A force of infantry, the amount of which cannot be satisfactorily ascertained, had been ordered by the Earl to cross the bridge at a later moment.  Sidney’s cornet of horse was then in Deventer, to which place it had been sent in order to assist in quelling an anticipated revolt, so that he came, like most of his companions, as a private volunteer and knight-errant.

The arrival of the expected convoy was soon more distinctly heard, but no scouts or outposts had been stationed to give timely notice, of the enemy’s movements.  Suddenly the fog, which had shrouded the scene so closely, rolled away like a curtain, and in the full light of an October morning the Englishmen found themselves face to face with a compact body of more than three thousand men.  The Marquis del Vasto rode at the head of the forces surrounded by a band of mounted arquebus men.  The cavalry, under the famous Epirote chief George Crescia, Hannibal Gonzaga, Bentivoglio, Sesa, Conti, and other distinguished commanders, followed; the columns of pikemen and musketeers lined the, hedge-rows on both sides the causeway; while between them the long train of waggons came slowly along under their protection.  The whole force had got in motion after having sent notice of their arrival to Verdugo, who, with one or two thousand men, was expected to sally forth almost immediately from the city-gate.

There was but brief time for deliberation.  Notwithstanding the tremendous odds there was no thought of retreat.  Black Norris called to Sir William Stanley, with whom he had been at variance so lately at Doesburg.

“There hath been ill-blood between us,” he said.  “Let us be friends together this day, and die side by side, if need be, in her Majesty’s cause.”

“If you see me not serve my prince with faithful courage now,” replied Stanley, “account, me for ever a coward.  Living or dying I will stand err lie by you in friendship.”

As they were speaking these words the young Earl of Essex, general of the horse, cried to his, handful of troopers: 

“Follow me, good fellows, for the honour of England and of England’s Queen!”

As he spoke he dashed, lance in rest, upon the enemy’s cavalry, overthrew the foremost man, horse and rider, shivered his own spear to splinters, and then, swinging his cartel-axe, rode merrily forward.  His whole little troop, compact, as an arrow-head, flew with an irresistible shock against the opposing columns, pierced clean through them, and scattered them in all directions.  At the very first charge one hundred English horsemen drove the Spanish and Albanian cavalry back upon the musketeers and pikemen.  Wheeling with rapidity, they retired before a volley of musket-shot, by which many horses and a few riders were killed; and then formed again to renew the attack.  Sir Philip Sidney, an coming to the field, having met Sir William Pelham, the veteran lord marshal, lightly armed, had with chivalrous extravagance thrown off his own cuishes, and now rode to the battle with no armour but his cuirass.  At the second charge his horse was shot under him, but, mounting another, he was seen everywhere, in the thick of the fight, behaving himself with a gallantry which extorted admiration even from the enemy.