might be promised, could expect security for life or liberty. The
ratification of the Ghent treaty, it was insisted, was in no wise
distinct and categorical, but was made dependent on a crowd of deceitful
subterfuges. He inveighed bitterly against the stipulation in the Edict,
that the states should pay the wages of the soldiers, whom they had just
proclaimed to be knaves and rebels, and at whose hands they had suffered
such monstrous injuries. He denounced the cowardice which could permit
this band of hirelings to retire with so much jewelry, merchandize, and
plate, the result of their robberies. He expressed, however, in the name
of the two provinces, a willingness to sign the Edict, provided the
states-general would agree solemnly beforehand, in case the departure of
the Spaniards did not take place within the stipulated tune, to abstain
from all recognition of, or communication with, Don John, and themselves
to accomplish the removal of the troops by force of arms.

Such was the first and solemn manifesto made by the Prince in reply to
the Perpetual Edict; the states of Holland and Zealand uniting heart and
hand in all that he thought, wrote, and said. His private sentiments
were in strict accordance with the opinions thus publicly recorded.
"Whatever appearance Don John may assume to the contrary," wrote the
Prince to his brother, "'tis by no means his intention to maintain the
Pacification, and less still to cause the Spaniards to depart, with whom
he keeps up the most strict correspondence possible."

On the other hand, the Governor was most anxious to conciliate the
Prince. He was most earnest to win the friendship of the man without
whom every attempt to recover Holland and Zealand, and to re-establish
royal and ecclesiastical tyranny, he knew to be hopeless. "This is the
pilot," wrote Don John to Philip, "who guides the bark. He alone can
destroy or save it. The greatest obstacles would be removed if he could