ents to relieve the siege, the Duchess had sent a
fresh summons to Valenciennes, together with letters acquainting the
citizens with the results of the Ostrawell battle. The intelligence was
not believed. Egmont and Aerschot, however, to whom Margaret had
entrusted this last mission to the beleaguered town, roundly rebuked the
deputies who came to treat with them, for their insolence in daring to
doubt the word of the Regent. The two seigniors had established
themselves in the Chateau of Beusnage, at a league's distance from
Valenciennes. Here they received commissioners from the city, half of
whom were Catholics appointed by the magistrates, half Calvinists deputed
by the consistories. These envoys were informed that the Duchess would
pardon the city for its past offences, provided the gates should now be
opened, the garrison received, and a complete suppression of all religion
except that of Rome acquiesced in without a murmur. As nearly the whole
population was of the Calvinist faith, these terms could hardly be
thought favorable. It was, however, added, that fourteen days should be
allowed to the Reformers for the purpose of converting their property,
and retiring from the country.

The deputies, after conferring with their constituents in the city,
returned on the following day with counter-propositions, which were not
more likely to find favor with the government. They offered to accept the
garrison, provided the soldiers should live at their own expense, without
any tax to the citizens for their board, lodging, or pay. They claimed
that all property which had been seized should be restored, all persons
accused of treason liberated. They demanded the unconditional revocation
of the edict by which the city had been declared rebellious, together
with a guarantee from the Knights of the Fleece and the state council
that the terms of the propose& treaty should be strictly observed.

As soon as these terms had been read to the two seigniors, the Duke of
Aerschot burst into an immoderate fit of laughter. He protested that
nothing could be more ludicrous than such propositions, worthy of a
conqueror dictating a peace, thus offered by a city closely beleaguered,
and entirely at the mercy of the enemy. The Duke's hilarity was not
shared by Egmont, who, on the contrary, fell into a furious passion. He
swore that the city should be burned about their ears, and that every one
of the inhabitants should be put to the sword for