ed,
retired from the walls, leaving at least one thousand dead in the
trenches, while only thirteen burghers and twenty-four of the garrison
lost their lives. Thus was Alkmaar preserved for a little longer--thus a
large and well-appointed army signally defeated by a handful of men
fighting for their firesides and altars. Ensign Solis, who had mounted
the breach for an instant, and miraculously escaped with life, after
having been hurled from the battlements, reported that he had seen
"neither helmet nor harness," as he looked down into the city: only some
plain-looking people, generally dressed like fishermen. Yet these
plain-looking fishermen had defeated the veterans of Alva.

The citizens felt encouraged by the results of that day's work. Moreover,
they already possessed such information concerning the condition of
affairs in the camp of the enemy as gave them additional confidence. A
Spaniard, named Jeronimo, had been taken prisoner and brought into the
city. On receiving a promise of pardon, he had revealed many secrets
concerning the position and intentions of the besieging army. It is
painful to add that the prisoner, notwithstanding his disclosures and the
promise under which they had been made, was treacherously executed. He
begged hard for his life as he was led to the gallows, offering fresh
revelations, which, however, after the ample communications already made,
were esteemed superfluous. Finding this of no avail, he promised his
captors, with perfect simplicity, to go down on his knees and worship the
Devil precisely as they did, if by so doing he might obtain mercy. It may
be supposed that such a proposition was not likely to gain additional
favor for him in the eyes of these rigid Calvinists, and the poor wretch
was accordingly hanged.

The day following the assault, a fresh cannonade was opened upon the
city. Seven hundred shots having been discharged, the attack was ordered.
It was in vain: neither threats nor entreaties could induce the
Spaniards, hitherto so indomitable, to mount the breach. The place seemed
to their imagination protected by more than mortal powers; otherwise how
was it possible that a few half-starved fishermen could already have so
triumphantly overthrown the time-honored legions of Spain. It was
thought, no doubt, that the Devil, whom they worshipped, would continue
to protect his children. Neither the entreaties nor the menaces of Don
Frederic were of any avail. Several soldiers