On his approach to the city by night a thick mist set in, and the column completely lost its way. The citizens had received news of its coming, and the church bells were rung and cannon fired to guide it as to its direction; but the column was so helplessly lost, that it at last wandered in among the Spaniards, who fell upon them, slew many and scattered the rest--a very few only succeeding in entering the town. Batenburgh brought off, under cover of the mist, a remnant of his troops, but all the provisions and ammunition were lost.
The second in command, De Koning, was among those captured. The Spaniards cut off his head and threw it over the wall into the city, with a paper fastened on it bearing the words: "This is the head of Captain De Koning, who is on his way with reinforcements for the good city of Haarlem." But the people of Haarlem were now strung up, both by their own peril and the knowledge of the atrocities committed by the Spaniards in other cities, to a point of hatred and fury equal to that of the foes, and they retorted by chopping off the heads of eleven prisoners and throwing them into the Spanish camp. There was a label on the barrel with these words, "Deliver these heads to Duke Alva in payment of his ten penny tax, with one additional head for interest."
The besieged were not content to remain shut up in the walls, but frequently sallied out and engaged in skirmishes with the enemy. Prisoners were therefore often captured by one side or the other, and the gibbets on the walls and in the camp were constantly occupied.
Ned as a volunteer was not attached to any special body of troops, Ripperda telling him to act for himself and join in whatever was going on as he chose. Consequently he took part in many of the skirmishes outside the walls, and was surprised to find how fearlessly the burghers met the tried soldiers of Spain, and especially at the valour with which the corps of women battled with the enemy.
In strength and stature most of the women were fully a match for the Walloon troops, and indeed for the majority of the Spaniards; and they never feared to engage any body of troops of equal numerical strength.
"Look here, aunt," Ned said to Frau Plomaert upon the day after the failure of Batenburg's force to relieve the town, "you must see for yourself now that the chances are that sooner or later the town will be captured. We may beat off all the assaults of the Spaniards, but we shall ere long have to fight with an even more formidable foe within the town. You know that our stock of provisions is small, and that in the end unless help comes we must yield to famine. The prince may possibly throw five thousand armed men into the town, but it is absolutely impossible that he can throw in any great store of provision, unless he entirely defeats the Spaniards; and nowhere in Holland can he raise an army sufficient for that.
"I think, aunt, that while there is time we ought to set to work to construct a hiding place, where you and the girls can remain while the sack and atrocities that will assuredly follow the surrender of the town are taking place."
"I shall certainly not hide myself from the Spaniards," Frau Plomaert said stoutly.
"Very well, aunt, if you choose to be killed on your own hearthstone of course I cannot prevent it; but I do say that you ought to save the girls from these horrors if you can."
"That I am ready to do," she said. "But how is it to be managed?"