Don John, more than ever enthralled by the bride of St. Bartholomew, knew not that her sole purpose in visiting his dominion had been to corrupt his servants and to undermine his authority.  His own purpose, however, had been less to pay court to the Queen than to make, use of her presence to cover his own designs.  That purpose he proceeded instantly to execute.  The Queen next morning pursued her voyage by the river to Liege, and scarcely had she floated out of his sight than he sprang upon his horse and, accompanied by a few trusty attendants, galloped out of the gate and across the bridge which led to the citadel.  He had already despatched the loyal Berlaymont, with his four equally loyal sons, the Seigneurs de Meghen, Floyon, Hierges, and Haultepenne to that fortress.  These gentlemen had informed the castellan that the Governor was about to ride forth hunting, and that it would be proper to offer him the hospitalities of the castle as he passed on his way.  A considerable number of armed men had been concealed in the woods and thickets of the neighbourhood.  The Seigneur de Froymont, suspecting nothing, acceded to the propriety of the suggestion made by the Berlaymonts.  Meantime, with a blast of his horn, Don John appeared at the castle gate.  He entered the fortress with the castellan, while one of the gentlemen watched outside, as the ambushed soldiers came toiling up the precipice.  When all was ready the gentleman returned to the hall, and made a signal to Don John, as he sat at breakfast with the constable.  The Governor sprang from the table and drew his sword; Berlaymont and his four sons drew their pistols, while at the same instant, the soldiers entered.  Don John, exclaiming that this was the first day of his government, commanded the castellan to surrender.  De Froymont, taken by surprise, and hardly understanding this very melo-dramatic attack upon a citadel by its own lawful governor, made not much difficulty in complying.  He was then turned out of doors, along with his garrison, mostly feeble old men and invalids.  The newly arrived soldiers took their places, at command of the Governor, and the stronghold of Namur was his own.

There was little doubt that the representative of Philip had a perfect right to possess himself of any fortress within his government; there could be as little that the sudden stratagem by which he had thus made himself master of this citadel would prove offensive to the estates, while it could hardly be agreeable to the King; and yet it is not certain that he could have accomplished his purpose in any other way.  Moreover, the achievement was one of a projected series by which he meant to re-vindicate his dwindling authority.  He was weary of playing the hypocrite, and convinced that he and his monarch were both abhorred by the Netherlanders.  Peace was impossible—­war was forbidden him.  Reduced almost to a nullity by the Prince of Orange, it was time for him to make a stand, and in this impregnable fastness his position