was not
quite ready to strike her flag. In the course of the forenoon, however,
it became obvious to Bossu that further resistance was idle. The ships
were aground near a hostile coast, his own fleet was hopelessly
dispersed, three quarters of his crew were dead or disabled, while the
vessels with which he was engaged were constantly recruited by boats from
the shore, which brought fresh men and ammunition, and removed their
killed and wounded. At eleven o'clock, Admiral Bossu surrendered, and
with three hundred prisoners was carried into Holland. Bossu was himself
imprisoned at Horn, in which city he was received, on his arrival, with
great demonstrations of popular hatred. The massacre of Rotterdam, due to
his cruelty and treachery, had not yet been forgotten or forgiven.

This victory, following so hard upon the triumph at Alkmaar, was as
gratifying to the patriots as it was galling to Alva. As his
administration drew to a close, it was marked by disaster and disgrace on
land and sea. The brilliant exploits by which he had struck terror into
the heart of the Netherlanders, at Jemmingen and in Brabant, had been
effaced by the valor of a handful of Hollanders, without discipline or
experience. To the patriots, the opportune capture of so considerable a
personage as the Admiral and Governor of the northern province was of
great advantage. Such of the hostages from Harlem as had not yet been
executed, now escaped with their lives. Moreover, Saint Aldegonde, the
eloquent patriot and confidential friend of Orange, who was taken
prisoner a few weeks later, in an action at Maeslands-luis, was preserved
from inevitable destruction by the same cause. The Prince hastened to
assure the Duke of Alva that the same measure would be dealt to Bossu as
should be meted to Saint Aldegonde. It was, therefore, impossible for the
Governor-General to execute his prisoner, and he was obliged to submit to
the vexation of seeing a leading rebel and heretic in his power, whom he
dared not strike. Both the distinguished prisoners eventually regained
their liberty.

The Duke was, doubtless, lower sunk in the estimation of all classes than
he had ever been before, during his long and generally successful life.
The reverses sustained by his army, the belief that his master had grown
cold towards him, the certainty that his career in the Netherlands was
closing without a satisfactory result, the natural weariness produced
upon men's minds by the co