affairs might be discussed, those two points were to be reserved for the
more conclusive arbitration of gunpowder. The result of negotiations
upon such a basis was easily to be foreseen. Breath, time, and paper
were profusely wasted and nothing gained. The Prince assured his friend,
as he had done secret agents previously sent to him, that he was himself
ready to leave the land, if by so doing he could confer upon it the
blessing of peace; but that all hopes of reaching a reasonable
conclusion from the premises established was futile. The envoy treated
also with the estates, and received from them in return an elaborate
report, which was addressed immediately to the King. The style of this
paper was bold and blunt, its substance bitter and indigestible. It
informed Philip what he had heard often enough before, that the Spaniards
must go and the exiles come back, the inquisition be abolished and the
ancient privileges restored, the Roman Catholic religion renounce its
supremacy, and the Reformed religion receive permission to exist
unmolested, before he could call himself master of that little hook
of sand in the North Sea. With this paper, which was entrusted to Saint
Aldegonde, by him to be delivered to the Grand Commander, who was, after
reading it, to forward it to its destination, the negotiator returned to
his prison. Thence he did not emerge again till the course of events
released him, upon the 15th of October, 1574.

This report was far from agreeable to the Governor, and it became the
object of a fresh correspondence between his confidential agent,
Champagny, and the learned and astute Junius de Jonge, representative of
the Prince of Orange and Governor of Yeere. The communication of De
Jonge consisted of a brief note and a long discourse. The note was sharp
and stinging, the discourse elaborate and somewhat pedantic.
Unnecessarily historical and unmercifully extended, it was yet bold,
bitter, and eloquent: The presence of foreigners was proved to have been,