First siege of Leyden--Commencement of the second--Description of
the city--Preparations for defence--Letters of Orange--Act of
amnesty issued by Requesens--Its conditions--Its reception by the
Hollanders--Correspondence of the Glippers--Sorties and fierce
combats beneath the walls of Leyden--Position of the Prince--His
project of relief Magnanimity of the people--Breaking of the dykes--
Emotions in the city and the besieging camp--Letter of the Estates
of Holland--Dangerous illness of the Prince--The "wild Zealanders"--
Admiral Boisot commences his voyage--Sanguinary combat on the Land--
Scheiding--Occupation of that dyke and of the Green Way--Pauses and
Progress of the flotilla--The Prince visits the fleet--Horrible
sufferings in the city--Speech of Van der Werf--Heroism of the
inhabitants--The Admiral's letters--The storm--Advance of Boisot--
Lammen fortress----An anxious night--Midnight retreat of the
Spaniards--The Admiral enters the city--Thanksgiving in the great
church The Prince in Leyden--Parting words of Valdez--Mutiny--Leyden
University founded--The charter--Inauguration ceremonies.
The invasion of Louis of Nassau had, as already stated, effected the
raising of the first siege of Leyden. That leaguer had lasted from the
31st of October, 1573, to the 21st of March, 1574, when the soldiers were
summoned away to defend the frontier. By an extraordinary and culpable
carelessness, the citizens, neglecting the advice of the Prince, had not
taken advantage of the breathing time thus afforded them to victual the
city and strengthen the garrison. They seemed to reckon more confidently
upon the success of Count Louis than he had even done himself; for it was
very probable that, in case of his defeat, the siege would be instantly
resumed. This natural result was not long in following the battle of
Mookerheyde.
On the 26th of May, Valdez reappeared before the place, at the head of
eight thousand Walloons and Germans, and Leyden was now destined to pass
through a fiery ordeal. This city was one of the most beautiful in the
Netherlands. Placed in the midst of broad and fruitful pastures, which
had been reclaimed by the hand of industry from the bottom of the sea; it
was fringed with smiling villages, blooming gardens, fruitful Orchards.
The ancient and, at last, decrepit Rhine, flowing languidly towards its
sandy death-bed, had been multiplied into innumerable artificial
currents, by which the city was completely interlaced. These watery
streets were shaded by lime trees, poplars, and willows, and crossed by
one hundred and forty-five bridges, mostly of hammered stone. The houses
were elegant, the squares and streets spacious, airy and clean, the
churches and public edifices imposing, while the whole aspect, of the
place suggested thrift, industry, and comfort. Upon an artificial
elevation, in the centre of the city, rose a ruined tower of unknown
antiquity. By some it was considered to be of Roman origin, while others
preferred to regard it as a work of the Anglo-Saxon Hengist, raised to
commemorate his conquest of England.
[Guicciardini, Descript. Holl, et Zelandire. Bor, vii. 502.
Bentivoglio, viii. 151
"Putatur Engistus Britanno
Orbe redus posuisse victor," etc., etc.
according to the celebrated poem of John Von der Does, the
accomplished and valiant Commandant of the city. The tower, which
is doubtless a Roman one, presents, at the present day, almost
precisely the same appearance as that described by the
contemporaneous historians of the siege. The verses of the
Commandant show the opinion, that the Anglo-Saxon conquerors of
Britain went from Holland, to have been a common one in the
sixteenth century.]
Surrounded by fruit trees, and overgrown in the centre with oaks, it
afforded, from its mouldering battlements, a charming prospect over a
wide expanse of level country, with the spires of neighbouring cities
rising in every direction. It was from this commanding height, during the
long and terrible summer days which were approaching, that many an eye
was to be strained anxiously seaward, watching if yet the ocean had begun
to roll over the land.
Valdez lost no time in securing himself in the possession of
Maeslandsluis, Vlaardingen, and the Hague. Five hundred English, under
command of Colonel Edward Chester, abandoned the fortress of Valkenburg,
and fled towards Leyden. Refused admittance by the citizens, who now,
with reason, distrusted them, they surrendered to Valdez, and were
afterwards sent back to England. In the course of a few days, Leyden was
thoroughly invested, no less than sixty-two redoubts, some of them having
remained undestroyed from the previous siege, now girdling the city,
while the besiegers already numbered nearly eight thousand, a force to be
daily increased. On the other hand, there were no troops in the town,
save a small corps of "freebooters," and five companies of the burgher
guard. John Van der Does, Seigneur of Nordwyck, a gentleman of
distinguished family, but still more distinguished for his learning, his
poetical genius, and his valor, had accepted the office of military
commandant.
