erhaps they might have detached those thrown by the enemy on
their ships, but they had also to detach those which they themselves had
thrown.

All at once twenty explosions were heard, and each of the French ships
trembled to its center. It was the cannons that defended the port, and
which, fully charged and then abandoned by the Antwerpians, exploded as
the fire gained on them, breaking everything within their reach.

The flames mounted like gigantic serpents along the masts, rolled
themselves round the yards, then, with their forked tongues, came to
lick the sides of the French vessels.

Joyeuse, with his magnificent armor covered with gold, giving calmly,
and in an imperious voice, his orders in the midst of the flames, looked
like a fabulous salamander covered with scales, and at every movement
threw off a shower of sparks. But the explosions became louder than
ever; the gun-room had taken fire, and the vessels were flying in
pieces.

Joyeuse had done his best to free himself, but in vain; the flames had
reached the French ships, and showers of fire fell about him. The
Flemish barrier was broken, and the French burning ships drifted to the
shore. Joyeuse saw that he could not save his ships, and he gave orders
to lower the boats, and land on the left bank. This was quickly done,
and all the sailors were embarked to a man before Joyeuse quitted his
galley. His sang-froid kept every one in order, and each man landed with
a sword or an ax in his hand. Before he had reached the shore, the fire
reached the magazine of his ship, which blew up, lighting the whole
horizon.

Meanwhile, the artillery from the ramparts had ceased, not that the
combat had abated, but that it was so close it was impossible to fire on
enemies without firing on friends also.

The Calvinist cavalry had charged, and done wonders. Before the swords
of its cavaliers a pathway opened, but the wounded Flemings pierced the
horses with their large cutlasses, and in spite of this brilliant
charge, a little confusion showed itself in the French columns, and they
only kept their ground instead of advancing, while from the gates of the
city new troops continually poured out. All at once, almost under the
walls of the city, a cry of "Anjou! France!" was heard behind the mass
of the Antwerpians. This was Joyeuse and his 1,500 sailors, armed with
hatchets and cutlasses. They had to revenge their fleet in flames and
two hundred of their companions burned o