The War Court and Lap Pillow, Austria's Mandate of Heaven

Chapter 1954 Entering the City
"Is what's written here true? Have we won? Did the French just retreat like that?"

The officer standing to the side looked on incredulously. After all, the French army had seemed so confident of victory, having invested so many troops and resources, with the ash from the rocket explosions covering the streets.

Are you retreating now?
"Are they lying to us?"

Fanny Curt's tone was confident.

"No. The Austrian army certainly has that capability."

However, the other officers were even more confused.

"Austria is almost 400 kilometers away from here. Did they fly here?"

The officer who spoke found it unbelievable, but not only him, everyone present felt that this was perfectly reasonable in the context of the Austrian Empire's army.

The Austrian Empire's army often did some unexpected things, but traveling nearly 400 kilometers in two days was still somewhat absurd.

Because both sides were well-prepared, the French army's initial offensive was not successful.

"We'll know everything in two hours."

Fanny Curt's lips curved into a smile she herself didn't even notice, but her eyes held a hint of melancholy that didn't belong to a victor.

The news spread quickly, and the sun rose as well. Children selling newspapers ran through the streets, kicking up clouds of dust.

This only made people hate the French army's attack methods even more; the greatest harm those rockets did to the people of Metz was the ubiquitous ashes.

"We won! We really won!"

With each roar of youth, the entire city erupted in cheers. People hiding in the cellars emerged, cheering and cursing the French for their shamelessness.

Many houses collapsed under the continuous bombardment of rockets, and even those that did not collapse were mostly unrecognizable.

Although hiding in a cellar could theoretically effectively avoid the damage caused by bombing, the feeling of watching dust fall from above in those dark and damp caves was not pleasant.

"The shameless French are finally gone! Long live the French!"

People on the street embraced each other, screaming, crying, laughing, and a mixture of countless emotions.

The city gates were reopened, and the obstacles piled up on the roads were cleared. People began to splash water on the streets, washing away the humiliation and fear of those days.

Soon, a strange color appeared on the distant horizon, like a white light. The white uniforms of the light cavalry gleamed in the sunlight as they slowly advanced along the railway.

Although somewhat tired, the cavalrymen still meticulously patrolled the area around the railway.

Following the light cavalry came a large contingent of dragoons; the sound of countless hooves hitting the ground was so powerful that even people miles away could feel the impact.

"There must be tens of thousands of cavalrymen, right?"

A young officer from Metz unconsciously swallowed.

Massive numbers of cavalrymen kept appearing on the horizon and steadily advancing forward.

From the ground, all you can see is dust and smoke; only from the top of the city wall can you feel the awe-inspiring power.

It's already quite remarkable that tens of thousands of cavalry can maintain a basic formation during a march, but the cavalry formation in front of us even gives the impression of being very orderly.

"Could it be that they were the ones who defeated the French army?"

People couldn't help but speculate. Europeans of this era had an almost pathological worship of cavalry due to their chivalric culture.

Of course, if the roles were reversed, they wouldn't dare to stand in front of this cavalry.

Fanny Cotter was also deeply moved by the sight, but Franz had told her that cavalry was a type of soldier that was about to be phased out.

Had he lied to her again? She felt extremely ashamed and angry.

But Fanny Cotter's intuition told her that a cavalry force of this size couldn't possibly charge in a large-scale attack, because it would be too much of a target and too wasteful.

They were even more difficult to break through when facing well-trained troops, the most typical example being Marshal Ney's charge at the Battle of Waterloo.

Michel Ney was actually an excellent cavalry commander, and was known as the warrior among warriors. But even such a man could not break through the British phalanx when he personally went into battle, because the horses' instincts would not allow them to charge into the bayonet jungle.

While the possibility that the French army might be easily defeated cannot be ruled out, based on Fanny Cotter's understanding of Franz, the latter was not afraid of taking risks, but he would not gamble on the French army being easily defeated.

Franz's tactics in battle may seem extravagant and wasteful, but they were actually precisely calculated and remarkably effective.

Although the cavalry force before them was impressive, the French army numbered nearly 100,000 and was not entirely without the ability to fight, nor should they have taken the initiative to retreat.

