After these festivities had been concluded, Parma set himself to

practical business. There had been a great opposition, during the

discussion of the articles of capitulation to the reconstruction of the

famous citadel. That fortress had been always considered, not as a

defence of the place against a foreign enemy, but as an instrument to

curb the burghers themselves beneath a hostile power. The city

magistrates, however, as well as the dean and chief officers in all the

guilds and fraternities, were at once changed by Parma--Catholics being

uniformly substituted for heretics. In consequence, it was not difficult

to bring about a change of opinion in the broad council. It is true that

neither Papists nor Calvinists regarded with much satisfaction the

prospect of military violence being substituted for civic rule, but in

the first effusion of loyalty, and in the triumph of the ancient

religion, they forgot the absolute ruin to which their own action was now

condemning their city. Champagny, who had once covered himself with glory

by his heroic though unsuccessful efforts to save Antwerp from the

dreadful "Spanish fury" which had descended from that very citadel, was

now appointed governor of the town, and devoted himself to the

reconstruction of the hated fortress. "Champagny has particularly aided

me," wrote Parma, "with his rhetoric and clever management, and has

brought the broad council itself to propose that the citadel should be

rebuilt. It will therefore be done, as by the burghers themselves,

without your Majesty or myself appearing to desire it."

This was, in truth, a triumph of "rhetoric and clever management," nor

could a city well abase itself more completely, kneeling thus cheerfully

at its conqueror's feet, and requesting permission to put the yoke upon

its own neck. "The erection of the castle has thus been determined upon,"

said Parma, "and I am supposed to know nothing of the resolution."

A little later he observed that they, were "working away most furiously

at the citadel, and that within a month it would be stronger than it ever

had been before."

The building went on, indeed, with astonishing celerity, the fortress

rising out of its ruins almost as rapidly, under the hands of the

royalists, as it had been demolished, but a few years before, by the

patriots. The old foundations still remained, and blocks of houses, which

had been constructed out of its ruins, were thrown down that the

materials might be again employed in its restoration.

The citizens, impoverished and wretched, humbly demanded that the expense

of building the citadel might be in part defrayed by the four hundred

thousand florins in which they had been mulcted by the capitulation. "I

don't marvel at this," said Parma, "for certainly the poor city is most

forlorn and poverty-stricken, the heretics having all left it." It was

not long before it was very satisfactorily established, that the presence

of those same heretics and liberty of conscience for all men, were

indispensable conditions for the prosperity of the great capital. Its

downfall was instantaneous. The merchants and industrious artisans all

wandered away from the place which had been the seat of a world-wide

traffic. Civilisation and commerce departed, and in their stead were the

citadel and the Jesuits. By express command of Philip, that order,

banished so recently, was reinstated in Antwerp, as well as throughout

the obedient provinces; and all the schools and colleges were placed

under its especial care. No children could be thenceforth instructed

except by the lips of those fathers. Here was a curb more efficacious

even than the citadel. That fortress was at first garrisoned with

Walloons and Germans. "I have not yet induced the citizens," said Parma,

"to accept a Spanish garrison, nor am I surprised; so many of them

remembering past events (alluding to the 'Spanish fury,' but not

mentioning it by name), and observing the frequent mutinies at the

present time. Before long, I expect, however, to make the Spaniards as

acceptable and agreeable as the inhabitants of the country themselves."

It may easily be supposed that Philip was pleased with the triumphs that

had thus been achieved. He was even grateful, or affected to be grateful,

to him who had achieved them. He awarded great praise to Alexander for

his exertions, on the memorable occasions of the attack upon the bridge,

and the battle of the Kowenstyn; but censured him affectionately for so

rashly exposing his life. "I have no words," he said, "to render the

thanks which are merited for all that you have been doing. I recommend

you earnestly however to have a care for the security of your person, for

that is of more consequence than all the rest."

After the news of the reduction of the city, he again expressed

gratification, but in rather cold language. "From such obstinate people,"

said he, "not more could be extracted than has been extracted; therefore

the capitulation is satisfactory." What more he wished to extract it

would be difficult to say, for certainly the marrow had been extracted

from the bones, and the dead city was thenceforth left to moulder under

the blight of a foreign garrison and an army of Jesuits. "Perhaps

religious affairs will improve before long," said Philip. They did

improve very soon, as he understood the meaning of improvement. A

solitude of religion soon brought with it a solitude in every other

regard, and Antwerp became a desert, as Sainte Aldegonde had foretold

would be the case.

The King had been by no means so calm, however, when the intelligence of

the capitulation first reached him at Madrid. On the contrary, his oldest

courtiers had never seen him exhibit such marks of hilarity.

When he first heard of the glorious victory at Lepanto, his countenance

had remained impassive, and he had continued in the chapel at the

devotional exercises which the messenger from Don John had interrupted.

Only when the news of the Massacre of St. Bartholomew first reached him,

had he displayed an amount of cheerfulness equal to that which he

manifested at the fall of Antwerp. "Never," said Granvelle, "had the King

been so radiant with joy as when he held in his hand the despatches which

announced the capitulation." The letters were brought to him after he had

retired to rest, but his delight was so great that he could not remain in

his bed. Rushing from his chamber, so soon as he had read them, to that

of his dearly-beloved daughter, Clara Isabella, he knocked loudly at the

door, and screaming through the keyhole the three words, "Antwerp is

ours," returned precipitately again to his own apartment.

It was the general opinion in Spain, that the capture of this city had

terminated the resistance of the Netherlands. Holland and Zeeland would,

it was thought, accept with very little hesitation the terms which Parma

had been offering, through the agency of Sainte Aldegonde; and, with the

reduction of those two provinces, the Spanish dominion over the whole

country would of course become absolute. Secretary Idiaquez observed, on

drawing up instructions for Carlo Coloma, a Spanish financier then

departing on special mission for the Provinces, that he would soon come

back to Spain, for the Prince of Parma was just putting an end to the

whole Belgic war.

Time was to show whether Holland and Zeeland were as malleable as

Antwerp, and whether there would not be a battle or two more to fight

before that Belgic war would come to its end. Meantime Antwerp was

securely fettered, while the spirit of commerce--to which its unexampled

prosperity had been due--now took its flight to the lands where civil and

religious liberty had found a home.

=====================================

NOTE on MARNIX DE SAINTE ALDEGONDE.

As every illustration of the career and character of this eminent

personage excites constant interest in the Netherlands, I have here

thrown together, in the form of an Appendix, many important and entirely

unpublished details, drawn mainly from the Archives of Simancas, and from

the State Paper Office and British Museum in London.

The ex-burgomaster seemed determined to counteract the policy of those

Netherlanders who wished to offer the sovereignty of the Provinces to the

English Queen. He had been earnestly in favour of annexation to France,

for his sympathies and feelings were eminently French. He had never been

a friend to England, and he was soon aware that a strong feeling of

indignation--whether just or unjust--existed against him both in that

country and in the Netherlands, on account of the surrender of Antwerp.

"I have had large conference with Villiers," wrote Sir John Norris to

Walsingham, "he condemneth Ste. Aldegonde's doings, but will impute it to

fear and not to malice. Ste. Aldegonde, notwithstanding that he was

forbidden to come to Holland, and laid for at the fleet, yet stole

secretly to Dort, where they say he is staid, but I doubt he will be

heard speak, and then assuredly he will do great hurt."

It was most certainly Sainte Aldegonde's determination, so soon as the

capitulation of Antwerp had been resolved upon, to do his utmost to

restore all the independent Provinces to their ancient allegiance. Rather

Spanish than English was his settled resolution. Liberty of religion, if

possible--that was his cherished wish--but still more ardently, perhaps,

did he desire to prevent the country from falling into the hands of

Elizabeth.

"The Prince of Parma hath conceived such an assured hope of the fidelity

of Aldegonde," wrote one of Walsingham's agents, Richard Tomson, "in

reducing the Provinces, yet enemies, into a perfect subjection, that the

Spaniards are so well persuaded of the man as if he had never been

against them. They say, about the middle of this month, he departed for

Zeeland and Holland, to prosecute the effect of his promises, and I am

the more induced to believe that he is become altogether Spanish, for

that the common bruit goeth that he hastened the surrendering of the town

of Antwerp, after he had intelligence of the coming of the English

succours."

There was naturally much indignation felt in the independent Provinces,

against all who had been thought instrumental in bringing about the

reduction of the great cities of Flanders. Famars, governor of Mechlin,

Van den Tympel, governor of Brussels, Martini, who had been active in

effecting the capitulation of Antwerp, were all arrested in Holland.

"From all that I can hear," said Parma, "it is likely that they will be

very severely handled, which is the reason why Ste. Aldegonde, although

he sent his wife and children to Holland, has not ventured thither

himself: It appears that they threaten him there, but he means now to go,

under pretext of demanding to justify himself from the imputations

against him. Although he tells me freely that, without some amplification

of the concessions hitherto made on the point of religion, he hopes for

no good result, yet I trust that he will do good offices in the meantime,

in spite of the difficulties which obstruct his efforts. On my part,

every exertion will be made, and not without hope of some fruit, if not

before, at least after, these people have become as tired of the English

as they were of the French."

Of this mutual ill-feeling between the English and the burgomaster, there

can be no doubt whatever. The Queen's government was fully aware of his

efforts to counteract its negotiation with the Netherlands, and to bring

about their reconciliation with Spain. When the Earl of Leicester--as

will soon be related--arrived in the Provinces, he was not long in

comprehending his attitude and his influence.

"I wrote somewhat of Sir Aldegonde in putting his case," wrote Leicester,

"but this is certain, I have the copy of his very letters sent hither to

practise the peace not two days before I came, and this day one hath told

me that loves him well, that he hates our countrymen unrecoverably. I am

sorry for it."

On the other hand, the Queen was very indignant with the man whom she

looked upon as the paid agent of Spain. She considered him a renegade,

the more dangerous because his previous services had been so illustrious.

"Her Majesty's mislike towards Ste. Aldegonde continueth," wrote

Walsingham to Leicester, "and she taketh offence that he was not

restrained of his liberty by your Lordship's order." It is unquestionable

that the exburgomaster intended to do his best towards effecting the

reconciliation of all the Provinces with Spain; and it is equally certain

that the King had offered to pay him well, if he proved successful in his

endeavours. There is no proof, however, and no probability that Sainte

Aldegonde ever accepted or ever intended to accept the proffered bribe.

On the contrary, his whole recorded career ought to disprove the

supposition. Yet it is painful, to find him, at this crisis, assiduous in

his attempts to undo the great work of his own life, and still more

distressing to find that great rewards were distinctly offered to him for

such service. Immense promises had been frequently made no doubt to

William the Silent; nor could any public man, in such times, be so pure

that an attempt to tamper with him might not be made: but when the

personage, thus solicited, was evidently acting in the interests of the

tempters, it is not surprising that he should become the object of grave

suspicion.

