by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER VI
THE PRINCE OF ORANGE
Mistress Martin was much troubled in her mind by what seemed toher the unaccountable favour with which her husband had receivedNed's proposal. She did not, however, allow any trace of thisfeeling to escape her, nor did she mention to Ned that she had asyet spoken as to his wishes to his father. The next day CaptainMartin himself renewed the subject.
"I told you yesterday, Sophie, why in my opinion Ned would atpresent be of little aid to me in the matter of the brig, and mayeven go further in that respect and say that I think for a time itwill be just as well that he were not on board. Having no establishedposition there would be no special duties for him to perform. Now,I have made a point of telling him all about the consignments andthe rates of freight, and have encouraged him always to expresshis opinion freely on these matters in order that his intelligencemight thereby be quickened; but if he so expressed himself to thesupercargo the latter might well take offence and difficultiesarise, therefore before you spoke to me I had quite resolved that itwould be best he should sail no more in the Good Venture until oldenough to come in and take the place of second mate and supercargo,but that I would place him with some captain of my acquaintance,under whom he would continue to learn his duty for the next threeor four years."
"That is a good reason, doubtless, husband, why Ned should not sailin the Venture, but surely no reason at all why he should carryout this mad fancy of his."
"No reason, I grant you, wife; but it simply shows that it happensat this moment we can well spare him. As to the main question, itis a weighty one. Other young Englishmen have come out to fight forthe Netherlands with far less cause than he has to mix themselvesup in its affairs. Moreover, and this principally, it is bornestrongly upon my mind that it may be that this boy of ours is calledupon to do good service to Holland. It seems to me wife," he wenton, in answer to the look of astonishment upon his wife's face,"that the hand of Providence is in this matter.
"I have always felt with you a hatred of the Spaniards and a deephorror at the cruelties they are perpetrating upon this unhappypeople, and have thought that did the queen give the order for waragainst them I would gladly adventure my life and ship in such anenterprise; further than that I have not gone. But upon that daywhen I heard the news of your father and brothers' murder I tooka solemn oath to heaven of vengeance against their slayers, andresolved that on my return to England I would buy out my partnersin the Good Venture, and with her join the beggars of the sea andwage war to the death against the Spaniards. It has been willedotherwise, wife. Within twenty-four hours of my taking that oathI was struck down and my fighting powers were gone forever.
"My oath was not accepted. I was not to be an instrument ofGod's vengeance upon these murderers. Now, our son, without wordor consultation with me, feels called upon to take up the work Icannot perform. It happens strangely that he can for the next twoor three years be well spared from his life at sea. That the boywill do great feats I do not suppose; but he is cool and courageous,for I marked his demeanour under fire the other day. And it maybe that though he may do no great things in fighting he may bethe means in saving some woman, some child, from the fury of theSpaniards. If he saved but one, the next three years of his lifewill not have been misspent."
"But he may fall--he may be killed by the Spaniards!" MistressMartin said in great agitation.
"If it be the will of God, wife, not otherwise. He is exposed todanger every time he goes to sea. More than once since he firstcame on board, the Venture has been in dire peril; who can say thather next voyage may not be her last. However, I decide nothing now;tomorrow I will speak to the boy myself and gather from his wordswhether this is a mere passing fancy, natural enough to his age andto the times, or a deep longing to venture his life in the causeof a persecuted people whose blood runs in his veins, and who havea faith which is his own and ours."
Mrs. Martin said no more; her husband's will had, since she married,been in all matters of importance law to her, and was more so thanever now that he lay weak and helpless. His words and manner toohad much impressed her. Her whole sympathies were passionately withher countrymen, and the heavy losses she had so recently sustainedhad added vastly to her hatred of the Spaniards. The suggestion,too, of her husband that though Ned might do no great deeds as asoldier he might be the means of saving some woman or child's life,appealed to her womanly feelings.
She had girls of her own, and the thought that one of like agemight possibly be saved from the horrors of the sack of a city byNed's assistance appealed to her with great force. She went aboutthe house for the rest of the day subdued and quiet. Ned was puzzledat her demeanour, and had he not seen for himself that his fatherwas progressing satisfactorily he would have thought that somerelapse had taken place, some unfavourable symptom appeared. Butthis was clearly not the reason, and he could only fancy that nowhis mother's anxiety as to his father's state was in some degreeabating, she was beginning to feel the loss of her father andbrothers all the more.
