by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER XXII.
OLD FRIENDS.
The succession of blows that had been given to the power and commerceof Spain had immensely benefited the trade of England and Holland.France, devastated by civil war, had been in no position to takeadvantage of the falling off in Spanish commerce, and had indeedherself suffered enormously by the emigration of tens of thousands ofthe most intelligent of her population owing to her persecution of theProtestants. Her traders and manufacturers largely belonged to the newreligion, and these had carried their industry and knowledge to Englandand Holland. Thus the religious bigotry of the kings of Spain andFrance had resulted in enormous loss to the trade and commerce of thosecountries, and in corresponding advantage to their Protestant rivals.
Geoffrey Vickars and his partner reaped the full benefit of the change,and the extensive acquaintance of the Spanish trader with merchants inall the Mediterranean ports enabled him to turn a large share of thenew current of trade into the hands of Geoffrey and himself. Thecapital which he transferred from Spain to England was very much largerthan that employed by the majority of English merchants, whose wealthhad been small indeed in comparison to that of the merchant princes ofthe great centres of trade such as Antwerp, Amsterdam, Genoa, andCadiz, and Geoffrey Vickars soon came to be looked upon as one of theleading merchants in the city of London.
"There can be no doubt, Geoffrey," his brother said as he lay on acouch in the garden in the early days of his convalescence, and lookedat the river dotted with boats that flowed past it, "the falling ofthat mast was a fortunate thing for you. One never can tell how thingswill turn out. It would have seemed as if, were you not drowned atonce, your lot would have been either a life's work in the Spanishgalleys, or death in the dungeons of the Inquisition. Instead of this,here you are a wealthy merchant in the city, with a charming wife, anda father-in-law who is, although a Spaniard, one of the kindest andbest men I ever met. All this time I, who was not knocked over by thatmast, have been drilling recruits, making long marches, andoccasionally fighting battles, and am no richer now than the day whenwe started together as Francis Vere's pages. It is true I have receivedthe honour of knighthood, and that of course I prize much; but I haveonly my captain's pay to support my dignity, and as I hardly thinkSpain will continue this useless struggle much longer, in which caseour army in Holland will be speedily disbanded, the prospect before meis not altogether an advantageous one."
"You must marry an heiress, Lionel," Geoffrey laughed. "Surely SirLionel Vickars, one of the heroes of Nieuport, and many another field,should be able to win the heart of some fair English damsel, with broadacres as her dower. But seriously, Lionel," he went on, changing histone, "if peace come, and with it lack of employment, the best thingfor you will be to join me. Mendez is getting on in years; and althoughhe is working hard at present, in order, as he says, to set everythinggoing smoothly and well here, he is looking forward to taking mattersmore easily, and to spending his time in tranquil pleasure with Doloresand her children. Therefore, whensoever it pleases you, there is aplace for you here. We always contemplated our lines running in thesame groove, and I should be glad that they should do so still. Whenthe time comes we can discuss what share you shall have of thebusiness; but at any rate I can promise you that it shall be sufficientto make you a rich man."
"Thank you, with all my heart, Geoffrey. It may be that some day I willaccept your offer, though I fear you will find me but a sorryassistant. It seems to me that after twelve years of campaigning I amlittle fitted for life as a city merchant."
"I went through plenty of adventure for six years, Lionel, but myfather-in-law has from the first been well satisfied with my capacityfor business. You are not seven-and-twenty yet. You have had enoughrough campaigning to satisfy anyone, and should be glad now of aneasier and more sober method of life. Well, there is no occasion tosettle anything at present, and I can well understand that you shouldprefer remaining in the army until the war comes to an end. When itdoes so, we can talk the matter over again; only be well assured thatthe offer will be always open to you, and that I shall be glad indeedto have you with me."
A few days after Lionel left him Geoffrey was passing along Chepe, whenhe stopped suddenly, stared hard at a gentleman who was approachinghim, and then rushed towards him with outstretched hand.
"My dear Gerald!" he exclaimed, "I am glad to see you."
The gentleman started back with an expression of the profoundestastonishment.
"Is it possible?" he cried. "Is it really Geoffrey Vickars?"
"Myself, and no other, Gerald."
"The saints be praised! Why, I have been thinking of you all theseyears as either dead or labouring at an oar in the Moorish galleys. Bywhat good fortune did you escape? and how is it I find you here,looking for all the world like a merchant of the city?"
"It is too long a story to tell now, Gerald. Where are you staying?"
