ose.
It was arranged with King Zaida that the islanders of Ternate should make
a demonstration against Tydor, being set across the strait in Dutch
vessels. Sebastian, however, having little faith in oriental tenacity,
entrusted the real work of storming the fortress to his own soldiers and
sailors. On a fine morning in May the assault was delivered in
magnificent style. The resistance was obstinate; many of the assailants
fell, and Captain Mol, whom we have once before seen as master of the
Tiger, sinking the galleys of Frederic Spinola off the Gat of Sluys,
found himself at the head of only seven men within the interior defences
of the citadel. A Spanish soldier, Torre by name, rushed upon him with a
spear. Avoiding the blow, Mol grappled with his antagonist, and both
rolled to the ground. A fortunate carbine-shot from one of the Dutch
captain's comrades went through the Spaniard's head. Meantime the little
band, so insignificant in numbers, was driven out of the citadel. Mol
fell to the ground with a shattered leg, and reproached his companions,
who sought to remove him, for neglecting their work in order to save his
life. Let them take the fort, he implored them, and when that was done
they might find leisure to pick him up if they chose. While he was
speaking the principal tower of the fortress blew up, and sixty of the
garrison were launched into the air. A well-directed shot had set fire to
the magazine. The assault was renewed with fresh numbers, and the Dutch
were soon masters of the place. Never was a stronghold more audaciously
or more successfully stormed. The garrison surrendered. The women and
children, fearing to be at the mercy of those who had been depicted to
them as cannibals, had already made their escape, and were scrambling
like squirrels among the volcanic cliffs. Famine soon compelled them to
come down, however, when they experienced sufficiently kind treatment,
but were all deported in Dutch vessels to the Philippine islands. The
conquerors not only spared the life of the King of Tydor, but permitted
him to retain his crown. At his request the citadel was razed to the
ground. It would have been better perhaps to let it stand, and it was
possible that in the heart of the vanquished potentate some vengeance was
lurking which might bear evil fruit at a later day. Meantime the
Portuguese were driven entirely out of the Moluccas, save the island of
Timos, where they still retained a not very important c