By Pike and Dyke: a Tale of the Rise of the Dutch Republic

Born of a distinguished family, William of Orange had been brought up by a pious mother, and at the age of twelve had become a page in the family of the Emperor Charles. So great was the boy's ability, that at fifteen he had become the intimate and almost confidential friend of the emperor, who was a keen judge of merit.

Before he reached the age of twenty-one he was named commander in chief of the army on the French frontier. When the Emperor Charles resigned, the prince was appointed by Philip to negotiate a treaty with France, and had conducted these negotiations with extreme ability. The prince and the Duke of Alva remained in France as hostages for the execution of the treaty. Alva was secretly engaged in arranging an agreement between Philip and Henry for the extirpation of Protestantism, and the general destruction of all those who held that faith. The French king, believing that the Prince of Orange was also in the secret, spoke to him one day when out hunting freely on the subject, and gave him all the details of the understanding that had been entered into for a general massacre of the Protestants throughout the dominions of France and Spain.

The Prince of Orange neither by word or look indicated that all this was new to him, and the king remained in ignorance of how completely he had betrayed the plans of himself and Philip. It was his presence of mind and reticence, while listening to this astounding relation, that gained for the Prince of Orange the title of William the Silent. Horror struck at the plot he had discovered, the prince from that moment threw himself into the cause of the Protestants of the Netherlands, and speedily became the head of the movement, devoting his whole property and his life to the object. So far it had brought him only trials and troubles.

His estate and that of his brothers had been spent in the service; he had incurred enormous debts; the armies of German mercenaries he had raised had met with defeat and ruin; the people of the Netherlands, crushed down with the apathy of despair, had not lifted a finger to assist the forces that had marched to their aid. It was only when, almost by an accident, Brill had been captured by the sea beggars, that the spark he had for so many years been trying to fan, burst into flame in the provinces of Holland and Zeeland.

The prince had been sustained through his long and hitherto fruitless struggle by a deep sense of religion. He believed that God was with him, and would eventually save the people of the Netherlands from the fate to which Philip had doomed them. And yet though an ardent Protestant, and in an age when Protestants were well nigh as bigoted as Catholics, and when the idea of religious freedom had scarce entered into the minds of men, the prince was perfectly tolerant, and from the first insisted that in all the provinces over which he exercised authority, the same perfect freedom of worship should be granted to the Catholics that he claimed for the Protestants in the Catholic states of the Netherlands.

He had not always been a Protestant. When appointed by Philip stadtholder of Holland, Friesland, and Utrecht he had been a moderate Catholic. But his thoughts were but little turned to religious subjects, and it was as a patriot and a man of humane nature that he had been shocked at the discovery that he had made, of the determination of the kings of France and Spain to extirpate the Protestants. He used this knowledge first to secretly urge the people of the Netherlands to agitate for the removal of the Spanish troops from the country; and although he had secret instructions from Philip to enforce the edicts against all heretics with vigour, he avoided doing so as much as was in his power, and sent private warnings to many whom he knew to be in danger of arrest.

As Governor of the Netherlands at the age of twenty-six, he was rich, powerful, and of sovereign rank. He exercised a splendid hospitality, and was universally beloved by the whole community for the charm of his manner and his courtesy to people of all ranks. Even at this period the property which he had inherited from his father, and that he had received with his first wife, Anne of Egmont, the richest heiress of the Netherlands, had been seriously affected by his open handed hospitality and lavish expenditure. His intellect was acknowledged to be of the highest class. He had extraordinary adroitness and capacity for conducting state affairs. His knowledge of human nature was profound. He had studied deeply, and spoke and wrote with facility Latin, French, German, Flemish, and Spanish.

The epithet Silent was in no way applicable to his general character. He could be silent when speech was dangerous, but at other times he was a most cheerful and charming companion, and in public the most eloquent orator and the most brilliant controversialist of his age. Thirteen years had passed since then, thirteen years spent in incessant troubles and struggles. The brilliant governor of Philip in the Netherlands had for years been an exile; the careless Catholic had become an earnest and sincere Protestant; the wealthy noble had been harassed with the pecuniary burdens he had undertaken in order to raise troops for the rescue of his countrymen.

