“Before I could get into the room,” said Caron, on one such occasion, “she called out, ’Have you not always told me that the States never could, would, or should treat for peace with the enemy?  Yet now it is plain enough that they have proceeded only too far in negotiations.’  And she then swore a big oath that if the States were to deceive her she meant to take such vengeance that men should talk of it for ever and ever.”  It was a long time before the envoy could induce her to listen to a single word, although the, perfect sincerity of the States in their attitude to the queen and to Spain was unquestionable, and her ill-humour on the subject continued long after it had been demonstrated how much she had been deceived.

Yet it was impossible in the nature of things for the States to play her false, even if no reliance were to be placed on their sagacity and their honour.  Even the recent naval expedition of the republic against the distant possessions of Spain—­which in its result had caused so much disappointment to the States, and cost them so many lives, including that of the noble admiral whom every sailor in the Netherlands adored had been of immense advantage to England.  The queen acknowledged that the Dutch Navy had averted the storm which threatened to descend upon her kingdom out of Spain, the Spanish ships destined for the coast of Ireland having been dispersed and drawn to the other aide of the world by these demonstrations of her ally.  For this she vowed that she would be eternally grateful, and she said as much in “letters full of sugar and honey”—­according to the French envoy—­which she sent to the States by Sir Francis Vere.  She protested, in short, that she had been better and more promptly served in her necessities by the Netherlands than by her own subjects.

All this sugar and honey however did not make the mission of Envoy Edmonds less bitter to the States.  They heard that he was going about through half the cities of the obedient Netherlands in a sort of triumphal procession, and it was the general opinion of the politicians and financiers of the continent that peace between Spain and England was as good as made.  Naturally therefore, notwithstanding the exuberant expressions of gratitude on the part of Elizabeth, the republican Government were anxious to know what all this parleying meant.  They could not believe that people would make a raree-show of the English envoy except for sufficient reason.  Caron accordingly presented himself before the queen, with respectful inquiries on the subject.  He found her in appearance very angry, not with him, but with Edmonds, from whom she had received no advices.  “I don’t know what they are doing with him,” said her Majesty, “I hear from others that they are ringing the church bells wherever he goes, and that they have carried him through a great many more places than was necessary.  I suppose that they think him a monster, and they are carrying him about to exhibit him.  All this is done,” she continued, “to throw dust in the eyes of the poor people, and to put it into their heads that the Queen of England is suing for peace, which is very wide of the mark.”