It was not a moment for making prisoners or speaking of quarter.
Meantime Fervet and his band had not been idle. The magazine-house of
the castle was seized, its defenders slain. Young Lanzavecchia made a
sally from the palace, was wounded and driven back together with a few of
his adherents.

The rest of the garrison fled helter-skelter into the town. Never had
the musketeers of Italy--for they all belonged to Spinola's famous
Sicilian Legion--behaved so badly. They did not even take the precaution
to destroy the bridge between the castle and the town as they fled panic-
stricken before seventy Hollanders. Instead of encouraging the burghers
to their support they spread dismay, as they ran, through every street.

Young Lanzavecchia, penned into a corner of the castle; began to parley;
hoping for a rally before a surrender should be necessary. In the midst
of the negotiation and a couple of hours before dawn, Hohenlo; duly
apprised by the boatman, arrived with the vanguard of Maurice's troops
before the field-gate of the fort. A vain attempt was made to force this
portal open, but the winter's ice had fixed it fast. Hohenlo was obliged
to batter down the palisade near the water-gate and enter by the same
road through which the fatal turf-boat had passed.

Soon after he had marched into the town at the head of a strong
detachment, Prince Maurice himself arrived in great haste, attended by
Philip Nassau, the Admiral Justinus Nassau, Count Solms, Peter van der
Does, and Sir Francis Vere, and followed by another body of picked
troops; the musicians playing merrily that national air, then as now so
dear to Netherlanders--