rose upon the great Netherland tragedy, had there been a fiercer
encounter. Flinching was impossible. There was scant room for the play of
pike and dagger, and, close packed as were the combatants, the dead could
hardly fall to the ground. It was a mile-long series of separate mortal
duels, and the oozy dyke was soon slippery with blood.

From both sides, under Capizucca and Aquila on the one band, and under
Alexander on the other, the entrenchments of the patriots were at last
assaulted, and as the royalists fell thick and fast beneath the
breast-work which they were storming, their comrades clambered upon their
bodies, and attempted, from such vantage-ground, to effect an entrance.
Three times the invaders were beaten back with heavy loss, and after each
repulse the attack was renewed with fresh vigour, while within the
entrenchments the pioneers still plied the pick and shovel, undismayed by
the uproar around them.

A fourth assault, vigorously made, was cheerfully repelled by the
Antwerpers and Hollanders, clustering behind their breast-works, and
looking steadily into their enemies' eyes. Captain Heraugiere--of whom
more was to be heard one day--had led two hundred men into action, and
now found himself at the head of only thirteen. The loss had been as
severe among many other patriot companies, as well as in the Spanish
ranks, and again the pikemen of Spain and Italy faltered before the iron
visages and cordial blows of the Hollanders.

This work had lasted a good hour and a half, when at last, on the fifth
assault, a wild and mysterious apparition renewed the enthusiasm of the
Spaniards. The figure of the dead commander of the old Spanish Legion,
Don Pedro Pacchi, who had fallen a few months before at the siege of
Dendermonde was seen charging in front of his regiment, clad in his
well-known armour, and using the gestures which had been habitual with
him in life. No satisfactory explanation was ever made of this singular
delusion, but it was general throughout the ranks, and in that
superstitious age was as effective as truth. The wavering Spaniards
rallied once more under the guidance of their phantom leader, and again
charged the breast-work of the patriots. Toralva, mounting upon the back
of one of his soldiers, was first to vault into the entrenchments. At the
next instant he lay desperately wounded on the ground, but was close
followed by Capizucca, sustained by a determined band. The entrenchment
was car