ependence already pierced through the studied decorum
of their language. They defended their negotiation with Anjou on the
ground of necessity, averring that the King of Spain had proved
inexorable to all intercession, while, through the intrigues of their
bitterest enemies, they had been entirely forsaken by the Empire.

Soon afterwards, a special legation, with Saint Aldegonde at its head,
was despatched to France to consult with the Duke of Anjou, and settled
terms of agreement with him by the treaty of Plessis les Tours (on the
29th of September, 1580), afterwards definitely ratified by the
convention of Bordeaux, signed on the 23rd of the following January.

The states of Holland and Zealand, however, kept entirely aloof from this
transaction, being from the beginning opposed to the choice of Anjou.
From the first to the last, they would have no master but Orange, and to
him, therefore, this year they formally offered the sovereignty of their
provinces; but they offered it in vain.

The conquest of Portugal had effected a diversion in the affairs of the
Netherlands. It was but a transitory one. The provinces found the hopes
which they had built upon the necessity of Spain for large supplies in
the peninsula--to their own consequent relief--soon changed into fears,
for the rapid success of Alva in Portugal gave his master additional
power to oppress the heretics of the north. Henry, the Cardinal King, had
died in 1580, after succeeding to the youthful adventurer, Don Sebastian,
slain during his chivalrous African campaign (4th of August, 1578). The
contest for the succession which opened upon the death of the aged
monarch was brief, and in fifty-eight days, the bastard Antonio, Philip's
only formidable competitor, had been utterly defeated and driven forth to
lurk, like 'a hunted wild beast, among rugged mountain caverns, with a
price of a hundred thousand crowns upon his head. In the course of the
succeeding year, Philip received homage at Lisbon as King of Portugal.
From the moment of this conquest, he was more disposed, and more at
leisure than ever, to vent his wrath against the Netherlands, and against
the man whom he considered the incarnation of their revolt.

Cardinal Granvelle had ever whispered in the King's ear the expediency of
taking off the Prince by assassination. It has been seen how subtly
distilled, and how patiently hoarded, was this priest's venom against
individuals, until the time arrived whe