A Prussian Pause
On the Prussian left Dörnberg rallied his shaken hussars while the Lützowers lined the hedgerows. To the young and inexperienced students and intellectuals of the
Schwarz Jäger, Soult's hardened veterans appeared unassailable.
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Lützower Botony Department: Best stop here, Lads. Gosh, vot an interesting hedge! Poets (in raptures): Ja, und look at ze beautiful butterflies! Damsels in Disguise (outraged): And you call yourselves "Men"?! |
Oblivious to the drama on the flanks, Driberg's assault columns continued their march towards the heights.....
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| Driberg: Up ze Guts, I tell you! |
...where the Emperor's daughters were preparing a reception.
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| Guard Artillery Commander: Oooh look, Prussians. Let's give them a nice warm welcome! |
The 21st was the first to mount the slopes. "Just a few more steps and the hill is ours!", urged Gneisenau, but the fire of the French voltigeurs immediately checked the advance. The 21st teetered on the brink and then began to fall back.
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| Gneisenau: The last vun onto ze top is a sissy! |
To the right of the 21st, the Neumark Landwehr reached the foot of the hill immediately below the French Imperial Guard. As Cambronne's Chasseurs presented their muskets, the French grand battery also prepared to fire. "Now's your time, Neumarks!", cried Bülow, "Charge!" .
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| Neumarks: $@E#%&!!!!! |
Time seemed to stand still as the scene momentarily flickered back into monochrome.
1969 was slipping away from us. A sharp thump to the time machine, however, brought the action roaring back to life.
With a deafening crash, smoke and flames burst from the French ranks as the Chasseurs and the artillery fired simultaneously. The effect was annihilating. Bülow had no choice but to follow the shattered remnants of the Neumarks as they fled towards the rear.
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| Cambronne: See that, Chasseurs? Now, if we can just do that five more times... |
A Bolt from the Blue
Although the Prussian guns had been in action for several turns, their fire had been completely ineffective. Unless they found the range swiftly, the Prussian assault would be doomed.
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Battery Captain: Fire at will!
Gunner: ..but which of them is Will, Sir? |
Undaunted, the Russo-German Legion charged. Cambronne's men had unwisely advanced beyond the crest, masking the French guns, and their own desultory volley could do nothing to halt onslaught. In the furious hand-to hand struggle that followed, the Guardsmen were slowly pushed back. Arentschildt galloped onto the rise, waving his sword excitedly.
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| Arentschildt: That's the spirit, Legionnaires! |
Driberg sensed victory. The French gunners were decimated as the Prussian gunners finally found the range...
...while on the far right the entire French cavalry finally collapsed into rout. The triumphant Prussian horsemen surged forward in pursuit.
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| Murat: Curse these Pole bolters! |
"Vun last push und ze victory is ours!", Driberg cried. Leaving nothing to chance, however, he ordered the Lützowers to renew the attack against the French right. At the very least they would keep Soult's men distracted while the French left and centre were crushed. Dörnberg readied the Estorffs for another charge.
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| Dörnberg (sounding the charge): They thought it was Hanover. Well it is now! |
The Swiss were mesmerised by the hypnotic symmetry of the Lützowers' black and white cockades until a few words from Soult broke the spell.
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| Soult: We're in luck, Boys, they've painted handy little targets onto their hats! |
The Swiss delivered a devastating volley. As the smoke cleared, both German regiments were seen recoiling in confusion.
But it was too late. Although Cambronne's guardsmen fought on and the 13th Légère had yet to be seriously engaged, the Prussian cavalry were swarming into the French rear area. The Emperor turned and rode away, clutching at his inflamed oesophagus.
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| Napoleon: Grrrooolp...It's no good, Essex. Arrange an armistice while I go in search of some Gaviscon! |
And so the battle ended. As we travelled back to the present we caught a final glimpse of the defiant Neumarks rallying around their chief.
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Bülow: Ze enemy are asking to Parlez, General!
Driberg: Aaach, vell zen let zem have it. We must recruit our strength!
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It was a short battle, but thoroughly enjoyed by all. Wellington Lad II took his defeat on the chin, but is refusing to get used to it. He is plotting vengeance...
Till then,
WM
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