Rotterdam, utterly prostrate in body, and with mind agitated nearly to
delirium, by the perpetual and almost unassisted schemes which he was
constructing. Relief, not only for Leyden, but for the whole country,
now apparently sinking into the abyss, was the vision which he pursued as
he tossed upon his restless couch. Never was illness more unseasonable.
His attendants were in despair, for it was necessary that his mind should
for a time be spared the agitation of business. The physicians who
attended him agreed, as to his disorder, only in this, that it was the
result of mental fatigue and melancholy, and could be cured only by
removing all distressing and perplexing subjects from his thoughts, but
all the physicians in the world could not have succeeded in turning his
attention for an instant from the great cause of his country. Leyden
lay, as it were, anxious and despairing at his feet, and it was
impossible for him to close his ears to her cry. Therefore, from his
sick bed he continued to dictate; words of counsel and encouragement to
the city; to Admiral Boisot, commanding, the fleet, minute directions and
precautions. Towards the end of August a vague report had found its way
into his sick chamber that Leyden had fallen, and although he refused to
credit the tale, yet it served to harass his mind, and to heighten fever.
Cornelius Van Mierop, Receiver General of Holland, had occasion to visit
him at Rotterdam, and strange to relate, found the house almost deserted.
Penetrating, unattended, to the Prince's bed-chamber, he found him lying
quite alone. Inquiring what had become, of all his attendants, he was
answered by the Prince, in a very feeble voice, that he had sent them all
away. The Receiver-General seems, from this, to have rather hastily
arrived at the conclusion that the Prince's disorder was the pest, and
that his servants and friends had all deserted him from cowardice.
This was very far from being the case. His private secretary and his
maitre d'hotel watched, day and night, by his couch, and the best
physicians of the city were in constant attendance. By a singular
accident; all had been despatched on different errands, at the express
desire of their master, but there had never been a suspicion that his
disorder was the pest, or pestilential. Nerves of steel, and a frame of
adamant could alone have resisted the constant anxiety and the consuming
fatigue to which he had so long been exposed. His illness had been
aggravated by the, rumor of Leyden's fall, a fiction which Cornelius
Mierop was now enabled flatly to contradict. The Prince began to mend
from that hour. By the end of the first week of September, he wrote
along letter to his brother, assuring him of his convalescence, and
expressing, as usual; a calm confidence in the divine decrees--"God will
ordain for me," said he, "all which is necessary for my good and my
salvation. He will load me with no more afflictions than the fragility
of this nature can sustain."
The preparations for the relief of Leyden, which, notwithstanding his
exertions, had grown slack during his sickness, were now vigorously
resumed. On the 1st of September, Admiral Boisot arrived out of Zealand
with a small number of vessels, and with eight hundred veteran sailors.
A wild and ferocious crew were those eight hundred Zealanders. Scarred,
hacked, and even maimed, in the unceasing conflicts in which their lives
had passed; wearing crescents in their caps, with the inscription,
"Rather Turkish than Popish;" renowned far and wide, as much for their
ferocity as for their nautical skill; the appearance of these wildest of
the "Sea-beggars" was both eccentric and terrific. They were known never
to give nor to take quarter, for they went to mortal combat only, and had
sworn to spare neither noble nor simple, neither king, kaiser, nor pope,
should they fall into their power.
More than two hundred-vessels had been assembled, carrying generally ten
pieces of cannon, with from ten to eighteen oars, and manned with twenty-
five hundred veterans, experienced both on land and water. The work was
now undertaken in earnest. The distance from Leyden to the outer dyke,
over whose ruins the ocean had already been admitted, was nearly fifteen
miles. This reclaimed territory, however, was not maintained against the
sea by these external barriers alone. The flotilla made its way with
ease to the Land-Scheiding, a strong dyke within five miles of Leyden,
but here its progress was arrested. The approach to the city was
surrounded by many strong ramparts, one within the other, by which it was
defended against its ancient enemy, the ocean, precisely like the
circumvallations by means of which it was now assailed by its more recent
enemy, the Spaniard. To enable the fleet, however, to sail over the
land; it was necessary to break through this two fold series of defences.
