The record of our race is essentially unwritten.  What we call history is but made up of a few scattered fragments, while it is scarcely given to human intelligence to comprehend the great whole.  Yet it is strange to reflect upon the leisurely manner in which great affairs were conducted in the period with which we are now occupied, as compared with the fever and whirl of our own times, in which the stupendous powers of steam and electricity are ever-ready to serve the most sublime or the most vulgar purposes of mankind.  Whether there were ever a critical moment in which a rapid change might have been effected in royal or national councils, had telegraphic wires and express trains been at the command of Henry, or Burghley, or Barneveld, or the Cardinal Albert, need not and cannot be decided.  It is almost diverting, however, to see how closely the intrigues of cabinets, the movements of armies, the plans of patriots, were once dependent on those natural elements over which man has now gained almost despotic control.

Here was the republic intensely eager to prevent, with all speed, the consummation of a treaty between its ally and its enemy—­a step which it was feared might be fatal to its national existence, and concerning which there seemed a momentary hesitation.  Yet Barneveld and Justinus of Nassau, although ready on the last day of January, were not able to sail from the Brill to Dieppe until the 18th March, on account of a persistent south-west wind.

After forty-six days of waiting, the envoys, accompanied by Buzanval, Henry’s resident at the Hague, were at last, on the 18th March, enabled to set sail with a favourable breeze.  As it was necessary for travellers in that day to provide themselves with every possible material for their journey—­carriages, horses, hosts of servants, and beds, fortunate enough if they found roads and occasionally food—­Barneveld and Nassau were furnished with three ships of war, while another legation on its way to England had embarked in two other vessels of the same class.  A fleet of forty or fifty merchantmen sailed under their convoy.  Departing from the Brill in this imposing manner, they sailed by Calais, varying the monotony of the voyage by a trifling sea-fight with some cruisers from that Spanish port, neither side receiving any damage.

Landing at Dieppe on the morning of the 20th, the envoys were received with much ceremony at the city gates by the governor of the place, who conducted them in a stately manner to a house called the king’s mansion, which he politely placed at their disposal.  “As we learned, however,” says Barneveld, with grave simplicity; “that there was no furniture whatever in that royal abode, we thanked his Excellency, and declared that we would rather go to a tavern.”

After three days of repose and preparation in Dieppe, they started at dawn on their journey to Rouen, where they arrived at sundown.