To a butcher who, with the instinct of his craft, begged to be informed what the population were to eat when the meat was all gone, he coolly observed, "We will eat you, villain, first of all, when the time comes; so go home and rest assured that you, at least, are not to die of starvation." With such rough but cheerful admonitions did the honest soldier, at the head of his little handful, sustain the courage of the beleaguered city.
Meantime Renneberg pressed it hard.

He bombarded it with red-hot balls, a new invention introduced five years before by Stephen Bathor, King of Poland, at the siege of Dantzig.

Many houses were consumed, but still Cornput and the citizens held firm.

As the winter advanced, and the succor which had been promised still remained in the distance, Renneberg began to pelt the city with sarcasms, which, it was hoped, might prove more effective than the red-hot balls.

He sent a herald to know if the citizens had eaten all their horses yet; a question which was answered by an ostentatious display of sixty starving hacks--all that could be mustered-upon the heights.