The main reliance of the city, under God, was on the stout hearts of its
inhabitants within the walls, and on, the sleepless energy of William the
Silent without. The Prince, hastening to comfort and encourage the
citizens, although he had been justly irritated by their negligence in
having omitted to provide more sufficiently against the emergency while
there had yet been time, now reminded them that they were not about to
contend for themselves alone, but that the fate of their country and of
unborn generations would, in all human probability, depend on the issue
about to be tried. Eternal glory would be their portion if they
manifested a courage worthy of their race and of the sacred cause of
religion and liberty. He implored them to hold out at least three months,
assuring them that he would, within that time, devise the means of their
deliverance. The citizens responded, courageously and confidently, to
these missives, and assured the Prince of their firm confidence in their
own fortitude and his exertions.
And truly they had a right to rely on that calm and unflinching soul, as
on a rock of adamant. All alone, without a being near him to consult, his
right arm struck from him by the death of Louis, with no brother left to
him but the untiring and faithful John, he prepared without delay for the
new task imposed upon him. France, since the defeat and death of Louis,
and the busy intrigues which had followed the accession of Henry III.,
had but small sympathy for the Netherlands. The English government,
relieved from the fear of France; was more cold and haughty than ever. An
Englishman employed by Requesens to assassinate the Prince of Orange, had
been arrested in Zealand, who impudently pretended that he had undertaken
to perform the same office for Count John, with the full consent and
privity of Queen Elizabeth. The provinces of Holland and Zealand were
stanch and true, but the inequality of the contest between a few brave
men, upon that handsbreadth of territory, and the powerful Spanish
Empire, seemed to render the issue hopeless.
Moreover, it was now thought expedient to publish the amnesty which had
been so long in preparation, and this time the trap was more liberally
baited. The pardon, which had: passed the seals upon the 8th of March,
was formally issue: by the Grand Commander on the 6th of June. By the
terms of this document the King invited all his erring and repentant
subjects, to return to his arms; and to accept a full forgiveness for
their past offences, upon the sole condition that they should once more
throw themselves upon the bosom of the Mother Church. There were but few
exceptions to the amnesty, a small number of individuals, all mentioned
by name, being alone excluded; but although these terms were ample, the
act was liable to a few stern objections. It was easier now for the
Hollanders to go to their graves than to mass, for the contest, in its
progress, had now entirely assumed the aspect of a religious war. Instead
of a limited number of heretics in a state which, although constitutional
was Catholic, there was now hardly a Papist to be found among the
natives. To accept the pardon then was to concede the victory, and the
Hollanders had not yet discovered that they were conquered. They were
resolved, too, not only to be conquered, but annihilated, before the
Roman Church should be re-established on their soil, to the entire
exclusion of the Reformed worship. They responded with steadfast
enthusiasm to the sentiment expressed by the Prince of Orange, after the
second siege of Leyden had been commenced; "As long as there is a living
man left in the country, we will contend for our liberty and our
religion." The single condition of the amnesty assumed, in a phrase; what
Spain had fruitlessly striven to establish by a hundred battles, and the
Hollanders had not faced their enemy on land and sea for seven years to
succumb to a phrase at last.
Moreover, the pardon came from the wrong direction. The malefactor
gravely extended forgiveness to his victims. Although the Hollanders had
not yet disembarrassed their minds of the supernatural theory of
government, and felt still the reverence of habit for regal divinity,
they naturally considered themselves outraged by the trick now played
before them. The man who had violated all his oaths, trampled upon all
their constitutional liberties, burned and sacked their cities,
confiscated their wealth, hanged, beheaded, burned, and buried alive
their innocent brethren, now came forward, not to implore, but to offer
forgiveness. Not in sackcloth, but in royal robes; not with ashes, but
with a diadem upon his head, did the murderer present himself vicariously
upon the scene of his crimes. It may be supposed that, even in the
sixteenth century, there were many minds which would revolt at such
blasphemy. Furthermore, even had the people of Holland been weak enough
to accept the pardon, it was impossible to believe that the promise would
be fulfilled. It was sufficiently known how much faith was likely to be
kept with heretics, notwithstanding that the act was fortified by a papal
Bull, dated on the 30th of April, by which Gregory XIII. promised
forgiveness to those Netherland sinners who duly repented and sought
absolution for their crimes, even although they had sinned more than
seven times seven.
