Books: The Rise of the Dutch Republic, 1573 74
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John Lothrop Motley >> The Rise of the Dutch Republic, 1573 74
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Certainly, such language was not becoming the pen which wrote the famous
Compromise. The Prince himself was, however, not to be induced, even by
the captivity and the remonstrances of so valued a friend, to swerve from
the path of duty. He still maintained, in public and private, that the
withdrawal of foreign troops from the provinces, the restoration of the
old constitutional privileges, and the entire freedom of conscience in
religious matters, were the indispensable conditions of any pacification.
It was plain to him that the Spaniards were not ready to grant these
conditions; but he felt confident that he should accomplish the release
of Saint Aldegonde without condescending to an ignominious peace.
The most pressing matter, upon the Great Commander's arrival, was
obviously to relieve the city of Middelburg. Mondragon, after so stanch
a defence, would soon be obliged to capitulate, unless he should promptly
receive supplies. Requesens, accordingly, collected seventy-five ships
at Bergen op Zoom; which were placed nominally under the command of
Admiral de Glimes, but in reality under that of Julian Romero. Another
fleet of thirty vessels had been assembled at Antwerp under Sancho
d'Avila. Both, amply freighted with provisions, were destined to make
their way to Middelburg by the two different passages of the Hondo and
the Eastern Scheld. On the other hand, the Prince of Orange had repaired
to Flushing to superintend the operations of Admiral Boisot, who already;
in obedience to his orders, had got a powerful squadron in readiness at
that place. Late in January, 1574, d'Avila arrived in the neighbourhood
of Flushing, where he awaited the arrival of Romero's fleet. United,
the two Commanders were to make a determined attempt to reinforce the
starving city of Middelburg. At the same time, Governor Requesens made
his appearance in person at Bergen op Zoom to expedite the departure of
the stronger fleet, but it was not the intention of the Prince of Orange
to allow this expedition to save the city. The Spanish generals, however
valiant, were to learn that their genius was not amphibious, and that the
Beggars of the Sea were still invincible on their own element, even if
their brethren of the land had occasionally quailed.
Admiral Boisot's fleet had already moved up the Scheld and taken a
position nearly opposite to Bergen op Zoom. On the 20th of January the
Prince of Orange, embarking from Zierick Zee, came to make them a visit
before the impending action. His galley, conspicuous for its elegant
decorations, was exposed for some time to the artillery of the fort, but
providentially escaped unharmed. He assembled all the officers of his
armada, and, in brief but eloquent language, reminded them how necessary
it was to the salvation of the whole country that they should prevent the
city of Middelburg--the key to the whole of Zealand, already upon the
point of falling into the hands of the patriots--from being now wrested
from their grasp. On the sea, at least, the Hollanders and Zealanders
were at home. The officers and men, with one accord, rent the air with
their cheers. They swore that they would shed every drop of blood in
their veins but they would sustain the Prince and the country; and they
solemnly vowed not only to serve, if necessary, without wages, but to
sacrifice all that they possessed in the world rather than abandon the
cause of their fatherland. Having by his presence and his language
aroused their valor to so high a pitch of enthusiasm, the Prince departed
for Delft, to make arrangements to drive the Spaniards from the siege of
Leyden.
On the 29th of January, the fleet of Romero sailed from Bergen, disposed
in three divisions, each numbering twenty-five vessels of different
sizes. As the Grand Commander stood on the dyke of Schakerloo to witness
the departure, a general salute was fired by the fleet in his honor, but
with most unfortunate augury. The discharge, by some accident, set fire
to the magazines of one of the ships, which blew up with a terrible
explosion, every soul on board perishing. The expedition, nevertheless,
continued its way. Opposite Romerswael, the fleet of Boisot awaited
them, drawn up in battle array. As an indication of the spirit which
animated this hardy race, it may be mentioned that Schot, captain of
the flag-ship, had been left on shore, dying of a pestilential fever.
Admiral Boisot had appointed a Flushinger, Klaaf Klaafzoon, in his place.
Just before the action, however, Schot, "scarcely able to blow a feather
from his mouth," staggered on board his ship, and claimed the command.
There was no disputing a precedency which he had risen from his death-bed
to vindicate. There was, however, a short discussion, as the enemy's
fleet approached, between these rival captains regarding the manner in
which the Spaniards should be received. Klaafzoon was of opinion that
most of the men should go below till after the enemy's first discharge.
