Chapter 1255: Heading to Berlin
Chapter 1255: Heading to Berlin
Marshal Möllendorf yelled with all his might at his attendant, "My horse! Bring me my horse!"
A moment later, he breathlessly climbed onto his horse, gripping the reins tightly, and hurried towards William III's tent.
But he was too old and dared not let the horse run, fearing he might fall at any moment.
He anxiously waved to an officer beside him, "General Schmettau, quickly go and protect His Majesty as he evacuates!"
"Yes, Marshal!"
It took Möllendorf over ten minutes to finally reach the opulent tent used by William III, only to find Major General Schmettau standing nearby, lost in thought.
He frowned, urged his horse forward, and demanded loudly, "What are you doing? Where is His Majesty?"
Schmettau turned, shaking his head. "His Majesty... isn't here."
"No need," Schmettau said, raising a hand to stop the guard. He then pointed to several royal guards nearby. "His Majesty has already left."
"Left?" Möllendorf looked at the royal guards in surprise. "Where did His Majesty go?"
One of them, head lowered, said, "His Majesty... heard that a breach had appeared in the defensive line and returned to Naumburg. We were ordered to pack up his furnishings here..."
Möllendorf's eyes were filled with shock, but he quickly nodded with a bitter smile. "Very well. His Majesty's safety is paramount. This is very good."
He turned to his orderly. "Immediately bring over the Hussar battalion to fend off the enemy cavalry..."
He then sighed again, as if commanding the battle for most of the day had drained him of all strength, and slowly sat down on the carpet in front of the tent. "Send a message to Naumburg, and have them send an escort for His Majesty."
When Murat hastily arrived at the location previously reported by the hot air balloon, he found only an expanse of empty tents.
He frowned, dispatched dozens of Hussars to search the area, then pursued along the direction with the densest horse tracks.
The news of the King's escape quickly spread among the Prussian soldiers.
God knows, Möllendorf had repeatedly issued strict orders to his subordinates not to leak the news, but some front-line officers, seeing French cavalry cross the defensive line, sent men to protect the King, only to find the abandoned tents.
As high as the Prussian army's morale had been, it now collapsed just as swiftly.
So much so that when they began to scatter and flee, Augereau still thought it was an enemy ploy, sending men to scout repeatedly, and only after confirming there was no ambush did he order the pursuit.
At 5 PM, Augereau stood on the bell tower of the Weimar church, gazing out over the northern plains, and said to Masson beside him, "Let everyone rest well for a day. We'll be on the march for a week straight after this, and probably won't have time to rest until we reach Berlin.
"Oh, have we sent someone to report to General Staff Headquarters?"
"Yes, General, the liaison officer departed as soon as the battle ended."
"Many have fallen today. They were all France's finest warriors."
"Yes, General."
"But we achieved victory."
"A great victory, General."
The next morning.
Murat, leading several hundred Hussars, arrived in the distant suburbs of Naumburg. Just as he was about to give up, he suddenly spotted a row of farmhouses in the distance.
He signaled to the Captain beside him, "Exelmans, send someone to ask around."
A short while later, the latter returned with a few Hussars and said to Murat, "Major, they said a troop of cavalry passed through here half an hour ago, heading towards Naumburg."
Murat was overjoyed and waved to his soldiers. "Let's pursue them!"
He asked Exelmans, "They wouldn't lie, would they?"
"No," the latter chuckled. "Those farmers thought we were Prussian cavalry."
"I should thank them."
Well, in this era, military uniforms varied widely between nations, making it impossible for common people to distinguish them.
Murat had the 200 best-mounted soldiers gallop along with him, and finally, about three or four kilometers from Naumburg, he spotted the bearskin hats worn by the cavalry troop ahead.
He immediately drew his saber, squeezed his horse's flanks hard with his legs, and called out, "Prepare for battle!"
William III's head drooped wearily, his body swaying with the horse's steps, while his mind calculated when Coalition reinforcements might reach Potsdam.
An attendant beside him suddenly gasped loudly, "It's the French!"
The King of Prussia jolted, looked back, and indeed saw a line of white figures.
"Dräger, protect His Majesty," an officer urgently commanded. "The rest of you, follow me to block the enemy!"
William III quickly roused himself and furiously whipped his mount.
He didn't know how far he had ridden when bursts of gunfire erupted behind him, but soon fell silent again.
He had never realized silence could be so despair-inducing.
The sound of hooves grew closer. Though his mount was also a fine horse, his horsemanship was far inferior to that of the elite French Hussars.
William III nearly broke his whip from frantic lashing, yet those white devils drew ever closer.
Dräger drew his sword and let out a shout, but as he turned, a bullet pierced his cheek.
"Halt!" a shout came from behind. "We will grant you the dignity befitting a monarch."
William III sighed, already preparing to rein in his horse.
Just then, a troop of soldiers in gray-green uniforms emerged from the woods ahead. He was instantly overjoyed and waved vigorously at them, "I'm here!"
Murat, who was leading the pursuit, frowned as he looked at the soldiers. 'They must be Naumburg's garrison,' he thought.
He raised his pistol and aimed at William III's back. "Stop at once, or I will fire!"
The King ignored him completely and instead whipped his horse even faster.
"Bang!"
The distance was a bit far, and he clearly missed.
"Bang, bang!"
Murat fired off all his remaining pistol rounds and saw the King of Prussia's body suddenly lurch. His eyes widened in excitement, but the damned horse kept galloping.
The Prussians ahead had already started raising their muskets and firing this way. Murat reluctantly reined in his horse, signaled his soldiers to halt the pursuit, then took his telescope from his backpack.
He carefully scanned William III's body, searching for that 'lovely' bullet hole.
Until he saw the King's right hand consistently remaining pressed against his thigh, he finally shook his head in disappointment.
...
30 kilometers east of Kassel.
The Duke of Brunswick anxiously urged his soldiers to speed up. The French had been out of sight for a day and a half, and if this continued, he might completely lose track of them.
Several cavalrymen suddenly rode towards him. He immediately breathed a sigh of relief. 'It seems they've found the enemy,' he thought.
However, the cavalry lieutenant's hoarse voice made his face darken. "Marshal, our vanguard has been attacked by the enemy!"
Comments