ich the world-empire had
been effectually shattered, and Philip and the Pope completely
out-manoeuvred.

Better that the five thousand fighters under Charles Mansfeld had been
around Gertruydenberg. His aged father did what he could. As many men as
could be spared from the garrison of Antwerp and its neighbourhood were
collected; but the Spaniards were reluctant to march, except under old
Mondragon. That hero, who had done much of the hardest work, and had
fought in most of the battles of the century, was nearly as old as the
century. Being now turned of ninety, he thought best to keep house in
Antwerp Castle: Accordingly twelve thousand foot and three thousand horse
took the field under the more youthful Peter Ernest? But Peter Ernest,
when his son was not there to superintend his operations, was nothing but
a testy octogenarian, while the two together were not equal to the little
finger of Farnese, whom Philip would have displaced, had he not
fortunately died.

"Nothing is to be expected out of this place but toads and poison," wrote
Ybarra in infinite disgust to the two secretaries of state at Madrid. "I
have done my best to induce Fuentes to accept that which the patent
secured him, and Count Peter is complaining that Fuentes showed him the
patent so late only to play him a trick. There is a rascally pack of
meddlers here, and the worst of them all are the women, whom I
particularly give to the devil. There is no end to the squabbles as to
who shall take the lead in relieving Gertruydenberg."

Mansfeld at last came ponderously up in the neighbourhood of Turnhout.
There was a brilliant little skirmish, in the neighbourhood of this
place, in which a hundred and fifty Dutch cavalry under the famous
brothers Bax defeated four hundred picked lancers of Spain and Italy. But
Mansfeld could get nothing but skirmishes. In vain he plunged about among
the caltrops and man-traps. In vain he knocked at the fortifications of
Hohenlo on the east and of Maurice on the west. He found them
impracticable, impregnable, obdurate. It was Maurice's intention to take
his town at as small sacrifice of life as possible. A trumpet was sent on
some trifling business to Mansfeld, in reply to a communication made by
the general to Maurice.

"Why does your master," said the choleric veteran to the trumpeter, "why
does Prince Maurice, being a lusty young commander as he is, not come out
of his trenches into the open field and fight me like a m