The Dutch Read Free Page A

last reply, the great Lord Derick had difficulty holding back a smile as he chastised Jacobus for delaying the column’s advance “so needlessly”.
    When they arrived at the rendezvous of Holland’s Army, as the Baron had anticipated, Count Albert was extremely unhappy to see that his contingent was missing its skilled bowmen. While Albert had brought ample bowmen with him, he never felt he had enough archers to soften the enemy formation with a flood of arrows, before the almost ritualistic charge of the heavily armored mounted knights and squires usually decided the outcome of his campaigns. The angry Count immediately designated the Droger Land’s unorthodox cavalry to the ranks of the reserves. As was the right of nobility, the Regent’s action allowed the Baron and his son to decline his invitation to participate, without their horsemen, in that traditional charge of mounted knights.
    The night before the battle, Derick excused himself from the festivities at the Regent’s regal quarters for Albert always partied before a conflict. Alone with his son, by the light of a campfire, he drew an outline on the wet soil of the battlefield and shared with his son his vision of the upcoming battle. He suspected their unit would see hard fighting no matter what the Regent thought. Derick wanted Jacobus to command their men should he fall in battle or become separated from the unit during the struggle. More importantly, he also wanted his son to know that if the ancient gods helped them overcome the enemy, there would be no pursuit of the defeated Frisian knights. “They are more our noble kinsmen than the Regent and all his elevated hounds’ men from Holland’s cities. My son, remember these brave Frisians deserve a better fate than a blade in the back or being held for ransom in a dungeon in Brussels. We, and they, do what we know we must.” Jacobus only nodded his head in approval; he did not need to be reminded of such things.
    The next day, March 27, 1397, the Baron sat on a small hill overlooking the Village of Vroonen and knew that in such wet terrain, his lighter unit of maneuverable horsemen could play a major role in the battle. As predicted, the Frisians had already sent vicious raiding parties into Holland and Derick received news from the elder Roulfs that the archers and footmen he wisely left to defend the homeland, had successfully resisted the enemy’s first intrusion. The message from the magistrate said there had been no need to retreat behind the Castle’s and the town’s walls. Roulfs was able to ambush and turned-back the intruders in the marshes. The news left Derick free to concentrate on the upcoming conflict.
    He knew from past battles that every enemy knight would be mounted on a Frisian charger, the finest war-horses available in Europe. Those magnificent horses would give their Frisian’ opponents a gigantic fighting edge on firm ground. The past three days of rain told him there would be little dry ground on the battlefield, but he scanned the terrain looking for the firmest soil, which is where he knew the enemy would place its mounted men. As he looked toward the farming town of Vroonen, he saw the Frisian infantry drawn up in lines in the field as if protecting the town which had no walls. He couldn’t tell how many knights were within the town because their numbers were hidden by the buildings. On the left side of the town were peat bogs, and on the right a forest of tall pine trees. Every military instinct Theodore possessed told him the majority of the mighty Frisian mounted force would be hidden within the harder ground of the wooded area, and he doubted that the always overconfident Count Albert had any idea that his army was about to be ambushed.
    The Dutch foot soldiers were sent forward in a straight line, facing their foes and following their orders to advance until they came within arrow range of the Frisians. Here they paused,