of Mondragon.  Besides this, three other forts had been built, at intervals of about a mile, upon the dyke.  The one nearest to Mondragon was placed at the Kowenstyn manor-house, and was called Saint James.  This was entrusted to Camillo Bourbon del Monte, an Italian officer, who boasted the blood royal of France in his veins, and was disposed on all occasions to vindicate that proud pedigree by his deeds.  The next fort was Saint George’s, sometimes called the Black Sconce.  It had been built by La Motte, but it was now in command of the Spanish officer, Benites.  The third was entitled the Fort of the Palisades, because it had been necessary to support it by a stockade-work in the water, there being absolutely not earth enough to hold the structure.  It was placed in the charge of Captain Gamboa.  These little castles had been created, as it were, out of water and upon water, and under a hot fire from the enemy’s forts and fleets, which gave the pioneers no repose.

“’Twas very hard work,” said Parma, “our soldiers are so exposed during their labour, the rebels playing upon them perpetually from their musket-proof vessels.  They fill the submerged land with their boats, skimming everywhere as they like, while we have none at all.  We have been obliged to build these three forts with neither material nor space; making land enough for the foundation by bringing thither bundles of hurdles and of earth.  The fatigue and anxiety are incredible.  Not a man can sleep at night; not an officer nor soldier but is perpetually mounting guard.  But they are animated to their hard work by seeing that I share in it, like one of themselves.  We have now got the dyke into good order, so far as to be able to give them a warm reception, whenever they choose to come.”

Quite at the farther or land end of the Kowenstyn, was another fort, called the Stabroek, which commanded and raked the whole dyke, and was in the neighbourhood of Mansfeld’s head-quarters.

Placed as were these little citadels upon a slender, and—­at brief distance—­invisible thread of land, with the dark waters rolling around them far and near, they presented an insubstantial dream-like aspect, seeming rather like castles floating between air and ocean than actual fortifications—­a deceptive mirage rather than reality.  There was nothing imaginary, however, in the work which they were to perform.

A series of attacks, some serious, others fictitious, had been made, from time to time, upon both bridge and dyke; but Alexander was unable to inspire his soldiers with his own watchfulness.  Upon the 7th of May a more determined attempt was made upon the Kowenstyn, by the fleet from Lillo.  Hohenlo and Colonel Ysselstein conducted the enterprise.  The sentinels at the point selected—­having recently been so often threatened by an enemy, who most frequently made a rapid retreat, as to have grown weary and indifferent-were surprised, at dawn of day, and put to the sword.