is lungs, "Santiago! Santiago! the
Lombards have the gate of Bois-le-Duc!" while the same stratagem was
employed to persuade the invaders on the other side of the town that
their comrades had forced the gate of Tongres. The soldiers, animated by
this fiction, and advancing with fury against the famous ravelin; which
had been but partly destroyed, were received with a broadside from the
great guns of the unshattered portion, and by a rattling discharge of
musketry from the walls. They wavered a little. At the same instant the
new mine--which was to have been sprung between the ravelin and the gate,
but which had been secretly countermined by the townspeople, exploded
with a horrible concussion, at a moment least expected by the besiegers.
Five hundred royalists were blown into the air. Ortiz, a Spanish captain
of engineers, who had been inspecting the excavations, was thrown up
bodily from the subterranean depth. He fell back again instantly into the
same cavern, and was buried by the returning shower of earth which had
spouted from the mine. Forty-five years afterwards, in digging for the
foundations of a new wall, his skeleton was found. Clad in complete
armor, the helmet and cuirass still sound, with his gold chain around his
neck, and his mattock and pickaxe at his feet, the soldier lay
unmutilated, seeming almost capable of resuming his part in the same war
which--even after his half century's sleep--was still ravaging the land.

Five hundred of the Spaniards, perished by the explosion, but none of the
defenders were injured, for they, had been prepared. Recovering from the
momentary panic, the besiegers again rushed to the attack. The battle
raged. Six hundred and seventy officers, commissioned or
non-commissioned, had already fallen, more than half mortally wounded.
Four thousand royalists, horribly mutilated, lay on the ground. It was
time that the day's work should be finished, for Maastricht was not to be
carried upon that occasion. The best and bravest of the surviving
officers besought Parma to put an end to the carnage by recalling the
troops; but the gladiator heart of the commander was heated, not
softened, by the savage spectacle. "Go back to the breach," he cried,
"and tell the soldiers that Alexander is coming to lead them into the
city in triumph, or to perish with his comrades." He rushed forward with
the fury which had marked him when he boarded Mustapha's galley at
Lepanto; but all the generals who w