foe, while his brother Orange, who was at Strasburg watching the progress
of events, was executing his own long-planned expedition into the heart
of the Netherlands. With Alva thus occupied in Friesland, the results of
such an invasion might have been prodigious. It was, however, not on the
cards for that campaign. The mutinous disposition of the mercenaries
under his command had filled Louis with doubt and disgust. Bold and
sanguine, but always too fiery and impatient, he saw not much possibility
of paying his troops any longer with promises. Perhaps he was not
unwilling to place them in a position where they would be obliged to
fight or to perish. At any rate, such was their present situation.
Instead of halting at Reyden, he had made his stand at Jemmingen, about
four leagues distant from that place, and a little further down the
river. Alva discovered this important fact soon after his arrival at
Reyden, and could not conceal his delight. Already exulting at the error
made by his adversary, in neglecting the important position which he now
occupied himself, he was doubly delighted at learning the nature of the
place which he had in preference selected. He saw that Louis had
completely entrapped himself.

Jemmingen was a small town on the left bank of the Ems. The stream here
very broad and deep, is rather a tide inlet than a river, being but a
very few miles from the Dollart. This circular bay, or ocean chasm, the
result of the violent inundation of the 13th century, surrounds, with the
river, a narrow peninsula. In the corner of this peninsula, as in the
bottom of a sack, Louis had posted his army. His infantry, as usual,
was drawn up in two large squares, and still contained ten thousand men.
The rear rested upon the village, the river was upon his left; his meagre
force of cavalry upon the right. In front were two very deep trenches.
The narrow road, which formed the only entrance to his camp, was guarded
by a ravelin on each side, and by five pieces of artillery.