Councilor Berlaymont, exclaimed: "They call us Beggars! Let us accept the name; we will contend with this Inquisition till we all wear the beggar's sack!" He then beckoned to one of his pages, who brought him a leathern wallet and a large wooden bowl, such as were worn and used by professional mendicants, and slinging the wallet round his neck, and filling the bowl with wine, he lifted the ungainly goblet with both his hands, and drained it at a draught. "Long live the beggars!" (Vivent les gueux!) he cried, as he wiped his beard and set down the bowl. "Then," says Mr. Motley, "for the first time, from the lips of those reckless nobles, rose the famous cry which was so often to ring over land and sea, amid blazing cities, on blood-stained decks, through the smoke and carnage of many a stricken field." Amidst shouts of laughter and applause Brederode threw the wallet round the neck of his nearest neighbor, and handed him the wooden bowl. Each guest in turn took the knapsack, and, pushing aside the gold and silver plate before him, filled the capacious wooden bowl, and drank the beggars! The new shibboleth was invented. While the tumult was at its hight, the Prince of Orange with some other nobles entered the apartment. He was immediately surrounded by the "beggars," these bacchanalian patriots, and compelled to drink their toast, though, in the confusion of the scene, its meaning was still unexplained to him. He drank a cup of wine with them, but used his influence to prevail upon them to break up their dangerous festivities. is the city quieted because it takes its intoxicating draught of spiritual enthusiasm without the walls. What can the presence of one man do, who brings with him neither arms to terrify, nor power to revoke the destructive and fanatic measures of the King? Yet the whole city of Antwerp calls for the Prince of Orange. And the Duchess entreats him to use his mediatorial influence. He goes, and is received as a saviour. Some brief period of peace follows, but the insane resolution of the Spanish monarch can not be shaken. Only through war, and war of the most terrible kind, can peace finally be secured. Not only between Protestant and Catholic, but between Lutheran and Calvinist, he has to act as mediator. The true principle of toleration seems to be embraced by no one-certainly by no party or sect. He does embrace it, contends for it against friend and foe. At a second visit to Antwerp, it falls on him to prevent a civil war between Lutheran and Calvinist. The storm rages higher, and Orange erects himself to meet it. The pupil of Charles V. knows well what manner of men he has to deal with; no simulation or hypocrisy of the Spanish court can deceive him; to him it is clear as day that there can be no amity with the King except by relinquishing entirely all freedom, civil and religious. He casts in his lot with the people. His friend, Count Egmont, still hoped to combine loyalty with patriotism. Very touching, indeed, is the parting that now takes place between the two friends. Orange in vain On every occasion he is seen to be the tries to open the eyes of Egmont to the friend of order and authority, so long as true character of the King of Spain. these do not violate the most palpable Loyal and generous himself, he can not claims of justice and humanity. It is believe that Philip, who treated him so astonishing how the country began to courteously and hospitably during that look upon this man, as if their hope lay visit, so unfortunate for his own fame and with him. Thus it is in disastrous times; honor, which he paid the court at Madrid,* if the multitude will, by their fidelity to means his ruin and destruction. Alva has the greatest amongst them, make him now come upon the scene. Orange knows strong, they find a pillar of strength on well that both he and Egmont are prowhich they themselves can lean. Ant- scribed men. But Egmont is fatally dewerp is in a state bordering on insurrec- luded." Alas! Egmont," said the Prince, tion. The preachers of the new faith are "the King's clemency, of which you forbidden the churches, the chapels, the boast, will destroy you: would that I public rooms, the public streets - are might be deceived: but I foresee too driven from the city; the people encamp clearly that you are to be the bridge without the walls, and listen to their which the Spaniards will destroy so soon preachers there. The sermon, we may as they have passed over it to invade the be sure, is none the less stirring for being country." With these words he conclud listened to in a half-rebellious spirit; nor ed his vain appeal to awaken the Count from his fatal security. "Then, as if persuaded that he was looking upon his friend for the last time, William of Orange threw his arms around Egmont, and held him for a