His grandfather, John Dudley, that "caterpillar of the commonwealth," who

lost his head in the first year of Henry VIII. as a reward for the grist

which he brought to the mill of Henry VII.; his father, the mighty Duke

of Northumberland, who rose out of the wreck of an obscure and ruined

family to almost regal power, only to perish, like his predecessor, upon

the scaffold, had bequeathed him nothing save rapacity, ambition, and the

genius to succeed. But Elizabeth seemed to ascend the throne only to

bestow gifts upon her favourite. Baronies and earldoms, stars and

garters, manors and monopolies, castles and forests, church livings and

college chancellorships, advowsons and sinecures, emoluments and

dignities, the most copious and the most exalted, were conferred upon him

in breathless succession. Wine, oil, currants, velvets, ecclesiastical

benefices, university headships, licences to preach, to teach, to ride,

to sail, to pick and to steal, all brought "grist to his mill." His

grandfather, "the horse leach and shearer," never filled his coffers more

rapidly than did Lord Robert, the fortunate courtier. Of his early

wedlock with the ill-starred Amy Robsart, of his nuptial projects with

the Queen, of his subsequent marriages and mock-marriages with Douglas

Sheffield and Lettice of Essex, of his plottings, poisonings, imaginary

or otherwise, of his countless intrigues, amatory and political--of that

luxuriant, creeping, flaunting, all-pervading existence which struck its

fibres into the mould, and coiled itself through the whole fabric, of

Elizabeth's life and reign--of all this the world has long known too much

to render a repetition needful here. The inmost nature and the secret

deeds of a man placed so high by wealth and station, can be seen but

darkly through the glass of contemporary record. There was no tribunal to

sit upon his guilt. A grandee could be judged only when no longer a

favourite, and the infatuation of Elizabeth for Leicester terminated only

with his life. He stood now upon the soil of the Netherlands in the

character of a "Messiah," yet he has been charged with crimes sufficient

to send twenty humbler malefactors to the gibbet. "I think," said a most

malignant arraigner of the man, in a published pamphlet, "that the Earl

of Leicester hath more blood lying upon his head at this day, crying for

vengeance, than ever had private man before, were he never so wicked."

Certainly the mass of misdemeanours and infamies hurled at the head of

the favourite by that "green-coated Jesuit," father Parsons, under the

title of 'Leycester's Commonwealth,' were never accepted as literal

verities; yet the value of the precept, to calumniate boldly, with the

certainty that much of the calumny would last for ever, was never better

illustrated than in the case of Robert Dudley. Besides the lesser

delinquencies of filling his purse by the sale of honours and dignities,

by violent ejectments from land, fraudulent titles, rapacious enclosures

of commons, by taking bribes for matters of justice, grace, and

supplication to the royal authority, he was accused of forging various

letters to the Queen, often to ruin his political adversaries, and of

plottings to entrap them into conspiracies, playing first the comrade and

then the informer. The list of his murders and attempts to murder was

almost endless. "His lordship hath a special fortune," saith the Jesuit,

"that when he desireth any woman's favour, whatsoever person standeth in

his way hath the luck to die quickly." He was said to have poisoned Alice

Drayton, Lady Lennox, Lord Sussex, Sir Nicholas Throgmorton, Lord

Sheffield, whose widow he married and then poisoned, Lord Essex, whose

widow he also married, and intended to poison, but who was said to have

subsequently poisoned him--besides murders or schemes for murder of

various other individuals, both French and English. "He was a rare artist

in poison," said Sir Robert Naunton, and certainly not Caesar Borgia, nor

his father or sister, was more accomplished in that difficult profession

than was Dudley, if half the charges against him could be believed.

Fortunately for his fame, many of them were proved to be false. Sir Henry

Sidney, lord deputy of Ireland, at the time of the death of Lord Essex,

having caused a diligent inquiry to be made into that dark affair, wrote

to the council that it was usual for the Earl to fall into a bloody flux

when disturbed in his mind, and that his body when opened showed no signs

of poison. It is true that Sir Henry, although an honourable man, was

Leicester's brother-in-law, and that perhaps an autopsy was not conducted

at that day in Ireland on very scientific principles.

His participation in the strange death of his first wife was a matter of

current belief among his contemporaries. "He is infamed by the death of

his wife," said Burghley, and the tale has since become so interwoven

with classic and legendary fiction, as well as with more authentic

history, that the phantom of the murdered Amy Robsart is sure to arise at

every mention of the Earl's name. Yet a coroner's inquest--as appears

from his own secret correspondence with his relative and agent at

Cumnor--was immediately and persistently demanded by Dudley. A jury was

impaneled--every man of them a stranger to him, and some of them

enemies. Antony Forster, Appleyard, and Arthur Robsart, brother-in-law

and brother of the lady, were present, according to Dudley's special

request; "and if more of her friends could have been sent," said he, "I

would have sent them;" but with all their minuteness of inquiry, "they

could find," wrote Blount, "no presumptions of evil," although he

expressed a suspicion that "some of the jurymen were sorry that they

could not." That the unfortunate lady was killed by a fall down stairs

was all that could be made of it by a coroner's inquest, rather hostile

than otherwise, and urged to rigorous investigation by the supposed

culprit himself. Nevertheless, the calumny has endured for three

centuries, and is likely to survive as many more.

Whatever crimes Dudley may have committed in the course of his career,

there is no doubt whatever that he was the most abused man in Europe. He

had been deeply wounded by the Jesuit's artful publication, in which all

the misdeeds with which he was falsely or justly charged were drawn up in

awful array, in a form half colloquial, half judicial. "You had better

give some contentment to my Lord Leicester," wrote the French envoy from

London to his government, "on account of the bitter feelings excited in

him by these villainous books lately written against him."

The Earl himself ascribed these calumnies to the Jesuits, to the Guise

faction, and particularly to--the Queen of Scots. He was said, in

consequence, to have vowed an eternal hatred to that most unfortunate and

most intriguing Princess. "Leicester has lately told a friend," wrote

Charles Paget, "that he will persecute you to the uttermost, for that he

supposeth your Majesty to be privy to the setting forth of the book

against him." Nevertheless, calumniated or innocent he was at least

triumphant over calumny. Nothing could shake his hold upon Elizabeth's

affections. The Queen scorned but resented the malignant attacks upon the

reputation of her favourite. She declared "before God and in her

conscience, that she knew the libels against him to be most scandalous,

and such as none but an incarnate devil himself could dream to be true."

His power, founded not upon genius nor virtue, but upon woman's caprice,

shone serenely above the gulf where there had been so many shipwrecks. "I

am now passing into another world," said Sussex, upon his death-bed, to

his friends, "and I must leave you to your fortunes; but beware of the

gipsy, or he will be too hard for you. You know not the beast so well as

I do."

The "gipsy," as he had been called from his dark complexion, had been

renowned in youth for the beauty of his person, being "tall and

singularly well-featured, of a sweet aspect, but high foreheaded, which

was of no discommendation," according to Naunton. The Queen, who had the

passion of her father for tall and proper men, was easier won by

externals, from her youth even to the days of her dotage, than befitted

so very sagacious a personage. Chamberlains, squires of the body,

carvers, cup-bearers, gentlemen-ushers, porters, could obtain neither

place nor favour at court, unless distinguished for stature, strength, or

extraordinary activity. To lose a tooth had been known to cause the loss

of a place, and the excellent constitution of leg which helped Sir

Christopher Hatton into the chancellorship, was not more remarkable

perhaps than the success of similar endowments in other contemporaries.

Leicester, although stately and imposing, had passed his summer solstice.

A big bulky man, with a long red face, a bald head, a defiant somewhat

sinister eye, a high nose, and a little torrent of foam-white curly

beard, he was still magnificent in costume. Rustling in satin and

feathers, with jewels in his ears, and his velvet toque stuck as airily

as ever upon the side of his head, he amazed the honest Hollanders, who

had been used to less gorgeous chieftains.

"Every body is wondering at the great magnificence and splendour of his

clothes," said the plain chronicler of Utrecht. For, not much more than a

year before, Fulke Greville had met at Delft a man whose external

adornments were simpler; a somewhat slip-shod personage, whom he thus

pourtrayed: "His uppermost garment was a gown," said the euphuistic

Fulke, "yet such as, I confidently affirm, a mean-born student of our

Inns of Court would not have been well disposed to walk the streets in.

Unbuttoned his doublet was, and of like precious matter and form to the

other. His waistcoat, which showed itself under it, not unlike the best

sort of those woollen knit ones which our ordinary barge-watermen row us

in. His company about him, the burgesses of that beerbrewing town. No

external sign of degree could have discovered the inequality of his worth

or estate from that multitude. Nevertheless, upon conversing with him,

there was an outward passage of inward greatness."

Of a certainty there must have been an outward passage of inward

greatness about him; for the individual in unbuttoned doublet and

bargeman's waistcoat, was no other than William the Silent. A different

kind of leader had now descended among those rebels, yet it would be a

great mistake to deny the capacity or vigorous intentions of the

magnificent Earl, who certainly was like to find himself in a more

difficult and responsible situation than any he had yet occupied.

And now began a triumphal progress through the land, with a series of

mighty banquets and festivities, in which no man could play a better part

than Leicester. From Flushing he came to Middelburg, where, upon

Christmas eve (according to the new reckoning), there was an

entertainment, every dish of which has been duly chronicled. Pigs served

on their feet, pheasants in their feathers, and baked swans with their

necks thrust through gigantic pie-crust; crystal castles of confectionery

with silver streams flowing at their base, and fair virgins leaning from

the battlements, looking for their new English champion, "wine in

abundance, variety of all sorts, and wonderful welcomes "--such was the

bill of fare. The next day the Lieutenant-General returned the compliment

to the magistrates of Middelburg with a tremendous feast. Then came an

interlude of unexpected famine; for as the Earl sailed with his suite in

a fleet of two hundred vessels for Dort--a voyage of not many hours'

usual duration--there descended a mighty frozen fog upon the waters, and

they lay five whole days and nights in their ships, almost starved with

hunger and cold--offering in vain a "pound of silver for a pound of

bread." Emerging at last from this dismal predicament, he landed at Dort,

and so went to Rotterdam and Delft, everywhere making his way through

lines of musketeers and civic functionaries, amid roaring cannon, pealing

bells, burning cressets, blazing tar-barrels, fiery winged dragons,

wreaths of flowers, and Latin orations.

