The Rise of the Dutch Republic, 1572 | Page 3

provided
by the Prince with a commission, appointing him Lieutenant-Governor
of North Holland or Waterland. Thus, to combat the authority of Alva
was set up the authority of the King. The stadholderate over Holland
and Zealand, to which the Prince had been appointed in 1559, he now
reassumed. Upon this fiction reposed the whole provisional polity of
the revolted Netherlands. The government, as it gradually unfolded
itself, from this epoch forward until the declaration of independence
and the absolute renunciation of the Spanish sovereign power, will be
sketched in a future chapter. The people at first claimed not an iota
more of freedom than was secured by Philip's coronation oath. There
was no pretence that Philip was not sovereign, but there was a pretence
and a determination to worship God according to conscience, and to
reclaim the ancient political "liberties" of the land. So long as Alva
reigned, the Blood Council, the inquisition, and martial law, were the
only codes or courts, and every charter slept. To recover this practical
liberty and these historical rights, and to shake from their shoulders a
most sanguinary government, was the purpose of William and of the
people. No revolutionary standard was displayed.
The written instructions given by the Prince to his Lieutenant Sonoy
were to "see that the Word of God was preached, without, however,
suffering any hindrance to the Roman Church in the exercise of its
religion; to restore fugitives and the banished for conscience sake, and
to require of all magistrates and officers of guilds and brotherhoods an
oath of fidelity." The Prince likewise prescribed the form of that oath,
repeating therein, to his eternal honor, the same strict prohibition of
intolerance. "Likewise," said the formula, "shall those of 'the religion'
offer no let or hindrance to the Roman churches."
The Prince was still in Germany, engaged in raising troops and
providing funds. He directed; however, the affairs of the insurgent
provinces in their minutest details, by virtue of the dictatorship
inevitably forced upon him both by circumstances and by the people. In
the meantime; Louis of Nassau, the Bayard of the Netherlands,
performed a most unexpected and brilliant exploit. He had been long in

France, negotiating with the leaders of the Huguenots, and, more
secretly, with the court. He was supposed by all the world to be still in
that kingdom, when the startling intelligence arrived that he had
surprised and captured the important city of Mons. This town, the
capital of Hainault, situate in a fertile, undulating, and beautiful country,
protected by lofty walls, a triple moat, and a strong citadel, was one of
the most flourishing and elegant places in the Netherlands. It was,
moreover, from its vicinity to the frontiers of France; a most important
acquisition to the insurgent party. The capture was thus accomplished.
A native of Mons, one Antony Oliver, a geographical painter, had
insinuated himself into the confidence of Alva, for whom he had
prepared at different times some remarkably well- executed maps of the
country. Having occasion to visit France, he was employed by the
Duke to keep a watch upon the movements of Louis of Nassau, and to
make a report as to the progress of his intrigues with the court of
France. The painter, however, was only a spy in disguise, being in
reality devoted to the cause of freedom, and a correspondent of Orange
and his family. His communications with Louis, in Paris, had therefore
a far different result from the one anticipated by Alva. A large number
of adherents within the city of Mons had already been secured, and a
plan was now arranged between Count Louis, Genlis, De la Noue, and
other distinguished Huguenot chiefs, to be carried out with the
assistance of the brave and energetic artist.
On the 23rd of May, Oliver appeared at the gates of Mons,
accompanied by three wagons, ostensibly containing merchandise, but
in reality laden with arquebusses. These were secretly distributed
among his confederates in the city. In the course of the day Count
Louis arrived in the neighbourhood, accompanied by five hundred
horsemen and a thousand foot soldiers. This force he stationed in close
concealment within the thick forests between Maubeuge and Mons.
Towards evening he sent twelve of the most trusty and daring of his
followers, disguised as wine merchants, into the city. These individuals
proceeded boldly to a public house, ordered their supper, and while
conversing with the landlord, carelessly inquired at what hour next
morning the city gates would be opened. They were informed that the
usual hour was four in the morning, but that a trifling present to the
porter would ensure admission, if they desired it, at an earlier hour.

They explained their inquiries by a statement that they had some casks
of wine which they wished to