time strict orders
were issued by Orange, forbidding all hostile measures against the
Emperor or any of the princes of the empire, against Sweden, Denmark,
England, or against any potentates who were protectors of the true
Christian religion. The Duke of Alva and his adherents were designated as
the only lawful antagonists. The Prince, moreover, gave minute
instructions as to the discipline to be observed in his fleet. The
articles of war were to be strictly enforced. Each commander was to
maintain a minister on board his ship, who was to preach God's word, and
to preserve Christian piety among the crew. No one was to exercise any
command in the fleet save native Netherlanders, unless thereto expressly
commissioned by the Prince of Orange. All prizes were to be divided and
distributed by a prescribed rule. No persons were to be received on
board, either as sailors or soldiers, save "folk of goad name and fame."
No man who had ever been punished of justice was to be admitted. Such
were the principal features in the organization of that infant navy
which, in course of this and the following centuries, was to achieve so
many triumphs, and to which a powerful and adventurous mercantile marine
had already led the way. "Of their ships," said Cardinal Bentivoglio,
"the Hollanders make houses, of their houses schools. Here they are born,
here educated, here they learn their profession. Their sailors, flying
from one pale to the other, practising their art wherever the sun
displays itself to mortals, become so skilful that they can scarcely be
equalled, certainly not surpassed; by any nation in the civilized world."

The Prince, however, on his return from France, had never been in so
forlorn a condition. "Orange is plainly perishing," said one of the
friends of the cause. Not only had he no funds to organize new levies,
but he was daily exposed to the most clamorously-urged claims, growing
out of the army which he had been recently obliged to disband. It had
been originally reported in the Netherlands that he had fallen in the
battle of Moncontour. "If he have really been taken off," wrote Viglius,
hardly daring to credit the great news, "we shall all of us have less
cause to tremble." After his actual return, however, lean and beggared,
with neither money nor credit, a mere threatening shadow without
substance or power, he seemed to justify the sarcasm of Granvelle. "Vana
sine viribus ira," quoted the Cardinal, and of a verity