Books: The Rise of the Dutch Republic, 1560 61
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John Lothrop Motley >> The Rise of the Dutch Republic, 1560 61
There were difficulties on both sides to be arranged before this marriage
could take place. The bride was a Lutheran, the Prince was a Catholic.
With regard to the religion of Orange not the slightest doubt existed,
nor was any deception attempted. Granvelle himself gave the most entire
attestation of the Prince's orthodoxy. "This proposed marriage gives me
great pain," he wrote to Philip, "but I have never had reason to suspect
his principles." In another letter he observed that he wished the
marriage could be broken off; but that he hoped so much from the virtue
of the Prince that nothing could suffice to separate him from the true
religion. On the other side there was as little doubt as to his creed.
Old Landgrave Philip of Hesse, grandfather of the young lady, was
bitterly opposed to the match. "'Tis a papist," said he, "who goes to
mass, and eats no meat on fast days." He had no great objection to his
character, but insurmountable ones to his religion. "Old Count William,"
said he, "was an evangelical lord to his dying day. This man is a
papist!" The marriage, then, was to be a mixed marriage. It is
necessary, however, to beware of anachronisms upon the subject.
Lutherans were not yet formally denounced as heretics. On the contrary,
it was exactly at this epoch that the Pope was inviting the Protestant
princes of Germany to the Trent Council, where the schism was to be
closed, and all the erring lambs to be received again into the bosom of
the fold. So far from manifesting an outward hostility, the papal
demeanor was conciliating. The letters of invitation from the Pope to
the princes were sent by a legate, each commencing with the exordium,"
To my beloved son," and were all sent back to his Holiness,
contemptuously, with the coarse jest for answer, "We believe our mothers
to have been honest women, and hope that we had better fathers." The
great council had not yet given its decisions. Marriages were of
continual occurrence, especially among princes and potentates, between
the adherents of Rome and of the new religion. Even Philip had been most
anxious to marry the Protestant Elizabeth, whom, had she been a peasant,
he would unquestionably have burned, if in his power. Throughout
Germany, also, especially in high places, there was a disposition to
cover up the religious controversy; to abstain from disturbing the ashes
where devastation still glowed, and was one day to rekindle itself. It
was exceedingly difficult for any man, from the Archduke Maximilian down,
to define his creed. A marriage, therefore; between a man and woman of
discordant views upon this topic was not startling, although in general
not considered desirable.
There were, however, especial reasons why this alliance should be
distasteful, both to Philip of Spain upon one side, and to the Landgrave
Philip of Hesse on the other. The bride was the daughter of the elector
Maurice. In that one name were concentrated nearly all the disasters,
disgrace, and disappointment of the Emperor's reign. It was Maurice who
had hunted the Emperor through the Tyrolean mountains; it was Maurice who
had compelled the peace of Passau; it was Maurice who had overthrown the
Catholic Church in Germany, it was Maurice who had frustrated Philip's
election as king of the Romans. If William of Orange must seek a wife
among the pagans, could no other bride be found for him than the daughter
of such a man?
Anna's grandfather, on the other hand, Landgrave Philip, was the
celebrated victim to the force and fraud of Charles the Fifth. He saw
in the proposed bridegroom, a youth who had been from childhood, the
petted page and confidant of the hated Emperor, to whom he owed his long
imprisonment. He saw in him too, the intimate friend and ally--for the
brooding quarrels of the state council were not yet patent to the world
--of the still more deeply detested Granvelle; the crafty priest whose
substitution of "einig" for "ewig" had inveigled him into that terrible
captivity. These considerations alone would have made him unfriendly to
the Prince, even had he not been a Catholic.
The Elector Augustus, however, uncle and guardian to the bride, was not
only well-disposed but eager for the marriage, and determined to overcome
all obstacles, including the opposition of the Landgrave, without whose
consent he was long pledged not to bestow the hand of Anna. For this
there were more than one reason. Augustus, who, in the words of one of
the most acute historical critics of our day, was "a Byzantine Emperor of
the lowest class, re-appearing in electoral hat and mantle," was not firm
in his rights to the dignity he held. He had inherited from his brother,
but his brother had dispossessed John Frederic. Maurice, when turning
against the Emperor, who had placed him in his cousin's seat, had not
thought it expedient to restore to the rightful owner the rank which he
himself owed to the violence of Charles. Those claims might be
revindicated, and Augustus be degraded in his turn, by a possible
marriage of the Princess Anna, with some turbulent or intriguing German
potentate. Out of the land she was less likely to give trouble. The
alliance, if not particularly desirable on the score of rank, was, in
other worldly respects, a most brilliant one for his niece. As for the
religious point, if he could overcome or circumvent the scruples of the
Landgrave, he foresaw little difficulty in conquering his own conscience.
