Craig Harline & Eddy Put, A Bishop’s Tale. Mathias Hovius Among His Flock in Seventeenth-Century Flanders, Yale University Press [New Haven and London 2000], pp.387, ill., ISBN 0-300-08342-4

The 16th and 17th century were the highpoint of religious strive in the Low Countries. Catholicism had to endure a unique and for them completely new situation, in which they got serious competition in saving souls. The Reformation here began early and affected all parts of society, eventually to lead to a separation of the Habsburg Netherlands. Protestantism had several strands but the one with the largest impact was undoubtedly calvinism. It first developed in an important manner in Antwerp soon, from the 1570s it was to emerge more openly in the Dutch Republic. Soon it replaced catholicism as the official state-sponsored church. However, catholicism remained an important force in Dutch society, with probably up to a third of the population adhering to its faith. Rome in the meantime considered the Dutch Republic as a field for missionaries. At the same time in the Spanish Netherlands large parts of Flanders and Brabant remained true to their catholic faith; protestantism only made small inroads there.

This idea of a monolithic battle between the faiths should, however, be abandoned. The history of the church in society has long been seen only in an ideological sense, with emphasis mainly being put on scripture. That serious contention existed about theological interpretation of both the Old and the New Testament is no secret. Only rarely was religion looked upon from the private, individual world of the believers. This has, however, changed in recent years and this book about bishop Mathias Hovius (1542-1620) is another fine example. Mathias Hovius became archbishop of Mechelen in 1596 until 1620. The archdiocese of Mechelen consisted of some 400 rural parishes and had developed into a vast and complex ecclesiastical structure. Hovius tried very hard to put the reforms of the Council of Trent into practice and his struggle against malpractice, ineptitude, incompetence, even miracles is the main storyline of this book. This is, however, no ordinary biography. The authors have taken individual cases which ended up on the archbishop’s desk as their intake into religious life and customs of the archdiocese as a whole, often supported by other instances. Although we are also given information about life in the archbishop’s palace, this book takes us more into village life in the country.

The story that unfolds is far from imaginary. Priests and pastors were underpaid, leading to moonlighting on their part - although they could hardly be blamed for trying to make ends meet. Basically there were not enough of them, thus endangering the delivery of religious service to those who needed it most: the poor and stricken people of farming communities. To encourage recruitment the archbishop established a seminary of his own, with moderate success. Even more problems were encountered in the higher echelon of ecclesiastical workers, chapters, deans and canons. They constituted problems all of their own. Many monastic institutions were fiercely proud of their independence, and the archbishop had to battle hard to get them under his control and to institute further reform. Sexual misconduct seems to have occurred most in these very private surroundings. These monasteries often had strong links to the nobility, and ultimately they always tried to invoke papal protection.

For archbishop Hovius it seems to have been an uphill struggle all the way. That he even ventured this far in society is surprising, given his rather modest background. The biographical part is, however, not very convincing; his personal thoughts on the subject are often difficult to ascertain - except that he disapproved. Equally religious life, and his own, in the urban world is rather underrepresented. On the other hand, the authors should be congratulated on making good use of the only surviving diary of the archbishop, and outlining the daily routine of his work. Because this was far from mundane, we get first-hand accounts of the many problems confronting the archbishop - problems of a kind the archbishop would surely have wished not to have to contend with. This is therefore a marvellous book that offers a unique insight into religious belief in the tumultuous world of 17th century Flanders.

C.O. van der Meij

Let us contemplate for a minute the death of prince Maurice of Nassau at the battle of Nieuwpoort in 1600. Maurice would probably have been the most respected member of the Orange-Nassau dynasty to this present day. He would have gained this respect on the basis of a combination of military prowess and astute political skills, combined with a very modest private personality, the ultimate national hero for sure. In the event he survived the battle and lived on for another twenty-five years. Maurice's reputation has however suffered enormously because of this, especially in view of his unsavoury role in the death of pensionary Oldenbarnevelt in 1619. Nowadays his father William the Silent is the true national hero, not his son Maurice. Contemporaries like Aubery de Maurier however saw it quite differently and even claimed Maurice was the uncrowned king of Europe during his lifetime.

