Schimmelpenninck arrives at The Hague
And forthwith the council resorted to the old Dutch expedient of procrastination. It sent a delegation to Paris to see the Emperor. Meanwhile, something might turn up. It did turn up—in the form of an ultimatum from his Majesty. He refused to receive the delegation, but sent word by Verhuell that the republic was given just eight days in which to repair to Paris and ask the Emperor for the favour of his brother as their king. If they were a day late the country would be turned into a French department.
On the 3rd of May, 1806, the grand council in The Hague agreed to all the French demands. The ex-bishop of Autun, the Rev. Mr. Talleyrand, had been appointed by Napoleon to draw up a constitution for the new kingdom. That was easy enough. After two weeks he could send the finished article to the grand council for its approval. The council approved; but Schimmelpenninck denounced the whole proceeding as being unconstitutional, and refused to sign the document. The council signed it over his head, and returned the paper to Paris. Then Schimmelpenninck protested to the French minister, and told him that he could not possibly justify the actions of the council. The minister said that he was sorry, but that nothing could be done about it, since the document was back in Paris. Whereupon Schimmelpenninck resigned and retired to his country place, declining all further participation in his country's political affairs. He lived until the year 1825, long enough to see his beloved land regain its independence and finally benefit by many of the reforms which he himself had helped to bring about.
The Speaker of the legislative body was selected to succeed the Raadpensionaris. Together with his colleagues of the grand council he now had the dishonour of arranging the last details of the farce which had been ordered by Paris.
On the 5th of June, of the year 1806, the Emperor Napoleon graciously deigned to receive a deputation from among the Batavian people who had come to Paris to ask his Majesty to present them with a king. The reason for this request, according to the delegates themselves, was the weakness of their country, which did not allow them to defend themselves against their enemies.
His Majesty, from a high tower of condescension, agreed to honour the petitioners with a favourable reply. His Majesty's own brother would be appointed king of the Batavians.
The new king, an amiable man, but not in the least desirous to be made king of Holland (having such difficulties in governing his own wife that he could not well bother about the additional duties of an entire kingdom), was then asked to step forward. He humbly listened to his brother's admonition never to "cease being a Frenchman," and answered that he would accept the crown and do his best, "since his Majesty had been pleased to order it so." That was all. The Batavian delegation was dismissed. The new king retired, to go to his unhappy home; but before he left the hall M. Talleyrand called him back and handed him a copy of the constitution of his new kingdom. Would his Majesty kindly peruse the document at his own leisure and make such suggestions as might occur to him? His Majesty took the document. He was sure that it was all right. His brother had approved of it. A few days later Louis packed his wife and his children in the royal coach and slowly rolled to his new domains. The people in the cities through which he passed gazed at this ready-made monarch with a dull curiosity. They wondered what this experiment would bring them.