Chapter 812: Frontal Confrontation
Napoleon had only twenty thousand soldiers at his disposal.
Among them, nearly three thousand were raw recruits who had been in the service for less than two months.
A grim expression clouded his face. If they were on a broad, open battlefield, he could have relied on his precise judgment of the situation to build an advantage through various tactical maneuvers, much as he had done at Toulon.
But now, due to his previous miscalculation, he was forced into a brutal, head-on confrontation with the Austrian army.
For the French army, already at a numerical disadvantage, this was undoubtedly a perilous situation.
Napoleon crossed his arms over his chest, taking deep breaths as his mind raced through possibilities.
'No, there must be a way to defeat them.'
'I must play to my strengths...'
'What advantages do I still have?'
This elite force, second only to his direct command legion, was highly trained and equipped with the latest percussion cap muskets.
If the Moulins Legion could rapidly crush the enemy center and directly threaten Melas's command post, it would throw the entire Austrian leadership into chaos.
Then, he could turn back to deal with the enemies on the flanks.
A complete operational plan quickly materialized in Napoleon's mind. He turned to Lucien and commanded, "Order Major Junot to lead the Second Toulouse Infantry Regiment and a skirmisher battalion to handle the defense of the left flank."
"Lieutenant Colonel Sérurier will command the Third Infantry Regiment to defend the right."
"They must ensure that not a single enemy soldier crosses their lines before nightfall!"
He assigned two thousand soldiers to Junot and fifteen hundred to Sérurier, yet they were facing ten thousand and fifteen thousand enemy troops, respectively. Although they only needed to hold for two and a half hours, it remained a task of hellish difficulty.
Napoleon pointed to the map and continued, "The Joubert Legion and the Moulins Legion, along with all the artillery and hussars, are to concentrate in the center immediately."
"The infantry lines will be deployed along here and here, using a four-rank formation..."
"Set the artillery positions here. This slope overlooks the entire battlefield..."
"In forty minutes, we launch the general offensive."
At 4:20 PM.
Cervoni watched through his telescope as his troops pushed the French back, a rare look of ease crossing his face.
Ever since he arrived in Italy, he had been plagued by French ambushes and raids, leaving him incredibly frustrated. Today, he finally had the chance to face them in a proper, frontal battle.
He turned to his staff officer with a boastful air.
"It turns out the French are only good at underhanded tricks. If we fight like knights, those cowards are no match for us..."
Before the staff officer could agree, the dense thunder of heavy artillery suddenly erupted from the front.
Cervoni frowned and raised his telescope again. He quickly saw a gap being torn into the left side of his infantry line by cannonballs.
The intensity of the French fire was staggering.
He turned to his aide. "Have the cavalry find the French artillery positions. They must have concentrated every gun they own..."
However, an officer rushed up to report, "General, over ten thousand French troops have appeared on our left. It looks like they are launching a counterattack."
Cervoni chuckled. "The French have finally found some courage. Who is the opposing commander?"
"It seems to be that Colonel Bonaparte."
"The one who raided Milan?"
"The very same, General."
"Good. I've been waiting for him for a long time." Cervoni nodded and addressed the messenger. "Order the entire army to halt its advance. The three infantry regiments on the right are to close toward the center."
"Have Jonas and Drayton's regiments form a second line of defense on the left."
"The cavalry must destroy the French artillery positions at any cost."
Despite his talk of "fighting like knights," Cervoni was extremely cautious in his deployment. He intended to rely on his superior numbers to maintain a dense defense, waiting for Argentau and Colli to envelop the flanks. That way, he could annihilate Napoleon with minimal casualties.
Soon, the French skirmishers harassing the front noticed the Austrian advance had stopped. The lines that had been disrupted by the artillery fire were quickly reinforced with fresh soldiers.
However, Colonel Bonaparte's orders were clear: they had to keep harassing the enemy until the infantry columns moved up.
Two battalions of skirmishers braved the volleys of the Austrian infantry lines, using the terrain for cover as they maintained a steady fire on the enemy.
While they didn't inflict massive casualties, they effectively drew the enemy's attention.
After suffering over three hundred casualties, more than twenty columns of the Moulins Legion marched toward the Austrian lines, their pace set by a rapid, rhythmic drumbeat.
The Austrian soldiers were still busy trying to aim at the French skirmishers popping up like gophers when the Moulins columns reached a point about sixty or seventy paces away and rapidly deployed into horizontal lines.
The Austrian officers frantically shouted for their men to change targets, but the Moulins Legion unleashed their volley first.
Superb marksmanship combined with the power of the percussion cap muskets sent a mist of blood rising from the Austrian ranks. Hundreds of men groaned and collapsed instantly.
The Moulins Legion reloaded on the spot, then advanced another ten paces before raising their rifles to fire again.
After just three volleys, the ten thousand Austrian soldiers began to fall into chaos, pressured by four thousand men of the Moulins Legion and fewer than eight hundred skirmishers.
At the same time, the French infantry lines further back took the opportunity to close within a hundred paces, filling the gaps between the Moulins horizontal formations.
Finally, the French front line was fully linked. Over nine thousand soldiers, organized into three lines, launched continuous volleys against Cervoni's legion with the support of the skirmishers.
The three Austrian regiments from the right finally arrived, attacking the French infantry lines from the front right.
The Moulins Legion reacted with lightning speed, detaching a thousand men to pivot left and engage the new threat in a fire exchange.
Though outnumbered, the combat quality of the Moulins Legion was clearly a level above the Austrians. The five thousand elite troops, leading the five thousand men of the Toulouse Legion, consistently suppressed the fourteen thousand Austrians.
However, Cervoni also commanded brilliantly. Using his numerical advantage, he constantly adjusted his formations to attack the weaker Toulouse Legion, forcing the Moulins Legion to frequently divert their attention to plug the gaps.
The two sides exchanged fire for a grueling twenty minutes, both suffering heavy losses.
Within a two-kilometer radius, the air was thick with the heavy scent of iron and blood. The ground was littered with corpses and severed limbs, as if hell itself had been transplanted to the spot.
Finally, following another volley from the Moulins Legion, the left side of the Austrian line began to crumble.
Before long, the rout spread through the entirety of Cervoni's legion. The plains north of Marengo were filled with Austrian soldiers fleeing in terror and agony.
Napoleon, seeing this through his telescope, allowed a satisfied smile to touch his lips. He immediately ordered an attack on Melas's command post south of the village.
However, as the Moulins Legion reached the outskirts of Marengo, they found a fresh, orderly infantry line waiting for them.
There were at least five or six thousand men.
Although the French still had nearly nine thousand men, the soldiers were physically exhausted after the fierce battle, and their formations had become disorganized due to the casualties.
Facing a well-prepared enemy, they immediately began to show signs of fatigue.
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