He informed the King that there was but one man in the Netherlands,
and that he was called the Prince of Orange. To him everything was
communicated, with him everything was negotiated, opinions expressed
by him were implicitly followed. The Governor vividly described the
misgivings with which he had placed himself in the power of the states by
going to Louvain, and the reluctance with which he had consented to send
away the troops. After this concession, he complained that the insolence
of the states had increased. "They think that they can do and undo
what they like, now that I am at their mercy," he wrote to Philip.
"Nevertheless, I do what you command without regarding that I am sold,
and that I am in great danger of losing, my liberty, a loss which I
dread more than anything in the world, for I wish to remain justified
before God and men." He expressed, however, no hopes as to the result.
Disrespect and rudeness could be pushed no further than it had already
gone, while the Prince of Orange, the actual governor of the country,
considered his own preservation dependent upon maintaining things as
they then were. Don John, therefore, advised the King steadily to make
preparations for "a rude and terrible war," which was not to be avoided,
save by a miracle, and which ought not--to find him in this unprepared
state. He protested that it was impossible to exaggerate the boldness
which the people felt at seeing him thus defenseless. "They say
publicly," he continued, "that your Majesty is not to be feared, not
being capable of carrying on a war, and having consumed and exhausted
every resource. One of the greatest injuries ever inflicted upon us was
by Marquis Havre, who, after his return from Spain, went about publishing
everywhere the poverty of the royal exchequer. This has emboldened them
to rise, for they believe that, whatever the disposition, there is no
strength to chastise them. They see a proof of the correctness of their
reasoning in the absence of new levies, and in the heavy arrearages due