on, and that the war
was dying of extreme old age, when the Quixotic pranks of a Du Terrail
occupied so large a part of European attention.

The winter had passed, another spring had come and gone, and Maurice had
in vain attempted to obtain sufficient means from the States to take the
field in force. Henry, looking on from the outside, was becoming more and
more exasperated with the dilatoriness which prevented the republic from
profiting by the golden moments of Spinola's enforced absence. Yet the
best that could be done seemed to be to take measures for defensive
operations.

Spinola never reached Brussels until the beginning of June, yet, during
all the good campaigning weather which had been fleeting away, not a blow
had been struck, nor a wholesome counsel taken by the stadholder or the
States. It was midsummer before the armies were in the field. The plans
of the Catholic general however then rapidly developed themselves. Having
assembled as large a force as had ever been under his command, he now
divided it into two nearly equal portions. Bucquoy, with ten thousand
foot, twelve hundred cavalry, and twelve guns, arrived on the 18th July
at Nook, on the Meuse. Spinola, with eleven thousand infantry, two
thousand horse, and eight guns, crossed the Rhine at the old redoubts of
Ruhrort, and on the same 18th July took position at Goor, in Overyssel.
The first plan of the commander-in-chief was to retrace exactly his
campaign of the previous year, even as he had with so much frankness
stated to Henry. But the republic, although deserted by her former
friends, and looked upon askance by the monarch of Britain, and by the
most Christian king, had this year a most efficient ally in the weather.
Jupiter Pluvius had descended from on high to the rescue of the
struggling commonwealth, and his decrees were omnipotent as to the course
of the campaign. The seasons that year seemed all fused into one. It was
difficult to tell on midsummer day whether it were midwinter, spring, or
autumn. The rain came down day after day, week after week, as if the
contending armies and the very country which was to be invaded and
defended were to be all washed out of existence together. Friesland
resolved itself into a vast quagmire; the roads became fluid, the rivers
lakes. Spinola turned his face from the east, and proceeded to carry out
a second plan which he had long meditated, and even a more effective one,
in the west.

The Waal and the