“You are States, to be sure, but private individuals in regard to princes.  Certainly, I would never choose to do anything without your knowledge, and I would never allow the authority which you have among yourselves, nor your privileges, nor your statutes, to be infringed.  Nor will I allow you to be perturbed in your consciences.  What then would you more of me?  You have issued a proclamation in your country that no one is to talk of peace.  Very well, very good.  But permit princes likewise to do as they shall think best for the security of their state, provided it does you no injury.  Among us princes we are not wont to make such long orations as you do, but you ought to be content with the few words that we bestow upon you, and make yourself quiet thereby.

“If I ever do anything for you again, I choose to be treated more honourably.  I shall therefore appoint some personages of my council to communicate with you.  And in the first place I choose to hear and see for myself what has taken place already, and have satisfaction about that, before I make any reply to what you have said to me as to greater assistance.  And so I will leave you to-day, without troubling you further.”

With this her Majesty swept from the apartment, leaving the deputies somewhat astounded at the fierce but adroit manner in which the tables had for a moment been turned upon them.

It was certainly a most unexpected blow, this charge of the States having left the English soldiers—­whose numbers the Queen had so suddenly multiplied by three—­unpaid and unfed.  Those Englishmen who, as individuals, had entered the States’ service, had been—­like all the other troops regularly paid.  This distinctly appeared from the statements of her own counsellors and generals.  On the other hand, the Queen’s contingent, now dwindled to about half their original number, had been notoriously unpaid for nearly six months.

This has already been made sufficiently clear from the private letters of most responsible persons.  That these soldiers were starving, deserting; and pillaging, was, alas! too true; but the envoys of the States hardly expected to be censured by her Majesty, because she had neglected to pay her own troops.  It was one of the points concerning which they had been especially enjoined to complain, that the English cavalry, converted into highwaymen by want of pay, had been plundering the peasantry, and we have seen that Thomas Wilkes had “pawned his carcase” to provide for their temporary relief.

With regard to the insinuation that prominent personages in the country had been tampered with by the enemy, the envoys were equally astonished by such an attack.  The great Deventer treason had not yet been heard of in England for it had occurred only a week before this first interview—­but something of the kind was already feared; for the slippery dealings of York and Stanley with Tassis and Parma, had long been causing