The Story of Nations - Holland/Chapter 13
It was no doubt unfortunate for the Dutch Republic, that Orange declined so persistently the sovereignty which the United Provinces pressed on him. Had he taken what they offered, the Dutch Republic would, in all likelihood, have comprised the whole of the Netherlands, except the Walloon Provinces, and would have held the whole seaboard from the mouth of the Ems to Dunkirk. William might have controlled the violence of the Ghent democracy, the intrigues of the Flemish nobles, and the religious reaction which finally made Belgium so intensely Roman Catholic. He might even have baffled the ready genius of Parma, and have extended the military reputation of his country by land as well as by sea. There is no doubt that the refusal of Orange was partly due to a desire of avoiding even the appearance of self-seeking, but it was also due to a belief that the defeat of Philip's tyranny could only be finally effected by the assistance of foreign Powers, France or England, or both. He did not suspect, perhaps no one suspected, what were the inherent resources of the young republic. In the meanwhile, and till the negotiations with Anjou could be completed, the influence of William was great in the United Provinces.
William believed that the wretched king of France would ful fulfil the promises which he abundantly made of helping his brother in case the United Provinces elected him as their prince. It was known that Catherine of Medici, the old Queen-mother, was eager that her youngest son should receive the sovereignty of the Netherlands, and it was quite understood that the policy of the Queen-mother was the policy of France. But the courtiers, the mignons, as they were called, of the king had been made familiar with Spanish gold, for Philip, who starved his armies, was lavish in bribes to partisans. Perhaps no king spent so much in bribery with such poor results in the end.
This was the time in which Anjou was engaged in that strange courtship of Elizabeth which caused so much amusement and excited so much anger and alarm. While the United Provinces were discussing the terms of his sovereignty, he was in England. While he was absent, Parma besieged and reduced Tournay, the Prince of Orange, being most inadequately supported by those whose liberties he was doing his best to protect. The fact is, the disunion of the Provinces led to their being attacked and reduced in detail. Anjou returned to Flushing on February 10, 1582, and was inaugurated at Antwerp. He was accompanied by a train of distinguished Englishmen - Leicester, Sir Philip Sidney, with many others - who were to assist hereafter in the foundation and strengthening of the Dutch Republic.
And now the first effects of the ban, the outlawry of William, were to be exhibited. On Sunday, March 18, 1582, Orange was entertaining some of his kindred at dinner, as it was the birthday of the Duke of Anjou. As he was leaving the room, a young man advanced from among the servants and offered him a petition. He took it, and the man suddenly drew a pistol and discharged it close to the Prince's head. The bullet passed under his right ear, through his mouth, and the other jaw. He believed, as did those about him, that he was mortally wounded.
The assassin was instantly slain. William was led into his chamber, and the wound examined by the surgeons. It seemed dangerous, but the flame from the pistol had been so close that it had actually cauterised the wound. He was instructed to be silent, and, though he complied, he wrote incessantly.
Meanwhile, a horrible suspicion came over the minds of the Flemings. It was believed that the Prince was dead, and had been murdered at the instigation of Anjou. People remembered the massacre of St. Bartholomew, hardly ten years ago, and the treacherous murder of the bravest and noblest Frenchmen under the guise of friendship and cordiality. But the suspicion was soon allayed. Maurice, the Prince's son, destined hereafter to rival Parma as a general, remained by the body of the murderer, A search was made, and every article found on the assassin's person was carefully secured. On examination, it was found that all the papers were in Spanish, and that, therefore, there was no evidence of a French conspiracy. The fact was soon communicated, and the relief was great. There had been so much treachery astir that any one might be suspected.
The murderer's pocket contained a dagger. The discharge of the pistol had blown off his thumb, or he probably would have used it. There was a quantity of trumpery charms besides, some religious manuals, a pocket-book containing two Spanish bills of exchange - one for 2,000 and the other for 877 crowns - and a set of writing tablets covered with prayers and vows. The writer invoked the Virgin Mary, the Angel Gabriel, the Saviour, and the Saviour's Son, praying them to aid him in the accomplishment of the deed. He promised to bribe them all with presents at their shrines if he got off safely. It seems, also, that his instigators had persuaded him that after the deed was done he would become invisible.
It was soon found out that the man was Juan Jaureguy, a Spanish servant in the employ of Anastro, a Spanish merchant in Antwerp. Anastro had flown - gone to Calais, it was said; but his cashier, Vencro, and a friar, Antony Zimmermann, were arrested. Anastro was on the verge of bankruptcy, and had entered into an engagement with Philip to murder Orange, and to receive 80,000 ducats and the Cross of Santiago for the crime. But he was too prudent to undertake the deed in person. He therefore hired Jaureguy with the sum alluded to. He had then fled to Dunkirk, obtained a passport on the plea of having important letters from the States admiral, and, before the news came, had got safely into Parma's lines. The bargain made with Philip was signed with the king's hand and sealed with his seal. Venero and Zimmermann confessed their crime, were tried, and executed - by the Prince's request in the least painful manner - ten days after the event.
But the Prince gradually recovered. On the 5th of April, however, there was an alarming hemorrhage from the wound, and it seemed that all hope was lost. But Anjou's physician arrested the flow of blood by simple pressure, a number of attendants, one after the other, keeping their thumbs on the wound day and night. The wound was closed, and on May 2nd Orange went to offer his thanksgiving in the great Cathedral of Antwerp. Unhappily for him, the terror and anxiety were too much for his wife, Charlotte of Bourbon, who died on May 5th, three days after the thanksgiving. She had been forced into a convent against her will, had escaped, and, disowned by her relatives, had married Orange.