Four centuries on and the year 1600 still plays a marginal role in the collective memory of the Dutch. The anniversary of the battle of Nieuwpoort has, however, not been turned into a great festive occasion. Although interest in Dutch national history has witnessed a remarkable revival during the past decade (1990s), no official commemoration was held. In contrast, in Belgium (the present-day site of the battle) a statue for Maurice has recently been unveiled - something Dutch authorities have never come round to. Three new publications have however seen the light recently.

The best account of the campaign in Flanders and the ensuing battle at Nieuwpoort still remains the contemporary diary kept by Anthonis Duyck, now reissued in a contemporary, updated version with annotation. As advocaat-fiscaal (fiscal-advocate) of the Raad van State he travelled with the army to keep check of its movements. In doing so, he informs us along the way of tactical manoeuvrings, financial difficulties and strategic misgivings among the higher ranks. He usually begins his entries with an accurate daily weather-report, thereby creating a sense of immediacy to the modern reader. Thus we get to know that on the day of the battle the weather was fair with a stiff breeze blowing along the coast: this resulted in a crowd of on-lookers, mainly consisting of foreign nobility.

In the afternoon of July 2nd, the battle began 'with a deafening sound of shooting, yelling and clarionblasts'. The result at the end of the day was a hollow victory, with 6000 lives being lost on the beaches and strewn along the dunes. Maurice comes over not as the fabled strategist but as someone in a constant worry. He frequently visited his officers to instruct them, and in the meantime ordered the soldiers to fight on. In turn these soldiers shouted abusive language at each other as a means of support: as in every battle, this was a violent and chaotic occasion. In the end, Duyck concluded, the Dutch only narrowly won 'because in their our of need and a Spanish victory imminent, God had more mercy on them'. Before the battle had even commenced, the soldiers had already given a good account of themselves by committing many atrocities along the way. The civilian population of Flanders, although largely the victims in all of this, could on occasion strike back violently; on June 24th a soldier's wive was found dead with her breasts cut off.

After all this time Duyck's story still offers us the best insights, especially because he belonged to Maurice's inner circle and wasn't afraid to point the finger. Duyck's misgivings about the army's performance and the background of the battle are further explored in Leen Dorsman's book. This a new publication in the Verloren Verleden (or 'lost past', a pun on the publisher's name) series, which tries to bring back to life major events in Dutch history. These small booklets are very accessible to a much wider audience because of their comprehensive manner. Especially the last chapter about the various ways historians have looked upon the battle is very useful, reflecting the historiographic interest of its author.

This anniversary of the battle of Nieuwpoort has altogether failed to offer us new insights: although not genial, Maurice remains its standardbearer. Its true significance is therefore difficult to ascertain. The fact that it all happened in 1600, an easy year to remember, probably has got something to do with this; in reality the campaign as such was a failure. The intention of the Staten-Generaal (and its architect Oldenbarnevelt) had been to attack the privateering strongholds of Nieuwpoort and Dunkirk, which were damaging the merchant navy. Once arrived at the beaches of Nieuwpoort, the army led by Maurice stumbled upon a huge Spanish contingent. The only thing to do was to hope for the best, and out of all proportion grew a famous victory: triumph in defeat indeed!

Luuc Kooijmans, Liefde in opdracht. Het hofleven van Willem Frederik van Nassau, Bert Bakker, Amsterdam 2000; ISBN 90 351 2201 1, pp.336 with ill.

The Frisian stadholder Willem Frederik (1613-1664) kept a diary for the most part of his life. This diary functioned much the same as any of its contemporaries, including the famous diarist Samuel Pepys: it was a personal reminder of life’s important, and sometimes less obvious events and the way in which these were connected to God, life’s universal arbiter. Personal failure and success were attributed to divine interventions. The diary of the Frisian stadholder was only discovered in the late 1960s in the archives of the Dutch royal family in The Hague. Until then the stadholder had been almost universally denounced by historians as the bad influence behind William II, the Prince of Orange who so disastrously tried to gain absolute power in the decentralised Dutch Republic in the late 1640s. The entries in his diary have, however, given historians a complete new insight into the man, his thoughts and actions, court life in Frisia and The Hague, and as a consequence into a tumultuous period in Dutch history. The diaries were published for the first time in Gloria Parendi (The Hague 1995), though with little annotation.