That the request she had promised to make in his name to his fatherhad anything to do with the matter did not enter his mind. Indeed,he had begun to regret that he had made it. Not that his intenselonging to take service against the Spaniards was in any way abated,but he felt it was selfish, now that he might for the first timebe of real use to his parents, for him thus to propose to embarkin adventures on his own account. He had asked his mother to putthe matter before his father, but he had scarce even a hope thelatter would for a moment listen to the proposal. The next morningafter breakfast, as he was about to start for a stroll to the wharfto have a talk with Peters, his mother said to him quietly: "Putaside your cap, Ned, your father wishes to speak to you."
She spoke so gravely that Ned ascended the stairs in some perturbationof spirit. Doubtless she had spoken to his father, and the latterwas about to rate him severely for his folly in proposing todesert his duty, and to embark in so wild an adventure as that hehad proposed. He was in no way reassured by the grave tone in whichhis father said:
"Place that chair by my bedside, Ned, and sit down; my voice isnot strong and it fatigues me to speak loud. And now," he went on,when Ned with a shamefaced expression had seated himself by thebedside, "this desire that your mother tells me of to fight againstthe Spaniards for a time in the service of the Prince of Orange,how did it first come to you?"
"Ever since I heard the terrible story of the persecutions here,"Ned replied. "I said to myself then that when I came to be a man Iwould take revenge for these horrible murders. Since then the moreI have heard of the persecutions that the people here have sufferedin the cause of their religion, the more I have longed to be ableto give them such aid as I could. I have spoken of it over and overagain to my sisters; but I do not think that I should ever haveventured to put my desire into words, had it not been for theterrible news we learnt at Vordwyk. Now, however, that they havekilled my grandfather and uncles and have wounded you, I long morethan ever to join the patriots here; and of course the knowledgethat many young Englishmen were coming out to Brill and Flushingas volunteers added to my desire. I said to myself if they who areEnglish are ready to give their lives in the cause of the Hollanders,why should not I, who speak their language and am of their blood?"
"You have no desire to do great deeds or to distinguish yourself?"Captain Martin asked.
"No, father; I have never so much as thought of that. I could notimagine that I, as a boy, could be of any great service. I thoughtI might, perhaps, being so young, be able to be of use in passingamong the Spaniards and carrying messages where a man could notget through. I thought sometimes I might perhaps carry a warningin time to enable women to escape with their children from a townthat was about to be beleaguered, and I hoped that if I did standin the ranks to face the Spaniards I should not disgrace my nationand blood. I know, father, that it was presumptuous for me to thinkthat I could be of any real use; and if you are against it I will,of course, as I told my mother, submit myself ch
eerfully to yourwishes."
"I am glad to see, Ned, that in this matter you are actuated byright motives, and not moved by any boyish idea of adventure or ofdoing feats of valour. This is no ordinary war, my boy. There isnone of the chivalry of past times in the struggle here. It is oneof life and death--grim, earnest, and determined. On one sideis Philip with the hosts of Spain, the greatest power in Europe,determined to crush out the life of these poor provinces, to stampout the religion of the country, to leave not one man, woman, orchild alive who refuses to attend mass and to bow the knee beforethe Papist images; on the other side you have a poor people tenantinga land snatched from the sea, and held by constant and enduringlabour, equally determined that they will not abjure their religion,that they will not permit the Inquisition to be established amongthem, and ready to give lives and homes and all in the causeof religious liberty. They have no thought of throwing off theirallegiance to Spain, if Spain will but be tolerant. The Princeof Orange issues his orders and proclamations as the stadtholderand lieutenant of the king, and declares that he is warring forPhilip, and designs only to repel those who, by their persecutionand cruelty, are dishonouring the royal cause.
"This cannot go on forever, and in time the Netherlands will bedriven to entreat some other foreign monarch to take them under hisprotection. In this war there is no talk of glory. Men are fightingfor their religion, their homes, their wives and families. Theyknow that the Spaniards show neither quarter nor mercy, and thatit is scarce more than a question between death by the sword anddeath by torture and hanging. There is no mercy for prisoners. Thetown that yields on good conditions is sacked and destroyed as isone taken by storm, for in no case have the Spaniards observed theconditions they have made, deeming oaths taken to heretics to bein no way binding on their consciences.