Between the Land-Scheiding and Leyden were several dykes, which kept out
the water; upon the level, were many villages, together with a chain of
sixty-two forts, which completely occupied the land. All these Villages
and fortresses were held by the veteran, troops of the King; the
besieging force, being about four times as strong as that which was
coming to the rescue.
The Prince had given orders that the Land-Scheiding, which was still one-
and-a-half foot above water, should be taken possession of; at every
hazard. On the night of the 10th and 11th of September this was
accomplished; by surprise; and in a masterly manner. The few Spaniards
who had been stationed upon the dyke were all, despatched or driven off,
and the patriots fortified themselves upon it, without the loss of a man.
As the day dawned the Spaniards saw the fatal error which they had
committed in leaving thus bulwark so feebly defended, and from two
villages which stood close to the dyke, the troops now rushed
inconsiderable force to recover what they had lost. A hot action
succeeded, but the patriots had too securely established themselves.
They completely defeated the enemy, who retired, leaving hundreds of
dead on the field, and the patriots in complete possession of the Land-
scheiding. This first action was sanguinary and desperate. It gave a
earnest of what these people, who came to relieve; their brethren, by
sacrificing their, property and their lives; were determined to effect.
It gave a revolting proof, too, of the intense hatred which nerved their
arms. A Zealander; having struck down a Spaniard on the dyke, knelt on
his bleeding enemy, tore his heart from his bosom; fastened his teeth in
it for an instant, and then threw it to a dog, with the exclamation,
"'Tis too bitter." The Spanish heart was, however, rescued, and kept for
years, with the marks of the soldier's teeth upon it, a sad testimonial
of the ferocity engendered by this war for national existence.
The great dyke having been thus occupied, no time was lost in breaking it
through in several places, a work which was accomplished under the very
eyes of the enemy. The fleet sailed through the gaps, but, after their
passage had been effected in good order, the Admiral found, to his
surprise, that it was not the only rampart to be carried. The Prince had
been informed, by those who claimed to know, the country, that, when once
the Land-scheiding had been passed, the water would flood the country.
as far as Leyden, but the "Green-way," another long dyke three-quarters
of a mile farther inward, now rose at least a foot above the water, to
oppose their further progress. Fortunately, by, a second and still more
culpable carelessness, this dyke had been left by the Spaniards in as
unprotected a state as the first had been, Promptly and audaciously
Admiral Boisot took possession of this barrier also, levelled it in many
places, and brought his flotilla, in triumph, over its ruins. Again,
however, he was doomed to disappointment. A large mere, called the
Freshwater Lake, was known to extend itself directly in his path about
midway between the Land-scheiding and the city. To this piece of water,
into which he expected to have instantly floated, his only passage lay
through one deep canal. The sea which had thus far borne him on, now
diffusing itself over a very wide surface, and under the influence of an
adverse wind, had become too shallow for his ships. The canal alone was
deep enough, but it led directly towards a bridge, strongly occupied by
the enemy. Hostile troops, moreover, to the amount of three thousand
occupied both sides of the canal. The bold Boisot, nevertheless,
determined to force his passage, if possible. Selecting a few of his
strongest vessels, his heaviest artillery, and his bravest sailors, he
led the van himself, in a desperate attempt to make his way to the mere.
He opened a hot fire upon the bridge, then converted into a fortress,
while his men engaged in hand-to-hand combat with a succession of
skirmishers from the troops along the canal. After losing a few men,
and ascertaining the impregnable position of the enemy, he was obliged
to withdraw, defeated, and almost despairing.