The farther he went the braver seemed the country, and the better beloved

his. Lordship. Nothing was left undone, in the language of ancient

chronicle, to fill the bellies and the heads of the whole company. At the

close of the year he came to the Hague, where the festivities were

unusually magnificent. A fleet of barges was sent to escort him. Peter,

James, and John, met him upon the shore, while the Saviour appeared

walking upon the waves, and ordered his disciples to cast their nets, and

to present the fish to his Excellency. Farther on, he was confronted by

Mars and Bellona, who recited Latin odes in his honour. Seven beautiful

damsels upon a stage, representing the United States, offered him golden

keys; seven others equally beautiful, embodying the seven sciences,

presented him with garlands, while an enthusiastic barber adorned his

shop with seven score of copper basins, with a wax-light in each,

together with a rose, and a Latin posy in praise of Queen Elizabeth. Then

there were tiltings in the water between champions mounted upon whales,

and other monsters of the deep-representatives of siege, famine,

pestilence, and murder--the whole interspersed with fireworks, poetry,

charades, and Matthias, nor Anjou, nor King Philip, nor the Emperor

Charles, in their triumphal progresses, had been received with more

spontaneous or more magnificent demonstrations. Never had the living

pictures been more startling, the allegories more incomprehensible, the

banquets more elaborate, the orations more tedious. Beside himself with

rapture, Leicester almost assumed the God. In Delft, a city which he

described as "another London almost for beauty and fairness," he is said

so far to have forgotten himself as to declare that his family had--in

the person of Lady Jane Grey, his father, and brother--been unjustly

deprived of the crown of England; an indiscretion which caused a shudder

in all who heard him. It was also very dangerous for the

Lieutenant-General to exceed the bounds of becoming modesty at that

momentous epoch. His power, as we shall soon have occasion to observe,

was anomalous, and he was surrounded by enemies. He was not only to

grapple with a rapidly developing opposition in the States, but he was

surrounded with masked enemies, whom he had brought with him from

England. Every act and word of his were liable to closest scrutiny, and

likely to be turned against him. For it was most characteristic of that

intriguing age, that even the astute Walsingham, who had an eye and an

ear at every key-hole in Europe, was himself under closest domestic

inspection. There was one Poley, a trusted servant of Lady Sidney, then

living in the house of her father Walsingham, during Sir Philip's

absence, who was in close communication with Lord Montjoy's brother,

Blount, then high in favour of Queen Elizabeth--"whose grandmother she

might be for his age and hers"--and with another brother Christopher

Blount, at that moment in confidential attendance upon Lord Leicester in

Holland. Now Poley, and both the Blounts, were, in reality, Papists, and

in intimate correspondence with the agents of the Queen of Scots, both at

home and abroad, although "forced to fawn upon Leicester, to see if they

might thereby live quiet." They had a secret "alphabet," or cipher, among

them, and protested warmly, that they "honoured the ground whereon Queen

Mary trod better than Leicester with all his generation; and that they

felt bound to serve her who was the only saint living on the earth."

It may be well understood then that the Earl's position was a slippery

one, and that great assumption might be unsafe. "He taketh the matter

upon him," wrote Morgan to the Queen of Scots, "as though he were an

absolute king; but he hath many personages about him of good place out of

England, the best number whereof desire nothing more than his confusion.

Some of them be gone with him to avoid the persecution for religion in

England. My poor advice and labour shall not be wanting to give Leicester

all dishonour, which will fall upon him in the end with shame enough;

though for the present he be very strong." Many of these personages of

good place, and enjoying "charge and credit" with the Earl had very

serious plans in their heads. Some of them meant "for the service of God,

and the advantage of the King of Spain, to further the delivery of some

notable towns in Holland and Zeeland to the said King and his ministers,"

and we are like to hear of these individuals again.

Meantime, the Earl of Leicester was at the Hague. Why was he there? What

was his work? Why had Elizabeth done such violence to her affection as to

part with her favourite-in-chief; and so far overcome her thrift, as to

furnish forth, rather meagrely to be sure, that little army of

Englishmen? Why had the flower of England's chivalry set foot upon that

dark and bloody ground where there seemed so much disaster to encounter,

and so little glory to reap? Why had England thrown herself so heroically

into the breach, just as the last bulwarks were falling which protected

Holland from the overwhelming onslaught of Spain? It was because Holland

was the threshold of England; because the two countries were one by

danger and by destiny; because the naval expedition from Spain against

England was already secretly preparing; because the deposed tyrant of

Spain intended the Provinces, when again subjugated, as a steppingstone

to the conquest of England; because the naval and military forces of

Holland--her numerous ships, her hardy mariners, her vast wealth, her

commodious sea-ports, close to the English coast--if made Spanish

property would render Philip invincible by sea and land; and because the

downfall of Holland and of Protestantism would be death to Elizabeth, and

annihilation to England.

There was little doubt on the subject in the minds of those engaged in

this expedition. All felt most keenly the importance of the game, in

which the Queen was staking her crown, and England its national

existence.

"I pray God," said Wilford, an officer much in Walsingham's confidence,

"that I live not to see this enterprise quail, and with it the utter

subversion of religion throughout all Christendom. It may be I may be

judged to be afraid of my own shadow. God grant it be so. But if her

Majesty had not taken the helm in hand, and my Lord of Leicester sent

over, this country had been gone ere this. . . . This war doth defend

England. Who is he that will refuse to spend his life and living in it?

If her Majesty consume twenty thousand men in the cause, the experimented

men that will remain will double that strength to the realm."

This same Wilford commanded a company in Ostend, and was employed by

Leicester in examining the defences of that important place. He often

sent information to the Secretary, "troubling him with the rude stile of

a poor soldier, being driven to scribble in haste." He reiterated, in

more than one letter, the opinion, that twenty thousand men consumed in

the war would be a saving in the end, and his own determination--although

he had intended retiring from the military profession--to spend not only

his life in the cause, but also the poor living that God had given him.

"Her Highness hath now entered into it," he said; "the fire is kindled;

whosoever suffers it to go out, it will grow dangerous to that side. The

whole state of religion is in question, and the realm of England also, if

this action quail. God grant we never live to see that doleful day. Her

Majesty hath such footing now in these parts, as I judge it impossible

for the King to weary her out, if every man will put to the work his

helping hand, whereby it may be lustily followed, and the war not

suffered to cool. The freehold of England will be worth but little, if

this action quail, and therefore I wish no subject to spare his purse

towards it."

Spain moved slowly. Philip the Prudent was not sudden or rash, but his

whole life had proved, and was to prove, him inflexible in his purposes,

and patient in his attempts to carry them into effect, even when the

purposes had become chimerical, and the execution impossible. Before the

fall of Antwerp he had matured his scheme for the invasion of England, in

most of its details--a necessary part of which was of course the

reduction of Holland and Zeeland. "Surely no danger nor fear of any

attempt can grow to England," wrote Wilford, "so long as we can hold this

country good." But never was honest soldier more mistaken than he, when

he added:--"The Papists will make her Highness afraid of a great fleet

now preparing in Spain. We hear it also, but it is only a scare-crow to

cool the enterprise here."

It was no scare-crow. On the very day on which Wilford was thus writing

to Walsingham, Philip the Second was writing to Alexander Farnese. "The

English," he said, "with their troops having gained a footing in the

islands (Holland and Zeeland) give me much anxiety. The English Catholics

are imploring me with much importunity to relieve them from the

persecution they are suffering. When you sent me a plan, with the coasts,

soundings, quicksands, and ports of England, you said that the enterprise

of invading that country should be deferred till we had reduced the

isles; that, having them, we could much more conveniently attack England;

or that at least we should wait till we had got Antwerp. As the city is

now taken, I want your advice now about the invasion of England. To cut

the root of the evils constantly growing up there, both for God's service

and mine, is desirable. So many evils will thus be remedied, which would

not be by only warring with the islands. It would be an uncertain and

expensive war to go to sea for the purpose of chastising the insolent

English corsairs, however much they deserve chastisement. I charge you to

be secret, to give the matter your deepest attention, and to let me have

your opinions at once." Philip then added a postscript, in his own hand,

concerning the importance of acquiring a sea-port in Holland, as a basis

of operations against England. "Without a port," he said, "we can do

nothing whatever."

A few weeks later, the Grand Commander of Castile, by Philip's orders,

and upon subsequent information received from the Prince of Parma, drew

up an elaborate scheme for the invasion of England, and for the

government of that country afterwards; a program according to which the

King was to shape his course for a long time to come. The plot was an

excellent plot. Nothing could be more artistic, more satisfactory to the

prudent monarch; but time was to show whether there might not be some

difficulty in the way of its satisfactory development.

"The enterprise," said the Commander, "ought certainly to be undertaken

as serving the cause of the Lord. From the Pope we must endeavour to

extract a promise of the largest aid we can get for the time when the

enterprise can be undertaken. We must not declare that time however, in

order to keep the thing a secret, and because perhaps thus more will be

promised, under the impression that it will never take effect. He added

that the work could not well be attempted before August or September of

the following year; the only fear of such delay being that the French

could hardly be kept during all that time in a state of revolt." For this

was a uniform portion of the great scheme. France was to be kept, at

Philip's expense, in a state of perpetual civil war; its every city and

village to be the scene of unceasing conflict and bloodshed--subjects in

arms against king, and family against family; and the Netherlands were to

be ravaged with fire and sword; all this in order that the path might be

prepared for Spanish soldiers into the homes of England. So much of

misery to the whole human race was it in the power of one painstaking

elderly valetudinarian to inflict, by never for an instant neglecting the

business of his life.

Troops and vessels for the English invasion ought, in the Commander's

opinion, to be collected in Flanders, under colour of an enterprise

against Holland and Zeeland, while the armada to be assembled in Spain,

of galleons, galeazas, and galleys, should be ostensibly for an

expedition to the Indies.

Then, after the conquest, came arrangements for the government of

England. Should Philip administer his new kingdom by a viceroy, or should

he appoint a king out of his own family? On the whole the chances for the

Prince of Parma seemed the best of any. "We must liberate the Queen of

Scotland," said the Grand Commander, "and marry her to some one or

another, both in order to put her out of love with her son, and to

conciliate her devoted adherents. Of course the husband should be one of

your Majesty's nephews, and none could be so appropriate as the Prince of

Parma, that great captain, whom his talents, and the part he has to bear

in the business, especially indicate for that honour."

Then there was a difficulty about the possible issue of such a marriage.

The Farneses claimed Portugal; so that children sprung from the

bloodroyal of England blended with that of Parma, might choose to make

those pretensions valid. But the objection was promptly solved by the

Commander:--"The Queen of Scotland is sure to have no children," he said.

That matter being adjusted, Parma's probable attitude as King of England

was examined. It was true his ambition might cause occasional uneasiness,

but then he might make himself still more unpleasant in the Netherlands.

"If your Majesty suspects him," said the Commander, "which, after all, is

unfair, seeing the way, in which he has been conducting himself--it is to

be remembered that in Flanders are similar circumstances and

opportunities, and that he is well armed, much beloved in the country,

and that the natives are of various humours. The English plan will

furnish an honourable departure for him out of the Provinces; and the

principle of loyal obligation will have much influence over so chivalrous

a knight as he, when he is once placed on the English throne. Moreover,

as he will be new there, he will have need of your Majesty's favour to

maintain himself, and there will accordingly be good correspondence with

Holland and the Islands. Thus your Majesty can put the Infanta and her

husband into full possession of all the Netherlands; having provided them

with so excellent a neighbour in England, and one so closely bound and

allied to them. Then, as he is to have no English children" (we have seen

that the Commander had settled that point) "he will be a very good

mediator to arrange adoptions, especially if you make good provision for

his son Rainuccio in Italy. The reasons in favour of this plan being so

much stronger than those against it, it would be well that your Majesty

should write clearly to the Prince of Parma, directing him to conduct the

enterprise" (the English invasion), "and to give him the first offer for

this marriage (with Queen Mary) if he likes the scheme. If not, he had

better mention which of the Archdukes should be substituted in his

place."

There happened to be no lack of archdukes at that period for anything

comfortable that might offer--such as a throne in England, Holland, or

France--and the Austrian House was not remarkable for refusing convenient

marriages; but the immediate future only could show whether Alexander I.

of the House of Farnese was to reign in England, or whether the next king

of that country was to be called Matthias, Maximilian, or Ernest of

Hapsburg.

Meantime the Grand Commander was of opinion that the invasion-project was

to be pushed forward as rapidly and as secretly as possible; because,

before any one of Philip's nephews could place himself upon the English

throne, it was first necessary to remove Elizabeth from that position.

Before disposing of the kingdom, the preliminary step of conquering it

was necessary. Afterwards it would be desirable, without wasting more

time than was requisite, to return with a large portion of the invading

force out of England, in order to complete the conquest of Holland. For

after all, England was to be subjugated only as a portion of one general

scheme; the main features of which were the reannexation of Holland and

"the islands," and the acquisition of unlimited control upon the seas.

