was quartered in the town-house, while the soldiers distributed themselves among the houses of the most opulent citizens, no one escaping a billet who was rich enough to receive such company:  bishop or burgomaster, margrave or merchant.  The most famous kitchens were naturally the most eagerly sought, and sumptuous apartments, luxurious dishes, delicate wines, were daily demanded.  The burghers dared not refuse.

The six hundred Walloons, who had been previously quartered in the city, were expelled, and for many days, the mutiny reigned paramount.  Day after day the magistracy, the heads of guilds, all the representatives of the citizens were assembled in the Broad Council.  The Governor-General insisted on his demand of four hundred thousand crowns, representing, with great justice, that the mutineers would remain in the city until they had eaten and drunk to that amount, and that there would still be the arrearages; for which the city would be obliged to raise the funds.  On the 9th of May, the authorities made an offer, which was duly communicated to the Eletto.  That functionary stood forth on a window-sill of the town-house, and addressed the soldiery.  He informed them that the Grand Commander proposed to pay ten months’ arrears in cash, five months in silks and woollen cloths, and the balance in promises, to be fulfilled within a few days.  The terms were not considered satisfactory, and were received with groans of derision.  The Eletto, on the contrary, declared them very liberal, and reminded the soldiers of the perilous condition in which they stood, guilty to a man of high treason, with a rope around every neck.  It was well worth their while to accept the offer made them, together with the absolute pardon for the past, by which it was accompanied.  For himself, he washed his hands of the consequences if the offer were rejected.  The soldiers answered by deposing the Eletto and choosing another in his room.

Three days after, a mutiny broke out in the citadel—­an unexampled occurrence.  The rebels ordered Sancho d’Avila, the commandant, to deliver the keys of the fortress.  He refused to surrender them but with his life.  They then contented themselves with compelling his lieutenant to leave the citadel, and with sending their Eletto to confer with the Grand Commander, as well as with the Eletto of the army.  After accomplishing his mission, he returned, accompanied by Chiappin Vitelli, as envoy of the Governor-General.  No sooner, however, had the Eletto set foot on the drawbridge than he was attacked by Ensign Salvatierra of the Spanish garrison, who stabbed him to the heart and threw him into the moat.  The ensign, who was renowned in the army for his ferocious courage, and who wore embroidered upon his trunk hose the inscription, “El castigador de los Flamencos,” then rushed upon the Sergeant-major of the mutineers, despatched him in the same way, and tossed him likewise into the moat.  These preliminaries being settled, a satisfactory arrangement was negotiated between Vitelli and the rebellious garrison.  Pardon for the past, and payment upon the same terms as those offered in the city, were accepted, and the mutiny of the citadel was quelled.  It was, however, necessary that Salvatierra should conceal himself for a long time, to escape being torn to pieces by the incensed soldiery.