en, women, children, of horses,
oxen, sheep, and every domestic animal, were struggling in the waves in
every direction. Every boat, and every article which could serve as a
boat, were eagerly seized upon. Every house was inundated; even the
grave-yards gave up their dead. The living infant in his cradle, and the
long-buried corpse in his coffin, floated side by side. The ancient flood
seemed about to be renewed. Everywhere, upon the top of trees, upon the
steeples of churches, human beings were clustered, praying to God for
mercy, and to their fellow-men for assistance. As the storm at last was
subsiding, boats began to ply in every direction, saving those who were
still struggling in the water, picking fugitives from roofs and
tree-tops, and collecting the bodies of those already drowned. Colonel
Robles, Seigneur de Billy, formerly much hated for his Spanish or
Portuguese blood, made himself very active in this humane work. By his
exertions, and those of the troops belonging to Groningen, many lives
were rescued, and gratitude replaced the ancient animosity. It was
estimated that at least twenty thousand persons were destroyed in the
province of Friesland alone. Throughout the Netherlands, one hundred
thousand persons perished. The damage alone to property, the number of
animals engulfed in the sea, were almost incalculable.

These events took place on the 1st and 2nd November, 1570. The former
happened to be the day of All Saints, and the Spaniards maintained loudly
that the vengeance of Heaven had descended upon the abode of heretics.
The Netherlanders looked upon the catastrophe as ominous of still more
terrible misfortunes in store for them. They seemed doomed to destruction
by God and man. An overwhelming tyranny had long been chafing against
their constitutional bulwarks, only to sweep over them at last; and now
the resistless ocean, impatient of man's feeble barriers, had at last
risen to reclaim his prey. Nature, as if disposed to put to the blush the
feeble cruelty of man, had thus wrought more havoc in a few hours, than
bigotry, however active, could effect in many years.

Nearly at the close of this year (1570) an incident occurred,
illustrating the ferocious courage so often engendered in civil contests.
On the western verge of the Isle of Bommel, stood the castle of
Lowestein. The island is not in the sea. It is the narrow but important
territory which is enclosed between the Meuse and the Waal. The castl