Chapter VIII: Part 8

“The next measures of the new governor were the reëstablishment of the inquisition, the promulgation of the decrees of the council of Trent, the revocation of the duchess of Parma’s edicts, and the royal refusal to recognize the terms of her treaties with the Protestants. He immediately established a special tribunal, composed of twelve members, with full powers to inquire into and pronounce judgment on every circumstance connected with the late troubles. He named himself president of this council, and appointed a Spaniard, named Vargas, as vice-president—a wretch of the most diabolical cruelty. Several others of the judges were also Spaniards, in direct infraction of the fundamental laws of the country. This council, immortalized by its infamy, was named by the new governor (for so Alva was in fact, though not yet in name), the Council of Troubles. By the people it was soon designated the Council of Blood. In its atrocious proceedings no respect was paid to titles, contracts, or privileges, however sacred. Its judgments were without appeal. Every subject of the state was amenable to its summons; clergy and laity, the first individuals of the country, as well as the most wretched outcasts of society. Its decrees were passed with disgusting rapidity and contempt of form. Contumacy was punished with exile and confiscation. Those who, strong in innocence, dared to brave a trial, were lost without resource. The accused were forced to its bar without previous warning. Many a wealthy citizen was dragged to trial four leagues’ distance, tied to a horse’s tail. The number of victims was appalling. On one occasion, the town of Valenciennes alone saw fifty-five of its citizens fall by the hands of the executioner. Hanging, beheading, quartering, and burning, were the every-day spectacles. The enormous confiscations only added to the thirst for gold and blood by which Alva and his satellites were parched. History offers no example of parallel horrors: for while party vengeance on other occasions had led to scenes of fury and terror, they arose, in this instance, from the vilest cupidity and the most cold-blooded cruelty.

“After _three months_ of such atrocity, Alva, fatigued rather than satiated with butchery, resigned his hateful functions wholly into the hands of Vargas, who was chiefly aided by the members Delrio and Dela Torre. Even at this remote period we cannot repress the indignation excited by the mention of those monsters, and it is impossible not to feel satisfaction in fixing upon their names the brand of historic execration. One of these wretches, called Hesselts, used at length to sleep during the mock trials of the already doomed victims; and as often as he was roused up by his colleagues, he used to cry out mechanically, “To the gibbet! to the gibbet!” so familiar was his tongue with the sounds of condemnation.

“The despair of the people may be imagined from the fact, that until the end of the year 1567 their only consolation was the prospect of the king’s arrival! He never dreamt of coming. Even the delight of feasting in horrors like these could not conquer his indolence. The good duchess of Parma,—for so she was in comparison with her successor,—was not long left to oppose the feeble barrier of her prayers between Alva and his victims. She demanded her dismissal from the nominal dignity, which was now but a title of disgrace. Philip granted it readily, accompanied by a hypocritical letter, a present of 30,000 crowns, and the promise of an annual pension of 20,000 more. She left Brussels in the month of April, 1568, raised to a high place in the esteem and gratitude of the people, less by any actual claims from her own conduct, than by its fortuitous contrast with the infamy of her successor. She retired to Italy, and died at Naples in the month of February, 1586.

“In addition to the horrors acted by the Council of Blood, Alva committed many deeds of collateral but minor tyranny: among others, he issued a decree forbidding, under severe penalties, any inhabitant of the country to marry without his express permission. His furious edicts against emigration were attempted to be enforced in vain. Elizabeth of England opened all the ports of her kingdom to the Flemish refugees, who carried with them those abundant stores of manufacturing knowledge which she wisely knew to be the elements of national wealth.

“Alva soon summoned the prince of Orange, his brothers, and all the confederate lords, to appear before the council and answer to the charge of high treason. The prince gave a prompt and contemptuous answer, denying the authority of Alva and his council, and acknowledging for his judges only the emperor, whose vassal he was, or the king of Spain in person, as president of the order of the Golden Fleece. The other lords made replies nearly similar. The trials of each were, therefore, proceeded on, by contumacy; confiscation of property being an object almost as dear to the tyrant viceroy as the death of his victims. Judgments were promptly pronounced against those present or absent, alive or dead. Witness the case of the unfortunate marquess of Bergues, who had previously expired at Madrid, as was universally believed, by poison; and his equally ill-fated colleague in the embassy, the baron Montigny, was for a while imprisoned at Segovia, where he was soon after secretly beheaded, on the base pretext of former disaffection.

“The departure of the duchess of Parma having left Alva undisputed as well as unlimited authority, he proceeded rapidly in his terrible career. The count of Beuren was seized at Louvain, and sent prisoner to Madrid; and wherever it was possible to lay hands on a suspected patriot, the occasion was not neglected. It would be a revolting task to enter into a minute detail of all the horrors committed, and impossible to record the names of the victims who so quickly fell before Alva’s insatiate cruelty. The people were driven to frenzy. Bands of wretches fled to the woods and marshes; whence, half famished and perishing for want, they revenged themselves with pillage and murder. Pirates infested and ravaged the coast; and thus, from both sea and land, the whole extent of the Netherlands was devoted to carnage and ruin. The chronicles of Brabant and Holland, chiefly written in Flemish by contemporary authors, abound in thrilling details of the horrors of this general desolation, with long lists of those who perished. Suffice it to say, that on the recorded boast of Alva himself, he caused 18,000 inhabitants of the Low Countries to perish by the hands of the executioner, during his less than six years’ sovereignty in the Netherlands.

