in second nuptials to the fair Cunigunda, daughter of the deceased Elector Palatine—­a vision which was repeated many times.  On the morrow he learned, to his amazement, that he was a widower, and entertained no doubt that he had been specially directed towards the princess seen in his slumbers, whom he had never seen in life.  His friends were in favor of his marrying the Electress Dowager, rather than her daughter, whose years numbered less than half his own.  The honest Count, however, “after ripe consideration,” decidedly preferred the maid to the widow.  “I confess,” he said, with much gravity, “that the marriage with the old Electress, in respect of her God-fearing disposition, her piety, her virtue, and the like, would be much more advisable.  Moreover, as she hath borne her cross, and knows how to deal with gentlemen, so much the better would it be for me.  Nevertheless, inasmuch as she has already had two husbands, is of a tolerable age, and is taller of stature than myself, my inclination is less towards her than towards her daughter.”

For these various considerations, Count John, notwithstanding the remonstrances of his brother, definitely laid down his government of Gelderland, and quitted the Netherlands about midsummer.  Enough had not been done, in the opinion of the Prince, so long as aught remained to do, and he could not bear that his brother should desert the country in the hour of its darkness, or doubt the Almighty when his hand was veiled in clouds.  “One must do one’s best,” said he, “and believe that when such misfortunes happen, God desires to prove us.  If He sees that we do not lose our courage, He will assuredly help us.  Had we thought otherwise, we should never have pierced the dykes on a memorable occasion, for it was an uncertain thing and a great sorrow for the poor people; yet did God bless the undertaking.  He will bless us still, for his arm hath not been shortened.”

On the 22nd of July, 1580, the Archduke Matthias, being fully aware of the general tendency of affairs, summoned a meeting of the generality in Antwerp.  He did not make his appearance before the assembly, but requested that a deputation might wait upon him at his lodgings, and to this committee he unfolded his griefs.  He expressed his hope that the states were not—­in violation of the laws of God and man—­about to throw themselves into the arms of a foreign prince.  He reminded them of their duty to the holy Catholic religion to the illustrious house of Austria, while he also pathetically called their attention to the necessities of his own household, and hoped that they would, at least, provide for the arrears due to his domestics.

The states-general replied with courtesy as to the personal claims of the Archduke.  For the rest, they took higher grounds, and the coming declaration of independence already pierced through the studied decorum of their language.  They defended their negotiation with Anjou on the ground of necessity, averring that the King of Spain had proved inexorable to all intercession, while, through the intrigues of their bitterest enemies, they had been entirely forsaken by the Empire.