The Prince of Orange, it is evident, was placed in such a position, that
it would be difficult for him to satisfy all parties. He intended that
the marriage, like all marriages among persons in high places at that
day, should be upon the "uti possidetis" principle, which was the
foundation of the religious peace of Germany. His wife, after marriage
and removal to the Netherlands, would "live Catholically;" she would be
considered as belonging to the same Church with her husband, was to give
no offence to the government, and bring no suspicion upon himself, by
violating any of the religious decencies. Further than this, William,
who at that day was an easy, indifferent Catholic, averse to papal
persecutions, but almost equally averse to long, puritanical prayers and
faces, taking far more pleasure in worldly matters than in ecclesiastical
controversies, was not disposed to advance in this thorny path. Having a
stern bigot to deal with, in Madrid, and another in Cassel, he soon
convinced himself that he was not likely entirely to satisfy either, and
thought it wiser simply to satisfy himself.
Early in 1560, Count Gunther de Schwartzburg, betrothed to the Prince's
sister Catharine, together with Colonel George Von Holl, were despatched
to Germany to open the marriage negotiations. They found the Elector
Augustus already ripe and anxious for the connexion. It was easy for the
envoys to satisfy all his requirements on the religious question. If, as
the Elector afterwards stated to the Landgrave, they really promised that
the young lady should be allowed to have an evangelical preacher in her
own apartments, together with the befitting sacraments, it is very
certain that they travelled a good way out of their instructions, for
such concessions were steadily refused by William in person. It is,
however, more probable that Augustus, whose slippery feet were disposed
to slide smoothly and swiftly over this dangerous ground, had represented
the Prince's communications under a favorable gloss of his own. At any
rate, nothing in the subsequent proceedings justified the conclusions
thus hastily formed.
The Landgrave Philip, from the beginning, manifested his repugnance to
the match. As soon as the proposition had been received by Augustus,
that potentate despatched Hans yon Carlowitz to the grandfather at
Cassel. The Prince of Orange, it was represented, was young, handsome,
wealthy, a favorite of the Spanish monarch; the Princess Anna, on the
other hand, said her uncle was not likely to grow straighter or better
proportioned in body, nor was her crooked and perverse character likely
to improve with years. It was therefore desirable to find a settlement
for her as soon as possible. The Elector, however, would decide upon
nothing without the Landgrave's consent.
To this frank, and not very flattering statement, so far as the
young lady was concerned, the Landgrave answered stoutly and
characteristically. The Prince was a Spanish subject, he said, and would
not be able to protect Anna in her belief, who would sooner or later
become a fugitive: he was but a Count in Germany, and no fitting match
for an Elector's daughter; moreover, the lady herself ought to be
consulted, who had not even seen the Prince. If she were crooked in
body, as the Elector stated, it was a shame to expose her; to conceal it,
however, was questionable, as the Prince might complain afterwards that a
straight princess had been promised, and a crooked one fraudulently
substituted,--and so on, though a good deal more of such quaint
casuistry, in which the Landgrave was accomplished. The amount of his
answer, however, to the marriage proposal was an unequivocal negative,
from which he never wavered.
In consequence of this opposition, the negotiations were for a time
suspended. Augustus implored the Prince not to abandon the project,
promising that every effort should be made to gain over the Landgrave,
hinting that the old man might "go to his long rest soon," and even
suggesting that if the worst came to the worst, he had bound himself to
do nothing without the knowledge of the Landgrave, but was not obliged to
wait for his consent.
On the other hand, the Prince had communicated to the King of Spain the
fact of the proposed marriage. He had also held many long conversations
with the Regent and with Granvelle. In all these interviews he had
uniformly used one language: his future wife was to "live as a Catholic,"
and if that point were not conceded, he would break off the negotiations.
