every road about Cambray was to swarm with French soldiers under their formidable king, kicking the heads of the Spaniards in all directions.  And what had they got? a child with thirty archers, sent by his father, and half a man at the head of four hundred dragoons.  To stand a siege under such circumstances against an army of fifteen thousand Spaniards, and to take Balagny’s copper as if it were gold, was more than could be asked of respectable burghers.

The allusion to the young prince Rhetelois and to De Vich, who had lost a leg in the wars, was received with much enthusiasm.  Balagny, appalled at the fury of the people, whom he had so long been trampling upon while their docility lasted, shrank back before their scornful denunciations into the citadel.

But his wife was not appalled.  This princess had from the beginning of the siege showed a courage and an energy worthy of her race.  Night and day she had gone the rounds of the ramparts, encouraging and directing the efforts of the garrison.  She had pointed batteries against the enemy’s works, and, with her own hands, had fired the cannon.  She now made her appearance in the market-place, after her husband had fled, and did her best to assuage the tumult, and to arouse the mutineers to a sense of duty or of shame.  She plucked from her bosom whole handfuls of gold which she threw among the bystanders, and she was followed by a number of carts filled with sacks of coin ready to be exchanged for the debased currency.

Expressing contempt for the progress made by the besieging army, and for the, slight impression so far produced upon the defences of the city, she snatched a pike from a soldier and offered in person to lead the garrison to the breach.  Her audience knew full well that this was no theatrical display, but that the princess was ready as the boldest warrior to lead a forlorn hope or to repel the bloodiest assault.  Nor, from a military point of view, was their situation desperate.  But their hatred and scorn for Balagny could not be overcome by any passing sentiment of admiration for his valiant though imperious wife.  No one followed her to the breach.  Exclaiming that she at least would never surrender, and that she would die a sovereign princess rather than live a subject, Renee de Balagny retained to the citadel.

The town soon afterwards capitulated, and as the Spanish soldiers, on entering, observed the slight damage that had been caused by their batteries, they were most grateful to the faint-hearted or mutinous condition by which they had been spared the expense of an assault.

The citadel was now summoned to surrender; and Balagny agreed, in case he should not be relieved within six days, to accept what was considered honourable terms.  It proved too late to expect succour from Henry, and Balagny, but lately a reigning prince, was fain to go forth on the appointed day and salute his conqueror.  But the princess kept her vow.  She had done her best to defend her dominions and to live a sovereign, and now there was nothing left her but to die.  With bitter reproaches on her husband’s pusillanimity, with tears and sobs of rage and shame, she refused food, spurned the idea of capitulation, and expired before the 9th of October.