not frightened; and menacing, conjuring, persuading the fugitives for the love of fatherland, of himself and his house, of their own honour, not to disgrace and destroy themselves for ever; urging that all was not yet lost, and beseeching them at least to take despair for their master, and rather to die like men on the field than to drown like dogs in the sea, he succeeded in rallying a portion of those nearest him.  The enemy paused in their mad pursuit, impressed even more than were the States’ troops at the dauntless bearing of the prince.  It was one of those supreme moments in battle and in history which are sometimes permitted to influence the course of events during a long future.  The archduke and his generals committed a grave error in pausing for an instant in their career.  Very soon it was too late to repair the fault, for the quick and correct eye of the stadholder saw the point to which the whole battle was tending, and he threw his handful of reserved cavalry, with such of the fugitives as had rallied, straight towards the battery on the beach.

It was arranged that Balen should charge on the strand, Horace Vere through the upper downs, and Cecil along the margin of the beach.  Balen rode slowly through the heavy sand, keeping his horses well in wind, and at the moment he touched the beach, rushed with fury upon the enemy’s foot near the battery.  The moment was most opportune, for the last shot had been fired from the guns, and they had just been nearly abandoned in despair.  The onset of Balen was successful:  the Spanish infantry, thus suddenly attached, were broken, and many were killed and taken.  Cecil and Vere were equally fortunate, so that the retreating English and Frisians began to hold firm again.  It was the very crisis of the battle, which up to that instant seemed wholly lost by the republic, so universal was the overthrow and the flight.  Some hundred and fifty Frisian pikemen now rallied from their sullen retreat, and drove the enemy off one hillock or dune.

Foiled in their attempt to intercept the backward movement of the States’ army and to seize this vital point and the artillery with it, the Spaniards hesitated and were somewhat discouraged.  Some Zeeland sailors, who had stuck like wax to those demi-cannon during the whole conflict, now promptly obeyed orders to open yet once more upon the victorious foe.  At the first volley the Spaniards were staggered, and the sailors with a lively shout of “Ian-fall on,” inspired the defeated army with a portion of their own cheerfulness.  Others vehemently shouted victory without any reason whatever.  At that instant Maurice ordered a last charge by those few cavalry squadrons, while the enemy was faltering under the play of the artillery.  It was a forlorn hope, yet such was the shifting fortune of that memorable day that the charge decided the battle.  The whole line of the enemy broke, the conquered became the victors, the fugitives quickly rallying and shouting