insolent foe. He was there to share their fate, to conquer or to perish
with them, and from their tried valour and from the God of battles he
hoped a more magnificent victory than had ever before been achieved in
this almost perpetual war for independence. The troops, perfectly
enthusiastic, replied with a shout that they were ready to live or die
with their chieftain, and eagerly demanded to be led upon the foe.
Whether from hope or from desperation they were confident and cheerful.
Some doubt was felt as to the Walloons, who had so lately transferred
themselves from the archduke's army, but their commander, Marquette, made
them all lift up their hands, and swear solemnly to live or die that day
at the feet of Prince Maurice.

Two hours long these two armies had stood looking each other in the face.
It was near two o'clock when the arch duke at last gave the signal to
advance. The tide was again almost at the full. Maurice stood firm,
awaiting the assault; the enemy slowly coming nearer, and the rising tide
as steadily lapping away all that was left of the hard beach which
fringed the rugged downs. Count Lewis chafed with impatience as it
became each moment more evident that there would be no beach left for
cavalry fighting, while in the downs the manoeuvring of horse was
entirely impossible. Meantime, by command of Vere, all those sandy
hillocks and steeps had been thickly sown with musketeers and pikemen.
Arquebus-men and carabineers were planted in every hollow, while on the
highest and most advantageous elevation two pieces of cannon had been
placed by the express direction of Maurice. It seemed obvious that the
battle would, after all, be transferred to the downs. Not long before
the action began, a private of the enemy's cavalry was taken, apparently
with his own consent, in a very trifling preliminary skirmish. He
bragged loudly of the immense force of the archduke, of the great victory
already gained over Ernest, with the utter annihilation of his forces,