Schot insisted that all should remain on deck, ready to grapple with the
Spanish fleet, and to board them without the least delay.
The sentiment of Schot prevailed, and all hands stood on deck, ready with
boarding-pikes and grappling-irons.
The first division of Romero came nearer, and delivered its first
broadside, when Schot and Klaafzoon both fell mortally wounded. Admiral
Boisot lost an eye, and many officers and sailors in the other vessels
were killed or wounded. This was, however, the first and last of the
cannonading. As many of Romero's vessels as could be grappled within
the narrow estuary found themselves locked in close embrace with their
enemies. A murderous hand-to-hand conflict succeeded. Battle-axe,
boarding-pike, pistol, and dagger were the weapons. Every man who
yielded himself a prisoner was instantly stabbed and tossed into the sea
by the remorseless Zealanders. Fighting only to kill, and not to
plunder, they did not even stop to take the gold chains which many
Spaniards wore on their necks. It had, however, been obvious from the
beginning that the Spanish fleet were not likely to achieve that triumph
over the patriots which was necessary before they could relieve
Middelburg. The battle continued a little longer; but after fifteen
ships had been taken and twelve hundred royalists slain, the remainder of
the enemy's fleet retreated into Bergen. Romero himself, whose ship had
grounded, sprang out of a port-hole and swam ashore, followed by such of
his men as were able to imitate him. He landed at the very feet of the
Grand Commander, who, wet and cold, had been standing all day upon the
dyke of Schakerloo, in the midst of a pouring rain, only to witness the
total defeat of his armada at last.
"I told your Excellency," said Romero, coolly, as he climbed, all
dripping, on the bank, "that I was a land-fighter and not a sailor.
If you were to give me the command of a hundred fleets, I believe that
none of them would fare better than this has done." The Governor and his
discomfited, but philosophical lieutenant, then returned to Bergen, and
thence to Brussels, acknowledging that the city of Middelburg must fall,
while Sancho d'Avila, hearing of the disaster which had befallen his
countrymen, brought his fleet, with the greatest expedition, back to
Antwerp. Thus the gallant Mondragon was abandoned to his fate.
That fate could no longer be protracted. The city of Middelburg had
reached and passed the starvation point. Still Mondragon was determined
not to yield at discretion, although very willing to capitulate. The
Prince of Orange, after the victory of Bergen, was desirous of an
unconditional surrender, believing it to be his right, and knowing that
he could not be supposed capable of practising upon Middelburg the
vengeance which had been wreaked on Naarden, Zutfen, and Harlem.
Mondragon, however, swore that he would set fire to the city in twenty
places, and perish with every soldier and burgher in the flames together,
rather than abandon himself to the enemy's mercy. The prince knew that
the brave Spaniard was entirely capable of executing his threat. He
granted honorable conditions, which, on the 18th February, were drawn up
in five articles, and signed. It was agreed that Mondragon and his
troops should leave the place, with their arms, ammunition, and all their
personal property. The citizens who remained were to take oath of
fidelity to the Prince, as stadholder for his Majesty, and were to pay
besides a subsidy of three hundred thousand florins. Mondragon was,
furthermore, to procure the discharge of Saint Aldegonde, and of four
other prisoners of rank, or, failing in the attempt, was to return within
two months, and constitute himself prisoner of war. The Catholic priests
were to take away from the city none of their property but their clothes.
In accordance with this capitulation, Mondragon, and those who wished to
accompany him, left the city on the 21st of February, and were conveyed
to the Flemish shore at Neuz. It will be seen in the sequel that the
Governor neither granted him the release of the five prisoners, nor
permitted him to return, according to his parole. A few days afterwards,
the Prince entered the city, re-organized the magistracy, received the
allegiance of the inhabitants, restored the ancient constitution, and
liberally remitted two-thirds of the sum in which they had been, mulcted.
The Spaniards had thus been successfully driven from the Isle of
Walcheren, leaving the Hollanders and Zealanders masters of the sea-
coast. Since the siege of Alkmaar had been raised, however, the enemy
had remained within the territory of Holland. Leyden was closely
invested, the country in a desperate condition, and all communication
between its different cities nearly suspended. It was comparatively easy
for the Prince of Orange to equip and man his fleets. The genius and
habits of the people made them at home upon the water, and inspired them
with a feeling of superiority to their adversaries. It was not so upon
land. Strong to resist, patient to suffer, the Hollanders, although
terrible in defence; had not the necessary discipline or experience to
meet the veteran legions of Spain, with confidence in the open field.
