Alba's severity for the moment paralysed all resistance on land, and only those "sea beggars," who afterwards secured the independence of the Netherlands, kept alive the tradition of Flemish patriotism. Some of the Spanish troops could therefore be dispensed with, particularly as Philip's treasury was empty of money to pay them, and many found their way back to Spain again. Amongst these was Julian Romero, who had married a wife of his own province a few years before (1565), and yearned for a spell of family joys far from war's alarms. His time of rest was but a short one. He was marked out now conspicuously as one of the most unscrupulous of Alba's officers, who could be depended upon in any emergency, and who was fanatically loyal to his sovereign and the faith for which he was fighting. An instance of this is given by Don Bernardino de Mendoza.[[8]] Certain soldiers under that officer were in treaty to enter into the service of the King of France—not a very great offence, one would think, in the eyes of Julian, who had himself served the King of England—and Alba, desirous of appearing impartial, had decided that the three ringleaders should be tried by their own comrades, appointing Julian as president of the tribunal. He sentenced them all to be shot, and on the decision being submitted to Alba, the latter made a long speech in praise of such severity, and highly commended Romero for his inflexibility. Philip was contemplating a job that called for such a man as this. He had been driven to desperation by Elizabeth's protection of the rebel Flemish privateers, and her seizure of his treasure, and had effusively welcomed Thomas Stukeley when he arrived in Madrid in 1570 with proposals for the invasion of Ireland and the raising of the country in favour of Philip. This would, at all events, keep Elizabeth's hands full, and Philip, being misled as to Stukeley's standing and influence, treated him with great honour. He had a large pension granted to him and a palace to reside in; he was made a Spanish knight, and Julian Romero, amongst others, was invited to confer with him as to the plans for the subjugation of Ireland. It was decided that Romero should take command of the expedition, if it were sent, and English spies soon got hold of the news and communicated it to the Queen. Philip was not long in finding out that Stukeley was a mere windbag, and very coolly got rid of him as soon as possible; but for many months after the Spanish king had abandoned the idea, when indeed he was in such straits us hardly to be able to hold his own, the dreaded name of Julian Romero was in everybody's mouth as the coming avenger of Philip's grievances against the English queen and her ministers.
One zealous spy named Reynolds Digby writes to Cecil from St. Jean de Luz on December 28, 1570, telling him of "the subtle and devilish practices against his country," and saying that the Duke of Medina Celi and Julian Romero had already embarked "a great store of ordnance for battery and field, great numbers of copper ovens, baskets, mattocks, and other stores, with 100 mule loads of money, the object being to go to Flanders, ship Alba and his army, and sail to Scotland for the purpose of attacking it and seizing the King."[[9]] There was no truth in it, but on the 25th of January, 1571, another spy named Hogan, living in Madrid, wrote saying that Romero was going to Ireland with 6,000 soldiers.[[10]] Walsingham, in Paris, reports the same news as being brought by French agents from Madrid, and the Spanish ambassador in England, evidently believed it, although he pretended not to do so, in his interviews with the English ministers.[[11]] Elizabeth herself was much alarmed, and wrote to Walsingham,[[12]] telling him to see the Spanish ambassador in Paris (Francés de Alava), and say "that she cannot believe the news sent her that there is an intention of sending Julian Romero or such like with a number of soldiers to Ireland to follow some vain device of these rebels, and she much wonders that the King should give credit to such a man as Stukeley, about whom no good can be said." The haughty Don Frances ("the proudest man I ever met," says Walsingham) told him that he had never heard of Stukeley, "and as for any attempts by Julian Romero to be done in Ireland, they were no Spaniards who had that enterprise in hand"—which was quite true, for Philip never intended to send a Spanish force, and indeed when, years after, he did aid an expedition, he ordered that all the commanders should be Italians.[[13]]
