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.

On that day a procession moved out of the citadel gates. Balagny, with a
son of eleven years of age, the Prince of Rhetelois, the Commander De
Vich; and many other distinguished personages, all magnificently attired,
came forth at the head of what remained of the garrison. The soldiers,
numbering thirteen hundred foot and two hundred and forty horse, marched
with colours flying, drums beating, bullet in mouth, and all the other
recognised palliatives of military disaster. Last of all came a hearse,
bearing the coffin of the Princess of Cambray. Fuentes