He had seen his armies defeated, his plans overthrown, his countrymen massacred by tens of thousands, his co-religionists burnt, hung, and tortured, and it was only now that the spirit of resistance was awakening among his countrymen. But misfortune and trial had not soured his temper; his faith that sooner or later the cause would triumph had never wavered. His patience was inexhaustible, his temper beyond proof. The incapacity of many in whom he had trusted, the jealousies and religious differences which prevented anything like union between the various states, the narrowness and jealousy even of those most faithful to the cause, would have driven most men to despair.

Upon his shoulders alone rested the whole weight of the struggle. It was for him to plan and carry out, to negotiate with princes, to organize troops, to raise money, to compose jealousies, to rouse the lukewarm and appeal to the waverers. Every detail, great and small, had to be elaborated by him. So far it was not the Netherlands, it was William of Orange alone who opposed himself to the might of the greatest power in Europe.

Such was the prince to whom Ned Martin was now introduced, and it was with a sense of the deepest reverence that he entered the chamber. He saw before him a man looking ten years older than he really was; whose hair was grizzled and thin from thought and care, whose narrow face was deeply marked by the lines of anxiety and trouble, but whose smile was as kindly, whose manner as kind and gracious as that which had distinguished it when William was the brilliant young stadtholder of the Emperor Philip.

CHAPTER VII

A DANGEROUS MISSION

"I hear you have a letter for me from my good friend the burgomaster of Enkhuizen," the Prince of Orange said, as Ned with a deep reverence approached the table at which he was sitting. "He sends me no ill news, I hope?"

"No, your excellency," Ned said. "It is on a matter personal to myself that he has been good enough to write to you, and I crave your pardon beforehand for occupying your time for a moment with so unimportant a subject."

The prince glanced at him keenly as he was speaking, and saw that the young fellow before him was using no mere form of words, but that he really felt embarrassed at the thought that he was intruding upon his labours. He opened the letter and glanced down it.

"Ah! you are English," he said in surprise. "I thought you a countryman of mine."

"My mother is from Holland, sir," Ned replied; "and has brought me up to speak her language as well as my father's, and to feel that Holland is my country as much as England."

"And you are the son of the English captain who, lately, as I heard, being stopped in his passage down the Zuider Zee by the Spanish ship Don Pedro, defended himself so stoutly that he inflicted great loss and damage upon the Spaniard, and brought his ship into Enkhuizen without further damage than a grievous wound to himself. The burgomaster tells me that you are anxious to enter my service as a volunteer, and that you have the permission of your parents to do so.

"Many of your brave compatriots are already coming over; and I am glad indeed of their aid, which I regard as an omen that England will some day bestir herself on our behalf. But you look young for such rough work, young sir. I should not take you for more than eighteen."

"I am not yet eighteen, sir," Ned said, although he did not think it necessary to mention that he still wanted two years to that age. "But even children and women have aided in the defence of their towns."

"It is somewhat strange," the prince said, "that your parents should have countenanced your thus embarking in this matter at so young an age."

"The Spaniards have murdered my grandfather, three of my uncles, and an aunt; and my father would, had it not been that he is disabled by the wound he received, and which has cost him the loss of a leg, have himself volunteered," Ned replied. "But, sir, if you think me too young as yet to fight in the ranks, my father thought that you might perhaps make use of me in other ways. I have sailed up every river in the Netherlands, having been for the last five years in my father's ship trading with these ports, and know their navigation and the depth of water. If you have letters that you want carried to your friends in Flanders, and would intrust them to me, I would deliver them faithfully for you whatever the risk; and being but a boy, could pass perhaps where a man would be suspected. I only ask, sir, to be put to such use as you can make of me, whatever it may be, deeming my life but of slight account in so great and good a cause."

