unsuccessfully warning the citizens of Renneberg's meditated treason,
commanded in Steenwyk, and his courage and cheerfulness sustained the
population of the city during a close winter siege. Tumultuous mobs in
the streets demanding that the place should be given over ere it was too
late, he denounced to their faces as "flocks of gabbling geese," unworthy
the attention of brave men. To a butcher who, with the instinct of his
craft, begged to be informed what the population were to eat when the
meat was all gone, he coolly observed, "We will eat you, villain, first
of all, when the time comes; so go home and rest assured that you, at
least, are not to die of starvation."

With such rough but cheerful admonitions did the honest soldier, at the
head of his little handful, sustain the courage of the beleaguered city.
Meantime Renneberg pressed it hard. He bombarded it with red-hot balls,
a new invention introduced five years before by Stephen Bathor, King of
Poland, at the siege of Dantzig. Many houses were consumed, but still
Cornput and the citizens held firm. As the winter advanced, and the
succor which had been promised still remained in the distance, Renneberg
began to pelt the city with sarcasms, which, it was hoped, might prove
more effective than the red-hot balls. He sent a herald to know if the
citizens had eaten all their horses yet; a question which was answered by
an ostentatious display of sixty starving hacks--all that could be
mustered-upon the heights. He sent them on another occasion, a short
letter, which ran as follows:

"MOST HONORABLE, MOST STEADFAST,--As, during the present frost, you have
but little exercise in the trenches--as you cannot pass your time in
twirling your finger-rings, seeing that they have all been sold to pay
your soldiers' wages--as you have nothing to rub your teeth upon, nor to
scour your stomachs withal, and as, nevertheless, you require something