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Vol. II. Complete, by John Lothrop Motley

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Title: History of the United Netherlands, 1586-89, Vol. II. Complete

Author: John Lothrop Motley

Last Updated: February 7, 2009
Release Date: October 15, 2006 [EBook #4860]

Language: English

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*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNITED NETHERLANDS, II. ***




Produced by David Widger





HISTORY OF THE UNITED NETHERLANDS

Volume II.

From the Death of William the Silent to the Twelve Year's Truce--1609

By John Lothrop Motley




CHAPTER IX. 1586

   Military Plans in the Netherlands--The Elector and Electorate of
   Cologne--Martin Schenk--His Career before serving the States--
   Franeker University founded--Parma attempts Grave--Battle on the
   Meuse--Success and Vainglory of Leicester--St. George's Day
   triumphantly kept at Utrecht--Parma not so much appalled as it was
   thought--He besieges and reduces Grave--And is Master of the Meuse--
   Leicester's Rage at the Surrender of Grave--His Revenge--Parma on
   the Rhine--He besieges aid assaults Neusz--Horrible Fate of the
   Garrison and City--Which Leicester was unable to relieve--Asel
   surprised by Maurice and Sidney--The Zeeland Regiment given to
   Sidney--Condition of the Irish and English Troops--Leicester takes
   the Field--He reduces Doesburg--He lays siege to Zutphen--Which
   Parma prepares to relieve--The English intercept the Convoy--Battle
   of Warnsfeld--Sir Philip Sidney wounded--Results of the Encounter--
   Death of Sidney at Arnheim--Gallantry of Edward Stanley.

Five great rivers hold the Netherland territory in their coils. Three are
but slightly separated--the Yssel, Waal, and ancient Rhine, while the
Scheldt and, Meuse are spread more widely asunder. Along each of these
streams were various fortified cities, the possession of which, in those
days, when modern fortification was in its infancy, implied the control
of the surrounding country. The lower part of all the rivers, where they
mingled with the sea and became wide estuaries, belonged to the Republic,
for the coasts and the ocean were in the hands of the Hollanders and
English. Above, the various strong places were alternately in the hands
of the Spaniards and of the patriots. Thus Antwerp, with the other
Scheldt cities, had fallen into Parma's power, but Flushing, which
controlled them all, was held by Philip Sidney for the Queen and States.
On the Meuse, Maastricht and Roermond were Spanish, but Yenloo, Grave,
Meghem, and other towns, held for the commonwealth. On the Waal, the town
of Nymegen had, through the dexterity of Martin Schenk, been recently
transferred to the royalists, while the rest of that river's course was
true to the republic. The Rhine, strictly so called, from its entrance
into Netherland, belonged to the rebels. Upon its elder branch, the
Yssel, Zutphen was in Parma's hands, while, a little below, Deventer had
been recently and adroitly saved by Leicester and Count Meurs from
falling into the same dangerous grasp.

Thus the triple Rhine, after it had crossed the German frontier, belonged
mainly, although not exclusively, to the States. But on the edge of the
Batavian territory, the ancient river, just before dividing itself into
its three branches, flowed through a debatable country which was even
more desolate and forlorn, if possible, than the land of the obedient
Provinces.

This unfortunate district was the archi-episcopal electorate of Cologne.
The city of Cologne itself, Neusz, and Rheinberg, on the river, Werll and
other places in Westphalia and the whole country around, were endangered,
invaded, ravaged, and the inhabitants plundered, murdered, and subjected
to every imaginable outrage, by rival bands of highwaymen, enlisted in
the support of the two rival bishops--beggars, outcasts, but high-born
and learned churchmen both--who disputed the electorate.

At the commencement of the year a portion of the bishopric was still in
the control of the deposed Protestant elector Gebhard Truchsess, assisted
of course by the English and the States. The city of Cologne was held by
the Catholic elector, Ernest of Bavaria, bishop of Liege; but Neusz and
Rheinberg were in the hands of the Dutch republic.

The military operations of the year were, accordingly, along the Meuse,
where the main object of Parma was to wrest Grave From the Netherlands;
along the Waal, where, on the other hand, the patriots wished to recover
Nymegen; on the Yssel, where they desired to obtain the possession of
Zutphen; and in the Cologne electorate, where the Spaniards meant, if
possible, to transfer Neusz and Rheinberg from Truchsess to Elector
Ernest. To clear the course of these streams, and especially to set free
that debatable portion of the river-territory which hemmed him in from
neutral Germany, and cut off the supplies from his starving troops, was
the immediate design of Alexander Farnese.

Nothing could be more desolate than the condition of the electorate. Ever
since Gebhard Truchsess had renounced the communion of the Catholic
Church for the love of Agnes Mansfeld, and so gained a wife and lost his
principality, he had been a dependant upon the impoverished Nassaus, or a
supplicant for alms to the thrifty Elizabeth. The Queen was frequently
implored by Leicester, without much effect, to send the ex-elector a few
hundred pounds to keep him from starving, as "he had not one groat to
live upon," and, a little later, he was employed as a go-between, and
almost a spy, by the Earl, in his quarrels with the patrician party
rapidly forming against him in the States.

At Godesberg--the romantic ruins of which stronghold the traveller still
regards with interest, placed as it is in the midst of that enchanting
region where Drachenfels looks down on the crumbling tower of Roland and
the convent of Nonnenwerth--the unfortunate Gebhard had sustained a
conclusive defeat. A small, melancholy man, accomplished, religious,
learned, "very poor but very wise," comely, but of mean stature,
altogether an unlucky and forlorn individual, he was not, after all, in
very much inferior plight to that in which his rival, the Bavarian
bishop, had found himself. Prince Ernest, archbishop of Liege and
Cologne, a hangeron of his brother, who sought to shake him off, and a
stipendiary of Philip, who was a worse paymaster than Elizabeth, had a
sorry life of it, notwithstanding his nominal possession of the see. He
was forced to go, disguised and in secret, to the Prince of Parma at
Brussels, to ask for assistance, and to mention, with lacrymose
vehemence, that both his brother and himself had determined to renounce
the episcopate, unless the forces of the Spanish King could be employed
to recover the cities on the Rhine. If Neusz and Rheinberg were not
wrested from the rebels; Cologne itself would soon be gone. Ernest
represented most eloquently to Alexander, that if the protestant
archbishop were reinstated in the ancient see, it would be a most
perilous result for the ancient church throughout all northern Europe.
Parma kept the wandering prelate for a few days in his palace in
Brussels, and then dismissed him, disguised and on foot, in the dusk of
the evening, through the park-gate. He encouraged him with hopes of
assistance, he represented to his sovereign the importance of preserving
the Rhenish territory to Bishop Ernest and to Catholicism, but hinted
that the declared intention of the Bavarian to resign the dignity, was
probably a trick, because the archi-episcopate was no such very bad thing
after all.

The archi-episcopate might be no very bad thing, but it was a most
uncomfortable place of residence, at the moment, for prince or peasant.
Overrun by hordes of brigands, and crushed almost out of existence by
that most deadly of all systems of taxations, the 'brandschatzung,' it
was fast becoming a mere den of thieves. The 'brandschatzung' had no name
in English, but it was the well-known impost, levied by roving
commanders, and even by respectable generals of all nations. A hamlet,
cluster of farm-houses, country district, or wealthy city, in order to
escape being burned and ravaged, as the penalty of having fallen into a
conqueror's hands, paid a heavy sum of ready money on the nail at command
of the conqueror. The free companions of the sixteenth century drove a
lucrative business in this particular branch of industry; and when to
this was added the more direct profits derived from actual plunder, sack,
and ransoming, it was natural that a large fortune was often the result
to the thrifty and persevering commander of free lances.

Of all the professors of this comprehensive art, the terrible Martin
Schenk was preeminent; and he was now ravaging the Cologne territory,
having recently passed again to the service of the States. Immediately
connected with the chief military events of the period which now occupies
us, he was also the very archetype of the marauders whose existence was
characteristic of the epoch. Born in 1549 of an ancient and noble family
of Gelderland, Martin Schenk had inherited no property but a sword.
Serving for a brief term as page to the Seigneur of Ysselstein, he
joined, while yet a youth, the banner of William of Orange, at the head
of two men-at-arms. The humble knight-errant, with his brace of squires,
was received with courtesy by the Prince and the Estates, but he soon
quarrelled with his patrons. There was a castle of Blyenbeek, belonging
to his cousin, which he chose to consider his rightful property, because
he was of the same race, and because it was a convenient and productive
estate and residence, The courts had different views of public law, and
supported the ousted cousin. Martin shut himself up in the castle, and
having recently committed a rather discreditable homicide, which still
further increased his unpopularity with the patriots, he made overtures
to Parma. Alexander was glad to enlist so bold a soldier on his side, and
assisted Schenk in his besieged stronghold. For years afterwards, his
services under the King's banner were most brilliant, and he rose to the
highest military command, while his coffers, meantime, were rapidly
filling with the results of his robberies and 'brandschatzungs.' "'Tis a
most courageous fellow," said Parma, "but rather a desperate highwayman
than a valiant soldier."  Martin's couple of lances had expanded into a
corps of free companions, the most truculent, the most obedient, the most
rapacious in Christendom. Never were freebooters more formidable to the
world at large, or more docile to their chief, than were the followers of
General Schenk. Never was a more finished captain of highwaymen. He was a
man who was never sober, yet who never smiled. His habitual intoxication
seemed only to increase both his audacity and his taciturnity, without
disturbing his reason. He was incapable of fear, of fatigue, of remorse.
He could remain for days and nights without dismounting-eating, drinking,
and sleeping in the saddle; so that to this terrible centaur his horse
seemed actually a part of himself. His soldiers followed him about like
hounds, and were treated by him like hounds. He habitually scourged them,
often took with his own hand the lives of such as displeased him, and had
been known to cause individuals of them to jump from the top of church
steeples at his command; yet the pack were ever stanch to his orders, for
they knew that he always led them where the game was plenty. While
serving under Parma he had twice most brilliantly defeated Hohenlo. At
the battle of Hardenberg Heath he had completely outgeneralled that
distinguished chieftain, slaying fifteen hundred of his soldiers at the
expense of only fifty or sixty of his own. By this triumph he had
preserved the important city of Groningen for Philip, during an
additional quarter of a century, and had been received in that city with
rapture. Several startling years of victory and rapine he had thus run
through as a royalist partisan. He became the terror and the scourge of
his native Gelderland, and he was covered with wounds received in the
King's service. He had been twice captured and held for ransom. Twice he
had effected his escape. He had recently gained the city of Nymegen. He
was the most formidable, the most unscrupulous, the most audacious
Netherlander that wore Philip's colours; but he had received small public
reward for his services, and the wealth which he earned on the high-road
did not suffice for his ambition. He had been deeply disgusted, when, at
the death of Count Renneberg, Verdugo, a former stable-boy of Mansfeld, a
Spaniard who had risen from the humblest rank to be a colonel and
general, had been made governor of Friesland. He had smothered his
resentment for a time however, but had sworn within himself to desert at
the most favourable opportunity. At last, after he had brilliantly saved
the city of Breda from falling into the hands of the patriots, he was
more enraged than he had ever been before, when Haultepenne, of the house
of Berlapmont, was made governor of that place in his stead.

On the 25th of May, 1585, at an hour after midnight, he had a secret
interview with Count Meurs, stadholder for the States of Gelderland, and
agreed to transfer his mercenary allegiance to the republic. He made good
terms. He was to be lieutenant-governor of Gelderland, and he was to have
rank as marshal of the camp in the States' army, with a salary of twelve
hundred and fifty guilders a month. He agreed to resign his famous castle
of Blyenbeek, but was to be reimbursed with estates in Holland and
Zeeland, of the annual value of four thousand florins.

After this treaty, Martin and his free lances served the States
faithfully, and became sworn foes to Parma and the King. He gave and took
no quarter, and his men, if captured, "paid their ransom with their
heads." He ceased to be the scourge of Gelderland, but he became the
terror of the electorate. Early in 1586, accompanied by Herman Kloet, the
young and daring Dutch commandant of Neusz, he had swept down into the
Westphalian country, at the head of five hundred foot and five hundred
horse. On the 18th of March he captured the city of Werll by a neat
stratagem. The citizens, hemmed in on all sides by marauders, were in
want of many necessaries of life, among other things, of salt. Martin
had, from time to time, sent some of his soldiers into the place,
disguised as boors from the neighbourhood, and carrying bags of that
article. A pacific trading intercourse had thus been established between
the burghers within and the banditti without the gates. Agreeable
relations were formed within the walls, and a party of townsmen had
agreed to cooperate with the followers of Schenk. One morning a train of
waggons laden with soldiers neatly covered with salt, made their
appearance at the gate. At the same time a fire broke out most
opportunely within the town. The citizens busily employed themselves in
extinguishing the flames. The salted soldiers, after passing through the
gateway, sprang from the waggons, and mastered the watch. The town was.
carried at a blow. Some of the inhabitants were massacred as a warning to
the rest; others were taken prisoners and held for ransom; a few, more
fortunate, made their escape to the citadel. That fortress was stormed in
vain, but the city was thoroughly sacked. Every house was rifled of its
contents. Meantime Haultepenne collected a force of nearly four thousand
men, boors, citizens, and soldiers, and came to besiege Schenk in the
town, while, at the same time, attacks were made upon him from the
castle. It was impossible for him to hold the city, but he had completely
robbed it of every thing valuable. Accordingly he loaded a train of
waggons with his booty, took with him thirty of the magistrates as
hostages, with other wealthy citizens, and marching in good order against
Haultepenne, completely routed him, killing a number variously estimated
at from five hundred to two thousand, and effected his retreat,
desperately wounded in the thigh, but triumphant, and laden with the
spoils to Venlo on the Meuse, of which city he was governor.

"Surely this is a noble fellow, a worthy fellow," exclaimed Leicester,
who was filled with admiration at the bold marauder's progress, and vowed
that he was "the only soldier in truth that they had, for he was never
idle, and had succeeded hitherto very happily."

And thus, at every point of the doomed territory of the little
commonwealth, the natural atmosphere in which the inhabitants existed was
one of blood and rapine. Yet during the very slight lull, which was
interposed in the winter of 1585-6 to the eternal clang of arms in
Friesland, the Estates of that Province, to their lasting honour, founded
the university of Franeker. A dozen years before, the famous institution
at Leyden had been established, as a reward to the burghers for their
heroic defence of the city. And now this new proof was given of the love
of Netherlanders, even in the midst of their misery and their warfare,
for the more humane arts. The new college was well endowed from ancient
churchlands, and not only was the education made nearly gratuitous, while
handsome salaries were provided for the professors, but provision was
made by which the poorer scholars could be fed and boarded at a very
moderate expense. There was a table provided at an annual cost to the
student of but fifty florins, and a second and third table at the very
low price of forty and thirty florins respectively. Thus the sum to be
paid by the poorer class of scholars for a year's maintenance was less
than three pounds sterling a year [1855 exchange rate D.W.]. The voice
with which this infant seminary of the Muses first made itself heard
above the din of war was but feeble, but the institution was destined to
thrive, and to endow the world, for many successive generations, with the
golden fruits of science and genius.

Early in the spring, the war was seriously taken in hand by Farnese. It
has already been seen that the republic had been almost entirely driven
out of Flanders and Brabant. The Estates, however, still held Grave,
Megem, Batenburg, and Venlo upon the Meuse. That river formed, as it
were, a perfect circle of protection for the whole Province of Brabant,
and Farnese determined to make himself master of this great natural moat.
Afterwards, he meant to possess himself of the Rhine, flowing in a
parallel course, about twenty-five miles further to the east. In order to
gain and hold the Meuse, the first step was to reduce the city of Grave.
That town, upon the left or Brabant bank, was strongly fortified on its
land-side, where it was surrounded by low and fertile pastures, while,
upon the other, it depended upon its natural Toss, the river. It was,
according to Lord North and the Earl of Leicester, the "strongest town in
all the Low Countries, though but a little one."

Baron Hemart, a young Gueldrian noble, of small experience in military
affairs, commanded in the city, his garrison being eight hundred
soldiers, and about one thousand burgher guard. As early as January,
Farnese had ordered Count Mansfeld to lay siege to the place. Five forts
had accordingly been constructed, above and below the town, upon the left
bank of the river, while a bridge of boats thrown across the stream led
to a fortified camp on the opposite side. Mansfeld, Mondragon, Bobadil,
Aquila, and other distinguished veterans in Philip's service, were
engaged in the enterprise. A few unimportant skirmishes between Schenk
and the Spaniards had taken place, but the city was already hard pressed,
and, by the series of forts which environed it, was cut off from its
supplies. It was highly important, therefore, that Grave should be
relieved, with the least possible delay.

Early in Easter week, a force of three thousand men, under Hohenlo and
Sir John Norris, was accordingly despatched by Leicester, with orders, at
every hazard, to throw reinforcements and provisions into the place. They
took possession, at once, of a stone sconce, called the Mill-Fort, which
was guarded by fifty men, mostly boors of the country. These were nearly
all hanged for "using malicious words," and for "railing against Queen
Elizabeth," and--a sufficient number of men being left to maintain the
fort--the whole relieving force marched with great difficulty--for the
river was rapidly rising, and flooding the country--along the right bank
of the Meuse, taking possession of Batenburg and Ravenstein castles, as
they went. A force of four or five hundred Englishmen was then pushed
forward to a point almost exactly opposite Grave, and within an English
mile of the head of the bridge constructed by the Spaniards. Here, in the
night of Easter Tuesday, they rapidly formed an entrenched camp, upon the
dyke along the river, and, although molested by some armed vessels,
succeeded in establishing themselves in a most important position.

On the morning of Easter Wednesday, April 16, Mansfeld, perceiving that
the enemy had thus stolen a march upon him, ordered one thousand picked
troops, all Spaniards, under Aquila, Casco and other veterans, to assault
this advanced post. A reserve of two thousand was placed in readiness to
support the attack. The Spaniards slowly crossed the bridge, which was
swaying very dangerously with the current, and then charged the
entrenched camp at a run. A quarrel between the different regiments as to
the right of precedence precipitated the attack, before the reserve,
consisting of some picked companies of Mondragon's veterans, had been
able to arrive. Coming in breathless and fatigued, the first assailants
were readily repulsed in their first onset. Aquila then opportunely made
his appearance, and the attack was renewed with great vigour: The
defenders of the camp yielded at the third charge and fled in dismay,
while the Spaniards, leaping the barriers, scattered hither and thither
in the ardour of pursuit. The routed Englishmen fled swiftly along the
oozy dyke, in hopes of joining the main body of the relieving party, who
were expected to advance, with the dawn, from their position six miles
farther down the river. Two miles long the chace lasted, and it seemed
probable that the fugitives would be overtaken and destroyed, when, at
last, from behind a line of mounds which stretched towards Batenburg and
had masked their approach, appeared Count Hohenlo and Sir John Norris, at
the head of twenty-five hundred Englishmen and Hollanders. This force,
advanced as rapidly as the slippery ground and the fatigue of a two
hours' march would permit to the rescue of their friends, while the
retreating English rallied, turned upon their pursuers, and drove them
back over the path along which they had just been charging in the full
career of victory. The fortune of the day was changed, and in a few
minutes Hohenlo and Norris would have crossed the river and entered
Grave, when the Spanish companies of Bobadil and other commanders were
seen marching along the quaking bridge.

Three thousand men on each side now met at push of pike on the bank of
the Meuse. The rain-was pouring in torrents, the wind was blowing a gale,
the stream was rapidly rising, and threatening to overwhelm its shores.
By a tacit and mutual consent, both armies paused for a few moments in
full view of each other. After this brief interval they closed again,
breast to breast, in sharp and steady conflict. The ground, slippery with
rain and with blood, which was soon flowing almost as fast as the rain,
afforded an unsteady footing to the combatants. They staggered like
drunken men, fell upon their knees, or upon their backs, and still,
kneeling or rolling prostrate, maintained the deadly conflict. For the
space of an hour and a half the fierce encounter of human passion
outmastered the fury of the elements. Norris and Hohenlo fought at the
head of their columns, like paladins of old. The Englishman was wounded
in the mouth and breast, the Count was seen to gallop past one thousand
musketeers and caliver-men of the enemy, and to escape unscathed. But as
the strength of the soldiers exhausted itself, the violence of the
tempest increased. The floods of rain and the blasts of the hurricane at
last terminated the affray. The Spaniards, fairly conquered, were
compelled to a retreat, lest the rapidly rising river should sweep away
the frail and trembling bridge, over which they had passed to their
unsuccessful assault. The English and Netherlanders remained masters of
the field. The rising flood, too, which was fast converting the meadows
into a lake, was as useful to the conquerors as it was damaging to the
Spaniards.

In the course of the few following days, a large number of boats was
despatched before the very eyes of Parma, from Batenburg into Grave;
Hohenlo, who had "most desperately adventured his person" throughout the
whole affair, entering the town himself.

A force of five hundred men, together with provisions enough to last a
year, was thrown into the city, and the course of the Meuse was,
apparently, secured to the republic. In this important action about one
hundred and fifty Dutch and English were killed, and probably four
hundred Spaniards, including several distinguished officers.

The Earl of Leicester was incredibly elated so soon as the success of
this enterprise was known. "Oh that her Majesty knew," he cried, "how
easy a match now she hath with the King of Spain, and what millions of
afflicted people she hath relieved in these, countries. This summer, this
summer, I say, would make an end to her immortal glory." He was no friend
to his countryman, the gallant Sir John Norris--whom, however, he could
not help applauding on this occasion,--but he was in raptures with
Hohenlo. Next to God, he assured the Queen's government that the victory
was owing to the Count. "He is both a valiant man and a wise man, and the
painfullest that ever I knew," he said; adding--as a secret--that "five
hundred Englishmen of the best Flemish training had flatly and shamefully
run away," when the fight had been renewed by Hohenlo and Norris. He
recommended that her Majesty should, send her picture to the Count, worth
two hundred pounds, which he would value at more than one thousand pounds
in money, and he added that "for her sake the Count had greatly left his
drinking."

As for the Prince of Parma, Leicester looked upon him as conclusively
beaten. He spoke of him as "marvellously appalled" by this overthrow of
his forces; but he assured the government that if the Prince's "choler
should press him to seek revenge," he should soon be driven out of the
country. The Earl would follow him "at an inch," and effectually
frustrate all his undertakings. "If the Spaniard have such a May as he
has had an April," said Lord North, "it will put water in his wine."

Meantime, as St. George's Day was approaching, and as the Earl was fond
of banquets and ceremonies, it was thought desirable to hold a great
triumphal feast at Utrecht. His journey to that city from the Hague was a
triumphal procession. In all the towns through which he passed he was
entertained with military display, pompous harangues, interludes, dumb
shows, and allegories. At Amsterdam--a city which he compared to Venice
for situation and splendour, and where one thousand ships were constantly
lying--he was received with "sundry great whales and other fishes of
hugeness," that gambolled about his vessel, and convoyed him to the
shore. These monsters of the deep presented him to the burgomaster and
magistrates who were awaiting him on the quay. The burgomaster made him a
Latin oration, to which Dr. Bartholomew Clerk responded, and then the
Earl was ushered to the grand square, upon which, in his honour, a
magnificent living picture was exhibited, in which he figured as Moses,
at the head of the Israelites, smiting the Philistines hip and thigh.
After much mighty banqueting in Amsterdam, as in the other cities, the
governor-general came to Utrecht. Through the streets of this antique and
most picturesque city flows the palsied current of the Rhine, and every
barge and bridge were decorated with the flowers of spring. Upon this
spot, where, eight centuries before the Anglo-Saxon, Willebrod had first
astonished the wild Frisians with the pacific doctrines of Jesus, and had
been stoned to death as his reward, stood now a more arrogant
representative of English piety. The balconies were crowded with fair
women, and decorated with scarves and banners. From the Earl's
residence--the ancient palace of the Knights of Rhodes--to the cathedral,
the way was lined with a double row of burgher guards, wearing red roses
on their arms, and apparelled in the splendid uniforms for which the
Netherlanders were celebrated. Trumpeters in scarlet and silver, barons,
knights, and great officers, in cloth of gold and silks of all colours;
the young Earl of Essex, whose career was to be so romantic, and whose
fate so tragic; those two ominous personages, the deposed little
archbishop-elector of Cologne, with his melancholy face, and the unlucky
Don Antonio, Pretender of Portugal, for whom, dead or alive, thirty
thousand crowns and a dukedom were perpetually offered by Philip II.;
young Maurice of Nassau, the future controller of European destinies;
great counsellors of state, gentlemen, guardsmen, and portcullis-herald,
with the coat of arms of Elizabeth, rode in solemn procession along. Then
great Leicester himself, "most princelike in the robes of his order,"
guarded by a troop of burghers, and by his own fifty halberd-men in
scarlet cloaks trimmed with white and purple velvet, pranced gorgeously
by.

The ancient cathedral, built on the spot where Saint Willebrod had once
ministered, with its light, tapering, brick tower, three hundred and
sixty feet in height, its exquisitely mullioned windows, and its
elegantly foliaged columns, soon received the glittering throng. Hence,
after due religious ceremonies, and an English sermon from Master
Knewstubs, Leicester's chaplain, was a solemn march back again to the
palace, where a stupendous banquet was already laid in the great hall.

On the dais at the upper end of the table, blazing with plate and
crystal, stood the royal chair, with the Queen's plate and knife and fork
before it, exactly as if she had been present, while Leicester's trencher
and stool were set respectfully quite at the edge of the board. In the
neighbourhood of this post of honour sat Count Maurice, the Elector, the
Pretender, and many illustrious English personages, with the fair Agnes
Mansfeld, Princess Chimay, the daughters of William the Silent, and other
dames of high degree.

Before the covers were removed, came limping up to the dais grim-visaged
Martin Schenk, freshly wounded, but triumphant, from the sack of Werll,
and black John Norris, scarcely cured of the spearwounds in his face and
breast received at the relief of Grave. The sword of knighthood was laid
upon the shoulder of each hero, by the Earl of Leicester, as her
Majesty's vicegerent; and then the ushers marshalled the mighty feast.
Meats in the shape of lions, tigers, dragons, and leopards, flanked by
peacocks, swans, pheasants, and turkeys "in their natural feathers as in
their greatest pride," disappeared, course after course, sonorous metal
blowing meanwhile the most triumphant airs. After the banquet came
dancing, vaulting, tumbling; together with the "forces of Hercules, which
gave great delight to the strangers," after which the company separated
until evensong.

Then again, "great was the feast," says the chronicler,--a mighty supper
following hard upon the gigantic dinner. After this there was tilting at
the barriers, the young Earl of Essex and other knights bearing
themselves more chivalrously than would seem to comport with so much
eating and drinking. Then, horrible to relate, came another "most
sumptuous banquet of sugar-meates for the men-at-arms and the ladies,"
after which, it being now midnight, the Lord of Leicester bade the whole
company good rest, and the men-at-arms and ladies took their leave.

But while all this chivalrous banqueting and holiday-making was in hand,
the Prince of Parma was in reality not quite so much "appalled" by the
relief of Grave as his antagonist had imagined. The Earl, flushed with
the success of Hohenlo, already believed himself master of the country,
and assured his government, that, if he should be reasonably well
supplied, he would have Antwerp back again and Bruges besides before mid
June. Never, said he, was "the Prince of Parma so dejected nor so
melancholy since he came into these countries, nor so far out of
courage." And it is quite true that Alexander had reason to be
discouraged. He had but eight or nine thousand men, and no money to pay
even this little force. The soldiers were perishing daily, and nearly all
the survivors were described by their chief, as sick or maimed. The
famine in the obedient Provinces was universal, the whole population was
desperate with hunger; and the merchants, frightened by Drake's
successes, and appalled by the ruin all around them, drew their
purse-strings inexorably. "I know not to what saint to devote myself,"
said Alexander. He had been compelled, by the movement before Grave, to
withdraw Haultepenne from the projected enterprise against Neusz, and he
was quite aware of the cheerful view which Leicester was inclined to take
of their relative positions. "The English think they are going to do
great things," said he; "and consider themselves masters of the field."

Nevertheless, on the 11th May, the dejected melancholy man had left
Brussels, and joined his little army, consisting of three thousand
Spaniards and five thousand of all other nations. His veterans, though
unpaid; ragged, and half-starved were in raptures to, have their idolized
commander among them again, and vowed that under his guidance there was
nothing which they could not accomplish. The King's honour, his own, that
of the army, all were pledged to take the city. On the success of, that
enterprise, he said, depended all his past conquests, and every hope for
the future. Leicester and the English, whom he called the head and body
of the rebel forces, were equally pledged to relieve the place, and were
bent upon meeting him in the field. The Earl had taken some forts in the
Batavia--Betuwe; or "good meadow," which he pronounced as fertile and
about as large as Herefordshire,--and was now threatening Nymegen, a city
which had been gained for Philip by the last effort of Schenk, on the
royalist side. He was now observing Alexander's demonstrations against
Grave; but, after the recent success in victualling that place, he felt a
just confidence in its security.

On the 31st May the trenches were commenced, and on the 5th June the
batteries were opened. The work went rapidly forward when Farnese was in
the field. "The Prince of Parma doth batter it like a Prince," said Lord
North, admiring the enemy with the enthusiasm of an honest soldier: On
the 6th of June, as Alexander rode through the camp to reconnoitre,
previous to an attack. A well-directed cannon ball carried away the
hinder half, of his horse. The Prince fell to the ground, and, for a
moment, dismay was in the Spanish ranks. At the next instant, though
somewhat bruised, he was on his feet again, and, having found the breach
sufficiently promising, he determined on the assault.

As a preliminary measure, he wished to occupy a tower which had been
battered nearly to ruins, situate near the river. Captain de Solis was
ordered, with sixty veterans, to take possession of this tower, and to
"have a look at the countenance of the enemy, without amusing himself
with anything else." The tower was soon secured, but Solis, in
disobedience to his written instructions led his men against the ravelin,
which was still in a state of perfect defence. A musket-ball soon
stretched him dead beneath the wall, and his followers, still attempting
to enter the impracticable breach, were repelled by a shower of stones
and blazing pitch-hoops. Hot sand; too, poured from sieves and baskets,
insinuated itself within the armour of the Spaniards, and occasioned such
exquisite suffering, that many threw themselves into the river to allay
the pain. Emerging refreshed, but confused, they attempted in vain to
renew the onset. Several of the little band were slain, the assault was
quite unsuccessful, and the trumpet sounded a recal. So completely
discomfited were the Spaniards by this repulse, and so thoroughly at
their ease were the besieged, that a soldier let himself down from the
ramparts of the town for the sake of plundering the body of Captain
Solis, who was richly dressed, and, having accomplished this feat, was
quietly helped back again by his comrades from above.

To the surprise of the besiegers, however, on the very next morning came
a request from the governor of the city, Baron Hemart, to negotiate for a
surrender. Alexander was, naturally, but too glad to grant easy terms,
and upon the 7th of June the garrison left the town with colours
displayed and drums beating, and the Prince of Parma marched into it, at
the head of his troops. He found a year's provision there for six
thousand men, while, at the same time, the walls had suffered so little,
that he must have been obliged to wait long for a practicable breach.

"There was no good reason even for women to have surrendered the place,"
exclaimed Leicester, when he heard the news. And the Earl had cause to be
enraged at such a result. He had received a letter only the day before,
signed by Hemart himself and by all the officers in Grave, asserting
their determination and ability to hold the place for a good five months,
or for an indefinite period, and until they should be relieved. And
indeed all the officers, with three exceptions, had protested against the
base surrender. But at the bottom of the catastrophe--of the disastrous
loss of the city and the utter ruin of young Hemart--was a woman. The
governor was governed by his mistress, a lady of good family in the
place, but of Spanish inclinations, and she, for some mysterious reasons,
had persuaded him thus voluntarily to capitulate.

Parma lost no time, however, in exulting over his success. Upon the same
day the towns of Megen and Batenburg surrendered to him, and immediately
afterwards siege was laid to Venlo, a town of importance, lying thirty
miles farther up the Meuse. The wife and family of Martin Schenk were in
the city, together with two hundred horses, and from forty to one hundred
thousand crowns in money, plate; and furniture belonging to him.

That bold partisan, accompanied by the mad Welshman, Roger Williams, at
the head of one hundred and thirty English lances and thirty of Schenk's
men, made a wild nocturnal attempt to cut their way through the besieging
force, and penetrate to the city. They passed through the enemy's lines,
killed all the corps-de-garde, and many Spanish troopers--the terrible
Martin's own hand being most effective in this midnight slaughter--and
reached the very door of Parma's tent, where they killed his secretary
and many of his guards. It was even reported; and generally believed,
that Farnese himself had been in imminent danger, that Schenk had fired
his pistol at him unsuccessfully, and had then struck him on the head
with its butt-end, and that the Prince had only saved his life by leaping
from his horse, and scrambling through a ditch. But these seem to have
been fables. The alarm at last became general, the dawn of a summer's day
was fast approaching; the drums beat to arms, and the bold marauders were
obliged to effect their retreat, as they best might, hotly pursued by
near two thousand men. Having slain many of, the Spanish army, and lost
nearly half their own number, they at last obtained shelter in
Wachtendonk.

Soon afterwards the place capitulated without waiting for a battery, upon
moderate terms. Schenk's wife was sent away (28 June 1586) courteously
with her family, in a coach and four, and with as much "apparel" as might
be carried with her. His property was confiscated, for "no fair wars
could be made with him."

Thus, within a few weeks after taking the field, the "dejected,
melancholy" man, who was so "out of courage," and the soldiers who were
so "marvellously beginning to run away"--according to the Earl of
Leicester--had swept their enemy from every town on the Meuse. That river
was now, throughout its whole course, in the power of the Spaniards. The
Province of Brabant became thoroughly guarded again by its foes, and the
enemy's road was opened into the northern Provinces.

Leicester, meantime, had not distinguished himself. It must be confessed
that he had been sadly out-generalled. The man who had talked of
following the enemy inch by inch, and who had pledged himself not only to
protect Grave, and any other place that might be attacked, but even to
recover Antwerp and Bruges within a few weeks, had wasted the time in
very desultory operations. After the St. George feasting, Knewstub
sermons, and forces of Hercules, were all finished, the Earl had taken
the field with five thousand foot and fifteen hundred horse. His
intention was to clear the Yssel; by getting possession of Doesburg and
Zutphen, but, hearing of Parma's demonstrations upon Grave, he abandoned
the contemplated siege of those cities, and came to Arnheim. He then
crossed the Rhine into the Isle of Batavia, and thence, after taking a
few sconces of inferior importance--while Schenk, meanwhile, was building
on the Island of Gravenweert, at the bifurcation of the Rhine and Waal,
the sconce so celebrated a century later as 'Schenk's Fort'
(Schenkenschans)---he was preparing to pass the Waal in order to attack
Farnese, when he heard to his astonishment, of the surrender of Grave.

He could therefore--to his chagrin--no longer save that important city,
but he could, at least, cut off the head of the culprit. Leicester was in
Bommel when he heard of Baron Hemart's faint-heartedness or treachery,
and his wrath was extravagant in proportion to the exultation with which
his previous success had inspired him. He breathed nothing but revenge
against the coward and the traitor, who had delivered up the town in
"such lewd and beastly sort."

"I will never depart hence," he said, "till by the goodness of God I be
satisfied someway of this villain's treachery." There could be little
doubt that Hemart deserved punishment. There could be as little that
Leicester would mete it out to him in ample measure. "The lewd villain
who gave up Grave," said he, "and the captains as deep in fault as
himself, shall all suffer together."

Hemart came boldly to meet him. "The honest man came to me at Bommel,"
said Leicester, and he assured the government that it was in the hope of
persuading the magistrates of that and other towns to imitate his own
treachery.

But the magistrates straightway delivered the culprit to the
governor-general, who immediately placed him under arrest. A
court-martial was summoned, 26th of June, at Utrecht, consisting of
Hohenlo, Essex, and other distinguished officers. They found that the
conduct of the prisoner merited death, but left it to the Earl to decide
whether various extenuating circumstances did not justify a pardon.
Hohenlo and Norris exerted themselves to procure a mitigation of the
young man's sentence, and they excited thereby the governor's deep
indignation. Norris, according to Leicester, was in love with the
culprit's aunt, and was therefore especially desirous of saving his life.
Moreover, much use was made of the discredit which had been thrown by the
Queen on the Earl's authority, and it was openly maintained, that, being
no longer governor-general, he had no authority to order execution upon a
Netherland officer.

The favourable circumstances urged in the case, were, that Hemart was a
young man, without experience in military matters, and that he had been
overcome by the supplications and outcries of the women, panic-struck
after the first assault. There were no direct proofs of treachery, or
even of personal cowardice. He begged hard for a pardon, not on account
of his life, but for the sake of his reputation. He earnestly implored
permission to serve under the Queen of England, as a private soldier,
without pay, on land or sea, for as many years as she should specify, and
to be selected for the most dangerous employments, in order that, before
he died, he might wipe out the disgrace, which, through his fault, in an
hour of weakness, had come upon an ancient and honourable house. Much
interest was made for him--his family connection being powerful--and a
general impression prevailing that he had erred through folly rather than
deep guilt. But Leicester beating himself upon the breast--as he was wont
when excited--swore that there should be no pardon for such a traitor.
The States of Holland and Zeeland, likewise, were decidedly in favour of
a severe example.

Hemart was accordingly led to the scaffold on the 28th June. He spoke to
the people with great calmness, and, in two languages, French and
Flemish, declared that he was guiltless of treachery, but that the terror
and tears of the women, in an hour of panic, had made a coward of him. He
was beheaded, standing. The two captains, Du Ban and Koeboekum, who had
also been condemned, suffered with him. A third captain, likewise
convicted, was, "for very just cause,", pardoned by Leicester. The Earl
persisted in believing that Hemart had surrendered the city as part of a
deliberate plan, and affirmed that in such a time, when men had come to
think no more of giving up a town than of abandoning a house, it was
highly necessary to afford an example to traitors and satisfaction to the
people. And the people were thoroughly satisfied, according to the
governor, and only expressed their regret that three or four members of
the States-General could not have their heads cut off as well, being as
arrant knaves as Henlart; "and so I think they be," added Leicester.

Parma having thus made himself master of the Meuse, lost no time in
making a demonstration upon the parallel course of the Rhine, thirty
miles farther east. Schenk, Kloet; and other partisans, kept that portion
of the archi-episcopate and of Westphalia in a state of perpetual
commotion. Early in the preceding year, Count de Meurs had, by a
fortunate stratagem, captured the town of Neusz for the deposed elector,
and Herman Kloet, a young and most determined Geldrian soldier, now
commanded in the place.

The Elector Ernest had made a visit in disguise to the camp of Parma, and
had represented the necessity of recovering the city. It had become the
stronghold of heretics, rebels, and banditti. The Rhine was in their
hands, and with it the perpetual power of disturbing the loyal
Netherlands. It was as much the interest of his Catholic Majesty as that
of the Archbishop that Neusz should be restored to its lawful owner.
Parma had felt the force of this reasoning, and had early in the year
sent Haultepenne to invest the city. He had been obliged to recal that
commander during the siege of Grave. The place being reduced, Alexander,
before the grass could grow beneath his feet advanced to the Rhine in
person. Early in July he appeared before the walls of Neusz with eight
thousand foot and two thousand horse. The garrison under Kloet numbered
scarcely more than sixteen hundred effective soldiers, all Netherlanders
and Germans, none being English.

The city is twenty-miles below Cologne. It was so well fortified that a
century before it had stood a year's siege from the famous Charles the
Bold, who, after all, had been obliged to retire. It had also resisted
the strenuous efforts of Charles the Fifth; and was now stronger than it
ever had been. It was thoroughly well provisioned, so that it was safe
enough "if those within it," said Leicester, "be men." The Earl expressed
the opinion, however, that "those fellows were not good to defend towns,
unless the besiegers were obliged to swim to the attack." The issue was
to show whether the sarcasm were just or not. Meantime the town was
considered by the governor-general to be secure, "unless towns were to be
had for the asking."

Neusz is not immediately upon the Rhine, but that river, which sweeps
away in a north-easterly direction from the walls, throws out an arm
which completely encircles the town. A part of the place, cut into an
island by the Erpt, was strengthened by two redoubts. This island was
abandoned, as being too weak to hold, and the Spaniards took possession
of it immediately. There were various preliminary and sanguinary sorties
and skirmishes, during which the Spaniards after having been once driven
from the island, again occupied that position. Archbishop Ernest came
into the camp, and, before proceeding to a cannonade, Parma offered to
the city certain terms of capitulation, which were approved by that
prelate. Kloet replied to this proposal, that he was wedded to the town
and to his honour, which were as one. These he was incapable of
sacrificing, but his life he was ready to lay down. There was, through
some misapprehension, a delay in reporting this answer to Farnese.
Meantime that general became impatient, and advanced to the battery of
the Italian regiment. Pretending to be a plenipotentiary from the
commander-in-chief, he expostulated in a loud voice at the slowness of
their counsels. Hardly had he begun to speak, when a shower of balls
rattled about him. His own soldiers were terrified at his danger, and a
cry arose in the town that "Holofernese"--as the Flemings and Germans
were accustomed to nickname Farnese--was dead. Strange to relate, he was
quite unharmed, and walked back to his tent with dignified slowness and a
very frowning face. It was said that this breach of truce had been begun
by the Spaniards, who had fired first, and had been immediately answered
by the town. This was hotly denied, and Parma sent Colonel Tasais with a
flag of truce to the commander, to rebuke and to desire an explanation of
this dishonourable conduct.

The answer given, or imagined, was that Commander Kloet had been sound
asleep, but that he now much regretted this untoward accident. The
explanation was received with derision, for it seemed hardly probable
that so young and energetic a soldier would take the opportunity to
refresh himself with slumber at a moment when a treaty for the
capitulation of a city under his charge was under discussion. This
terminated the negotiation.

A few days afterwards, the feast of St James was celebrated in the
Spanish camp, with bonfires and other demonstrations of hilarity. The
townsmen are said to have desecrated the same holiday by roasting alive
in the market-place two unfortunate soldiers, who had been captured in a
sortie a few days before; besides burning the body of the holy Saint
Quirinus, with other holy relics. The detestable deed was to be most
horribly avenged.

A steady cannonade from forty-five great guns was kept up from 2 A.M. of
July 15 until the dawn of the following day; the cannoneers--being all
provided with milk and vinegar to cool the pieces. At daybreak the
assault was ordered. Eight separate attacks were made with the usual
impetuosity of Spaniards, and were steadily repulsed.

At the ninth, the outer wall was carried, and the Spaniards shouting
"Santiago" poured over it, bearing back all resistance. An Italian Knight
of the Sepulchre, Cesar Guidiccioni by name, and a Spanish ensign, one
Alphonao de Mesa, with his colours in one hand and a ladder in the other,
each claimed the honour of having first mounted the breach. Both being
deemed equally worthy of reward, Parma, after the city had been won, took
from his own cap a sprig of jewels and a golden wheat-ear ornamented with
a gem, which he had himself worn in place of a plume, and thus presented
each with a brilliant token of his regard. The wall was then strengthened
against the inner line of fortification, and all night long a desperate
conflict was maintained in the dark upon the narrow space between the two
barriers. Before daylight Kloet, who then, as always, had led his men in
the moat desperate adventures, was carried into the town, wounded in five
places, and with his leg almost severed at the thigh. "'Tis the bravest
man," said the enthusiastic Lord North, "that was ever heard of in the
world."--"He is but a boy," said Alexander Farnese, "but a commander of
extraordinary capacity and valour."

Early in the morning, when this mishap was known, an officer was sent to
the camp of the besiegers to treat. The soldiers received him with
furious laughter, and denied him access to the general. "Commander Kloet
had waked from his nap at a wrong time," they said, "and the Prince of
Parma was now sound asleep, in his turn." There was no possibility of
commencing a negotiation. The Spaniards, heated by the conflict, maddened
by opposition, and inspired by the desire to sack a wealthy city,
overpowered all resistance. "My little soldiers were not to be
restrained," said Farnese, and so compelling a reluctant consent on the
part of the commander-in-chief to an assault, the Italian and Spanish
legions poured into the town at two opposite gates; which were no longer
strong enough to withstand the enemy. The two streams met in the heart of
the place, and swept every living thing in their path out of existence.
The garrison was butchered to a man, and subsequently many of the
inhabitants--men, women, and children-also, although the women; to the
honour of Alexander, had been at first secured from harm in some of the
churches, where they had been ordered to take refuge. The first blast of
indignation was against the commandant of the place. Alexander, who had
admired, his courage, was not unfavourably disposed towards him, but
Archbishop Ernest vehemently, demanded his immediate death, as a personal
favour to himself. As the churchman was nominally sovereign of the city
although in reality a beggarly dependant on Philip's alms, Farnese felt
bound to comply. The manner in which it was at first supposed that the
Bishop's Christian request had; been complied, with, sent a shudder
through every-heart in the Netherlands. "They took Kloet, wounded as he
was," said Lord North, "and first strangled, him, then smeared him with
pitch, and burnt him with gunpowder; thus, with their holiness, they,
made a tragical end of an heroical service. It is wondered that the
Prince would suffer so great an outrage to be done to so noble a soldier,
who did but his duty."

But this was an error. A Jesuit priest was sent to the house of the
commandant, for a humane effort was thought necessary in order to save
the soul of the man whose life was forfeited for the crime of defending
his city. The culprit was found lying in bed. His wife, a woman of
remarkable beauty, with her sister, was in attendance upon him. The
spectacle of those two fair women, nursing a wounded soldier fallen upon
the field of honour, might have softened devils with sympathy. But the
Jesuit was closely followed by a band of soldiers, who, notwithstanding
the supplications of the women, and the demand of Kloet to be indulged
with a soldier's death, tied a rope round the commandant's necks dragged
him from his bed, and hanged him from his own window. The Calvinist
clergyman, Fosserus of Oppenheim, the deacons of the congregation, two
military officers, and--said Parma--"forty other rascals," were murdered
in the same way at the same time. The bodies remained at the window till
they were devoured by the flames, which soon consumed the house. For a
vast conflagration, caused none knew whether by accident, by the despair
of the inhabitants; by the previous, arrangements of the commandant, by
the latest-arrived bands of the besiegers enraged that the Italians and
Spaniards had been beforehand with them in the spoils, or--as Farnese
more maturely believed--by the special agency of the Almighty, offended
with the burning of Saint Quirinus,--now came to complete the horror of
the scene. Three-quarters of the town were at once in a blaze. The
churches, where the affrighted women had been cowering during the sack
and slaughter, were soon on fire, and now, amid the crash of falling
houses and the uproar of the drunken soldiery, those unhappy victims were
seen flitting along the flaming streets; seeking refuge against the fury
of the elements in the more horrible cruelty of man. The fire lasted all
day and night, and not one stone would have been left upon another, had
not the body of a second saint, saved on a former occasion from the
heretics by the piety of a citizen, been fortunately deposited in his
house. At this point the conflagration was stayed--for the flames refused
to consume these holy relics--but almost the whole of the town was
destroyed, while at least four thousand people, citizens and soldiers,
had perished by sword or fire.

Three hundred survivors of the garrison took refuge in a tower. Its base
was surrounded, and, after brief parley, they descended as prisoners. The
Prince and Haultepenne attempted in vain to protect them against the fury
of the soldiers, and every man of them was instantly put to death.

The next day, Alexander gave orders that the wife and sister of the
commandant should be protected--for they had escaped, as if by miracle,
from all the horrors of that day and night--and sent, under escort, to
their friends! Neusz had nearly ceased to exist, for according to
contemporaneous accounts, but eight houses had escaped destruction.

And the reflection was most painful to Leicester and to every generous
Englishman or Netherlander in the country, that this important city and
its heroic defenders might have been preserved, but for want of harmony
and want of money. Twice had the Earl got together a force of four
thousand men for the relief of the place, and twice had he been obliged
to disband them again for the lack of funds to set them in the field.

He had pawned his plate and other valuables, exhausted his credit, and
had nothing for it but to wait for the Queen's tardy remittances, and to
wrangle with the States; for the leaders of that body were unwilling to
accord large supplies to a man who had become personally suspected by
them, and was the representative of a deeply-suspected government.
Meanwhile, one-third at least of the money which really found its way
from time to time out of England, was filched from the "poor starved
wretches," as Leicester called his soldiers, by the dishonesty of Norris,
uncle of Sir John and army-treasurer. This man was growing so rich on his
peculations, on his commissions, and on his profits from paying the
troops in a depreciated coin, that Leicester declared the whole revenue
of his own landed estates in England to be less than that functionary's
annual income. Thus it was difficult to say whether the "ragged rogues"
of Elizabeth or the maimed and neglected soldiers of Philip were in the
more pitiable plight.

The only consolation in the recent reduction of Neusz was to be found in
the fact that Parma had only gained a position, for the town had ceased
to exist; and in the fiction that he had paid for his triumph by the loss
of six thousand soldiers, killed and wounded. In reality not more than
five hundred of Farnese's army lost their lives, and although the town,
excepting some churches, had certainly been destroyed; yet the Prince was
now master of the Rhine as far as Cologne, and of the Meuse as far as
Grave. The famine which pressed so sorely upon him, might now be
relieved, and his military communications with Germany be considered
secure.

The conqueror now turned his attention to Rheinberg, twenty-five miles
farther down the river.

Sir Philip Sidney had not been well satisfied by the comparative idleness
in which, from these various circumstances; he had been compelled to
remain. Early in the spring he had been desirous of making an attack upon
Flanders by capturing the town of Steenberg. The faithful Roger Williams
had strongly seconded the proposal. "We wish to show your Excellency,"
said he to Leicester, "that we are not sound asleep." The Welshman was
not likely to be accused of somnolence, but on this occasion Sidney and
himself had been overruled. At a later moment, and during the siege of
Neusz, Sir Philip had the satisfaction of making a successful foray into
Flanders.

The expedition had been planned by Prince Maurice of Nassau, and was his.
earliest military achievement. He proposed carrying by surprise, the city
of Axel, a well-built, strongly-fortified town on the south-western edge
of the great Scheldt estuary, and very important from its position. Its
acquisition would make the hold of the patriots and the English upon
Sluys and Ostend more secure, and give them many opportunities of
annoying the enemy in Flanders.

Early in July, Maurice wrote to the Earl of Leicester, communicating the
particulars of his scheme, but begging that the affair might be "very
secretly handled," and kept from every one but Sidney. Leicester
accordingly sent his nephew to Maurice that they might consult together
upon the enterprise, and make sure "that there was no ill intent, there
being so much treachery in the world." Sidney found no treachery in young
Maurice, but only, a noble and intelligent love of adventure, and the two
arranged their plans in harmony.

Leicester, then, in order to deceive the enemy, came to Bergen-op-Zoom,
with five hundred men, where he remained two days, not sleeping a wink,
as he averred, during the whole time. In the night of Tuesday, 16th of
July, the five hundred English soldiers were despatched by water, under
charge of Lord Willoughby, "who," said the Earl, "would needs go with
them." Young Hatton, too, son of Sir Christopher, also volunteered on the
service, "as his first nursling." Sidney had, five hundred of his own
Zeeland regiment in readiness, and the rendezvous was upon the broad
waters of the Scheldt, opposite Flushing. The plan was neatly carried
out, and the united flotilla, in a dark, calm, midsummer's night, rowed
across the smooth estuary and landed at Ter Neuse, about a league from
Axel. Here they were joined by Maurice with some Netherland companies,
and the united troops, between two and three thousand strong, marched at
once to the place proposed. Before two in the morning they had reached
Axel, but found the moat very deep. Forty soldiers immediately plunged
in, however, carrying their ladders with them, swam across, scaled the
rampart, killed, the guard, whom they found asleep in their beds, and
opened the gates for their comrades. The whole force then marched in, the
Dutch companies under Colonel Pyion being first, Lord Willoughby's men
being second, and Sir Philip with his Zeelanders bringing up the rear.
The garrison, between five and six hundred in number, though surprised,
resisted gallantly, and were all put to the sword. Of the invaders, not a
single man lost his life. Sidney most generously rewarded from his own
purse the adventurous soldiers who had swum the moat; and it was to his
care and intelligence that the success of Prince Maurice's scheme was
generally attributed. The achievement was hailed with great satisfaction,
and it somewhat raised the drooping spirits of the patriots after their
severe losses at Grave and Venlo. "This victory hath happened in good
time," wrote Thomas Cecil to his father, "and hath made us somewhat to
lift up our heads." A garrison of eight hundred, under Colonel Pyron, was
left in Axel, and the dykes around were then pierced. Upwards of two
millions' worth of property in grass, cattle, corn, was thus immediately
destroyed in the territory of the obedient Netherlands.

