By Pike and Dyke: a Tale of the Rise of the Dutch Republic

by G. A. Henty

Anjou retired with his army, losing a large number of men on his retreat by the bursting of a dyke and the flooding of the country. By this time the Prince of Orange had accepted the sovereignty of Holland and Zeeland, which was now completely separated from the rest of the Netherlands. After the flight of Anjou he received many invitations from the other provinces to accept their sovereignty; but he steadily refused, having no personal ambition, and knowing well that no reliance whatever could be placed upon the nobles of Brabant and Flanders.

CHAPTER XXI

THE SIEGE OF ANTWERP

On the 10th of July, 1584, a deep gloom was cast over all Holland and England, by the assassination of the Prince of Orange. Many attempts had been made upon his life by paid agents of the King of Spain. One had been nearly successful, and the prince had lain for weeks almost at the point of death. At last the hatred of Philip and Parma gained its end, and the prince fell a victim to the bullet of an assassin, who came before him disguised as a petitioner. His murderer was captured, and put to death with horrible tortures, boasting of his crime to the last. It was proved beyond all question that he, as well as the authors of the previous attempts, was acting at the instigation of the Spanish authorities, and had been promised vast sums in the event of his success.

Thus died the greatest statesman of his age; a pure patriot, a disinterested politician, a great orator, a man possessing at once immense talent, unbounded perseverance, a fortitude under misfortunes beyond proof, and an unshakeable faith in God. But terrible as was the blow to the Netherlands, it failed to have the effect which its instigators had hoped from it. On the very day of the murder the Estates of Holland, then sitting at Delft, passed a resolution "to maintain the good cause, with God's help, to the uttermost, without sparing gold or blood." The prince's eldest son had been kidnapped from school in Leyden by Philip's orders, and had been a captive in Spain for seventeen years under the tutorship of the Jesuits. Maurice, the next son, now seventeen years old, was appointed head of the States Council.

But the position of the Netherlands was still well nigh desperate. Flanders and Brabant lay at the feet of the Spaniards. A rising which had lately taken place had been crushed. Bruges had surrendered without a blow. The Duke of Parma, with 18,000 troops, besides his garrisons, was threatening Ghent, Mechlin, Brussels, and Antwerp, and was freely using promises and bribery to induce them to surrender. Dendermonde and Vilvoorde both opened their gates, the capitulation of the latter town cutting the communication between Brussels and Antwerp. Ghent followed the example and surrendered without striking a blow, and at the moment of the assassination of the Prince of Orange Parma's army was closing round Antwerp.

Sir Edward Martin was at Antwerp, where he had gone by the queen's order, when he received the news of the murder of the prince, whom he had seen a few days before. He was filled with grief and horror at the loss of one who had been for six years his friend, and whom he regarded with enthusiastic admiration. It seemed to him at first that with the death of the prince the cause of the Netherlands was lost, and had the former attempts of Philip's emissaries upon the prince's life been successful such a result would no doubt have followed; but the successful defence of their cities, and the knowledge they had gained that the sea could be made to fight for them, had given the people of Holland strength and hope. Their material resources, too, were larger than before, for great numbers of the Protestants from the other provinces had emigrated there, and had added alike to their strength and wealth. At first, however, the news caused something like despair in Antwerp. Men went about depressed and sorrowful, as if they had lost their dearest friend; but Sainte Aldegonde, who had been appointed by the prince to take charge of the defence of Antwerp, encouraged the citizens, and their determination to resist returned. Unfortunately there had already been terrible blundering. William de Blois, Lord of Treslong and Admiral of the fleet of Holland and Zeeland, had been ordered to carry up to the city provisions and munitions of war sufficient to last for a year, the money having been freely voted by the States General of these provinces.

But Treslong disobeyed the orders, and remained week after week at Ostend drinking heavily and doing nothing else. At last the States, enraged at his disobedience, ordered him to be arrested and thrown into prison; but this was too late to enable the needed stores to be taken up to Antwerp. The citizens were under no uneasiness. They believed that it was absolutely impossible to block the river, and that, therefore, they could at all times receive supplies from the coast. On both sides of the river below the town the land was low and could at any time be laid under water, and Sainte Aldegonde brought the Prince of Orange's instructions that the great dyke, called Blauwgaren, was to be pierced. This would have laid the country under water for miles, and even the blocking of the river would not have prevented the arrival of ships with provisions and supplies.

Unfortunately Sainte Aldegonde's power was limited. The Butchers' Guild rose against the proposal, and their leaders appeared before the magistrates and protested against the step being carried out. Twelve thousand cattle grazed upon the pastures which would be submerged, and the destruction of farms, homesteads, and orchards would be terrible. As to the blocking up of the river, the idea was absurd, and the operation far beyond the power of man. The butchers were supported by the officers of the militia, who declared that were the authorities to attempt the destruction of the dyke the municipal soldiery would oppose it by force.

Such was the state of things when the only man whom the democracy would listen to and obey fell by the assassin's knife, and his death and the obstinate stupidity of the burghers of Antwerp sealed the fate of the city. Sainte Aldegonde had hailed the arrival of Elizabeth's envoy, and consulted with him as to the steps to be taken for the defence of the city. He himself did not believe in the possibility of the river being stopped. It was nearly half a mile in width and sixty feet in depth, with a tidal rise and fall of eleven feet. Ned agreed with the governor or burgomaster--for this was Saint Aldegonde's title--that the work of blocking this river seemed impossible, but his reliance upon the opinion of the prince was so great that he did what he could towards persuading the populace to permit the plans to be carried out. But Elizabeth had so often disappointed the people of the Netherlands that her envoy possessed no authority, and the magistrates, with whom were the ward masters, the deans of all the guilds, the presidents of chambers and heads of colleges, squabbled and quarrelled among themselves, and nothing was done.