To place its neck under the yoke of Philip ii. and the Inquisition, after having so handsomely got rid of both, did not seem a sublime manifestation of sovereignty on the part of the people, and even Deventer had some misgivings as to the propriety of such a result.  “What then will become of our beautiful churches?” he cried, “What will princes say, what will the world in general say, what will historians say, about the honour of the English nation?”

As to the first question, it is probable that the prospect of the reformed churches would not have been cheerful, had the inquisition been re-established in Holland and Utrecht, three months after that date.  As to the second, the world and history were likely to reply, that the honour of the English nation was fortunately not entirely, entrusted at that epoch to the “magnanimous prince” of Leicester, and his democratic, counsellor-in-chief, burgomaster Deventer.

These are but samples of the ravings which sounded incessantly in the ears of the governor-general.  Was it strange that a man, so thirsty for power, so gluttonous of flattery, should be influenced by such passionate appeals?  Addressed in strains of fulsome adulation, convinced that arbitrary power was within his reach, and assured that he had but to wink his eye to see his enemies scattered before him, he became impatient of all restraint; and determined, on his return, to crush the States into insignificance.

Thus, while Buckhurst had been doing his best as a mediator to prepare the path for his return, Leicester himself end his partisans had been secretly exerting themselves to make his arrival the signal for discord; perhaps of civil war.  The calm, then, immediately succeeding the mission of Buckhurst was a deceitful one, but it seemed very promising.  The best feelings were avowed and perhaps entertained.  The States professed great devotion to her Majesty and friendly regard for the governor.  They distinctly declared that the arrangements by which Maurice and Hohenlo had been placed in their new positions were purely provisional ones, subject to modifications on the arrival of the Earl.  “All things are reduced to a quiet calm,” said Buckhurst, “ready to receive my Lord of Leicester and his authority, whenever he cometh.”

The quarrel of Hohenlo with Sir Edward Norris had been, by the exertions of Buckhurst, amicably arranged:  the Count became an intimate friend of Sir John, “to the gladding of all such as wished well to, the country;” but he nourished a deadly hatred to the Earl.  He ran up and down like a madman whenever his return was mentioned.  “If the Queen be willing to take the sovereignty,” he cried out at his own dinner-table to a large company, “and is ready to proceed roundly in this action, I will serve her to the last drop of my blood; but if she embrace it in no other sort than hitherto she hath done, and if Leicester is to return, then am I as good a man as Leicester, and will never be commanded by him.  I mean to continue on my frontier, where all who love me can come and find me.”