The Story of Nations - Holland/Chapter 5

When tyrants come to violent deaths, there is constantly a belief, engendered of terror, that they are not dead after all, but that they will reappear, to take vengeance on those who have rejoiced at their fate. For a long time there was a persistent belief in ancient Rome that Nero was not dead. For six or seven years many in the Netherlands dreaded the reppearance of Charles the Headstrong.

But most men were convinced of his death. The Netherlanders took advantage of it at once, and claimed even more than their own liberties. They knew that the old fox, who had already occupied Burgundy, was gaping wide for their country. They were willing, to assist Mary in retaining her inheritance in the Low Countries. So the Estates were summoned to Ghent in this hour of supreme danger. Of course money was demanded, now with some reason. There was remonstrance indeed, for the States declare that they are impoverished by enormous taxation and ruinous wars—taxation levied levied in defiance of their charters—wars undertaken without their consent.

In answer to these demands, Mary granted the “Great Privilege,” the Magna Charta of the Netherlands. It was this constitution which Mary's grandson violated, which the Netherlanders took up arms to recover and maintain, which Holland fought for during more than fifty years, and finally secured. It provided that offices should be filled by natives only; that the Great Council and Supreme Court of Holland should be re-established, and should be a court of appeal, having no jurisdiction over the other tribunals; that the cities and estates should hold diets when they chose; that no new taxes should be imposed without the consent of the estates; that no war should be undertaken without the consent of the estates; that the language of the people should be used in all public and legal documents; that the seat of government should be at the Hague; that the Estates should alone regulate the currency, and that the sovereign should come in person before the Estates when supply was required. The Estates also took care that the citizens should be protected against arbitrary imprisonment.

The constitution of the Netherlands, repeated in all the States, is the freest and fullest which any country had attained to or preserved. Perhaps when Mary granted it, and promised to keep it, she meant what she did and said. But whether it was that she bethought herself of that common doctrine of princes in those days, that subjects have no rights against their rulers, that rulers are not bound to speak the truth, or keep their word, a doctrine by no means dead even in our days; or whether she was persuaded that she had derogated from her dignity in granting what her father had tyrannously withheld, it is certain that she or her counsellors intrigued with the old French fox.

Louis thought it would pay better to betray her counsellors, and to furnish the fact that they were traitors to their country, to their colleagues, and to the Great Privilege. So it came out. They were seized in Ghent, instantly tried and instantly beheaded. The duchess clad in mourning, weeping with her hair dishevelled, and on foot, besought the burghers to spare their lives. It was in vain. The citizens were not content to accept her apologies, for they had gained their privileges, and were near losing them. The distress of Mary has claimed the sympathy of the sentimental. But it is one of the most inevitable and disheartening results of hereditary rank, that it breeds hereditary lackeys. One result, however, came out of the old fox’s perfidy. Mary would have none of his, or those who were allied to him.

She married Maximilian of Hapsburg, son and successor of Frederic the Sleepy, and with the consent of the Netherlanders. Maximilian was a king, soon to be an emperor, with vast necessities and narrow means. He became from time to time the pensioner and the tool of most of the Western kings. He was ever on the look out for money, whatever the source might be signifying little to him, and whatever the conditions might be of procuring it. But his father lived fourteen years after he married Mary, and she had died nine years before her husband was emperor.

Five years after her marriage Mary of Burgundy died from a fall off her horse, and her son Philip succeeded her, being then four years old. Maximilian claimed to be the guardian of his son, and the governor of the country. But the Flemings refused this arrangement, probably because they had a tolerably clear idea as to how the King of the Romans could fulfil the functions of ruler. In 1488 Maximilian tried to surprise Bruges, where the young Duke was residing. Unlucky for him he was made prisoner himself, had to submit to terms, and give hostages. Unfortunately the Hollanders, and some of the other cities, were more concerned for the young Duke than they were for their liberties, and left Bruges to struggle alone with the King of the Romans. Maximilian borrowed an army from his father, conquered the cities in detail, revoked the Great Privilege, slew the burghers of the towns, and fined the inhabitants for asserting their unquestioned rights. During the time of his regency, Maximilian the Pauper made every use he could of his opportunities, and the Netherlands had to bear the consequences.

In 1494, Philip, now seventeen years of age, became sovereign of the Netherlands. But he would only swear to maintain the privileges granted by his grandfather and great-grand father, Charles and Philip, and refused to acquiesce in the Great Privilege of his mother. The Estates acquiesced. For a time, Friesland, the outlying province of Holland, was severed from it. It was free, and it chose as its elective sovereign the Duke of Saxony. After a time he sold his sovereignty to the house of Hapsburg. The dissensions of the Estates had put them at the mercy of an autocratic family.

Philip of Burgundy, in 1496, married Joanna, daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella. In 1500 his son Charles was born, who was afterwards Charles the Fifth, Duke of the Netherlands, but also King of Spain, Emperor of Germany, King of Jerusalem, and, by the grant of Alexander the Sixth, alias Roderic Borgia and Pope, lord of the whole new world. Joanna, his mother, through whom he had this vast inheritance, went mad, and remained mad during her life and his. Charles not only inherited his mother’s and father’s sovereignties, but his grandfather’s also. No wonder that he aspired to universal dominion, and that his son Philip of Spain laboured during his whole life to secure it.

The peril which the liberties of the Netherlands were now running, was greater than ever. They had been drawn into the hands of that dynasty which, beginning with two little Spanish kingdoms, had in a generation developed into the mightiest of monarchies. Ferdinand married Isabella. He was king of the little kingdom of Arragon, she heiress of Castile. They had two daughters, Joan who married Philip of the Netherlands, Catherine who married first Arthur, and afterwards Henry of England. Ferdinand and Isabella conquered the whole of Spain and in a way united it. The queen aided Columbus in his discovery of America. The Pope Alexander the Sixth, himself a Spaniard by descent, bestowed by his Bull, the whole of America, i.e., the West of the Atlantic on Spain, and the whole of the East of the Atlantic on Portugal. There was just this excuse for Alexander's Bull, that Portugal and Spain were the pioneers at the time of maritime discovery in the East and West respectively; for Spanish enterprise discovered the new world, Portuguese enterprise doubled the Cape of Good Hope. As yet, however, no one anticipated what these discoveries and grants would lead to. Moreover, though with growing hesitation, Europe still respected the authority of the Pope, and did not feel inclined to question his grants of sovereignty over distant countries.