And thus a band of patriots, who were not cowards by nature, and who had often played the part of men, had horribly disgraced themselves, and were endangering the very existence of their country, already by mistaken councils brought within the jaws of death.  The glory of Thermopyla; might have hung for ever over that bridge of Leffingen.  It was now a pass of infamy, perhaps of fatal disaster.  The sands were covered with weapons-sabre, pike, and arquebus—­thrown away by almost every soldier as he fled to save the life which after all was sacrificed.  The artillery, all the standards and colours, all the baggage and ammunition, every thing was lost.  No viler panic, no more complete defeat was ever recorded.  Such at half-past eight in the morning was that memorable Sunday of the 2nd July, 1600, big with the fate of the Dutch republic—­the festival of the Visitation of the Virgin Mary, always thought of happy augury for Spanish arms.

Thus began the long expected battle of Nieuport.  At least a thousand of the choicest troops of the stadholder were slain, while the Spanish had hardly lost a man.

The archduke had annihilated his enemy, had taken his artillery and thirty flags.  In great exultation he despatched a messenger to the Infanta at Ghent, informing her that he had entirely defeated the advance-guard of the States’ army, and that his next bulletin would announce his complete triumph and the utter overthrow of Maurice, who had now no means of escape.  He stated also that he would very soon send the rebel stadholder himself to her as a prisoner.  The Infanta, much pleased with the promise, observed to her attendants that she was curious to see how Nassau would conduct himself when he should be brought a captive into her presence.  As to the Catholic troops, they were informed by the archduke that after the complete victory which they were that day to achieve, not a man should be left alive save Maurice and his brother Frederic Henry.  These should be spared to grace the conqueror’s triumph, but all else should be put to the sword.

Meantime artillery thundered, bonfires blazed, and bells rang their merriest peals in Ghent, Bruges, and the other obedient cities as the news of the great victory spread through the land.

When the fight was done the archduke called a council of war.  It was a grave question whether the army should at once advance in order to complete the destruction of the enemy that day, or pause for an interval that the troops fatigued with hard marching and with the victorious combat in which they just had been engaged, should recover their full strength.  That the stadholder was completely in their power was certain.  The road to Ostend was barred, and Nieuport would hold him at bay, now that the relieving army was close upon his heels.  All that was necessary in order to annihilate his whole force, was that they should entrench themselves for the night on the road which he must cross.  He would then be obliged to assault