A force of five hundred men, together with provisions enough to last a year, was thrown into the city, and the course of the Meuse was, apparently, secured to the republic.  In this important action about one hundred and fifty Dutch and English were killed, and probably four hundred Spaniards, including several distinguished officers.

The Earl of Leicester was incredibly elated so soon as the success of this enterprise was known.  “Oh that her Majesty knew,” he cried, “how easy a match now she hath with the King of Spain, and what millions of aficted people she hath relieved in these, countries.  This summer, this summer, I say, would make an end to her immortal glory.”  He was no friend to his countryman, the gallant Sir John Norris—­whom, however, he could not help applauding on this occasion,—­but he was in raptures with Hohenlo.  Next to God, he assured the Queen’s government that the victory was owing to the Count.  “He is both a valiant man and a wise man, and the painfullest that ever I knew,” he said; adding—­as a secret—­that “five hundred Englishmen of the best Flemish training had flatly and shamefully run away,” when the fight had been renewed by Hohenlo and Norris.  He recommended that her Majesty should, send her picture to the Count, worth two hundred pounds, which he would value at more than one thousand pounds in money, and he added that “for her sake the Count had greatly left his drinking.”

As for the Prince of Parma, Leicester looked upon him as conclusively beaten.  He spoke of him as “marvellously appalled” by this overthrow of his forces; but he assured the government that if the Prince’s “choler should press him to seek revenge,” he should soon be driven out of the country.  The Earl would follow him “at an inch,” and effectually frustrate all his undertakings.  “If the Spaniard have such a May as he has had an April,” said Lord North, “it will put water in his wine.”

Meantime, as St. George’s Day was approaching, and as the Earl was fond of banquets and ceremonies, it was thought desirable to hold a great triumphal feast at Utrecht.  His journey to that city from the Hague was a triumphal procession.  In all the towns through which he passed he was entertained with military display, pompous harangues, interludes, dumb shows, and allegories.  At Amsterdam—­a city which he compared to Venice for situation and splendour, and where one thousand ships were constantly lying—­he was received with “sundry great whales and other fishes of hugeness,” that gambolled about his vessel, and convoyed him to the shore.  These monsters of the deep presented him to the burgomaster and magistrates who were awaiting him on the quay.  The burgomaster made him a Latin oration, to which Dr. Bartholomew Clerk responded, and then the Earl was ushered to the grand square, upon which, in his honour, a magnificent living picture was exhibited, in which he figured as Moses, at the head of the Israelites, smiting the Philistines hip