The Rise of the Dutch Republic, 1566 part 1 | Page 3

that of none
of his contemporaries, a diplomatist in whose tact and delicacy William
of Orange afterwards reposed in the most difficult and important
negotiations, an orator whose discourses on many great public
occasions attracted the attention of Europe, a soldier whose bravery
was to be attested afterwards on many a well-fought field, a theologian
so skilful in the polemics of divinity, that, as it will hereafter appear, he
was more than a match for a bench of bishops upon their own ground,
and a scholar so accomplished, that, besides speaking and writing the
classical and several modern languages with facility, he had also
translated for popular use the Psalms of David into vernacular verse,
and at a very late period of his life was requested by the states-general
of the republic to translate all the Scriptures, a work, the fulfilment of
which was prevented by his death. A passionate foe to the inquisition
and to all the abuses of the ancient Church, an ardent defender of civil
liberty, it must be admitted that he partook also of the tyrannical spirit
of Calvinism. He never rose to the lofty heights to which the spirit of
the great founder of the commonwealth was destined to soar, but
denounced the great principle of religious liberty for all consciences as
godless. He was now twenty-eight years of age, having been born in the
same year with his friend Louis of Nassau. His device, "Repos
ailleurs," finely typified the restless, agitated and laborious life to
which he was destined.
That other distinguished leader of the newly-formed league, Count
Louis, was a true knight of the olden time, the very mirror of chivalry.
Gentle, generous, pious; making use, in his tent before the battle, of the
prayers which his mother sent him from the home of his childhood,
--yet fiery in the field as an ancient crusader--doing the work of general
and soldier with desperate valor and against any numbers-- cheerful
and steadfast under all reverses, witty and jocund in social intercourse,
animating with his unceasing spirits the graver and more foreboding
soul of his brother; he was the man to whom the eyes of the most
ardent among the Netherland Reformers were turned at this early epoch,

the trusty staff upon which the great Prince of Orange was to lean till it
was broken. As gay as Brederode, he was unstained by his vices, and
exercised a boundless influence over that reckless personage, who often
protested that he would "die a poor soldier at his feet." The career of
Louis was destined to be short, if reckoned by years, but if by events, it
was to attain almost a patriarchal length. At the age of nineteen he had
taken part in the battle of St. Quentin, and when once the war of
freedom opened, his sword was never to be sheathed. His days were
filled with life, and when he fell into his bloody but unknown grave, he
was to leave a name as distinguished for heroic valor and untiring
energy as for spotless integrity. He was small of stature, but well
formed; athletic in all knightly exercises, with agreeable features, a
dark laughing eye, close-clipped brown hair, and a peaked beard.
"Golden Fleece," as Nicholas de Hammes was universally denominated,
was the illegitimate scion of a noble house. He was one of the most
active of the early adherents to the league, kept the lists of signers in
his possession, and scoured the country daily to procure new
confederates. At the public preachings of the reformed religion, which
soon after this epoch broke forth throughout the Netherlands as by a
common impulse, he made himself conspicuous. He was accused of
wearing, on such occasions, the ensigns of the Fleece about his neck, in
order to induce ignorant people to believe that they might themselves
legally follow, when they perceived a member of that illustrious
fraternity to be leading the way. As De Hammer was only an official or
servant of that Order, but not a companion, the seduction of the lieges
by such false pretenses was reckoned among the most heinous of his
offences. He was fierce in his hostility to the government, and one of
those fiery spirits whose premature zeal was prejudicial to the cause of
liberty, and disheartening to the cautious patriotism of Orange. He was
for smiting at once the gigantic atrocity of the Spanish dominion,
without waiting for the forging of the weapons by which the blows
were to be dealt. He forgot that men and money were as necessary as
wrath, in a contest with the most tremendous despotism of the world.
"They wish," he wrote to Count Louis, "that we should meet these
hungry wolves with remonstrances, using gentle words, while they are
burning and cutting off