The English and the Scotch, under Balfour and Morgan, were the very last to abandon the position which they had held so manfully seven hours long.  Honest Captain James, who fought to the last, and described the action the same night in the fewest possible words, was of opinion that the fleet had moved away only to obtain a better position.  “They put off to have more room to play on the enemy,” said he; “but the Hollanders and Zeelanders, seeing the enemy come on so hotly, and thinking our galleys would leave them, abandoned their string.  The Scots, seeing them to retire, left their string.  The enemy pursued very hotly; the Englishmen stood to repulse, and are put most to the sword.  In this shameful retreat there were slain or drowned to the number of two thousand.”  The blunt Englishman was justly indignant that an enterprise, so nearly successful, had been ruined by the desertion of its chiefs.  “We had cut the dyke in three places,” said he; “but left it most shamefully for want of commandment.”

Poor Koppen Loppen—­whose blunders on former occasions had caused so much disaster—­was now fortunate enough to expiate them by a soldier’s death.  Admiral Haultain had, as we have seen, been drowned at the commencement of the action.  Justinus de Nassau, at its close, was more successful in his retreat to the ships.  He, too, sprang into the water when the overthrow was absolute; but, alighting in some shallows, was able to conceal himself among weeds and waterlilies till he had divested himself of his armour, when he made his escape by swimming to a boat, which conveyed him to Lillo.  Roelke van Deest, an officer of some note, was so horribly wounded in the face, that he was obliged to wear a mask for the remainder of his life.

Parma, overjoyed at his victory, embraced Capizucca before the whole army, with warm expressions of admiration for his conduct.  Both the Italian colonel and his Spanish rival Aquila were earnestly recommended to Philip for reward and promotion.  The wounded Toralva was carried to Alexander’s own quarters, and placed in Alexander’s own bed, where he remained till his recovery, and was then presented—­a distinction which he much valued—­with the armour which the Prince had worn on the day of the battle.  Parma himself, so soon as the action was concluded, went with his chief officers straight from the field to the little village-church of Stabroek, where he fell upon his knees and offered up fervent thanks for his victory.  He next set about repairing the ruptured dyke, damaged in many places but not hopelessly ruined, and for this purpose the bodies of the rebels, among other materials, were cast by hundreds into the ditches which their own hands had dug.

Thus ended the eight hours’ fight on the Kowenstyn.  “The feast lasted from seven to eight hours,” said Parma, “with the most brave obstinacy on both sides that has been seen for many a long day.”  A thousand royalists were killed and twice as many patriots, and the issue of the conflict was most uncertain up to the very last.