“The most important of these tragical scenes was now soon to be acted. The counts Egmont and Horn, having submitted to some previous interrogatories by Vargas and others, were removed from Ghent to Brussels, on the 3d of June, under a strong escort. The following day they passed through the mockery of a trial before the Council of Blood; and on the 5th, they were both beheaded in the great square of Brussels, in the presence of Alva, who gloated on the spectacle from a balcony that commanded the execution. The same day Vanstraelen and Casambrot shared the fate of their illustrious friends, in the castle of Vilvorde, with many others, whose names only find a place in the local chronicles of the times.”

All Europe at last burst out into execration and remonstrance, and an army was raised in Germany, which William of Orange headed, but which, after some victories, was dispersed by Alva. A frightful inundation aided him; for “no suffering could affect his inflexible sternness; and to such excess did he carry his persecution, that Philip himself began to be discontented, and reproached him sharply in some of his despatches. The governor replied in the same strain, and such was the effect of this correspondence, that Philip resolved to remove him.”

We will not follow the history through the short term of Requesens’s rule, or even through that of Don John of Austria, and of the Prince of Parma, though the latter would be well suited to our purpose. The happiest result of Philip’s obstinacy was the Declaration of National Independence by the States-General, assembled at Antwerp, who, after one or two trials of other princes, at length conferred the Sovereignty on the Prince of Orange.

In the end, the independence of Holland was maintained; but Philip conferred on Albert of Austria, and Isabella, the sovereignty of the reconciled southern provinces. Grattan gives a picture of the country at this time, which contrasts mournfully with the one given of it thirty years before.

“The reconciled provinces presented the most deplorable spectacle. The chief towns were almost depopulated. The inhabitants had in a great measure fallen victims to war, pestilence, and famine. Little inducement existed to replace by marriage the ravages caused by death, for few men wished to propagate a race which divine wrath seemed to have marked for persecution. The thousands of villages which had covered the face of the country were absolutely abandoned to the wolves, which had so rapidly increased, that they attacked not merely cattle and children, but grown-up persons. The dogs, driven abroad by hunger, had become as ferocious as other beasts of prey, and joined in large packs to hunt down brutes and men. Neither fields, nor woods, nor roads, were now to be distinguished by any visible limits. All was an entangled mass of trees, weeds, and grass. The prices of the necessaries of life were so high, that people of rank, after selling every thing to buy bread, were obliged to have recourse to open beggary in the streets of the great towns.

“From this frightful picture, and the numerous details which imagination may readily supply, we gladly turn to the contrast afforded by the northern states. Those we have just described have a feeble hold upon our sympathies; we cannot pronounce their sufferings to be unmerited. The want of firmness or enlightenment, which preferred such an existence to the risk of entire destruction, only heightens the glory of the people whose unyielding energy and courage gained them so proud a place among the independent nations of Europe.”

The assassination of the noble William of Orange, at the instigation of Philip, forms a fitting crime with which to close this section of the subject.

But before leaving the subject of the Netherlands, we must speak of one more passage of its history, viz: that which is connected with the name of Joseph II.

In the mean time, if it did, by its own internal energies, recover somewhat from the condition in which Philip II. left it, it had suffered through its connection with Austria, all the horrors of being the battle-ground of the rival houses of Bourbon and Hapsburgh, especially during the disastrous ten years of the War of Succession, in Spain.

With Joseph II., a new species of oppression commenced. This emperor’s character has been made the subject of a great deal of disquisition. He is the first, the only monarch of his race who ever seems to have entertained in his brain, the idea of a duty owing from a monarch to the nations under his sway; if indeed it were not after all rather a notion of the free grace of benevolence, that impelled him to make a plan of benefiting the people, under him by a new organization of the large part of Europe which the centralising selfishness and rapacity of his ancestors had connected into a heterogenoeous whole. But it is a very different thing to have an idea of reform, whether it calls itself duty or beneficence, and to have the character of a reformer. Out of the heart are the issues of life. Even Coxe (the apologist of the House of Austria, although he admits _the facts_ which make against that aim of his work and which have been so largely quoted in this volume) says, in the very chapter in which he speaks of the specific reforms of Joseph, and among many others of his abolition of useless tribunals and feudal offices, which were dilatory and oppressive, “_he yet introduced a still greater evil, by making the basis of the administration_, THE ABSOLUTE WILL _of the sovereign, from which there could be_ NO APPEAL.”

Here Coxe strikes upon the Hapsburghs, the character _in the blood_, (or is it in the spiritual tradition of families?) Without supposing Joseph consciously insincere in his idea of reform, beneficence, or duty; yet here we see that he was incapable of the principle, no less from personal character than from the falseness of his position. He said that his “greatest honour would be to reign over freemen,”[6] but the point he could not give up was precisely that of “reigning,” and to _reign_ over _freemen_ is _reductio ad absurdum_. Joseph never used the word _reign_ in a limited sense. It is only possible, in this work, to give one illustration of Joseph’s character as a reformer and promoter of the welfare of his subjects. We shall give it in the words of Coxe himself, that no one may say it is the one-sided view of a _republican_, who is acting the part of an advocate rather than of an historian. We give the whole of Coxe’s hundred and twenty-ninth chapter.

