History of the United Netherlands, 1603-04 | Page 5

one interest should now, he urged, unite their
efforts, the Spaniard, deprived not only of the Netherlands, but, if he
were not wise in time, banished from the ocean and stripped of all his
transmarine possessions, would be obliged to consent to a peace
founded on the only secure basis, equality of strength. The envoy
concluded by beseeching the king for assistance to Ostend, now
besieged for two years long.
But James manifested small disposition to melt in the fervour of the
Advocate's eloquence. He answered with a few cold commonplaces.
Benignant but extremely cautious, he professed goodwill enough to the
States but quite as much for Spain, a power with which, he observed,
he had never quarrelled, and from which he had received the most
friendly offices. The archdukes, too, he asserted, had never been hostile
to the realm, but only to the Queen of England. In brief, he was new to
English affairs, required time to look about him, but would not disguise
that his genius was literary, studious, and tranquil, and much more
inclined to peace than to war.
In truth, James had cause to look very sharply about him. It required an
acute brain and steady nerves to understand and to control the whirl of
parties and the conflict of interests and intrigues, the chameleon
shiftings of character and colour, at this memorable epoch of transition
in the realm which he had just inherited. There was a Scotch party,
favourable on the whole to France; there was a Spanish party, there was
an English party, and, more busy than all, there was a party--not Scotch,
nor French, nor English, nor Spanish--that un-dying party in all
commonwealths or kingdoms which ever fights for itself and for the
spoils.
France and Spain had made peace with each other at Vervins five years
before, and had been at war ever since.
Nothing could be plainer nor more cynical than the language
exchanged between the French monarch and the representative of Spain.
That Philip III.--as the Spanish Government by a convenient fiction
was always called--was the head and front of the great Savoy-Biron

conspiracy to take Henry's life and dismember his kingdom, was hardly
a stage secret. Yet diplomatic relations were still preserved between the
two countries, and wonderful diplomatic interviews had certainly been
taking place in Paris.
Ambassador Tassis had walked with lofty port into Henry's cabinet,
disdaining to salute any of the princes of the blood or high
functionaries of state in the apartments through which he passed, and
with insolent defiance had called Henry to account for his dealing with
the Dutch rebels.
"Sire, the king my master finds it very strange," he said, "that you still
continue to assist his rebels in Holland, and that you shoot at his troops
on their way to the Netherlands. If you don't abstain from such
infractions of his rights he prefers open war to being cheated by such a
pretended peace. Hereupon I demand your reply."
"Mr. Ambassador," replied the king, "I find it still more strange that
your master is so impudent as to dare to make such complaints--he who
is daily making attempts upon my life and upon this State. Even if I do
assist the Hollanders, what wrong is that to him? It is an organized
commonwealth, powerful, neighbourly, acknowledging no subjection
to him. But your master is stirring up rebellion in my own kingdom,
addressing himself to the princes of my blood and my most notable
officers, so that I have been obliged to cut off the head of one of the
most beloved of them all. By these unchristian proceedings he has
obliged me to take sides with the Hollanders, whom I know to be
devoted to me; nor have I done anything for them except to pay the
debts I owed them. I know perfectly well that the king your master is
the head of this conspiracy, and that the troops of Naples were
meditating an attack upon my kingdom. I have two letters written by
the hand of your master to Marshal Biron, telling him to trust Fuentes
as if it were himself, and it is notorious that Fuentes has projected and
managed all the attempts to assassinate me. Do you, think you have a
child to deal with? The late King of Spain knew me pretty well. If this
one thinks himself wiser I shall let him see who I am. Do you want
peace or war? I am ready for either."
The ambassador, whose head had thus been so vigorously washed--as
Henry expressed it in recounting the interview afterwards to the Dutch
envoy, Dr. Aerssens--stammered some unintelligible excuses, and

humbly begged his Majesty not to be offended. He then retired quite
crest-fallen, and took leave most politely of everybody as he went,