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Chapter 329: The Young Napoleon's First Foray

Blücher immediately tugged on his reins, his eyes wide as he turned and asked, "Are you certain those aren't cavalry sent to harass us?"

"Definitely not harassment, General," the two Hussars exchanged glances. "We saw cannons, and at least three or four regiments of troops."

Blücher felt a buzzing in his head. 'Did these Frenchmen grow wings?' he wondered. He had ordered his soldiers to abandon much of their baggage train to speed up, yet just as they finished breaking camp, the French were already upon them!

'Hmm,' he mused, unaware that the Guards Corps had almost no baggage train apart from cannonballs and gunpowder. Even the Crown Prince hadn't brought a bed, let alone the other officers.

An hour earlier, Joseph had routed the Dutch forces, leaving only one regiment to clear the battlefield and two companies to tend to the wounded. The other soldiers, without even pausing for rest, immediately pressed on towards the Prussian main force.

Soon, more Hussars arrived, reporting the French army's approach. Blücher, left with no choice, ordered his entire army to form up on the spot, preparing to face the enemy.

The Prussian army, having just begun its march, immediately halted and started to organize. Baggage wagons hastily rushed to the rear. In an instant, nearly ten thousand troops were tangled together in disarray.

Just as Blücher had barely managed to set up three lines of infantry, French cavalry appeared less than one kilometer away, with the infantry following closely.

"Are the artillery positions ready?" Blücher asked the nearby General Staff officer, his face grim.

"Tell them to hurry!" Blücher urged. For some reason, this French army always made him feel uneasy. Only the sight of his cannons would offer him some reassurance.

"Yes, General!"

After a series of reconnaissance and probing maneuvers by both Prussian and French forces, the Guards Corps' infantry lines had advanced to within 500 paces of the Prussians.

It was only then that Blücher finally received the detailed count of the French forces: 11,000 men.

He frowned, silently thinking, 'If the Altmann Corps and Diterlind Corps can return in time, we can still encircle the French!'

...

"Put more effort into it!" the commander of the Guards Corps Artillery Battalion shouted, pointing to the mound ahead, to the soldiers helping the horses drag the cannons. "The Prussians have spread their forces. As soon as we start firing, they'll collapse quickly!"

Nearly a thousand artillerists immediately let out excited shouts: "Crush the Prussians!" "Victory's glory belongs to us!" "Let those bumpkins taste our power! Long live the artillery!"

They had truly redeemed themselves in today's battle.

In previous wars, artillery had always been secondary to infantry. Military textbooks even stated that no matter how great the artillery's achievements, it would ultimately be up to the infantry to finish the battle.

But today, against the Southern Netherlanders, the horse artillery had almost single-handedly shattered the enemy's defenses with their elusive, close-range bombardments.

The infantry had merely gone in to clean up the remnants.

Had it not been for the sheer number of Blücher's cavalry and the Guards Corps horse artillery's horses being too exhausted, they would have truly loved to recreate that scene against Blücher himself.

Just as the foremost cannons were about to be dragged up the mound, a lean captain with a prominent nose in the detachment surveyed the surrounding terrain, periodically using his telescope to observe the Prussian deployment.

Suddenly, he lowered his telescope, quickly approached the Artillery Battalion Commander, and saluted, "Major, I believe this mound is not the most suitable artillery position."

Major Lacoste frowned, recalling that the Crown Prince seemed to hold this young officer in high regard, and patiently explained, "This is the General Staff's deployment, Captain Bonaparte."

He gestured towards the faintly visible Prussian formation to the west: "From here, we can directly bombard the enemy infantry lines, and there's no open ground around that would facilitate cavalry maneuvers, making it an excellent firing position."

Napoleon pressed his lips together, gathered his courage, and pointed to a gentle slope further to the west: "Sir, I believe... that is the ideal artillery position."

Major Lacoste paused, then raised his telescope and looked towards the spot Napoleon indicated, a smile suddenly gracing his lips. "Captain, that position is indeed closer to the enemy, and the flanking angle is good. But you probably didn't notice that slightly to the left, between that position and the Prussian army, there's a cluster of trees.

"If the Prussian infantry move slightly in that direction when under bombardment, we'll lose sight of them."

"Exactly!" Napoleon nodded emphatically. "That is precisely its advantage."

"Huh?" Lacoste blinked in surprise.

Napoleon took a breath and explained, "The fiercer our bombardment, the more the enemy will want to move towards that cluster of trees. But the enemy troops further away won't be able to get there. This could very well tear apart their Line Formation."

On a real battlefield, two armies typically clashed over a very wide area, with infantry lines often stretching for several kilometers.

Therefore, soldiers in the Line Formation couldn't see what their slightly more distant comrades were doing or where they were.

Even officers, if communications were poor, would lose track of their own situation.

Lacoste looked again at the artillery position Napoleon had suggested, and suddenly felt that the situation he described was very likely to occur.

After a brief thought, he nodded and instructed a courier to report his intention to detach some cannons to the new position to the General Staff, then ordered Napoleon's artillery company to change direction.

Ten minutes later, the roar of cannons signaled the start of the decisive battle—the Guards Corps' cannons.

The shells from 15 Six-Pounder Cannons flew with a heart-stopping whistle over the first Prussian infantry line, gouging out more than a dozen furrows in the lush green grass.

Blücher was startled once more. 'Why were the French, after rushing such a long distance, able to open fire first?' he wondered.

He frowned and ordered five cavalry squadrons and a battalion of Skirmishers to attack the French artillery, while again urging his own artillerists to retaliate quickly.

Meanwhile, Napoleon commanded his company's five Six-Pounder Cannons, quietly hidden in a large expanse of tall grass, waiting for the opportune moment.

As an experienced commander, Blücher displayed extreme caution in large-scale operations, using his expertise to thwart the Guards Corps' repeated attempts to draw them out and harass them.

The opposing infantry lines of the Prussian and French armies inevitably drew closer. Amidst the dense drum rolls and the officers' shouted commands, it was clear that both sides were about to determine superiority through training and morale.

Just then, less than 400 paces from the Prussian right flank, flashes of fire erupted, and five Six-Pounder Cannon shells accurately tore into the Prussian Line Formation.

The Prussian infantry, caught by surprise, immediately erupted in cries of agony.

Napoleon saw the hits through his telescope, a faint smile touching his lips. 'His trajectory calculations had always been top-notch in military school; a direct hit at this range without ranging shots was no challenge for him.'