the world for despotic Spain, so the Advocate thought,
to reappear suddenly in force again at a moment’s
notice after the States’ troops had been withdrawn
and partially disbanded, and it would be difficult
for the many-headed and many-tongued republic to act
with similar promptness. To withdraw without
a guarantee from Spain to the Treaty of Xanten, which
had once been signed, sealed, and all but ratified,
would be to give up fifty points in the game.
Nothing but disaster could ensue. The Advocate
as leader in all these negotiations and correspondence
was ever actuated by the favourite quotation of William
the Silent from Demosthenes, that the safest citadel
against an invader and a tyrant is distrust.
And he always distrusted in these dealings, for he
was sure the Spanish cabinet was trying to make fools
of the States, and there were many ready to assist
it in the task. Now that one of the pretenders,
temporary master of half the duchies, the Prince of
Neuburg, had espoused both Catholicism and the sister
of the Archbishop of Cologne and the Duke of Bavaria,
it would be more safe than ever for Spain to make
a temporary withdrawal. Maximilian of Bavaria
was beyond all question the ablest and most determined
leader of the Catholic party in Germany, and the most
straightforward and sincere. No man before or
since his epoch had, like him, been destined to refuse,
and more than once refuse, the Imperial crown.
Through his apostasy the Prince of Neuburg was in
danger of losing his hereditary estates, his brothers
endeavouring to dispossess him on the ground of the
late duke’s will, disinheriting any one of his
heirs who should become a convert to Catholicism.
He had accordingly implored aid from the King of
Spain. Archduke Albert had urged Philip to render
such assistance as a matter of justice, and the Emperor
had naturally declared that the whole right as eldest
son belonged, notwithstanding the will, to the Prince.
With the young Neuburg accordingly under the able
guidance of Maximilian, it was not likely that the
grasp of the Spanish party upon these all-important
territories would be really loosened. The Emperor
still claimed the right to decide among the candidates
and to hold the provinces under sequestration till
the decision should be made—that was to
say, until the Greek Kalends. The original attempt
to do this through Archduke Leopold had been thwarted,
as we have seen, by the prompt movements of Maurice
sustained by the policy of Barneveld. The Advocate
was resolved that the Emperor’s name should not
be mentioned either in the preamble or body of the
treaty. And his course throughout the simulations,
which were never negotiations, was perpetually baffled
as much by the easiness and languor of his allies
as the ingenuity of the enemy.