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Houses were toppled down miles away, and not a living thing, even in remote places, could keep its feet. The air was filled with a rain of ploughshares, grave stones, and marble balls, intermixed with the heads, limbs, and bodies of what had been human beings. Slabs of granite vomited by the flaming ship were afterwards found at a league distant, and buried deep in the earth. A thousand soldiers were destroyed in a second of time, many of them being torn to shreds, beyond even the semblance of humanity.

"Richebourg disappeared, and was not found until several days later, when his body was discovered doubled round an iron chain which hung from one of the bridge boats in the centre of the river. The veteran noble, Seigneur de Billy, a Portuguese officer of eminent service and high military rank, was also destroyed. Months afterwards his body was discovered adhering to the timber-work of the bridge upon the ultimate removal of that structure, and was only recognized by a peculiar gold chain, which he habitually wore. Parma himself was thrown to the ground, stunned by a blow on the shoulder from a flying stake. The page, who was behind him carrying his helmet, fell dead without a wound, killed by the concussion of the air. Several strange and less tragical incidents occurred. The Viscount de Bruxelles was blown out of a boat on the Flemish side, and descended safe and sound into another in the centre of the stream. armour, was whisked out of a fort, and then fell back into the river. good swimmer, and very pious, he skilfully divested himself of cuirass and helmet, recommended himself to the blessed Virgin, and swam safely ashore. Another young officer of Parma's body guard, François de Liege by name, standing on the Kalloo end of the bridge, rose like a feather into the clouds, and flying quite across the river, alighted on the opposite bank, with no further harm than a contused shoulder. He imagined himself (he said afterwards) to have been changed into a cannon-ball, as he rushed through the pitchy atmosphere, propelled by a blast of irresistible fury.”

Captain Tucci, clad in complete shot perpendicularly into the air, Being of a cool temperament, a

The ingenuity of the Mantuan engineer and Dutch watchmaker had accomplished the required work. Parma's famous bridge was shattered, some of his bravest officers, and a thousand of his men, killed. A Zeland fleet was ready to follow up this good beginning by an immediate attack on the disconcerted Spaniards. The sails were spread, the oars

in the rowholes, all Antwerp astir waiting for the signal. It had been arranged that, if the plan was successful, the admiral-old Jacob Run-away-should send up a rocket. He was in his barge, waiting and watching, and nervously anxious for the result. The result was so far beyond his expectations that he became alarmed, confused, and instead of sending up the rocket, came back to the disheartened citizens with a dismal story of failure. If ever a coward deserved hanging—a long cord and a short shrift—that man was the Dutch admiral, a very different sort of man from De Tromp or De Ruyter; and if ever there was a man who would cheerfully have hanged old Jacob, I should say that man was the Mantuan inventor. His plan had succeeded. The Spaniards were discomfited; all that was required-as well Prince Parma knew— was immediate and vigorous action on the part of the patriots. They did nothing; and he set his army in array, and mended his broken bridge. The success of the experiment, however, made the Spaniards feel that they needed all their prudence, as well as all their courage, to carry on the siege. "They are never idle in the city," wrote Prince Parma to the king. "They are perpetually proving their obstinacy and pertinacity by their industrious genius and the machinery which they devise. Every day we are expecting some new invention. On our side we endeavour to counteract their efforts by every human means in our power. Nevertheless, I confess that our merely human intellect is not competent to penetrate the design of their diabolical genius. Certainly most wonderful and extraordinary things have been exhibited, such as the oldest soldiers here have never before witnessed."

Alexander of Parma had indeed very much with which to contend; and the parsimony of Philip of Spain was almost as dangerous, and certainly quite as vexatious as the "diabolical ingenuity" of the patriots. The Spaniards were so reduced by sickness that it was pitiful to see them. Neither the Italians nor Germans were in much better condition; and the Walloons were rapidly deserting.

As for the Antwerpers, they saw plainly that their only hope of deliverance lay in piercing the dyke which ought to have been piercedeven at the cost of twelve thousand bullocks-some months before, but was now held by the Spaniards in great force. Could the Kowenstyn be pierced, the water divided by that formidable bulwark into two great lakes, would flow together in one continuous sea-and a wide sheet of navigable water would thus roll between Antwerp and the Zeland

coasts, and Parma, his troops, and his famous bridge, would be all defeated.

But Parma was well aware of the importance of the dyke, and held it with tenacity. A little string of citadels-forts that seemed to rise

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out of the water-were built along the narrow strip of land, and strongly garrisoned. Two or three well-planned attempts were made by the patriots upon this line of defence, but with no permanent success. The object, however, to be gained by piercing the dyke was so important that a general effort was resolved on by the Antwerpers; and the burgo

master Aldegonde and the most distinguished men of the time, including Jacob Run-away, who was fortunately drowned, set forth one May morning for the purpose of piercing the dyke.