"It does not seem to me bad," wrote Philip to Parma, "this negotiation

which you have commenced with Ste. Aldegonde, in order to gain him, and

thus to employ his services in bringing about a reduction of the islands

(Holland and Zeeland). In exchange for this work, any thing which you

think proper to offer to him as a reward, will be capital well invested;

but it must not be given until the job is done."

But the job was hard to do, and Sainte Aldegonde cared nothing for the

offered bribe. He was, however, most strangely confident of being able to

overcome, on the one hand, the opposition of Holland and Zeeland to the

hated authority of Spain, and, on the other, the intense abhorrence

entertained by Philip to liberty of conscience.

Soon after the capitulation, he applied for a passport to visit those two

Provinces. Permission to come was refused him. Honest men from Antwerp,

he was informed, would be always welcome, but there was no room for him.

There was, however--or Parma persuaded himself that there was--a

considerable party in those countries in favour of reconciliation with

Spain. If the ex-burgomaster could gain a hearing, it was thought

probable that his eloquence would prove very effective.

"We have been making efforts to bring about negotiations with Holland and

Zeeland," wrote Alexander to Philip. "Gelderland and Overyssel likewise

show signs of good disposition, but I have not soldiers enough to animate

the good and terrify the bad. As for Holland and Zeeland, there is a

strong inclination on the part of the people to a reconciliation, if some

concession could be made on the religious question, but the governors

oppose it, because they are perverse, and are relying on assistance from

England. Could this religious concession be made, an arrangement could,

without doubt, be accomplished, and more quickly than people think.

Nevertheless, in such a delicate matter, I am obliged to await your

Majesty's exact instructions and ultimatum."

He then proceeded to define exactly the position and intentions of the

burgomaster.

"The government of Holland and Zeeland," he said, "have refused a

passport to Ste. Aldegonde, and express dissatisfaction with him for

having surrendered Antwerp so soon. They know that he has much credit

with the people and with the ministers of the sects, and they are in much

fear of him because he is inclined for peace, which is against their

interests. They are, therefore, endeavouring to counteract my

negotiations with him. These have been, thus far, only in general terms.

I have sought to induce him to perform the offices required, without

giving him reason to expect any concession as to the exercise of

religion. He persuades himself that, in the end, there will be some

satisfaction obtained upon this point, and, under this impression he

considers the peace as good as concluded, there remaining no doubt as to

other matters. He has sent his wife to Zeeland, and is himself going to

Germany, where, as he says, he will do all the good service that he can.

He hopes that very shortly the Provinces will not only invite, but

implore him to come to them; in which case, he promises me to perform

miracles."

Alexander then proceeded to pay a distinct tribute to Sainte Aldegonde's

motives; and, when it is remembered that the statement thus made is

contained in a secret despatch, in cipher, to the King, it may be assumed

to convey the sincere opinion of the man most qualified to judge

correctly as to this calumniated person's character.

"Ste. Aldegonde offers me wonders," he said, "and I have promised him

that he shall be recompensed very largely; yet, although he is poor, I do

not find him influenced by mercenary or selfish considerations, but only

very set in opinions regarding his religion."

The Prince had however no doubt of Sainte Aldegonde's sincerity, for

sincerity was a leading characteristic of the man. His word, once given,

was sacred, and he had given his word to do his best towards effecting a

reconciliation of the Provinces with Spain, and frustrating the efforts

of England. "Through the agency of Ste. Aldegonde and that of others"

wrote Parma, "I shall watch, day and night, to bring about a reduction of

Holland and Zeeland, if humanly possible. I am quite persuaded that they

will soon be sick of the English, who are now arriving, broken down,

without arms or money, and obviously incapable of holding out very long.

Doubtless, however, this English alliance, and the determination of the

Queen to do her utmost against us, complicates matters, and assists the

government of Holland and Zeeland in opposing the inclinations of their

people."

Nothing ever came of these intended negotiations. The miracles were never

wrought, and even had Sainte Aldegonde been as venal as he was suspected

of being--which we have thus proof positive that he was not--he never

could have obtained the recompense, which, according to Philip's thrifty

policy, was not to be paid until it had been earned. Sainte Aldegonde's

hands were clean. It is pity that we cannot render the same tribute to

his political consistency of character. It is also certain that he

remained--not without reason--for a long time under a cloud. He became

the object of unbounded and reckless calumny. Antwerp had fallen, and the

necessary consequence of its reduction was the complete and permanent

prostration of its commerce and manufactures. These were transferred to

the new, free, national, independent, and prosperous commonwealth that

had risen in the "islands" which Parma and Sainte Aldegonde had vainly

hoped to restore to their ancient servitude. In a very few years after

the subjugation of Antwerp, it appeared by statistical documents that

nearly all the manufactures of linen, coarse and fine cloths, serges,

fustians, tapestry, gold-embroidery, arms-work, silks, and velvets, had

been transplanted to the towns of Holland and Zeeland, which were

flourishing and thriving, while the Flemish and Brabantine cities had

become mere dens of thieves and beggars. It was in the mistaken hope of

averting this catastrophe--as melancholy as it was inevitable and in

despair of seeing all the Netherlands united, unless united in slavery,

and in deep-rooted distrust of the designs and policy of England, that

this statesman, once so distinguished, had listened to the insidious

tongue of Parma. He had sought to effect a general reconciliation with

Spain, and the only result of his efforts was a blight upon his own

illustrious name.

He published a defence of his conduct, and a detailed account of the

famous siege. His apology, at the time, was not considered conclusive,

but his narrative remains one of the clearest and most trustworthy

sources for the history of these important transactions. He was never

brought to trial, but he discovered, with bitterness, that he had

committed a fatal error, and that his political influence had passed

away. He addressed numerous private epistles to eminent persons,

indignantly denying the imputations against his character, and demanding

an investigation. Among other letters he observed in one to Count

Hohenlo, that he was astonished and grieved to find that all his faithful

labours and sufferings in the cause of his fatherland had been forgotten

in an hour. In place of praise and gratitude, he had reaped nothing but

censure and calumny; because men ever judged, not by the merits, but by

the issue. That common people should be so unjust, he said, was not to be

wondered at, but of men like Hohenlo be had hoped better things. He

asserted that he had saved Antwerp from another "Spanish fury," and from

impending destruction--a city in which there was not a single regular

soldier, and in which his personal authority was so slight that he was

unable to count the number of his masters. If a man had ever performed a

service to his country, he claimed to have done so in this capitulation.

Nevertheless, he declared that he was the same Philip Marnix, earnestly

devoted to the service of God, the true religion, and the fatherland;

although he avowed himself weary of the war, and of this perpetual

offering of the Netherland sovereignty to foreign potentates. He was now

going, he said, to his estates in Zeeland; there to turn farmer again;

renouncing public affairs, in the administration of which he had

experienced so much ingratitude from his countrymen. Count Maurice and

the States of Holland and Zeeland wrote to him, however, in very plain

language, describing the public indignation as so strong as to make it

unsafe for him to visit the country.

The Netherlands and England--so soon as they were united in policy--were,

not without reason, indignant with the man who had made such strenuous

efforts to prevent that union. The English were, in truth, deeply

offended. He had systematically opposed their schemes, and to his

prejudice against their country, and distrust of their intentions, they

attributed the fall of Antwerp. Envoy Davison, after his return to

Holland, on the conclusion of the English treaty, at once expressed his

suspicions of the ex-burgomaster, and the great dangers to be apprehended

from his presence in the free States. "Here is some working underhand,"

said he to Walsingham, "to draw hither Sainte Aldegonde, under a pretext

of his justification, which--as it has hitherto been denied him--so is

the sequel suspected, if he should obtain it before they were well

settled here, betwixt her Majesty and them, considering the manifold

presumptions that the subject of his journey should be little profitable

or advantageous to the state of these poor countries, as tending, at the

best, to the propounding of some general reconcilement." It was certainly

not without substantial grounds that the English and Hollanders, after

concluding their articles of alliance, felt uneasy at the possibility of

finding their plans reversed by the intrigues of a man whom they knew to

be a mediator between Spain and her revolted Provinces, and whom they

suspected of being a venal agent of the Catholic King. It was given out

that Philip had been induced to promise liberty of religion, in case of

reconciliation. We have seen that Parma was at heart in favour of such a

course, and that he was very desirous of inducing Marnix to believe in

the possibility of obtaining such a boon, however certain the Prince had

been made by the King's secret letters, that such a belief was a

delusion. "Martini hath been examined," wrote Davison, "who confesseth

both for himself and others, to become hither by direction of the Prince

of Parma and intelligence of Sainte Aldegonde, from whom he was first

addressed by Villiers and afterwards to others for advice and assistance.

That the scope of this direction was to induce them here to hearken to a

peace, wherein the Prince of Parma promiseth them toleration of religion,

although he confesseth yet to have no absolute power in that behalf, but

hath written thereof to the King expressly, and holdeth himself assured

thereof by the first post, as I have likewise been advertised from

Rowland York, which if it had been propounded openly here before things

had been concluded with her Majesty, and order taken for her assurance,

your honour can judge what confusion it must of necessity have brought

forth."

At last, when Marnix had become convinced that the toleration would not

arrive "by the very next mail from Spain," and that, in truth, such a

blessing was not to be expected through the post-office at all, he felt

an inward consciousness of the mistake which he had committed. Too

credulously had he inclined his ear to the voice of Parma; too

obstinately had he steeled his heart against Elizabeth, and he was now

the more anxious to clear himself at least from the charges of corruption

so clamorously made against him by Holland and by England. Conscious of

no fault more censurable than credulity and prejudice, feeling that his

long fidelity to the reformed religion ought to be a defence for him

against his calumniators, he was desirous both to clear his own honour,

and to do at least a tardy justice to England. He felt confident that

loyal natures, like those of Davison and his colleagues at home, would

recognize his own loyalty. He trusted, not without cause, to English

honour, and coming to his manor-house of Zoubourg, near Flushing, he

addressed a letter to the ambassador of Elizabeth, in which the strong

desire to vindicate his aspersed integrity is quite manifest.

"I am very joyous," said he, "that coming hither in order to justify

myself against the false and malignant imputations with which they charge

me, I have learned your arrival here on the part of her Majesty, as well

as the soon expected coming of the Earl of Leicester. I see, in truth,

that the Lord God is just, and never abandons his own. I have never

spared myself in the service of my country, and I would have sacrificed

my life, a thousand times, had it been possible, in her cause. Now, I am

receiving for all this a guerdon of blame and calumny, which is cast upon

me in order to cover up faults which have been committed by others in

past days. I hope, however, to come soon to give you welcome, and to

speak more particularly to you of all these things. Meantime demanding my

justification before these gentlemen, who ought to have known me better

than to have added faith to such villanous imputations, I will entreat

you that my definite justification, or condemnation, if I have merited

it, may be reserved till the arrival of Lord Leicester."

