But very few days after the incidents just described, the merchant fleet which, instead of Don Luis Fazardo’s war galleons, Admiral Haultain had so longed to encounter, arrived safely at San Lucar.  It was the most splendid treasure-fleet that had ever entered a Spanish port, and the Dutch admiral’s heart might well have danced for joy, had he chanced to come a little later on the track.  There were fifty ships, under charge of General Alonzo de Ochares Galindo and General Ganevaye.  They had on board, according to the registers, 1,914,176 dollars worth of bullion for the king, and 6,086,617 dollars for merchants, or 8,000,000 dollars in all, besides rich cargoes of silk, cochineal, sarsaparilla, indigo, Brazil wood, and hides; the result of two years of pressure upon Peruvians, Mexicans, and Brazilians.  Never had Spanish finances been at so low an ebb.  Never was so splendid an income more desirable.  The king’s share of the cargo was enough to pay half the arrearages due to his mutinous troops; and for such housekeeping this was to be in funds.

There were no further exploits on land or sea that year.  There were, however, deaths of three personages often mentioned in this history.  The learned Justus Lipsius died in Louvain, a good editor and scholar, and as sincere a Catholic at last as he had been alternately a bigoted Calvinist and an earnest Lutheran.  His reputation was thought to have suffered by his later publications, but the world at large was occupied with sterner stuff than those classic productions, and left the final decision to posterity.

A man of a different mould, the turbulent, high-born, hard fighting, hard-drinking Hohenlo, died also this year, brother-in-law and military guardian, subsequently rival and political and personal antagonist, of Prince Maurice.  His daring deeds and his troublesome and mischievous adventures have been recounted in these pages.  His name will be always prominent in the history of the republic, to which he often rendered splendid service, but he died, as he had lived, a glutton and a melancholy sot.

The third remarkable personage who passed away was one whose name will be remembered as long as the Netherlands have a history, old Count John of Nassau, only surviving brother of William the Silent.  He had been ever prominent and deeply interested in the great religious and political movements of upper and lower Germany, and his services in the foundation of the Dutch commonwealth were signal, and ever generously acknowledged.  At one period, as will be recollected, he was stadholder of Gelderland, and he was ever ready with sword, purse, and counsel to aid in the great struggle for independence.

CHAPTER XLVI.