oon as it was known that the Spaniards had crossed the
rampart, that its six thousand defenders were in full retreat, it was
inevitable that a panic should seize the city.

Their entrance once effected, the Spanish force had separated; according
to previous arrangement, into two divisions, one half charging up the
long street of Saint Michael, the other forcing its way through the
Street of Saint Joris. "Santiago, Santiago! Espana, Espana! a sangre, a
carne, a fuego, a Sacco!" Saint James, Spain, blood, flesh, fire,
sack!!--such were the hideous cries which rang through every quarter of
the city, as the savage horde advanced. Van Ende, with his German troops,
had been stationed by the Marquis of Havre to defend the Saint Joris
gate, but no sooner, did the Spaniards under Vargas present themselves,
than he deserted to them instantly with his whole force. United with the
Spanish cavalry, these traitorous defenders of Antwerp dashed in pursuit
of those who had only been fainthearted. Thus the burghers saw themselves
attacked by many of their friends, deserted by more. Whom were they to
trust? Nevertheless, Oberstein's Germans were brave and faithful,
resisting to the last, and dying every man in his harness. The tide of
battle flowed hither and thither, through every street and narrow lane.
It poured along the magnificent Place de Meer, where there was an
obstinate contest. In front of the famous Exchange, where in peaceful
hours, five thousand merchants met daily, to arrange the commercial
affairs of Christendom, there was a determined rally, a savage slaughter.
The citizens and faithful Germans, in this broader space, made a stand
against their pursuers. The tesselated marble pavement, the graceful,
cloister-like arcades ran red with blood. The ill-armed burghers faced
their enemies clad in complete panoply, but they could only die for their
homes. The massacre at this point was enormous, the resistance at last
overcome.

Meantime, the Spanish cavalry had cleft its way through the city. On the
side farthest removed from the castle; along the Horse-market, opposite
the New-town, the states dragoons and the light horse of Beveren had been
posted, and the flying masses of pursuers and pursued swept at last
through this outer circle. Champagny was already there. He essayed, as
his last hope, to rally the cavalry for a final stand, but the effort was
fruitless. Already seized by the panic, they had attempted to rush from
the