And so another proof was added--if proofs were still necessary of Spanish
prowess. The Netherlanders may be pardoned if their foes seemed to them
supernatural, and almost invulnerable. How else could these enormous
successes be accounted for? How else could thousands fall before the
Spanish swords, while hardly a single Spanish corpse told of effectual
resistance? At Jemmingen, Alva had lost seven soldiers, and slain seven
thousand; in the Antwerp Fury, two hundred Spaniards, at most, had
fallen, while eight thousand burghers and states' troops had been
butchered; and now at Gemblours, six, seven, eight, ten--Heaven knew how
many--thousand had been exterminated, and hardly a single Spaniard had
been slain! Undoubtedly, the first reason for this result was the
superiority of the Spanish soldiers. They were the boldest, the best
disciplined, the most experienced in the world. Their audacity,
promptness, and ferocity made them almost invincible. In this particular
action, at least half the army of Don John was composed of Spanish or
Spanish-Italian veterans. Moreover, they were commanded by the most
renowned captains of the age--by Don John himself, and Alexander of
Parma, sustained by such veterans as Mondragon, the hero of the memorable
submarine expeditions; Mendoza, the accomplished cavalry officer,
diplomatist, and historian; and Mansfeld, of whom Don John had himself
written to the King that his Majesty had not another officer of such
account in all the Netherlands. Such officers as these, besides Gonzaga,
Camillo Monte, Mucio Pagano, at the head of such troops as fought that
day under the banner of the Cross, might go far in accounting for this
last and most tremendous victory of the Inquisition. On the other hand,
although Bossu and Champagny were with the states' army, yet their hearts
were hardly with the cause. Both had long been loyal, and had earned
many laurels against the rebels, while Champagny was still devoutly a
Papist, and wavered painfully between his hatred to heresy and to Spain.