Lysbeth, a Tale of the DutchHaggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
History
Lysbeth, a Tale of the Dutch
Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
Netherlands -- History -- House of Habsburg, 1477-1556 -- Fiction
Then there were other horrors; cold from insufficient fuel, pestilences
of various sorts such as always attend a siege, and, worst of all for
the beleaguered, hunger. Week by week as the summer aged, the food grew
less and less, till at length there was nothing. The weeds that grew in
the street, the refuse of tanneries, the last ounce of offal, the mice
and the cats, all had been devoured. On the lofty steeple of St. Bavon
for days and days had floated a black flag to tell the Prince of Orange
in Leyden that below it was despair as black. The last attempt at
succour had been made. Batenburg had been defeated and slain, together
with the Seigneurs of Clotingen and Carloo, and five or six hundred
men. Now there was no more hope.
Desperate expedients were suggested: That the women, children, aged and
sick should be left in the city, while the able-bodied men cut a way
through the battalions of their besiegers. On these non-combatants it
was hoped that the Spaniard would have mercy—as though the Spaniard
could have mercy, he who afterwards dragged the wounded and the ailing
to the door of the hospital and there slaughtered them in cold blood;
aye, and here and elsewhere, did other things too dreadful to write
down. Says the old chronicler, “But this being understood by the women,
they assembled all together, making the most pitiful cries and
lamentations that could be heard, the which would have moved a heart of
flint, so as it was not possible to abandon them.”
Next another plan was formed: that all the females and helpless should
be set in the centre of a square of the fighting men, to march out and
give battle to the foe till everyone was slain. Then the Spaniards
hearing this and growing afraid of what these desperate men might do,
fell back on guile. If they would surrender, the citizens of Haarlem
were told, and pay two hundred and forty thousand florins, no
punishment should be inflicted. So, having neither food nor hope, they
listened to the voice of the tempter and surrendered, they who had
fought until their garrison of four thousand was reduced to eighteen
hundred men.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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