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.  “If the truth must be told,” said Parma, “the sentries were sound asleep.”  Five hundred Zeelanders, with a strong party of sappers and miners, fairly established themselves upon the dyke, between St. George’s and Fort Palisade.  The attack, although spirited at its commencement, was doomed to be unsuccessful.  A co-operation, agreed upon by the fleet from Antwerp, failed through a misunderstanding.  Sainte Aldegonde had stationed certain members of the munition-chamber in the cathedral tower, with orders to discharge three rockets, when they should perceive a beacon-fire which he should light in Fort Tholouse.  The watchmen mistook an accidental camp-fire in the neighbourhood for the preconcerted signal, and sent up the rockets.  Hohenlo understanding, accordingly, that the expedition was on the point of starting from Antwerp, hastened to perform his portion of the work, and sailed up from Lillo.  He did his duty faithfully and well, and established himself upon the dyke, but found himself alone and without sufficient force to maintain his position.  The Antwerp fleet never sailed.  It was even whispered that the delinquency was rather intended than accidental; the Antwerpers being supposed desirous to ascertain the result of Hohenlo’s attempt before coming forth to share his fate.  Such was the opinion expressed by Farnese in his letters to Philip, but it seems probable that he was mistaken.  Whatever the cause, however, the fact of the Zeelanders’ discomfiture was certain.  The St. George battery and that of the Palisade were opened at once upon them, the balls came plunging among the sappers and miners before they had time to throw up many spade-fulls of earth, and the whole party were soon dead or driven from the dyke.  The survivors effected their retreat as they best could, leaving four of their ships behind them and three or four hundred men.

“Forty rebels lay dead on the dyke,” said Parma, “and one hundred and fifty more, at least, were drowned.  The enemy confess a much larger loss than the number I state, but I am not a friend of giving details larger than my ascertained facts; nor do I know how many were killed in the boats.”