After an unsuccessful attempt to surprise Gravelines, the governor of
which place, the veteran La Motte, was not so easily taken napping; Sir
Philip having gained much reputation by this conquest of Axel, then
joined the main body of the army, under Leicester, at Arnheim.

Yet, after all, Sir Philip had not grown in favour with her Majesty
during his service in the Low Countries. He had also been disappointed in
the government of Zeeland, to which post his uncle had destined him. The
cause of Leicester's ambition had been frustrated by the policy of
Barneveld and Buys, in pursuance of which Count or Prince Maurice--as he
was now purposely designated, in order that his rank might surpass that
of the Earl--had become stadholder and captain general both of Holland
and Zeeland. The Earl had given his nephew, however, the colonelcy of the
Zeeland regiment, vacant by the death of Admiral Haultain on the
Kowenstyn Dyke. This promotion had excited much anger among the high
officers in the Netherlands who, at the instigation of Count Hohenlo, had
presented a remonstrance upon the subject to the governor-general. It had
always been the custom, they said, with the late Prince of Orange, to
confer promotion according to seniority, without regard to social rank,
and they were therefore unwilling that a young foreigner, who had just
entered the service; should thus be advanced over the heads of veterans
who had been campaigning there so many weary years. At the same time the
gentlemen who signed the paper protested to Sir Philip, in another
letter, "with all the same hands," that they had no personal feeling
towards him, but, on the contrary, that they wished him all honour.

Young Maurice himself had always manifested the most friendly feelings
toward Sidney, although influenced in his action by the statesmen who
were already organizing a powerful opposition to Leicester. "Count
Maurice showed himself constantly, kind in the matter of the regiment,"
said Sir Philip, "but Mr. Paul Buss has so many busses in his head, such
as you shall find he will be to God and man about one pitch. Happy is the
communication of them that join in the fear of God." Hohenlo, too, or
Hollock, as he was called by the French and English, was much governed by
Buys and Olden-Barneveld. Reckless and daring, but loose of life and
uncertain of purpose, he was most dangerous, unless under safe guidance.
Roger Williams--who vowed that but for the love he bore to Sidney and
Leicester, he would not remain ten days in the Netherlands--was much
disgusted by Hohenlo's conduct in regard to the Zeeland regiment. "'Tis a
mutinous request of Hollock," said he, "that strangers should not command
Netherlanders. He and his Alemaynes are farther born from Zeeland than
Sir Philip is. Either you must make Hollock assured to you, or you must
disgrace him. If he will not be yours, I will show you means to
disinherit him of all his commands at small danger. What service doth he,
Count Solms, Count Overatein, with their Almaynes, but spend treasure and
consume great contributions?"

It was, very natural that the chivalrous Sidney, who had come to the
Netherlands to win glory in the field, should be desirous of posts that
would bring danger and distinction with them. He was not there merely
that he might govern Flushing, important as it was, particularly as the
garrison was, according to his statement, about as able to maintain the
town, "as the Tower was to answer for London." He disapproved of his
wife's inclination to join him in Holland, for he was likely--so he wrote
to her father, Walsingham--"to run such a course as would not be fit for
any of the feminine gender." He had been, however; grieved to the heart,
by the spectacle which was perpetually exhibited of the Queen's
parsimony, and of the consequent suffering of the soldiers. Twelve or
fifteen thousand Englishmen were serving in the Netherlands--more than
two thirds of them in her Majesty's immediate employment. No troops had
ever fought better, or more honourably maintained the ancient glory of
England. But rarely had more ragged and wretched warriors been seen than
they, after a few months' campaigning.

The Irish Kernes--some fifteen hundred of whom were among the
auxiliaries--were better off, for they habitually dispensed with
clothing; an apron from waist to knee being the only protection of these
wild Kelts, who fought with the valour, and nearly, in the costume of
Homeric heroes. Fearing nothing, needing nothing, sparing nothing, they
stalked about the fens of Zeeland upon their long stilts, or leaped
across running rivers, scaling ramparts, robbing the highways, burning,
butchering, and maltreating the villages and their inhabitants, with as
little regard for the laws of Christian warfare as for those of civilized
costume.

Other soldiers, more sophisticated as to apparel, were less at their
ease. The generous Sidney spent all his means, and loaded himself with
debt, in order to relieve the necessities of the poor soldiers. He
protested that if the Queen would not pay her troops, she would lose her
troops, but that no living man should say the fault was in him. "What
relief I can do them I will," he wrote to his father-in-law; "I will
spare no danger, if occasion serves. I am sure that no creature shall lay
injustice to my charge."

Very soon it was discovered that the starving troops had to contend not
only with the Queen's niggardliness but with the dishonesty of her
agents. Treasurer Norris was constantly accused by Leicester and Sidney
of gross peculation. Five per cent., according to Sir Philip, was lost to
the Zeeland soldiers in every payment, "and God knows," he said, "they
want no such hindrance, being scarce able to keep life with their entire
pay. Truly it is but poor increase to her Majesty, considering what loss
it is to the miserable soldier." Discipline and endurance were sure to be
sacrificed, in the end, to such short-sighted economy. "When soldiers,"
said Sidney, "grow to despair, and give up towns, then it is too late to
buy with hundred thousands what might have been saved with a trifle."

This plain dealing, on the part of Sidney, was anything but agreeable to
the Queen, who was far from feeling regret that his high-soaring
expectations had been somewhat blighted in the Provinces. He often
expressed his mortification that her Majesty was disposed to interpret
everything to, his disadvantage. "I understand," said he, "that I am
called ambitious, and very proud at home, but certainly, if they knew my
heart, they would not altogether so judge me." Elizabeth had taken part
with Hohenlo against Sir Philip in the matter of the Zeeland regiment,
and in this perhaps she was not entirely to be blamed. But she inveighed
needlessly against his ambitious seeking of the office, and--as
Walsingham observed--"she was very apt, upon every light occasion, to
find fault with him." It is probable that his complaints against the army
treasurer, and his manful defence of the "miserable soldiers," more than
counterbalanced, in the Queen's estimation, his chivalry in the field.

Nevertheless he had now the satisfaction of having gained an important
city in Flanders; and on subsequently joining the army under his uncle,
he indulged the hope of earning still greater distinction.

Martin Schenk had meanwhile been successfully defending Rheinberg, for
several weeks, against Parma's forces. It was necessary, however, that
Leicester, notwithstanding the impoverished condition of his troops,
should make some diversion, while his formidable antagonist was thus
carrying all before him.

He assembled, accordingly, in the month of August, all the troops that
could be brought into the field, and reviewed them, with much ceremony,
in the neighbourhood of Arnheim. His army--barely numbered seven thousand
foot and two thousand horse, but he gave out, very extensively, that he
had fourteen thousand under his command, and he was moreover expecting a
force of three thousand reiters, and as many pikemen recently levied in
Germany. Lord Essex was general of the cavalry, Sir William Pelham--a
distinguished soldier, who had recently arrived out of England, after the
most urgent solicitations to the Queen, for that end, by Leicester--was
lord-marshal of the camp, and Sir John Norris was colonel-general of the
infantry.

After the parade, two sermons were preached upon the hillside
to the soldiers, and then there was a council of war: It was
decided--notwithstanding the Earl's announcement of his intentions to
attack Parma in person--that the condition of the army did not warrant
such an enterprise. It was thought better to lay siege to Zutphen. This
step, if successful, would place in the power of the republic and her
ally a city of great importance and strength. In every event the attempt
would probably compel Farnese to raise the siege of Berg.

Leicester, accordingly, with "his brave troop of able and likely
men"--five thousand of the infantry being English--advanced as far as
Doesburg. This city, seated at the confluence of the ancient canal of
Drusus and the Yssel, five miles above Zutphen, it was necessary, as a
preliminary measure, to secure. It was not a very strong place, being
rather slightly walled with brick, and with a foss drawing not more than
three feet of water. By the 30th August it had been completely invested.

On the same night, at ten o'clock, Sir William Pelham, came to the Earl
to tell him "what beastly pioneers the Dutchmen were." Leicester
accordingly determined, notwithstanding the lord-marshal's entreaties, to
proceed to the trenches in person. There being but faint light, the two
lost their way, and soon found themselves nearly, at the gate of the
town. Here, while groping about in the dark; and trying to effect their
retreat, they were saluted with a shot, which struck Sir William in the
stomach. For an instant; thinking himself mortally injured, he expressed
his satisfaction that he had been, between the commander-in-chief and the
blow, and made other "comfortable and resolute speeches." Very
fortunately, however, it proved that the marshal was not seriously hurt,
and, after a few days, he was about his work as usual, although
obliged--as the Earl of Leicester expressed it--"to carry a bullet in his
belly as long as he should live."

Roger Williams, too, that valiant adventurer--"but no, more valiant than
wise, and worth his weight in gold," according to the appreciative
Leicester--was shot through the arm. For the dare-devil Welshman, much to
the Earl's regret, persisted in running up and down the trenches "with a
great plume of feathers in his gilt morion," and in otherwise making a
very conspicuous mark of himself "within pointblank of a caliver."

Notwithstanding these mishaps, however, the siege went successfully
forward. Upon the 2nd September the Earl began to batter, and after a
brisk cannonade, from dawn till two in the afternoon, he had considerably
damaged the wall in two places. One of the breaches was eighty feet wide,
the other half as large, but the besieged had stuffed them full of beds,
tubs, logs of wood, boards, and "such like trash," by means whereof the
ascent was not so easy as it seemed. The soldiers were excessively eager
for the assault. Sir John Norris came to Leicester to receive his orders
as to the command of the attacking party.

The Earl referred the matter to him. "There is no man," answered Sir
John, "fitter for that purpose than myself; for I am colonel-general of
the infantry."

But Leicester, not willing to indulge so unreasonable a proposal, replied
that he would reserve him for service of less hazard and greater
importance. Norris being, as usual, "satis prodigus magnae animae," was
out of humour at the refusal, and ascribed it to the Earl's persistent
hostility to him and his family. It was then arranged that the assault
upon the principal breach should be led by younger officers, to be
supported by Sir John and other veterans. The other breach was assigned
to the Dutch and Scotch-black Norris scowling at them the while with
jealous eyes; fearing that they might get the start of the English party,
and be first to enter the town. A party of noble volunteers clustered
about Sir John-Lord Burgh, Sir Thomas Cecil, Sir Philip Sidney, and his
brother Robert among the rest--most impatient for the signal. The race
was obviously to be a sharp one. The governor-general forbade these
violent demonstrations, but Lord Burgh, "in a most vehement passion,
waived the countermand," and his insubordination was very generally
imitated. Before the signal was given, however, Leicester sent a trumpet
to summon the town to surrender, and could with difficulty restrain his
soldiers till the answer should be returned. To the universal
disappointment, the garrison agreed to surrender. Norris himself then
stepped forward to the breach, and cried aloud the terms, lest the
returning herald, who had been sent back by Leicester, should offer too
favourable a capitulation. It was arranged that the soldiers should
retire without arms, with white wands in their hands--the officers
remaining prisoners--and that the burghers, their lives, and property,
should be at Leicester's disposal. The Earl gave most peremptory orders
that persons and goods should be respected, but his commands were
disobeyed. Sir William Stanley's men committed frightful disorders, and
thoroughly, rifled the town.

"And because," said Norris, "I found fault herewith, Sir William began to
quarrel with me, hath braved me extremely, refuseth to take any direction
from me, and although I have sought for redress, yet it is proceeded in
so coldly, that he taketh encouragement rather to increase the quarrel
than to leave it."

Notwithstanding therefore the decree of Leicester, the expostulations and
anger of Norris, and the energetic efforts of Lord Essex and other
generals, who went about smiting the marauders on the head, the soldiers
sacked the city, and committed various disorders, in spite of the
capitulation.

Doesburg having been thus reduced, the Earl now proceeded toward the more
important city which he had determined to besiege. Zutphen, or South-Fen,
an antique town of wealth and elegance, was the capital of the old
Landgraves of Zutphen. It is situate on the right bank of the Yssel, that
branch of the Rhine which flows between Gelderland and Overyssel into the
Zuyder-Zee.

The ancient river, broad, deep, and languid, glides through a plain of
almost boundless extent, till it loses itself in the flat and misty
horizon. On the other side of the stream, in the district called the
Veluwe, or bad meadow, were three sconces, one of them of remarkable
strength. An island between the city and the shore was likewise well
fortified. On the landward side the town was protected by a wall and moat
sufficiently strong in those infant days of artillery. Near the
hospital-gate, on the east, was an external fortress guarding the road to
Warnsfeld. This was a small village, with a solitary slender
church-spire, shooting up above a cluster of neat one-storied houses. It
was about an English mile from Zutphen, in the midst of a wide, low,
somewhat fenny plain, which, in winter, became so completely a lake, that
peasants were not unfrequently drowned in attempting to pass from the
city to the village. In summer, the vague expanse of country was fertile
and cheerful of aspect. Long rows of poplars marking the straight
highways, clumps of pollard willows scattered around the little meres,
snug farm-houses, with kitchen-gardens and brilliant flower-patches
dotting the level plain, verdant pastures sweeping off into seemingly
infinite distance, where the innumerable cattle seemed to swarm like
insects, wind-mills swinging their arms in all directions, like
protective giants, to save the country from inundation, the lagging sail
of market-boats shining through rows of orchard trees--all gave to the
environs of Zutphen a tranquil and domestic charm.

Deventer and Kampen, the two other places on the river, were in the hands
of the States. It was, therefore, desirable for the English and the
patriots, by gaining possession of Zutphen, to obtain control of the
Yssel; driven, as they had been, from the Meuse and Rhine.

Sir John Norris, by Leicester's direction, took possession of a small
rising-ground, called 'Gibbet Dill' on the land-side; where he
established a fortified camp, and proceeded to invest the city. With him
were Count Lewis William of Nassau, and Sir Philip Sidney, while the Earl
himself, crossing the Yssel on a bridge of boats which he had
constructed, reserved for himself the reduction of the forts upon the
Veluwe side.

Farnese, meantime, was not idle; and Leicester's calculations proved
correct. So soon as the Prince was informed of this important
demonstration of the enemy he broke up--after brief debate with his
officers--his camp before Rheinberg, and came to Wesel. At this place he
built a bridge over the Rhine, and fortified it with two block-houses.
These he placed under command of Claude Berlot, who was ordered to watch
strictly all communication up the river with the city of Rheinberg, which
he thus kept in a partially beleaguered state. Alexander then advanced
rapidly by way of Groll and Burik, both which places he took possession
of, to the neighbourhood of Zutphen. He was determined, at every hazard,
to relieve that important city; and although, after leaving necessary
detachments on the way; he had but five thousand men under his command,
besides fifteen hundred under Verdugo--making sixty-five hundred in
all--he had decided that the necessity of the case, and his own honour;
required him to seek the enemy, and to leave, as he said, the issue with
the God of battles, whose cause it was.

Tassis, lieutenant-governor of Gelderland, was ordered into the city with
two cornets of horse and six hundred foot. As large a number, had already
been stationed there. Verdugo, who had been awaiting the arrival of the
Prince at Borkelo, a dozen miles from Zutphen, with four hundred foot and
two hundred horse, now likewise entered the city.

On the night of 29th August Alexander himself entered Zutphen for the
purpose of encouraging the garrison by promise of-relief, and of
ascertaining the position of the enemy by personal observation. His
presence as it always did, inspired the soldiers with enthusiasm, so that
they could with difficulty be restrained from rushing forth to assault
the besiegers. In regard to the enemy he found that Gibbet Hill was still
occupied by Sir John Norris, "the best soldier, in his opinion, that they
had," who had entrenched himself very strongly, and was supposed to have
thirty-five hundred men under his command. His position seemed quite
impregnable. The rest of the English were on the other side of the river,
and Alexander observed, with satisfaction, that they had abandoned a
small redoubt, near the leper-house, outside the Loor-Gate, through which
the reinforcements must enter the city. The Prince determined to profit
by this mistake, and to seize the opportunity thus afforded of sending
those much needed supplies. During the night the enemy were found to be
throwing up works "most furiously," and skirmishing parties were sent out
of the town to annoy them. In the darkness nothing of consequence was
effected, but a Scotch officer was captured, who informed the Spanish
commander that the enemy was fifteen thousand strong--a number which was
nearly double that of Leicester's actual force. In the morning Alexander
returned to his camp at Borkelo--leaving Tassis in command of the Veluwe
Forts, and Verdugo in the city itself--and he at once made rapid work in
collecting victuals. He had soon wheat and other supplies in readiness,
sufficient to feed four thousand mouths for three months, and these he
determined to send into the city immediately, and at every hazard.

The great convoy which was now to be despatched required great care and a
powerful escort. Twenty-five hundred musketeers and pikemen, of whom one
thousand were Spaniards, and six hundred cavalry, Epirotes; Spaniards,
and Italians, under Hannibal Gonzaga, George Crescia, Bentivoglio, Sesa,
and others, were accordingly detailed for this expedition. The Marquis
del Vasto, to whom was entrusted the chief command, was ordered to march
from Borkelo at midnight on Wednesday, October 1 (St. Nov.) [N.S.]. It
was calculated that he would reach a certain hillock not far from
Warnsfeld by dawn of day. Here he was to pause, and send forward an
officer towards the town, communicating his arrival, and requesting the
cooperation of Verdugo, who was to make a sortie with one thousand men,
according to Alexander's previous arrangements. The plan was successfully
carried out. The Marquis arrived by daybreak at the spot indicated, and
despatched Captain de Vega who contrived to send intelligence of the
fact. A trooper, whom Parma had himself sent to Verdugo with earlier
information of the movement, had been captured on the way. Leicester had
therefore been apprized, at an early moment, of the Prince's intentions,
but he was not aware that the convoy would be accompanied by so strong a
force as had really been detailed.

He had accordingly ordered Sir John Norris, who commanded on the outside
of the town near the road which the Spaniards must traverse, to place an
ambuscade in his way. Sir John, always ready for adventurous enterprises,
took a body of two hundred cavalry, all picked men, and ordered Sir
William Stanley, with three hundred pikemen, to follow. A much stronger
force of infantry was held in reserve and readiness, but it was not
thought that it would be required. The ambuscade was successfully placed,
before the dawn of Thursday morning, in the neighbourhood of Warnsfeld
church. On the other hand, the Earl of Leicester himself, anxious as to
the result, came across the river just at daybreak. He was accompanied by
the chief gentlemen in his camp, who could never be restrained when blows
were passing current.

The business that morning was a commonplace and practical though an
important, one--to "impeach" a convoy of wheat and barley, butter,
cheese, and beef--but the names of those noble and knightly volunteers,
familiar throughout Christendom, sound like the roll-call for some
chivalrous tournament. There were Essex and Audley, Stanley, Pelham,
Russell, both the Sidneys, all the Norrises, men whose valour had been.
proved on many a hard-fought battle-field. There, too, was the famous
hero of British ballad whose name was so often to ring on the plains of
the Netherlands--

          "The brave Lord Willoughby,
          Of courage fierce and fell,
          Who would not give one inch of way
          For all the devils in hell."

Twenty such volunteers as these sat on horseback that morning around the
stately Earl of Leicester. It seemed an incredible extravagance to send a
handful of such heroes against an army.

But the English commander-in-chief had been listening to the insidious
tongue of Roland York--that bold, plausible, unscrupulous partisan,
already twice a renegade, of whom more was ere long to be heard in the
Netherlands and England. Of the man's courage there could be no doubt,
and he was about to fight that morning in the front rank at the head of
his company. But he had, for some mysterious reason, been bent upon
persuading the Earl that the Spaniards were no match for Englishmen at a
hand-to-hand contest. When they could ride freely up and down, he said,
and use their lances as they liked, they were formidable. But the English
were stronger men, better riders, better mounted, and better armed. The
Spaniards hated helmets and proof armour, while the English trooper, in
casque, cuirass, and greaves, was a living fortress impregnable to
Spanish or Italian light horsemen. And Leicester seemed almost convinced
by his reasoning.

It was five o'clock of a chill autumn morning. It was time for day to
break, but the fog was so thick that a man at the distance of five yards
was quite invisible. The creaking of waggon-wheels and the measured tramp
of soldiers soon became faintly audible however to Sir John Norris and
his five hundred as they sat there in the mist. Presently came galloping
forward in hot haste those nobles and gentlemen, with their esquires,
fifty men in all--Sidney, Willoughby, and the rest--whom Leicester had no
longer been able to restrain from taking part in the adventure.

A force of infantry, the amount of which cannot be satisfactorily
ascertained, had been ordered by the Earl to cross the bridge at a later
moment. Sidney's cornet of horse was then in Deventer, to which place it
had been sent in order to assist in quelling an anticipated revolt, so
that he came, like most of his companions, as a private volunteer and
knight-errant.

The arrival of the expected convoy was soon more distinctly heard, but no
scouts or outposts had been stationed to give timely notice, of the
enemy's movements. Suddenly the fog, which had shrouded the scene so
closely, rolled away like a curtain, and in the full light of an October
morning the Englishmen found themselves face to face with a compact body
of more than three thousand men. The Marquis del Vasto rode at the head
of the forces surrounded by a band of mounted arquebus men. The cavalry,
under the famous Epirote chief George Crescia, Hannibal Gonzaga,
Bentivoglio, Sesa, Conti, and other distinguished commanders, followed;
the columns of pikemen and musketeers lined the hedge-rows on both sides
the causeway; while between them the long train of waggons came slowly
along under their protection. The whole force had got in motion after
having sent notice of their arrival to Verdugo, who, with one or two
thousand men, was expected to sally forth almost immediately from the
city-gate.

There was but brief time for deliberation. Notwithstanding the tremendous
odds there was no thought of retreat. Black Norris called to Sir William
Stanley, with whom he had been at variance so lately at Doesburg.

"There hath been ill-blood between us," he said. "Let us be friends
together this day, and die side by side, if need be, in her Majesty's
cause."

"If you see me not serve my prince with faithful courage now," replied
Stanley, "account, me for ever a coward. Living or dying I will stand err
lie by you in friendship."

As they were speaking these words the young Earl of Essex, general of the
horse, cried to his, handful of troopers:

"Follow me, good fellows, for the honour of England and of England's
Queen!"

As he spoke he dashed, lance in rest, upon the enemy's cavalry, overthrew
the foremost man, horse and rider, shivered his own spear to splinters,
and then, swinging his cartel-axe, rode merrily forward. His whole little
troop, compact, as an arrow-head, flew with an irresistible shock against
the opposing columns, pierced clean through them, and scattered them in
all directions. At the very first charge one hundred English horsemen
drove the Spanish and Albanian cavalry back upon the musketeers and
pikemen. Wheeling with rapidity, they retired before a volley of
musket-shot, by which many horses and a few riders were killed; and then
formed again to renew the attack. Sir Philip Sidney, an coming to the
field, having met Sir William Pelham, the veteran lord marshal, lightly
armed, had with chivalrous extravagance thrown off his own cuishes, and
now rode to the battle with no armour but his cuirass. At the second
charge his horse was shot under him, but, mounting another, he was seen
everywhere, in the thick of the fight, behaving himself with a gallantry
which extorted admiration even from the enemy.

For the battle was a series of personal encounters in which high officers
were doing the work of private, soldiers. Lord North, who had been lying
"bed-rid" with a musket-shot in the leg, had got himself put on
horseback, and with "one boot on and one boot off," bore himself, "most
lustily" through the whole affair. "I desire that her Majesty may know;"
he said, "that I live but to, serve her. A better barony than I have
could not hire the Lord North to live, on meaner terms." Sir William
Russell laid about him with his curtel-axe to such purpose that the
Spaniards pronounced him a devil and not a man. "Wherever," said an
eye-witness, "he saw five or six of the enemy together; thither would he,
and with his hard knocks soon separated their friendship." Lord
Willoughby encountered George Crescia, general of the famed Albanian
cavalry, unhorsed him at the first shock, and rolled him into the ditch.
"I yield me thy prisoner," called out the Epirote in French, "for thou
art a 'preux chevalier;'" while Willoughby, trusting to his captive's
word, galloped onward, and with him the rest of the little troop, till
they seemed swallowed up by the superior numbers of the enemy. His horse
was shot under him, his basses were torn from his legs, and he was nearly
taken a prisoner, but fought his way back with incredible strength and
good fortune. Sir William Stanley's horse had seven bullets in him, but
bore his rider unhurt to the end of the battle. Leicester declared Sir
William and "old Reads" to be "worth their weight in pearl."

Hannibal Gonzaga, leader of the Spanish cavalry, fell mortally wounded a
The Marquis del Vasto, commander of the expedition, nearly met the same
fate. An Englishman was just cleaving his head with a battle-axe, when a
Spaniard transfixed the soldier with his pike. The most obstinate
struggle took place about the train of waggons. The teamsters had fled in
the beginning of the action, but the English and Spanish soldiers,
struggling with the horses, and pulling them forward and backward, tried
in vain to get exclusive possession of the convoy which was the cause of
the action. The carts at last forced their way slowly nearer and nearer
to the town, while the combat still went on, warm as ever, between the
hostile squadrons. The action, lasted an hour and a half, and again and
again the Spanish horsemen wavered and broke before the handful of
English, and fell back upon their musketeers. Sir Philip Sidney, in the
last charge, rode quite through the enemy's ranks till he came upon their
entrenchments, when a musket-ball from the camp struck him upon the
thigh, three inches above the knee. Although desperately wounded in a
part which should have been protected by the cuishes which he had thrown
aside, he was not inclined to leave the field; but his own horse had been
shot under him at the-beginning of the action, and the one upon which he
was now mounted became too restive for him, thus crippled, to control. He
turned reluctantly away, and rode a mile and a half back to the
entrenchments, suffering extreme pain, for his leg was dreadfully
shattered. As he past along the edge of the battle-field his attendants
brought him a bottle of water to quench his raging thirst. At, that
moment a wounded English soldier, "who had eaten his last at the same
feast," looked up wistfully, in his face, when Sidney instantly handed
him the flask, exclaiming, "Thy necessity is even greater than mine." He
then pledged his dying comrade in a draught, and was soon afterwards met
by his uncle. "Oh, Philip," cried Leicester, in despair, "I am truly
grieved to see thee in this plight." But Sidney comforted him with manful
words, and assured him that death was sweet in the cause of his Queen and
country. Sir William Russell, too, all blood-stained from the fight,
threw his arms around his friend, wept like a child, and kissing his
hand, exclaimed, "Oh! noble Sir Philip, never did man attain hurt so
honourably or serve so valiantly as you." Sir William Pelham declared
"that Sidney's noble courage in the face of our enemies had won him a
name of continuing honour."

The wounded gentleman was borne back to the camp, and thence in a barge
to Arnheim. The fight was over. Sir John Norris bade Lord Leicester "be
merry, for," said he, "you have had the honourablest day. A handful of
men has driven the enemy three times to retreat." But, in truth, it was
now time for the English to retire in their turn. Their reserve never
arrived. The whole force engaged against the thirty-five hundred
Spaniards had never exceeded two hundred and fifty horse and three
hundred foot, and of this number the chief work had beer done by the
fifty or sixty volunteers and their followers. The heroism which had been
displayed was fruitless, except as a proof--and so Leicester wrote to the
Palatine John Casimir--"that Spaniards were not invincible." Two thousand
men now sallied from the Loor Gate under Verdugo and Tassis, to join the
force under Vasto, and the English were forced to retreat. The whole
convoy was then carried into the city, and the Spaniards remained masters
of the field.

Thirteen troopers and twenty-two foot soldiers; upon the English side,
were killed. The enemy lost perhaps two hundred men. They were thrice
turned from their position, and thrice routed, but they succeeded at last
in their attempt to carry their convoy into Zutphen. Upon that day, and
the succeeding ones, the town was completely victualled. Very little,
therefore, save honour, was gained by the display of English valour
against overwhelming numbers; five hundred against, near, four thousand.
Never in the whole course of the war had there been such fighting, for
the troops upon both sides were picked men and veterans. For a long time
afterwards it was the custom of Spaniards and Netherlanders, in
characterising a hardly-contested action, to call it as warm as the fight
at Zutphen.

"I think I may call it," said Leicester, "the most notable encounter that
hath been in our age, and it will remain to our posterity famous."

Nevertheless it is probable that the encounter would have been forgotten
by posterity but for the melancholy close upon that field to Sidney's
bright career. And perhaps the Queen of England had as much reason to
blush for the incompetency of her general and favourite as to be proud.
of the heroism displayed by her officers and soldiers.

"There were too many indeed at this skirmish of the better sort," said
Leicester; "only a two hundred and fifty horse, and most of them the best
of this camp, and unawares to me. I was offended when I knew it, but
could not fetch them back; but since they all so well escaped (save my
dear nephew), I would not for ten thousand pounds but they had been
there, since they have all won that honour they have. Your Lordship never
heard of such desperate charges as they gave upon the enemies in the face
of their muskets."

He described Sidney's wound as "very dangerous, the bone being broken in
pieces;" but said that the surgeons were in good hope. "I pray God to
save his life," said the Earl, "and I care not how lame he be." Sir
Philip was carried to Arnheim, where the best surgeons were immediately
in attendance upon him. He submitted to their examination and the pain
which they inflicted, with great cheerfulness, although himself persuaded
that his wound was mortal. For many days the result was doubtful,
and messages were sent day by day to England that he was
convalescent--intelligence which was hailed by the Queen and people as a
matter not of private but of public rejoicing. He soon began to fail,
however. Count Hohenlo was badly wounded a few days later before the
great fort of Zutphen. A musket-ball entered his mouth; and passed
through his cheek, carrying off a jewel which hung in his ear.
Notwithstanding his own critical condition, however, Hohenlo sent his
surgeon, Adrian van den Spiegel, a man of great skill, to wait upon Sir
Philip, but Adrian soon felt that the case was hopeless. Meantime fever
and gangrene attacked the Count himself; and those in attendance upon
him, fearing for his life, sent for his surgeon. Leicester refused to
allow Adrian to depart, and Hohenlo very generously acquiescing in the
decree, but, also requiring the surgeon's personal care, caused himself
to be transported in a litter to Arnheim.

Sidney was first to recognise the symptoms of mortification, which made a
fatal result inevitable. His demeanour during his sickness and upon his
death-bed was as beautiful as his life. He discoursed with his friends
concerning the immortality of the soul, comparing the doctrines of Plato
and of other ancient philosophers, whose writings were so familiar to
him, with the revelations of Scripture and with the dictates of natural
religion. He made his will with minute and elaborate provisions, leaving
bequests, remembrances, and rings, to all his friends. Then he indulged
himself with music, and listened particularly to a strange song which he
had himself composed during his illness, and which he had entitled 'La
Cuisse rompue.' He took leave of the friends around him with perfect
calmness; saying to his brother Robert, "Love my memory. Cherish my
friends. Above all, govern your will and affections by the will and word
of your Creator; in me beholding the end of this world with all her
vanities."

And thus this gentle and heroic spirit took its flight.

Parma, after thoroughly victualling Zutphen, turned his attention to the
German levies which Leicester was expecting under the care of Count
Meurs. "If the enemy is reinforced by these six thousand fresh troops,"
said Alexander; "it will make him master of the field." And well he might
hold this opinion, for, in the meagre state of both the Spanish and the
liberating armies, the addition of three thousand fresh reiters and as
many infantry would be enough to turn the scale. The Duke of Parma--for,
since the recent death of his father, Farnese had succeeded to his
title--determined in person to seek the German troops, and to destroy
them if possible. But they never gave him the chance. Their muster-place
was Bremen, but when they heard that the terrible 'Holofernese' was in
pursuit of them, and that the commencement of their service would be a
pitched battle with his Spaniards and Italians, they broke up and
scattered about the country. Soon afterwards the Duke tried another
method of effectually dispersing them, in case they still retained a wish
to fulfil their engagement with Leicester. He sent a messenger to treat
with them, and in consequence two of their rittmeisters; paid him a
visit. He offered to give them higher pay, and "ready money in place of
tricks and promises." The mercenary heroes listened very favourably to
his proposals, although they had already received--besides the tricks and
promises--at least one hundred thousand florins out of the States'
treasury.

After proceeding thus far in the negotiation, however, Parma concluded,
as the season was so far advanced, that it was sufficient to have
dispersed them, and to have deprived the English and patriots of their
services. So he gave the two majors a gold chain a-piece, and they went
their way thoroughly satisfied. "I have got them away from the enemy for
this year," said Alexander; "and this I hold to be one of the best
services that has been rendered for many a long day to your Majesty."

During the period which intervened between the action at Warnsfeld and
the death of Sidney, the siege-operations before Zutphen had been
continued. The city, strongly garrisoned and well supplied with
provisions, as it had been by Parma's care, remained impregnable; but the
sconces beyond the river and upon the island fell into Leicester's hands.
The great fortress which commanded the Veluwe, and which was strong
enough to have resisted Count Hohenlo on a former, occasion for nearly a
whole year, was the scene of much hard fighting. It was gained at last by
the signal valour of Edward Stanley, lieutenant to Sir William. That
officer, at the commencement of an assault upon a not very practicable
breach, sprang at the long pike of a Spanish soldier, who was endeavoring
to thrust him from the wall, and seized it with both hands. The Spaniard
struggled to maintain his hold of the weapon, Stanley to wrest it from
his grasp. A dozen other soldiers broke their pikes upon his cuirass or
shot at him with their muskets. Conspicuous by his dress, being all in
yellow but his corslet, he was in full sight of Leicester and of fire
thousand men. The earth was so shifty and sandy that the soldiers who
were to follow him were not able to climb the wall. Still Stanley grasped
his adversary's pike, but, suddenly changing his plan, he allowed the
Spaniard to lift him from the ground. Then, assisting himself with his
feet against the wall, he, much to the astonishment of the spectators,
scrambled quite over the parapet, and dashed sword in hand among the
defenders of the fort. Had he been endowed with a hundred lives it seemed
impossible for him to escape death. But his followers, stimulated by his
example, made ladders for themselves of each others' shoulders, clambered
at last with great exertion over the broken wall, overpowered the
garrison, and made themselves masters of the sconce. Leicester,
transported with enthusiasm for this noble deed of daring, knighted
Edward Stanley upon the spot, besides presenting him next day with forty
pounds in gold and an annuity of one hundred marks, sterling for life.
"Since I was born, I did never see any man behave himself as he did,"
said the Earl. "I shall never forget it, if I live a thousand year, and
he shall have a part of my living for it as long as I live."

The occupation of these forts terminated the military operations of the
year, for the rainy season, precursor of the winter, had now set in.
Leicester, leaving Sir William Stanley, with twelve hundred English and
Irish horse, in command of Deventer; Sir John Burrowes, with one thousand
men, in Doesburg; and Sir Robert Yorke, with one thousand more, in the
great sconce before Zutphen; took his departure for the Hague. Zutphen
seemed so surrounded as to authorize the governor to expect ere long its
capitulation. Nevertheless, the results of the campaign had not been
encouraging. The States had lost ground, having been driven from the
Meuse and Rhine, while they had with difficulty maintained themselves on
the Flemish coast and upon the Yssel.

It is now necessary to glance at the internal politics of the Republic
during the period of Leicester's administration and to explain the
position in which he found himself at the close of the year.

     ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

     And thus this gentle and heroic spirit took its flight
     Five great rivers hold the Netherland territory in their coils
     High officers were doing the work of private, soldiers
     I did never see any man behave himself as he did
     There is no man fitter for that purpose than myself




CHAPTER X. 1586

   Should Elizabeth accept the Sovereignty?--The Effects of her Anger--
   Quarrels between the Earl and the Staten--The Earl's three
   Counsellors--Leicester's Finance--Chamber--Discontent of the
   Mercantile Classes--Paul Buys and the Opposition--Been Insight of
   Paul Buys--Truchsess becomes a Spy upon him--Intrigues of Buys with
   Denmark--His Imprisonment--The Earl's Unpopularity--His Quarrels
   with the States--And with the Norrises--His Counsellors Wilkes and
   Clerke--Letter from the Queen to Leicester--A Supper Party at
   Hohenlo's--A drunken Quarrel--Hohenlo's Assault upon Edward Norris--
   Ill Effects of the Riot.

The brief period of sunshine had been swiftly followed by storms. The
Governor Absolute had, from the outset, been placed in a false position.
Before he came to the Netherlands the Queen had refused the sovereignty.
Perhaps it was wise in her to decline so magnificent an offer; yet
certainly her acceptance would have been perfectly honourable. The
constituted authorities of the Provinces formally made the proposition.
There is no doubt whatever that the whole population ardently desired to
become her subjects. So far as the Netherlands were concerned, then, she
would have been fully justified in extending her sceptre over a free
people, who, under no compulsion and without any, diplomatic chicane, had
selected her for their hereditary chief. So far as regarded England, the
annexation to that country of a continental cluster of states, inhabited
by a race closely allied to it by blood, religion, and the instinct for
political freedom, seemed, on the whole, desirable.

In a financial point of view, England would certainly lose nothing by the
union. The resources of the Provinces were at leant equal to her own. We
have seen the astonishment which the wealth and strength of the
Netherlands excited in their English visitors. They were amazed by the
evidences of commercial and manufacturing prosperity, by the spectacle of
luxury and advanced culture, which met them on every side. Had the
Queen--as it had been generally supposed--desired to learn whether the
Provinces were able and willing to pay the expenses of their own defence
before she should definitely decide on, their offer of sovereignty, she
was soon thoroughly enlightened upon the subject. Her confidential agents
all--held one language. If she would only, accept the sovereignty, the
amount which the Provinces would pay was in a manner boundless. She was
assured that the revenue of her own hereditary realm was much inferior to
that of the possessions thus offered to her sway.

In regard to constitutional polity, the condition of the Netherlands was
at least, as satisfactory as that of England. The great amount of civil
freedom enjoyed by those countries--although perhaps an objection--in the
eyes of Elizabeth Tudor--should certainly have been a recommendation to
her liberty-loving subjects. The question of defence had been
satisfactorily answered. The Provinces, if an integral part of the
English empire, could protect themselves, and would become an additional
element of strength--not a troublesome encumbrance.

The difference of language was far, less than that which already existed
between the English and their Irish fellow-subjects, while it was
counterbalanced by sympathy, instead of being aggravated by mutual
hostility in the matter of religion.

With regard to the great question of abstract sovereignty, it was
certainly impolitic for an absolute monarch to recognize the right of a
nation to repudiate its natural allegiance. But Elizabeth had already
countenanced that step by assisting the rebellion against Philip. To
allow the rebels to transfer their obedience from the King of Spain to
herself was only another step in the same direction. The Queen, should
she annex the Provinces, would certainly be accused by the world of
ambition; but the ambition was a noble one, if, by thus consenting to the
urgent solicitations of a free people, she extended the region of civil
and religious liberty, and raised up a permanent bulwark against
sacerdotal and royal absolutism.

A war between herself and Spain was inevitable if she accepted the
sovereignty, but peace had been already rendered impossible by the treaty
of alliance. It is true that the Queen imagined the possibility of
combining her engagements towards the States with a conciliatory attitude
towards their ancient master, but it was here that she committed the
gravest error. The negotiations of Parma and his sovereign with the
English court were a masterpiece of deceit on the part of Spain. We have
shown, by the secret correspondence, and we shall in the sequel make it
still clearer, that Philip only intended to amuse his antagonists; that
he had already prepared his plan for the conquest of England, down to the
minutest details; that the idea of tolerating religious liberty had never
entered his mind; and that his fixed purpose was not only thoroughly to
chastise the Dutch rebels, but to deprive the heretic Queen who had
fostered their rebellion both of throne and life. So far as regarded the
Spanish King, then, the quarrel between him and Elizabeth was already
mortal; while in a religious, moral, political, and financial point of
view, it would be difficult to show that it was wrong, or imprudent for
England to accept the sovereignty over his ancient subjects. The cause of
human, freedom seemed likely to gain by the step, for the States did not
consider themselves strong enough to maintain the independent republic
which had already risen.

It might be a question whether, on the whole, Elizabeth made a mistake in
declining the sovereignty. She was certainly wrong, however, in wishing
the lieutenant-general of her six thousand auxiliary troops to be
clothed, as such, with vice-regal powers. The States-General, in a moment
of enthusiasm, appointed him governor absolute, and placed in his hands,
not only the command of the forces, but the entire control of their
revenues, imposts, and customs, together with the appointment of civil
and military officers. Such an amount of power could only be delegated by
the sovereign. Elizabeth had refused the sovereignty: it then rested with
the States. They only, therefore, were competent to confer the power
which Elizabeth wished her favourite to exercise simply as her
lieutenant-general.

Her wrathful and vituperative language damaged her cause and that of the
Netherlands more severely than can now be accurately estimated. The Earl
was placed at once in a false, a humiliating, almost a ridiculous
position. The authority which the States had thus a second time offered
to England was a second time and most scornfully thrust back upon them.
Elizabeth was indignant that "her own man" should clothe himself in the
supreme attributes which she had refused. The States were forced by the
violence of the Queen to take the authority into their own hands again,
and Leicester was looked upon as a disgraced man.

Then came the neglect with which the Earl was treated by her Majesty and
her ill-timed parsimony towards the cause. No letters to him in four
months, no remittances for the English troops, not a penny of salary for
him. The whole expense of the war was thrown for the time upon their
hands, and the English soldiers seemed only a few thousand starving,
naked, dying vagrants, an incumbrance instead of an aid.

The States, in their turn, drew the purse-strings. The two hundred
thousand florins monthly were paid. The four hundred thousand florins
which had been voted as an additional supply were for a time held back,
as Leicester expressly stated, because of the discredit which had been
thrown upon him from home.

   [Strangely enough, Elizabeth was under the impression that the extra
   grant of 400,000 florins (L40,000) for four months was four hundred
   thousand pounds sterling. "The rest that was granted by the States,
   as extraordinary to levy an army, which was 400,000 florins, not
   pounds, as I hear your Majesty taketh it. It is forty thousand
   pounds, and to be paid In March, April, May, and June last," &c.
   Leicester to the Queen, 11 Oct. 1586. (S. P. Office MS.)]

The military operations were crippled for want of funds, but more fatal
than everything else were the secret negotiations for peace. Subordinate
individuals, like Grafigni and De Loo, went up and down, bringing
presents out of England for Alexander Farnese, and bragging that Parma
and themselves could have peace whenever they liked to make it, and
affirming that Leicester's opinions were of no account whatever.
Elizabeth's coldness to the Earl and to the Netherlands was affirmed to
be the Prince of Parma's sheet-anchor; while meantime a house was
ostentatiously prepared in Brussels by their direction for the reception
of an English ambassador, who was every moment expected to arrive. Under
such circumstances it was in, vain for the governor-general to protest
that the accounts of secret negotiations were false, and quite natural
that the States should lose their confidence in the Queen. An unfriendly
and suspicious attitude towards her representative was a necessary
result, and the demonstrations against the common enemy became still more
languid. But for these underhand dealings, Grave, Venlo, and Neusz, might
have been saved, and the current 'of the Meuse and Rhine have remained in
the hands of the patriots.

The Earl was industrious, generous, and desirous of playing well his
part. His personal courage was undoubted, and, in the opinion of his
admirers--themselves, some of them, men of large military experience--his
ability as a commander was of a high order. The valour displayed by the
English nobles and gentlemen who accompanied him was magnificent, worthy
the descendants of the victors at Crecy, Poitiers, and Agincourt; and the
good behaviour of their followers--with a few rare exceptions--had been
equally signal. But now the army was dwindling to a ghastly array of
scarecrows, and the recruits, as they came from England, were appalled by
the spectacle presented by their predecessors. "Our old ragged rogues
here have so discouraged our new men," said Leicester; "as I protest to
you they look like dead men." Out of eleven hundred freshly-arrived
Englishmen, five hundred ran away in two days. Some were caught and
hanged, and all seemed to prefer hanging to remaining in the service,
while the Earl declared that he would be hanged as well rather than again
undertake such a charge without being assured payment for his troops
beforehand!

The valour of Sidney and Essex, Willoughby and Pelham, Roger Williams and
Martin Schenk, was set at nought by such untoward circumstances. Had not
Philip also left his army to starve and Alexander Farnese to work
miracles, it would have fared still worse with Holland and England, and
with the cause of civil and religious liberty in the year 1586.

The States having resumed, as much as possible; their former authority,
were on very unsatisfactory terms with the governor-general. Before long,
it was impossible for the twenty or thirty individuals called the States
to be in the same town with the man whom, at the commencement of the
year, they had greeted so warmly. The hatred between the Leicester
faction and the municipalities became intense, for the foundation of the
two great parties which were long to divide the Netherland commonwealth
was already laid. The mercantile patrician interest, embodied in the
states of Holland and Zeeland and inclined to a large toleration in the
matter of religion, which afterwards took the form of Arminianism, was
opposed by a strict Calvinist party, which desired to subject the
political commonwealth to the reformed church; which nevertheless
indulged in very democratic views of the social compact; and which was
controlled by a few refugees from Flanders and Brabant, who had succeeded
in obtaining the confidence of Leicester.

Thus the Earl was the nominal head of the Calvinist democratic party;
while young Maurice of Nassau; stadholder of Holland and Zeeland, and
guided by Barneveld, Buys, and other leading statesmen of these
Provinces; was in an attitude precisely the reverse of the one which he
was destined at a later and equally memorable epoch to assume. The chiefs
of the faction which had now succeeded in gaining the confidence of
Leicester were Reingault, Burgrave, and Deventer, all refugees.

The laws of Holland and of the other United States were very strict on
the subject of citizenship, and no one but a native was competent to hold
office in each Province. Doubtless, such regulations were
narrow-spirited; but to fly in the face of them was the act of a despot,
and this is what Leicester did. Reingault was a Fleming. He was a
bankrupt merchant, who had been taken into the protection of Lamoral
Egmont, and by that nobleman recommended to Granvelle for an office under
the Cardinal's government. The refusal of this favour was one of the
original causes of Egmont's hostility to Granvelle. Reingault
subsequently entered the service of the Cardinal, however, and rewarded
the kindness of his former benefactor by great exertions in finding, or
inventing, evidence to justify the execution of that unfortunate
nobleman. He was afterwards much employed by the Duke of Alva and by the
Grand Commander Requesens; but after the pacification of Ghent he had
been completely thrown out of service. He had recently, in a subordinate
capacity, accompanied the legations of the States to France and to
England, and had now contrived to ingratiate himself with the Earl of
Leicester. He affected great zeal for the Calvinistic religion--an
exhibition which, in the old servant of Granvelle and Alva, was far from
edifying--and would employ no man or maid-servant in his household until
their religious principles had been thoroughly examined by one or two
clergymen. In brief, he was one of those, who, according to a homely
Flemish proverb, are wont to hang their piety on the bell-rope; but, with
the exception of this brief interlude in his career, he lived and died a
Papist.

Gerard Proninck, called Deventer, was a respectable inhabitant of
Bois-le-Duc, who had left that city after it had again become subject to
the authority of Spain. He was of decent life and conversation, but a
restless and ambitious demagogue. As a Brabantine, he was unfit for
office; and yet, through Leicester's influence and the intrigues of the
democratic party, he obtained the appointment of burgomaster in the city
of Utrecht. The States-General, however, always refused to allow him to
appear at their sessions as representative of that city.

Daniel de Burgrave was a Flemish mechanic, who, by the exertion of much
energy and talent, had risen to the poet of procureur-general of
Flanders. After the conquest of the principal portion of that Province by
Parma, he had made himself useful to the English governor-general in
various ways, and particularly as a linguist. He spoke English--a tongue
with which few Netherlanders of that day were familiar--and as the Earl
knew no other, except (very imperfectly) Italian, he found his services
in speaking and writing a variety of languages very convenient. He was
the governor's private secretary, and, of course, had no entrance to the
council of state, but he was accused of frequently thrusting himself into
their hall of sessions, where, under pretence of arranging the Earl's
table, or portfolio, or papers, he was much addicted to whispering into
his master's ear, listening to conversation,--to eaves-dropping; in
short, and general intrusiveness.

"A most faithful, honest servant is Burgrave," said Leicester; "a
substantial, wise man. 'Tis as sufficient a man as ever I met withal of
any nation; very well learned, exceeding wise, and sincere in religion. I
cannot commend the man too much. He is the only comfort I have had of any
of this nation."

These three personages were the leaders of the Leicester faction. They
had much, influence with all the refugees from Flanders, Brabant, and the
Walloon Provinces. In Utrecht, especially, where the Earl mainly resided,
their intrigues were very successful. Deventer was appointed, as already
stated, to the important post of burgomaster; many, of the influential
citizens were banished, without cause or, trial; the upper branch of the
municipal government, consisting of the clerical delegates of the
colleges, was in an arbitrary manner abolished; and, finally, the
absolute sovereignty of, the Province, without condition, was offered to
the Queen, of England.

Leicester was now determined to carry out one of the great objects which
the Queen had in view when she sent him to the Netherlands. She desired
thoroughly to ascertain the financial resources of the Provinces, and
their capacity to defend themselves. It was supposed by the States, and
hoped by the Earl and by a majority of the Netherland people, that she
would, in case the results were satisfactory, accept, after all, the
sovereignty. She certainly was not to be blamed that she wished to make
this most important investigation, but it was her own fault that any new
machinery had been rendered necessary. The whole control of the finances
had, in the beginning of the year, been placed in the Earl's hands, and
it was only by her violently depriving him of his credit and of the
confidence of the country that he had not retained it. He now established
a finance-chamber, under the chief control of Reingault, who promised him
mountains of money, and who was to be chief treasurer. Paul Buys was
appointed by Leicester to fill a subordinate position in the new council.
He spurned the offer with great indignation, saying that Reingault was
not fit to be his clerk, and that he was not likely himself, therefore,
to accept a humble post under the administration of such an individual.
This scornful refusal filled to the full the hatred of Leicester against
the ex-Advocate of Holland.

The mercantile interest at once took the alarm, because it was supposed
that the finance-chamber, was intended to crush the merchants. Early in
April an Act had been passed by the state-council, prohibiting commerce
with the Spanish possessions. The embargo was intended to injure the
obedient Provinces and their sovereign, but it was shown that its effect
would be to blast the commerce of Holland. It forbade the exportation
from the republic not only of all provisions and munitions of war, but of
all goods and merchandize whatever, to Spain, Portugal, the Spanish
Netherlands, or any other of Philip's territories, either in Dutch or
neutral vessel. It would certainly seem, at first sight, that such an act
was reasonable, although the result would really be, not to deprive the
enemy of supplies, but to throw the whole Baltic trade into the hands of
the Bremen, Hamburg, and "Osterling" merchants. Leicester expected to
derive a considerable revenue by granting passports and licenses to such
neutral traders, but the edict became so unpopular that it was never
thoroughly enforced, and was before long rescinded.

The odium of the measure was thrown upon the governor-general, yet he had
in truth opposed it in the state-council, and was influential in
procuring its repeal.

Another important Act had been directed against the mercantile interest,
and excited much general discontent. The Netherlands wished the staple of
the English cloth manufacture to be removed from Emden--the petty,
sovereign of which place was the humble servant of Spain--to Amsterdam or
Delft. The desire was certainly, natural, and the Dutch merchants sent a
committee to confer with Leicester. He was much impressed with their
views, and with the sagacity of their chairman, one Mylward, "a wise
fellow and well languaged, an ancient man and very, religious," as the
Earl pronounced him to be.

