The “army of Gorcum” marched on the 22d on Rotterdam:  its arrival was joyfully hailed by the people, who contributed three hundred volunteers to swell its ranks.  The “army of Utrecht” advanced on Leyden, and raised the spirits of the people by the display of even so small a force.  But still the contrary winds kept back all appearance of succor from England, and the enemy was known to meditate a general attack on the patriot lines from Amsterdam to Dordrecht.  The bad state of the roads still retarded the approach of the far-distant armies of the allies; alarms, true and false, were spread on all hands—­when the appearance of three hundred Cossacks, detached from the Russian armies beyond the Yssel, prevailed over the hesitation of Amsterdam and the other towns, and they at length declared for the Prince of Orange.

But this somewhat tardy determination seemed to be the signal for various petty events, which at an epoch like that were magnified into transactions of the most fatal import.  A reinforcement of one thousand five hundred French troops reached Gorcum from Antwerp:  a detachment of twenty-five Dutch, with a piece of cannon, were surprised at one of the outposts of Woerden, which had been previously evacuated by the French, and the recapture of the town was accompanied by some excesses.  The numbers and the cruelties of the enemy were greatly exaggerated.  Consternation began to spread all over the country.  The French, who seemed to have recovered from their panic, had resumed on all sides offensive operations.  The garrison of Gorcum made a sortie, repulsed the force under General Van Landas, entered the town of Dordrecht, and levied contributions; but the inhabitants soon expelled them, and the army was enabled to resume its position.

Still the wind continued adverse to arrivals from the English coast; the Cossacks, so often announced, had not yet reached The Hague; and the small unsupported parties in the neighborhood of Amsterdam were in daily danger of being cut off.

In this crisis the confederates were placed in a most critical position.  On the eve of failure, and with the certainty, in such a result, of being branded as rebels and zealots, whose rashness had drawn down ruin on themselves, their families, and their country, it required no common share of fortitude to bear up against the danger that threatened them.  Aware of its extent, they calmly and resolutely opposed it; and each seemed to vie with the others in energy and firmness.

The anxiety of the public had reached the utmost possible height.  Every shifting of the wind was watched with nervous agitation.  The road from The Hague to the sea was constantly covered with a crowd of every age and sex.  Each sail that came in sight was watched and examined with intense interest; and at length, on the 26th of November, a small boat was seen to approach the shore, and the inquiring glances of the observers soon discovered that it contained an Englishman.  This individual, who had come over on a mercantile adventure, landed amid the loudest acclamation, and was conducted by the populace in triumph to the governor’s.  Dressed in an English volunteer uniform, he showed himself in every part of the town, to the great delight of the people, who hailed him as the precursor and type of an army of deliverers.