As the military music began, the music, which should have been awe-inspiring, instead made people stomp their feet and clap their hands.

This was the style of military music in the Austrian Empire. Composers preferred this cheerful and humorous melody. In addition, the Austrians were living relatively well at the time, so they found it difficult to write such heavy music.

The Radetzky March sets the atmosphere more like a festive gathering, rather than a scene of survivors of war.

However, when the army arrived at the city of Metz, they did not enter the city directly. All the cavalrymen lined up on both sides of the railway, seemingly to receive the attention of the people, or perhaps to wait for something.

Until a sharp whistle pierced the sky, a black behemoth appeared in the distance and moved toward Mace at an astonishing speed.

The black smoke billowing from above and the dust rising up blended together.
As it approached, the enormous tremor completely drowned out the cheers around it. Even the Austrian soldiers on both sides of the railway did not cheer, but instead paid their respects to it.

The ground began to resonate, and even the air seemed to tremble slightly. A steel monster weighing over a thousand tons was hurtling towards them.

People of this era are no longer unfamiliar with trains, but they still feel a sense of awe.

The jet-black car body, in particular, formed a stark contrast with the white-clad knights scattered throughout the city.

At the same time, the train's appearance seemed different from what they usually saw; it appeared larger and heavier, with some mottled white spots on it, as if it had been hit by rockets or artillery shells.

The train slowly pulled into the platform, its wheels sending up a burst of dazzling sparks.

With a "whoosh" sound, a large plume of white steam burst forth.

The train finally came to a stop, and as the carriages slowly opened, they revealed not heroes waiting to cheer, but wounded soldiers awaiting medical treatment.

The surrounding crowd fell silent for a moment, while the welcoming crowd seemed somewhat at a loss. Those dignitaries and social elites who had paid money to secure good spots were filled with bewilderment and confusion.

This was the first time they had learned that Austrian soldiers could also be injured.

Some of the ladies instinctively covered their mouths, scattering the flowers and candies they had intended to throw on the ground.

The soldiers didn't want to spoil the atmosphere; after all, weren't they risking their lives for this moment of victory? However, these soldiers instinctively felt a habitual sense of shame. Even in the Austrian Empire, even after so many years of reforms by Franz, the traditional mindset that soldiers were inferior to others still existed.

This made some soldiers from lower-class backgrounds feel inferior, while some soldiers who joined the army because of their ideals and beliefs were somewhat stubborn. On the one hand, they saw their scars as proof of honor, and on the other hand, they felt ashamed and disgraced.

The soldiers tried to appear nonchalant, but their exhaustion and blood-stained bandages betrayed them.

"What are you standing there for! Come and help!"

The female military doctor accompanying the army shouted sternly, and only then did the people around begin to move, making way for the wounded.

The mayor, who was in charge of receiving them, turned pale and didn't know what to say. He regretted taking the opportunity to show his face.

In fact, the mayor also had his own plans. At this time, the arrival of the Austrian Empire with the momentum of a great victory would inevitably arouse speculation.

In reality, nationalists were everywhere in Alsace-Lorraine at this time, and these officials had already made some guesses and heard rumors.

Despite the French people's confidence, these former French citizens have absolutely no trust in the French government.

In fact, Duke Morni had already secretly contacted these local officials in Alsace-Lorraine under the instruction of Napoleon III, hoping that they would abandon their evil ways and, ideally, cooperate with the uprising during the siege, or at least cause some sabotage.

On the surface, these people readily agreed, but in reality, they were disobedient and did not do a single thing they were told to do.

They only wanted to have a way out, but they never intended to actually gamble their lives and fortunes at the gambling table. With Guizot and Thiers in power, their subordinates were naturally their allies.

It's understandable that they wanted to join in the fun after the Austrians arrived.
However, while those people were still hesitant and uncertain, a war correspondent shouted.

"Let's cheer for our warriors! They are the victors, and what they need is not pity, but praise!"

Let's applaud their sacrifice!

Only then did people awaken from their daze, and enthusiastic applause drowned out everything.

It may be embarrassing for some, but for German nationalists it is a true national epic.

They are witnessing the birth of a legend, witnessing a pact forged in blood and lives.

The nation and the people did not abandon them; the suffering that was given lofty significance proved its value; they were not forgotten; they were no longer meaningless waste.

