lly submitted. On the 22nd of November a company of one hundred
troopers was sent to the city gates to demand its surrender. The small
garrison which had been left by the Prince was not disposed to resist,
but the spirit of the burghers was stouter than, their walls. They
answered the summons by a declaration that they had thus far held the
city for the King and the Prince of Orange, and, with God's help, would
continue so to do. As the horsemen departed with this reply, a lunatic,
called Adrian Krankhoeft, mounted the ramparts and, discharged a
culverine among them. No man was injured, but the words of defiance, and
the shot fired by a madman's hand, were destined to be fearfully
answered.

Meanwhile, the inhabitants of the place, which was at best far from
strong, and ill provided with arms, ammunition, or soldiers, despatched
importunate messages to Sonoy, and to ether patriot generals nearest to
them, soliciting reinforcements. Their messengers came back almost empty
handed. They brought a little powder and a great many promises, but not a
single man-at-arms, not a ducat, not a piece of artillery. The most
influential commanders, moreover, advised an honorable capitulation, if
it were still possible.

Thus baffled, the burghers of the little city found their proud position
quite untenable. They accordingly, on the 1st of December, despatched the
burgomaster and a senator to Amersfoort, to make terms, if possible, with
Don Frederic. When these envoys reached the place, they were refused
admission to the general's presence. The army had already been ordered to
move forward to Naarden, and they were directed to accompany the advance
guard, and to expect their reply at the gates of their own city. This
command was sufficiently ominous. The impression which it made upon them
was confirmed by the warning voices of their friends in Amersfoort, who
entreated them not to return to Naarden. The advice was not lost upon one
of the two envoys. After they had advanced a little distance on their
journey, the burgomaster Laurentszoon slid privately out of the sledge in
which they were travelling, leaving his cloak behind him. "Adieu; I think
I will not venture back to Naarden at present," said he, calmly, as he
abandoned his companion to his fate. The other, who could not so easily
desert his children, his wife, and his fellow-citizens, in the hour of
danger, went forward as calmly to share in their impending doom.

The army rea