isles of Zealand, half floating upon, half submerged by the waves. The
town of Tergoes was the chief city of South Beveland, the most important
part of this archipelago, but South Beveland had not always been an
island. Fifty years before, a tempest, one of the most violent recorded
in the stormy annals of that exposed country, had overthrown all
barriers, the waters of the German Ocean, lashed by a succession of north
winds, having been driven upon the low coast of Zealand more rapidly than
they could be carried off through the narrow straits of Dover. The dykes
of the island had burst, the ocean had swept over the land, hundreds of
villages had been overwhelmed, and a tract of country torn from the
province and buried for ever beneath the sea. This "Drowned Land," as it
is called, now separated the island from the main. At low tide it was,
however, possible for experienced pilots to ford the estuary, which had
usurped the place of the land. The average depth was between four and
five feet at low water, while the tide rose and fell at least ten feet;
the bottom was muddy and treacherous, and it was moreover traversed by
three living streams or channels; always much too deep to be fordable.

Captain Plomaert, a Fleming of great experience and bravery,
warmly attached to the King's cause, conceived the plan of sending
reinforcements across this drowned district to the city of Tergoes.
Accompanied by two peasants of the country, well acquainted with the
track, he twice accomplished the dangerous and difficult passage;
which, from dry land to dry land, was nearly ten English miles in length.
Having thus satisfied himself as to the possibility of the enterprise,
he laid his plan before the Spanish colonel, Mondragon. That courageous
veteran eagerly embraced the proposal, examined the ground, and after
consultation with Sancho Avila, resolved in person to lead an expedition
along the path suggested by Plomaert. Three thousand picked men, a
thousand from each nation,--Spaniards, Walloons, and Germans, were