t be anticipated. For the present, Ostend was safe.

Early in the following spring, Verdugo again appeared before Coeworden in
force. It was obvious that the great city of Groningen, the mistress of
all the north-eastern provinces, would soon be attacked, and Coeworden
was the necessary base of any operations against the place. Fortunately
for the States, William Lewis had in the preceding autumn occupied and
fortified the only avenue through the Bourtange morass, so that when
Verdugo sat down before Coeworden, it was possible for Maurice, by moving
rapidly, to take the royal governor at a disadvantage.

Verdugo had eight thousand picked troops, including two thousand Walloon
cavalry, troopers who must have been very formidable, if they were to be
judged by the prowess of one of their captains, Gaucier by name. This
obedient Netherlander was in the habit of boasting that he had slain four
hundred and ten men with his own hand, including several prisoners and
three preachers; but the rest of those warriors were not so famed for
their martial achievements.

The peril, however, was great, and Prince Maurice, trifling not a moment,
threw himself with twelve thousand infantry, Germans, Frisians, Scotch,
English, and Hollanders, and nearly two thousand horse, at once upon the
road between the Vecht and the Bourtange morass. On the 6th of May,
Verdugo found the States' commander-in-chief trenched and impregnable,
squarely established upon his line of communications. He reconnoitred,
called a council of war, and decided that to assail him were madness; to
remain, destruction. On the night of the 6th of May, he broke up his camp
and stole away in the darkness, without sound of drum or trumpet, leaving
all his fortifications and burning all his huts.

Thus had Maurice, after showing the world how strong places were to be
reduced, given a striking exhibition of the manner in which they were to
be saved.

Coeworden, after thirty-one weeks' investment, was relieved.

The stadholder now marched upon Groningen. This city was one of the most
splendid and opulent of all the Netherland towns. Certainly it should
have been one of the most ancient in Europe, since it derived its
name--according to that pains-taking banker, Francis Guicciardini--"from
Grun, a Trojan gentleman," who, nevertheless, according to Munster, was
"a Frenchman by birth."--"Both theories, however, might be true," added
the conscientious Florentine, "as the Frenc