Of course, Spain would have none of this. The Duke of Anjou boldly entered the Netherlands at the head of a massive army - some 12,000 infantry and 5,000 cavalry troopers. But the Spanish governor of the Netherlands, Alexander Farnese, the Duke of Parma, was a military genius. Even worse, the Dutch themselves were not unilaterally Protestant, and many welcomed the Spanish rulers. With the Dutch people divided, and Farnese's skill as a soldier and administrator, the Duke of Anjou's army was frustrated at every turn. Eventually, decided maybe ruling the Netherlands wasn't such a hot idea after all and went home.
That left a lot of locally recruited Protestant-friendly soldiers out of work. Most of them flocked to the nearest friendly city, Tournai, in modern Belgium. Its French-elected governor, Pierre de Melun, the Prince d'Espinoy, had created there a haven for a strong Protestant community. He was away, however, serving in the Prince of Orange's army. Farnese saw the leaderless town as easy prey, perhaps, and marched against it.
Governor Pierre's wife, known to the people as Princess Christine, surprised everyone by immediately taking command of the town and preparing to resist the Spanish. It should have been no surprise. Her father was Count Charles II, a Knight of the Order of the Golden Fleece and seasoned military veteran. Her mother was related to the French admiral Duke Montmorency, a war hero who opposed the sinister Cardinal Richelieu and came to a glorious end in battle. Defiance in the face of danger was in Christine's blood.
Donning armor, she appeared on the city walls and bolstered the courage of the citizens. Her words, as history has transmitted them: "It's me, the wife of your governor who is marching into war, risking his life for you and his country. Follow my lead! I would rather die than abandon my nation!" Or something like that.
According to some accounts, the soldiers wept with joy to see her. When Farnese maneuvered his troops into place against Tournai, he called upon the lieutenant of the garrison to surrender. But Christine herself appeared on the walls to answer him with what one witness called "a defiant refusal." The odds were against the town, but Christine's bravery inspired the soldiers to put up a valiant defense in the first assault, pushing the Spanish back from the town walls. Farnese, seething, settled in for a siege, writing that he would reduce the place in two weeks.
Two months and several major assaults later, the Spanish had not yet taken Tournai. Every day, the Princess Christine donned her armor and appeared on the town walls in sight of both the Dutch and Spanish. She was more than an inspiring figurehead - she issued orders to her husband's lieutenants and supervised all the defenses in person. When the Spanish attacked, she fought alongside the defenders. In a particularly hard-fought battle she took a terrible wound in the arm. Hearing this, Farnese again called for Tournai's surrender. Again, the Princess was defiant.
But this state of affairs couldn't last. Spanish sappers had been busy undermining the walls from outside the town. Meanwhile, inside the city, a Dominican friar called Father Gery - part of an order that essentially amounted to a black ops organization for the Vatican - was undermining the morale and spiritual confidence of the soldiers from within. There were also many Catholics in the town, and Father Gery had taken advantage of the turmoil to unite them.
With crumbling walls and hostile neighbors, the Protestants of Tournai begged the Princess to surrender the town. They told her they were afraid an insurrection would break out among the Catholic inhabitants any moment. Christine was hesitant. If the Spanish were true to their reputation, Farnese's men would brutally and thoroughly sack the town.
Like a good ruler, however, she was pragmatic enough to know when to quit. Had she not been, in her reported words, "abandoned by Protestants and Catholics alike," she would have fought on. Instead, she turned a strategic defeat into a victory of propaganda. Negotiating herself with Farnese under a flag of truce, she obtained surprisingly honorable terms of surrender. In lieu of storming through the town with fire and sword for rape, murder and looting, Farnese accepted a payment of 100,000 crowns from the city treasury. Princess Christine, with her cavalry escort and entourage, were allowed to pass through the gates of the town "with all the honors of war," carrying every last bit of her and her husband's personal property with her.