He did not pretend that she was to abjure her Protestant faith. The
Duchess, in describing to Philip the conditions, as sketched to her by
the Prince, stated expressly that Augustus of Saxony was to consent that
his niece "should live Catholically after the marriage," but that it was
quite improbable that "before the nuptials she would be permitted to
abjure her errors, and receive necessary absolution, according to the
rules of the Church." The Duchess, while stating her full confidence in
the orthodoxy of the Prince, expressed at the same time her fears that
attempts might be made in the future by his new connexions "to pervert
him to their depraved opinions."
A silence of many months ensued on the part of the sovereign, during
which he was going through the laborious process of making up his mind,
or rather of having it made up for him by people a thousand miles off.
In the autumn Granvelle wrote to say that the Prince was very much
surprised to have been kept so long waiting for a definite reply to his
communications, made at the beginning of the year concerning his intended
marriage, and to learn at last that his Majesty had sent no answer, upon
the ground that the match had been broken off; the fact being, that the
negotiations were proceeding more earnestly than ever.
Nothing could be more helpless and more characteristic than the letter
which Philip sent, thus pushed for a decision. "You wrote me," said he,
"that you had hopes that this matter of the Prince's marriage would go
no further, and seeing that you did not write oftener on the subject,
I thought certainly that it had been terminated. This pleased me not a
little, because it was the best thing that could be done. Likewise,"
continued the most tautological of monarchs, "I was much pleased that it
should be done. Nevertheless;" he added, "if the marriage is to be
proceeded with, I really don't know what to say about it, except to refer
it to my sister, inasmuch as a person being upon the spot can see better
what can be done with regard to it; whether it be possible to prevent it,
or whether it be best, if there be no remedy, to give permission. But if
there be a remedy, it would be better to take it, because," concluded the
King, pathetically, "I don't see how the Prince could think of marrying
with the daughter of the man who did to his majesty, now in glory, that
which Duke Maurice did."
Armed with this luminous epistle, which, if it meant any thing, meant a
reluctant affirmation to the demand of the Prince for the royal consent,
the Regent and Granvelle proceeded to summon William of Orange, and to
catechise him in a manner most galling to the pride, and with a latitude
not at all justified by any reasonable interpretation of the royal
instructions. They even informed him that his Majesty had assembled
"certain persons learned in cases of conscience, and versed in theology,"
according to whose advice a final decision, not yet possible, would be
given at some future period. This assembly of learned conscience-keepers
and theologians had no existence save in the imaginations of Granvelle
and Margaret. The King's letter, blind and blundering as it was, gave
the Duchess the right to decide in the affirmative on her own
responsibility; yet fictions like these formed a part of the
"dissimulation," which was accounted profound statesmanship by the
disciples of Machiavelli. The Prince, however irritated, maintained his
steadiness; assured the Regent that the negotiation had advanced too far
to be abandoned, and repeated his assurance that the future Princess of
Orange was to "live as a Catholic."
In December, 1560, William made a visit to Dresden, where he was received
by the Elector with great cordiality. This visit was conclusive as to
the marriage. The appearance and accomplishments of the distinguished
suitor made a profound impression upon the lady. Her heart was carried
by storm. Finding, or fancying herself very desperately enamored of the
proposed bridegroom, she soon manifested as much eagerness for the
marriage as did her uncle, and expressed herself frequently with the
violence which belonged to her character. "What God had decreed," she
said, "the Devil should not hinder."
The Prince was said to have exhibited much diligence in his attention
to the services of the Protestant Church during his visit at Dreaden.
As that visit lasted, however, but ten or eleven days, there was no great
opportunity for shewing much zeal.
At the same period one William Knuttel was despatched by Orange on the
forlorn hope of gaining the old Landgrave's consent, without making any
vital concessions. "Will the Prince," asked the Landgrave, "permit my
granddaughter to have an evangelical preacher in the house?"--"No,"
answered Knuttel. "May she at least receive the sacrament of the Lord's
Supper in her own chamber, according to the Lutheran form?"--" No,"
answered Knuttel, "neither in Breda, nor any where else in the
Netherlands. If she imperatively requires such sacraments, she must
go over the border for them, to the nearest Protestant sovereign."
