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The Crown Prince of France - Chapter 37
🕑 Added 2025-02-22 19:07:01 +0000 UTCChapter 37: The War in Holland
Five kilometers south of Amsterdam.
Outside the brightly lit Prussian military camp, André was directing soldiers to unload two small cannons from the backs of their horses.
Given that this was a light cavalry raid, heavy cannons were impractical. André had brought only a pair of lightweight one-pounder cannons, each weighing less than 200 pounds and easily transportable on a single horse.
He hadn’t even bothered with gun carriages. Instead, he dug a pit into the ground, propped the cannon barrel at an angle, and didn’t expect much accuracy against the Prussians.
Gunpowder was loaded, followed by the cannonballs. Fire.
Two thunderous blasts broke the stillness of the Prussian camp, throwing their ranks into chaos.
By the time the Prussians identified the direction of the assault and retaliated with more than a dozen cannons, André had already secured the small cannon back onto his horse and vanished into the darkness, heading south toward Utrecht.
The Duke of Brunswick, the Prussian army's commander-in-chief, had a restless night. He was bewildered as to why the Dutch, who had been soundly defeated, would dare to provoke him.
At dawn the next day, he dispatched cavalry to thoroughly search the surrounding area. Confirming there were no ambushes, he ordered his forces to continue advancing toward Amsterdam.
Yet, at that very moment, the Prussian vanguard encountered a Dutch ambush.
Although the Prussians had not anticipated an enemy offensive, their soldiers, meticulously trained under Frederick II, quickly mounted a counterattack.
The Dutch, predictably, crumbled. After losing twenty soldiers, they scattered in disarray.
The Prussian vanguard commander, Blücher, reacted with remarkable speed. He immediately led his troops in pursuit, rapidly reaching the eastern shore of Lake Abcoude.
Before him stretched a Dutch line formation that spanned several kilometers—a quintessential 18th-century infantry tactic. Soldiers, spaced one to three steps apart, stood in rows of three or four, forming a massive, orderly line. In this formation, tens of thousands of men would take turns firing muskets at the enemy.
Blücher smirked. Was this the Dutch plan? Lure me into overextending and ambush me here?
"Hmph, you underestimate the discipline of Prussian soldiers!" he sneered, issuing orders for his troops to halt their pursuit and form a line of their own, while deploying the Camburg Battalion and an additional company to launch a column assault.
The Prussians moved with extraordinary efficiency. Within twenty minutes, over 4,000 soldiers had formed their battle lines.
A 1-kilometer-long formation of 2,300 men faced the Dutch infantry, while behind them, 800 troops formed dozens of columns, ready to charge at any moment.
Additionally, nearly 200 cavalry units were positioned on the flanks, awaiting orders.
The sheer organization and discipline of the Prussians sent chills down the spines of their Dutch adversaries.
A bugle call signaled the advance. Prussian drums beat a rapid tempo, and company commanders simultaneously raised their hands, giving the order to attack.
Meanwhile, several four-pounder cannons, interspersed among the Prussian ranks, roared to life.
As the Prussian soldiers steadily advanced to the drumbeats, the two infantry lines grew closer. Under the bombardment, the Dutch began to waver. Officers had to draw their sabers to push their troops back into position.
When the two sides closed to within 100 meters, the Dutch line erupted in flashes of musket fire. The Prussians, however, seemed unfazed, marching forward in lockstep as though the enemy were merely setting off fireworks.
Even as men fell, the Prussian ranks advanced unflinchingly. At 60 meters, the drumbeats abruptly ceased.
“Raise your muskets, aim—fire!”
The officers’ commands rang out, and the Prussian soldiers executed a perfectly coordinated volley. The Dutch line immediately fractured, with gaps appearing amidst cries of panic.
When the firefight began in earnest, the Dutch were quickly outmatched. The gulf in military training became glaringly obvious.
For every five shots fired by the Prussians, the Dutch managed only three. The Prussians fired in unison, their entire line discharging simultaneously, while the Dutch were erratic, with some soldiers firing haphazardly without even aiming.
After over a dozen volleys, smoke enveloped the battlefield, and the Dutch began a full retreat.
Seeing this, Blücher wasted no time in ordering, “Column assault!”
“Yes, sir!”
At the sound of a distinctive drumbeat, over 40 Prussian columns charged through the smoke, fearlessly advancing as their line took ten steps forward.
The Prussian assault columns immediately lost a dozen men, but their formation absorbed the hits. The soldiers in front shielded those behind, allowing the columns to press onward at a steady jog.
The Dutch infantry line quickly disintegrated. Their soldiers fled in panic but were soon regrouped by officers and orderly dispersed to the east and west, avoiding the Prussian onslaught.
Blücher, peering through his telescope, observed the situation and pointed westward. “Send the cavalry to pursue them.”
“Yes, sir!”
His sharp observation paid off. The Dutch forces on the east, commanded by Volst, were more organized, while those to the west were clearly in disarray.
Blücher himself led the main force, pushing forward. At this rate, they could capture Amsterdam by day's end.
However, just as the Dutch soldiers had vacated the central battlefield, urgent cannon fire erupted from the Prussian’s forward flank.
Massive iron balls shrieked through the air, cutting bloody paths through the Prussian line. One iron ball rolled another 40 meters after landing, crushing a commander's leg before coming to a halt.
Blücher’s eye twitched. Judging by the sound, there were at least a dozen cannons—and they were of significant caliber.
Having marched relentlessly for days, Blücher had only brought five four-pounder cannons, which were quickly suppressed by the enemy’s firepower.
The momentum of the Prussian assault stalled. Blücher hesitated, glanced toward the distant city of Amsterdam, and reluctantly ordered a reserve half-battalion forward...
Two hours after the Duke of Brunswick had marched with the main Prussian force, he heard the roar of heavy artillery to the north. He frowned slightly. His cannons were with him, and Blücher had only five small ones—such intensity of firepower was impossible.
In other words, the Dutch had artillery?
But their artillery corps had been annihilated half a month ago. Even if they had acquired cannons, they lacked trained gunners.
Artillerymen were the hardest to train, requiring years of rigorous practice and solid mathematical knowledge. Even then, dozens of shots might yield only a single hit.
The Duke of Brunswick was perplexed when a breathless courier galloped up, reporting a large force of Dutch cavalry near Utrecht.
His heart tightened. Utrecht was his logistical base, the source of daily supplies for the frontline. It was irreplaceable.
What were the Dutch planning?
As an experienced commander, he quickly dismissed his doubts with a cold smile. With his overwhelming numerical superiority, why should he dance to the enemy's tune?
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