Parma, getting news of the attempt from Anastro, and being assured that the Prince was killed, addressed circular letters to the revolted cities, calling on them, now that the tyrant was dead, to return to their allegiance, to the forgiving Philip, and to the holy Inquisition. It is doubtful whether they would have done so without a struggle even if the deed had been successful. As it was, Parma's invitation only made them more resolute. Holland and Zeland now urged that Orange should accept the sovereignty over these provinces without limitation of time. He agreed to do so, but the formal inauguration did not take place. William was in his grave before all the preliminaries were settled.
As the United Provinces had accepted Anjou for their duke in place of Philip, Parma persuaded the Walloon Provinces that the condition under which the foreign soldiers had been sent away was now removed, and began to move up masses of Spanish and Italian troops. He was not indeed inactive, for he captured two or three important towns, but he waited till he found himself, at the close of the year, at the head of 60,000 picked and trained soldiers. In July, another attempt, also at the instigation of Parma, was made to assassinate both Anjou and Orange by poison. The culprits were detected and duly punished. The younger son of the great Egmont was gravely suspected of being an accomplice. Less than two years before, Orange had befriended him and supplied him with money.
The good understanding between Anjou and Orange remained till after January 15th, when the duke, in contravention of his oaths, attempted to overset the Constitution and seize the Flemish towns. The plot was kept a secret, but the French commanders got hold simultaneously of Dunkirk, Ostend, and other important places. But they were discomfited at Brugges. The attempt was made at Antwerp on the 17th, but the burghers rose, defeated the French troops, and slew 1,500 of them. Anjou escaped. The attempt was known henceforth as the French Fury. Still, Orange was so haunted with the idea that it was needful to propitiate the French, that he did not at once break with Anjou, and, to be sure, the effrontery of the French prince was equal to any emergency. What really determined him was the discovery that Anjou was willing to sell his position to Parma, and to restore Philip's reign over the United Provinces. Then he told them that there were only three courses open to them - to surrender to Philip and lose everything; to invite Anjou to return to his government; and to fight the thing out with all their means and with all their lives. He preferred the last course, but, unfortunately, he had learned too well that, except in Holland and Zeland, a Netherlands union was only a rope of sand.
In June, 1583, the Duke of Anjou went away, never to return. John Casimir went away also. Matthias, grand duke and pretender, had already gone. There was no one left to make head against Spain but Orange. He married, for the fourth time, Louisa de Coligny. The son of this marriage was Frederic Henry, the successor of Maurice in the Dutch sovereignty, and one of the most distinguished among the succession, unparalleled among nations of illustrious chief citizens of Holland. They were William the Silent, Maurice, Frederic Henry, William the Second, the Third (the English king), and the Fourth. Again the states of the United Provinces offered William the sovereignty, and again he refused it. So he refused the Duchy of Brabant. Meanwhile, Parma was picking up the towns which Anjou had treacherously seized and treasonably deserted. Orange, too, had to endure the treason of his brother-in-law, Van der Berg. Still, up to the end, he believed it possible to make use of Anjou, who, however, died on June 10, 1584.
Since the outlawry of Orange had been proclaimed, five attempts had been made on his life, with the connivance of Philip, or Parma, or both. A sixth was successful. William, was residing at Delft, a little town near Rotterdam, in the summer. His youngest child had been just baptized, and had taken the names of his godfathers, Frederic of Denmark and Henry of Navarre. Here William heard of the death of Anjou.
Despatches bearing on the particulars of Anjou's death had been received by William on July 8th. He demanded an interview with the courier, and a young man, about 27 years old, was introduced. He was said to be the son of a murdered Calvinist, and to be ardently attached to his father's creed. In reality, he was a fanatical Catholic, who had meditated the murder of Orange for seven years or more, had consulted several Jesuits on the best means of effecting his purpose, had forged seals in order to procure credit with his victim, and had been in close communication with Parma. Parma had no high opinion of him, but gave him the usual promise of reward in case he succeeded. His parents were enriched and ennobled by Philip after the deed was done, and the pension they received was secured upon the estate of William the Silent's eldest son.
The man's real name was Balthasar Gérard. He called himself Francis Guion. It appears that he was conscientious in his conviction that Orange was to be murdered, and that any one who murdered him was serving God and man. The only thing which touched his conscience was the fact that he had forged seals in order to get access to his victim. He was, however, careful to bargain for his reward to himself if he escaped, to his heirs if he fell in the attempt. So suspicious had Parma been of his powers that he left him almost penniless, and Gérard was indebted to William's kindness for the very money which purchased the pistols with which he murdered his benefactor.
At two o'clock on Tuesday, July 12, 1584, Gérard shot William the Silent. In a few minutes all was over. The murderer in the confusion nearly escaped, and had he not stumbled, when close to the moat, on the other side of which a horse was waiting for him, he might have got away. He was caught, brought back, confessed his crime, and gloried in it. Only he concealed Parma's share in the conspiracy. That great captain, however, who had dealt in such matters so often, was rightly understood to be the principal agent in the crime. Gérard was tortured horribly, but bore his sufferings with fortitude and serenity. Had William lived a few days, he would have been simply executed. After two days' torment he was put to death on July 14th.