Notwithstanding the wisdom however, of this well-languaged fellow, the
Queen, for some strange reason, could not be induced to change the staple
from Emden, although it was shown that the public revenue of the
Netherlands would gain twenty thousand pounds a year by the measure. "All
Holland will cry out for it," said Leicester; "but I had rather they
cried than that England should weep."

Thus the mercantile community, and especially the patrician families of
Holland and Zeeland, all engaged in trade, became more and more hostile
to the governor-general and to his financial trio, who were soon almost
as unpopular as the famous Consults of Cardinal Granvelle had been. It
was the custom of the States to consider the men who surrounded the Earl
as needy and unprincipled renegades and adventurers. It was the policy of
his advisers to represent the merchants and the States--which mainly
consisted of, or were controlled by merchants--as a body of corrupt,
selfish, greedy money-getters.

The calumnies put in circulation against the States by Reingault and his
associates grew at last so outrageous, and the prejudice created in the
mind of Leicester and his immediate English adherents so intense, that it
was rendered necessary for the States, of Holland and Zeeland to write to
their agent Ortell in London, that he might forestall the effect of these
perpetual misrepresentations on her Majesty's government. Leicester, on
the other hand, under the inspiration; of his artful advisers, was
vehement in his entreaties that Ortell should be sent away from England.

The ablest and busiest of the opposition-party, the "nimblest head" in
the States-General was the ex-Advocate of Holland; Paul Buys. This man
was then the foremost statesman in, the Netherlands. He had been the
firmest friend to the English alliance; he had resigned his office when
the States were-offering the sovereignty to France, and had been on the
point of taking service in Denmark. He had afterwards been prominent in
the legation which offered the sovereignty to Elizabeth, and, for a long
time, had been the most firm, earnest, and eloquent advocate of the
English policy. Leicester had originally courted him, caressed him,
especially recommended him to the Queen's favour, given him money--as he
said, "two hundred pounds sterling thick at a time"--and openly
pronounced him to be "in ability above all men." "No man hath ever sought
a man," he said, "as I have sought P. B."

The period of their friendship was, however, very brief. Before many
weeks had passed there was no vituperative epithet that Leicester was not
in the daily habit of bestowing upon Paul. The Earl's vocabulary of abuse
was not a limited one, but he exhausted it on the head of the Advocate.
He lacked at last words and breath to utter what was like him. He
pronounced his former friend "a very dangerous man, altogether hated of
the people and the States;"--"a lewd sinner, nursled in revolutions; a
most covetous, bribing fellow, caring for nothing but to bear the sway
and grow rich;"--"a man who had played many parts, both lewd and
audacious;"--"a very knave, a traitor to his country;"--"the most
ungrateful wretch alive, a hater of the Queen and of all the English; a
most unthankful man to her Majesty; a practiser to make himself rich and
great, and nobody else;"--"among all villains the greatest;"--"a
bolsterer of all papists and ill men, a dissembler, a devil, an atheist,"
a "most naughty man, and a most notorious drunkard in the worst degree."

Where the Earl hated, his hatred was apt to be deadly, and he was
determined, if possible, to have the life of the detested Paul. "You
shall see I will do well enough with him, and that shortly," he said. "I
will course him as he was not so this twenty year. I will warrant him
hanged and one or two of his fellows, but you must not tell your shirt of
this yet;" and when he was congratulating the government on his having at
length procured the execution of Captain Hemart, the surrenderer of
Grave, he added, pithily, "and you shall hear that Mr. P. B. shall
follow."

Yet the Earl's real griefs against Buys may be easily summed up. The lewd
sinner, nursled in revolutions, had detected the secret policy of the
Queen's government, and was therefore perpetually denouncing the
intrigues going on with Spain. He complained that her Majesty was tired
of having engaged in the Netherland enterprise; he declared that she
would be glad to get fairly out of it; that her reluctance to spend a
farthing more in the cause than she was obliged to do was hourly
increasing upon her; that she was deceiving and misleading the
States-General; and that she was hankering after a peace. He said that
the Earl had a secret intention to possess himself of certain towns in
Holland, in which case the whole question of peace and war would be in
the hands of the Queen, who would also have it thus in her power to
reimburse herself at once for all expenses that she had incurred.

It would be difficult to show that there was anything very calumnious in
these charges, which, no doubt, Paul was in the habit of making. As to
the economical tendencies of her Majesty, sufficient evidence has been
given already from Leicester's private letters. "Rather than spend one
hundred pounds," said Walsingham, "she can be content to be deceived of
five thousand." That she had been concealing from the Staten, from
Walsingham, from Leicester, during the whole summer, her secret
negotiations with Spain, has also been made apparent. That she was
disgusted with the enterprise in which she had embarked, Walsingham,
Burghley, Hatton, and all the other statesmen of England, most abundantly
testified. Whether Leicester had really an intention to possess himself
of certain cities in Holland--a charge made by Paul Buys, and denounced
as especially slanderous by the Earl--may better appear from his own
private statements.

"This I will do," he wrote to the Queen, "and I hope not to fail of it,
to get into my hands three or four most principal places in North
Holland; which will be such a strength and assurance for your Majesty, as
you shall see you shall both rule these men and make war or peace as you
list, always provided--whatsoever you hear, or is--part not with the
Brill; and having these places in your hands, whatsoever should chance to
these countries, your Majesty, I will warrant sure enough to make what
peace you will in an hour, and to have your debts and charges readily
answered." At a somewhat later moment it will be seen what came of these
secret designs. For the present, Leicester was very angry with Paul for
daring to suspect him of such treachery.

The Earl complained, too, that the influence of Buys with Hohenlo and
young Maurice of Nassau was most pernicious. Hohenlo had formerly stood
high in Leicester's opinion. He was a "plain, faithful soldier, a most
valiant gentleman," and he was still more important, because about to
marry Mary of Nassau; eldest slaughter, of William the Silent, and
coheiress with Philip William, to the Buren property. But he had been
tampered with by the intriguing Paul Buys, and had then wished to resign
his office under Leicester. Being pressed for reasons, he had "grown
solemn," and withdrawn himself almost entirely.

Maurice; with his "solemn, sly wit," also gave the Earl much trouble,
saying little; but thinking much, and listening to the insidious Paul. He
"stood much on making or marring," so Leicester thought, "as he met with
good counsel." He had formerly been on intimate terms with the
governor-general, who affected to call him his son; but he had
subsequently kept aloof, and in three months had not come near him. The
Earl thought that money might do much, and was anxious for Sir Francis
Drake to come home from the Indies with millions of gold, that the Queen
might make both Hohenlo and Maurice a handsome present before it should
be too late.

Meantime he did what he could with Elector Truchsess to lure them back
again. That forlorn little prelate was now poorer and more wretched than
ever. He was becoming paralytic, though young, and his heart was broken
through want. Leicester, always generous as the sun, gave him money, four
thousand florins at a time, and was most earnest that the Queen should
put him on her pension list. "His wisdom, his behaviour, his languages,
his person," said the Earl, "all would like her well. He is in great
melancholy for his town of Neusz, and for his poverty, having a very
noble mind. If, he be lost, her Majesty had better lose a hundred
thousand pounds."

The melancholy Truchsess now became a spy and a go-between. He insinuated
himself into the confidence of Paul Buys, wormed his secrets from him,
and then communicated them to Hohenlo and to Leicester; "but he did it
very wisely," said the Earl, "so that he was not mistrusted." The
governor always affected, in order to screen the elector from suspicion,
to obtain his information from persons in Utrecht; and he had indeed many
spies in that city; who diligently reported Paul's table-talk.
Nevertheless, that "noble gentleman, the elector," said Leicester, "hath
dealt most deeply with him, to seek out the bottom." As the ex-Advocate
of Holland was very communicative in his cups, and very bitter against
the governor-general, there was soon such a fund of information collected
on the subject by various eaves-droppers, that Leicester was in hopes of
very soon hanging Mr. Paul Buys, as we have already seen.

The burthen of the charges against the culprit was his statement that the
Provinces would be gone if her Majesty did not declare herself,
vigorously and generously, in their favour; but, as this was the
perpetual cry of Leicester himself, there seemed hardly hanging matter in
that. That noble gentleman, the elector, however, had nearly saved the
hangman his trouble, having so dealt with Hohenlo as to "bring him into
as good a mind as ever he was;" and the first fruits of this good mind
were, that the honest Count--a man of prompt dealings--walked straight to
Paul's house in order to kill him on the spot. Something fortunately
prevented the execution of this plan; but for a time at least the
energetic Count continued to be "governed greatly" by the ex-archbishop,
and "did impart wholly unto him his most secret heart."

Thus the "deep wise Truxy," as Leicester called him, continued to earn
golden opinions, and followed up his conversion of Hohenlo by undertaking
to "bring Maurice into tune again also," and the young Prince was soon on
better terms with his "affectionate father" than he had ever been before.
Paul Buys was not so easily put down, however, nor the two magnates so
thoroughly gained over. Before the end of the season Maurice stood in his
old position, the nominal head of the Holland or patrician party, chief
of the opposition to Leicester, while Hohenlo had become more bitter than
ever against the Earl. The quarrel between himself and Edward Norris, to
which allusion will soon be made, tended to increase the dissatisfaction,
although he singularly misunderstood Leicester's sentiments throughout
the whole affair. Hohenlo recovered of his wound before Zutphen; but, on
his recovery, was more malcontent than ever. The Earl was obliged at last
to confess that "he was a very dangerous man, inconstant, envious; and
hateful to all our nation, and a very traitor to the cause. There is no
dealing to win him," he added, "I have sought it to my cost. His best
friends tell me he is not to be trusted."

Meantime that lewd sinner, the indefatigable Paul, was plotting
desperately--so Leicester said and believed--to transfer the sovereignty
of the Provinces to the King of Denmark. Buys, who was privately of
opinion that the States required an absolute head, "though it were but an
onion's head," and that they would thankfully continue under Leicester as
governor absolute if Elizabeth would accept the sovereignty, had made up
his mind that the Queen would never take that step. He was therefore
disposed to offer the crown to the King of Denmark, and was believed to
have brought Maurice--who was to espouse that King's daughter--to the
same way of thinking. Young Count Rantzan, son of a distinguished Danish
statesman, made a visit to the Netherlands in order to confer with Buys.
Paul was also anxious to be appointed envoy to Denmark, ostensibly to
arrange for the two thousand cavalry, which the King had long before
promised for the assistance of the Provinces, but in reality, to examine
the details of this new project; and Leicester represented to the Queen
very earnestly how powerful the Danish monarch would become, thus
rendered master of the narrow seas, and how formidable to England.

In the midst of these plottings, real or supposed, a party of armed men,
one fine summer's morning, suddenly entered Paul's bedroom as he lay
asleep at the house of the burgomaster, seized his papers, and threw him:
into prison in the wine-cellar of the town-house. "Oh my papers, oh my
papers!" cried the unfortunate politician, according to Leicester's
statement, "the Queen of England will for ever hate me." The Earl
disavowed all, participation in the arrest; but he was not believed. He
declared himself not sorry that the measure had been taken, and promised
that he would not "be hasty to release him," not doubting that "he would
be found faulty enough." Leicester maintained that there was stuff enough
discovered to cost Paul his head; but he never lost his head, nor was
anything treasonable or criminal ever found against him. The intrigue
with Denmark--never proved--and commenced, if undertaken at all, in utter
despair of Elizabeth's accepting the sovereignty, was the gravest charge.
He remained, however, six months in prison, and at the beginning of 1587
was released, without trial or accusation, at the request of the English
Queen.

The States could hardly be blamed for their opposition to the Earl's
administration, for he had thrown himself completely into the arms of a
faction, whose object was to vilipend and traduce them, and it was now
difficult for him to recover the functions of which the Queen had
deprived him. "The government they had given from themselves to me stuck
in their stomachs always," he said. Thus on the one side, the States
were, "growing more stately than ever," and were-always "jumbling
underhand," while the aristocratic Earl, on, his part, was resolute not
to be put down by "churls and tinkers." He was sure that the people were
with him, and that, "having always been governed by some prince, they,
never did nor could consent to be ruled by bakers, brewers, and hired
advocates. I know they hate them," said this high-born tribune of the
people. He was much disgusted with the many-headed chimaera, the
monstrous republic, with which he found himself in such unceasing
conflict, and was disposed to take a manful stand. "I have been fain of
late," he said, "to set the better leg foremost, to handle some of my
masters somewhat plainly; for they thought I would droop; and whatsoever
becomes of me, you shall hear I will keep my reputation, or die for it."

But one great accusation, made against the churls and tinkers, and bakers
and hired advocates, and Mr. Paul Buys at their head, was that they were
liberal towards the Papists. They were willing that Catholics should
remain in the country and exercise the rights of citizens, provided they,
conducted themselves like good citizens. For this toleration--a lesson
which statesmen like Buys and Barneveld had learned in the school of
William the Silent--the opposition-party were denounced as bolsterers of
Papists, and Papists themselves at heart, and "worshippers of idolatrous
idols."

From words, too, the government of Leicester passed to acts. Seventy
papists were banished from the city of Utrecht at the time of the arrest
of Buys. The Queen had constantly enforced upon Leicester the importance
of dealing justly with the Catholics in the Netherlands, on the ground
that they might be as good patriots and were as much interested in the
welfare of their country as were the Protestants; and he was especially
enjoined "not to meddle in matters of religion." This wholesome advice it
would have been quite impossible for the Earl, under the guidance of
Reingault, Burgrave, and Stephen Perret, to carry out. He protested that
he should have liked to treat Papists and Calvinists "with indifference,"
but that it had proved impossible; that the Catholics were perpetually
plotting with the Spanish faction, and that no towns were safe except
those in which Papists had been excluded from office. "They love the Pope
above all," he said, "and the Prince of Parma hath continual intelligence
with them." Nor was it Catholics alone who gave the governor trouble. He
was likewise very busy in putting down other denominations that differed
from the Calvinists. "Your Majesty will not believe," he said, "the
number of sects that are in most towns; especially Anabaptists, Families
of Love, Georgians; and I know not what. The godly and good ministers
were molested by them in many places, and ready to give over; and even
such diversities grew among magistrates in towns, being caused by some
sedition-sowers here." It is however, satisfactory to reflect that the
anabaptists and families of love, although discouraged and frowned upon,
were not burned alive, buried alive, drowned in dungeons, and roasted at
slow fires, as had been the case with them and with every other species
of Protestants, by thousands and tens of thousands, so long as Charles V.
and Philip II. had ruled the territory of that commonwealth. Humanity had
acquired something by the war which the Netherlanders had been waging for
twenty years, and no man or woman was ever put to death for religious
causes after the establishment of the republic.

With his hands thus full of business, it was difficult for the Earl to
obey the Queen's command not to meddle in religious matters; for he was
not of the stature of William the Silent, and could not comprehend that
the great lesson taught by the sixteenth century was that men were not to
meddle with men in matters of religion.

But besides his especial nightmare--Mr. Paul Buys--the governor-general
had a whole set of incubi in the Norris family. Probably no two persons
ever detested each other more cordially than did Leicester and Sir John
Norris. Sir John had been commander of the forces in the Netherlands
before Leicester's arrival, and was unquestionably a man of larger
experience than the Earl. He had, however, as Walsingham complained,
acquired by his services in "countries where neither discipline military
nor religion carried any sway," a very rude and licentious kind of
government. "Would to God," said the secretary, "that, with his value and
courage, he carried the mind and reputation of a religious soldier." But
that was past praying for. Sir John was proud, untractable, turbulent,
very difficult to manage. He hated Leicester, and was furious with Sir
William Pelham, whom Leicester had made marshal of the camp. He
complained, not unjustly, that from the first place in the army, which he
had occupied in the Netherlands, he had been reduced to the fifth. The
governor-general--who chose to call Sir John the son of his ancient
enemy, the Earl of Sussex--often denounced him in good set terms. "His
brother Edward is as ill as he," he said, "but John is right the late
Earl of Sussex' son; he will so dissemble and crouch, and so cunningly
carry his doings, as no man living would imagine that there were half the
malice or vindictive mind that plainly his words prove to be." Leicester
accused him of constant insubordination, insolence, and malice,
complained of being traduced by him everywhere in the Netherlands and in
England, and declared that he was followed about by "a pack of lewd
audacious fellows," whom the Earl vowed he would hang, one and all,
before he had done with them. He swore openly, in presence of all his
camp, that he would hang Sir John likewise; so that both the brothers,
who had never been afraid of anything since they had been born into the
world, affected to be in danger of their lives.

The Norrises were on bad terms with many officers--with Sir William
Pelham of course, with "old Reade," Lord North, Roger Williams, Hohenlo,
Essex, and other nobles--but with Sir Philip Sidney, the gentle and
chivalrous, they were friends. Sir John had quarrelled in former
times--according to Leicester--with Hohenlo and even with the "good and
brave" La None, of the iron arm; "for his pride," said the Earl, "was the
spirit of the devil." The governor complained every day of his malignity,
and vowed that he "neither regarded the cause of God, nor of his prince,
nor country."

He consorted chiefly with Sir Thomas Cecil, governor of Brill, son of
Lord Burghley, and therefore no friend to Leicester; but the Earl
protested that "Master Thomas should bear small rule," so long as he was
himself governor-general. "Now I have Pelham and Stanley, we shall do
well enough," he said, "though my young master would countenance him. I
will be master while I remain here, will they, nill they."

Edward Norris, brother of Sir John, gave the governor almost as much
trouble as he; but the treasurer Norris, uncle to them both, was, if
possible, more odious to him than all. He was--if half Leicester's
accusations are to be believed--a most infamous peculator. One-third of
the money sent by the Queen for the soldiers stuck in his fingers. He
paid them their wretched four-pence a-day in depreciated coin, so that
for their "naughty money they could get but naughty ware." Never was such
"fleecing of poor soldiers," said Leicester.

On the other hand, Sir John maintained that his uncle's accounts were
always ready for examination, and earnestly begged the home-government
not to condemn that functionary without a hearing. For himself, he
complained that he was uniformly kept in the background, left in
ignorance of important enterprises, and sent on difficult duty with
inadequate forces. It was believed that Leicester's course was inspired
by envy, lest any military triumph that might be gained should redound to
the glory of Sir John, one of the first commanders of the age, rather
than to that of the governor-general. He was perpetually thwarted,
crossed, calumniated, subjected to coarse and indecent insults, even from
such brave men as Lord North and Roger Williams, and in the very presence
of the commander-in-chief, so that his talents were of no avail, and he
was most anxious to be gone from the country.

Thus with the tremendous opposition formed to his government in the
States-General, the incessant bickerings with the Norrises, the
peculations of the treasurer, the secret negotiations with Spain, and the
impossibility of obtaining money from home for himself or for his
starving little army, the Earl was in anything but a comfortable
position. He was severely censured in England; but he doubted, with much
reason, whether there were many who would take his office, and spend
twenty thousand pounds sterling out of their own pockets, as he had done.
The Earl was generous and brave as man could be, full of wit, quick of
apprehension; but inordinately vain, arrogant, and withal easily led by
designing persons. He stood up manfully for the cause in which he was
embarked, and was most strenuous in his demands for money. "Personally he
cared," he said, "not sixpence for his post; but would give five thousand
sixpences, and six thousand shillings beside, to be rid of it;" but it
was contrary to his dignity to "stand bucking with the States" for his
salary. "Is it reason," he asked, "that I, being sent from so great a
prince as our sovereign is, must come to strangers to beg my
entertainment: If they are to pay me, why is there no remembrance made of
it by her Majesty's letters, or some of the lords?"

The Earl and those around him perpetually and vehemently urged upon the
Queen to reconsider her decision, and accept the sovereignty of the
Provinces at once. There was no other remedy for the distracted state of
the country--no other safeguard for England. The Netherland people
anxiously, eagerly desired it. Her Majesty was adored by all the
inhabitants, who would gladly hang the fellows called the States. Lord
North was of this opinion--so was Cavendish. Leicester had always held
it. "Sure I am," he said, "there is but one way for our safety, and that
is, that her Majesty may take that upon her which I fear she will not."
Thomas Wilkes, who now made his appearance on the scene, held the same
language. This distinguished civilian had been sent by the Queen, early
in August, to look into the state of Netherland affairs. Leicester having
expressly urged the importance of selecting as wise a politician as could
be found--because the best man in England would hardly be found a match
for the dullards and drunkards, as it was the fashion there to call the
Dutch statesmen--had selected Wilkes. After fulfilling this important
special mission, he was immediately afterwards to return to the
Netherlands as English member of the state-council, at forty shillings
a-day, in the place of "little Hal Killigrew," whom Leicester pronounced
a "quicker and stouter fellow" than he had at first taken him for,
although he had always thought well of him. The other English counsellor,
Dr. Bartholomew Clerk, was to remain, and the Earl declared that he too,
whom he had formerly undervalued, and thought to have "little stuff in
him," was now "increasing greatly in understanding." But notwithstanding
this intellectual progress, poor Bartholomew, who was no beginner, was
most anxious to retire. He was a man of peace, a professor, a doctor of
laws, fonder of the learned leisure and the trim gardens of England than
of the scenes which now surrounded him. "I beseech your good Lordship to
consider," he dismally observed to Burghley, "what a hard case it is for
a man that these fifteen years hath had vitam sedentariam, unworthily in
a place judicial, always in his long robe, and who, twenty-four years
since, was a public reader in the University (and therefore cannot be
young), to come now among guns and drums, tumbling up and down, day and
night, over waters and banks, dykes and ditches, upon every occasion that
falleth out; hearing many insolences with silence, bearing many hard
measures with patience--a course most different from my nature, and most
unmeet for him that hath ever professed learning."

Wilkes was of sterner stuff. Always ready to follow the camp and to face
the guns and drums with equanimity, and endowed beside with keen
political insight, he was more competent than most men to unravel the
confused skein of Netherland politics. He soon found that the Queen's
secret negotiations with Spain, and the general distrust of her
intentions in regard to the Provinces, were like to have fatal
consequences. Both he and Leicester painted the anxiety of the Netherland
people as to the intention of her Majesty in vivid colours.

The Queen could not make up her mind--in the very midst of the Greenwich
secret conferences, already described--to accept the Netherland
sovereignty. "She gathereth from your letter," wrote Walsingham, "that
the only salve for this sore is to make herself proprietary of the
country, and to put in such an army as may be able to make head to the
enemy. These two things being so contrary to her Majesty's
disposition--the one, for that it breedeth a doubt of a perpetual war,
the other, for that it requireth an increase of charges--do marvellously
distract her, and make her repent that ever she entered into the action."

Upon the great subject of the sovereignty, therefore, she was unable to
adopt the resolution so much desired by Leicester and by the people of
the Provinces; but she answered the Earl's communications concerning
Maurice and Hohenlo, Sir John Norris and the treasurer, in characteristic
but affectionate language. And thus she wrote:

"Rob, I am afraid you will suppose, by my wandering writings, that a
midsummer's moon hath taken large possession of my brains this month; but
you must needs take things as they come in my head, though order be left
behind me. When I remember your request to have a discreet and honest man
that may carry my mind, and see how all goes there, I have chosen this
bearer (Thomas Wilkes), whom you know and have made good trial of. I have
fraught him full of my conceipts of those country matters, and imparted
what way I mind to take and what is fit for you to use. I am sure you can
credit him, and so I will be short with these few notes. First, that
Count Maurice and Count Hollock (Hohenlo) find themselves trusted of you,
esteemed of me, and to be carefully regarded, if ever peace should
happen, and of that assure them on my word, that yet never deceived any.
And for Norris and other captains that voluntarily, without commandment,
have many years ventured their lives and won our nation honour and
themselves fame, let them not be discouraged by any means, neither by
new-come men nor by old trained soldiers elsewhere. If there be fault in
using of soldiers, or making of profit by them, let them hear of it
without open shame, and doubt not I will well chasten them therefore. It
frets me not a little that the poor soldiers that hourly venture life
should want their due, that well deserve rather reward; and look, in whom
the fault may truly be proved, let them smart therefore. And if the
treasurer be found untrue or negligent, according to desert he shall be
used. But you know my old wont, that love not to discharge from office
without desert. God forbid! I pray you let this bearer know what may be
learned herein, and for the treasure I have joined Sir Thomas Shirley to
see all this money discharged in due sort, where it needeth and behoveth.

"Now will I end, that do imagine I talk still with you, and therefore
loathly say farewell one hundred thousand times; though ever I pray God
bless you from all harm, and save you from all foes. With my million and
legion of thanks for all your pains and cares,

"As you know ever the same,

"E. R.

"P. S. Let Wilkes see that he is acceptable to you. If anything there be
that W. shall desire answer of be such as you would have but me to know,
write it to myself. You know I can keep both others' counsel and mine
own. Mistrust not that anything you would have kept shall be disclosed by
me, for although this bearer ask many things, yet you may answer him such
as you shall think meet, and write to me the rest."

Thus, not even her favourite Leicester's misrepresentations could make
the Queen forget her ancient friendship for "her own crow;" but meantime
the relations between that "bunch of brethren," black Norris and the
rest, and Pelham, Hollock, and other high officers in Leicester's army,
had grown worse than ever.

One August evening there was a supper-party at Count Hollock's quarters
in Gertruydenberg. A military foray into Brabant had just taken place,
under the lead of the Count, and of the Lord Marshal, Sir William Pelham.
The marshal had requested Lord Willoughby, with his troop of horse and
five hundred foot, to join in the enterprise, but, as usual, particular
pains had been taken that Sir John Norris should know nothing of the
affair. Pelham and Hollock--who was "greatly in love with Mr.
Pelham"--had invited several other gentlemen high in Leicester's
confidence to accompany the expedition; and, among the rest, Sir Philip
Sidney, telling him that he "should see some good service." Sidney came
accordingly, in great haste, from Flushing, bringing along with him
Edward Norris--that hot-headed young man, who, according to Leicester,
"greatly governed his elder brother"--but they arrived at Gertruydenberg
too late. The foray was over, and the party--"having burned a village,
and killed some boors"--were on their return. Sidney, not perhaps much
regretting the loss of his share in this rather inglorious shooting
party, went down to the water-side, accompanied by Captain Norris, to
meet Hollock and the other commanders.

As the Count stepped on shore he scowled ominously, and looked very much
out of temper.

"What has come to Hollock?" whispered Captain Patton, a Scotchman, to
Sidney. "Has he a quarrel with any of the party? Look at his face! He
means mischief to somebody."

But Sidney was equally amazed at the sudden change in the German
general's countenance, and as unable to explain it.

Soon afterwards, the whole party, Hollock, Lewis William of Nassau, Lord
Carew, Lord Essex, Lord Willoughby, both the Sidneys, Roger Williams,
Pelham, Edward Norris, and the rest, went to the Count's lodgings, where
they supped, and afterwards set themselves seriously to drinking.

Norris soon perceived that he was no welcome guest; for he was not--like
Sidney--a stranger to the deep animosity which had long existed between
Sir John Norris and Sir William Pelham and his friends. The carouse was a
tremendous one, as usually was the case where Hollock was the Amphitryon,
and, as the potations grew deeper, an intention became evident on the
part of some of the company to behave unhandsomely to Norris.

For a time the young Captain ostentatiously restrained himself, very much
after the fashion of those meek individuals who lay their swords on the
tavern-table, with "God grant I may have no need of thee!" The custom was
then prevalent at banquets for the revellers to pledge each other in
rotation, each draining a great cup, and exacting the same feat from his
neighbour, who then emptied his goblet as a challenge to his next
comrade.

The Lord Marshal took a beaker, and called out to Edward Norris. "I drink
to the health of my Lord Norris, and of my lady; your mother." So saying,
he emptied his glass.

The young man did not accept the pledge.

"Your Lordship knows," he said somewhat sullenly, "that I am not wont to
drink deep. Mr. Sidney there can tell you that, for my health's sake, I
have drank no wine these eight days. If your Lordship desires the
pleasure of seeing me drunk, I am not of the same mind. I pray you at
least to take a smaller glass."

Sir William insisted on the pledge. Norris then, in no very good humour,
emptied his cup to the Earl of Essex.

Essex responded by draining a goblet to Count Hollock.

"A Norris's father," said the young Earl; as he pledged the Count, who
was already very drunk, and looking blacker than ever.

"An 'orse's father--an 'orse's father!" growled' Hollock; "I never drink
to horses, nor to their fathers either:" and with this wonderful
witticism he declined the pledge.

Essex explained that the toast was Lord Norris, father of the Captain;
but the Count refused to understand, and held fiercely, and with damnable
iteration, to his jest.

The Earl repeated his explanation several times with no better success.
Norris meanwhile sat swelling with wrath, but said nothing.

Again the Lord Marshal took the same great glass, and emptied it to the
young Captain.

Norris, not knowing exactly what course to take, placed the glass at the
side of his plate, and glared grimly at Sir William.

Pelham was furious. Reaching over the table, he shoved the glass towards
Norris with an angry gesture.

"Take your glass, Captain Norris," he cried; "and if you have a mind to
jest, seek other companions. I am not to be trifled with; therefore, I
say, pledge me at once."

"Your Lordship shall not force me to drink more wine than I list,"
returned the other. "It is your pleasure to take advantage of your
military rank. Were we both at home, you would be glad to be my
companion."

Norris was hard beset, and although his language was studiously moderate,
it was not surprising that his manner should be somewhat insolent. The
veteran Lord Marshal, on the other hand, had distinguished himself on
many battle-fields, but his deportment at this banqueting-table was not
much to his credit. He paused a moment, and Norris, too, held his peace,
thinking that his enemy would desist.

It was but for a moment.

"Captain Norris," cried Pelham, "I bid you pledge me without more ado.
Neither you nor your best friends shall use me as you list. I am better
born than you and your brother, the colonel-general, and the whole of
you."

"I warn you to say nothing disrespectful against my brother," replied the
Captain. "As for yourself, I know how to respect your age and superior
rank."

"Drink, drink, drink!" roared the old Marshal. "I tell you I am better
born than the best of you. I have advanced you all too, and you know it;
therefore drink to me."

Sir William was as logical as men in their cups are prone to be.

"Indeed, you have behaved well to my brother Thomas," answered Norris,
suddenly becoming very courteous, "and for this I have ever loved your
Lordship, and would, do you any service."

"Well, then," said the Marshal, becoming tender in his turn, "forget what
hath past this night, and do as you would have done before."

"Very well said, indeed!" cried Sir Philip Sidney, trying to help the
natter into the smoother channel towards which it was tending.

Norris, seeing that the eyes of the whole company were upon them; took
the glass accordingly, and rose to his feet.

"My Lord Marshal," he said, "you have done me more wrong this night than
you can easily make satisfaction for. But I am unwilling that any trouble
or offence should grow through me. Therefore once more I pledge you."

He raised the cup to his lips. At that instant Hollock, to whom nothing
had been said, and who had spoken no word since his happy remark about
the horse's father, suddenly indulged in a more practical jest; and
seizing the heavy gilt cover of a silver vase, hurled it at the head of
Norris. It struck him full on the forehead, cutting him to the bone. The
Captain, stunned for a moment, fell back in his chair, with the blood
running down his eyes and face. The Count, always a man of few words, but
prompt in action, now drew his dagger, and strode forward, with the
intention of despatching him upon the spot. Sir Philip Sidney threw his
arms around Hollock, however, and, with the assistance of others in the
company, succeeded in dragging him from the room. The affair was over in
a few seconds.

Norris, coming back to consciousness, sat for a moment as one amazed,
rubbing the blood out of his eyes; then rose from the table to seek his
adversary; but he was gone.

Soon afterwards he went to his lodgings. The next morning he was advised
to leave the town as speedily as possible; for as it was under the
government of Hollock, and filled with his soldiers, he was warned that
his life would not be safe there an hour. Accordingly he went to his
boat, accompanied only by his man and his page, and so departed with his
broken head, breathing vengeance against Hollock, Pelham, Leicester, and
the whole crew, by whom he had been thus abused.

The next evening there was another tremendous carouse at the Count's,
and, says the reporter of the preceding scene, "they were all on such
good terms, that not one of the company had falling band or ruff left
about his neck. All were clean torn away, and yet there was no blood
drawn."

Edward Norris--so soon as might be afterwards--sent a cartel to the
Count, demanding mortal combat with sword and dagger. Sir Philip Sidney
bore the message. Sir John Norris, of course warmly and violently
espoused the cause of his brother, and was naturally more incensed
against the Lord Marshal than ever, for Sir William Pelham was considered
the cause of the whole affray. "Even if the quarrel is to be excused by
drink," said an eye-witness, "'tis but a slender defence for my Lord to
excuse himself by his cups; and often drink doth bewray men's humours and
unmask their malice. Certainly the Count Hollock thought to have done a
pleasure to the company in killing him."

Nothing could be more ill-timed than this quarrel, or more vexatious to
Leicester. The Count--although considering himself excessively injured at
being challenged by a simple captain and an untitled gentleman, whom he
had attempted to murder--consented to waive his privilege, and grant the
meeting.

Leicester interposed, however, to delay, and, if possible, to patch up
the affair. They were on the eve of active military operations, and it
was most vexatious for the commander-in-chief to see, as he said, "the
quarrel with the enemy changed to private revenge among ourselves." The
intended duel did not take place; for various influential personages
succeeded in deferring the meeting. Then came the battle of Zutphen.

Sidney fell, and Hollock was dangerously wounded in the attack which was
soon afterwards made upon the fort. He was still pressed to afford the
promised satisfaction, however, and agreed to do so whenever he should
rise from his bed.

Strange to say, the Count considered Leicester, throughout the whole
business, to have taken part against him.

Yet there is no doubt whatever that the Earl--who detested the Norrises,
and was fonder of Pelham than of any man living--uniformly narrated the
story most unjustly, to the discredit of the young Captain. He considered
him extremely troublesome, represented him as always quarrelling with
some one--with Colonel Morgan, Roger Williams, old Reade, and all the
rest--while the Lord Marshal, on the contrary, was depicted as the
mildest of men. "This I must say," he observed, "that all present, except
my two nephews (the Sidneys), who are not here yet, declare the greatest
fault to be in Edward Norris, and that he did most arrogantly use the
Marshal."

It is plain, however, that the old Marshal, under the influence of wine,
was at least quite as much to blame as the young Captain; and Sir Philip
Sidney sufficiently showed his sense of the matter by being the bearer of
Edward Norris's cartel. After Sidney's death, Sir John Norris, in his
letter of condolence to Walsingham for the death of his illustrious
son-in-law, expressed the deeper regret at his loss because Sir Philip's
opinion had been that the Norrises were wronged. Hollock had conducted
himself like a lunatic, but this he was apt to do whether in his cups or
not. He was always for killing some one or another on the slightest
provocation, and, while the dog-star of 1586 was raging, it was not his
fault if he had not already despatched both Edward Norris and the
objectionable "Mr. P. B."

For these energetic demonstrations against Leicester's enemies he
considered himself entitled to the Earl's eternal gratitude, and was
deeply disgusted at his apparent coldness. The governor was driven almost
to despair by these quarrels.

His colonel-general, his lord marshal, his lieutenant-general, were all
at daggers drawn. "Would God I were rid of this place!" he exclaimed.
"What man living would go to the field and have his officers divided
almost into mortal quarrel? One blow but by any of their lackeys brings
us altogether by the ears."

It was clear that there was not room enough on the Netherland soil for
the Earl of Leicester and the brothers Norris. The queen, while
apparently siding with the Earl, intimated to Sir John that she did not
disapprove his conduct, that she should probably recall him to England,
and that she should send him back to the Provinces after the Earl had
left that country.

Such had been the position of the governor-general towards the Queen,
towards the States-General, and towards his own countrymen, during the
year 1586.

     ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

     Are wont to hang their piety on the bell-rope
     Arminianism
     As logical as men in their cups are prone to be
     Tolerating religious liberty had never entered his mind




CHAPTER XI. 1586

   Drake in the Netherlands--Good Results of his Visit--The Babington
   Conspiracy--Leicester decides to visit England--Exchange of parting
   Compliments.

Late in the autumn of the same year an Englishman arrived in the
Netherlands, bearer of despatches from the Queen. He had been entrusted
by her Majesty with a special mission to the States-General, and he had
soon an interview with that assembly at the Hague.

He was a small man, apparently forty-five years of age, of a fair but
somewhat weather-stained complexion, with light-brown, closely-curling
hair, an expansive forehead, a clear blue eye, rather commonplace
features, a thin, brown, pointed beard, and a slight moustache. Though
low of stature, he was broad-chested, with well-knit limbs. His hands,
which were small and nervous, were brown and callous with the marks of
toil. There was something in his brow and glance not to be mistaken, and
which men willingly call master; yet he did not seem, to have sprung of
the born magnates of the earth. He wore a heavy gold chain about his
neck, and it might be observed that upon the light full sleeves of his
slashed doublet the image of a small ship on a terrestrial globe was
curiously and many times embroidered.

It was not the first time that he had visited the Netherlands. Thirty
years before the man had been apprentice on board a small lugger, which
traded between the English coast and the ports of Zeeland. Emerging in
early boyhood from his parental mansion--an old boat, turned bottom
upwards on a sandy down he had naturally taken to the sea, and his
master, dying childless not long afterwards, bequeathed to him the
lugger. But in time his spirit, too much confined by coasting in the
narrow seas, had taken a bolder flight. He had risked his hard-earned
savings in a voyage with the old slave-trader, John Hawkins--whose
exertions, in what was then considered an honourable and useful vocation,
had been rewarded by Queen Elizabeth with her special favour, and with a
coat of arms, the crest whereof was a negro's head, proper, chained--but
the lad's first and last enterprise in this field was unfortunate.
Captured by Spaniards, and only escaping with life, he determined to
revenge himself on the whole Spanish nation; and this was considered a
most legitimate proceeding according to the "sea divinity" in which he,
had been schooled. His subsequent expeditions against the Spanish
possessions in the West Indies were eminently successful, and soon the
name of Francis Drake rang through the world, and startled Philip in the
depths of his Escorial. The first Englishman, and the second of any
nation, he then ploughed his memorable "furrow round the earth," carrying
amazement and, destruction to the Spaniards as he sailed, and after three
years brought to the Queen treasure enough, as it was asserted, to
maintain a war with the Spanish King for seven years, and to pay himself
and companions, and the merchant-adventurers who had participated in his
enterprise, forty-seven pounds sterling for every pound invested in the
voyage. The speculation had been a fortunate one both, for himself and
for the kingdom.

The terrible Sea-King was one of the great types of the sixteenth
century. The self-helping private adventurer, in his little vessel the
'Golden Hind,' one hundred tons burthen, had waged successful war against
a mighty empire, and had shown England how to humble Philip. When he
again set foot on his native soil he was followed by admiring crowds, and
became the favourite hero of romance and ballad; for it was not the
ignoble pursuit of gold alone, through toil and peril, which had endeared
his name to the nation. The popular instinct recognized that the true
means had been found at last for rescuing England and Protestantism from
the overshadowing empire of Spain. The Queen visited him in his 'Golden
Hind,' and gave him the honour of knighthood.

The treaty between the United Netherlands and England had been followed
by an embargo upon English vessels, persons, and property, in the ports
of Spain; and after five years of unwonted repose, the privateersman
again set forth with twenty-five small vessels--of which five or six only
were armed--under his command, conjoined with that of General Carlisle.
This time the voyage was undertaken with full permission and assistance
of the Queen who, however, intended to disavow him, if she should find
such a step convenient. This was the expedition in which Philip Sidney
had desired to take part. The Queen watched its result with intense
anxiety, for the fate of her Netherland adventure was thought to be
hanging on the issue. "Upon Drake's voyage, in very truth, dependeth the
life and death of the cause, according to man's judgment," said
Walsingham.

The issue was encouraging, even, if the voyage--as a mercantile
speculation--proved not so brilliant as the previous enterprises of Sir
Francis had been. He returned in the midsummer of 1586, having captured
and brandschatzed St. Domingo and Carthagena; and burned St. Augustine.
"A fearful man to the King of Spain is Sir Francis Drake," said Lord
Burghley. Nevertheless, the Queen and the Lord-Treasurer--as we have
shown by the secret conferences at Greenwich--had, notwithstanding these
successes, expressed a more earnest desire for peace than ever.

A simple, sea-faring Englishman, with half-a-dozen miserable little
vessels, had carried terror, into the Spanish possessions all over the
earth: but even then the great Queen had not learned to rely on the
valour of her volunteers against her most formidable enemy.

Drake was, however, bent on another enterprise. The preparations for
Philip's great fleet had been going steadily forward in Lisbon, Cadiz,
and other ports of Spain and Portugal, and, despite assurances to the
contrary, there was a growing belief that England was to be invaded. To
destroy those ships before the monarch's face, would be, indeed, to
"singe his beard." But whose arm was daring enough for such a stroke?
Whose but that of the Devonshire skipper who had already accomplished so
much?

And so Sir Francis, "a man true to his word, merciful to those under him,
and hating nothing so much as idleness," had come to the Netherlands to
talk over his project with the States-General, and with the Dutch
merchants and sea-captains. His visit was not unfruitful. As a body the
assembly did nothing; but they recommended that in every maritime city of
Holland and Zeeland one or two ships should be got ready, to participate
in all the future enterprises of Sir Francis and his comrades.

The martial spirit of volunteer sailors, and the keen instinct of
mercantile speculation, were relied upon--exactly as in England--to
furnish men, ships, and money, for these daring and profitable
adventures. The foundation of a still more intimate connection between
England and Holland was laid, and thenceforth Dutchmen and Englishmen
fought side by side, on land and sea, wherever a blow was to be struck in
the cause of human freedom against despotic Spain.

The famous Babington conspiracy, discovered by Walsingham's "travail and
cost," had come to convince the Queen and her counsellors--if further
proof were not superfluous--that her throne and life were both
incompatible with Philip's deep designs, and that to keep that monarch
out of the Netherlands, was as vital to her as to keep him out of
England. "She is forced by this discovery to countenance the cause by all
outward means she may," said Walsingham, "for it appeareth unto her most
plain, that unless she had entered into the action, she had been utterly
undone, and that if she do not prosecute the same she cannot continue."
The Secretary had sent Leicester information at an early day of the great
secret, begging his friend to "make the letter a heretic after he had
read the same," and expressing the opinion that "the matter, if well
handled, would break the neck of all dangerous practices during her
Majesty's reign."

The tragedy of Mary Stuart--a sad but inevitable portion of the vast
drama in which the emancipation of England and Holland, and, through
them, of half Christendom, was accomplished--approached its catastrophe;
and Leicester could not restrain his anxiety for her immediate execution.
He reminded Walsingham that the great seal had been put upon a warrant
for her execution for a less crime seventeen years before, on the
occasion of the Northumberland and Westmorland rebellion. "For who can
warrant these villains from her," he said, "if that person live, or shall
live any time? God forbid! And be you all stout and resolute in this
speedy execution, or be condemned of all the world for ever. It is most.
certain, if you will have your Majesty safe, it must be done, for justice
doth crave it beside policy." His own personal safety was deeply
compromised. "Your Lordship and I," wrote Burghley, "were very great
motes in the traitors' eyes; for your Lordship there and I here should
first, about one time, have been killed. Of your Lordship they thought
rather of poisoning than slaying. After us two gone, they purposed her
Majesty's death."

But on this great affair of state the Earl was not swayed by such
personal considerations. He honestly thought--as did all the statesmen
who governed England--that English liberty, the very existence of the
English commonwealth, was impossible so long as Mary Stuart lived. Under
these circumstances he was not impatient, for a time at least, to leave
the Netherlands. His administration had not been very successful. He had
been led away by his own vanity, and by the flattery of artful
demagogues, but the immense obstacles with which he had to contend in the
Queen's wavering policy, and in the rivalry of both English and Dutch
politicians have been amply exhibited. That he had been generous,
courageous, and zealous, could not be denied; and, on the whole, he had
accomplished as much in the field as could have been expected of him with
such meagre forces, and so barren an exchequer.

It must be confessed, however, that his leaving the Netherlands at that
moment was a most unfortunate step, both for his own reputation and for
the security of the Provinces. Party-spirit was running high, and a
political revolution was much to be dreaded in so grave a position of
affairs, both in England and Holland. The arrangements--and particularly
the secret arrangements which he made at his departure--were the most
fatal measures of all; but these will be described in the following
chapter.

On the 31st October; the Earl announced to the state-council his
intention of returning to England, stating, as the cause of this sudden
determination, that he had been summoned to attend the parliament then
sitting in Westminster. Wilkes, who was of course present, having now
succeeded Killigrew as one of the two English members, observed that "the
States and council used but slender entreaty to his Excellency for his
stay and countenance there among them, whereat his Excellency and we that
were of the council for her Majesty did not a little marvel."

Some weeks later, however, upon the 21st November, Leicester summoned
Barneveld, and five other of the States General, to discuss the necessary
measures for his departure, when those gentlemen remonstrated very
earnestly upon the step, pleading the danger and confusion of affairs
which must necessarily ensue. The Earl declared that he was not retiring
from the country because he was offended, although he had many causes for
offence: and he then alluded to the Navigation Act, to the establishment
council, and spoke of the finance of Burgrave and Reingault, for his
employment of which individuals so much obloquy had been heaped upon his,
head. Burgrave he pronounced, as usual, a substantial, wise, faithful,
religious personage, entitled to fullest confidence; while Reingault--who
had been thrown into prison by the States on charges of fraud,
peculation, and sedition--he declared to be a great financier, who had
promised, on penalty of his head, to bring "great sums into the treasury
for carrying on the war, without any burthen to the community." Had he
been able to do this, he had certainly claim to be considered the
greatest of financiers; but the promised "mountains of gold" were never
discovered, and Reingault was now awaiting his trial.

The deputies replied that the concessions upon the Navigation Act had
satisfied the country, but that Reingault was a known instrument of the
Spaniards, and Burgrave a mischief-making demagogue, who consorted with
malignants, and sent slanderous reports concerning the States and the
country to her Majesty. They had in consequence felt obliged to write
private despatches to envoy Ortel in England, not because they suspected
the Earl, but in order to counteract the calumnies of his chief advisers.
They had urged the agent to bring the imprisonment of Paul Buys before
her Majesty, but for that transaction Leicester boldly disclaimed all
responsibility.

It was agreed between the Earl and the deputies that, during his absence,
the whole government, civil and military, should devolve upon the
state-council, and that Sir John Norris should remain in command of the
English forces.

Two days afterwards Leicester, who knew very well that a legation was
about to proceed to England, without any previous concurrence on his
part, summoned a committee of the States-General, together with
Barneveld, into the state-council. Counsellor Wilkes on his behalf then
made a speech, in which he observed that more ample communications on the
part of the States were to be expected. They had in previous colloquies
touched upon comparatively unimportant matters, but he now begged to be
informed why these commissioners were proceeding to England, and what was
the nature of their instructions. Why did not they formally offer the
sovereignty of the Provinces to the Queen without conditions? That step
had already been taken by Utrecht.

The deputies conferred apart for a little while, and then replied that
the proposition made by Utrecht was notoriously factious, illegal, and
altogether futile. Without the sanction of all the United States, of what
value was the declaration of Utrecht? Moreover the charter of that
province had been recklessly violated, its government overthrown, and its
leading citizens banished. The action of the Province under such
circumstances was not deserving of comment; but should it appear that her
Majesty was desirous of assuming the sovereignty of the Provinces upon
reasonable conditions, the States of Holland and of Zeeland would not be
found backward in the business.

Leicester proposed that Prince Maurice of Nassau should go with him to
England, as nominal chief of the embassy, and some of the deputies
favoured the suggestion. It was however, vigorously and successfully
opposed by Barneveld, who urged that to leave the country without a head
in such a dangerous position of affairs, would be an act of madness.
Leicester was much annoyed when informed of this decision. He was
suspected of a design, during his absence, of converting Maurice entirely
to his own way of thinking. If unsuccessful, it was believed by the
Advocate and by many others that the Earl would cause the young Prince to
be detained in England as long as Philip William, his brother, had been
kept in Spain. He observed peevishly that he knew how it had all been
brought about.

Words, of course, and handsome compliments were exchanged between the
Governor and the States-General on his departure. He protested that he
had never pursued any private ends during his administration, but had
ever sought to promote the good of the country and the glory of the
Queen, and that he had spent three hundred thousand florins of his own
money in the brief period of his residence there.

The Advocate, on part of the States, assured him that they were all aware
that in the friendship of England lay their only chance of salvation, but
that united action was the sole means by which that salvation could be
effected, and the one which had enabled the late Prince of Orange to
maintain a contest unequalled by anything recorded in history. There was
also much disquisition on the subject of finance--the Advocate observing
that the States now raised as much in a month as the Provinces in the
time of the Emperor used to levy in a year--and expressed the hope that
the Queen would increase her contingent to ten thousand foot, and two
thousand horse. He repudiated, in the name of the States-General and his
own, the possibility of peace-negotiations; deprecated any allusion to
the subject as fatal to their religion, their liberty, their very
existence, and equally disastrous to England and to Protestantism, and
implored the Earl, therefore, to use all his influence in opposition to
any pacific overtures to or from Spain.

On the 24th November, acts were drawn up and signed by the Earl,
according to which the supreme government of the United Netherlands was
formally committed to the state-council during his absence. Decrees were
to be pronounced in the name of his Excellency, and countersigned by
Maurice of Nassau.

On the following day, Leicester, being somewhat indisposed, requested a
deputation of the States-General to wait upon him in his own house. This
was done, and a formal and affectionate farewell was then read to him by
his secretary, Mr. Atye. It was responded to in complimentary fashion by
Advocate Barneveld, who again took occasion at this parting interview to
impress upon the governor the utter impossibility, in his own opinion and
that of the other deputies, of reconciling the Provinces with Spain.

Leicester received from the States--as a magnificent parting present--a
silver gilt vase "as tall as a man," and then departed for Flushing to
take shipping for England.




CHAPTER XII.

   Ill-timed Interregnum in the Provinces--Firmness of the English and
   Dutch People--Factions during Leicester's Government--Democratic
   Theories of the Leicestriana--Suspicions as to the Earl's Designs--
   Extreme Views of the Calvinists--Political Ambition of the Church--
   Antagonism of the Church and States--The States inclined to
   Tolerance--Desolation of the Obedient Provinces--Pauperism and
   Famine--Prosperity of the Republic--The Year of Expectation.

It was not unnatural that the Queen should desire the presence of her
favourite at that momentous epoch, when the dread question, "aut fer aut
feri," had at last demanded its definite solution. It was inevitable,
too, that Leicester should feel great anxiety to be upon the spot where
the great tragedy, so full of fate to all Christendom, and in which his
own fortunes were so closely involved, was to be enacted. But it was most
cruel to the Netherlands--whose well-being was nearly as important to
Elizabeth as that of her own realm--to plunge them into anarchy at such a
moment. Yet this was the necessary result of the sudden retirement of
Leicester.

He did not resign his government. He did not bind himself to return. The
question of sovereignty was still unsettled, for it was still hoped by a
large and influential party, that the English Queen would accept the
proposed annexation. It was yet doubtful, whether, during the period of
abeyance, the States-General or the States-Provincial, each within their
separate sphere, were entitled to supreme authority. Meantime, as if here
were not already sufficient elements of dissension and doubt, came a
sudden and indefinite interregnum, a provisional, an abnormal, and an
impotent government. To the state-council was deputed the executive
authority. But the state-council was a creature of the States-General,
acting in concert with the governor-general, and having no actual life of
its own. It was a board of consultation, not of decision, for it could
neither enact its own decrees nor interpose a veto upon the decrees of
the governor.

