of France and England, like most of the politicians of Europe, had but slender belief in the possibility of a popular government, and doubted therefore the continued existence of the newly-organized republic.  Therefore they really deprecated the idea of a peace which should include the States, notwithstanding that from time to time the queen or some of her counsellors had so vehemently reproached the Netherlanders with their unwillingness to negotiate.  “At the first recognition that these people should make of the mere shadow of a prince,” said Buzanval, the keenly observing and experienced French envoy at the Hague, “they lose the form they have.  All the blood of the body would flow to the head, and the game would be who should best play the valet. . . .  The house of Nassau would lose its credit within a month in case of peace.”  As such statesmen could not imagine a republic, they ever dreaded the restoration in the United Provinces of the subverted authority of Spain.

France and England were jealous of each other, and both were jealous of Spain.  Therefore even if the republican element, the strength and endurance of which was so little suspected, had been as trifling a factor in the problem, as was supposed, still it would have been difficult for any one of these powers to absorb the United Netherlands.  As for France, she hardly coveted their possession.  “We ought not to flatter ourselves,” said Buzanval, “that these maritime peoples will cast themselves one day into our nets, nor do I know that it would be advisable to pull in the net if they should throw themselves in.”

Henry was full of political schemes and dreams at this moment—­as much as his passion for Mademoiselle d’Entraigues, who had so soon supplanted the image of the dead Gabrielle in his heart, would permit.  He was very well disposed to obtain possession of the Spanish Netherlands, whenever he should see his way to such an acquisition, and was even indulging in visions of the imperial crown.

He was therefore already, and for the time at least, the most intense of papists.  He was determined to sacrifice the Huguenot chiefs, and introduce the Council of Trent, in order, as he told Du Plessis, that all might be Christians.  If he still retained any remembrance of the ancient friendship between himself and the heretic republic, it was not likely to exhibit itself, notwithstanding his promises and his pecuniary liabilities to her, in anything more solid than words.  “I repeat it,” said the Dutch envoy at Paris; “this court cares nothing for us, for all its cabals tend to close union with Rome, whence we can expect nothing but foul weather.  The king alone has any memory of our past services.”  But imperturbable and self-confident as ever, Henry troubled himself little with fears in regard to the papal supremacy, even when his Parliament professed great anxiety in regard to the consequences of the Council of Trent, if not under him yet under his successors.