“That rich and fertile territory, usually known by the synonymous appellations of the Netherlands and the Low Countries, formed part of the vast dominions which had been attached to the Spanish monarchy. Conquered by the joint forces of the Maritime Powers, it was transferred, at the peace of Utrecht, under their guaranty, to the house of Austria, on condition that the ancient laws, customs, and constitutions should be inviolably preserved. The late emperor, Charles VI., was inaugurated on these terms. His daughter, Maria Theresa, entered into similar engagements on her accession; but during her reign some changes, with the consent, if not at the request, of the states, were introduced in the mode of representation in Brabant, and in the system of taxation. _Joseph gave the same solemn sanction to the existing constitution._

“Perhaps there was no country on the surface of the globe so small in extent, under the government of one prince, of which the component parts differed so widely in manners, government, and laws. Each of the provinces not only formed a separate sovereignty, enjoying a peculiar constitution, but the same variation extended to the cities and districts. In most of the provinces the rights and privileges were founded on tradition or prescription; but in Brabant and Limburgh they were detailed in a charter called La Joyeuse Entrée, which contained fifty-nine articles, a collection of ancient usages and immunities granted by the former dukes of Brabant. The sovereign was restrained from conferring charges on any except natives, no inhabitant was to be tried out of the country, and full liberty of speech was to be allowed in the assembly of the states, with many other privileges; the charter was also concluded with a declaration similar to the celebrated clause in the coronation oath of Andrew II., king of Hungary, that if the sovereign should cease to observe the articles, his subjects should also cease to obey him, until the breaches in the constitution were repaired, and the immunities restored.

“The power of the clergy was almost unbounded; the hierarchy consisted of one archbishop and seven bishops; there were also a hundred and eight abbeys, each endowed with annual revenues from 60,000 to 300,000 florins, numerous convents, and the number of religious persons, regular and secular, of both sexes, amounted to 30,000. The clergy possessed a considerable part of the landed property, and being the first order of the states, were enabled to relieve themselves from a considerable part of the public burdens, by fixing the land-tax at a low rate, and throwing the imposts on articles of consumption.

“Their predominant influence was extended by the system of public education, which was subjected to the immediate control of the hierarchy. The university of Louvain had long been celebrated for its numerous and richly-endowed colleges, and was formerly distinguished for learning and discipline. It possessed extraordinary privileges, with the patronage of numerous benefices, both in the Netherlands and in the bishopric of Liege; and above all, its academical honours were indispensable qualifications for the possession of every civil and ecclesiastical office. The members devoted to the papal see, maintained a blind adherence to the system of the ancient schoolmen, and proscribed all innovations adopted in other seminaries.

“In this country, and among a people so tenacious of their customs, liberties, and religion, Joseph did not merely attempt to reform abuses and lop superfluous branches, _but even laid the axe to the root of the constitution itself_. He purposed to force on the natives what he termed a simple and efficient form of government, and to establish yearly the same system of ecclesiastical polity, finance, and jurisprudence, as he had introduced into his hereditary countries. He commenced his innovations at an early period of his reign by abolishing several convents, prohibiting processions, jubilees, and confraternities, and removing statues, images, and offerings from the churches.

“But in 1786 his plans were fully developed. He reformed the system of public education, by abrogating the privileges of the university of Louvain, and instituting a new seminary for the study of theology, over which he placed foreigners as directors, independent of the control of the bishops, and at which he ordered all youths destined for the church to pursue their studies. The innovation was vehemently opposed, and in December, 1786, gave rise to a tumult among the students, which was not suppressed without a military force. The archbishop of Mechlin, who took an active part, was summoned to Vienna, and the papal nuncio, who had countenanced the opposition to the imperial decrees, was abruptly ordered to quit the Netherlands. This attempt was followed by similar changes in the civil government.

“The abolition of their venerated constitution excited universal indignation and alarm among the people of the Netherlands. The clergy and laity formed a common cause for mutual security. Brabant became the focus of opposition; the states, in the terms of their constitution, refused to grant the customary subsidies, until their grievances were redressed; they forbade the collectors of the revenue to acknowledge the authority of the new intendants, and presented a spirited remonstrance to the governors-general. They suppressed also the new seminary at Louvain, dismissed the foreign professors, invited the other states to form a general confederacy, and claimed the guaranty of foreign powers, particularly of France. Their example was followed by the other provinces. Tumults burst forth in different places, the populace assumed the national cockade in imitation of the French, and the aspect of the whole country portended an insurrection.

“On the 28th of May, 1787, Joseph received the first account of the tumults at Pereslaf, as he was preparing to cross the Dnieper. But infatuated with his plans, despising the danger, and employed in paying court to Catherine, he slighted the intelligence, and gave orders that no letters should be forwarded to him during the journey. He determined, however, to pursue rigorous measures, and in answer to strong representations in favour of lenity and caution, replied, “the flame of rebellion can only be extinguished by blood.” On his return to Pereslaf, he learnt with astonishment and agitation the progress of the insurrection; and after taking a hasty leave of Catherine, returned to Vienna in the beginning of July. New mortifications awaited his arrival. He was thunderstruck with the intelligence that the Flemings, instead of awaiting the repeal of the obnoxious edicts, had risen in arms, and obtained concessions from the governors-general; and that prince Kaunitz had not only approved these lenient measures, but pledged himself for the acquiescence of his sovereign.

“Joseph highly reprobated the conduct of the governors-general, and of his minister, as feeble and pusillanimous, and expressed his inflexible resolution to enforce the execution of his plans. He ordered troops to march to the Netherlands; summoned the governors-general and count Belgiojoso to Vienna; and at the same time despatched an angry mandate to the contumacious states, commanding them, as a mark of obedience, to submit their complaints, and apologise for their misconduct at the foot of the throne.