Certainly the selection of Leicester to fill so important a post had not
been a very fortunate one; and the enthusiasm which had greeted him, "as
if he had been a Messiah," on his arrival, had very rapidly dwindled
away, as his personal character became known. The leading politicians of
the country had already been aware of the error which they had committed
in clothing with almost sovereign powers the delegate of one who had
refused the sovereignty. They, were too adroit to neglect the
opportunity, which her Majesty's anger offered them, of repairing what
they considered their blunder. When at last the quarrel, which looked so
much like a lovers' quarrel, between Elizabeth and 'Sweet Robin,' had
been appeased to the satisfaction of Robin, his royal mistress became
more angry with the States for circumscribing than she had before been
for their exaggeration of his authority. Hence the implacable hatred of
Leicester to Paul Buys and Barneveld.

Those two statesmen, for eloquence, learning, readiness, administrative
faculty, surpassed by few who have ever wielded the destinies of free
commonwealths, were fully equal to the task thrown upon their hands by
the progress of events. That task was no slight one, for it was to the
leading statesmen of Holland and England, sustained by the indomitable
resistance to despotism almost universal in the English and Dutch
nations, that the liberty of Europe was entrusted at that, momentous
epoch. Whether united under one crown, as the Netherlands ardently
desired, or closely allied for aggression and defence, the two peoples
were bound indissolubly together. The clouds were rolling up from the
fatal south, blacker and more portentous than ever; the artificial
equilibrium of forces, by which the fate of France was kept in suspense,
was obviously growing every day more uncertain; but the prolonged and
awful interval before the tempest should burst over the lands of freedom
and Protestantism, gave at least time for the prudent to prepare. The
Armada was growing every day in the ports of Spain and Portugal, and
Walsingham doubted, as little as did Buys or Barneveld, toward what
shores that invasion was to be directed. England was to be conquered in
order that the rebellious Netherlands might be reduced; and 'Mucio' was
to be let slip upon the unhappy Henry III. so soon as it was thought
probable that the Bearnese and the Valois had sufficiently exhausted each
other. Philip was to reign in Paris, Amsterdam, London, and Edinburgh,
without stirring from the Escorial. An excellent programme, had there not
been some English gentlemen, some subtle secretaries of state, some
Devonshire skippers, some Dutch advocates and merchants, some Zeeland
fly-boatsmen, and six million men, women, and children, on the two sides
of the North Sea, who had the power of expressing their thoughts rather
bluntly than otherwise, in different dialects of old Anglo-Saxon speech.

Certainly it would be unjust and ungracious to disparage the heroism of
the great Queen when the hour of danger really came, nor would it be
legitimate for us, who can scan that momentous year of expectation, 1587,
by the light of subsequent events and of secret contemporaneous record,
to censure or even sharply to criticise the royal hankering for peace,
when peace had really become impossible. But as we shall have occasion to
examine rather closely the secrets of the Spanish, French, English, and
Dutch councils, during this epoch, we are likely to find, perhaps, that
at least as great a debt is due to the English and Dutch people, in mass,
for the preservation of European liberty at that disastrous epoch as to
any sovereign, general, or statesman.

For it was in the great waters of the sixteenth century that the nations
whose eyes were open, discovered the fountain of perpetual youth, while
others, who were blind, passed rapidly onward to decrepitude. England
was, in many respects, a despotism so far as regarded governmental forms;
and no doubt the Catholics were treated with greater rigour than could be
justified even by the perpetual and most dangerous machinations of the
seminary priests and their instigators against the throne and life of
Elizabeth. The word liberty was never musical in Tudor ears, yet
Englishmen had blunt tongues and sharp weapons which rarely rusted for
want of use. In the presence of a parliament, and the absence of a
standing army, a people accustomed to read the Bible in the vernacular,
to handle great questions of religion and government freely, and to bear
arms at will, was most formidable to despotism. There was an advance on
the olden time. A Francis Drake, a John Hawkins, a Roger Williams, might
have been sold, under the Plantagenets, like an ox or an ass. A 'female
villain' in the reign of Henry III. could have been purchased for
eighteen shillings--hardly the price of a fatted pig, and not one-third
the value of an ambling palfrey--and a male villain, such an one as could
in Elizabeth's reign circumnavigate the globe in his own ship, or take
imperial field-marshals by the beard, was worth but two or three pounds
sterling in the market. Here was progress in three centuries, for the
villains were now become admirals and generals in England and Holland,
and constituted the main stay of these two little commonwealths, while
the commanders who governed the 'invincible' fleets and armies of
omnipotent Spain, were all cousins of emperors, or grandees of bluest
blood. Perhaps the system of the reformation would not prove the least
effective in the impending crisis.

It was most important, then, that these two nations should be united in
council, and should stand shoulder to shoulder as their great enemy
advanced. But this was precisely what had been rendered almost impossible
by the course of events during Leicester's year of administration, and by
his sudden but not final retirement at its close. The two great national
parties which had gradually been forming, had remained in a fluid state
during the presence of the governor-general. During his absence they
gradually hardened into the forms which they were destined to retain for
centuries. In the history of civil liberty, these incessant contests,
these oral and written disquisitions, these sharp concussions of opinion,
and the still harder blows, which, unfortunately, were dealt on a few
occasions by the combatants upon each other, make the year 1587 a
memorable one. The great questions of the origin of government, the
balance of dynastic forces, the distribution of powers, were dealt with
by the ablest heads, both Dutch and English, that could be employed in
the service of the kingdom and republic. It was a war of protocols,
arguments, orations, rejoinders, apostilles, and pamphlets; very
wholesome for the cause of free institutions and the intellectual
progress of mankind. The reader may perhaps be surprised to see with how
much vigour and boldness the grave questions which underlie all polity,
were handled so many years before the days of Russell and Sidney, of
Montesquieu and Locke, Franklin, Jefferson, Rousseau, and Voltaire; and
he may be even more astonished to find exceedingly democratic doctrines
propounded, if not believed in, by trained statesmen of the Elizabethan
school. He will be also apt to wonder that a more fitting time could not
be found for such philosophical debate than the epoch at which both the
kingdom and the republic were called upon to strain every sinew against
the most formidable and aggressive despotism that the world had known
since the fall of the Roman Empire.

The great dividing-line between the two parties, that of Leicester and
that of Holland, which controlled the action of the States-General, was
the question of sovereignty. After the declaration of independence and
the repudiation of Philip, to whom did the sovereignty belong? To the
people, said the Leicestrians. To the States-General and the
States-Provincial, as legitimate representatives of the people, said the
Holland party. Without looking for the moment more closely into this
question, which we shall soon find ably discussed by the most acute
reasoners of the time, it is only important at present to make a
preliminary reflection. The Earl of Leicester, of all men is the world,
would seem to have been precluded by his own action, and by the action of
his Queen, from taking ground against the States. It was the States who,
by solemn embassy, had offered the sovereignty to Elizabeth. She had not
accepted the offer, but she had deliberated on the subject, and certainly
she had never expressed a doubt whether or not the offer had been legally
made. By the States, too, that governor-generalship had been conferred
upon the Earl, which had been so thankfully and eagerly accepted. It was
strange, then, that he should deny the existence of the power whence his
own authority was derived. If the States were not sovereigns of the
Netherlands, he certainly was nothing. He was but general of a few
thousand English troops.

The Leicester party, then, proclaimed extreme democratic principles as to
the origin of government and the sovereignty of the people. They sought
to strengthen and to make almost absolute the executive authority of
their chief, on the ground that such was the popular will; and they
denounced with great acrimony the insolence of the upstart members of the
States, half a dozen traders, hired advocates, churls, tinkers, and the
like--as Leicester was fond of designating the men who opposed him--in
assuming these airs of sovereignty.

This might, perhaps, be philosophical doctrine, had its supporters not
forgotten that there had never been any pretence at an expression of the
national will, except through the mouths of the States. The
States-General and the States-Provincial, without any usurpation, but as
a matter of fact and of great political convenience, had, during fifteen
years, exercised the authority which had fallen from Philip's hands. The
people hitherto had acquiesced in their action, and certainly there had
not yet been any call for a popular convention, or any other device to
ascertain the popular will. It was also difficult to imagine what was the
exact entity of this abstraction called the "people" by men who expressed
such extreme contempt for "merchants, advocates, town-orators, churls,
tinkers, and base mechanic men, born not to command but to obey." Who
were the people when the educated classes and the working classes were
thus carefully eliminated? Hardly the simple peasantry--the boors--who
tilled the soil. At that day the agricultural labourers less than all
others dreamed of popular sovereignty, and more than all others submitted
to the mild authority of the States. According to the theory of the
Netherland constitutions, they were supposed--and they had themselves not
yet discovered the fallacies to which such doctrines could lead--to be
represented by the nobles and country-squires who maintained in the
States of each Province the general farming interests of the republic.
Moreover, the number of agricultural peasants was comparatively small.
The lower classes were rather accustomed to plough the sea than the land,
and their harvests were reaped from that element, which to Hollanders and
Zeelanders was less capricious than the solid earth. Almost every
inhabitant of those sea-born territories was, in one sense or another, a
mariner; for every highway was a canal; the soil was percolated by rivers
and estuaries, pools and meres; the fisheries were the nurseries in which
still more daring navigators rapidly learned their trade, and every child
took naturally to the ocean as to its legitimate home.

The "people," therefore, thus enthroned by the Leicestrians over all the
inhabitants of the country, appeared to many eyes rather a misty
abstraction, and its claim of absolute sovereignty a doctrine almost as
fantastic as that of the divine right of kings. The Netherlanders were,
on the whole, a law-abiding people, preferring to conduct even a
revolution according to precedent, very much attached to ancient usages
and traditions, valuing the liberties, as they called them, which they
had wrested from what had been superior force, with their own right
hands, preferring facts to theories, and feeling competent to deal with
tyrants in the concrete rather than to annihilate tyranny in the abstract
by a bold and generalizing phraseology. Moreover the opponents of the
Leicester party complained that the principal use to which this newly
discovered "people" had been applied, was to confer its absolute
sovereignty unconditionally upon one man. The people was to be sovereign
in order that it might immediately abdicate in favour of the Earl.

Utrecht, the capital of the Leicestrians, had already been deprived of
its constitution. The magistracy was, according to law, changed every
year. A list of candidates was furnished by the retiring board, an equal
number of names was added by the governor of the Province, and from the
catalogue thus composed the governor with his council selected the new
magistrates for the year. But De Villiers, the governor of the Province,
had been made a prisoner by the enemy in the last campaign; Count Moeurs
had been appointed provisional stadholder by the States; and, during his
temporary absence on public affairs, the Leicestrians had seized upon the
government, excluded all the ancient magistrates, banished many leading
citizens from the town, and installed an entirely new board, with Gerard
Proninck, called Deventer, for chief burgomaster, who was a Brabantine
refugee just arrived in the Province, and not eligible to office until
after ten years' residence.

It was not unnatural that the Netherlanders, who remembered the scenes of
bloodshed and disorder produced by the memorable attempt of the Duke of
Anjou to obtain possession of Antwerp and other cities, should be
suspicious of Leicester. Anjou, too, had been called to the Provinces by
the voluntary action of the States. He too had been hailed as a Messiah
and a deliverer. In him too had unlimited confidence been reposed, and he
had repaid their affection and their gratitude by a desperate attempt to
obtain the control of their chief cities by the armed hand, and thus to
constitute himself absolute sovereign of the Netherlands. The inhabitants
had, after a bloody contest, averted the intended massacre and the
impending tyranny; but it was not astonishing that--so very, few years
having elapsed since those tragical events--they should be inclined to
scan severely the actions of the man who had already obtained by
unconstitutional means the mastery of a most important city, and was
supposed to harbour designs upon all the cities.

No, doubt it was a most illiberal and unwise policy for the inhabitants
of the independent States to exclude from office the wanderers, for
conscience' sake, from the obedient Provinces. They should have been
welcomed heart and hand by those who were their brethren in religion and
in the love of freedom. Moreover, it was notorious that Hohenlo,
lieutenant-general under Maurice of Nassau, was a German, and that by the
treaty with England, two foreigners sat in the state council, while the
army swarmed with English, Irish, end German officers in high command.
Nevertheless, violently to subvert the constitution of a Province, and to
place in posts of high responsibility men who were ineligible--some whose
characters were suspicious, and some who were known to be dangerous, and
to banish large numbers of respectable burghers--was the act of a despot.

Besides their democratic doctrines, the Leicestrians proclaimed and
encouraged an exclusive and rigid Calvinism.

It would certainly be unjust and futile to detract from the vast debt
which the republic owed to the Geneva Church. The reformation had entered
the Netherlands by the Walloon gate. The earliest and most eloquent
preachers, the most impassioned converts, the sublimest martyrs, had
lived, preached, fought, suffered, and died with the precepts of Calvin
in their hearts. The fire which had consumed the last vestige of royal
and sacerdotal despotism throughout the independent republic, had been
lighted by the hands of Calvinists.

Throughout the blood-stained soil of France, too, the men who were
fighting the same great battle as were the Netherlanders against Philip
II. and the Inquisition, the valiant cavaliers of Dauphiny and Provence,
knelt on the ground, before the battle, smote their iron breasts with
their mailed hands, uttered a Calvinistic prayer, sang a psalm of Marot,
and then charged upon Guise, or upon Joyeuse, under the white plume of
the Bearnese. And it was on the Calvinist weavers and clothiers of
Rochelle that the great Prince relied in the hour of danger as much as on
his mountain chivalry. In England too, the seeds of liberty, wrapped up
in Calvinism and hoarded through many trying years, were at last destined
to float over land and sea, and to bear large harvests of temperate
freedom for great commonwealths, which were still unborn. Nevertheless
there was a growing aversion in many parts of the States for the rigid
and intolerant spirit of the reformed religion. There were many men in
Holland who had already imbibed the true lesson--the only, one worth
learning of the reformation--liberty of thought; but toleration in the
eyes of the extreme Calvinistic party was as great a vice as it could be
in the estimation of Papists. To a favoured few of other habits of
thought, it had come to be regarded as a virtue; but the day was still
far distant when men were to scorn the very word toleration as an insult
to the dignity of man; as if for any human being or set of human beings,
in caste, class, synod, or church, the right could even in imagination be
conceded of controlling the consciences of their fellow-creatures.

But it was progress for the sixteenth century that there were
individuals, and prominent individuals, who dared to proclaim liberty of
conscience for all. William of Orange was a Calvinist, sincere and rigid,
but he denounced all oppression of religion, and opened wide the doors of
the Commonwealth to Papists, Lutherans, and Anabaptists alike. The Earl
of Leicester was a Calvinist, most rigid in tenet, most edifying of
conversation, the acknowledged head of the Puritan party of England, but
he was intolerant and was influenced only by the most intolerant of his
sect. Certainly it would have required great magnanimity upon his part to
assume a friendly demeanour towards the Papists. It is easier for us, in
more favoured ages, to rise to the heights of philosophical abstraction,
than for a man, placed as was Leicester, in the front rank of a mighty
battle, in which the triumph of either religion seemed to require the
bodily annihilation of all its adversaries. He believed that the success
of a Catholic conspiracy against the life of Elizabeth or of a Spanish
invasion of England, would raise Mary to the throne and consign himself
to the scaffold. He believed that the subjugation of the independent
Netherlands would place the Spaniards instantly in England, and he
frequently received information, true or false, of Popish plots that were
ever hatching in various parts of the Provinces against the English
Queen. It was not surprising, therefore, although it was unwise, that he
should incline his ear most seriously to those who counselled severe
measures not only against Papists, but against those who were not
persecutors of Papists, and that he should allow himself to be guided by
adventurers, who wore the mask of religion only that they might plunder
the exchequer and rob upon the highway.

Under the administration of this extreme party, therefore, the Papists
were maltreated, disfranchised, banished, and plundered. The distribution
of the heavy war-taxes, more than two-thirds of which were raised in
Holland only, was confided to foreigners, and regulated mainly at
Utrecht, where not one-tenth part of the same revenue was collected. This
naturally excited the wrath of the merchants and manufacturers of Holland
and the other Provinces, who liked not that these hard-earned and
lavishly-paid subsidies should be meddled with by any but the cleanest
hands.

The clergy, too, arrogated a direct influence in political affairs. Their
demonstrations were opposed by the anti-Leicestrians, who cared not to
see a Geneva theocracy in the place of the vanished Papacy. They had as
little reverence in secular affairs for Calvinistic deacons as for the
college of cardinals, and would as soon accept the infallibility of
Sixtus V. as that of Herman Modet. The reformed clergy who had
dispossessed and confiscated the property of the ancient ecclesiastics
who once held a constitutional place in the Estates of Utrecht--although
many of those individuals were now married and had embraced the reformed
religion who had demolished, and sold at public auction, for 12,300
florins, the time-honoured cathedral where the earliest Christians of the
Netherlands had worshipped, and St. Willibrod had ministered, were
roundly rebuked, on more than one occasion, by the blunt matters beyond
their sphere.

The party of the States-General, as opposed to the Leicester party, was
guided by the statesmen of Holland. At a somewhat later period was formed
the States-right party, which claimed sovereignty for each Province, and
by necessary consequence the hegemony throughout the confederacy, for
Holland. At present the doctrine maintained was that the sovereignty
forfeited by Philip had naturally devolved upon the States-General. The
statesmen of this party repudiated the calumny that it had therefore
lapsed into the hands of half a dozen mechanics and men of low degree.
The States of each Province were, they maintained, composed of nobles and
country-gentlemen, as representing the agricultural interest, and of
deputies from the 'vroedschappen,' or municipal governments, of every
city and smallest town.

Such men as Adrian Van der Werff, the heroic burgomaster of Leyden during
its famous siege, John Van der Does, statesman, orator, soldier, poet,
Adolphus Meetkerke, judge, financier, politician, Carl Roorda, Noel de
Carom diplomatist of most signal ability, Floris Thin, Paul Buys, and
Olden-Barneveld, with many others, who would have done honour to the
legislative assemblies and national councils in any country or any age,
were constantly returned as members of the different vroedschaps in the
commonwealth.

So far from its being true then that half a dozen ignorant mechanics had
usurped the sovereignty of the Provinces, after the abjuration of the
Spanish King, it may be asserted in general terms, that of the eight
hundred thousand inhabitants of Holland at least eight hundred persons
were always engaged in the administration of public affairs, that these
individuals were perpetually exchanged for others, and that those whose
names became most prominent in the politics of the day were remarkable
for thorough education, high talents, and eloquence with tongue and pen.
It was acknowledged by the leading statesmen of England and France, on
repeated occasions throughout the sixteenth century, that the
diplomatists and statesmen of the Netherlands were even more than a match
for any politicians who were destined to encounter them, and the profound
respect which Leicester expressed for these solid statesmen, these
"substantial, wise, well-languaged" men, these "big fellows," so soon as
he came in contact with them, and before he began to hate them for
outwitting him, has already appeared. They were generally men of the
people, born without any of the accidents of fortune; but, the leaders
had studied in the common schools, and later in the noble universities of
a land where to be learned and eloquent was fast becoming almost as great
an honour as to be wealthy or high born.

The executive, the legislative, and the judiciary departments were more
carefully and scientifically separated than could perhaps have been
expected in that age. The lesser municipal courts, in which city-senators
presided, were subordinate to the supreme court of Holland, whose
officers were appointed by the stadholders and council; the supplies were
in the hands of the States-Provincial, and the supreme administrative
authority was confided to a stadholder appointed by the states.

The States-General were constituted of similar materials to those of
which the States-Provincial were constructed, and the same individuals
were generally prominent in both. They were deputies appointed by the
Provincial Estates, were in truth rather more like diplomatic envoys than
senators, were generally bound very strictly by instructions, and were
often obliged, by the jealousy springing from the States-right principle,
to refer to their constituents, on questions when the times demanded a
sudden decision, and when the necessary delay was inconvenient and
dangerous.

In religious matters, the States-party, to their honour, already leaned
to a wide toleration. Not only Catholics were not burned, but they were
not banished, and very large numbers remained in the territory, and were
quite undisturbed in religious matters, within their own doors. There
were even men employed in public affairs who were suspected of papistical
tendencies, although their hostility, to Spain and their attachment to
their native land could not fairly be disputed. The leaders of the
States-party had a rooted aversion to any political influence on the part
of the clergy of any denomination whatever. Disposed to be lenient to all
forms of worship, they were disinclined to an established church, but
still more opposed to allowing church-influence in secular affairs. As a
matter of course, political men with such bold views in religious matters
were bitterly assailed by their rigid opponents. Barneveld, with his "nil
scire tutissima fides," was denounced as a disguised Catholic or an
infidel, and as for Paul Buys, he was a "bolsterer of Papists, an
atheist, a devil," as it has long since been made manifest.

Nevertheless these men believed that they understood the spirit of their
country and of the age. In encouragement to an expanding commerce, the
elevation and education of the masses, the toleration of all creeds, and
a wide distribution of political functions and rights, they looked for
the salvation of their nascent republic from destruction, and the
maintenance of the true interests of the people. They were still loyal to
Queen Elizabeth, and desirous that she should accept the sovereignty of
the Provinces. But they were determined that the sovereignty should be a
constitutional one, founded upon and limited by the time-honoured laws
and traditions of their commonwealth; for they recognised the value of a
free republic with an hereditary chief, however anomalous it might in
theory appear. They knew that in Utrecht the Leicestrian party were about
to offer the Queen the sovereignty of their Province, without conditions,
but they were determined that neither Queen Elizabeth nor any other
monarch should ever reign in the Netherlands, except under conditions to
be very accurately defined and well secured.

Thus, contrasted, then, were the two great parties in the Netherlands, at
the conclusion of Leicester's first year of administration. It may easily
be understood that it was not an auspicious moment to leave the country
without a chief.

The strength of the States-party lay in Holland, Zeeland, Friesland. The
main stay of the democratic or Leicester faction was in the city of
Utrecht, but the Earl had many partizans in Gelderland, Friesland, and in
Overyssel, the capital of which Province, the wealthy and thriving
Deventer, second only in the republic to Amsterdam for commercial and
political importance, had been but recently secured for the Provinces by
the vigorous measures of Sir William Pelham.

The condition of the republic and of the Spanish Provinces was, at that
moment, most signally contrasted. If the effects of despotism and of
liberty could ever be exhibited at a single glance, it was certainly only
necessary to look for a moment at the picture of the obedient and of the
rebel Netherlands.

Since the fall of Antwerp, the desolation of Brabant, Flanders, and of
the Walloon territories had become complete. The King had recovered the
great commercial capital, but its commerce was gone. The Scheldt, which,
till recently, had been the chief mercantile river in the world, had
become as barren as if its fountains had suddenly dried up. It was as if
it no longer flowed to the ocean, for its mouth was controlled by
Flushing. Thus Antwerp was imprisoned and paralyzed. Its docks and
basins, where 2500 ships had once been counted, were empty, grass was
growing in its streets, its industrious population had vanished, and the
Jesuits had returned in swarms. And the same spectacle was presented by
Ghent, Bruges, Valenciennes, Tournay, and those other fair cities, which
had once been types of vigorous industry and tumultuous life. The
sea-coast was in the hands of two rising commercial powers, the great and
free commonwealths of the future. Those powers were acting in concert,
and commanding the traffic of the world, while the obedient Provinces
were excluded from all foreign intercourse and all markets, as the result
of their obedience. Commerce, manufactures, agriculture; were dying
lingering deaths. The thrifty farms, orchards, and gardens, which had
been a proverb and wonder of industry were becoming wildernesses. The
demand for their produce by the opulent and thriving cities, which had
been the workshops of the world, was gone. Foraging bands of Spanish and
Italian mercenaries had succeeded to the famous tramp of the artizans and
mechanics, which had often been likened to an army, but these new
customers were less profitable to the gardeners and farmers. The
clothiers, the fullers, the tapestry-workers, the weavers, the cutlers,
had all wandered away, and the cities of Holland, Friesland, and of
England, were growing skilful and rich by the lessons and the industry of
the exiles to whom they afforded a home. There were villages and small
towns in the Spanish Netherlands that had been literally depopulated.
Large districts of country had gone to waste, and cane-brakes and squalid
morasses usurped the place of yellow harvest-fields. The fog, the wild
boar, and the wolf, infested the abandoned homes of the peasantry;
children could not walk in safety in the neighbourhood even of the larger
cities; wolves littered their young in the deserted farm-houses; two
hundred persons, in the winter of 1586-7, were devoured by wild beasts in
the outskirts of Ghent. Such of the remaining labourers and artizans as
had not been converted into soldiers, found their most profitable
employment as brigands, so that the portion of the population spared by
war and emigration was assisting the enemy in preying upon their native
country. Brandschatzung, burglary, highway-robbery, and murder, had
become the chief branches of industry among the working classes. Nobles
and wealthy burghers had been changed to paupers and mendicants. Many a
family of ancient lineage, and once of large possessions, could be seen
begging their bread, at the dusk of evening, in the streets of great
cities, where they had once exercised luxurious hospitality; and they
often begged in vain.

For while such was the forlorn aspect of the country--and the portrait,
faithfully sketched from many contemporary pictures, has not been
exaggerated in any of its dark details--a great famine smote the land
with its additional scourge. The whole population, soldiers and brigands,
Spaniards and Flemings, beggars and workmen, were in danger of perishing
together. Where the want of employment had been so great as to cause a
rapid depopulation, where the demand for labour had almost entirely
ceased, it was a necessary result, that during the process, prices should
be low, even in the presence of foreign soldiery, and despite the
inflamed' profits, which such capitalists as remained required, by way
not only of profit but insurance, in such troublous times. Accordingly,
for the last year or two, the price of rye at Antwerp and Brussels had
been one florin for the veertel (three bushels) of one hundred and twenty
pounds; that of wheat, about one-third of a florin more. Five pounds of
rye, therefore, were worth, one penny sterling, reckoning, as was then
usual, two shillings to the florin. A pound weight of wheat was worth
about one farthing. Yet this was forty-one years after the discovery of
the mines of Potosi (A.D. 1545), and full sixteen years after the epoch;
from which is dated that rapid fall in the value of silver, which in the
course of seventy years, caused the average price of corn and of all
other commodities, to be tripled or even quadrupled. At that very moment
the average cost of wheat in England was sixty-four shillings the
quarter, or about seven and sixpence sterling the bushel, and in the
markets of Holland, which in truth regulated all others, the same prices
prevailed. A bushel of wheat in England was equal therefore to eight
bushels in Brussels.

Thus the silver mines, which were the Spanish King's property, had
produced their effect everywhere more signally than within the obedient
Provinces. The South American specie found its way to Philip's coffers,
thence to the paymasters of his troops in Flanders, and thence to the
commercial centres of Holland and England. Those countries, first to feel
and obey the favourable expanding impulse of the age, were moving surely
and steadily on before it to greatness. Prices were rising with
unexampled rapidity, the precious metals were comparatively a drug, a
world-wide commerce, such as had never been dreamed of, had become an
every-day concern, the arts and sciences and a most generous culture in
famous schools and universities, which had been founded in the midst of
tumult and bloodshed, characterized the republic, and the golden age of
English poetry, which was to make the Elizabethan era famous through all
time, had already begun.

In the Spanish Netherlands the newly-found treasure served to pay the
only labourers required in a subjugated and almost deserted country, the
pikemen of Spain and Italy, and the reiters of Germany. Prices could not
sustain themselves in the face of depopulation. Where there was no
security for property, no home-market, no foreign intercourse, industrial
pursuits had become almost impossible. The small demand for labour had
caused it, as it were, to disappear, altogether. All men had become
beggars, brigands, or soldiers. A temporary reaction followed. There were
no producers. Suddenly it was discovered that no corn had been planted,
and that there was no harvest. A famine was the inevitable result. Prices
then rose with most frightful rapidity. The veertel of rye, which in the
previous year had been worth one florin at Brussels and Antwerp, rose in
the winter of 1586-7 to twenty, twenty-two, and even twenty-four florins;
and wheat advanced from one and one-third florin to thirty-two florins
the veertel. Other articles were proportionally increased in
market-value; but it is worthy of remark that mutton was quoted in the
midst of the famine at nine stuyvers (a little more than ninepence
sterling) the pound, and beef at fivepence, while a single cod-fish sold
for twenty-two florins. Thus wheat was worth sixpence sterling the pound
weight (reckoning the veertel of one hundred and twenty pounds at thirty
florins), which was a penny more than the price of a pound of beef; while
an ordinary fish was equal in value to one hundred and six pounds of
beef. No better evidence could be given that the obedient Provinces were
relapsing into barbarism, than that the only agricultural industry then
practised was to allow what flocks and herds were remaining to graze at
will over the ruined farms and gardens, and that their fishermen were
excluded from the sea.

The evil cured itself, however, and, before the expiration of another
year, prices were again at their previous level. The land was
sufficiently cultivated to furnish the necessaries of life for a
diminishing population, and the supply of labour was more than enough,
for the languishing demand. Wheat was again at tenpence the bushel, and
other commodities valued in like proportion, and far below the
market-prices in Holland and England.

On the other, hand, the prosperity of the republic was rapidly
increasing. Notwithstanding the war, which had beer raging for a
terrible quarter of a century without any interruption, population was
increasing, property rapidly advancing in value, labour in active demand.
Famine was impossible to a state which commanded the ocean. No corn grew
in Holland and Zeeland, but their ports were the granary of the world.
The fisheries were a mine of wealth almost equal to the famous Potosi,
with which the commercial world was then ringing. Their commerce with the
Baltic nations was enormous. In one month eight hundred vessels left
their havens for the eastern ports alone. There was also no doubt
whatever--and the circumstance was a source of constant complaint and of
frequent ineffective legislation--that the rebellious Provinces were
driving a most profitable trade with Spain and the Spanish possessions,
in spite of their revolutionary war. The mines of Peru and Mexico were as
fertile for the Hollanders and Zeelanders as for the Spaniards
themselves. The war paid for the war, one hundred large frigates were
constantly cruising along the coasts to protect the fast-growing traffic,
and an army of twenty thousand foot soldiers and two thousand cavalry
were maintained on land. There were more ships and sailors at that moment
in Holland and Zeeland than in the whole kingdom of England.

While the sea-ports were thus rapidly increasing in importance, the towns
in the interior were advancing as steadily. The woollen manufacture, the
tapestry, the embroideries of Gelderland, and Friesland, and Overyssel,
were becoming as famous as had been those of Tournay, Ypres, Brussels,
and Valenciennes. The emigration from the obedient Provinces and from
other countries was very great. It was difficult to obtain lodgings in
the principal cities; new houses, new streets, new towns, were rising
every day. The single Province of Holland furnished regularly, for
war-expenses alone, two millions of florins (two hundred thousand pounds)
a year, besides frequent extraordinary grants for the same purpose, yet
the burthen imposed upon the vigorous young commonwealth seemed only to
make it the more elastic. "The coming generations may see," says a
contemporary historian, "the fortifications erected at that epoch in the
cities, the costly and magnificent havens, the docks, the great extension
of the cities; for truly the war had become a great benediction to the
inhabitants." Such a prosperous commonwealth as this was not a prize to
be lightly thrown away. There is no doubt whatever that a large majority
of the inhabitants, and of the States by whom the people were
represented, ardently and affectionately desired to be annexed to the
English crown. Leicester had become unpopular, but Elizabeth was adored,
and there was nothing unreasonable in the desire entertained by the
Provinces of retaining their ancient constitutions, and of transferring
their allegiance to the English Queen.

But the English Queen could not resolve to take the step. Although the
great tragedy which was swiftly approaching its inevitable catastrophe,
the execution of the Scottish Queen, was to make peace with Philip
impossible--even if it were imaginable before--Elizabeth, during the year
1587, was earnestly bent on peace. This will be made manifest in
subsequent pages, by an examination of the secret correspondence of the
court. Her most sagacious statesmen disapproved her course, opposed it,
and were often overruled, although never convinced; for her imperious
will would have its way.

The States-General loathed the very name of peace with Spain. The people
loathed it. All knew that peace with Spain meant the exchange of a
thriving prosperous commonwealth, with freedom of religion,
constitutional liberty, and self-government, for provincial subjection to
the inquisition and to despotism: To dream of any concession from Philip
on the religious point was ridiculous. There was a mirror ever held up
before their eyes by the obedient Provinces, in which they might see
their own image, should, they too return to obedience. And there was
never a pretence, on the part of any honest adviser of Queen Elizabeth in
the Netherlands, whether Englishman or Hollander, that the idea of
peace-negotiation could be tolerated for a moment by States or people.
Yet the sum of the Queen's policy, for the year 1587, may be summed up in
one word--peace; peace for the Provinces, peace for herself, with their
implacable enemy.

In France, during the same year of expectation, we shall see the long
prologue to the tragic and memorable 1588 slowly enacting; the same
triangular contest between the three Henrys and their partizans still
proceeding. We shall see the misguided and wretched Valois lamenting over
his victories, and rejoicing over his defeats; forced into hollow
alliance with his deadly enemy; arrayed in arms against his only
protector and the true champion of the realm; and struggling vainly in
the toils of his own mother and his own secretary of state, leagued with
his most powerful foes. We shall see 'Mucio,' with one 'hand extended in
mock friendship toward the King, and with the other thrust backward to
grasp the purse of 300,000 crowns held forth to aid his
fellow-conspirator's dark designs against their common victim; and the
Bearnese, ever with lance in rest, victorious over the wrong antagonist,
foiled of the fruits of victory, proclaiming himself the English Queen's
devoted knight, but railing at her parsimony; always in the saddle,
always triumphant, always a beggar, always in love, always cheerful, and
always confident to outwit the Guises and Philip, Parma and the Pope.

And in Spain we shall have occasion to look over the King's shoulder, as
he sits at his study-table, in his most sacred retirement; and we shall
find his policy for the year 1587 summed up in two words--invasion of
England. Sincerely and ardently as Elizabeth meant peace with Philip,
just so sincerely did Philip intend war with England, and the
dethronement and destruction of the Queen. To this great design all
others were now subservient, and it was mainly on account of this
determination that there was sufficient leisure in the republic for the
Leicestrians and the States-General to fight out so thoroughly their
party-contests.

     ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

     Acknowledged head of the Puritan party of England (Leicester)
     Geneva theocracy in the place of the vanished Papacy
     Hankering for peace, when peace had really become impossible
     Hating nothing so much as idleness
     Mirror ever held up before their eyes by the obedient Provinces
     Rigid and intolerant spirit of the reformed religion
     Scorn the very word toleration as an insult
     The word liberty was never musical in Tudor ears




CHAPTER XIII. 1587

   Barneveld's Influence in the Provinces--Unpopularity of Leicester
   intrigues--of his Servants--Gossip of his Secretary--
   Its mischievous Effects--The Quarrel of Norris and Hollock--
   The Earl's Participation in the Affair--His increased Animosity to
   Norris--Seizure of Deventer--Stanley appointed its Governor--York
   and Stanley--Leicester's secret Instructions--Wilkes remonstrates
   with Stanley--Stanley's Insolence and Equivocation--Painful Rumours
   as to him and York--Duplicity of York--Stanley's Banquet at
   Deventer--He surrenders the City to Tassis--Terms of the Bargain--
   Feeble Defence of Stanley's Conduct--Subsequent Fate of Stanley and
   York--Betrayal of Gelder to Parma--These Treasons cast Odium on the
   English--Miserable Plight of the English Troops--Honesty and Energy
   of Wilkes--Indignant Discussion in the Assembly.

The government had not been laid down by Leicester on his departure. It
had been provisionally delegated, as already mentioned to the
state-council. In this body-consisting of eighteen persons--originally
appointed by the Earl, on nomination by the States, several members were
friendly to the governor, and others were violently opposed to him. The
Staten of Holland, by whom the action of the States-General was mainly
controlled, were influenced in their action by Buys and Barneveld. Young
Maurice of Nassau, nineteen years of age, was stadholder of Holland and
Zeeland. A florid complexioned, fair-haired young man, of
sanguine-bilious temperament; reserved, quiet, reflective, singularly
self-possessed; meriting at that time, more than his father had ever
done, the appellation of the taciturn; discreet, sober, studious. "Count
Maurice saith but little, but I cannot tell what he thinketh," wrote
Leicester's eaves-dropper-in-chiefs. Mathematics, fortification, the
science of war--these were his daily pursuits. "The sapling was to become
the tree," and meantime the youth was preparing for the great destiny
which he felt, lay before him. To ponder over the works and the daring
conceptions of Stevinus, to build up and to batter the wooden blocks of
mimic citadels; to arrange in countless combinations, great armies of
pewter soldiers; these were the occupations of his leisure-hours. Yet he
was hardly suspected of bearing within him the germs of the great
military commander. "Small desire hath Count Maurice to follow the wars,"
said one who fancied himself an acute observer at exactly this epoch.
"And whereas it might be supposed that in respect to his birth and place,
he would affect the chief military command in these countries, it is
found by experience had of his humour, that there is no chance of his
entering into competition with the others." A modest young man, who could
bide his time--but who, meanwhile, under the guidance of his elders, was
doing his best, both in field and cabinet, to learn the great lessons of
the age--he had already enjoyed much solid practical instruction, under
such a desperate fighter as Hohenlo, and under so profound a statesman as
Barneveld. For at this epoch Olden-Barneveld was the preceptor, almost
the political patron of Maurice, and Maurice, the official head of the
Holland party, was the declared opponent of the democratic-Calvinist
organization. It is not necessary, at this early moment, to foreshadow
the changes which time was to bring. Meantime it would be seen, perhaps
ere long, whether or no, it would be his humour to follow the wars. As to
his prudent and dignified deportment there was little doubt. "Count
Maurice behaveth himself very discreetly all this while," wrote one, who
did not love him, to Leicester, who loved him less: "He cometh every day
to the council, keeping no company with Count Hollock, nor with any of
them all, and never drinks himself full with any of them, as they do
every day among themselves."

Certainly the most profitable intercourse that Maurice could enjoy with
Hohenlo was upon the battle-field. In winter-quarters, that
hard-fighting, hard-drinking, and most turbulent chieftain, was not the
best Mentor for a youth whose destiny pointed him out as the leader of a
free commonwealth. After the campaigns were over--if they ever could be
over--the Count and other nobles from the same country were too apt to
indulge in those mighty potations, which were rather characteristic of
their nation and the age.

"Since your Excellency's departure," wrote Leicester's secretary, "there
hath been among the Dutch Counts nothing but dancing and drinking, to the
grief of all this people; which foresee that there can come no good of
it. Specially Count Hollock, who hath been drunk almost a fortnight
together."

Leicester had rendered himself unpopular with the States-General, and
with all the leading politicians and generals; yet, at that moment, he
had deeply mortgaged his English estates in order to raise
funds to expend in the Netherland cause. Thirty thousand pounds
sterling--according to his own statement--he was already out of pocket,
and, unless the Queen would advance him the means to redeem his property;
his broad lands were to be brought to the hammer. But it was the Queen,
not the States-General, who owed the money; for the Earl had advanced
these sums as a portion of the royal contingent. Five hundred and sixty
thousand pounds sterling had been the cost of one year's war during the
English governor's administration; and of this sum one hundred and forty
thousand had been paid by England. There was a portion of the sum, over
and above their monthly levies; for which the States had contracted a
debt, and they were extremely desirous to obtain, at that moment, an
additional loan of fifty thousand pounds from Elizabeth; a favour
which--Elizabeth was very firmly determined not to grant. It was this
terror at the expense into which the Netherland war was plunging her,
which made the English sovereign so desirous for peace, and filled the
anxious mind of Walsingham with the most painful forebodings.

Leicester, in spite of his good qualities--such as they were--had not
that most necessary gift for a man in his position, the art of making
friends. No man made so many enemies. He was an excellent hater, and few
men have been more cordially hated in return. He was imperious, insolent,
hot-tempered. He could brook no equal. He had also the fatal defect of
enjoying the flattery, of his inferiors in station. Adroit intriguers
burned incense to him as a god, and employed him as their tool. And now
he had mortally offended Hohenlo, and Buys, and Barneveld, while he hated
Sir John Norris with a most passionate hatred. Wilkes, the English
representative, was already a special object of his aversion. The
unvarnished statements made by the stiff counsellor, of the expense of
the past year's administration, and the various errors committed, had
inspired Leicester with such ferocious resentment, that the friends of
Wilkes trembled for his life.

   ["It is generally bruited here," wrote Henry Smith to his brother-
   in-law Wilkes, "of a most heavy displeasure conceived by my Lord of
   Leicester against you, and it is said to be so great as that he hath
   protested to be revenged of you; and to procure you the more
   enemies, it is said he hath revealed to my Lord Treasurer, and
   Secretary Davison some injurious speeches (which I cannot report)
   you should have used of them to him at your last being with him.
   Furthermore some of the said Lord's secretaries have reported here
   that it were good for you never to return hither, or, if their Lord
   be appointed to go over again, it will be too hot for you to tarry
   there. These things thus coming to the ears of your friends have
   stricken a great fear and grief into the minds of such as love you,
   lest the wonderful force and authority of this man being bent
   against you, should do you hurt, while there is none to answer for
   you." Smith to Wilkes, 26 Jan. 1587. (S. P. Office MS.)]

Cordiality between the governor-general and Count Maurice had become
impossible. As for Willoughby and Sir William Pelham, they were both
friendly to him, but Willoughby was a magnificent cavalry officer, who
detested politics, and cared little for the Netherlands, except as the
best battle-field in Europe, and the old marshal of the camp--the only
man that Leicester ever loved--was growing feeble in health, was broken
down by debt, and hardly possessed, or wished for, any general influence.

Besides Deventer of Utrecht, then, on whom, the Earl chiefly relied
during his, absence, there were none to support him cordially, except two
or three members of the state-council. "Madame de Brederode hath sent
unto you a kind of rose," said his intelligencer, "which you have asked
for, and beseeches you to command anything she has in her garden, or
whatsoever. M. Meetkerke, M. Brederode, and Mr. Dorius, wish your return
with all, their hearts. For the rest I cannot tell, and will not swear.
But Mr. Barneveld is not your very great friend, whereof I can write no
more at this time."

This certainly was a small proportion out of a council of eighteen, when
all the leading politicians of the country were in avowed hostility to
the governor. And thus the Earl was, at this most important crisis, to
depend upon the subtle and dangerous Deventer, and upon two inferior
personages, the "fellow Junius" and a non-descript, whom Hohenlo
characterized as a "long lean Englishman, with a little black beard."
This meagre individual however seems to have been of somewhat doubtful
nationality. He called himself Otheman, claimed to be a Frenchman, had
lived much in England, wrote with great fluency and spirit, both in
French and English, but was said, in reality, to be named Robert Dale.

It was not the best policy for the representative of the English Queen to
trust to such counsellors at a moment when the elements of strife between
Holland and England were actively at work; and when the safety, almost
the existence, of the two commonwealths depended upon their acting
cordially in concert. "Overyssel, Utrecht, Friesland, and Gelderland,
have agreed to renew the offer of sovereignty to her Majesty," said
Leicester. "I shall be able to make a better report of their love and
good inclination than I can of Holland." It was thought very desirable by
the English government that this great demonstration should be made once
more, whatever might be the ultimate decision of her Majesty upon so
momentous a measure. It seemed proper that a solemn embassy should once
more proceed to England in order to confer with Elizabeth; but there was
much delay in regard to the step, and much indignation, in consequence,
on the part of the Earl. The opposition came, of course, from the
Barneveld party. "They are in no great haste to offer the sovereignty,"
said Wilkes. "First some towns of Holland made bones thereat, and now
they say that Zeeland is not resolved."

The nature and the causes of the opposition offered by Barneveld and the
States of Holland have been sufficiently explained. Buys, maddened by his
long and unjustifiable imprisonment, had just been released by the
express desire of Hohenlo; and that unruly chieftain, who guided the
German and Dutch magnates; such as Moeurs and Overstein, and who even
much influenced Maurice and his cousin Count Lewis William, was himself
governed by Barneveld. It would have been far from impossible for
Leicester, even then, to conciliate the whole party. It was highly
desirable that he should do so, for not one of the Provinces where he
boasted his strength was quite secure for England. Count Moeurs, a potent
and wealthy noble, was governor of Utrecht and Gelderland, and he had
already begun to favour the party in Holland which claimed for that
Province a legal jurisdiction over the whole ancient episcopate. Under
these circumstances common prudence would have suggested that as good an
understanding as possible might be kept up with the Dutch and German
counts, and that the breach might not be rendered quite irreparable.

Yet, as if there had not been administrative blunders enough committed in
one year, the unlucky lean Englishman, with the black beard, who was the
Earl's chief representative, contrived--almost before his master's back
was turned--to draw upon himself the wrath of all the fine ladies in
Holland. That this should be the direful spring of unutterable disasters,
social and political, was easy to foretell.

Just before the governor's departure Otheman came to pay his farewell
respects, and receive his last commands. He found Leicester seated at
chess with Sir Francis Drake.

"I do leave you here, my poor Otheman," said the Earl, "but so soon as I
leave you I know very well that nobody will give you a good look."

"Your Excellency was a true prophet," wrote the secretary a few weeks
later, "for, my good Lord, I have been in as great danger of my life as
ever man was. I have been hunted at Delft from house to house, and then
besieged in my lodgings four or five hours, as though I had been the
greatest thief, murderer, and traitor in the land."

And why was the unfortunate Otheman thus hunted to his lair? Because he
had chosen to indulge in 'scandalum magnatum,' and had thereby excited
the frenzy of all the great nobles whom it was most important for the
English party to conciliate.

There had been gossip about the Princess of Chimay and one Calvaert, who
lived in her house, much against the advice of all her best friends. One
day she complained bitterly to Master Otheman of the spiteful ways of the
world.

"I protest," said she, "that I am the unhappiest lady upon earth to have
my name thus called in question."

So said Otheman, in order to comfort her: "Your Highness is aware that
such things are said of all. I am sure I hear every day plenty of
speeches about lords and ladies, queens and princesses. You have little
cause to trouble yourself for such matters, being known to live honestly,
and like a good Christian lady. Your Highness is not the only lady spoken
of."

The Princess listened with attention.

"Think of the stories about the Queen of England and my Lord of
Leicester!" said Otheman, with infinite tact. "No person is exempted from
the tongues of evil, speakers; but virtuous and godly men do put all such
foolish matter under their feet. Then there is the Countess of Hoeurs,
how much evil talk does one hear about her!"

The Princess seemed still more interested and even excited; and the
adroit Otheman having thus, as he imagined, very successfully smoothed
away her anger, went off to have a little more harmless gossip about the
Princess and the Countess, with Madame de Meetkerke, who had sent
Leicester the rose from her garden.

But, no sooner, had he gone, than away went her Highness to Madame de
Moeurs, "a marvellous wise and well-spoken gentlewoman and a grave," and
informed her and the Count, with some trifling exaggeration, that the
vile Englishman, secretary to the odious Leicester, had just been there,
abusing and calumniating the Countess in most lewd and abominable
fashion. He had also, she protested, used "very evil speeches of all the
ladies in the country." For her own part the Princess avowed her
determination to have him instantly murdered. Count Moeurs was quite of
the same mind, and desired nothing better than to be one of his
executioners. Accordingly, the next Sunday, when the babbling secretary
had gone down to Delft to hear the French sermon, a select party,
consisting of Moeurs, Lewis William of Nassau, Count Overstein, and
others, set forth for that city, laid violent hands on the culprit, and
brought him bodily before Princess Chimay. There, being called upon to
explain his innuendos, he fell into much trepidation, and gave the names
of several English captains, whom he supposed to be at that time in
England. "For if I had denied the whole matter," said he, "they would
have given me the lie, and used me according to their evil mind." Upon
this they relented, and released their prisoner, but, the next day they
made another attack upon him, hunted him from house to house, through the
whole city of Delft, and at last drove him to earth in his own lodgings,
where they kept him besieged several hours. Through the intercession of
Wilkes and the authority of the council of state, to which body he
succeeded in conveying information of his dangerous predicament, he was,
in his own language, "miraculously preserved," although remaining still
in daily danger of his life. "I pray God keep me hereafter from the anger
of a woman," he exclaimed, "quia non est ira supra iram mulieris."

He was immediately examined before the council, and succeeded in clearing
and justifying himself to the satisfaction of his friends. His part was
afterwards taken by the councillors, by all the preachers and godly men,
and by the university of Leyden. But it was well understood that the blow
and the affront had been levelled at the English governor and the English
nation.

"All your friends do see," said Otheman, "that this disgrace is not meant
so much to me as to your Excellency; the Dutch Earls having used such
speeches unto me, and against all law, custom, and reason, used such
violence to me, that your Excellency shall wonder to hear of it."

Now the Princess Chimay, besides being of honourable character, was a
sincere and exemplary member of the Calvinist church, and well inclined
to the Leicestrians. She was daughter of Count Meghem, one of the
earliest victims of Philip II., in the long tragedy of Netherland
independence, and widow of Lancelot Berlaymont. Count Moeurs was governor
of Utrecht, and by no means, up to that time, a thorough supporter of the
Holland party; but thenceforward he went off most abruptly from the party
of England, became hand and glove with Hohenlo, accepted the influence of
Barneveld, and did his best to wrest the city of Utrecht from English
authority. Such was the effect of the secretary's harmless gossip.

"I thought Count Moeurs and his wife better friends to your Excellency
than I do see them to be," said Otheman afterwards. "But he doth now
disgrace the English nation many ways in his speeches--saying that they
are no soldiers, that they do no good to this country, and that these
Englishmen that are at Arnheim have an intent to sell and betray the town
to the enemy."

But the disgraceful squabble between Hohenlo and Edward Norris had been
more unlucky for Leicester than any other incident during the year, for
its result was to turn the hatred of both parties against himself. Yet
the Earl of all men, was originally least to blame for the transaction.
It has been seen that Sir Philip Sidney had borne Norris's cartel to
Hohenlo, very soon after the outrage had been committed. The Count had
promised satisfaction, but meantime was desperately wounded in the attack
on Fort Zutphen. Leicester afterwards did his best to keep Edward Norris
employed in distant places, for he was quite aware that Hohenlo, as
lieutenant-general and count of the empire, would consider himself
aggrieved at being called to the field by a simple English captain,
however deeply he might have injured him. The governor accordingly
induced the Queen to recall the young man to England, and invited
him--much as he disliked his whole race--to accompany him on his
departure for that country.

The Captain then consulted with his brother Sir John, regarding the
pending dispute with Hohenlo. His brother advised that the Count should
be summoned to keep his promise, but that Lord Leicester's permission
should previously be requested.

A week before the governor's departure, accordingly, Edward Norris
presented himself one morning in the dining-room, and, finding the Earl
reclining on a window-seat, observed to him that "he desired his
Lordship's favour towards the discharging of his reputation."

"The Count Hollock is now well," he proceeded, "and is fasting and
banqueting in his lodgings, although he does not come abroad."

"And what way will you take?" inquired Leicester, "considering that he
keeps his house."

"'Twill be best, I thought," answered Norris, "to write unto him, to
perform his promise he made me to answer me in the field."

"To whom did he make that promise?" asked the Earl.

"To Sir Philip Sidney," answered the Captain.

"To my nephew Sidney," said Leicester, musingly; "very well; do as you
think best, and I will do for you what I can."

And the governor then added many kind expressions concerning the interest
he felt in the young man's reputation. Passing to other matters, Morris
then spoke of the great charges he had recently been put to by reason of
having exchanged out of the States' service in order to accept a
commission from his Lordship to levy a company of horse. This levy had
cost him and his friends three hundred pounds, for which he had not been
able to "get one groat."

"I beseech your Lordship to stand good for me," said he; "considering the
meanest captain in all the country hath as good entertainment as I."

"I can do but little for you before my departure," said Leicester; "but
at my return I will advise to do more."

After this amicable conversation Morris thanked his Lordship, took his
leave, and straightway wrote his letter to Count Hollock.

That personage, in his answer, expressed astonishment that Norris should
summon him, in his "weakness and indisposition;" but agreed to give him
the desired meeting; with sword and dagger, so soon as he should be
sufficiently recovered. Morris, in reply, acknowledged his courteous
promise, and hoped that he might be speedily restored to health.