For a moment the Prince had feared lest the pardon might produce some
effect upon men wearied by interminable suffering, but the event proved
him wrong. It was received with universal and absolute contempt. No man
came forward to take advantage of its conditions, save one brewer in
Utrecht, and the son of a refugee peddler from Leyden. With these
exceptions, the only ones recorded, Holland remained deaf to the royal
voice. The city of Leyden was equally cold to the messages of mercy,
which were especially addressed to its population by Valdez and his
agents. Certain Netherlanders, belonging to the King's party, and
familiarly called "Glippers," despatched from the camp many letters to
their rebellious acquaintances in the city. In these epistles the
citizens of Leyden were urgently and even pathetically exhorted to
submission by their loyal brethren, and were implored "to take pity upon
their poor old fathers, their daughters, and their wives." But the
burghers of Leyden thought that the best pity which they could show to
those poor old fathers, daughters, and wives, was to keep them from the
clutches of the Spanish soldiery; so they made no answer to the Glippers,
save by this single line, which they wrote on a sheet of paper, and
forwarded, like a letter, to Valdez:
"Fistula dulce canit, volucrem cum decipit auceps."
According to the advice early given by the Prince of Orange, the citizens
had taken an account of their provisions of all kinds, including the live
stock. By the end of June, the city was placed on a strict allowance of
food, all the provisions being purchased by the authorities at an
equitable price. Half a pound of meat and half a pound of bread was
allotted to a full grown man, and to the rest, a due proportion. The city
being strictly invested, no communication, save by carrier pigeons, and
by a few swift and skilful messengers called jumpers, was possible.
Sorties and fierce combats were, however, of daily occurrence, and a
handsome bounty was offered to any man who brought into the city gates
the head of a Spaniard. The reward was paid many times, but the
population was becoming so excited and so apt, that the authorities felt
it dangerous to permit the continuance of these conflicts. Lest the city,
little by little, should lose its few disciplined defenders, it was now
proclaimed, by sound of church bell, that in future no man should leave
the gates.
The Prince had his head-quarters at Delft and at Rotterdam. Between those
two cities, an important fortress, called Polderwaert, secured him in the
control of the alluvial quadrangle, watered on two sides by the Yssel and
the Meuse. On the 29th June, the Spaniards, feeling its value, had made
an unsuccessful effort to carry this fort by storm. They had been beaten
off, with the loss of several hundred men, the Prince remaining in
possession of the position, from which alone he could hope to relieve
Leyden. He still held in his hand the keys with which he could unlock the
ocean gates and let the waters in upon the land, and he had long been
convinced that nothing could save the city but to break the dykes. Leyden
was not upon the sea, but he could send the sea to. Leyden, although an
army fit to encounter the besieging force under Valdez could not be
levied. The battle of Mookerheyde had, for the present, quite settled
the question, of land relief, but it was possible to besiege the
besiegers, with the waves of the ocean. The Spaniards occupied the coast
from the Hague to Vlaardingen, but the dykes along the Meuse and Yssel
were in possession of the Prince. He determined, that these should be
pierced, while, at the same time, the great sluices at Rotterdam,
Schiedam, and Delftshaven should be opened. The damage to the fields,
villages, and growing crops would be enormous, but he felt that no other
course could rescue Leyden, and with it the whole of Holland from
destruction. His clear expositions and impassioned eloquence at last
overcame all resistance. By the middle of July the estates consented to
his plan, and its execution was immediately undertaken. "Better a drowned
land than a lost land," cried the patriots, with enthusiasm, as they
devoted their fertile fields to desolation. The enterprise for restoring
their territory, for a season, to the waves, from which it had been so
patiently rescued, was conducted with as much regularity as if it had
been a profitable undertaking. A capital was formally subscribed, for
which a certain number of bonds were issued, payable at a long date. In
addition to this preliminary fund, a monthly allowance of forty-five
guldens was voted by the estates, until the work should be completed, and
a large sum was contributed by the ladies of the land, who freely
furnished their plate, jewellery, and costly furniture to the furtherance
of the scheme.
