was supposed to have already increased his income to forty thousand a year by the proceeds of his investments at Antwerp.  As already intimated, his military character was sometimes profoundly misunderstood.  He was often considered rather a pedantic than a practical commander, more capable to discourse of battles than to gain them.  Notwithstanding that his long life had been an, almost unbroken campaign, the ridiculous accusation of timidity was frequently made against him.  A gentleman at the court of the Emperor Charles once addressed a letter to the Duke with the title of “General of his Majesty’s armies in the Duchy of Milan in time of peace, and major-domo of the household in the time of war.”  It was said that the lesson did the Duke good, but that he rewarded very badly the nobleman who gave it, having subsequently caused his head to be taken off.  In general, however, Alva manifested a philosophical contempt for the opinions expressed concerning his military fame, and was especially disdainful of criticism expressed by his own soldiers.  “Recollect,” said he, at a little later period, to Don John of Austria, “that the first foes with whom one has to contend are one’s own troops; with their clamors for an engagement at this moment, and—­their murmurs, about results at another; with their ’I thought that the battle should be fought;’ or, ‘it was my, opinion that the occasion ought not to be lost.’  Your highness will have opportunity enough to display valor, and will never be weak enough to be conquered by the babble of soldiers.”

In person he was tall, thin, erect, with a small head, a long visage, lean yellow cheek, dark twinkling eyes, a dust complexion, black bristling hair, and a long sable-silvered beard, descending in two waving streams upon his breast.

Such being the design, the machinery was well selected.  The best man in Europe to lead the invading force was placed at the head of ten thousand picked veterans.  The privates in this exquisite little army, said the enthusiastic connoisseur Brantome, who travelled post into Lorraine expressly to see them on their march, all wore engraved or gilded armor, and were in every respect equipped like captains.  They were the first who carried muskets, a weapon which very much astonished the Flemings when it first rattled in their ears.  The musketeers, he observed, might have been mistaken, for princes, with such agreeable and graceful arrogance did they present themselves.  Each was attended by his servant or esquire, who carried his piece for him, except in battle, and all were treated with extreme deference by the rest of the army, as if they had been officers.  The four regiments of Lombardy, Sardinia, Sicily, and Naples, composed a total of not quite nine thousand of the best foot soldiers in Europe.  They were commanded respectively by Don Sancho de Lodiono, Don Gonzalo de Bracamonte, Julien Romero, and Alfonso de Ulloa, all distinguished and experienced generals.  The cavalry, amounting