The state-council, sitting at the Hague, took up the matter at once
however, and requested immediate information of the Earl. He accordingly
sent for Norris and his brother Sir John, who waited upon him in his
bed-chamber, and were requested to set down in writing the reasons which
had moved them in the matter. This statement was accordingly furnished,
together with a copy of the correspondence. The Earl took the papers, and
promised to allow most honourably of it in the Council.

Such is the exact narrative, word for word, as given by Sir John and
Edward Norris, in a solemn memorial to the Lords of Her Majesty's privy
council, as well as to the state-council of the United Provinces. A very
few days afterwards Leicester departed for England, taking Edward Norris
with him.

Count Hohenlo was furious at the indignity, notwithstanding the polite
language in which he had accepted the challenge. "'T was a matter
punishable with death," he said, "in all kingdoms and countries, for a
simple captain to send such a summons to a man of his station, without
consent of the supreme authority. It was plain," he added, "that the
English governor-general had connived at the affront," for Norris had
been living in his family and dining at his table. Nay, more, Lord
Leicester had made him a knight at Flushing just before their voyage to
England. There seems no good reason to doubt the general veracity of the
brothers Norris, although, for the express purpose of screening
Leicester, Sir John represented at the time to Hohenlo and others that
the Earl had not been privy to the transaction. It is very certain,
however, that so soon as the general indignation of Hohenlo and his
partizans began to be directed against Leicester, he at once denied, in
passionate and abusive language, having had any knowledge whatever of
Norris's intentions. He protested that he learned, for the first time, of
the cartel from information furnished to the council of state.

The quarrel between Hohenlo and Norris was afterwards amicably arranged
by Lord Buckhurst, during his embassy to the States, at the express
desire of the Queen. Hohenlo and Sir John Norris became very good
friends, while the enmity between them and Leicester grew more deadly
every day. The Earl was frantic with rage whenever he spoke of the
transaction, and denounced Sir John Norris as "a fool, liar, and coward"
on all occasions, besides overwhelming his brother, Buckhurst, Wilkes,
and every other person who took their part, with a torrent of abuse; and
it is well known that the Earl was a master of Billingsgate.

"Hollock says that I did procure Edward Norris to send him his cartel,"
observed Leicester on one occasion, "wherein I protest before the Lord, I
was as ignorant as any man in England. His brother John can tell whether
I did not send for him to have committed him for it; but that, in very
truth, upon the perusing of it" (after it had been sent), "it was very
reasonably written, and I did consider also the great wrong offered him
by the Count, and so forbore it. I was so careful for the Count's safety
after the brawl between him and Norris, that I charged Sir John, if any
harm came to the Count's person by any of his or under him, that he
should answer it. Therefore, I take the story to be bred in the bosom of
some much like a thief or villain, whatsoever he were."

And all this was doubtless true so far as regarded the Earl's original
exertions to prevent the consequences of the quarrel, but did not touch
the point of the second correspondence preceded by the conversation in
the dining-room, eight days before the voyage to England. The affair, in
itself of slight importance, would not merit so much comment at this late
day had it not been for its endless consequences. The ferocity with which
the Earl came to regard every prominent German, Hollander, and
Englishman, engaged in the service of the States, sprang very much from
the complications of this vulgar brawl. Norris, Hohenlo, Wilkes,
Buckhurst, were all denounced to the Queen as calumniators, traitors, and
villains; and it may easily be understood how grave and extensive must
have been the effects of such vituperation upon the mind of Elizabeth,
who, until the last day of his life, doubtless entertained for the Earl
the deepest affection of which her nature was susceptible. Hohenlo, with
Count Maurice, were the acknowledged chiefs of the anti-English party,
and the possibility of cordial cooperation between the countries may be
judged of by the entanglement which had thus occurred.

Leicester had always hated Sir John Norris, but he knew that the mother
had still much favour with the Queen, and he was therefore the more
vehement in his denunciations of the son the more difficulty he found in
entirely destroying his character, and the keener jealousy he felt that
any other tongue but his should influence her Majesty. "The story of John
Norris about the cartel is, by the Lord God, most false," he exclaimed;
"I do beseech you not to see me so dealt withal, but that especially her
Majesty may understand these untruths, who perhaps, by the mother's fair
speeches and the son's smooth words, may take some other conceit of my
doings than I deserve."

He was most resolute to stamp the character of falsehood upon both the
brothers, for he was more malignant towards Sir John than towards any man
in the world, not even excepting Wilkes. To the Queen, to the Lords of
the Privy Council, to Walsingham, to Burghley, he poured forth endless
quantities of venom, enough to destroy the characters of a hundred honest
men.

"The declaration of the two Norrises for the cartel is most false, as I
am a Christian," he said to Walsingham. "I have a dozen witnesses, as
good and some better than they, who will testify that they were present
when I misliked the writing of the letter before ever I saw it. And by
the allegiance I owe to her Majesty, I never knew of the letter, nor gave
consent to it, nor heard of it till it was complained of from Count
Hollock. But, as they are false in this, so you will find J. N. as false
in his other answers; so that he would be ashamed, but that his old
conceit hath made him past shame, I fear. His companions in Ireland, as
in these countries, report that Sir John Norris would often say that he
was but an ass and a fool, who, if a lie would serve his turn, would
spare it. I remember I have heard that the Earl of Sussex would say so;
and indeed this gentleman doth imitate him in divers things."

But a very grave disaster to Holland and England was soon the fruit of
the hatred borne by Leicester to Sir John Norris. Immediately after the
battle of Zutphen and the investment of that town by the English and
Netherlanders, great pains were taken to secure the city of Deventer.
This was, after Amsterdam and Antwerp, the most important mercantile
place in all the Provinces. It was a large prosperous commercial and
manufacturing capital, a member of the Hanseatic League, and the great
centre of the internal trade of the Netherlands with the Baltic nations.
There was a strong Catholic party in the town, and the magistracy were
disposed to side with Parma. It was notorious that provisions and
munitions were supplied from thence to the beleaguered Zutphen; and
Leicester despatched Sir William Pelham, accordingly, to bring the
inhabitants to reason. The stout Marshal made short work of it. Taking
Sir William Stanley and the greater part of his regiment with him, he
caused them, day by day, to steal into the town, in small parties of ten
and fifteen. No objection was made to this proceeding on the part of the
city government. Then Stanley himself arrived in the morning, and the
Marshal in the evening, of the 20th of October. Pelham ordered the
magistrates to present themselves forthwith at his lodgings, and told
them, with grim courtesy, that the Earl of Leicester excused himself from
making them a visit, not being able, for grief at the death of Sir Philip
Sidney, to come so soon near the scene of his disaster. His Excellency
had therefore sent him to require the town to receive an English
garrison. "So make up your minds, and delay not," said Pelham; "for I
have many important affairs on my hands, and must send word to his
Excellency at once. To-morrow morning, at eight o'clock, I shall expect
your answer."

Next day, the magistrates were all assembled in the townhouse before six.
Stanley had filled the great square with his troops, but he found that
the burghers-five thousand of whom constituted the municipal militia--had
chained the streets and locked the gates. At seven o'clock Pelham
proceeded, to the town-house, and, followed by his train, made his
appearance before the magisterial board. Then there was a knocking at the
door, and Sir William Stanley entered, having left a strong guard of
soldiers at the entrance to the hall.

"I am come for an answer," said the Lord Marshal; "tell me straight." The
magistrates hesitated, whispered, and presently one of them slipped away.

"There's one of you gone," cried the Marshal. "Fetch him straight back;
or, by the living God, before whom I stand, there is not one of you shall
leave this place with life."

So the burgomasters sent for the culprit, who returned.

"Now, tell me," said Pelham, "why you have, this night, chained your
streets and kept such strong watch while your friends and defenders were
in the town? Do you think we came over here to spend our lives and our
goods, and to leave all we have, to be thus used and thus betrayed by
you? Nay, you shall find us trusty to our friends, but as politic as
yourselves. Now, then; set your hands to this document," he proceeded, as
he gave them a new list of magistrates, all selected from stanch
Protestants.

"Give over your government to the men here nominated, Straight; dally
not!" The burgomasters signed the paper.

"Now," said Pelham, "let one of you go to the watch, discharge the guard,
bid them unarm, and go home to their lodgings."

A magistrate departed on the errand.

"Now fetch me the keys of the gate," said Pelham, "and that straightway,
or, before God, you shall die."

The keys were brought, and handed to the peremptory old Marshal. The old
board of magistrates were then clapped into prison, the new ones
installed, and Deventer was gained for the English and Protestant party.

There could be no doubt that a city so important and thus fortunately
secured was worthy to be well guarded. There could be no doubt either
that it would be well to conciliate the rich and influential Papists in
the place, who, although attached to the ancient religion, were not
necessarily disloyal to the republic; but there could be as little that,
under the circumstances of this sudden municipal revolution, it would be
important to place a garrison of Protestant soldiers there, under the
command of a Protestant officer of known fidelity.

To the astonishment of the whole commonwealth, the Earl appointed Sir
William Stanley to be governor of the town, and stationed in it a
garrison of twelve hundred wild Irishmen.

Sir William was a cadet of one of the noblest English houses. He was the
bravest of the brave. His gallantry at the famous Zutphen fight had
attracted admiration, where nearly all had performed wondrous exploits,
but he was known to be an ardent Papist and a soldier of fortune, who had
fought on various sides, and had even borne arms in the Netherlands under
the ferocious Alva. Was it strange that there should be murmurs at the
appointment of so dangerous a chief to guard a wavering city which had so
recently been secured?

The Irish kernes--and they are described by all contemporaries, English
and Flemish, in the same language--were accounted as the wildest and
fiercest of barbarians. There was something grotesque, yet appalling, in
the pictures painted of these rude, almost naked; brigands, who ate raw
flesh, spoke no intelligible language, and ranged about the country,
burning, slaying, plundering, a terror to the peasantry and a source of
constant embarrassment to the more orderly troops in the service of the
republic. "It seemed," said one who had seen them, "that they belonged
not to Christendom, but to Brazil." Moreover, they were all Papists, and,
however much one might be disposed to censure that great curse of the
age, religious intolerance--which was almost as flagrant in the councils
of Queen Elizabeth as in those of Philip--it was certainly a most fatal
policy to place such a garrison, at that critical juncture, in the
newly-acquired city. Yet Leicester, who had banished Papists from Utrecht
without cause and without trial, now placed most notorious Catholics in
Deventer.

Zutphen, which was still besieged by the English and the patriots, was
much crippled by the loss of the great fort, the capture of which, mainly
through the brilliant valour of Stanley's brother Edward, has already
been related. The possession of Deventer and of this fort gave the
control of the whole north-eastern territory to the patriots; but, as if
it were not enough to place Deventer in the hands of Sir William Stanley,
Leicester thought proper to confide the government of the fort to Roland
York. Not a worse choice could be made in the whole army.

York was an adventurer of the most audacious and dissolute character. He
was a Londoner by birth, one of those "ruing blades" inveighed against by
the governor-general on his first taking command of the forces. A man of
desperate courage, a gambler, a professional duellist, a bravo, famous in
his time among the "common hacksters and swaggerers" as the first to
introduce the custom of foining, or thrusting with the rapier in single
combats--whereas before his day it had been customary among the English
to fight with sword and shield, and held unmanly to strike below the
girdle--he had perpetually changed sides, in the Netherland wars, with
the shameless disregard to principle which characterized all his actions.
He had been lieutenant to the infamous John Van Imbyze, and had been
concerned with him in the notorious attempt to surrender Dendermonde and
Ghent to the enemy, which had cost that traitor his head. York had been
thrown into prison at Brussels, but there had been some delay about his
execution, and the conquest of the city by Parma saved him from the
gibbet. He had then taken service under the Spanish commander-in-chief,
and had distinguished himself, as usual, by deeds of extraordinary
valour, having sprung on board the burning volcano-ship at the siege of
Antwerp. Subsequently returning to England, he had, on Leicester's
appointment, obtained the command of a company in the English contingent,
and had been conspicuous on the field of Warnsveld; for the courage which
he always displayed under any standard was only equalled by the audacity
with which he was ever ready to desert from it. Did it seem credible that
the fort of Zutphen should be placed in the hands of Roland York?

Remonstrances were made by the States-General at once. With regard to
Stanley, Leicester maintained that he was, in his opinion, the fittest
man to take charge of the whole English army, during his absence in
England. In answer to a petition made by the States against the
appointment of York, "in respect to his perfidious dealings before," the
Earl replied that he would answer for his fidelity as for his own
brother; adding peremptorily--"Do you trust me? Then trust York."

But, besides his other qualifications for high command, Stanley possessed
an inestimable one in Leicester's eyes. He was, or at least had been, an
enemy of Sir John Norris. To be this made a Papist pardonable. It was
even better than to be a Puritan.

But the Earl did more than to appoint the traitor York and the Papist
Stanley to these important posts. On the very day of his departure, and
immediately after his final quarrel with Sir John about the Hohenlo
cartel, which had renewed all the ancient venom, he signed a secret
paper, by which he especially forbade the council of state to interfere
with or set aside any appointments to the government of towns or forts,
or to revoke any military or naval commissions, without his consent.

Now supreme executive authority had been delegated to the state-council
by the Governor-General during his absence. Command in chief over all the
English forces, whether in the Queen's pay or the State's pay, had been
conferred upon Norris, while command over the Dutch and German troops
belonged to Hohenlo; but, by virtue of the Earl's secret paper, Stanley
and York were now made independent of all authority. The evil
consequences natural to such a step were not slow in displaying
themselves.

Stanley at once manifested great insolence towards Norris. That
distinguished general was placed in a most painful position. A post of
immense responsibility was confided to him. The honour of England's Queen
and of England's soldiers was entrusted to his keeping; at a moment full
of danger, and in a country where every hour might bring forth some
terrible change; yet he knew himself the mark at which the most powerful
man in England was directing all his malice, and that the Queen, who was
wax in her great favourite's hands, was even then receiving the most
fatal impressions as to his character and conduct. "Well I know," said he
to Burghley, "that the root of the former malice borne me is not
withered, but that I must look for like fruits therefrom as before;" and
he implored the Lord-Treasurer, that when his honour and reputation
should be called in question, he might be allowed to return to England
and clear himself. "For myself," said he, "I have not yet received any
commission, although I have attended his Lordship of Leicester to his
ship. It is promised to be sent me, and in the meantime I understand that
my Lord hath granted separate commissions to Sir William Stanley and
Roland York, exempting them from obeying of me. If this be true, 'tis
only done to nourish factions, and to interrupt any better course in our
doings than before hath been." He earnestly requested to be furnished
with a commission directly from her Majesty. "The enemy is reinforcing,"
he added. "We are very weak, our troops are unpaid these three months,
and we are grown odious, to our friends."

Honest Councillor Wilkes, who did his best to conciliate all parties, and
to do his duty to England and Holland, to Leicester and to Norris, had
the strongest sympathy with Sir John. "Truly, besides the value, wisdom,
and many other good parts that are in him," he said, "I have noted
wonderful patience and modesty in the man, in bearing many apparent
injuries done unto him, which I have known to be countenanced and
nourished, contrary to all reason, to disgrace him. Please therefore
continue your honourable opinion of him in his absence, whatsoever may be
maliciously reported to his disadvantage, for I dare avouch, of my own
poor skill, that her Majesty hath not a second subject of his place and
quality able to serve in those countries as he . . . . I doubt not God
will move her Majesty, in despite of the devil, to respect him as he
deserves."

Sir John disclaimed any personal jealousy in regard to Stanley's
appointment, but, within a week or two of the Earl's departure, he
already felt strong anxiety as to its probable results. "If it prove no
hindrance to the service," he said, "it shall nothing trouble me. I
desire that my doings may show what I am; neither will I seek, by
indirect means to calumniate him or any other, but will let them show
themselves."

Early in December he informed the Lord-Treasurer that Stanley's own men
were boasting that their master acknowledged no superior authority to his
own, and that he had said as much himself to the magistracy of Deventer.
The burghers had already complained, through the constituted guardians of
their liberties, of his insolence and rapacity, and of the turbulence of
his troops, and had appealed to Sir John; but the colonel-general's
remonstrances had been received by Sir William with contumely and abuse,
and by daunt that he had even a greater commission than any he had yet
shown.

"Three sheep, an ox, and a whole hog," were required weekly of the
peasants for his table, in a time of great scarcity, and it was
impossible to satisfy the rapacious appetites of the Irish kernes. The
paymaster-general of the English forces was daily appealed to by Stanley
for funds--an application which was certainly not unreasonable, as her
Majesty's troops had not received any payment for three months--but there
"was not a denier in the treasury," and he was therefore implored to
wait. At last the States-General sent him a month's pay for himself and
all his troops, although, as he was in the Queen's service, no claim
could justly be made upon them.

Wilkes, also, as English member of the state council, faithfully conveyed
to the governor-general in England the complaints which came up to all
the authorities of the republic, against Sir William Stanley's conduct in
Deventer. He had seized the keys of the gates, he kept possession of the
towers and fortifications, he had meddled with the civil government, he
had infringed all their privileges. Yet this was the board of
magistrates, expressly set up by Leicester, with the armed hand, by the
agency of Marshal Pelham and this very Colonel Stanley--a board of
Calvinist magistrates placed but a few weeks before in power to control a
city of Catholic tendencies. And here was a papist commander displaying
Leicester's commission in their faces, and making it a warrant for
dealing with the town as if it were under martial law, and as if he were
an officer of the Duke of Parma. It might easily be judged whether such
conduct were likely to win the hearts of Netherlanders to Leicester and
to England.

"Albeit, for my own part," said Wilkes, "I do hold Sir William Stanley to
be a wise and a discreet gent., yet when I consider that the magistracy
is such as was established by your Lordship, and of the religion, and
well affected to her Majesty, and that I see how heavily the matter is
conceived of here by the States and council, I do fear that all is not
well. The very bruit of this doth begin to draw hatred upon our nation.
Were it not that I doubt some dangerous issue of this matter, and that I
might be justly charged with negligence, if I should not advertise you
beforehand, I would, have forborne to mention this dissension, for the
States are about to write to your Lordship and to her Majesty for
reformation in this matter." He added that he had already written
earnestly to Sir William, "hoping to persuade him to carry a mild hand
over the people."

Thus wrote Councillor Wilkes, as in duty bound, to Lord Leicester, so
early as the 9th December, and the warning voice of Norris had made
itself heard in England quite as soon. Certainly the governor-general,
having, upon his own responsibility; and prompted, it would seem, by
passion more than reason, made this dangerous appointment, was fortunate
in receiving timely and frequent notice of its probable results.

And the conscientious Wilkes wrote most earnestly, as he said he had
done, to the turbulent Stanley.

"Good Sir William," said he, "the magistrates and burgesses of Deventer
complain to this council, that you have by violence wrested from them the
keys of one of their gates, that you assemble your garrison in arms to
terrify them, that you have seized one of their forts, that the Irish
soldiers do commit many extortions and exactions upon the inhabitants,
that you have imprisoned their burgesses, and do many things against
their laws and privileges, so that it is feared the best affected, of the
inhabitants towards her Majesty will forsake the town. Whether any of
these things be true, yourself doth best know, but I do assure you that
the apprehension thereof here doth make us and our government hateful.
For mine own part, I have always known you for a gentleman of value,
wisdom; and judgment, and therefore should hardly believe any such thing.
. . . . I earnestly require you to take heed of consequences, and to be
careful of the honour of her Majesty and the reputation of our nation.
You will consider that the gaining possession of the town grew by them
that are now in office, who being of the religion, and well affected to
his Excellency's government, wrought his entry into the same . . . . I
know that Lord Leicester is sworn to maintain all the inhabitants of the
Provinces in their ancient privileges and customs. I know further that
your commission carreeth no authority to warrant you to intermeddle any
further than with the government of the soldiers and guard of the town.
Well, you may, in your own conceipt, confer some words to authorize you
in some larger sort, but, believe me, Sir, they will not warrant you
sufficiently to deal any further than I have said, for I have perused a
copy of your commission for that purpose. I know the name itself of a
governor of a town is odious to this people, and hath been ever since the
remembrance of the Spanish government, and if we, by any lack of
foresight, should give the like occasion, we should make ourselves as
odious as they are; which God forbid.

"You are to consider that we are not come into these countries for their
defence only, but for the defence of her Majesty and our own native
country, knowing that the preservation of both dependeth altogether upon
the preserving of these. Wherefore I do eftsoons intreat and require you
to forbear to intermeddle any further. If there shall follow any
dangerous effect of your proceedings, after this my friendly advice, I
shall be heartily sorry for your sake, but I shall be able to testify to
her Majesty that I have done my duty in admonishing you."

Thus spake the stiff councillor, earnestly and well, in behalf of
England's honour and the good name of England's Queen.

But the brave soldier, whose feet were fast sliding into the paths of
destruction, replied, in a tone of indignant innocence, more likely to
aggravate than to allay suspicion. "Finding," said Stanley, "that you
already threaten, I have gone so far as to scan the terms of my
commission, which I doubt not to execute, according to his Excellency's
meaning and mine honour. First, I assure you that I have maintained
justice, and that severely; else hardly would the soldiers have been
contented with bread and bare cheese."

He acknowledged possessing himself of the keys of the town, but defended
it on the ground of necessity; and of the character of the people, "who
thrust out the Spaniards and Almaynes, and afterwards never would obey
the Prince and States." "I would be," he said, "the sorriest man that
lives, if by my negligence the place should be lost. Therefore I thought
good to seize the great tower and ports. If I meant evil, I needed no
keys, for here is force enough."

With much effrontery, he then affected to rely for evidence of his
courteous and equitable conduct towards the citizens, upon the very
magistrates who had been petitioning the States-General, the
state-council, and the English Queen, against his violence:

"For my courtesy and humanity," he said, "I refer me unto the magistrates
themselves. But I think they sent rhetoricians, who could, allege of
little grief, and speak pitiful, and truly I find your ears have been as
pitiful in so timorously condemning me. I assure you that her Majesty
hath not a better servant than I nor a more faithful in these parts. This
I will prove with my flesh and blood. Although I know there be divers
flying reports spread by my enemies, which are come to my ears, I doubt
not my virtue and truth will prove them calumniators and men of little.
So, good Mr. Wilkes, I pray you, consider gravely, give ear discreetly,
and advertise into England soundly. For me, I have been and am your
friend, and glad to hear any admonition from one so wise as yourself."

He then alluded ironically to the "good favour and money" with which he
had been so contented of late, that if Mr. Wilkes would discharge him of
his promise to Lord Leicester, he would take his leave with all his
heart. Captain, officers, and soldiers, had been living on half a pound
of cheese a day. For himself, he had received but one hundred and twenty
pounds in five months, and was living at three pounds by the day. "This
my wealth will not long hold out," he observed, "but yet I will never
fail of my promise to his Excellency, whatsoever I endure. It is for her
Majesty's service and for the love I bear to him."

He bitterly complained of the unwillingness of the country-people to
furnish vivers, waggons, and other necessaries, for the fort before
Zutphen. "Had it not been," he said, "for the travail extraordinary of
myself, and patience of my brother, Yorke, that fort would have been in
danger. But, according to his desire and forethought, I furnished that
place with cavalry and infantry; for I know the troops there be
marvellous weak."

In reply, Wilkes stated that the complaints had been made "by no
rhetorician," but by letter from the magistrates themselves (on whom he
relied so confidently) to the state-council. The councillor added, rather
tartly, that since his honest words of defence and of warning, had been
"taken in so scoffing a manner," Sir William might be sure of not being
troubled with any more of his letters.

But, a day or two before thus addressing him, he had already enclosed to
Leicester very important letters addressed by the council of Gelderland
to Count Moeurs, stadholder of the Province, and by him forwarded to the
state-council. For there were now very grave rumours concerning the
fidelity of "that patient and foreseeing brother York," whom Stanley had
been so generously strengthening in Fort Zutphen. The lieutenant of York,
a certain Mr. Zouch, had been seen within the city of Zutphen, in close
conference with Colonel Tassis, Spanish governor of the place. Moreover
there had been a very frequent exchange of courtesies--by which the
horrors of war seemed to be much mitigated--between York on the outside
and Tassis within. The English commander sent baskets of venison, wild
fowl, and other game, which were rare in the market of a besieged town.
The Spanish governor responded with baskets of excellent wine and barrels
of beer. A very pleasant state of feeling, perhaps, to contemplate--as an
advance in civilization over the not very distant days of the Haarlem and
Leyden sieges, when barrels of prisoners' heads, cut off, a dozen or two
at a time, were the social amenities usually exchanged between Spaniards
and Dutchmen--but somewhat suspicious to those who had grown grey in this
horrible warfare.

The Irish kernes too, were allowed to come to mass within the city, and
were received there with as much fraternity by, the Catholic soldiers of
Tassis as the want of any common dialect would allow--a proceeding which
seemed better perhaps for the salvation of their souls, than--for the
advancement of the siege.

The state-council had written concerning these rumours to Roland York,
but the patient man had replied in a manner which Wilkes characterized as
"unfit to have been given to such as were the executors of the Earl of
Leicester's authority." The councillor implored the governor-general
accordingly to send some speedy direction in this matter, as well to
Roland York as to Sir William Stanley; for he explicitly and earnestly
warned him, that those personages would pay no heed to the remonstrances
of the state-council.

Thus again and again was Leicester--on whose head rested, by his own
deliberate act, the whole responsibility--forewarned that some great
mischief was impending. There was time enough even then--for it was but
the 16th December--to place full powers in the hands of the
state-council, of Norris, or of Hohenlo, and secretly and swiftly to
secure the suspected persons, and avert the danger. Leicester did
nothing. How could he acknowledge his error? How could he manifest
confidence in the detested Norris? How appeal to the violent and deeply
incensed Hohenlo?

Three weeks more rolled by, and the much-enduring Roland York was still
in confidential correspondence with Leicester and Walsingham, although
his social intercourse with the Spanish governor of Zutphen continued to
be upon the most liberal and agreeable footing. He was not quite
satisfied with the general, aspect of the Queen's cause in the
Netherlands, and wrote to the Secretary of State in a tone of
despondency, and mild expostulation. Walsingham would have been less
edified by these communications, had he been aware that York, upon first
entering Leicester's service, had immediately opened a correspondence
with the Duke of Parma, and had secretly given him to understand that his
object was to serve the cause of Spain. This was indeed the fact, as the
Duke informed the King, "but then he is such a scatter-brained, reckless
dare-devil," said Parma, "that I hardly expected much of him." Thus the
astute Sir Francis had been outwitted, by the adventurous Roland, who was
perhaps destined also to surpass the anticipations of the Spanish
commander-in-chief.

Meantime York informed his English patrons, on the 7th January, that
matters were not proceeding so smoothly in the political world as he
could wish. He had found "many cross and indirect proceedings," and so,
according to Lord Leicester's desire, he sent him a "discourse" on the
subject, which he begged Sir Francis to "peruse, add to, or take away
from," and then to inclose to the Earl. He hoped he should be forgiven if
the style of the production was not quite satisfactory; for, said he,
"the place where I am doth too much torment my memory, to call every
point to my remembrance."

It must, in truth, have been somewhat a hard task upon his memory, to
keep freshly in mind every detail of the parallel correspondence which he
was carrying on with the Spanish and with the English government. Even a
cool head like Roland's might be forgiven for being occasionally puzzled.
"So if there be anything hard to be understood," he observed to
Walsingham, "advertise me, and I will make it plainer." Nothing could be
more ingenuous. He confessed, however, to being out of pocket. "Please
your honour," said he, "I have taken great pains to make a bad place
something, and it has cost me all the money I had, and here I can receive
nothing but discontentment. I dare not write you all lest you should
think it impossible," he added--and it is quite probable that even
Walsingham would have been astonished, had Roland written all. The game
playing by York and Stanley was not one to which English gentlemen were
much addicted.

"I trust the bearer, Edward Stanley; a discreet, brave gentleman," he
said, "with details." And the remark proves that the gallant youth who
had captured this very Fort Zutphen in, so brilliant a manner was not
privy to the designs of his brother and of York; for the object of the
"discourse" was to deceive the English government.

"I humbly beseech that you will send for me home," concluded Roland, "for
true as I humbled my mind to please her Majesty, your honour, and the
dead, now am I content to humble myself lower to please myself, for now,
since his, Excellency's departure, there is no form of proceeding neither
honourably nor honestly."

Three other weeks passed over, weeks of anxiety and dread throughout the
republic. Suspicion grew darker than ever, not only as to York and
Stanley, but as to all the English commanders, as to the whole English
nation. An Anjou plot, a general massacre, was expected by many, yet
there were no definite grounds for such dark anticipations. In vain had
painstaking, truth-telling Wilkes summoned Stanley to his duty, and
called on Leicester, time after time, to interfere. In vain did Sir John
Norris, Sir John Conway, the members of the state-council, and all others
who should have had authority, do their utmost to avert a catastrophe.
Their hands were all tied by the fatal letter of the 24th November. Most
anxiously did all implore the Earl of Leicester to return. Never was a
more dangerous moment than this for a country to be left to its fate.
Scarcely ever in history was there a more striking exemplification of the
need of a man--of an individual--who should embody the powers and wishes,
and concentrate in one brain and arm, the whole energy, of a
commonwealth. But there was no such man, for the republic had lost its
chief when Orange died. There was much wisdom and patriotism now.
Olden-Barneveld was competent, and so was Buys, to direct the councils of
the republic, and there were few better soldiers than Norris and Hohenlo
to lead her armies against Spain. But the supreme authority had been
confided to Leicester. He had not perhaps proved himself extraordinarily
qualified for his post, but he was the governor-in-chief, and his
departure, without resigning his powers, left the commonwealth headless,
at a moment when singleness of action was vitally important.

At last, very late in January, one Hugh Overing, a haberdasher from
Ludgate Hill, was caught at Rotterdam, on his way to Ireland, with a
bundle of letters from Sir William Stanley, and was sent, as a suspicious
character, to the state-council at the Hague. On the same day, another
Englishman, a small youth, "well-favoured," rejoicing in a "very little
red beard, and in very ragged clothes," unknown by name; but ascertained
to be in the service of Roland York and to have been the bearer of
letters to Brussels, also passed through Rotterdam. By connivance of the
innkeeper, one Joyce, also an Englishman, he succeeded in making his
escape. The information contained in the letters thus intercepted was
important, but it came too late, even if then the state-council could
have acted without giving mortal offence to Elizabeth and to Leicester.

On the evening of 28th January (N. S.), Sir William Stanley entertained
the magistrates of Deventer at a splendid banquet. There was free
conversation at table concerning the idle suspicions which had been rife
in the Provinces as to his good intentions and the censures which had
been cast upon him for the repressive measures which he had thought
necessary to adopt for the security of the city. He took that occasion to
assure his guests that the Queen of England had not a more loyal subject
than himself, nor the Netherlands a more devoted friend. The company
expressed themselves fully restored to confidence in his character and
purposes, and the burgomasters, having exchanged pledges of faith and
friendship with the commandant in flowing goblets, went home comfortably
to bed, highly pleased with their noble entertainer and with themselves.

Very late that same night, Stanley placed three hundred of his wild Irish
in the Noorenberg tower, a large white structure which commanded the
Zutphen gate, and sent bodies of chosen troops to surprise all the
burgher-guards at their respective stations. Strong pickets of cavalry
were also placed in all the principal thoroughfares of the city. At three
o'clock in the following morning he told his officers that he was about
to leave Deventer for a few hours, in order to bring in some
reinforcements for which he had sent, as he had felt much anxiety for
some time past as to the disposition of the burghers. His officers,
honest Englishmen, suspecting no evil and having confidence in their
chief, saw nothing strange in this proceeding, and Sir William rode
deliberately out of Zutphen. After he had been absent an hour or two, the
clatter of hoofs and the tramp of infantry was heard without, and
presently the commandant returned, followed by a thousand musketeers and
three or four hundred troopers. It was still pitch dark; but, dimly
lighted by torches, small detachments of the fresh troops picked their
way through the black narrow streets, while the main body poured at once
upon the Brink, or great square. Here, quietly and swiftly, they were
marshalled into order, the cavalry, pikemen, and musketeers, lining all
sides of the place, and a chosen band--among whom stood Sir William
Stanley, on foot, and an officer of high rank on horseback--occupying the
central space immediately in front of the town-house.

The drums then beat, and proclamation went forth through the city that
all burghers, without any distinction--municipal guards and all--were to
repair forthwith to the city-hall, and deposit their arms. As the
inhabitants arose from their slumbers, and sallied forth into the streets
to inquire the cause of the disturbance, they soon discovered that they
had, in some mysterious manner, been entrapped. Wild Irishmen, with
uncouth garb, threatening gesture, and unintelligible jargon, stood
gibbering at every corner, instead of the comfortable Flemish faces of
the familiar burgher-guard. The chief burgomaster, sleeping heavily after
Sir William's hospitable banquet, aroused himself at last, and sent a
militia-captain to inquire the cause of the unseasonable drum-beat and
monstrous proclamation. Day was breaking as the trusty captain made his
way to the scene of action. The wan light of a cold, drizzly January
morning showed him the wide, stately square--with its leafless lime-trees
and its tall many storied, gable-ended houses rising dim and spectral
through the mist-filled to overflowing with troops, whose uniforms and
banners resembled nothing that he remembered in Dutch and English
regiments. Fires were lighted at various corners, kettles were boiling,
and camp-followers and sutlers were crouching over them, half perished
with cold--for it had been raining dismally all night--while burghers,
with wives and children, startled from their dreams by the sudden
reveillee, stood gaping about, with perplexed faces and despairing
gestures. As he approached the town-house--one of those magnificent,
many-towered, highly-decorated, municipal palaces of the Netherlands--he
found troops all around it; troops guarding the main entrance, troops on
the great external staircase leading to the front balcony, and officers,
in yellow jerkin and black bandoleer, grouped in the balcony itself.

The Flemish captain stood bewildered, when suddenly the familiar form of
Stanley detached itself from the central group and advanced towards him.
Taking him by the hand with much urbanity, Sir William led the
militia-man through two or three ranks of soldiers, and presented him to
the strange officer on horseback.

"Colonel Tassis," said he, "I recommend to you a very particular friend
of mine. Let me bespeak your best offices in his behalf."

"Ah God!" cried the honest burgher, "Tassis! Tassis! Then are we indeed
most miserably betrayed."

Even the Spanish colonel who was of Flemish origin, was affected by the
despair of the Netherlander.

"Let those look to the matter of treachery whom it concerns," said he;
"my business here is to serve the King, my master."

"Render unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's, and unto God the
things which are God's," said Stanley, with piety.

The burgher-captain was then assured that no harm was intended to the
city, but that it now belonged to his most Catholic Majesty of
Spain--Colonel Stanley, to whom its custody had been entrusted, having
freely and deliberately restored it to its lawful owner. He was then bid
to go and fetch the burgomasters and magistrates.

Presently they appeared--a dismal group, weeping and woe-begone--the same
board of strict Calvinists forcibly placed in office but three months
before by Leicester, through the agency of this very Stanley, who had so
summarily ejected their popish predecessors, and who only the night
before had so handsomely feasted themselves. They came forward, the tears
running down their cheeks, crying indeed so piteously that even Stanley
began to weep bitterly himself. "I have not done this," he sobbed, "for
power or pelf. Not the hope of reward, but the love of God hath moved
me."

Presently some of the ex-magistrates made their appearance, and a party
of leading citizens went into a private house with Tassis and Stanley to
hear statements and explanations--as if any satisfactory ones were
possible.

Sir William, still in a melancholy tone, began to make a speech, through
an interpreter, and again to protest that he had not been influenced by
love of lucre. But as he stammered and grew incoherent as he approached
the point, Tassis suddenly interrupted the conference. "Let us look after
our soldiers," said he, "for they have been marching in the foul weather
half the night." So the Spanish troops, who had been, standing patiently
to be rained upon after their long march, until the burghers had all
deposited their arms in the city-hall, were now billeted on the
townspeople. Tassis gave peremptory orders that no injury should be
offered to persons or property on pain of death; and, by way of wholesome
example, hung several Hibernians the same day who had been detected in
plundering the inhabitants.

The citizens were, as usual in such cases, offered the choice between
embracing the Catholic religion or going into exile, a certain interval
being allowed them to wind up their affairs. They were also required to
furnish Stanley and his regiment full pay for the whole period of their
service since coming to the Provinces, and to Tassis three months' wages
for his Spaniards in advance. Stanley offered his troops the privilege of
remaining with him in the service of Spain, or of taking their departure
unmolested. The Irish troops were quite willing to continue under their
old chieftain, particularly as it was intimated to them that there was an
immediate prospect of a brisk campaign in their native island against the
tyrant Elizabeth, under the liberating banners of Philip. And certainly,
in an age where religion constituted country, these fervent Catholics
could scarcely be censured for taking arms against the sovereign who
persecuted their religion and themselves. These honest barbarians had
broken no oath, violated no trust, had never pretended sympathy with
freedom; or affection for their Queen. They had fought fiercely under the
chief who led them into battle--they had robbed and plundered voraciously
as opportunity served, and had been occasionally hanged for their
exploits; but Deventer and Fort Zutphen had not been confided to their
keeping; and it was a pleasant thought to them, that approaching invasion
of Ireland. "I will ruin the whole country from Holland to Friesland,"
said Stanley to Captain Newton, "and then I will play such a game in
Ireland as the Queen has never seen the like all the days of her life."

Newton had already been solicited by Roland York to take service under
Parma, and had indignantly declined. Sir Edmund Carey and his men, four
hundred in all, refused, to a man, to take part in the monstrous treason,
and were allowed to leave the city. This was the case with all the
English officers. Stanley and York were the only gentlemen who on this
occasion sullied the honour of England.

Captain Henchman, who had been taken prisoner in a skirmish a few days
before the surrender of Deventer, was now brought to that city, and
earnestly entreated by Tassis and by Stanley to seize this opportunity of
entering the service of Spain.

"You shall have great advancement and preferment," said Tassis. "His
Catholic Majesty has got ready very many ships for Ireland, and Sir
William Stanley is to be general of the expedition."

"And you shall choose your own preferment," said Stanley, "for I know you
to be a brave man."

"I would rather," replied Henchman, "serve my prince in loyalty as a
beggar, than to be known and reported a rich traitor, with breach of
conscience."

"Continue so," replied Stanley, unabashed; "for this is the very
principle of my own enlargement: for, before, I served the devil, and now
I am serving God."

The offers and the arguments of the Spaniard and the renegade were
powerless with the blunt captain, and notwithstanding "divers other
traitorous alledgements by Sir William for his most vile facts," as
Henchman expressed it, that officer remained in poverty and captivity
until such time as he could be exchanged.

Stanley subsequently attempted in various ways to defend his character.
He had a commission from Leicester, he said, to serve whom he chose--as
if the governor-general had contemplated his serving Philip II. with that
commission; he had a passport to go whither he liked--as if his passport
entitled him to take the city of Deventer along with him; he owed no
allegiance to the States; he was discharged from his promise to the Earl;
he was his own master; he wanted neither money nor preferment; he had
been compelled by his conscience and his duty to God to restore the city
to its lawful master, and so on, and so on.

But whether he owed the States allegiance or not, it is certain that he
had accepted their money to relieve himself and his troops eight days
before his treason. That Leicester had discharged him from his promises
to such an extent as to justify his surrendering a town committed to his
honour for safe keeping, certainly deserved no answer; that his duty to
conscience required him to restore the city argued a somewhat tardy
awakening of that monitor in the breast of the man who three months
before had wrested the place with the armed hand from men suspected of
Catholic inclinations; that his first motive however was not the mere
love of money, was doubtless true. Attachment to his religion, a desire
to atone for his sins against it, the insidious temptings of his evil
spirit, York, who was the chief organizer of the conspiracy, and the
prospect of gratifying a wild and wicked ambition--these were the springs
that moved him. Sums--varying from L30,000 to a pension of 1500 pistolets
a year--were mentioned, as the stipulated price of his treason, by
Norris, Wilkes, Conway, and others; but the Duke of Parma, in narrating
the whole affair in a private letter to the King, explicitly stated that
he had found Stanley "singularly disinterested."

"The colonel was only actuated by religious motives," he said, "asking
for no reward, except that he might serve in his Majesty's army
thenceforth--and this is worthy to be noted."

At the same time it appears from this correspondence, that the Duke,
recommended, and that the King bestowed, a "merced," which Stanley did
not refuse; and it was very well known that to no persons in, the world
was Philip apt to be so generous as to men of high rank, Flemish,
Walloon, or English, who deserted the cause of his rebellious subjects to
serve under his own banners. Yet, strange to relate, almost at the very
moment that Stanley was communicating his fatal act of treason, in order
that he might open a high career for his ambition, a most brilliant
destiny was about to dawn upon him. The Queen had it in contemplation, in
recompense for his distinguished services, and by advice of Leicester, to
bestow great honors and titles upon him, and to appoint him Viceroy of
Ireland--of that very country which he was now proposing, as an enemy to
his sovereign and as the purchased tool of a foreign despot, to invade.

Stanley's subsequent fate was obscure. A price of 3000 florins was put by
the States upon his head and upon that of York. He went to Spain, and
afterwards returned to the Provinces. He was even reported to have
become, through the judgment of God, a lunatic, although the tale wanted
confirmation; and it is certain that at the close of the year he had
mustered his regiment under Farnese, prepared to join the Duke in the
great invasion of England.

Roland York, who was used to such practices, cheerfully consummated his
crime on the same day that witnessed the surrender of Deventer. He rode
up to the gates of that city on the morning of the 29th January, inquired
quietly whether Tassis was master of the place, and then galloped
furiously back the ten miles to his fort. Entering, he called his
soldiers together, bade them tear in pieces the colours of England, and
follow him into the city of Zutphen. Two companies of States' troops
offered resistance, and attempted to hold the place; but they were
overpowered by the English and Irish, assisted by a force of Spaniards,
who, by a concerted movement, made their appearance from the town. He
received a handsome reward, having far surpassed the Duke of Parma's
expectations, when he made his original offer of service. He died very
suddenly, after a great banquet at Deventer, in the course of the sane
year, not having succeeded in making his escape into Spain to live at
ease on his stipend. It was supposed that he was poisoned; but the charge
in those days was a common one, and nobody cared to investigate the
subject. His body was subsequently exhumed when Deventer came into the
hands of the patriots--and with impotent and contemptible malice hanged
upon a gibbet. This was the end of Roland York.

Parma was highly gratified, as may be imagined, at such successful
results. "Thus Fort Zutphen," said he, "about which there have been so
many fisticuffs, and Deventer--which was the real object of the last
campaign, and which has cost the English so much blood and money, and is
the safety of Groningen and of all those Provinces--is now your
Majesty's. Moreover, the effect of this treason must be to sow great
distrust between the English and the rebels, who will henceforth never
know in whom they can confide."

Parma was very right in this conjuncture. Moreover, there was just then a
fearful run against the States. The castle of Wauw, within a league of
Bergen-op-Zoom, which had been entrusted to one Le Marchand, a Frenchman
in the service of the republic, was delivered by him to Parma for 16,000
florins. "'Tis a very important post," said the Duke, "and the money was
well laid out."

The loss of the city of Gelder, capital of the Province of the same name,
took place in the summer. This town belonged to the jurisdiction of
Martin Schenk, and was, his chief place of deposit for the large and
miscellaneous property acquired by him during his desultory, but most
profitable, freebooting career. The Famous partisan was then absent,
engaged in a lucrative job in the way of his profession. He had made a
contract--in a very-business-like way--with the States, to defend the
city of Rheinberg and all the country, round against the Duke of Parma,
pledging himself to keep on foot for that purpose an army of 3300 foot
and 700 horse. For this extensive and important operation, he was to
receive 20,000 florins a month from the general exchequer; and in
addition he was to be allowed the brandschatz--the black-mail, that is to
say--of the whole country-side, and the taxation upon all vessels going
up and down the river before Rheinberg; an ad valorem duty, in short,
upon all river-merchandise, assessed and collected in summary fashion. A
tariff thus enforced was not likely to be a mild one; and although the
States considered that they had got a "good penny-worth" by the job, it
was no easy thing to get the better, in a bargain, of the vigilant
Martin, who was as thrifty a speculator as he was a desperate fighter. A
more accomplished highwayman, artistically and enthusiastically devoted
to his pursuit, never lived. Nobody did his work more thoroughly--nobody
got himself better paid for his work--and Thomas Wilkes, that excellent
man of business, thought the States not likely to make much by their
contract. Nevertheless, it was a comfort to know that the work would not
be neglected.

Schenk was accordingly absent, jobbing the Rheinberg siege, and in his
place one Aristotle Patton, a Scotch colonel in the States' service, was
commandant of Gelders. Now the thrifty Scot had an eye to business, too,
and was no more troubled with qualms of conscience than Rowland York
himself. Moreover, he knew himself to be in great danger of losing his
place, for Leicester was no friend to him, and intended to supersede him.
Patton had also a decided grudge against Schenk, for that truculent
personage had recently administered to him a drubbing, which no doubt he
had richly deserved. Accordingly, when; the Duke of Parma made a secret
offer to him of 36,000 florins if he would quietly surrender the city
entrusted to him, the colonel jumped at so excellent an opportunity of
circumventing Leicester, feeding his grudge against Martin, and making a
handsome fortune for himself. He knew his trade too well, however, to
accept the offer too eagerly, and bargained awhile for better terms, and
to such good purpose, that it was agreed he should have not only the
36,000 florins, but all the horses, arms, plate, furniture, and other
moveables in the city belonging to Schenk, that he could lay his hands
upon. Here were revenge and solid damages for the unforgotten assault and
battery--for Schenk's property alone made no inconsiderable fortune--and
accordingly the city, towards Midsummer, was surrendered to the Seigneur
d'Haultepenne. Moreover, the excellent Patton had another and a loftier
motive. He was in love. He had also a rival. The lady of his thoughts was
the widow of Pontus de Noyelle, Seigneur de Bours, who had once saved the
citadel of Antwerp, and afterwards sold that city and himself. His rival
was no other than the great Seigneur de Champagny, brother of Cardinal
Granvelle, eminent as soldier, diplomatist, and financier, but now
growing old, not in affluent circumstances, and much troubled with the
gout. Madame de Bours had, however, accepted his hand, and had fixed the
day for the wedding, when the Scotchman, thus suddenly enriched, renewed
a previously unsuccessful suit. The widow then, partially keeping her
promise, actually celebrated her nuptials on the appointed evening; but,
to the surprise of the Provinces, she became not the 'haulte et puissante
dame de Champagny,' but Mrs. Aristotle Patton.

For this last treason neither Leicester nor the English were responsible.
Patton was not only a Scot, but a follower of Hohenlo, as Leicester
loudly protested. Le Merchant was a Frenchman. But Deventer and Zutphen
were places of vital importance, and Stanley an Englishman of highest
consideration, one who had been deemed worthy of the command in chief in
Leicester's absence. Moreover, a cornet in the service of the Earl's
nephew, Sir Robert Sidney, had been seen at Zutphen in conference with
Tassis; and the horrible suspicion went abroad that even the illustrious
name of Sidney was to be polluted also. This fear was fortunately false,
although the cornet was unquestionably a traitor, with whom the enemy had
been tampering; but the mere thought that Sir Robert Sidney could betray
the trust reposed in him was almost enough to make the still unburied
corpse of his brother arise from the dead.

Parma was right when he said that all confidence of the Netherlanders in
the Englishmen would now be gone, and that the Provinces would begin to
doubt their best friends. No fresh treasons followed, but they were
expected every day. An organized plot to betray the country was believed
in, and a howl of execration swept through the land. The noble deeds of
Sidney and Willoughby, and Norris and Pelham, and Roger Williams, the
honest and valuable services of Wilkes, the generosity and courage of
Leicester, were for a season forgotten. The English were denounced in
every city and village of the Netherlands as traitors and miscreants.
Respectable English merchants went from hostelry to hostelry, and from
town to town, and were refused a lodging for love or money. The nation
was put under ban. A most melancholy change from the beginning of the
year, when the very men who were now loudest in denunciation and fiercest
in hate, had been the warmest friends of Elizabeth, of England, and of
Leicester.

At Hohenlo's table the opinion was loudly expressed, even in the presence
of Sir Roger Williams, that it was highly improbable, if a man like
Stanley, of such high rank in the kingdom of England, of such great
connections and large means, could commit such a treason, that he could
do so without the knowledge and consent of her Majesty.

Barneveld, in council of state, declared that Leicester, by his
restrictive letter of 24th November, had intended to carry the authority
over the republic into England, in order to dispose of everything at his
pleasure, in conjunction with the English cabinet-council, and that the
country had never been so cheated by the French as it had now been by the
English, and that their government had become insupportable.

Councillor Carl Roorda maintained at the table of Elector Truchsess that
the country had fallen 'de tyrannide in tyrrannidem;' and--if they had
spurned the oppression of the Spaniards and the French--that it was now
time to, rebel against the English. Barneveld and Buys loudly declared
that the Provinces were able to protect themselves without foreign
assistance, and that it was very injurious to impress a contrary opinion
upon the public mind.

The whole college of the States-General came before the state-council,
and demanded the name of the man to whom the Earl's restrictive letter
had been delivered--that document by which the governor had dared
surreptitiously to annul the authority which publicly he had delegated to
that body, and thus to deprive it of the power of preventing anticipated
crimes. After much colloquy the name of Brackel was given, and, had not
the culprit fortunately been absent, his life might have, been in danger,
for rarely had grave statesmen been so thoroughly infuriated.

No language can exaggerate the consequences of this wretched treason.
Unfortunately, too; the abject condition to which the English troops had
been reduced by the niggardliness of their sovereign was an additional
cause of danger. Leicester was gone, and since her favourite was no
longer in the Netherlands, the Queen seemed to forget that there was a
single Englishman upon that fatal soil. In five months not one penny had
been sent to her troops. While the Earl had been there one hundred and
forty thousand pounds had been sent in seven or eight months. After his
departure not five thousand pounds were sent in one half year.

The English soldiers, who had fought so well in every Flemish
battle-field of freedom, had become--such as were left of them--mere
famishing half naked vagabonds and marauders. Brave soldiers had been
changed by their sovereign into brigands, and now the universal odium
which suddenly attached itself to the English name converted them into
outcasts. Forlorn and crippled creatures swarmed about the Provinces, but
were forbidden to come through the towns, and so wandered about, robbing
hen-roosts and pillaging the peasantry. Many deserted to the enemy. Many
begged their way to England, and even to the very gates of the palace,
and exhibited their wounds and their misery before the eyes of that good
Queen Bess who claimed to be the mother of her subjects,--and begged for
bread in vain.

The English cavalry, dwindled now to a body of five hundred, starving and
mutinous, made a foray into Holland, rather as highwaymen than soldiers.
Count Maurice commanded their instant departure, and Hohenlo swore that
if the order were not instantly obeyed, he would put himself at the head
of his troops and cut every man of them to pieces. A most painful and
humiliating condition for brave men who had been fighting the battles of
their Queen and of the republic, to behold themselves--through the
parsimony of the one and the infuriated sentiment of the other--compelled
to starve, to rob, or to be massacred by those whom they had left their
homes to defend.

At last, honest Wilkes, ever watchful of his duty, succeeded in borrowing
eight hundred pounds sterling for two months, by "pawning his own
carcase" as he expressed himself. This gave the troopers about thirty
shillings a man, with which relief they became, for a time, contented and
well disposed.

