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When night fell the pile of combustibles was lighted, and gave out so dense a smoke that the signal fires lighted by Batenburg were hidden from the townspeople. As soon as the column advanced from the wood they were attacked by an overwhelming force of the enemy. Batenburg was killed and his troops utterly routed, with the loss, according to the Dutch accounts, of from five to six hundred, but of many more according to Spanish statements. The besieged, ranged under arms, heard the sound of the distant conflict, but as they had seen no signal fires believed that it was only a device of the Spaniards to tempt them into making a sally, and it was not until morning, when Don Frederick sent in a prisoner with his nose and ears cut off to announce the news, that they knew that the last effort to save them had failed.
The blow was a terrible one, and there was great commotion in the town. After consultation the garrison and the able bodied citizens resolved to issue out in a solid column, and to cut their way through the enemy or perish. It was thought that if the women, the helpless, and infirm alone remained in the city they would be treated with greater mercy after all the fighting men had been slain. But as soon as this resolution became known the women and children issued from the houses with loud cries and tears. The burghers were unable to withstand their entreaties that all should die together, and it was then resolved that the fighting men should be formed into a hollow square, in which the women, children, sick, and aged should be gathered, and so to sally out, and either win a way through the camp or die together.
But the news of this resolve reached the ears of Don Frederick. He knew now what the burghers of Haarlem were capable of, and thought that they would probably fire the city before they left, and thus leaving nothing but a heap of ashes as a trophy of his victory. He therefore sent a letter to the magistrates, in the name of Count Overstein, commander of the German forces in the besieging army, giving a solemn assurance that if they surrendered at discretion no punishment should be inflicted except upon those who, in the judgment of the citizens themselves, had deserved it.
At the moment of sending the letter Don Frederick was in possession of strict orders from his father not to leave a man alive of the garrison, with the exception of the Germans, and to execute a large number of the burghers. On the receipt of this letter the city formally surrendered on the 10th of July. The great bell was tolled, and orders were issued that all arms should be brought to the town hall, that the women should assemble in the cathedral and the men in the cloister of Zyl. Then Don Frederick with his staff rode into the city. The scene which met their eyes was a terrible one. Everywhere were ruins of houses which had been set on fire by the Spanish artillery, the pavement had been torn up to repair the gaps in the walls, unburied bodies of men and women were scattered about the streets, while those still alive were mere shadows scarcely able to maintain their feet.
No time was lost in commencing the massacre. All the officers were at once put to death. The garrison had been reduced during the siege from 4000 to 1800. Of these the Germans–600 in number–were allowed to depart. The remaining 1200 were immediately butchered, with at least as many of the citizens. Almost every citizen distinguished by service, station, or wealth was slaughtered, and from day to day five executioners were kept constantly at work. The city was not sacked, the inhabitants agreeing to raise a great sum of money as a ransom.
As soon as the surrender was determined upon, Ned helped his cousins into the refuge prepared for them, passed in the bread and water, walled up the hole and whitewashed it, his aunt being too weak to render any assistance. Before they entered he opened the bag and took out a few crusts.
"You must eat something now, aunt," he said. "It may be a day or two before any food is distributed, and it is no use holding on so long to die of hunger when food is almost in sight. There is plenty in the bag to last the girls for a week. You must eat sparingly, girls,–not because there is not enough food, but because after fasting so long it is necessary for you at first to take food in very small quantities."
The bread taken out was soaked, and it swelled so much in the water that it made much more than he had expected. He therefore divided it in half, and a portion made an excellent meal for Ned and his aunt, the remaining being carefully put by for the following day.
An hour or two after eating the meal Frau Plomaert felt so much stronger that she was able to obey the order to go up to the cathedral. Ned went with the able bodied men to the cloisters. The Spaniards soon came among them, and dragged off numbers of those whom they thought most likely to have taken a prominent part in the fighting, to execution. As they did not wish others from whom money could be wrung to escape from their hands, they presently issued some food to the remainder. The women, after remaining for some hours in the cathedral, were suffered to depart to their homes, for their starving condition excited the compassion even of the Spaniards; and the atrocities which had taken place at the sacks of Mechlin, Zutphen and Naarden, were not repeated in Haarlem.
The next day the men were also released; not from any ideas of mercy, but in order that when they returned to their homes the work of picking out the better class for execution could be the more easily carried on. For three days longer the girls remained in their hiding, and were then allowed to come out, as Ned felt now that the danger of general massacre was averted.
"Now, Ned," his aunt said, "you must stay here no longer. Every day we hear proclamations read in the streets that all sheltering refugees and others not belonging to the town will be punished with death; and, as you know, every stranger caught has been murdered."
