The Rise of the Dutch Republic, 1577 part 2 | Page 7

were the wages of murder at
that day in Spain; gold chains, silver cups, doubloons, annuities, and
commissions in the army! The reward of fidelity, as in poor Escovedo's
case, was oftener the stiletto. Was it astonishing that murder was more
common than fidelity?
With the subsequent career of Antonio Perez--his famous process, his
banishment, his intrigues, his innuendos, his long exile, and his
miserable death, this history has no concern. We return from our brief
digression.
Before narrating the issue of the plot against Antwerp citadel, it is
necessary to recur for a moment to the Prince of Orange. In the deeds
and the written words of that one man are comprised nearly all the
history of the Reformation in the Netherlands--nearly the whole
progress of the infant Republic. The rest, during this period, is made up
of the plottings and counter-plottings, the mutual wranglings and
recriminations of Don John and the estates.
In the brief breathing-space now afforded them, the inhabitants of
Holland and Zealand had been employing themselves in the extensive
repairs of their vast system of dykes. These barriers, which protected

their country against the ocean, but which their own hands had
destroyed to preserve themselves against tyranny, were now thoroughly
reconstructed, at a great expense, the Prince everywhere encouraging
the people with his presence, directing them by his experience,
inspiring them with his energy. The task accomplished was stupendous
and worthy, says a contemporary, of eternal memory.
At the popular request, the Prince afterwards made a tour through the
little provinces, honoring every city with a brief visit. The spontaneous
homage which went up to him from every heart was pathetic and
simple. There were no triumphal arches, no martial music, no banners,
no theatrical pageantry nothing but the choral anthem from thousands
of grateful hearts. "Father William has come! Father William has
come!" cried men, women, and children to each other, when the news
of his arrival in town or village was announced. He was a patriarch
visiting his children, not a conqueror, nor a vulgar potentate displaying
himself to his admirers. Happy were they who heard his voice, happier
they who touched his hands, for his words were full of tenderness, his
hand was offered to all. There were none so humble as to be forbidden
to approach him, none so ignorant as not to know his deeds. All knew
that to combat in their cause he had descended from princely station,
from luxurious ease, to the position of a proscribed and almost
beggared outlaw. For them he had impoverished himself and his family,
mortgaged his estates, stripped himself of jewels, furniture, almost of
food and raiment. Through his exertions the Spaniards had been
banished from their little territory, the Inquisition crushed within their
borders, nearly all the sister provinces but yesterday banded into a
common cause.
He found time, notwithstanding congratulating crowds who thronged
his footsteps, to direct the labors of the states-general, who still looked
more than ever to his guidance, as their relations with Don John
became more complicated and unsatisfactory. In a letter addressed to
them, on the 20th of June from Harlem, he warned them most
eloquently to hold to the Ghent Pacification as to their anchor in the
storm. He assured them, if it was, torn from them, that their destruction
was inevitable. He reminded them that hitherto they had got but the
shadow, not the substance of the Treaty; that they had been robbed of
that which was to have been its chief fruit--union among themselves.

He and his brothers, with their labor, their wealth, and their blood, had
laid down the bridge over which the country had stepped to the
Pacification of Ghent. It was for the nation to maintain what had been
so painfully won; yet he proclaimed to them that the government were
not acting in good faith, that secret, preparations were making to
annihilate the authority of the states; to restore the edicts, to put
strangers into high places, and to set up again the scaffold and the
whole machinery of persecution.
In consequence of the seizure of Namur Castle, and the accusations
made by Don John against Orange, in order to justify that act, the
Prince had already despatched Taffin and Saint Aldegonde to the
states-general with a commission to declare his sentiments upon the
subject. He addressed, moreover, to the same body a letter full of
sincere and simple eloquence. "The Seigneur Don John," said he, has
accused me of violating the peace, and of countenancing attempts
against his life, and in endeavouring to persuade you into joining him
in a declaration of war against me and against Holland and Zealand; but
I pray you, most affectionately, to remember our mutual and solemn
obligations to maintain the treaty of Ghent." He entreated