To raise the siege of Leyden, the main reliance of the Prince was upon
Count Louis, who was again in Germany. In the latter days of Alva's
administration, William had written to his brothers, urging them speedily
to arrange the details of a campaign, of which he forwarded them a
sketch. As soon as a sufficient force had been levied in Germany, an
attempt was to be made upon Maestricht. If that failed, Louis was to
cross the Meuse, in the neighbourhood of Stochem, make his way towards
the Prince's own city of Gertruidenberg, and thence make a junction with
his brother in the neighbourhood of Delft. They were then to take up a
position together between Harlem and Leyden. In that case it seemed
probable that the Spaniards would find themselves obliged to fight at a
great disadvantage, or to abandon the country. "In short," said the
Prince, "if this enterprise be arranged with due diligence and
discretion, I hold it as the only certain means for putting a speedy end
to the war, and for driving these devils of Spaniards out of the country,
before the Duke of Alva has time to raise another army to support them."
In pursuance of this plan, Louis had been actively engaged all the
earlier part of the winter in levying troops and raising supplies.
He had been assisted by the French princes with considerable sums of
money, as an earnest of what he was in future to expect from that source.
He had made an unsuccessful attempt to effect the capture of Requesens,
on his way to take the government of the Netherlands. He had then passed
to the frontier of France, where he had held his important interview with
Catharine de Medici and the Duke of Anjou, then on the point of departure
to ascend the throne of Poland. He had received liberal presents, and
still more liberal promises. Anjou had assured him that he would go
as far as any of the German princes in rendering active and sincere
assistance to the Protestant cause in the Netherlands. The Duc
d'Alencon--soon, in his brother's absence, to succeed to the
chieftainship of the new alliance between the "politiques" and the
Huguenots--had also pressed his hand, whispering in his ear, as he did
so, that the government of France now belonged to him, as it had recently
done to Anjou, and that the Prince might reckon upon his friendship with
entire security.
These fine words, which cost nothing when whispered in secret, were not
destined to fructify into a very rich harvest, for the mutual jealousy
of France and England, lest either should acquire ascendency in the
Netherlands, made both governments prodigal of promises, while the common
fear entertained by them of the power of Spain rendered both languid;
insincere, and mischievous allies. Count John, however; was
indefatigable in arranging the finances of the proposed expedition,
and in levying contributions among his numerous relatives and allies in
Germany, while Louis had profited by the occasion of Anjou's passage into
Poland, to acquire for himself two thousand German and French cavalry,
who had served to escort that Prince, and who, being now thrown out of
employment, were glad to have a job offered them by a general who was
thought to be in funds. Another thousand of cavalry and six thousand
foot were soon assembled from those ever-swarming nurseries of mercenary
warriors, the smaller German states. With these, towards the end of
February; Louis crossed the Rhine in a heavy snow-storm, and bent his
course towards Maestricht. All the three brothers of the Prince
accompanied this little army, besides Duke Christopher, son of the
elector Palatine.
Before the end of the month the army reached the Meuse, and encamped
within four miles of Maestricht; on the opposite side of the river.
The garrison, commanded by Montesdoca, was weak, but the news of the
warlike preparations in Germany had preceded the arrival of Count Louis.
Requesens, feeling the gravity of the occasion, had issued orders for an
immediate levy of eight thousand cavalry in Germany, with a proportionate
number of infantry. At the same time he had directed Don Bernardino de
Mendoza, with some companies of cavalry, then stationed in Breda, to
throw himself without delay into Maestricht. Don Sancho d'Avila was
entrusted with the general care of resisting the hostile expedition.
That general had forthwith collected all the troops which could be spared
from every town where they were stationed, had strengthened the cities of
Antwerp, Ghent, Nimweben, and Valenciennes, where there were known to be
many secret adherents of Orange; and with the remainder of his forces had
put himself in motion, to oppose the entrance of Louis into Brabant, and
his junction with his brother in Holland. Braccamonte had been
despatched to Leyden, in order instantly to draw off the forces which
were besieging the city. Thus Louis had already effected something of
importance by the very hews of his approach.
