rate all his undertakings. "If the Spaniard have such a May as he
has had an April," said Lord North, "it will put water in his wine."

Meantime, as St. George's Day was approaching, and as the Earl was fond
of banquets and ceremonies, it was thought desirable to hold a great
triumphal feast at Utrecht. His journey to that city from the Hague was a
triumphal procession. In all the towns through which he passed he was
entertained with military display, pompous harangues, interludes, dumb
shows, and allegories. At Amsterdam--a city which he compared to Venice
for situation and splendour, and where one thousand ships were constantly
lying--he was received with "sundry great whales and other fishes of
hugeness," that gambolled about his vessel, and convoyed him to the
shore. These monsters of the deep presented him to the burgomaster and
magistrates who were awaiting him on the quay. The burgomaster made him a
Latin oration, to which Dr. Bartholomew Clerk responded, and then the
Earl was ushered to the grand square, upon which, in his honour, a
magnificent living picture was exhibited, in which he figured as Moses,
at the head of the Israelites, smiting the Philistines hip and thigh.
After much mighty banqueting in Amsterdam, as in the other cities, the
governor-general came to Utrecht. Through the streets of this antique and
most picturesque city flows the palsied current of the Rhine, and every
barge and bridge were decorated with the flowers of spring. Upon this
spot, where, eight centuries before the Anglo-Saxon, Willebrod had first
astonished the wild Frisians with the pacific doctrines of Jesus, and had
been stoned to death as his reward, stood now a more arrogant
representative of English piety. The balconies were crowded with fair
women, and decorated with scarves and banners. From the Earl's
residence--the ancient palace of the Knights of Rhodes--to the cathedral,
the way was lined with a double row of burgher guards, wearing red roses
on their arms, and apparelled in the splendid uniforms for which the
Netherlanders were celebrated. Trumpeters in scarlet and silver, barons,
knights, and great officers, in cloth of gold and silks of all colours;
the young Earl of Essex, whose career was to be so romantic, and whose
fate so tragic; those two ominous personages, the deposed little
archbishop-elector of Cologne, with his melancholy face, and the unlucky
Don Antonio, Pretender of Portugal, for whom, dead or alive, thirty