One morning in March there came a party of peasants, fifteen or twenty in number, laden with sacks of chestnuts and walnuts, to the northernmost gate of the town.  They offered them for sale, as usual, to the soldiers at the guard-house, and chaffered and jested—­as boors and soldiers are wont to do—­over their wares.  It so happened that in the course of the bargaining one of the bags became untied, and its contents, much to the dissatisfaction of the proprietor, were emptied on the ground.  There was a scramble for the walnuts, and much shouting, kicking, and squabbling ensued, growing almost into a quarrel between the burgher-soldiers and the peasants.  As the altercation was at its height a heavy wagon, laden with long planks, came towards the gate for the use of carpenters and architects within the town.  The portcullis was drawn up to admit this lumbering vehicle, but in the confusion caused by the chance medley going on at the guard-house, the gate dropped again before the wagon had fairly got through the passage, and remained resting upon the timber with which it was piled.

At that instant a shrill whistle was heard; and as if by magic the twenty chestnut-selling peasants were suddenly transformed to Spanish and Walloon soldiers. armed to the teeth, who were presently reinforced by as many more of their comrades, who sprang from beneath the plank-work by which the real contents of the wagon had thus been screened.  Captain Dognano, his brother the sergeant-major, Captain d’Arco, and other officers of a Walloon regiment stationed in Dourlans, were the leaders of the little party, and while they were busily occupied in putting the soldiers of the watch, thus taken unawares, to death, the master-spirit of the whole adventure suddenly made his appearance and entered the city at the head of fifteen hundred men.  This was an extremely small, yellow, dried up, energetic Spanish captain, with a long red beard, Hernan Tello de Porto Carrero by came, governor of the neighbouring city of Dourlens, who had conceived this plan for obtaining possession of Amiens.  Having sent these disguised soldiers on before him, he had passed the night with his men in ambush until the signal should sound.  The burghers of the town were mostly in church; none were dreaming of an attack, as men rarely do—­for otherwise how should they ever be surprised—­and in half an hour Amiens was the property of Philip of Spain.  There were not very many lives lost, for the resistance was small, but great numbers were tortured for ransom and few women escaped outrage.  The sack was famous, for the city was rich and the captors were few in number, so that each soldier had two or three houses to plunder for his own profit.