"Thus, Ned, those who embark upon this war engage in a struggle inwhich there is no honour nor glory, nor fame nor reward to be won,but one in which almost certain death stares them in the face, andwhich, so far as I can see, can end only in the annihilation ofthe people of this country, or in the expulsion of the Spaniards.I do not say that there is no glory to be gained; but it is notpersonal glory. In itself, no cause was ever more glorious thanthat of men who struggle, not to conquer territory, not to gatherspoil, not to gratify ambition, but for freedom, for religion, forhearth and home, and to revenge the countless atrocities inflictedupon them by their oppressors. After what I have said, do you stillwish to embark upon this struggle?"
"I do wish it, father," Ned said firmly. "I desire it above allthings, if you and my mother can spare me."
Captain Martin then repeated to Ned the reasons that he had givenhis wife for consenting to his carrying out his wishes: the factthat there was no place for him at present on board the Good Venture,the oath of vengeance upon the Spaniards that he had taken, andhis impression that although he himself could not carry out thatoath, its weight had been transferred to his son, whose desire totake up the work he had intended to carry out, just at this moment,seemed to him to be a special design of Providence.
"Now Ned," he concluded, "you understand the reasons that swayme in giving my consent to your desire to do what you can for thecause of religion and liberty. I do not propose that you shouldat present actually take up arms that I question if you are strongenough to wield. I will pray the burgomaster to give you lettersof introduction to the Prince, saying you are a young Englishmanready and desirous of doing all that lies in your power for thecause; that you speak the language as a native, and will be readyto carry his messages wheresoever he may require them to be sent;that you can be relied upon to be absolutely faithful, and haveentered the cause in no light spirit or desire for personal creditor honour, but as one who has suffered great wrong in the loss ofnear relatives at the hands of the Spaniards, and is wishful onlyof giving such services as he can to the cause.
"It may be that coming with such recommendation the Prince willsee some way in which he can turn your services to account. And nowleave me, my boy. I am wearied with all this talking; and althoughI deem that it is not my duty to withstand your wishes, it is noslight trial to see my only son embark in so terrible and perilousan adventure as this. But the cause I regard as a sacred one, andit seems to me that I have no right to keep you from entering uponit, as your mind lies that way."
Ned left the room greatly impressed with his father's words. He wasglad indeed that the permission he had asked for had been granted,and that he was free to devote himself to the cause so dear tomost Englishmen, and doubly so to him from his relations with thecountry. Sailing backwards and forwards to the various ports inthe Netherlands, and able to hold intercourse with all he met, hehad for years been listening to tales of atrocity and horror, untilhe had come to regard the Spaniards as human monsters, and to longwith all his heart and strength to be able to join the oppressedpeople against their tyrants.
Now he had got permission to do so. But he felt more than he haddone before the serious nature of the step which he was taking; andalthough he did not for a moment regret the choice he had made, hewas conscious of its importance and of the solemn nature of theduties he took upon himself in thus engaging in the struggle betweenthe Netherlands and Spain. He passed the room where his mother wassitting, went over and kissed her, and then taking his cap passedout into the street and mounted the ramparts, where he could thinkundisturbed. His father's words had not shaken his determination,although they had depressed his enthusiasm; but as he paced up anddown, with the fresh air from the sea blowing upon his cheek, thefeeling of youth and strength soon sent the blood dancing throughhis veins again. His cheeks flushed, and his eyes brightened.
"There is honour and glory in the struggle," he said. "Did not thepeople, old and young, pour out to the Crusades to wrest Jerusalemfrom the hands of the infidels? This is a more glorious task. It isto save God's followers from destruction; to succour the oppressed;to fight for women and children as well as for men. It is a holierand nobler object than that for which the Crusaders fought. Theydied in hundreds of thousands by heat, by famine, thirst, and theswords of the enemy. Few of those who fought ever returned hometo reap glory for their deeds; but there was honour for those whofell. And in the same spirit in which even women and children lefttheir homes, and went in crowds to die for the Holy Sepulchre, sowill I venture my life for religion and freedom here."
An hour later he returned home; he could see that his mother hadbeen crying.
