ary costume. At
least, there are several portraits of him in complete mail,--one from
the pencil of Titian. A picture taken at the present time was sent by
him to Queen Mary, who, in this age of chivalry, may have felt some
pride in seeing her lord in the panoply of war.

On the king's arrival at the camp, he was received with all the honors
of a victor; with flourishes of trumpets, salvos of artillery, and the
loud shouts of the soldiery. The duke of Savoy laid at his feet the
banners and other trophies of the fight, and, kneeling down, would have
kissed Philip's hand; but the king, raising him from the ground, and
embracing him as he did so, said that the acknowledgments were due from
himself to the general who had won him such a victory. At the same time,
he paid a well-deserved compliment to the brilliant part which Egmont
and his brave companions had borne in the battle.[216]

[Sidenote: FRENCH ARMY ROUTED.]

The first thing to be done was to dispose of the prisoners, whose number
embarrassed the conquerors. Philip dismissed all those of the common
file, on the condition that they should not bear arms for six months
against the Spaniards. The condition did no great detriment to the
French service, as the men, on their return, were sent to garrison some
distant towns, and their places in the army filled by the troops whom
they had relieved. The cavaliers and persons of condition were lodged in
fortresses, where they could be securely detained till the amount of
their respective ransoms was determined. These ransoms formed an
important part of the booty of the conqueror. How important, may be
inferred from the sum offered by the constable on his own account and
that of his son,--no less, it is said, than a hundred and sixty-five
thousand gold crowns.[217] The soldier of that day, when the penalty was
loss of fortune as well as of freedom, must be confessed to have fought
on harder conditions than at present.

A council of war was next called, to decide on further operations. When
Charles the Fifth received tidings of the victory of St. Quentin, the
first thing he asked, as we are told, was "whether Philip were at
Paris."[218] Had Charles been in command, he would doubtless have
followed up the blow by presenting himself at once before the French
capital. But Philip was not of that sanguine temper which overlooks, or
at least overleaps, the obstacles in its way. Charles calculated the
chances of success; Philip, t