To the surprise of the besiegers, however, on the very next morning came a request from the governor of the city, Baron Hemart, to negotiate for a surrender.  Alexander was, naturally, but too glad to grant easy terms, and upon the 7th of June the garrison left the town with colours displayed and drums beating, and the Prince of Parma marched into it, at the head of his troops.  He found a year’s provision there for six thousand men, while, at the same time, the walls had suffered so little, that he must have been obliged to wait long for a practicable breach.

“There was no good reason even for women to have surrendered the place,” exclaimed Leicester, when he heard the news.  And the Earl had cause to be enraged at such a result.  He had received a letter only the day before, signed by Hemart himself and by all the officers in Grave, asserting their determination and ability to hold the place for a good five months, or for an indefinite period, and until they should be relieved.  And indeed all the officers, with three exceptions, had protested against the base surrender.  But at the bottom of the catastrophe—­of the disastrous loss of the city and the utter ruin of young Hemart—­was a woman.  The governor was governed by his mistress, a lady of good family in the place, but of Spanish inclinations, and she, for some mysterious reasons, had persuaded him thus voluntarily to capitulate.

Parma lost no time, however, in exulting over his success.  Upon the same day the towns of Megen and Batenburg surrendered to him, and immediately afterwards siege was laid to Venlo, a town of importance, lying thirty miles farther up the Meuse.  The wife and family of Martin Schenk were in the city, together with two hundred horses, and from forty to one hundred thousand crowns in money, plate; and furniture belonging to him.

That bold partisan, accompanied by the mad Welshman, Roger Williams, at the head of one hundred and thirty English lances and thirty of Schenk’s men, made a wild nocturnal attempt to cut their way through the besieging force, and penetrate to the city.  They passed through the enemy’s lines, killed all the corps-de-garde, and many Spanish troopers—­the terrible Martin’s own hand being most effective in this midnight slaughter—­and reached the very door of Parma’s tent, where they killed his secretary and many of his guards.  It was even reported; and generally believed, that Farnese himself had been in imminent danger, that Schenk had fired his pistol at him unsuccessfully, and had then struck him on the head with its butt-end, and that the Prince had only saved his life by leaping from his horse, and scrambling through a ditch.  But these seem to have been fables.  The alarm at last became general, the dawn of a summer’s day was fast approaching; the drums beat to arms, and the bold marauders were obliged to effect their retreat, as they best might, hotly pursued by near two thousand men.  Having slain many of, the Spanish army, and lost nearly half their own number, they at last obtained shelter in Wachtendonk.