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CHAPTER XIV
THE CONFLICT IN THE NETHERLANDS

DESCRIPTION OF HOLLAND—A LAND OF REFUGE—TYRANNY OF ALVA—THE STRUGGLE FOR INDEPENDENCE—SIEGE OF LEYDEN—THE COUNTRY SUBMERGED—FAMINE IN THE CITY—SPEECH OF THE MAYOR—HEROIC CONDUCT—TRUST IN GOD—STORM RAISES THE WATERS—SPANIARDS RETREAT—LEYDEN IS SAVED—THANKSGIVING—WATERS RETIRE.

In a previous chapter have been described the circumstances which led to the colonization of Acadia and New England.

While these events were transpiring in old England and New England, others of scarcely less importance were occurring in Holland, or the Netherlands, as it is frequently called, and in its colony of New Netherlands. It is a fact too frequently forgotten, that at least three of the thirteen original states were colonized by Holland. It is true Pennsylvania and Delaware received a few colonists from Sweden and Finland, who had settled there to escape religious persecution; but their dominions in the new world were not of long duration. To Holland and England belong the chief glory of colonizing the lands embraced in the United Colonies of 1776. The country now embraced in the states of New York, New Jersey and Delaware, received the name of New Netherlands, and like the inhabitants of New England, they were for the most part a religious people.

During the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries Holland had been the refuge of exiles from many lands. When John Huss and Jerome of Prague fell under papal vengeance, many of their followers there found a home. When the fury of persecution was raging against the Waldenses, many of them fled to Holland for protection. After the terrible massacre of the French protestants or Huguenots, as they were called, in 1572, many of them took refuge in the Netherlands. This liberty-loving population was the cause of that deadly hatred manifested toward them by the Duke of Alva. This insatiate monster, during his brief administration, caused more than eighteen thousand persons to perish by the hand of the executioner. His cruelties at length aroused the indignation of the people, and brought about those notable events so well described by the historian, Motley, in his Rise of the Dutch Republic. This contest was one of the most memorable in the history of the human race, for in it was clearly shown the wonderful providence of God.

Holland, as is well known, is a low, flat country, so low, in fact, that the inhabitants have been obliged to build dykes, or embankments of earth, along the coast, in order to protect the country from the waters of the ocean during high tides and storms. Were it not for this precaution, Holland would frequently present the appearance of a vast, shallow bay or lake, thickly studded with orchards dwellings and cities half submerged in the water.

At this time Holland was under the dominion of Spain. The tyranny of Alva, the governor, provoked the people to resistance, and King Philip sent an army from Spain to enforce submission. Rather than longer endure this oppression, the brave Hollanders resolved to achieve their independence or perish in the attempt. The fortifications of their country were few, but, in one respect, they held the keys of the ocean. They opened the flood-gates of the dykes and prepared to submerge the country when the first storm should come. Meanwhile the Spaniards were besieging Leyden, and if that city fell, the conquest of the country would inevitably follow. The Hollanders well knew that the ocean would damage their fields and destroy their growing crops, but they preferred the chances of starvation to an indiscriminate massacre.

