llet, and other implements of their
trade. A bold baker, standing by his oven-stark naked, according to the
custom of bakers at that day--rushed to the street as the sound of the
tumult reached his ear. With his heavy bread shovel, which he still held
in his hand, he dealt a French cavalry, officer, just riding and
screaming by, such a hearty blow that he fell dead from his horse. The
baker seized the officer's sword, sprang all unattired as he was, upon
his steed, and careered furiously through the streets, encouraging his
countrymen everywhere to the attack, and dealing dismay through the ranks
of the enemy. His services in that eventful hour were so signal that he
was publicly thanked afterwards by the magistrates for his services, and
rewarded with a pension of three hundred florins for life.

The invaders had been forced from the Bourse, while another portion of
them had penetrated as far as the Market-place. The resistance which they
encountered became every instant more formidable, and Fervacques, a
leading French officer, who was captured on the occasion, acknowledged
that no regular troops could have fought more bravely than did these
stalwart burghers. Women and children mounted to roof and window, whence
they hurled, not only tiles and chimney pots, but tables, ponderous
chairs, and other bulky articles, upon the heads of the assailants, while
such citizens as had used all their bullets, loaded their pieces with the
silver buttons from their doublets, or twisted gold and silver coins with
their teeth into ammunition. With a population so resolute, the four
thousand invaders, however audacious, soon found themselves swallowed up.
The city had closed over them like water, and within an hour nearly a
third of their whole number had been slain. Very few of the burghers had
perished, and fresh numbers were constantly advancing to the attack. The
Frenchmen, blinded, staggering, beaten, attempted to retreat. Many threw
themselves from the fortifications into the moat. The rest of the
survivors struggled through the streets--falling in large numbers at
every step-towards the point at which they had so lately entered the
city. Here at the Kipdorp gate was a ghastly spectacle, the slain being
piled up in the narrow passage full ten feet high, while some of the
heap, not quite dead, were striving to extricate a hand or foot, and
others feebly thrust forth their heads to gain a mouthful of air.

From the outside, some of