airs
was quite unchanged--the rash and weak De Vidosan proclaimed that the
reinforcements stipulated in his conditional capitulation having arrived,
he should now resume hostilities. Whereupon he opened fire, upon the
town, and a sentry was killed. De Rosne, furious, at what he considered a
breach of faith, directed a severe cannonade against the not very
formidable walls of the castle. During the artillery engagement which
ensued the Prince of Orange, who had accompanied De Rosne to the siege,
had a very narrow escape. A cannon-ball from the town took off the heads
of two Spaniards standing near him, bespattering him with their blood and
brains. He was urged to retire, but assured those about him that he came
of too good a house to be afraid. His courage was commendable, but it
seems not to have occurred to him that the place for his father's son was
not by the aide of the general who was doing the work of his father's
murderer. While his brother Maurice with a fleet of twenty Dutch
war-ships was attempting in vain to rescue Calais from the grasp of the
Spanish king, Philip William of Nassau was looking on, a pleased and
passive spectator of the desperate and unsuccessful efforts at defence.
The assault was then ordered? The-first storm was repulsed, mainly by the
Dutch companies, who fought in the breach until most of their numbers
were killed or wounded, their captains Dominique and Le Gros having both
fallen. The next attack was successful, the citadel was carried; and the
whole garrison, with exception of what remained of the Hollanders and
Zeelanders, put to the sword. De Vidosan himself perished. Thus Calais
was once more a Spanish city, and was re-annexed to the obedient
provinces of Flanders. Of five thousand persons, soldiers and citizens,
who had taken refuge in the castle, all were killed or reduced to
captivity.'

The conversion of this important naval position into a Spanish-Flemish
station was almost as disastrous to the republic as it was mortifying to
France and dangerous to England. The neighbouring Dunkirk had long been a
nest of pirates, whence small, fast-sailing vessels issued, daily and
nightly, to prey indiscriminately upon the commerce of all nations. These
corsairs neither gave nor took quarter, and were in the habit, after they
had plundered their prizes, of setting them adrift, with the sailors
nailed to the deck or chained to the rigging; while the officers were
held for ransom. In case the