Hardly had she spoken when sinister sounds were heard in the streets.  The first few stragglers, survivors of the deadly fight, had arrived with the fatal news that all was lost, the dyke regained, the Spaniards victorious, the whole band of patriots cut to pieces.  A few frightfully-wounded and dying sufferers were brought into the banqueting-hall.  Hohenlo sprang from the feast—­interrupted in so ghastly a manner—­pursued by shouts and hisses.  Howls of execration, saluted him in the streets, and he was obliged to conceal himself for a time, to escape the fury of the populace.

On the other hand, Parma was, not unnaturally, overjoyed at the successful issue to the combat, and expressed himself on the subject in language of (for him) unusual exultation.  “To-day, Sunday, 26th of June,” said he, in a letter to Philip, despatched by special courier on the very same night, “the Lord has been pleased to grant to your Majesty a great and most signal victory.  In this conjuncture of so great importance it may be easily conceived that the best results that can be desired will be obtained if your Majesty is now ready to do what is needful.  I congratulate your Majesty very many times on this occasion, and I desire to render infinite thanks to Divine Providence.”

He afterwards proceeded, in a rapid and hurried manner, to give his Majesty the outlines of the battle, mentioning, with great encomium, Capizucca and Aquila, Mondragon and Vasto, with many other officers, and recommending them for reward and promotion; praising, in short, heartily and earnestly, all who had contributed to the victory, except himself, to whose personal exertions it was chiefly due.  “As for good odd Mansfeld,” said he, “he bore himself like the man he is, and he deserves that your Majesty should send him a particular mark of your royal approbation, writing to him yourself pleasantly in Spanish, which is that which will be most highly esteemed by him.”  Alexander hinted also that Philip would do well to bestow upon Mansfeld the countship of Biart, as a reward for his long years of faithful service!

This action on the Kowenstyn terminated the effective resistance of Antwerp.  A few days before, the monster-vessel, in the construction of which so much time and money had been consumed, had at last been set afloat.  She had been called the War’s End, and, so far as Antwerp was concerned, the fates that presided over her birth seemed to have been paltering in a double sense when the ominous name was conferred.  She was larger than anything previously known in naval architecture; she had four masts and three helms.  Her bulwarks were ten feet thick; her tops were musket-proof.  She had twenty guns of largest size, besides many other pieces of artillery of lesser calibre, the lower tier of which was almost at the water’s level.  She was to carry one thousand men, and she was so supported on corks and barrels as to be sure to float under any circumstances.  Thus she was a great swimming fortress which could not be sunk, and was impervious to shot.  Unluckily, however, in spite of her four masts and three helms, she would neither sail nor steer, and she proved but a great, unmanageable and very ridiculous tub, fully justifying all the sarcasms that had been launched upon her during the period of her construction, which had been almost as long as the siege itself.