de Rohan, and other French
volunteers of quality, also threw themselves into the place, in order to
take lessons in the latest methods of attack and defence. It was now
admitted that no more accomplished pupil of the stadholder in the
beleaguering art had appeared in Europe than his present formidable
adversary. On this occasion, however, there was no great display of
science. Maurice obstinately refused to move to the relief of the place,
despite all the efforts of a deputation of the States-General who visited
his camp in September, urging him strenuously to take the chances of a
stricken field.

Nothing could induce the stadholder, who held an observing position at
Wesel, with his back against the precious watery quadrilateral, to risk
the defence of those most vital lines of the Yssel and the Waal. While
attempting to save Rheinberg, he felt it possible that he might lose
Nymegen, or even Utrecht. The swift but wily Genoese was not to be
trifled with or lost sight of an instant. The road to Holland might still
be opened, and the destiny of the republic might hang on the consequences
of a single false move. That destiny, under God, was in his hands alone,
and no chance of winning laurels, even from his greatest rival's head,
could induce him to shrink from the path of duty, however obscure it
might seem. There were a few brilliant assaults and sorties, as in all
sieges, the French volunteers especially distinguishing themselves; but
the place fell at the end of forty days. The garrison marched out with
the honours of war. In the modern practice, armies were rarely captured
in strongholds, nor were the defenders, together with the population,
butchered.

The loss, after a six weeks' siege, of Rheinberg, which six years before,
with far inferior fortifications, had held out a much longer time against
the States, was felt as a bitter disappointment throughout the republic.
Frederic Henry, on leaving the place, made a feeble and unsuccessful
demonstration against Yenlo, by which the general dissatisfaction was not
diminished. Soon afterwards, the war became more languid than ever. News
arrived of a great crisis on the Genoa exchange. A multitude of
merchants, involved in pecuniary transactions with Spinola, fell with one
tremendous crash. The funds of the Catholic commander-in-chief were
already exhausted, his acceptances could no longer be negotiated.

His credit was becoming almost as bad as the king's own. The inevi