ty. Mondragon was not so impetuous as he had been on
many former occasions. He never ventured an assault. At last Teligny made
a sortie at the head of a considerable force. A warm action succeeded, at
the conclusion of which, without a decided advantage on either side, the
sluice-gate in the fortress was opened, and the torrent of the Scheldt,
swollen by a high tide, was suddenly poured upon the Spaniards. Assailed
at once by the fire from the Lillo batteries, and by the waters of the
river, they were forced to a rapid retreat. This they effected with great
loss, but with signal courage; struggling breast high in the waves, and
bearing off their field-pieces in their arms in the very face of the
enemy.

Three weeks long Mondragon had been before Fort Lille, and two thousand
of his soldiers had been slain in the trenches. The attempt was now
abandoned. Parma directed permanent batteries to be established at
Lillo-house, at Oordam, and at other places along the river, and
proceeded quietly with his carefully-matured plan for closing the river.

His own camp was in the neighbourhood of the villages of Beveren, Kalloo,
and Borght. Of the ten thousand foot and seventeen hundred horse, which
composed at the moment his whole army, about one-half lay with him, while
the remainder were with Count Peter Ernest Mansfield, in the
neighbourhood of Stabroek. Thus the Prince occupied a position on the
left bank of the Scheldt, nearly opposite Antwerp, while Mansfield was
stationed upon the right bank, and ten miles farther down the river. From
a point in the neighbourhood of Kalloo, Alexander intended to throw a
fortified bridge to the opposite shore. When completed, all traffic up
the river from Zeeland would be cut off; and as the country on the
land-side; abut Antwerp, had been now reduced, the city would be
effectually isolated. If the Prince could hold his bridge until famine
should break the resistance of the burghers, Antwerp would fall into his
hands.

His head-quarters were at Kalloo, and this obscure spot soon underwent a
strange transformation. A drowsy placid little village--with a modest
parish spire peeping above a clump of poplars, and with half a dozen
cottages, with storks nests on their roofs, sprinkled here and there
among pastures and orchards--suddenly saw itself changed as it were into
a thriving bustling town; for, saving the white tents which dotted the
green turf in every direction, the aspect of the scene w