His decease brought about a revolution in the United Provinces. He left no one of his family to take his place. His only child was not born until a week after his death. The Province of Holland straightway seized the opportunity to assert that predominance in the Union for which it had been striving so long. Its leaders at once took steps to call an extraordinary assembly, known as the 'Great Gathering', to take into consideration the state of the Union, of religion, and military affairs. The Great Gathering met at the Hague, January 18, 1651. The office of Stadholder was abolished, in all the provinces but Friesland, as were also the posts of Captain-General and Admiral-General of the Union. The population and the wealth of Holland gave henceforth to the States of that province a position of supremacy in the federation, and, as in the days of Oldenbarneveldt, all the threads of administration and the conduct of foreign affairs passed during the Stadholderless period into the hands of its chief functionary, the Raad-Pensionaris or Grand Pensionary.
This complete change in the system of government of the United Provinces caused much satisfaction in London. The aristocratic burgher oligarchy, who were now in power at the Hague, had no special sympathy for Charles II. Indeed it was embittered against him at this time, since Prince Rupert's ships from their head-quarters in the Scilly Islands had been plundering Dutch merchantmen in their passage up channel. The Parliament therefore determined to send a special embassy to propose that close alliance between the two neighbouring republics, almost amounting to a political union, which Cromwell had already set before him as an end to be aimed at for the mutual advantage of both States. The States-General on their side had, on the proposal of the States of Holland, determined, January 28, 1651, to recognize the English Commonwealth as a free republic, and to receive its envoys, and Joachimi again went to London to take up his old post as the resident ambassador of the States.
The English ambassadors were Oliver St. John and Walter Strickland, the latter of whom, as we have seen, had spent many years in Holland without being able to obtain an audience with the States-General. The Parliament were now determined that their representatives should make their state entry into the Hague with a splendour befitting the envoys of so mighty a power. They were accompanied by a suite of some 250 persons in brilliant uniforms and liveries, and travelled in twenty-five state coaches. On March 27, 1651, the solemn entry took place. The ambassadors were, however, to pass through the ordeal of an unpleasant experience. As the procession made its way through the crowded streets, St. John and Strickland were greeted with loud cries of 'Regicides', 'Executioners', 'Cromwell's bastards', and other abusive epithets. No doubt there were many royalist refugees in the Hague, but though these may have given the lead to the mob, there can be little question of the general hostility at this time of the masses of the people, even in Holland itself, to the Parliament. It is a common mistake to suppose that the Orangist was the aristocratic, the republican, or so-called 'States' party, the popular party in the United Provinces. The States of Holland, which was the stronghold of the republican party, was entirely in the hands of the close oligarchic corporations of the chief towns of the province. In each town a few aristocratic burgher families monopolized all offices and authority, the rest of the townsmen had no votes or representation, and the country people were ignored altogether. The great influence and executive powers of the Stadholders of the house of Orange were therefore a check upon the domination of these burgher oligarchies, and so by them resented accordingly. On the other hand, the Princes of Orange were loved and respected by the people, alike for their high qualities and the great services they had rendered to the country, and there was scarcely any time when they had not the enthusiastic support of the great majority of those classes, the bulk of the population, who were excluded from any share in the government of the State. A knowledge of these facts is absolutely necessary to a right understanding of what the 'Stadholderless' régime in the time of John de Witt really meant.