This they had heard from some of the neighbours. Ned himself had not stirred out since he returned from the cloisters; for his aunt had implored him not to do so, as it would only be running useless risk.
"I hear," she went on, "that they have searched many houses for fugitives, and it is probable the hunt may become even more strict; therefore I think, Ned, that for our sake as well as your own you had better try to escape."
"I quite agree with you, aunt. Now that the worst is over, and I know that you and the girls are safe, no good purpose could be served by my staying; and being both a stranger and one who has fought here, I should certainly be killed if they laid hands on me. As to escaping, I do not think there can be any difficulty about that. I have often let myself down from the walls, and can do so again; and although there is a strict watch kept at the gates to prevent any leaving until the Spaniards' thirst for blood is satisfied, there can be no longer any vigilant watch kept up by the troops encamped outside, and I ought certainly to be able to get through them at night. It will be dark in a couple of hours, and as soon as it is so I will be off."
The girls burst into tears at the thought of Ned's departure. During the seven long months the siege had lasted he had been as a brother to them–keeping up their spirits by his cheerfulness, looking after their safety, and as far as possible after their comfort, and acting as the adviser and almost as the head of the house. His aunt was almost equally affected, for she had come to lean entirely upon him and to regard him as a son.
"It is best that it should be so, Ned; but we shall all miss you sorely. It may be that I shall follow your advice and come over to England on a long visit. Now that I know you so well it will not seem like going among strangers, as it did before; for although I met your father and mother whenever they came over to Vordwyk, I had not got to know them as I know you. I shall talk the matter over with my father. Of course everything depends upon what is going to happen in Holland."
Ned did not tell his aunt that her father had been one of the first dragged out from the cloisters for execution, and that her sister, who kept house for him, had died three days previous to the surrender. His going away was grief enough for her for one day, and he turned the conversation to other matters until night fell, when, after a sad parting, he made his way to the walls, having wound round his waist the rope by which he had been accustomed to lower himself.
The executions in Haarlem continued for two days after he had left, and then the five executioners were so weary of slaying that the three hundred prisoners who still remained for execution were tied back to back and thrown into the lake.
CHAPTER XV
NED RECEIVES PROMOTION
It was fortunate for Ned that the watch round the city had relaxed greatly when he started from it. The soldiers were discontented at the arrangement that had been made for the city to pay an immense sum of money to escape a general sack. They were all many months in arrear of their pay. They had suffered during the siege, and they now considered themselves to be cheated of their fair reward. The sum paid by the city would go into the hands of the duke; and although the soldiers were promised a share of the prize money, the duke's necessities were so great that it was probable little of the money would find its way into the hands of the troops.
A sack upon the other hand was looked upon as a glorious lottery. Every one was sure to gain something. Many would obtain most valuable prizes of money or jewelry. No sooner, therefore, had Haarlem surrendered than a mutinous spirit began to show itself among the troops; they became slack in obeying the orders of their officers, refused to perform their duties, and either gathered in bodies to discuss their wrongs or sulked in their tents. Thus the work of keeping a vigilant watch round the walls by night, to prevent the escape of the victims selected to satiate the vengeance of Don Frederick, was greatly relaxed.
After lowering himself from the walls Ned proceeded with great caution. On reaching the spot where he expected to meet with a cordon of sentries, he was surprised at finding everything still and quiet. Unaware of the state of things in the camp, and suspecting that some device had perhaps been hit upon with the view of inducing men to try to escape from the city, he redoubled his precautions, stopping every few paces to listen for the calls of the sentries, or a heavy tread, or the clash of arms. All was silent, and he continued his course until close to the camps of some of the German regiments. Incredible as it seemed to him, it was now evident that no sentries had been posted. He saw great fires blazing in the camps, and a large number of men standing near one of them; they were being addressed by a soldier standing upon a barrel.
Keeping in the shadow of the tents, Ned made his way close up to the group, and the similarity of the German language to the Dutch enabled him to gather without difficulty the meaning of the speaker's words. He was recounting to the soldiers the numberless toils and hardships through which they had passed in the service of Spain, and the ingratitude with which they were treated.
"They pretend they have no money!" he exclaimed, "it is not true. Spain has the wealth of the Indies at her back, and yet she grudges us our pay for the services we have faithfully rendered her. Why should we throw away our lives for Spain? What do we care whether she is mistress of this wretched country or not? Let us resolve, brethren, to be moved neither by entreaties or threats, but to remain fast to the oath we and our Spanish comrades have sworn, that we will neither march a foot nor lift an arm until we have received our pay; and not only our pay, but our share of the booty they have stolen from us."
