oops, and garnished by the free companies of
archers and musketeers, in their picturesque costumes, escorted the young
prince along the streets of the capital. Don John was on horseback,
wrapped in a long green cloak, riding between the Bishop of Liege and the
Papal nuncio. He passed beneath countless triumphal arches. Banners waved
before him, on which the battle of Lepanto, and other striking scenes in
his life, were emblazoned. Minstrels sang verses, poets recited odes,
rhetoric clubs enacted fantastic dramas in his honor, as he rode along.
Young virgins crowned him with laurels. Fair women innumerable were
clustered at every window, roof, and balcony, their bright robes floating
like summer clouds above him. "Softly from those lovely clouds," says a
gallant chronicler, "descended the gentle rain of flowers." Garlands were
strewed before his feet, laurelled victory sat upon his brow. The same
conventional enthusiasm and decoration which had characterized the
holiday marches of a thousand conventional heroes were successfully
produced. The proceedings began with the church, and ended with the
banquet, the day was propitious, the populace pleased, and after a
brilliant festival, Don John of Austria saw himself Governor-General of
the provinces.

Three days afterwards, the customary oaths, to be kept with the customary
conscientiousness, were rendered at the Town House, and for a brief
moment all seemed smiling and serene.

There was a reverse to the picture. In truth, no language can describe
the hatred which Don John entertained for the Netherlands and all the
inhabitants. He had come to the country only as a stepping-stone to the
English throne, and he never spoke, in his private letters, of the
provinces or the people but in terms of abhorrence. He was in a "Babylon
of disgust," in a "Hell," surrounded by "drunkards," "wineskins,"
"scoundrels," and the like. From the moment of his arrival he had
strained every nerve to retain the Spanish troops, and to send them away
by sea when it should be no longer feasible to keep them. Escovedo shared
in the sentiments and entered fully into the schemes of his chief. The
plot, the secret enterprise, was the great cause of the advent of Don
John in the uncongenial clime of Flanders. It had been, therefore, highly
important, in his estimation, to set, as soon as possible, about the
accomplishment of this important business. He accordingly entered into
correspondence with Antonio