A week had elapsed since the great dyke had been pierced, and the
flotilla now lay motionless--in shallow water, having accomplished less
than two miles. The wind, too, was easterly, causing the sea rather to
sink than to rise. Everything wore a gloomy aspect, when, fortunately,
on the 18th, the wind shifted to the north-west, and for three days blew
a gale. The waters rose rapidly, and before the second day was closed
the armada was afloat again. Some fugitives from Zoetermeer village now
arrived, and informed the Admiral that, by making a detour to the right,
he could completely circumvent the bridge and the mere. They guided him,
accordingly, to a comparatively low dyke, which led between the villages
of Zoetermeer and Benthuyzen: A strong force of Spaniards was stationed
in each place, but, seized with a panic, instead of sallying to defend
the barrier, they fled inwardly towards Leyden, and halted at the village
of North Aa. It was natural that they should be amazed. Nothing is more
appalling to the imagination than the rising ocean tide, when man feels
himself within its power; and here were the waters, hourly deepening and
closing around them, devouring the earth beneath their feet, while on the
waves rode a flotilla, manned by a determined race; whose courage and
ferocity were known throughout the world. The Spanish soldiers, brave as
they were on land, were not sailors, and in the naval contests which had
taken place between them and the Hollanders had been almost invariably
defeated. It was not surprising, in these amphibious skirmishes, where
discipline was of little avail, and habitual audacity faltered at the
vague dangers which encompassed them, that the foreign troops should lose
their presence of mind.
Three barriers, one within the other, had now been passed, and the
flotilla, advancing with the advancing waves, and driving the enemy
steadily before it, was drawing nearer to the beleaguered city. As one
circle after another was passed, the besieging army found itself
compressed within a constantly contracting field. The "Ark of Delft," an
enormous vessel, with shot-proof bulwarks, and moved by paddle-wheels
turned by a crank, now arrived at Zoetermeer, and was soon followed by
the whole fleet. After a brief delay, sufficient to allow the few
remaining villagers to escape, both Zoetermeer and Benthuyzen, with the
fortifications, were set on fire, and abandoned to their fate. The blaze
lighted up the desolate and watery waste around, and was seen at Leyden,
where it was hailed as the beacon of hope. Without further impediment,
the armada proceeded to North Aa; the enemy retreating from this position
also, and flying to Zoeterwoude, a strongly fortified village but a mile
and three quarters from the city walls. It was now swarming with troops,
for the bulk of the besieging army had gradually been driven into a
narrow circle of forts, within the immediate neighbourhood of Leyden.
Besides Zoeterwoude, the two posts where they were principally
established were Lammen and Leyderdorp, each within three hundred rods of
the town. At Leyderdorp were the head-quarters of Valdez; Colonel Borgia
commanded in the very strong fortress of Lammen.
The fleet was, however, delayed at North Aa by another barrier, called
the "Kirk-way." The waters, too, spreading once more over a wider space,
and diminishing under an east wind, which had again arisen, no longer
permitted their progress, so that very soon the whole armada was stranded
anew. The, waters fell to the depth of nine inches; while the vessels
required eighteen and twenty. Day after day the fleet lay motionless
upon. the shallow sea. Orange, rising from his sick bed as soon as he
could stand, now came on board the fleet. His presence diffused
universal joy; his words inspired his desponding army with fresh hope.
He rebuked the impatient spirits who, weary of their compulsory idleness,
had shown symptoms of ill-timed ferocity, and those eight hundred mad
Zealanders, so frantic in their hatred to the foreigners, who had so long
profaned their land, were as docile as children to the Prince. He
reconnoitred the whole ground, and issued orders for the immediate
destruction of the Kirkway, the last important barrier which separated
the fleet from Leyden. Then, after a long conference with Admiral
Boisot, he returned to Delft.
Meantime, the besieged city was at its last gasp. The burghers had been
in a state of uncertainty for many days; being aware that the fleet had
set forth for their relief, but knowing full well the thousand obstacles
which it, had to surmount. They had guessed its progress by the
illumination from, the blazing villages; they had heard its salvos of
artillery, on its arrival at North Aa; but since then, all had been dark
and mournful again, hope and fear, in sickening alternation, distracting
every breast. They knew that the wind was unfavorable, and at the dawn
of each day every eye was turned wistfully to the vanes of the, steeples.