As the sentinels on the Kowenstyn looked out from their dreary posts over the dull grey mass of waters, they saw four "fiery apparitions" gliding towards them. The alarm was given, and the troops began somewhat reluctantly to muster upon the dyke. The Spaniards entertained a mysterious dread of those demon-vessels which had done so much injury, and threatened so much more, to Parma's bridge. But the vessels which now floated towards the Kowenstyn were mere ordinary fire ships— things of tar, pitch, resin, wood, and gunpowder-that blazed bravely, but did no harm. Still they answered the purpose: as the attention of the Spanish soldiers was engaged with them, expecting every moment an eruption-a shower of ploughshares and grave stones-a great swarm of gun boats and other vessels skimmed across the leaden-coloured waters, and a company of wild Zelanders and other volunteers sprung on the dyke. A frightful struggle ensued; face to face; breast to breast; arm to arm : a struggle that must have ended in the destruction of the Zelanders, had not the Antwerp fleet appeared swiftly to the rescue, and Saint Aldegonde, with Hohenlo and three thousand brave fellows, effected a landing and driven the Spaniards from the dyke.

With woolsacks, sand-bags, hurdles, planks, and other materials brought with them, the patriots rapidly entrenched themselves in the position so brilliantly gained; while the miners, without an instant's delay, commenced the labour of piercing the dyke. But the Spaniards were by no means willing to accept their defeat. They returned to the attack, and fought desperately on that narrow strip of land-not six paces wide-but all-important to the interests of Spain and Holland. They fought with brave obstinacy, Dutchmen and Spaniards alike,— "soldiers, citizens and all, they were like mad bull dogs." But while the contest was thus warmly maintained, the miners never for a moment ceased their work. They knew their picks and shovels were doing as brave work for Antwerp as the pikes and carbines of those who fought. Their labour was rewarded. A shout of triumph signalled their victory as the salt water rushed like a river through the ruptured dyke, and a Zeland barge floated into the waters now no longer an inland sea. Still only a portion of the barrier was destroyed. Those who had begun the work must finish it before they should congratulate themselves on a vic

tory consummated. It was, therefore, to be regretted that in their presumed success the leaders of the Antwerpers and Hollanders should prove themselves incompetent to their position. Saint Aldegonde and Hohenlo sprung into the first barge that passed the dyke in order that they might in person carry the news of the victory to Antwerp.

For some hours after they had departed, those who were left behind laboured steadily at the work of destruction unmolested by the Spaniards. But their enemies were not idle. Count Mansfeld-a grizzled veteran, who had passed his whole life under fire-still held one end of the dyke, and was unwilling to accept defeat. As for Parma he was miles away. There were some three thousand Hollanders, Antwerpers, and English, all busy as beavers at the dyke, and all fierce as "mad bull dogs;" there was a fleet of vessels pouring in a broadside on the Spaniards, but still old Peter Mansfeld was reluctant to concede the triumph. The bells of Antwerp were ringing merrily, bonfires blazing, for the boat-load of bread and beef-earnest of what was to come-had arrived; cannon thundered in triumph, and a magnificent banquet was spread in the town-house to greet the conquerors. There was Hohenlo at the head of the table draining huge goblets to the conquerors of the Royalists; a bevy of fair dames surrounded him and Aldegonde-ladies such as Rubens would have delighted to paint-all smiles for the victors; victors who, to-morrow, tomorrow, to-morrow, would read Spain a lesson never to be forgotten--tomorrow, to-morrow! Gentlemen, charge your cups!

In the midst of the banquet strange sounds were heard in the streets; perhaps it was a tipsy brawl, perhaps it was an accident; perhaps—all the Rubens' ladies turned from red to white, from smiles to sadness-perhaps, those outrageous Spaniards had not been beaten after all! Too soon the truth of the surmise was confirmed; a few stragglers who had escaped from the dyke came in to tell of disaster and defeat. Old Peter Mansfeld had, it appeared, summoned a council of war; there the majority were of opinion that they should do nothing until they had communicated with Alexander. But an Italian colonel, Camillo Capizucca had vehemently proposed an immediate attack. "What difference will it make," he asked, "whether we defer our action until either darkness or the General arrives? In each case we give the enemy time enough to destroy the dyke, and thoroughly to relieve the city. That done, what good can be accomplished by our army? Then our disheartened soldiers will either shrink from fruitless combat or march to certain death!" The words

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