d the post, till, by
his devotion, he had enabled all those of his compatriots who still
remained in the entrenchments to make good their retreat. He then plunged
into the sea, and, untouched by spear or bullet, effected his escape. Had
he been a Greek or a Roman, an Horatius or a Chabrias, his name would
have been famous in history--his statue erected in the market-place; for
the bold Dutchman on his dyke had manifested as much valor in a sacred
cause as the most classic heroes of antiquity.

This unsuccessful attempt to cut off the communication between Amsterdam
and the country strengthened the hopes of Alva. Several hundreds of the
patriots were killed or captured, and among the slain was Antony Oliver,
the painter, through whose agency Louis of Nassau had been introduced
into Mons. His head was cut off by two ensigns in Alva's service, who
received the price which had been set upon it of two thousand caroli. It
was then labelled with its owner's name, and thrown into the city of
Harlem. At the same time a new gibbet was erected in the Spanish camp
before the city, in a conspicuous situation, upon which all the prisoners
were hanged, some by the neck, some by the heels, in full view of their
countrymen. As usual, this especial act of cruelty excited the emulation
of the citizens. Two of the old board of magistrates, belonging to the
Spanish party, were still imprisoned at Harlem; together with seven other
persons, among whom was a priest and a boy of twelve years. They were now
condemned to the gallows. The wife of one of the ex-burgomasters and his
daughter, who was a beguin, went by his side as he was led to execution,
piously exhorting him to sustain with courage the execrations of the
populace and his ignominious doom. The rabble, irritated by such
boldness, were not satisfied with wreaking their vengeance on the
principal victims, but after the execution had taken place they hunted
the wife and daughter into the water, where they both perished. It is
right to record these instances of cruelty, sometimes perpetrated by the
patriots as well as by their oppressors--a cruelty rendered almost
inevitable by the incredible barbarity of the foreign invader. It was a
war of wolfish malignity. In the words of Mendoza, every man within and
without Harlem "seemed inspired by a spirit of special and personal
vengeance." The innocent blood poured out in Mechlin, Zutphen, Naarden,
and upon a thousand scaffolds, had been crying