Leyden was situated twenty miles inland. It was impossible to bring Leyden to the ocean. They prayed that God would aid their efforts to bring the ocean to Leyden. Meantime the besieged city was at its last gasp. At the dawn of each day the brave defenders turned their eyes toward the vanes of the church steeples, that they might ascertain the direction of the wind. So long as an easterly wind prevailed, they felt that they must look in vain for the welcome ocean. Yet, while thus patiently waiting, they were literally starving. Such was the condition of Leyden on the 11th of September, 1574. The commander of the Dutch fleet, Admiral Boisot, had constructed a number of flat boats, by which he hoped to be able to bring provisions and munitions of war to the besieged city. But a week elapsed after the opening of the dykes, and no storm nor high tide had come to force the ocean inland. The flotilla of boats now lay motionless in shallow water, having accomplished less than two miles. Everything wore a gloomy aspect; still the hearts of the patriots were lifted to God in prayer. On the 18th the wind shifted to the north-west, and for three days blew a gale. The waters rose rapidly, and before the second was closed, the flat boats were again afloat. Onward the boats flew before the breeze, and soon arrived at the villages of Zoetermeer and Benthuyzen. A strong force of Spaniards were stationed at each place, but they were astonished to see these brave and liberty-loving men, sailing on a sea, where a few hours before, was dry and solid land. Some of their officers even asked in amazement, "was it true that God and the elements were going to fight against them?" Few things are more appalling to the imagination than the rising ocean tide, when man feels himself within its power. The Spanish soldiers saw the waters deepening and closing around them, and, as it were, devouring the earth beneath their feet, while on the waves rode a flotilla, manned by a liberty-loving and determined race, whose courage was known throughout the world. No wonder the Spaniards were seized with a panic and fled precipitately. Behind them came the roaring tide; and thousands sank beneath the deepening flood. In a few hours the flotilla had arrived at North Aa, from whence Admiral Boiset sent, on September 28th, a carrier pigeon with a letter of encouragement to the famished inhabitants of Leyden.

As time passed on, the mortality in the city became frightful. Mothers dropped dead in the streets with their dead children in their arms. A terrible plague, engendered by hardships and famine, was sweeping away the people like grass before the scythe. From six 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 the foreign foe—an evil more horrible than pest or famine. The heroism of the Hollanders towered to sublimity. True a few of the faint-hearted one day assailed the mayor of Leyden, the heroic Adrian Van der Werf, with threats and reproaches as he passed through the streets. He stepped to one side and mounted the steps of the church of St. Pancras. There he stood, a tall, haggard, imposing figure, with dark visage, and a tranquil, but commanding eye. He waved his broad-brimmed hat for silence, and then exclaimed: "What would ye, my friends? Why do ye murmur that we do not break our vows and surrender the city to the Spaniards?—a fate more horrible than the agony which 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 hands, the enemy's, or by the hand of God. My own fate is indifferent to me, not so that of the city entrusted to my care. I know that we shall starve if not soon relieved; but starvation is preferable to the dishonored death which is our only alternative. Your 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."

The words of the firm, old mayor, inspired a new courage in the hearts of those who heard him, and a shout of applause and defiance arose from the famishing, but enthusiastic crowd. After exchanging new vows of fidelity with their magistrate, they left the place and again ascended tower and battlement to watch for the coming fleet.

From the ramparts they hurled renewed defiance at the enemy. "Ye call us rat-eaters and dog-eaters," they cried, "and it is true. So long then, as ye hear dog bark, or cat mew, within the walls of the city, ye may know that it still holds out. And when all has perished but ourselves, be sure that we will each devour our left arms, retaining our right to defend our women, our liberty and our religion, against the foreign tyrant. Should God, in His providence, deny us all relief, even then will we maintain ourselves against your entrance. When the last hour has come, with our own hands we will set fire to the city and perish, men, women and children, together in the flames, rather than suffer our homes to be polluted and our liberties to be crushed."

The Spaniards shouted back derisively: "As well can the prince of Orange pluck down the stars from the sky as bring the ocean to the walls of Leyden for your relief." But they had forgotten that "prayer moves the arm that moves the world;" that He, whom the winds and seas obey, and who holds the tempests as in the hollow of his hand, had heard the cry of that patient and persecuted people, and was sending the darkness and the storm, to sweep away their enemies as with the besom of destruction.

When the stoutest hearts began to fail, the tempest came again to their relief. A violent gale, on the night of the 1st of October, came storming from the north-west, shifting after a few hours, and then blowing still more violently from the south-west. The waters of the North sea were piled in vast masses upon the southern coast, and then dashed furiously land-ward. The waters rose higher than ever before known, and swept with unobstructed fury across the ruined dykes. The fleet of flat-boats at North Aa, was no longer stranded. At midnight, amidst the storm and darkness, Admiral Boisot gave orders to advance. A few sentinels challenged them as they swept by the village of Zoeterwoude. The answer was a flash from Boisot's cannon, lighting the dark, wild waste of waters. Then came a fierce naval midnight battle. It was a strange spectacle among the branches of those quiet orchards and chimney stacks of half submerged farm-houses. Swiftly the fleet sailed on over the waters between Zoeterwoude and Zwieten. As they approached shallows the sailors dashed into the sea and literally shouldered the vessels through. These forts and that of Lammen might have proved serious obstacles, had not the panic, which had hitherto driven their foes before the advancing patriots, come again to their relief.