"Mother," he said, "I trust you will not grieve over this. I havebeen thinking how the women of the early days sent their husbandsand sons and lovers to fight for the Holy Sepulchre. I think thatthis cause is an even greater and more noble one; and feel surethat though you may be anxious, you will not grudge me to do mybest for our religion and country people."
"Truly I think it is a holy cause, my boy; and after what yourfather has said, I would not if I could say nay. I can only praythat heaven will bless and keep you, and one day restore you tome. But you will not be always fighting, Ned. There is no sayinghow long the struggle may last; and if I let you go, it is withthe promise that at one-and-twenty at the latest you will returnto us, and take your place again as your father's right hand andmine."
"I promise you, mother, that then, or if at any time before thatyou write and say to me come home, I will come."
"I am content with that," his mother said.
That afternoon Ned told Peters what had been decided, and thefollowing morning the latter had a long talk with Captain Martin,who directed him to apply to the other owners of the ship to appointhim an able first mate, and also to choose one of their clerks inwhom they had confidence to sail in the vessel as supercargo.
"The doctors tell me, Peters, that in two or three months I may beable to return home and to get about on crutches; but they adviseme that it will be at least another four months before I can strapon a wooden leg and trust my weight to it. When I can do that, Ishall see how I can get about. You heard from Ned last night thathe is going to ente
r as a sort of volunteer under the Prince ofOrange?"
"Yes, he told me, Captain Martin. He is a lad of spirit; and if Iwere fifteen years younger I would go with him."
"He is young for such work yet," Captain Martin said doubtfully.
"He is a strong youth, Captain Martin, and can do a man's work. Histraining at sea has made him steady and cool; and I warrant me, ifhe gets into danger, he will get out again if there is a chance.I only hope, Captain Martin, that the brush we have had with theSpaniards will not be our last, and that we too may be in the wayof striking a blow at the Spaniards."
"I hope that we may, Peters," Captain Martin said earnestly. "Mymind is as much bent upon it as is Ned's; and I will tell you whatmust at present be known only to yourself, that I have made up mymind that if I recover, and can take command of the Good Ventureagain, I will buy up the other shares, so that I can do what I likewith her without accounting to any man. I need not do so much onboard as I used to do, but will get you a good second mate, and willmyself only direct. Then we will, as at present, trade between Londonand the Netherlands; but if, as is likely enough, the Spaniardsand Hollanders come to blows at sea, or the prince needs ships tocarry troops to beleaguered towns, then for a time we will quittrading and will join with the Good Venture, and strike a blow atsea."
"That is good hearing, Captain Martin," Peters said, rubbing hishands. "I warrant me you will not find one of the crew backwardat that work, and for my part I should like nothing better than totackle a Spaniard who does not carry more than two or three timesour own strength. The last fellow was a good deal too big for us,but I believe if we had stuck to him we should have beaten him inthe end, big as he was."
"Perhaps we might, Peters; but the ship was not mine to risk then,and we had cargo on board. If, in the future, we meet a Spaniardwhen the ship is mine to venture, and our hold is clear, the GoodVenture shall not show him her stern I warrant you, unless he bebig enough to eat us."
On the following day the Good Venture set sail for England, and theburgomaster having received a message from Captain Martin, prayinghim to call upon him, paid him a visit. Captain Martin unfolded hisson's plans to him, and prayed him to furnish him with a letter tothe prince recommending him as one who might be trusted, and whowas willing to risk his life upon any enterprise with which hemight intrust him. This the burgomaster at once consented to do.
"Younger lads than he," he said, "have fought stoutly on the wallsof some of our towns against the Spaniards; and since such is hiswish, I doubt not he will be able to do good service. All Hollandhas heard how your ship beat off the Don Pedro; and the fact thatthe lad is your son, and took part in the fight, will at oncecommend him to the prince. All Englishmen are gladly received; notonly because they come to fight as volunteers on our side, but asa pledge that the heart of England is with us, and that sooner orlater she will join us in our struggle against Spain. And doubtless,as you say, the fact that the lad is by his mother's side one ofus, and that he can converse in both our language and yours withequal ease, is greatly in his favour. Tomorrow I will furnish himwith letters to the prince, and also to two or three gentlemen ofmy acquaintances, who are in the prince's councils."
When the burgomaster had left, Captain Martin called Ned in.