Meantime, Valdez, on the 30th July; issued most urgent and ample offers
of pardon to the citizens, if they would consent to open their gates and
accept the King's authority, but his Overtures were received with silent
contempt, notwithstanding that the population was already approaching the
starvation point. Although not yet fully informed of the active measures
taken by the Prince, yet they still chose to rely upon his energy and
their own fortitude, rather than upon the honied words which had formerly
been heard at the gates of Harlem and of Naarden. On the 3rd of August,
the Prince; accompanied by Paul Buys, chief of the commission appointed
to execute the enterprise, went in person along the Yssel; as far as
Kappelle, and superintended the rupture of the dykes in sixteen places.
The gates at Schiedam and Rotterdam were, opened, and the ocean began to
pour over the land. While waiting for the waters to rise, provisions were
rapidly, collected, according to an edict of the Prince, in all the
principal towns of the neighbourhood, and some two hundred vessels, of
various sizes, had also been got ready at Rotterdam, Delftshaven, and
other ports.
The citizens of Leyden were, however, already becoming impatient, for
their bread was gone, and of its substitute malt cake, they had but
slender provision. On the 12th of August they received a letter from the
Prince, encouraging them to resistance, and assuring them of a speedy
relief, and on the 21st they addressed a despatch to him in reply,
stating that they had now fulfilled their original promise, for they had
held out two months with food, and another month without food. If not
soon assisted, human strength could do no more; their malt cake would
last but four days, and after that was gone, there was nothing left but
starvation. Upon the same day, however, they received a letter, dictated
by the Prince, who now lay in bed at Rotterdam with a violent fever,
assuring them that the dykes were all pierced, and that the water was
rising upon the "Land-Scheiding," the great outer barrier which separated
the city from the sea. He said nothing however of his own illness, which
would have cast a deep shadow over the joy which now broke forth among
the burghers.
The letter was read publicly in the market-place, and to increase the
cheerfulness, burgomaster Van der Werf, knowing the sensibility of his
countrymen to music, ordered the city musicians to perambulate the
streets, playing lively melodies and martial airs. Salvos of cannon were
likewise fired, and the starving city for a brief space put on the aspect
of a holiday, much to the astonishment of the besieging forces, who were
not yet aware of the Prince's efforts. They perceived very soon, however,
as the water everywhere about Leyden had risen to the depth of ten
inches, that they stood in a perilous position. It was no trifling danger
to be thus attacked by the waves of the ocean, which seemed about to obey
with docility the command of William the Silent. Valdez became anxious
and uncomfortable at the strange aspect of affairs, for the besieging
army was now in its turn beleaguered, and by a stronger power than man's.
He consulted with the most experienced of his officers, with the country
people, with the most distinguished among the Glippers, and derived
encouragement from their views concerning the Prince's plan. They
pronounced it utterly futile and hopeless: The Glippers knew the country
well, and ridiculed the desperate project in unmeasured terms.
Even in the city itself, a dull distrust had succeeded to the first vivid
gleam of hope, while the few royalists among the population boldly
taunted their fellow-citizens to their faces with the absurd vision of
relief which they had so fondly welcomed. "Go up to the tower, ye
Beggars," was the frequent and taunting cry, "go up to the tower, and
tell us if ye can see the ocean coming over the dry land to your
relief"--and day after day they did go, up to the ancient tower of
Hengist, with heavy heart and anxious eye, watching, hoping, praying,
fearing, and at last almost despairing of relief by God or man. On the
27th they addressed a desponding letter to the estates, complaining that
the city had been forgotten in, its utmost need, and on the same day a
prompt and warm-hearted reply was received, in which the citizens were
assured that every human effort was to be made for their relief.
"Rather," said the estates, "will we see our whole land and all our
possessions perish in the waves, than forsake thee, Leyden. We know full
well, moreover, that with Leyden, all Holland must perish also." They
excused themselves for not having more frequently written, upon the
ground that the whole management of the measures for their relief had
been entrusted to the Prince, by whom alone all the details had been
administered, and all the correspondence conducted.