Is this picture exaggerated? Is it drawn by pencils hostile to the
English nation or the English Queen? It is her own generals and
confidential counsellors who have told a story in all its painful
details, which has hardly found a place in other chronicles. The
parsimony of the great Queen must ever remain a blemish on her character,
and it was never more painfully exhibited than towards her brave soldiers
in Flanders in the year 1587. Thomas Wilkes, a man of truth, and a man of
accounts, had informed Elizabeth that the expenses of one year's war,
since Leicester had been governor-general, had amounted to exactly five
hundred and seventy-nine thousand three hundred and sixty pounds and
nineteen shillings, of which sum one hundred and forty-six thousand three
hundred and eighty-six pounds and eleven shillings had been spent by her
Majesty, and the balance had been paid, or was partly owing by the
States. These were not agreeable figures, but the figures of honest
accountants rarely flatter, and Wilkes was not one of those financiers
who have the wish or the gift to make things pleasant. He had transmitted
the accounts just as they had been delivered, certified by the treasurers
of the States and by the English paymasters, and the Queen was appalled
at the sum-totals. She could never proceed with such a war as that, she
said, and she declined a loan of sixty thousand pounds which the States
requested, besides stoutly refusing to advance her darling Robin a penny
to pay off the mortgages upon two-thirds of his estates, on which the
equity of redemption was fast expiring, or to give him the slightest help
in furnishing him forth anew for the wars.

Yet not one of her statesmen doubted that these Netherland battles were
English battles, almost as much as if the fighting-ground had been the
Isle of Wight or the coast of Kent, the charts of which the statesmen and
generals of Spain were daily conning.

Wilkes, too, while defending Leicester stoutly behind his back, doing his
best, to explain his short-comings, lauding his courage and generosity,
and advocating his beloved theory of popular sovereignty with much
ingenuity and eloquence, had told him the truth to his face. Although
assuring him that if he came back soon, he might rule the States "as a
schoolmaster doth his boys," he did not fail to set before him the
disastrous effects of his sudden departure and of his protracted absence;
he had painted in darkest colours the results of the Deventer treason, he
had unveiled the cabals against his authority, he had repeatedly and
vehemently implored his return; he had, informed the Queen, that
notwithstanding some errors of, administration, he was much the fittest
man to represent her in the Netherlands, and, that he could accomplish,
by reason of his experience, more in three months than any other man
could do in a year. He bad done his best to reconcile the feuds which
existed between him and important personages in the Netherlands, he had
been the author of the complimentary letters sent to him in the name of
the States-General--to the great satisfaction of the Queen--but he had
not given up his friendship with Sir John Norris, because he said "the
virtues of the man made him as worthy of love as any one living, and
because the more he knew him, the more he had cause to affect and to
admire him."

This was the unpardonable offence, and for this, and for having told the
truth about the accounts, Leicester denounced Wilkes to the Queen as a
traitor and a hypocrite, and threatened repeatedly to take his life. He
had even the meanness to prejudice Burghley against him--by insinuating
to the Lord-Treasurer that he too had been maligned by Wilkes--and thus
most effectually damaged the character of the plain-spoken councillor
with the Queen and many of her advisers; notwithstanding that he
plaintively besought her to "allow him to reiterate his sorry song, as
doth the cuckoo, that she would please not condemn her poor servant
unheard."

Immediate action was taken on the Deventer treason, and on the general
relations between the States-General and the English government.
Barneveld immediately drew up a severe letter to the Earl of Leicester.
On the 2nd February Wilkes came by chance into the assembly of the
States-General, with the rest of the councillors, and found Barneveld
just demanding the public reading of that document. The letter was read.
Wilkes then rose and made a few remarks.

"The letter seems rather sharp upon his Excellency," he observed. "There
is not a word in it," answered Barneveld curtly, "that is not perfectly
true;" and with this he cut the matter short, and made a long speech upon
other matters which were then before the assembly.

Wilkes, very anxious as to the effect of the letter, both upon public
feeling in England and upon his own position as English councillor,
waited immediately upon Count Maurice, President van der Myle, and upon
Villiers the clergyman, and implored their interposition to prevent the
transmission of the epistle. They promised to make an effort to delay its
despatch or to mitigate its tone. A fortnight afterwards, however, Wilkes
learned with dismay, that the document (the leading passages of which
will be given hereafter) had been sent to its destination.

Meantime, a consultation of civilians and of the family council of Count
Maurice was held, and it was determined that the Count should assume the
title of Prince more formally than he had hitherto done, in order that
the actual head of the Nassaus might be superior in rank to Leicester or
to any man who could be sent from England. Maurice was also appointed by
the States, provisionally, governor-general, with Hohenlo for his
lieutenant-general. That formidable personage, now fully restored to
health, made himself very busy in securing towns and garrisons for the
party of Holland, and in cashiering all functionaries suspected of
English tendencies. Especially he became most intimate with Count Moeurs,
stadholder of Utrecht--the hatred of which individual and his wife
towards Leicester and the English nation; springing originally from the
unfortunate babble of Otheman, had grown more intense than
ever,--"banquetting and feasting" with him all day long, and concocting a
scheme; by which, for certain considerations, the province of Utrecht was
to be annexed to Holland under the perpetual stadholderate of Prince
Maurice.

     ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

     Defect of enjoying the flattery, of his inferiors in station
     The sapling was to become the tree




CHAPTER XIV. 1587

   Leicester in England--Trial of the Queen of Scots--Fearful
   Perplexity at the English Court--Infatuation and Obstinacy of the
   Queen--Netherland Envoys in England--Queen's bitter Invective
   against them--Amazement of the Envoys--They consult with her chief
   Councillors--Remarks of Burghley and Davison--Fourth of February
   Letter from the States--Its severe Language towards Leicester--
   Painful Position of the Envoys at Court--Queen's Parsimony towards
   Leicester.

The scene shifts, for a brief interval, to England. Leicester had reached
the court late in November. Those "blessed beams," under whose shade he
was wont to find so much "refreshment and nutrition," had again fallen
with full radiance upon him. "Never since I was born," said he, "did I
receive a more gracious welcome."--[Leicester to 'Wilkes, 4 Dec. 1587.
(S. P. Office MS)]--Alas, there was not so much benignity for the
starving English soldiers, nor for the Provinces, which were fast growing
desperate; but although their cause was so intimately connected with the
"great cause," which then occupied Elizabeth, almost to the exclusion of
other matter, it was, perhaps, not wonderful, although unfortunate, that
for a time the Netherlands should be neglected.

The "daughter of debate" had at last brought herself, it was supposed,
within the letter of the law, and now began those odious scenes of
hypocrisy on the part of Elizabeth, that frightful comedy--more
melancholy even than the solemn tragedy which it preceded and
followed--which must ever remain the darkest passage in the history of
the Queen.

It is unnecessary, in these pages, to make more than a passing allusion
to the condemnation and death of the Queen of Scots. Who doubts her
participation in the Babington conspiracy? Who doubts that she was the
centre of one endless conspiracy by Spain and Rome against the throne and
life of Elizabeth? Who doubts that her long imprisonment in England was a
violation of all law, all justice, all humanity? Who doubts that the
fineing, whipping, torturing, hanging, embowelling of men, women, and
children, guilty of no other crime than adhesion to the Catholic faith,
had assisted the Pope and Philip, and their band of English, Scotch, and
Irish conspirators, to shake Elizabeth's throne and endanger her life?
Who doubts that; had the English sovereign been capable of conceiving the
great thought of religious toleration, her reign would have been more
glorious than, it was, the cause of Protestantism and freedom more
triumphant, the name of Elizabeth Tudor dearer to human hearts? Who
doubts that there were many enlightened and noble spirits among her
Protestant subjects who lifted up their voices, over and over again, in
parliament and out of it, to denounce that wicked persecution exercised
upon their innocent Catholic brethren, which was fast converting loyal
Englishmen, against their will, into traitors and conspirators? Yet who
doubts that it would have required, at exactly that moment, and in the
midst of that crisis; more elevation of soul than could fairly be
predicated of any individual, for Elizabeth in 1587 to pardon Mary, or to
relax in the severity of her legislation towards English Papists?

Yet, although a display of sublime virtue, such as the world has rarely
seen, was not to be expected, it was reasonable to look for honest and
royal dealing, from a great sovereign, brought at last face to face with
a great event. The "great cause" demanded, a great, straightforward blow.
It was obvious, however, that it would be difficult, in the midst of the
tragedy and the comedy, for the Netherland business to come fairly before
her Majesty. "Touching the Low Country causes," said Leicester; "very
little is done yet, by reason of the continued business we have had about
the Queen of Scots' matters. All the speech I have had with her Majesty
hitherto touching those causes hath been but private."--[Leicester to
Wilkes, 4 Des 1586. (S. P. Office MS.)]--Walsingham, longing for
retirement, not only on account of his infinite grief for the death of
Sir Philip Sidney, "which hath been the cause;" he said, "that I have
ever since betaken myself into solitariness, and withdrawn; from public
affairs," but also by reason of the perverseness an difficulty manifested
in the gravest affairs by the sovereign he so faithfully served, sent
information, that, notwithstanding the arrival of some of the States'
deputies, Leicester was persuading her Majesty to proceed first in the
great cause. "Certain principal persons, chosen as committees," he said,
"of both Houses are sent as humble suitors, to her Majesty to desire that
she would be pleased to give order for the execution of the Scottish
Queen. Her Majesty made answer that she was loath to proceed in so
violent a course against the said Queen; as the taking away of her life,
and therefore prayed them to think of some other way which might be for
her own and their safety. They replied, no other way but her execution.
Her Majesty, though she yielded no answer to this their latter reply, is
contented to give order that the proclamation be published, and so also
it is hoped that she, will be moved by this, their earnest instance to
proceed to the thorough ending of the cause."

And so the cause went slowly on to its thorough ending. And when "no
other way" could be thought of but to take Mary's life, and when "no
other way of taking that life could be devised," at Elizabeth's
suggestion, except by public execution, when none of the gentlemen "of
the association," nor Paulet, nor Drury--how skilfully soever their
"pulses had been felt" by Elizabeth's command--would commit assassination
to serve a Queen who was capable of punishing them afterwards for the
murder, the great cause came to its inevitable conclusion, and Mary
Stuart was executed by command of Elizabeth Tudor. The world may continue
to differ as to the necessity of the execution but it has long since
pronounced a unanimous verdict as to the respective display of royal
dignity by the two Queens upon that great occasion.

During this interval the Netherland matter, almost as vital to England as
the execution of Mary, was comparatively neglected. It was not absolutely
in abeyance, but the condition of the Queen's mind coloured every
state-affair with its tragic hues. Elizabeth, harassed, anxious, dreaming
dreams, and enacting a horrible masquerade, was in the worst possible
temper to be approached by the envoys. She was furious with the
Netherlanders for having maltreated her favourite. She was still more
furious because their war was costing so much money. Her disposition
became so uncertain, her temper so ungovernable, as to drive her
counsellors to their wit's ends. Burghley confessed himself "weary of his
miserable life," and protested "that the only desire he had in the world
was to be delivered from the ungrateful burthen of service, which her
Majesty laid upon him so very heavily." Walsingham wished himself "well
established in Basle." The Queen set them all together by the ears. She
wrangled spitefully over the sum-totals from the Netherlands; she worried
Leicester, she scolded Burghley for defending Leicester, and Leicester
abused Burghley for taking part against him.

The Lord-Treasurer, overcome with "grief which pierced both his body and
his heart," battled his way--as best he could--through the throng of
dangers which beset the path of England in that great crisis. It was most
obvious to every statesman in the realm that this was not the time--when
the gauntlet had been thrown full in the face of Philip and Sixtus and
all Catholicism, by the condemnation of Mary--to leave the Netherland
cause "at random," and these outer bulwarks of her own kingdom
insufficiently protected.

"Your Majesty will hear," wrote Parma to Philip, "of the disastrous,
lamentable, and pitiful end of the poor Queen of Scots. Although for her
it will be immortal glory, and she will be placed among the number of the
many martyrs whose blood has been shed in the kingdom of England, and be
crowned in Heaven with a diadem more precious than the one she wore on
earth, nevertheless one cannot repress one's natural emotions. I believe
firmly that this cruel deed will be the concluding crime of the many
which that Englishwoman has committed, and that our Lord will be pleased
that she shall at last receive the chastisement which she has these many
long years deserved, and which has been reserved till now, for her
greater ruin and confusion."--[Parma to Philip IL, 22 March. 1587. (Arch.
de Simancas, MS.)]--And with this, the Duke proceeded to discuss the all
important and rapidly-preparing invasion of England. Farnese was not the
man to be deceived by the affected reluctance of Elizabeth before Mary's
scaffold, although he was soon to show that he was himself a master in
the science of grimace. For Elizabeth--more than ever disposed to be
friends with Spain and Rome, now that war to the knife was made
inevitable--was wistfully regarding that trap of negotiation, against
which all her best friends were endeavouring to warn her. She was more
ill-natured than ever to the Provinces, she turned her back upon the
Warnese, she affronted Henry III. by affecting to believe in the fable of
his envoy's complicity in the Stafford conspiracy against her life.

"I pray God to open her eyes," said Walsingham, "to see the evident peril
of the course she now holdeth . . . . If it had pleased her to have
followed the advice given her touching the French ambassador, our ships
had been released . . . . but she has taken a very strange course by
writing a very sharp letter unto the French King, which I fear will cause
him to give ear to those of the League, and make himself a party with
them, seeing so little regard had to him here. Your Lordship may see that
our courage doth greatly increase, for that we make no difficulty to fall
out with all the world . . . . I never saw her worse affected to the
poor King of Navarre, and yet doth she seek in no sort to yield
contentment to the French King. If to offend all the world;" repeated the
Secretary bitterly, "be it good cause of government, then can we not do
amiss . . . . I never found her less disposed to take a course of
prevention of the approaching mischiefs toward this realm than at this
present. And to be plain with you, there is none here that hath either
credit or courage to deal effectually with her in any of her great
causes."

Thus distracted by doubts and dangers, at war with her best friends, with
herself, and with all-the world, was Elizabeth during the dark days and
months which, preceded and followed the execution of the Scottish Queen.
If the great fight was at last to be fought triumphantly through, it was
obvious that England was to depend upon Englishmen of all ranks and
classes, upon her prudent and far-seeing statesmen, upon her nobles and
her adventurers, on her Anglo-Saxon and Anglo-Norman blood ever mounting
against, oppression, on Howard and Essex, Drake and Williams, Norris, and
Willoughby, upon high-born magnates, plebeian captains, London merchants,
upon yeomen whose limbs were made in England, and upon Hollanders and
Zeelanders whose fearless mariners were to swarm to the protection of her
coasts, quite as much in that year of anxious expectation as upon the
great Queen herself. Unquestionable as were her mental capacity and her
more than woman's courage, when fairly, brought face, to face with the
danger, it was fortunately not on one man or woman's brain and arm that
England's salvation depended in that crisis of her fate.

As to the Provinces, no one ventured to speak very boldly in their
defence. "When I lay before her the peril," said Walsingham, "she
scorneth at it. The hope of a peace with Spain has put her into a most
dangerous security." Nor would any man now assume responsibility. The
fate of Davison--of the man who had already in so detestable a manner
been made the scape-goat for Leicester's sins in the Netherlands, and who
had now been so barbarously sacrificed by the Queen for faithfully
obeying her orders in regard to the death-warrant, had sickened all
courtiers and counsellors for the time. "The late severe, dealing used by
her Highness towards Mr. Secretary Davison," said Walsingham to Wilkes,
"maketh us very circumspect and careful not to proceed in anything but
wherein we receive direction from herself, and therefore you must not
find it strange if we now be more sparing than heretofore hath been
accustomed."

Such being the portentous state of the political atmosphere, and such the
stormy condition of the royal mind, it may be supposed that the
interviews of the Netherland envoys with her Majesty during this period
were not likely to be genial. Exactly at the most gloomy moment--thirteen
days before the execution of Mary--they came first into Elizabeth's
presence at Greenwich.

The envoys were five in number, all of them experienced and able
statesmen--Zuylen van Nyvelt, Joos de Menyn, Nicasius de Silla, Jacob
Valck, and Vitus van Kammings. The Queen was in the privy
council-chamber, attended by the admiral of England, Lord Thomas Howard,
Lord Hunsdon, great-chamberlain, Sir Christopher Hatton,
vice-chamberlain, Secretary Davison, and many other persons of
distinction.

The letters of credence were duly presented, but it was obvious from the
beginning of the interview that the Queen was ill-disposed toward the
deputies, and had not only been misinformed as to matters of fact, but as
to the state of feeling of the Netherlanders and of the States-General
towards herself.

Menyu, however, who was an orator by profession--being pensionary of
Dort--made, in the name of his colleagues, a brief but pregnant speech,
to which the Queen listened attentively, although, with frequent
indications of anger and impatience. He commenced by observing that the
United Provinces still entertained the hope that her Majesty would
conclude, upon further thoughts, to accept the sovereignty over them,
with reasonable conditions; but the most important passages of his
address were those relating to the cost of the war. "Besides our
stipulated contributions," said the pensionary, "of 200,000 florins the
month, we have furnished 500,000 as an extraordinary grant; making for
the year 2,900,000 florins, and this over and above the particular and
special expenditures of the Provinces, and other sums for military
purposes. We confess, Madam, that the succour of your Majesty is a truly
royal one, and that there have been few princes in history who have given
such assistance to their neighbours unjustly oppressed. It is certain
that by means of that help, joined with the forces of the United
Provinces, the Earl of Leicester has been able to arrest the course of
the Duke of Parma's victories and to counteract his designs.
Nevertheless, it appears, Madam, that these forces have not been
sufficient to drive the enemy out of the country. We are obliged, for
regular garrison work and defence of cities, to keep; up an army of at
least 27,000 foot and 3500 horse. Of this number your Majesty pays 5000
foot and 1000 horse, and we are now commissioned, Madam, humbly to
request an increase of your regular succour during the war to 10,000 foot
and 2000 horse. We also implore the loan of L60,000 sterling, in order to
assist us in maintaining for the coming season a sufficient force in the
field."

Such, in brief, was the oration of pensionary Menyn, delivered in the
French language. He had scarcely concluded, when the Queen--evidently in
a great passion--rose to her feet, and without any hesitation, replied in
a strain of vehement eloquence in the same tongue.

"Now I am not deceived, gentlemen," she said, "and that which I have been
fearing has occurred. Our common adage, which we have in England, is a
very good one. When one fears that an evil is coming, the sooner it
arrives the better. Here is a quarter of a year that I have been
expecting you, and certainly for the great benefit I have conferred on
you, you have exhibited a great ingratitude, and I consider myself very
ill treated by you. 'Tis very strange that you should begin by soliciting
still greater succour without rendering me any satisfaction for your past
actions, which have been so extraordinary, that I swear by the living God
I think it impossible to find peoples or states more ungrateful or
ill-advised than yourselves.

"I have sent you this year fifteen, sixteen, aye seventeen or eighteen
thousand men. You have left them without payment, you have let some of
them die of hunger, driven others to such desperation that they have
deserted to the enemy. Is it not mortifying for the English nation and a
great shame for you that Englishmen should say that they have found more
courtesy from Spaniards than from Netherlanders? Truly, I tell you
frankly that I will never endure such indignities. Rather will I act
according to my will, and you may do exactly, as you think best.

"If I chose, I could do something very good without you, although some
persons are so fond of saying that it was quite necessary for the Queen
of England to do what she does for her own protection. No, no! Disabuse
yourselves of that impression. These are but false persuasions. Believe
boldly that I can play an excellent game without your assistance, and a
better one than I ever did with it! Nevertheless, I do not choose to do
that, nor do I wish you so much harm. But likewise do I not choose that
you should hold such language to me. It is true that I should not wish
the Spaniard so near me if he should be my enemy. But why should I not
live in peace, if we were to be friends to each other? At the
commencement of my reign we lived honourably together, the King of Spain
and I, and he even asked me to, marry him, and, after that, we lived a
long time very peacefully, without any attempt having been made against
my life. If we both choose, we can continue so to do.

"On the other hand, I sent you the Earl of Leicester, as lieutenant of my
forces, and my intention was that he should have exact knowledge of your
finances and contributions. But, on the contrary, he has never known
anything about them, and you have handled them in your own manner and
amongst yourselves. You have given him the title of governor, in order,
under this name, to cast all your evils on his head. That title he
accepted against my will, by doing which he ran the risk of losing his
life, and his estates, and the grace and favour of his Princess, which
was more important to him than all. But he did it in order to maintain
your tottering state. And what authority, I pray you, have you given him?
A shadowy authority, a purely imaginary one. This is but mockery. He is,
at any rate, a gentleman, a man of honour and of counsel. You had no
right to treat him thus. If I had accepted the title which you wished to
give me, by the living God, I would not have suffered you so to treat me.

"But you are so badly advised that when there is a man of worth who
discovers your tricks you wish him ill, and make an outcry against him;
and yet some of you, in order to save your money, and others in the hope
of bribes, have been favouring the Spaniard, and doing very wicked work.
No, believe me that God will punish those who for so great a benefit wish
to return me so much evil. Believe, boldly too, that the King of Spain
will never trust men who have abandoned the party to which they belonged,
and from which they have received so many benefits, and will never
believe a word of what they promise him. Yet, in order to cover up their
filth, they spread the story that the Queen of England is thinking of
treating for peace without their knowledge. No, I would rather be dead
than that any one should have occasion to say that I had not kept my
promise. But princes must listen to both sides, and that can be done
without breach of faith. For they transact business in a certain way, and
with a princely intelligence, such as private persons cannot imitate.

"You are States, to be sure, but private individuals in regard to
princes. Certainly, I would never choose to do anything without your
knowledge, and I would never allow the authority which you have among
yourselves, nor your privileges, nor your statutes, to be infringed. Nor
will I allow you to be perturbed in your consciences. What then would you
more of me? You have issued a proclamation in your country that no one is
to talk of peace. Very well, very good. But permit princes likewise to do
as they shall think best for the security of their state, provided it
does you no injury. Among us princes we are not wont to make such long
orations as you do, but you ought to be content with the few words that
we bestow upon you, and make yourself quiet thereby.

"If I ever do anything for you again, I choose to be treated more
honourably. I shall therefore appoint some personages of my council to
communicate with you. And in the first place I choose to hear and see for
myself what has taken place already, and have satisfaction about that,
before I make any reply to what you have said to me as to greater
assistance. And so I will leave you to-day, without troubling you
further."

With this her Majesty swept from the apartment, leaving the deputies
somewhat astounded at the fierce but adroit manner in which the tables
had for a moment been turned upon them.

It was certainly a most unexpected blow, this charge of the States having
left the English soldiers--whose numbers the Queen had so suddenly
multiplied by three--unpaid and unfed. Those Englishmen who, as
individuals, had entered the States' service, had been--like all the
other troops regularly paid. This distinctly appeared from the statements
of her own counsellors and generals. On the other hand, the Queen's
contingent, now dwindled to about half their original number, had been
notoriously unpaid for nearly six months.

This has already been made sufficiently clear from the private letters of
most responsible persons. That these soldiers were starving, deserting;
and pillaging, was, alas! too true; but the envoys of the States hardly
expected to be censured by her Majesty, because she had neglected to pay
her own troops. It was one of the points concerning which they had been
especially enjoined to complain, that the English cavalry, converted into
highwaymen by want of pay, had been plundering the peasantry, and we have
seen that Thomas Wilkes had "pawned his carcase" to provide for their
temporary relief.

With regard to the insinuation that prominent personages in the country
had been tampered with by the enemy, the envoys were equally astonished
by such an attack. The great Deventer treason had not yet been heard of
in England for it had occurred only a week before this first
interview--but something of the kind was already feared; for the slippery
dealings of York and Stanley with Tassis and Parma, had long been causing
painful anxiety, and had formed the subject of repeated remonstrances on
the part of the 'States' to Leicester and to the Queen. The deputies were
hardly, prepared therefore to defend their own people against dealing
privately with the King of Spain. The only man suspected of such
practices was Leicester's own favourite and financier, Jacques Ringault,
whom the Earl had persisted in employing against the angry remonstrances
of the States, who believed him to be a Spanish spy; and the man was now
in prison, and threatened with capital punishment.

To suppose that Buys or Barneveld, Roorda, Meetkerk, or any other leading
statesman in the Netherlands, was contemplating a private arrangement
with Philip II., was as ludicrous a conception as to imagine Walsingham a
pensioner of the Pope, or Cecil in league with the Duke of Guise. The end
and aim of the States' party was war. In war they not only saw the safety
of the reformed religion, but the only means of maintaining the
commercial prosperity of the commonwealth. The whole correspondence of
the times shows that no politician in the country dreamed of peace,
either by public or secret negotiation. On the other hand--as will be
made still clearer than ever--the Queen was longing for peace, and was
treating for peace at that moment through private agents, quite without
the knowledge of the States, and in spite of her indignant disavowals in
her speech to the envoys.

Yet if Elizabeth could have had the privilege of entering--as we are
about to do--into the private cabinet of that excellent King of Spain,
with whom, she had once been such good friends, who had even sought her
hand in marriage, and with whom she saw no reason whatever why she should
not live at peace, she might have modified her expressions an this
subject. Certainly, if she could have looked through the piles of
papers--as we intend to do--which lay upon that library-table, far beyond
the seas and mountains, she would have perceived some objections to the
scheme of living at peace with that diligent letter-writer.

Perhaps, had she known how the subtle Farnese was about to express
himself concerning the fast-approaching execution of Mary, and the as
inevitably impending destruction of "that Englishwoman" through the
schemes of his master and himself, she would have paid less heed to the
sentiments couched in most exquisite Italian which Alexander was at the
same time whispering in her ear, and would have taken less offence at the
blunt language of the States-General.

Nevertheless, for the present, Elizabeth would give no better answer than
the hot-tempered one which had already somewhat discomfited the deputies.

Two days afterwards, the five envoys had an interview with several
members of her Majesty's council, in the private apartment of the
Lord-Treasurer in Greenwich Palace. Burghley, being indisposed, was lying
upon his bed. Leicester, Admiral Lord Howard, Lord Hunsden, Sir
Christopher Hatton, Lord Buckhurst, and Secretary Davison, were present,
and the Lord-Treasurer proposed that the conversation should be in Latin,
that being the common language most familiar to them all. Then, turning
over the leaves of the report, a copy of which lay on his bed, he asked
the envoys, whether, in case her Majesty had not sent over the assistance
which she had done under the Earl of Leicester, their country would not
have been utterly ruined.

"To all appearance, yes," replied Menyn.

"But," continued Burghley, still running through the pages of the
document, and here and there demanding an explanation of an obscure
passage or two, "you are now proposing to her Majesty to send 10,000 foot
and 2000 horse, and to lend L60,000. This is altogether monstrous and
excessive. Nobody will ever dare even to speak to her Majesty on the
subject. When you first came in 1585, you asked for 12,000 men, but you
were fully authorized to accept 6000. No doubt that is the case now."

"On that occasion," answered Menyn, "our main purpose was to induce her
Majesty to accept the sovereignty, or at least the perpetual protection
of our country. Failing in that we broached the third point, and not
being able to get 12,000 soldiers we compounded for 5000, the agreement
being subject to ratification by our principals. We gave ample security
in shape of the mortgaged cities. But experience has shown us that these
forces and this succour are insufficient. We have therefore been sent to
beg her Majesty to make up the contingent to the amount originally
requested."

"But we are obliged to increase the garrisons in the cautionary towns,"
said one of the English councillors, "as 800 men in a city like Flushing
are very little."

"Pardon me," replied Valck, "the burghers are not enemies but friends to
her Majesty and to the English nation. They are her dutiful subjects like
all the inhabitants of the Netherlands."

"It is quite true," said Burghley, after having made some critical
remarks upon the military system of the Provinces, "and a very common
adage, 'quod tunc tua res agitur, paries cum proximus ardet,' but,
nevertheless, this war principally concerns you. Therefore you are bound
to do your utmost to meet its expenses in your own country, quite as much
as a man who means to build a house is expected to provide the stone and
timber himself. But the States have not done their best. They have not at
the appointed time come forward with their extraordinary contributions
for the last campaign. How many men," he asked, "are required for
garrisons in all the fortresses and cities, and for the field?"

"But," interposed Lord Hunsden, "not half so many men are needed in the
garrisons; for the burghers ought to be able to defend their own cities.
Moreover it is probable that your ordinary contributions might be
continued and doubled and even tripled."

"And on the whole," observed the Lord Admiral, "don't you think that the
putting an army in the field might be dispensed with for this year? Her
Majesty at present must get together and equip a fleet of war vessels
against the King of Spain, which will be an excessively large pennyworth,
besides the assistance which she gives her neighbours."

"Yes, indeed," said Secretary Davison, "it would be difficult to
exaggerate the enormous expense which her Majesty must encounter this
year for defending and liberating her own kingdoms against the King of
Spain. That monarch is making great naval preparations, and is treating
all Englishmen in the most hostile manner. We are on the brink of
declared war with Spain, with the French King, who is arresting all
English persons and property within his kingdom, and with Scotland, all
which countries are understood to have made a league together on account
of the Queen of Scotland, whom it will be absolutely necessary to put to
death in order to preserve the life of her Majesty, and are about to make
war upon England. This matter then will cost us, the current year, at
least eight hundred thousand pounds sterling. Nevertheless her Majesty is
sure to assist you so far as her means allow; and I, for my part, will do
my best to keep her Majesty well disposed to your cause, even as I have
ever done, as you well know."

Thus spoke poor Davison, but a few days before the fatal 8th of February,
little dreaming that the day for his influencing the disposition of her
Majesty would soon be gone, and that he was himself to be crushed for
ever by the blow which was about to destroy the captive Queen. The
political combinations resulting from the tragedy were not to be exactly
as he foretold, but there is little doubt that in him the Netherlands,
and Leicester, and the Queen of England, were to lose an honest,
diligent, and faithful friend.

"Well, gentlemen," said the Lord-Treasurer, after a few more questions
concerning the financial abilities of the States had been asked and
answered, "it is getting late into the evening, and time for you all to
get back to London. Let me request you, as soon as may be, to draw up
some articles in writing, to which we will respond immediately."

Menyn then, in the name of the deputies, expressed thanks for the
urbanity shown them in the conference, and spoke of the deep regret with
which they had perceived, by her Majesty's answer two days before, that
she was so highly offended with them and with the States-General. He
then, notwithstanding Burghley's previous hint as to the lateness of the
hour, took up the Queen's answer, point by point, contradicted all its
statements, appealing frequently to Lord Leicester for confirmation of
what he advanced, and concluded by begging the councillors to defend the
cause of the Netherlands to her Majesty, Burghley requested them to make
an excuse or reply to the Queen in writing, and send it to him to
present. Thus the conference terminated, and the envoys returned to
London. They were fully convinced by the result of, these interviews, as
they told their constituents, that her Majesty, by false statements and
reports of persons either grossly ignorant or not having the good of the
commonwealth before their eyes, had been very incorrectly informed as to
the condition of the Provinces, and of the great efforts made by the
States-General to defend their country against the enemy: It was obvious,
they said, that their measures had been exaggerated in order to deceive
the Queen and her council.

And thus statements and counter-statements, protocols and apostilles,
were glibly exchanged; the heap of diplomatic rubbish was rising higher
and higher, and the councillors and envoys, pleased with their work, were
growing more and more amicable, when the court was suddenly startled by
the news of the Deventer and Zutphen treason. The intelligence was
accompanied by the famous 4th of February letter, which descended, like a
bombshell, in the midst of the decorous council-chamber. Such language
had rarely been addressed to the Earl of Leicester, and; through him; to
the imperious sovereign herself, as the homely truths with which
Barneveld, speaking with the voice of the States-General, now smote the
delinquent governor.

"My Lord," said he, "it is notorious; and needs no illustration whatever,
with what true confidence and unfeigned affection we received your
Excellency in our land; the States-General, the States-Provincial, the
magistrates, and the communities of the chief cities in the United
Provinces, all uniting to do honour to her serene Majesty of England and
to yourself, and to confer upon you the government-general over us. And
although we should willingly have placed some limitations upon the
authority thus bestowed on you; in, order that by such a course your own
honour and the good and constitutional condition of the country might be
alike preserved, yet finding your Excellency not satisfied with those
limitations, we postponed every objection, and conformed ourselves to
your pleasure. Yet; before coming to that decision, we had well
considered that by doing so we might be opening a door to many ambitious,
avaricious, and pernicious persons, both of these countries and from
other nations, who might seize the occasion to advance their own private
profits, to the detriment of the country and the dishonour of your
Excellency.

"And, in truth, such persons have done their work so efficiently as to
inspire you with distrust against the most faithful and capable men in
the Provinces, against the Estates General and Provincial, magistrates,
and private persons, knowing very well that they could never arrive at
their own ends so long as you were guided by the constitutional
authorities of the country. And precisely upon the distrust; thus created
as a foundation, they raised a back-stairs council, by means of which
they were able to further their ambitious, avaricious, and seditious
practices, notwithstanding the good advice and remonstrances of the
council of state, and the States General and Provincial."

He proceeded to handle the subjects of the English rose-noble; put in
circulation by Leicester's finance or back-stairs council at two florins
above its value, to the manifest detriment of the Provinces, to the
detestable embargo which had prevented them from using the means bestowed
upon them by God himself to defend their country, to the squandering and
embezzlement of the large sums contributed by the Province; and entrusted
to the Earl's administration; to the starving condition of the soldiers;
maltreated by government, and thus compelled to prey upon the
inhabitants--so that troops in the States' service had never been so
abused during the whole war, although the States had never before voted
such large contributions nor paid them so promptly--to the placing in
posts of high honour and trust men of notoriously bad character and even
Spanish spies; to the taking away the public authority from those to whom
it legitimately belonged, and conferring it on incompetent and
unqualified persons; to the illegal banishment of respectable citizens,
to the violation of time-honoured laws and privileges, to the shameful
attempts to repudiate the ancient authority of the States, and to usurp a
control over the communities and nobles by them represented, and to the
perpetual efforts to foster dissension, disunion, and rebellion among the
inhabitants. Having thus drawn up a heavy bill of indictment, nominally
against the Earl's illegal counsellors, but in reality against the Earl
himself, he proceeded to deal with the most important matter of all.

"The principal cities and fortresses in the country have been placed in
hands of men suspected by the States on legitimate grounds, men who had
been convicted of treason against these Provinces, and who continued to
be suspected, notwithstanding that your Excellency had pledged your own
honour for their fidelity. Finally, by means of these scoundrels, it was
brought to pass, that the council of state having been invested by your
Excellency with supreme authority during your absence--a secret document,
was brought to light after your departure, by which the most substantial
matters, and those most vital to the defence of the country, were
withdrawn from the disposition of that council. And now, alas, we see the
effects of these practices!

"Sir William Stanley, by you appointed governor of Deventer, and Rowland
York, governor of Fort Zutphen, have refused, by virtue of that secret
document, to acknowledge any authority in this country. And
notwithstanding that since your departure they and their soldiers have
been supported at our expense, and had just received a full month's pay
from the States, they have traitorously and villainously delivered the
city and the fortress to the enemy, with a declaration made by Stanley
that he did the deed to ease his conscience, and to render to the King of
Spain the city which of right was belonging to him. And this is a crime
so dishonourable, scandalous, ruinous, and treasonable, as that, during
this, whole war, we have never seen the like. And we are now, in daily
fear lest the English commanders in Bergen-op-Zoom, Ostend, and other
cities, should commit the same crime. And although we fully suspected the
designs of Stanley and York, yet your Excellency's secret document had
deprived us of the power to act.

"We doubt not that her Majesty and your Excellency will think this
strange language. But we can assure you, that we too think it strange and
grievous that those places should have been confided to such men, against
our repeated remonstrances, and that, moreover, this very Stanley should
have been recommended by your Excellency for general of all the forces.
And although we had many just and grave reasons for opposing your
administration--even as our ancestors were often wont to rise against the
sovereigns of the country--we have, nevertheless, patiently suffered for
a long time, in order not to diminish your authority, which we deemed so
important to our welfare, and in the hope that you would at last be moved
by the perilous condition of the commonwealth, and awake to the artifices
of your advisers.

"But at last-feeling that the existence of the state can no longer be
preserved without proper authority, and that the whole community is full
of emotion and distrust, on account of these great treasons--we, the
States-General, as well as the States-Provincial, have felt constrained
to establish such a government as we deem meet for the emergency. And of
this we think proper to apprize your Excellency."

He then expressed the conviction that all these evil deeds had been
accomplished against the intentions of the Earl and the English
government, and requested his Excellency so to deal with her Majesty that
the contingent of horse and foot hitherto accorded by her "might be
maintained in good order, and in better pay."

Here, then, was substantial choleric phraseology, as good plain speaking
as her Majesty had just been employing, and with quite as sufficient
cause. Here was no pleasant diplomatic fencing, but straightforward
vigorous thrusts. It was no wonder that poor Wilkes should have thought
the letter "too sharp," when he heard it read in the assembly, and that
he should have done his best to prevent it from being despatched. He
would have thought it sharper could he have seen how the pride of her
Majesty and of Leicester was wounded by it to the quick. Her list of
grievances against the States seem to vanish into air. Who had been
tampering with the Spaniards now? Had that "shadowy and imaginary
authority" granted to Leicester not proved substantial enough? Was it the
States-General, the state-council, or was it the "absolute governor"--who
had carried off the supreme control of the commonwealth in his
pocket--that was responsible for the ruin effected by Englishmen who had
scorned all "authority" but his own?

The States, in another blunt letter to the Queen herself, declared the
loss of Deventer to be more disastrous to them than even the fall of
Antwerp had been; for the republic had now been split asunder, and its
most ancient and vital portions almost cut away. Nevertheless they were
not "dazzled nor despairing," they said, but more determined than ever to
maintain their liberties, and bid defiance to the Spanish tyrant. And
again they demanded of, rather than implored; her Majesty to be true to
her engagements with them.

The interviews which followed were more tempestuous than ever. "I had
intended that my Lord of Leicester should return to you," she said to the
envoys. "But that shall never be. He has been treated with gross
ingratitude, he has served the Provinces with ability, he has consumed
his own property there, he has risked his life, he has lost his near
kinsman, Sir Philip Sidney, whose life I should be glad to purchase with
many millions, and, in place of all reward, he receives these venomous
letters, of which a copy has been sent to his sovereign to blacken him
with her." She had been advising him to return, she added, but she was
now resolved that he should "never set foot in the Provinces again."

Here the Earl, who, was present, exclaimed--beating himself on the
breast--"a tali officio libera nos, Domine!"

But the States, undaunted by these explosions of wrath, replied that it
had ever been their custom, when their laws and liberties were invaded,
to speak their mind boldly to kings and governors, and to procure redress
of their grievances, as became free men.

During that whole spring the Queen was at daggers drawn with all her
leading counsellors, mainly in regard to that great question of
questions--the relations of England with the Netherlands and Spain.
Walsingham--who felt it madness to dream of peace, and who believed it
the soundest policy to deal with Parma and his veterans upon the soil of
Flanders, with the forces of the republic for allies, rather than to
await his arrival in London--was driven almost to frenzy by what he
deemed the Queen's perverseness.

"Our sharp words continue," said the Secretary, "which doth greatly
disquiet her Majesty, and discomfort her poor servants that attend her.
The Lord-Treasurer remaineth still in disgrace, and, behind my back, her
Majesty giveth out very hard speeches of myself, which I the rather
credit, for that I find, in dealing with her, I am nothing gracious; and
if her Majesty could be otherwise served, I know I should not be used . .
. . . Her Majesty doth wholly lend herself to devise some further means
to disgrace her poor council, in respect whereof she neglecteth all other
causes . . . . The discord between her Majesty and her council
hindereth the necessary consultations that were to be destined for the
preventing of the manifold perils that hang over this realm. . . .
Sir Christopher Hatton hath dealt very plainly and dutifully with her,
which hath been accepted in so evil part as he is resolved to retire for
a time. I assure you I find every man weary of attendance here. . . .
I would to God I could find as good resolution in her Majesty to
proceed in a princely course in relieving the United Provinces, as I find
an honorable disposition in your Lordship to employ yourself in their
service."

The Lord-Treasurer was much puzzled, very wretched, but philosophically
resigned. "Why her Majesty useth me thus strangely, I know not," he
observed. "To some she saith that she meant not I should have gone from
the court; to some she saith, she may not admit me, nor give me
contentment. I shall dispose myself to enjoy God's favour, and shall do
nothing to deserve her disfavour. And if I be suffered to be a stranger
to her affairs, I shall have a quieter life."

Leicester, after the first burst of his anger was over, was willing to
return to the Provinces. He protested that he had a greater affection for
the Netherland people--not for the governing powers--even than he felt
for the people of England.--"There is nothing sticks in my stomach," he
said, "but the good-will of that poor afflicted people, for whom, I take
God to record, I could be content to lose any limb I have to do them
good." But he was crippled with debt, and the Queen resolutely refused to
lend him a few thousand pounds, without which he could not stir.
Walsingham in vain did battle with her parsimony, representing how
urgently and vividly the necessity of his return had been depicted by all
her ministers in both countries, and how much it imported to her own
safety and service. But she was obdurate. "She would rather," he said
bitterly to Leicester, "hazard the increase of confusion there--which may
put the whole country in peril--than supply your want. The like course
she holdeth in the rest of her causes, which maketh me to wish myself
from the helm." At last she agreed to advance him ten thousand pounds,
but on so severe conditions, that the Earl declared himself heart-broken
again, and protested that he would neither accept the money, nor ever set
foot in the Netherlands. "Let Norris stay there," he said in a fury; "he
will do admirably, no doubt. Only let it not be supposed that I can be
there also. Not for one hundred thousand pounds would I be in that
country with him."

Meantime it was agreed that Lord Buckhurst should be sent forth on what
Wilkes termed a mission of expostulation, and a very ill-timed one. This
new envoy was to inquire into the causes of the discontent, and to do his
best to remove them: as if any man in England or in Holland doubted as to
the causes, or as to the best means of removing them; or as if it were
not absolutely certain that delay was the very worst specific that could
be adopted--delay--which the Netherland statesmen, as well as the Queen's
wisest counsellors, most deprecated, which Alexander and Philip most
desired, and by indulging in which her Majesty was most directly playing
into her adversary's hand. Elizabeth was preparing to put cards upon the
table against an antagonist whose game was close, whose honesty was
always to be suspected, and who was a consummate master in what was then
considered diplomatic sleight of hand. So Lord Buckhurst was to go forth
to expostulate at the Hague, while transports were loading in Cadiz and
Lisbon, reiters levying in Germany, pikemen and musketeers in Spain and
Italy, for a purpose concerning which Walsingham and Barneveld had for a
long time felt little doubt.

Meantime Lord Leicester went to Bath to drink the waters, and after he
had drunk the waters, the Queen, ever anxious for his health, was
resolved that he should not lose the benefit of those salubrious draughts
by travelling too soon, or by plunging anew into the fountains of
bitterness which flowed perennially in the Netherlands.




CHAPTER XV.

   Buckhurst sent to the Netherlands--Alarming State of Affairs on his
   Arrival--His Efforts to conciliate--Democratic Theories of Wilkes--
   Sophistry of the Argument--Dispute between Wilkes and Barneveld--
   Religious Tolerance by the States--Their Constitutional Theory--
   Deventer's bad Counsels to Leicester--Their pernicious Effect--Real
   and supposed Plots against Hohenlo--Mutual Suspicion and Distrust--
   Buckhurst seeks to restore good Feeling--The Queen angry and
   vindictive--She censures Buckhurst's Course--Leicester's wrath at
   Hohenlo's Charges of a Plot by the Earl to murder him--Buckhurst's
   eloquent Appeals to the Queen--Her perplexing and contradictory
   Orders--Despair of Wilkes--Leicester announces his Return--His
   Instructions--Letter to Junius--Barneveld denounces him in the
   States.

We return to the Netherlands. If ever proof were afforded of the
influence of individual character on the destiny of nations and of the
world, it certainly was seen in the year 1587. We have lifted the curtain
of the secret council-chamber at Greenwich. We have seen all Elizabeth's
advisers anxious to arouse her from her fatal credulity, from her almost
as fatal parsimony. We have seen Leicester anxious to return, despite all
fancied indignities, Walsingham eager to expedite the enterprise, and the
Queen remaining obdurate, while month after month of precious time was
melting away.

In the Netherlands, meantime, discord and confusion had been increasing
every day; and the first great cause of such a dangerous condition of
affairs was the absence of the governor. To this all parties agreed. The
Leicestrians, the anti-Leicestriana, the Holland party, the Utrecht
party, the English counsellors, the English generals, in private letter,
in solemn act, all warned the Queen against the lamentable effects
resulting from Leicester's inopportune departure and prolonged absence.

On the first outbreak of indignation after the Deventer Affair, Prince
Maurice was placed at the head of the general government, with the
violent Hohenlo as his lieutenant. The greatest exertions were made by
these two nobles and by Barneveld, who guided the whole policy of the
party, to secure as many cities as possible to their cause. Magistrates
and commandants of garrisons in many towns willingly gave in their
adhesion to the new government; others refused; especially Diedrich
Sonoy, an officer of distinction, who was governor of Enkhuyzen, and
influential throughout North Holland, and who remained a stanch partisan
of Leicester. Utrecht, the stronghold of the Leicestrians, was wavering
and much torn by faction; Hohenlo and Moeurs had "banquetted and feasted"
to such good purpose that they had gained over half the captains of the
burgher-guard, and, aided by the branch of nobles, were making a good
fight against the Leicester magistracy and the clerical force, enriched
by the plunder of the old Catholic livings, who denounced as Papistical
and Hispaniolized all who favoured the party of Maurice and Barneveld.

By the end of March the envoys returned from London, and in their company
came Lord Buckhurst, as special ambassador from the Queen.

Thomas Sackville, Lord Buckhurst--afterwards Earl of Dorset and
lord-treasurer--was then fifty-one years of age. A man of large
culture-poet, dramatist, diplomatist-bred to the bar; afterwards elevated
to the peerage; endowed with high character and strong intellect; ready
with tongue and pen; handsome of person, and with a fascinating address,
he was as fit a person to send on a mission of expostulation as any man
to be found in England. But the author of the 'Induction to the Mirror
for Magistrates' and of 'Gorboduc,' had come to the Netherlands on a
forlorn hope. To expostulate in favour of peace with a people who knew
that their existence depended on war, to reconcile those to delay who
felt that delay was death, and to, heal animosities between men who were
enemies from their cradles to their graves, was a difficult mission. But
the chief ostensible object of Buckhurst was to smooth the way for
Leicester, and, if possible, to persuade the Netherlanders as to the good
inclinations of the English government. This was no easy task, for they
knew that their envoys had been dismissed, without even a promise of
subsidy. They had asked for twelve thousand soldiers and sixty thousand
pounds, and had received a volley of abuse. Over and over again, through
many months, the Queen fell into a paroxysm of rage when even an allusion
was made to the loan of fifty or sixty thousand pounds; and even had she
promised the money, it would have given but little satisfaction. As Count
Moeurs observed, he would rather see one English rose-noble than a
hundred royal promises. So the Hollanders and Zeelanders--not fearing
Leicester's influence within their little morsel of a territory--were
concentrating their means of resistance upon their own soil, intending to
resist Spain, and, if necessary, England, in their last ditch, and with
the last drop of their blood.

While such was the condition of affairs, Lord Buckhurst landed at
Flushing--four months after the departure of Leicester--on the 24th
March, having been tossing three days and nights at sea in a great storm,
"miserably sick and in great danger of drowning." Sir William Russell,
governor of Flushing, informed him of the progress making by Prince
Maurice in virtue of his new authority. He told him that the Zeeland
regiment, vacant by Sidney's death, and which the Queen wished bestowed
upon Russell himself, had been given to Count Solms; a circumstance which
was very sure to exite her Majesty's ire; but that the greater number,
and those of the better sort; disliked the alteration of government, and
relied entirely upon the Queen. Sainte Aldegonde visited him at
Middelburgh, and in a "long discourse" expressed the most friendly
sentiments towards England, with free offers of personal service.
"Nevertheless," said Buckhurst, cautiously, "I mean to trust the effect,
not his words, and so I hope he will not much deceive me. His opinion is
that the Earl of Leicester's absence hath chiefly caused this change, and
that without his return it will hardly be restored again, but that upon
his arrival all these clouds will prove but a summershower."

As a matter of course the new ambassador lifted up his voice, immediately
after setting foot on shore, in favour of the starving soldiers of his
Queen. "'Tis a most lamentable thing," said he, "to hear the complaints
of soldiers and captains for want of pay." . . . . Whole companies made
their way into his presence, literally crying aloud for bread. "For
Jesus' sake," wrote Buckhurst, "hasten to send relief with all speed, and
let such victuallers be appointed as have a conscience not to make
themselves rich with the famine of poor soldiers. If her Majesty send not
money, and that with speed, for their payment, I am afraid to think what
mischief and miseries are like to follow."

Then the ambassador proceeded to the Hague, holding interviews with
influential personages in private, and with the States-General in public.
Such was the charm of his manner, and so firm the conviction of sincerity
and good-will which he inspired, that in the course of a fortnight there
was already a sensible change in the aspect of affairs. The enemy, who,
at the time of their arrival, had been making bonfires and holding
triumphal processions for joy of the great breach between Holland and
England, and had been "hoping to swallow them all up, while there were so
few left who knew how to act," were already manifesting disappointment.

In a solemn meeting of the States-General with the State-council,
Buckhurst addressed the assembly upon the general subject of her
Majesty's goodness to the Netherlands. He spoke of the gracious
assistance rendered by her, notwithstanding her many special charges for
the common cause, and of the mighty enmities which she had incurred for
their sake. He sharply censured the Hollanders for their cruelty to men
who had shed their blood in their cause, but who were now driven forth
from their towns; and left to starve on the highways, and hated for their
nation's sake; as if the whole English name deserved to be soiled "for
the treachery of two miscreants." He spoke strongly of their demeanour
towards the Earl of Leicester, and of the wrongs they had done him, and
told them, that, if they were not ready to atone to her Majesty for such
injuries, they were not to wonder if their deputies received no better
answer at her hands. "She who embraced your cause," he said, "when other
mighty princes forsook you, will still stand fast unto you, yea, and
increase her goodness, if her present state may suffer it."

After being addressed in this manner the council of state made what
Counsellor Clerk called a "very honest, modest, and wise answer;" but the
States-General, not being able "so easily to discharge that which had so
long boiled within them," deferred their reply until the following day.
They then brought forward a deliberate rejoinder, in which they expressed
themselves devoted to her Majesty, and, on the whole, well disposed to
the Earl. As to the 4th February letter, it had been written "in
amaritudine cordis," upon hearing the treasons of York and Stanley, and
in accordance with "their custom and liberty used towards all princes,
whereby they had long preserved their estate," and in the conviction that
the real culprits for all the sins of his Excellency's government were
certain "lewd persons who sought to seduce his Lordship, and to cause him
to hate the States."

Buckhurst did not think it well to reply, at that moment, on the ground
that there had been already crimination and recrimination more than
enough, and that "a little bitterness more had rather caused them to
determine dangerously than solve for the best."

They then held council together--the envoys and the State-General, as to
the amount of troops absolutely necessary--casting up the matter "as
pinchingly as possibly might be." And the result was, that 20,000 foot
and 2000 horse for garrison work, and an army of 13,000 foot, 5000 horse,
and pioneers, for a campaign of five or six months, were pronounced
indispensable. This would require all their L240,000 sterling a-year,
regular contribution, her Majesty's contingent of L140,000, and an extra
sum of L150,000 sterling. Of this sum the States requested her Majesty
should furnish two-thirds, while they agreed to furnish the other third,
which would make in all L240,000 for the Queen, and L290,000 for the
States. As it was understood that the English subsidies were only a loan,
secured by mortgage of the cautionary towns, this did not seem very
unreasonable, when the intimate blending of England's welfare with that
of the Provinces was considered.

Thus it will be observed that Lord Buckhurst--while doing his best to
conciliate personal feuds and heart-burnings--had done full justice to
the merits of Leicester, and had placed in strongest light the favours
conferred by her Majesty.

