Books: The Rise of the Dutch Republic, 1572 73
J >>
John Lothrop Motley >> The Rise of the Dutch Republic, 1572 73
The great bell was tolled, and orders were issued that all arms in the
possession of the garrison or the inhabitants should be brought to the
town-house. The men were then ordered to assemble in the cloister of
Zyl, the women in the cathedral. On the same day, Don Frederic,
accompanied by Count Bossu and a numerous staff, rode into the city.
The scene which met his view might have moved a heart of stone.
Everywhere was evidence of the misery which had been so bravely endured
during that seven months' siege. The smouldering ruins of houses, which
had been set on fire by balls, the shattered fortifications, the felled
trunks of trees, upturned pavements, broken images and other materials
for repairing gaps made by the daily cannonade, strewn around in all
directions, the skeletons of unclean animals from which the flesh had
been gnawed, the unburied bodies of men and women who had fallen dead in
the public thoroughfares--more than all, the gaunt and emaciated forms of
those who still survived, the ghosts of their former, selves, all might
have induced at least a doubt whether the suffering inflicted already
were not a sufficient punishment, even for crimes so deep as heresy and
schism. But this was far from being the sentiment of Don Frederic. He
seemed to read defiance as well as despair in the sunken eyes which
glared upon him as he entered the place, and he took no thought of the
pledge which he had informally but sacredly given.
All the officers of the garrison were at once arrested. Some of them
had anticipated the sentence of their conqueror by a voluntary death.
Captain Bordet, a French officer of distinction, like Brutus, compelled
his servant to hold the sword upon which he fell, rather than yield
himself alive to the vengeance of the Spaniards. Traits of generosity
were not wanting. Instead of Peter Hasselaer, a young officer who had
displayed remarkable bravery throughout the siege, the Spaniards by.
mistake arrested his cousin Nicholas. The prisoner was suffering himself
to be led away to the inevitable scaffold without remonstrance, when
Peter Hasselaer pushed his way violently through the ranks of the
captors. "If you want Ensign Hasselaer, I am the man. Let this innocent
person depart," he cried. Before the sun set his head had fallen. All
the officers were taken to the House of Kleef, where they were
immediately executed.--Captain Ripperda, who had so heroically rebuked
the craven conduct of the magistracy, whose eloquence had inflamed the
soldiers and citizens to resistance, and whose skill and courage had
sustained the siege so long, was among the first to suffer. A natural
son of Cardinal Granvelle, who could have easily saved his life by
proclaiming a parentage which he loathed, and Lancelot Brederode, an
illegitimate scion of that ancient house, were also among these earliest
victims.
The next day Alva came over to the camp. He rode about the place,
examining the condition of the fortifications from the outside, but
returned to Amsterdam without having entered the city. On the following
morning the massacre commenced. The plunder had been commuted for two
hundred and forty thousand guilders, which the citizens bound themselves
to pay in four instalments; but murder was an indispensable accompaniment
of victory, and admitted of no compromise. Moreover, Alva had already
expressed the determination to effect a general massacre upon this
occasion. The garrison, during the siege, had been reduced from four
thousand to eighteen hundred. Of these the Germans, six hundred in
number, were, by Alva's order, dismissed, on a pledge to serve no more
against the King. All the rest of the garrison were immediately
butchered, with at least as many citizens. Drummers went about the city
daily, proclaiming that all who harbored persons having, at any former
period, been fugitives, were immediately to give them up, on pain of
being instantly hanged themselves in their own doors. Upon these
refugees and upon the soldiery fell the brunt of the slaughter; although,
from day to day, reasons were perpetually discovered for putting to death
every individual at all distinguished by service, station, wealth, or
liberal principles; for the carnage could not be accomplished at once,
but, with all the industry and heartiness employed, was necessarily
protracted through several days. Five executioners, with their
attendants, were kept constantly at work; and when at last they were
exhausted with fatigue, or perhaps sickened with horror, three hundred
wretches were tied two and two, back to back, and drowned in the Harlem
Lake.
