Life of Being a Crown Prince in France

Capítulo 1309: Chapter 1214: The Stalking Hawk (Requesting Monthly Votes)

Pilo’s adjutant glanced at his pocket watch and turned to remind him:

“General, it’s almost nine o’clock.”

Pilo nodded solemnly. According to the plan, he would launch the attack simultaneously with Blucher at half past ten in the morning.

When he was still a colonel, he fought under Napoleon’s command. The scenes of bullying the Austrian Army with the French Army were still fresh in his memory.

And now, he had to confront the French Army head-on.

He felt as if he were about to leap into the arena to gamble with the lion.

“Fortunately, that person is not here,” he muttered quietly, puffing up his chest to appear more confident.

Of course, he was referring to Napoleon.

“Tell the soldiers to prepare for battle,” he gestured to the Order Officer. “We shall win.”

Meanwhile, 10 kilometers southeast of the Pilo Corps, a Courier saluted Colonel Joubert, the commander of the French Army’s “Engineering Corps”:

“Colonel, General Ney asked me to tell you he is ready.”

“Please inform General Ney that the Sardinians are in the valley to his southwest. There are more than 12,000 of them.”

“Yes, Colonel.”

Joubert then turned to Montalto, the Parma commander beside him:

“They should be moving soon; let’s get ready to depart as well.”

At half-past ten in the morning, the rumbling sound of cannons erupted punctually at the St. Gotthard Pass.

The Blücher Corps pushed all of their last four 6-pound cannons to the front. The Royal Grenadier Battalion charged the French Army’s line, defying death.

But in less than twenty minutes, they were suppressed by the heavy artillery of the French and left the ground covered with corpses.

Blucher looked at the watch and roared:

“Why haven’t those Sardinian fools attacked yet?”

Worried about missing the opportunity, he turned and gestured to an officer:

“Major Ophelis, personally lead 5 hussar squadrons to cooperate with the Grenadier Battalion and continue the attack!”

“Yes, General.”

Three kilometers away from the Pass by the valley, the adjutant anxiously looked at Pilo:

“General, the Prussian Army has already started engaging the French, we…”

The latter raised his hand to interrupt him:

“Wait a bit longer, let the Prussians draw more firepower; otherwise, we might not be able to approach the French enemy line. We only have one chance to attack.”

After nearly half an hour, Pilo finally gritted his teeth and ordered:

“Proceed with the predetermined plan, attack.”

More than ten thousand Sardinian soldiers immediately leaped out of the valley, heading straight for the French Army outside the Pass.

However, after advancing only two kilometers, light, rhythmic drumming suddenly came from the front of the small thickets, and then a white line of infantry appeared before them. Check latest chapters at novęlfire.net

Pilo saw through his binoculars the banner of the French 52nd Infantry Regiment, frowned, and gestured to the adjutant:

“Go tell the French we are here to reinforce the Pass defenses.”

The adjutant left but never returned.

Pilo felt a sinking premonition, but when the hussars reported that there were only less than two thousand French troops ahead, his confidence returned in a flash.

“Order Colonel Ferrini to charge and drive back the French!”

Immediately, the Sardinian Army’s cannons began to spit flames, and two lines of infantry rapidly advanced towards the French in front of them.

At that moment, several thunderous booms made Pilo’s ears ring.

He thought, I didn’t bring that many cannons… He suddenly froze — the direction of the cannon sounds was wrong!

He whipped around, just in time to hear another series of cannon fire.

This time, he heard clearly, the firing was coming from his rear flank.

Two panicked cavalrymen rushed over, shouting to him:

“General, our rear formation is under attack!”

Pilo’s face turned pale immediately, he anxiously asked, “Who is it?”

“It seems to be the French, General.”

Currently, the whole of Northern Italy wore French-style white military uniforms, making it genuinely hard to distinguish at a glance.

“Damn! How could this happen…”

Pilo hurriedly commanded the nearest two infantry regiments to set up a line of defense, but it was clearly too late.

Joubert’s cavalry battalion cut in from the left flank of the Sardinian Army, and 8 French assault squadrons almost simultaneously reached behind Pilo’s central force.

Further back was the Parma Army’s infantry line. With the French taking the lead in front, their spirits were also high, full of fighting enthusiasm.

And the Sardinian Army’s frontal assault also encountered a head-on blow.

Though there were only two thousand French troops here, their firepower was fierce, and their defense compact, quickly repelling Ferrini’s first charge.

Then, there was no second charge.

The routing soldiers from the Sardinian rear rushed in and shattered Ferrini’s formation.

Upon learning that they were encircled by the French, the Sardinian vanguard also began to retreat in chaos.

Over Blucher’s side, having lost over 3,000 soldiers during the frantic breakthrough, they finally heard the long-awaited sound of cannon fire from the south.

“Those time-ignorant Sardinian scoundrels finally arrived!” he cursed a few times and ordered the launch of the largest wave of attacks.

Over two thousand Prussian infantry, under the cover of 3 cavalry squadrons, surged out of the Pass — the maximum number the pass could accommodate. The General promised that as long as they broke through the French defense line, everyone would receive a 200 thaler reward.

“Disperse as much as possible, do not be afraid!” A Prussian officer pointed to the south, “Do you hear the cannons from afar? The Sardinian Army is attacking the rear of the French.

“The enemy’s line will soon fall into chaos. Victory will be ours!”

The Prussian Soldiers followed with a chorus of shouts, courageous under the whistling shells surging forward.

However, they had barely rushed out 200 meters when the inspiring cannon fire in the distance suddenly ceased without a trace.

The Prussians exchanged puzzled glances, their pace involuntarily slowing.

A dozen shells whizzed past them. Blood mist filled the air immediately, and shredded limbs were scattered everywhere…

The French line showed no signs of disorder; their artillery fire remained dense and accurate.

Blucher gritted his teeth, launching assaults until after three in the afternoon, but never heard the Sardinians’ attack again.

Finally, the horrifying casualties made the Prussian soldiers too afraid to advance, even though the officers cut down several men, they still couldn’t organize another charge.

Blucher used every curse he could think of against the Sardinians.

At this moment, his army only had about a week’s worth of food left — Switzerland was extremely barren, and he had gained little to eat in the Altendorf area before — if they couldn’t get into Northern Italy, he would only have two outcomes: mutiny or surrender.

With wounded soldiers’ painful wails all around, all the officers looked at him with numb expressions.

Blucher finally sighed heavily and murmured the order:

“Retreat. Return to Altendorf.”