History of the United Netherlands from the Death of William the Silent to the Twelve Year's Truce, 1585c — John Shaqi
History of the United Netherlands from the Death of William the Silent to the Twelve Year's Truce, 1585cMotley, John Lothrop
History
History of the United Netherlands from the Death of William the Silent to the Twelve Year's Truce, 1585c
Motley, John Lothrop
Netherlands -- History -- Eighty Years' War, 1568-1648
The deed was done. A breach, two hundred feet in width was made. Had
the most skilful pilot in Zeeland held the helm of the 'Hope,' with a
choice crew obedient to his orders, he could not have guided her more
carefully than she had been directed by wind and tide. Avoiding the raft
which lay in her way, she had, as it were, with the intelligence of a
living creature, fulfilled the wishes of the daring genius that had
created her; and laid herself alongside the bridge, exactly at the most
telling point. She had then destroyed herself, precisely at the right
moment. All the effects, and more than all, that had been predicted by
the Mantuan wizard had come to pass. The famous bridge was cleft through
and through, and a thousand picked men--Parma's very "daintiest"--were
blown out of existence. The Governor-General himself was lying stark and
stiff upon the bridge which he said should be his triumphal monument or
his tomb. His most distinguished officers were dead, and all the
survivors were dumb and blind with astonishment at the unheard of,
convulsion. The passage was open for the fleet, and the fleet, lay below
with sails spread, and oars in the rowlocks, only waiting for the signal
to bear up at once to the scene of action, to smite out of existence all
that remained of the splendid structure, and to carry relief and triumph
into Antwerp.
Not a soul slept in the city. The explosion had shook its walls, and
thousands of people thronged the streets, their hearts beating high with
expectation. It was a moment of exquisite triumph. The 'Hope,' word of
happy augury, had not been relied upon in vain, and Parma's seven months
of patient labour had been annihilated in a moment. Sainte Aldegonde and
Gianibelli stood in the 'Boors' Sconce' on the edge of the river. They
had felt and heard the explosion, and they were now straining their eyes
through the darkness to mark the flight of the welcome rocket.
That rocket never rose. And it is enough, even after the lapse of three
centuries, to cause a pang in every heart that beats for human liberty to
think of the bitter disappointment which crushed these great and
legitimate hopes. The cause lay in the incompetency and cowardice of the
man who had been so unfortunately entrusted with a share in a noble
enterprise.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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