Chapter 759: Fighting Side by Side with the Crown Prince
According to Joseph's original plan, Lefebvre was supposed to engage in a decisive battle south of Uccle against Prince Coburg's main force.
Both he and Lefebvre assumed that, while the Austrians might be unprepared, they would at least have some level of discipline and scouting precautions in place.
But Coburg, confident in his superior numbers, had completely ignored these basic measures.
As a result, Lefebvre's attack felt less like a battle and more like an ambush on a group of tourists.
Victory came far faster than expected.
Joseph set down his tea cup and turned to the officer who had brought the news.
"Where is General Lefebvre now?"
"He should have reached the outskirts of Maffeigne by now, Your Highness."
Joseph stood up and waved to Kersaud.
"Come, we're going to Maffeigne—immediately."
Kersaud was stunned and quickly stepped forward to block him.
"Your Highness, it's getting dark soon. Shouldn't we wait until morning…?"
Joseph brushed his hand aside and motioned for Eymond to fetch his coat.
"My dear captain, this is a military duty. Gather the guards and prepare to depart."
He had stayed in Wavre despite the risk precisely to boost morale.
Wavre was only 9 kilometers from the battlefield, well within the frontline zone.
The Crown Prince himself had remained near the battle, unafraid of danger—how could the soldiers not be inspired by his courage?
If Emperor Francis II had come to supervise the Austrian army in person, even if they couldn't defeat the French, his presence alone would have forced them to fight for weeks instead of collapsing in a single afternoon.
Joseph had already taken the necessary risks. Now, he intended to maximize their effect.
7:00 PM – Southwest of Maffeigne
At Lefebvre's temporary camp, the French soldiers had just finished their evening meal.
Under the moonlight, they were laying out their blankets, preparing to rest.
Suddenly, a short trumpet call echoed through the camp.
Company commanders hurriedly passed down orders, excitedly telling soldiers to light torches.
Within minutes, the entire camp was glowing with firelight.
The injured soldiers in the medical tents were the first to spot the royal standard.
Struggling to rise, they craned their necks to see who was approaching.
A tall figure in a crisp white cavalry officer's uniform emerged—young, handsome, and unmistakable.
It was the Crown Prince!
"LONG LIVE HIS HIGHNESS!"
A wounded soldier, his arm in a sling, immediately stood as straight as possible and shouted with pride.
Instantly, the entire camp erupted with cheers.
"Long live His Highness!"
"He came to see us, even this late at night!"
"It really is him!"
"IN THE NAME OF THE CROWN PRINCE!"
They had heard rumors that Joseph was in Wavre, but seeing him in person filled them with unimaginable pride.
Their prince had never abandoned them.
He had been fighting alongside them all along.
Suddenly, their wounds no longer felt like burdens—but badges of honor.
Joseph quickly gestured for the wounded to lie back down, then walked to the nearest soldier and extended his hand.
The injured man hesitated, unsure what to do.
Before he could react, Joseph grasped his hand firmly.
He felt the warmth of the Crown Prince's grip and his eyes instantly burned with emotion.
"Your Highness…"
"France thanks you for your courage and sacrifice," Joseph said warmly, squeezing his hand again.
"I hope you recover soon."
"Yes, Your Highness!" The soldier snapped to attention, overwhelmed with emotion.
"I… I…!" He was so overcome he couldn't find the words.
Joseph patted his arm gently, signaling that he understood.
Then, he helped him sit back down before moving to the next wounded soldier.
In this era, where nobles and commoners lived in completely separate worlds, most soldiers had never even imagined shaking hands with royalty.
Now, as Joseph clasped their hands one by one, they felt their pain lessen.
After greeting every wounded man personally, Joseph gave a short speech.
Then, he moved to the next camp, visiting the infantry regiments.
Before long, the entire army was roaring with excitement.
"LONG LIVE THE CROWN PRINCE!"
The soldiers cheered as if it were a festival.
Late Night – Lefebvre's Command Tent
After spending hours ensuring his soldiers had seen him, Joseph finally returned to Lefebvre's tent, visibly exhausted.
Lefebvre, however, was still energized.
He poured Joseph a cup of wine (tea was a luxury in the army, while wine was standard issue) and stood at attention.
**"Your Highness, the men may be exhausted, but Radetzky's troops must be in even worse shape.
"If we attack tomorrow, we can easily take Maffeigne."**
He had seen the fire in the soldiers' eyes.
Despite the forced march and battle, their morale was so high that they could probably seize the town tonight if ordered.
Joseph studied the map, then shook his head.
**"Radetzky's 6,000 men could be wiped out anytime.
"But for now, it's better to let them stay."**
Lefebvre immediately understood.
"You think Josias might send reinforcements, and we can ambush them?"
"Exactly," Joseph nodded.
"What I'm most worried about is Radetzky retreating to Brussels."
Lefebvre hesitated.
"Your Highness… would that really be a problem?"
Joseph smiled knowingly.
"It would make taking Brussels harder."
Lefebvre's mind reeled.
**He had assumed their mission was simply to secure Wallonia.
But now, Joseph was looking at Flanders itself.
Most of Brussels lay in Flanders, with only the southernmost districts belonging to Wallonia.
"Your Highness," Lefebvre said hesitantly, "isn't our army mainly defensive? Would such an offensive be…"
Joseph chuckled.
"If we attack so hard that the enemy has no strength left to counterattack, then our defense is secured."
Brussels hadn't originally been part of his plan.
But with Coburg's army unexpectedly crushed so quickly, the opportunity was too good to ignore.
At this moment, Brussels had no Austrian garrison—
Only Davidovich's Dutch army of 25,000 men.
(Or rather, less than that now—since they had already collapsed once against just four French cavalry companies.)
Joseph knew the Dutch army was one of the weakest in Europe.
Brussels was practically defenseless.
And when the Artois and Rethel Corps arrived in Wavre, Joseph would have 23,000 men.
Enough to take the city.
(End of chapter.)
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