moment in a close embrace. Tears fell from the eyes of both at this parting noment; and then, the brief scene of simple and lofty pathos terminated, Egmont and Orange separated from each other, never to meet again on earth." The "bridge" was very little used; its destruction seemed the main thing that was plotted. Philip wrote to the Count in the most friendly strain after the commission had been given to Alva to arrest him and the other nobles of his party. Thus, in spite of many admonitions-some of them even from Spaniards-the unhappy Count was lured to his destruction. Alva was enabled very dextrously to accomplish his arrest. He had, however, the mortification to find that the man whom above all others it was necessary for him to capture, had escaped. The ex-minister, the Cardinal, on hearing that Orange had not been seized, said very truly: "That Orange had escaped, they had taken nobody, and that his capture would have been more valuable than that of every man in the Netherlands." The contest had now become earnest indeed. It was no longer a weak woman who held the regency; it was the most consummate general and the most inflexible man that Philip could have selected who now held the Netherlands under a military despotism. Orange declared war against this tyrant, levied troops in Germany, expended all his resources to bring an army into the field; but through the masterly generalship and Fabian tactics of Alva, he was doomed to see the season pass, and his troops disband, without effecting any thing. The Prince of Orange gains no victories in the open field. Hardly any great man has accomplished so much with so few successes. But perseverance through adversity, through defeat, through calumny and slander, met with its reward. He trusted always to his sacred cause, and felt that he and it must be under the providence of God. And this is the place to mention that he had now embraced, with a sober and sincere zeal, the Reformed faith; thus arming himself completely for the great task committed to him. We have no account here of the gradual steps of his conversion. Mr. Motley very judiciously observes that the real incidents of his life, and not religious controversy, led, in all probability, to the change. Feeling the necessity for the support of religion, and feeling this need at a time when two forms of Christianity presented themselves for his selection, he preferred the Protestant. A Catholic may suggest that he chose the religion of that party with which his own fortunes were henceforth to be bound up - that his was, in fact, a political conversion; but his after life, and the tenor of his private correspondence, prove him to have become sincerely and zealously pious. To us the choice seems very natural: he who had seen so much of priests-though perhaps of the higher and not the more spiritual order-was not likely (if he could adopt another) to select that form of Christianity in which a priesthood stands between the human soul and its God. He would prefer the theology which led him at once into communion with God and Christ, to that which put a priestly confessor beside him to dog his footsteps every moment of his life. One thing is indisputable, and highly to his glory; both for Catholics and Protestants, for Lutherans and Calvinists, he claimed liberty of thought, freedom of worship, the full and manly enunciation of every sincere conviction. He was misunderstood even by his own party; his noble sense of justice was often traduced as lukewarmness and irreligion. Peter Dathenus, a fiery zealot who for some time exerted an overbearing influence from the pulpit of Ghent, denounced him as an atheist in heart -as a man who knew no God but state expediency, which was the idol of his worship.” And a far more temperate Protestant, St. Aldegonde, seemed incapable of comprehending that there was any necessity to preach toleration to those of the Reformed faith; he evidently can not understand that "religious peace" at which the Prince was aiming, that mutual forbearance, that freedom of restraint for all in matters purely religious. "The Prince," he says complainingly, in one of his letters-and the complaint remains an honor to his misapprehended leader-" The Prince has uttered reproaches to me that our clergy are striving to obtain a mastery over consciences. He praised lately the saying of a monk, who was not long here, that our pot had not gone to the fire as often as that of our antagonists, but that, when the time came, it would be black enough. 