This certainly was not the language of a culprit, Nevertheless, his words

did not immediately make a deep impression on the hearts of those who

heard him. He had come secretly to his house at Zoubourg, having

previously published his memorable apology; and in accordance with the

wishes of the English government, he was immediately confined to his own

house. Confidence in the intention of a statesman, who had at least

committed such grave errors of judgment, and who had been so deeply

suspected of darker faults, was not likely very soon to revive. So far

from shrinking from an investigation which would have been dangerous,

even to his life, had the charges against his honour been founded in

fact, he boldly demanded to be confronted with his accusers, in order

that he might explain his conduct before all the world. "Sir,

yesternight, at the shutting of the gates," wrote Davison to Walsingham,

transmitting the little note from Marnix, which has just been cited--"I

was advertised that Ste. Aldegonde was not an hour before secretly landed

at the head on the other side the Rammekens, and come to his house at

Zoubourg, having prepared his way by an apology, newly published in his

defence, whereof I have as yet recovered one only copy, which herewith I

send your honour. This day, whilst I was at dinner, he sent his son unto

me, with a few lines, whereof I send you the copy, advertising me of his

arrival (which he knew I understood before), together with the desire he

had to see me, and speak with me, if the States, before whom he was to

come to purge himself of the crimes wherewith he stood, as he with,

unjustly charged, would vouchsafe him so much liberty. The same morning,

the council of Zeeland, taking knowledge of his arrival, sent unto him

the pensioner of Middelburgh and this town, to sound the causes of his

coming, and to will him, in their behalf, to keep his house, and to

forbear all meddling by word or writing, with any whatsoever, till they

should further advise and determine in his cause. In defence thereof, he

fell into large and particular discourse with the deputies, accusing his

enemies of malice and untruth, offering himself to any trial, and to

abide what punishment the laws should lay upon him, if he were found

guilty of the crimes imputed to him. Touching the cause of his coming, he

pretended and protested that he had no other end than his simple

justification, preferring any hazard he might incur thereby, to his

honour and good fame." As to the great question at issue, Marnix had at

last become conscious that he had been a victim to Spanish dissimulation,

and that Alexander Fainese was in reality quite powerless to make that

concession of religious liberty, without which a reconciliation between

Holland and Philip was impossible. "Whereas," said Davison, "it was

supposed that Ste. Aldegonde had commission from the Prince of Parma to

make some offer of peace, he assured them of the contrary as a thing

which neither the Prince had any power to yield unto with the surety of

religion, or himself would, in conscience, persuade without it; with a

number of other particularities in his excuse; amongst the rest, allowing

and commending in his speech, the course they had taken with her Majesty,

as the only safe way of deliverance for these afflicted

countries--letting them understand how much the news thereof--specially

since the entry of our garrison into this place (which before they would

in no sort believe), hath troubled the enemy, who doth what he may to

suppress the bruit thereof, and yet comforteth himself with the hope that

between the factions and partialities nourished by his industry, and

musters among the towns, especially in Holland and Zeeland (where he is

persuaded to find some pliable to a reconcilement) and the disorders and

misgovernment of our people, there will be yet occasion offered him to

make his profit and advantage. I find that the gentleman hath here many

friends indifferently persuaded of his innocency, notwithstanding the

closing up of his apology doth make but little for him. Howsoever it be,

it falleth out the better that the treaty with her Majesty is finished,

and the cautionary towns assured before his coming, which, if he be ill

affected, will I hope either reform his judgment or restrain his will. I

will not forget to do the best I can to sift and decipher him yet more

narrowly and particularly."

Thus, while the scales had at length fallen from the eyes of Marnix, it

was not strange that the confidence which he now began to entertain in

the policy of England, should not be met, at the outset, with a

corresponding sentiment on the part of the statesman by whom that policy

was regulated. "Howsoever Ste. Aldegonde would seem to purge himself,"

said Davison, "it is suspected that his end is dangerous. I have done

what I may to restrain him, so nevertheless as it may not seem to come

from me." And again--"Ste. Aldegonde," he wrote, "contimieth still our

neighbor at his house between this and Middelburg; yet unmolested. He

findeth many favourers, and, I fear, doth no good offices. He desireth to

be reserved till the coming of my Lord of Leicester, before whom he

pretends a desired trial."

This covert demeanour on the part of the ambassador was in accordance

with, the wishes of his government. It was thought necessary that Sainte

Aldegonde should be kept under arrest until the arrival of the Earl, but

deemed preferable that the restraint should proceed from the action of

the States rather than from the order of the Queen. Davison was

fulfilling orders in attempting, by underhand means, to deprive Marnix,

for a time, of his liberty. "Let him, I pray you, remain in good safety

in any wise," wrote Leicester, who was uneasy at the thought of so

influential, and, as he thought, so ill-affected a person being at large,

but at the same time disposed to look dispassionately upon his past

conduct, and to do justice, according to the results of an investigation.

"It is thought meet," wrote Walsingham to Davison, "that you should do

your best endeavour to procure that Ste. Aldegonde may be restrained,

which in mine opinion were fit to be handled in such sort, as the

restraint might rather proceed from themselves than by your solicitation.

And yet rather than he should remain at liberty to practise underhand,

whereof you seem to stand in great doubt, it is thought meet that you

should make yourself a partizan, to seek by all the means that you may to

have him restrained under the guard of some well affected patriot until

the Earl's coming, at what time his cause may receive examination."

This was, however, a result somewhat difficult to accomplish; for twenty

years of noble service in the cause of liberty had not been utterly in

vain, and there were many magnanimous spirits to sympathize with a great

man struggling thus in the meshes of calumny. That the man who challenged

rather than shunned investigation, should be thrown into prison, as if he

were a detected felon upon the point of absconding, seemed a heartless

and superfluous precaution. Yet Davison and others still feared the man

whom they felt obliged to regard as a baffled intriguer. "Touching the

restraint of Ste. Aldegonde," wrote Davison to Lord Burghley, "which I

had order from Mr. Secretary to procure underhand, I find the difficulty

will be great in regard of his many friends and favourers, preoccupied

with some opinion of his innocence, although I have travailled with

divers of them underhand, and am promised that some order shall be taken

in that behalf, which I think will be harder to execute as long as Count

Maurice is here. For Ste. Aldegonde's affection, I find continual matter

to suspect it inclined to a peace, and that as one notably prejudging our

scope and proceeding in this cause, doth lie in wait for an occasion to

set it forward, being, as it seems, fed with a hope of 'telle quelle

liberte de conscience,' which the Prince of Parma and others of his

council have, as he confesseth, earnestly solicited at the King's hands.

This appeareth, in truth, the only apt and easy way for them to prevail

both against religion and the liberty of these poor countries, having

thereby once recovered the authority which must necessarily follow a

peace, to renew and alter the magistrates of the particular towns, which,

being at their devotion, may turn, as we say, all upside down, and so in

an instant being under their servitude, if not wholly, at the least in a

great part of the country, leaving so much the less to do about the rest,

a thing confessed and looked for of all men of any judgment here, if the

drift of our peace-makers may take effect."

Sainte Aldegonde had been cured of his suspicions of England, and at last

the purity of his own character shone through the mists.

One winter's morning, two days after Christmas, 1585, Colonel Morgan, an

ingenuous Welshman, whom we have seen doing much hard fighting on

Kowenstyn Dyke, and at other places, and who now commanded the garrison

at Flushing, was taking a walk outside the gates, and inhaling the salt

breezes from the ocean. While thus engaged he met a gentleman coming

along, staff in hand, at a brisk pace towards the town, who soon proved

to be no other than the distinguished and deeply suspected Sainte

Aldegonde. The two got at once into conversation. "He began," said

Morgan, "by cunning insinuations, to wade into matters of state, and at

the last fell to touching the principal points, to wit, her Majesty's

entrance into the cause now in hand, which, quoth he, was an action of

high importance, considering how much it behoved her to go through the

same, as well in regard of the hope that thereby was given to the

distressed people of these parts, as also in consideration of that worthy

personage whom she hath here placed, whose estate and credit may not be

suffered to quail, but must be upholden as becometh the lieutenant of

such a princess as her Majesty."

"The opportunity thus offered," continued honest Morgan, "and the way

opened by himself, I thought good to discourse with him to the full,

partly to see the end and drift of his induced talk, and consequently to

touch his quick in the suspected cause of Antwerp." And thus, word for

word, taken down faithfully the same day, proceeded the dialogue that

wintry morning, near three centuries ago. From that simple

record--mouldering unseen and unthought of for ages, beneath piles of

official dust--the forms of the illustrious Fleming and the bold Welsh

colonel, seem to start, for a brief moment, out of the three hundred

years of sleep which have succeeded their energetic existence upon earth.

And so, with the bleak winds of December whistling over the breakers of

the North Sea, the two discoursed together, as they paced along the

coast.

Morgan.--"I charge you with your want of confidence in her Majesty's

promised aid. 'Twas a thing of no small moment had it been embraced when

it was first most graciously offered."

Sainte Aldegonde.--"I left not her prince-like purpose unknown to the

States, who too coldly and carelessly passed over the benefit thereof,

until it was too late to put the same in practice. For my own part, I

acknowledge that indeed I thought some further advice would either alter

or at least detract from the accomplishment of her determination. I

thought this the rather because she had so long been wedded to peace, and

I supposed it impossible to divorce her from so sweet a spouse. But, set

it down that she were resolute, yet the sickness of Antwerp was so

dangerous, as it was to be doubted the patient would be dead before the

physician could come. I protest that the state of the town was much worse

than was known to any but myself and some few private persons. The want

of victuals was far greater than they durst bewray, fearing lest the

common people, perceiving the plague of famine to be at hand, would

rather grow desperate than patiently expect some happy event. For as they

were many in number, so were they wonderfully divided: some being

Martinists, some Papists, some neither the one nor the other, but

generally given to be factious, so that the horror at home was equal to

the hazard abroad."

Morgan.--"But you forget the motion made by the martial men for putting

out of the town such as were simple artificers, with women and children,

mouths that consumed meat, but stood in no stead for defence."

Sainte Aldegonde.--"Alas, alas! would you have had me guilty of the

slaughter of so many innocents, whose lives were committed to my charge,

as well as the best? Or might I have answered my God when those massacred

creatures should have stood up against me, that the hope of Antwerp's

deliverance was purchased with the blood of so many simple souls? No, no.

I should have found my conscience such a hell and continual worm as the

gnawing thereof would have been more painful and bitter than the

possession of the whole world would have been pleasant."

Morgan continued to press the various points which had created suspicion

as to the character and motives of Marnix, and point by point Marnix

answered his antagonist, impressing him, armed as he had been in

distrust, with an irresistible conviction as to the loftiness of the

nature which had been so much calumniated.

Sainte Aldegonde (with vehemence).--"I do assure you, in conclusion, that

I have solemnly vowed service and duty to her Majesty, which I am ready

to perform where and when it may best like her to use the same. I will

add moreover that I have oftentimes determined to pass into England to

make my own purgation, yet fearing lest her Highness would mislike so

bold a resolution, I have checked that purpose with a resolution to tarry

the Lord's leisure, until some better opportunity might answer my desire.