"No man can offer more," the prince said kindly. "I like your face, young sir, and can see at once that you can be trusted, and that you have entered upon this matter in a serious spirit. Your father has proved himself to be a brave fighter and a skilful sailor, and I doubt not that you are worthy of him. Your youth is no drawback in my eyes, seeing that I myself, long before I reached your age, was mixed up in state affairs, and that the Emperor Charles, my master, did not disdain to listen to my opinions. I accept your offer of service in the name of the Netherlands; and deeming that, as you say, you may be of more service in the way of which you have spoken than were I to attach you to one of the regiments I am raising, I will for the present appoint you as a volunteer attached to my own household, and, trust me, I will not keep you long in idleness."

He touched a bell and the page entered. "Take this gentleman," he said, "to Count Nieuwenar, and tell him that he is to have rank as a gentleman volunteer, and will at present remain as a member of my household, and be treated as such."

With a kindly nod he dismissed Ned, who was so affected by the kindness of manner of the prince that he could only murmur a word or two of thanks and assurance of devotion. One of the burgomaster's letters, of which Ned was the bearer, was to Count Nieuwenar, the prince's chamberlain, and when the page introduced him to that officer with the message the prince had given him, Ned handed to him the burgomaster's letter. The count ran his eye down it.

"My friend the burgomaster speaks highly in your praise, young sir," he said; "and although it needed not that since the prince himself has been pleased to appoint you to his household, yet I am glad to receive so good a report of you. All Holland and Zeeland have been talking of the gallant fight that your father's ship made against the Spaniard; and though I hear that the Queen of England has made remonstrances to the Spanish Ambassador as to this attack upon an English ship, methinks that it is the Spaniards who suffered most in the affair."

"Would you kindly instruct me, sir, in the duties that I have to perform."

"There are no duties whatever," the count said with a smile. "There is no state or ceremony here. The prince lives like a private citizen, and all that you have to do is to behave discreetly, to present yourself at the hours of meals, and to be in readiness to perform any service with which the prince may intrust you; although for what service he destines you, I own that I am in ignorance. But," he said more gravely, "the prince is not a man to cumber himself with persons who are useless to him, nor to keep about his person any save those upon whose fidelity he is convinced that he can rely. Therefore I doubt not that he will find work for you to do, for indeed there is but little ease and quiet for those who serve him. This afternoon I will find for you an apartment, and I may tell you that although you will have at present no duties to perform, and need not therefore keep in close attendance, it were better that you should never be very long absent; for when the prince wants a thing done he wants it done speedily, and values most those upon whom he can rely at all times of the night and day. Return here at noon, and I will then present you to the gentlemen and officers with whom you will associate."

On leaving the chamberlain Ned walked for some time through the streets of Rotterdam. He scarcely noticed where he went, so full were his thoughts of the reception that he had met with, and the more than realization of his hopes. The charm of manner, as well as the real kindness of the prince, had completely captivated him, as indeed they did all who came in contact with him, and he felt that no dangers he could run, no efforts he could make would be too great if he could but win the approbation of so kind a master. He presented himself to the chamberlain at the hour named, and the latter took him to a large hall in which many officers and gentlemen were about to sit down to dinner, and introduced Ned to them as the son of the English captain who had so bravely beaten off the Don Pedro, and whom the Prince of Orange had received into his household in the quality of a gentleman volunteer.

Ned was well received, both on his own account and from the goodwill that was entertained towards England. Although personally the Prince of Orange kept up no state and lived most simply and quietly, he still maintained an extensive household, and extended a generous hospitality more suited to his past wealth than to his present necessities. He had the habits of a great noble; and although pressed on all sides for money, and sometimes driven to make what he considered great economies in his establishment, his house was always open to his friends and adherents.

Certainly in the meal to which he sat down Ned saw little signs of economy. There was but little silver plate on the table, for the prince's jewels and plate had been pledged years before for the payment of the German mercenaries; but there was an abundance of food of all kinds, generous wine in profusion, and the guests were served by numerous pages and attendants.