A long procession of lights was seen to flit across the black face of the waters, in the dead of night. The Spaniards had fled precipitately along a road which led in a westerly direction toward the Hague. Their narrow path was rapidly vanishing in the waves, and hundreds sank in the constantly deepening flood, to rise no more.

The morning dawned, but all was calm and still around the city of Leyden. The hand of God which had sent the ocean and the tempest for her deliverance, had likewise struck her enemies with terror. The lights which had been seen during the night, were lanterns of the retreating Spaniards. The succoring fleet sailed victoriously into the city on the morning of the 3rd of October, 1574. Bread was freely given to the poor creatures, who for months had tasted no wholesome human food. When the admiral stepped on shore a procession was formed consisting of citizens, sailors, soldiers, women and children. They repaired to the great cathedral; and they who had been firm in their resistance to an earthly tyrant, now bowed in humble gratitude before the King of kings. After prayers the whole, vast congregation, joined in the thanksgiving hymn. Thousands of voices raised the song, but few were able to carry it to its conclusion, for the universal emotion, deepened by the music, became too full for utterance. The hymn was abruptly suspended while the multitude wept like children.

"On the following day, the 4th of October, the wind shifted to the north-east, and again blew a tempest. It was as if the waters, having now done their work, had been rolled back to the ocean by an Omnipotent hand, for in the course of a few days the land was bare again, and the work of reconstructing the dykes commenced."

From this terrible ordeal came out many illustrious characters. Its results tended to civil and religious liberty, as well as the great principle of federal union which has since been carried out to such a wonderful extent. These principles the Dutch emigrants brought with them; and when a few years afterwards their settlements fell into the hands of the English they were already assimilated to the ideas prevailing in the New England colonies.

CHAPTER XV
EARLY COLONIAL HISTORY

RISE OF QUAKERISM—GEORGE FOX—WILLIAM PENN—FOUNDS PENNSYLVANIA—KINDNESS TO THE INDIANS—PHILADELPHIA FOUNDED—MARYLAND, CAROLINA AND GEORGIA SETTLED—ROGER WILLIAMS—RHODE ISLAND FOUNDED—ITS TOLERATION.

The history of Pennsylvania as a distinct colony began in 1682. Its founder, William Penn, was the son of Admiral Penn, who had gained many victories for England and enjoyed the favor of the king, as well as of the great statesmen of his time. At this time there was in England a numerous sect called Quakers. Some of their principles were true, and most of them were far in advance of the opinions generally entertained in that age.

The rise of the people called Quakers is one of the memorable events in the history of man. It marks the moment when intellectual freedom was claimed by the people as an inalienable right. The sect had its birth in a period of intense national activity, when zeal for reform was invading all ranks of society, and even subverting the throne. Its creed was summed up in one short phrase, "The inner light or voice of God in the soul." Their leader, George Fox, professed to have visions from heaven. Having listened to the revelation which had been made to his soul, he thirsted for a reform in every branch of learning. The physician and the scientist should quit their strife of unintelligible words and solve the appearances of nature by an intimate study of the laws of being. The lawyers should abandon their deceit and seek to establish justice among men according to the teachings of the Savior. And the priests should cease to preach for hire, and seek God in prayer as the oracle of all truth.

No wonder there was a great commotion. In Lancaster, forty priests appeared against him at once. Nothing could daunt his enthusiasm. When cast into jail among felons, he claimed of the public tribunals a release, only to continue his exertions. If cruelly beaten, or set in the stocks, or ridiculed as mad, he none the less proclaimed the principles of his faith. When driven from the church, he preached in the open air; when refused shelter at a private dwelling or humble tavern, he slept without fear under a haystack.

