Before the tide had risen to more than half-flood, before the day had dawned, the army set foot on dry land again, at the village of Irseken.  Of the whole three thousand, only nine unlucky individuals had been drowned; so much had courage and discipline availed in that dark and perilous passage through the very bottom of the sea.  The Duke of Alva might well pronounce it one of the most brilliant and original achievements in the annals of war.  The beacon fires were immediately lighted upon the shore; as agreed upon, to inform Sancho d’Avila, who was anxiously awaiting the result at Bergen op Zoom, of the safe arrival of the troops.  A brief repose was then allowed.  At the approach of daylight, they set forth from Irseken, which lay about four leagues from Tergoes.  The news that a Spanish army had thus arisen from the depths of the sea, flew before them as they marched.  The besieging force commanded the water with their fleet, the land with their army; yet had these indomitable Spaniards found a path which was neither land nor water, and had thus stolen upon them in the silence of night.  A panic preceded them as they fell upon a foe much superior in number to their own force.  It was impossible for ’t Zeraerts to induce his soldiers to offer resistance.  The patriot army fled precipitately and ignominiously to their ships, hotly pursued by the Spaniards, who overtook and destroyed the whole of their rearguard before they could embark.  This done, the gallant little garrison which had so successfully held the city, was reinforced with the courageous veterans who had come to their relief. his audacious project thus brilliantly accomplished, the “good old Mondragon,” as his soldiers called him, returned to the province of Brabant.

After the capture of Mons and the sack of Mechlin, the Duke of Alva had taken his way to Nimwegen, having despatched his son, Don Frederic, to reduce the northern and eastern country, which was only too ready to submit to the conqueror.  Very little resistance was made by any of the cities which had so recently, and—­with such enthusiasm, embraced the cause of Orange.  Zutphen attempted a feeble opposition to the entrance of the King’s troops, and received a dreadful chastisement in consequence.  Alva sent orders to his son to leave not a single man alive in the city, and to burn every house to the ground.  The Duke’s command was almost literally obeyed.  Don Frederic entered Zutphen, and without a moment’s warning put the whole garrison to the sword.  The citizens next fell a defenceless, prey; some being, stabbed in the streets, some hanged on the trees which decorated the city, some stripped stark naked; and turned out into the fields to freeze to death in the wintry night.  As the work of death became too fatiguing for the butchers, five hundred innocent burghers were tied two and two, back to back, and drowned like dogs in the river Yssel.  A few stragglers who had contrived to elude pursuit at first, were