“The states did not refuse to give the required proof of obedience, but charged their deputies to express the loyalty of the nation and represent its grievances. On the 15th of August they were admitted to an audience, and their chief addressed the emperor in a speech replete with professions of loyalty, accompanied with firmness and spirit; and, at the conclusion, they were permitted to read the list of their grievances.

“The emperor, who had scarcely restrained his indignation during the recital, replied sternly: ‘The great dissatisfaction which I feel from all the late proceedings in my Belgic provinces cannot be effaced by a vain parade of words: nothing but a series of actions can prove the sincerity of your professions. I have charged prince Kaunitz to communicate to you in writing, for the information of the states, certain articles, the execution of which must precede any deliberation. Your instant and entire obedience is not only necessary to restore all things to their proper order, but to put a stop to the present interruption of commerce. I give you daily proofs that the good of my subjects is the sole object of all my actions, and you must be convinced that I have no thought of overturning your constitution, as in the moment of your greatest outrages, and when you have deserved my utmost indignation, with all the power which I possess, I only reiterate to you my assurances that I will preserve your liberties.’

“The conditions announced with this parade of liberality, comprised the restoration of all innovations, the payment of the subsidies, and the revocation of all orders issued by the states contrary to the views of the sovereign. In case of an immediate compliance, the emperor promised that the ancient tribunals and administration of justice should be restored, that the intendancies should not be established, nor the abbeys deprived of their privileges. He promised also that the territorial impost of forty per cent., and the military conscription should not be introduced into the Netherlands.

“Promises so vague, accompanied by demands so contradictory, did not satisfy the Belgic states, and they announced their resolution not to comply with the preliminary articles without full security for the redress of their grievances. But while the people were expecting the march of the imperial troops, and were making preparations for resistance, a sudden change took place in the conduct of Joseph. As he could not venture to drive his subjects of the Netherlands to desperation while embarrassed with the Turkish war, he endeavoured to attain by artifice what he could not effect by force. He therefore treated the deputies with the greatest condescension, and affected a willingness to accede to most of their demands. These concessions produced the desired effect, and the objects in dispute were amicably arranged. The states announced their compliance with the wishes of their sovereign, the volunteers laid down their arms, and, in return, the march of the imperial troops was countermanded. Count Murray issued the edict which suppressed the new ordinances, and promised that conferences should be held with the states, to adjust the subjects remaining in dispute.

“These measures occasioned a temporary restoration of tranquillity. But it was soon evident that Joseph only suspended his projects to deceive his subjects. He dismissed Count Murray, who had tranquillised the minds of the people. The army in the Netherlands was silently augmented, and the command intrusted to general d’Alton, a man of undaunted and inflexible temper, united to the spirit of a rigid disciplinarian. Count Trautmansdorf was appointed minister plenipotentiary ad interim, with instructions which proved the views and insincerity of the emperor. He was ordered to consider the declaration of count Murray as extorted by fear, and consequently invalid; to hold no conference with the states on the subjects in dispute; to remove gradually all disaffected persons from their employments; but above all, to effect a complete reform in the supreme council of Brabant, ‘without which,’ to use the words of the emperor, ‘nothing could be done.’ He was no less positively enjoined to commence his administration with the re-establishment of the general seminary at Louvain.

“On the arrival of Trautmansdorf at Brussels, in October, 1787, he found the people in a state of general agitation, and with suspicions naturally inspired by the prevarications of the sovereign, watching all his proceedings with a jealous eye. He therefore suspended the execution of the decree for the suppression of the university during three months, and gained great popularity by this act of indulgence. The other demands were obtained without difficulty, and the subsidies which had been refused unanimously voted, with a declaration that this compliance was a testimony of gratitude for the appointment of a minister so agreeable to the nation.

“Joseph, too ardent and arbitrary to listen to the dictates of prudence or justice, disapproved the suspension, and issued peremptory orders to establish the general seminary, whatever might be the consequence. His views were warmly supported by general d’Alton, who was eager to bring the military force into action, and boasted that he could subjugate the whole Netherlands in six weeks. Trautmansdorf, reluctantly fulfilling an order of which he deplored the fatal consequences, commanded the rector and other members of the university to submit to the plan of reform. The whole body appealing to the council of Brabant, he required the latter to enforce the imperial decree, allowed only two hours for deliberation, and threatened, in case of refusal, to employ force, and revoke the recent concessions. At the same time d’Alton drew out a body of troops, with artillery, near the house in which the council was assembled, and sent a detachment through the streets to awe the populace. The states, however, still undaunted, disdained to return an answer, and only ordered the message to be entered on their journals. The detachment which patrolled the streets being insulted, fired on the populace; a tumult ensued, in which six persons were killed and several wounded, and d’Alton poured a body of troops into the Town-house. But at this awful crisis Trautmansdorf again suspended the rising commotion by ceasing to press his demands, and by declaring that the general had drawn out the troops without his concurrence.

“Intelligence of these proceedings being transmitted to Vienna, the emperor rewarded the officer who had ordered the troops to fire, and encouraged d’Alton to persist in coercive measures; yet, with the same duplicity as before, he held forth to the natives the offer of a general amnesty and complete restitution of his favour. The governor-general, who returned at this juncture, found the country in a state of apparent tranquillity, and the people impressed with hopes that Joseph had at length relinquished his impolitic designs. But within a few days after this public declaration, the university was again closed, the rector banished for three years, and the refractory members expelled; while a body of troops, stationed in Louvain, slaughtered many of the inhabitants, who assembled to deplore the overthrow of that university which had been their pride and support. The general seminary was reëstablished; the colleges of Mechlin and Antwerp, celebrated for the education of youth destined to the ecclesiastical profession, were likewise closed, and the same measures of coercion employed against the inhabitants.

