and death. But there was no time for tears. All able-bodied persons were needed to render assistance.
Madam Chenoweth accompanied her husband to the hospital and even to the ramparts, where she moved about quietly, heedless of the rain of bullets as though they had been snowflakes, while she tenderly assisted her husband in the care of the wounded.
The brave women of Leyden rendered valuable service. Strong Frisian arms trundled wheelbarrows filled with stones to repair the breaches in the wall, or melted pitch for the burning hoops, which they hurled into the midst of their assailants, or loaded muskets and helped to remove the wounded to a place of safety.
The city was full of lamentation. There were few households that escaped the horrors of the siege. There was no "beacon height of lonely suffering" here. One touch of nature had made all Leyden akin.
Hilvardine Chenoweth took charge of the orphan children who had flocked into the city from Haarlem just before the siege. Katharine assisted in the hospital, where her sweet face and gentle words administered comfort to the sufferers. She had developed a courage foreign to her nature. As with the wife of one of the Frisian martyrs, "fear seemed to have fallen from her like a garment."
