Flushing, Rammekens, and other cautionary places, where English garrisons were maintained, and which King James was bound according to the contracts of Queen Elizabeth never to restore except to those who had pledged them to the English crown—­the king would uphold those contracts.  He would, however, endeavour to make an arrangement with the States by which they should agree within a certain period to make their peace with Spain.  Should they refuse or fail, he would then consider himself liberated from these previous engagements and free to act concerning those cities in an honourable and reasonable manner, as became a friendly king?  Meantime the garrisons should not in any way assist the Hollanders in their hostilities with Spain.  English subjects were forbidden to carry into Spain or the obedient Netherlands any property or merchandize belonging to the Hollanders, or to make use of Dutch vessels in their trade with Spain.  Both parties agreed to do their best to bring about a pacification in the Netherlands.

No irony certainly could be more exquisite that this last-named article.  This was the end of that magnificent conception, the great Anglo-French League against the house of Austria.  King James would combine his efforts with King Philip to pacify the Netherlands.  The wolf and the watchdog would unite to bring back the erring flock to the fold.  Meantime James would keep the cautionary towns in his clutches, not permitting their garrisons or any of his subjects to assist the rebels on sea or shore.  As for the Jesuits, their triumphant re-appearance in France, and the demolition of the pyramid raised to their dishonour on the site of the house where John Castel, who had stabbed Henry IV., had resided, were events about to mark the opening year.  Plainly enough Secretary Cecil had out-generalled the French party.

The secret treaty of Hampton Court, the result of the efforts of Rosny and Olden-Barneveld in July of the previous year, was not likely to be of much service in protecting the republic.  James meant to let the dead treaties bury their dead, to live in peace with all the world, and to marry his sons and daughters to Spanish Infantes and Infantas.  Meantime, although he had sheathed the sword which Elizabeth had drawn against the common enemy, and had no idea of fighting or spending money for the States, he was willing that their diplomatic agent should be called ambassador.  The faithful and much experienced Noel de Caron coveted that distinction, and moved thereby the spleen of Henry’s envoy at the Hague, Buzanval, who probably would not have objected to the title himself.  “’Twill be a folly,” he said, “for him to present himself on the pavement as a prancing steed, and then be treated like a poor hack.  He has been too long employed to put himself in such a plight.  But there are lunatics everywhere and of all ages.”