“Soon after these violent proceedings, the states of the different provinces assembled to grant the ordinary subsidies, and notwithstanding the causes of dissatisfaction, all complied with the usual custom except those of Hainault and Brabant. Their refusal drew from the emperor a severe address, in which he threatened to revoke the amnesty, to prosecute all who had taken part in the late troubles, to annul their privileges, and to abrogate the Joyous Entry. The states of Brabant, alarmed by these threats, sent on the 26th of January, 1789, a petition to deprecate the anger of the sovereign, and procured the suspension of the impending punishment. Those of the Hainault, persisting in their resolution, their assembly was dissolved on the 31st by the military force, their chiefs arrested, and their constitution abolished. Confident that this severe example would intimidate the refractory states of Brabant, Joseph announced his intention to make a change in their government, which should prevent a repetition of their contumacy, and secure the regular grant of a permanent subsidy, by extending the right of representation to other towns and districts.

“In the present temper of the country such an arbitrary project excited general indignation; and the whole province became a scene of civil commotion.

“While Brabant was thus divided by internal feuds, Joseph seized the opportunity to overthrow the constitution. By his command, Trautmansdorf summoned an extraordinary meeting of the states, and required their concurrence in the proposition for increasing the third order, and establishing a permanent subsidy. The deputies, however, boldly refused their consent, exclaiming with one accord, ‘though the emperor may dissolve us, we will not violate a constitution which we have solemnly pledged ourselves to preserve.’ In consequence of this refusal, the edict was enforced, the assembly dissolved, and the Joyous Entry annulled. The deputies repaired to the hall of the council of Brabant, and protested against these proceedings; but their protests were disregarded, and on the ensuing morning three imperial edicts proclaimed the dissolution of the ancient constitution, the new arrangement for the administration of justice, and various alterations in the imposition and collection of the taxes.

“Joseph fondly considered this event as the termination of the struggle; and d’Alton reëchoed his sentiments when he said, ‘the 18th of June is a happy epoch for the house of Austria; for on that day, the victory of Kolin saved the monarchy, and the emperor became master of the Netherlands.’ But neither the infatuated monarch nor his sanguine general were acquainted with the resolution and sentiments of a free nation. Although the presence of the military prevented an immediate tumult, this apparent tranquillity was the calm which precedes the storm. The licentious spirit, which at this time agitated France, spread like an electric shock among a people who were provoked by repeated insults and oppressions; the patriots daily augmenting in numbers exulted in the hope of being assisted by their neighbours, and of forming a similar constitution on the ruins of the Austrian government. Vengeance and retaliation were denounced against the royalists; the walls, churches, and houses were covered with placards, calling on the people to imitate the example set by the citizens of Paris.

“Trautmansdorf, who had before averted the danger by prudence and lenity, was now anxious to meet it with firmness. Conscious that the imperial troops, who scarcely amounted to 20,000, were too few to awe a whole nation, he earnestly requested an accession of force. His apprehensions were ridiculed by d’Alton, who boasted that after sending a battalion of each regiment to the army in Hungary, he should still be able to maintain internal tranquillity; and Joseph reluctantly despatched only a single regiment, ‘not because he deemed it necessary, but to encourage a timid government.’ The forebodings of the minister were too soon realised. Scarcely a month elapsed after the dissolution of the ancient constitution, before the people tumultuously rose, in various districts released the arrested persons, attacked the military, and plundered the houses of the magistrates. In these commotions many lives were lost at Tirlemont, Louvain, Antwerp, and Mons, before tranquillity could be restored, and at Diest, the patriots led on by the monks, expelled the imperial troops and the magistrates. Brussels being likewise the scene of a momentary effervescence, the minister proposed to disarm the citizens; but this measure was rejected by d’Alton, who, presuming on the force of military discipline, contemptuously exclaimed, ‘If they want arms, I will supply them.’

“At this period many young men of Brussels, who had uttered seditious speeches, were sent without trial to serve in the army of Hungary; and in the agitated state of the public mind, this arbitrary act spread through the nation indignant and sullen despondency. Emigrations took place from all quarters; the fugitives repairing to the frontiers of Holland and Liege, joined those who had quitted their country in the preceding troubles, and formed a numerous body, ready to act offensively against the government. They found an able chief in Van-der-Noot, a factious advocate of Brussels, who had taken an active part during the troubles, and at whose instigation the third estate had refused to grant the annual subsidy. Being arrested and condemned for treason, he had in 1787 escaped into England. After ineffectually endeavouring to obtain for his countrymen the protection and assistance of the British cabinet, he repaired to Berlin. Receiving from the king of Prussia only dubious promises, he went to Holland, where he was permitted to reside under a feigned name, by the connivance of the Dutch government, which on this occasion imitated the conduct of Joseph towards the exiles in the late revolution. He returned in 1789 to Breda, whither he drew the archbishop of Mechlin, the abbot of Tongaloo, Crumpiper, the chancellor of Brabant, many of the nobility of Brussels, almost all the members from the states, and Van Eupen, canon of Antwerp. By their efforts, the emigrants were disciplined, distributed in different parts of the neighbouring country, arms and ammunition secured, and a force amounting to 10,000 men organised and appointed. A committee was established at Breda for the regulation of their proceedings, and their views seconded by another secret committee at Brussels.