The fever of the Prince had, meanwhile, reached its height. He lay at
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.
The first fortress was thus seized, dismantled, set on fire, and passed,
and a few strokes of the oars brought the whole fleet close to Lammen.
This last obstacle rose formidable and frowning directly across their
path. Swarming as it was with soldiers, and bristling with artillery, it
seemed to defy the armada either to carry it by storm or to pass under
its guns into the city. It appeared that the enterprise was, after all,
to founder within sight of the long expecting and expected haven. Boisot
anchored his fleet within a respectful distance, and spent what remained
of the day in carefully reconnoitring the fort, which seemed only too
strong. In conjunction with Leyderdorp, the head-quarters of Valdez, a
mile and a half distant on the right, and within a mile of the city, it
seemed so insuperable an impediment that Boisot wrote in despondent tone
to the Prince of Orange. He announced his intention of carrying the fort,
if it were possible, on the following morning, but if obliged to retreat,
he observed, with something like despair, that there would be nothing for
it but to wait for another gale of wind. If the waters should rise
sufficiently to enable them to make a wide detour, it might be possible,
if, in the meantime, Leyden did not starve or surrender, to enter its
gates from the opposite side.
Meantime, the citizens had grown wild with expectation. A dove had been
despatched by Boisot, informing them of his precise position, and a
number of citizens accompanied the burgomaster, at nightfall, toward the
tower of Hengist. Yonder, cried the magistrate, stretching out his hand
towards Lammen, "yonder, behind that fort, are bread and meat, and
brethren in thousands. Shall all this be destroyed by the Spanish guns,
or shall we rush to the rescue of our friends?"--"We will tear the
fortress to fragments with our teeth and nails," was the reply, "before
the relief, so long expected, shall be wrested from us." It was resolved
that a sortie, in conjunction with the operations of Boisot, should be
made against Lammen with the earliest dawn. Night descended upon the
scene, a pitch dark night, full of anxiety to the Spaniards, to the
armada, to Leyden. Strange sights and sounds occurred at different
moments to bewilder the anxious sentinels. A long procession of lights
issuing from the fort was seen to flit across the black face of the
waters, in the dead of night, and the whole of the city wall, between the
Cow-gate and the Tower of Burgundy, fell with a loud crash. The
horror-struck citizens thought that the Spaniards were upon them at last;
the Spaniards imagined the noise to indicate, a desperate sortie of the
citizens. Everything was vague and mysterious.
Day dawned, at length, after the feverish, night, and, the Admiral
prepared for the assault. Within the fortress reigned a death-like
stillness, which inspired a sickening suspicion. Had the city, indeed,
been carried in the night; had the massacre already commenced; had all
this labor and audacity been expended in vain? Suddenly a man was
descried, wading breast-high through the water from Lammen towards the
fleet, while at the same time, one solitary boy was seen to wave his cap
from the summit of the fort. After a moment of doubt, the happy mystery
was solved. The Spaniards had fled, panic struck, during the darkness.
Their position would still have enabled them, with firmness, to frustrate
the enterprise of the patriots, but the hand of God, which had sent the
ocean and the tempest to the deliverance of Leyden, had struck her
enemies with terror likewise. The lights which had been seen moving
during the night were the lanterns of the retreating Spaniards, and the
boy who was now waving his triumphant signal from the battlements had
alone witnessed the spectacle. So confident was he in the conclusion to
which it led him, that he had volunteered at daybreak to go thither all
alone. The magistrates, fearing a trap, hesitated for a moment to believe
the truth, which soon, however, became quite evident. Valdez, flying
himself from Leyderdorp, had ordered Colonel Borgia to retire with all
his troops from Lammen. Thus, the Spaniards had retreated at the very
moment that an extraordinary accident had laid bare a whole side of the
city for their entrance. The noise of the wall, as it fell, only inspired
them with fresh alarm for they believed that the citizens had sallied
forth in the darkness, to aid the advancing flood in the work of
destruction. All obstacles being now removed, the fleet of Boisot swept
by Lammen, and entered the city on the morning of the 3rd of October.
Leyden was relieved.
