in reply, was prodigal of promises, reminding the young noble "that he
was serving a sovereign who well knew how to reward the distinguished
exploits of his subjects." Such was the language of Philip the Second
and his Governor to the son of the headless hero of Saint Quentin; such
was the fawning obsequiousness with which Egmont could kiss that royal
hand reeking with his father's blood.

Meanwhile the siege of Maestricht had been advancing with steady
precision. To military minds of that epoch--perhaps of later ages--this
achievement of Parma seemed a masterpiece of art. The city commanded the
Upper Meuse, and was the gate into Germany. It contained thirty-four
thousand inhabitants. An army, numbering almost as many Souls, was
brought against it; and the number of deaths by which its capture was at
last effected, was probably equal to that of a moiety of the population.
To the technical mind, the siege no doubt seemed a beautiful creation of
human intelligence. To the honest student of history, to the lover of
human progress, such a manifestation of intellect seems a sufficiently
sad exhibition. Given, a city with strong walls and towers, a slender
garrison and a devoted population on one side; a consummate chieftain on
the other, with an army of veterans at his back, no interruption to fear,
and a long season to work in; it would not seem to an unsophisticated
mind a very lofty exploit for the soldier to carry the city at the end of
four months' hard labor.

The investment of Maestricht was commenced upon the 12th of March, 1579.
In the city, besides the population, there were two thousand peasants,
both men and women, a garrison of one thousand soldiers; and a trained
burgher guard; numbering about twelve hundred. The name of the military
commandant was Melchior. Sebastian Tappin, a Lorraine officer of much
experience and bravery, was next in command, and was, in truth, the