It must be confessed that, given Alençon’s turbulent character, there were circumstances which fully justified the suspicions of Henry III. against his brother. The “Spanish fury” in Antwerp in 1576 had turned even the Walloons and Catholic Flemings against Philip’s rule, and they had made common cause with Orange’s Protestants in the North. It was seen then that all the arms of Spain would be powerless to subdue them; and, hardly pressed as Philip was, he was forced to send his brother Don John on a mission of pacification at all costs. But Don John was a soldier, and it cut him to the heart, as he said, to bend the knee and make terms “with these drunken wineskins of Flemings”; so after swearing the perpetual edict of pacification, he resented the continued exigencies of the States, treacherously seized the citadel of Namur, summoned troops from Italy and elsewhere, and bade the “rebels” do their worst. In order to sow dissension between the two branches of the house of Austria, the Walloon nobles had brought to Flanders as their governor the young Archduke Mathias as an avowed rival of the Protestant Orange. He was a poor creature, but the great Taciturn patriotically persuaded his followers to recognise him as their chief, he, Orange, being his lieutenant. This, after some turmoil and bloodshed, they did, and it was in his name that the hastily gathered levies of the States went out to attack Don John who had betrayed them. The victor of Lepanto with his few veterans met them on the last day of January, 1578, and completely defeated them, and the insurgent Flemings once more were at the mercy of the cruel Spanish soldiery, who were speeding back again from Italy eager to shed the blood again of the brave burghers who only a few months before had insisted upon their withdrawal. Mathias was a broken reed--he had no money, no followers, no influence, and no prestige, so the Flemings were fain to look elsewhere for help. Elizabeth had aided the Protestant Hollanders bravely, but the Catholic Flemings did not wish to be merged in and governed by the Dutch States, and had to seek help from a Catholic prince. Conciliation they had tried, and they had been betrayed. A prince of the house of Austria had been chosen, and had turned out useless. Where, then, could they look but to a prince of France, unfettered by Spanish sympathies? So Alençon was approached, and expressed his willingness to raise his friends, the moderate Catholics and the Huguenots to aid the Flemings in their resistance. This, of course, was known to Catharine and Henry III., and as such an action on the part of Alençon might have involved France in a war with Spain, there was no doubt good ground for the Duke’s belief that his brother intended to put him out of harm’s way by quietly shutting him up in the Bastille to keep company with his faithful friends who were there already.