same heretics and liberty of conscience for all men, were indispensable conditions for the prosperity of the great capital.  Its downfall was instantaneous.  The merchants and industrious artisans all wandered away from the place which had been the seat of a world-wide traffic.  Civilisation and commerce departed, and in their stead were the citadel and the Jesuits.  By express command of Philip, that order, banished so recently, was reinstated in Antwerp, as well as throughout the obedient provinces; and all the schools and colleges were placed under its especial care.  No children could be thenceforth instructed except by the lips of those fathers.  Here was a curb more efficacious even than the citadel.  That fortress was at first garrisoned with Walloons and Germans.  “I have not yet induced the citizens,” said Parma, “to accept a Spanish garrison, nor am I surprised; so many of them remembering past events (alluding to the ‘Spanish fury,’ but not mentioning it by name), and observing the frequent mutinies at the present time.  Before long, I expect, however, to make the Spaniards as acceptable and agreeable as the inhabitants of the country themselves.”

It may easily be supposed that Philip was pleased with the triumphs that had thus been achieved.  He was even grateful, or affected to be grateful, to him who had achieved them.  He awarded great praise to Alexander for his exertions, on the memorable occasions of the attack upon the bridge, and the battle of the Kowenstyn; but censured him affectionately for so rashly exposing his life.  “I have no words,” he said, “to render the thanks which are merited for all that you have been doing.  I recommend you earnestly however to have a care for the security of your person, for that is of more consequence than all the rest.”

After the news of the reduction of the city, he again expressed gratification, but in rather cold language.  “From such obstinate people,” said he, “not more could be extracted than has been extracted; therefore the capitulation is satisfactory.”  What more he wished to extract it would be difficult to say, for certainly the marrow had been extracted from the bones, and the dead city was thenceforth left to moulder under the blight of a foreign garrison and an army of Jesuits.  “Perhaps religious affairs will improve before long,” said Philip.  They did improve very soon, as he understood the meaning of improvement.  A solitude of religion soon brought with it a solitude in every other regard, and Antwerp became a desert, as Sainte Aldegonde had foretold would be the case.

The King had been by no means so calm, however, when the intelligence of the capitulation first reached him at Madrid.  On the contrary, his oldest courtiers had never seen him exhibit such marks of hilarity.