Now Luuc Kooijmans has written a new biography almost entirely based on these diary entries. The author is a specialist in seventeenth-century ego-documents, whose most recent book Vriendschap (Amsterdam 1997) dealt with the fortunes of the Huydecoper family in Amsterdam. In this his latest book, he has gone even further down the path of the private world of the individual. Liefde in opdracht is almost entirely constructed around the personal life of the stadholder, and deals much less with his official capacity as a politician or military leader. Sexual pleasures, heavy bouts of drinking, factional infighting, and marital discord all combine to make a wonderful and often witty read. The light this all throws on courtly life in the Netherlands in the seventeenth century can therefore be said to be most revealing. The so-called high life it consisted of was made up mainly of exchanging gossip and gambling; Willem Frederik was a heavy gambler, who once lost an expensive diamant ring to William II (who in his turn on one occasion won 20.000 guilders). Even horses were won and lost in this way. Willem Frederik couldn’t afford this expensive way of life but as a courtier felt obliged to show off in front of others. Social position in court was played out in a superficial manner, rather like actors on a stage with their clearly defined roles.

Willem Frederik often frequented brothels, a favorite pastime of many members of the Orange-Nassau family including William II and Maurice of Nassau. Willem Frederik was a close confidant of William II who, according to him, only liked ‘whoring, gambling and hunting’, and after five years of marriage confessed to having ‘kissed’ (or made love to) his wife Mary Stuart less than twelve times. In between gambling and whoring both men often got drunk as well.

In order to further his career as a courtier marriage was the most important objective in Willem Frederik’s life. In this he was frequented by some major setbacks, almost all in the formidable shape of Amalia van Solms, who was married to stadholder Frederik Hendrik. This volatile woman played a strong hand in arranging the marriages of her children. Willem Frederik first set his eyes on Louise Henriette, her eldest daughter. Love and affection were seldom the main reasons for a marriage in these circles: candidates were vetted against each other in order to obtain the best possible deal and further strenghten dynastic ties. She was however married of in 1646 to Friedrich Wilhelm, the ‘Great Elector’ of Brandenburg. Willem Frederik finally succeeded at the ripe old age of 39 in marrying her younger sister, Albertine Agnes (1634-1696) in 1652. With the conclusion of his marriage Willem Frederik had succeeded in upholding his family’s reputation and keeping his own honour. Gaining one’s respect was one of the prime motivator’s during the ancien regime. Daily life was to a large decree ritualised with every gesture being analysed. Willem Frederik’s life, as analysed through his diaries, was full of these and other commitments.

Kooijmans has succeeded in describing the daily life of a seventeenth-century courtier, which often reads like a roman scandaleuse. However, his book falls short of being a good biography. Although we may get to know the man intimately and the many doubts he had, the author has failed to explain adequately the world he was living in - either in Leeuwarden or The Hague. Kooijmans has missed this opportunity to broaden his horizon and seriously challenge conventional debates on the subject of court life in general. Once again, as in his previous book, the author falls short on theory but excels as a storyteller. Historians looking for wider implications with the recent surge of interest in the cultural world of the Dutch royal family in mind, will feel disappointed but in the meantime have gained a valuable and unique insight into this otherwise closed environment - which continues until this present day.

[This review was first published in its original form in Vrij Nederland, June 17/2000]

Famous fathers and their children form an enduring theme for biographers because of the sharp contrast it often offers in different lifestyles. Usually the father toils away every hour of the day to achieve his everlasting fame, only to find his reputation and fortune squandered by his offspring. However, in the early modern period it was relatively common - if not a duty - for sons to follow in the footsteps of their father. The family was the beginning and end of the world of any individual and the children were expected to contribute to it, either through personal achievement or advantageous marriage. Thus a families’ social capital evolved over time and many generations.

