Chapter 82

While England and Spain were exchanging blows at sea, another land war was simultaneously breaking out in the Netherlands.

The British army marched day and night to the Netherlands. After a brief rest in the small town of Leiden to recover the soldiers' strength, they were ready to fight the Spanish army.

At an impromptu meeting, William van Orange pointed to a parchment map and shared his thoughts.

"I have a suggestion: we can divide the army into three parts and advance from Adova in the south, Lingbao in the east, and Groningen in the north. Then we can encircle and attack the Spanish, making them too busy to deal with our brave soldiers."

The Earl of Hertford, standing nearby, took out a measuring tape and carefully compared the distances between the cities on the map to the actual approximate distances. After consulting with a local man who had come to investigate the terrain, he politely rejected the suggestion.

“The soldiers’ flexible dispersion also means the battle is scattered. The Spanish forces are powerful, Prince, so we are even less able to face defeat than they are. It is safer to keep everyone together,” Albert said.

“But I was just imitating the tactics of that previous war. I used the worst soldiers to briefly delay the enemy’s best soldiers, then the ordinary soldiers fought against the enemy’s peasant soldiers, and the elite army immediately went out to attack the Duke of Alba in Spain…” William van Orange said, puzzled.

He was referring to the war in which the current Queen of England fought for the throne.

The brilliant tactics of that war have been passed down and highly praised by generals of various European countries, and have even spread to the distant Ottoman Empire.

In particular, the Battle of London made the Earl of Hertford famous overnight, and he became a rising star on the battlefield with a small reputation throughout Europe.

"The reason we succeeded back then was because Elizabeth I was so eager to annihilate Her Majesty that she fell into the trap. But now, there is no such important figure in the army who can turn the tide of the war. The Duke of Alba is not in a hurry to fight us to the death unless we can tie the King of Spain to the army's tent..." Albert said calmly, "...Fighting on three fronts is too risky. The battlegrounds are too far apart, and it is difficult for the armies to support each other. If one side is defeated, the other two sides will also be in danger."

Several years ago, when Her Majesty was still Queen of Scotland, she would call a few people over to chat every evening after dinner at Holyrood Palace, and once casually remarked something.

The art of war, to put it bluntly, is about dividing and encircling.

Albert remembered that sentence very clearly.

Whether it's due to food shortages, conspiracies, political situations in the rear, or natural geographical advantages... in short, the way to deal with the enemy is to find ways to divide their forces, and then gather enough forces to overwhelm them and launch a full-scale attack.

As a renowned Spanish general, if the Duke of Alba saw that the enemy's forces were scattered, he would never follow suit and divide his troops. Instead, he would be overjoyed and lead all his troops to set out and wipe out the enemy's army one by one.

The Earl of Hertford did not explain in much detail, but William van Orange gave him a puzzled look, not because of the war decision, but because of the young man's sudden change in mood.

As a nobleman who had spent half his life in administration, his understanding of war was limited to a few superficial things he had learned from conversations with his friend, General Horn. Therefore, he had absolutely no intention of instructing an expert or forcibly commanding the British army in a major battle.

What he didn't understand was Hertford Berger's sudden somber expression.

"Would it be feasible to continue guerrilla warfare? I used this method before, which left the Spanish helpless, only able to hide in their tents in frustration to guard against sneak attacks," William van Orange added.

“I have heard of the fighting methods of those brave soldiers, and your wisdom is admirable…” Albert complimented, then added, “...but now we have too many men to completely hide in the forest or on small boats at sea.”

William Van Orange sighed, frowned in distress, and continued to think.

The Netherlands has a mild climate with warm winters and cool summers. Near the sea, the warm and pleasant summer breeze blows in through the windows, bringing the fragrance of tulips. Further away, the pale white waves are faintly visible, but are blocked by the seawall.

This is a lowland climate with vast plains suitable for growing crops. The ports along the coast provide direct access to the Atlantic, Pacific, Indian Oceans, the Mediterranean, and the Baltic Seas. It is a very rich and beautiful land. However, in times of war, this also means that there is no natural barrier or high mountain valley to ambush soldiers.

Under the pale golden sunlight, the Earl of Hertford studied the map for a long time without any clue, so he looked at the wooden window to relieve his fatigue.

"...A seawall has been built here in Leiden?" Albert suddenly asked.

“Yes, the terrain here is lower than sea level, and the farmers have to reinforce and repair it every year, otherwise seawater will flood in…” William Van Orange suddenly raised his head halfway through his sentence, his expression excited.

...

On a warship off the coast of Britain.

As night approached, the first day of the war gradually came to an end.

The soldiers were too exhausted to continue fighting, and the frequency of the artillery fire gradually decreased to nothing. The commanders of both sides reluctantly ordered a ceasefire and ordered the warships to sail together and cautiously withdraw from the central battle zone. At the same time, they were eyeing each other covetously, wanting to take advantage of each other's weaknesses.

On the dark sea, the atmosphere inside Spain was extremely somber. A dozen or so high-ranking generals sat around a round table, but none of them spoke first.

"This is unbelievable! Is the devil helping those Englishmen?!" Finally, a rude officer who had risen through the ranks from the bottom and through his own abilities slammed his fist on the table and exclaimed.

The strange cannons and muskets equipped by the English soldiers were far more powerful than those of the Spanish. With such bizarre weapons, the British navy only managed to fight them to a draw during the day, and even had a slight advantage.

Once this sentence was uttered, the Spanish officers on both sides began to talk at once. The key issue was that their weapons were all suppressed, and even the soldiers were starting to feel fear from being beaten.

The Spanish Navy Admiral Alessandro, who was in charge, had even more to think about, and therefore felt a chill run down his spine.

He had a premonition that if he couldn't defeat England this time, and if England was given more time to develop, Spain would never be able to dominate the seas again.

“The new weapon is a big deal… I need to write back to Madrid as soon as possible to report this to His Majesty Philip,” said Admiral Alessandro.

"Should we sail the ship to a more distant part of the sea first?" an officer asked.

"No, we can't let the British see that we've shown weakness... Besides, today is only slightly unfavorable. With the most warships in all of Europe, victory will still belong to us!" Admiral Alessandro immediately said.

Alessandro ordered the officers to go back to rest and sleep, to conserve their energy for the next battle against the English. He then went into his room to write a letter, sealed it with a secret seal and varnish, and rang the bell to call his secretary.

The secretary, a quick-witted, lively, and efficient young Spaniard, seemed listless today. He even dropped the important confidential letter onto the ground covered with dirty footprints.

"Wake up, kid! You're still young, you should be more careful in your actions!" the naval commander shouted.

“I’m very sorry, Your Excellency Alessandro,” the secretary said, straightening up immediately.

"Get out," said Admiral Alessandro.

As soon as he left with the letter, out of Lord Alessandro's sight, the secretary continued to slump listlessly.

He hadn't been feeling well lately, with a persistent low-grade fever and chills, and he felt a dull ache and weakness all over his body, but he dared not tell the stern Lord Alessandro about it.

Thinking that it should be fine in a few more days, the secretary, who was about to go to the ship's doctor to get some more medicine, scratched her arm and chin.

It looks like I was bitten by insects there; there are several red rashes.