"I have lodgings at Westminster, being at present a suitor at court."
"Is your wife with you?"
"She is. I have left my four children at home in Ireland."
"Then bring her to sup with me this evening. I have a wife to introduceto yours, and as she is also a Spaniard it will doubtless be a pleasureto them both."
"You astound me, Geoffrey. However, you shall tell me all about it thisevening, for be assured that we shall come. Inez has so often talkedabout you, and lamented the ill-fortune that befell you owing to yourardour."
"At six o'clock, then," Geoffrey said. "I generally dwell with myfather-in-law at Chelsea, but am just at present at home. My house isin St. Mary Axe; anyone there will tell you which it is."
That evening the two friends had a long talk together Geoffrey learntthat Gerald Burke reached Italy without further adventure, and thencetook ship to Bristol, and so crossed over to Ireland. On his petition,and solemn promise of good behaviour in future, he was pardoned and asmall portion of his estate restored to him. He was now in Londonendeavouring to obtain a remission of the forfeiture of the rest.
"I may be able to help you in that," Geoffrey said. "Sir Francis Vereis high in favour at court, and he will, at my prayer, I feel sure, usehis influence in your favour when I tell him how you acted my friend onmy landing in Spain from the Armada."
Geoffrey then gave an account of his various adventures from the timewhen he was struck down from the deck of the Barbary corsair until thepresent time.
"How was it," he asked when he concluded, "that you did not write to myparents, Gerald, on your return home? You knew where they lived."
"I talked the matter over with Inez," Gerald replied, "and we agreedthat it was kinder to them to be silent. Of course they had mourned youas killed in the fight with the Armada. A year had passed, and thewound must have somewhat healed. Had I told them that you had escapeddeath at that time, had been months with me in Spain, and had, on yourway home, been either killed by the Moors or were a prisoner in theirgalleys, it would have opened the wound afresh, and caused them renewedpain and sorrow."
"No doubt you were right, Gerald, and that it was, as you say, thekindest thing to leave them in ignorance of my fate."
Upon the next visit Sir Francis Vere paid to England, Geoffrey spoke tohim with regard to Gerald Burke's affairs. Sir Francis took the matterup warmly, and his influence sufficed in a very short time to obtain anorder for the restoration to Gerald of all his estates. Inez andDolores became as fast friends as were their husbands; and when theBurkes came to England Geoffrey's house was their home.
The meeting with Gerald was followed by a still greater surprise, fornot many days after, when Geoffrey was sitting with his wife and DonMendez under the shade of a broad cypress in the garden of themerchant's house at Chelsea, they saw a servant coming across towardsthem, followed by a man in seafaring attire. "Here is a person whowould speak to you, Master Vickars," the servant said. "I told him itwas not your custom to see any here, and that if he had aught to say heshould call at your house in St. Mary Axe; but he said
that he had butjust arrived from Hedingham, and that your honour would excuse hisintrusion when you saw him."
"Bring him up; he may be the bearer of a message from my father,"Geoffrey said; and the servant went back to the man, whom he had left ashort distance off.
"Master Vickars will speak with you."
The sailor approached the party. He stood for a minute before Geoffreywithout speaking. Geoffrey looked at him with some surprise, and sawthat the muscles of his face were twitching, and that he was muchagitated. As he looked at him remembrance suddenly flashed upon him,and he sprang to his feet. "Stephen Boldero!" he exclaimed.
"Ay, ay, Geoffrey, it is me."
For a time the men stood with their right hands clasped and the left oneach other's shoulders. Tears fell down the sailor's weather-beatencheeks, and Geoffrey himself was too moved to speak. For two years theyhad lived as brothers, had shared each other's toils and dangers, hadtalked over their plans and hopes together; and it was to Stephen thatGeoffrey owed it that he was not now a galley-slave in Barbary.
"Old friend, where have you been all this time?" he said at last. "Ihad thought you dead, and have grieved sorely for you."
"I have had some narrow escapes," Stephen said; "but you know I amtough. I am worth a good many dead men yet."
"Inez, Senor Mendez, you both remember Stephen Boldero?" Geoffrey said,turning to them.
"We have never forgotten you," the Spaniard said, shaking hands withthe sailor, "nor how much we owe to you. I sent out instructions byevery ship that sailed to the Indies that inquiries should be made foryou; and moreover had letters sent by influential friends to thegovernors of most of the islands saying that you had done great serviceto me and mine, and praying that if you were in any need or trouble youmight be sent back to Cadiz, and that any moneys you required might begiven to you at my charge. But we have heard nought of you from the daywhen the news came that you had left the ship in which you went out."
