Chapter 860: The Team Disbands
To people of the twenty-first century, the behavior of the Austrian soldiers would have seemed undeniably foolish, but in the era of line infantry and musket volleys, it was perfectly normal.
With the abysmal accuracy of flintlock muskets, it took hundreds of shots just for a single bullet to potentially pass through the narrow gap of an embrasure and hit them.
Consequently, the soldiers had grown accustomed to standing tall and exposed when facing the enemy.
"Maybe they're Jägers!" a soldier shouted, sounding the alarm.
As the men of the Zimmerman Company moved to duck and take cover, someone immediately countered, "That can't be right. I didn't see any hammers."
In this era, loading a Jäger rifle—a rifled musket—was notoriously difficult. One had to use a hammer to force the bullet down the barrel.
The sergeant beside him also shook his head. "A Jäger couldn't possibly fire that fast."
Not twenty seconds after their captain had been hit, a second volley of bullets whistled toward them. Normally, loading a Jäger rifle took at least forty seconds.
As the sergeant spoke, he leaned against the embrasure, trying to steal a glance at the situation below to see what was happening.
An Austrian second lieutenant from a nearby battery came running over, crouched low. He waved his arms frantically, shouting, "Get down! Everyone, get down!"
He was a moment too late. Five more soldiers were struck by bullets fired from beneath the fortress.
In just three or four minutes, the Zimmerman Company had already lost thirty-six men.
"Didn't your commander tell you the new regulations?" the lieutenant barked. "Stay away from the embrasures! Don't stand in the open! Stay crouched!"
The soldiers looked toward the blood-soaked body of their captain lying nearby.
"The captain didn't mention anything..." someone yelled. "But why? Why do we have to hide like this?"
"The French have a new rifle!" the lieutenant replied. "They can pick us off with pinpoint accuracy from over a hundred meters away!"
"Is... is that true?"
"You fool! Of course it's true!" the lieutenant snapped. "Why do you think the artillery casualty rate is so high?!"
Since the second day of the French siege of Cologne, the artillerymen on the ramparts—especially those on the outermost lines—had been suffering over two hundred casualties every single day.
Under normal circumstances, an entire campaign might not claim that many artillerymen unless they were overrun by a cavalry charge. But this time, the French riflemen would sprint close to the fortress walls, exploiting the cannons' blind spots to snipe the gunners with their new Auguste Model 1790 Rifled Muskets.
Because these new weapons utilized percussion caps, their effective range was significantly greater than that of standard Jäger rifles, making it nearly impossible for the Austrians to mount an effective counter-defense.
During the first few days, the frustrated Austrians had sent large infantry detachments out of the fortress to drive the French riflemen away.
However, the French artillery was always positioned right behind their skirmishers.
The moment the Austrian infantry showed their heads, they were greeted by blasts of grapeshot from the French cannons.
After several such failed attempts resulting in heavy losses, the Austrian command was forced to issue a temporary order: gunners were to remain crouched as much as possible to avoid the enemy sharpshooters.
Consequently, the efficiency of the Austrian cannons dropped to a pathetic level.
To make matters worse, the French had more artillery than the defenders of Cologne. Masséna had consolidated the Royal Artillery Battalion along with all the cannons captured in previous battles—over two hundred pieces in total—around the city. It had effectively turned into a one-sided bombardment.
Only twelve days into the siege, one of the four main fortresses protecting Cologne had already fallen, and the second was on the verge of collapse.
These fortress complexes were designed to support one another; once a single stronghold was breached, fire-control blind spots would emerge, drastically simplifying the assault on the remaining positions.
The soldiers of the Zimmerman Company grew pale. Thinking back to how they had been peering over the battlements earlier, they realized they had been flirting with death.
It finally dawned on them why an infantry company had been assigned to operate the cannons.
The regular artillerymen had likely all been picked off by the French riflemen...
At that thought, they huddled even closer to the ground, their spirits sinking.
By the time darkness fell, that particular 18-pounder cannon had not fired a single shot.
At dawn the next day.
An Austrian major arrived at the battery manned by the Zimmerman Company. It was only during these hours of dim light that officers dared to show themselves on the ramparts.
"Lads, you've done excellently!" the major declared, surveying the dejected soldiers and raising his voice to boost their morale. "We've passed the most dangerous stage."
"Twenty thousand British reinforcements have landed at Hamburg and will be here within two weeks."
"And General Blücher’s forces have finished their reorganization. They might even arrive sooner than the British."
"You've all heard of him, surely? Yes, the Prussian general who successfully broke through the enemy lines under heavy French pursuit and brought his army back to the East Bank of the Rhine!"
"When they arrive, our total strength will exceed sixty thousand men. The French will never set foot past the Cologne fortress!"
Indeed, the Coalition forces had reached a point where merely halting the French advance was considered a rare victory.
Seeing the spark of courage return to the soldiers' eyes, the Austrian major clapped his hands in satisfaction and pointed toward the surrounding cannons. "Show those Frenchmen how you—"
He was halfway through his sentence when his adjutant ran up with a look of sheer panic, leaning in to whisper urgently in his ear.
The major’s eyes widened in shock, and he cried out, "What? Prussia has withdrawn from the Anti-French Coalition...?"
Ignoring the now-bewildered soldiers, he turned and sprinted toward the fortress headquarters.
In less than an hour, word of the armistice between Prussia and France spread like wildfire, and the entire Cologne fortress was filled with widespread lamentation.
Deep within the fortress, the major finally laid eyes on the official report that had just arrived.
It stated: Prussia had formally announced its withdrawal from the Anti-French Coalition two days ago and was recalling all its troops to its home territory.
Prussia recognized French sovereignty over the Geldern region and would recall all its administrative officials within a month.
Prussia would no longer pursue any hostile policies toward France...
In exchange, France promised to waive all war reparations and release all Prussian prisoners, excluding high-ranking officers.
This decision to waive reparations wasn't born from Joseph’s generosity; it was simply because Prussia was so impoverished that there was nothing left to squeeze out. Forcing reparations would only plant deep seeds of resentment in the hearts of the Prussian people.
"Those treacherous Prussian bastards!"
The major snarled, slamming the document onto the table. "We can hold Cologne even without them!"
No sooner had he spoken than the sound of gunfire from the ramparts intensified.
An adjutant burst through the door, gasping for breath. "The... the French have taken the Middle Embankment!"
The Middle Embankment was the fortress's second defensive wall and its most formidable.
While there was still one final line of defense further inside, it was far too cramped to withstand a concentrated artillery barrage for long.
The major bolted for the door. The fortress had secret passages that would allow him to retreat to the northern sector, where he could reach another stronghold to continue the fight.
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