The Golden Grasshopper: A story of the days of Sir Thomas Gresham

by William Henry Giles Kingston

We observed that not only the men who had formed the guard at the gate were armed, but so also were a large number of the persons who accompanied them. I remembered well the escape of fugitives I had many years before witnessed, when the Romanists, without remorse, attacked them. We were still some distance from the point of embarkation towards which the fugitives were making their way, when a shout from those still behind us reached our ears:

“The Spaniards are coming! Fly, friends, fly! the Spaniards are coming!”

We looked over our shoulders, and saw a body of horsemen sweeping along the road which led from one of the further gates of the city. They were galloping furiously, and by the glitter of their leader’s sword, which was pointed towards us, we were left in no doubt as to their intentions.

“Countrymen, we must stand and fight, and hold the ground till the women and children have embarked! Who will rally round me?” cried one of the fugitives.

The speaker was a sturdy artisan—a master blacksmith of the city, well-known for the valiant way in which he had, on more than one occasion, wielded his double-handled sword. Others repeated his call, and some fifty brave fellows collected together, forming a strong body across the road. Happily, in consequence of the number of canals and ditches, the horsemen were compelled to keep in the causeway, and were thus unable to cut off the fugitives by making a circuit in any other direction. We could not help answering to the brave blacksmith’s call, by joining those who rallied round him. The order was now given slowly to retreat, that we might afford ourselves a better chance of escaping after the women and children had embarked. The Spanish horse were drawing nearer and nearer. They were well-trained ruffians, whose swords had often been dyed in the blood of the unhappy Netherlanders, and no sensation of pity was likely to prevent them from slaughtering all they could now overtake. As they came within a hundred yards of us, their commander ordered them to charge.

“Slay! slay! cut down all your swords can reach!” we heard him shouting out.

We had a few pike-men with us, who, springing to the front, knelt down to receive the horses. Those with pistols formed the second rank, while those with arquebuses and musketoons drew up behind them. We thus presented a formidable front, while a deep ditch on either side prevented our being taken in flank. The Spaniards, nothing daunted, however, galloped forward. We received them firmly. Several saddles were emptied of their riders, and five or six of the leading horses slain or badly wounded. The bodies of the animals encumbering the road, prevented the advance of those in the rear, thus giving time to us to reload our fire-arms, while the Spanish commander, seeing that he could not break through our line, gave the order to his men to wheel about and retire. Several others were shot as they fled, but their fleet horses soon carried them out of reach of our fire-arms. On seeing this, our brave leader gave the order to his followers to retreat towards the boats. But before we had made good fifty yards, the Spaniards had once more wheeled about, and came galloping at a furious pace towards us. Again we threw ourselves into the same position as before. Thundering over the ground came the Spanish horsemen, with the determination of crushing us. The artisans of Antwerp, however, well-trained to arms, were not men to be cut down without fighting hard, when given the opportunity of resisting in a body. Still the Spaniards charged courageously, and several of the front rank were cut down, while others were killed or wounded by the discharge of their musketoons. The places of those who were killed were instantly supplied by others from the rear, and once more the cavalry had to retreat. At that instant a man came running up from the bank of the river, which was elevated considerably above the ground on which we stood, with the alarming intelligence that a body of musketeers was seen in the distance advancing towards us. Those dreaded musketeers! even the bravest well knew that we could not hope to withstand them! The possibility that Aveline might be among those we saw on the banks gave courage to my arm, and made me resolve to fight to the last, in order to stop the progress of the hated Spaniards. Once among that crowd of helpless women and children and old men, I knew too well the fearful havoc they would commit. The atrocities which they had been guilty of at Valenciennes and many other places were still too fresh in our memory not to be thought of. Once more, therefore, we retreated, facing the foe, who again galloped towards us.

On looking round as we approached the river’s bank, my worst apprehensions were realised, for there I recognised Captain Radford, though his back was turned towards me as he waved to a boat coming up the river to hasten onward. Our retreat had now become almost a flight, for our pike-men, not daring to kneel to receive the horsemen, were unable as before to drive them back. Headed by the blacksmith, however, the bravest of the party stood their ground, giving blow for blow as the horsemen rode among them. The latter must have been aware that the musketeers were advancing to their support, and this for very shame made them eager to finish the fight with the half-armed citizens with whom they were contending. The horsemen were approaching the spot where Captain Radford and his companions stood. Neither he nor Aveline, engaged in watching the progress of the boat, were aware of the near approach of danger. Though I shouted to them, amid the din of battle they did not hear my voice. Calling on A’Dale, therefore, I could no longer withstand the temptation of springing forward at all events to be by the side of Aveline, should the horsemen reach her, although our doing so might appear as if we were taking to flight. The moment was a fearful one. It seemed scarcely possible that any human power could save us. Although several of the troopers had been killed, still they were a strong body, and, rendered furious by their previous defeats, fought desperately, slashing on every side, and cutting down all their swords could meet. At a quick march the formidable musketeers were advancing towards us. The boats, by which alone we could escape, were not to be seen from where I stood. I could only hope, therefore, that they might be approaching. Still the brave blacksmith, surrounded by several of his workmen, stood his ground, not only defending himself with his formidable double-handled sword, but cutting down many of his opponents. This enabled A’Dale and me to rush up the bank. I called out Aveline’s name. She sprang towards me.

“I’ll fight for you to the last,” I said, pointing to the Spaniards.

Then, for the first time, I saw that the Falcon’s boats were only a short distance from the bank. A’Dale joined me, armed with an arquebus which he had taken from one of the Spaniards who had been shot. He had also provided himself with the man’s ammunition-pouch and belt.