“In the midst of this ferment, the emperor strangely blending conciliation and severity, published a decree reëstablishing the university of Louvain, in all its rights and privileges. This ridiculous versatility excited contempt instead of giving satisfaction, and produced no effect in allaying internal disaffection, or checking the efforts of the party in Holland. A regular plan of hostilities was digested by the chiefs of the insurgents, and Van-der-Mersch, an officer who had signalised himself in the imperial service during the seven years’ war, was appointed commander. Van-der-Noot assumed the title of plenipotentiary agent of the people of Brabant, and a manifesto, under his signature, was published ‘in the name of the clergy and third estate of Brabant, in union with many of the nobility, renouncing their allegiance and declaring that they no longer considered Joseph as their sovereign.’ This manifesto, as a declaration of war, was sent to the government, and followed by the march of the patriot army into Brabant.

“With a view to counteract its effects, the government of Brussels ordered it to be burnt by the common executioner, and published a long vindication of the emperor; urging that although he had abrogated the Joyous Entry, yet he had confirmed the essential principles of the constitution, the security of persons and property. To awe the disaffected within the walls, many persons of the first rank were arrested on a charge of conspiracy, the gates were shut, palisadoes planted on the fortifications, the citizens disarmed, and active preparations made for defence.

“Meanwhile hostilities commenced. A party of patriots, marching from the neighbourhood of Breda, surprised, on the 25th of October, the forts of Lillo and Liefgenshoek, on the Scheld, made the scanty garrison prisoners, and conveyed the guardship to Bergen-op-Zoom. Another body of 3000 men, under the command of Van-der-Mersch, penetrated to Turnhout, and though many were armed only with bludgeons, pitchforks, and staves, and without cannon, they repulsed the imperial general Schroeder, who attacked them with 1500 men. This unexpected victory, proclaimed a miracle by the monks, increased the spirit and numbers of the insurgents, while it disheartened the royalists. But on the approach of general d’Arberg with 7000 men, the patriots retired within the Dutch territories, and concealing their arms, as usual, dispersed themselves in Dutch Brabant and the neighbouring districts of Liege, waiting for a more favourable opportunity to renew their incursions.

“While the imperial general remained at Hogstraten, the insurgents made a new and more effectual attempt on the side of Flanders. A body despatched by Van-der-Mersch approached Ghent, seized two of the gates, and forcing their way into the town, were joined by the burghers with cannon and ammunition; the garrison of 1200 men was overpowered by numbers, driven across the Scheld, and blockaded in the barracks of the fort of St. Pierre. D’Arberg with 3000 men hastened to the scene of action, and occupied the citadel; but he was unable to stem the torrent of revolt. Bruges and Courtray declared for the rebels; new succours poured into Ghent; the fort of St. Pierre was stormed, the troops in the barracks made prisoners, and d’Arberg himself forced to retire in the night to Brussels. All Flanders was instantly emancipated; the states assembling at Ghent, in November, 1789, published a declaration of independence, and invited the other provinces to form a general alliance. Terror and despondency spread to the seat of government, the governors-general quitted Brussels; d’Alton and Trautmansdorf, whose disputes were increased by the impending dangers, acted without concert; d’Alton concentrated his troops to make a last effort for the preservation of the capital, Trautmansdorf liberated the arrested persons, restored arms to the citizens, and issued no less than twenty-two declarations in the name of the emperor, hoping to conciliate the people by suppressing the seminary at Antwerp, reëstablishing the Joyous Entry, and declaring an amnesty.

“Of this confusion and alarm the patriot chiefs availed themselves with equal vigour, skill, and promptitude. Vander-Mersch, assembling a body of insurgents, made a new irruption into Brabant, seized Diest, and advancing to Tirlemont, threatened Louvain. D’Alton instantly marched against the rebels, but pressed by the insurgents of Flanders, and unwilling to risk a battle which, if unfortunate, would have left him no hope of retreat, he suddenly concluded, with the acquiescence of Trautmansdorf, an armistice for ten days, which was to be provisionally extended, with the consent of the states of Brabant. In this interval he hoped to turn his forces against Flanders, but every moment of delay was fatal to the imperial cause; the patriots anticipated his designs, seduced whole troops of his soldiers, augmented their party by new accessions of force, and organised an insurrection at Brussels, which terminated the struggle. On the 8th of December the women and children endeavored to demolish the intrenchments, and tore up the palisadoes. The people assumed a national cockade; the streets resounded with the cries of “Long live the patriots! Long live Van-der-Noot!” The soldiers began to desert, and two companies of the regiment of Murray at once joined the patriots.

“On the 11th, an officer imprudently attempting to snatch a cockade from the hat of a burgher, a tumult ensued, and the inhabitants flew to arms. The imperial troops, separated and discouraged, were attacked by different bands of the populace, assisted by the deserters, and, after a conflict which continued the greater part of the night, were driven into the upper town. D’Alton, fallen from his former presumption, dreading the approach of Van-der-Mersch on one side, and the Flemish army on the other, doubtful of his troops, who were reduced to 5000 men, surrounded by secret and declared enemies, was happy to secure his retreat by a capitulation. He quitted Brussels on the evening of the 12th, leaving the cannon, military chests and stores in the hands of the insurgents, and took the route to Luxemburgh, pillaging, plundering, and wasting the country as he passed. The example of the capital was followed by the other towns; the imperial troops successively retired from Antwerp, Louvain, and Mechlin into Luxemburgh, and the governor-general Bender, assuming the command, prepared to defend that duchy, which alone continued faithful to the house of Austria.