Thus the invasion of England was no "scarecrow," as Wilford imagined, but

a scheme already thoroughly matured. If Holland and Zeeland should

meantime fall into the hands of Philip, it was no exaggeration on that

soldier's part to observe that the "freehold of England would be worth

but little."

To oppose this formidable array against the liberties of Europe stood

Elizabeth Tudor and the Dutch Republic. For the Queen, however arbitrary

her nature, fitly embodied much of the nobler elements in the expanding

English national character. She felt instinctively that her reliance in

the impending death-grapple was upon the popular principle, the national

sentiment, both in her own country and in Holland. That principle and

that sentiment were symbolized in the Netherland revolt; and England,

although under a somewhat despotic rule, was already fully pervaded with

the instinct of self-government. The people held the purse and the sword.

No tyranny could be permanently established so long as the sovereign was

obliged to come every year before Parliament to ask for subsidies; so

long as all the citizens and yeomen of England had weapons in their

possession, and were carefully trained to use them; so long, in short, as

the militia was the only army, and private adventurers or trading

companies created and controlled the only navy. War, colonization,

conquest, traffic, formed a joint business and a private speculation. If

there were danger that England, yielding to purely mercantile habits of

thought and action, might degenerate from the more martial standard to

which she had been accustomed, there might be virtue in that Netherland

enterprise, which was now to call forth all her energies. The Provinces

would be a seminary for English soldiers.

"There can be no doubt of our driving the enemy out of the country

through famine and excessive charges," said the plain-spoken English

soldier already quoted, who came out with Leicester, "if every one of us

will put our minds to go forward without making a miserable gain by the

wars. A man may see, by this little progress journey, what this long

peace hath wrought in us. We are weary of the war before we come where it

groweth, such a danger hath this long peace brought us into. This is, and

will be, in my opinion, a most fit school and nursery to nourish soldiers

to be able to keep and defend our country hereafter, if men will follow

it."

Wilford was vehement in denouncing the mercantile tendencies of his

countrymen, and returned frequently to that point in his communications

with Walsingham and other statesmen. "God hath stirred up this action,"

he repeated again, "to be a school to breed up soldiers to defend the

freedom of England, which through these long times of peace and quietness

is brought into a most dangerous estate, if it should be attempted. Our

delicacy is such that we are already weary, yet this journey is naught in

respect to the misery and hardship that soldiers must and do endure."

He was right in his estimate of the effect likely to be produced by the

war upon the military habits of Englishmen; for there can be no doubt

that the organization and discipline of English troops was in anything

but a satisfactory state at that period. There was certainly vast room

for improvement. Nevertheless he was wrong in his views of the leading

tendencies of his age. Holland and England, self-helping, self-moving,

were already inaugurating a new era in the history of the world. The

spirit of commercial maritime enterprise--then expanding rapidly into

large proportions--was to be matched against the religious and knightly

enthusiasm which had accomplished such wonders in an age that was passing

away. Spain still personified, and had ever personified, chivalry,

loyalty, piety; but its chivalry, loyalty, and piety, were now in a

corrupted condition. The form was hollow, and the sacred spark had fled.

In Holland and England intelligent enterprise had not yet degenerated

into mere greed for material prosperity. The love of danger, the thirst

for adventure, the thrilling sense of personal responsibility and human

dignity--not the base love for land and lucre--were the governing

sentiments which led those bold Dutch and English rovers to

circumnavigate the world in cockle-shells, and to beard the most potent

monarch on the earth, both at home and abroad, with a handful of

volunteers.

This then was the contest, and this the machinery by which it was to be

maintained. A struggle for national independence, liberty of conscience,

freedom of the seas, against sacerdotal and world-absorbing tyranny; a

mortal combat of the splendid infantry of Spain and Italy, the

professional reiters of Germany, the floating castles of a world-empire,

with the militiamen and mercantile-marine of England and Holland united.

Holland had been engaged twenty years long in the conflict. England had

thus far escaped it; but there was no doubt, and could be none, that her

time had come. She must fight the battle of Protestantism on sea and

shore, shoulder to shoulder, with the Netherlanders, or await the

conqueror's foot on her own soil.

What now was the disposition and what the means of the Provinces to do

their part in the contest? If the twain as Holland wished, had become of

one flesh, would England have been the loser? Was it quite sure that

Elizabeth--had she even accepted the less compromising title which she

refused--would not have been quite as much the protected as the

"protectress?"

It is very certain that the English, on their arrival in the Provinces,

were singularly impressed by the opulent and stately appearance of the

country and its inhabitants. Notwithstanding the tremendous war which the

Hollanders had been waging against Spain for twenty years, their commerce

had continued to thrive, and their resources to increase. Leicester was

in a state of constant rapture at the magnificence which surrounded him,

from his first entrance into the country. Notwithstanding the admiration

expressed by the Hollanders for the individual sumptuousness of the

Lieutenant-General; his followers, on their part, were startled by the

general luxury of their new allies. "The realm is rich and full of men,"

said Wilford, "the sums men exceed in apparel would bear the brunt of

this war;" and again, "if the excess used in sumptuous apparel were only

abated, and that we could convert the same to these wars, it would stop a

great gap."

The favourable view taken by the English as to the resources and

inclination of the Netherland commonwealth was universal. "The general

wish and desire of these countrymen," wrote Sir Thomas Shirley, "is that

the amity begun between England and this nation may be everlasting, and

there is not any of our company of judgment but wish the same. For all

they that see the goodliness and stateliness of these towns, strengthened

both with fortification and natural situation, all able to defend

themselves with their own abilities, must needs think it too fair a prey

to be let pass, and a thing most worthy to be embraced."

Leicester, whose enthusiasm continued to increase as rapidly as the

Queen's zeal seemed to be cooling, was most anxious lest the

short-comings of his own Government should work irreparable evil. "I pray

you, my lord," he wrote to Burghley, "forget not us poor exiles; if you

do, God must and will forget you. And great pity it were that so noble

provinces and goodly havens, with such infinite ships and mariners,

should not be always as they may now easily be, at the assured devotion

of England. In my opinion he can neither love Queen nor country that

would not wish and further it should be so. And seeing her Majesty is

thus far entered into the cause, and that these people comfort themselves

in full hope of her favour, it were a sin and a shame it should not be

handled accordingly, both for honour and surety."

Sir John Conway, who accompanied the Earl through the whole of his

"progress journey," was quite as much struck as he by the flourishing

aspect and English proclivities of the Provinces. "The countries which we

have passed," he said, "are fertile in their nature; the towns, cities,

buildings, of snore state and beauty, to such as have travelled other

countries, than any they have ever seen. The people the most industrious

by all means to live that be in the world, and, no doubt, passing rich.

They outwardly show themselves of good heart, zeal, and loyalty, towards

the Queen our mistress. There is no doubt that the general number of them

had rather come under her Majesty's regiment, than to continue under the

States and burgomasters of their country. The impositions which they lay

in defence of their State is wonderful. If her Highness proceed in this

beginning, she may retain these parts hers, with their good love, and her

great glory and gain. I would she might as perfectly see the whole

country, towns, profits, and pleasures thereof, in a glass, as she may

her own face; I do then assure myself she would with careful

consideration receive them, and not allow of any man's reason to the

contrary . . . . The country is worthy any prince in the world, the

people do reverence the Queen, and in love of her do so believe that the

Grace of Leicester is by God and her sent among them for her good. And

they believe in him for the redemption of their bodies, as they do in God

for their souls. I dare pawn my soul, that if her Majesty will allow him

the just and rightful mean to manage this cause, that he will so handle

the manner and matter as shall highly both please and profit her Majesty,

and increase her country, and his own honour."

Lord North, who held a high command in the auxiliary force, spoke also

with great enthusiasm. "Had your Lordship seen," he wrote to Burghley,

"with what thankful hearts these countries receive all her Majesty's

subjects, what multitudes of people they be, what stately cities and

buildings they have, how notably fortified by art, how strong by nature,

flow fertile the whole country, and how wealthy it is, you would, I know,

praise the Lord that opened your lips to undertake this enterprise, the

continuance and good success whereof will eternise her Majesty, beautify

her crown, with the most shipping, with the most populous and wealthy

countries, that ever prince added to his kingdom, or that is or can be

found in Europe. I lack wit, good my Lord, to dilate this matter."

Leicester, better informed than some of those in his employment,

entertained strong suspicions concerning Philip's intentions with regard

to England; but he felt sure that the only way to laugh at a Spanish

invasion was to make Holland and England as nearly one as it was possible

to do.

"No doubt that the King of Spain's preparations by sea be great," he,

said; "but I know that all that he and his friends can make are not able

to match with her Majesty's forces, if it please her to use the means

that God hath given her. But besides her own, if she need; I will

undertake to furnish her from hence, upon two months' warning, a navy for

strong and tall ships, with their furniture and mariners, that the King

of Spain, and all that he can make, shall not be able to encounter with

them. I think the bruit of his preparations is made the greater to

terrify her Majesty and this country people. But, thanked be God, her

Majesty hath little cause to fear him. And in this country they esteem no

more of his power by sea than I do of six fisher-boats off Rye."

Thus suggestive is it to peep occasionally behind the curtain. In the

calm cabinet of the Escorial, Philip and his comendador mayor are laying

their heads together, preparing the invasion of England; making

arrangements for King Alexander's coronation in that island, and--like

sensible, farsighted persons as they are--even settling the succession to

the throne after Alexander's death, instead of carelessly leaving such

distant details to chance, or subsequent consideration. On the other

hand, plain Dutch sea-captains, grim beggars of the sea, and the like,

denizens of a free commonwealth and of the boundless ocean-men who are at

home on blue water, and who have burned gunpowder against those

prodigious slave-rowed galleys of Spain--together with their new allies,

the dauntless mariners of England--who at this very moment are "singeing

the King of Spain's beard," as it had never been singed before--are not

so much awestruck with the famous preparations for invasion as was

perhaps to be expected. There may be a delay, after all, before Parma can

be got safely established in London, and Elizabeth in Orcus, and before

the blood-tribunal of the Inquisition can substitute its sway for that of

the "most noble, wise, and learned United States." Certainly, Philip the

Prudent would have been startled, difficult as he was to astonish, could

he have known that those rebel Hollanders of his made no more account of

his slowly-preparing invincible armada than of six fisher-boats off Rye.

Time alone could show where confidence had been best placed. Meantime it

was certain, that it well behoved Holland and England to hold hard

together, nor let "that enterprise quail."

The famous expedition of Sir Francis Drake was the commencement of a

revelation. "That is the string," said Leicester, "that touches the King

indeed." It was soon to be made known to the world that the ocean was not

a Spanish Lake, nor both the Indies the private property of Philip.

"While the riches of the Indies continue," said Leicester, "he thinketh

he will be able to weary out all other princes; and I know, by good

means, that he more feareth this action of Sir Francis than he ever did

anything that has been attempted against him." With these continued

assaults upon the golden treasure-houses of Spain, and by a determined

effort to maintain the still more important stronghold which had been

wrested from her in the Netherlands, England might still be safe. "This

country is so full of ships and mariners," said Leicester, "so abundant

in wealth, and in the means to make money, that, had it but stood

neutral, what an aid had her Majesty been deprived of. But if it had been

the enemy's also, I leave it to your consideration what had been likely

to ensue. These people do now honour and love her Majesty in marvellous

sort."