"I have had a rough time of it these five years," Stephen said. "But Icare not now that I am home again and have found my friend Geoffrey. Iarrived in Bristol but last week, and started for London on the day Ilanded, mindful of my promise to let his people know that he was safeand well, and with some faint hope that the capture of Cadiz had sethim at liberty. I got to Hedingham last night, and if I had been aprince Mr. Vickars and his dame and Sir Lionel could not have made moreof me. They were fain that I should stop with them a day or two; butwhen I heard that you were in London and had married Senora Dolores,and that Senor Mendez was with you--all of which in no way surprisedme, for methought I saw it coming before I left Cadiz--I could notrest, but was up at daylight this morning. Your brother offered toprocure me a horse, but I should have made bad weather on the craft,and after walking from Bristol the tramp up to London was nothing. Igot to your house in the city at four; and, finding that you were here,took a boat at once, for I could not rest until I saw my friend again."
Geoffrey at once took him into the house and set him down to a meal;and when the party were gathered later on in the sitting-room, and thecandles were lighted, Stephen told his story.
"As you will have heard, we made a good voyage to the Indies. Wedischarged our cargo, and took in another. I learned that there weretwo English ships cruising near San Domingo, and the Dons were in greatfear of them. I thought that my chance lay in joining them, so when wewere at our nearest port to that island I one night borrowed one of theship's boats without asking leave, and made off. I knew the directionin which San Domingo lay, but no more. My hope was that I should eitherfall in with our ships at sea, or, when I made the island, should beable to gather such information as might guide me to them. When I madethe land, after being four days out, I cruised about till theprovisions and water I had put on board were exhausted, and I couldhold out no longer. Then I made for the island and landed.
"You may be sure I did not make for a port, where I should bequestioned, but ran ashore in a wooded bay that looked as if no one hadever set foot there before. I dragged the boat up beyond, as I thought,the reach of the sea, and started to hunt for food and water. I foundenough berries and things to keep me alive, but not enough to stock myboat for another cruise. A week after I landed there was a tornado, andwhen it cleared off and I had recovered from my fright--for the treeswere blown down like rushes, and I thought my last day was come--Ifound that the boat was washed away. I was mightily disheartened atthis, and after much thinking made up my mind that there was nought forit but to keep along the shore until I arrived at a port, and then togive out that I was a shipwrecked sailor, and either try to get hold ofanother boat, or take passage back to Spain and make a fresh start.However, the next morning, just as I was starting, a number of nativesran out of the bush and seized me, and carried me away up into thehills.
"It was not pleasant at first, for they lit a big fire and were goingto set me on the top of it, taking me for a Spaniard. Seeing theirintentions, I took to arguing with them, and told them in Spanish thatI was no Spaniard, but an Englishman, and that I had been a slave tothe Spaniards and had escaped. Most of them understood some Spanish,having themselves been made to work as slaves in their plantations, andbeing all runaways from the tyranny of their masters. They knew, ofcourse, that we were the enemies of the Spaniards, and had heard ofplaces being sacked and ships taken by us. But they doubted my storyfor a long time, till at last one of them brought a crucifix that hadsomehow fallen into their hands, and held it up before me. When Istruck it down, as a good Protestant should do, they saw that I was notof the Spanish religion, and so loosed my bonds and made much of me.
"They could tell me nothing of the whereabouts of our ships, for thoughthey had seen vessels at times sail by, the poor creatures knew nothingof the difference of rig between an English craft and a Spaniard. Iabode with them for two years, and aided them in their fights wheneverthe Spaniards sent out parties, which they did many times, to capturethem. They were poor, timorous creatures, their spirits beingaltogether broken by the tyranny of the Dons; but when they saw that Ifeared them not, and was ready at any time to match myself against twoor, if need be, three of the Spaniards, they plucked up heart, and intime came to fight so stoutly that the Spaniards thought it best toleave them alone, seeing that we had the advantage of knowing everyfoot of the woods, and were able to pounce down upon them when theywere in straitened places and forced to fight at great disadvantage.
