which the burghers’ hands could find.  Heavy stones, boiling oil, live coals, were hurled upon the heads of the soldiers; hoops, smeared with pitch and set on fire, were dexterously thrown upon their necks.  Even Spanish courage and Spanish ferocity were obliged to shrink before the steady determination of a whole population animated by a single spirit.  Romero lost an eye in the conflict, many officers were killed and wounded, and three or four hundred soldiers left dead in the breach, while only three or four of the townsmen lost their lives.  The signal of recal was reluctantly given, and the Spaniards abandoned the assault.  Don Frederic was now aware that Harlem would not fall at his feet at the first sound of his trumpet.  It was obvious that a siege must precede the massacre.  He gave orders therefore that the ravelin should be undermined, and doubted not that, with a few days’ delay, the place would be in his hands.

Meantime, the Prince of Orange, from his head-quarters at Sassenheim, on the southern extremity of the mere, made a fresh effort to throw succor into the place.  Two thousand men, with seven field-pieces, and many wagon-loads of munitions, were sent forward under Batenburg.  This officer had replaced De la Marck, whom the Prince had at last deprived of his commission.  The reckless and unprincipled freebooter was no longer to serve a cause which was more sullied by his barbarity than it could be advanced by his desperate valor.  Batenburg’s expedition was, however, not more successful than the one made by his predecessor.  The troops, after reaching the vicinity of the city, lost their way in the thick mists, which almost perpetually enveloped the scene.  Cannons were fired, fog-bells were rung, and beacon fires were lighted on the ramparts, but the party was irretrievably lost.  The Spaniards fell upon them before they could find their way to the city.  Many were put to the sword, others made their escape in different directions; a very few succeeded in entering Harlem.  Batenburg brought off a remnant of the forces, but all the provisions so much needed were lost, and the little army entirely destroyed.

De Koning, the second in command, was among the prisoners.  The Spaniards cut off his head and threw it over the walls into the city, with this inscription:  “This is the head of Captain de Koning, who is on his way with reinforcements for the good city of Harlem.”  The citizens retorted with a practical jest, which was still more barbarous.  They cut off the heads of eleven prisoners and put them into a barrel, which they threw into the Spanish camp.  A Label upon the barrel contained these words:  “Deliver these ten heads to Duke Alva in payment of his tenpenny tax, with one additional head for interest.”  With such ghastly merriment did besieged and besiegers vary the monotonous horror of that winter’s siege.  As the sallies and skirmishes were of daily occurrence, there was a constant supply of prisoners, upon whom both parties might exercise their ingenuity, so that the gallows in camp or city was perpetually garnished.