great armies of pewter soldiers; these were the occupations
of his leisure-hours. Yet he was hardly suspected
of bearing within him the germs of the great military
commander. “Small desire hath Count Maurice
to follow the wars,” said one who fancied himself
an acute observer at exactly this epoch. “And
whereas it might be supposed that in respect to his
birth and place, he would affect the chief military
command in these countries, it is found by experience
had of his humour, that there is no chance of his
entering into competition with the others.”
A modest young man, who could bide his time—but
who, meanwhile, under the guidance of his elders, was
doing his best, both in field and cabinet, to learn
the great lessons of the age—he had already
enjoyed much solid practical instruction, under such
a desperate fighter as Hohenlo, and under so profound
a statesman as Barneveld. For at this epoch Olden-Barneveld
was the preceptor, almost the political patron of
Maurice, and Maurice, the official head of the Holland
party, was the declared opponent of the democratic-Calvinist
organization. It is not necessary, at this early
moment, to foreshadow the changes which time was to
bring. Meantime it would be seen, perhaps ere
long, whether or no, it would be his humour to follow
the wars. As to his prudent and dignified deportment
there was little doubt. “Count Maurice
behaveth himself very discreetly all this while,”
wrote one, who did not love him, to Leicester, who
loved him less: “He cometh every day to
the council, keeping no company with Count Hollock,
nor with any of them all, and never drinks himself
full with any of them, as they do every day among
themselves.”
Certainly the most profitable intercourse that Maurice
could enjoy with Hohenlo was upon the battle-field.
In winter-quarters, that hard-fighting, hard-drinking,
and most turbulent chieftain, was not the best Mentor
for a youth whose destiny pointed him out as the leader
of a free commonwealth. After the campaigns were
over—if they ever could be over—the
Count and other nobles from the same country were too
apt to indulge in those mighty potations, which were
rather characteristic of their nation and the age.
“Since your Excellency’s departure,”
wrote Leicester’s secretary, “there hath
been among the Dutch Counts nothing but dancing and
drinking, to the grief of all this people; which foresee
that there can come no good of it. Specially
Count Hollock, who hath been drunk almost a fortnight
together.”
Leicester had rendered himself unpopular with the
States-General, and with all the leading politicians
and generals; yet, at that moment, he had deeply mortgaged
his English estates in order to raise funds to expend
in the Netherland cause. Thirty thousand pounds
sterling—according to his own statement—he
was already out of pocket, and, unless the Queen would
advance him the means to redeem his property; his
broad lands were to be brought to the hammer.