In fact, fortune had never smiled so favorably on the besieged as at
that moment. The enemy, exhausted and dispirited, had thrown themselves
into their batteries, and, far from being able to struggle with the
victors for the post they had conquered, they found themselves rather
besieged in the places where they had taken refuge. Some companies of
Scots, led by their brave colonel, Balfour, attacked the battery of St.
George, which, however, was relieved, but not without severe loss, by
Camillo di Monte, who hastened thither from St. James' battery. The
Pile battery was in a much worse condition, it being hotly cannonaded by
the ships, and threatened every moment to crumble to pieces. Gainboa,
who commanded it, lay wounded, and it was unfortunately deficient in
artillery to keep the enemy at a distance. The breastwork, too, which
the Zealanders had thrown up between this battery and that of St.
George cut off all hope of assistance from the Scheldt. If, therefore,
the Belgians had only taken advantage of this weakness and inactivity of
the enemy to proceed with zeal and perseverance in cutting through the
dam, there is no doubt that a passage might have been made, and thus put
an end to the whole siege. But here also the same want of consistent
energy showed itself which had marked the conduct of the people of
Antwerp during the whole course of the siege. The zeal with which the
work had been commenced cooled in proportion to the success which
attended it. It was soon found too tedious to dig through the dyke; it
seemed far easier to transfer the cargoes from the large store-ships
into smaller ones, and carry these to the town with the flood tide. St.
Aldegonde and Hohenlohe, instead of remaining to animate the industry of
the workmen by their personal presence, left the scene of action at the
decisive moment, in order, by sailing to the town with a corn vessel, to
win encomiums on their wisdom and valor.

While both parties were fighting on the dam with the most obstinate fury
the bridge over the Scheldt had been attacked from Antwerp with new
machines, in order to give employment to the prince in that quarter.
But the sound of the firing soon apprised him of what was going on at
the dyke, and as soon as he saw the bridge clear he hastened to support
the defence of the dyke. Followed by two hundred Spanish pikemen, he
flew to the place of attack, and arrived just in time to prevent the
complete defeat of his troops. He hastily posted some guns which he had
brought with him in the two nearest redoubts, and maintained from thence
a heavy fire upon the enemy's ships. He placed himself at the head of
his men, and, with his sword in one hand and shield in the other, led
them against the enemy. The news of his arrival, which quickly spread
from one end of the dyke to the other, revived the drooping spirits of
his troops, and the conflict recommenced with renewed violence, made
still more murderous by the nature of the ground where it was fought.
Upon the narrow ridge of the dam, which in many places was not more than
nine paces broad, about five thousand combatants were fighting; so
confined was the spot upon which the strength of both armies was
assembled, and which was to decide the whole issue of the siege. With
the Antwerpers the last bulwark of their city was at stake; with the
Spaniards it was to determine the whole success of their undertaking.
Both parties fought with a courage which despair alone could inspire.
From both the extremities of the dam the tide of war rolled itself
towards the centre, where the Zealanders and Antwerpers had the
advantage, and where they had collected their whole strength. The
Italians and Spaniards, inflamed by a noble emulation, pressed on from
Stabroek; and from the Scheldt the Walloons and Spaniards advanced, with
their general at their head. While the former endeavored to relieve the
Pile battery, which was hotly pressed by the enemy, both by sea and
land, the latter threw themselves on the breastwork, between the St.
George and the Pile batteries, with a fury which carried everything
before it. Here the flower of the Belgian troops fought behind a
well-fortified rampart, and the guns of the two fleets covered this
important post. The prince was already pressing forward to attack this
formidable defence with his small army when he received intelligence that
the Italians and Spaniards, under Capizucchi and Aquila, had forced their
way, sword in hand, into the Pile battery, had got possession of it, and
were now likewise advancing from the other side against the enemy's
breastwork. Before this intrenchment, therefore, the whole force of both
armies was now collected, and both sides used their utmost efforts to
carry and to defend this position. The Netherlanders on board the fleet,
loath to remain idle spectators of the conflict, sprang ashore from their
vessels. Alexander attacked the breastwork on one side, Count Mansfeld on
the other; five assaults were made, and five times they were repulsed.
The Netherlanders in this decisive moment surpassed themselves; never in
the whole course of the war had they fought with such determination. But
it was the Scotch and English in particular who baffled the attempts of
the enemy by their valiant resistance. As no one would advance to the
attack in the quarter where the Scotch fought, the duke himself led on
the troops, with a javelin in his hand, and up to his breast in water. At
last, after a protracted struggle, the forces of Count Mansfeld succeeded
with their halberds and pikes in making a breach in the breastwork, and
by raising themselves on one another's shoulders scaled the parapet.
Barthelemy Toralva, a Spanish captain, was the first who showed himself
on the top; and almost at the same instant the Italian, Capizucchi,
appeared upon the edge of it; and thus the contest of valor was decided
with equal glory for both nations. It is worth while to notice here the
manner in which the Prince of Parma, who was made arbiter of this emulous
strife, encouraged this delicate sense of honor among his warriors. He
embraced the Italian, Capizucchi, in presence of the troops, and
acknowledged aloud that it was principally to the courage of this officer
that he owed the capture of the breastwork. He caused the Spanish
captain, Toralva, who was dangerously wounded, to be conveyed to his own
quarters at Stabroek, laid on his own bed, and covered with the cloak
which he himself had worn the day before the battle.