In the seventeenth century, as in any other era, other routes were however also possible. This can be discerned from the new biography of the naval officers Maarten ((1598-1653) and Cornelis Tromp (1645-1691) by the maritime historian Ronald Prud’homme van Reine. The navy offered excellent opportunities for instant social success in a period where great seabattles were the order of the day. With this book, the author follows in the footsteps of his biography of Michiel de Ruyter which was published in 1996. However, from the outset his pretentions are rather different. ‘Important findings will shed new light on the lives’ of both father and son’ and even the final resolve of the murder of Johan and Cornelis de Witt is proclaimed. This all sounds to good to be true.

Both father and son certainly led adventerous lives. They both learned their profession the hard way: Maarten was eleven when he witnessed his father’s loss at sea and was captured by privateers. From then on there was no looking back. Maarten finally established himself at the battle of the Downs in 1639, although by then he was already two years in charge of the navy as vice-admiral. The navy was in disarray in the 1630s and Tromp was the most natural candidate to solve the crisis. He was loved by the sailors for his plain attitude and thus the people’s choice. Behind this apparent joviality however lurked another personality, something the biographer fails to discern. In 1640 Tromp married the rich heiress Cornelia Teding van Berckhout. By this time, Tromp had become a man of means himself because of the prize money he had collected throughout his career. The wedding was one of the social highlights of the day, costing the enormous sum of 16.000 guilders. Until his death thirteen years later, Tromp lived in style in fashionable The Hague. From his own humble beginnings, Tromp had at least outwardly become a changed man. Inwardly however, there are signs of this as well. He wanted more political influence but this was denied. The First Anglo-Dutch War (1652-4) provided ample opportunity for him to show at what he was best: naval warfare. The Dutch navy was constantly on the backfoot and needed him like never before. Tromp obliged with some brilliant performances but died instantly when he was shot in the heart at the battle of Terheyde in 1653.

By then his son Cornelis was eight years old and grown accustomed to a life in luxury. From the outset in his book, the author makes it clear that these are contrasting lives. Maarten was never at fault, whereas Cornelis was the black sheep of the family. This certainly makes the life of Cornelis more interesting for any biographer and the portrait Prud’homme van Reine offers of him is certainly more life-like than the one of his father. Cornelis was a bully, who indulged himself in alcohol and intrigue. He was surrounded by shady characters like Johan Kievit (a Rotterdam official, who was finally banned from the country), and always involved in some type of scandal. An able commander, luck seemed to be invariably on his side. His promotion to the rank of vice-admiral was thus not a personal achievement but a favour. During the first stadholderless period (1650-1672), the naval officer corps was deeply divided between those supporting the House of Orange and adherents of the new republican regime. Although generally acknowledged, this is still a rather unknown part of Dutch political history where new fields of study like patronage could offer solutions. As vice-admiral however Cornelis Tromp spent most of his time ashore. He married a wealthy but much older and ungainly woman, Margaretha van Raephorst. Their life in Amsterdam was far from happy with no children. Tromp finally died in relative obscurity in his bed

In separating their lives instead of integrating them, the author continually falls short on analysis. Maarten and Cornelis Tromp almost become caricatures of themselves, the good and the bad personified. Neither character is fully explored and in any way too much isolated from their surroundings. The author offers some interesting new information on Dutch political culture (especially Johan Kievit) but fails to explain the true significance of this. Furthermore, the story of Cornelis’s involvement in the murder of Johan and Cornelis de Witt is blown out of all proportions. This book despite the novelty of two main characters, is therefore a rather traditional biography. New approaches in history as successfully shown by Luuc Kooijmans and Judith Pollmann with their focus on the mentality of their characters are waisted on Prud’homme van Reine. In the meantime however, this book offers a startling portrait on the realities of seventeenth-century seafaring life.

