Autumn was now far advanced, and dripping with rain.  The roads and fields were fast becoming impassable sloughs, and no further large operations could be expected in this campaign.  Yet the stadholder’s cup was not full, and he was destined to witness two more triumphs of his rival, now fast becoming famous, before this year of disasters should close.  On the 27th October, Spinola took the city of Wachtendonk, after ten days’ siege, and on the 5th of November the strong place of Cracow.

Maurice was forced to see these positions captured almost under his eyes, being now quite powerless to afford relief.  His troops had dwindled by sickness and necessary detachments for garrison-work to a comparatively, insignificant force, and very soon afterwards both armies went into winter quarters.

The States were excessively disappointed at the results of the year’s work, and deep if not loud were the reproaches cast upon the stadholder.  Certainly his military reputation had not been augmented by this campaign.  He had lost many places, and had not gained an inch of ground anywhere.  Already the lustre of Sluys, of Nieuport, and Turnhout were growing dim, for Maurice had so accustomed the republic to victories that his own past triumphs seemed now his greatest enemies.  Moreover he had founded a school out of which apt pupils had already graduated, and it would seem that the Genoese volunteer had rapidly profited by his teachings as only a man endowed with exquisite military genius could have done.

Yet, after all, it seems certain that, with the stadholder’s limited means, and with the awful consequences to the country of a total defeat in the open field, the Fabian tactics, which he had now deliberately adopted, were the most reasonable.  The invader of foreign domains, the suppressor of great revolts, can indulge in the expensive luxury of procrastination only at imminent peril.  For the defence, it is always possible to conquer by delay, and it was perfectly understood between Spinola and his ablest advisers at the Spanish court that the blows must be struck thick and fast, and at the most vulnerable places, or that the victory would be lost.

Time was the ally not of the Spanish invaders, who came from afar, but of the Dutch burghers, who remained at home.  “Jam aut Nunquam,” was the motto upon the Italian’s banners.

In proportion to the depression in the republic at the results of this year’s campaigning was the elation at the Spanish court.  Bad news and false news had preceded the authentic intelligence of Spinola’s victories.  The English envoy had received unquestionable information that the Catholic general had sustained an overwhelming defeat at the close of the campaign, with a loss of three thousand five hundred men.