The Rise of the Dutch Republic, 1580-82 | Page 2

or exchange, but none of the prisoners in
the hands of the patriots were considered a fair equivalent. The hideous
proposition was even made by Philip the Second to La Noue, that he
should receive his liberty if he would permit his eyes to be put out, as a
preliminary condition. The fact is attested by several letters written by
La Noue to his wife. The prisoner, wearied, shattered in health, and
sighing for air and liberty, was disposed and even anxious to accept the
infamous offer, and discussed the matter philosophically in his letters.
That lady, however, horror-struck at the suggestion, implored him to
reject the condition, which he accordingly consented to do. At last, in
June, 1585, he was exchanged, on extremely rigorous terms, for
Egmont. During his captivity in this vile dungeon, he composed not
only his famous political and military discourses, but several other
works, among the rest; Annotations upon Plutarch and upon the
Histories of Guicciardini.
The siege of Groningen proceeded, and Parma ordered some forces
under Martin Schenck to advance to its relief. On the other hand, the
meagre states' forces under Sonoy, Hohenlo, Entes, and Count John of
Nassau's young son, William Louis, had not yet made much impression
upon the city. There was little military skill to atone for the feebleness
of the assailing army, although there was plenty of rude valor. Barthold
Entes, a man of desperate character, was impatient at the dilatoriness of
the proceedings. After having been in disgrace with the states, since the
downfall of his friend and patron, the Count De la Marck, he had
recently succeeded to a regiment in place of Colonel Ysselstein,
"dismissed for a homicide or two." On the 17th of May, he had been
dining at Rolda, in company with Hohenlo and the young Count of
Nassau. Returning to the trenches in a state of wild intoxication, he
accosted a knot of superior officers, informing them that they were but
boys, and that he would show them how to carry the faubourg of
Groningen on the instant. He was answered that the faubourg, being
walled and moated, could be taken only by escalade or battery.
Laughing loudly, he rushed forward toward the counterscarp, waving
his sword, and brandishing on his left arm the cover of a butter firkin,
which he had taken instead of his buckler. He had advanced, however,
but a step, when a bullet from the faubourg pierced his brain, and he

fell dead without a word.
So perished one of the wild founders of the Netherland
commonwealth--one of the little band of reckless adventurers who had
captured the town of Brill in 1572, and thus laid the foundation stone of
a great republic, which was to dictate its laws to the empire of Charles
the Fifth. He was in some sort a type. His character was emblematical
of the worst side of the liberating movement. Desperate, lawless,
ferocious--a robber on land, a pirate by sea--he had rendered great
service in the cause of his fatherland, and had done it much disgrace.
By the evil deeds of men like himself, the fair face of liberty had been
profaned at its first appearance. Born of a respectable family, he had
been noted, when a student in this very Groningen where he had now
found his grave, for the youthful profligacy of his character. After
dissipating his partrimony, he had taken to the sea, the legalized piracy
of the mortal struggle with Spain offering a welcome refuge to
spendthrifts like himself. In common with many a banished noble of
ancient birth and broken fortunes, the riotous student became a
successful corsair, and it is probable that his prizes were made as well
among the friends as the enemies of his country. He amassed in a short
time one hundred thousand crowns--no contemptible fortune in those
days. He assisted La Marck in the memorable attack upon Brill, but
behaved badly and took to flight when Mondragon made his
memorable expedition to relieve Tergoes. He had subsequently been
imprisoned, with La Marck for insubordination, and during his
confinement had dissipated a large part of his fortune. In 1574, after the
violation of the Ghent treaty, he had returned to, his piratical pursuits,
and having prospered again as rapidly as he had done during his former
cruises, had been glad to exchange the ocean for more honorable
service on shore. The result was the tragic yet almost ludicrous
termination which we have narrated. He left a handsome property, the
result of his various piracies, or, according to the usual euphemism,
prizes. He often expressed regret at the number of traders whom he had
cast into the sea, complaining, in particular, of one victim whom he had
thrown overboard, who would never sink, but who for years