“The news of the revolution affected Joseph to an alarming degree, and made a deep impression on his mind, already weakened by bodily and mental infirmities. He burst into tears, complaining bitterly that he had been deceived by the intelligence from Brussels; he acknowledged his total inability to devise measures for the recovery of those valuable dominions, and demanded the advice of Kaunitz, whom he had yet scarcely deigned to consult on these momentous events. By his suggestions he consented to adopt conciliatory measures, and count Philip Cobenzl, who was supposed to possess great influence in the Netherlands, was despatched to Brussels to tranquillise the people, by revoking the late edicts, and restoring their privileges. These measures were, however, adopted too late. When Cobenzl reached the frontier, all the provinces, except Luxemburgh, were in the possession of the insurgents, the congress was convoked to form a new constitution, and his overtures were rejected with disdain.

“In this moment of distress Joseph found no resource. He in vain appealed to the empire; he in vain obtained a circular letter from the pope to the prelates of the Netherlands recommending them to return to obedience. Embarrassed by the Turkish war, deriving no assistance from the courts of Versailles and Petersburgh, his sole allies on the Continent, he was reduced to the alternative of courting the interposition of Prussia, his inveterate enemy, England, whom he had betrayed and insulted, and Holland, whom he had despised and humbled. His haughty spirit was broken by calamity and disease; he grasped even at the shadow of a hope, and was eager to embrace any measure, however degrading, for the recovery of the Netherlands, even though he should reduce them again to that dependence on the Maritime Powers from which it had been his boast to emancipate them. He hoped to conciliate Prussia by cessions on the side of Poland; he trusted that England would gladly tender her assistance to obtain the renewal of the Barrier Treaty; he relied on the jealousy which the independence of the Netherlands would excite in Holland; he flattered himself that the chiefs of the different provinces would return to their allegiance, and accept a free constitution under the guaranty of the triple alliance. But he was again deceived. England refused to interfere in a cause which was opposed by her great continental ally; Holland beheld his distress with indifference, if not with satisfaction; Frederic William, who was maturing a grand system for the reduction of Austria, fomented the discontents in the Netherlands, and exerted all his efforts to inflame that hostile spirit which pervaded every part of the hereditary dominions, and was rising against Joseph in the different courts of Europe.”

We have preferred taking this account from Coxe, not only because we wish to strengthen our argument for the justice of the title of our book by giving, whenever it is possible, the testimony of the conservative historian, who cannot be suspected of colouring too darkly the acts of what he considers the legitimate government; but because we think Mr. Grattan has not done justice to the Netherlanders in his account of the same transactions. In his sympathy with the special reforms of Joseph, (his toleration acts, and abolition of old evils,) he overlooks the fact that all along he was breaking the highest of all laws, and that which entered in to the very fountains of the nation’s life, by setting aside the _constitutional rights_ which were born with their birth, and which can never be arbitrarily abolished by any foreign power without fatal effects. Constitutional reform must be always a Phœnix death-birth. All Joseph’s political philosophy was a mere maggot of his brain, fevered into being by the exciting atmosphere of the eighteenth century, an influence wholly external; it had no part or lot with that eternal progressive force, which develops itself through the heart of men, and acts because it must, in spite of all individual fancies, being rarely understood in full by the very individuals by whom it manifests itself the most strongly. George Washington indeed seems to have acted in sight of his principle in his majestic self-abnegations, although we are unable to pronounce with entire certainty on those secrets of the individual heart and soul, which, in his case, were covered with such a veil of natural and habitual reserve, as no friend was intimate enough to dare lift up. Was it that there was too much of the future there, to be appreciable in those days, by eyes profane?

It may be that as the race makes progress, there is a growing recognition between those irresistible impulses of humanity, which are deeper than all selfish emotions or volitions, and those higher ideas, which correspond to them in the intellectual spheres; and hence a consciousness, which is not weakening but strengthening, (inasmuch as it repudiates all personalities,) may show itself in the great men of the present and future. When Washington, risking everything upon a certain battle, and being asked what was to be done if it was lost, calmly replied, ‘it will then be necessary to retreat (he meant the people and not merely the army) behind the Alleghanies, and defend ourselves there;’ there was in his heart, if not in his head, the truth, that there is nothing impossible to him that wills the right. Kossuth, sixty years later, carries this grand will into the intellectual sphere, and explains the coincidence of absolute justice, not only with this instinct of the brave, but with interest—well understood, yet without lowering the first to the limitations of the last, and thereby losing the power to remove mountains, which comes only from the principle which is the evidence of things unseen.

Reform is a great thing. It must work from within outward. If it commences on the outside, while the principle that made all the abuses is unchanged, as in the case of Joseph II., the bad is made worse, and the futile agent is the first victim of the inevitable reaction. But there is some reason to believe that the day of reform is dawning,—when the old world—and the old world’s law—is brought face to face with the new world, almost unconscious of any principle but self-help, and the thorn-crowned martyr of the one, who represents the outraged individuality and rights of nations, explains the meaning of the hour to the other, by the words: ‘Thou hast as much religion as humanity—_and no more_,’ adding, with the supreme grace of self-abnegation, ‘the works which I do, and the words that I speak, are not mine, but His who sent me.’ It is indeed an era in the political world, when not only the experienced victim of the old system, but the nonchalant, unsentimental, self-asserting politician of the new, unite in _seeing_, to say nothing of declaring that nations have the same interest in international law, which individuals have in the laws of their country.

