It was, very natural that the chivalrous Sidney, who had come to the Netherlands to win glory in the field, should be desirous of posts that would bring danger and distinction with them.  He was not there merely that he might govern Flushing, important as it was, particularly as the garrison was, according to his statement, about as able to maintain the town, “as the Tower was to answer for London.”  He disapproved of his wife’s inclination to join him in Holland, for he was likely—­so he wrote to her father, Walsingham—­“to run such a course as would not be fit for any of the feminine gender.”  He had been, however; grieved to the heart, by the spectacle which was perpetually exhibited of the Queen’s parsimony, and of the consequent suffering of the soldiers.  Twelve or fifteen thousand Englishmen were serving in the Netherlands—­more than two thirds of them in her Majesty’s immediate employment.  No troops had ever fought better, or more honourably maintained the ancient glory of England.  But rarely had more ragged and wretched warriors been seen than they, after a few months’ campaigning.

The Irish Kernes—­some fifteen hundred of whom were among the auxiliaries—­were better off, for they habitually dispensed with clothing; an apron from waist to knee being the only protection of these wild Kelts, who fought with the valour, and nearly, in the costume of Homeric heroes.  Fearing nothing, needing nothing, sparing nothing, they stalked about the fens of Zeeland upon their long stilts, or leaped across running rivers, scaling ramparts, robbing the highways, burning, butchering, and maltreating the villages and their inhabitants, with as little regard for the laws of Christian warfare as for those of civilized costume.

Other soldiers, more sophisticated as to apparel, were less at their ease.  The generous Sidney spent all his means, and loaded himself with debt, in order to relieve the necessities of the poor soldiers.  He protested that if the Queen would not pay her troops, she would lose her troops, but that no living man should say the fault was in him.  “What relief I can do them I will,” he wrote to his father-in-law; “I will spare no danger, if occasion serves.  I am sure that no creature shall lay injustice to my charge.”

Very soon it was discovered that the starving troops had to contend not only with the Queen’s niggardliness but with the dishonesty of her agents.  Treasurer Norris was constantly accused by Leicester and Sidney of gross peculation.  Five per cent., according to Sir Philip, was lost to the Zeeland soldiers in every payment, “and God knows,” he said, “they want no such hindrance, being scarce able to keep life with their entire pay.  Truly it is but poor increase to her Majesty, considering what loss it is to the miserable soldier.”  Discipline and endurance were sure to be sacrificed, in the end, to such short-sighted economy.  “When soldiers,” said Sidney, “grow to despair, and give up towns, then it is too late to buy with hundred thousands what might have been saved with a trifle.”