After the capture of the breastwork the victory no longer remained
doubtful. The Dutch and Zealand troops, who had disembarked to come to
close action with the enemy, at once lost their courage when they looked
about them and saw the vessels, which were their last refuge, putting
off from the shore.

For the tide had begun to ebb, and the commanders of the fleet, from
fear of being stranded with their heavy transports, and, in case of an
unfortunate issue to the engagement, becoming the prey of the enemy,
retired from the dam, and made for deep water. No sooner did Alexander
perceive this than he pointed out to his troops the flying vessels, and
encouraged them to finish the action with an enemy who already despaired
of their safety. The Dutch auxiliaries were the first that gave way,
and their example was soon followed by the Zealanders. Hastily leaping
from the dam they endeavored to reach the vessels by wading or swimming;
but from their disorderly flight they impeded one another, and fell in
heaps under the swords of the pursuers. Many perished even in the
boats, as each strove to get on board before the other, and several
vessels sank under the weight of the numbers who rushed into them. The
Antwerpers, who fought for their liberty, their hearths, their faith,
were the last who retreated, but this very circumstance augmented their
disaster. Many of their vessels were outstripped by the ebb-tide, and
grounded within reach of the enemy's cannon, and were consequently
destroyed with all on board. Crowds of fugitives endeavored by swimming
to gain the other transports, which had got into deep water; but such
was the rage and boldness of the Spaniards that they swam after them
with their swords between their teeth, and dragged many even from the
ships. The victory of the king's troops was complete but bloody; for of
the Spaniards about eight hundred, of the Netherlanders some thousands
(without reckoning those who were drowned), were left on the field, and
on both sides many of the principal nobility perished. More than thirty
vessels, with a large supply of provisions for Antwerp, fell into the
hands of the victors, with one hundred and fifty cannon and other
military stores. The dam, the possession of which had been so dearly
maintained, was pierced in thirteen different places, and the bodies of
those who had cut through it were now used to stop up the openings.

The following day a transport of immense size and singular construction
fell into the hands of the royalists. It formed a floating castle, and
had been destined for the attack on the Cowenstein dam. The people of
Antwerp had built it at an immense expense at the very time when the
engineer Gianibelli's useful proposals had been rejected on account of
the cost they entailed, and this ridiculous monster was called by the
proud title of "End of the War," which appellation was afterwards
changed for the more appropriate sobriquet of "Money lost!" When this
vessel was launched it turned out, as every sensible person had
foretold, that on account of its unwieldly size it was utterly
impossible to steer it, and it could hardly be floated by the highest
tide. With great difficulty it was worked as far as Ordain, where,
deserted by the tide, it went aground, and fell a prey to the enemy.

The attack upon the Cowenstein dam was the last attempt which was made
to relieve Antwerp. From this time the courage of the besieged sank,
and the magistracy of the town vainly labored to inspirit with distant
hopes the lower orders, on whom the present distress weighed heaviest.
Hitherto the price of bread had been kept down to a tolerable rate,
although the quality of it continued to deteriorate; by degrees,
however, provisions became so scarce that a famine was evidently near at
hand. Still hopes were entertained of being able to hold out, at least
until the corn between the town and the farthest batteries, which was
already in full ear, could be reaped; but before that could be done the
enemy had carried the last outwork, and had appropriated the whole
harvest to their use. At last the neighboring and confederate town of
Malines fell into the enemy's hands, and with its fall vanished the only
remaining hope of getting supplies from Brabant. As there was,
therefore, no longer any means of increasing the stock of provisions
nothing was left but to diminish the consumers. All useless persons,
all strangers, nay even the women and children were to be sent away out
of the town, but this proposal was too revolting to humanity to be
carried into execution. Another plan, that of expelling the Catholic
inhabitants, exasperated them so much that it had almost ended in open
mutiny. And thus St. Aldegonde at last saw himself compelled to yield
to the riotous clamors of the populace, and on the 17th of August, 1585,
to make overtures to the Duke of Parma for the surrender of the town.