When the individuality of nations, and the law that at once individualizes and unites them, is promulgated in the light of reason,[7] in which flourish all the ‘humanities’ of science, art, virtue, and love, as well as in the dark depths of instinctive feeling, whose issues are war, and all terrible retributions—there is some ground for hope that the nations may

“keep the heights
Which they are competent to gain.”

We will here observe that it is plain from the foregoing and the subsequent pages, that the Anglo-Saxon race is not the only one whose life has blossomed out into constitutional liberty. Other races have put forth the same forms of life quite as vigorously, and as broadly, and if we are to escape the same disastrous chances as have for three hundred years sunk them into a _life-in-death_, it will be from no inherent superiority in the germs of ours, but because the age of the world is come which corresponds to that period of the life of man, when thought meets feeling, and, recognising each other, instinct may become for evermore one with wisdom.

Is it not possible that this national integrity and international justice and love, is the ultimate attainment of humanity on earth; the fullest realisation in this sphere of the prophetic vision, and the poet’s dream; while the individual men which compose the nations, are ever to exhibit that personal imperfection which is but the necessary correlative of a sublimer destiny than may be within the scope of the finite mind to comprehend? Could this be established, a vast deal of the finest intellect and character, whose energies are now dissipated in visionary theories of personal perfection, would be concentrated to organise a perfect political system, which can only be just for each when it is for all; and without which in each nation, no personal integrity can be unfolded to become the subject of culture.

In considering the crimes of the house of Austria, we must not forget Poland, although here the guilt is shared by the Brandenburgs and Romanoffs.

Ruthière’s, “Anarchie de Pologne” gives, in an entertaining form, a tolerably fair picture of its character, and the working of what an absolutist calls its _no-government_. That a civilized country, he says, should go on for centuries, improving in all human culture, _without a government_, shows the extraordinary goodness of the people. It were well if this pleasant book, which contains also the most authentic account of Catherine II.’s accession to the Russian throne, were translated into English. But a grave work, and the highest authority respecting Poland, is Lelewel’s history, also yet untranslated. We are sorry that our limits allow us to give but a few observations to correct some current errors. It has been the policy of the European governments around Poland, to misrepresent, as well as to interfere with, the operations of its constitution. This necessarily arose from a principle of self-protection; nothing was so disastrous for them, as the peace, prosperity, and progress of a republican country in their midst. All the motives which impelled to the League of Cambray, would operate to this end respecting Poland, whose partition was the supreme act of the diplomacy which, as Sismondi said, began in Europe in 1508.

Poland was never a feudal country. The nobles and peasants are of the same race; and service in war, or a university education availed to give nobility to the child of the meanest peasant. The veto power, by the abuse of which the country was made weak, when it needed to be strongest against foreign influence, was only developed into disastrous action through foreign influence, brought to bear upon the Diet; because, as has been already intimated, it was a life and death interest of the surrounding despotisms to prevent the national progress and purification of a government in their midst, essentially republican, although its chief magistrate was named king. The same veto power existed in the Arragonese constitution, and never seemed to have had any irregular action. Of course, this, or almost any other safety-valve of liberty, may be used for the worst end, as soon as a nation is vitiated by bad faith within, whether of indigenous growth, or of foreign planting. In the case of Poland, it is obvious, from Ruthière, that it was of foreign planting.

But our object is not political disquisition, but history. When the Poles first began to elect kings from foreign nations, it was partly in order that the equality of their own families should be preserved, and some should have the prestige of sovereignty connected with them. At the first election, after the death of the last Jagellon, Maximilian II. endeavoured to obtain the crown for his son Ernest, but Henry of Anjou was chosen. After the latter abandoned Poland, to succeed his brother in France, Maximilian made new efforts for Ernest, and was himself chosen by one party. This was no great gratification to him, for the limited monarchy of Poland had few charms for him. While he hesitated about the _pacta conventa_, his more active opponent, Stephen Batory, hastened into Poland, and signed this capitulation, which so greatly increased his party that he was forcibly chosen, although Maximilian did at length accede to the _pacta conventa_, and, secure of the Czar, appealed to the empire, and endeavoured to excite the kings of Denmark and Sweden against his rival, “whom he stigmatized,” says Coxe, “as a vassal of the Turks.” But death interrupted his operations on the 12th of October, 1576, and Stephen Batory was elected.

The next Polish election, in which the house of Austria interfered, was in the beginning of the eighteenth century, when the Emperor, Charles VI., with the aid of the Czarina, placed Augustus II. upon the throne, on condition of his giving his sanction to the Pragmatic Sanction. By this intrigue, the choice of the nation, Stanislaus Leczynski, was set aside. This was in 1720.

In 1763, on the death of Augustus II., Maria Theresa encouraged his son Xavier to become a candidate for the crown of Poland, in opposition to Stanislaus Poniatowski and other Polish noblemen. Through the powerful influence of Catherine II., Stanislaus was certain of success. But Maria Theresa, seeing that by this a preponderance was given to Russian influence in Poland, published a manifesto, declaring that the Poles had the right of appointing a sovereign by a free and voluntary election, and, with the aid of France, prepared to second the claims of the Saxon house. Catherine, on the other hand, gained the king of Prussia, and the Porte, and they jointly issued a proclamation exhorting, “or rather,” says Coxe, “commanding the Poles to elect none but a Piast for their king.” A Russian army enforced this, and Stanislaus Augustus was elected. Maria Theresa, ill-seconded by France, concluded to push the matter no further.