So long as the easterly breeze prevailed, they felt, as they anxiously
stood on towers and housetops; that they must look in vain for the
welcome ocean. Yet, while thus patiently waiting, they were literally
starving; for even the misery endured at Harlem had not reached that
depth and intensity of agony to which Leyden was now reduced. Bread,
malt-cake, horseflesh, had entirely disappeared; dogs, cats, rats, and
other vermin, were esteemed luxuries: A small number of cows, kept as
long as possible, for their milk, still remained; but a few were killed
from day to day; and distributed in minute proportions, hardly sufficient
to support life among the famishing population. Starving wretches
swarmed daily around the shambles where these cattle were slaughtered,
contending for any morsel which might fall, and lapping eagerly the blood
as it ran along the pavement; while the hides; chopped and boiled, were
greedily devoured. Women and children, all day long, were seen searching
gutters and dunghills for morsels of food, which they disputed fiercely
with the famishing dogs. The green leaves were stripped from the trees,
every living herb was converted into human food, but these expedients
could not avert starvation. The daily mortality was frightful infants
starved to death on the maternal breasts, which famine had parched and
withered; mothers dropped dead in the streets, with their dead children
in their arms. In many a house the watchmen, in their rounds, found a
whole family of corpses, father, mother, and children, side by side, for
a disorder called the plague, naturally engendered of hardship and
famine, now came, as if in kindness, to abridge the agony of the people.
The pestilence stalked at noonday through the city, and the doomed
inhabitants fell like grass beneath its scythe. From six thousand to
eight thousand human beings sank before this scourge alone, yet the
people resolutely held out--women and men mutually encouraging each other
to resist the entrance of their foreign foe--an evil more horrible than
pest or famine.
The missives from Valdez, who saw more vividly than the besieged could
do, the uncertainty of his own position, now poured daily into the city,
the enemy becoming more prodigal of his vows, as he felt that the ocean
might yet save the victims from his grasp. The inhabitants, in their
ignorance, had gradually abandoned their hopes of relief, but they
spurned the summons to surrender. Leyden was sublime in its despair. A
few murmurs were, however, occasionally heard at the steadfastness of the
magistrates, and a dead body was placed at the door of the burgomaster,
as a silent witness against his inflexibility. A party of the more
faint-hearted even assailed the heroic Adrian Van der Werf with threats
and reproaches as he passed through the streets. A crowd had gathered
around him, as he reached a triangular place in the centre of the town,
into which many of the principal streets emptied themselves, and upon one
side of which stood the church of Saint Pancras, with its high brick
tower surmounted by two pointed turrets, and with two ancient lime trees
at its entrance. There stood the burgomaster, a tall, haggard, imposing
figure, with dark visage, and a tranquil but commanding eye. He waved
his broadleaved felt hat for silence, and then exclaimed, in language
which has been almost literally preserved, What would ye, my friends?
Why do ye murmur that we do not break our vows and surrender the city to
the Spaniards? a fate more horrible than the agony which she now endures.
I tell you I have made an oath to hold the city, and may God give me
strength to keep my oath! I can die but once; whether by your hands, the
enemy's, or by the hand of God. My own fate is indifferent to me, not so
that of the city intrusted to my care. I know that we shall starve if
not soon relieved; but starvation is preferable to the dishonored death
which is the only alternative. Your menaces move me not; my life is at
your disposal; here is my sword, plunge it into my breast, and divide my
flesh among you. Take my body to appease your hunger, but expect no
surrender, so long as I remain alive.
The words of the stout burgomaster inspired a new courage in the hearts
of those who heard him, and a shout of applause and defiance arose from
the famishing but enthusiastic crowd. They left the place, after
exchanging new vows of fidelity with their magistrate, and again ascended
tower and battlement to watch for the coming fleet. From the ramparts
they hurled renewed defiance at the enemy. "Ye call us rat-eaters and
dog-eaters," they cried, "and it is true. So long, then, as ye hear dog
bark or cat mew within the walls, ye may know that the city holds out.
