one hat;” but he would have done well to ask himself whether his own contribution to this partnership of brains would very much enrich the silent statesman.  Orange himself regarded him with respectful contempt, and considered his interference with Netherland matters but as an additional element of mischief.  The Duke’s right hand man, however, Peter Peutterich, the “equestrian doctor”—­as Sir Philip Sydney called him—­equally skilful with the sword as with the pen, had succeeded, while on a mission to England, in acquiring the Queen’s favor for his master.  To Casimir, therefore, had been entrusted the command of the levies, and the principal expenditure of the subsidies which she had placed at the disposition of the states.  Upon Casimir she relied, as a counterweight to the Duke of Alencon, who, as she knew, had already entered the provinces at the secret solicitation of a large faction among the nobles.  She had as much confidence as ever in Orange, but she imagined herself to be strengthening his cause by providing him with such a lieutenant.  Casimir’s immediate friends had but little respect for his abilities.  His father-in-law, Augustus of Saxony, did not approve his expedition.  The Landgrave William, to whom he wrote for counsel, answered, in his quaint manner, that it was always difficult for one friend to advise another in three matters—­to wit, in taking a wife, going to sea, and going to war; but that, nevertheless, despite the ancient proverb, he would assume the responsibility of warning Casimir not to plunge into what he was pleased to call the “‘confusum chaos’ of Netherland politics.”  The Duke felt no inclination, however, to take the advice which he had solicited.  He had been stung by the sarcasm which Alva had once uttered, that the German potentates carried plenty of lions, dragons, eagles, and griffins on their shields; but that these ferocious animals were not given to biting or scratching.  He was therefore disposed, once for all, to show that the teeth and claws of German princes could still be dangerous.  Unfortunately, he was destined to add a fresh element of confusion to the chaos, and to furnish rather a proof than a refutation of the correctness of Alva’s gibe.

This was the hero who was now thrust, head and shoulders as it were, into the entangled affairs of the Netherlanders, and it was Elizabeth of England, more than ever alarmed at the schemes of Alencon, who had pushed forward this Protestant champion, notwithstanding the disinclination of Orange.

The Queen was right in her uneasiness respecting the French prince.  The Catholic nobles, relying upon the strong feeling still rife throughout the Walloon country against the Reformed religion, and inflamed more than ever by their repugnance to Orange, whose genius threw them so completely into the shade, had already drawn closer to the Duke.  The same influences were at work to introduce Alencon, which had formerly been employed to bring Matthias from