The parliamentary ambassadors were really alarmed, remembering the fate of Doreslaar, at this hostile reception. Neither they nor their attendants dared to venture into the streets but in parties of five or six and sword in hand; and everywhere they were followed by the cry of 'Regicides'. On March 29, St. John and Strickland presented their credentials before the 'Great Gathering', and in a long speech expressed the desire of the English Government for the establishment of good relations of enduring friendship between the two republics. 'It is the wish of the Parliament to conclude', they said, 'a closer union of the two States, which would be for both more advantageous than heretofore, since it would not be dependent upon the life and will and private interests of a single individual.' Six commissioners were appointed by the Assembly to discuss their proposals, and a conference was opened on April 4. The grounds on which the English proposed to the Netherlanders that 'a more strict and intimate Alliance and Union bee entred into by them, whereby there may bee a more intrinsecall and mutual interest of each other, than hath hitherto beene for the good of both', were: (1) community of religion, (2) community of political liberty, (3) community of interest in freedom of trade and navigation. The Dutch, however, showed themselves very wary. They had no intention of giving their consent to any general propositions before informing themselves of their precise meaning. There was considerable variety of opinion in the different provinces and much indecision. On April 6, the commissioners were only empowered to reply, that the States were willing 'not only to renew the ancient friendship between the two nations, but also to conclude a treaty for common interests'. This response did not satisfy the English envoys, who rejoined that 'the union for common interests' they had in view 'was one closer than at any previous time'. These words required explanation, but it seemed that they could only point to an alliance so intimate and binding as to be another term for coalition. Such was indeed its meaning in the minds of those who proposed it, and so the Dutch interpreted it. To them, however, not unnaturally, the only idea suggested by a coalition with the English Commonwealth was the loss by the smaller republic of its independence, and its practical absorption in the larger. Such an idea was simply unthinkable to men who had just won the recognition of their independence after eighty years of heroic struggle. The reply of the Assembly was not hurriedly given. At last, on April 26, it came, and was so far unsatisfactory that, while expressing their readiness for a closer union, the reservation was made that it must be one 'in which both States could better promote their interests for themselves and for the common welfare'. St. John and Strickland now went a step further, and gave a hint that if an offensive and defensive confederation such as they had in mind could be accomplished, it would be accompanied by many advantageous concessions to the Dutch. At this point the negotiations came to an end. The Parliament did not believe that in the present temper of the Dutch their proposals were likely to be received in the spirit in which they were offered, and the ambassadors were recalled. They and their attendants were constantly insulted by Royalists and Orangists whenever they showed themselves out of doors, and though the provincial authorities strictly forbade such outrages on pain of severe penalties, and urged the citizens to assist in the protection of the representatives of a foreign power, they effected little. Some of the offenders were of high rank[48], and they openly braved the threats of the magistracy and remained unpunished. Earnest representations were now made to the English Parliament on behalf of the States of Holland by their agent, Gerard Schaep, who was still residing in London, that they would allow the envoys of the Commonwealth to remain awhile longer and continue the negotiations. The Parliament, however, would only consent to do this on condition that full satisfaction be made to St. John and Strickland for all that they had endured, and that the attacks upon them should cease. The States of Holland promised to do this. Prince Edward of the Palatine and other prominent offenders were summoned before a court of justice, and warned; some of their servants were punished. It was a sorry piece of business. But it was an index to the real feeling of the populace that such a state of things should have been possible in a town like the Hague.
The negotiations were accordingly renewed by the presentation of fresh proposals, May 10, by St. John and Strickland. There was now no mention of coalition, only of an offensive and defensive alliance, but there was an ominous addition: both States were required to bind themselves severally not to permit the sojourn on their soil of declared enemies of the other. This was especially directed against the adherents of the Stuarts and the members of the Orange and Palatinate families. The great desire of the party now in power in the Netherlands was the maintenance of peace. The Hollanders were willing to conclude a treaty extending their trade privileges, but they were anxious not to be drawn into the war in Scotland, and in face of the popular affection for the house of Orange they dared not venture at the dictation of a foreign power to treat the young prince and his mother harshly. They responded therefore, after some delay, by counter proposals for the renewal of the Treaty of 1496, the Magnus Intercursus, but revised in favour of the Dutch to suit present-day conditions. Complete freedom of trade, navigation, and fishery without pass, toll, or other hindrances in each other's domains was what was aimed at. No mention was made of the English proposal to banish from the Netherlands those who gave help to the Stuart cause. With such differences of view there was of course no prospect of any agreement being reached. The English embassy accordingly left the Hague, July 31, 1651, and returned home.