The shouts of approval that greeted the speech showed that the speaker's audience was thoroughly in accord with him. Ned waited to hear no further orations, he understood now the withdrawal of the sentries. It was another of the mutinies that had so frequently broken out among the Spanish forces in the Netherlands. Making his way out through the other side of the camp he proceeded on his journey. The news was important, for if the mutiny continued it would give the Prince of Orange time to prepare for the forward march of the enemy. He passed several other camps, but observed everywhere the same slackness of discipline and the absence of military precaution.
All night he pushed forward without stopping, and as soon as the gates of Leyden were opened he entered. Upon inquiring he found that the prince was at Delft, and hiring a horse he at once rode there. The prince received him with real pleasure.
"And so you have escaped safe and sound from the siege, Master Martin? Truly your good fortune is wonderful. I am glad indeed to see you. Tell me how goes it in Haarlem. Rumours reached me that there, as at other towns, they have broken their oaths, and are massacring the whole population."
"It is not so bad as that, sir," Ned replied. "They have put to death numbers of the principal citizens and all refugees they could discover in the city, but there has been no regular sack. The women have not been ill treated, and although five executioners were kept busily at work there has been nothing like a general massacre."
"Thank God for that," the prince said piously. "That has eased my mind. I feared that the horrors of Zutphen and Naarden had been re-enacted."
"I have another piece of good news to give you, sir. As I passed through their camps, I learned that all the troops, German as well as Spanish, are in open mutiny, and have sworn that they will neither march nor fight until they receive all arrears of pay."
"That is good news indeed!" the prince exclaimed. "It will give us breathing time, of which we are sadly in need. Were the Spaniards to march forward now, they could sweep over Holland, for I could not put a thousand men in the field to withstand them. And now, Master Martin, what shall I do for you? You have received as yet no reward whatever for the great service you rendered us by the successful carrying out of your mission to Brussels, to say nothing of the part you have borne in the defence of Haarlem. I know that you joined us from pure love of our cause and hatred of Spanish tyranny, still that is no reason why I should not recognize your services. If you would like it, I would gladly appoint you to the command of a company of volunteers."
"I thank you greatly, your highness," replied Ned; "but I am far too young to command men, and pray that you will allow me to remain near your person, and to perform such service as you may think me capable of."
"If that be your wish, it shall be so for the present," the prince replied; "and it is pleasant to me in these days, when almost every noble in the Netherlands puts a price on his services, and when even the cities bargain for every crown piece they advance, to find one who wants nothing. But now you need rest. When I am more at leisure you shall furnish me with further details of what took place inside Haarlem during the siege."
The long defence of Haarlem, the enormous expenditure which it had cost, both in money and life, for no less than 10,000 soldiers had fallen in the assault or by disease, induced Alva to make another attempt to win back the people of Holland, and three days after Ned's return a proclamation was sent to every town.
He adopted an affectionate tone: "Ye are well aware," began the address, "that the king has over and over again manifested his willingness to receive his children, in however forlorn a condition the prodigals might return. His majesty assures you once more that your sins, however black they may have been, shall be forgiven and forgotten in the plentitude of royal kindness, if you will repent and return in season to his majesty's embrace. Notwithstanding your manifold crimes, his majesty still seeks, like a hen calling her chickens, to gather you all under the parental wing."
This portion of the document, which was by the order of the magistrates affixed to the doors of the town halls, was received with shouts of laughter by the citizens, and many were the jokes as to the royal hen and the return of the prodigals. The conclusion of the document afforded a little further insight into the affectionate disposition of the royal bird. "If," continued the proclamation, "ye disregard these offers of mercy, and receive them with closed ears as heretofore, then we warn you that there is no rigour or cruelty, however great, which you are not to expect, by laying waste, starvation, and the sword. In such manner that nowhere shall remain a relic of that which at present exists, but his majesty will strip bare and utterly depopulate the land, and cause it to be inhabited again by strangers, since otherwise his majesty would not believe that the will of God and of his majesty had been accomplished."
This proclamation produced no effect whatever; for the people of Holland were well aware that Philip of Spain would never grant that religious toleration for which they were fighting, and they knew also that no reliance whatever could be placed in Spanish promises or oaths. For a month Alva was occupied in persuading the troops to return to their duty, and at last managed to raise a sufficient sum of money to pay each man a portion of the arrears due to him, and a few crowns on account of his share of the ransom paid by Haarlem. During this breathing time the Prince of Orange was indefatigable in his endeavours to raise a force capable of undertaking the relief of such towns as the Spanish might invest.