There was but one feeling on this most important subject among the

English who went to the Netherlands. All held the same language. The

question was plainly presented to England whether she would secure to

herself the great bulwark of her defence, or place it in the hands of her

mortal foe? How could there be doubt or supineness on such a momentous

subject? "Surely, my Lord," wrote Richard Cavendish to Burghley, "if you

saw the wealth, the strength, the shipping, and abundance of mariners,

whereof these countries stand furnished, your heart would quake to think

that so hateful an enemy as Spain should again be furnished with such

instruments; and the Spaniards themselves do nothing doubt upon the hope

of the consequence hereof, to assure themselves of the certain ruin of

her Majesty and the whole estate."

And yet at the very outset of Leicester's administration, there was a

whisper of peace-overtures to Spain, secretly made by Elizabeth in her

own behalf, and in that of the Provinces. We shall have soon occasion to

examine into the truth of these rumours, which, whether originating in

truth or falsehood, were most pernicious in their effects. The Hollanders

were determined never to return to slavery again, so long as they could

fire a shot in their own defence. They earnestly wished English

cooperation, but it was the cooperation of English matchlocks and English

cutlasses, not English protocols and apostilles. It was military, not

diplomatic machinery that they required. If they could make up their

minds to submit to Philip and the Inquisition again, Philip and the Holy

office were but too ready to receive the erring penitents to their

embrace without a go-between.

It was war, not peace, therefore, that Holland meant by the English

alliance. It was war, not peace, that Philip intended. It was war, not

peace, that Elizabeth's most trusty counsellors knew to be inevitable.

There was also, as we have shown, no doubt whatever as to the good

disposition, and the great power of the republic to bear its share in the

common cause. The enthusiasm of the Hollanders was excessive. "There was

such a noise, both in Delft, Rotterdam, and Dort," said Leicester, "in

crying 'God save the Queen!' as if she had been in Cheapside." Her own

subjects could not be more loyal than were the citizens and yeomen of

Holland. "The members of the States dare not but be Queen Elizabeth's,"

continued the Earl, "for by the living God! if there should fall but the

least unkindness through their default, the people would kill them. All

sorts of people, from highest to lowest, assure themselves, now that they

have her Majesty's good countenance, to beat all the Spaniards out of

their country. Never was there people in such jollity as these be. I

could be content to lose a limb, could her Majesty see these countries

and towns as I have done." He was in truth excessively elated, and had

already, in imagination, vanquished Alexander Farnese, and eclipsed the

fame of William the Silent. "They will serve under me," he observed,

"with a better will than ever they served under the Prince of Orange. Yet

they loved him well, but they never hoped of the liberty of this country

till now."

Thus the English government had every reason to be satisfied with the

aspect of its affairs in the Netherlands. But the nature of the Earl's

authority was indefinite. The Queen had refused the sovereignty and the

protectorate. She had also distinctly and peremptorily forbidden

Leicester to assume any office or title that might seem at variance with

such a refusal on her part. Yet it is certain that, from the very first,

he had contemplated some slight disobedience to these prohibitions. "What

government is requisite"--wrote he in a secret memorandum of "things most

necessary to understand"--"to be appointed to him that shall be their

governor? First, that he have as much authority as the Prince of Orange,

or any other governor or captain-general, hath had heretofore." Now the

Prince of Orange hath been stadholder of each of the United Provinces,

governor-general, commander-in-chief, count of Holland in prospect, and

sovereign, if he had so willed it. It would doubtless have been most

desirable for the country, in its confused condition, had there been a

person competent to wield, and willing to accept, the authority once

exercised by William I. But it was also certain that this was exactly the

authority which Elizabeth had forbidden Leicester to assume. Yet it is

difficult to understand what position the Queen intended that her

favourite should maintain, nor how he was to carry out her instructions,

while submitting to her prohibitions. He was directed to cause the

confused government of the Provinces to be redressed, and a better form

of polity to be established. He was ordered, in particular, to procure a

radical change in the constitution, by causing the deputies to the

General Assembly to be empowered to decide upon important matters,

without, as had always been the custom, making direct reference to the

assemblies of the separate Provinces. He was instructed to bring about,

in some indefinite way, a complete reform in financial matters, by

compelling the States-General to raise money by liberal taxation,

according to the "advice of her Majesty, delivered unto them by her

lieutenant."

And how was this radical change in the institutions of the Provinces to

be made by an English earl, whose only authority was that of

commander-in-chief over five thousand half-starved, unpaid,

utterly-forlorn English troops?

The Netherland envoys in England, in their parting advice, most

distinctly urged him "to hale authority with the first, to declare

himself chief head and governor-general" of the whole country,--for it

was a political head that was wanted in order to restore unity of

action--not an additional general, where there were already generals in

plenty. Sir John Norris, valiant, courageous, experienced--even if not,

as Walsingham observed, a "religious soldier," nor learned in anything

"but a kind of licentious and corrupt government"--was not likely to

require the assistance of the new lieutenant-general in field operations

nor could the army be brought into a state of thorough discipline and

efficiency by the magic of Leicester's name. The rank and file of the

English army--not the commanders-needed strengthening. The soldiers

required shoes and stockings, bread and meat, and for these articles

there were not the necessary funds, nor would the title of

Lieutenant-General supply the deficiency. The little auxiliary force was,

in truth, in a condition most pitiable to behold: it was difficult to say

whether the soldiers who had been already for a considerable period in

the Netherlands, or those who had been recently levied in the purlieus of

London, were in the most unpromising plight. The beggarly state in which

Elizabeth had been willing that her troops should go forth to the wars

was a sin and a disgrace. Well might her Lieutenant-General say that her

"poor subjects were no better than abjects." There were few effective

companies remaining of the old force. "There is but a small number of the

first bands left," said Sir John Conway, "and those so pitiful and unable

ever to serve again, as I leave to speak further of theirs, to avoid

grief to your heart. A monstrous fault there hath been somewhere."

Leicester took a manful and sagacious course at starting. Those who had

no stomach for the fight were ordered to depart. The chaplain gave them

sermons; the Lieutenant-General, on St. Stephen's day, made them a "pithy

and honourable" oration, and those who had the wish or the means to buy

themselves out of the adventure, were allowed to do so: for the Earl was

much disgusted with the raw material out of which he was expected to

manufacture serviceable troops. Swaggering ruffians from the disreputable

haunts of London, cockney apprentices, brokendown tapsters, discarded

serving men; the Bardolphs and Pistols, Mouldys, Warts, and the

like--more at home in tavern-brawls or in dark lanes than on the

battle-field--were not the men to be entrusted with the honour of England

at a momentous crisis. He spoke with grief and shame of the worthless

character and condition of the English youths sent over to the

Netherlands. "Believe me," said he, "you will all repent the cockney kind

of bringing up at this day of young men. They be gone hence with shame

enough, and too many, that I will warrant, will make as many frays with

bludgeons and bucklers as any in London shall do; but such shall never

have credit with me again. Our simplest men in show have been our best

men, and your gallant blood and ruffian men the worst of all others."

Much winnowed, as it was, the small force might in time become more

effective; and the Earl spent freely of his own substance to supply the

wants of his followers, and to atone for the avarice of his sovereign.

The picture painted however by muster-master Digger of the plumed troops

that had thus come forth to maintain the honour of England and the cause

of liberty, was anything but imposing. None knew better than Digges their

squalid and slovenly condition, or was more anxious to effect a

reformation therein. "A very wise, stout fellow he is," said the Earl,

"and very careful to serve thoroughly her Majesty." Leicester relied much

upon his efforts. "There is good hope," said the muster-master, "that his

excellency will shortly establish such good order for the government and

training of our nation, that these weak, bad-furnished, ill-armed, and

worse-trained bands, thus rawly left unto him, shall within a few months

prove as well armed, trained, complete, gallant companies as shall be

found elsewhere in Europe." The damage they were likely to inflict upon

the enemy seemed very problematical, until they should have been improved

by some wholesome ball-practice. "They are so unskilful," said Digger,

"that if they should be carried to the field no better trained than yet

they are, they would prove much more dangerous to their own leaders and

companies than any ways serviceable on their enemies. The hard and

miserable estate of the soldiers generally, excepting officers, hath been

such, as by the confessions of the captains themselves, they have been

offered by many of their soldiers thirty and forty pounds a piece to be

dismissed and sent away; whereby I doubt not the flower of the pressed

English bands are gone, and the remnant supplied with such paddy persons

as commonly, in voluntary procurements, men are glad to accept."

Even after the expiration of four months the condition of the paddy

persons continued most destitute. The English soldiers became mere

barefoot starving beggars in the streets, as had never been the case in

the worst of times, when the States were their paymasters. The little

money brought from the treasury by the Earl, and the large sums which he

had contributed out of his own pocket, had been spent in settling, and

not fully settling, old scores. "Let me entreat you," wrote Leicester to

Walsingham, "to be a mean to her Majesty, that the poor soldiers be not

beaten for my sake. There came no penny of treasure over since my coming

hither. That which then came was most part due before it came. There is

much still due. They cannot get a penny, their credit is spent, they

perish for want of victuals and clothing in great numbers. The whole are

ready to mutiny. They cannot be gotten out to service, because they

cannot discharge the debts they owe in the places where they are. I have

let of my own more than I may spare."--"There was no soldier yet able to

buy himself a pair of hose," said the Earl again, "and it is too, too

great shame to see how they go, and it kills their hearts to show

themselves among men."

There was no one to dispute the Earl's claims. The Nassau family was

desperately poor, and its chief, young Maurice, although he had been

elected stadholder of Holland and Zeeland, had every disposition--as Sir

Philip upon his arrival in Flushing immediately informed his uncle--to

submit to the authority of the new governor. Louisa de Coligny, widow of

William the Silent, was most anxious for the English alliance, through

which alone she believed that the fallen fortunes of the family could be

raised. It was thus only, she thought, that the vengeance for which she

thirsted upon the murderers of her father and her husband could be

obtained. "We see now," she wrote to Walsingham, in a fiercer strain than

would seem to comport with so gentle a nature--deeply wronged as the

daughter of Coligny and the wife of Orange had been by Papists--"we see

now the effects of our God's promises. He knows when it pleases Him to

avenge the blood of His own; and I confess that I feel most keenly the

joy which is shared in by the whole Church of God. There is none that has

received more wrong from these murderers than I have done, and I esteem

myself happy in the midst of my miseries that God has permitted me to see

some vengeance. These beginnings make me hope that I shall see yet more,

which will be not less useful to the good, both in your country and in

these isles."

There was no disguise as to the impoverished condition to which the

Nassau family had been reduced by the self-devotion of its chief. They

were obliged to ask alms of England, until the "sapling should become a

tree."--"Since it is the will of God," wrote the Princess to Davison, "I

am not ashamed to declare the necessity of our house, for it is in His

cause that it has fallen. I pray you, Sir, therefore to do me and these

children the favour to employ your thoughts in this regard." If there had

been any strong French proclivities on their part--as had been so warmly

asserted--they were likely to disappear. Villiers, who had been a

confidential friend of William the Silent, and a strong favourer of

France, in vain endeavoured to keep alive the ancient sentiments towards

that country, although he was thought to be really endeavouring to bring

about a submission of the Nassaus to Spain. "This Villiers," said

Leicester, "is a most vile traitorous knave, and doth abuse a young

nobleman here extremely, the Count Maurice. For all his religion, he is a

more earnest persuader secretly to have him yield to a reconciliation

than Sainte Aldegonde was. He shall not tarry ten days neither in Holland

nor Zeeland. He is greatly hated here of all sorts, and it shall go hard

but I will win the young Count."

