A mutiny broke out among the English troops.

Many deserted to Parma, some escaped to England, and it was not until Morgan had beheaded Captain Lee and Captain Powell, that discipline could be restored.
And into this scene of wild and deafening confusion came Philip de Marnix, Lord of Sainte Aldegonde.
There were few more brilliant characters than he in all Christendom.

He was a man, of a most rare and versatile genius.

Educated in Geneva at the very feet of Calvin, he had drunk, like mother's milk, the strong and bitter waters of the stern reformer's, creed; but he had in after life attempted, although hardly with success, to lift himself to the height of a general religious toleration.

He had also been trained in the severe and thorough literary culture which characterised that rigid school.