Secret
correspondence between Don John and Orange--Don John at Louvain--His
efforts to ingratiate himself with the Netherlanders--His incipient
popularity--Departure of the Spanish troops--Duke of Aerschot
appointed Governor of Antwerp citadel--His insincere character.

Don John of Austria was now in his thirty-second year, having been born
in Ratisbon on the 24th of February, 1545. His father was Charles the
Fifth, Emperor of Germany, King of Spain, Dominator of Asia, Africa, and
America; his mother was Barbara Blomberg, washerwoman of Ratisbon.
Introduced to the Emperor, originally, that she might alleviate his
melancholy by her singing, she soon exhausted all that was harmonious in
her nature, for never was a more uncomfortable, unmanageable personage
than Barbara in her after life. Married to one Pyramus Kegell, who was
made a military commissary in the Netherlands, she was left a widow in
the beginning of Alva's administration. Placed under the especial
superintendence of the Duke, she became the torment of that warrior's
life. The terrible Governor, who could almost crush the heart out of a
nation of three millions, was unable to curb this single termagant.
Philip had expressly forbidden her to marry again, but Alva informed him
that she was surrounded by suitors. Philip had insisted that she should
go into a convent, but Alva, who, with great difficulty, had established
her quietly in Ghent, assured his master that she would break loose again
at the bare suggestion of a convent. Philip wished her to go to Spain,
sending her word that Don John was mortified by the life his mother was
leading, but she informed the Governor that she would be cut to pieces
before she would go to Spain. She had no objection to see her son, but
she knew too well how women were treated in that country. The Duke
complained most pathetically to his Majesty of the life they all led with
the ex-mistress of the Emperor. Never, he frequently observed, had woman
so terrible a head. She was obstinate, reckless, abominably extravagant.
She had been provided in Ghent with a handsome establishment: "with a
duenna, six other women, a major domo, two pages, one chaplain, an
almoner, and four men-servants," and this seemed a sufficiently liberal
scheme of life for the widow of a commissary. Moreover, a very ample
allowance had been made for the education of her only legitimate son,
Conrad, the other having perished by an accident on the da