admitted that no more accomplished pupil of the stadholder in the
beleaguering art had appeared in Europe than his present formidable
adversary. On this occasion, however, there was no great display of
science. Maurice obstinately refused to move to the relief of the place,
despite all the efforts of a deputation of the States-General who visited
his camp in September, urging him strenuously to take the chances of a
stricken field.

Nothing could induce the stadholder, who held an observing position at
Wesel, with his back against the precious watery quadrilateral, to risk
the defence of those most vital lines of the Yssel and the Waal. While
attempting to save Rheinberg, he felt it possible that he might lose
Nymegen, or even Utrecht. The swift but wily Genoese was not to be
trifled with or lost sight of an instant. The road to Holland might
still be opened, and the destiny of the republic might hang on the
consequences of a single false move. That destiny, under God, was in his
hands alone, and no chance of winning laurels, even from his greatest
rival's head, could induce him to shrink from the path of duty, however
obscure it might seem. There were a few brilliant assaults and sorties,
as in all sieges, the French volunteers especially distinguishing
themselves; but the place fell at the end of forty days. The garrison
marched out with the honours of war. In the modern practice, armies were
rarely captured in strongholds, nor were the defenders, together with the
population, butchered.

The loss, after a six weeks' siege, of Rheinberg, which six years before,
with far inferior fortifications, had held out a much longer time against
the States, was felt as a bitter disappointment throughout the republic.
Frederic Henry, on leaving the place, made a feeble and unsuccessful
demonstration against Yenlo, by which the general dissatisfaction was