The report made to Parliament created a bad impression in England, and led to all the old complaints against the Dutch being raked up once more: the massacre of Amboina, the seizure of Pulo Run and other high-handed acts in the East Indies, their monopoly of the fisheries on the British coasts, their attacks on the English whalers off Spitzbergen, and their attempts to drive out English trade from the Baltic, from Russia, and elsewhere. Then on the top of this the shameful treatment to which the parliamentary envoys had been persistently exposed was angrily recalled, the refusal of the States-General for years to admit Strickland to an audience, the murder of Doreslaar, and lastly the insults offered to the latest embassy. All these things formed a formidable bill of indictment. As the efforts of the Parliament to effect a close union between the republics for their common interest had failed, it became the clear duty of the English Government to take measures to protect the national interests against unscrupulous rivals. There was no delay in taking drastic action.
On October 9, 1651, the famous Navigation Act was passed, which forbade the importation of foreign goods and products into English harbours save in English bottoms, or those of the countries from whence the goods and products came. A deadly blow was thus struck at the Netherlanders, who had at that time almost a monopoly of the most important branches of sea-borne trade and were the carriers of the world. Scarcely less serious was the prohibition to foreigners to fish in British waters. Every infringement of this edict would be punished by the confiscation of the offending vessels. It has already been seen in previous lectures of what vital importance these fisheries were to the welfare of Holland.
The States-General now determined to make a serious effort to resume the negotiations which had been broken off, and Jacob Cats, Gerard Schaep, and Paulus van der Perre were sent on a special embassy to England. They reached London, December 27. Their task was a difficult one. They pressed for the revocation of the Navigation Act and of the embargo upon fishing, and for the release of the confiscated ships, and proposed that negotiations should again be set on foot for the conclusion of a treaty based upon the Magnus Intercursus. The news at this critical moment that the Dutch were fitting out 150 new war vessels for the protection of free navigation did not tend to smooth the way to an understanding. It was regarded in England as a threat. The English now formulated their demands. These were such as they must have known would never be conceded. They required the payment of the arrears of toll due for the fishing on the British coasts, the surrender of the Spice Islands, the punishment of the survivors of those concerned in the Amboina massacre, satisfaction for the murder of Doreslaar, and the payment of the indemnities due for losses sustained by Englishmen at the hands of the Dutch in various parts of the world. It is clear that these demands were practically an ultimatum. The Netherlanders were required to choose between coalition or humiliation, and in case neither were accepted, war. Both sides were, however, averse to taking the final step, and conferences and negotiations still dragged on for some months, while strenuous preparations were at the same time being made on both sides of the Channel for hostilities. It was a dangerous situation, and was made wellnigh desperate by a conflict which took place off Folkestone, May 19, 1652, between the Dutch fleet under Tromp and an English squadron under Blake, through a misunderstanding about the question of striking the flag. This event excited public opinion in England to fever pitch, and made war practically inevitable. The Dutch Government, however, knew that they were not prepared for such a mighty conflict. The peace party in Holland had insisted on the disbanding of a large part of the land forces after the death of William, and the navy had been neglected and was far from being as formidable as a few years before. In all haste therefore the experienced Adrian Pauw, now holding the important post of Grand Pensionary of Holland, was sent over to London to join Cats, Schaep, and van Perre, and endeavour even at the last moment to avoid a final breach between the two nations. His efforts proved vain, for the English would not give way in their demands for conditions too humiliating for the Netherlanders to accept. The 'States' party in power had, in fact, not a free hand, even had they been inclined to preserve peace at the cost of submission to English dictation, for the Orangists were delighted at the thought of trying conclusions with the hated Commonwealth, and they had strong support throughout the country. The fear of a revolution compelled the States-General to refuse the only terms by which war could be avoided. The die was cast. The Dutch ambassadors left England, June 30, and the struggle between the two maritime powers for supremacy, which had been so frequently imminent but so long delayed, at last began.