ons in many towns willingly gave in their
adhesion to the new government; others refused; especially Diedrich
Sonoy, an officer of distinction, who was governor of Enkhuyzen, and
influential throughout North Holland, and who remained a stanch partisan
of Leicester. Utrecht, the stronghold of the Leicestrians, was wavering
and much torn by faction; Hohenlo and Moeurs had "banquetted and feasted"
to such good purpose that they had gained over half the captains of the
burgher-guard, and, aided by the branch of nobles, were making a good
fight against the Leicester magistracy and the clerical force, enriched
by the plunder of the old Catholic livings, who denounced as Papistical
and Hispaniolized all who favoured the party of Maurice and Barneveld.

By the end of March the envoys returned from London, and in their company
came Lord Buckhurst, as special ambassador from the Queen.

Thomas Sackville, Lord Buckhurst--afterwards Earl of Dorset and
lord-treasurer--was then fifty-one years of age. A man of large
culture-poet, dramatist, diplomatist-bred to the bar; afterwards elevated
to the peerage; endowed with high character and strong intellect; ready
with tongue and pen; handsome of person, and with a fascinating address,
he was as fit a person to send on a mission of expostulation as any man
to be found in England. But the author of the 'Induction to the Mirror
for Magistrates' and of 'Gorboduc,' had come to the Netherlands on a
forlorn hope. To expostulate in favour of peace with a people who knew
that their existence depended on war, to reconcile those to delay who
felt that delay was death, and to, heal animosities between men who were
enemies from their cradles to their graves, was a difficult mission. But
the chief ostensible object of Buckhurst was to smooth the way for
Leicester, and, if possible, to persuade the Netherlanders as to the good
inclinations of the English government. This was no easy task, for they
knew that their envoys had been dismissed, without even a promise of
subsidy. They had asked for twelve thousand soldiers and sixty thousand
pounds, and had received a volley of abuse. Over and over again, through
many months, the Queen fell into a paroxysm of rage when even an allusion
was made to the loan of fifty or sixty thousand pounds; and even had she
promised the money, it would have given but little satisfaction. As Count
Moeurs observed, he would rather see one English rose-noble than a
hundred roya