“When each nation had passed the channel, each of them began with like emulation to force the ravelins and half–moons which sheltered the counterscarp. And the Walloons and Burgonians, by reason of their quarter, were the first that did it, but with much effusion of blood, even of the noblest amongst them; for amongst the rest, Catris, a Walloon campmaster, was lost; a valiant and greatly experienced soldier, and whom Spinola highly esteemed, both for his deeds and counsel. With the like progress, and no less loss of blood, did the other nations advance. So as the enemies at last lost all the fortifications which they had without their principal line; about which a great ditch ran, but not so hard to pass as was the channel which fenced the counterscarp. The easier doing of it made the Catholics hope better in the effecting thereof; wherefore, full of fresh courage, they prepared to continue their labours more heartily than ever, that they might the sooner end the siege; but the winter being already come on did much injure their works, and the sea did then more destroy them by her tempests. The enemy did likewise make very fierce opposition; they set up batteries within against the batteries without; mines opposed countermines; they repaired themselves on all sides, and as fast as one rampire was lost they set up another. So as the Catholics were to advance by inchmeal; and yet they did so advance, as by the spring they were got well forward into the ditch.
“These already progressions of Marquis Spinola, together with his still daily proceedings, made the United Provinces shrewdly afraid that they should at last lose Ostend. It was therefore consulted amongst their chief commanders how the town might be best preserved: which might be done by two ways; either by some important diversion, or by raising the siege by main force. The second affair brought with it such difficulties, as the first was embraced. Wherefore they resolved to besiege Sluce; a town which likewise stood upon the sea, and of so great consequence, as did rather exceed than come short of those of Ostend.”
Sluys was accordingly besieged and taken, to the great satisfaction of the Flemish, that, in three months’ time and with the loss of so little blood, they had made a greater acquisition than that of Ostend, which would cost above three years’ expense of time, and an infinity of Spanish gold and blood, if it could hold out no longer. But though Spinola made an unsuccessful attempt to relieve Sluys, he could not be prevailed on to break up the siege of Ostend, and his troops were inflamed the more by a desire of counterbalancing that loss. So that at last, after much slaughter, they won the ditch and the first line of fortifications; but meanwhile a new one had been raised by those within.
“Sluce was just then lost: and it was feared that Count Maurice would come to the relief of Ostend. The Catholics being therefore so much the more moved, and Spinola being again returned, it is not to be expressed with what fervour they fell to their works on all sides. The greatest progress was made towards the old town of Ostend; and because when they should have won that, they might easily hinder the entrance into the channel, by the mouth whereof succour was brought from the sea; and for that the new town was much commanded by the old, therefore Spinola did the more reinforce his batteries, assaults, mines, and all his other most efficacious works on that side than on any other; nor was it long ere the Catholics had almost wholly taken it.
“They likewise advanced after the same manner against the new fortifications, so as now the besieged had no where whither to retreat; wherefore, wanting ground to defend, when they most abounded in all things for defence, they were at last forced to surrender the town; which was done about the midst of September, upon all the most honourable conditions that they could desire. Count Maurice was often minded to attempt the succour by main force; but considering that he was to enter into an enemy’s country, amongst strong and well–guarded towns, and that he should meet with men that were very ready to fight, he thought it not fit, after his prosperous success at Sluce, to hazard falling into some misfortune, as upon such an occasion he might peradventure do, and therefore he forebore to do it. It was a remarkable thing to see so many soldiers march out of a town; for there were above four thousand of them, all strong and healthful, they having enjoyed great plenty of all things in Ostend, by reason of their continual succours. So as besides great store of artillery, there was found in the town such abundance of victuals, ammunition, and of whatsoever else may be imagined for the defence of a royal town, as the like was never known to be in any other place.