"I was regarded as a great chief by the natives, and could have gone onliving with them comfortably enough had not my thoughts been alwaysturning homeward, and a great desire to be among my own people, fromwhom I had been so long separated, devoured me. At last a Spanish shipwas driven ashore in a gale; she went to pieces, and every soul wasdrowned. When the gale abated the natives went down to collect thestores driven ashore, and I found on the beach one of her boats washedup almost uninjured, so nothing would do but I must sail away in her.The natives tried their hardest to persuade me to stay with them, butfinding that my mind was fixed beyond recall they gave way and didtheir best to aid me. The boat was well stored with provisions; we madea sail for her out of one belonging to the ship, and I set off,promising them that if I could not alight upon an English ship I wouldreturn to them.
"I had intended to keep my promise, but things turned out otherwise. Ihad not been two days at sea when there was another storm, for at onetime of the year they have tornadoes very frequently. I had nothing todo but to run for it, casting much of my provisions overboard tolighten the boat, and baling without ceasing to keep out the water shetook in. After running for many hours I was, somewhere about midnight,cast on shore. I made a shift to save myself, and in the morning foundthat I was on a low key. Here I lived for three weeks. Fortunatelythere was water in some of the hollows of the rocks, and as turtlescame ashore to lay their eggs I managed pretty well for a time; but thewater dried up, and for the last week I had nought to drink but theblood of the turtles. One morning I saw a ship passing not far off, andmaking a signal with th
e mast of the boat that had been washed ashorewith me I attracted their attention. I saw that she was a Spaniard, butI could not help that, for I had no choice but to hail her. They tookme to Porto Rico and there reported me as a shipwrecked sailor they hadpicked up. The governor questioned me closely as to what vessel I hadbeen lost from, and although I made up a good story he had his doubts.Fortunately it did not enter his mind that I was not a Spaniard; but hesaid he believed I was some bad character who had been marooned by mycomrades for murder or some other crime, and so put me in prison untilhe could learn something that would verify my story.
"After three months I was taken out of prison, but was set to work onthe fortifications, and there for another two years I had to stop. ThenI managed to slip away one day, and, hiding till nightfall, made my waydown through the town to the quays and swam out to a vessel at anchor.I climbed on board without notice, and hid myself below, where I layfor two days until she got up sail. When I judged she was well awayfrom the land I went on deck and told my story, that I was ashipwrecked sailor who had been forced by the governor to work at thefortifications. They did not believe me, saying that I must be somecriminal who had escaped from justice, and the captain said he shouldgive me up at the next port the ship touched. Fortunately four daysafterwards a sail hove in sight and gave chase, and before it was darkwas near enough to fire a gun and make us heave to, and a quarter of anhour later a boat came alongside, and I again heard English spoken forthe first time since I had left you at Cadiz.
"It was an English bucaneer, who, being short of water and freshvegetables, had chased us, though seeing we were but a petty trader andnot likely to have aught else worth taking on board. They wondered muchwhen I discovered myself to them and told them who I was and how I hadcome there; and when, on their rowing me on board their ship, I toldthe captain my story he told me that he thought I was the greatest liarhe had ever met. To be a galley-slave among the Spaniards, agalley-slave among the Moors, a consorter with Indians for two years,and again a prisoner with the Spaniards for as much more, was more thanfell to the lot of any one man, and he, like the Spanish governor,believed that I was some rascal who had been marooned, only he thoughtthat it was from an English ship. However, he said that as I was astout fellow he would give me another chance; and when, a fortnightlater, we fell in with a great Spanish galleon and captured her with agreat store of prize-money after a hard fight for six hours, the lastof which was passed on the deck of the Spaniard cutting andslashing--for, being laden with silver, she had a company of troops onboard in addition to her crew--the captain said, that though anastonishing liar there was no better fellow on board a ship, and,putting it to the crew, they agreed I had well earned my share of theprize-money. When we had got the silver on board, which was a heavy jobI can tell you, though not an unpleasant one, we put what Spaniardsremained alive into the boats, fired the galleon, and set sail forEngland, where we arrived without adventure. The silver was divided onthe day before we cast anchor, the owner's share being first set aside,every man his share, and the officers theirs in proportion. Mine cameto over a thousand pounds, and it needed two strong men to carry thechest up to the office of the owners, who gave me a receipt for it,which, as soon as I got, I started for London; and here, as you see, Iam."
"And now, what do you propose to do with yourself. Stephen?" Geoffreyasked.
"I shall first travel down again to Devonshire and see what friends Ihave remaining there. I do not expect to find many alive, for fifteenyears make many changes. My father and mother were both dead before Istarted, and my uncle, with whom I lived for a time, is scarce like tobe alive now. Still I may find some cousins and friends I knew as aboy."
"I should think you have had enough of the sea, Stephen, and you havenow ample to live ashore in comfort for the rest of your life."
