History of the United Netherlands, 1585 part 2 | Page 4

of Holland's naval heroes, but,
on the whole, a very incompetent officer; exactly the man to damage
the best concerted scheme which the genius of others could invent.

Accordingly, Koppen-Loppen began with a grave mistake. Instead of
allowing the precursory fire-ships to drift down the stream, at the
regular intervals agreed upon, he despatched them all rapidly, and
helter skelter, one after another, as fast as they could be set forth on
their career. Not long afterwards, he sent the two "hellburners," the
'Fortune' and the 'Hope,' directly in their wake. Thus the whole fiery
fleet had set forth, almost at once, upon its fatal voyage.
It was known to Parma that preparations for an attack were making at
Antwerp, but as to the nature of the danger he was necessarily in the
dark. He was anticipating an invasion by a fleet from the city in
combination with a squadron of Zeelanders coming up from below. So
soon as the first vessels, therefore, with their trains not yet lighted,
were discovered bearing down from the city, he was confirmed in his
conjecture. His drama and trumpets instantly called to arms, and the
whole body of his troops was mustered upon the bridge; the palisades,
and in the nearest forts. Thus the preparations to avoid or to contend
with the danger, were leading the Spaniards into the very jaws of
destruction. Alexander, after crossing and recrossing the river, giving
minute directions for repelling the expected assault, finally stationed
himself in the block-house at the point of junction, on the Flemish aide,
between the palisade and the bridge of boats. He was surrounded by a
group of superior officers, among whom Richebourg, Billy, Gaetano,
Cessis, and the Englishman Sir Rowland Yorke, were conspicuous.
It was a dark, mild evening of early spring. As the fleet of vessels
dropped slowly down the river, they suddenly became luminous, each
ship flaming out of the darkness, a phantom of living fire. The very
waves of the Scheldt seemed glowing with the conflagration, while its
banks were lighted up with a preternatural glare. It was a wild,
pompous, theatrical spectacle. The array of soldiers on both aides the
river, along the dykes and upon the bridge, with banners waving, and
spear and cuirass glancing in the lurid light; the demon fleet, guided by
no human hand, wrapped in flames, and flitting through the darkness,
with irregular movement; but portentous aspect, at the caprice of wind
and tide; the death-like silence of expectation, which had succeeded the
sound of trumpet and the shouts of the soldiers; and the weird glow
which had supplanted the darkness-all combined with the sense of
imminent and mysterious danger to excite and oppress the imagination.

Presently, the Spaniards, as they gazed from the bridge, began to take
heart again. One after another, many of the lesser vessels drifted blindly
against the raft, where they entangled themselves among the hooks and
gigantic spearheads, and burned slowly out without causing any
extensive conflagration. Others grounded on the banks of the river,
before reaching their destination. Some sank in the stream.
Last of all came the two infernal ships, swaying unsteadily with the
current; the pilots of course, as they neared the bridge, having
noiselessly effected their escape in the skiffs. The slight fire upon the
deck scarcely illuminated the dark phantom-like hulls. Both were
carried by the current clear of the raft, which, by a great error of
judgment, as it now appeared, on the part of the builders, had only been
made to protect the floating portion of the bridge. The 'Fortune' came
first, staggering inside the raft, and then lurching clumsily against the
dyke, and grounding near Kalloo, without touching the bridge. There
was a moment's pause of expectation. At last the slow match upon the
deck burned out, and there was a faint and partial explosion, by which
little or no damage was produced.
Parma instantly called for volunteers to board the mysterious vessel.
The desperate expedition was headed by the bold Roland York, a
Londoner, of whom one day there was more to be heard in Netherland
history. The party sprang into the deserted and now harmless volcano,
extinguishing the slight fires that were smouldering on the deck, and
thrusting spears and long poles into the hidden recesses of the hold.
There was, however, little time to pursue these perilous investigations,
and the party soon made their escape to the bridge.
The troops of Parma, crowding on the palisade, and looking over the
parapets, now began to greet the exhibition with peals of derisive
laughter. It was but child's play, they thought, to threaten a Spanish
army, and a general like Alexander Farnese, with such paltry fire-works
as these. Nevertheless all eyes were anxiously fixed upon the remaining
fire-ship, or "hell-burner," the