old Mondragon. That hero, who had done much of the hardest work, and had
fought in most of the battles of the century, was nearly as old as the
century. Being now turned of ninety, he thought best to keep house in
Antwerp Castle: Accordingly twelve thousand foot and three thousand horse
took the field under the more youthful Peter Ernest? But Peter Ernest,
when his son was not there to superintend his operations, was nothing
but a testy octogenarian, while the two together were not equal to the
little finger of Farnese, whom Philip would have displaced, had he not
fortunately died.

"Nothing is to be expected out of this place but toads and poison,"
wrote Ybarra in infinite disgust to the two secretaries of state at
Madrid. "I have done my best to induce Fuentes to accept that which the
patent secured him, and Count Peter is complaining that Fuentes showed
him the patent so late only to play him a trick. There is a rascally
pack of meddlers here, and the worst of them all are the women, whom I
particularly give to the devil. There is no end to the squabbles as to
who shall take the lead in relieving Gertruydenberg."

Mansfeld at last came ponderously up in the neighbourhood of Turnhout.
There was a brilliant little skirmish, in the, neighbourhood of this
place, in which a hundred and fifty Dutch cavalry under the famous
brothers Bax defeated four hundred picked lancers of Spain and Italy.
But Mansfeld could get nothing but skirmishes. In vain he plunged
about among the caltrops and man-traps. In vain he knocked at the
fortifications of Hohenlo on the east and of Maurice on the west.
He found them impracticable, impregnable, obdurate. It was Maurice's
intention to take his town at as small sacrifice of life as possible.
A trumpet was sent on some trifling business to Mansfeld, in reply to
a communication made by the general to Maurice.