force and led by the most accomplished generals of Spain, signally
and gloriously repelled by the plain burghers of Haarlem."

Cold and famine now began to assist the Spaniards, and the townsfolk
were reduced to every privation. The Spaniards also suffered and Don
Frederic wished to raise the siege. He suggested this step to his
father, but Alva was made of sterner stuff. He sent from Nymwegen a
grim message: "'Tell Don Frederic,' said Alva, 'that if he be not
decided to continue the siege till the town be taken, I shall no
longer consider him my son, whatever my opinion may formerly have
been. _Should he fall in the siege_, I will myself take the field to
maintain it; and when we have both perished, the Duchess, my wife,
shall come from Spain to do the same.' Such language was unequivocal,
and hostilities were resumed as fiercely as before. The besieged
welcomed them with rapture, and, as usual, made daily the most
desperate sallies. In one outbreak the Haarlemers, under cover of a
thick fog, marched up to the enemy's chief battery, and attempted to
spike the guns before his face. They were all slain at the cannon's
mouth, whither patriotism, not vainglory, had led them, and lay dead
around the battery, with their hammers and spikes in their hands. The
same spirit was daily manifested. As the spring advanced, the kine went
daily out of the gates to their peaceful pasture, notwithstanding all
the turmoil within and around; nor was it possible for the Spaniards
to capture a single one of these creatures, without paying at least
a dozen soldiers as its price. 'These citizens,' wrote Don Frederic,
'do as much as the best soldiers in the world could do.'"

The whole story is too dreadful to be told; but events proved the
implacable old soldier to be right. Month after month passed, assault
after assault was repulsed by the wretched but indomitable burghers;