"Yes, I shall go no more to sea," Stephen said. "Except for this laststroke of luck fortune has always been against me. What I should like,Master Geoffrey, most of all, would be to come up and work under you. Icould be of advantage in seeing to the loading and unloading vesselsand the storage of cargo. As for pay, I should not want it, having, asyou say, enough to live comfortably upon. Still I should like to bewith you."
"And I should like to have you with me, Stephen. Nothing would give megreater pleasure. If you are still of that mind when you return fromDevonshire we can again talk the matter over, and as our wishes areboth the same way we can have no difficulty in coming to an agreement."
Stephen Boldero remained for a week in London and then journeyed downto Devonshire. His idea of entering Geoffrey's service was nevercarried out, for after he had been gone two months Geoffrey received aletter from him saying that one of his cousins, who had been but alittle girl when he went away, had laid her orders upon him to buy asmall estate and settle down there, and that as she was willing tomarry him on no other terms he had nothing to do but to assent.
Once a year, however, regularly to the end of his life Stephen Bolderocame up to London to stay for a fortnight with Geoffrey, always comingby road, for he declared that he was convinced if he set foot on boarda ship again she would infallibly be wrecked on her voyage to London.
Chapter XXIII.
The Siege of Ostend.
On the 5th of July, 1601, the Archduke Albert began the siege of Ostendwith 20,000 men and 50 siege-guns. Ostend had been completely rebuiltand fortified eighteen years previously, and was defended by ramparts,counterscarps, and two broad ditches. The sand-hills between it and thesea were cut through, and the water filled the ditches and surroundedthe town. To the south the country was intersected by a network ofcanals. The river Yper-Leet came in at the back of the town, and aftermingling with the salt water in the ditches found its way to the seathrough the channels known as the Old Haven and the Geule, the first onthe west, the second on the east of the town.
On either side of these channels the land rose slightly, enabling thebesiegers to plant their batteries in very advantageous positions. Thegarrison at first consisted of but 2000 men under Governor Vander Nood.The States-general considered the defence of Ostend to be of extremeimportance to the cause, and appointed Sir Francis Vere general of thearmy in and about Ostend, and sent with him 600 Dutch troops and eightcompanies of English under the command of his brother, Sir Horace. Thisraised the garrison to the strength of 3600 men. Sir Francis landedwith these reinforcements on the sands opposite the old town, whichstood near the sea-shore between the Old Haven and the Geule, and wasseparated from the new town by a broad channel. He was forced to landhere, as the Spanish guns on the sand-hills commanded the entrances ofthe two channels.
OSTEND 1601.]
Sixteen thousand of the Spanish troops under the order of the archdukewere encamped to the west of the town, and had 30 of their siege-gunsin position there, while 4000 men were stationed on the east of thetown under Count Bucquoy. Ten guns were in position on that side.Ostend had no natural advantages for defence beyond the facility ofletting the sea into the numerous channels and ditches whichintersected the city, and protected it from any operations on the southside. On the east the Geule was broad and deep, and an assault fromthis side was very difficult. The Old Haven, on the west side, was fastfilling up, and was fordable for four hours every tide.
This, therefore, was the weak side of the town. The portion especiallyexposed to attack was the low sandy flat on which the old town stood,to the north of Ostend. It was against this point, separated only fromthe enemy's position by the shallow Old Haven, that the Spaniardsconcentrated their efforts. The defence here consisted of a work calledthe Porc-Espic, and a bastion in its rear called the Helmond. Theseworks lay to the north of the ditch dividing the old from the new town,while on the opposite side of this ditch was a fort called theSand-hill, from which along the sea face of the town ran strongpalisades and bastions.
The three principal bastions were named the Schottenburg, Moses' Table,and the Flamenburg, the last-named defending the entrance to the Geuleon the eastern side. The
re was a strong wall with three bastions, theNorth Bulwark, the East Bulwark or Pekell, and the Spanish Bulwark atthe south-east angle, with an outwork called the Spanish Half-moon onthe other side of the Geule. The south side was similarly defended by awall with four strong bastions, while beyond these at the south-westcorner lay a field called the Polder, extending to the point where theYper-Leet ran into the ditches.