At last, after twenty-three hundred human creatures had been murdered in
cold blood, within a city where so many thousands had previously perished
by violent or by lingering deaths; the blasphemous farce of a pardon was
enacted. Fifty-seven of the most prominent burghers of the place were,
however, excepted from the act of amnesty, and taken into custody as
security for the future good conduct of the other citizens. Of these
hostages some were soon executed, some died in prison, and all would have
been eventually sacrificed, had not the naval defeat of Bossu soon
afterwards enabled the Prince of Orange to rescue the remaining
prisoners. Ten thousand two hundred and fifty-six shots had been
discharged against the walls during the siege. Twelve thousand of the
besieging army had died of wounds or disease, during the seven months and
two days, between the, investment and the surrender. In the earlier part
of August, after the executions had been satisfactorily accomplished, Don
Frederic made his triumphal entry, and the first chapter in the invasion
of Holland was closed. Such was the memorable siege of Harlem, an event
in which we are called upon to wonder equally at human capacity to
inflict and to endure misery.
The Spaniards celebrated a victory, while in Utrecht they made an effigy
of the Prince of Orange, which they carried about in procession, broke
upon the wheel, and burned. It was, however, obvious, that if the
reduction of Harlem were a triumph, it was one which the conquerors might
well exchange for a defeat. At any rate, it was certain that the Spanish
empire was not strong enough to sustain many more such victories. If it
had required thirty thousand choice troops, among which were three
regiments called by Alva respectively, the "Invincibles," the
"Immortals," and the "None-such," to conquer the weakest city of Holland
in seven months, and with the loss of twelve thousand men; how many men,
how long a time, and how many deaths would it require to reduce the rest
of that little province? For, as the sack of Naarden had produced the
contrary effect from the one intended, inflaming rather than subduing the
spirit of Dutch resistance, so the long and glorious defence of Harlem,
notwithstanding its tragical termination, had only served to strain to
the highest pitch the hatred and patriotism of the other cities in the
province. Even the treasures of the New World were inadequate to pay for
the conquest of that little sand-bank. Within five years, twenty-five
millions of florins had been sent from Spain for war expenses in the
Netherlands.--Yet, this amount, with the addition of large sums annually
derived from confiscations, of five millions, at which the proceeds of
the hundredth penny was estimated, and the two millions yearly, for which
the tenth and twentieth pence had been compounded, was insufficient to
save the treasury from beggary and the unpaid troops from mutiny.
Nevertheless, for the moment the joy created was intense. Philip was
lying dangerously ill at the wood of Segovia, when the happy tidings of
the reduction of Harlem, with its accompanying butchery, arrived. The
account of all this misery, minutely detailed to him by Alva, acted like
magic. The blood of twenty-three hundred of his fellow-creatures--coldly
murdered, by his orders, in a single city--proved for the sanguinary
monarch the elixir of life: he drank and was refreshed. "The principal
medicine which has cured his Majesty," wrote Secretary Cayas from Madrid
to Alva, "is the joy caused to him by the good news which you have
communicated of the surrender of Harlem." In the height of his
exultation, the King forgot how much dissatisfaction he had recently
felt with the progress of events in the Netherlands; how much treasure
had been annually expended with an insufficient result. "Knowing your
necessity," continued Cayas, "his Majesty instantly sent for Doctor
Velasco, and ordered him to provide you with funds, if he had to descend
into the earth to dig for it." While such was the exultation of the
Spaniards, the Prince of Orange was neither dismayed nor despondent. As
usual, he trusted to a higher power than man. "I had hoped to send you
better news," he wrote, to Count Louis, "nevertheless, since it has
otherwise pleased the good God, we must conform ourselves to His divine
will. I take the same God to witness that I have done everything
according to my means, which was possible, to succor the city." A few
days later, writing in the same spirit, he informed his brother that the
Zealanders had succeeded in capturing the castle of Rammekens, on the
isle of Walcheren. "I hope," he said, "that this will reduce the pride
of our enemies, who, after the surrender of Harlem, have thought that
they were about to swallow us alive. I assure myself, however, that they
will find a very different piece of work from the one which they expect."
ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
Enthusiasm could not supply the place of experience
Envying those whose sufferings had already been terminated
Leave not a single man alive in the city, and to burn every house
Not strong enough to sustain many more such victories
Oldenbarneveld; afterwards so illustrious
Sent them word by carrier pigeons
Three hundred fighting women
Tyranny, ever young and ever old, constantly reproducing herself
Wonder equally at human capacity to inflict and to endure misery