The feeling in the Provinces was still sincerely loyal towards England.  “These men,” said Leicester, “yet honour and most dearly love her Majesty, and hardly, I know, will be brought to believe ill of her any way.”  Nevertheless these rumours, to the discredit of her good faith, were doing infinite harm; while the Earl, although keeping his eyes and ears wide open, was anxious not to compromise himself any further with his sovereign, by appearing himself to suspect her of duplicity.  “Good, my Lord,” he besought Burghley, “do not let her Majesty know of this concerning Champagny as coming from me, for she will think it is done for my own cause, which, by the Lord God, it is not, but even on the necessity of the case for her own safety, and the realm, and us all.  Good my Lord, as you will do any good in the matter, let not her Majesty understand any piece of it to come from me.”

The States-General, on the 25th March, N.S., addressed a respectful letter to the Queen, in reply to her vehement chidings.  They expressed their deep regret that her Majesty should be so offended with the election of the Earl of Leicester as absolute governor.

They confessed that she had just cause of displeasure, but hoped that when she should be informed of the whole matter she would rest better satisfied with their proceedings.  They stated that the authority was the same which had been previously bestowed upon governors-general; observing that by the word “absolute,” which had been used in designation of that authority, nothing more had been intended than to give to the Earl full power to execute his commission, while the sovereignty of the country was reserved to the people.  This commission, they said, could not be without danger revoked.  And therefore they most humbly besought her Majesty to approve what had been done, and to remember its conformity with her own advice to them, that a multitude of heads, whereby confusion in the government is bred, should be avoided.

Leicester, upon the same occasion, addressed a letter to Burghley and Walsingham, expressing himself as became a crushed and contrite man, never more to raise his drooping head again, but warmly and manfully urging upon the attention of the English government—­for the honour and interest of the Queen herself—­“the miserable state of the poor soldiers.”  The necessity of immediate remittances in order to keep them from starving, was most imperious.  For himself, he was smothering his wretchedness until he should learn her Majesty’s final decision, as to what was to become of him.  “Meantime,” said he, “I carry my grief inward, and will proceed till her Majesty’s full pleasure come with as little discouragement to the cause as I can.  I pray God her Majesty may do that may be best for herself.  For my own part my, heart is broken, but not by the enemy.”

There is no doubt that the public disgrace thus inflicted upon the broken-hearted governor, and the severe censure administered to the States by the Queen were both ill-timed and undeserved.  Whatever his disingenuousness towards Davison, whatever his disobedience to Elizabeth, however ambitious his own secret motives may, have been, there is no doubt at all that thus far he had borne himself well in his great office.