66 In short, the Prince fears that after a few ❘ the next, why should he any longer delay centuries the clerical tyranny on both sides to strike? On the one hand there was will stand in this respect on the same the imminent risk of being captured footing." The Prince of Orange lived to see Holland and Zealand obtain, through many trials and the fiercest struggle, their independence; and had just accepted some modified sovereignty of these provinces, under the title of Count, when his assassination took place. We regret to find how conspicuous a part his old opponent, Cardinal Granvelle, plays in this transaction. It is he, it seems, who whispered into the King's ear the expediency of removing the Prince by the assassination. He couples the advice with a base calumny against the courage of the man whose life was one constant exposure to danger. He was in favor of publicly setting a price upon his head-offering a reward of thirty or forty thousand crowns to any one who would deliver up the Prince dead or alive; and he added, "as the Prince of Orange is a vile coward, fear alone will throw him into confusion." Thus writes, thus counsels, the priest; and the King, who was not difficult to persuade on such an occasion, accordingly published what is called his " ban," in which after enumerating the offenses of Orange, after banishing and putting him out of the pale of law, he continues thus: "And if any one of our subjects, or any stranger, should be found sufficiently generous of heart to rid us of this pest, delivering him to us alive or dead, or taking his life, we will cause to be furnished to him, immediately after the deed shall have been done, the sum of twenty-five thousand crowns in gold. If he have committed any crime, however heinous, we promise to pardon him; and if he be not already noble, we will ennoble him for his valor." Thus, says Mr. Motley, by Cardinal Granvelle and by Philip, a price was set upon the head of the foremost man of his age, as if he had been a savage beast, and admission into the ranks of Spain's haughty nobility was made the additional bribe to tempt the assassin. Balthazar Gérard, the miserable creature who executed this royal ban, had been already led by his fanaticism to believe that the murder of the arch-rebel and arch-heretic, as he thought the Prince, would be a work of supereminent piety. If now, wealth and nobility in this world were to be added to the highest honors in after the blow was struck, or the shot fired, and being put to a most cruel death; but, on the other hand, there was a great prize to be gained, and there was every satisfaction that an orthodox Catholic could require for his conscience. His King commanded-his confessor approved. When he confided his scheme to the regent of the Jesuit college, "that dignitary expressed high approbation of the plan, gave Gérard his blessing, and promised him that, if his life should be sacrificed in achieving his purpose, he should be enrolled amongst the martyrs." Under a false name and character he contrived to gain admission into the house of the Prince of Orange, who was then residing in the little town of Delft. He represented himself as a Protestant, and the son of a Protestant who had suffered death for his religion. "A pious, psalm-singing, thoroughly Calvinistic youth he seemed to be, having a Bible or a hymn-book under his arm whenever he walked the street, and most exemplary in his attendance at sermon and lecture. For the rest, a singularly unobtrusive personage, twentyseven years of age, low of stature, meager, mean-visaged, muddy-complexioned, and altogether a man of no account." His appearance had so little prepossessed the then Regent of the Netherlands, the Prince of Parma, (who had advanced money to villains of all nations, who had spent it and done nothing,) that he refused to lend him any assistance, and he was absolutely so poor that he received as charity from William of Orange the means of purchasing the pistols by which the assassination was to be committed. With money thus procured, he bought a pair of pistols, or small carabines, from a soldier, chaffering long about the price. On the following day, it is said that the soldier stabbed himself to the heart, and died despairing, on hearing for what purpose the pistols had been bought! The shot was fired as the Prince was passing from the dining-room to his own private apartments. Three balls entered his body. He expired in a few minutes. "O my God! have mercy upon my soul! O my God! have mercy upon this poor people!" were the last words he ut tered. Thus expired a man who may justly be multiplied into innumerable artificial currents, by which the city was completely interlaced. These watery streets were shaded by lime trees, poplars, and willows, and crossed by one hundred and forty-five bridges, mostly of hammered stone. The houses were elegant, the squares and streets spacious, airy, and clean, the the whole aspect of the place suggested thrift, industry, and comfort. Upon an artificial elevation in the center of the city rose a ruined considered to be