emory
of all these comparatively obscure murders and spoliations. The
prosperity of Mons, one of the most flourishing and wealthy manufacturing
towns in the Netherlands, was annihilated, but there were so many cities
in the same condition that its misery was hardly remarkable.
Nevertheless, in our own days, the fall of a mouldering tower in the
ruined Chateau de Naast at last revealed the archives of all these
crimes. How the documents came to be placed there remains a mystery, but
they have at last been brought to light.

The Spaniards had thus recovered Mons, by which event the temporary
revolution throughout the whole Southern Netherlands was at an end. The
keys of that city unlocked the gates of every other in Brabant and
Flanders. The towns which had so lately embraced the authority of Orange
now hastened to disavow the Prince, and to return to their ancient,
hypocritical, and cowardly allegiance. The new oaths of fidelity were in
general accepted by Alva, but the beautiful archiepiscopal city of
Mechlin was selected for an example and a sacrifice.

There were heavy arrears due to the Spanish troops. To indemnify them,
and to make good his blasphemous prophecy of Divine chastisement for its
past misdeeds, Alva now abandoned this town to the licence of his
soldiery. By his command Don Frederic advanced to the gates and demanded
its surrender. He was answered by a few shots from the garrison. Those
cowardly troops, however, having thus plunged the city still more deeply
into the disgrace which, in Alva's eyes, they had incurred by receiving
rebels within their walls after having but just before refused admittance
to the Spanish forces, decamped during the night, and left the place
defenceless.

Early next morning there issued from the gates a solemn procession of
priests, with banner and crozier, followed by a long and suppliant throng
of citizens, who attempted by this demonstration to avert the wrath of
the victor. While the penitent psalms were resounding, the soldiers were
busily engaged in heaping dried branches and rubbish into the moat.
Before the religious exercises were concluded, thousands had forced the
gates or climbed the walls; and entered the city with a celerity which
only the hope of rapine could inspire. The sack instantly commenced. The
property of friend and foe, of Papist and Calvinist, was indiscriminately
rifled. Everything was dismantled and destroyed. "Hardly a nail," said a
Spaniard, writ