His fame increased; crowds gathered like flocks of pigeons to hear him. His voice and frame in prayer are described as the most awful and reverent ever felt or seen. His clear convictions and glowing thoughts delivered in plain words made him powerful among the masses and the terror of the priests in public discussions to which he defied the world. By degrees "the hypocrites," as the historian Barclay called them, feared to dispute with him. The simplicity of the truth he uttered and the plainness of his speech found such ready acceptance among the people, "that the priests trembled and scud as he drew near, so that it was a dreadful thing to them when it was told them, 'The man in leathern breeches is come.'"

Far from rejecting Christianity, the Quakers insisted that they alone followed its primitive simplicity. They believed in the unity of truth; that there can be no contradiction between correct reason and revelation; and that the Holy Spirit is the guide that leads into all truth. The Quakers read the Bible not with idolatry but with delight, for in there own souls they had a testimony that it was true. "The scriptures," says Barclay, "are not religion but a record of it; a declaration of the fountain, but not the fountain itself." In reading a record of those times it might appear to one that God was then ready to restore His Priesthood and set up His kingdom on the earth. But mankind were not yet ready nor was there a fit place in all the inhabited countries of the world for its establishment.

The well-known William Penn joined this sect, and by this act greatly provoked his father's displeasure. Like Moses of old he refused the favors and honors of the monarch, choosing rather to obey what he considered to be the truth than to enjoy all the pomp and pleasures of the world. Space will not permit us to relate the story of his sufferings while an exile from his father's home; how he traveled to and fro on the continent of Europe, from the Weser to the Main, from the Rhine to the Danube, distributing tracts, preaching to princes and to peasants, and rebuking every attempt to enthrall the mind of man. Before he had reached the age of twenty-five, he had thrice suffered unjust imprisonment. To the king's messenger, who asked him to recant, he heroically replied, "Club-law may make hypocrites, it never can make converts" Single handed and alone he plead his cause before the highest courts of England. In vain did wicked men endeavor to construe the laws of England to his injury. After a tedious trial he was at length acquitted, though the jurymen were fined forty marks apiece for not bringing in a verdict of guilty. His constancy called forth the admiration of his father. "Son William," said the dying admiral, "if you and your friends keep to your plain way of preaching and living, you will make an end of the priests."

At the admiral's death, William succeeded to his father's possessions. It deeply grieved him that his Quaker brethren should endure such wrongs as were continually heaped upon them. He, therefore, formed the design of leading them forth to America. The king had owed Penn's father sixteen thousand pounds, nearly equal to eighty thousand dollars of our money. Penn offered to relinquish this claim for a grant of land; and the king readily bestowed upon him a vast region, stretching west from the river Delaware, to which was given the name of Pennsylvania. Here Penn proposed to found a state, free and self-governing. He claimed it to be his highest ambition "to make men as free and happy as they can be." When he arrived, he proclaimed to the people that he wished them to be governed by laws of their own making. He was as good as his word. The people elected their own representatives by whom a constitution was framed, and Penn signed this charter of their liberties.

Penn also dealt justly and kindly with the Indians, and they showed a love for him such as they bestowed on no other Englishman. Soon after his arrival, he invited the chief men of the Indian tribes to a conference. The meeting took place beneath a huge elm-tree. The ancient forest had long given way to the houses and streets of Philadelphia; but a monument still points out to the stranger the scene of this interview. They met, Penn assured them, "on the broad pathway of good faith and good will. All was to be openness and love." And Penn meant what he said. Strong in the power of truth and kindness, he bent the fierce savages of the Delaware tribe to his will. They vowed to live in love with William Penn and his children as long as the moon and the sun should endure. Long years after, aged Indians were accustomed to come from the distant forests and recount with deep emotion the words that Penn had spoken to them under the old elm-tree.

The fame of Penn's settlements went abroad in all lands. An asylum was opened for the good and oppressed of every nation. Grave and God-fearing men from all the Protestant countries of Europe sought a home where they might live as conscience taught them.

