While these events had been occurring in the neighbourhood of Ostend, Maurice had not been idle at Nieuport.  No sooner had Ernest been despatched on his desperate errand than his brother Lewis Gunther was ordered by the stadholder to get on horseback and ride through the quarters of the army.  On the previous afternoon there had been so little thought of an enemy that large foraging parties had gone out from camp in all directions, and had not returned.  Lewis gave notice that a great battle was to be expected on the morrow, instead of the tranquil commencement of a leisurely siege, and that therefore no soul was henceforth to leave the camp, while a troop of horse was despatched at the first gleam of daylight to scour the country in search of all the stragglers.  Maurice had no thought of retreating, and his first care was to bring his army across the haven.  The arrangements were soon completed, but it was necessary to wait until nearly low water.  Soon after eight o’clock Count Lewis began to cross with eight squadrons of cavalry, and partly swimming, partly wading, effected the passage in safety.  The advanced guard of infantry, under Sir Francis Vere—­ consisting of two thousand six hundred Englishmen, and two thousand eight hundred Frisians, with some companies of horse, followed by the battalia under Solms, and the rearguard under Tempel—­then slowly and with difficulty moved along the same dangerous path with the water as high as their armpits, and often rising nearly over their heads.  Had the archduke not been detained near the bridge of Leffingen by Ernest’s Scotchmen and Zeelanders during three or four precious hours that morning; had he arrived, as he otherwise might have done, just as the States’ army—­horse, foot, and artillery—­was floundering through that treacherous tide, it would have fared ill for the stadholder and the republic.  But the devotion of Ernest had at least prevented the attack of the archduke until Maurice and his men stood on dry land.

Dripping from head to foot, but safe and sound, the army had at last reached the beach at Nieuport.  Vere had refused his soldiers permission to denude themselves in crossing of their shoes and lower garments.  There was no time for that, he said, and they would either earn new clothes for themselves that day, or never need doublet and hose again any more in the world.  Some hours had elapsed before the tedious and difficult crossing of infantry, cavalry, artillery, and munition trains had been accomplished.

Lewis Gunther, with eight squadrons of picked cavalry, including his own company, Maurice’s own, Frederic Henry’s own, with Batenburg’s arquebus-men, and other veterans, was first to place himself in battle order on the beach.  His squadrons in iron corslet and morion, and armed with lances, carbines, and sabres, stretched across from the water to the downs.  He had not been long stationed there when he observed that far away in the direction of Ostend the beach was growing black with troops.  He believed them at first to be his brother Ernest and his forces returning victorious from their hazardous expedition, but he was soon undeceived.