The quays were lined with the famishing population, as the fleet rowed
through the canals, every human being who could stand, coming forth to
greet the preservers of the city. Bread was thrown from every vessel
among the crowd. The poor creatures who, for two months had tasted no
wholesome human food, and who had literally been living within the jaws
of death, snatched eagerly the blessed gift, at last too liberally
bestowed. Many choked themselves to death, in the greediness with which
they devoured their bread; others became ill with the effects of plenty
thus suddenly succeeding starvation; but these were isolated cases, a
repetition of which was prevented. The Admiral, stepping ashore, was
welcomed by the magistracy, and a solemn procession was immediately
formed. Magistrates and citizens, wild Zealanders, emaciated burgher
guards, sailors, soldiers, women, children, nearly every living person
within the walls, all repaired without delay to the great church, stout
Admiral Boisot leading the way. The starving and heroic city, which had
been so firm in its resistance to an earthly king, now bent itself in
humble gratitude before the King of kings. After prayers, the whole vast
congregation joined in the thanksgiving hymn. Thousands of voices raised
the-song, but few were able to carry it to its conclusion, for the
universal emotion, deepened by the music, became too full for utterance.
The hymn was abruptly suspended, while the multitude wept like children.
This scene of honest pathos terminated; the necessary measures for
distributing the food and for relieving the sick were taken by the
magistracy. A note dispatched to the Prince of Orange, was received by
him at two o'clock, as he sat in church at Delft. It was of a somewhat
different purport from that of the letter which he had received early in
the same day from Boisot; the letter in which the admiral had, informed
him that the success of the enterprise depended; after-all, upon the
desperate assault upon a nearly impregnable fort. The joy of the Prince
may be easily imagined, and so soon as the sermon was concluded; he
handed the letter just received to the minister, to be read to the
congregation. Thus, all participated in his joy, and united with him in
thanksgiving.
The next day, notwithstanding the urgent entreaties of his friends, who
were anxious lest his life should be endangered by breathing, in his
scarcely convalescent state; the air of the city where so many thousands
had been dying of the pestilence, the Prince repaired to Leyden. He, at
least, had never doubted his own or his country's fortitude. They could,
therefore, most sincerely congratulate each other, now that the victory
had been achieved. "If we are doomed to perish," he had said a little
before the commencement of the siege, "in the name of God, be it so! At
any rate, we shall have the honor to have done what no nation ever, did
before us, that of having defended and maintained ourselves, unaided, in
so small a country, against the tremendous efforts of such powerful
enemies. So long as the poor inhabitants here, though deserted by all the
world, hold firm, it will still cost the Spaniards the half of Spain, in
money and in men, before they can make an end of us."
The termination of the terrible siege of Leyden was a convincing proof to
the Spaniards that they had not yet made an end of the Hollanders. It
furnished, also, a sufficient presumption that until they had made an end
of them, even unto the last Hollander, there would never be an end of the
struggle in which they were engaged. It was a slender consolation to the
Governor-General, that his troops had been vanquished, not by the enemy,
but by the ocean. An enemy whom the ocean obeyed with such docility might
well be deemed invincible by man. In the head-quarters of Valdez, at
Leyderdorp, many plans of Leyden and the neighbourhood were found lying
in confusion about the room. Upon the table was a hurried farewell of
that General to the scenes of his, discomfiture, written in a Latin
worthy of Juan Vargas: "Vale civitas, valete castelli parvi, qui relicti
estis propter aquam et non per vim inimicorum!" In his precipitate
retreat before the advancing rebels, the Commander had but just found
time for this elegant effusion, and, for his parting instructions to
Colonel Borgia that the fortress of Lammen was to be forthwith abandoned.
These having been reduced to writing, Valdez had fled so speedily as to
give rise to much censure and more scandal. He was even accused of having
been bribed by the Hollanders to desert his post, a tale which many
repeated, and a few believed. On the 4th of October, the day following
that on which the relief of the city was effected, the wind shifted to
the north-east, and again blew a tempest. It was as if the waters, having
now done their work, had been rolled back to the ocean by an Omnipotent
hand, for in the course of a few days, the land was bare again, and the
work of reconstructing the dykes commenced.
