had united to put down the insurrection were distinguished.  The fifteen thousand Calvinists, fierce and disorderly as ever, maintained a threatening aspect.  Nevertheless, the Prince was allowed to ride into the midst of the square.  The articles were then read aloud by his command, after which, with great composure, he made a few observations.  He pointed out that the arrangement offered them was founded upon the September concessions, that the right of worship was conceded, that the foreign garrison was forbidden, and that nothing further could be justly demanded or honorably admitted.  He told them that a struggle upon their part would be hopeless, for the Catholics and Lutherans, who were all agreed as to the justice of the treaty, outnumbered them by nearly two to one.  He, therefore, most earnestly and affectionately adjured them to testify their acceptance to the peace offered by repeating the words with which he should conclude.  Then, with a firm voice; the Prince exclaimed, “God Save the King!” It was the last time that those words were ever heard from the lips of the man already proscribed by Philip.  The crowd of Calvinists hesitated an instant, and then, unable to resist the tranquil influence, convinced by his reasonable language, they raised one tremendous shout of “Vive le Roi!”

The deed was done, the peace accepted, the dreadful battle averted, Antwerp saved.  The deputies of the Calvinists now formally accepted and signed the articles.  Kind words were exchanged among the various classes of fellow-citizens, who but an hour before had been thirsting for each other’s blood, the artillery and other weapons of war were restored to the arsenals, Calvinists, Lutherans, and Catholics, all laid down their arms, and the city, by three o’clock, was entirely quiet.  Fifty thousand armed men had been up, according to some estimates, yet, after three days of dreadful expectation, not a single person had been injured, and the tumult was now appeased.

The Prince had, in truth, used the mutual animosity of Protestant sects to a good purpose; averting bloodshed by the very weapons with which the battle was to have been waged.  Had it been possible for a man like William the Silent to occupy the throne where Philip the Prudent sat, how different might have been the history of Spain and the fate of the Netherlands.  Gresham was right, however, in his conjecture that the Regent and court would not “take the business well.”  Margaret of Parma was incapable of comprehending such a mind as that of Orange, or of appreciating its efforts.  She was surrounded by unscrupulous and mercenary soldiers, who hailed the coming civil war as the most profitable of speculations.  “Factotum” Mansfeld; the Counts Aremberg and Meghem, the Duke of Aerschot, the Sanguinary Noircarmes, were already counting their share in the coming confiscations.  In the internecine conflict approaching, there would be gold for the gathering, even if no honorable laurels would wreath their swords.  “Meghen with his regiment is desolating the country,” wrote William of Orange to the Landgrave of Hesse, “and reducing many people to poverty.  Aremberg is doing the same in Friesland.  They are only thinking how, under the pretext of religion, they may grind the poor Christians, and grow rich and powerful upon their estates and their blood.”