sistance. Although Genlis, by his
misconduct, had sacrificed his army and himself, yet the Prince as still
justly sanguine as to the policy of the French court. The papers which
had been found in the possession of Genlis by his conquerors all spoke
one language. "You would be struck with stupor," wrote Alva's secretary,
"could you see a letter which is now in my power, addressed by the King
of France to Louis of Nassau." In that letter the King had declared his
determination to employ all the forces which God had placed in his hands
to rescue the Netherlands from the oppression under which they were
groaning. In accordance with the whole spirit and language of the French
government, was the tone of Coligny in his correspondence with Orange.
The Admiral assured the Prince that there was no doubt as to the
earnestness of the royal intentions in behalf of the Netherlands, and
recommending extreme caution, announced his hope within a few days to
effect a junction with him at the head of twelve thousand French
arquebusiers, and at least three thousand cavalry. Well might the Prince
of Orange, strong, and soon to be strengthened, boast that the
Netherlands were free, and that Alva was in his power. He had a right to
be sanguine, for nothing less than a miracle could now destroy his
generous hopes--and, alas! the miracle took place; a miracle of perfidy
and bloodshed such as the world, familiar as it had ever been and was
still to be with massacre, had not yet witnessed. On the 11th of August,
Coligny had written thus hopefully of his movements towards the
Netherlands, sanctioned and aided by his King. A fortnight from that day
occurred the "Paris-wedding;" and the Admiral, with thousands of his
religious confederates, invited to confidence by superhuman treachery,
and lulled into security by the music of august marriage bells, was
suddenly butchered in the streets of Paris by royal and noble hands.

The Prince proceeded on his march, during which the heavy news had been
brought to him, but he felt convinced that, with the very arrival of the
awful tidings, the fate of that campaign was sealed, and the fall of Mons
inevitable. In his own language, he had been struck to the earth "with
the blow of a sledge-hammer,"--nor did the enemy draw a different augury
from the great event.

The crime was not committed with the connivance of the Spanish
government. On the contrary, the two courts were at the moment bitterly
hostile to eac