For since I know not how I stand in her grace, unwilling I am to attempt

her presence without permission; but might it please her to command my

attendance, I should not only most joyfully accomplish the same, but also

satisfy her of and in all such matters as I stand charged with, and

afterwards spend life, land, and goods, to witness my duty towards her

Highness."

Morgan.--"I tell you plainly, that if you are in heart the same man that

you seem outwardly to be, I doubt not but her Majesty might easily be

persuaded to conceive a gracious opinion of you. For mine own part, I

will surely advertise Sir Francis Walsingham of as much matter as this

present conference hath ministered.

"Hereof," said the Colonel--when, according to his promise, faithfully

recording the conversation in all its details for Mr. Secretary's

benefit, "he seemed not only content but most glad. Therefore I beseech

your honour to vouchsafe some few lines herein, that I may return him

some part of your mind. I have already written thereof to Sir Philip

Sidney, lord governor of Flushing, with request that his Excellency the

Earl of Leicester may presently be made acquainted with the cause."

Indeed the brave Welshman was thoroughly converted from his suspicions by

the earnest language and sympathetic presence of the fallen statesman.

This result of the conference was creditable to the ingenuous character

of both personages.

"Thus did he," wrote Morgan to Sir Francis, "from point to point, answer

all objections from the first to the last, and that in such sound and

substantial manner, with a strong show of truth, as I think his very

enemies, having heard his tale, would be satisfied. And truly, Sir, as

heretofore I have thought hardly of him, being led by a superficial

judgment of things as they stood in outward appearance; so now, having

pierced deep, and weighed causes by a sounder and more deliberate

consideration, I find myself somewhat changed in conceit--not so much

carried away by the sweetness of his speech, as confirmed by the force of

his religious profession, wherein he remaineth constant, without

wavering--an argument of great strength to set him free from treacherous

attempts; but as I am herein least able and most unworthy to yield any

censure, much less to give advice, so I leave the man and the matter to

your honour's opinion. Only (your graver judgment reserved) thus I think,

that it were good either to employ him as a friend, or as an enemy to

remove him farther from us, being a man of such action as the world

knoweth he is. And to conclude," added Morgan, "this was the upshot

between us."

Nevertheless, he remained in this obscurity for a long period. When,

towards the close of the year 1585, the English government was

established in Holland, he was the object of constant suspicion.

"Here is Aldegonde," wrote Sir Philip Sidney to Lord Leicester from

Flushing, "a man greatly suspected, but by no man charged. He lives

restrained to his own house, and for aught I can find, deals with

nothing, only desiring to have his cause wholly referred to your

Lordship, and therefore, with the best heed I can to his proceedings, I

will leave him to his clearing or condemning, when your Lordship shall

hear him."

In another letter, Sir Philip again spoke of Sainte Aldegonde as "one of

whom he kept a good opinion, and yet a suspicious eye."

Leicester himself was excessively anxious on the subject, deeply fearing

the designs of a man whom he deemed so mischievous, and being earnestly

desirous that he should not elude the chastisement which he seemed to

deserve.

"Touching Ste. Aldegonde," he wrote to Davison, "I grieve that he is at

his house without good guard. I do earnestly pray you to move such as

have power presently to commit a guard about him, for I know he is a

dangerous and a bold man, and presumes yet to carry all, for he hath made

many promises to the Prince of Parma. I would he were in Fort Rammekyns,

or else that Mr. Russell had charge of him, with a recommendation from me

to Russell to look well to him till I shall arrive. You must have been so

commanded in this from her Majesty, for she thinks he is in close and

safe guard. If he is not, look for a turn of all things, for he hath

friends, I know."

But very soon after his arrival, the Earl, on examining into the matter,

saw fit to change his opinions and his language. Persuaded, in spite of

his previous convictions, even as the honest Welsh colonel had been, of

the upright character of the man, and feeling sure that a change had come

over the feelings of Marnix himself in regard to the English alliance,

Leicester at once interested himself in removing the prejudices

entertained towards him by the Queen.

"Now a few words for Ste. Aldegonde," said he in his earliest despatches

from Holland; "I will beseech her Majesty to stay her judgment till I

write next. If the man be as he now seemeth, it were pity to lose him,

for he is indeed marvellously friended. Her Majesty will think, I know,

that I am easily pacified or led in such a matter, but I trust so to deal

as she shall give me thanks. Once if he do offer service it is sure

enough, for he is esteemed that way above all the men in this country for

his word, if he give it. His worst enemies here procure me to win him,

for sure, just matter for his life there is none. He would fain come into

England, so far is he come already, and doth extol her Majesty for this

work of hers to heaven, and confesseth, till now an angel could not make

him believe it."

Here certainly was a noble tribute paid unconsciously, as it were, to the

character of the maligned statesman. "Above all the men in the country

for his word, if he give it." What wonder that Orange had leaned upon

him, that Alexander had sought to gain him, and how much does it add to

our bitter regret that his prejudices against England should not have

been removed until too late for Antwerp and for his own usefulness. Had

his good angel really been present to make him believe in that "work of

her Majesty," when his ear was open to the seductions of Parma, the

destiny of Belgium and his own subsequent career might have been more

fortunate than they became.

The Queen was slow to return from her prejudices. She believed--not

without reason--that the opposition of Ste. Aldegonde to her policy had

been disastrous to the cause both of England and the Netherlands; and it

had been her desire that he should be imprisoned, and tried for his life.

Her councillors came gradually to take a more favourable view of the

case, and to be moved by the pathetic attitude of the man who had once

been so conspicuous.

"I did acquaint Sir Christopher Hatton," wrote Walsingham to Leicester,

"with the letter which Ste. Aldegonde wrote to your Lordship, which,

carrying a true picture of an afflicted mind, cannot but move an honest

heart, weighing the rare parts the gentleman is endowed withal, to pity

his distressed estate, and, to procure him relief and comfort, which Mr.

Vice-Chamberlain (Hatton) bath promised on his part to perform. I thought

good to send Ste. Aldegonde's letter unto the Lord Treasurer (Burghley),

who heretofore has carried a hard conceit of the gentleman, hoping that

the view of his letter will breed some remorse towards him. I have also

prayed his Lordship, if he see cause, to acquaint her Majesty with the

said letter."

But his high public career was closed. He lived down calumny; and put his

enemies to shame, but the fatal error which he had committed, in taking

the side of Spain rather than of England at so momentous a crisis, could

never be repaired. He regained the good opinion of the most virtuous and

eminent personages in Europe, but in the noon of life he voluntarily

withdrew from public affairs. The circumstances just detailed had made

him impossible as a political leader, and it was equally impossible for

him to play a secondary part. He occasionally consented to be employed in

special diplomatic missions, but the serious avocations of his life now

became theological and literary. He sought--in his own words--to

penetrate himself still more deeply than ever with the spirit of the

reformation, and to imbue the minds of the young with that deep love for

the reformed religion which had been the guiding thought of his own

career. He often spoke with a sigh of his compulsory exile from the field

where he had been so conspicuous all his lifetime; he bitterly lamented

the vanished dream of the great national union between Belgium and

Holland, which had flattered his youth and his manhood; and he sometimes

alluded with bitterness to the calumny which had crippled him of his

usefulness. He might have played a distinguished part in that powerful

commonwealth which was so steadily and splendidly arising out of the

lagunes of Zeeland and Holland, but destiny and calumny and his own error

had decided otherwise.

"From the depth of my exile--" he said, "for I am resolved to retire, I

know not where, into Germany, perhaps into Sarmatia, I shall look from

afar upon the calamities of my country. That which to me is most mournful

is no longer to be able to assist my fatherland by my counsels and my

actions." He did not go into exile, but remained chiefly at his mansion

of Zoubourg, occupied with agriculture and with profound study. Many

noble works conspicuous in the literature of the epoch--were the results

of his learned leisure; and the name of Marnix of Sainte Aldegonde will

be always as dear to the lovers of science and letters as to the

believers in civil and religious liberty. At the request of the States of

Holland he undertook, in 1593, a translation of the Scriptures from the

original, and he was at the same time deeply engaged with a History of

Christianity, which he intended for his literary master-piece. The man

whose sword had done knightly service on many a battle-field for freedom,

whose tongue had controlled mobs and senates, courts and councils, whose

subtle spirit had metamorphosed itself into a thousand shapes to do

battle with the genius of tyranny, now quenched the feverish agitation of

his youth and manhood in Hebrew and classical lore. A grand and noble

figure always: most pathetic when thus redeeming by vigorous but solitary

and melancholy hard labor, the political error which had condemned him to

retirement. To work, ever to work, was the primary law of his nature.

Repose in the other world, "Repos ailleurs" was the device which he

assumed in earliest youth, and to which he was faithful all his days.

A great and good man whose life had been brim-full of noble deeds, and

who had been led astray from the path, not of virtue, but of sound

policy, by his own prejudices and by the fascination of an intellect even

more brilliant than his own, he at least enjoyed in his retirement

whatever good may come from hearty and genuine labor, and from the high

regard entertained for him by the noblest spirits among his

contemporaries.

"They tell me," said La Noue, "that the Seigneur de Ste. Aldegonde has

been suspected by the Hollanders and the English. I am deeply grieved,

for 'tis a personage worthy to be employed. I have always known him to be

a zealous friend of his religion and his country, and I will bear him

this testimony, that his hands and his heart are clean. Had it been

otherwise, I must have known it. His example has made me regret the less

the promise I was obliged to make, never to bear arms again in the

Netherlands. For I have thought that since this man, who has so much

credit and authority among your people, after having done his duty well,

has not failed to be calumniated and ejected from service, what would

they have done with me, who am a stranger, had I continued in their

employment? The consul Terentius Varro lost, by his fault, the battle of

Canna; nevertheless, when he returned to Rome, offering the remainder of

his life in the cause of his Republic reduced to extremity, he was not

rejected, but well received, because he hoped well for the country. It is

not to be imputed as blame to Ste. Aldegonde that he lost Antwerp, for he

surrendered when it could not be saved. What I now say is drawn from me

by the compassion I feel when persons of merit suffer without cause at

the hands of their fellow citizens. In these terrible tempests, as it is

a duty rigorously to punish the betrayers of their country, even so it is

an obligation upon us to honor good patriots, and to support them in

venial errors, that we may all encourage each other to do the right."

Strange too as it may now seem to us, a reconciliation of the Netherlands

with Philip was not thought an impossibility by other experienced and

sagacious patriots, besides Marnix. Even Olden-Barneveld, on taking

office as Holland's Advocate, at this period, made it a condition that

his service was to last only until the reunion of the Provinces with

Spain.

There was another illustrious personage in a foreign land who ever

rendered homage to the character of the retired Netherland statesman.

Amid the desolation of France, Duplessis Mornay often solaced himself by

distant communion with that kindred and sympathizing spirit.