After a brief interval of repose, Leyden had regained its former
position. The Prince, with advice of the estates, had granted the city,
as a reward for its sufferings, a ten days' annual fair, without tolls or
taxes, and as a further manifestation of the gratitude entertained by the
people of Holland and Zealand for the heroism of the citizens, it was
resolved that an academy or university should be forthwith established
within their walls. The University of Leyden, afterwards so illustrious,
was thus founded in the very darkest period of the country's struggle.
The university was endowed with a handsome revenue, principally derived
from the ancient abbey of Egmont, and was provided with a number of
professors, selected for their genius, learning, and piety among all the
most distinguished scholars of the Netherlands. The document by which the
institution was founded was certainly a masterpiece of ponderous irony,
for as the fiction of the King's sovereignty was still maintained, Philip
was gravely made to establish the university, as a reward to Leyden for
rebellion to himself. "Considering," said this wonderful charter, "that
during these present wearisome wars within our provinces of Holland and
Zealand, all good instruction of youth in the sciences and liberal arts
is likely to come into entire oblivion..... Considering the
differences of religion--considering that we are inclined to gratify our
city of Leyden, with its burghers, on account of the heavy burthens
sustained by them during this war with such faithfulness--we have
resolved, after ripely deliberating with our dear cousin, William, Prince
of Orange, stadholder, to erect a free public school and university,"
etc., etc., etc. So ran the document establishing this famous academy,
all needful regulations for the government and police of the institution
being entrusted by Philip to his "above-mentioned dear cousin of Orange."
The university having been founded, endowed, and supplied with its
teachers, it was solemnly consecrated in the following winter, and it is
agreeable to contemplate this scene of harmless pedantry, interposed, as
it was, between the acts of the longest and dreariest tragedy of modern
time. On the 5th of February, 1575, the city of Leyden, so lately the
victim of famine and pestilence, had crowned itself with flowers. At
seven in the morning, after a solemn religious celebration in the Church
of St. Peter, a grand procession was formed. It was preceded by a
military escort, consisting of the burgher militia and the five companies
of infantry stationed in the city. Then came, drawn by four horses, a
splendid triumphal chariot, on which sat a female figure, arrayed in
snow-white garments. This was the Holy Gospel. She was attended by the
Four Evangelists, who walked on foot at each side of her chariot. Next
followed Justice, with sword and scales, mounted; blindfold, upon a
unicorn, while those learned doctors, Julian, Papinian, Ulpian, and
Tribonian, rode on either side, attended by two lackeys and four men at
arms. After these came Medicine, on horseback, holding in one hand a
treatise of the healing art, in the other a garland of drugs. The
curative goddess rode between the four eminent physicians, Hippocrates,
Galen, Dioscorides, and Theophrastus, and was attended by two footmen and
four pike-bearers. Last of the allegorical personages came Minerva,
prancing in complete steel, with lance in rest, and bearing her Medusa
shield. Aristotle and Plato, Cicero and Virgil, all on horseback, with
attendants in antique armor at their back, surrounded the daughter of
Jupiter, while the city band, discoursing eloquent music from hautboy and
viol, came upon the heels of the allegory. Then followed the mace-bearers
and other officials, escorting the orator of the day, the newly-appointed
professors and doctors, the magistrates and dignitaries, and the body of
the citizens generally completing the procession.
Marshalled in this order, through triumphal arches, and over a pavement
strewed with flowers, the procession moved slowly up and down the
different streets, and along the quiet canals of the city. As it reached
the Nuns' Bridge, a barge of triumph, gorgeously decorated, came floating
slowly down the sluggish Rhine. Upon its deck, under a canopy enwreathed
with laurels and oranges, and adorned with tapestry, sat Apollo, attended
by the Nine Muses, all in classical costume; at the helm stood Neptune
with his trident. The Muses executed some beautiful concerted pieces;
Apollo twanged his lute. Having reached the landing-place, this
deputation from Parnassus stepped on shore, and stood awaiting the
arrival of the procession. Each professor, as he advanced, was gravely
embraced and kissed by Apollo and all the Nine Muses in turn, who greeted
their arrival besides with the recitation of an elegant Latin poem. This
classical ceremony terminated, the whole procession marched together to
the cloister of Saint Barbara, the place prepared for the new university,
where they listened to an eloquent oration by the Rev. Caspar Kolhas,
after which they partook of a magnificent banquet. With this memorable
feast, in the place where famine had so lately reigned, the ceremonies
were concluded.