and assisted in the bombardment of the
citadel of that place. Soon afterwards he went over to Don John of
Austria, and surrendered to him the town and fortress of Gravelines, of
which he then continued governor in the name of the king. He was
fortunate in the accumulation of office and of money; rather unlucky in
his campaigning. He was often wounded in action, and usually defeated
when commanding in chief. He lost an arm at the siege of Sluy's, and had
now lost his life almost by an accident. Although twice married he left
no children to inherit his great estates, while the civil and military
offices left vacant by his death were sufficient to satisfy the claims of
five aspiring individuals. The Count of Varax succeeded him as general of
artillery; but it was difficult to find a man to replace La Motte,
possessing exactly the qualities which had made that warrior so valuable
to his king. The type was rapidly disappearing, and most fortunately for
humanity, if half the stories told of him by grave chroniclers,
accustomed to discriminate between history and gossip, are to be
believed. He had committed more than one cool homicide. Although not
rejoicing in the same patronymic as his Spanish colleague of Friesland,
he too was ready on occasion to perform hangman's work. When
sergeant-major in Flanders, he had himself volunteered--so ran the
chronicle--to do execution on a poor wretch found guilty of professing
the faith of Calvin; and, with his own hands, had prepared a fire of
straw, tied his victim to the stake, and burned him to cinders. Another
Netherlander for the name crime of heresy had been condemned to be torn
to death by horses. No one could be found to carry out the sentence. The
soldiers under La Motte's command broke into mutiny rather than permit
themselves to be used for such foul purposes; but the ardent young
sergeant-major came forward, tied the culprit by the arms and legs to two
horses, and himself whipped them to their work till it was duly
accomplished. Was it strange that in Philip's reign such energy should be
rewarded by wealth, rank, and honour? Was not such a labourer in the
vineyard worthy of his hire?

Still another eminent chieftain in the king's service disappeared at this
time--one who, although unscrupulous and mischievous enough in his day,
was however not stained by any suspicion of crimes like these. Count
Charles Mansfeld, tired of governing his decrepit parent Peter Ernest,
who, since