This, however, he found well nigh impossible. The cities were all ready to defend themselves, but in spite of the danger that threatened they were chary in the extreme in contributing money for the common cause, nor would the people enlist for service in the field. Nothing had occurred to shake the belief in the invincibility of the Spanish soldiery in fair fight in the open, and the disasters which had befallen the bodies of volunteers who had endeavoured to relieve Haarlem, effectually deterred others from following their example. The prince's only hope, therefore, of being able to put a force into the field, rested upon his brother Louis, who was raising an army of mercenaries in Germany.
He had little assurance, however, that relief would come from this quarter, as the two armies he had himself raised in Germany had effected absolutely nothing. His efforts to raise a fleet were more successful. The hardy mariners of Zeeland were ready to fight on their own element, and asked nothing better than to meet the Spaniards at sea. Nevertheless the money had to be raised for the purchase of vessels, stores, artillery, and ammunition. Ned was frequently despatched by the prince with letters to magistrates of the chief towns, to nobles and men of influence, and always performed his duties greatly to the prince's satisfaction.
As soon as the Duke of Alva had satisfied the troops, preparations began for a renewal of hostilities, and the prince soon learnt that it was intended that Don Frederick should invade Northern Holland with 16,000 men, and that the rest of the army, which had lately received further reinforcements, should lay siege to Leyden. The prince felt confident that Leyden could resist for a time, but he was very anxious as to the position of things in North Holland. In the courage and ability of Sonoy, the Lieutenant Governor of North Holland, the prince had entire confidence; but it was evident by the tone of his letters that he had lost all hope of being able to defend the province, and altogether despaired of the success of their cause. He had written in desponding tones at the utterly insufficient means at his disposal for meeting the storm that was about to burst upon the province, and had urged that unless the prince had a good prospect of help, either from France or England, it was better to give up the struggle, than to bring utter destruction upon the whole people.
The letter in which the prince answered him has been preserved, and well illustrates the lofty tones of his communications in this crisis of the fate of Holland. He reprimanded with gentle but earnest eloquence the despondency and want of faith of his lieutenant and other adherents. He had not expected, he said, that they would have so soon forgotten their manly courage. They seemed to consider the whole fate of the country attached to the city of Haarlem. He took God to witness that he had spared no pains, and would willingly have spared no drop of his blood to save that devoted city.
"But as, notwithstanding our efforts," he continued, "it has pleased God Almighty to dispose of Haarlem according to His divine will, shall we, therefore, deny and deride His holy word? Has His church, therefore, come to nought? You ask if I have entered into a firm treaty with any great king or potentate, to which I answer that before I ever took up the cause of the oppressed Christians in these provinces I had entered into a close alliance with the King of kings; and I am firmly convinced that all who put their trust in Him shall be saved by His Almighty hand. The God of armies will raise up armies for us to do battle with our enemies and His own."
In conclusion he detailed his preparations for attacking the enemy by sea as well as by land, and encouraged his lieutenant and the population of the northern province to maintain a bold front before the advancing foe. That Sonoy would do his best the prince was sure; but he knew how difficult it is for one who himself regards resistance as hopeless to inspire enthusiasm in others, and he determined to send a message to cheer the people of North Holland, and urge them to resist to the last, and to intrust it to one who could speak personally as to the efforts that were being made for their assistance, and who was animated by a real enthusiasm in the cause.
It was an important mission; but after considering the various persons of his household, he decided to intrust it to the lad who had showed such courage and discretion in his dangerous mission to Brussels. A keen observer of character, the prince felt that he could trust the young fellow absolutely to do his best at whatever risk to himself. He had believed when he first joined him that Ned was some eighteen years of age, and the year that had since elapsed with its dangers and responsibilities had added two or three years to his appearance.
It was the fashion in Holland to entirely shave the face, and Ned's smooth cheeks were therefore no sign of youth. Standing over the average height of the natives of Holland, with broad shoulders and well set figure, he might readily pass as a man of three or four and twenty. The prince accordingly sent for the lad.
"I have another mission for you, Master Martin; and again a dangerous one. The Spaniards are on the point of marching to lay siege to Alkmaar, and I wish a message carried to the citizens, assuring them that they may rely absolutely upon my relieving them by breaking down the dykes. I wish you on this occasion to be more than a messenger. In these despatches I have spoken of you as one, Captain Martin, who possesses my fullest confidence. You would as you say be young to be a captain of a company of fighting men, but as an officer attached to my household you can bear that rank as well as another.