He then proceeded to Utrecht, where he was received with many
demonstrations of respect, "with solemn speeches" from magistrates and
burgher-captains, with military processions, and with great banquets,
which were, however, conducted with decorum, and at which even Count
Moeurs excited universal astonishment by his sobriety. It was difficult,
however, for matters to go very smoothly, except upon the surface. What
could be more disastrous than for a little commonwealth--a mere handful
of people, like these Netherlanders, engaged in mortal combat with the
most powerful monarch in the world, and with the first general of the
age, within a league of their borders--thus to be deprived of all
organized government at a most critical moment, and to be left to wrangle
with their allies and among themselves, as to the form of polity to be
adopted, while waiting the pleasure of a capricious and despotic woman?

And the very foundation of the authority by which the Spanish yoke had
been abjured, the sovereignty offered to Elizabeth, and the
government-general conferred on Leicester, was fiercely assailed by the
confidential agents of Elizabeth herself. The dispute went into the very
depths of the social contract. Already Wilkes, standing up stoutly for
the democratic views of the governor, who was so foully to requite him,
had assured the English government that the "people were ready to cut the
throats" of the Staten-General at any convenient moment. The sovereign
people, not the deputies, were alone to be heeded, he said, and although
he never informed the world by what process he had learned the deliberate
opinion of that sovereign, as there had been no assembly excepting those
of the States-General and States-Provincial--he was none the less fully
satisfied that the people were all with Leicester, and bitterly opposed
to the States.

"For the sovereignty, or supreme authority," said he, through failure of
a legitimate prince, belongs to the people, and not to you, gentlemen,
who are only servants, ministers, and deputies of the people. You have
your commissions or instructions surrounded by limitations--which
conditions are so widely different from the power of sovereignty, as the
might of the subject is in regard to his prince, or of a servant in,
respect to his master. For sovereignty is not limited either as to power
or as to time. Still less do you represent the sovereignty; for the
people, in giving the general and absolute government to the Earl of
Leicester, have conferred upon him at once the exercise of justice, the
administration of polity, of naval affairs, of war, and of all the other
points of sovereignty. Of these a governor-general is however only the
depositary or guardian, until such time as it may please the prince or
people to revoke the trust; there being no other in this state who can do
this; seeing that it was the people, through the instrumentality of your
offices--through you as its servants--conferred on his Excellency, this
power, authority, and government. According to the common rule law,
therefore, 'quo jure quid statuitur, eodem jure tolli debet.' You having
been fully empowered by the provinces and cities, or, to speak more
correctly, by your masters and superiors, to confer the government on his
Excellency, it follows that you require a like power in order to take it
away either in whole or in part. If then you had no commission to curtail
his authority, or even that of the state-council, and thus to tread upon
and usurp his power as governor general and absolute, there follows of
two things one: either you did not well understand what you were doing,
nor duly consider how far that power reached, or--much more probably--you
have fallen into the sin of disobedience, considering how solemnly you
swore allegiance to him.

Thus subtly and ably did Wilkes defend the authority of the man who had
deserted his post at a most critical moment, and had compelled the
States, by his dereliction, to take the government into their own hands.

For, after all, the whole argument of the English counsellor rested upon
a quibble. The people were absolutely sovereign, he said, and had lent
that sovereignty to Leicester. How had they made that loan? Through the
machinery of the States-General. So long then as the Earl retained the
absolute sovereignty, the States were not even representatives of the
sovereign people. The sovereign people was merged into one English Earl.
The English Earl had retired--indefinitely--to England. Was the sovereign
people to wait for months, or years, before it regained its existence?
And if not, how was it to reassert its vitality? How but through the
agency of the States-General, who--according to Wilkes himself--had been
fully empowered by the Provinces and Cities to confer the government on
the Earl? The people then, after all, were the provinces and cities. And
the States-General were at that moment as much qualified to represent
those provinces and cities as they ever had been, and they claimed no
more. Wilkes, nor any other of the Leicester party, ever hinted at a
general assembly of the people. Universal suffrage was not dreamed of at
that day. By the people, he meant, if he meant anything, only that very
small fraction of the inhabitants of a country, who, according to the
English system, in the reign of Elizabeth, constituted its Commons. He
chose, rather from personal and political motives than philosophical
ones, to draw a distinction between the people and the States, but it is
quite obvious, from the tone of his private communications, that by the
'States' he meant the individuals who happened, for the time-being, to be
the deputies of the States of each Province. But it was almost an
affectation to accuse those individuals of calling or considering
themselves 'sovereigns;' for it was very well known that they sat as
envoys, rather than as members of a congress, and were perpetually
obliged to recur to their constituents, the States of each Province, for
instructions. It was idle, because Buys and Barneveld, and Roorda, and
other leaders, exercised the influence due to their talents, patriotism,
and experience, to stigmatize them as usurpers of sovereignty, and to
hound the rabble upon them as tyrants and mischief-makers. Yet to take
this course pleased the Earl of Leicester, who saw no hope for the
liberty of the people, unless absolute and unconditional authority over
the people, in war, naval affairs, justice, and policy, were placed in
his hands. This was the view sustained by the clergy of the Reformed
Church, because they found it convenient, through such a theory, and by
Leicester's power, to banish Papists, exercise intolerance in matters of
religion, sequestrate for their own private uses the property of the
Catholic Church, and obtain for their own a political power which was
repugnant to the more liberal ideas of the Barneveld party.

The States of Holland--inspired as it were by the memory of that great
martyr to religious and political liberty, William the Silent--maintained
freedom of conscience.

The Leicester party advocated a different theory on the religious
question. They were also determined to omit no effort to make the States
odious.

"Seeing their violent courses," said Wilkes to Leicester, "I have not
been negligent, as well by solicitations to the ministers, as by my
letters to such as have continued constant in affection to your Lordship,
to have the people informed of the ungrateful and dangerous proceedings
of the States. They have therein travailed with so good effect, as the
people are now wonderfully well disposed, and have delivered everywhere
in speeches, that if, by the overthwart dealings of the States, her
Majesty shall be drawn to stay her succours and goodness to them, and
that thereby your Lordship be also discouraged to return, they will cut
their throats."

Who the "people" exactly were, that had been so wonderfully well disposed
to throat-cutting by the ministers of the Gospel, did not distinctly
appear. It was certain, however, that they were the special friends of
Leicester, great orators, very pious, and the sovereigns of the country.
So much could not be gainsaid.

"Your Lordship would wonder," continued the councillor, "to see the
people--who so lately, by the practice of the said States and the
accident of Deventer, were notably alienated--so returned to their former
devotion towards her Majesty, your Lordship, and our nation."

Wilkes was able moreover to gratify the absent governor-general with the
intelligence--of somewhat questionable authenticity however--that the
States were very "much terrified with these threats of the people." But
Barneveld came down to the council to inquire what member of that body it
was who had accused the States of violating the Earl's authority.
"Whoever he is," said the Advocate, "let him deliver his mind frankly,
and he shall be answered." The man did not seem much terrified by the
throat-cutting orations. "It is true," replied Wilkes, perceiving himself
to be the person intended, "that you have very injuriously, in many of
your proceedings, derogated from and trodden the authority of his
Lordship and of this council under your feet."

And then he went into particulars, and discussed, 'more suo,' the
constitutional question, in which various Leicestrian counsellors
seconded him.

But Barneveld grimly maintained that the States were the sovereigns, and
that it was therefore unfit that the governor, who drew his authority
from them, should call them to account for their doings. "It was as if
the governors in the time of Charles V.," said the Advocate, "should have
taxed that Emperor for any action of his done in the government."

In brief, the rugged Barneveld, with threatening voice, and lion port,
seemed to impersonate the Staten, and to hold reclaimed sovereignty in
his grasp. It seemed difficult to tear it from him again.

"I did what I could," said Wilkes, "to beat them from this humour of
their sovereignty, showing that upon that error they had grounded the
rest of their wilful absurdities."

Next night, he drew up sixteen articles, showing the disorders of the
States, their breach of oaths, and violations of the Earl's authority;
and with that commenced a series of papers interchanged by the two
parties, in which the topics of the origin of government and the
principles of religious freedom were handled with much ability on both
sides, but at unmerciful length.

On the religious question, the States-General, led by Barneveld and by
Francis Franck, expressed themselves manfully, on various occasions,
during the mission of Buckhurst.

"The nobles and cities constituting the States," they said, "have been
denounced to Lord Leicester as enemies of religion, by the self-seeking
mischief-makers who surround him. Why? Because they had refused the
demand of certain preachers to call a general synod, in defiance of the
States-General, and to introduce a set of ordinances, with a system of
discipline, according to their arbitrary will. This the late Prince of
Orange and the States-General had always thought detrimental both to
religion and polity. They respected the difference in religious opinions,
and leaving all churches in their freedom, they chose to compel no man's
conscience--a course which all statesmen, knowing the diversity of human
opinions, had considered necessary in order to maintain fraternal
harmony."

Such words shine through the prevailing darkness of the religious
atmosphere at that epoch, like characters of light. They are beacons in
the upward path of mankind. Never before, had so bold and wise a tribute
to the genius of the reformation been paid by an organized community.
Individuals walking in advance of their age had enunciated such truths,
and their voices had seemed to die away, but, at last, a little,
struggling, half-developed commonwealth had proclaimed the rights of
conscience for all mankind--for Papists and Calvinists, Jews and
Anabaptists--because "having a respect for differences in religious
opinions, and leaving all churches in their freedom, they chose to compel
no man's conscience."

On the constitutional question, the States commenced by an astounding
absurdity. "These mischief-makers, moreover," said they, "have not been
ashamed to dispute, and to cause the Earl of Leicester to dispute, the
lawful constitution of the Provinces; a matter which has not been
disputed for eight hundred years."

This was indeed to claim a respectable age for their republic. Eight
hundred years took them back to the days of Charlemagne, in whose time it
would have been somewhat difficult to detect a germ of their
States-General and States-Provincial. That the constitutional
government--consisting of nobles and of the vroedschaps of chartered
cities--should have been in existence four hundred and seventeen years
before the first charter had ever been granted to a city, was a very
loose style of argument. Thomas Wilkes, in reply; might as well have
traced the English parliament to Hengist and Horsa. "For eight hundred
years;" they said, "Holland had been governed by Counts and Countesses,
on whom the nobles and cities, as representing the States, had legally
conferred sovereignty."

Now the first incorporated city of Holland and Zeeland that ever existed
was Middelburg, which received its charter from Count William I. of
Holland and Countess Joan of Flanders; in the year 1217. The first Count
that had any legal recognized authority was Dirk the First to whom
Charles the Simple presented the territory of Holland, by letters-patent,
in 922. Yet the States-General, in a solemn and eloquent document,
gravely dated their own existence from the year 787, and claimed the
regular possession and habitual delegation of sovereignty from that epoch
down!

After this fabulous preamble, they proceeded to handle the matter of fact
with logical precision. It was absurd, they said, that Mr. Wilkes and
Lord Leicester should affect to confound the persons who appeared in the
assembly with the States themselves; as if those individuals claimed or
exercised sovereignty. Any man who had observed what had been passing
during the last fifteen years, knew very well that the supreme authority
did not belong to the thirty or forty individuals who came to the
meetings . . . . The nobles, by reason of their ancient dignity and
splendid possessions, took counsel together over state matters, and then,
appearing at the assembly, deliberated with the deputies of the cities.
The cities had mainly one form of government--a college of counsellors;
or wise men, 40, 32, 28, or 24 in number, of the most respectable out of
the whole community. They were chosen for life, and vacancies were
supplied by the colleges themselves out of the mass of citizens. These
colleges alone governed the city, and that which had been ordained by
them was to be obeyed by all the inhabitants--a system against which
there had never been any rebellion. The colleges again, united with those
of the nobles, represented the whole state, the whole body of the
population; and no form of government could be imagined, they said, that
could resolve, with a more thorough knowledge of the necessities of the
country, or that could execute its resolves with more unity of purpose
and decisive authority. To bring the colleges into an assembly could only
be done by means of deputies. These deputies, chosen by their colleges,
and properly instructed, were sent to the place of meeting. During the
war they had always been commissioned to resolve in common on matters
regarding the liberty of the land. These deputies, thus assembled,
represented, by commission, the States; but they are not, in their own
persons, the States; and no one of them had any such pretension. "The
people of this country," said the States, "have an aversion to all
ambition; and in these disastrous times, wherein nothing but trouble and
odium is to be gathered by public employment, these commissions are
accounted 'munera necessaria'. . . . This form of government has, by
God's favour, protected Holland and Zeeland, during this war, against a
powerful foe, without lose of territory, without any popular outbreak,
without military mutiny, because all business has been transacted with
open doors; and because the very smallest towns are all represented, and
vote in the assembly."

In brief, the constitution of the United Provinces was a matter of fact.
It was there in good working order, and had, for a generation of mankind,
and throughout a tremendous war, done good service. Judged by the
principles of reason and justice, it was in the main a wholesome
constitution, securing the independence and welfare of the state, and the
liberty and property of the individual, as well certainly as did any
polity then existing in the world. It seemed more hopeful to abide by it
yet a little longer than to adopt the throat-cutting system by the
people, recommended by Wilkes and Leicester as an improvement on the old
constitution. This was the view of Lord Buckhurst. He felt that threats
of throat-cutting were not the best means of smoothing and conciliating,
and he had come over to smooth and conciliate.

"To spend the time," said he, "in private brabbles and piques between the
States and Lord Leicester, when we ought to prepare an army against the
enemy, and to repair the shaken and torn state, is not a good course for
her Majesty's service." Letters were continually circulating from hand to
hand among the antagonists of the Holland party, written out of England
by Leicester, exciting the ill-will of the populace against the organized
government. "By such means to bring the States into hatred," said
Buckhurst, "and to stir up the people against them; tends to great damage
and miserable end. This his Lordship doth full little consider, being the
very way to dissolve all government, and so to bring all into confusion,
and open the door for the enemy. But oh, how lamentable a thing it is,
and how doth my Lord of Leicester abuse her Majesty, making her authority
the means to uphold and justify, and under her name to defend and
maintain, all his intolerable errors. I thank God that neither his might
nor his malice shall deter me from laying open all those things which my
conscience knoweth, and which appertaineth to be done for the good of
this cause and of her Majesty's service. Herein, though I were sure to
lose my life, yet will I not offend neither the one nor the other,
knowing very well that I must die; and to die in her Majesty's faithful
service, and with a good conscience, is far more happy than the miserable
life that I am in. If Leicester do in this sort stir up the people
against the States to follow his revenge against them, and if the Queen
do yield no better aid, and the minds of Count Maurice and Hohenlo remain
thus in fear and hatred of him, what good end or service can be hoped for
here?"--[Buckhurst to Walsingham, 13th June, 1587. (Brit. Mus. Galba, D.
I. p. 95, MS.)]

Buckhurst was a man of unimpeached integrity and gentle manners. He had
come over with the best intentions towards the governor-general, and it
has been seen that he boldly defended him in, his first interviews with
the States. But as the intrigues and underhand plottings of the Earl's
agents were revealed to him, he felt more and more convinced that there
was a deep laid scheme to destroy the government, and to constitute a
virtual and absolute sovereignty for Leicester. It was not wonderful that
the States were standing vigorously on the defensive.

The subtle Deventer, Leicester's evil genius, did not cease to poison the
mind of the governor, during his protracted absence, against all persons
who offered impediments to the cherished schemes of his master and
himself. "Your Excellency knows very well," he said, "that the state of
this country is democratic, since, by failure of a prince, the sovereign
disposition of affairs has returned to the people. That same people is
everywhere so incredibly affectionate towards you that the delay in your
return drives them to extreme despair. Any one who would know the real
truth has but to remember the fine fear the States-General were in when
the news of your displeasure about the 4th February letter became known."

Had it not been for the efforts of Lord Buckhurst in calming the popular
rage, Deventer assured the Earl that the writers of the letter would
"have scarcely saved their skins;" and that they had always continued in
great danger.

He vehemently urged upon Leicester, the necessity of his immediate
return--not so much for reasons drawn from the distracted state of the
country, thus left to a provisional government and torn by faction--but
because of the facility with which he might at once seize upon arbitrary
power. He gratified his master by depicting in lively colours the abject
condition into which Barneveld, Maurice, Hohenlo, and similar cowards,
would be thrown by his sudden return.

"If," said he, "the States' members and the counts, every one of them,
are so desperately afraid of the people, even while your Excellency is
afar off, in what trepidation will they be when you are here! God,
reason, the affection of the sovereign people, are on your side. There
needs, in a little commonwealth like ours, but a wink of the eye, the
slightest indication of dissatisfaction on your part, to take away all
their valour from men who are only brave where swords are too short. A
magnanimous prince like yourself should seek at once the place where such
plots are hatching, and you would see the fury of the rebels change at
once to cowardice. There is more than one man here in the Netherlands
that brags of what he will do against the greatest and most highly
endowed prince in England, because he thinks he shall never see him
again, who, at the very first news of your return, my Lord, would think
only of packing his portmanteau, greasing his boots, or, at the very
least, of sneaking back into his hole."

But the sturdy democrat was quite sure that his Excellency, that most
magnanimous prince of England would not desert his faithful
followers--thereby giving those "filthy rascals," his opponents, a
triumph, and "doing so great an injury to the sovereign people, who were
ready to get rid of them all at a single blow, if his Excellency would
but say the word."

He then implored the magnanimous prince to imitate the example of Moses,
Joshua, David, and that of all great emperors and captains, Hebrew,
Greek, and Roman, to come at once to the scene of action, and to smite
his enemies hip and thigh. He also informed his Excellency, that if the
delay should last much longer, he would lose all chance of regaining
power, because the sovereign people had quite made up their mind to
return to the dominion of Spain within three months, if they could not
induce his Excellency to rule over them. In that way at least, if in no
other, they could circumvent those filthy rascals whom they so much
abhorred, and frustrate the designs of Maurice, Hohenlo, and Sir John
Norris, who were represented as occupying the position of the triumvirs
after the death of Julius Caesar.

To place its neck under the yoke of Philip II. and the Inquisition, after
having so handsomely got rid of both, did not seem a sublime
manifestation of sovereignty on the part of the people, and even Deventer
had some misgivings as to the propriety of such a result. "What then will
become of our beautiful churches?" he cried, "What will princes say, what
will the world in general say, what will historians say, about the honour
of the English nation?"

As to the first question, it is probable that the prospect of the
reformed churches would not have been cheerful, had the inquisition been
re-established in Holland and Utrecht, three months after that date. As
to the second, the world and history were likely to reply, that the
honour of the English nation was fortunately not entirely, entrusted at
that epoch to the "magnanimous prince" of Leicester, and his democratic,
counsellor-in-chief, burgomaster Deventer.

These are but samples of the ravings which sounded incessantly in the
ears of the governor-general. Was it strange that a man, so thirsty for
power, so gluttonous of flattery, should be influenced by such passionate
appeals? Addressed in strains of fulsome adulation, convinced that
arbitrary power was within his reach, and assured that he had but to wink
his eye to see his enemies scattered before him, he became impatient of
all restraint; and determined, on his return, to crush the States into
insignificance.

Thus, while Buckhurst had been doing his best as a mediator to prepare
the path for his return, Leicester himself end his partisans had been
secretly exerting themselves to make his arrival the signal for discord;
perhaps of civil war. The calm, then, immediately succeeding the mission
of Buckhurst was a deceitful one, but it seemed very promising. The best
feelings were avowed and perhaps entertained. The States professed great
devotion to her Majesty and friendly regard for the governor. They
distinctly declared that the arrangements by which Maurice and Hohenlo
had been placed in their new positions were purely provisional ones,
subject to modifications on the arrival of the Earl. "All things are
reduced to a quiet calm," said Buckhurst, "ready to receive my Lord of
Leicester and his authority, whenever he cometh."

The quarrel of Hohenlo with Sir Edward Norris had been, by the exertions
of Buckhurst, amicably arranged: the Count became an intimate friend of
Sir John, "to the gladding of all such as wished well to, the country;"
but he nourished a deadly hatred to the Earl. He ran up and down like a
madman whenever his return was mentioned. "If the Queen be willing to
take the sovereignty," he cried out at his own dinner-table to a large
company, "and is ready to proceed roundly in this action, I will serve
her to the last drop of my blood; but if she embrace it in no other sort
than hitherto she hath done, and if Leicester is to return, then am I as
good a man as Leicester, and will never be commanded by him. I mean to
continue on my frontier, where all who love me can come and find me."

He declared to several persons that he had detected a plot on the part of
Leicester to have him assassinated; and the assertion seemed so
important, that Villiers came to Councillor Clerk to confer with him on
the subject. The worthy Bartholomew, who had again, most reluctantly,
left his quiet chambers in the Temple to come again among the guns and
drums, which his soul abhorred, was appalled by such a charge. It was
best to keep it a secret, he said, at least till the matter could be
thoroughly investigated. Villiers was of the same opinion, and
accordingly the councillor, in the excess of his caution, confided the
secret only--to whom? To Mr. Atye, Leicester's private secretary. Atye,
of course, instantly told his master--his master in a frenzy of rage,
told the Queen, and her Majesty, in a paroxysm of royal indignation at
this new insult to her favourite, sent furious letters to her envoys, to
the States-General, to everybody in the Netherlands--so that the
assertion of Hohenlo became the subject of endless recrimination.
Leicester became very violent, and denounced the statement as an impudent
falsehood, devised wilfully in order to cast odium upon him and to
prevent his return. Unquestionably there was nothing in the story but
table-talk; but the Count would have been still more ferocious towards
Leicester than he was, had he known what was actually happening at that
very moment.

While Buckhurst was at Utrecht, listening to the "solemn-speeches" of the
militia-captains and exchanging friendly expressions at stately banquets
with Moeurs, he suddenly received a letter in cipher from her Majesty.
Not having the key, he sent to Wilkes at the Hague. Wilkes was very ill;
but the despatch was marked pressing and immediate, so he got out of bed
and made the journey to Utrecht. The letter, on being deciphered, proved
to be an order from the Queen to decoy Hohenlo into some safe town, on
pretence of consultation and then to throw him into prison, on the ground
that he had been tampering with the enemy, and was about to betray the
republic to Philip.

The commotion which would have been excited by any attempt to enforce
this order, could be easily imagined by those familiar with Hohenlo and
with the powerful party in the Netherlands of which he was one of the
chiefs. Wilkes stood aghast as he deciphered the letter. Buckhurst felt
the impossibility of obeying the royal will. Both knew the cause, and
both foresaw the consequences of the proposed step. Wilkes had heard some
rumours of intrigues between Parma's agents at Deventer and Hohenlo, and
had confided them to Walsingham, hoping that the Secretary would keep the
matter in his own breast, at least till further advice. He was appalled
at the sudden action proposed on a mere rumour, which both Buckhurst and
himself had begun to consider an idle one. He protested, therefore, to
Walsingham that to comply with her Majesty's command would not only be
nearly impossible, but would, if successful, hazard the ruin of the
republic. Wilkes was also very anxious lest the Earl of Leicester should
hear of the matter. He was already the object of hatred to that powerful
personage, and thought him capable of accomplishing his destruction in
any mode. But if Leicester could wreak his vengeance upon his enemy
Wilkes by the hand of his other deadly enemy Hohenlo, the councillor felt
that this kind of revenge would have a double sweetness for him. The
Queen knows what I have been saying, thought Wilkes, and therefore
Leicester knows it; and if Leicester knows it, he will take care that
Hohenlo shall hear of it too, and then wo be unto me. "Your honour
knoweth," he said to Walsingham, "that her Majesty can hold no secrets,
and if she do impart it to Leicester, then am I sped."

Nothing came of it however, and the relations of Wilkes and Buckhurst
with Hohenlo continued to be friendly. It was a lesson to Wilkes to be
more cautious even with the cautious Walsingham. "We had but bare
suspicions," said Buckhurst, "nothing fit, God knoweth, to come to such a
reckoning. Wilkes saith he meant it but for a premonition to you there;
but I think it will henceforth be a premonition to himself--there being
but bare presumptions, and yet shrewd presumptions."

Here then were Deventer and Leicester plotting to overthrow the
government of the States; the States and Hohenlo arming against
Leicester; the extreme democratic party threatening to go over to the
Spaniards within three months; the Earl accused of attempting the life of
Hohenlo; Hohenlo offering to shed the last drop of his blood for Queen
Elizabeth; Queen Elizabeth giving orders to throw Hohenlo into prison as
a traitor; Councillor Wilkes trembling for his life at the hands both of
Leicester and Hohenlo; and Buckhurst doing his best to conciliate all
parties, and imploring her Majesty in vain to send over money to help on
the war, and to save her soldiers from starving.

For the Queen continued to refuse the loan of fifty thousand pounds which
the provinces solicited, and in hope of which the States had just agreed
to an extra contribution of a million florins (L100,000), a larger sum
than had been levied by a single vote since the commencement of the war.
It must be remembered, too, that the whole expense of the war fell upon
Holland and Zeeland. The Province of Utrecht, where there was so strong a
disposition to confer absolute authority upon Leicester, and to destroy
the power of the States-General contributed absolutely nothing. Since the
Loss of Deventer, nothing could be raised in the Provinces of Utrecht,
Gelderland or Overyssel; the Spaniards levying black mail upon the whole
territory, and impoverishing the inhabitants till they became almost a
nullity. Was it strange then that the States of Holland and Zeeland, thus
bearing nearly the whole; burden of the war, should be dissatisfied with
the hatred felt toward them by their sister Provinces so generously
protected by them? Was it unnatural that Barneveld, and Maurice, and
Hohenlo, should be disposed to bridle the despotic inclinations of
Leicester, thus fostered by those who existed, as it were, at their
expense?

But the Queen refused the L50,000, although Holland and Zeeland had voted
the L100,000. "No reason that breedeth charges," sighed Walsingham, "can
in any sort be digested."

It was not for want of vehement entreaty on the part of the Secretary of
State and of Buckhurst that the loan was denied. At least she was
entreated to send over money for her troops, who for six months past were
unpaid. "Keeping the money in your coffers," said Buckhurst, "doth yield
no interest to you, and--which is above all earthly, respects--it shall
be the means of preserving the lives of many of your faithful subjects
which otherwise must needs, daily perish. Their miseries, through want of
meat and money, I do protest to God so much moves, my soul with
commiseration of that which is past, and makes my heart tremble to think
of the like to come again, that I humbly beseech your Majesty, for Jesus
Christ sake, to have compassion on their lamentable estate past, and send
some money to prevent the like hereafter."

These were moving words,--but the money did not come--charges could not
be digested.

"The eternal God," cried Buckhurst, "incline your heart to grant the
petition of the States for the loan of the L50,000, and that speedily,
for the dangerous terms of the State here and the mighty and forward
preparation of the enemy admit no minute of delay; so that even to grant
it slowly is to deny it utterly."

He then drew a vivid picture of the capacity of the Netherlands to assist
the endangered realm of England, if delay were not suffered to destroy
both commonwealths, by placing the Provinces in an enemy's hand.

"Their many and notable good havens," he said, "the great number of ships
and mariners, their impregnable towns, if they were in the hands of a
potent prince that would defend them, and, lastly, the state of this
shore; so near and opposite unto the land and coast of England--lo, the
sight of all this, daily in mine eye, conjoined with the deep, enrooted
malice of that your so mighty enemy who seeketh to regain them; these
things entering continually into the meditations of my heart--so much do
they import the safety of yourself and your estate--do enforce me, in the
abundance of my love and duty to your Majesty, most earnestly to speak,
write, and weep unto you, lest when the occasion yet offered shall be
gone by, this blessed means of your defence, by God's provident goodness
thus put into your hand, will then be utterly lost, lo; never, never more
to be recovered again."

It was a noble, wise, and eloquent appeal, but it was muttered in vain.
Was not Leicester--his soul filled with petty schemes of reigning in
Utrecht, and destroying the constitutional government of the
Provinces--in full possession of the royal ear? And was not the same ear
lent, at most critical moment, to the insidious Alexander Farnese, with
his whispers of peace, which were potent enough to drown all the
preparations for the invincible Armada?

Six months had rolled away since Leicester had left the Netherlands; six
months long, the Provinces, left in a condition which might have become
anarchy, had been saved by the wise government of the States-General; six
months long the English soldiers had remained unpaid by their sovereign;
and now for six weeks the honest, eloquent, intrepid, but gentle
Buckhurst had done his best to conciliate all parties, and to mould the
Netherlanders into an impregnable bulwark for the realm of England. But
his efforts were treated with scorn by the Queen. She was still maddened
by a sense of the injuries done by the States to Leicester. She was
indignant that her envoy should have accepted such lame apologies for the
4th of February letter; that he should have received no better atonement
for their insolent infringements of the Earl's orders during his absence;
that he should have excused their contemptuous proceedings and that, in
short, he should have been willing to conciliate and forgive when he
should have stormed and railed. "You conceived, it seemeth," said her
Majesty, "that a more sharper manner of proceeding would have exasperated
matters to the prejudice of the service, and therefore you did think it
more fit to wash the wounds rather with water than vinegar, wherein we
would rather have wished, on the other side, that you had better
considered that festering wounds had more need of corrosives than
lenitives. Your own judgment ought to have taught that such a alight and
mild kind of dealing with a people so ingrate and void of consideration
as the said Estates have showed themselves toward us, is the ready way to
increase their contempt."

The envoy might be forgiven for believing that at any rate there would be
no lack of corrosives or vinegar, so long as the royal tongue or pen
could do their office, as the unfortunate deputies had found to their
cost in their late interviews at Greenwich, and as her own envoys in the
Netherlands were perpetually finding now. The Queen was especially
indignant that the Estates should defend the tone of their letters to the
Earl on the ground that he had written a piquant epistle to them. "But
you can manifestly see their untruths in naming it a piquant letter,"
said Elizabeth, "for it has no sour or sharp word therein, nor any clause
or reprehension, but is full of gravity and gentle admonition. It
deserved a thankful answer, and so you may maintain it to them to their
reproof."

The States doubtless thought that the loss of Deventer and, with it, the
almost ruinous condition of three out of the seven Provinces, might
excuse on their part a little piquancy of phraseology, nor was it easy
for them to express gratitude to the governor for his grave and gentle
admonitions, after he had, by his secret document of 24th November,
rendered himself fully responsible for the disaster they deplored.

She expressed unbounded indignation with Hohenlo, who, as she was well
aware, continued to cherish a deadly hatred for Leicester. Especially she
was exasperated, and with reason, by the assertion the Count had made
concerning the governor's murderous designs upon him. "'Tis a matter,"
said the Queen, "so foul and dishonourable that doth not only touch
greatly the credit of the Earl, but also our own honour, to have one who
hath been nourished and brought up by us, and of whom we have made show
to the world to have extraordinarily favoured above any other of our own
subjects, and used his service in those countries in a place of that
reputation he held there, stand charged with so horrible and unworthy a
crime. And therefore our pleasure is, even as you tender the continuance
of our favour towards you, that you seek, by all the means you may,
examining the Count Hollock, or any other party in this matter, to
discover and to sift out how this malicious imputation hath been wrought;
for we have reason to think that it hath grown out of some cunning device
to stay the Earl's coming, and to discourage him from the continuance of
his service in those countries."

And there the Queen was undoubtedly in the right. Hohenlo was resolved,
if possible, to make the Earl's government of the Netherlands impossible.
There was nothing in the story however; and all that by the most diligent
"sifting" could ever be discovered, and all that the Count could be
prevailed upon to confess, was an opinion expressed by him that if he had
gone with Leicester to England, it might perhaps have fared ill with him.
But men were given to loose talk in those countries. There was great
freedom of tongue and pen; and as the Earl, whether with justice or not,
had always been suspected of strong tendencies to assassination, it was
not very wonderful that so reckless an individual as Hohenlo should
promulgate opinions on such subjects, without much reserve. "The number
of crimes that have been imputed to me," said Leicester, "would be
incomplete, had this calumny not been added to all preceding ones." It is
possible that assassination, especially poisoning, may have been a more
common-place affair in those days than our own. At any rate, it is
certain that accusations of such crimes were of ordinary occurrence. Men
were apt to die suddenly if they had mortal enemies, and people would
gossip. At the very same moment, Leicester was deliberately accused not
only of murderous intentions towards Hohenlo, but towards Thomas Wilkes
and Count Lewis William of Nassau likewise. A trumpeter, arrested in
Friesland, had just confessed that he had been employed by the Spanish
governor of that Province, Colonel Verdugo, to murder Count Lewis, and
that four other persons had been entrusted with the same commission. The
Count wrote to Verdugo, and received in reply an indignant denial of the
charge. "Had I heard of such a project," said the Spaniard, "I would, on
the contrary, have given you warning. And I give you one now." He then
stated, as a fact known to him on unquestionable authority, that the Earl
of Leicester had assassins at that moment in his employ to take the life
of Count Lewis, adding that as for the trumpeter, who had just been
hanged for the crime suborned by the writer, he was a most notorious
lunatic. In reply, Lewis, while he ridiculed this plea of insanity set up
for a culprit who had confessed his crime succinctly and voluntarily,
expressed great contempt for the counter-charge against Leicester. "His
Excellency," said the sturdy little Count, "is a virtuous gentleman, the
most pious and God-fearing I have ever known. I am very sure that he
could never treat his enemies in the manner stated, much less his
friends. As for yourself, may God give me grace, in requital of your
knavish trick, to make such a war upon you as becomes an upright soldier
and a man of honour."

Thus there was at least one man--and a most important, one--in the
opposition--party who thoroughly believed in the honour of the
governor-general.

The Queen then proceeded to lecture Lord Buckhurst very severely for
having tolerated an instant the States' proposition to her for a loan of
L50,000. "The enemy," she observed, "is quite unable to attempt the siege
of any town."

Buckhurst was, however, instructed, in case the States' million should
prove insufficient to enable the army to make head against the enemy, and
in the event of "any alteration of the good-will of the people towards
her, caused by her not yielding, in this their necessity, some convenient
support," to let them then understand, "as of himself, that if they would
be satisfied with a loan of ten or fifteen thousand pounds, he, would do
his best endeavour to draw her Majesty to yield unto the furnishing of
such a sum, with assured hope to obtaining the same at her hands."

Truly Walsingham was right in saying that charges of any kind were
difficult of digestion: Yet, even at that moment, Elizabeth had no more
attached subjects in England than sere the burghers of the Netherlands;
who were as anxious ever to annex their territory to her realms.

'Thus, having expressed an affection for Leicester which no one doubted,
having once more thoroughly brow-beaten the states, and having soundly
lectured Buckhurst--as a requital for his successful efforts to bring
about a more wholesome condition of affairs--she gave the envoy a parting
stab, with this postscript;--"There is small disproportion," she said
"twist a fool who useth not wit because he hath it not, and him that
useth it not when it should avail him." Leicester, too, was very violent
in his attacks upon Buckhurst. The envoy had succeeded in reconciling
Hohenlo with the brothers Norris, and had persuaded Sir John to offer the
hand of friendship to Leicester, provided it were sure of being accepted.
Yet in this desire to conciliate, the Earl found renewed cause for
violence. "I would have had more regard of my Lord of Buckhurst," he
said, "if the case had been between him and Norris, but I must regard my
own reputation the more that I see others would impair it. You have
deserved little thanks of me, if I must deal plainly, who do equal me
after this sort with him, whose best place is colonel under me, and once
my servant, and preferred by me to all honourable place he had." And thus
were enterprises of great moment, intimately affecting the safety of
Holland, of England, of all Protestantism, to be suspended between
triumph and ruin, in order that the spleen of one individual--one Queen's
favourite--might be indulged. The contempt of an insolent grandee for a
distinguished commander--himself the son, of a Baron, with a mother the
dear friend of her sovereign--was to endanger the existence of great
commonwealths. Can the influence of the individual, for good or bad, upon
the destinies of the race be doubted, when the characters and conduct of
Elizabeth and Leicester, Burghley and Walsingham, Philip and Parma, are
closely scrutinized and broadly traced throughout the wide range of their
effects?

"And I must now, in your Lordship's sight," continued Leicester, "be made
a counsellor with this companion, who never yet to this day hath done so
much as take knowledge of my mislike of him; no, not to say this much,
which I think would well become his better, that he was sorry, to hear I
had mislike to him, that he desired my suspension till he might either
speak with me, or be charged from me, and if then he were not able to
satisfy me, he would acknowledge his fault, and make me any honest
satisfaction. This manner of dealing would have been no disparagement to
his better. And even so I must think that your Lordship doth me wrong,
knowing what you do, to make so little difference between John Norris, my
man not long since, and now but my colonel under me, as though we were
equals. And I cannot but more than marvel at this your proceeding, when I
remember your promises of friendship, and your opinions resolutely set
down . . . . You were so determined before you went hence, but must have
become wonderfully enamoured of those men's unknown virtues in a few days
of acquaintance, from the alteration that is grown by their own
commendations of themselves. You know very well that all the world should
not make me serve with John Norris. Your sudden change from mislike to
liking has, by consequence, presently cast disgrace upon me. But all is
not gold that glitters, nor every shadow a perfect representation . . . .
You knew he should not serve with me, but either you thought me a very
inconstant man, or else a very simple soul, resolving with you as I did,
for you to take the course you have done." He felt, however, quite strong
in her Majesty's favour. He knew himself her favourite, beyond all chance
or change, and was sure, so long as either lived, to thrust his enemies,
by her aid, into outer darkness. Woe to Buckhurst, and Norris, and
Wilkes, and all others who consorted with his enemies. Let them flee from
the wrath to come! And truly they were only too anxious to do so, for
they knew that Leicester's hatred was poisonous. "He is not so facile to
forget as ready to revenge," said poor Wilkes, with neat alliteration.
"My very heavy and mighty adversary will disgrace and undo me.

"It sufficeth," continued Leicester, "that her Majesty both find my
dealings well enough, and so, I trust will graciously use me. As for the
reconciliations and love-days you have made there, truly I have liked
well of it; for you did sow me your disposition therein before, and I
allowed of it, and I had received letters both from Count Maurice and
Hohenlo of their humility and kindness, but now in your last letters you
say they have uttered the cause of their mislike towards me, which you
forbear to write of, looking so speedily for my return."

But the Earl knew well enough what the secret was, for had it not been
specially confided by the judicious Bartholomew to Atye, who had
incontinently told his master? "This pretense that I should kill
Hohenlo," cried Leicester, "is a matter properly foisted in to bring me
to choler. I will not suffer it to rest, thus. Its authors shall be duly
and severely punished. And albeit I see well enough the plot of this
wicked device, yet shall it not work the effect the devisers have done it
for. No, my Lord, he is a villain and a false lying knave whosoever he
be, and of what, nation soever that hath forged this device. Count
Hohenlo doth know I never gave him cause to fear me so much. There were
ways and means offered me to have quitted him of the country if I had so
liked. This new monstrous villany which is now found out I do hate and
detest, as I would look for the right judgment of God to fall upon
myself, if I had but once imagined it. All this makes good proof of
Wilkes's good dealing with me, that hath heard of so vile and villainous
a reproach of me, and never gave me knowledge. But I trust your Lordship
shall receive her Majesty's order for this, as for a matter that toucheth
herself in honour, and me her poor servant and minister, as dearly as any
matter can do; and I will so take it and use it to the uttermost."

We have seen how anxiously Buckhurst had striven to do his duty upon a
most difficult mission. Was it unnatural that so fine a nature as his
should be disheartened, at reaping nothing but sneers and contumely from
the haughty sovereign he served, and from the insolent favourite who
controlled her councils? "I beseech your Lordship," he said to Burghley,
"keep one ear for me, and do not hastily condemn me before you hear mine
answer. For if I ever did or shall do any acceptable service to her
Majesty, it was in, the stay and appeasing of these countries, ever ready
at my coming to have cast off all good respect towards us, and to have
entered even into some desperate cause. In the meantime I am hardly
thought of by her Majesty, and in her opinion condemned before mine
answer be understood. Therefore I beseech you to help me to return, and
not thus to lose her Majesty's favour for my good desert, wasting here my
mind, body, my wits, wealth, and all; with continual toils, taxes, and
troubles, more than I am able to endure."

But besides his instructions to smooth and expostulate, in which he had
succeeded so well, and had been requited so ill; Buckhurst had received a
still more difficult commission. He had been ordered to broach the
subject of peace, as delicately as possible, but without delay; first
sounding the leading politicians, inducing them to listen to the Queen's
suggestions on the subject, persuading them that they ought to be
satisfied with the principles of the pacification of Ghent, and that it
was hopeless for the Provinces to continue the war with their mighty
adversary any longer.

Most reluctantly had Buckhurst fulfilled his sovereign's commands in this
disastrous course. To talk to the Hollanders of the Ghent pacification
seemed puerile. That memorable treaty, ten years before, had been one of
the great landmarks of progress, one of the great achievements of William
the Silent. By its provisions, public exercise of the reformed religion
had been secured for the two Provinces of Holland and Zeeland, and it had
been agreed that the secret practice of those rites should be elsewhere
winked at, until such time as the States-General, under the auspices of
Philip II., should otherwise ordain. But was it conceivable that now,
after Philip's authority had been solemnly abjured, and the reformed
worship had become the public, dominant religion, throughout all the
Provinces,--the whole republic should return to the Spanish dominion, and
to such toleration as might be sanctioned by an assembly professing
loyalty to the most Catholic King?

Buckhurst had repeatedly warned the Queen, in fervid and eloquent
language, as to the intentions of Spain. "There was never peace well
made," he observed, "without a mighty war preceding, and always, the
sword in hand is the best pen to write the conditions of peace."

"If ever prince had cause," he continued, "to think himself beset with
doubt and danger, you, sacred Queen, have most just cause not only to
think it, but even certainly to believe it. The Pope doth daily plot
nothing else but how he may bring to pass your utter overthrow; the
French King hath already sent you threatenings of revenge, and though for
that pretended cause I think little will ensue, yet he is blind that
seeth not the mortal dislike that boileth deep in his heart for other
respects against you. The Scottish King, not only in regard of his future
hope, but also by reason of some over conceit in his heart, may be
thought a dangerous neighbour to you. The King of Spain armeth and
extendeth all his power to ruin both you and your estate. And if the
Indian gold have corrupted also the King of Denmark, and made him
likewise Spanish, as I marvellously fear; why will not your Majesty,
beholding the flames of your enemies on every side kindling around,
unlock all your coffers and convert your treasure for the advancing of
worthy men, and for the arming of ships and men-of-war that may defend
you, since princes' treasures serve only to that end, and, lie they never
so fast or so full in their chests, can no ways so defend them?

"The eternal God, in whose hands the hearts of kings do rest, dispose and
guide your sacred Majesty to do that which may be most according to His
blessed will, and best for you, as I trust He will, even for His mercy's
sake, both toward your Majesty and the whole realm of England, whose
desolation is thus sought and compassed."

Was this the language of a mischievous intriguer, who was sacrificing the
true interest of his country, and whose proceedings were justly earning
for him rebuke and disgrace at the hands of his sovereign? Or was it
rather the noble advice of an upright statesman, a lover of his country,
a faithful servant of his Queen, who had looked through the atmosphere of
falsehood in which he was doing his work, and who had detected, with rare
sagacity, the secret purposes of those who were then misruling the world?

Buckhurst had no choice, however, but to obey. His private efforts were
of course fruitless, but he announced to her Majesty that it was his
intention very shortly to bring the matter--according to her wish--before
the assembly.

But Elizabeth, seeing that her counsel had been unwise and her action
premature, turned upon her envoy, as she was apt to do, and rebuked him
for his obedience, so soon as obedience had proved inconvenient to
herself.

"Having perused your letters," she said, "by which you at large debate
unto us what you have done in the matter of peace . . . . we find it
strange that you should proceed further. And although we had given you
full and ample direction to proceed to a public dealing in that cause,
yet our own discretion, seeing the difficulties and dangers that you
yourself saw in the propounding of the matter, ought to have led you to
delay till further command from us."

Her Majesty then instructed her envoy, in case he had not yet "propounded
the matter in the state-house to the general assembly," to pause entirely
until he heard her further pleasure. She concluded, as usual, with a
characteristic postcript in her own hand.

"Oh weigh deeplier this matter," she said, "than, with so shallow a
judgment, to spill the cause, impair my honour, and shame yourself, with
all your wit, that once was supposed better than to lose a bargain for
the handling."

Certainly the sphinx could have propounded no more puzzling riddles than
those which Elizabeth thus suggested to Buckhurst. To make war without an
army, to support an army without pay, to frame the hearts of a whole
people to peace who were unanimous for war, and this without saying a
word either in private or public; to dispose the Netherlanders favourably
to herself and to Leicester, by refusing them men and money, brow-beating
them for asking for it, and subjecting them to a course of perpetual
insults, which she called "corrosives," to do all this and more seemed
difficult. If not to do it, were to spill the cause and to lose the
bargain, it was more than probable that they would be spilt and lost.

But the ambassador was no OEdipus--although a man of delicate perceptions
and brilliant intellect--and he turned imploringly to a wise counsellor
for aid against the tormentor who chose to be so stony-faced and
enigmatical.

"Touching the matter of peace," said he to Walsingham, "I have written
somewhat to her Majesty in cipher, so as I am sure you will be called for
to decipher it. If you did know how infinitely her Majesty did at my
departure and before--for in this matter of peace she hath specially used
me this good while--command me, pray me, and persuade me to further and
hasten the same with all the speed possible that might be, and how, on
the other side, I have continually been the man and the mean that have
most plainly dehorted her from such post-haste, and that she should never
make good peace without a puissant army in the field, you would then say
that I had now cause to fear her displeasure for being too slow, and not
too forward. And as for all the reasons which in my last letters are set
down, her Majesty hath debated them with me many times."

And thus midsummer was fast approaching, the commonwealth was without a
regular government, Leicester remained in England nursing his wrath and
preparing his schemes, the Queen was at Greenwich, corresponding with
Alexander Farnese, and sending riddles to Buckhurst, when the enemy--who,
according to her Majesty, was "quite unable to attempt the siege of any
town" suddenly appeared in force in Flanders, and invested Sluy's. This
most important seaport, both for the destiny of the republic and of
England at that critical moment, was insufficiently defended. It was
quite time to put an army in the field, with a governor-general to
command it.

On the 5th June there was a meeting of the state-council at the Hague.
Count Maurice, Hohenlo, and Moeurs were present, besides several members
of the States-General. Two propositions were before the council. The
first was that it was absolutely necessary to the safety of the republic,
now that the enemy had taken the field, and the important city of Sluy's
was besieged, for Prince Maurice to be appointed captain-general, until
such time as the Earl of Leicester or some other should be sent by her
Majesty. The second was to confer upon the state-council the supreme
government in civil affairs, for the same period, and to repeal all
limitations and restrictions upon the powers of the council made secretly
by the Earl.

Chancellor Leoninus, "that grave, wise old man," moved the propositions.
The deputies of the States were requested to withdraw. The vote of each
councillor was demanded. Buckhurst, who, as the Queen's
representative--together with Wilkes and John Norris--had a seat in the
council, refused to vote. "It was a matter," he discreetly observed with
which "he had not been instructed by her Majesty to intermeddle." Norris
and Wilkes also begged to be excused from voting, and, although earnestly
urged to do so by the whole council, persisted in their refusal. Both
measures were then carried.

No sooner was the vote taken, than an English courier entered the
council-chamber, with pressing despatches from Lord Leicester. The
letters were at once read. The Earl announced his speedy arrival, and
summoned both the States-General and the council to meet him at Dort,
where his lodgings were already taken. All were surprised, but none more
than Buckhurst, Wilkes, and Norris; for no intimation of this sudden
resolution had been received by them, nor any answer given to various
propositions, considered by her Majesty as indispensable preliminaries to
the governor's visit.

The council adjourned till after dinner, and Buckhurst held conference
meantime with various counsellors and deputies. On the reassembling of
the board, it was urged by Barneveld, in the name of the States, that the
election of Prince Maurice should still hold good. "Although by these
letters," said he, "it would seem that her Majesty had resolved upon the
speedy return of his Excellency, yet, inasmuch as the counsels and
resolutions of princes are often subject to change upon new occasion, it
does not seem fit that our late purpose concerning Prince Maurice should
receive any interruption."

Accordingly, after brief debate, both resolutions, voted in the morning,
were confirmed in the afternoon.

"So now," said Wilkes, "Maurice is general of all the forces, 'et quid
sequetur nescimus.'"

But whatever else was to follow, it was very certain that Wilkes would
not stay. His great enemy had sworn his destruction, and would now take
his choice, whether to do him to death himself, or to throw him into the
clutch of the ferocious Hohenlo. "As for my own particular," said the
counsellor, "the word is go, whosoever cometh or cometh not," and he
announced to Walsingham his intention of departing without permission,
should he not immediately receive it from England. "I shall stay to be
dandled with no love-days nor leave-takings," he observed.

But Leicester had delayed his coming too long. The country felt that
it-had been trifled with by his: absence--at so critical a period--of
seven months. It was known too that the Queen was secretly treating with
the enemy, and that Buckhurst had been privately sounding leading
personages upon that subject, by her orders. This had caused a deep,
suppressed indignation. Over and over again had the English government
been warned as to the danger of delay. "Your length in resolving;" Wilkes
had said, "whatsoever your secret purposes may be--will put us to new
plunges before long." The mission of Buckhurst was believed to be "but a
stale, having some other intent than was expressed." And at last, the new
plunge had been fairly taken. It seemed now impossible for Leicester to
regain the absolute authority, which he coveted; and which he had for a
brief season possessed. The States-General, under able leaders, had
become used to a government which had been forced upon them, and which
they had wielded with success. Holland and Zeeland, paying the whole
expense of the war, were not likely to endure again the absolute
sovereignty of a foreigner, guided by a back stairs council of reckless
politicians--most of whom were unprincipled, and some of whom had been
proved to be felons--and established, at Utrecht, which contributed
nothing to the general purse. If Leicester were really-coming, it seemed
certain that he would be held to acknowledge the ancient constitution,
and to respect the sovereignty of the States-General. It was resolved
that he should be well bridled. The sensations of Barneveld and his party
may therefore be imagined, when a private letter of Leicester, to his
secretary "the fellow named Junius," as Hohenlo called him--having been
intercepted at this moment, gave them an opportunity of studying the
Earl's secret thoughts.

The Earl informed his correspondent that he was on the point of starting
for the Netherlands. He ordered him therefore to proceed at once to
reassure those whom he knew well disposed as to the good intentions of
her Majesty and of the governor-general. And if, on the part of Lord
Buckhurst or others, it should be intimated that the Queen was resolved
to treat for peace with the King of Spain; and wished to have the opinion
of the Netherlanders on that subject, he was to say boldly that Lord
Buckhurst never had any such charge, and that her Majesty had not been
treating at all. She had only been attempting to sound the King's
intentions towards the Netherlands, in case of any accord. Having
received no satisfactory assurance on the subject, her Majesty was
determined to proceed with the defence of these countries. This appeared
by the expedition of Drake against Spain, and by the return of the Earl,
with a good cumber of soldiers paid by her Majesty, over and above her
ordinary subsidy.

"You are also;" said the Earl, "to tell those who have the care of the
people" (the ministers of the reformed church and others), "that I am
returning, in the confidence that they will, in future, cause all past
difficulties to cease, and that they will yield to me a legitimate
authority, such as befits for administering the sovereignty of the
Provinces, without my being obliged to endure all the oppositions and
counter-minings of the States, as in times past. The States must content
themselves with retaining the power which they claim to have exercised
under the governors of the Emperor and the King--without attempting
anything farther during my government--since I desire to do nothing of
importance without the advice of the council, which will be composed
legitimately of persons of the country. You will also tell them that her
Majesty commands me to return unless I can obtain from the States the
authority which is necessary, in order not to be governor in appearance
only and on paper. And I wish that those who are good may be apprized of
all this, in order that nothing may happen to their prejudice and ruin,
and contrary to their wishes."

