The Rise of the Dutch Republic, 1567 part 1 | Page 7

showed themselves above their
bulwarks. The ditch was crossed, the breastwork carried at, a single
determined charge. The rebels made little resistance, but fled as soon as
the enemy entered their fort. It was a hunt, not a battle. Hundreds were
stretched dead in the camp; hundreds were driven into the Scheld; six
or eight hundred took refuge in a farm-house; but De Beauvoir's men
set fire to the building, and every rebel who had entered it was burned

alive or shot. No quarter was given. Hardly a man of the three thousand
who had held the fort escaped. The body of Tholouse was cut into a
hundred pieces. The Seigneur de Beauvoir had reason, in the brief letter
which gave an account of this exploit, to assure her Highness that there
were "some very valiant fellows in his little troop." Certainly they had
accomplished the enterprise entrusted to them with promptness,
neatness, and entire success. Of the great rebellious gathering, which
every day had seemed to grow more formidable, not a vestige was left.
This bloody drama had been enacted in full sight of Antwerp. The fight
had lasted from daybreak till ten o'clock in the forenoon, during the
whole of which period, the city ramparts looking towards Ostrawell,
the roofs of houses, the towers of churches had been swarming with
eager spectators. The sound of drum and trumpet, the rattle of musketry,
the shouts of victory, the despairing cries of the vanquished were heard
by thousands who deeply sympathized with the rebels thus enduring so
sanguinary a chastisement. In Antwerp there were forty thousand
people opposed to the Church of Rome. Of this number the greater
proportion were Calvinists, and of these Calvinists there were
thousands looking down from the battlements upon the disastrous fight.
The excitement soon became uncontrollable. Before ten o'clock vast
numbers of sectaries came pouring towards the Red Gate, which
afforded the readiest egress to the scene of action; the drawbridge of
the Ostrawell Gate having been destroyed the night before by command
of Orange. They came from every street and alley of the city. Some
were armed with lance, pike, or arquebus; some bore sledge-hammers;
others had the partisans, battle-axes, and huge two-handed swords of
the previous century; all were determined upon issuing forth to the
rescue of their friends in the fields outside the town. The wife of
Tholouse, not yet aware of her husband's death, although his defeat was
obvious, flew from street to street, calling upon the Calvinists to save
or to avenge their perishing brethren.
A terrible tumult prevailed. Ten thousand men were already up and in
arms.--It was then that the Prince of Orange, who was sometimes
described by his enemies as timid and pusillanimous by nature, showed
the mettle he was made of. His sense of duty no longer bade him
defend the crown of Philip--which thenceforth was to be entrusted to
the hirelings of the Inquisition--but the vast population of Antwerp, the

women, the children, and the enormous wealth of the richest Deity in
the world had been confided to his care, and he had accepted the
responsibility. Mounting his horse, he made his appearance instantly at
the Red Gate, before as formidable a mob as man has ever faced. He
came there almost alone, without guards. Hoogstraaten arrived soon
afterwards with the same intention. The Prince was received with howls
of execration. A thousand hoarse voices called him the Pope's servant,
minister of Antichrist, and lavished upon him many more epithets of
the same nature. His life was in imminent danger. A furious clothier
levelled an arquebus full at his breast. "Die, treacherous villain?" he
cried; "thou who art the cause that our brethren have perished thus
miserably in yonder field." The loaded weapon was struck away by
another hand in the crowd, while the Prince, neither daunted by the
ferocious demonstrations against his life, nor enraged by the virulent
abuse to which he was subjected, continued tranquilly, earnestly,
imperatively to address the crowd. William of Orange had that in his
face and tongue "which men willingly call master- authority." With
what other talisman could he, without violence and without soldiers,
have quelled even for a moment ten thousand furious Calvinists, armed,
enraged against his person, and thirsting for vengeance on Catholics.
The postern of the Red Gate had already been broken through before
Orange and his colleague, Hoogstraaten, had arrived. The most excited
of the Calvinists were preparing to rush forth upon the enemy at
Ostrawell. The Prince, after he had gained the ear of the multitude,
urged that the battle was now over, that the reformers were entirely cut
to pieces, the enemy, retiring, and that a disorderly and ill-armed mob
would be unable to retrieve the fortunes of the day. Many were
persuaded to