"It will be useful, and will add to your influence and authority, and I have therefore appointed you to the grade of captain, of which by your conduct you have proved yourself to be worthy. Your mission is to encourage the inhabitants to resist to the last, to rouse them to enthusiasm if you can, to give them my solemn promise that they shall not be deserted, and to assure them that if I cannot raise a force sufficient to relieve them I will myself come round and superintend the operation of cutting the dykes and laying the whole country under water. I do not know whether you will find the lieutenant governor in the city, but at any rate he will not remain there during the siege, as he has work outside. But I shall give you a letter recommending you to him, and ask him to give you his warmest support."
The prince then took off the gold chain he wore round his neck, and placed it upon Ned. "I give you this in the first place, Captain Martin, in token of my esteem and of my gratitude for the perilous service you have already rendered; and secondly, as a visible mark of my confidence in you, and as a sign that I have intrusted you with authority to speak for me. Going as you now do, it will be best for you to assume somewhat more courtly garments in order to do credit to your mission. I have given orders that these shall be prepared for you, and that you shall be provided with a suit of armour, such as a young noble would wear. All will be prepared for you this afternoon. At six o'clock a ship will be in readiness to sail, and this will land you on the coast at the nearest point to Alkmaar. Should any further point occur to you before evening, speak to me freely about it."
Ned retired depressed rather than elated at the confidence the prince reposed in him, and at the rank and dignity he had bestowed upon him. He questioned, too, whether he had not done wrong in not stating at once when the prince had, on his first joining him, set down his age at over eighteen, that he was two years under that age, and he hesitated whether he ought not even now to go to him and state the truth. He would have done so had he not known how great were the labours of the prince, and how incessantly he was occupied, and so feared to upset his plans and cause him fresh trouble.
"Anyhow," he said to himself at last, "I will do my best; and I could do no more if I were nineteen instead of seventeen. The prince has chosen me for this business, not because of my age, but because he thought I could carry it out; and carry it out I will, if it be in my power."
In the afternoon a clothier arrived with several suits of handsome material and make, out of sober colours, such as a young man of good family would wear, and an armourer brought him a morion and breast and back pieces of steel, handsomely inlaid with gold. When he was alone he attired himself in the quietest of his new suits, and looking at himself in the mirror burst into a fit of hearty laughter.
"What in the world would my father and mother and the girls say were they to see me pranked out in such attire as this? They would scarce know me, and I shall scarce know myself for some time. However, I think I shall be able to play my part as the prince's representative better in these than I should have done in the dress I started in last time, or in that I wore on board the Good Venture."
At five o'clock Ned paid another visit to the prince, and thanked him heartily for his kindness towards him, and then received a few last instructions. On his return to his room he found a corporal and four soldiers at the door. The former saluted.
"We have orders, Captain Martin, to place ourselves under your command for detached duty. Our kits are already on board the ship; the men will carry down your mails if they are packed."
"I only take that trunk with me," Ned said, pointing to the one that contained his new clothes; "and there is besides my armour, and that brace of pistols."
Followed by the corporal and men, Ned now made his way down to the port, where the captain of the little vessel received him with profound respect. As soon as they were on board the sails were hoisted, and the vessel ran down the channel from Delft through the Hague to the sea. On the following morning they anchored soon after daybreak. A boat was lowered, and Ned and the soldiers landed on the sandy shore. Followed by them he made his way over the high range of sand hills facing the sea, and then across the low cultivated country extending to Alkmaar. He saw parties of men and women hurrying northward along the causeways laden with goods, and leading in most instances horses or donkeys, staggering under the weights placed upon them.
"I think we are but just in time, corporal. The population of the villages are evidently fleeing before the advance of the Spaniards. Another day and we should have been too late to get into the town."
Alkmaar had been in sight from the time they had crossed the dunes, and after walking five miles they arrived at its gates.
"Is the lieutenant governor in the town?" Ned asked one of the citizens.
"Yes, he is still here," the man said. "You will find him at the town hall."
There was much excitement in the streets. Armed burghers were standing in groups, women were looking anxiously from doors and casements; but Ned was surprised to see no soldiers about, although he knew that the eight hundred whom the prince had despatched as a garrison must have arrived there some days before. On arriving at the town hall he found the general seated at table. In front of him were a group of elderly men whom he supposed to be the leading citizens, and it was evident by the raised voices and angry looks, both of the old officer and of the citizens, that there was some serious difference of opinion between them.
"Whom have we here?" Sonoy asked as Ned approached the table.
"I am a messenger, sir, from the prince. I bear these despatches to yourself, and have also letters and messages from him to the citizens of Alkmaar."
"You come at a good season," the governor said shortly, taking the despatches, "and if anything you can say will soften the obstinacy of these good people here, you will do them and me a service."
There was silence for a few minutes as the governor read the letter Ned had brought him.