On the following day the prince rode to Haarlem accompanied by his household and a hundred horsemen, for at Haarlem he had summoned a meeting of the representatives of the states that still remained faithful to him. As soon as they were settled in the quarters assigned to them Ned sallied out to make inquiries concerning the relatives with whom his aunt and cousins had taken refuge. As he knew her maiden name he had no great difficulty in learning the part of the town in which her father dwelt, and knowing that the prince would at any rate for the rest of the day be wholly absorbed in important business, made his way thither, introducing himself to the burgher.

"Ah!" the latter said, "I have often heard my daughter speak of her sister-in-law who had married and settled in England. So you are her son? Well, you will find her house in the street that runs along by the city wall, near the Watergate. It was well that she happened to be laid up with illness at the time Alva's ruffians seized and murdered her husband and his family. She was well nigh distraught for a time, and well she might be; though, indeed, her lot is but that of tens of thousands of others in this unhappy country. I would gladly have welcomed her here, but I have another married daughter who lives with me and keeps my house for me, and as she has half a dozen children the house is well nigh full. And Elizabeth longed for quiet in her sorrow, so I established her in the little house I tell you of. I have been going to write to your father, but have put it off from time to time, for one has so much to think of in these days that one has no time for private matters. She tells me that her husband and his brothers had, foreseeing the evil times coming, sent money to England to his care, and that it has been invested in houses in London."

"I believe that is so," Ned replied; "and my father, who is at present lying sorely wounded at Enkhuizen, will, I am sure, now that he knows where my aunt is, communicate with her by letter on the subject. I will give you his address at Enkhuizen, and as it is but a short journey from here you might perhaps find time to go over and see him, when he will be able to talk freely with you on the subject. Now, with your permission I will go and see my aunt."

Ned had no difficulty in finding the house indicated. He knocked at the door, and it was opened by his aunt herself. She looked up for a moment inquiringly, and then exclaimed:

"Why, it is my nephew, Edward Martin! It is nearly two years since I saw you last, and so much has happened since;" and she burst into tears.

Ned followed her into the house, where he was warmly welcomed by his two cousins–girls of fourteen and fifteen years old. He had first to explain how it was that he had come to Haarlem, and they were grieved indeed to hear what had happened to Captain Martin, who was a great favourite with them.

"And so you have entered the service of the Prince of Orange?" his aunt said when he had finished his story. "Truly I wonder that your father and mother have allowed you to embark in so hopeless an enterprise."

"Not hopeless," Ned said. "Things look dark at present, but either England or France may come to our help. At any rate, aunt, if the Spanish army again sweeps over Holland and Zeeland surely you, with two girls, will not await its approach. You have friends in England. My father and mother will be only too glad to have you with them till you can make yourself a home close by. And there are the moneys sent over that will enable you to live in comfort. It will not be like going among strangers. There is quite a colony of emigrants from the Netherlands already in London. You will find plenty who can speak your language."

"All my family are here," she replied; "my father, and brothers, and sisters. I could never be happy elsewhere."

"Yes, aunt, I can understand that. But if the Spaniards come, how many of your family may be alive here a week afterwards?"

The woman threw up her hands in a gesture of despair.

"Well, we must hope for the best, aunt; but I would urge you most strongly if you hear that a Spanish army is approaching to fly to England if there be an opportunity open to you, or if not to leave the city and go to some town or village as far from here as possible."

"Haarlem is strong, and can stand a stout siege," the woman said confidently.

"I have no doubt it can, aunt. But the Spaniards are good engineers, and unless the Prince of Orange is strong enough to march to its succour, sooner or later it must fall; and you know what happens then."

"Why should they come here more than elsewhere? There are many other towns that lie nearer to them."

