Chapter 1284: Twilight of the Imperial Legions
The next day, the Traisen River remained a bloody slaughterhouse.
Archduke Charles deployed his most elite Royal Moravian Legion, yet they barely managed to establish a foothold on the east bank of the river.
Before they could even secure a beachhead, the pontoon bridges they had just erected were destroyed by accurate French artillery fire. Immediately, a deluge of shells engulfed thousands of these soldiers.
By dusk, the docks of Sankt Pölten were clogged with countless Austrian corpses, and the city reeked of nauseating blood.
On the third day of the battle, an eerie calm settled over both banks of the Traisen River.
In the previous suicidal assaults, the Austrian casualties had already approached one-third of their force.
Verrother worked until past ten o'clock to barely piece together enough troops from the still relatively intact units to launch another offensive.
However, to Archduke Charles's surprise, the French seemed to have exhausted their ammunition during the fierce fighting of the previous two days; only a few scattered cannons continued to fire.
This glimmer of hope prompted him to immediately commit all his reserves to the battlefield.
Subsequently, Bajzáth's Corps, Bradanovacsky's Corps, and the Count of Coburg's Hussar regiment successfully crossed the damned river.
Vienna was within sight, just two days' march away.
Hope rekindled within every Austrian soldier...
On a high ground covered by dense thickets several kilometers to the east, Soult finished reading the report just delivered by a hot air balloon and handed it to Lannes, who stood beside him: "Most of the enemy have entered their expected positions. The rest is up to you."
"Yes, General," the latter responded excitedly, saluting, then turned, leaped onto his warhorse, and galloped towards the front line.
Indeed, Soult had deliberately ordered the French lines to retreat to increase efficiency.
As a series of orders were transmitted to various corps via Chappe Signal Vehicles, the entire French-Polish Coalition Army rapidly mobilized.
Murat, commanding three French cavalry regiments, spearheaded the attack from Herzogenburg downstream.
When over a thousand Cuirassiers thundered into the Austrian infantry who had just crossed the river, the latter's newly gathered morale instantly shattered.
With almost no effective resistance, four or five thousand Austrian soldiers, like rabbits chased by hounds, frantically turned and surged into Bradanovacsky's still-forming defensive line.
Archduke Charles watched this scene through his telescope from the opposite bank. His heart clenched instantly, and an ominous thought surfaced.
He vigorously shook his head and shouted to the messenger beside him: "Speed up the river crossing! Get the Hussars across first!"
Twenty minutes later, as the Count of Coburg was engaging Murat with the Austrian Hussars, Vandamme and Juchot's two corps launched a surprise attack along the riverbanks, striking the Austrian flanks.
Meanwhile, the French artillery, which had previously "exhausted its ammunition," seemed to have suddenly found its ammunition chests, unleashing a storm of intense bombardment on the Austrian forces massed on the east bank.
Lannes personally led 50,000 soldiers, rapidly advancing across a front spanning more than ten kilometers.
However, before his skirmisher swarm could even engage the enemy, most of the Austrian infantry line formations had already begun to collapse.
The Austrian pontoon bridges were already overcrowded, and cries for help from those falling into the water could be heard constantly. More Austrian soldiers were relentlessly driven back by the French skirmisher swarm, ultimately having no choice but to turn and leap into the river.
On the west bank of the Traisen River, Archduke Charles's face was ashen.
In truth, with his military acumen, he might have seen the French trap earlier, but subconsciously, he had tried to ignore that possibility, gambling on that last sliver of hope.
He turned his head with difficulty and told the messenger: "Send someone to contact Vienna... tell His Majesty to strengthen the defenses."
Just then, gunshots suddenly erupted from the southwest.
He raised his telescope and saw a troop of cavalry in red uniforms streaking like fire through his rear camp.
That was the Polish army Soult had positioned upstream on the west bank of the Traisen River in advance.
Their mission was to prevent the Austrian army from retreating towards Melk.
General Wielhorski tightly gripped his lance, bracing its butt in the leather socket above his boot. His eyes, cold as ice, fixed on the Austrian infantry ahead as he led over three thousand Winged Hussars in a charge.
He had suppressed his vengeance for far too long, all for this day.
Flashes of gunfire began to flicker along the hastily assembled Austrian defensive line ahead. Wielhorski skillfully bent low, trying to hide his body within the saddle.
But he soon frowned and looked up.
The rhythm of these Austrians' firing was clearly off, as chaotic as the cawing of crows from home.
He glanced at the soldiers beside him; hardly anyone had been hit.
A cold sneer tugged at the corner of his mouth. He waved his hand and shouted: "Quick march!"
"Lances level!"
"Charge!"
The red torrent, accompanied by the "thump-thump" sound of the cavalrymen's wings behind them, galloped past the Austrian line formations. The 2.7-meter-long lances repeatedly pierced the infantry positioned at the front.
After completing a circuit and reforming, Wielhorski saw several gaps had appeared in the Austrian defensive line.
He hadn't expected the Austrian army to be so easily shattered, and immediately led the thousand or so Winged Hussars who had just reformed towards the nearest gap.
Archduke Charles was equally stunned when he heard that his rear guard had been routed by a cavalry force in less than 40 minutes.
Verrother, standing nearby, asked the messenger: "Where did the enemy break through?"
"The Royal Third Infantry Division's sector, General."
"Damn it!" Archduke Charles angrily swung his walking stick, knocking over a nearby chair.
This corps had previously been an elite imperial unit equipped with the "Wind Rifle." However, three months after the war began, these highly anticipated advanced weapons started experiencing widespread malfunctions, with their serviceability rate never exceeding 50%.
Soldiers then discovered that although the rifle had a high rate of fire, it couldn't penetrate the French bulletproof inserts even at a distance of 20 paces.
Consequently, the Austrian General Staff had to urgently procure a batch of flintlock muskets to replace all the Wind Rifles.
This, in turn, caused soldiers who had consistently used Wind Rifles to struggle with the new weapons, leading to a significant drop in their combat effectiveness.
The Polish Winged Hussars happened to attack from the position of these re-equipped corps, resulting in the rare situation of cavalry directly breaking through infantry lines.
By the time Bogusławski led the Polish infantry to the scene, he only found enemy corpses scattered across the ground, but no Austrian defensive lines.
Of course, the Winged Hussars, who were supposed to provide him cover, had also vanished.
As confusion erupted in the Austrian rear command, large numbers of Austrian troops on the east bank of the Traisen River began to surrender.
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