Meantime the Prince of Orange had raised six thousand infantry, whose
rendezvous was the Isle of Bommel. He was disappointed at the paucity of
the troops which Louis had been able to collect, but he sent messengers
immediately to him; with a statement of his own condition, and with
directions to join him in the Isle of Bommel, as soon as Maestricht
should be reduced. It was, however, not in the destiny of Louis to
reduce Maestricht. His expedition had been marked with disaster from the
beginning. A dark and threatening prophecy had, even before its
commencement, enwrapped Louis, his brethren, and his little army, in a
funeral pall. More than a thousand of his men had deserted before he
reached the Meuse. When he encamped, apposite Maestricht, he found the
river neither frozen nor open, the ice obstructing the navigation, but
being too weak for the weight of an army. While he was thus delayed and
embarrassed, Mendoza arrived in the city with reinforcements. It seemed
already necessary for Louis to abandon his hopes of Maestricht, but he
was at least desirous of crossing the river in that neighbourhood, in
order to effect his junction with the Prince at the earliest possible
moment. While the stream was still encumbered with ice, however, the
enemy removed all the boats. On, the 3rd of March, Avila arrived with a
large body of troops at Maestricht, and on the 18th Mendoza crossed the
river in the night, giving the patriots so severe an 'encamisada', that
seven hundred were killed, at the expense of only seven of his own party.
Harassed, but not dispirited by these disasters, Louis broke up his camp
on the 21st, and took a position farther down the river, at Fauquemont
and Gulpen, castles in the Duchy of Limburg. On the 3rd of April,
Braccamonite arrived at Maestricht, with twenty-five companies of
Spaniards and three of cavalry, while, on the same day Mondragon reached
the scene of action with his sixteen companies of veterans.
It was now obvious to Louis, not only that he should not take Maestricht,
but that his eventual junction with his brother was at least doubtful,
every soldier who could possibly be spared seeming in motion to oppose
his progress. He was, to be sure, not yet outnumbered, but the enemy was
increasing, and his own force diminishing daily. Moreover, the Spaniards
were highly disciplined and experienced troops; while his own soldiers
were mercenaries, already clamorous and insubordinate. On the 8th of
April he again shifted his encaampment, and took his course along the
right bank of the Meuse, between that river and the Rhine, in the
direction of Nimwegen. Avila promptly decided to follow him upon the
opposite bank of the Meuse, intending to throw himself between Louis and
the Prince of Orange, and by a rapid march to give the Count battle,
before he could join his brother. On the 8th of April, at early dawn,
Louis had left the neighbourhood of Maestricht, and on the 13th he
encamped at the village of Mook near the confines of Cleves. Sending
out his scouts, he learned to his vexation, that the enemy had outmarched
him, and were now within cannonshot. On the 13th, Avila had constructed
a bridge of boats, over which he had effected the passage of the Meuse
with his whole army, so that on the Count's arrival at Mook, he found the
enemy facing him, on the same side of the river, and directly in his
path. It was, therefore, obvious that, in this narrow space between the
Waal and the Meuse, where they were now all assembled, Louis must achieve
a victory, unaided, or abandon his expedition, and leave the Hollanders
to despair. He was distressed at the position in which he found himself,
for he had hoped to reduce Maestricht, and to join, his brother in
Holland. Together, they could, at least, have expelled the Spaniards
from that territory, in which case it was probable that a large part of
the population in the different provinces would have risen. According to
present aspects, the destiny of the country, for some time to come, was
likely to hang upon the issue of a battle which he had not planned, and
for which he was not fully prepared. Still he was not the man to be
disheartened; nor had he ever possessed the courage to refuse a battle
when: offered. Upon this occasion it would be difficult to retreat
without disaster and disgrace, but it was equally difficult to achieve
a victory. Thrust, as he was, like a wedge into the very heart of a
hostile country, he was obliged to force his way through, or to remain in
his enemy's power. Moreover, and worst of all, his troops were in a
state of mutiny for their wages. While he talked to them of honor, they
howled to him for money. It was the custom of these mercenaries to
mutiny on the eve of battle--of the Spaniards, after it had been fought.
By the one course, a victory was often lost which might have been
achieved; by the other, when won it was rendered fruitless.
Avila had chosen his place of battle with great skill. On the right bank
of the Meuse, upon a narrow plain which spread from the river to a chain
of hills within cannon-shot on the north, lay the little village of Mook.
The Spanish general knew that his adversary had the superiority in
cavalry, and that within this compressed apace it would not be possible
to derive much advantage from the circumstance.