Sir Francis Vere's first step after his arrival was to throw up threeredoubts to strengthen the wall round this field, as had the enemytaken possession of it they might have set the windmills upon it towork and have drained out many of the ditches. Having secured thispoint he cut a passage to the sea between the North-west Bulwark andthe Flamenburg Fort, so that shipping might enter the port withouthaving to ascend the Geule, exposed to the fire of the Spanish guns. Toannoy the enemy and draw them away from the vital point near the sea,he then stationed 200 men on some rising ground surrounded by swampsand ditches at some distance to the south of the city, and from herethey were able to open fire on the enemy's boats coming with suppliesfrom Bruges.
The operation was successful. The Spaniards, finding their line ofcommunication threatened, advanced in force from their position by thesea, and their forts opened a heavy fire on the little work thrown up.Other similar attempts would have been made to harass the Spaniards anddivert them from their main work, had not Sir Francis Vere beenseverely wounded in the head on the 4th of August by a shot from theSpanish batteries, which continued to keep up a tremendous fire uponthe town. So serious was the wound that the surgeons were of opinionthat the only chance of saving his life was to send him away from thedin and turmoil of the siege; and on the 10th he was taken toMiddelburg, where he remained for a month, returning to Ostend longbefore his wound was properly healed.
On the 1st of August a batch of recruits had arrived from England, andon the 8th 1200 more were landed. The fire of the besiegers was now soheavy that the soldiers were forced to dig underground quarters toshelter themselves. Sir Horace Vere led out several sorties; but thebesiegers, no longer distracted by the feints contrived by Sir Francis,succeeded in erecting a battery on the margin of the Old Haven, andopened fire on the Sand-hill Fort.
On the 19th of September Sir Francis Vere returned to the town, to thegreat joy of the garrison. Reinforcements continued to arrive, and atthis time the garrison numbered 4480. There were, too, a large numberof noblemen and gentlemen from England, France, and Holland, who hadcome to learn the art of war under the man who was regarded as thegreatest general of the time. All who were willing to work and learnwere heartily welcomed; those who were unwilling to do so were soonmade to feel that a besieged city was no place for them.
While the fighting was going on the archduke had attempted to capturethe place by treason. He engaged a traitor named Coningsby; who crossedto England, obtained letters of introduction to Vere, and then went toOstend. Thence he sent intelligence to the besiegers of all that tookplace in the town, placing his letters at night in an old boat sunk inthe mud on the bank of the Old Haven, a Spaniard wading across at lowtide and fetching them away. He then attempted to bribe a sergeant toblow up the powder magazine. The sergeant revealed the plot. Coningsbywas seized and confessed everything, and by an act of extraordinaryclemency was only sentenced to be whipped out of town.
This act of treachery on the part of the archduke justified theotherwise dishonourable stratagem afterwards played by Vere upon him.All through October and November the Spaniards were hard at workadvancing their batteries, sinking great baskets filled with sand inthe Old Haven to facilitate the passage of the troops, and buildingfloating batteries in the Geule. On the night of the 4th of Decemberthey advanced suddenly to the attack. Vere and his officers leapt fromtheir beds and rushed to the walls, and after a fierce struggle thebesiegers were driven back. Straw was lighted to enable the musketeersand gunners to fire upon them as they retreated, and the assault costthem five hundred lives.
On the 12th a hard frost set in, and until Christmas a strong gale fromthe south-east blew. No succour could reach the town. The garrison weredwindling fast, and ammunition falling short. It required fully 4000men to guard the walls and forts, while but 2500 remained capable ofbearing arms. It was known that the archduke soon intended to make anassault with his whole force, and Vere knew that he could scarcely hopeto repel it. He called a council of his chief officers, and asked theiropinion whether with the present numbers all parts of the works couldbe manned in case of assault, and if not whether it was advisable towithdraw the guards from all the outlying positions and to hold onlythe town.
They were unanimously of opinion that the force was too small to defendthe whole, but Sir Horace Vere and Sir John Ogle alone gave theiradvice to abandon the outlying forts rather than endanger the loss ofthe town. The other officers were of opinion that all the works shouldbe held, although they acknowledged that the disposable force wasincapable of doing so. Some days elapsed, and Vere learned that theSpanish preparations were all complete, and that they were only waitingfor a low tide to attack. Time was everything, for a change of windwould bring speedy succour, so without taking council with anyone hesent Sir John Ogle with a drummer to the side of the Old Haven.