"Plunged in public annoyances," he wrote to Sainte Aldegonde, "I find no

consolation, except in conference with the good, and among the good I

hold you for one of the best. With such men I had rather sigh profoundly

than laugh heartily with others. In particular, Sir, do me the honor to

love me, and believe that I honor you singularly. Impart to me something

from your solitude, for I consider your deserts to be more fruitful and

fertile than our most cultivated habitations. As for me, think of me as

of a man drowning in the anxieties of the time, but desirous, if

possible, of swimming to solitude."

Thus solitary, yet thus befriended,--remote from public employment, yet

ever employed, doing his daily work with all his soul and strength,

Marnix passed the fifteen years yet remaining to him. Death surprised him

at last, at Leyden, in the year 1598, while steadily laboring upon his

Flemish translation of the Old Testament, and upon the great political,

theological, controversial, and satirical work on the differences of

religion, which remains the most stately, though unfinished, monument of

his literary genius. At the age of sixty he went at last to the repose

which he had denied to himself on earth. "Repos ailleurs."

ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

Honor good patriots, and to support them in venial errors

Possible to do, only because we see that it has been done

Repose in the other world, "Repos ailleurs"

Soldiers enough to animate the good and terrify the bad

To work, ever to work, was the primary law of his nature

When persons of merit suffer without cause

HISTORY OF THE UNITED NETHERLANDS

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

By John Lothrop Motley

History United Netherlands, Volume 42, 1585

CHAPTER VI., Part 1.

Policy of England--Diplomatic Coquetry--Dutch Envoys in England--

Conference of Ortel and Walsingham--Interview with Leicester--

Private Audience of the Queen--Letters of the States--General--

Ill Effects of Gilpin's Despatch--Close Bargaining of the Queen and

States--Guarantees required by England--England's comparative

Weakness--The English characterised--Paul Hentzner--The Envoys in

London--Their Characters--Olden-Barneveldt described--Reception at

Greenwich--Speech of Menin--Reply of the Queen--Memorial of the

Envoys--Discussions with the Ministers--Second Speech of the Queen

--Third Speech of the Queen

England as we have seen--had carefully watched the negotiations between

France and the Netherlands. Although she had--upon the whole, for that

intriguing age--been loyal in her bearing towards both parties, she was

perhaps not entirely displeased with the result. As her cherished

triumvirate was out of the question, it was quite obvious that, now or

never, she must come forward to prevent the Provinces from falling back

into the hands of Spain. The future was plainly enough foreshadowed, and

it was already probable, in case of a prolonged resistance on the part of

Holland, that Philip would undertake the reduction of his rebellious

subjects by a preliminary conquest of England. It was therefore quite

certain that the expense and danger of assisting the Netherlands must

devolve upon herself, but, at the same time it was a consolation that her

powerful next-door neighbour was not to be made still more powerful by

the annexation to his own dominion of those important territories.

Accordingly, so soon as the deputies in France had received their

definite and somewhat ignominious repulse from Henry III. and his mother,

the English government lost no time in intimating to the States that they

were not to be left without an ally. Queen Elizabeth was however

resolutely averse from assuming that sovereignty which she was not

unwilling to see offered for her acceptance; and her accredited envoy at

the Hague, besides other more secret agents, were as busily employed in

the spring of 1585--as Des Pruneaux had been the previous winter on the

part of France--to bring about an application, by solemn embassy, for her

assistance.

There was, however, a difference of view, from the outset, between the

leading politicians of the Netherlands and the English Queen. The

Hollanders were extremely desirous of becoming her subjects; for the

United States, although they had already formed themselves into an

independent republic, were quite ignorant of their latent powers. The

leading personages of the country--those who were soon to become the

foremost statesmen of the new commonwealth--were already shrinking from

the anarchy which was deemed inseparable from a non-regal form of

government, and were seeking protection for and against the people under

a foreign sceptre. On the other hand, they were indisposed to mortgage

large and important fortified towns, such as Flushing, Brill, and others,

for the repayment of the subsidies which Elizabeth might be induced to

advance. They preferred to pay in sovereignty rather than in money. The

Queen, on the contrary, preferred money to sovereignty, and was not at

all inclined to sacrifice economy to ambition. Intending to drive a hard

bargain with the States, whose cause was her own, and whose demands for

aid she; had secretly prompted, she meant to grant a certain number of

soldiers for as brief a period as possible, serving at her expense, and

to take for such outlay a most ample security in the shape of cautionary

towns.

Too intelligent a politician not to feel the absolute necessity of at

last coming into the field to help the Netherlanders to fight her own

battle, she was still willing, for a season longer, to wear the mask of

coyness and coquetry, which she thought most adapted to irritate the

Netherlanders into a full compliance with her wishes. Her advisers in the

Provinces were inclined to take the same view. It seemed obvious, after

the failure in France, that those countries must now become either

English or Spanish; yet Elizabeth, knowing the risk of their falling

back, from desperation, into the arms of her rival, allowed them to

remain for a season on the edge of destruction--which would probably have

been her ruin also--in the hope of bringing them to her feet on her own

terms. There was something of feminine art in this policy, and it was not

without the success which often attends such insincere manoeuvres. At the

same time, as the statesmen of the republic knew that it was the Queen's

affair, when so near a neighbour's roof was blazing, they entertained

little doubt of ultimately obtaining her alliance. It was pity--in so

grave an emergency--that a little frankness could not have been

substituted for a good deal of superfluous diplomacy.

Gilpin, a highly intelligent agent of the English government in Zeeland,

kept Sir Francis Walsingham thoroughly informed of the sentiments

entertained by the people of that province towards England. Mixing

habitually with the most influential politicians, he was able to render

material assistance to the English council in the diplomatic game which

had been commenced, and on which a no less important stake than the crown

of England was to be hazarded.

"In conference," he said, "with particular persons that bear any rule or

credit, I find a great inclination towards her Majesty, joined

notwithstanding with a kind of coldness. They allege that matters of such

importance are to be maturely and thoroughly pondered, while some of them

harp upon the old string, as if her Majesty, for the security of her own

estate, was to have the more care of theirs here."

He was also very careful to insinuate the expediency of diplomatic

coquetry into the mind of a Princess who needed no such prompting. "The

less by outward appearance," said he, "this people shall perceive that

her Majesty can be contented to take the protection of them upon her, the

forwarder they will be to seek and send unto her, and the larger

conditions in treaty may be required. For if they see it to come from

herself, then do they persuade themselves that it is for the greater

security of our own country and her Highness to fear the King of Spain's

greatness. But if they become seekers unto her Majesty, and if they may,

by outward show, deem that she accounteth not of the said King's might,

but able and sufficient to defend her own realms, then verily I think

they may be brought to whatsoever points her Majesty may desire."

Certainly it was an age of intrigue, in which nothing seemed worth

getting at all unless it could be got by underhand means, and in which it

was thought impossible for two parties to a bargain to meet together

except as antagonists, who believed that one could not derive a profit

from the transaction unless the other had been overreached. This was

neither good morality nor sound diplomacy, and the result of such

trifling was much loss of time and great disaster. In accordance with

this crafty system, the agent expressed the opinion that it would "be

good and requisite for the English government somewhat to temporise," and

to dally for a season longer, in order to see what measures the States

would take to defend themselves, and how much ability and resources they

would show for belligerent purposes. If the Queen were too eager, the

Provinces would become jealous, "yielding, as it were, their power, and

yet keeping the rudder in their own hands."

At the same time Gilpin was favourably impressed with the character both

of the country and the nation, soon to be placed in such important

relations with England. "This people," he said, "is such as by fair means

they will be won to yield and grant any reasonable motion or demand. What

these islands of Zeeland are her Majesty and all my lords of her council

do know. Yet for their government thus much I must write; that during

these troubles it never was better than now. They draw, in a manner, one

line, long and carefully in their resolution; but the same once taken and

promises made, they would perform them to the uttermost."

Such then was the character of the people, for no man was better enabled

to form an opinion on the subject than was Gilpin. Had it not been as

well, then, for Englishmen--who were themselves in that age, as in every

other, apt to "perform to the uttermost promises once taken and made,"

and to respect those endowed with the same wholesome characteristic--to

strike hands at once in a cause which was so vital to both nations?

So soon as the definite refusal of Henry III, was known in England,

Leicester and Walsingham wrote at once to the Netherlands. The Earl

already saw shining through the distance a brilliant prize for his own

ambition, although he was too haughty, perhaps too magnanimous, but

certainly far too crafty, to suffer such sentiments as yet to pierce to

the surface.

"Mr. Davison," he wrote, "you shall perceive by Mr. Secretary's letters

how the French have dealt with these people. They are well enough served;

but yet I think, if they will heartily and earnestly seek it, the Lord

hath appointed them a far better defence. But you must so use the matter

as that they must seek their own good, although we shall be partakers

thereof also. They may now, if they will effectually and liberally deal,

bring themselves to a better end than ever France would have brought

them."

At that moment there were two diplomatic agents from the States resident

in England--Jacques de Gryze; whom Paul Buys had formerly described as

having thrust himself head and shoulders into the matter without proper

authority, and Joachim Ortel, a most experienced and intelligent man,

speaking and writing English like a native, and thoroughly conversant

with English habits and character. So soon as the despatches from France

arrived, Walsingham, 18th March, 1585, sent for Ortel, and the two held a

long conference.

Walsingham.--"We have just received letters from Lord Derby and Sir

Edward Stafford, dated the 13th March. They inform us that your

deputies--contrary to all expectation and to the great hopes that had

been hold out to them--have received, last Sunday, their definite answer

from the King of France. He tells them, that, considering the present

condition of his kingdom, he is unable to undertake the protection of the

Netherlands; but says that if they like, and if the Queen of England be

willing to second his motion, he is disposed to send a mission of

mediation to Spain for the purpose of begging the King to take the

condition of the provinces to heart, and bringing about some honourable

composition, and so forth, and so forth.

"Moreover the King of France has sent Monsieur de Bellievre to Lord Derby

and Mr. Stafford, and Bellievre has made those envoys a long oration. He

explained to them all about the original treaty between the States and

Monsieur, the King's brother, and what had taken place from that day to

this, concluding, after many allegations and divers reasons, that the

King could not trouble himself with the provinces at present; but hoped

her Majesty would make the best of it, and not be offended with him.

"The ambassadors say further, that they have had an interview with your

deputies, who are excessively provoked at this most unexpected answer

from the King, and are making loud complaints, being all determined to

take themselves off as fast as possible. The ambassadors have recommended

that some of the number should come home by the way of England."

Ortel.--"It seems necessary to take active measures at once, and to leave

no duty undone in this matter. It will be advisable to confer, so soon as

may be, with some of the principal counsellors of her Majesty, and

recommend to them most earnestly the present condition of the provinces.

They know the affectionate confidence which the States entertain towards

England, and must now, remembering the sentiments of goodwill which they

have expressed towards the Netherlands, be willing to employ their

efforts with her Majesty in this emergency."

