Prince Maurice in the meantime concentrated his army, amounting to twelve thousand men, and prepared to make head against his formidable opponents. By a succession of the most prudent manoeuvres he contrived to keep Spinola in check, disconcerted all his projects, and forced him to content himself with the capture of two or three towns—a comparatively insignificant conquest. Desiring to wipe away the disgrace of this discomfiture, and to risk everything for the accomplishment of his grand design, Spinola used every method to provoke the prince to a battle, even though a serious mutiny among his troops, and the impossibility of forming a junction with Bucquoi, had reduced his force below that of Maurice; but the latter, to the surprise of all who expected a decisive blow, retreated from before the Italian general—abandoning the town of Groll, which immediately fell into Spinola's power, and giving rise to manifold conjectures and infinite discontent at conduct so little in unison with his wonted enterprise and skill. Even Henry IV. acknowledged it did not answer the expectation he had formed from Maurice's splendid talents for war. The fact seems to be that the prince, much as he valued victory, dreaded peace more; and that he was resolved to avoid a decisive blow, which, in putting an end to the contest, would at the same time have decreased the individual influence in the state which his ambition now urged him to augment by every possible means.
The Dutch naval expeditions this year were not more brilliant than those on land. Admiral Hautain, with twenty ships, was surprised off Cape St. Vincent by the Spanish fleet. The formidable appearance of their galleons inspired on this occasion a perfect panic among the Dutch sailors. They hoisted their sails and fled, with the exception of one ship, commanded by Vice-Admiral Klaazoon, whose desperate conduct saved the national honor. Having held out until his vessel was quite unmanageable, and almost his whole crew killed or wounded, he prevailed on the rest to agree to the resolution he had formed, knelt down on the deck, and putting up a brief prayer for pardon for the act, thrust a light into the powder-magazine, and was instantly blown up with his companions. Only two men were snatched from the sea by the Spaniards; and even these, dreadfully burned and mangled, died in the utterance of curses on the enemy.
This disastrous occurrence was soon, however, forgotten in the rejoicings for a brilliant victory gained the following year by Heemskirk, so celebrated for his voyage to Nova Zembla, and by his conduct in the East. He set sail from the ports of Holland in the month of March, determined to signalize himself by some great exploit, now necessary to redeem the disgrace which had begun to sully the reputation of the Dutch navy. He soon got intelligence that the Spanish fleet lay at anchor in the bay of Gibraltar, and he speedily prepared to offer them battle. Before the combat began he held a council of war, and addressed the officers in an energetic speech, in which he displayed the imperative call on their valor to conquer or die in the approaching conflict. He led on to the action in his own ship; and, to the astonishment of both fleets, he bore right down against the enormous galleon in which the flag of the Spanish admiral-in-chief was hoisted. D'Avila could scarcely believe the evidence of his eyes at this audacity: he at first burst into laughter at the notion; but as Heemskirk approached, he cut his cables and attempted to escape under the shelter of the town. The heroic Dutchman pursued him through the whole of the Spanish fleet, and soon forced him to action. At the second broadside Heemskirk had his left leg carried off by a cannon-ball, and he almost instantly died, exhorting his crew to seek for consolation in the defeat of the enemy. Verhoef, the captain of the ship, concealed the admiral's death; and the whole fleet continued the action with a valor worthy the spirit in which it was commenced. The victory was soon decided: four of the Spanish galleons were sunk or burned, the remainder fled; and the citizens of Cadiz trembled with the apprehension of sack and pillage. But the death of Heemskirk, when made known to the surviving victors, seemed completely to paralyze them. They attempted nothing further; but sailing back to Holland with the body of their lamented chief, thus paid a greater tribute to his importance than was to be found in the mausoleum erected to his memory in the city of Amsterdam.
[Illustration: WILLIAM THE SILENT OF ORANGE.]
The news of this battle reaching Brussels before it was known in Holland, contributed not a little to quicken the anxiety of the archdukes for peace. The king of Spain, worn out by the war which drained his treasury, had for some time ardently desired it. The Portuguese made loud complaints of the ruin that threatened their trade and their East Indian colonies. The Spanish ministers were fatigued with the apparently interminable contest which baffled all their calculations. Spinola, even, in the midst of his brilliant career, found himself so overwhelmed with debts and so oppressed by the reproaches of the numerous creditors who were ruined by his default of payment, that he joined in the general demand for repose. In the month of May, 1607, proposals were made by the archdukes, in compliance with the general desire; and their two plenipotentiaries, Van Wittenhorst and Gevaerts, repaired to The Hague.
