It was certainly not a cheerful prospect for the States.  Their chief ally was determined that they should disarm, should strip themselves naked, when the mightiest conspiracy against the religious freedom and international independence of Europe ever imagined was perfecting itself before their eyes, and when hostile armies, more numerous than ever before known, were at their very door.  To wait until the enemy was at their throat, and then to rely upon a king who trembled at the sight of a drawn sword, was hardly the highest statesmanship.  Even if it had been the chivalrous Henry instead of the pacific James that had held out the promise of help, they would have been mad to follow such counsel.

The conversation lasted more than an hour.  It was in vain that Caron painted in dark colours the cruel deeds done by the Spaniards in Mulheim and Aachen, and the proceedings of the Archbishop of Cologne in Rees.  The King was besotted, and no impression could be made upon him.

“At any rate,” said the Envoy, “the arrangement cannot be concluded without the King of France.”

“What excuse is that?” said James.  “Now that the King is entirely Spanish, you are trying to excuse your delays by referring to him.  You have deferred rescuing the poor city of Wesel from the hands of the Spaniard long enough.  I am amazed to have heard never a word from you on that subject since your departure.  I had expressed my wish to you clearly enough that you should inform the States of my intention to give them any assurance they chose to demand.”

Caron was much disappointed at the humour of his Majesty.  Coming freshly as he did from the council of the States, and almost from the seat of war, he had hoped to convince and content him.  But the King was very angry with the States for putting him so completely in the wrong.  He had also been much annoyed at their having failed to notify him of their military demonstration in the Electorate of Cologne to avenge the cruelties practised upon the Protestants there.  He asked Caron if he was instructed to give him information regarding it.  Being answered in the negative, he said he had thought himself of sufficient importance to the States and enough in their confidence to be apprised of their military movements.  It was for this, he said, that his ambassador sat in their council.  Caron expressed the opinion that warlike enterprises of the kind should be kept as secret as possible in order to be successful.  This the King disputed, and loudly declared his vexation at being left in ignorance of the matter.  The Ambassador excused himself as well as he could, on the ground that he had been in Zealand when the troops were marching, but told the King his impression that they had been sent to chastise the people of Cologne for their cruelty in burning and utterly destroying the city of Mulheim.

“That is none of your affair,” said the King.

“Pardon me, your Majesty,” replied Caron, “they are our fellow religionists, and some one at least ought to resent the cruelty practised upon them.”