Gilpin, a highly intelligent agent of the English government in Zeeland, kept Sir Francis Walsingham thoroughly informed of the sentiments entertained by the people of that province towards England.  Mixing habitually with the most influential politicians, he was able to render material assistance to the English council in the diplomatic game which had been commenced, and on which a no less important stake than the crown of England was to be hazarded.

“In conference,” he said, “with particular persons that bear any rule or credit, I find a great inclination towards her Majesty, joined notwithstanding with a kind of coldness.  They allege that matters of such importance are to be maturely and thoroughly pondered, while some of them harp upon the old string, as if her Majesty, for the security of her own estate, was to have the more care of theirs here.”

He was also very careful to insinuate the expediency of diplomatic coquetry into the mind of a Princess who needed no such prompting.  “The less by outward appearance,” said he, “this people shall perceive that her Majesty can be contented to take the protection of them upon her, the forwarder they will be to seek and send unto her, and the larger conditions in treaty may be required.  For if they see it to come from herself, then do they persuade themselves that it is for the greater security of our own country and her Highness to fear the King of Spain’s greatness.  But if they become seekers unto her Majesty, and if they may, by outward show, deem that she accounteth not of the said King’s might, but able and sufficient to defend her own realms, then verily I think they may be brought to whatsoever points her Majesty may desire.”

Certainly it was an age of intrigue, in which nothing seemed worth getting at all unless it could be got by underhand means, and in which it was thought impossible for two parties to a bargain to meet together except as antagonists, who believed that one could not derive a profit from the transaction unless the other had been overreached.  This was neither good morality nor sound diplomacy, and the result of such trifling was much loss of time and great disaster.  In accordance with this crafty system, the agent expressed the opinion that it would “be good and requisite for the English government somewhat to temporise,” and to dally for a season longer, in order to see what measures the States would take to defend themselves, and how much ability and resources they would show for belligerent purposes.  If the Queen were too eager, the Provinces would become jealous, “yielding, as it were, their power, and yet keeping the rudder in their own hands.”

At the same time Gilpin was favourably impressed with the character both of the country and the nation, soon to be placed in such important relations with England.  “This people,” he said, “is such as by fair means they will be won to yield and grant any reasonable motion or demand.  What these islands of Zeeland are her Majesty and all my lords of her council do know.  Yet for their government thus much I must write; that during these troubles it never was better than now.  They draw, in a manner, one line, long and carefully in their resolution; but the same once taken and promises made, they would perform them to the uttermost.”