I am the Crown Prince of France

Chapter 331: Breakthroughs on the Front Line

The Prussian cavalry spotted the small group of French artillerymen attempting to make a stand and sneered as they began to accelerate from about seventy to eighty paces away.

"Stay calm! Don't fire yet..." Napoleon began to shout, but one of his men, gripped by fear, pulled the trigger too early. These men were trained to operate cannons, not to engage in close-range combat. The others followed suit, and a ragged volley of shots rang out, none of which struck the advancing Prussians.

Napoleon felt a wave of bitterness, but he continued to shout encouragement to his men: "Don't be afraid! Hold your guns tight, aim your bayonets at the men, not the horses!"

The Prussian cavalry closed in to about forty paces, their horses thundering as they expertly veered to the sides of the French line, racing past the artillerymen without engaging directly. They didn't need to charge head-on; by circling around and feinting a few times, they could easily scatter the French, then hunt them down like rabbits.

Napoleon frowned and tried to order a change in formation, but with the cavalry on both sides, there was no way to cover all angles. His mind went blank—after all, he was an artillery officer, not trained for this kind of combat.

"Fight freely!" he finally yelled, drawing his sword and preparing to take on the nearest Prussian rider in close combat. But then he realized, As a Corsican, I have no reason to risk my life in this fight between the French and the Prussians! I could just surrender!

As he wrestled with these thoughts, the Prussian cavalry charged at them. Reflexively, Napoleon raised his sword to strike, but then he heard a volley of gunfire from behind the Prussian lines, followed by the sound of approaching hooves.

The Prussians were caught off guard and quickly pulled away from the seemingly harmless artillerymen, regrouping in an open space to assess the new threat.

Soon, about a hundred well-dressed cavalrymen, mounted on powerful horses, charged in, discarding their short-barreled carbines and drawing their swords.

"It's reinforcements!" The Imperial Guard artillerymen shouted in excitement.

"We're saved!"

"Ha! Now we can teach those Prussian scum a lesson!"

"Praise the Lord! He really answered my prayers!"

Napoleon, however, was puzzled. He had heard from his commanding officer that all the Imperial Guard cavalry were positioned on the eastern flank, so how had they arrived so quickly?

The Prussian cavalry, unprepared for the sudden assault, was quickly scattered and forced to retreat in disarray.

Napoleon's men cheered and urged their own cavalry to pursue and press the advantage.

But the French cavalry soon turned back. When Napoleon saw the face of the officer leading them, he was startled—it was the captain of the Prince's personal guard, whom he had met during an audience.

Why would he come to rescue me? Napoleon wondered.

Captain Cossard halted his horse near Napoleon, dismounted, and waved to him.

"Good thing we made it in time. Are you all right?"

Napoleon, realizing the question was directed at him, quickly saluted, "Ah, I'm fine! Thank you so much. But… shouldn't you be with the Prince?"

Cossard, still catching his breath, replied, "It's because of your artillery company. The Prince was worried that being so far from the main force, you might be in danger, so he sent me to reinforce you."

In truth, Cossard hadn't wanted to leave the Prince's side, but the Prince had insisted, saying that if Cossard didn't go, he would personally ride out to save Captain Buonaparte. Left with no choice, Cossard had led the guard to the rescue.

As the artillerymen around them shouted, "Long live the Prince!" Napoleon gave Cossard a serious salute and said, "Thank you to the Prince—he saved our lives."

"You can thank him yourself," Cossard said, nodding toward the French lines. "Now, let's get you back."

...

When Blücher noticed the glaring gap in his infantry line, a cold sweat broke out on his forehead. The main forces of both armies were nearly engaged, and if the French attacked there, his right flank would be gone.

He hurriedly ordered four squadrons of dragoons to plug the gap. Despite their grand name, dragoons were essentially mounted infantry. They could quickly reach a location on horseback, then dismount and form a line. In emergencies, they could also be used to patch up holes in the line.

But just as they reached the vicinity of their infantry line, Blücher's worst fears were realized.

The French assault columns smashed into the line, aiming directly for the gap!

Reforming an infantry line was a laborious task. While any child could stand in formation, aligning a miles-long straight line required many officers constantly coordinating the effort, and it took a considerable amount of time.

The Prussian infantry, evidently, lacked the discipline to quickly close the gap.

The five French companies, advancing with little resistance—since the Prussian soldiers who should have been in their way had veered towards the edge of the battlefield—didn't even need to change formation. They simply drove straight into the Prussian line.

The Prussian soldiers fell into chaos.

Most continued advancing as if still in the battle plan, while those near the gap panicked and turned their guns on the flanking French soldiers, turning the once-straight line into a slanted mess.

Minutes later, the drumbeats of the Imperial Guard were audible just fifty paces away.

A volley of fire from thousands of percussion rifles cut down seventy or eighty Prussians. When the disordered Prussians finally managed to return fire, fewer than a third of them participated—the others were either fighting the French assault or too far out of range.

The Imperial Guard soldiers quickly reloaded, advanced ten paces, and unleashed a second volley.

From a distance, Berthier could see the enemy's right flank crumbling, with the protruding left flank being pushed back by the Imperial Guard. He immediately ordered the entire army to charge in with bayonets.

Short, sharp signals echoed through the air, and the drummers instantly changed to the fastest drumbeat.

Under the officers' commands, the Imperial Guard soldiers raised their rifles to waist height, bayonets thrust forward.

Minutes later, the long line of infantry, shouting battle cries, charged at the Prussians, who, already in disarray from the earlier volleys, had no intention of engaging and fled with their officers leading the way.

The Imperial Guard surged past the Prussian infantry line, leaving behind a field of corpses and trembling prisoners.

Before Blücher's order for the second line to prepare for the enemy had even been fully communicated, the French columns that had first breached the gap pressed forward without pause, reaching the Prussian second line and rapidly fanning out into a line formation.

Then they fired a volley at the bewildered Prussian soldiers.

Though the French force numbered only 500, the Prussian soldiers, hearing the thunderous battle cries ahead and catching snippets of officers saying the line had been breached, assumed the French main force was upon them.

Panic amplified the actual casualties, and as the 500 Imperial Guard soldiers unleashed a second volley, the right flank of the Prussian line collapsed, despite suffering relatively few losses.

(End of Chapter)

Friends, if you want to read chapters in advance, subscribe to my patreon.

Read 20 Chapters In Advance: patreon.com/johanssen10