umn, and again advanced. Their foes, arrayed,
as the witnesses affirmed, in a square and closely serried grove of
spears' and muskets, again awaited the attack. Once more the aerial
cohorts closed upon each other, all the signs and sounds of a desperate
encounter being distinctly recognised by the eager witnesses. The
struggle seemed but short. The lances of the south-eastern army seemed to
snap "like hemp-stalks," while their firm columns all went down together
in mass, beneath the onset of their enemies. The overthrow was complete,
victors and vanquished had faded, the clear blue space, surrounded by
black clouds, was empty, when suddenly its whole extent, where the
conflict had so lately raged, was streaked with blood, flowing athwart
the sky in broad crimson streams; nor was it till the five witnesses had
fully watched and pondered over these portents that the vision entirely
vanished.

So impressed were the grave magistrates of Utrecht with the account given
next day by the sentinels, that a formal examination of the circumstances
was made, the deposition of each witness, under oath, duly recorded, and
a vast deal of consultation of soothsayers' books and other auguries
employed to elucidate the mystery. It was universally considered typical
of the anticipated battle between Count Louis and the Spaniards. When,
therefore, it was known that the patriots, moving from the south-east,
had arrived at Mookerheyde, and that their adversaries, crossing the
Meuse at Grave, had advanced upon them from the north-west, the result of
the battle was considered inevitable; the phantom battle of Utrecht its
infallible precursor.

Thus perished Louis of Nassau in the flower of his manhood, in the midst
of a career already crowded with events such as might suffice for a
century of ordinary existence. It is difficult to find in history a more
frank and loyal character. His life was noble; the elements of the heroic
and the genial so mixed in him that the imagination contemplates him,
after three centuries, with an almost affectionate interest. He was not a
great man. He was far from possessing the subtle genius or the expansive
views of his brother; but, called as he was to play a prominent part in
one of the most complicated and imposing dramas ever enacted by man, he,
nevertheless, always acquitted himself with honor. His direct, fearless
and energetic nature commanded alike the respect of friend and foe. As a
politician, a soldie