stle after castle, city after city, with such scientific
deliberation as to make it evident that, in the opinion of the
commanders, war was the only serious business to be done in the world;
that it was not to be done in a hurry, nor contrary to rule, and that
when a general had a good job upon his hands he ought to know his
profession much too thoroughly, to hasten through it before he saw his
way clear to another. From the point of time, at the close of the year
1556, when that well-trained but not very successful soldier, Strozzi,
crossed the Alps, down to the autumn of the following year, when the Duke
of Alva made his peace with the Pope, there was hardly a pitched battle,
and scarcely an event of striking interest. Alva, as usual, brought his
dilatory policy to bear upon his adversary with great effect. He had no
intention, he observed to a friend, to stake the whole kingdom of Naples
against a brocaded coat of the Duke of Guise. Moreover, he had been sent
to the war, as Ruy Gomez informed the Venetian ambassador, "with a bridle
in his mouth." Philip, sorely troubled in his mind at finding himself in
so strange a position as this hostile attitude to the Church, had
earnestly interrogated all the doctors and theologians with whom he
habitually took counsel, whether this war with the Pope would not work a
forfeiture of his title of the Most Catholic King. The Bishop of Arras
and the favorite both disapproved of the war, and encouraged, with all
their influence, the pacific inclinations of the monarch. The doctors
were, to be sure, of opinion that Philip, having acted in Italy only in
self-defence, and for the protection of his states, ought not to be
anxious as to his continued right to the title on which he valued himself
so highly. Nevertheless, such ponderings and misgivings could not but
have the effect of hampering the actions of Alva. That general chafed
inwardly at what he considered his own contemptible position. At the same
time, he enraged the Duke of Guise still more deeply by the forced
calmness of his proceedings. Fortresses were reduced, towns taken, one
after another, with the most provoking deliberation, while his distracted
adversary in vain strove to defy, or to delude him, into trying the
chances of a stricken field. The battle of Saint Quentin, the narrative
of which belongs to our subject, and will soon occupy our attention, at
last decided the Italian operations. Egmont's brilliant triumph in
Pic