"Now, you are going as a volunteer, Ned, and for a time, at anyrate, there must be no question of pay; you are giving your servicesand not selling them. In the first place you must procure properattire, in which to present yourself to the prince; you must alsopurchase a helmet, breast and back pieces, with sword and pistols.As for money, I shall give you a purse with sufficient for yourpresent needs, and a letter which you can present to any of themerchants in the seaports with whom we have trade, authorizing youto draw upon me, and praying them to honour your drafts. Do notstint yourself of money, and do not be extravagant. Your needswill be small, and when serving in a garrison or in the field youwill, of course, draw rations like others. I need not give you alist of the merchants in the various towns, since you already knowthem, and have been with me at many of their places of business.
"In regard to your actions, I say to you do not court danger, butdo not avoid it. The cause is a good one, and you are risking yourlife for it; but remember also that you are an only son, and thereare none to fill your place if you fall. Therefore be not rash;keep always cool in danger, and if there is a prospect of escapeseize it promptly. Remember that your death can in no way benefitHolland, while your life may do so; therefore do not from anymistaken sense of heroism throw away your life in vain defence, whenall hope of success is over, but rather seek some means of escapeby which, when all is lost, you can manage to avoid the vengeanceof the Spaniards. I fear that there will be many defeats beforesuccess can be obtained, for there is no union among the variousstates or cities.
"Holland and Zeeland alone seem in earnest in the cause, thoughFriesland and Guelderland will perhaps join heartily; but theseprovinces alone are really Protestant, in the other the Catholicspredominate, and I fear they will never join heartily in resistanceto Spain. How this narrow strip of land by the sea is to resistall the power of Spain I cannot see; but I believe in the peopleand in their spirit, and am convinced that sooner than fall againinto the grasp of the Inquisition they will open the sluices andlet the sea in over the country they have so hardly won from it,and will embark on board ship and seek in some other country thatliberty to worship God in their own way that is denied them here."
It was not necessary to purchase many articles of clothing, forthe dress of the people of Holland differed little from that of theEnglish. Ned bought a thick buff jerkin to wear under his armour,and had little difficulty in buying steel cap, breast and back piece,sword and pistols; for the people of Holland had not as yet begunto arm generally, and many of the walls were defended by burghersin their citizen dress, against the mail clad pikemen of Spain.
Three days later Ned took a tearful farewell of his family, andset sail in a small vessel bound for Rotterdam, where the Princeof Orange at present was. The voyage was made without adventure,and upon landing Ned at once made his way to the house occupied bythe prince. There were no guards at the gate, or any sign of martialpomp. The door stood open, and when Ned entered a page accostedhim and asked his business.
"I have letters for the prince," he said, "which I pray you to handto him when he is at leisure."
"In that case you would have to wait long," the page replied,"for the prince is at work from early morning until late at night.However, he is always open of access to those who desire to seehim, therefore if you will give me the name of the writer of theletter you bear I will inform him, and you can then deliver ityourself." A minute later Ned was shown into the presence of theman who was undoubtedly the foremost of his age.
Born of a distinguished family, William of Orange had been broughtup by a pious mother, and at the age of twelve had become a page inthe family of the Emperor Charles. So great was the boy's ability,that at fifteen he had become the intimate and almost confidentialfriend of the emperor, who was a keen judge of merit.
Before he reached the age of twenty-one he was named commander inchief of the army on the French frontier. When the Emperor Charlesresigned, the prince was appointed by Philip to negotiate a treatywith France, and had conducted these negotiations with extreme ability.The prince and the Duke of Alva remained in France as hostages forthe execution of the treaty. Alva was secretly engaged in arrangingan agreement between Philip and Henry for the extirpation ofProtestantism, and the general destruction of all those who heldthat faith. The French king, believing that the Prince of Orangewas also in the secret, spoke to him one day when out hunting freelyon the subject, and gave him all the details of the understandingthat had been entered into for a general massacre of the Protestantsthroughout the dominions of France and Spain.
The Prince of Orange neither by word or look indicated that allthis was new to him, and the king remained in ignorance of howcompletely he had betrayed the plans of himself and Phili
p. Itwas his presence of mind and reticence, while listening to thisastounding relation, that gained for the Prince of Orange the titleof William the Silent. Horror struck at the plot he had discovered,the prince from that moment threw himself into the cause of theProtestants of the Netherlands, and speedily became the head of themovement, devoting his whole property and his life to the object.So far it had brought him only trials and troubles.
