I'm the Dauphin in France

Chapter 1262 The Karlsruhe Counterattack
Archduke Karl was awakened by the strong smell of sulfur.

The pungent smell made him want to cough, but he found that his mouth was stuffed with a roll of cowhide, his hands and feet were tied, and even breathing was very difficult.

Whispers came from outside: "Those cowardly and foolish Prussians actually surrendered because they were scared by ten thousand French soldiers!"

“These fools could easily retreat to East Prussia and hold their ground; the Allied forces will arrive to help them soon.”

"Our north side is no longer safe..."

"Hmph, General Milius is on his way to Berlin, and he might be able to take it over in a few days."

"Let's hope so. The soldiers are all talking about it now..."

Archduke Karl was not surprised by his condition. He had suffered from epilepsy since childhood, and every time he woke up, he was tied to the bed and fumigated with sulfur.

The doctor, who was waiting nearby, noticed the movement and quickly went to the bedside, leaning down to ask, "Your Highness, are you awake?"

Upon hearing the news, the people outside immediately rushed in.

Archduke Karl of the Schwarzenberg Prince, who was at the head of the group, bowed and said, "Marshal, are you feeling better?"

Grand Duke Karl and his guards untied themselves and struggled to sit up, saying, "I'm fine."

He felt a wave of dizziness, probably from the effects of the opium, shook his head, and asked Prince Schwarzenberg, "How long have I been unconscious?"

"It's been most of a day, Marshal."

Grand Duke Karl frowned, ignoring the doctor's incision in his arm to draw blood, and pulled Chief of Staff Werther from the crowd, giving the order:
"Immediately recall the troops heading to Amberg, leaving only the Wilmze Legion to continue besieging Morrow. We have no time to waste."

Prince Heisingen, standing nearby, exclaimed excitedly, "Are we going to teach the Prussian traitors a lesson?"

Archduke Karl waved his hand wearily: "The Prussians pose no immediate threat to us. As long as we gain the upper hand on the battlefield, they will surely return."

"We must break through the enemy's Baden defenses as soon as possible in order to seize the initiative on the battlefield."

He was making battle plans at his bedside when the Duke of York, the British Commander-in-Chief, strode in, looked him over, and forced a smile, saying, "Thank God you've recovered."

Before Archduke Karl could speak, the Englishman anxiously replied, "I need to send the Wellesley Legion to Hanover."

"As you know, after the Prussians surrendered, the area was at risk of being attacked by the French army at any time."

Grand Duke Karl sighed, "Forgive my bluntness, Your Highness, but I'm afraid it's too late. We must concentrate our forces..."

The Marquis of Wellesley's troops are currently in western Saxony, more than 220 kilometers from Hanover, and will certainly be intercepted by the French along the way.

"No!" the Duke of York suddenly roared, abandoning all decorum. "I don't care about your grand strategies. Almost all the military spending here comes from our country; you must find a way to protect Hanover for me!"

The room fell silent, with only the dripping sound of blood from Archduke Karl's arm falling into the basin.

……

Baden.

Southeast of Karlsruhe.

As Korsakov was studying the map, pondering where to launch his attack the next day, a messenger came rushing toward him.

He looked up at the sky and couldn't help but smile. It wasn't even noon yet, and the front line had already made a breakthrough. It seemed like today was a lucky day.

Unexpectedly, the messenger shouted from a distance, "General, Zagatsev's army has been defeated!" Korsakov frowned; Zagatsev was the main force responsible for the frontal attack.

He immediately waved his hand dismissively and said, "Let them retreat to the vicinity of the village of Dermisa. The Snilekhov Legion will go to meet them."

After a month of fighting, he had become quite familiar with the French recruits on the other side—their morale was high, their bayonet charges were extremely fierce, but their training level was very low. Even if they gained the upper hand, as long as he retreated a little, they would scatter as he chased them.

The messenger, however, did not leave. He said anxiously, "General, the village of Kedelmisa has been occupied by the enemy..."

"What?" Korsakov exclaimed in surprise. The village was right near his command post.

He turned to his staff and said, "Send someone to Sir Graham for help..."

He had only spoken halfway when he suddenly heard a cannon boom from the north, clearly not far away.

Immediately, a cavalryman arrived to report: "General, our right flank has been attacked. General Kassiakin requests your reinforcements!"

Korsakov was somewhat bewildered. How had the French army suddenly become so formidable today, even mastering flanking maneuvers...?

He hurriedly mobilized reserves to the right flank, but only half an hour later, the routed troops of Snilekhov's army had already reached his command post.

Little did he know that the enemy he was fighting was not the French Sixth and Seventh Armies he had fought before, but the Royal First Army led by Masséna, which had just arrived in Karlsruhe the day before.

The Russian army, which had recently become accustomed to the low-intensity firepower of the French recruits, was immediately routed when it clashed with these elite troops.

By a little after 1 p.m., even the new recruits of the Sixth Army had joined the pursuit.

Massena, meanwhile, led two divisions away from the battlefield, bypassing the Allied positions and quickly advancing towards Friolzheim, 20 kilometers to the southeast.

The following day at noon, the disheveled Anglo-Russian allied forces fled all the way here, only to be surprised to find that the French army had already set up a strong defensive line on both sides of the city.

Without hesitation, Korsakov ordered generals such as Snilekhov and Kassiakin to take command of Graham, while he himself led a small cavalry unit to flee south towards the Danube River.

Württemberg is located on the outskirts of Stuttgart, the capital of Württemberg.

A French soldier swung his rifle butt and smashed it hard into the face of a Russian prisoner walking at the back of the column. The prisoner screamed and fell to the ground, spitting out two bloody teeth.

The nearby French soldiers looked over and smiled.

It wasn't that they had sadistic tendencies; these Russians' frenzied attacks on the Baden defenses resulted in the deaths of tens of thousands of French soldiers, with as many as 14,000 wounded.

Whenever they think of their former comrades, they find it hard to suppress their anger.

"Hey, stop! You can't do this!" Sergeant Gaizka blew his whistle and pointed at the soldiers who were still beating people. "The regimental commander said these prisoners are going to Trier to build the railroad. How can they work if they're injured?"

Massena, who was passing by not far away, glanced at the endless line of prisoners of war, turned to the Crown Prince and smiled, "Your Highness, with these 20,000 people, the railway to Cologne should be completed soon."

Joseph nodded: "If we had enough funds, we could even start construction on the railway in Baden at the same time."

The severe disconnect between the British and Russian troops besieging Baden and the main Allied forces meant that they were unable to receive any reinforcements when they were outnumbered by Massena.

After more than two days of fierce fighting, Graham was forced to surrender with 7,000 British troops and more than 20,000 Russian troops.

　There's more tonight. The free chapter will be in the next chapter.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)