Then he began that brilliant series of victories over Mayenne that commenced at Arques. Through a country already rallying to his national banner, he marched to Paris again. He struck terror into the Leaguers and Spanish inside, who were intriguing for the crown of France, which the great Bourbon was winning by his sword; and, after harrying St. Germains, he again marched on to attack Mayenne’s main army at Dreux. The Spanish Leaguers from Flanders were commanded by Egmont, the son of the man whom Alba had killed. His cavalry at first charged Henry’s infantry and broke it. Then the king himself, with his white plume for a guide, led his 2000 horsemen like a whirlwind against the Leaguers. Nothing could stand before them. The German mercenaries dropped their arms and fled, the Lorrainers and Egmont’s Walloons were swept away by the irresistible avalanche, and the battle of Ivry was won (March 14, 1590). Then without a pause Paris found itself again encircled with the victorious troops of the Béarnais. The sufferings of the rebel city and the events of the struggle cannot be recounted here. Philip’s far-off share in them alone concerns us for the moment. It is said by those who were near Philip at the time, that the news of Mayenne’s rout at Ivry was not entirely displeasing to him. It had been evident to the Spaniards for some time that Mayenne would take the first opportunity of causing himself to be proclaimed king in Paris. Mendoza and Moreo, the Spanish agents in Paris, were already sounding notes of alarm about him in their letters to the king, and Philip must have known, now he had lost Ivry, that, come what might, Mayenne’s chance had gone. It had become certain that, if Henry IV. was to be beaten at all, it must be by an experienced warrior like Alexander Farnese with great national forces, that France indeed must be conquered before Philip could be called its king. The alternative, however, seemed to be a Protestant rival nation on his frontier, and an entire alteration of the balance of Europe, in which he would be left isolated and impotent; and he must fight to the death to prevent that. Farnese had lost much of his popularity since the Armada, and he fretted at the fact. He knew that doubts wore whispered to his uncle, not only of his loyalty, but even of his orthodoxy; and, although Philip expressed himself as being quite satisfied with his explanations about the Armada, Farnese feared that his constant ill-health foreboded death by poison. He was weary, too, with the petty war of treachery, surprises, and skirmishes which still continued between him and the Dutchmen under William the Silent’s son, Maurice. It was like new life to him when at last he got the stirring news from Philip that he was to conquer France for the Church and for the House of Spain. But for the Salic law, the Infanta would undoubtedly have been the heiress to the crown, and Philip made light of the Salic law, and boldly asserted his daughter’s right.