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Chapter 811: The Final Three Hours

Among the French cavalry, those few who understood German heard the battalion commander's cry and immediately joined him, shouting at the top of their lungs.

Grouchy had only intended to bolster his own morale, but he never expected his shout to produce such an extraordinary effect.

The truth was that the Austrian army had been utterly traumatized by Napoleon in their previous encounters.

In particular, nearly half of the soldiers on the Austrian left wing were veterans who had participated in the Siege of Toulon. They vividly remembered how every time the French suddenly appeared out of nowhere, their own lines would rapidly disintegrate into a rout.

Thus, these "Toulon veterans" were the first to turn and flee.

The soldiers Melas had brought from Switzerland, seeing this, were convinced they were being ambushed by a massive French force and immediately joined the flight.

Just like that, over seven thousand Austrian soldiers were chased into a chaotic retreat by a mere thousand French Hussars. The entire Austrian left wing began to collapse.

Augereau reacted with lightning speed, immediately concentrating all his forces toward the north, which only further accelerated the collapse of the Austrian wing.

Melas's center, seeing the French suddenly pull back, surged excitedly into the town of San Giuliano and sent word of victory to Melas in the rear.

With these two pieces of information combined, he could only reach one conclusion: San Giuliano had been intentionally abandoned by the French.

Their goal was to scatter his forces so they could launch a decisive strike from the north.

In a panic, he ordered Cervoni to lead the entire reserve to establish a defensive line northeast of Marengo and commanded the center and right-wing units to immediately contract their positions to prevent being isolated and annihilated.

By one o'clock in the afternoon, after Melas had arranged his formations and prepared for a decisive battle against the French main force, his scouts—having performed repeated reconnaissance—finally confirmed that the only French forces in the vicinity were the original six thousand men and the thousand-odd cavalry reinforcements.

He was instantly consumed by rage and ordered a renewed offensive against San Giuliano.

However, after all this frantic maneuvering, the Austrian soldiers were exhausted. They dragged their feet until past three o'clock before finally reaching Augereau's defensive line once again.

Augereau and Marmont looked at the dense masses of Austrian soldiers in the distance, both feeling a profound sense of helplessness wash over them.

After a full morning of combat, their units had suffered heavy casualties. They were left with only five thousand combat-effective soldiers, all of whom were suffering from low morale.

Grouchy's cavalry was still full of fighting spirit, but against an Austrian army of over fifty thousand, they had no hope of victory in a direct confrontation.

It was almost certain that the moment the enemy launched a heavy assault, their side would collapse instantly.

Augereau wearily pulled himself into the saddle and rode before his men, shouting with every ounce of strength he had left, "There are at most three and a half hours until nightfall! The darkness will force the Austrians to retreat!"

"These three hours will decide the future of all Northern Italy!"

"I will remain right here, at the point closest to the enemy, to witness the future alongside you!"

"Listen to me—no one is going to defeat us!"

The hollow-eyed French soldiers straightened their backs one by one, responding to his call. "Right, just three more hours!"

"We won't be defeated!"

"Hold on..."

In the distance, the Austrian bugles signaled the attack.

Soon, the infantry lines of the Argenteau Legion, numbering over fifteen thousand, appeared less than 400 meters away. Under the cover of artillery, they rapidly closed in on the French line.

Augereau stayed true to his word, standing firm at the very front of his soldiers, enduring the enemy's cannon fire.

Inspired by his bravery and supported by Grouchy's cavalry, his five thousand soldiers fought desperately to repel Argenteau's first wave of attack.

But on their flanks, over twenty thousand enemy troops were moving to complete an encirclement.

Two and a half hours until dark...

Augereau looked toward the enemy attacking from the north. Despite his stubborn pride, he knew his soldiers had long since passed their limits. He could hold on no longer.

Just as the thought of giving up flickered in his mind, a sudden roar of cannon fire erupted from far to the north.

Augereau froze. The distance of those shots was definitely beyond the range of his own defensive lines.

There was only one possibility: someone was attacking the Austrian flank.

Reinforcements had arrived!

Sure enough, the Austrian advance began to slow. The Argenteau Legion started to pivot toward the north, leaving only a small force to remain in a standoff with Augereau.

Ten minutes later, one of Grouchy's riders brought the long-awaited news: "It's Colonel Bonaparte! Our main force has arrived!"

Augereau's soldiers immediately erupted into cheers, and their ragged formations quickly tightened and regained their discipline.

On the other side, Melas had fallen into a state of deep anxiety.

Argenteau had just reported that at least twenty thousand French troops had suddenly appeared from the northwest.

Fortunately, Argenteau had reacted quickly, adjusting his formation in time to prevent his flank from being shattered.

Melas gripped his cane tightly, turning to Cervoni. "Take the reserves and reinforce the north immediately."

"Yes, General."

Melas then looked to his messenger. "Order the Argenteau Legion to attack the French main force's left flank from Castelceriolo."

"The Colli Legion is to strike the enemy's right along the Bormida River."

"The Royal Moravian Cavalry Battalion will coordinate with General Cervoni for a forceful assault. We must crush the enemy before night falls!"

He was committing every last man to the fray.

He didn't know how many more French reinforcements were following behind, so he had to repel the enemy in front of him as quickly as possible and continue the march toward Lodi.

North of Marengo.

Napoleon felt a wave of relief when the cavalry reported that San Giuliano was still in Augereau's hands.

On the way there, he had been plagued by self-reproach.

It was his misjudgment of Melas's movements that had led him to move the army to the north bank of the Tanaro River, creating the opening the enemy had exploited.

Fortunately, Augereau had held on for a day and a half, preventing Melas from heading east. Otherwise, the French strategic position would have become catastrophic—he would have been forced into a siege of Lodi after Melas occupied it. By the time the Wurmser Legion reached Northern Italy, the Austrians would have held a massive numerical advantage, making any future battles increasingly difficult.

As Napoleon's mind raced, Joubert's messenger arrived in a hurry, shouting to him, "Commander, over twenty thousand enemies are preparing a frontal assault! The Colonel needs you to send reinforcements."

Joubert's legion was responsible for the center of the battlefield, but he had fewer than eight thousand soldiers.

Just as Napoleon was about to dispatch the Moulins Legion, two more riders galloped up in succession to report.

"Commander, at least ten thousand enemy troops have appeared from the direction of Castelceriolo!"

"Commander, the enemy's Colli Legion is flanking our right with nearly fifteen thousand men!"

Napoleon frowned. A total of forty-five thousand Austrians were launching a massive assault—this was practically Melas's entire army.