On the evening of March the 3rd, 1580, the Count entertained a large number of the most distinguished families of the place at a ball and banquet.  At the supper-table, Hildebrand, chief burgomaster of the city, bluntly interrogated his host concerning the calumnious reports which were in circulation, expressing the hope that there was no truth in these inventions of his enemies.  Thus summoned, Renneberg, seizing the hands of Hildebrand in both his own, exclaimed, “Oh; my father! you whom I esteem as my father, can you suspect me of such guilt?  I pray you, trust me, and fear me not!”

With this he restored the burgomaster and all the other guests to confidence.  The feast and dance proceeded, while Renneberg was quietly arranging his plot.  During the night all the leading patriots were taken out of their beds, and carried to prison, notice being at the same time given to the secret adherents of Renneberg.  Before dawn, a numerous mob of boatmen and vagrants, well armed, appeared upon the public square.  They bore torches and standards, and amazed the quiet little city with their shouts.  The place was formally taken into possession, cannon were planted in front of the Town House to command the principal streets, and barricades erected at various important points.  Just at daylight, Renneberg himself, in complete armor, rode into the square, and it was observed that he looked ghastly as a corpse.  He was followed by thirty troopers, armed like himself, from head to foot.  “Stand by me now,” he cried to the assembled throng; “fail me not at this moment, for now I am for the first time your stadholder.”

While he was speaking, a few citizens of the highest class forced their way through the throng and addressed the mob in tones of authority.  They were evidently magisterial persons endeavoring to quell the riot.  As they advanced, one of Renneberg’s men-at-arms discharged his carabine at the foremost gentleman, who was no other than burgomaster Hildebrand.  He fell dead at the feet of the stadholder—­of the man who had clasped his hands a few hours before, called him father, and implored him to entertain no suspicions of his honor.  The death of this distinguished gentleman created a panic, during which Renneberg addressed his adherents, and stimulated them to atone by their future zeal in the King’s service for their former delinquency.  A few days afterwards the city was formally reunited to the royal government; but the Count’s measures had been precipitated to such an extent, that he was unable to carry the province with him, as he had hoped.  On the contrary, although he had secured the city, he had secured nothing else.  He was immediately beleaguered by the states’ force in the province under the command of Barthold Entes, Hohenlo, and Philip Louis Nassau, and it was necessary to send for immediate assistance from Parma.

The Prince of Orange, being thus bitterly disappointed by the treachery of his friend, and foiled in his attempt to avert the immediate consequences, continued his interrupted journey to Amsterdam.  Here he was received with unbounded enthusiasm.