Chapter 173: Anglo-French Standoff
"What do you mean, General?" asked the English officer in terror after hearing Balmoral's words.
"That's right, it's highly likely that the incoming troops are French." As he spoke, Balmoral's expression grew even more somber.
"This is really an inauspicious start. I didn't expect to encounter French combat units right after landing. But how could French combat units appear here? Could it be…?" The more Balmoral thought about it, the more alarmed he became. If reality matched his thoughts, it would be disastrous.
"Boom!" As the English troops finished forming their ranks, the sound of hoofbeats in the distance grew nearer and nearer. Finally, a cavalryman appeared on the horizon, catching Balmoral's eye. What alarmed him even more was the tricolor flag held by the cavalryman, the flag of France. This confirmed his suspicion: the newcomers were not Dutch troops but French cavalry.
"Damn it, what's going on? How can French troops be here? Could it be that the entire Netherlands has already fallen to the French?" Balmoral wondered frantically. But the tense situation didn't allow him much time to think. With the French right in front of him, he had to be prepared to resist their attack.
"Enemy spotted, ready muskets!" Balmoral ordered. Under his command, all English soldiers raised their muskets, aiming at the approaching French troops, ready to fire at any moment.
On the other side, the French troops were equally baffled. As they drew closer to the enemy, they realized that the opponents were not in the yellow uniforms of the Dutch army but in red uniforms, with the Union Jack flying prominently in their formation.
These signs clearly indicated their identity: they were not the Dutch army but the English.
"Captain, what's going on? Why are there English troops here?" a French lieutenant asked his captain in confusion.
"You're asking me? How should I know?" the French captain replied, equally puzzled.
"So what should we do now? Retreat or attack?" the French lieutenant continued to ask.
"Retreat! After all, the military didn't tell us we were going to fight the English," another soldier suggested.
"But this is Middelburg, Dutch territory. Naturally, it's also French territory. The English have landed here, which is an act of invasion," the French lieutenant argued.
"Stop arguing and let me think," the French captain said, now also in a daze. He didn't know whether they should attack or retreat. If they attacked, it would mean starting a war with England, a decision he neither had the authority nor the capability to make. But if they just retreated, it would be a dereliction of duty since their orders were to recapture Middelburg. Retreating without a fight was not an option.
"All soldiers, listen up! Surround the English troops in front of us," the cavalry captain finally ordered after a long period of contemplation.
"Surround them? But we only have one battalion of over three hundred men, while the English troops number at least twenty thousand," the soldier behind the cavalry captain exclaimed in astonishment upon hearing the order. Surrounding twenty thousand troops with only three hundred seemed utterly inconceivable.
"What's the matter? You're not afraid of attacking, but you're afraid of surrounding them?" the cavalry captain retorted to the lieutenant.
"Of course, I'm not afraid! From the moment I became a soldier, I was prepared to die on the battlefield," the French lieutenant responded passionately to his captain's words.
"Good. We will first surround this group of English troops. This shows our stance without provoking a war. You immediately go to Brussels to request reinforcements from General Murat and His Highness Roland. Inform them that we have encountered a large number of English troops in Middelburg and request immediate support," the cavalry captain ordered.
"What? If I leave, what about you?"
"Don't worry about me. A war won't break out in an instant. You just go and request reinforcements," the cavalry captain reassured him.
Without further hesitation, the cavalry lieutenant led his soldiers forward to surround the English troops.
Inside the English camp in Middelburg, the English soldiers were also in a state of panic as they watched the French cavalry surround them. They gripped their muskets tightly, their hands trembling with anxiety.
"Everyone listen up! No one is to fire without my command. Anyone who disobeys will be court-martialed," Balmoral commanded firmly. Just as the French cavalry captain thought, without orders from the high command to start a war, no one dared to fire the first shot.
If this incident led to a war between the two countries, no one could bear the responsibility. Thus, a standoff was the best option.
"General Balmoral, the French have surrounded us. Shouldn't we resist?" Seeing the French cavalry closing in, the English troops grew even more anxious.
"Hahaha!" Surprisingly, General Balmoral merely laughed in response to his subordinate's inquiry.
"General, what's going on?" His subordinates didn't understand why Balmoral was laughing.
"Aren't you guys a bit too nervous? There are only a few hundred French soldiers over there, while we have twenty thousand troops. Should we be afraid of them?" Balmoral said lightly.
"Alright, everyone, listen up! No one is to attack without my command. Wait for orders from the rear. I believe it won't take long," Balmoral concluded.
In the end, under the identical orders from both commanders, the English and French troops did not attack each other. Instead, they stood facing each other with their weapons, maintaining a tense standoff.
...
In the City of Brussels
Murat and Roland were busy sorting through various government documents of the Netherlands. Although the Netherlands had been occupied by the French army, it required considerable effort to establish stable governance. Additionally, officials needed to be dispatched from mainland France, creating a plethora of tasks.
For two whole days, Murat and Roland had been immersed in the city hall of the Netherlands, dealing with these matters.
At noon, as usual, after finishing the government affairs, Murat and Roland finally got a short break. It was the rarest moment of rest in their day. However, today, they were destined to have no rest.
Outside the government hall, a French soldier rode up on horseback, anxiously rushing to the location. He dismounted and ran towards where Murat and Roland were.
"Stop! General Murat and General Roland are resting," the guard at the door tried to block him.
"Move aside, don't stop me, there's a big emergency. The English have attacked!" The cavalryman had no time for explanations; he pushed the guard aside and ran in, shouting as he went.
"What? The English have attacked?" The guard, initially about to intervene, was stunned by the cavalryman's words. The English had attacked. Were the two countries going to war? How could this be possible?
In that moment of the guard's shock, the French cavalryman had already burst into the city hall.
"What's going on? What happened? Why is it so chaotic?" Roland emerged with a cup of tea, just in time to see the commotion.
"Colonel Roland, there's a major issue. The English have attacked," the French cavalryman, seeing Roland, felt a glimmer of hope and hurriedly reported.
"What? The English have attacked? How is this possible? What exactly happened? Explain clearly," Roland asked urgently. The involvement of the English was no small matter. Although the French government had anticipated that the English might involve themselves in the Netherlands situation, no one had expected them to directly dispatch troops to the Netherlands.
"It's Middelburg. Today, my unit was ordered to recapture Middelburg, but during the march, we discovered that Middelburg had already been occupied by the English. The English have deployed at least twenty thousand troops there. The 88th Battalion is currently confronting them," the French cavalryman reported anxiously.
"Middelburg? Did the English land there? Damn it, how did our navy not have any information about this? Useless," Roland cursed angrily.