At a high ground two kilometers from the main force of the Hanoverian Army, there stood a small wooden table with two cups of hot tea on it.
Joseph picked up the cup without any additives, signaled to Bertier across the table, and then took a contented sip:
"There's so much good news today."
The latter smiled and nodded:
"Indeed, Your Highness. We didn't expect the Hanoverian artillery to be so rushed that they forgot to destroy their cannons.
"We can even drag those 16 cannons right in front of the Hanoverian lines, doubling our firepower."
The Guard Corps Cavalry Camp had just sent back a message; they had easily annihilated the rearguard of the Hanoverian Army, which lacked the protection of infantry.
The Hanoverians clearly did not expect the French Army to arrive so quickly, and they hardly put up any resistance before they turned and fled in a rout.
Of course, they could not outrun the Hussars.
In just over two hours, three battalions of the Guard Corps Cavalry captured over 800 Hanoverian soldiers and seized all of their 16 cannons, along with a large number of logistical supplies.
As Bertier had said, the Hanoverian soldiers were so panic-stricken that they forgot even the basic operations of setting their baggage on fire and spiking their guns.
The French Cavalry directly drove more than eighty horse-drawn wagons back to the camp, in high spirits.
As they were talking, a staff officer walked over briskly, raised his hat, and saluted:
"Your Highness, General, our forces have broken through the enemy's infantry line on the left flank."
Bertier's face lit up with joy, and he turned to look through his binoculars, but the thick smoke on the battlefield offered no visibility, so he had to turn back and lean over the map to determine the location of the breakthrough.
"It's here," the staff officer hurriedly pointed to the north side of a small river.
"Excellent!" Bertier exclaimed with excitement, "If we let the two skirmisher companies on the right flank cooperate with the tenth infantry regiment to bisect westward, we can form an encirclement around the enemy.
"Oh, and let the Mounted Artillery move to the left flank of the enemy line, driving them south. That will ensure that all enemies fall into our encirclement!"
Joseph leaned over to look at the map and saw that on the face and northeast side of the two-kilometer-long Hanoverian infantry line extending along the river valley, there were as many as six regiments of the Guard Corps infantry, while more than a dozen cannons were bombarding them nonstop from the high ground on the east.
If we were to adjust our forces as Bertier suggested, the Hanoverian Army would have nowhere to retreat except into the river to the south, and they would be inevitably doomed.
The staff officer was about to issue the command to the orderly officer, but then heard the Crown Prince say:
"No, please maintain the current situation. Order the troops to focus on destroying the enemy's cavalry forces and leave them a gap to retreat towards Brussels."
Bertier turned to Joseph in surprise:
"Your Highness, this is a golden opportunity to annihilate the enemy! Why would you want to..."
"It's based on political considerations, General. I will explain it to you later," Joseph replied with a smile, though his tone left no room for doubt, "Now, please carry out as I have instructed."
Joking aside, this Hanoverian Army was a valuable pawn; as long as they existed, Austria, stuck in Silesia, couldn't break free from France.
Now that the Hanoverians had lost all their cannons, if their cavalry were also largely annihilated, coupled with the severe blow to their morale from this battle, they would pose nearly no threat to the Guard Corps in future.
Once all the "rewards" that should be collected were in hand, they could be devoured at any time.
Bertier checked with Joseph once more if he really intended to let the enemy go, and upon receiving an affirmative response, though filled with confusion, he still ordered the orderly officer to do as instructed.
It seemed today was destined to be a day of good news.
About an hour later, a messenger from the front lines arrived at the temporary command post and excitedly reported to Joseph:
"Your Highness, just now General Diel's orderly officer came forward, expressing his willingness to surrender."
Joseph's expression instantly darkened.
Do they have to be so useless? We aren't even surrounding you, and with such a vast gap on the northwest side, don't they know to run? They're going to make George III lose face entirely!
In fact, it wasn't entirely General Diel's fault. His cavalry had just been chased into a valley, and it looked like they couldn't get back. Without cavalry cover, how could he know whether turning to flee would cause him to be pursued by the French cavalry and have his head taken?
Since he was acting in a crisis, he had Charles II to blame if he surrendered. So, he chose the safest option—surrender.
Joseph looked at the orderly officer beside him and said in a deep voice:
"A joke! How could the brave Hanoverian Army possibly surrender?
"This must be their ploy to lure our army into lowering its guard!
"Send that faker of a surrender back, and tell his commander that we will not be fooled!"
"Ah, this..." Several officers exchanged glances upon hearing this.
Bertier was the first to react, leaning close to Joseph's ear:
"Your Highness, is this also a 'political consideration'?"
Before long, General Diel, finding nowhere to surrender amidst the ongoing fierce attacks from the Guard Corps, took the risk of escaping towards Brussels.
After receiving the latest battle report, Joseph finally relaxed and ordered the cavalry, exhausted from a day's battle, to rest on the spot while the infantry cautiously pursued, without entering the suburbs of Brussels.
The city of Brussels was now in the Flemish Region. That wasn't France's current strategic objective.
"Lads, still got the energy to teach the Dutch a lesson?"
Marson called out cheerfully to the soldiers sitting on the ground.
Answering him was a vigorous shout: "Yes!"
"Company Commander, sir, this is much easier than the regular drill exercises."
"We have enough energy for a forced march to Amsterdam! Haha!"
Pleased, Marson nodded, said a few more words to boost morale, and was about to order the last assault on Bronckhorst—over the past few days, he had divided the Dutch into three parts, with over 1,400 men killed or captured. At this moment, Bronckhorst was desperately making for Brussels in the hope of finding shelter from the Hanoverians. However, in their rush, their formation had become extremely disordered, making them very susceptible to attack.
Just then, a Hussar came rushing to report to Marson:
"Company Commander, sir, we have spotted a small group of Hanoverian soldiers near the northern woods, and from their uniforms, it seems there are a few high-ranking officers among them."
"Oh? Hanoverians?" Marson narrowed his eyes. According to the information previously received from the staff office, the main Hanoverian force should have been dozens of kilometers to the east, so how did officers end up here?
He quickly asked the Hussar, "How many of them are there?"
"No more than 400 men, Commander."
Marson then glanced toward the southwest, where there were nearly 2,000 Dutch troops, and then looked to the north, where the Hanoverian officers had mysteriously approached.
Ultimately, his gaze settled on the north.