fearless mariners were to swarm to the protection of her coasts, quite as much in that year of anxious expectation as upon the great Queen herself.  Unquestionable as were her mental capacity and her more than woman’s courage, when fairly, brought face, to face with the danger, it was fortunately not on one man or woman’s brain and arm that England’s salvation depended in that crisis of her fate.

As to the Provinces, no one ventured to speak very boldly in their defence.  “When I lay before her the peril,” said Walsingham, “she scorneth at it.  The hope of a peace with Spain has put her into a most dangerous security.”  Nor would any man now assume responsibility.  The fate of Davison—­of the man who had already in so detestable a manner been made the scape-goat for Leicester’s sins in the Netherlands, and who had now been so barbarously sacrificed by the Queen for faithfully obeying her orders in regard to the death-warrant, had sickened all courtiers and counsellors for the time.  “The late severe, dealing used by her Highness towards Mr. Secretary Davison,” said Walsingham to Wilkes, “maketh us very circumspect and careful not to proceed in anything but wherein we receive direction from herself, and therefore you must not find it strange if we now be more sparing than heretofore hath been accustomed.”

Such being the portentous state of the political atmosphere, and such the stormy condition of the royal mind, it may be supposed that the interviews of the Netherland envoys with her Majesty during this period were not likely to be genial.  Exactly at the most gloomy moment—­thirteen days before the execution of Mary—­they came first into Elizabeth’s presence at Greenwich.

The envoys were five in number, all of them experienced and able statesmen—­Zuylen van Nyvelt, Joos de Menyn, Nicasius de Silla, Jacob Valck, and Vitus van Kammings.  The Queen was in the privy council-chamber, attended by the admiral of England, Lord Thomas Howard, Lord Hunsdon, great-chamberlain, Sir Christopher Hatton, vice-chamberlain, Secretary Davison, and many other persons of distinction.

The letters of credence were duly presented, but it was obvious from the beginning of the interview that the Queen was ill-disposed toward the deputies, and had not only been misinformed as to matters of fact, but as to the state of feeling of the Netherlanders and of the States-General towards herself.

Menyu, however, who was an orator by profession—­being pensionary of Dort—­made, in the name of his colleagues, a brief but pregnant speech, to which the Queen listened attentively, although, with frequent indications of anger and impatience.  He commenced by observing that the United Provinces still entertained the hope that her Majesty would conclude, upon further thoughts, to accept the sovereignty over them, with reasonable conditions; but the most important passages of his address were those relating to the cost of the war.  “Besides our stipulated contributions,”