Philip wanted Romero for more important work than aiding Stukeley's hairbrained schemes. Alba was now face to face with a people in arms in Holland and Zeeland, under one of the greatest men of his age, the Prince of Orange. Cruel severity had only goaded the Netherlanders to desperation, and Alba, old and ill, felt that his method had failed. He was begging to be relieved from the conduct of the war, and the Duke of Medina Celi was sent to replace him, with Julian Romero in command of the reinforcements which accompanied him. Medina Celi himself never took possession of his vice-royalty, for Alba was too jealous to give it up, now that his health was somewhat better, and the fresh troops sent enabled him to act more vigorously; but Julian Romero got to work as soon as he set foot on shore. He had been partially disabled by a severe wound in the leg, but landed his men at the Sluys and at once joined Don Fadrique, Alba's son, before Mons; and on the 17th of July, 1572, only a few weeks after he landed, he led the first charge of the battle in which Fadrique beat the French Huguenot force who were trying to relieve Mons. Fadrique wrote to his father from the battlefield in enthusiastic praise of Julian, whom he coupled with the famous Italian General Chapin Vitelli, who, although severely wounded, behaved with great bravery. Unfortunately most of Genlis' troops that were captured were murdered in cold blood afterwards, it is to be feared with Julian Romero's full acquiescence, if nothing worse. He was now an important personage since his sojourn at Philip's Court, and in a letter to the King's secretary, Zayas, dated before Mons, August 23, 1572,[[14]] writes a full account of the state of affairs, in the wording of which there are now and again signs that he was still a bluff soldier.
"Holland," he says, "looks as ugly as ever, Friesland no better, and Zeeland much worse, but I look upon it all as nothing by the side of this Mons business, upon which I have set my heart. If we can only stop up this hole in the frontier the rest is only so much air; although we shall sweat if we are to camp before Mons all the winter, for we shall have to fight on skates." Julian's fears were groundless. The grim news of St. Bartholomew convinced the citizens of Mons that no help could reach them from the French Protestants, and only a month afterwards—the 22nd of September, 1572—Romero wrote a long account to Zayas of the surrender of the devoted town, which "he says we were very fortunate to get by surrender, for no troops but Spaniards could have taken it, so strong is it, and of Spaniards we have very few."
Then, swift and relentless as a thunderbolt, came Alba's vengeance on the southern provinces of Flanders, hopeless of succour now either from Orange or the French. Every town was to support a Spanish garrison or be put to the sword, and of all the cruel instruments for the work none were so much in tune with the mastermind as was Julian Romero. The rebel garrisons of most of the little towns had fled, there was but slight resistance, and Fadrique, on his march from Zutphen to Amsterdam in November, summoned the town of Naarden to admit the Spanish troops into the place. Some demur was made to this, but a few days afterwards the principal men of the town were sent after Fadrique, afraid of their own boldness, to discuss terms for submission. They were refused an interview, and told that a force had already been ordered to Naarden to compel compliance. The citizens, panic-stricken at the news, sent a deputation to offer complete unconditional submission, but before they could reach Fadrique's headquarters at Bussem they met Julian Romero on his way to Naarden, who told them that he had full authority to treat. Arrived at the town, he demanded the keys, which were surrendered to him on his solemn promise that the lives and properties of the townsfolk should be respected. He gave (says Hoofd, the historian) his hand thrice as a pledge of this, and no written pledge was exacted of him. From what we know of Julian Romero's temper we can well imagine this. Romero and his 600 harquebussiers entered the town and were hospitably received. A great feast was spread to do them honour at Burgomaster Gerrit's house. When the banquet was finished Romero collected his men in the great square and summoned the citizens to a conference in the town hall. The bell rang, and the citizens came, all unsuspecting, to hear the conditions imposed upon them; but when they were met, to the number of about six hundred, in the hall, Romero gave a signal at the door and his Spaniards fired a volley upon the closely packed crowd of unarmed men. Thenceforward the little town was a shambles; men, women, and children were all murdered amidst scenes of the most heartrending atrocity, and even infants were made sport of, being cast by the pikemen from spear to spear. The Burgomaster was roasted until he gave up all his fortune as ransom, and was then hanged at his own door-post in the presence of Romero and Don Fadrique, who had arrived the day after the massacre. Motley, who takes his account from Hoofd, has not added anything to the horror of the story, and it is confirmed by Alba himself in a letter to the King, saying, "They cut the throats of them all, soldiers and townspeople alike, without leaving a single soul alive." Strada says that this massacre had an entirely opposite effect to that expected. It aroused such fury and hate all over Flanders and Holland as to double the difficulty of Alba's task. Strada makes as light of it as possible, but even he says, "It really seems as if the vengeance wrought exceeded the fault. All the inhabitants alike, innocent and guilty, were killed, the houses burnt, the walls razed, and it looked more like a crime than a punishment."[[15]]
