The Rise of the Dutch Republic, 1582-84 | Page 6

le Due d'Anjou!" They were followed
by their comrades from the camp outside, who now poured into the
town at the preconcerted signal, at least six hundred cavalry and three
thousand musketeers, all perfectly appointed, entering Antwerp at once.
From the Kipdorp gate two main arteries--the streets called the Kipdorp
and the Meer--led quite through the heart of the city, towards the
townhouse and the river beyond. Along these great thoroughfares the
French soldiers advanced at a rapid pace; the cavalry clattering
furiously in the van, shouting "Ville gaignee, ville gaignee! vive la
messe, vive la messe! tue, tue, tue!"
The burghers coming to door and window to look for the cause of all
this disturbance, were saluted with volleys of musketry. They were for
a moment astonished, but not appalled, for at first they believed it to be
merely an accidental tumult. Observing, however, that the soldiers,

meeting with but little effective resistance, were dispersing into
dwellings and warehouses, particularly into the shops of the goldsmiths
and lapidaries, the citizens remembered the dark suspicions which had
been so rife, and many recalled to mind that distinguished French
officers had during, the last few days been carefully examining the
treasures of the jewellers, under pretext of purchasing, but, as it now
appeared, with intent to rob intelligently.
The burghers, taking this rapid view of their position, flew instantly to
arms. Chains and barricades were stretched across the streets; the
trumpets sounded through the city; the municipal guards swarmed to
the rescue. An effective rally was made, as usual, at the Bourse,
whither a large detachment of the invaders had forced their way.
Inhabitants of all classes and conditions, noble and simple, Catholic
and Protestant, gave each other the hand, and swore to die at each
other's side in defence of the city against the treacherous strangers. The
gathering was rapid and enthusiastic. Gentlemen came with lance and
cuirass, burghers with musket and bandoleer, artisans with axe, mallet,
and other implements of their trade. A bold baker, standing by his
oven-stark naked, according to the custom of bakers at that day--rushed
to the street as the sound of the tumult reached his ear. With his heavy
bread shovel, which he still held in his hand, he dealt a French cavalry,
officer, just riding and screaming by, such a hearty blow that he fell
dead from his horse. The baker seized the officer's sword, sprang all
unattired as he was, upon his steed, and careered furiously through the
streets, encouraging his countrymen everywhere to the attack, and
dealing dismay through the ranks of the enemy. His services in that
eventful hour were so signal that he was publicly thanked afterwards by
the magistrates for his services, and rewarded with a pension of three
hundred florins for life.
The invaders had been forced from the Bourse, while another portion of
them had penetrated as far as the Market-place. The resistance which
they encountered became every instant more formidable, and
Fervacques, a leading French officer, who was captured on the
occasion, acknowledged that no regular troops could have fought more
bravely than did these stalwart burghers. Women and children mounted
to roof and window, whence they hurled, not only tiles and chimney
pots, but tables, ponderous chairs, and other bulky articles, upon the

heads of the assailants, while such citizens as had used all their bullets,
loaded their pieces with the silver buttons from their doublets, or
twisted gold and silver coins with their teeth into ammunition. With a
population so resolute, the four thousand invaders, however audacious,
soon found themselves swallowed up. The city had closed over them
like water, and within an hour nearly a third of their whole number had
been slain. Very few of the burghers had perished, and fresh numbers
were constantly advancing to the attack. The Frenchmen, blinded,
staggering, beaten, attempted to retreat. Many threw themselves from
the fortifications into the moat. The rest of the survivors struggled
through the streets--falling in large numbers at every step-towards the
point at which they had so lately entered the city. Here at the Kipdorp
gate was a ghastly spectacle, the slain being piled up in the narrow
passage full ten feet high, while some of the heap, not quite dead, were
striving to extricate a hand or foot, and others feebly thrust forth their
heads to gain a mouthful of air.
From the outside, some of Anjou's officers were attempting to climb
over this mass of bodies in order to enter the city; from the interior, the
baffled and fugitive remnant of their comrades were attempting to force
their passage through the same horrible barrier; while many dropped at,
every instant upon the heap of slain, under the blows of the unrelenting
burghers. On the other hand, Count Rochepot himself, to whom