As for Hohenlo, whatever his opinions might once have been regarding the

comparative merits of Frenchmen and Englishmen, he was now warmly in

favour of England, and expressed an intention of putting an end to the

Villiers' influence by simply drowning Villiers. The announcement of this

summary process towards the counsellor was not untinged with rudeness

towards the pupil. "The young Count," said Leicester, "by Villiers'

means, was not willing to have Flushing rendered, which the Count Hollock

perceiving, told the Count Maurice, in a great rage, that if he took any

course than that of the Queen of England, and swore by no beggars, he

would drown his priest in the haven before his face, and turn himself and

his mother-in-law out of their house there, and thereupon went with Mr.

Davison to the delivery of it." Certainly, if Hohenlo permitted himself

such startling demonstrations towards the son and widow of William the

Silent, it must have been after his habitual potations had been of the

deepest. Nevertheless it was satisfactory for the new chieftain to know

that the influence of so vehement a partisan was secured for England. The

Count's zeal deserved gratitude upon Leicester's part, and Leicester was

grateful. "This man must be cherished," said the Earl; "he is sound and

faithful, and hath indeed all the chief holds in his hands, and at his

commandment. Ye shall do well to procure him a letter of thanks, taking

knowledge in general of his good-will to her Majesty. He is a right

Almayn in manner and fashion, free of his purse and of his drink, yet do

I wish him her Majesty's pensioner before any prince in Germany, for he

loves her and is able to serve her, and doth desire to be known her

servant. He hath been laboured by his nearest kinsfolk and friends in

Germany to have left the States and to have the King of Spain's pension

and very great reward; but he would not. I trust her Majesty will accept

of his offer to be her servant during his life, being indeed a very noble

soldier." The Earl was indeed inclined to take so cheerful view of

matters as to believe that he should even effect a reform in the noble

soldier's most unpleasant characteristic. "Hollock is a wise gallant

gentleman," he said, "and very well esteemed. He hath only one fault,

which is drinking; but good hope that he will amend it. Some make me

believe that I shall be able to do much with him, and I mean to do my

best, for I see no man that knows all these countries, and the people of

all sorts, like him, and this fault overthrows all."

Accordingly, so long as Maurice continued under the tutelage of this

uproarious cavalier--who, at a later day, was to become his

brother-in-law-he was not likely to interfere with Leicester's authority.

The character of the young Count was developing slowly. More than his

father had ever done, he deserved the character of the taciturn. A quiet

keen observer of men and things, not demonstrative nor talkative, nor

much given to writing--a modest, calm, deeply-reflecting student of

military and mathematical science--he was not at that moment deeply

inspired by political ambition. He was perhaps more desirous of raising

the fallen fortunes of his house than of securing the independence of his

country. Even at that early age, however, his mind was not easy to read,

and his character was somewhat of a puzzle to those who studied it. "I

see him much discontented with the States," said Leicester; "he hath a

sullen deep wit. The young gentleman is yet to be won only to her

Majesty, I perceive, of his own inclination. The house is marvellous poor

and little regarded by the States, and if they get anything it is like to

be by her Majesty, which should be altogether, and she may easily, do for

him to win him sure. I will undertake it." Yet the Earl was ever anxious

about some of the influences which surrounded Maurice, for he thought him

more easily guided than he wished him to be by any others but himself.

"He stands upon making and marring," he said, "as he meets with good

counsel." And at another time he observed, "The young gentleman hath a

solemn sly wit; but, in troth, if any be to be doubted toward the King of

Spain, it is he and his counsellors, for they have been altogether, so

far, French, and so far in mislike with England as they cannot almost

hide it."

And there was still another member of the house of Nassau who was already

an honour to his illustrious race. Count William Lewis, hardly more than

a boy in years, had already served many campaigns, and had been

desperately wounded in the cause for which so much of the heroic blood of

his race had been shed. Of the five Nassau brethren, his father Count

John was the sole survivor, and as devoted as ever to the cause of

Netherland liberty. The other four had already laid down their lives in

its defence. And William Lewis, was worthy to be the nephew of William

and Lewis, Henry and Adolphus, and the son of John. Not at all a

beautiful or romantic hero in appearance, but an odd-looking little man,

with a round bullet-head, close-clipped hair, a small, twinkling,

sagacious eye, rugged, somewhat puffy features screwed whimsically awry,

with several prominent warts dotting, without ornamenting, all that was

visible of a face which was buried up to the ears in a furzy thicket of

yellow-brown beard, the tough young stadholder of Friesland, in his iron

corslet, and halting upon his maimed leg, had come forth with other

notable personages to the Hague.

He wished to do honour heartily and freely to Queen Elizabeth and her

representative. And Leicester was favourably impressed with his new

acquaintance. "Here is another little fellow," he said, "as little as may

be, but one of the gravest and wisest young men that ever I spake withal;

it is the Count Guilliam of Nassau. He governs Friesland; I would every

Province had such another."

Thus, upon the great question which presented itself upon the very

threshold--the nature and extent of the authority to be exercised by

Leicester--the most influential Netherlanders were in favour of a large

and liberal interpretation of his powers. The envoys in England, the

Nassau family Hohenlo, the prominent members of the States, such as the

shrewd, plausible Menin, the "honest and painful" Falk, and the

chancellor of Gelderland--"that very great, wise, old man Leoninus," as

Leicester called him,--were all desirous that he should assume an

absolute governor-generalship over the whole country. This was a grave

and a delicate matter, and needed to be severely scanned, without delay.

But besides the natives, there were two Englishmen--together with

ambassador Davison--who were his official advisers. Bartholomew Clerk,

LL.D., and Sir Henry Killigrew had been appointed by the Queen to be

members of the council of the United States, according to the provisions

of the August treaty. The learned Bartholomew hardly seemed equal to his

responsible position among those long-headed Dutch politicians. Philip

Sidney--the only blemish in whose character was an intolerable tendency

to puns--observed that "Doctor Clerk was of those clerks that are not

always the wisest, and so my lord too late was finding him." The Earl

himself, who never undervalued the intellect of the Netherlanders whom he

came to govern, anticipated but small assistance from the English

civilian. "I find no great stuff in my little colleague," he said,

"nothing that I looked for. It is a pity you have no more of his

profession, able men to serve. This man hath good will, and a pretty

scholar's wit; but he is too little for these big fellows, as heavy as

her Majesty thinks them to be. I would she had but one or two, such as

the worst of half a score be here." The other English statecounsellor

seemed more promising. "I have one here," said the Earl, "in whom I take

no small comfort; that is little Hal Killigrew. I assure you, my lord, he

is a notable servant, and more in him than ever I heretofore thought of

him, though I always knew him to be an honest man and an able."

But of all the men that stood by Leicester's side, the most faithful,

devoted, sagacious, experienced, and sincere of his counsellors, English

or Flemish, was envoy Davison. It is important to note exactly the

opinion that had been formed of him by those most competent to judge,

before events in which he was called on to play a prominent and

responsible though secondary part, had placed him in a somewhat false

position.

"Mr. Davison," wrote Sidney, "is here very careful in her Majesty's

causes, and in your Lordship's. He takes great pains and goes to great

charges for it." The Earl himself was always vehement in his praise. "Mr.

Davison," said he at another time, "has dealt most painfully and

chargeably in her Majesty's service here, and you shall find him as

sufficiently able to deliver the whole state of this country as any man

that ever was in it, acquainted with all sorts here that are men of

dealing. Surely, my Lord, you shall do a good deed that he may be

remembered with her Majesty's gracious consideration, for his being here

has been very chargeable, having kept a very good countenance, and a very

good table, all his abode here, and of such credit with all the chief

sort, as I know no stranger in any place hath the like. As I am a suitor

to you to be his good friend to her Majesty, so I must heartily pray you,

good my Lord, to procure his coming hither shortly to me again, for I

know not almost how to do without him. I confess it is a wrong to the

gentleman, and I protest before God, if it were for mine own particular

respect, I would not require it for L5000. But your Lordship doth little

think how greatly I have to do, as also how needful for her Majesty's

service his being here will, be. Wherefore, good my Lord, if it may not

offend her Majesty, be a mean for this my request, for her own service'

sake wholly."

Such were the personages who surrounded the Earl on his arrival in the

Netherlands, and such their sentiments respecting the position that it

was desirable for him to assume. But there was one very important fact.

He had studiously concealed from Davison that the Queen had peremptorily

and distinctly forbidden his accepting the office of governor-general. It

seemed reasonable, if he came thither at all, that he should come in that

elevated capacity. The Staten wished it. The Earl ardently longed for it.

The ambassador, who knew more of Netherland politics and Netherland

humours than any man did, approved of it. The interests of both England

and Holland seemed to require it. No one but Leicester knew that her

Majesty had forbidden it.

Accordingly, no sooner had the bell-ringing, cannon-explosions, bonfires,

and charades, come to an end, and the Earl got fairly housed in the

Hague, than the States took the affair of government seriously in hand.

On the 9th January, Chancellor Leoninus and Paul Buys waited upon

Davison, and requested a copy of the commission granted by the Queen to

the Earl. The copy was refused, but the commission was read; by which it

appeared that he had received absolute command over her Majesty's forces

in the Netherlands by land and sea, together with authority to send for

all gentlemen and other personages out of England that he might think

useful to him. On the 10th the States passed a resolution to offer him

the governor-generalship over all the Provinces. On the same day another

committee waited upon his "Excellency"--as the States chose to denominate

the Earl, much to the subsequent wrath of the Queen--and made an

appointment for the whole body to wait upon him the following morning.

Upon that day accordingly--New Year's Day, by the English reckoning, 11th

January by the New Style--the deputies of all the States at an early hour

came to his lodgings, with much pomp, preceded by a herald and

trumpeters. Leicester, not expecting them quite so soon, was in his

dressing-room, getting ready for the solemn audience, when, somewhat to

his dismay, a flourish of trumpets announced the arrival of the whole

body in his principal hall of audience. Hastening his preparations as

much as possible, he descended to that apartment, and was instantly

saluted by a flourish of rhetoric still more formidable; for that "very

great, and wise old Leoninus," forthwith began an oration, which promised

to be of portentous length and serious meaning. The Earl was slightly

flustered, when, fortunately; some one whispered in his ear that they had

come to offer him the much-coveted prize of the stadholderate-general.

Thereupon he made bold to interrupt the flow of the chancellor's

eloquence in its first outpourings. "As this is a very private matter,"

said he, "it will be better to treat of it in a more private place I pray

you therefore to come into my chamber, where these things may be more

conveniently discussed."

"You hear what my Lord says," cried Leoninus, turning to his companions;

"we are to withdraw into his chamber."

Accordingly they withdrew, accompanied by the Earl, and by five or six

select counsellors, among whom were Davison and Dr. Clerk. Then the

chancellor once more commenced his harangue, and went handsomely through

the usual forms of compliment, first to the Queen, and then to her

representative, concluding with an earnest request that the

Earl--although her Majesty had declined the sovereignty "would take the

name and place of absolute governor and general of all their forces and

soldiers, with the disposition of their whole revenues and taxes."

So soon as the oration was concluded, Leicester; who did not speak

French, directed Davison to reply in that language.

The envoy accordingly, in name of the Earl, expressed the deepest

gratitude for this mark of the affection and confidence of the

States-General towards the Queen. He assured them that the step thus

taken by them would be the cause of still more favour and affection on

the part of her Majesty, who would unquestionably, from day to day,

augment the succour that she was extending to the Provinces in order to

relieve men from their misery. For himself, the Earl protested that he

could never sufficiently recompense the States for the honour which had

thus been conferred upon him, even if he should live one hundred lives.

