Over ten thousand members of the Rebel Army from the Netherlands had formed two narrow lines of foot soldiers on the gentle slope, each line consisting of three ranks with soldiers tightly packed together, seemingly well-arranged from a distance.
However, their disheveled attire and the mismatched flintlock guns in their hands were undeniable proof that they were nothing more than a hastily assembled ragtag militia.
In fact, it had taken them a full six hours since early this morning to form their lines of infantry into a semblance of order, leaving several Dutch commanders with cramps in their legs from exhaustion.
When the motley crew saw the opposing dark lines of Austrians begin to move in the distance and a swarm of skirmishers advancing towards them nimbly like ants, their hands almost uncontrollably began to tremble.
Behind them, more than a thousand Prussian soldiers kept shouting, “Stay calm, do nothing!”
Priests within the Dutch lines quietly reminded the soldiers beside them, “Don’t think about anything when the time comes, just reload as quickly as possible. Then listen for the drumbeat.”
As the fastest Austrian skirmishers appeared 80 paces in front of the Dutch line, they began to take cover behind weeds or stones, shooting at the South Netherlanders.
A few bullets whizzed through the air, striking the line and immediately soldiers howled as they fell to the ground, twitching and writhing in pain.
The Prussian soldiers behind them immediately shouted, “Don’t move! Move the dead away! Keep the formation tight! Quick!”
However, the untrained Dutch seemed as if they hadn’t heard a thing, simply joining in the cries of the wounded or subconsciously raising their guns to aim at the distant Austrians.
As the Austrian main force continuously closed in, skirmishers began to spread out to either side, clearing the front of the battlefield.
Prussian officers, estimating that the distance between the two infantry lines was less than a hundred paces, ordered the Dutch to start loading their guns.
The orderly rider delivered the loading commands, while the drummers beat the specific rhythm for loading—the soldiers could maintain the highest efficiency in handling their weapons by following this tempo.
The Austrians kept advancing, coming within sixty paces of the enemy and still showing no sign of ceasing their gunfire.
The Dutch lines finally snapped—with the crushing pressure of nearly ten thousand men bearing down on them, the soldiers’ minds went blank, wishing only to drive these people away by any means necessary.
Sporadic gunfire erupted throughout the ranks. Fearful that the ragtag army might squander their ammunition in such disarray, the Prussian officers had no choice but to order a general volley.
The messy half-minute “salvo” enshrouded the Dutch position in black gun smoke, yet the results were minimal—the Austrians continued to advance in orderly formation.
It wasn’t until the forces were 50 paces apart that the Austrian Army came to a halt, and amidst a volley of intense drumbeats, the soldiers raised their flintlock guns.
“Fire!”
At the Austrian commander’s order, a sea of infantry along the line discharged a burst of flame. The fierce volley blasted hundreds of small gaps into the Dutch line.
The Dutch priest screamed at the top of his lungs, “Don’t be afraid! Continue reloading! For your families, to drive away the Habsburg tyrant, everyone hold fast!”
Seemingly spurred on by this encouragement, the ragtag army, although shaking, still managed to reload their guns and then clenched their teeth, raised their weapons, and waited for the Prussian officer’s command.
On a hill in the distance, General Willemze frowned as he looked through his binoculars at the battlefield.
His valiant grenadiers had performed over a dozen volleys at the Dutch, killing at least a thousand men, but there was still no sign of them collapsing.
Behind the Dutch infantry lines, there was another line of infantry for defense. Further back, there should have been Prussians.
“These damn rebels! Why are they still standing there?” he cursed under his breath, pondering whether to send more skirmishers to tear at the enemy’s flanks when suddenly he heard the urgent hooves of a scout rapidly approaching.
He had just turned his head when he heard the breathless voice shout, “General, the Prussians are encircling our right flank!”
Before Wilmze could react, his staff officer, clutching a telescope, approached in alarm, “General, there’s a disturbance in the cavalry on the left flank, it might be enemy forces there!”
Wilmze’s face went ashen. It seemed the Prussians were not behind the Dutch infantry lines. The Duke of Brunswick had used his main forces to launch a surprise attack on both his flanks!
He waved his cane forcefully and commanded the orderly officer, “Order Schulder to break through the enemy’s front at all costs, with the utmost speed! Once we crush their infantry lines first, victory will be ours!”
In the battles of large troop contingents of this era, the frontal defense line was akin to the waist of a person; once breached, commanders would have nowhere to stand. Trapped by poor communication capabilities, if the commander had to move at high speed to escape enemy attacks, the orderly officers would immediately lose track of him, causing the whole army to lose its command.
Moreover, after losing control of the front battlefield, it meant that the artillery and cavalry would no longer have a safe space to prepare, which for these two types of forces that require extensive preparation, was equivalent to losing combat capability.
So as long as the front confrontation was won, the losses on both flanks didn’t matter at all.
The Austrian Grenadier battalion on the right side of the infantry lines advanced even more bravely, pushing forward and returning fire despite the Dutch bullets.
Finally, after suffering heavy casualties, they tore a gap on the left side of the Dutch lines.
Austrian skirmishers, like sharks smelling blood, immediately swarmed towards that gap, shooting non-stop at officers and drummers to increase the enemy’s confusion.
Wilmze, seeing the collapse of the Dutch’s first line of infantry, clenched his fist excitedly, then looked anxiously towards the right, where one could faintly hear the hoofbeats of Prussian cavalry.
The combat effectiveness of the Austrian cavalry was originally inferior to that of the Prussians, and having already divided some forces to the left flank, they could not hold the Prussians off for long.
He turned the telescope again, his heart anxiously urging Schulder to quickly rip open the Dutch’s second line of defense.
On the other side, the Duke of Brunswick put down his telescope, and said to the orderly officer with a relaxed expression, “Tell the Dutch that if they can hold on for just 15 more minutes, the Austrians will be driven out of this land.”
He could estimate the speed of his main forces, which by now should have already made contact with the Austrian right flank.
Yes, his cavalry was just a cover; he had committed all 14,000 of his Prussian main forces to encircle the Austrian right flank, that was his trump card!
After this interaction with the South Netherlanders, he was immensely impressed with their resilience.
Although these ragtag troops were weak in combat and couldn’t even form proper ranks, their morale was incredibly high—perhaps the pursuit of what they called freedom made them willing to die rather than live under Austrian rule. Particularly the priests, who seemed ready to ascend to heaven, facing any enemy without fear.
So he made his judgment: although these Dutch couldn’t possibly defeat the Austrian Army, simply holding Wilmze back was very feasible.
On the distant battlefield, the second line of Dutch infantry, riddled with holes from the battle, seemed on the verge of collapse but held on without breaking.
The Prussians supervising the battle from behind had several killed by stray bullets, starting to cause chaos, but the Dutch still stood there, clumsily reloading with shaking hands, firing wildly at the Austrians until bullets claimed their lives, yet never moving their feet…
And on the Austrian right flank, at this moment, it was being crushed into dust by the overwhelmingly superior Prussian Army.