s said they were disaffected, but the Jesuits might be making a
mistake. He might have to fight more than one battle. He would have to
leave detachments as he advanced to London, to cover his communications,
and a reverse would be fatal. He would obey if his Majesty persisted,
but he recommended Philip to continue to amuse the English with the
treaty till the Armada was ready, and, in evident consciousness that the
enterprise would be harder than Philip imagined, he even gave it as his
own opinion still (notwithstanding Cadiz), that if Elizabeth would
surrender the cautionary towns in Flanders to Spain, and would grant the
English Catholics a fair degree of liberty, it would be Philip's
interest to make peace at once without stipulating for further terms. He
could make a new war if he wished at a future time, when circumstances
might be more convenient and the Netherlands revolt subdued.

To such conditions as these it seemed that Elizabeth was inclining to
consent. The towns had been trusted to her keeping by the
Netherlanders. To give them up to the enemy to make better conditions
for herself would be an infamy so great as to have disgraced Elizabeth
for ever; yet she would not see it. She said the towns belonged to
Philip and she would only be restoring his own to him. Burghley bade
her, if she wanted peace, send back Drake to the Azores and frighten
Philip for his gold ships. She was in one of her ungovernable moods.
Instead of sending out Drake again she ordered her own fleet to be
dismantled and laid up at Chatham, and she condescended to apologise to
Parma for the burning of the transports at Cadiz as done against her
orders.

This was in December 1587, only five months before the Armada sailed
from Lisbon. Never had she brought herself and her country so near ruin.
The entire safety of England rested at that moment on the adventurers,
and on the adventurers alone.

Meanwhile, with enormous effort the destruction at Cadiz had been
repaired. The great fleet was pushed on, and in February Santa Cruz
reported himself almost ready. Santa Cruz and Philip, however, were not
in agreement as to what should be done. Santa Cruz was a fighting
admiral, Philip was not a fighting king. He changed his mind as often as
Elizabeth. Hot fits varied with cold. His last news from England led him
to hope that fighting would not be wanted. The Commissioners were
sitting at Ostend. On one side there were the formal negotiations, in