poke of Gerard's detestable crime as a "laudable and generous
deed," and strongly recommended that the reward which had been offered
for the Prince's murder should be conferred on his parents, a suggestion
with which Philip gladly complied. Those parents were made noble, and
were further rewarded by the grant of certain estates in Franche-Comte,
the property of their son's victim. This was to reverse the old saying,
"Happy is the child whose father goeth to the Devil!"--for the happiness
of the father was made by the child's taking the downward road. "At a
later day," says Motley, "when the unfortunate eldest son of Orange
returned from Spain, after twenty-seven years' absence, a changeling and
a Spaniard, the restoration of those very estates was offered to him by
Philip II., provided he would continue to pay a fixed proportion of
their rents to the family of his father's murderer. The education which
Philip William had received, under the King's auspices, had, however,
not entirely destroyed all his human feelings, and he rejected the
proposal with scorn. The estates remained with the Gerard family, and
the patents of nobility which they had received were used to justify
their exemption from certain taxes, until the union of Franche-Comte
with France, when a French governor tore the documents to pieces, and
trampled them under foot."

It would be tedious to mention all the assassinations with which Philip
II. was connected. He and his proconsuls and ambassadors were concerned
in many of the plots that were directed against the peace of countries
whose power was dreaded by Spain, or against the lives of their
sovereigns or other eminent personages. Elizabeth of England was to have
been served after the same fashion as Orange. Alva sent assassins to
take her off. Much of the assassination-work that was done in France
proceeded from Spain. The Massacre of St. Bartholomew was a Spanish
inspiration. In these days it would be called a _coup d'etat_. All
Philip's proceedings toward his enemies were characterized by the spirit
of assassination. The murder of Montigny is a strong case in point; and
the artful manner in which Egmont and Horn were inveigled into his toils
shows that he was a master-hand at conspiracy. Had there been two
Philips in Europe, one would have assassinated the other, and it would
have been dangerous to bet on the success of either.

France had her grand assassinations in the sixteenth century; and a
p