There were two very obvious comments to be made upon this document.
Firstly, the States--de jure, as they claimed, and de facto most
unquestionably--were in the position of the Emperor and King. They were
the sovereigns. The Earl wished them to content themselves with the power
which they exercised under the Emperor's governors. This was like
requesting the Emperor, when in the Netherlands, to consider himself
subject to his own governor. The second obvious reflection was that the
Earl, in limiting his authority by a state-council, expected, no doubt,
to appoint that body himself--as he had done before--and to allow the
members only the right of talking, and of voting,--without the power of
enforcing their decisions. In short, it was very plain that Leicester
meant to be more absolute than ever.

As to the flat contradiction given to Buckhurst's proceedings in the
matter of peace, that statement could scarcely deceive any one who had
seen her Majesty's letters and instructions to her envoy.

It was also a singularly deceitful course to be adopted by Leicester
towards Buckhurst and towards the Netherlands, because his own private
instructions, drawn up at the same moment, expressly enjoined him to do
exactly what Buckhurst had been doing. He was most strictly and earnestly
commanded to deal privately with all such persons as bad influence with
the "common sort of people," in order that they should use their
influence with those common people in favour of peace, bringing vividly
before them the excessive burthens of the war, their inability to cope
with so potent a prince as Philip, and the necessity the Queen was under
of discontinuing her contributions to their support. He was to make the
same representations to the States, and he was further most explicitly to
inform all concerned, that, in case they were unmoved by these
suggestions, her Majesty had quite made up her mind to accept the
handsome offers of peace held out by the King of Spain, and to leave them
to their fate.

It seemed scarcely possible that the letter to Junius and the
instructions for the Earl should have been dated the same week, and
should have emanated from the same mind; but such was the fact.

He was likewise privately to assure Maurice and Hohenlo--in order to
remove their anticipated opposition to the peace--that such care should
be taken in providing for them, as that "they should have no just cause
to dislike thereof, but to rest satisfied withal."

With regard to the nature of his authority, he was instructed to claim a
kind of dictatorship in everything regarding the command of the forces,
and the distribution of the public treasure. All offices were to be at
his disposal. Every florin contributed by the States was to be placed in
his hands, and spent according to his single will. He was also to have
plenary power to prevent the trade in victuals with the enemy by death
and confiscation.

If opposition to any of these proposals were made by the States-General,
he was to appeal to the States of each Province; to the towns and
communities, and in case it should prove impossible for him "to be
furnished with the desired authority," he was then instructed to say that
it was "her Majesty's meaning to leave them to their own counsel and
defence, and to withdraw the support that she had yielded to them: seeing
plainly that the continuance of the confused government now reigning
among them could not but work their ruin."

Both these papers came into Barneveld's hands, through the agency of
Ortel, the States' envoy in England, before the arrival of the Earl in
the Netherlands.

Of course they soon became the topics of excited conversation and of
alarm in every part of the country. Buckhurst, touched to the quick by
the reflection upon those--proceedings of his which had been so
explicitly enjoined upon him, and so reluctantly undertaken--appealed
earnestly to her Majesty. He reminded her, as delicately as possible,
that her honour, as well as his own, was at stake by Leicester's insolent
disavowals of her authorized ambassador. He besought her to remember
"what even her own royal hand had written to the Duke of Parma;" and how
much his honour was interested "by the disavowing of his dealings about
the peace begun by her Majesty's commandment." He adjured her with much
eloquence to think upon the consequences of stirring up the common and
unstable multitude against their rulers; upon the pernicious effects of
allowing the clergy to inflame the passions of the people against the
government. "Under the name of such as have charge over the people," said
Buckhurst, "are understood the ministers and chaplains of the churches in
every town, by the means of whom it, seems that his Lordship tendeth his
whole purpose to attain to his desire of the administration of the
sovereignty." He assured the Queen that this scheme of Leicester to seize
virtually upon that sovereignty, would be a disastrous one. "The States
are resolved," said he, "since your Majesty doth refuse the sovereignty,
to lay it upon no creature else, as a thing contrary to their oath and
allegiance to their country." He reminded her also that the States had
been dissatisfied with the Earl's former administration, believing that
he had exceeded his commission, and that they were determined therefore
to limit his authority at his return. "Your sacred Majesty may consider,"
he said, "what effect all this may work among the common and ignorant
people, by intimating that, unless they shall procure him the
administration of such a sovereignty as he requireth, their ruin may
ensue." Buckhurst also informed her that he had despatched Councillor
Wilkes to England, in order that he might give more ample information on
all these affairs by word of mouth than could well be written.

It need hardly be stated that Barneveld came down to the states'-house
with these papers in his hand, and thundered against the delinquent and
intriguing governor till the general indignation rose to an alarming
height. False statements of course were made to Leicester as to the
substance of the Advocate's discourse. He was said to have charged upon
the English government an intention to seize forcibly upon their cities,
and to transfer them to Spain on payment of the sums due to the Queen
from the States, and to have declared that he had found all this treason
in the secret instructions of the Earl. But Barneveld had read the
instructions, to which the attention of the reader has just been called,
and had strictly stated the truth which was damaging enough, without need
of exaggeration.

     ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

     All business has been transacted with open doors
     Beacons in the upward path of mankind
     Been already crimination and recrimination more than enough
     Casting up the matter "as pinchingly as possibly might be"
     Disposed to throat-cutting by the ministers of the Gospel
     During this, whole war, we have never seen the like
     Even to grant it slowly is to deny it utterly
     Evil is coming, the sooner it arrives the better
     Fool who useth not wit because he hath it not
     Guilty of no other crime than adhesion to the Catholic faith
     Individuals walking in advance of their age
     Never peace well made, he observed, without a mighty war
     Rebuked him for his obedience
     Respect for differences in religious opinions
     Sacrificed by the Queen for faithfully obeying her orders
     Succeeded so well, and had been requited so ill
     Sword in hand is the best pen to write the conditions of peace
     Their existence depended on war
     They chose to compel no man's conscience
     Torturing, hanging, embowelling of men, women, and children
     Universal suffrage was not dreamed of at that day
     Waiting the pleasure of a capricious and despotic woman
     Who the "people" exactly were




CHAPTER XVI. 1587

   Situation of Sluys--Its Dutch and English Garrison--Williams writes
   from Sluys to the Queen--Jealousy between the Earl and States--
   Schemes to relieve Sluys--Which are feeble and unsuccessful--The
   Town Capitulates--Parma enters--Leicester enraged--The Queen angry
   with the Anti-Leicestrians--Norris, Wilkes, and Buckhurst punished--
   Drake sails for Spain--His Exploits at Cadiz and Lisbon--He is
   rebuked by Elizabeth.

When Dante had passed through the third circle of the Inferno--a desert
of red-hot sand, in which lay a multitude of victims of divine wrath,
additionally tortured by an ever-descending storm of fiery flakes--he was
led by Virgil out of this burning wilderness along a narrow causeway.
This path was protected, he said, against the showers of flame, by the
lines of vapour which rose eternally from a boiling brook. Even by such
shadowy bulwarks, added the poet, do the Flemings between Kadzand and
Bruges protect their land against the ever-threatening sea.

It was precisely among these slender dykes between Kadzand and Bruges
that Alexander Farnese had now planted all the troops that he could
muster in the field. It was his determination to conquer the city of
Sluys; for the possession of that important sea-port was necessary for
him as a basis for the invasion of England, which now occupied all the
thoughts of his sovereign and himself.

Exactly opposite the city was the island of Kadzand, once a fair and
fertile territory, with a city and many flourishing villages upon its
surface, but at that epoch diminished to a small dreary sand-bank by the
encroachments of the ocean.

A stream of inland water, rising a few leagues to the south of Sluys,
divided itself into many branches just before reaching the city,
converted the surrounding territory into a miniature archipelago--the
islands of which were shifting treacherous sand-banks at low water, and
submerged ones at flood--and then widening and deepening into a
considerable estuary, opened for the city a capacious harbour, and an
excellent although intricate passage to the sea. The city, which was well
built and thriving, was so hidden in its labyrinth of canals and
streamlets, that it seemed almost as difficult a matter to find Sluys as
to conquer it. It afforded safe harbour for five hundred large vessels;
and its possession, therefore, was extremely important for Parma. Besides
these natural defences, the place was also protected by fortifications;
which were as well constructed as the best of that period. There was a
strong rampire and many towers. There was also a detached citadel of
great strength, looking towards the sea, and there was a ravelin, called
St. Anne's, looking in the direction of Bruges. A mere riband of dry land
in that quarter was all of solid earth to be found in the environs of
Sluys.

The city itself stood upon firm soil, but that soil had been hollowed
into a vast system of subterranean magazines, not for warlike purposes,
but for cellars, as Sluys had been from a remote period the great
entrepot of foreign wines in the Netherlands.

While the eternal disputes between Leicester and the States were going on
both in Holland and in England, while the secret negotiations between
Alexander Farnese and Queen slowly proceeding at Brussels and Greenwich,
the Duke, notwithstanding the destitute condition of his troops, and the
famine which prevailed throughout the obedient Provinces, had succeeded
in bringing a little army of five thousand foot, and something less than
one thousand horse, into the field. A portion of this force he placed
under the command of the veteran La Motte. That distinguished campaigner
had assured the commander-in-chief that the reduction of the city would
be an easy achievement. Alexander soon declared that the enterprise was
the most difficult one that he had ever undertaken. Yet, two years
before, he had carried to its triumphant conclusion the famous siege of
Antwerp. He stationed his own division upon the isle of Kadzand, and
strengthened his camp by additionally fortifying those shadowy bulwarks,
by which the island, since the age of Dante, had entrenched itself
against the assaults of ocean.

On the other hand, La Motte, by the orders of his chief, had succeeded,
after a sharp struggle, in carrying the fort of St. Anne. A still more
important step was the surprising of Blankenburg, a small fortified place
on the coast, about midway between Ostend and Sluys, by which the
sea-communications with the former city for the relief of the beleaguered
town were interrupted.

Parma's demonstrations against Sluys had commenced in the early days of
June. The commandant of the place was Arnold de Groenevelt, a Dutch noble
of ancient lineage and approved valour. His force was, however, very
meagre, hardly numbering more than eight hundred, all Netherlanders,
but counting among its officers several most distinguished
personages-Nicholas de Maulde, Adolphus de Meetkerke and his younger
brother, Captain Heraugiere, and other well-known partisans.

On the threatening of danger the commandant had made application to Sir
William Russell, the worthy successor of Sir Philip Sidney in the
government of Flushing. He had received from him, in consequence, a
reinforcement of eight hundred English soldiers, under several eminent
chieftains, foremost among whom were the famous Welshman Roger Williams,
Captain Huntley, Baskerville, Sir Francis Vere, Ferdinando Gorges, and
Captain Hart. This combined force, however, was but a slender one; there
being but sixteen hundred men to protect two miles and a half of rampart,
besides the forts and ravelins.

But, such as it was, no time was lost in vain regrets. The sorties
against the besiegers were incessant and brilliant. On one occasion Sir
Francis Vere--conspicuous in the throng, in his red mantilla, and
supported only by one hundred Englishmen and Dutchmen, under Captain
Baskerville--held at bay eight companies of the famous Spanish legion
called the Terzo Veijo, at push of pike, took many prisoners, and forced
the Spaniards from the position in which they were entrenching
themselves. On the other hand, Farnese declared that he had never in his
life witnessed anything so unflinching as the courage of his troops;
employed as they were in digging trenches where the soil was neither land
nor water, exposed to inundation by the suddenly-opened sluices, to a
plunging fire from the forts, and to perpetual hand-to-hand combats with
an active and fearless foe, and yet pumping away in the coffer-dams-which
they had invented by way of obtaining a standing-ground for their
operations--as steadily and sedately as if engaged in purely pacific
employments. The besieged here inspired by a courage equally remarkable.
The regular garrison was small enough, but the burghers were courageous,
and even the women organized themselves into a band of pioneers. This
corps of Amazons, led by two female captains, rejoicing in the names of
'May in the Heart' and 'Catherine the Rose,' actually constructed an
important redoubt between the citadel and the rampart, which received, in
compliment to its builders, the appellation of 'Fort Venus.'

The demands of the beleaguered garrison, however, upon the States and
upon Leicester were most pressing. Captain Hart swam thrice out of the
city with letters to the States, to the governor-general, and to Queen
Elizabeth; and the same perilous feat was performed several times by a
Netherland officer. The besieged meant to sell their lives dearly, but it
was obviously impossible for them, with so slender a force, to resist a
very long time.

"Our ground is great and our men not so many," wrote Roger Williams to
his sovereign, "but we trust in God and our valour to defend it. . . .
We mean, with God's help, to make their downs red and black, and to
let out every acre of our ground for a thousand of their lives, besides
our own."

The Welshman was no braggart, and had proved often enough that he was
more given to performances than promises. "We doubt not your Majesty will
succour us," he said, "for our honest mind and plain dealing toward your
royal person and dear country;" adding, as a bit of timely advice, "Royal
Majesty, believe not over much your peacemakers. Had they their mind,
they will not only undo your friend's abroad, but, in the end, your royal
estate."

Certainly it was from no want of wholesome warning from wise statesmen
and blunt soldiers that the Queen was venturing into that labyrinth of
negotiation which might prove so treacherous. Never had been so
inopportune a moment for that princess to listen to the voice of him who
was charming her so wisely, while he was at the same moment battering the
place, which was to be the basis of his operations against her realm. Her
delay in sending forth Leicester, with at least a moderate contingent, to
the rescue, was most pernicious. The States--ignorant of the Queen's
exact relations with Spain, and exaggerating her disingenuousness into
absolute perfidy became on their own part exceedingly to blame. There is
no doubt whatever that both Hollanders and English men were playing into
the hands of Parma as adroitly as if he had actually directed their
movements. Deep were the denunciations of Leicester and his partisans by
the States' party, and incessant the complaints of the English and Dutch
troops shut up in Sluys against the inactivity or treachery of Maurice
and Hohenlo.

"If Count Maurice and his base brother, the Admiral (Justinus de Nassau),
be too young to govern, must Holland and Zeeland lose their countries and
towns to make them expert men of war?" asked Roger Williams.' A pregnant
question certainly, but the answer was, that by suspicion and jealousy,
rather than by youth and inexperience, the arms were paralyzed which
should have saved the garrison. "If these base fellows (the States) will
make Count Hollock their instrument," continued the Welshman; "to cover
and maintain their folly and lewd dealing, is it necessary for her royal
Majesty to suffer it? These are too great matters to be rehearsed by me;
but because I am in the town, and do resolve to, sign with my blood my
duty in serving my sovereign and country, I trust her Majesty will pardon
me." Certainly the gallant adventurer on whom devolved at least half the
work of directing the defence of the city, had a right to express his
opinions. Had he known the whole truth, however, those opinions would
have been modified. And he wrote amid the smoke and turmoil of daily and
nightly battle.

"Yesterday was the fifth sally we made," he observed: "Since I followed
the wars I never saw valianter captains, nor willinger soldiers. At
eleven o'clock the enemy entered the ditch of our fort, with trenches
upon wheels, artillery-proof. We sallied out, recovered their trenches,
slew the governor of Dam, two Spanish captains, with a number of others,
repulsed them into their artillery, kept the ditch until yesternight, and
will recover it, with God's help, this night, or else pay dearly for it.
. . . I care not what may become of me in this world, so that her
Majesty's honour,--with the rest of honourable good friends, will think
me an honest man."

No one ever doubted the simple-hearted Welshman's honesty, any more than
his valour; but he confided in the candour of others who were somewhat
more sophisticated than himself. When he warned her, royal Majesty
against the peace-makers, it was impossible for him to know that the
great peace-maker was Elizabeth herself.

After the expiration of a month the work had become most fatiguing. The
enemy's trenches had been advanced close to the ramparts, and desperate
conflicts were of daily occurrence. The Spanish mines, too, had been
pushed forward towards the extensive wine-caverns below the city, and the
danger of a vast explosion or of a general assault from beneath their
very feet, seemed to the inhabitants imminent. Eight days long, with
scarcely an intermission, amid those sepulchral vaults, dimly-lighted
with torches, Dutchmen, Englishmen, Spaniards, Italians, fought hand to
hand, with pike, pistol, and dagger, within the bowels of the earth.

Meantime the operations of the States were not commendable. The
ineradicable jealousy between the Leicestrians and the Barneveldians had
done its work. There was no hearty effort for the relief of Sluys. There
were suspicions that, if saved, the town would only be taken possession
of by the Earl of Leicester, as an additional vantage-point for coercing
the country into subjection to his arbitrary authority. Perhaps it would
be transferred to Philip by Elizabeth as part of the price for peace.
There was a growing feeling in Holland and Zeeland that as those
Provinces bore all the expense of the war, it was an imperative necessity
that they should limit their operations to the defence of their own soil.
The suspicions as to the policy of the English government were sapping
the very foundations of the alliance, and there was small disposition on
the part of the Hollanders, therefore, to protect what remained of
Flanders, and thus to strengthen the hands of her whom they were
beginning to look upon as an enemy.

Maurice and Hohenlo made, however, a foray into Brabant, by way of
diversion to the siege of Sluys, and thus compelled Farnese to detach a
considerable force under Haultepenne into that country, and thereby to
weaken himself. The expedition of Maurice was not unsuccessful. There was
some sharp skirmishing between Hohenlo and Haultepenne, in which the
latter, one of the most valuable and distinguished generals on the royal
side, was defeated and slain; the fort of Engel, near Bois-le-Duc, was
taken, and that important city itself endangered; but, on the other hand,
the contingent on which Leicester relied from the States to assist in
relieving Sluys was not forthcoming.

For, meantime, the governor-general had at last been sent back by his
sovereign to the post which he had so long abandoned. Leaving Leicester
House on the 4th July (N. S.), he had come on board the fleet two days
afterwards at Margate. He was bringing with him to the Netherlands three
thousand fresh infantry, and thirty thousand pounds, of which sum fifteen
thousand pounds had been at last wrung from Elizabeth as an extra loan,
in place of the sixty thousand pounds which the States had requested. As
he sailed past Ostend and towards Flushing, the Earl was witness to the
constant cannonading between the besieged city and the camp of Farnese,
and saw that the work could hardly be more serious; for in one short day
more shots were fired than had ever been known before in a single day in
all Parma's experience.

Arriving at Flushing, the governor-general was well received by the
inhabitants; but the mischief, which had been set a-foot six months
before, had done its work. The political intrigues, disputes, and the
conflicting party-organizations, have already been set in great detail
before the reader, in order that their effect might now be thoroughly
understood without--explanation. The governor-general came to Flushing at
a most critical moment. The fate of all the Spanish Netherlands, of
Sluys, and with it the whole of Philip and Parma's great project, were,
in Farnese's own language, hanging by a thread.

It would have been possible--had the transactions of the past six months,
so far as regarded Holland and England, been the reverse of what they had
been--to save the city; and, by a cordial and united effort, for the two
countries to deal the Spanish power such a blow, that summer, as would
have paralyzed it for a long time to come, and have placed both
commonwealths in comparative security.

Instead of all this, general distrust and mutual jealousy prevailed.
Leicester had, previously to his departure from England, summoned the
States to meet him at Dort upon his arrival. Not a soul appeared. Such of
the state-councillors as were his creatures came to him, and Count
Maurice made a visit of ceremony. Discussions about a plan for relieving
the siege became mere scenes of bickering and confusion. The officers
within Sluys were desirous that a fleet should force its way into the
harbour, while, at the same time, the English army, strengthened by the
contingent which Leicester had demanded from the States, should advance
against the Duke of Parma by land. It was, in truth, the only way to
succour the place. The scheme was quite practicable. Leicester
recommended it, the Hollanders seemed to favour it, Commandant Groenevelt
and Roger Williams urged it.

"I do assure you," wrote the honest Welshman to Leicester, "if you will
come afore this town, with as many galliots and as many flat-bottomed
boats as can cause two men-of-war to enter, they cannot stop their
passage, if, your mariners will do a quarter of their duty, as I saw them
do divers times. Before, they make their entrance, we will come with our
boats, and fight with the greatest part, and show them there is no such
great danger. Were it not for my wounded arm, I would be, in your first
boat to enter. Notwithstanding, I and other Englishmen will approach
their boats in such sort, that we will force them to give their saker of
artillery upon us. If, your Excellency will give ear unto those false
lewd fellows (the Captain meant the States-General), you shall lose great
opportunity. Within ten or twelve days the enemy will make his bridge
from Kadzand unto St. Anne, and force you to hazard battle before you
succour this town. Let my Lord Willoughby and Sir William Russell land at
Terhoven, right against Kadzand, with 4000, and entrench hard by the
waterside, where their boats can carry them victual and munition. They
may approach by trenches without engaging any dangerous fight . . . . We
dare not show the estate of this town more than we have done by Captain
Herte. We must fight this night within our rampart in the fort. You may
sure the world here are no Hamerts, but valiant captains and valiant
soldiers, such as, with God's help, had rather be buried in the place
than be disgraced in any point that belongs to such a number of
men-of-war."

But in vain did the governor of the place, stout Arnold Froenevelt,
assisted by the rough and direct eloquence of Roger Williams, urge upon
the Earl of Leicester and the States-General the necessity and the
practicability of the plan proposed. The fleet never entered the harbour.
There was no William of Orange to save Antwerp and Sluys, as Leyden had
once been saved, and his son was not old enough to unravel the web of
intrigue by which he was surrounded, or to direct the whole energies of
the commonwealth towards an all-important end. Leicester had lost all
influence, all authority, nor were his military abilities equal to the
occasion, even if he had been cordially obeyed.

Ten days longer the perpetual battles on the ramparts and within the
mines continued, the plans conveyed by the bold swimmer, Captain Hart,
for saving the place were still unattempted, and the city was tottering
to its fall. "Had Captain Hart's words taken place," wrote Williams,
bitterly, "we had been succoured, or, if my letters had prevailed, our
pain had been, no peril: All wars are best executed in sight of the enemy
. . . . The last night of June (10th July, N. S.) the enemy entered the
ditches of our fort in three several places, continuing in fight in mine
and on rampart for the space of eight nights. The ninth; he battered us
furiously, made a breach of five score paces suitable for horse and man.
That day be attempted us in all, places with a general, assault for the
space of almost five hours."

The citadel was now lost. It had been gallantly defended; and it was
thenceforth necessary to hold the town itself, in the very teeth of an
overwhelming force. "We were forced to quit the fort," said-Sir Roger,
"leaving nothing behind us but bare earth. But here we do remain
resolutely to be buried, rather than to be dishonoured in the least
point."

It was still possible for the fleet to succour the city. "I do assure
you," said-Williams, "that your captains and mariners do not their duty
unless they enter with no great loss; but you must consider that no wars
may be made without danger. What you mean to do, we beseech you to do
with expedition, and persuade yourself that we will die valiant,
honest-men. Your Excellency will do well to thank the old President de
Meetkerk far the honesty and valour of his son."

Count Maurice and his natural brother, the Admiral, now undertook the
succour by sea; but, according to the Leicestrians, they continued
dilatory and incompetent. At any rate, it is certain that they did
nothing. At last, Parma had completed the bridge; whose construction, was
so much dreaded: The haven was now enclosed by a strong wooden structure,
resting an boats, on a plan similar to that of the famous bridge with
which he had two years before bridled the Scheldt, and Sluys was thus
completely shut in from the sea. Fire-ships were now constructed, by
order of Leicester--feeble imitations: of the floating volcanoes of
Gianihelli--and it was agreed that they should be sent against the bridge
with the first flood-tide. The propitious moment never seemed to arrive,
however, and, meantime, the citizens of Flushing, of their own accord,
declared that they would themselves equip and conduct a fleet into the
harbour of Sluys. But the Nassaus are said to have expressed great
disgust that low-born burghers should presume to meddle with so important
an enterprise, which of right belonged to their family. Thus, in the
midst of these altercations and contradictory schemes; the month of July
wore away, and the city was reduced to its last gasp.

For the cannonading had thoroughly done its work. Eighteen days long the
burghers and what remained of the garrison had lived upon the ramparts,
never leaving their posts, but eating, sleeping, and fighting day and
night. Of the sixteen hundred Dutch and English but seven hundred
remained. At last a swimming messenger was sent out by the besieged with
despatches for the States, to the purport that the city could hold out no
longer. A breach in the wall had been effected wide enough to admit a
hundred men abreast. Sluys had, in truth, already fallen, and it was
hopeless any longer to conceal the fact. If not relieved within a day or
two, the garrison would be obliged to surrender; but they distinctly
stated, that they had all pledged themselves, soldiers and burghers, men,
women, and all, unless the most honourable terms were granted, to set
fire to the city in a hundred places, and then sally, in mass, from the
gates, determined to fight their way through, or be slain in the attempt.
The messenger who carried these despatches was drowned, but the letters
were saved, and fell into Parma's hands.

At the same moment, Leicester was making, at last, an effort to raise the
siege. He brought three or four thousand men from Flushing, and landed
them at Ostend; thence he marched to Blanckenburg. He supposed that if he
could secure that little port, and thus cut the Duke completely off from
the sea, he should force the Spanish commander to raise (or at least
suspend) the siege in order to give him battle. Meantime, an opportunity
would be afforded for Maurice and Hohenlo to force an entrance into the
harbour of Sluys, In this conjecture he was quite correct; but
unfortunately he did not thoroughly carry out his own scheme. If the Earl
had established himself at Blanckenburg, it would have been necessary for
Parma--as he himself subsequently declared-to raise the siege. Leicester
carried the outposts of the place successfully; but, so soon as Farnese
was aware of this demonstration, he detached a few companies with orders
to skirmish with the enemy until the commander-in-chief, with as large a
force as he could spare, should come in person to his support. To the
unexpected gratification of Farnese, however, no sooner did the advancing
Spaniards come in sight, than the Earl, supposing himself invaded by the
whole of the Duke's army, under their famous general, and not feeling
himself strong enough for such an encounter, retired, with great
precipitation, to his boats, re-embarked his troops with the utmost
celerity, and set sail for Ostend.

The next night had been fixed for sending forth the fireships against the
bridge, and for the entrance of the fleet into the harbour. One fire-ship
floated a little way towards the bridge and exploded ingloriously.
Leicester rowed in his barge about the fleet, superintending the
soundings and markings of the channel, and hastening the preparations;
but, as the decisive moment approached, the pilots who had promised to
conduct the expedition came aboard his pinnace and positively refused to
have aught to do with the enterprise, which they now declared an
impossibility. The Earl was furious with the pilots, with Maurice, with
Hohenlo, with Admiral de Nassau, with the States, with all the world. He
stormed and raged and beat his breast, but all in vain. His ferocity
would have been more useful the day before, in face of the Spaniards,
than now, against the Zeeland mariners: but the invasion by the fleet
alone, unsupported by a successful land-operation, was pronounced
impracticable, and very soon the relieving fleet was seen by the
distressed garrison sailing away from the neighbourhood, and it soon
disappeared beneath the horizon. Their fate was sealed. They entered into
treaty with Parma, who, secretly instructed, as has been seen, of their
desperate intentions, in case any but the most honourable conditions were
offered, granted those conditions. The garrison were allowed to go out
with colours displayed, lighted matches, bullet in mouth, and with bag
and baggage. Such burghers as chose to conform to the government of Spain
and the church of Rome; were permitted to remain. Those who preferred to
depart were allowed reasonable time to make their necessary arrangements.

"We have hurt and slain very near eight hundred," said Sir Roger
Williams. "We had not powder to fight two hours. There was a breach of
almost four hundred paces, another of three score, another of fifty,
saltable for horse and men. We had lain continually eighteen nights all
on the breaches. He gave us honourable composition. Had the state of
England lain on it, our lives could not defend the place, three hours,
for half the rampires were his, neither had we any pioneers but
ourselves. We were sold by their negligence who are now angry with us."

On the 5th August Parma entered the city. Roger Williams with his gilt
morion rather battered, and his great plume of feathers much
bedraggled-was a witness to the victor's entrance. Alexander saluted
respectfully an officer so well known to him by reputation, and with some
complimentary remarks urged him to enter the Spanish service, and to take
the field against the Turks.

"My sword," replied the doughty Welshman, "belongs to her royal Majesty,
Queen Elizabeth, above and before all the world. When her Highness has no
farther use for it, it is at the service of the King of Navarre."
Considering himself sufficiently answered, the Duke then requested Sir
Roger to point out Captain Baskerville--very conspicuous by a greater
plume of feathers than even that of the Welshman himself--and embraced
that officer; when presented to him, before all his staff. "There serves
no prince in Europe a braver man than this Englishman," cried Alexander,
who well knew how to appreciate high military qualities, whether in his
own army or in that of his foes.

The garrison then retired, Sluy's became Spanish, and a capacious
harbour, just opposite the English coast, was in Parma's hands. Sir Roger
Williams was despatched by Leicester to bear the melancholy tidings to
his government, and the Queen was requested to cherish the honest
Welshman, and at least to set him on horseback; for he was of himself not
rich enough to buy even a saddle. It is painful to say that the captain
did not succeed in getting the horse.

The Earl was furious in his invectives against Hohenlo, against Maurice,
against the States, uniformly ascribing the loss of Sluy's to negligence
and faction. As for Sir John Norris, he protested that his misdeeds in
regard to this business would, in King Henry VIII.'s time, have "cost him
his pate."

The loss of Sluys was the beginning and foreshadowed the inevitable end
of Leicester's second administration. The inaction of the States was one
of the causes of its loss. Distrust of Leicester was the cause of the
inaction. Sir William Russell, Lord Willoughby, Sir William Pelham, and
other English officers, united in statements exonerating the Earl from
all blame for the great failure to relieve the place. At the same time,
it could hardly be maintained that his expedition to Blanckenburg and his
precipitate retreat on the first appearance of the enemy were proofs of
consummate generalship. He took no blame to himself for the disaster; but
he and his partisans were very liberal in their denunciations of the
Hollanders, and Leicester was even ungrateful enough to censure Roger
Williams, whose life had been passed, as it were, at push of pike with
the Spaniards, and who was one of his own most devoted adherents.

The Queen was much exasperated when informed of the fall of the city. She
severely denounced the Netherlanders, and even went so far as to express
dissatisfaction with the great Leicester himself. Meantime, Farnese was
well satisfied with his triumph, for he had been informed that "all
England was about to charge upon him," in order to relieve the place. All
England, however, had been but feebly represented by three thousand raw
recruits with a paltry sum of L15,000 to help pay a long bill of arrears.

Wilkes and Norris had taken their departure from the Netherlands before
the termination of the siege, and immediately after the return of
Leicester. They did not think it expedient to wait upon the governor
before leaving the country, for they had very good reason to believe that
such an opportunity of personal vengeance would be turned to account by
the Earl. Wilkes had already avowed his intention of making his escape
without being dandled with leave-takings, and no doubt he was right. The
Earl was indignant when he found that they had given him the slip, and
denounced them with fresh acrimony to the Queen, imploring her to wreak
full measure of wrath upon their heads; and he well knew that his
entreaties would meet with the royal attention.

Buckhurst had a parting interview with the governor-general, at which
Killigrew and Beale, the new English counsellors who had replaced Wilkes
and Clerk, were present. The conversation was marked by insolence on the
part of Leicester, and by much bitterness on that of Buckhurst. The
parting envoy refused to lay before the Earl a full statement of the
grievances between the States-General and the governor, on the ground
that Leicester had no right to be judge in his own cause. The matter, he
said, should be laid before the Queen in council, and by her august
decision he was willing to abide. On every other subject he was ready to
give any information in his power. The interview lasted a whole forenoon
and afternoon. Buckhurst, according to his own statement, answered,
freely all questions put to him by Leicester and his counsellors; while,
if the report of those personages is to be trusted, he passionately
refused to make any satisfactory communication. Under the circumstances,
however, it may well be believed that no satisfactory communication was
possible.

On arriving in England, Sir John Norris was forbidden to come into her
Majesty's presence, Wilkes was thrown into the Fleet Prison, and
Buckhurst was confined in his own country house.

Norris had done absolutely nothing, which, even by implication, could be
construed into a dereliction of duty; but it was sufficient that he was
hated by Leicester, who had not scrupled, over and over again, to
denounce this first general of England as a fool, a coward, a knave, and
a liar.

As for Wilkes, his only crime was a most conscientious discharge of his
duty, in the course of which he had found cause to modify his abstract
opinions in regard to the origin of sovereignty, and had come reluctantly
to the conviction that Leicester's unpopularity had made perhaps another
governor-general desirable. But this admission had only been made
privately and with extreme caution; while, on the other hand, he had
constantly defended the absent Earl, with all the eloquence at his
command. But the hatred cf Leicester was sufficient to consign this able
and painstaking public servant to a prison; and thus was a man of worth,
honour, and talent, who had been placed in a position of grave
responsibility and immense fatigue, and who had done his duty like an
upright, straight-forward Englishman, sacrificed to the wrath of a
favourite. "Surely, Mr. Secretary," said the Earl, "there was never a
falser creature, a more seditious wretch, than Wilkes. He is a villain, a
devil, without faith or religion."

As for Buckhurst himself, it is unnecessary to say a word in his defence.
The story of his mission has been completely detailed from the most
authentic and secret documents, and there is not a single line written to
the Queen, to her ministers, to the States, to any public body or to any
private friend, in England or elsewhere, that does not reflect honour on
his name. With sagacity, without passion, with unaffected sincerity, he
had unravelled the complicated web of Netherland politics, and, with
clear vision, had penetrated the designs of the mighty enemy whom England
and Holland had to encounter in mortal combat. He had pointed out the
errors of the Earl's administration--he had fearlessly, earnestly, but
respectfully deplored the misplaced parsimony of the Queen--he had warned
her against the delusions which had taken possession of her keen
intellect--he had done--his best to place the governor-general upon good
terms with the States and with his sovereign; but it had been impossible
for him to further his schemes for the acquisition of a virtual
sovereignty over the Netherlands, or to extinguish the suspicions of the
States that the Queen was secretly negotiating with the Spaniard, when he
knew those suspicions to be just.

For deeds, such as these, the able and high-minded ambassador, the
accomplished statesman and poet, was forbidden to approach his
sovereign's presence, and was ignominiously imprisoned in his own house
until the death of Leicester. After that event, Buckhurst emerged from
confinement, received the order of the garter and the Earldom of Dorset,
and on the death of Burghley succeeded that statesman in the office of
Lord-Treasurer. Such was the substantial recognition of the merits of a
man who was now disgraced for the conscientious discharge of the most
important functions that had yet been confided to him.

It would be a thankless and superfluous task to give the details of the
renewed attempt, during a few months, made by Leicester to govern the
Provinces. His second administration consisted mainly of the same
altercations with the States, on the subject of sovereignty, the same
mutual recriminations and wranglings, that had characterized the period
of his former rule. He rarely met the States in person, and almost never
resided at the Hague, holding his court at Middleburg, Dort, or Utrecht,
as his humour led him.

The one great feature of the autumn of 1587 was the private negotiation
between Elizabeth and the Duke of Parma.

Before taking a glance at the nature of those secrets, however, it is
necessary to make a passing allusion to an event which might have seemed
likely to render all pacific communications with Spain, whether secret or
open, superfluous.

For while so much time had been lost in England and Holland, by
misunderstandings and jealousies, there was one Englishman who had not
been losing time. In the winter and early spring of 1587, the Devonshire
skipper had organized that expedition which he had come to the
Netherlands, the preceding autumn, to discuss. He meant to aim a blow at
the very heart of that project which Philip was shrouding with so much
mystery, and which Elizabeth was attempting to counteract by so much
diplomacy.

On the 2nd April, Francis Drake sailed from Plymouth with four ships
belonging to the Queen, and with twenty-four furnished by the merchants
of London, and other private individuals. It was a bold buccaneering
expedition--combining chivalrous enterprise with the chance of enormous
profit--which was most suited to the character of English adventurers at
that expanding epoch. For it was by England, not by Elizabeth, that the
quarrel with Spain was felt to be a mortal one. It was England, not its
sovereign, that was instinctively arming, at all points, to grapple with
the great enemy of European liberty. It was the spirit of self-help, of
self-reliance, which was prompting the English nation to take the great
work of the age into its own hands. The mercantile instinct of the nation
was flattered with the prospect of gain, the martial quality of its
patrician and of its plebeian blood was eager to confront danger, the
great Protestant mutiny. Against a decrepit superstition in combination
with an aggressive tyranny, all impelled the best energies of the English
people against Spain, as the embodiment of all which was odious and
menacing to them, and with which they felt that the life and death
struggle could not long be deferred.

And of these various tendencies, there were no more fitting
representatives than Drake and Frobisher, Hawkins and Essex, Cavendish
and Grenfell, and the other privateersmen of the sixteenth century. The
same greed for danger, for gold, and for power, which, seven centuries
before, had sent the Norman race forth to conquer all Christendom, was
now sending its Anglo-Saxon and Anglo-Norman kindred to take possession
of the old world and the new.

"The wind commands me away," said Drake on the 2nd April, 1587; "our ship
is under sail. God grant that we may so live in His fear, that the enemy
may have cause to say that God doth fight for her Majesty abroad as well
as at home."

But he felt that he was not without enemies behind him, for the strong
influence brought to bear against the bold policy which Walsingham
favoured, was no secret to Drake. "If we deserve ill," said he, "let us
be punished. If we discharge our duty, in doing our best, it is a hard
measure to be reported ill by those who will either keep their fingers
out of the fire; or who too well affect that alteration in our government
which I hope in God they shall never live to see." In latitude 40 deg. he
spoke two Zeeland ships, homeward bound, and obtained information of
great warlike stores accumulating in Cadiz and Lisbon. His mind was
instantly made up. Fortunately, the pinnace which the Queen despatched
with orders to stay his hand in the very act of smiting her great
adversary, did not sail fast enough to overtake the swift corsair and his
fleet. Sir Francis had too promptly obeyed the wind, when it "commanded
him away," to receive the royal countermand. On the 19th April, the
English ships entered the harbour of Cadiz, and destroyed ten thousand
tons of shipping, with their contents, in the very face of a dozen great
galleys, which the nimble English vessels soon drove under their forts
for shelter. Two nights and a day, Sir Francis, that "hater of idleness,"
was steadily doing his work; unloading, rifling, scuttling, sinking, and
burning those transportships which contained a portion of the
preparations painfully made by Philip for his great enterprise.
Pipe-staves and spikes, horse-shoes and saddles, timber and cutlasses,
wine, oil, figs, raisins, biscuits, and flour, a miscellaneous mass of
ingredients long brewing for the trouble of England, were emptied into
the harbour, and before the second night, the blaze of a hundred and
fifty burning vessels played merrily upon the grim walls of Philip's
fortresses. Some of these ships were of the largest size then known.
There was one belonging to Marquis Santa Cruz of 1500 tons, there was a
Biscayan of 1200, there were several others of 1000, 800, and of nearly
equal dimensions.

Thence sailing for Lisbon, Sir Francis, captured and destroyed a hundred
vessels more, appropriating what was portable of the cargoes, and
annihilating the rest. At Lisbon, Marquis Santa Cruz, lord high admiral
of Spain and generalissimo of the invasion, looked on, mortified and
amazed, but offering no combat, while the Plymouth privateersman swept
the harbour of the great monarch of the world. After thoroughly
accomplishing his work, Drake sent a message to Santa Cruz, proposing to
exchange his prisoners for such Englishmen as might then be confined in
Spain. But the marquis denied all prisoners. Thereupon Sir Francis
decided to sell his captives to the Moors, and to appropriate the
proceeds of the sale towards the purchase of English slaves put of the
same bondage. Such was the fortune of war in the sixteenth century.

Having dealt these great blows, Drake set sail again from Lisbon, and,
twenty leagues from St. Michaels, fell in with one of those famous
Spanish East Indiamen, called carracks, then the great wonder of the
seas. This vessel, San Felipe by name, with a cargo of extraordinary
value, was easily captured, and Sir Francis now determined to return. He
had done a good piece of work in a few weeks, but he was by no means of
opinion that he had materially crippled the enemy. On the contrary, he
gave the government warning as to the enormous power and vast
preparations of Spain. "There would be forty thousand men under way ere
long," he said, "well equipped and provisioned;" and he stated, as the
result of personal observation, that England could not be too energetic
in, its measures of resistance. He had done something with his little
fleet, but he was no braggart, and had no disposition to underrate the
enemy's power. "God make us all thankful again and again," he observed,
"that we have, although it be little, made a beginning upon the coast of
Spain." And modestly as he spoke of what he had accomplished, so with
quiet self-reliance did he allude to the probable consequences. It was
certain, he intimated, that the enemy would soon seek revenge with all
his strength, and "with all the devices and traps he could devise." This
was a matter which could not be doubted. "But," said Sir Francis, "I
thank them much that they have staid so long, and when they come they
shall be but the sons of mortal men."

Perhaps the most precious result of the expedition, was the lesson which
the Englishmen had thus learned in handling the great galleys of Spain.
It might soon stand them in stead. The little war-vessels which had come
from Plymouth, had sailed round and round these vast unwieldy hulks, and
had fairly driven them off the field, with very slight damage to
themselves. Sir Francis had already taught the mariners of England, even
if he had done nothing else by this famous Cadiz expedition, that an
armada, of Spain might not be so invincible as men imagined.

Yet when the conqueror returned from his great foray, he received no
laurels. His sovereign met him, not with smiles, but with frowns and cold
rebukes. He had done his duty, and helped to save her endangered throne,
but Elizabeth was now the dear friend of Alexander Farnese, and in
amicable correspondence with his royal master. This "little" beginning on
the coast of Spain might not seem to his Catholic Majesty a matter to be
thankful for, nor be likely to further a pacification, and so Elizabeth
hastened to disavow her Plymouth captain.'

   ["True it is, and I avow it on my faith, her Majesty did send a ship
   expressly before he went to Cadiz with a message by letters charging
   Sir Francis Drake not to show any act of hostility, which messenger
   by contrary winds could never come to the place where he was, but
   was constrained to come home, and hearing of Sir F. Drake's actions,
   her Majesty commanded the party that returned to have been punished,
   but that he acquitted himself by the oaths of himself and all his
   company. And so unwitting yea unwilling to her Majesty those
   actions were committed by Sir F. Drake, for the which her Majesty is
   as yet greatly offended with him." Burghley to Andreas de Loo, 18
   July, 1587. Flanders Correspondence.' (S. P. Office MS.)]

     ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

     The blaze of a hundred and fifty burning vessels
     We were sold by their negligence who are now angry with us




CHAPTER XVII. 1587

   Secret Treaty between Queen and Parma--Excitement and Alarm in the
   States--Religious Persecution in England--Queen's Sincerity toward
   Spain--Language and Letters of Parma--Negotiations of De Loo--
   English Commissioners appointed--Parma's affectionate Letter to the
   Queen--Philip at his Writing-Table--His Plots with Parma against
   England--Parma's secret Letters to the King--Philip's Letters to
   Parma Wonderful Duplicity of Philip--His sanguine Views as to
   England--He is reluctant to hear of the Obstacles--and imagines
   Parma in England--But Alexander's Difficulties are great--He
   denounces Philip's wild Schemes--Walsingham aware of the Spanish
   Plot--which the States well understand--Leicester's great
   Unpopularity--The Queen warned against Treating--Leicester's Schemes
   against Barneveld--Leicestrian Conspiracy at Leyden--The Plot to
   seize the City discovered--Three Ringleaders sentenced to Death--
   Civil War in France--Victory gained by Navarre, and one by Guise--
   Queen recalls Leicester--Who retires on ill Terms with the States--
   Queen warned as to Spanish Designs--Result's of Leicester's
   Administration.

The course of Elizabeth towards the Provinces, in the matter of the
peace, was certainly not ingenuous, but it was not absolutely deceitful.
She concealed and denied the negotiations, when the Netherland statesmen
were perfectly aware of their existence, if not of their tenour; but she
was not prepared, as they suspected, to sacrifice their liberties and
their religion, as the price of her own reconciliation with Spain. Her
attitude towards the States was imperious, over-bearing, and abusive. She
had allowed the Earl of Leicester to return, she said, because of her
love for the poor and oppressed people, but in many of her official and
in all her private communications, she denounced the men who governed
that people as ungrateful wretches and impudent liars!

These were the corrosives and vinegar which she thought suitable for the
case; and the Earl was never weary in depicting the same statesmen as
seditious, pestilent, self-seeking, mischief-making traitors. These
secret, informal negotiations, had been carried on during most of the
year 1587. It was the "comptroller's peace;", as Walsingham
contemptuously designated the attempted treaty; for it will be
recollected that Sir James Croft, a personage of very mediocre abilities,
had always been more busy than any other English politician in these
transactions. He acted; however, on the inspiration of Burghley, who drew
his own from the fountainhead.

But it was in vain for the Queen to affect concealment. The States knew
everything which was passing, before Leicester knew. His own secret
instructions reached the Netherlands before he did. His secretary,
Junius, was thrown into prison, and his master's letter taken from him,
before there had been any time to act upon its treacherous suggestions.
When the Earl wrote letters with, his own hand to his sovereign, of so
secret a nature that he did not even retain a single copy for himself,
for fear of discovery, he found, to his infinite disgust, that the States
were at once provided with an authentic transcript of every line that he
had written. It was therefore useless, almost puerile, to deny facts
which were quite as much within the knowledge of the Netherlanders as of
himself. The worst consequence of the concealment was, that a deeper
treachery was thought possible than actually existed. "The fellow they
call Barneveld," as Leicester was in the habit of designating one of the
first statesmen in Europe, was perhaps justified, knowing what he did, in
suspecting more. Being furnished with a list of commissioners, already
secretly agreed upon between the English and Spanish governments, to
treat for peace, while at the same time the Earl was beating his breast,
and flatly denying that there was any intention of treating with Parma at
all, it was not unnatural that he should imagine a still wider and deeper
scheme than really existed, against the best interests of his country. He
may have expressed, in private conversation, some suspicions of this
nature, but there is direct evidence that he never stated in public
anything which was not afterwards proved to be matter of fact, or of
legitimate inference from the secret document which had come into his
hands. The Queen exhausted herself in opprobious language against those
who dared to impute to her a design to obtain possession of the cities
and strong places of the Netherlands, in order to secure a position in
which to compel the Provinces into obedience to her policy. She urged,
with much logic, that as she had refused the sovereignty of the whole
country when offered to her, she was not likely to form surreptitious
schemes to make herself mistress of a portion of it. On the other hand,
it was very obvious, that to accept the sovereignty of Philip's
rebellious Provinces, was to declare war upon Philip; whereas, had she
been pacifically inclined towards that sovereign, and treacherously
disposed towards the Netherlands, it would be a decided advantage to her
to have those strong places in her power. But the suspicions as to her
good faith were exaggerated. As to the intentions of Leicester, the
States were justified in their almost unlimited distrust. It is very
certain that both in 1586, and again, at this very moment, when Elizabeth
was most vehement in denouncing such aspersions on her government, he had
unequivocally declared to her his intention of getting possession, if
possible, of several cities, and of the whole Island of Walcheren, which,
together with the cautionary towns already in his power, would enable the
Queen to make good terms for herself with Spain, "if the worst came to
the worst." It will also soon be shown that he did his best to carry
these schemes into execution. There is no evidence, however, and no
probability, that he had received the royal commands to perpetrate such a
crime.

The States believed also, that in those secret negotiations with Parma
the Queen was disposed to sacrifice the religious interests of the
Netherlands. In this they were mistaken. But they had reason for their
mistake, because the negotiator De Loo, had expressly said, that, in her
overtures to Farnese, she had abandoned that point altogether. If this
had been so, it would have simply been a consent on the part of
Elizabeth, that the Catholic religion and the inquisition should be
re-established in the Provinces, to the exclusion of every other form of
worship or polity. In truth, however, the position taken by her Majesty
on the subject was as fair as could be reasonably expected. Certainly she
was no advocate for religious liberty. She chose that her own subjects
should be Protestants, because she had chosen to be a Protestant herself,
and because it was an incident of her supremacy, to dictate uniformity of
creed to all beneath her sceptre. No more than her father, who sent to
the stake or gallows heretics to transubstantiation as well as believers
in the Pope, had Elizabeth the faintest idea of religious freedom.
Heretics to the English Church were persecuted, fined, imprisoned,
mutilated, and murdered, by sword, rope, and fire. In some respects, the
practice towards those who dissented from Elizabeth was more immoral and
illogical, even if less cruel, than that to which those were subjected
who rebelled against Sixtus. The Act of Uniformity required Papists to
assist at the Protestant worship, but wealthy Papists could obtain
immunity by an enormous fine. The Roman excuse to destroy bodies in order
to save souls, could scarcely be alleged by a Church which might be
bribed into connivance at heresy, and which derived a revenue from the
very nonconformity for which humbler victims were sent to the gallows. It
would, however, be unjust in the extreme to overlook the enormous
difference in the amount of persecution, exercised respectively by the
Protestant and the Roman Church. It is probable that not many more than
two hundred Catholics were executed as such, in Elizabeth's reign, and
this was ten score too many. But what was this against eight hundred
heretics burned, hanged, and drowned, in one Easter week by Alva, against
the eighteen thousand two hundred went to stake and scaffold, as he
boasted during his administration, against the vast numbers of
Protestants, whether they be counted by tens or by hundreds of thousands,
who perished by the edicts of Charles V., in the Netherlands, or in the
single Saint Bartholomew Massacre in France? Moreover, it should never be
forgotten--from undue anxiety for impartiality--that most of the
Catholics who were executed in England, suffered as conspirators rather
than as heretics. No foreign potentate, claiming to be vicegerent of
Christ, had denounced Philip as a bastard and, usurper, or had, by means
of a blasphemous fiction, which then was a terrible reality, severed the
bonds of allegiance by which his subjects were held, cut him off from all
communion with his fellow-creatures, and promised temporal rewards and a
crown of glory in heaven to those who should succeed in depriving him of
throne and life. Yet this was the position of Elizabeth. It was war to
the knife between her and Rome, declared by Rome itself; nor was there
any doubt whatever that the Seminary Priests--seedlings transplanted from
foreign nurseries, which were as watered gardens for the growth of
treason--were a perpetually organized band of conspirators and assassins,
with whom it was hardly an act of excessive barbarity to deal in somewhat
summary fashion. Doubtless it would have been a more lofty policy, and a
far more intelligent one, to extend towards the Catholics of England, who
as a body were loyal to their country, an ample toleration. But it could
scarcely be expected that Elizabeth Tudor, as imperious and absolute by
temperament as her father had ever been, would be capable of embodying
that great principle.

When, in the preliminaries to the negotiations of 1587, therefore, it was
urged on the part of Spain, that the Queen was demanding a concession of
religious liberty from Philip to the Netherlanders which she refused to
English heretics, and that he only claimed the same right of dictating a
creed to his subjects which she exercised in regard to her own, Lord
Burghley replied that the statement was correct. The Queen permitted--it
was true--no man to profess any religion but the one which she professed.
At the same time it was declared to be unjust, that those persons in the
Netherlands who had been for years in the habit of practising Protestant
rites, should be suddenly compelled, without instruction, to abandon that
form of worship. It was well known that many would rather die than submit
to such oppression, and it was affirmed that the exercise of this cruelty
would be resisted by her to the uttermost. There was no hint of the
propriety--on any logical basis--of leaving the question of creed as a
matter between man and his Maker, with which any dictation on the part of
crown or state was an act of odious tyranny. There was not even a
suggestion that the Protestant doctrines were true, and the Catholic
doctrines false. The matter was merely taken up on the 'uti possidetis'
principle, that they who had acquired the fact of Protestant worship had
a right to retain it, and could not justly be deprived of it, except by
instruction and persuasion. It was also affirmed that it was not the
English practice to inquire into men's consciences. It would have been
difficult, however, to make that very clear to Philip's comprehension,
because, if men, women, and children, were scourged with rods, imprisoned
and hanged, if they refused to conform publicly to a ceremony at which
their consciences revolted-unless they had money enough to purchase
non-conformity--it seemed to be the practice to inquire very effectively
into their consciences.

But if there was a certain degree of disingenuousness on the part of
Elizabeth towards the States, her attitude towards Parma was one of
perfect sincerity. A perusal of the secret correspondence leaves n