it might be as well to make a similar
attempt on the Flemish side, in preference, by breaking through the dykes
in the neighbourhood of Saftingen. Orange replied, by demonstrating that
the land in the region which he had indicated was of a character to
ensure success, while in the other direction there were certain very
unfavourable circumstances which rendered the issue doubtful. The result
was destined to prove the sagacity of the Prince, for it will be shown in
the sequel, that the Saftingen plan, afterwards really carried out, was
rather advantageous than detrimental to the enemy's projects.

Sainte Aldegonde, accordingly, yielded to the arguments and entreaties of
his friend, and repaired without delay to Antwerp.

The advice of William the Silent--as will soon be related--was not acted
upon; and, within a few weeks after it had been given, he was in his
grave. Nowhere was his loss more severely felt than in Antwerp. It
seemed, said a contemporary, that with his death had died all authority.
The Prince was the only head which the many-membered body of that very
democratic city ever spontaneously obeyed. Antwerp was a small
republic--in time of peace intelligently and successfully
administered--which in the season of a great foreign war, amid plagues,
tumults, famine, and internal rebellion, required the firm hand and the
clear brain of a single chief. That brain and hand had been possessed by
Orange alone.

Before his death he had desired that Sainte Aldegonde should accept the
office of burgomaster of the city. Nominally, the position was not so
elevated as were many of the posts which that distinguished patriot had
filled. In reality, it was as responsible and arduous a place as could be
offered to any man's acceptance throughout the country. Sainte Aldegonde
consented, not without some reluctance. He felt that there was odium to
be incurred; he knew that much would be expected of him, and that his
means would be limited. His powers would be liable to a constant and
various restraint. His measures were sure to be the subject of perpetual
cavil. If the city were besieged, there were nearly one hundred thousand
mouths to feed, and nearly one hundred thousand tongues to dispute about
furnishing the food.

For the government of Antwerp had been degenerating from a well-organised
municipal republicanism into anarchy. The clashing of the various bodies
exercising power had become incessant and intolerable. The burg