Walsingham (with much show of vexation).--"This conduct on the part of

the French court has been most pernicious. Your envoys have been delayed,

fed with idle hopes, and then disgracefully sent away, so that the best

part of the year has been consumed, and it will be most difficult now, in

a great hurry, to get together a sufficient force of horse and foot folk,

with other necessaries in abundance. On the contrary, the enemy, who knew

from the first what result was to be expected in France, has been doing

his best to be beforehand with you in the field: add, moreover, that this

French negotiation has given other princes a bad taste in their mouths.

This is the case with her Majesty. The Queen is, not without reason,

annoyed that the States have not only despised her friendly and

good-hearted offers, but have all along been endeavouring to embark her

in this war, for the defence of the Provinces, which would have cost her

several millions, without offering to her the slightest security. On the

contrary, others, enemies of the religion, who are not to be depended

upon--who had never deserved well of the States or assisted them in their

need, as she has done--have received this large offer of sovereignty

without any reserve whatever."

Ortel (not suffering himself to be disconcerted at this unjust and

somewhat insidious attack).--"That which has been transacted with France

was not done except with the express approbation and full foreknowledge

of her Majesty, so far back as the lifetime of his Excellency (William of

Orange), of high and laudable memory. Things had already gone so far, and

the Provinces had agreed so entirely together, as to make it inexpedient

to bring about a separation in policy. It was our duty to hold together,

and, once for all, thoroughly to understand what the King of France,

after such manifold presentations through Monsieur Des Pruneaulx and

others, and in various letters of his own, finally intended to do. At the

same time, notwithstanding these negotiations, we had always an especial

eye upon her Majesty. We felt a hopeful confidence that she would never

desert us, leaving us without aid or counsel, but would consider that

these affairs do not concern the Provinces alone or even especially, but

are just as deeply important to her and to all other princes of the

religion."

After this dialogue, with much more conversation of a similar character,

the Secretary and the envoy set themselves frankly and manfully to work.

It was agreed between them that every effort should be made with the

leading members of the Council to induce the Queen "in this terrible

conjuncture, not to forsake the Provinces, but to extend good counsel and

prompt assistance to them in their present embarrassments."

There was, however, so much business in Parliament just then, that it was

impossible to obtain immediately the desired interviews.

On the 20th, Ortel and De Gryze had another interview with Walsingham at

the Palace of Greenwich. The Secretary expressed the warmest and most

sincere affection for the Provinces, and advised that one of the two

envoys should set forth at once for home in order to declare to the

States, without loss of time, her Majesty's good inclination to assume

the protection of the land, together with the maintenance of the reformed

religion and the ancient privileges. Not that she was seeking her own

profit, or wished to obtain that sovereignty which had just been offered

to another of the contrary religion, but in order to make manifest her

affectionate solicitude to preserve the Protestant faith and to support

her old allies and neighbours. Nevertheless, as she could not assume this

protectorate without embarking in a dangerous war with the King of Spain,

in which she would not only be obliged to spend the blood of her

subjects, but also at least two millions of gold, there was the more

reason that the States should give her certain cities as security. Those

cities would be held by certain of her gentlemen, nominated thereto, of

quality, credit, and religion, at the head of good, true, and well-paid

garrisons, who should make oath never to surrender them to the King of

Spain or to any one else without consent of the States. The Provinces

were also reciprocally to bind themselves by oath to make no treaty with

the King, without the advice and approval of her Majesty. It was likewise

thoroughly to be understood that such cautionary towns should be restored

to the States so soon as payment should be made of all moneys advanced

during the war.

Next day the envoys had an interview with the Earl of Leicester, whom

they found as amicably disposed towards their cause as Secretary

Walsingham had been. "Her Majesty," said the Earl, "is excessively

indignant with the King of France, that he should so long have abused the

Provinces, and at last have dismissed their deputies so contemptuously.

Nevertheless," he continued, "'tis all your own fault to have placed your

hopes so entirely upon him as to entirely forget other princes, and more

especially her Majesty. Notwithstanding all that has passed, however, I

find her fully determined to maintain the cause of the Provinces. For my

own part, I am ready to stake my life, estates, and reputation, upon this

issue, and to stand side by side with other gentlemen in persuading her

Majesty to do her utmost for the assistance of your country."

He intimated however, as Walsingham had done, that the matter of

cautionary towns would prove an indispensable condition, and recommended

that one of the two envoys should proceed homeward at once, in order to

procure, as speedily as possible, the appointment of an embassy for that

purpose to her Majesty. "They must bring full powers," said the Earl, "to

give her the necessary guarantees, and make a formal demand for

protection; for it would be unbecoming, and against her reputation, to be

obliged to present herself, unsought by the other party."

In conclusion, after many strong expressions of good-will, Leicester

promised to meet them next day at court, where he would address the Queen

personally on the subject, and see that they spoke with her as well.

Meantime he sent one of his principal gentlemen to keep company with the

envoys, and make himself useful to them. This personage, being "of good

quality and a member of Parliament," gave them much useful information,

assuring them that there was a strong feeling in England in favour of the

Netherlands, and that the matter had been very vigorously taken up in the

national legislature. That assembly had been strongly encouraging her

Majesty boldly to assume the protectorate, and had manifested a

willingness to assist her with the needful. "And if," said he, "one

subsidy should not be enough, she shall have three, four, five, or six,

or as much as may be necessary."

The same day, the envoys had an interview with Lord Treasurer Burghley,

who held the same language as Walsingham and Leicester had done. "The

Queen, to his knowledge," he said, "was quite ready to assume the

protectorate; but it was necessary that it should be formally offered,

with the necessary guarantees, and that without further loss of time."

On the 22nd March, according to agreement, Ortel and De Gryze went to the

court at Greenwich. While waiting there for the Queen, who had ridden out

into the country, they had more conversation with Walsingham, whom they

found even more energetically disposed in their favour than ever, and who

assured them that her Majesty was quite ready to assume the protectorate

so soon as offered. "Within a month," he said, "after the signing of a

treaty, the troops would be on the spot, under command of such a

personage of quality and religion as would be highly satisfactory." While

they were talking, the Queen rode into the court-yard, accompanied by the

Earl of Leicester and other gentlemen. Very soon afterwards the envoys

were summoned to her presence, and allowed to recommend the affairs of

the Provinces to her consideration. She lamented the situation of their

country, and in a few words expressed her inclination to render

assistance, provided the States would manifest full confidence in her.

They replied by offering to take instant measures to gratify all her

demands, so soon as those demands should be made known; and the Queen

finding herself surrounded by so many gentlemen and by a crowd of people,

appointed them accordingly to come to her private apartments the same

afternoon.

At that interview none were present save Walsingham and Lord Chamberlain

Howard. The Queen showed herself "extraordinarily resolute" to take up

the affairs of the Provinces. "She had always been sure," she said, "that

the French negotiation would have no other issue than the one which they

had just seen. She was fully aware what a powerful enemy she was about to

make--one who could easily create mischief for her in Scotland and

Ireland; but she was nevertheless resolved, if the States chose to deal

with her frankly and generously, to take them under her protection. She

assured the envoys that if a deputation with full powers and reasonable

conditions should be immediately sent to her, she would not delay and

dally with them, as had been the case in France, but would despatch them

back again at the speediest, and would make her good inclination manifest

by deeds as well as words. As she was hazarding her treasure together

with the blood and repose of her subjects, she was not at liberty to do

this except on receipt of proper securities."

Accordingly De Gryze went to the Provinces, provided with complimentary

and affectionate letters from the Queen, while Ortel remained in England.

So far all was plain and above-board; and Walsingham, who, from the

first, had been warmly in favour of taking up the Netherland cause, was

relieved by being able to write in straightforward language. Stealthy and

subtle, where the object was to get within the guard of an enemy who

menaced a mortal blow, he was, both by nature and policy, disposed to

deal frankly with those he called his friends.

"Monsieur de Gryze repaireth presently," he wrote to Davison, "to try if

he can induce the States to send their deputies hither, furnished with

more ample instructions than they had to treat with the French King,

considering that her Majesty carryeth another manner of princely

disposition than that sovereign. Meanwhile, for that she doubteth lest in

this hard estate of their affairs, and the distrust they have conceived

to be relieved from hence, they should from despair throw themselves into

the course of Spain, her pleasure therefore is--though by Burnham I sent

you directions to put them in comfort of relief, only as of

yourself--that you shall now, as it were, in her name, if you see cause

sufficient, assure some of the aptest instruments that you shall make

choice of for that purpose, that her Majesty, rather than that they

should perish, will be content to take them under her protection."

He added that it was indispensable for the States, upon their part, to

offer "such sufficient cautions and assurances as she might in reason

demand."

Matters were so well managed that by the 22nd April the States-General

addressed a letter to the Queen, in which they notified her, that the

desired deputation was on the point of setting forth. "Recognizing," they

said, "that there is no prince or potentate to whom they are more obliged

than they are to your Majesty, we are about to request you very humbly to

accept the sovereignty of these Provinces, and the people of the same for

your very humble vassals and subjects." They added that, as the necessity

of the case was great, they hoped the Queen would send, so soon as might

be, a force of four or five thousand men for the purpose of relieving the

siege of Antwerp.

A similar letter was despatched by the same courier to the Earl of

Leicester.

On the 1st of May, Ortel had audience of the Queen, to deliver the

letters from the States-General. He found that despatches, very

encouraging and agreeable in their tenor, had also just arrived from

Davison. The Queen was in good humour. She took the letter from Ortel,

read it attentively, and paused a good while. Then she assured him that

her good affection towards the Provinces was not in the least changed,

and that she thanked the States for the confidence in her that they were

manifesting. "It is unnecessary," said the Queen, "for me to repeat over

and over again sentiments which I have so plainly declared. You are to

assure the States that they shall never be disappointed in the trust that

they have reposed in my good intentions. Let them deal with me sincerely,

and without holding open any back-door. Not that I am seeking the

sovereignty of the Provinces, for I wish only to maintain their

privileges and ancient liberties, and to defend them in this regard

against all the world. Let them ripely consider, then, with what fidelity

I am espousing their cause, and how, without fear of any one, I am

arousing most powerful enemies."

Ortel had afterwards an interview with Leicester, in which the Earl

assured him that her Majesty had not in the least changed in her

sentiments towards the Provinces. "For myself," said he, "I am ready, if

her Majesty choose to make use of me, to go over there in person, and to

place life, property, and all the assistance I can gain from my friends,

upon the issue. Yea, with so good a heart, that I pray the Lord may be

good to me, only so far as I serve faithfully in this cause." He added a

warning that the deputies to be appointed should come with absolute

powers, in order that her Majesty's bountiful intentions might not be

retarded by their own fault.

Ortel then visited Walsingham at his house, Barn-Elms, where he was

confined by illness. Sir Francis assured the envoy that he would use

every effort, by letter to her Majesty and by verbal instructions to his

son-in-law, Sir Philip Sidney, to further the success of the negotiation,

and that he deeply regretted his enforced absence from the court on so

important an occasion.

