He had already become so thoroughly Hispaniolized under the masterly treatment of the King and the Jesuits, that even his face had lost all resemblance to the type of his heroic family, and had acquired a sinister, gloomy, forbidding expression, most painful to contemplate.

All of good that he had retained was a reverence for his father's name--a sentiment which he had manifested to an extravagant extent on a memorable occasion in Madrid, by throwing out of window, and killing on the spot a Spanish officer who had dared to mention the great Prince with insult.
The next son was Maurice, then seventeen years of age, a handsome youth, with dark blue eyes, well-chiselled features, and full red lips, who had already manifested a courage and concentration of character beyond his years.

The son of William the Silent, the grandson of Maurice of Saxony, whom he resembled in visage and character, he was summoned by every drop of blood in his veins to do life-long battle with the spirit of Spanish absolutism, and he was already girding himself for his life's work.

He assumed at once for his device a fallen oak, with a young sapling springing from its root.

His motto, "Tandem fit surculus arbor," "the twig shall yet become a tree"-- was to be nobly justified by his career.
The remaining son, then a six months' child, was also destined to high fortunes, and to win an enduring name in his country's history.