“Ste. Aldegonde offers me wonders,” he said, “and I have promised him that he shall be recompensed very largely; yet, although he is poor, I do not find him influenced by mercenary or selfish considerations, but only very set in opinions regarding his religion.”

The Prince had however no doubt of Sainte Aldegonde’s sincerity, for sincerity was a leading characteristic of the man.  His word, once given, was sacred, and he had given his word to do his best towards effecting a reconciliation of the Provinces with Spain, and frustrating the efforts of England.  “Through the agency of Ste. Aldegonde and that of others” wrote Parma, “I shall watch, day and night, to bring about a reduction of Holland and Zeeland, if humanly possible.  I am quite persuaded that they will soon be sick of the English, who are now arriving, broken down, without arms or money, and obviously incapable of holding out very long.  Doubtless, however, this English alliance, and the determination of the Queen to do her utmost against us, complicates matters, and assists the government of Holland and Zeeland in opposing the inclinations of their people.”

Nothing ever came of these intended negotiations.  The miracles were never wrought, and even had Sainte Aldegonde been as venal as he was suspected of being—­which we have thus proof positive that he was not—­he never could have obtained the recompense, which, according to Philip’s thrifty policy, was not to be paid until it had been earned.  Sainte Aldegonde’s hands were clean.  It is pity that we cannot render the same tribute to his political consistency of character.  It is also certain that he remained—­not without reason—­for a long time under a cloud.  He became the object of unbounded and reckless calumny.  Antwerp had fallen, and the necessary consequence of its reduction was the complete and permanent prostration of its commerce and manufactures.  These were transferred to the new, free, national, independent, and prosperous commonwealth that had risen in the “islands” which Parma and Sainte Aldegonde had vainly hoped to restore to their ancient servitude.  In a very few years after the subjugation of Antwerp, it appeared by statistical documents that nearly all the manufactures of linen, coarse and fine cloths, serges, fustians, tapestry, gold-embroidery, arms-work, silks, and velvets, had been transplanted to the towns of Holland and Zeeland, which were flourishing and thriving, while the Flemish and Brabantine cities had become mere dens of thieves and beggars.  It was in the mistaken hope of averting this catastrophe—­as melancholy as it was inevitable and in despair of seeing all the Netherlands united, unless united in slavery, and in deep-rooted distrust of the designs and policy of England, that this statesman, once so distinguished, had listened to the insidious tongue of Parma.  He had sought to effect a general reconciliation with Spain, and the only result of his efforts was a blight upon his own illustrious name.