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Chapter 759: Fighting Alongside the Crown Prince

According to Joseph's original plan, Lefebvre was to lead his forces south of Uccle and engage Prince Coburg's main army in a decisive battle.

He, Lefebvre, and the others believed the Austrian army would be caught off guard, but they expected at least standard marching discipline and perimeter warnings.

However, Prince Coburg, confident in his overwhelming numerical superiority, completely disregarded such precautions.

The result was a swift and decisive rout, as if Lefebvre had ambushed a group of picnickers.

Joseph placed the teacup he had just received on the table and asked the reporting officer, "Where is General Lefebvre now?"

"The General should have reached the vicinity of Maffle by now, Your Highness."

Joseph rose and waved to Clauzel. "Let's go. We're heading to Maffle immediately."

Clauzel was instantly alarmed and blocked his path. "Your Highness, night is falling. Perhaps we should wait until tomorrow..."

Joseph pushed his hand away and gestured for Eman to fetch his coat. "My dear Captain of the Guard, this is a military mission. Please assemble the guard and prepare to depart as quickly as possible."

After all, Wavre was only 9 kilometers from where Lefebvre routed Prince Coburg, placing it squarely within the front lines.

How could the soldiers not be filled with high spirits and fighting resolve when the Crown Prince, fearless of danger, personally came to the front lines with them?

If Franz II could also come to the Southern Netherlands to oversee the battle, even if the Austrian army couldn't defeat the French, they would surely grit their teeth and hold on for ten days or half a month in front of His Imperial Majesty, instead of suffering a complete rout in a single afternoon.

Joseph had already taken the necessary risks; now it was time to maximize the impact.

7:00 PM.

Southwest of Maffle.

In the temporary camp of the French army led by Lefebvre, the soldiers had finished dinner and were arranging their blankets by moonlight, preparing to rest.

Just then, a short bugle call echoed through the camp, and company commanders received orders, excitedly urging everyone to light torches.

Ten minutes later, the entire camp was illuminated.

The casualty camp was the first to spot the Crown Prince's ceremonial banner. Wounded soldiers eagerly scrambled up, peering past the flag.

A crisp white cavalry officer's uniform, an handsome and youthful face – it was indeed the Crown Prince!

"Long live the Crown Prince!"

A soldier with an injured arm excitedly stood at attention, chest out, and shouted.

Immediately, the entire camp filled with excited and proud shouts: "Long live the Crown Prince!"

"The Crown Prince is still visiting us this late."

"It's really His Highness the Crown Prince!"

"In the name of the Crown Prince!"

They had indeed heard that the Crown Prince was commanding the rear guard in Wavre, but seeing His Highness personally visit them now filled their hearts with immense emotion.

'So His Highness has been fighting alongside us all this time.'

'My wounds weren't for nothing. No, these scars are the highest honor!'

Joseph quickly motioned for everyone to lie back on their stretchers, then extended his hand to the nearest soldier.

The soldier looked bewildered for a moment, then realized the Crown Prince had taken his hand and squeezed it firmly.

Feeling the warmth in his palm, his nose immediately stung with emotion. "Your Highness..."

"France thanks you for your bravery and sacrifice!" Joseph squeezed his hand again, speaking in a gentle tone. "I hope you recover swiftly."

"Yes, Your Highness!" The wounded soldier snapped to attention, too overcome with emotion to speak. "I... you..."

Joseph nodded, gently patted his arm, indicating he understood, and helped him sit back on the stretcher.

He then moved to the next wounded soldier, shaking his hand firmly.

In an era where nobles and commoners were distinctly separated, ordinary soldiers had never experienced, or even heard of, such a thing. After the Crown Prince shook their hands, they almost felt their wounds hurt less than before.

After shaking hands with every wounded soldier, Joseph delivered a brief speech before moving to the next camp to offer condolences to the infantry regiments.

Soon, the entire camp was abuzz with excitement, soldiers loudly cheering, "Long live the Crown Prince!" It was like a festival.

It wasn't until late into the night, after Joseph had shown himself to tens of thousands of soldiers, that he wearily returned to Lefebvre's officer's tent.

Lefebvre also appeared very excited. He had an aide bring wine for the Crown Prince—a military ration, common for every soldier, whereas tea was a luxury in the army—and then stood at attention. "Your Highness, although the soldiers are exhausted, I believe Radetzky's corps must have even lower morale. If we launch an attack tomorrow, we can quickly seize Maffle."

He had just witnessed the soldiers' eager cries for battle; their morale was so high it didn't seem like they had just undergone continuous forced marches and fought for most of the day.

Forget tomorrow; even if they were ordered to attack Maffle right now, he estimated they could take it instantly.

Joseph looked at the map and waved a hand. "Radetzky's six thousand men can be wiped out at any time, but for now, it's better to leave them be."

Lefebvre immediately understood. "You mean Josias might send reinforcements for him, and we can ambush them?"

"Exactly," Joseph nodded. "What I'm most worried about is him fleeing back to Brussels."

Lefebvre paused. "Your Highness, if he returns, it doesn't seem to have much impact..."

Joseph smiled, looking at him. "It will affect our capture of Brussels."

Lefebvre felt a bit dizzy. He had initially thought that routing Prince Coburg's forces and securing Wallonia was the best possible outcome, but he hadn't expected the Crown Prince to already have his sights set on Flanders.

The vast majority of Brussels belonged to Flanders, with only a small southern part within Wallonia.

Lefebvre hesitated. "Your Highness, the Army of the Southern Netherlands is primarily responsible for strategic defense. Wouldn't such a large-scale offensive be..."

Joseph chuckled. "If we cripple the enemy's ability to attack, then our defensive objectives will certainly be foolproof."

Attacking Brussels was indeed not part of his initial plan, but the unexpected swift rout of Prince Coburg's main force had created a rare opportunity in the Southern Netherlands. This gave him new ideas.

Brussels no longer had any Austrian troops, only Widowicz's 25,000 Dutch legion. Oh, there might be fewer now, given that they had been scattered by four cavalry companies that afternoon.

Joseph was well aware of the Dutch army's fighting capability; it was absolutely among the lowest in Europe.

In other words, Brussels' defenses were unprecedentedly weak at this moment.

Once the Artois Legion, Rethel Legion, and other veteran units arrived in Wavre, he would have 23,000 soldiers, making the capture of Brussels a very real possibility!