of Roman origin, while others tower of unknown antiquity. By some it was preferred to regard it as the work of the AngloSaxon Hengist, raised to commemorate his conquest of England. Surrounded by fruit-trees, and overgrown in the center by oaks, it afforded from its moldering battlements a charming prospect over a wide expanse of level country, with the spires of neighboring cities rising in every direction. It was from this commanding hight, during the long and terrible summer days which were approaching, that many an eye was to be strained anxiously seaward, watching if yet the ocean had begun to roll over the land." called Great; for the title is then most legitimately applied when one in a high station, or endowed with great powers, devotes himself to a noble cause. The miserable assassin, with his meager frame and contemptible appearance, had, at all events, that species of courage or endur-churches and public edifices imposing, while ance which we find in perfection in the wild Indian. He had almost made his escape; he had reached the ramparts, from which he intended to spring into the moat, when he stumbled over a heap of rubbish and fell. This led to his capture. From that moment he was calm as a martyred saint, supporting every species of torture that could be devised with an equanimity so surprising that it was thought unaccountable, except on the ground of witchcraft and sorcery. He was clothed, therefore, "in the shirt of an hospital patient," that being a charm against sorcery, and tortured anew; but even in the shirt he manifested the same apparent impassiveness to pain. Το pass in review a history of the Re-by the Spanish army under Valdez. The volt of the Netherlands, without dwelling at all on the many terrible sieges and massacres that distinguished it, seems a strange omission; it would be an omission still less justifiable if we were to quit Mr. Motley's work without giving any idea of the spirited and powerful manner in which he has described the horrors of this civil war. Does the reader remember the siege of Leyden ? Probably he does, yet not so vividly but that he will read the not so vividly but that he will read the account of it in these volumes with keen interest. We instance the siege of Leyden, not only from the quite peculiar circumstances that attended it, but because, happily, it does not end in one of those fearful mas sacres, where cruelty, lust, and brutality take their most exaggerated form, and of which we necessarily have to read here till we recoil from the page. We abridge Mr. Motley's account. This fair city was completely invested could encounter the enemy with the least Prince of Orange had no troops which chance of success. There was no possible way of throwing provisions into the town. Famine must exterminate the inhabitants, unless the sea, which was twenty miles distant, could be brought up to the walls of the city! The sea bearing the Dutch meadows and outlying villages, was their fleet to their assistance through those only hope. Such was the plan of the Prince of Orange, and such the desperate expedient that the States of Holland were land be sunk than the nation be enslaved! willing to sanction. Rather let the whole But the Prince of Orange lay ill of a fever in Rotterdam, and the work went on slowly, and to many the expedient seemed altogether wild and visionary. "Go up to the tower, ye Beggars !" was the the opponents of the Prince-"Go up to taunting cry of some in the city who were the tower, and tell us if ye can see the ocean coming over the dry land to your relief?" And day after day they did go up to the ancient tower of Hengist with heavy heart and anxious eye, watching, hoping, praying, fearing, and at last al "Leyden was now destined to pass through a fiery ordeal. This city was one of the most beautiful in the Netherlands. Placed in the midst of broad and fruitful pastures, which had been reclaimed by the hand of industry from the bottom of the sea, it was fringed with smil ing villages, blooming gardens, fruitful orchards. The ancient, and, at last, decrepit Rhine, flow-rical style by which we have ventured to intimate ing languidly towards its sandy bed,* had been *The reader may observe here (if he cares to notice it) an instance of that poetical or metapho Mr. Motley does not improve his descriptions. If he would take a hint from us, he would avoid all indulgence in poetic fancy, and let his eloquence be under the sole inspiration and guidance of | strong feelings and strong facts. most despairing of relief by God and man. But the Prince recovered from his illness, and the necessary preparations were vigorously resumed. Admiral Boissot got his vessels together, with eight hundred veteran sailors—the "sea-beggars"-renowned far and wide for their nautical skill and ferocious