Don Mateo Serrano came forward, and Ogle gave his message, which wasthat General Vere wished to have some qualified person to speak to him.This was reported to the archduke, who agreed that Serrano and anotherSpanish officer should go into the town, and that Ogle and a comradeshould come as hostages into the Spanish camp. Sir John Ogle took hisfriend Sir Charles Fairfax with him, and Serrano and Colonel Antoniocrossed into Ostend. The two Englishmen were conducted to the archduke,who asked Sir John Ogle to tell him if there was any deceit in thematter. Ogle answered if there were it was more than he knew, for Verehad simply charged him to carry the message, and that he and Fairfaxhad merely come as hostages for the safe return of the Spanish officers.
Ogle was next asked whether he thought the general intended sincerelyor not, and could only reply that he was altogether unacquainted withthe general's purpose.
The next morning Serrano and Antonio returned without having seen Vere.The pretext on which they had been sent back was that there was someirregularity in their coming across; but instead of their being sentback across the Old Haven they were sent across the Geule, and had tomake a long round to regain the archduke's camp.
Thus a day and a night were gained. The next day, towards evening, thetwo Spanish officers were admitted into Ostend, and received veryhospitably by Sir Francis. After supper many healths were drunk, andthen Sir Francis informed them to their astonishment that his proposalwas not that he should surrender Ostend, but that the archduke shouldraise the siege. But it was now far too late for them to return, andthey went to bed in the general's quarters. During the two nights thusgained the defenders had worked incessantly in repairing the palisadesfacing the point at which the attack would take place, a work that theyhad hitherto been unable to perform owing to the tremendous fire thatthe Spaniards kept up night and day upon it.
At break of day five men-of-war from Zeeland came to anchor off thetown. They brought four hundred men, and provisions and materials ofwar of all kinds. They were immediately landed under a heavy fire fromthe enemy's batteries on both sides. The firing awoke the two Spanishenvoys, who inquired what was taking place. They were politely informedby Sir Francis Vere that succour had arrived, and the negotiations wereof course broken off; and they were accordingly sent back, while Ogleand Fairfax returned to Ostend.
Vere's account of the transaction was that he had simply asked for twoSpanish officers to speak with him. He had offered no terms, and therewas therefore no breach of faith. The commander of a besieged town, heinsisted, is always at liberty to propose a parley, which the enemy canaccept or not as he chooses. At any rate, it was not for the archduke,who had hired a traitor to corrupt the garrison, to make a complaint oftreachery.
Twelve hundred men were employed for the next eight days instrengthening the w
orks, Sir Francis being always with them at night,when the water was low, encouraging them by his presence and example.
Early in January he learned that the enemy were preparing for theassault, and on the 7th a crushing fire was kept up on the Porc-Espic,Helmond, and Sand-hill forts. The Spaniards had by this time fired163,200 cannon-shot into the town, and scarcely a whole house was leftstanding. Towards evening they were seen bringing scaling-ladders tothe opposite bank of the Haven. Two thousand Italian and Spanish troopshad been told off to attack the sand-hill, two thousand were to assaultHelmond and the Porc-Espic, two parties of five hundred men each wereto attack other works, while on the east side Count Bucquoy was todeliver a general assault.
The English general watched all these preparations with the greatestvigilance. At high water he closed the west sluice, which let the waterinto the town ditch from the Old Haven, in the rear of Helmond, inorder to retain as much water as possible, and stationed his troops atthe various points most threatened. Sir Horace Vere and Sir CharlesFairfax, with twelve weak companies, some of them reduced to ten ortwelve men, were stationed on the sand-hill.
Four of the strongest companies garrisoned the Porc-Espic; ten weakcompanies and nine cannon loaded with musket bullets defended theHelmond. These posts were commanded by Sergeant-major Carpenter andCaptain Meetkerk; the rest of the force were disposed at the otherthreatened points. Sir Francis himself, with Sir Lionel Vickars as hisright hand, took his post on the wall of the old town, between thesand-hill and the Schottenburg, which had been much damaged by theaction of the waves during the gales and by the enemy's shot. Barrelsof ashes, heaps of stones and bricks, hoops bound with squibs andfireworks, ropes of pitch, hand-grenades, and barrels of nails werecollected in readiness to hurl down upon the assailants.
At dusk the besiegers ceased firing, to allow the guns to cool. Twoengineer officers with fifty stout sappers, who each had a rose-noblefor every quarter of an hour's work, got on to the breach in front ofthe sand-hill, and threw up a small breastwork, strengthened bypalisades, across it. An officer crept down towards the Old Haven, andpresently returned with the news that two thousand of the enemy werewading across, and forming up in battalions on the Ostend side.