Upon the 14th April, 1561, the Elector, returning to the charge, caused a
little note to be drawn up on the religious point, which he forwarded, in
the hope that the Prince would copy and sign it. He added a promise that
the memorandum should never be made public to the signer's disadvantage.
At the same time he observed to Count Louis, verbally, "that he had been
satisfied with the declarations made by the Prince when in Dresden, upon
all points, except that concerning religion. He therefore felt obliged
to beg for a little agreement in writing. "By no means! by no means!"
interrupted Louis promptly, at the very first word, "the Prince can give
your electoral highness no such assurance. 'T would be risking life,
honor, and fortune to do so, as your grace is well aware. The Elector
protested that the declaration, if signed, should never come into the
Spanish monarch's hands, and insisted upon sending it to the Prince.
Louis, in a letter to his brother, characterized the document as
"singular, prolix and artful," and strongly advised the Prince to have
nothing to do with it.
This note, which the Prince was thus requested to sign, and which his
brother Louis thus strenuously advised him not to sign, the Prince never
did sign. Its tenor was to the following effect:--The Princess, after
marriage, was, neither by menace nor persuasion; to be turned from the
true and pure Word of God, or the use of the sacrament according to the
doctrines of the Augsburg Confession. The Prince was to allow her to
read books written in accordance with the Augsburg Confession. The
prince was to permit her, as often, annually, as she required it, to go
out of the Netherlands to some place where she could receive the
sacrament according to the Augsburg Confession. In case she were in
sickness or perils of childbirth, the Prince, if necessary, would call
to her an evangelical preacher, who might administer to her the holy
sacrament in her chamber. The children who might spring from the
marriage were to be instructed as to the doctrines of the Augsburg
Confession.
Even if executed, this celebrated memorandum would hardly have been
at variance with the declarations made by the Prince to the Spanish
government. He had never pretended that his bride was to become a
Catholic, but only to live as a Catholic. All that he had promised,
or was expected to promise, was that his wife should conform to the law
in the Netherlands. The paper, in a general way, recognized that law.
In case of absolute necessity, however, it was stipulated that the
Princess should have the advantage of private sacraments. This certainly
would have been a mortal offence in a Calvinist or Anabaptist, but for
Lutherans the practise had never been so strict. Moreover, the Prince
already repudiated the doctrines of the edicts, and rebelled against the
command to administer them within his government. A general promise,
therefore, made by him privately, in the sense of the memorandum drawn up
by the Elector, would have been neither hypocritical nor deceitful, but
worthy the man who looked over such grovelling heads as Granvelle and
Philip on the one side, or Augustus of Saxony on the other, and estimated
their religious pretences at exactly what they were worth. A formal
document, however, technically according all these demands made by the
Elector, would certainly be regarded by the Spanish government as a very
culpable instrument. The Prince never signed the note, but, as we shall
have occasion to state in its proper place, he gave a verbal declaration,
favorable to its tenor, but in very vague and brief terms, before a
notary, on the day of the marriage.
If the reader be of opinion that too much time has been expended upon the
elucidation of this point, he should remember that the character of a
great and good man is too precious a possession of history to be lightly
abandoned. It is of no great consequence to ascertain the precise creed
of Augustus of Saxony, or of his niece; it is of comparatively little
moment to fix the point at which William of Orange ceased to be an
honest, but liberal Catholic, and opened his heart to the light of the
Reformation; but it is of very grave interest that his name should be
cleared of the charge of deliberate fraud and hypocrisy. It has
therefore been thought necessary to prove conclusively that the Prince
never gave, in Dresden or Cassel, any assurance inconsistent with his
assertions to King and Cardinal. The whole tone of his language and
demeanor on the religious subject was exhibited in his reply to the
Electress, who, immediately after the marriage, entreated that he would
not pervert her niece from the paths of the true religion. "She shall
not be troubled," said the Prince, "with such melancholy things. Instead
of holy writ she shall read 'Amadis de Gaule,' and such books of pastime
which discourse de amore; and instead of knitting and sewing she shall
learn to dance a galdiarde, and such courtoisies as are the mode of our
country and suitable to her rank."