Although he felt himself quite unable to sustain the weight of so great

an office, yet he declared that they might repose with full confidence on

his integrity and good intentions. Nevertheless, as the authority thus

offered to him was very arduous, and as the subject required deep

deliberation, he requested that the proposition should be reduced to

writing, and delivered into his hands. He might then come to a conclusion

thereupon, most conducive to the glory of God and the welfare of the

land.

Three days afterwards, 14th January, the offer, drawn up formally in

writing, was presented to envoy Davison, according to the request of

Leicester. Three days latter, 17th January, his Excellency having

deliberated upon the proposition, requested a committee of conference.

The conference took place the same day, and there was some discussion

upon matters of detail, principally relating to the matter of

contributions. The Earl, according to the report of the committee,

manifested no repugnance to the acceptance of the office, provided these

points could be satisfactorily adjusted. He seemed, on the contrary,

impatient, rather than reluctant; for, on the day following the

conference, he sent his secretary Gilpin with a somewhat importunate

message. "His Excellency was surprised," said the secretary, "that the

States were so long in coming to a resolution on the matters suggested by

him in relation to the offer of the government-general; nor could his

Excellency imagine the cause of the delay."

For, in truth, the delay was caused by an excessive, rather than a

deficient, appetite for power on the part of his Excellency. The States,

while conferring what they called the "absolute" government, by which it

afterwards appeared that they meant absolute, in regard to time, not to

function--were very properly desirous of retaining a wholesome control

over that government by means of the state-council. They wished not only

to establish such a council, as a check upon the authority of the new

governor, but to share with him at least in the appointment of the

members who were to compose the board. But the aristocratic Earl was

already restive under the thought of any restraint--most of all the

restraint of individuals belonging to what he considered the humbler

classes.

"Cousin, my lord ambassador," said he to Davison, "among your sober

companions be it always remembered, I beseech you, that your cousin have

no other alliance but with gentle blood. By no means consent that he be

linked in faster bonds than their absolute grant may yield him a free and

honourable government, to be able to do such service as shall be meet for

an honest man to perform in such a calling, which of itself is very

noble. But yet it is not more to be embraced, if I were to be led in

alliance by such keepers as will sooner draw my nose from the right scent

of the chace, than to lead my feet in the true pace to pursue the game I

desire to reach. Consider, I pray you, therefore, what is to be done, and

how unfit it will be in respect of my poor self, and how unacceptable to

her Majesty, and how advantageous to enemies that will seek holes in my

coat, if I should take so great a name upon me, and so little power. They

challenge acceptation already, and I challenge their absolute grant and

offer to me, before they spoke of any instructions; for so it was when

Leoninus first spoke to me with them all on New Years Day, as you

heard--offering in his speech all manner of absolute authority. If it

please them to confirm this, without restraining instructions, I will

willingly serve the States, or else, with such advising instructions as

the Dowager of Hungary had."

This was explicit enough, and Davison, who always acted for Leicester in

the negotiations with the States, could certainly have no doubt as to the

desires of the Earl, on the subject of "absolute" authority. He did

accordingly what he could to bring the States to his Excellency's way of

thinking; nor was he unsuccessful.

On the 22nd January, a committee of conference was sent by the States to

Leyden, in which city Leicester was making a brief visit. They were

instructed to procure his consent, if possible, to the appointment, by

the States themselves, of a council consisting of members from each

Province. If they could not obtain this concession, they were directed to

insist as earnestly as possible upon their right to present a double.

list of candidates, from which he was to make nominations. And if the one

and the other proposition should be refused, the States were then to

agree that his Excellency should freely choose and appoint a council of

state, consisting of native residents from every Province, for the period

of one year. The committee was further authorised to arrange the

commission for the governor, in accordance with these points; and to draw

up a set of instructions for the state-council, to the satisfaction of

his Excellency. The committee was also empowered to conclude the matter

at once, without further reference to the States.

Certainly a committee thus instructed was likely to be sufficiently

pliant. It had need to be, in order to bend to the humour of his

Excellency, which was already becoming imperious. The adulation which he

had received; the triumphal marches, the Latin orations, the flowers

strewn in his path, had produced their effect, and the Earl was almost

inclined to assume the airs of royalty. The committee waited upon him at

Leyden. He affected a reluctance to accept the "absolute" government, but

his coyness could not deceive such experienced statesmen as the "wise old

Leoliinus," or Menin, Maalzoon, Florin Thin, or Aitzma, who composed the

deputation. It was obvious enough to them that it was not a King Log that

had descended among them, but it was not a moment for complaining. The

governor elect insisted, of course, that the two Englishmen, according to

the treaty with her Majesty, should be members of, the council. He also,

at once, nominated Leoninus, Meetkerk, Brederode, Falck, and Paul Buys,

to the same office; thinking, no doubt, that these were five keepers--if

keepers he must have--who would not draw his nose off the scent, nor

prevent his reaching the game he hunted, whatever that game might be. It

was reserved for the future, however, to show, whether, the five were

like to hunt in company with him as harmoniously as he hoped. As to the

other counsellors, he expressed a willingness that candidates should be

proposed for him, as to whose qualifications he would make up his mind at

leisure.

This matter being satisfactorily adjusted-and certainly unless the game

pursued by the Earl was a crown royal, he ought to have been satisfied

with his success--the States received a letter from their committee at

Leyden, informing them that his Excellency, after some previous

protestations, had accepted the government (24th January, 1586).

It was agreed that he should be inaugurated Governor-General of the

United Provinces of Gelderland and Zutphen, Flanders, Holland, Zeeland,

Utrecht, Friesland, and all others in confederacy with them. He was to

have supreme military command by land and sea. He was to exercise supreme

authority in matters civil and political, according to the customs

prevalent in the reign of the Emperor Charles V. All officers, political,

civil, legal, were to be appointed by him out of a double or triple

nomination made by the States of the Provinces in which vacancies might

occur. The States-General were to assemble whenever and wherever he

should summon them. They were also--as were the States of each separate

Province--competent to meet together by their own appointment. The

Governor-General was to receive an oath of fidelity from the States, and

himself to swear the maintenance of the ancient laws, customs, and

privileges of the country.

The deed was done. In vain had an emissary of the French court been

exerting his utmost to prevent the consummation of this close alliance.

For the wretched government of Henry III., while abasing itself before

Philip II., and offering the fair cities and fertile plains of France as

a sacrifice to that insatiable ambition which wore the mask of religious

bigotry, was most anxious that Holland and England should not escape the

meshes by which it was itself enveloped. The agent at the Hague came

nominally upon some mercantile affairs, but in reality, according to

Leicester, "to impeach the States from binding themselves to her

Majesty." But he was informed that there was then no leisure for his

affairs; "for the States would attend to the service of the Queen of

England, before all princes in the world." The agent did not feel

complimented by the coolness of this reception; yet it was reasonable

enough, certainly, that the Hollanders should remember with bitterness

the contumely, which they had experienced the previous year in France.

The emissary was; however, much disgusted. "The fellow," said Leicester,

"took it in such snuff, that he came proudly to the States and offered

his letters, saying; 'Now I trust you have done all your sacrifices to

the Queen of England, and may yield me some leisure to read my masters

letters.'"--"But they so shook him, up," continued the Earl, "for naming

her Majesty in scorn--as they took it--that they hurled him his letters;

and bid him content himself;" and so on, much to the agent's

discomfiture, who retired in greater "snuff" than ever.

So much for the French influence. And now Leicester had done exactly what

the most imperious woman in the world, whose favour was the breath of his

life, had expressly forbidden him to do. The step having been taken, the

prize so tempting to his ambition having been snatched, and the policy

which had governed the united action of the States and himself seeming so

sound, what ought he to have done in order to avert the tempest which he

must have foreseen? Surely a man who knew so much of woman's nature and

of Elizabeth's nature as he did, ought to have attempted to conciliate

her affections, after having so deeply wounded her pride. He knew his

power. Besides the graces of his person and manner--which few women, once

impressed by them, could ever forget--he possessed the most insidious and

flattering eloquence, and, in absence, his pen was as wily as his tongue.

For the Earl was imbued with the very genius of courtship. None was

better skilled than he in the phrases of rapturous devotion, which were

music to the ear both of the woman and the Queen; and he knew his royal

mistress too well not to be aware that the language of passionate

idolatry, however extravagant, had rarely fallen unheeded upon her soul.

It was strange therefore, that in this emergency, he should not at once

throw himself upon her compassion without any mediator. Yet, on the

contrary, he committed the monstrous error of entrusting his defence to

envoy Davison, whom he determined to despatch at once with instructions

to the Queen, and towards whom he committed the grave offence of

concealing from him her previous prohibitions. But how could the Earl

fail to perceive that it was the woman, not the Queen, whom he should

have implored for pardon; that it was Robert Dudley, not William Davison,

who ought to have sued upon his knees. This whole matter of the

Netherland sovereignty and the Leicester stadholderate, forms a strange

psychological study, which deserves and requires some minuteness of

attention; for it was by the characteristics of these eminent personages

that the current history was deeply stamped.

Certainly, under the peculiar circumstances of the case, the first letter

conveying intelligence so likely to pique the pride of Elizabeth, should

have been a letter from Leicester. On the contrary, it proved to be a

dull formal epistle from the States.

And here again the assistance of the indispensable Davison was considered

necessary. On the 3rd February the ambassador--having announced his

intention of going to England, by command of his Excellency, so soon as

the Earl should have been inaugurated, for the purpose of explaining all

these important transactions to her Majesty--waited upon the States with

the request that they should prepare as speedily as might be their letter

to the Queen, with other necessary documents, to be entrusted to his

care. He also suggested that the draft or minute of their proposed

epistle should be submitted to him for advice--"because the humours of

her Majesty were best known to him."

Now the humours of her Majesty were best known to Leicester of all men in

the whole world, and it is inconceivable that he should have allowed so

many days and weeks to pass without taking these humours properly into

account. But the Earl's head was slightly turned by his sudden and

unexpected success. The game that he had been pursuing had fallen into

his grasp, almost at the very start, and it is not astonishing that he

should have been somewhat absorbed in the enjoyment of his victory.

Three days later (6th February) the minute of a letter to Elizabeth,

drawn up by Menin, was submitted to the ambassador; eight days after that

(14th February) Mr. Davison took leave of the States, and set forth for

the Brill on his way to England; and three or four days later yet, he was

still in that sea-port, waiting for a favourable wind. Thus from the 11th

January, N.S., upon which day the first offer of the absolute government

had been made to Leicester, nearly forty days had elapsed, during which

long period the disobedient Earl had not sent one line, private or

official, to her Majesty on this most important subject. And when at last

the Queen was to receive information of her favourite's delinquency, it

was not to be in his well-known handwriting and accompanied by his

penitent tears and written caresses, but to be laid before her with all

the formality of parchment and sealingwax, in the stilted diplomatic

jargon of those "highly-mighty, very learned, wise, and very foreseeing

gentlemen, my lords the States-General." Nothing could have been managed

with less adroitness.

Meantime, not heeding the storm gathering beyond the narrow seas, the new

governor was enjoying the full sunshine of power. On the 4th February the

ceremony of his inauguration took place, with great pomp and ceremony at

the Hague.

The beautiful, placid, village-capital of Holland wore much the same

aspect at that day as now. Clean, quiet, spacious streets, shaded with

rows of whispering poplars and umbrageous limes, broad sleepy

canals--those liquid highways alone; which glided in phantom silence the

bustle, and traffic, and countless cares of a stirring population--quaint

toppling houses, with tower and gable; ancient brick churches, with

slender spire and musical chimes; thatched cottages on the outskirts,

with stork-nests on the roofs--the whole without fortification save the

watery defences which enclosed it with long-drawn lines on every side;

such was the Count's park, or 's Graven Haage, in English called the

Hague.