On the 14th, both armies were drawn up in battle array at earliest dawn,
Louis having strengthened his position by a deep trench, which extended
from Mook, where he had stationed ten companies of infantry, which thus
rested on the village and the river. Next came the bulk of his infantry,
disposed in a single square. On their right was his cavalry, arranged in
four squadrons, as well as the narrow limits of the field would allow. A
small portion of them, for want of apace, were stationed on the hill
side.
Opposite, the forces of Don Sancho were drawn up in somewhat similar
fashion. Twenty-five companies of Spaniards were disposed in four bodies
of pikemen and musketeers; their right resting on the river. On their
left was the cavalry, disposed by Mendoza in the form of a half moon-the
horns garnished by two small bodies of sharpshooters. In the front ranks
of the cavalry were the mounted carabineers of Schenk; behind were the
Spanish dancers. The village of Mook lay between the two armies.
The skirmishing began at early dawn, with an attack upon the trench, and
continued some hours, without bringing on a general engagement. Towards
ten o'clock, Count Louis became impatient. All the trumpets of the
patriots now rang out a challenge to their adversaries, and the Spaniards
were just returning the defiance, and preparing a general onset,
when the Seigneur de Hierges and Baron Chevreaux arrived on the field.
They brought with them a reinforcement of more than a thousand men, and
the intelligence that Valdez was on his way with nearly five thousand
more. As he might be expected on the following morning, a short
deliberation was held as to the expediency of deferring the action.
Count Louis was at the head of six thousand foot and two thousand
cavalry. Avila mustered only four thousand infantry and not quite a
thousand horse. This inferiority would be changed on the morrow into an
overwhelming superiority. Meantime, it was well to remember the
punishment endured by Aremberg at Heiliger Lee, for not waiting till
Meghen's arrival. This prudent counsel was, however, very generally
scouted, and by none more loudly than by Hierges and Chevreaux, who had
brought the intelligence. It was thought that at this juncture nothing
could be more indiscreet than discretion. They had a wary and audacious
general to deal with. While they were waiting for their reinforcements,
he was quite capable of giving them the slip. He might thus effect the
passage of the stream and that union with his brother which--had been
thus far so successfully prevented. This reasoning prevailed, and the
skirmishing at the trench was renewed with redoubled vigour, an
additional: force being sent against it. After a short and fierce
struggle it was carried, and the Spaniards rushed into the village, but
were soon dislodged by a larger detachment of infantry, which Count Louis
sent to the rescue. The battle now became general at this point.
Nearly all the patriot infantry were employed to defend the post; nearly
all the Spanish infantry were ordered to assail it. The Spaniards,
dropping on their knees, according to custom, said a Paternoster and an
Ave Mary, and then rushed, in mass, to the attack. After a short but
sharp conflict, the trench was again carried, and the patriots completely
routed. Upon this, Count Louis charged with all his cavalry upon the
enemy's horse, which had hitherto remained motionless. With the first
shock the mounted arquebusiers of Schenk, constituting the vanguard, were
broken, and fled in all directions. So great was their panic, as Louis
drove them before him, that they never stopped till they had swum or been
drowned in the river; the survivors carrying the news to Grave and to
other cities that the royalists had been completely routed. This was,
however, very far from the truth. The patriot cavalry, mostly
carabineers, wheeled after the first discharge, and retired to reload
their pieces, but before they were ready for another attack, the Spanish
lancers and the German black troopers, who had all remained firm, set
upon them with great spirit: A fierce, bloody, and confused action
succeeded, in which the patriots were completely overthrown.
Count Louis, finding that the day was lost, and his army cut to pieces,
rallied around him a little band of troopers, among whom were his
brother, Count Henry, and Duke Christopher, and together they made a
final and desperate charge. It was the last that was ever seen of them
on earth. They all went down together, in the midst of the fight, and
were never heard of more. The battle terminated, as usual in those
conflicts of mutual hatred, in a horrible butchery, hardly any of the
patriot army being left to tell the tale of their disaster. At least
four thousand were killed, including those who were slain on the field,
those who were suffocated in the marshes or the river, and those who were
burned in the farm-houses where they had taken refuge. It was uncertain
which of those various modes of death had been the lot of Count Louis,
his brother, and his friend. The mystery was never solved. They had,
probably, all died on the field; but, stripped of their clothing, with
their, faces trampled upon by the hoofs of horses, it was not possible to
distinguish them from the less illustrious dead. It was the opinion of,
many that they had been drowned in the river; of others, that they had
been burned.
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