courage; he also collected good store of provisions for the starving city. The dykes were destroyed, and the flotilla made its way fifteen miles up the country to the strong dyke called the Land-scheiding; and there it was arrested. Between this and Leyden were several other dykes; and, moreover, the Spaniards were encamped there, or lodged in forts. The Land-scheiding, however, was vigorously seized on by the Dutch, was broken through in several places, and the fleet sailed on. Then came another dyke, the "Green-way," and that was seized and opened, and the fleet still passed inland. But now the sea, which had thus far borne them on, diffused itself under an adverse wind, and became too shallow for the ships. "Meantime the besieged city was at its last gasp. The burghers had been in a state of uncertainty for many days. They knew that the wind was unfavorable; and at the dawn of each day every eye was turned wistfully to the vanes of the steeples. So long as the easterly breeze prevailed, they felt as they anxiously stood on towers and house-tops, that they must look in vain for the welcome ocean. Yet while thus patiently waiting, they were literally starving; for even the misery endured at Haarlem had not reached that depth and intensity of agony to which Leyden was now reduced. The daily mortality was frightful. The pestilence now stalked at noonday through the city, and the doomed inhabitants fell like grass beneath its scythe. From six thousand to eight thousand human beings sank before this scourge alone; yet the people resolutely held out-women and men mutually encouraging each other to resist the entrance of their foreign foe-an evil more horrible than pest or famine. Leyden was sublime in its despair. A few murmurs were, however, occasionally heard at the steadfastness of the magistrates, and a dead body was placed at the door of the burgomaster, as a silent witness against his inflexibility. A party of the more faint-hearted even assailed the heroic Adrian van der Werf with threats and reproaches as he passed through the streets. A crowd had gathered around him as he reached a triangular place in the center of the town, into which many of the principal streets emptied themselves. There stood the burgomaster-a tall, haggard, imposing figure, with dark visage, and a tranquil but commanding eye. He waved his broad-leaved felt hat for silence, and then exclaimed, in a language which has been alfriends? Why do ye murmur that we do not most literally preserved-'What would ye, my break our vows and surrender the city to the Spaniards? a fate more horrible than the agony she now endures. I tell you I have made an oath to hold the city, and may God give me strength to keep my oath! I can die but once, whether by your hand, the enemy's, or by the not so that of the city intrusted to my care. hand of God. My own fate is indifferent to me, I know that we shall starve if not soon relieved; but starvation is preferable to the dishonored death which is the only alternative. menaces move me not; my life is at your disposal; here is my sword, plunge it into my breast, and divide my flesh among you. Take my body to appease your hunger, but expect no surrender so long as I remain alive !'" Your But the wind rose, and the sea with it, and at a fortunate conjuncture, a panic dispersed their enemies, and the relieving fleet sailed into the city! The quays were lined with the famishing population, and from every vessel bread was thrown amongst the crowd. Some choked themselves to death with the food thus suddenly presented to them. By the spontaneous movement of the multitude, or as a measure wisely ordained to calm the over-excitement of the moment, all the inhabitants, the magistrates and citizens, the sailors and the soldiers, repaired to the great church, there to bend in humble gratitude before the King of kings. Thousands of voices raised the thanksgiving hymn; but the universal emotion became too full for utterancethe hymn was abruptly suspended, and the multitude wept like children. Surely no people ever won its freedom through greater efforts, sufferings, and sacrifices than these United Provinces of the Netherlands. God forbid that any European nation should again pass through so terrible an ordeal; still it is instructive, and it stirs the heart to learn what men can do and suffer in a righteous cause. With the death of Orange terminates the first installment which Mr. Motley has given us of his history. The remaining portion will treat more especially of the acts and the career of the Dutch Republic. Then will be the fit occasion to offer some remarks on the "place in history" of this famous republic; for all Europe, and England especially, owes a great debt to Holland. We are accustomed, and with justice, to say at the present |