who had forfeited their right to be considered soldiers--but jeered at
for the last time.

From 30th May to 9th June the prince was occupied in throwing up
earthworks on the low grounds in order to bring his guns into position.
On the 13th June he began to batter with forty-five pieces, but effected
little more than to demolish some of the breast-works. He threw hot shot
into the town very diligently, too, but did small damage. The
cannonading went on for nearly a week, but the practice was so very
indifferent--notwithstanding the protection of the blessed Barbara and
the tuition of the busmasters--that the besieged began to amuse
themselves with these empty and monotonous salvos of the honourable
Artillery Guild. When all this blazing and thundering had led to no
better result than to convert a hundred thousand good Flemish florins
into noise and smoke, the thrifty Netherlanders on both sides of the
walls began to disparage the young general's reputation. After all,
they said, the Spaniards were right when they called artillery mere
'espanta-vellacos' or scare-cowards. This burrowing and bellowing must
at last give place to the old-fashioned push of pike, and then it would
be seen who the soldiers were. Observations like these were freely made
under a flag of truce; for on the 19th June--notwithstanding their
contempt for the 'espanta-vellacos'--the besieged had sent out a
deputation to treat for an honourable surrender. Maurice entertained the
negotiators hospitably in his own tent, but the terms suggested to him
were inadmissible. Nothing came of the conference therefore but mutual
criticisms, friendly enough, although sufficiently caustic.

Maurice now ceased cannonading, and burrowed again for ten days without
interruption. Four mines, leading to different points of the defences,
were patiently constructed, and two large chambers at the terminations,