Meanwhile the siege of Maestricht had been advancing with steady precision.  To military minds of that epoch—­perhaps of later ages—­this achievement of Parma seemed a masterpiece of art.  The city commanded the Upper Meuse, and was the gate into Germany.  It contained thirty-four thousand inhabitants.  An army, numbering almost as many Souls, was brought against it; and the number of deaths by which its capture was at last effected, was probably equal to that of a moiety of the population.  To the technical mind, the siege no doubt seemed a beautiful creation of human intelligence.  To the honest student of history, to the lover of human progress, such a manifestation of intellect seems a sufficiently sad exhibition.  Given, a city with strong walls and towers, a slender garrison and a devoted population on one side; a consummate chieftain on the other, with an army of veterans at his back, no interruption to fear, and a long season to work in; it would not seem to an unsophisticated mind a very lofty exploit for the soldier to carry the city at the end of four months’ hard labor.

The investment of Maestricht was commenced upon the 12th of March, 1579.  In the city, besides the population, there were two thousand peasants, both men and women, a garrison of one thousand soldiers; and a trained burgher guard; numbering about twelve hundred.  The name of the military commandant was Melchior.  Sebastian Tappin, a Lorraine officer of much experience and bravery, was next in command, and was, in truth, the principal director of the operations.  He had been despatched thither by the Prince of Orange, to serve under La None, who was to have commanded in Maestricht, but had been unable to enter the city.  Feeling that the siege was to be a close one, and knowing how much depended upon the issue, Sebastian lost no time in making every needful preparation for coming events.  The walls were strengthened everywhere; shafts were sunk, preparatory to the countermining operations which were soon to become necessary; the moat was deepened and cleared, and the forts near the gates were put in thorough repair.  On the other hand, Alexander had encircled the city, and had thrown two bridges, well fortified, across the river.  There were six gates to the town, each provided with ravelins, and there was a doubt in what direction the first attack should be made.  Opinions wavered between the gate of Bois-le-Duc, next the river, and that of Tongres on the south-western side, but it was finally decided to attempt the gate of Tongres.

Over against that point the platforms were accordingly constructed, and after a heavy cannonade from forty-six great guns continued for several days, it was thought, by the 25th of March, that an impression had been made upon the city.  A portion of the brick curtain had crumbled, but through the breach was seen a massive terreplein, well moated, which, after six thousand shots already delivered on the outer wall—­still