“Sa Majesté ne résout rien; du moins, on me tient ignorant de ses intentions. Je pousse des cris, mais en vain. Il est clair qu’on nous laisse ici pour y languir jusqu’à notre dernier soupir.”
Don Juan to Mendoza, September 16th, 1578, from “The Camp” outside Namur.
“Nos vies sont en jeu et tout que nous demandons, c’est de les perdre avec honneur.”
Don Juan to Philip II., September 20th, 1578, from “The Camp” outside Namur.
The Imperial Army, composed of Germans, Walloons and Spanish regiments, was encamped outside Namur, at the juncture of the Sambre and Meuse, where Charles V. had been entrenched when pressed by the forces of Henri II.
The Commander of the Army was the son of Charles V., Don Juan of Austria, the hero of Christendom armed against the infidel, the victor of Lepanto, the conqueror of Tunis, blessed by the Pope, a brilliant name in Europe, half-brother of the great King Philip and son of a servant girl, near the throne, of the blood royal, but barred for ever from it, a prince yet linked with peasants; he had blazed very brightly over Europe, the King had flattered him, had caressed him and used him.
By the King’s favour he had swept over Italy, Sicily, Africa, a conqueror, almost within touch of a throne; by the King’s favour he had been sent to crush the rebel heretics who were rising against the might of Spain in the Low Countries.
And now the King was silent; it seemed as if he meant to abandon Don Juan. Antonio Perez was always at the King’s ear, and he hated Don Juan; Escovedo, the Prince’s Secretary and favourite, was assassinated in the streets of Madrid by order of Perez.
When Don Juan heard this news he thought that there was no better end preparing for him and that Perez meant his ruin; the King did not answer his letters, and his glory broke like a bubble.
He had been too great, too beloved, too popular; Philip tolerated no rivals.