It was all in vain.  Could Maurice have thrown himself into the field, he might, as in the crisis of the republic’s fate at Nieuport, have once more converted ruin into victory by the magic of his presence.  But the river was between him and the battle, and he was an enforced spectator of his country’s disgrace.

For a few brief moments his demeanour, his taunts, and his supplications had checked the flight of his troops.

A stand was made by a portion of the cavalry and a few detached but fierce combats took place.  Count Frederic Henry was in imminent danger.  Leading a mere handful of his immediate retainers, he threw himself into the thickest of the fight, with the characteristic audacity of his house.  A Spanish trooper aimed his carbine full at his face.  It missed fire, and Henry, having emptied his own pistol, was seized by the floating scarf upon his breast by more than one enemy.  There was a brief struggle, and death or capture seemed certain; when an unknown hand laid his nearest antagonist low, and enabled him to escape from over powering numbers.  The soldier, whose devotion thus saved the career of the youngest Orange-Nassau destined to be so long and so brilliant, from being cut off so prematurely, was never again heard of, and doubtless perished in the fray.

Meantime the brief sparkle of valour on the part of the States’ troops had already vanished.  The adroit Spinola, hurrying personally to the front, had caused such a clangor from all the drums and trumpets in Broek and its neighbourhood to be made as to persuade the restive cavalry that the whole force of the enemy was already upon them.  The day was obviously lost, and Maurice, with a heavy heart, now him self gave the signal to retreat.  Drawing up the greater part of his infantry in solid mass upon the banks to protect the passage, he sent a force to the opposite side, Horace Vere being the first to wade the stream.  All that was then possible to do was accomplished, and the panic flight converted into orderly retreat, but it was a day of disaster and disgrace for the republic.

About five hundred of the best States’ cavalry were left dead on the field, but the stain upon his almost unsullied flag was more cutting to the stadholder’s heart than the death of his veterans.  The material results were in truth almost even.  The famous cavalry general, Count Trivulzio, with at least three hundred Spaniards, fell in the combat, but the glory of having defeated the best cavalry of Europe in a stricken field and under the very eyes of the stadholder would have been sufficient compensation to Spinola for much greater losses.

Maurice withdrew towards Wesel, sullen but not desponding.  His forces were meagre, and although he had been out-generalled, out-marched, and defeated in the open field, at least the Genoese had not planted the blow which he had meditated in the very heart of the republic.