It was embowered and almost buried out of sight by vast groves of oaks

and beeches. Ancient Badahuennan forests of sanguinary Druids, the "wild

wood without mercy" of Saxon savages, where, at a later period, sovereign

Dirks and Florences, in long succession of centuries, had ridden abroad

with lance in rest, or hawk on fist; or under whose boughs, in still

nearer days, the gentle Jacqueline had pondered and wept over her

sorrows, stretched out in every direction between the city and the

neighbouring sea. In the heart of the place stood the ancient palace of

the counts, built in the thirteenth century by William II. of Holland,

King of the Romans, with massive brick walls, cylindrical turrets,

pointed gable and rose-shaped windows, and with spacious coup-yard,

enclosed by feudal moat, drawbridge, and portcullis.

In the great banqueting-hall of the ancient palace, whose cedarn-roof of

magnificent timber-work, brought by crusading counts from the Holy Land,

had rung with the echoes of many a gigantic revel in the days of

chivalry--an apartment one hundred and fifty feet long and forty feet

high--there had been arranged an elevated platform, with a splendid chair

of state for the "absolute" governor, and with a great profusion of

gilding and velvet tapestry, hangings, gilt emblems, complimentary

devices, lions, unicorns, and other imposing appurtenances. Prince

Maurice, and all the members of his house, the States-General in full

costume, and all the great functionaries, civil and military, were

assembled. There was an elaborate harangue by orator Menin, in which it

was proved; by copious citations from Holy Writ and from ancient

chronicle, that the Lord never forsakes His own; so that now, when the

Provinces were at their last gasp by the death of Orange and the loss of

Antwerp, the Queen of England and the Earl of Leicester had suddenly

descended, as if from Heaven; to their rescue. Then the oaths of mutual

fidelity were exchanged between the governor and the States, and, in

conclusion, Dr. Bartholomew Clerk ventured to measure himself with the

"big fellows," by pronouncing an oration which seemed to command

universal approbation. And thus the Earl was duly installed

Governor-General of the United States of the Netherlands.

But already the first mutterings of the storm were audible. A bird in the

air had whispered to the Queen that her favourite was inclined to

disobedience. "Some flying tale hath been told me here," wrote Leicester

to Walsingham, "that her Majesty should mislike my name of Excellency.

But if I had delighted, or would have received titles, I refused a title

higher than Excellency, as Mr. Davison, if you ask him, will tell you;

and that I, my own self, refused most earnestly that, and, if I might

have done it, this also." Certainly, if the Queen objected to this common

form of address, which had always been bestowed upon Leicester, as he

himself observed, ever since she had made him an earl, it might be

supposed that her wrath would mount high when she should hear of him as

absolute governor-general. It is also difficult to say what higher title

he had refused, for certainly the records show that he had refused

nothing, in the way of power and dignity, that it was possible for him to

obtain.

But very soon afterwards arrived authentic intelligence that the Queen

had been informed of the proposition made on New Year's-Day (O.S.), and

that, although she could not imagine the possibility of his accepting,

she was indignant that he had not peremptorily rejected the offer.

"As to the proposal made to you," wrote Burghley, "by the mouth of

Leoninus, her Majesty hath been informed that you had thanked them in her

name, and alledged that there was no such thing in the contract, and that

therefore you could not accept nor knew how to answer the same."

Now this information was obviously far from correct, although it had been

furnished by the Earl himself to Burghley. We have seen that Leicester

had by no means rejected, but very gratefully entertained, the

proposition as soon as made. Nevertheless the Queen was dissatisfied,

even without suspecting that she had been directly disobeyed. "Her

Majesty," continued the Lord-Treasurer; "is much offended with this

proceeding. She allows not that you should give them thanks, but findeth

it very strange that you did not plainly declare to them that they did

well know how often her Majesty had refused to have any one for her take

any such government there, and that she had always so answered

peremptorily. Therefore there might be some suspicion conceived that by

offering on their part, and refusal on hers, some further mischief might

be secretly hidden by some odd person's device to the hurt of the cause.

But in that your Lordship did not flatly say to them that yourself did

know her Majesty's mind therein, that she never meant, in this sort, to

take the absolute government, she is offended considering, as she saith,

that none knew her determination therein better than yourself. For at

your going hence, she did peremptorily charge you not to accept any such

title and office; and therefore her straight commandment now is that you

shall not accept the same, for she will never assent thereto, nor avow

you with any such title."

If Elizabeth was so wrathful, even while supposing that the offer had

been gratefully declined, what were likely to be her emotions when she

should be informed that it had been gratefully accepted. The Earl already

began to tremble at the probable consequences of his mal-adroitness.

Grave was the error he had committed in getting himself made

governor-general against orders; graver still, perhaps fatal, the blunder

of not being swift to confess his fault, and cry for pardon, before other

tongues should have time to aggravate his offence. Yet even now he shrank

from addressing the Queen in person, but hoped to conjure the rising

storm by means of the magic wand of the Lord-Treasurer. He implored his

friend's interposition to shield him in the emergency, and begged that at

least her Majesty and the lords of council would suspend their judgment

until Mr. Davison should deliver those messages and explanations with

which, fully freighted, he was about to set sail from the Brill.

"If my reasons seem to your wisdoms," said he, "other than such as might

well move a true and a faithful careful man to her Majesty to do as I

have done, I do desire, for my mistaking offence, to bear the burden of

it; to be disavowed with all displeasure and disgrace; a matter of as

great reproach and grief as ever can happen to any man." He begged that

another person might be sent as soon as possible in his place-protesting,

however, by his faith in Christ, that he had done only what he was bound

to do by his regard for her Majesty's service--and that when he set foot

in the country he had no more expected to be made Governor of the

Netherlands than to be made King of Spain. Certainly he had been paying

dear for the honour, if honour it was, and he had not intended on setting

forth for the Provinces to ruin himself, for the sake of an empty title.

His motives--and he was honest, when he so avowed them--were motives of

state at least as much as of self-advancement. "I have no cause," he

said, "to have played the fool thus far for myself; first, to have her

Majesty's displeasure, which no kingdom in the world could make me

willingly deserve; next, to undo myself in my later days; to consume all

that should have kept me all my life in one half year. But I must thank

God for all, and am most heartily grieved at her Majesty's heavy

displeasure. I neither desire to live, nor to see my country with it."

And at this bitter thought, he began to sigh like furnace, and to shed

the big tears of penitence.

"For if I have not done her Majesty good service at this time," he said,

"I shall never hope to do her any, but will withdraw me into some

out-corner of the world, where I will languish out the rest of my few-too

many-days, praying ever for her Majesty's long and prosperous life, and

with this only comfort to live an exile, that this disgrace hath happened

for no other cause but for my mere regard for her Majesty's estate."

Having painted this dismal picture of the probable termination to his

career--not in the hope of melting Burghley but of touching the heart of

Elizabeth--he proceeded to argue the point in question with much logic

and sagacity. He had satisfied himself on his arrival in the Provinces,

that, if he did not take the governor-generalship some other person

would; and that it certainly was for the interest of her Majesty that her

devoted servant, rather than an indifferent person, should be placed in

that important position. He maintained that the Queen had intimated, to

him, in private, her willingness that he should accept the office in

question provided the proposition should come from the States and not

from her; he reasoned that the double nature of his functions--being

general and counsellor for her, as well as general and counsellor for the

Provinces--made his acceptance of the authority conferred on him almost

indispensable; that for him to be merely commander over five thousand

English troops, when an abler soldier than himself, Sir John Norris, was

at their head, was hardly worthy her Majesty's service or himself, and

that in reality the Queen had lost nothing, by his appointment, but had

gained much benefit and honour by thus having the whole command of the

Provinces, of their forces by land and sea, of their towns and treasures,

with knowledge of all their secrets of state.

Then, relapsing into a vein of tender but reproachful melancholy, he

observed, that, if it had been any man but himself that had done as he

had done, he would have been thanked, not censured. "But such is now my

wretched case," he said, "as for my faithful, true, and loving heart to

her Majesty and my country, I have utterly undone myself. For favour, I

have disgrace; for reward, utter spoil and ruin. But if this taking upon

me the name of governor is so evil taken as it hath deserved dishonour,

discredit, disfavour, with all griefs that may be laid upon a man, I must

receive it as deserved of God and not of my Queen, whom I have reverenced

with all humility, and whom I have loved with all fidelity."

This was the true way, no doubt, to reach the heart of Elizabeth, and

Leicester had always plenty of such shafts in his quiver. Unfortunately

he had delayed too long, and even now he dared not take a direct aim. He

feared to write to the Queen herself, thinking that his so doing, "while

she had such conceipts of him, would only trouble her," and he therefore

continued to employ the Lord-Treasurer and Mr. Secretary as his

mediators. Thus he committed error upon error.

Meantime, as if there had not been procrastination enough, Davison was

loitering at the Brill, detained by wind and weather. Two days after the

letter, just cited, had been despatched to Walsingham, Leicester sent an

impatient message to the envoy. "I am heartily sorry, with all my heart,"

he said, "to hear of your long stay at Brill, the wind serving so fair as

it hath done these two days. I would have laid any wager that you had

been in England ere this. I pray you make haste, lest our cause take too

great a prejudice there ere you come, although I cannot fear it, because

it is so good and honest. I pray you imagine in what care I dwell till I

shall hear from you, albeit some way very resolute."

Thus it was obvious that he had no secret despair of his cause when it

should be thoroughly laid before the Queen. The wonder was that he had

added the offence of long silence to the sin of disobedience. Davison had

sailed, however, before the receipt of the Earl's letter. He had been

furnished with careful instructions upon the subject of his mission. He

was to show how eager the States had been to have Leicester for their

absolute governor--which was perfectly true--and how anxious the Earl had

been to decline the proffered honour--which was certainly false, if

contemporary record and the minutes of the States-General are to be

believed. He was to sketch the general confusion which had descended upon

the country, the quarrelling of politicians, and the discontent of

officers and soldiers, from out of all which chaos one of two results was

sure to arise: the erection of a single chieftain, or a reconciliation of

the Provinces with Spain. That it would be impossible for the Earl to

exercise the double functions with which he was charged--of general of

her Majesty's forces, and general and chief counsellor of the States--if

any other man than himself should be appointed governor; was obvious. It

was equally plain that the Provinces could only be kept at her Majesty's

disposition by choosing the course which, at their own suggestion, had

been adopted. The offer of the government by the States, and its

acceptance by the Earl, were the logical consequence of the step which

the Queen had already taken. It was thus only that England could retain

her hold upon the country, and even upon the cautionary towns. As to a

reconciliation of the Provinces with Spain--which would have been the

probable result of Leicester's rejection of the proposition made by the

Stateait was unnecessary to do more than allude to such a catastrophe. No

one but a madman could doubt that, in such an event, the subjugation of

England was almost certain.

But before the arrival of the ambassador, the Queen had been thoroughly

informed as to the whole extent of the Earl's delinquency. Dire was the

result. The wintry gales which had been lashing the North Sea, and

preventing the unfortunate Davison from setting forth on his disastrous

mission, were nothing to the tempest of royal wrath which had been

shaking the court-world to its centre. The Queen had been swearing most

fearfully ever since she read the news, which Leicester had not dared to

communicate directly, to herself. No one was allowed to speak a word in

extenuation of the favourite's offence. Burghley, who lifted up his voice

somewhat feebly to appease her wrath, was bid, with a curse, to hold his

peace. So he took to his bed-partly from prudence, partly from gout--and

thus sheltered himself for a season from the peltings of the storm.

