"Please inform Mr. Unck that France remains steadfast in its support for the establishnt of the Southern Netherlands," Joseph said with a smile, gesturing to Viscount Flott. "As he expected, our army is indeed pursuing the Dutch forces. Oh, and thank you for the oats and the valuable intelligence."
"It is my honor to serve you and your great army," Viscount Flott replied, his face beaming with pride. After exchanging a few more pleasantries, he bowed and left the tent, not even questioning why the French army had co to Ghent to chase the Dutch.
Yes, he had just delivered several cartloads of oats—a precious resource for feeding the horses—and brought news that the Hanoverian army had turned southward near Brussels. As a man born in Zwevegem, who spoke French since childhood and had always admired the French way of life, Viscount Flott longed for the Walloon region to be incorporated into France. That way, he could truly beco a Frenchman.
So, upon hearing that the French army was nearby—he learned this when his serfs wanted to repay their debts using French banknotes—he personally brought the oats and wine to "support the troops."
Of course, Joseph didn't pay for the "goods" this ti, knowing that Viscount Flott wouldn't miss the one or two thousand livres this cost. With these oats, the Imperial Guard could reduce the ti spent foraging locally, allowing their march to speed up even more.
In fact, ever since they had entered the southern part of the Southern Netherlands, such "unexpected supplies" had been arriving steadily. There was even more wine than they could carry.
After the nobleman from the Southern Netherlands left, Berthier imdiately turned to the Prince. "Your Highness, if the information this gentleman provided is accurate, then we will need to rely on Major Masson to take action."
He moved to the map on the table, pointing to the area south of Brussels. "There are reports of enemy activity between the towns of Jodoigne and Waterloo, indicating that their marching column is at least 6 kiloters long."
One of the staff officers quickly added, "This might be our best opportunity to strike!"
Joseph also looked at the map, but he hesitated. The hussars hadn't yet reported the exact details of the enemy's movents, and they were still quite far from the Hanoverian army. Rushing to engage now carried too much uncertainty.
He suddenly pointed to Antwerp on the map and smiled. "Let's head back there!"
...
East of Brussels, Major Masson grabbed the hussar who had just reported enemy movents, his eyes shining with excitent. "Are you sure? The Dutch are still near Waterloo?"
"Yes, Major. I saw the Dutch artillery and nurous tents with my own eyes," the hussar confird.
Another hussar added, "We also heard from the local shoemaker that they were still doing business in the Dutch camp yesterday afternoon, even though the Hanoverian army had already moved south by then."
"Excellent!" Masson gripped his sword hilt tightly. The gap of at least half a day's march between the Dutch and Hanoverian forces was the perfect opportunity to execute the Prince's "flanking" tactic.
He raised his hand to the ssenger. "Order the entire battalion to march to Waterloo imdiately!"
"Yes, Major!"
A few hours later.
General Bronckhorst glanced at the sluggish marching column beside him and shook his head in frustration. Anyone would be dispirited after marching back and forth three tis in less than a week.
He was about to give a motivational speech to boost morale when several hussars rode up frantically, shouting from a distance, "Report! General, enemy forces have been spotted to the northeast, less than 3 kiloters away!"
Bronckhorst frowned. He knew that a French detachnt had been shadowing them, and Marshal Carl II had even sent cavalry to drive them off. But those French soldiers had kept their distance, seeming only to scout, so they hadn't paid them much mind.
He asked the hussar, "Is it the sa French detachnt as before?"
"It seems to be, sir," the hussar replied, quickly adding, "But this ti, there are more of them—probably over a thousand."
Bronckhorst felt a wave of irritation. He couldn't ignore a thousand enemy soldiers, but his army's pace was already slow. Dealing with this would likely delay them further from Carl II.
He snapped orders to his staff, "Halt the march and prepare to engage the enemy on the open ground south of the town!"
"Yes, General!"
The French moved faster than Bronckhorst anticipated. Within an hour, their skirmishers began attacking the Dutch baggage train.
He quickly maneuvered his infantry lines to push the French westward, but they didn't engage in a full battle. Instead, they harassed the Dutch vanguard, killed around seventy n, and then retreated swiftly to the southwest.
Bronckhorst initially feared an ambush and held his ground for several hours before realizing the French had truly withdrawn.
Furious, he sent cavalry in pursuit, but they ran into prepared French infantry lines and were forced to retreat.
After tallying the losses—less than a hundred n and so supplies—Bronckhorst felt slightly relieved. However, after the delay, it was nearly 5 PM.
Looking at his exhausted troops who had been standing in formation all day, he ordered the army back to Waterloo to rest, planning to resu the march to Liège the following day at noon.
anwhile, as Carl II pushed his forces forward, he received news that the Dutch had been attacked by the French. A sense of unease crept over him—though Bronckhorst reported that only a thousand French soldiers had been involved, who knew if they were just the vanguard?
After much discussion with his staff, Carl II cautiously decided to send a regint of infantry and three squadrons of cavalry to reinforce the Dutch.
As long as his main force could link up with Blücher, their combined strength would be more than sufficient. Losing less than 2,000 n wouldn't make much difference.
However, shortly after dispatching the reinforcents, Carl II received another report—this ti from the Southern Netherlands—stating that the French had suddenly turned back toward Antwerp.
For a brief mont, Carl II was tempted to ignore everything and rush straight to Liège to crush the Austrian army under General Reyna. Afterward, he could return with Blücher to deal with the damned French.
But he knew the French didn't care about the Austrians' fate, while the survival of the Southern Netherlands parliant was sothing he couldn't ignore.
After cursing furiously for more than ten minutes, he ordered the Hanoverian army to turn north again and march back to Antwerp.
Just two days after his forces set off, the regint he had sent to reinforce the Dutch reported back that they had been ambushed by the French and had lost several hundred n.
(End of Chapter)
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