ocence of any plot
against the prince's life. Nevertheless, early on August 19, sentence
was pronounced upon him of banishment and loss of all his offices.
Later on the same day Cornelis sent a message to his brother that he
should like to see him. John, in spite of strong warnings, came to the
Gevangenpoort and was admitted to the room where the Ruwaard, as a
result of the cruel treatment he had received, was lying in bed; and the
two brothers had a long conversation. Meanwhile a great crowd had
gathered round the prison clamouring for vengeance upon the De Witts.
Three companies of soldiers were however drawn up under the command of
Count Tilly with orders from the Commissioned-Councillors to maintain
order. At the same time the _schutterij_--the civic guard--was called
out. These latter, however, were not to be trusted and were rather
inclined to fraternise with the mob. So long as Tilly's troops were at
hand, the rioters were held in restraint and no acts of violence were
attempted. It was at this critical moment that verbal orders came to
Tilly to march his troops to the gates to disperse some bands of
marauding peasants who were said to be approaching. Tilly refused to
move without a written order. It came, signed by Van Asperen, the
president of the Commissioned-Councillors, a strong Orange partisan. On
receiving it Tilly is said to have exclaimed, "I will obey, but the De
Witts are dead men." The soldiers were no sooner gone than the crowd,
under the leadership of Verhoef, a goldsmith, and Van Bankhem, a banker,
forced the door of the prison (the _schutterij_ either standing aloof,
or actually assisting in the attack), and rushing upstairs found John de
Witt sitting calmly at the foot of his brother's bed reading aloud to
him a passage of Scripture. Hands were laid upon both with brutal
violence; they were dragged into the street; and there with blows of
clubs and repeated stabs done to death. It was 4 p.m. when Tilly
departed, at 4.30 all was over, but the infuriated rabble were not
content with mere murder. The bodies were shamefully mis-handled and
were finally hung up by the feet to a lamppost, round which to a late
hour in the evening a crowd shouted, sang and danced. It is impossible
to conceive a fate more horrible or less deserved. The poor dishonoured
remains were taken down when night fell by faithful hands and were at
dawn in the presence of a few relatives and friends interred in the
Nieuwe Kerk.

T