Chapter 361: The Mounted Artillery Shows Its Might Again
The Imperial Guard maintained a tight formation, advancing steadily while executing precise three-rank volleys. Under this relentless and efficient attack, the Hanoverian infantry line was soon split into three sections. Across the kilometer-wide battlefield, every few minutes a group of Hanoverian soldiers would break ranks, ignoring their officers, dropping their weapons, and fleeing in panic.
Before long, even the officers began to follow suit. The rear ranks of the Imperial Guard had not yet fully engaged when they heard the drumbeat change. Instantly, they adjusted their formation, flanking the enemy on both sides.
From a distance, Murat heard the enemy's drums falter, becoming irregular and then fading. His heart raced with excitement—this was a sure sign that the enemy's lines were breaking. As expected, the order came from the commander—Cavalry Regiment, pursue the fleeing enemy.
Murat spurred his horse and, with a gleeful shout, rallied his men, "Gentlemen, it's our turn now!"
Contrary to what many TV shows might depict, where cavalry charge headlong into enemy lines amidst heavy fire, cutting down foes left and right, the reality of warfare was different. Throughout history, cavalry's primary roles were to harass, distract, cover, and pursue. Committing expensive cavalry to frontal assaults was rare and only done when absolutely necessary—either when the enemy was weak or when the situation was desperate.
So far, Murat had only circled the Hanoverians a few times, not even drawing his saber. But now, the chance for glory had finally arrived! Last time, his bravery in breaking through enemy lines earned him a promotion to sergeant. If he could kill a few more enemies today, he might return as an officer!
Soon, the sight of Hanoverian soldiers in their red uniforms filled his view. His Arabian horse, like a wild bull, plunged him into the throng of red coats.
Meanwhile, to the north of Aughenay village, a cavalryman reported to Captain Lacoste of the mounted artillery, "Two Hanoverian infantry regiments have arrived 2 kilometers to the northwest."
Lacoste glanced at his aide and chuckled, "If they had taken any longer to get here, I might have gone for a nap."
His aide smiled in return, "We've been waiting over 40 minutes. Those Hanoverians sure take their time."
Lacoste looked out into the distance and ordered, "Have the men adjust the cannons. Let's give them a proper welcome! We just need to hold them off for three hours, and our cavalry will have destroyed their artillery and supply wagons."
Indeed, according to the staff's plan, half of the Imperial Guard's cavalry was currently heading towards the Hanoverian rear.
Soon, the cannons on the hills roared to life, sending a dozen shells whistling through the Hanoverian ranks. Although the distance meant only two shells hit their mark, the Hanoverians were still shaken. They quickly retreated a few hundred meters, sent out scouts to locate the French cannons, and then hurriedly organized skirmishers to advance.
But before the Hanoverians could fully deploy, they were met by French dragoons, who had formed a line at the base of the hill. The combination of the dragoon line and the shelling from above thwarted the Hanoverians' first assault.
Lacoste watched through his spyglass, pleased as the enemy retreated like a receding tide. He had held the line for over an hour, and at this pace, three hours would pass in no time.
Just then, a messenger approached Lacoste, saluted, and said, "Captain, Lieutenant Buonaparte has some tactical suggestions he'd like to discuss with you."
"Oh?" The artillery captain knew this young Corsican officer was sharp, so he nodded with interest, "Let's hear it."
Half an hour later, the Hanoverians reorganized their forces, this time forming a proper line of infantry for a full-scale assault.
However, the Hanoverian cavalry suddenly raised the alarm. Through his telescope, the Hanoverian commander saw a unit of French cavalry—not just cavalry but mounted artillery—charging towards his left flank, already unlimbering their cannons.
"Are these Frenchmen mad?!" he muttered, eyes twitching as he hurriedly ordered his skirmishers to take out the artillery. But before the skirmishers could even form up, the French artillery had already fired a dozen volleys, then swiftly hitched their cannons and withdrew.
The Hanoverian commander ground his teeth in frustration and ordered his infantry to launch a frontal assault. But just as they moved forward, his right flank heard another warning from the cavalry.
To the southwest of Aughenay village, Joseph peered through his spyglass at the red-uniformed soldiers on the rooftops in the distance and frowned. The Hanoverians had wisely anticipated that they couldn't match the Imperial Guard head-on, so they had positioned two thin lines of infantry on either side of the village and placed nearly half their troops inside, preparing for a drawn-out street fight.
The Imperial Guard, having just annihilated three isolated Hanoverian regiments and marched nonstop towards Carl II's main force, was now exhausted. With the Hanoverians in a fortified position and the French forces tired, a direct assault on the village could result in heavy casualties.
Berthier, who had noticed this, approached Joseph with a suggestion, "Your Highness, perhaps we should bypass the village from the west."
Joseph hesitated, recalling the map where a small river lay to the west of the village. Taking that route would mean not only adding several kilometers but also losing precious time crossing the river.
This delay could allow Carl II to regroup his forces, turning the maneuver warfare into a head-on battle. While the Hanoverians had already suffered significant losses and their artillery was lagging behind, they still had over 10,000 troops.
As for bypassing the village from the east, that would take them further away from the Hanoverian main force in the northwest, adding over 10 kilometers to their march—worse than crossing the river.
Just as Joseph and Berthier were weighing their options, they suddenly heard faint cannon fire to the north of Aughenay village. The two exchanged puzzled glances.
While it was possible that the Hanoverian main force had brought some artillery—they were still part of the infantry, after all—why would they be firing to the north? The Imperial Guard was southwest of the village.
"Something's not right, Your Highness," Berthier said, listening closely to the cannon fire. "There are at least a dozen cannons firing. The enemy shouldn't have that many."
Twenty minutes later, a group of hussars arrived to clear up the mystery.
"Report! The mounted artillery is engaging the enemy to the north of Aughenay village!"
(End of Chapter)
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