Public opinion in the United Provinces was divided on this important question. An instinctive hatred against the Spaniards, and long habits of warfare, influenced the great mass of the people to consider any overture for peace as some wily artifice aimed at their religion and liberty. War seemed to open inexhaustible sources of wealth; while peace seemed to threaten the extinction of the courage which was now as much a habit as war appeared to be a want. This reasoning was particularly convincing to Prince Maurice, whose fame, with a large portion of his authority and revenues, depended on the continuance of hostilities: it was also strongly relished and supported in Zealand generally, and in the chief towns, which dreaded the rivalry of Antwerp. But those who bore the burden of the war saw the subject under a different aspect. They feared that the present state of things would lead to their conquest by the enemy, or to the ruin of their liberty by the growing power of Maurice. They hoped that peace would consolidate the republic and cause the reduction of the debt, which now amounted to twenty-six million florins. At the head of the party who so reasoned was De Barneveldt; and his name is a guarantee with posterity for the wisdom of the opinion.
To allow the violent opposition to subside, and to prevent any explosion of party feuds, the prudent Barneveldt suggested a mere suspension of arms, during which the permanent interests of both states might be calmly discussed. He even undertook to obtain Maurice's consent to the armistice. The prince listened to his arguments, and was apparently convinced by them. He, at any rate, sanctioned the proposal; but he afterward complained that Barneveldt had deceived him, in representing the negotiation as a feint for the purpose of persuading the kings of France and England to give greater aid to the republic. It is more than likely that Maurice reckoned on the improbability of Spain's consenting to the terms of the proposed treaty; and, on that chance, withdrew an opposition which could scarcely be ascribed to any but motives of personal ambition. It is, however, certain that his discontent at this transaction, either with himself or Barneveldt, laid the foundation of that bitter enmity which proved fatal to the life of the latter, and covered his own name, otherwise glorious, with undying reproach.
The United Provinces positively refused to admit even the commencement of a negotiation without the absolute recognition of their independence by the archdukes. A new ambassador was accordingly chosen on the part of these sovereigns, and empowered to concede this important admission. This person attracted considerable attention, from his well-known qualities as an able diplomatist. He was a monk of the order of St. Francis, named John de Neyen, a native of Antwerp, and a person as well versed in court intrigue as in the studies of the cloister. He, in the first instance, repaired secretly to The Hague; and had several private interviews with Prince Maurice and Barneveldt, before he was regularly introduced to the states-general in his official character. Two different journeys were undertaken by this agent between The Hague and Brussels, before he could succeed in obtaining a perfect understanding as to the specific views of the archdukes. The suspicions of the states-general seem fully justified by the dubious tone of the various communications, which avoided the direct admission of the required preliminary as to the independence of the United Provinces. It was at length concluded in explicit terms; and a suspension of arms for eight months was the immediate consequence.
But the negotiation for peace was on the point of being completely broken, in consequence of the conduct of Neyen, who justified every doubt of his sincerity by an attempt to corrupt Aarsens the greffier of the states-general, or at least to influence his conduct in the progress of the treaty. Neyen presented him, in the name of the archdukes, and as a token of his esteem, with a diamond of great value and a bond for fifty thousand crowns. Aarsens accepted these presents with the approbation of Prince Maurice, to whom he had confided the circumstance, and who was no doubt delighted at what promised a rupture to the negotiations. Verreiken, a councillor of state, who assisted Neyen in his diplomatic labors, was formally summoned before the assembled states-general, and there Barneveldt handed to him the diamond and the bond; and at the same time read him a lecture of true republican severity on the subject. Verreiken was overwhelmed by the violent attack: he denied the authority of Neyen for the measure he had taken; and remarked, "that it was not surprising that monks, naturally interested and avaricious, judged others by themselves." This repudiation of Neyen's suspicious conduct seems to have satisfied the stern resentment of Barneveldt; and the party which so earnestly labored for peace. In spite of all the opposition of Maurice and his partisans, the negotiation went on.
In the month of January, 1608, the various ambassadors were assembled at The Hague. Spinola was the chief of the plenipotentiaries appointed by the king of Spain; and Jeannin, president of the parliament of Dijon, a man of rare endowments, represented France. Prince Maurice, accompanied by his brother Frederick Henry, the various counts of Nassau his cousins, and a numerous escort, advanced some distance to meet Spinola, conveyed him to The Hague in his own carriage, and lavished on him all the attentions reciprocally due between two such renowned captains during the suspension of their rivalry. The president Richardst was, with Neyen and Verreiken, ambassador from the archdukes; but Barneveldt and Jeannin appear to have played the chief parts in the important transaction which now filled all Europe with anxiety. Every state was more or less concerned in the result; and the three great monarchies of England, France, and Spain, had all a vital interest at stake. The conferences were therefore frequent; and the debates assumed a great variety of aspects, which long kept the civilized world in suspense.