As the Princess passed through the ranks of her Spanish enemies, they spontaneously erupted in applause. Brutal and oppressive on the whole, there was a spirit of gallantry and daring among the Spanish commanders. Throughout the siege, Christine had acquired their respect. She marched to join her husband in Oudenaarde, and enjoyed a high reputation in Europe as the story spread. The couple retired to Antwerp where she died soon afterward (the manner of her death is not recorded).
In 1863, the city of Tournai erected a statue to honor her. It still stands today in the heart of Grand-Place in Tournai as a testament to the courage of a woman brave enough to thumb her nose at the Spanish Empire and live - at least a little while - to tell the tale.
Governor Pierre's wife, known to the people as Princess Christine, surprised everyone by immediately taking command of the town and preparing to resist the Spanish. It should have been no surprise. Her father was Count Charles II, a Knight of the Order of the Golden Fleece and seasoned military veteran. Her mother was related to the French admiral Duke Montmorency, a war hero who opposed the sinister Cardinal Richelieu and came to a glorious end in battle. Defiance in the face of danger was in Christine's blood.
Donning armor, she appeared on the city walls and bolstered the courage of the citizens. Her words, as history has transmitted them: "It's me, the wife of your governor who is marching into war, risking his life for you and his country. Follow my lead! I would rather die than abandon my nation!" Or something like that.
According to some accounts, the soldiers wept with joy to see her. When Farnese maneuvered his troops into place against Tournai, he called upon the lieutenant of the garrison to surrender. But Christine herself appeared on the walls to answer him with what one witness called "a defiant refusal." The odds were against the town, but Christine's bravery inspired the soldiers to put up a valiant defense in the first assault, pushing the Spanish back from the town walls. Farnese, seething, settled in for a siege, writing that he would reduce the place in two weeks.
Two months and several major assaults later, the Spanish had not yet taken Tournai. Every day, the Princess Christine donned her armor and appeared on the town walls in sight of both the Dutch and Spanish. She was more than an inspiring figurehead - she issued orders to her husband's lieutenants and supervised all the defenses in person. When the Spanish attacked, she fought alongside the defenders. In a particularly hard-fought battle she took a terrible wound in the arm. Hearing this, Farnese again called for Tournai's surrender. Again, the Princess was defiant.
But this state of affairs couldn't last. Spanish sappers had been busy undermining the walls from outside the town. Meanwhile, inside the city, a Dominican friar called Father Gery - part of an order that essentially amounted to a black ops organization for the Vatican - was undermining the morale and spiritual confidence of the soldiers from within. There were also many Catholics in the town, and Father Gery had taken advantage of the turmoil to unite them.
With crumbling walls and hostile neighbors, the Protestants of Tournai begged the Princess to surrender the town. They told her they were afraid an insurrection would break out among the Catholic inhabitants any moment. Christine was hesitant. If the Spanish were true to their reputation, Farnese's men would brutally and thoroughly sack the town.
Like a good ruler, however, she was pragmatic enough to know when to quit. Had she not been, in her reported words, "abandoned by Protestants and Catholics alike," she would have fought on. Instead, she turned a strategic defeat into a victory of propaganda. Negotiating herself with Farnese under a flag of truce, she obtained surprisingly honorable terms of surrender. In lieu of storming through the town with fire and sword for rape, murder and looting, Farnese accepted a payment of 100,000 crowns from the city treasury. Princess Christine, with her cavalry escort and entourage, were allowed to pass through the gates of the town "with all the honors of war," carrying every last bit of her and her husband's personal property with her.
As the Princess passed through the ranks of her Spanish enemies, they spontaneously erupted in applause. Brutal and oppressive on the whole, there was a spirit of gallantry and daring among the Spanish commanders. Throughout the siege, Christine had acquired their respect. She marched to join her husband in Oudenaarde, and enjoyed a high reputation in Europe as the story spread. The couple retired to Antwerp where she died soon afterward (the manner of her death is not recorded).In 1863, the city of Tournai erected a statue to honor her. It still stands today in the heart of Grand-Place in Tournai as a testament to the courage of a woman brave enough to thumb her nose at the Spanish Empire and live - at least a little while - to tell the tale.
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