And when all has perished but ourselves, be sure that we will each devour
our left arms, retaining our right to defend our women, our liberty, and
our religion, against the foreign tyrant. Should God, in his wrath, doom
us to destruction, and deny us all relief, even then will we maintain
ourselves for ever against your entrance. When the last hour has come,
with our own hands we will set fire to the city and perish, men, women,
and children together in the flames, rather than suffer our homes to be
polluted and our liberties to be crushed." Such words of defiance,
thundered daily from the battlements, sufficiently informed Valdez as to
his chance of conquering the city, either by force or fraud, but at the
same time, he felt comparatively relieved by the inactivity of Boisot's
fleet, which still lay stranded at North Aa. "As well," shouted the
Spaniards, derisively, to the citizens, "as well can the Prince of Orange
pluck the stars from the sky as bring the ocean to the walls of Leyden
for your relief."
On the 28th of September, a dove flew into the city, bringing a letter
from Admiral Boisot. In this despatch, the position of the fleet at
North Aa was described in encouraging terms, and the inhabitants were
assured that, in a very few days at furthest, the long-expected relief
would enter their gates. The letter was read publicly upon the market-
place, and the bells were rung for joy. Nevertheless, on the morrow, the
vanes pointed to the east, the waters, so far from rising, continued to
sink, and Admiral Boisot was almost in despair. He wrote to the Prince,
that if the spring-tide, now to be expected, should not, together with a
strong and favorable wind, come immediately to their relief, it would be
in pain to attempt anything further, and that the expedition would, of
necessity, be abandoned. The tempest came to their relief. A violent
equinoctial gale, on the night of the 1st and 2nd of October, came
storming from the north-west, shifting after a few hours full eight
points, and then blowing still more violently from the south-west. The
waters of the North Sea were piled in vast masses upon the southern coast
of Holland, and then dashed furiously landward, the ocean rising over the
earth, and sweeping with unrestrained power across the ruined dykes.
In the course of twenty-four hours, the fleet at North Aa, instead of
nine inches, had more than two feet of water. No time was lost. The
Kirk-way, which had been broken through according to the Prince's
instructions, was now completely overflowed, and the fleet sailed at
midnight, in the midst of the storm and darkness. A few sentinel vessels
of the enemy challenged them as they steadily rowed towards Zoeterwoude.
The answer was a flash from Boisot's cannon; lighting up the black waste
of waters. There was a fierce naval midnight battle; a strange spectacle
among the branches of those quiet orchards, and with the chimney stacks
of half-submerged farmhouses rising around the contending vessels.
The neighboring village of Zoeterwoude shook with the discharges of the
Zealanders' cannon, and the Spaniards assembled in that fortress knew
that the rebel Admiral was at last, afloat and on his course. The
enemy's vessels were soon sunk, their crews hurled into the waves.
On went the fleet, sweeping over the broad waters which lay between
Zoeterwoude and Zwieten. As they approached some shallows, which led
into the great mere, the Zealanders dashed into the sea, and with sheer
strength shouldered every vessel through. Two obstacles lay still in
their path--the forts of Zoeterwoude and Lammen, distant from the city
five hundred and two hundred and fifty yards respectively. Strong
redoubts, both well supplied with troops and artillery, they were likely
to give a rough reception to the light flotilla, but the panic; which had
hitherto driven their foes before the advancing patriots; had reached
Zoeterwoude. Hardly was the fleet in sight when the Spaniards in the
early morning, poured out from the fortress, and fled precipitately to
the left, along a road which led in a westerly direction towards the
Hague. Their narrow path was rapidly vanishing in the waves, and
hundreds sank beneath the constantly deepening and treacherous flood.
The wild Zealanders, too, sprang from their vessels upon the crumbling
dyke and drove their retreating foes into the sea. They hurled their
harpoons at them, with an accuracy acquired in many a polar chase; they
plunged into the waves in the keen pursuit, attacking them with boat-hook
and dagger. The numbers who thus fell beneath these corsairs, who
neither gave nor took quarter, were never counted, but probably not less
than a thousand perished. The rest effected their escape to the Hague.