isery, minutely detailed
to him by Alva, acted like magic. The blood of twenty-three hundred
of his fellow-creatures--coldly murdered by his orders, in a single
city--proved for the sanguinary monarch the elixir of life: he drank
and was refreshed. '_The principal medicine which has cured his
Majesty,_' wrote Secretary Cayas from Madrid to Alva, 'is the joy
caused to him by the _good news_ which you have communicated of _the
surrender of Haarlem_.'"

I know nothing of the women of Haarlem to-day, but in the sixteenth
century they were among the bravest and most efficient in the
world, and it was largely their efforts and example which enabled
the city to hold out so long. Motley describes them as a corps of
three hundred fighting women, "all females of respectable character,
armed with sword, musket, and dagger. Their chief, Kenau Hasselaer,
was a widow of distinguished family, and unblemished reputation,
about forty-seven years of age, who, at the head of her amazons,
participated in many of the most fiercely contested actions of the
siege, both within and without the walls. When such a spirit animated
the maids and matrons of the city, it might be expected that the men
would hardly surrender the place without a struggle."

Haarlem still preserves the pretty custom of hanging lace by
the doors of houses which the stork is expected to visit or has
just visited. Its origin was the humanity of the Spanish general,
during this great siege, in receiving a deputation of matrons from
the town and promising protection from his soldiery of all women in
childbed. Every house was to go unharmed upon which a piece of lace
signifying a confinement was displayed. This was a promise with which
the Duke of Alva seems not to have interfered.

The author of _Through Noord-Holland_ thus eloquently describes the
effect of Haarlem's great organ--for long the finest in the world:
"Vibrating rolls the tone through the church-building, followed
by sweet melodies, running through each register of it; now one
hears the sound of trumpets or soft whistling tunes then again piano
music or melancholical hautboy tunes chiming as well is deceivingly
imitated." Free recitals are given on Tuesdays and Thursdays from
one to two. On other days the organist can be persuaded to play for
a fee. Charles Lamb's friend Fell paid a ducat to the organist and
half a crown to the blower, and heard as much as he wanted. He found
the vox humana "the voice of a p