Matters were proceeding most favourably, and the all-important point of

sending an auxiliary force of Englishmen to the relief of Antwerp--before

it should be too late, and in advance of the final conclusion of the

treaty between the countries-had been nearly conceded. Just at that

moment, however, "as ill-luck would have it," said Ortel, "came a letter

from Gilpin. I don't think he meant it in malice, but the effect was most

pernicious. He sent the information that a new attack was to be made by

the 10th May upon the Kowenstyn, that it was sure to be successful, and

that the siege of Antwerp was as good as raised. So Lord Burghley

informed me, in presence of Lord Leicester, that her Majesty was

determined to await the issue of this enterprise. It was quite too late

to get troops in readiness; to co-operate with the States' army, so soon

as the 10th May, and as Antwerp was so sure to be relieved, there was no

pressing necessity for haste. I uttered most bitter complaints to these

lords and to other counsellors of the Queen, that she should thus draw

back, on account of a letter from a single individual, without paying

sufficient heed to the despatches from the States-General, who certainly

knew their own affairs and their own necessities better than any one else

could do, but her Majesty sticks firm to her resolution."

Here were immense mistakes committed on all sides. The premature shooting

up of those three rockets from the cathedral-tower, on the unlucky 10th

May, had thus not only ruined the first assault against the Kowenstyn,

but also the second and the more promising adventure. Had the four

thousand bold Englishmen there enlisted, and who could have reached the

Provinces in time to cooperate in that great enterprise, have stood side

by side with the Hollanders, the Zeelanders, and the Antwerpers, upon

that fatal dyke, it is almost a certainty that Antwerp would have been

relieved, and the whole of Flanders and Brabant permanently annexed to

the independent commonwealth, which would have thus assumed at once most

imposing proportions.

It was a great blunder of Sainte Aldegonde to station in the cathedral,

on so important an occasion, watchmen in whose judgment he could not

thoroughly rely. It was a blunder in Gilpin, intelligent as he generally

showed himself, to write in such sanguine style before the event. But it

was the greatest blunder of all for Queen Elizabeth to suspend her

cooperation at the very instant when, as the result showed, it was likely

to prove most successful. It was a chapter of blunders from first to

last, but the most fatal of all the errors was the one thus prompted by

the great Queen's most traitorous characteristic, her obstinate

parsimony.

And now began a series of sharp chafferings on both sides, not very much

to the credit of either party. The kingdom of England, and the rebellious

Provinces of Spain, were drawn to each other by an irresistible law of

political attraction. Their absorption into each other seemed natural and

almost inevitable; and the weight of the strong Protestant organism, had

it been thus completed, might have balanced the great Catholic League

which was clustering about Spain.

It was unfortunate that the two governments of England and the

Netherlands should now assume the attitude of traders driving a hard

bargain with each other, rather than that of two important commonwealths,

upon whose action, at that momentous epoch, the weal and wo of

Christendom was hanging. It is quite true that the danger to England was

great, but that danger in any event was to be confronted--Philip was to

be defied, and, by assuming the cause of the Provinces to be her own,

which it unquestionably was, Elizabeth was taking the diadem from her

head--as the King of Sweden well observed--and adventuring it upon the

doubtful chance of war. Would it not have been better then--her mind

being once made up--promptly to accept all the benefits, as well as all

the hazards, of the bold game to which she was of necessity a party? But

she could not yet believe in the incredible meanness of Henry III. "I

asked her Majesty" (3rd May, 1585), said Ortel, "whether, in view of

these vast preparations in France, it did not behove her to be most

circumspect and upon her guard. For, in the opinion of many men,

everything showed one great scheme already laid down--a general

conspiracy throughout Christendom against the reformed religion. She

answered me, that thus far she could not perceive this to be the case;

'nor could she believe,' she said, 'that the King of France could be so

faint-hearted as to submit to such injuries from the Guises.'"

Time was very soon to show the nature of that unhappy monarch with regard

to injuries, and to prove to Elizabeth the error she had committed in

doubting his faint-heartedness. Meanwhile, time was passing, and the

Netherlands were shivering in the storm. They, needed the open sunshine

which her caution kept too long behind the clouds. For it was now

enjoined upon Walsingham to manifest a coldness upon the part of the

English government towards the States. Davison was to be allowed to

return; "but," said Sir Francis, "her Majesty would not have you

accompany the commissioners who are coming from the Low Countries; but to

come over, either before them or after them, lest it be thought they come

over by her Majesty's procurement."

As if they were not coming over by her Majesty's most especial

procurement, and as if it would matter to Philip--the union once made

between England and Holland--whether the invitation to that union came

first from the one party or the other!

"I am retired for my health from the court to mine own house," said

Walsingham, "but I find those in whose judgment her Majesty reposeth

greatest trust so coldly affected unto the cause, as I have no great hope

of the matter; and yet, for that the hearts of princes are in the hands

of God, who both can will and dispose them at his pleasure, I would be

loath to hinder the repair of the commissioners."

Here certainly, had the sun gone most suddenly into a cloud. Sir Francis

would be loath to advise the commissioners to stay at home, but he

obviously thought them coming on as bootless an errand as that which had

taken their colleagues so recently into France.

The cause of the trouble was Flushing. Hence the tears, and the coldness,

and the scoldings, on the part of the imperious and the economical Queen.

Flushing was the patrimony--a large portion of that which was left to

him--of Count Maurice. It was deeply mortgaged for the payment of the

debts of William the Silent, but his son Maurice, so long as the elder

brother Philip William remained a captive in Spain, wrote himself Marquis

of Flushing and Kampveer, and derived both revenue and importance from

his rights in that important town. The States of Zeeland, while desirous

of a political fusion of the two countries, were averse from the prospect

of converting, by exception, their commercial, capital into an English

city, the remainder of the Provinces remaining meanwhile upon their

ancient footing. The negociations on the subject caused a most ill-timed

delay. The States finding the English government cooling, affected to

grow tepid themselves. This was the true mercantile system, perhaps, for

managing a transaction most thriftily, but frankness and promptness would

have been more statesmanlike at such a juncture.

"I am sorry to understand," wrote Walsingham, "that the States are not

yet grown to a full resolution for the delivering of the town of Flushing

into her Majesty's hands. The Queen finding the people of that island so

wavering and inconstant, besides that they can hardly, after the so long

enjoying a popular liberty, bear a regal authority, would be loath to

embark herself into so dangerous a war without some sufficient caution

received from them. It is also greatly to be doubted, that if, by

practice and corruption, that town might be recovered by the Spaniards,

it would put all the rest of the country in peril. I find her Majesty, in

case that town may be gotten, fully resolved to receive them into her

protection, so as it may also be made probable unto her that the promised

three hundred thousand guilders the month will be duly paid."

A day or two after writing this letter, Walsingham sent one afternoon, in

a great hurry, for Ortel, and informed him very secretly, that, according

to information just received, the deputies from the States were coming

without sufficient authority in regard to this very matter. Thus all the

good intentions of the English government were likely to be frustrated,

and the Provinces to be reduced to direful extremity.

"What can we possibly advise her Majesty to do?" asked Walsingham, "since

you are not willing to put confidence in her intentions. You are trying

to bring her into a public war, in which she is to risk her treasure and

the blood of her subjects against the greatest potentates of the world,

and you hesitate meantime at giving her such security as is required for

the very defence of the Provinces themselves. The deputies are coming

hither to offer the sovereignty to her Majesty, as was recently done in

France, or, if that should not prove acceptable, they are to ask

assistance in men and money upon a mere 'taliter qualiter' guaranty.

That's not the way. And there are plenty of ill-disposed persons here to

take advantage of this position of affairs to ruin the interest of the

Provinces now placed on so good a footing. Moreover, in this perpetual

sending of despatches back and forth, much precious time is consumed; and

this is exactly what our enemies most desire."

In accordance with Walsingham's urgent suggestions, Ortel wrote at once

to his constituents, imploring them to remedy this matter. "Do not allow,"

he said, "any, more time to be wasted. Let us not painfully, build a wall

only to knock our own heads against it, to the dismay of our friends and

the gratification of our enemies."

It was at last arranged that an important blank should be left in the

articles to be brought by the deputies, upon which vacant place the names

of certain cautionary towns, afterwards to be agreed upon, were to be

inscribed by common consent.

Meantime the English ministers were busy in preparing to receive the

commissioners, and to bring the Netherland matter handsomely before the

legislature.

The integrity, the caution, the thrift, the hesitation, which

characterized Elizabeth's government, were well pourtrayed in the

habitual language of the Lord Treasurer, chief minister of a third-rate

kingdom now called on to play a first-rate part, thoroughly acquainted

with the moral and intellectual power of the nation whose policy he

directed, and prophetically conscious of the great destinies which were

opening upon her horizon. Lord Burghley could hardly be censured--least

of all ridiculed--for the patient and somewhat timid attributes of his

nature: The ineffable ponderings, which might now be ludicrous, on the

part of a minister of the British Empire, with two hundred millions of

subjects and near a hundred millions of revenue, were almost inevitable

in a man guiding a realm of four millions of people with half a million

of income.

It was, on the whole, a strange negotiation, this between England and

Holland. A commonwealth had arisen, but was unconscious of the strength

which it was to find in the principle of states' union, and of religious

equality. It sought, on the contrary, to exchange its federal sovereignty

for provincial dependence, and to imitate, to a certain extent, the very

intolerance by which it had been driven into revolt. It was not unnatural

that the Netherlanders should hate the Roman Catholic religion, in the

name of which they had endured such infinite tortures, but it is,

nevertheless, painful to observe that they requested Queen Elizabeth,

whom they styled defender, not of "the faith" but of the "reformed

religion," to exclude from the Provinces, in case she accepted the

sovereignty, the exercise of all religious rites except those belonging

to the reformed church. They, however, expressly provided against

inquisition into conscience. Private houses were to be sacred, the

papists free within their own walls, but the churches were to be closed

to those of the ancient faith. This was not so bad as to hang, burn,

drown, and bury alive nonconformists, as had been done by Philip and the

holy inquisition in the name of the church of Rome; nor is it very

surprising that the horrible past should have caused that church to be

regarded with sentiments of such deep-rooted hostility as to make the

Hollanders shudder at the idea of its re-establishment. Yet, no doubt, it

was idle for either Holland or England, at that day, to talk of a

reconciliation with Rome. A step had separated them, but it was a step

from a precipice. No human power could bridge the chasm. The steep

contrast between the league and the counter-league, between the systems

of Philip and Mucio, and that of Elizabeth and Olden-Barneveld, ran

through the whole world of thought, action, and life.

But still the negociation between Holland and England was a strange one.

Holland wished to give herself entirely, and England feared to accept.

Elizabeth, in place of sovereignty, wanted mortgages; while Holland was

afraid to give a part, although offering the whole. There was no great

inequality between the two countries. Both were instinctively conscious,

perhaps, of standing on the edge of a vast expansion. Both felt that they

were about to stretch their wings suddenly for a flight over the whole

earth. Yet each was a very inferior power, in comparison with the great

empires of the past or those which then existed.

