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