Twelve hundred were now in hospital, besides those nursed in private houses, and he had no means or money to remedy the evil.

Moreover, the enemy, seeing that they were not opposed in the open field, had cut off the passage into Liege by the Meuse, and had advanced to Nivelles and Chimay for the sake of communications with France, by the same river.
Ten days after these pathetic passages had been written, the writer was dead.

Since the assassination of Escovedo, a consuming melancholy had settled upon his spirits, and a burning fever came, in the month of September, to destroy his physical strength.

The house where he lay was a hovel, the only chamber of which had been long used as a pigeon-house.
This wretched garret was cleansed, as well as it could be of its filth, and hung with tapestry emblazoned with armorial bearings.

In that dovecot the hero of Lepanto was destined to expire.