Wounded soldiers are not a burden; they are heroes just like everyone else, and they deserve the same hero treatment. They may even receive cheers from the people sooner than generals.

Social Darwinism was trampled underfoot because they were a community of shared destiny for the same nation.

A sense of national superiority arose spontaneously. We are different from the British; we will not regard the wounded as a burden or a stain.

Jewish nationalism: revel in victory, shirk responsibility and flee in defeat. Our nationalism: regardless of victory or defeat, the nation and the ethnic community must be held accountable to those who have made sacrifices and efforts.

Cheer for us!

Suddenly, someone started singing "The Song of Germany," and the band next to them changed the tune to match.

"Unity, justice and freedom"
For the German Fatherland;
Let us work together towards this goal.
Let's unite like brothers, hand in hand, heart to heart!
Unity, justice and freedom
It is the guarantee of our happiness;

Radiating in the light of prosperity and flourishing,
Bloom, German Fatherland!

However, to the Austrian soldiers, the same melody instinctively reminded them of "Ode to the Emperor." After all, "God Save the Emperor" and "Das Lied der Deutsches" are essentially the same piece.

"God bless Franz the Great,"

Our Franz is such a great emperor!
Excellent governance, excellent wisdom
He was bathed in radiant light;
May he be crowned with laurels in celebration of victory.

The two pieces gradually merged into one, which made some people ecstatic, some choked up and unable to speak, and some felt lost and disappointed.

In fact, Franz's decision to let the wounded soldiers enter the city first was opposed by many people, who were not disgusted by the wounded soldiers, nor were they disloyal to the empire.

In fact, many people believe that a triumphal procession should be a grand performance, especially in such a border region, to showcase the power and glory of the Austrian Empire and its brilliant victory.

They felt that the wounded soldiers were visual pollution in this grand spectacle, and were more likely to make the public uncomfortable, or even question the strength of the Austrian Empire.

They were more afraid that people would fear the cruelty of war and question its legitimacy, because this would shake the foundations of their rule and bring many unnecessary troubles to the next war.

Moreover, according to the rules left over from the Roman era, the order of the triumphal procession should be that the vanguard, carrying prisoners of war and spoils of war, goes first, followed by the commanders and generals who are the main characters, and finally the soldiers who are the victors.

By the 19th century, it was generally customary for elite cavalry to lead the way, with the commander and military band entering the city together.

It was clearly against protocol to let the wounded soldiers enter the city first; it would reveal the weakness of the empire.

According to tradition, the victorious heroes must be perfect, and the soldiers must be in perfect formation, marching in unison, so that people can see that we are still strong and still worthy of their respect.

This would also expose the lie that the aristocracy has always romanticized war. War is not an elegant sport among nobles; it involves not only sophisticated tactics and strategic maneuvering but also bloody realities.

But Franz didn't care about those things, or rather, that was the effect he wanted; he wanted to rebuild the empire and the nation.

Then a second train entered Metz, this time carrying not wounded soldiers, but heroes and generals who had rendered meritorious service, along with Franz.

Franz's appearance clearly caught everyone off guard, and the cheers he received were louder than anyone else's.

Franz, dressed in military uniform, still looked so young and strong; some people even fainted on the spot from excitement.

"Long live the Emperor!"

"Long live His Majesty Franz Joseph I!"

Long live the Empire!

The cheers were deafening; commoners, nobles, and soldiers alike were shouting at the top of their lungs, because no one knew beforehand that Franz was in the army.

The compassion people showed before was genuine, and their current fervor is not pretentious; it is all a true reflection of reality.

The atmosphere in the entire city reached its peak, but Franz remained calm; he had already experienced far too much.

Of course, Franz knew what to say at this moment. Although he didn't particularly like being sentimental or making grand pronouncements, as an emperor, he sometimes had to do so.

Although Franz was not the ruler of Alsace-Lorraine, at this particular moment he carried more weight than the Count of Paris.

Furthermore, with the spread of nationalism, Franz became more popular than the Count of Paris.

Franz glanced at the tallest building in the city, and Fanny Cotter immediately hid in her command post, her heart pounding wildly.

(End of this chapter)