“Thus ended the siege of Ostend; very memorable, doubtless, in itself, but much more in consideration of the so great expense of monies and time which the winning and losing of it cost. The siege continued above three years; in which time the constant opinion was, that there died, what by the sword, what by sickness, above a hundred thousand men between the one and the other side; whereby it may be conceived what proportionable monies and other things were therein spent. The town being yielded up, the Archduke and Infanta had the curiosity to go see it, and went from Gaunt thither, where they found nothing but a misshapen chaos of earth, which hardly retained any show of the first Ostend. Ditches filled up; curtains beaten down; bulwarks torn in pieces; half–moons, flanks, and redoubts so confused one with another, as one could not be distinguished from another; nor could it be known on which side the oppugnation, or on which side the defence was; yet they would know all, and receive the whole relation from Spinola’s own mouth. He represented at full the last posture of the siege: he showed the Spaniards’ quarters, and that of the Italians, as also those of each other nation. He related how stoutly they contended who should outvie one another in painstaking; on which part the greatest resistance was made within: where the dispute was most difficult without; where they wanted ground to retreat unto; where the enemy used their utmost power; and where at last the town was surrendered. The Archduke saw the great platform, the great dyke, and whatsoever else of curious might be suggested by the unusual face of that siege; but not without the Infanta’s great compassion, and even almost tears, by looking upon the horror of those parts where the sword, fire, sea, and earth may be said to have conspired together in making so long and so miserable a destruction of Christians. They both of them did very much commend Spinola, and did also thank the rest of the commanders who had deserved well in that enterprise. Nor did they less gratulate the inferior officers and soldiers, who had exposed themselves most to those dangers.”[26]
Remarkable in modern history is the siege and storm of Magdeburg in the thirty years’ war by the Imperial troops, commanded by Tilly, when that general blighted the laurels acquired in thirty–six successful battles, and fixed an indelible stain upon his reputation. Even poetical justice might be satisfied by the events of his after–life, which, from a series of victories became one of reverses, produced in part, at least, by his own act, if it be true that the excesses perpetrated on this occasion produced a lasting bad effect on the discipline of his army. But, on the plains of Leipzic, in the person of Gustavus Adolphus, he met at length with his superior in the art of war.
“I must now arm my breast with sternness, my heart with impenetrability, while I relate the events which broke in foaming billows over this wretched city,—events, for their magnitude, extraordinary: for their mournfulness, but too calamitous; for their importance, rarely known in former ages; and for their rarity, easily unheard of. So may this mind be able to recite the reverses, the tragic incidents which in this our age, by inevitable destiny, have oppressed Magdeburg, a city of the empire, powerful and strong as ancient,—this pen endure through the description of such horrid destruction. But whence to commence the tempests of so pitiable an event? whence seek those dreadful varieties of punishment, for the relation of which all Germany is scarce sufficient? I am far from thinking that with this pen I can do justice to so mournful, so extraordinary a calamity. For he who would worthily express a catastrophe, which will amaze furthest posterity, must needs be qualified by an iron memory, a strong and unconquered style, since it is his duty to find words answerable to actions.”[27]
The modest doubts expressed in the above rather pompous passage have not restrained the historian, from whom we quote, from proving, in a long and tedious narrative, that he justly estimated the relative extent of his subject and his powers. We purpose to take warning by his example, and act upon the diffidence which he expresses. The reader is as capable of imagining, as the author, unless an eye–witness, of describing, the behaviour of soldiers flushed with rage and blood let loose upon an unarmed population: and either is likely to produce but a confused picture, made up chiefly by ringing the changes upon what the author of ‘Old Mortality’ calls “the four pleas of the crown.” Instead, therefore, of multiplying anecdotes of brutality and suffering, we shall only give the narratives of two eyewitnesses, the simplicity of which is a guarantee for their truth. The first is written by the minister of a church in Magdeburg. It is necessary to premise that the assault was made at daybreak, as the hour when the garrison were most likely to be off their guard, and at a time when a general belief was entertained that Tilly was about to break up the siege. It was therefore entirely unexpected.
“Going out of church immediately after sermon, some people of St. James’s parish passed by, and told me the enemy had entered the town. With difficulty could I persuade myself that this was anything more than a false alarm; but the news unfortunately proved too true. I then lost my presence of mind, and as my wife and maid–servant were with me, we ran directly to my colleague, M. Malsio’s house, and left our own house open. At M. Malsio’s we found many people, who had fled to him in great perplexity. We comforted and exhorted each other, as far as the terror of our minds would give us leave. I was summoned thence to discharge the last duties to a colonel, who lay dangerously wounded. I resolved to go, and sent my maid to fetch my gown: but before my departure from my wife and neighbours, I told them that the affair appeared to me to be concluded, and that we should meet no more in this world. My wife reproached me in a flood of tears, crying, ‘Can you prevail on yourself to leave me to perish all alone? You must answer for it before God!’ I represented to her the obligations of my function, and the importance of the moments I was called upon to give my assistance in.