His estate and that of his brothers had been spent in the service;he had incurred enormous debts; the armies of German mercenarieshe had raised had met with defeat and ruin; the people of theNetherlands, crushed down with the apathy of despair, had not lifteda finger to assist the forces that had marched to their aid. Itwas only when, almost by an accident, Brill had been captured bythe sea beggars, that the spark he had for so many years been tryingto fan, burst into flame in the provinces of Holland and Zeeland.
The prince had been sustained through his long and hitherto fruitlessstruggle by a deep sense of religion. He believed that God was withhim, and would eventually save the people of the Netherlands fromthe fate to which Philip had doomed them. And yet though an ardentProtestant, and in an age when Protestants were well nigh as bigotedas Catholics, and when the idea of religious freedom had scarceentered into the minds of men, the prince was perfectly tolerant,and from the first insisted that in all the provinces over whichhe exercised authority, the same perfect freedom of worship shouldbe granted to the Catholics that he claimed for the Protestants inthe Catholic states of the Netherlands.
He had not always been a Protestant. When appointed by Philipstadtholder of Holland, Friesland, and Utrecht he had been a moderateCatholic. But his thoughts were but little turned to religioussubjects, and it was as a patriot and a man of humane nature thathe had been shocked at the discovery that he had made, of thedetermination of the kings of France and Spain to extirpate theProtestants. He used this knowledge first to secretly urge thepeople of the Netherlands to agitate for the removal of the Spanishtroops from the country; and although he had secret instructionsfrom Philip to enforce the edicts against all heretics with vigour,he avoided doing so as much as was in his power, and sent privatewarnings to many whom he knew to be in danger of arrest.
As Governor of the Netherlands at the age of twenty-six, he wasrich, powerful, and of sovereign rank. He exercised a splendidhospitality, and was universally beloved by the whole community forthe charm of his manner and his courtesy to people of all ranks.Even at this period the property which he had inherited fromhis father, and that he had received with his first wife, Anne ofEgmont, the richest heiress of the Netherlands, had been seriouslyaffected by his open handed hospitality and lavish expenditure.His intellect was acknowledged to be of the highest class. He hadextraordinary adroitness and capacity for conducting state affairs.His knowledge of human nature was profound. He had studied deeply,and spoke and wrote with facility Latin, French, German, Flemish,and Spanish.
The epithet Silent was in no way applicable to his general character.He could be silent when speech was dangerous, but at other timeshe was a most cheerful and charming companion, and in public themost eloquent orator and the most brilliant controversialist of hisage. Thirteen years had passed since then, thirteen years spentin incessant troubles and struggles. The brilliant governor ofPhilip in the Netherlands had for years been an exile; the carelessCatholic had become an earnest and sincere Protestant; the wealthynoble had been harassed with the pecuniary burdens he had undertakenin order to raise troops for the rescue of his countrymen.
He had seen his armies defeated, his plans overthrown, his countrymenmassacred by tens of thousands, his co-religionists burnt, hung,and tortured, and it was only now that the spirit of resistancewas awakening among his countrymen. But misfortune and trial hadnot soured his temper; his faith that sooner or later the causewould triumph had never wavered. His patience was inexhaustible,his temper beyond proof. The incapacity of many in whom he hadtrusted, the jealousies and religious differences which preventedanything like union between the various states, the narrownessand jealousy even of those most faithful to the cause, would havedriven most men to despair.
Upon his shoulders alone rested the whole weight of the struggle.It was for him to plan and carry out, to negotiate with princes,to organize troops, to raise money, to compose jealousies, to rousethe lukewarm and appeal to the waverers. Every detail, great andsmall, had to be elaborated by him. So far it was not the Netherlands,it was William of Orange alone who opposed himself to the might ofthe greatest power in Europe.
Such was the prince to whom Ned Martin was now introduced, and it waswith a sense of the deepest reverence that he entered the chamber.He saw before him a man looking ten years older than he reallywas; whose hair was grizzled and thin from thought and care, whosenarrow face was deeply marked by the lines of anxiety and trouble,but whose smile was as kindly, whose manner as kind and graciousas that which had distinguished it when William was the brilliantyoung stadtholder of the Emperor Philip.
