rlem compensation money--the rebellion was
appeased, and obedience restored.

There was now leisure for the General to devote his whole energies
against the little city of Alkmaar. On that bank and shoal, the extreme
verge of habitable earth, the spirit of Holland's Freedom stood at bay.
The grey towers of Egmont Castle and of Egmont Abbey rose between the
city and the sea, and there the troops sent by the Prince of Orange were
quartered during the very brief period in which the citizens wavered as
to receiving them. The die was soon cast, however, and the Prince's
garrison admitted. The Spaniards advanced, burned the village of Egmont
to the ground as soon as the patriots had left it, and on the 21st of
August Don Frederic, appearing before the walls, proceeded formally to
invest Allanaar. In a few days this had been so thoroughly accomplished
that, in Alva's language, "it was impossible for a sparrow to enter or go
out of the city." The odds were somewhat unequal. Sixteen thousand
veteran troops constituted the besieging force. Within the city were a
garrison of eight hundred soldiers, together with thirteen hundred
burghers, capable of bearing arms. The rest of the population consisted
of a very few refugees, besides the women and children. Two thousand one
hundred able-bodied men, of whom only about one-third were soldiers, to
resist sixteen thousand regulars.

Nor was there any doubt as to the fate which was reserved for them,
should they succumb. The Duke was vociferous at the ingratitude with
which his clemency had hitherto been requited. He complained bitterly of
the ill success which had attended his monitory circulars; reproached
himself with incredible vehemence, for his previous mildness, and
protested that, after having executed only twenty-three hundred persons
at the surrender of Harlem, besides a few additional burghers since, he
had met with no correspondent demonstrations of affection. He promised
himself, however, an ample compensation for all this ingratitude, in the
wholesale vengeance which he purposed to wreak upon Alkmaar. Already he
gloated in anticipation over the havoc which would soon be let loose
within those walls. Such ravings, if invented by the pen of fiction,
would seem a puerile caricature; proceeding, authentically, from his
own,--they still appear almost too exaggerated for belief. "If I take
Alkmaar," he wrote to Philip, "I am resolved not to leave a single
creature alive; the knif