Chapter 846: The Story of Another Genius
The Duke of York stood frozen on the spot.
Count Clerfayt commanded over 14,000 Austrian troops. If he withdrew, the French forces in the vicinity would outnumber his own.
To make matters worse, the British morale was at an all-time low after their repeated failed assaults. Their formations were currently in disarray; if the Walloons launched an attack now, the situation would be catastrophic...
He didn't dare follow that line of thought any further. He turned to his herald and roared, "Catch up to the Austrians! Order them to return immediately, or I will certainly file a formal complaint against them with the Holy Roman Emperor!"
"Damn it! Have these cowards never learned the meaning of the word 'shame'?!"
An hour and a half later, the captain who had been sent to deliver the message returned. He lowered his head and addressed the Duke of York. "Your Highness, Count Clerfayt has refused your command. He said..."
"Said what?!"
"He said that Cologne is more important than anyone—including your life. He stated that he cannot continue to waste time here because of our army's stu... cough, because of our army's errors."
The Duke of York's face instantly turned darker than a lump of coal.
A moment later, a cavalryman galloped up to report, "Your Highness, the French have launched an attack on our left wing. There are roughly 4,000 of them."
Had it been any other experienced commander, seeing Clerfayt's corps suddenly withdraw might have caused them to hesitate, fearing it was a Coalition trap.
But Gaillard, coming from a background in the Walloon Police, didn't overthink it. He immediately ordered his troops to charge through the opening...
On the west bank of the Our River.
Blücher frowned and turned his head, watching as large groups of soldiers hurried past him in a state of panic. The surrounding officers weren't even attempting to maintain formations anymore, simply shouting at the men to pick up the pace.
Just as he was about to reprimand those officers, his chief of staff came running over. The man didn't even stop to salute, his voice frantic. "General, the Duke of Brunswick's forces have been surrounded by Masséna west of Rothausen."
Blücher reacted as if he had been stung by a scorpion. He stood up in his stirrups and waved frantically at a nearby herald. "Assemble the men! Quickly! Get these fools into formation and turn south immediately! We must reinforce the Duke!"
He commanded the left wing of the Coalition forces, a body of over 23,000 men. Because they had been the furthest from the initial battlefield, they had been the fastest to retreat and had successfully avoided the French pursuit for the past few days.
"Yes, General!"
As the herald turned to leave, Scharnhorst spurred his horse forward to block him. He then turned back to Blücher's side and whispered, "General, do you believe that even if we reached Rothausen immediately, we would have any certainty of defeating the French?"
"Of course! I'll send every single one of those damned Frenchmen straight to hell..." Blücher's roar died in his throat as he caught the cold, analytical look in his staff officer's eyes. His bravado withered. "If we can exploit an enemy mistake, perhaps there is still a chance."
Scharnhorst said in a heavy tone, "General, even if you broke through the French encirclement and rescued the Duke, what then?"
"We would still be blocked by the Our River."
"And even if we crossed the Our River, what then?"
"Koblenz and Mainz have already fallen. Both we and the Duke would be trapped and slaughtered on the west bank of the Rhine!"
Blücher gripped his riding crop so hard the veins on the back of his hand bulged, but he couldn't find a single word to refute him.
Seeing this, Scharnhorst continued, "Our only chance is to head for Cologne immediately."
"That is also the only way to hold a retreat route back to the east bank of the Rhine for the Duke."
Blücher knew he was right, but he still shook his head. "No, we cannot just stand by and watch the theater commander-in-chief be surrounded!"
Scharnhorst sighed inwardly and asked, "General, did the Duke order you to reinforce him?"
"No."
The Duke of Brunswick was surrounded by Masséna's main force; it was impossible for his heralds to break through the encirclement to deliver orders.
"But..."
Blücher was about to argue further when his staff officer interrupted him. "Since the Duke sent no one, his intention is clearly for you to find a way to escape on your own."
As he spoke, a cavalry captain arrived at a gallop and reported to Blücher, "General, French traces have been spotted to the west, about 350 meters away."
Scharnhorst said urgently, "General, I will stay behind to hold off the French. You must lead the main force across the river as quickly as possible. If you hesitate any longer, it will be too late!"
Blücher finally stopped struggling. He patted his staff officer firmly on the shoulder and turned to gather his officers to prepare for the crossing.
At half-past four in the afternoon.
Scharnhorst could already see the French banners through his telescope. He let out a heavy sigh.
He came from a humble background. Despite his incredible military talent, he had only managed to reach the rank of Major, and even that was an exceptional promotion for having saved the Duke of Brunswick in the Southern Netherlands.
However, his military career, which had only just begun to flourish, seemed destined to end today.
He knew all too well that with only the three or four thousand men Blücher had left him, there was no chance of escaping alive from a rearguard action.
He was preparing to inspect the defensive line one last time when he saw Blücher's herald galloping toward him, waving his hands and shouting excitedly, "Major Scharnhorst! Retreat! There's no need for a rearguard!"
"Retreat? Why?"
"The Our River is frozen!"
Half an hour before dark, Scharnhorst led the rearguard to the banks of the Our River.
There, he saw cannons, wagons, and even many horses abandoned everywhere.
He understood instantly. The ice on the river was thin; it couldn't support heavy loads.
By the time he crossed the river, night had fallen.
At dawn the next day, Blücher gathered his troops and was about to head toward Cologne when a scouting cavalryman brought a second lieutenant in a British uniform before him.
The Briton handed over a letter from the Duke of York and said in broken German, "General, Prince Frederick is pinned down by the French at Düren. He requests that you reinforce him immediately."
"We were just about to head for Cologne," Blücher said. "Go tell the Duke of York that we will arrive shortly."
Once the British messenger had left, Scharnhorst immediately turned to him. "General, we cannot go to Cologne."
"What? Give me your reason."
"Since the French have appeared near Düren, more enemies will arrive there soon. We run the risk of being bogged down as well."
"Then what should we do?" Blücher nearly snapped the crop in his hand, his teeth clenched. "Should we go back and reunite with the Duke of Brunswick?!"
"No, no," Scharnhorst interjected quickly. "We should turn east immediately."
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