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 Yssel formed two sides of a great quadrilateral; and furnished for the natural fortress, thus enclosed, two vast and admirable moats.  Within lay Good-meadow and Foul-meadow—­Bet-uwe and Vel-uwe—­one, the ancient Batavian island which from time immemorial had given its name to the commonwealth, the other, the once dismal swamp which toil and intelligence had in the course of centuries transformed into the wealthy and flowery land of Gueldres.

Beyond, but in immediate proximity, lay the ancient episcopal city and province of Utrecht, over which lay the road to the adjacent Holland and Zeeland.  The very heart of the republic would be laid bare to the conqueror’s sword if he could once force the passage, and obtain the control of these two protecting streams.  With Utrecht as his base, and all Brabant and Flanders—­obedient provinces—­at his back, Spinola might accomplish more in one season than Alva, Don John, and Alexander Farnese had compassed in forty years, and destroy at a blow what was still called the Netherland rebellion.  The passage of the rivers once effected, the two enveloping wings would fold themselves together, and the conquest would be made.

Thus reasoned the brilliant young general, and his projects, although far-reaching, did not seem wild.  The first steps were, however, the most important as well as the most difficult, and he had to reckon with a wary and experienced antagonist.  Maurice had at last collected and reviewed at Arnhem an army of nearly fifteen thousand men, and was now watching closely from Doesburg and Deventer every movement of the foe.

Having been forced to a defensive campaign, in which he was not likely at best to gain many additional laurels, he was the more determined to lay down his own life, and sacrifice every man he could bring into the field, before Spinola should march into the cherished domains of Utrecht and Holland.  Meantime the rain, which had already exerted so much influence on the military movements of the year, still maintained the supremacy over human plans.  The Yssel and the Waal, always deep, broad, sluggish, but dangerous rivers—­the Rhine in its old age—­were swollen into enormous proportions, their currents flowing for the time with the vigour of their far away youth.

Maurice had confided the defence of the Waal to Warner Du Bois, under whose orders he placed a force of about seven thousand men, and whose business it was to prevent Bucquoy’s passage.  His own task was to baffle Spinola.