The French had built a large number of ironworks in Wallonia, as well as two major coal mines. Their investments amounted to several million pounds sterling.
As long as the English Army could break through the Brussels defensive line, the French factories would all be destroyed.
Sir Moore was already envisioning a bright future. If the French Army did not react quickly enough, he might even be able to push into Luxembourg. There were also extensive French iron mines there.
And after that came Verdun—the last fortress before Paris.
At one in the afternoon, a staff officer reported to Sir Moore, "General, the Central Route Army has finished crossing the river. Would you like to inspect the defensive line on the south bank?"
Thanks to the Dutchmen recruited from nearby, who had worked day and night, four parallel pontoon bridges had been built across the Waal River. This made the crossing extremely efficient.
Moore's gaze remained fixed on the map. He waved a hand. "Let colonel Patrick take charge of the defensive line."
Before his words had even faded, a tremendous roar came from the opposite bank.
Those were 12-pound Cannons!
Moore hurriedly raised his telescope and saw two white "lines" advancing along the Waal River beach from east and west, closing in on his army like pincers.
"Wh... where did they come from?" He blinked hard, then looked again. The two French forces had drawn even closer.
"Patrick!" Sir Moore shouted. "Have the hussars cover the right flank! Go organize the defense on the left flank immediately!"
He himself seized the reins, leaped onto the saddle, and galloped toward the opposite bank.
But his Guard Captain quickly caught up, and he and several guards firmly blocked his path.
On the south bank, the English soldiers were harnessing horses, carrying