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 diffcult 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