It is difficult, without a strong effort of the imagination, to reduce

the English empire to the slender proportions which belonged to her in

the days of Elizabeth. That epoch was full of light and life. The

constellations which have for centuries been shining in the English

firmament were then human creatures walking English earth. The captains,

statesmen, corsairs, merchant-adventurers, poets, dramatists, the great

Queen herself, the Cecils, Raleigh, Walsingham, Drake, Hawkins, Gilbert,

Howard, Willoughby, the Norrises, Essex, Leicester, Sidney, Spenser,

Shakspeare and the lesser but brilliant lights which surrounded him; such

were the men who lifted England upon an elevation to which she was not

yet entitled by her material grandeur. At last she had done with Rome,

and her expansion dated from that moment.

Holland and England, by the very condition of their existence, were sworn

foes to Philip. Elizabeth stood excommunicated of the Pope. There was

hardly a month in which intelligence was not sent by English agents out

of the Netherlands and France, that assassins, hired by Philip, were

making their way to England to attempt the life of the Queen. The

Netherlanders were rebels to the Spanish monarch, and they stood, one and

all, under death-sentence by Rome. The alliance was inevitable and

wholesome. Elizabeth was, however, consistently opposed to the acceptance

of a new sovereignty. England was a weak power. Ireland was at her side

in a state of chronic rebellion--a stepping-stone for Spain in its

already foreshadowed invasion. Scotland was at her back with a strong

party of Catholics, stipendiaries of Philip, encouraged by the Guises and

periodically inflamed to enthusiasm by the hope of rescuing Mary Stuart

from her imprisonment, bringing her rival's head to the block, and

elevating the long-suffering martyr upon the throne of all the British

Islands. And in the midst of England itself, conspiracies were weaving

every day. The mortal duel between the two queens was slowly approaching

its termination. In the fatal form of Mary was embodied everything most

perilous to England's glory and to England's Queen. Mary Stuart meant

absolutism at home, subjection to Rome and Spain abroad. The uncle Guises

were stipendiaries of Philip, Philip was the slave of the Pope. Mucio had

frightened the unlucky Henry III. into submission, and there was no

health nor hope in France. For England, Mary Stuart embodied the possible

relapse into sloth, dependence, barbarism. For Elizabeth, Mary Stuart

embodied sedition, conspiracy, rebellion, battle, murder, and sudden

death.

It was not to be wondered at that the Queen thus situated should be

cautious, when about throwing down the gauntlet to the greatest powers of

the earth. Yet the commissioners from the United States were now on their

way to England to propose the throwing of that gauntlet. What now was

that England?

Its population was, perhaps, not greater than the numbers which dwell

to-day within its capital and immediate suburbs. Its revenue was perhaps

equal to the sixtieth part of the annual interest on the present national

debt. Single, highly-favoured individuals, not only in England but in

other countries cis-and trans-Atlantic, enjoy incomes equal to more than

half the amount of Elizabeth's annual budget. London, then containing

perhaps one hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants, was hardly so

imposing a town as Antwerp, and was inferior in most material respects to

Paris and Lisbon. Forty-two hundred children were born every year within

its precincts, and the deaths were nearly as many. In plague years, which

were only too frequent, as many as twenty and even thirty thousand people

had been annually swept away.

At the present epoch there are seventeen hundred births every week, and

about one thousand deaths.

It is instructive to throw a glance at the character of the English

people as it appeared to intelligent foreigners at that day; for the

various parts of the world were not then so closely blended, nor did

national colours and characteristics flow so liquidly into each other, as

is the case in these days of intimate juxta-position.

"The English are a very clever, handsome, and well-made people," says a

learned Antwerp historian and merchant, who had resided a long time in

London, "but, like all islanders, by nature weak and tender. They are

generally fair, particularly the women, who all--even to the peasant

women--protect their complexions from the sun with fans and veils, as

only the stately gentlewomen do in Germany and the Netherlands. As a

people they are stout-hearted, vehement, eager, cruel in war, zealous in

attack, little fearing: death; not revengeful, but fickle, presumptuous,

rash, boastful, deceitful, very suspicious, especially of strangers, whom

they despise. They are full of courteous and hypocritical gestures and

words, which they consider to imply good manners, civility, and wisdom.

They are well spoken, and very hospitable. They feed well, eating much

meat, which-owing to the rainy climate and the ranker character of the

grass--is not so firm and succulent as the meat of France and the

Netherlands. The people are not so laborious as the French and

Hollanders, preferring to lead an indolent life, like the Spaniards. The

most difficult and ingenious of the handicrafts are in the hands of

foreigners, as is the case with the lazy inhabitants of Spain. They feed

many sheep, with fine wool, from which, two hundred years ago, they

learned to make cloth. They keep many idle servants, and many wild

animals for their pleasure, instead of cultivating the sail. They have

many ships, but they do not even catch fish enough for their own

consumption, but purchase of their neighbours. They dress very elegantly.

Their costume is light and costly, but they are very changeable and

capricious, altering their fashions every year, both the men and the

women. When they go away from home, riding or travelling, they always

wear their best clothes, contrary to the habit of other nations. The

English language is broken Dutch, mixed with French and British terms and

words, but with a lighter pronunciation. They do not speak from the

chest, like the Germans, but prattle only with the tongue."

Here are few statistical facts, but certainly it is curious to see how

many national traits thus photographed by a contemporary, have quite

vanished, and have been exchanged for their very opposites. Certainly the

last physiological criticism of all would indicate as great a national

metamorphosis, during the last three centuries, as is offered by many

other of the writer's observations.

"With regard to the women," continues the same authority, "they are

entirely in the power of the men, except in matters of life and death,

yet they are not kept so closely and strictly as in Spain and elsewhere.

They are not locked up, but have free management of their household, like

the Netherlanders and their other neighbours. They are gay in their

clothing, taking well their ease, leaving house-work to the

servant-maids, and are fond of sitting, finely-dressed, before their

doors to see the passers-by and to be seen of them. In all banquets and

dinner-parties they have the most honour, sitting at the upper end of the

board, and being served first.

"Their time is spent in riding, lounging, card-playing, and making merry

with their gossips at child-bearings, christenings, churchings, and

buryings; and all this conduct the men wink at, because such are the

customs of the land. They much commend however the industry and careful

habits of the German and Netherland women, who do the work which in

England devolves upon the men. Hence, England is called the paradise of

married women, for the unmarried girls are kept much more strictly than

upon the continent. The women are, handsome, white, dressy, modest;

although they go freely about the streets without bonnet, hood, or veil;

but lately learned to cover their faces with a silken mask or vizard with

a plumage of feathers, for they change their fashions every year, to the

astonishment of many."

Paul Hentzner, a tourist from Germany at precisely the same epoch,

touches with equal minuteness on English characteristics. It may be

observed, that, with some discrepancies, there is also much similarity,

in the views of the two critics.

"The English," says the whimsical Paul, are serious, like the Germans,

lovers of show, liking to be followed, wherever they go, by troops of

servants, who wear their master's arms, in silver, fastened to their left

sleeves, and are justly ridiculed for wearing tails hanging down their

backs. They excel in dancing and music, for they are active and lively,

although they are of thicker build than the Germans. They cut their hair

close on the forehead, letting it hang down on either side. They are good

sailors, and better pirates, cunning, treacherous, thievish. Three

hundred and upwards are hanged annually in London. Hawking is the

favourite sport of the nobility. The English are more polite in eating

than the French, devouring less bread, but more meat, which they roast in

perfection. They put a great deal of sugar in their drink. Their beds are

covered with tapestry, even those of farmers. They are powerful in the

field, successful against their enemies, impatient of anything like

slavery, vastly fond of great ear-filling noises, such as cannon-firing,

drum-beating, and bell-ringing; so that it is very common for a number of

them, when they have got a cup too much in their heads, to go up to some

belfry, and ring the bells for an hour together, for the sake of the

amusement. If they see a foreigner very well made or particularly

handsome, they will say "'tis pity he is not an Englishman."

It is also somewhat amusing, at the present day, to find a German

elaborately explaining to his countrymen the mysteries of

tobacco-smoking, as they appeared to his unsophisticated eyes in England.

"At the theatres and everywhere else," says the traveller, "the English

are constantly smoking tobacco in the following manner. They have pipes,

made on purpose, of clay. At the further end of these is a bowl. Into the

bowl they put the herb, and then setting fire to it, they draw the smoke

into their mouths, which they puff out again through their nostrils, like

funnels," and so on; conscientious explanations which a German tourist of

our own times might think it superfluous to offer to his compatriots.

It is also instructive to read that the light-fingered gentry of the

metropolis were nearly as adroit in their calling as they are at present,

after three additional centuries of development for their delicate craft;

for the learned Tobias Salander, the travelling companion of Paul

Hentzner, finding himself at a Lord Mayor's Show, was eased of his purse,

containing nine crowns, as skilfully as the feat could have been done by

the best pickpocket of the nineteenth century, much to that learned

person's discomfiture.

Into such an England and among such English the Netherland envoys had now

been despatched on their most important errand.

After twice putting back, through stress of weather, the commissioners,

early in July, arrived at London, and were "lodged and very worshipfully

appointed at charges of her Majesty in the Clothworkers' Hall in

Pynchon-lane, near Tower-street." About the Tower and its faubourgs the

buildings were stated to be as elegant as they were in the city itself,

although this was hardly very extravagant commendation. From this

district a single street led along the river's strand to Westminster,

where were the old and new palaces, the famous hall and abbey, the

Parliament chambers, and the bridge to Southwark, built of stone, with

twenty arches, sixty feet high, and with rows of shops and

dwelling-houses on both its sides. Thence, along the broad and beautiful

river, were dotted here and there many stately mansions and villas,

residences of bishops and nobles, extending farther and farther west as

the city melted rapidly into the country. London itself was a town lying

high upon a hill--the hill of Lud--and consisted of a coil of narrow,

tortuous, unseemly streets, each with a black, noisome rivulet running

through its centre, and with rows of three-storied, leaden-roofed houses,

built of timber-work filled in with lime, with many gables, and with the

upper stories overhanging and darkening the basements. There were one

hundred and twenty-one churches, small and large, the most conspicuous of

which was the Cathedral. Old Saint Paul's was not a very magnificent

edifice--but it was an extremely large one, for it was seven hundred and

twenty feet long, one hundred and thirty broad, and had a massive

quadrangular tower, two hundred and sixty feet high. Upon this tower had

stood a timber-steeple, rising, to a height of five hundred and

thirty-four feet from the ground, but it had been struck by lightning in

the year 1561, and consumed to the stone-work.

The Queen's favourite residence was Greenwich Palace, the place of her

birth, and to this mansion, on the 9th of July, the Netherland envoys

were conveyed, in royal barges, from the neighbourhood of Pynchon-lane,

for their first audience.