Suddenly a gun boomed out from the archduke's camp as a signal toBucquoy, and just as the night had fairly set in the besiegers rushedto the assault from all points. They were received by a tremendous firefrom the guns of the forts and the muskets of the soldiers; but,although the effect was serious, they did not hesitate a moment, butdashed forwards towards the foot of the sand-hill and the wall of theold town, halted for a moment, poured in a volley, and then rushed intothe breach and against the walls. The volley had been harmless, forVere had ordered the men to lie flat until it was given. As theSpaniards climbed up barrels of ashes were emptied upon them, stonesand heavy timbers hurled down, and flaming hoops cast over their necks.Three times they climbed to the crest of the sand-hill, and as manytimes gained a footing on the Schottenburg; but each time they werebeaten back with great slaughter. As fiercely did they attack at theother points, but were everywhere repulsed.
On the east side three strong battalions of the enemy attacked theoutwork across the Geule, known as the Spanish Half-moon. Vere, who waseverywhere supervising the defence, ordered the weak garrison there towithdraw, and sent a soldier out to give himself up, and to tell themthat the Half-moon was slenderly manned, and to offer to lead them in.The offer was accepted, and the Spaniards took possession of the work.
The general's object was to occupy them, and prevent their supportingtheir comrades in the western attack. The Half-moon, indeed, was quiteopen towards the town. Tide was rising, and a heavy fire was openedupon the captors of the work from the batteries across the Geule, andthey were driven out with the loss of three hundred men. At length theassault was repulsed at all points, and the assailants began to retireacross the Old Haven. No sooner did they begin to ford it than Vereopened the west sluice, and the water in the town ditch rushed down ina torrent, carrying numbers of the Spaniards away into the sea.
Altogether, the assault cost the Spaniards two thousand men. Anenormous amount of plunder in arms, gold chains, jewels, and richgarments were obtained by the defenders from the bodies of the fallen.The loss of the garrison was only thirty killed and a hundred wounded.
The repulse of the grand attack upon Ostend by no means put an end tothe siege. Sir Francis Vere, his brother Horace, Sir John Ogle, and SirLionel Vickars left, the general being summoned to assume command inthe field; but the siege continued for two years and a half longer.Many assaults were repulsed during that time, and the town onlysurrendered on the 20th September, 1604, when the sand-hill, which wasthe key of the whole position, was at last captured by the Spaniards.
It was but a heap of ruins that they had become possessed of aftertheir three years' siege, and its capture had not only cost them animmense number of men and a vast amount of money, but the long andgallant defence had secured upon a firm basis the independence ofHolland. While the whole available force of Spain had been so occupiedPrince Maurice and his English allies had captured town after town, andhad beaten the enemy whenever they attempted to show themselves in theopen field. They had more than counterbalanced the loss of Ostend bythe recapture of Sluys, and had so lowered the Spanish pride that notlong afterwards a twelve years' truce was concluded, which virtuallybrought the war to an end, and secured for ever the independence ofHolland.
During the last year or two of the war Sir Francis Vere, worn out byhis fatigues and the countless wounds he had received in the service ofthe Netherlands, had resigned his command and retired to England, beingsucceeded in his position by Sir Horace. Lionel Vickars fought no moreafter he had borne his part in the repulse of the great assault againstOstend. He had barely recovered from the effect of the wound he hadreceived at the battle of Nieuport, and the fatigues and anxiety of thesiege, together with the damp air from the marshes, brought on aserious attack of fever, which completely prostrated him as soon as thenecessity for exertion had passed. He remained some weeks at the Hague,and then, being somewhat recovered, returned home.
While throughout all England the greatest enthusiasm had been arousedby the victory of Nieuport and the repulse of the Spaniards at Ostend,the feeling was naturally higher in the Vere's county of Essex thanelsewhere. As soon as Lionel Vickars was well enough to take any sharein gaieties he received many invitations to stay at the great houses ofthe county, where most of the gentry were more or less closelyconnected with the Veres; and before he had been home many months hemarried Dorothy Windhurst, one of the richest heiresses in the county,and a cousin of the Veres. Thus Geoffrey had, after Juan Mendez retiredfrom taking any active part in the business, to work alone until hissons were old enough to join him in the business. As soon as they wereable to undertake its active management, Geoffrey bought an estate nearHedingham, and there settled down, journeying occasionally to London tosee how the affairs of the house went on, and to give advice to hissons. Dolores had, two or three years after her arrival in England,embraced the faith of her husband; and although she complained a littleat times of the English climate, she never once regretted the step shehad taken in leaving her native Spain.