they had been lulled by the chiefs of the great merchant class which had
risen to power on the fall of the House of Orange, only to find
themselves helpless. Town after town opened its gates to the invader:
three out of the seven provinces of the Federation were already in his
hands: his watch-fires were seen from the walls of Amsterdam. In the
first mad paroxysm of their despair the people rose against their
leaders. De Ruyter, who had borne their flag to victory on many a hard
fought day, was insulted in the public streets: the Grand Pensionary,
John De Witt, and his brother Cornelius were brutally murdered before
the palace of the States-General at the Hague. The office of Stadtholder
was re-established; and the common voice called back to it a prince of
that House which twenty years ago had been excluded for ever from the
affairs of a State which had never existed without it.

William Henry, great-grandson of the founder of the Dutch Republic,
hereafter to be known as William the Third of England, was then in his
twenty-second year. The heroic spirit of William the Silent lived again
in the frail body of his descendant. Without a moment's hesitation he
accepted the hard and thankless task imposed upon him. With wise counsel
and brave words he calmed and revived the drooping hearts of his
countrymen. He rejected with scorn the offers both of Charles and Lewis
to seduce him from his allegiance. He replied to Buckingham's
remonstrances on the folly of a struggle which could only mean ruin to
the Commonwealth, that he would fight while there was a ditch left for
him to die in. His courage spread. The Dutch flew to arms: without a
regretful voice they summoned to their aid their last irresistible ally:
the dykes were cut, and soon the waters, destroying to save, spread over
all that trim and fertile land. The tide of invasion was checked, and
with the next spring it began to roll slowly backward. The great princes
of the Continent became alarmed at this new prospect of French ambition.