But Holland and Zeeland were made of different stuff to South Flanders, and the massacre of Naarden only caused Haarlem to be more obstinate in its determination to hold out at any cost. Fadrique and his army were before it in the bitter winter of 1572, and it became necessary for him to ensure an open passage between him and Utrecht, whence he drew his supplies. This was interfered with by a rebel fort on the outskirts of Haarlem, near the opposite bank of the Sparen to that upon which the road lay. This fort was flanked on two sides by water—on the one side, where the river was narrow, the defences were impregnable; whilst on the other flank, where the stream opened out and was considered impassable, the fort was otherwise undefended. Early in December spies reported to Fadrique that at certain states of the tide the broad water might be forded and the fort attacked by surprise on its undefended side. His letter to his father detailing how this was done is still at Simancas.[[16]] He says that at daybreak he sent Julian Romero with 400 picked harquebussiers to attempt the task. Count Bossu and other experienced soldiers had said that it was impossible, but Romero insisted upon attempting it. The water reached above the knees of the men, and the ice had to be broken at every step; the ford was very narrow, and a false step precipitated the armed men into deep water. The men in the fort discovered them and opened fire, and for a full hour they thus skirmished in the frozen river, when they found that a rebel force from the town, equal to their own, had crossed the river on the ice higher up, and were attacking them from their own bank, so that they were between two fires. Romero drew his men out of the river, charged the new force and drove them back over the ice again. But in their flight they showed him the way across the ice as well, and how by that road the undefended side of the fort might be reached. With incredible dash he crossed after them and stormed the fort on that side, carried it with pike and musket only, and, as Fadrique tells the Duke, cut the throat of every man who did not escape by flight. Fadrique is quite enthusiastic about Romero's share in the affair. The "heretics," he says, showed surprising bravery, and the fort was of enormous strength—"the best I ever saw." "I thought we were fighting beasts, but I find we have to do with men." "Colonel Julian has carried himself in this action as splendidly as he always does and is as eager as ever to serve his Majesty. He marched for a good league and half with the water over his knees, skirmishing with the fort, before the Haarlem force came. Just think of it, your Excellency; marching like this with such a leg as Julian's! I can assure you that a better soldier than he for dash and enterprise never came from our country. Pray thank him warmly for he richly deserves it." Only a few days later Julian was once more to the fore. Lumay, Count de la Mark, made an attempt to relieve Haarlem with a large force, but was beaten by the Spaniards, "Julian with his regiment," we are told by an anonymous eyewitness,[[17]] "leading the attack in front of every one." Encouraged by this victory, the Spaniards a week afterwards—the 20th of December, 1572—attempted to take the place by storm, but were unsuccessful. Julian was standing on a trench directing operations when a musket-shot destroyed one of his eyes, but even that did not put him hors de combat for long, for he writes to the Duke's secretary, Albernoz, on the 13th of the next month (January, 1573) from Amsterdam: "I have been impatiently expecting Illan's arrival, in order that I might go to the front, but if he comes not I am determined I will wait no longer, but will set out to-morrow; for I see that things are now going to begin in real earnest. I am pretty well, but not so well as I want to be to serve Don Fadrique; but I will do so with all my poor strength, standing or falling. He has sent me word that I must go and lodge in his quarters or he will burn mine down over my head. I will obey him in this as in all things, and although I know full well I shall not lack for dainties there, I will not spare you from sending me the other box of marmalade you promised me, as the one you sent is half gone already."
