and the edicts, had never cried woe upon the Pharisees. Yet there is no
doubt that the Emperor was at times almost popular in the Netherlands,
and that he was never as odious as his successor. There were some deep
reasons for this, and some superficial ones; among others, a singularly
fortunate manner. He spoke German, Spanish, Italian, French, and
Flemish, and could assume the characteristics of each country as easily
as he could use its language. He could be stately with Spaniards,
familiar with Flemings witty with Italians. He could strike down a bull
in the ring like a matador at Madrid, or win the prize in the tourney
like a knight of old; he could ride at the ring with the Flemish nobles,
hit the popinjay with his crossbow among Antwerp artisans, or drink beer
and exchange rude jests with the boors of Brabant. For virtues such as
these, his grave crimes against God and man, against religion and
chartered and solemnly-sworn rights have been palliated, as if oppression
became more tolerable because the oppressor was an accomplished linguist
and a good marksman.

But the great reason for his popularity no doubt lay in his military
genius. Charles was inferior to no general of his age. "When he was
born into the world," said Alva, "he was born a soldier," and the Emperor
confirmed the statement and reciprocated the compliment, when he declared
that "the three first captains of the age were himself first, and then
the Duke of Alva and Constable Montmorency." It is quite true that all
his officers were not of the same opinion, and many were too apt to
complain that his constant presence in the field did more harm than good,
and "that his Majesty would do much better to stay at home." There is,
however, no doubt that he was both a good soldier and a good general.
He was constitutionally fearless, and he possessed great energy and
endurance. He was ever the first to arm when a battle was to be fought,
and the last to take off his harness. He commanded in person and in