other vessels had been beaten back by the enemy.
Night approached; and there was no possibility of
accomplishing the enterprise. His ship was hopelessly
stranded. With the morning’s sun his captivity
was certain. Rather than fall into the hands
of his enemy, he sprang into the sea; followed by three
hundred of his companions, some of whom were fortunate
enough to effect their escape. The gallant Admiral
swam a long time, sustained by a broken spar.
Night and darkness came on before assistance could
be rendered, and he perished. Thus died Louis
Boisot, one of the most enterprising of the early
champions of Netherland freedom—one of the
bravest precursors of that race of heroes, the commanders
of the Holland navy. The Prince deplored his
loss deeply, as that of a “valiant gentleman,
and one well affectioned to the common cause.”
His brother, Charles Boisot, as will be remembered,
had perished by treachery at the first landing of the
Spanish troops; after their perilous passage from
Duiveland.—Thus both the brethren had laid
down their lives for their country, in this its outer
barrier, and in the hour of its utmost need. The
fall of the beleaguered town could no longer be deferred.
The Spaniards were, at last, to receive the prize
of that romantic valor which had led them across the
bottom of the sea to attack the city. Nearly
nine months had, however, elapsed since that achievement;
and the Grand Commander, by whose orders it had been
undertaken, had been four months in his grave.
He was permitted to see neither the long-delayed success
which crowded the enterprise, nor the procession of
disasters and crimes which were to mark it as a most
fatal success.
On the 21st of June, 1576, Zierickzee, instructed
by the Prince of Orange to accept honorable terms,
if offered, agreed to surrender. Mondragon, whose
soldiers were in a state of suffering, and ready to
break out in mutiny, was but too happy to grant an
honorable capitulation. The garrison were allowed
to go out with their arms and personal baggage.
The citizens were permitted to retain or resume their
privileges and charters, on payment of two hundred
thousand guldens. Of, sacking and burning there
was, on this occasion, fortunately, no question; but
the first half of the commutation money was to be
paid in cash. There was but little money in the
impoverished little town, but mint-masters were appointed
by the: magistrates to take their seats at once
an in the Hotel de Ville. The citizens brought
their spoons and silver dishes; one after another,
which were melted and coined into dollars and half-dollars,
until the payment was satisfactorily adjusted.
Thus fell Zierickzee, to the deep regret of the Prince.
“Had we received the least succor in the world
from any side,” he wrote; “the poor city
should never have fallen. I could get nothing
from France or England, with all my efforts.
Nevertheless, we do not lose courage, but hope that,
although abandoned by all the world, the Lord God
will extend His right hand over us.”