ng
faster than rumour itself, had crossed the impracticable swamp almost
before a spadeful of earth had been turned in the republican camp. His
advance was in sight even while the incredulous were sneering at the
absurdity of his supposed project. Informed by scouts of the weakest
point in the stadholder's extended lines, Spinola was directing himself
thither with beautiful precision. Maurice hastily contracted both his
wings, and concentrated himself in the village of Lebel. At last the
moment had come for a decisive struggle. There could be little doubt of
the result. All the advantage was with the republican army. The Catholics
had arrived in front of the enemy fatigued by forced marches through
quagmires, in horrible weather, over roads deemed impassable. The States'
troops were fresh, posted on ground of their own choosing, and partially
entrenched. To the astonishment, even to the horror of the most eager
portion of the army, the stadholder deliberately, and despite the groans
of his soldiers, refused the combat, and gave immediate orders for
raising the siege and abandoning the field.

On the 12th of November he broke up his camp and withdrew to a village
called Zelem. On the same day the marquis, having relieved the city,
without paying the expected price, retired in another direction, and
established what was left of his army in the province of Munster. The
campaign was closed. And thus the great war which had run its stormy
course for nearly forty years, dribbled out of existence, sinking away
that rainy November in the dismal fens of Zutphen. The long struggle for
independence had come, almost unperceived, to an end.

Peace had not arrived, but the work of the armies was over for many a
long year. Freedom and independence were secured. A deed or two, never to
be forgotten by Netherland hearts, was yet to be done on the ocean,
before the long and intricate negotiations for peace should begin, and
the weary people permit themselves to rejoice; but the prize was already
won.

Meantime, the conduct of Prince Maurice in these last days of the
campaign was the subject of biting censure by friend and foe. The
military fame of Spinola throughout Europe grew apace; and the fame of
his great rival seemed to shrink in the same proportion.

Henry of France was especially indignant at what he considered the
shortcomings of the republic and of its chief. Already, before the close
of the summer, the agent Aerssens had