Republic was laid. The weary spirit of freedom, so long a fugitive over
earth and sea, had at last found a resting-place, which rude and even
ribald hands had prepared.

The panic created by the first appearance of the fleet had been so
extensive that hardly fifty citizens had remained in the town. The rest
had all escaped, with as much property as they could carry away. The
Admiral, in the name, of the Prince of Orange, as lawful stadholder of
Philip, took formal possession of an almost deserted city. No indignity
was offered to the inhabitants of either sex, but as soon, as the
conquerors were fairly established in the best houses of the place,
the inclination to plunder the churches could no longer be restrained.
The altars and images were all destroyed, the rich furniture and gorgeous
vestments appropriated to private use. Adam van Hare appeared on his
vessel's deck attired in a magnificent high mass chasuble. Treslong
thenceforth used no drinking cups in his cabin save the golden chalices
of the sacrament. Unfortunately, their hatred to popery was not confined
to such demonstrations. Thirteen unfortunate monks and priests, who had
been unable to effect their escape, were arrested and thrown into prison,
from whence they were taken a few days later, by order of the ferocious
Admiral, and executed under circumstances of great barbarity.

The news of this important exploit spread with great rapidity. Alva,
surprised at the very moment of venting his rage on the butchers and
grocers of Brussels, deferred this savage design in order to deal with
the new difficulty. He had certainly not expected such a result from
the ready compliance of queen Elizabeth with his request. His rage was
excessive; the triumph of the people, by whom he was cordially detested,
proportionably great. The punsters of Brussels were sure not to let such
an opportunity escape them, for the name of the captured town was