he Spaniards in theirs. The
Spaniards were enemies against whom the city had long been on its guard.
The French were friends in whose sincerity a somewhat shaken confidence
had just been restored. When the Spanish attack was made, a large force
of defenders was drawn up in battle array behind freshly strengthened
fortifications. When the French entered at leisure through a scarcely
guarded gate, the whole population and garrison of the town were quietly
eating their dinners. The numbers of the invading forces on the two
occasions did not materially differ; but at the time of the French Fury
there was not a large force of regular troops under veteran generals to
resist the attack. Perhaps this was the main reason for the result, which
seems at first almost inexplicable. For protection against the Spanish
invasion, the burghers relied on mercenaries, some of whom proved
treacherous, while the rest became panic-struck. On the present occasion
the burghers relied on themselves. Moreover, the French committed the
great error of despising their enemy. Recollecting the ease with which
the Spaniards had ravished the city, they believed that they had nothing
to do but to enter and take possession. Instead of repressing their
greediness, as the Spaniards had done, until they had overcome
resistance, they dispersed almost immediately into by-streets, and
entered warehouses to search for plunder. They seemed actuated by a fear
that they should not have time to rifle the city before additional troops
should be sent by Anjou to share in the spoil. They were less used to the
sacking of Netherland cities than were the Spaniards, whom long practice
had made perfect in the art of methodically butchering a population at
first, before attention should be diverted to plundering, and
supplementary outrages. At any rate, whatever the causes, it is certain
that the panic, which upon such occasions generally decides the fate of
the day, seized upon the invaders and not upon the invaded, almost from
the very first. As soon as the marauders faltered in their purpose and
wished to retreat, it was all over with them. Returning was worse than
advance, and it was the almost inevitable result that hardly a man
escaped death or capture.

The Duke retreated the same day in the direction of Denremonde, and on
his way met with another misfortune, by which an additional number of his
troops lost their lives. A dyke was cut by the Mechlin citizens to impede