For the next six months each step in the terrible siege of Haarlem is related in the letters from Don Fadrique, Caspar de Robles, and Romero himself. Wherever fighting was going on Colonel Julian was always in the front rank, and we hear of him creeping forward from month to month nearer to the devoted city as death and famine make it weaker. Romero's own letter to Alba of the 25th of May, 1573,[[18]] gives the best account I have read of the incidents of the siege from the Spanish point of view, although neither that nor any other of the series I have mentioned appears ever to have been utilised by historians. When at last, in July, 1575, the famished heroes in the city surrendered, Julian Romero was deputed to accompany Count Bossu to the wood where the submission was to be arranged, and himself to hold the town gate that no soul should issue therefrom without due warrant. Of the cruel massacre of the starving people which followed Julian Romero does not boast, but it may be not uncharitably assumed that he played his usual sympathetic part in it. Certain it is that no sooner was it over than Colonel Julian, with an army of 4,000 men, commenced his fell march over Holland. Mendoza[[19]] says: "Julian entered by the Dunes as far as the Hague, taking Catwyk, Walkemburg, Wassenaer, Naeldwyk, St. Geradique, Squelpewyk Noortwyk, Vlaerdingen, the fort of Mansendus, where he cut the throats of St. Aldegonde and 600 men, Minister, Gravesande, &c." And then he went towards Leyden, which was being besieged by Valdes. Morgan, writing to Lord Burleigh from Delft[[20]] on the 12th of November, 1575, represents the Dutch burghers as completely cowed for the moment by Romero's ferocity. He says: "Julian with his 4,000 men is entrenched half-way between the Hague and Delft, cutting off all communication between the latter place and Leyden."
But by this time Alba felt that cruelty had failed to crush Orange and the Zeelanders, supported as they were by England and helped by the German princes; and sated as even he was of blood, he determined to give up the struggle and allow another policy to be tried. Romero was tired of it too, and wished to retire with his chief. Alba himself wrote to the King from Brussels on the 15th of December, 1573.[[21]] "Colonel Julian Romero has served here in the way your Majesty has been informed. He had returned here from Holland, determined to go to Spain and beseech your Majesty to allow him to rest at home, seeing that he has served for 40 years. When your Majesty's letter for him had been handed to him and I had myself impressed upon him how much he would be missed here at the present juncture, he consented to send Captain Illan to Spain on his private affairs, whilst he still remains in the service here. I pray your Majesty to take such measures for rewarding Julian's many services as they deserve. I can assure you that what he has done in this campaign alone places your Majesty under a deep obligation to him. He is one of the most useful men of his quality that I have ever known, and I shall warmly welcome any mark of favour your Majesty may confer upon him."
Romero's own letter to the King to accompany this plainly tells how much the hard old soldier yearned for rest. "I have been," he says, "in your Majesty's service now in this guise for well-nigh forty years, without leaving it for a single hour; my work in this campaign has been, as your Majesty knows, extremely hard, and as I have lost the full use of my legs, arms, and eyes, I besought the Duke to give me leave to go home, which he did. When I went to Brussels to take leave of him a letter was handed to me from your Majesty ordering me not to leave these States. I obey your Majesty's orders, but the Duke and the Grand Commander (Requesens) have given me leave to send Captain Illan to beg your Majesty personally to let me go and see my home again. I need greatly to go, as is proved by my asking to do so now, for otherwise I would not even go if I had leave."