the sudden close, of
this memorable career. De Witt’s popularity with the multitude was
never more than a temporary matter; the Prince of Orange was now
growing up, and had already displayed more than ordinary ability. He
was admitted into the Council, and he gathered round him a
considerable party—not large enough to assume the management of
affairs, but sufficiently so to cause division and weakness. On the
other hand, the party of burgomasters and rich citizens—the burgess
oligarchy, as we have called it—to which De Witt properly belonged,
and which had brought him into power, became divided within itself,
one portion only giving him undeviating support. De Witt had ceased,
to a certain extent, to be a party man, and every Minister in a
Constitutional Government who does this runs the risk of being
deserted by his followers. We have seen that, even in the height of
his power, he was unable to procure the punishment of the aristocratic
sea-captains who had misbehaved, and he was now equally unsuccessful
in his attempts to remodel and reorganise the army, which was largely
officered from the same class. But perhaps he did not push his
attempts in this direction with as much vigour as he ought, for he
relied largely upon diplomacy for preventing the necessity of
employing any army at all.

Louis meanwhile applied all his energy and skill to dissolve the
Triple Alliance. He certainly succeeded in persuading the Dutch to
enter into negotiations, but to this De Witt only consented with the
utmost reluctance, evidently because he could not help himself; or we
may feel pretty sure that he would have succeeded in keeping his
country firm to its true interest. In England, however, things were
very different: it was the time of the Cabal—the worst and most
profligate Ministry we have ever had. By bribery of the Ministers, by
the promise of a large subsidy to the King, and with the help of the
beautiful Duchess of Portsmouth, whom he sent over for the purpose,
Louis persuaded our Government suddenly to reverse their whole policy,
to break all their engagements, and to declare war against the United
Provinces.

The French were already prepared. An army of 130,000 men, commanded,
under the King, by Condé, Turenne, Luxembourg, and all the most
distinguished generals of France, advanced upon the frontier. The
Dutch troops were panicstricken and demoralised; the army had, as we
know, been allowed to get into a very unsatisfactory condition. De
Witt had relied chiefly upon the navy for maintaining the greatness of
his country; but he had not been insensible to the deficiencies of the
other branch of the service. He had, as I have said, tried hard, but
not hard enough, to remedy them. His party had always been pledged to
the reduction of the troops in order to keep down the taxation; the
adherents of the House of Orange, who comprised the best officers of
the country, had been unwilling to serve under the present Government,
and the Government had been equally unwilling to employ them. On the
other hand, the rich citizens, whose political support was the main
prop of the Administration, had insisted upon all the best commands
being conferred upon their sons and other relations, who were too
often utterly incompetent. The French passed the Rhine with only a
faint show of opposition, and, scattering their enemies before them,
marched almost to the very suburbs of Amsterdam. In the meantime the
Prince of Orange had been made, first Captain-General of the United
Provinces, and then Stadtholder of Holland and Zealand; his partisans
were everywhere triumphant, and his opponents, particularly after a
gallant but indecisive naval engagement, and a vain effort by De Witt
to make peace, were utterly crushed and discredited. Now comes the
tragic termination of our story. Cornelius de Witt had just
distinguished himself highly in the sea-fight of Solebay, but, on the
testimony of one of the most infamous of mankind, he was accused of
the preposterous charge of attempting to poison the Prince of Orange.
He was put to the torture, which he endured with heroic constancy, and
nothing could be wrung from him. But he was sentenced to be banished.
John de Witt, whose assassination had already been attempted a short
time before, went to convey his brother out of prison, and start him
on his journey. The prison was besieged by an armed mob, who blockaded
the door, and eventually broke into the room, where they found the two
brothers—Cornelius in bed, shattered by the torture which he had
recently undergone, and John, sitting upon the foot of the bed, calmly
reading his Bible. Cornelius, whose fiery and impetuous nature formed
a contrast to the composure and self-control of John, rose, in spite
of his weakness, and angrily bade the intruders begone. John, having
tried in vain to reason with them, put his arm round his brother, and
assisted him to descend the stairs. In the courtyard they were hustled
by the crowd, separated, and eventually murdered,—John, as he fell,
covering his face, like Cæsar, with his cloak.

The end of De Witt’s political career was disastrous, and it is not
easy to assign to him his proper place among the statesmen of the
world. I think, however, it should be on the whole a high one; as to
actual work done, he merely showed that Holland could maintain her
proud position independently of the House of Orange. The great men of
that House, who came before and after him, under whom the United
Provinces were created a nation, and obtained a world-wide renown,
under whom, in a death-struggle with first one and then the other,
they successfully resisted all the strength of the two mightiest
monarchies in the world—those Princes, William the Silent, Maurice,
and William III., have thrown De Witt rather into the shade. It is
only when we take into account the difficulties he had to contend with
that his rare abilities become fully apparent. One of his biographers
has invidiously compared his character with that of Cromwell, who led
a rival Republic at about the same time. But it seems to me that there
are no materials for a comparison; what De Witt might have done as the
all-powerful chief of a large and well-disciplined army is an unknown
quantity. On the other hand, how would the great Protector, with his
irritable temper and his unintelligible speeches, have succeeded in
doing the work of De Witt? We must remember that Cromwell at the most
critical period only saved himself and his country by turning out half
his Parliament into the street. He cut the Gordian knot; while De Witt
was compelled to be continually untying it. There is a good simile,
supposed to have been used by an illustrious statesman of the present
day as regards his own position, but far less applicable to him than
to the Pensionary: ‘De Witt was like a man out hunting upon a mule.’