 
"For here the exiles met from every clime,
And spoke in friendship every distant tongue;
Men, from the blood of warring Europe sprung,
Were but divided by the running brook;
And happy where no Rhenish trumpet sung,
The blue-eyed German changed his sword to pruning-hook."
 

The new colony grew apace. During the first year twenty-two vessels arrived, bringing two thousand persons. In three years Philadelphia was a town of six hundred houses.

Thus did Penn prove himself a benefactor to his race. May we not also consider him an instrument in the hands of God for the execution of His purposes?

Meanwhile Maryland had been colonized by Catholics under Lord Baltimore, in 1634. The first colonists were exiles who fled here to escape persecution in their native land. Let it also be said to their credit that they were the first who embodied in their laws complete religious toleration.

A few scattering colonists had settled within the boundaries of the Carolinas as early as 1653, and these colonies also became a refuge for the Huguenots of France.

Lastly Georgia was colonized, in 1732, by the English philanthropist James Oglethorpe; and it also became an asylum and a refuge for the deserving poor.

Had these states been colonized immediately after the discovery of America, they must inevitably have brought with them the institutions of Catholic Europe. Such, for example, as still characterize the civilization of Mexico. Even had they been colonized a century earlier, the colonists would not have been disciplined sufficiently in the principles of civil liberty to have built up free and self-governing states.

Who does not see a divine providence—a marvelous wisdom in all this?

Though the pilgrims had left their native lands, that they might enjoy the liberty to worship God in the way which they deemed right; yet they had not discovered that people who differed from them were as well entitled to be tolerated as they themselves were. Simple as it seems there are many to this day who have not found out that every one is entitled to think for himself.

One day there stepped ashore at Boston, a young man named Roger Williams. He was a man of culture and refinement, a lover of truth and justice, a man of rare virtue and power. He had been an intimate friend of Cromwell and Milton, in the bright days of the poet's youth. Williams brought to America what was then considered strange opinions. Long thought had satisfied him that "in regard to religious belief and worship man is responsible to God alone."

New England society was not sufficiently advanced to receive such sentiments. Williams had become minister at Salem where he was held in high esteem. In time his opinions drew upon him the unfavorable notice of the authorities; and he was brought to trial before the general court of Massachusetts. His townsmen and congregation deserted him. His poor wife reproached him bitterly for the evil he was bringing on his family. Still he was firm and continued to testify against the soul-oppression he saw around him. At length the court declared him guilty and pronounced against him the sentence of banishment. All honor to this brave and good man! He, of all the men of his time, saw most clearly the beauty of absolute freedom in matters of conscience. He cheerfully left his home and wandered in the wilderness. During the part of one winter he lived with Massasoit, the Indian chief, who befriended him and gave him a grant of land, now included in the state of Rhode Island. Here he laid out a city which he called Providence, in grateful recognition of the power which had guided his steps. To-day it is one of the most beautiful and thrifty cities in the United States.

Roger Williams cherished a very forgiving spirit towards those who sent him into exile. Learning that the Indians were planning the destruction of the Massachusetts colony, he boldly went among the Indians and dissuaded them from their purpose. Thus did this good man put his life in peril for his enemies.

Providence Plantation, as it was called, became a shelter for all who were distressed for conscience sake; and so it has continued to the present time. Rhode Island has no record of persecution in her history. Massachusetts continued to drive out misbelievers. Rhode Island took them in. When Massachusetts was convulsed with supposed witchcraft and the horrors of witch-burning, Rhode Island gave no heed to such delusions. In after years, Roger Williams became the president of the colony which he had founded.

The neighboring states were at that time severely punishing the Quakers with the lash, branding-iron and imprisonment; and they invited Rhode Island to join in the persecution. Mr. Williams replied that he "had no law to punish any man for his belief." He was opposed to the doctrines of the Quakers. In his seventy-third year he rowed thirty miles in an open boat to wage a public debate against them. In this manner, and this only, would he resist the progress of opinions which he deemed pernicious. Thus to the end of his life stood forth this good man's loyalty to the absolute liberty of the human conscience. From the foregoing, we may get some idea of the moral and social condition of England and her colonies during the latter part of the seventeenth century.