The reply was careless, flippant, almost contemptuous. It is very
certain that William of Orange was not yet the "father William" he was
destined to become--grave, self-sacrificing, deeply religious, heroic;
but it was equally evident from this language that he had small sympathy,
either in public or private, with Lutheranism or theological controversy.
Landgrave William was not far from right when he added, in his quaint
style, after recalling this well-known reply, "Your grace will observe,
therefore, that when the abbot has dice in his pocket, the convent will
play."
So great was the excitement at the little court of Cassel, that many
Protestant princes and nobles declared that "they would sooner give their
daughters to a boor or a swineherd than to a Papist: The Landgrave was
equally vigorous in his protest, drawn up in due form on the 26th April,
1561. He was not used, he said, "to flatter or to tickle with a
foxtail." He was sorry if his language gave offense, nevertheless "the
marriage was odious, and that was enough." He had no especial objection
to the Prince, "who before the world was a brave and honorable man:' He
conceded that his estates were large, although he hinted that his debts
also were ample; allowed that he lived in magnificent style, had even
heard "of one of his banquets, where all the table-cloths, plates, and
every thing else, were made of sugar," but thought he might be even a
little too extravagant; concluding, after a good deal of skimble-skamble
of this nature, with "protesting before God, the world, and all pious
Christians, that he was not responsible for the marriage, but only the
Elector Augustus and others, who therefore would one day have to render
account thereof to the Lord."
Meantime the wedding had been fixed to take place on Sunday, the 24th
August, 1561. This was St. Bartholomew's, a nuptial day which was not
destined to be a happy one in the sixteenth century. The Landgrave and
his family declined to be present at the wedding, but a large and
brilliant company were invited. The King of Spain sent a bill of
exchange to the Regent, that she might purchase a ring worth three
thousand crowns, as a present on his part to the bride. Beside this
liberal evidence that his opposition to the marriage was withdrawn, he
authorized his sister to appoint envoys from among the most distinguished
nobles to represent him on the occasion. The Baron de Montigny,
accordingly, with a brilliant company of gentlemen, was deputed by
the Duchess, although she declined sending all the governors of the
provinces, according to the request of the Prince. The marriage was
to take place at Leipsic. A slight picture of the wedding festivities,
derived entirely from unpublished sources, may give some insight into the
manners and customs of high life in Germany and the Netherlands at this
epoch.
The Kings of Spain and Denmark were invited, and were represented by
special ambassadors. The Dukes of Brunswick, Lauenburg, Mecklenburg, the
Elector and Margraves of Brandenburg, the Archbishop of Cologne, the Duke
of Cleves, the Bishops of Naumburg, Meneburg, Meissen, with many other
potentates, accepted the invitations, and came generally in person, a few
only being represented by envoys. The town councils of Erfurt, Leipsic,
Magdeburg, and other cities, were also bidden. The bridegroom was
personally accompanied by his brothers John, Adolphus, and Louis; by the
Burens, the Leuchtenbergs, and various other distinguished personages.
As the electoral residence at Leipsic was not completely finished,
separate dwellings were arranged for each of the sovereign families
invited, in private houses, mostly on the market-place. Here they were
to be furnished with provisions by the Elector's officials, but they were
to cook for themselves. For this purpose all the princes had been
requested to bring their own cooks and butlers, together with their plate
and kitchen utensils. The sovereigns themselves were to dine daily with
the Elector at the town-house, but the attendants and suite were to take
their meals in their own lodgings. A brilliant collection of gentlemen
and pages, appointed by the Elector to wait at his table, were ordered to
assemble at Leipsic on the 22d, the guests having been all invited for
the 23d. Many regulations were given to these noble youths, that they
might discharge their duties with befitting decorum. Among other orders,
they received particular injunctions that they were to abstain from all
drinking among themselves, and from all riotous conduct whatever, while
the sovereigns and potentates should be at dinner. "It would be a
shameful indecency," it was urged, "if the great people sitting at table
should be unable to hear themselves talk on account of the screaming of
the attendants." This provision did not seem unreasonable. They were
also instructed that if invited to drink by any personage at the great
tables they were respectfully to decline the challenge, and to explain
the cause after the repast.