Geert H. Janssen

The surrender of the town of Breda in 1590 was a military re-enactment of the surprise taking of Troye in classical times, adjusted however to Dutch particularities. Under frozen skies, a small party of soldiers was hidden in a peat-boat. Though almost too late because of the adverse weather conditions and in a leaking boat, they entered the town unnoticed and opened the gates to the army waiting outside. In this rather peculiar fashion, Maurice of Nassau scored his first notable victory against Spain. Maurice (1567-1625) was the heir of William the Silent but not prince of Orange. This title was reserved for the eldest son, Philips Willem, who lived in captivity in Spain. Thus the burden of leading the Revolt fell on the young and untried shoulders of Maurice. With the publication of this long-awaited biograpy by one of the leading Dutch historians, A.Th. van Deursen, Maurice has now finally been given his rightful place in Dutch history. Van Deursen has protrayed the man and his times skillfully. He follows Maurice’s life chronologically, only to be interrupted in the middle of the book by a section on the military and political circumstances.

Maurice’s childhood was chequered by marital dicord. His father was busy leading the Revolt and his mother, Anne of Saxony, preferred to bes surrounded by lovers instead of her own children. This seems to have made his mark, as Maurice never married himself. These psychological and freudian interpretations are however waisted on the author. Maurice largely grew up at the castle of Dillenburg, where the brother of William the Silent, Jan of Nassau, lived with his many children. When his father died Maurice was just seventeen years old. He was regarded as a hothead and held a high opinion of himself. He was however also a cunning man and a sound military strategist. In collaboration with his cousin Willem Lodewijk, he began rebuilding the rebel army according to the newly-founded principles of the military revolution. This brought huge successes to the Dutch Republic, turning it from a paria-state to one of the most powerful in Europe. In all of this, Van Deursen portrays Maurice foremost as a warrior. Military life was his daily bread and butter: this rough lifestyle gave him a hard, uncivilised edge.

In a sense this books has two main subjects, the other one being Johan van Oldenbarnevelt. Oldenbarnevelt was Maurice’s political ally from the beginning but their special relationship turned sour. The pensionary of Holland boasted about his achievements and lived in grand style in The Hague. Though an extremely capable man, he perhaps overrated his capacities. When as the leading political figure he began peace negotiations with Spain, Maurice became increasingly anxious. He had built prestige, power and patronage around his command of the army and now felt threatened in this position. After the conclusion of the Twelve Years’ Truce in 1609, the mutual relationship deteriorated rapidly. This was caused mainly by religious strife between remonstrants (or arminians) and counter-remonstrants (or gomarists). However objective his analysis of the conflict, it is clear which side the author favours but never without commanding respect. Maurice had been an orthodox calvinist from his childhood and did not agree with the more liberal view of Oldenbarnevelt who supported the remonstrants. Consequently Maurice, although not without some hesitation, favoured the counter-remonstrant cause. Maurice now intervened more and more in internal politics and began to erode the position of Oldenbarnevelt. That it all ended in 1619 with the latter’s death on charges of treason was nothing short of a Greek tragedy.

Maurice has never been forgiven by later historians for his unsavioury part in the trial and death of Oldenbarnevelt. The final irony is however that without his trusted adviser, Maurice became a mere shadow of himself. Until his death six years later Maurice was an unhappy man. His death almost coincided with the surrender of Breda to the Spanish. Breda therefore marks the beginning and end of this military hero but failed politician. Van Deursen has written an excellent biography. His analysis is often to the point without dwelling too much on learned insights. The characters of the age are dealt with in fairness and respect. Despite everything however, Maurice remains a bit of an enigma. Van Deursen fails to get real psychological insight into the man: he regards every twist and turn in his life as logical but was it? You have to wonder whether there was not more chance involved. Why was there for instance an assassination plot against him in 1623? By disregarding his private life - Maurice had a longlasting relationship with a catholic woman spawning eight children - but also the world of the court, Maurice’s personality becomes too level-headed, too calculated. Surely, there was more to this unprepossessing figure than meets the eye?

Geert H. Janssen

[This review was first published in its original form in Vrij Nederland 02-12-2000]