Walsingham, more manful, stood to his post, but could not gain a hearing.

It was the culprit that should have spoken, and spoken in time. "Why, why

did you not write yourself?" was the plaintive cry of all the Earl's

friends, from highest to humblest. "But write to her now," they

exclaimed, "at any rate; and, above all, send her a present, a

love-gift." "Lay out two or three hundred crowns in some rare thing, for

a token to her Majesty," said Christopher Hatton.

Strange that his colleagues and his rivals should have been obliged to

advise Leicester upon the proper course to pursue; that they--not

himself--should have been the first to perceive that it was the enraged

woman, even more than the offended sovereign, who was to be propitiated

and soothed. In truth, all the woman had been aroused in Elizabeth's

bosom. She was displeased that her favourite should derive power and

splendour from any source but her own bounty. She was furious that his

wife, whom she hated, was about to share in his honours. For the

mischievous tongues of court-ladies had been collecting or fabricating

many unpleasant rumours. A swarm of idle but piquant stories had been

buzzing about the Queen's ears, and stinging her into a frenzy of

jealousy. The Countess--it was said--was on the point of setting forth

for the Netherlands, to join the Earl, with a train of courtiers and

ladies, coaches and side-saddles, such as were never seen before--where

the two were about to establish themselves in conjugal felicity, as well

as almost royal state. What a prospect for the jealous and imperious

sovereign! "Coaches and side-saddles! She would show the upstarts that

there was one Queen, and that her name was Elizabeth, and that there was

no court but hers." And so she continued to storm and swear, and threaten

unutterable vengeance, till all her courtiers quaked in their shoes.

Thomas Dudley, however, warmly contradicted the report, declaring, of his

own knowledge, that the Countess had no wish to go to the Provinces, nor

the Earl any intention of receiving her there. This information was at

once conveyed to the Queen, "and," said Dudley, "it did greatly pacify

her stomach." His friends did what they could to maintain the governor's

cause; but Burghley, Walsingham, Hatton, and the rest of them, were all

"at their wits end," and were nearly distraught at the delay in Davison's

arrival. Meantime the Queen's stomach was not so much pacified but that

she was determined to humiliate the Earl with the least possible delay.

Having waited sufficiently long for his explanations, she now appointed

Sir Thomas Heneage as special commissioner to the States, without waiting

any longer. Her wrath vented itself at once in the preamble to the

instructions for this agent.

"Whereas," she said, "we have been given to understand that the Earl of

Leicester hath in a very contemptuous sort--contrary to our express

commandment given unto him by ourself, accepted of an offer of a more

absolute government made by the States unto him, than was agreed on

between us and their commissioners--which kind of contemptible manner of

proceeding giveth the world just cause to think that there is not that

reverent respect carried towards us by our subjects as in duty

appertaineth; especially seeing so notorious a contempt committed by one

whom we have raised up and yielded in the eye of the world, even from the

beginning of our reign, as great portion of our favour as ever subject

enjoyed at any prince's hands; we therefore, holding nothing dearer than

our honour, and considering that no one thing could more touch our

reputation than to induce so open and public a faction of a prince, and

work a greater reproach than contempt at a subject's hand, without

reparation of our honour, have found it necessary to send you unto him,

as well to charge him with the said contempt, as also to execute such

other things as we think meet to be done, for the justifying of ourselves

to the world, as the repairing of the indignity cast upon us by his

undutiful manner of proceeding towards us. . . . And for that we find

ourselves also not well dealt withal by the States, in that they have

pressed the said Earl, without our assent or privity, to accept of a more

absolute government than was agreed on between us and their

commissioners, we have also thought meet that you shall charge them

therewith, according to the directions hereafter ensuing. And to the end

there may be no delay used in the execution of that which we think meet

to be presently done, you shall charge the said States, even as they

tender the continuance of our good-will towards them, to proceed to the

speedy execution of our request."

After this trumpet-like preamble it may be supposed that the blast which

followed would be piercing and shrill. The instructions, in truth,

consisted in wild, scornful flourishes upon one theme. The word contempt

had occurred five times in the brief preamble. It was repeated in almost

every line of the instructions.

"You shall let the Earl" (our cousin no longer) "understand," said the

Queen, "how highly and justly we are offended with his acceptation of the

government, which we do repute to be a very great and strange contempt,

least looked for at our hands, being, as he is, a creature of our own."

His omission to acquaint her by letter with the causes moving him "so

contemptuously to break" her commandment, his delay in sending Davison

"to answer the said contempt," had much "aggravated the fault," although

the Queen protested herself unable to imagine any "excuse for so manifest

a contempt." The States were to be informed that she "held it strange"

that "this creature of her own" should have been pressed by them to

"commit so notorious a contempt" against her, both on account of this

very exhibition of contempt on Leicester's part, and because they thereby

"shewed themselves to have a very slender and weak conceit of her

judgment, by pressing a minister of hers to accept that which she had

refused, as: though her long experience in government had not taught her

to discover what was fit to do in matters of state." As the result of

such a proceeding would be to disgrace her in the eyes of mankind, by

inducing an opinion that her published solemn declaration on this great

subject had been intended to abuse the world, he was directed--in order

to remove the hard conceit justly to be taken by the world, "in

consideration of the said contempt,"--to make a public and open

resignation of the government in the place where he had accepted the

same.

Thus it had been made obvious to the unlucky "creature of her own," that

the Queen did not easily digest "contempt." Nevertheless these

instructions to Heneage were gentle, compared with the fierce billet

which she addressed directly to the Earl: It was brief, too, as the posy

of a ring; and thus it ran: "To my Lord of Leicester, from the Queen, by

Sir Thomas Heneage. How contemptuously we conceive ourself to have been

used by you, you shall by this bearer understand, whom we have expressly

sent unto you to charge you withal. We could never have imagined, had we

not seen it fall out in experience, that a man raised up by ourself, and

extraordinarily favoured by us above any other subject of this land,

would have, in so contemptible a sort, broken our commandment, in a cause

that so greatly toucheth us in honour; whereof, although you have showed

yourself to make but little account, in most undutiful a sort, you may

not therefore think that we have so little care of the reparation thereof

as we mind to pass so great a wrong in silence unredressed. And therefore

our express pleasure and commandment is, that--all delays and excuses

laid apart--you do presently, upon the duty of your allegiance, obey and

fulfil whatsoever the bearer hereof shall direct you to do in our name.

Whereof fail not, as you will answer the contrary at your uttermost

peril."

Here was no billing and cooing, certainly, but a terse, biting

phraseology, about which there could be no misconception.

By the same messenger the Queen also sent a formal letter to the

States-General; the epistle--'mutatis mutandis'--being also addressed to

the state-council.

In this document her Majesty expressed her great surprise that Leicester

should have accepted their offer of the absolute government, "both for

police and war," when she had so expressly rejected it herself. "To tell

the truth," she observed, "you seem to have treated us with very little

respect, and put a too manifest insult upon us, in presenting anew to one

of, our subjects the same proposition which we had already declined,

without at least waiting for our answer whether we should like it or no;

as if we had not sense enough to be able to decide upon what we ought to

accept or refuse." She proceeded to express her dissatisfaction with the

course pursued, because so repugnant to her published declaration, in

which she had stated to the world her intention of aiding the Provinces,

without meddling in the least with the sovereignty of the country. "The

contrary would now be believed," she said, "at least by those who take

the liberty of censuring, according to their pleasure, the actions of

princes." Thus her honour was at stake. She signified her will,

therefore, that, in order to convince the world of her sincerity, the

authority conferred should be revoked, and that "the Earl," whom she had

decided to recall very soon, should, during his brief residence there,

only exercise the power agreed upon by the original contract. She warmly

reiterated her intention, however, of observing inviolably the promise of

assistance which she had given to the States. "And if," she said, "any

malicious or turbulent spirits should endeavour, perchance, to persuade

the people that this our refusal proceeds from lack of affection or

honest disposition to assist you--instead of being founded only on

respect for our honour, which is dearer to us than life--we beg you, by

every possible means, to shut their mouths, and prevent their pernicious

designs."

Thus, heavily laden with the royal wrath, Heneage was on the point of

leaving London for the Netherlands, on the very day upon which Davison

arrived, charged with deprecatory missives from that country. After his

long detention he had a short passage, crossing from the Brill to Margate

in a single night. Coming immediately to London, he sent to Walsingham to

inquire which way the wind was blowing at court, but received a somewhat

discouraging reply. "Your long detention by his Lordship," said the

Secretary, "has wounded the whole cause;" adding, that he thought her

Majesty would not speak with him. On the other hand, it seemed

indispensable for him to go to the court, because if the Queen should

hear of his arrival before he had presented himself, she was likely to be

more angry than ever.

So, the same afternoon, Davison waited upon Walsingham, and found him in

a state of despondency. "She takes his Lordship's acceptance of the

government most haynously," said Sir Francis, "and has resolved to send

Sir Thomas Heneage at once, with orders for him to resign the office. She

has been threatening you and Sir Philip Sidney, whom she considers the

chief actors and persuaders in the matter, according to information

received from some persons about my Lord of Leicester."

Davison protested himself amazed at the Secretary's discourse, and at

once took great pains to show the reasons by which all parties had been

influenced in the matter of the government. He declared roundly that if

the Queen should carry out her present intentions, the Earl would be most

unworthily disgraced, the cause utterly overthrown, the Queen's honour

perpetually stained, and that her kingdom would incur great disaster.

Directly after this brief conversation, Walsingham went up stairs to the

Queen, while Davison proceeded to the apartments of Sir Christopher

Hatton. Thence he was soon summoned to the royal presence, and found that

he had not been misinformed as to the temper of her Majesty. The Queen

was indeed in a passion, and began swearing at Davison so soon as he got

into the chamber; abusing Leicester for having accepted the offer of the

States, against her many times repeated commandment, and the ambassador

for not having opposed his course. The thing had been done, she said, in

contempt of her, as if her consent had been of no consequence, or as if

the matter in no way concerned her.

So soon as she paused to take breath, the envoy modestly, but firmly,

appealed to her reason, that she would at any rate lend him a patient and

favourable ear, in which case he doubted not that she would form a more

favourable opinion of the case than she had hitherto done: He then

entered into a long discourse upon the state of the Netherlands before

the arrival of Leicester, the inclination in many quarters for a peace,

the "despair that any sound and good fruit would grow of her Majesty's

cold beginning," the general unpopularity of the States' government, the

"corruption, partiality, and confusion," which were visible everywhere,

the perilous condition of the whole cause, and the absolute necessity of

some immediate reform.

"It was necessary," said Davison, "that some one person of wisdom and

authority should take the helm. Among the Netherlanders none was

qualified for such a charge. Lord Maurice is a child, poor, and of but

little respect among them. Elector Truchsess, Count Hohenlo, Meurs, and

the rest, strangers and incapable of the burden. These considerations

influenced the States to the step which had been taken; without which all

the rest of her benevolence was to little purpose." Although the contract

between the commissioners and the Queen had not literally provided for

such an arrangement, yet it had always been contemplated by the States,

who had left themselves without a head until the arrival of the Earl.

"Under one pretext or another," continued the envoy, "my Lord of

Leicester had long delayed to satisfy them,"--(and in so stating he went

somewhat further in defence of his absent friend than the facts would

warrant), "for he neither flatly refused it, nor was willing to accept,

until your Majesty's pleasure should be known." Certainly the records

show no reservation of his acceptance until the Queen had been consulted;

but the defence by Davison of the offending Earl was so much the more

courageous.