"That is so, aunt. But from the walls you can see the towers and spires of Amsterdam, and that city serves them as a gathering place in the heart of the country whence they may strike blows all round; and, therefore, as you lie so close, one of the first blows may be struck here. Besides, if they take Haarlem, they cut the long strip of land that almost alone remains faithful to the prince asunder. Well, aunt, please think it over. If you doubt my words write to my mother at Enkhuizen. I warrant she will tell you how gladly she will receive you in England, and how well you may make yourself a home there. I do not know how long I am to be staying here, and I have to be in close attendance on the prince in case he may suddenly have occasion for my services, but I will come down every day for a talk with you; and I do hope that for the sake of my cousins, if not for your own, you will decide to leave this troubled land for a time, and to take refuge in England, where none will interfere with your religion, and where you can live free from the Spaniard's cruel bigotry."

Ned remained for a fortnight without any particular duties. When the prince was closeted with persons of importance, and he knew that there was no chance of his being required, he spent much of his time at his aunt's. He was beginning to feel weary of hanging about the prince's antechamber doing nothing, when one day a page came up to him and told him that the prince required his presence. He followed the boy to the prince's cabinet, full of hope that he was to have an opportunity of proving that he was in earnest in his offers of service to the cause of Holland.

"I daresay you began to think that I had forgotten you," the prince began when the page had retired and the curtain had fallen behind him, "but it is not so. Until today I have had no occasion for your services, but have now a mission to intrust to you. I have letters that I wish carried to Brussels and delivered to some of my friends there. You had best start at once in the disguise of a peasant boy. You must sew up your despatches in your jerkin, and remember that if they are found upon you a cruel death will surely be your fate. If you safely carry out your mission in Brussels return with the answers you will receive by such route as may seem best to you; for this must depend upon the movements of the Spaniards. The chamberlain will furnish you with what money you may require."

"Thanks, your excellency, I am provided with sufficient means for such a journey."

"I need not tell you, my lad, to be careful and prudent. Remember, not only is your own life at stake, but that the interest of the country will suffer, and the lives of many will be forfeited should you fail in your mission. You will see that there are no names upon these letters; only a small private mark, differing in each case, by which you can distinguish them. Here is a paper which is a key to those marks. You must, before you start, learn by heart the names of those for whom the various letters are intended. In this way, should the letters fall into the hands of the Spaniards, they will have no clue as to the names of those to whom they are addressed.

"This paper, on which is written 'To the Blue Cap in the South Corner of the Market Square of Brussels,' is intended to inclose all the other letters, and when you have learned the marks Count Nieuwenar will fasten them up in it and seal it with my seal. The object of doing this is, that should you be captured, you can state that your instructions from me are to deliver the packet to a man with a blue cap, who will meet you at the south corner of the Market Square at Brussels, and, touching you on the shoulder, ask 'How blows the wind in Holland?' These are the instructions I now give you. If such a man comes to you you will deliver the packet to him, if not you will open it and deliver the letters. But this last does not form part of your instructions.

"This device will not save your life if you are taken, but it may save you from torture and others from death. For were these unaddressed letters found upon you, you would be put to such cruel tortures that flesh and blood could not withstand them, and the names of those for whom these letters are intended would be wrung from you; but inclosed as they are to Master Blue Cap, it may be believed that you are merely a messenger whose instructions extend no further than the handing over the parcel to a friend of mine in Brussels. Now, you have no time to lose. You have your disguise to get, and these signs and the names they represent to commit to heart. A horse will be ready in two hours time to take you to Rotterdam, whence you will proceed in a coasting vessel to Sluys or Axel."

At the time named Ned was in readiness. He was dressed now as a young Flemish peasant. He had left the chest with his clothes, together with his armour and weapons, in the care of his aunt's father, for he hoped that before his return she would have left the town. He could not, however, obtain any promise that she would do so. Her argument was, if other women could stay in Haarlem why should she not do the same. Her friends and family were there; and although, if the Spaniards were to besiege the town, she might decide to quit it, she could not bring herself to go into exile, unless indeed all Holland was conquered and all hope gone.