Düsseldorf, Province of Kleves, August 19th, 1795
Düsseldorf
The first sign of the approaching troops was the pillar of dust the Lieutenant had described. Many soldiers of the local garrison had gathered on the southern wall to watch the enemy arrive. After some time the first Cuirassiers came into sight. They circled the city, securing the area and occupying the suburbs outside the city walls. Of course, the citizens that lived there had already left their homes, those who could afford it had headed for Hessen, the rest did seek protection in the fortress.
When the cavalry had done a full encirclement, the infantry came. And it came in masses. The French army positioned itself around the city like a giant dragon that laid itself around it’s treasure. Although the French stayed outside the artillery range, they were so numerous that there was only the smallest gap between the camps that were erected. Soon, a ring of tents surrounded Düsseldorf, with new soldiers still arriving. Fortunately, the cavalry had already left the city, some units tasked with harassing the enemy’s supply lines, others as messengers and scouts.
…
The next day
“I don’t understand why they don’t start to build siegeworks. With the number of men Hoche commands, they would make quick progress.” The mayor of Düsseldorf, Barburg, tried his best to follow the discussion. The city officials held a council of war in the City hall and were just conferring what to do to defend the city.
The commander of the garrison, Colonel Heumann, sighed. “It would be a waste of time. With the amount of men Hoche has at his disposal, he can easily storm our fortifications. All he needs is a small opening in one of the walls. Since this is no modern fortress with forts and bastions, we would have slim chances to contain such a breach, especially with the lack of men.”
“Then there is nothing we can do? What is with reinforcements?”
“Since our army is busy in Saxony, I doubt we can expect any help. It wouldn’t arrive in time, anyway. All we can do is stay alert, and try to prevent any Frog-eater from getting near the walls.”
…
Two days later, early morning
Johann and Karl were two of the guards of the night shift. The two soldiers patrolled the Western part of the city walls, controlling the forefield for any intruders. The French had received reinforcements yesterday, now their force numbered close to 200,000 men. The guards had been doubled, and any day an attack was expected.
The two men on the parapet had come to a practical agreement. While Johann could talk all night about some technical gimmick he had heard of, Karl was very quiet. He was grateful for the continuous torrent of words, for it kept him awake, and all he needed to do was to sound his agreement from time to time.
“And in England, they have machines, they don’t need horses, they work with steam! I can’t imagine how they get steam to pull a wheel, but it seems to work. Perhaps they have invented a harness for it. But how do they tell it when to move and when not? Isn’t all this modern stuff fascinating, Karl?”
“Hmm.”
“And in America, they have a factory where cotton is spun by a machine! But, honestly, I don’t think the machine wool is as good as normal one. I mean, how could a mechanism see what it’s doing, eh, Karl?”
“Hmm.”
“Perhaps they will one day even build machines that build machines! And those machines could build other machines, and…” Lost in this train of thought, Johann temporarily was quiet. This was the moment Karl spotted something at the foot of the wall, about a hundred meters before them. Something flashed there, a few sparks went up. Suddenly, some men started to run away from that spot.
Karl shouted: “Alarm! Someone’s at the wall!”, but it was too late. An explosion shook the fortification, and a cloud of dust and dirt rose from the site of the detonation. Suddenly, a huge noise came from the French camps. Cries of “Vive la France” could be heard, and a few hundred men stormed forward. Johann and Karl and some of the other guards, who had been alerted by the blast, fired their rifles, aiming for the nearest attacking enemies, but there were too many. Some of them fell, but the rest reached the gap in the fortifications.
The first climbed the pile of bricks and rubble that was left of the wall, and were greeted by some bullets. Karl fixed his bayonet, gesturing for Johann to do the same.
More Frenchmen tried to reach the parapet; the first had nearly made it. Karl shot the first that came into view, but the second and third were already too close. He couldn’t reload his weapon, so he tried to stab him. Before he could reach him, however, his opponent spotted him, and shot. Karl felt a stinging pain in his shoulder, and lost his foothold. All he could see before he fainted has Johann defending himself against two French soldiers, knocking one down with the stock of his rifle, and killing the other with his bayonet…
Soon the fight was carried to the streets. The Prussian garrison quickly responded, since it was prepared for such an eventuality, but there were just too few men. While they tried to close the streets leading away from the breach with some barricades, the French just so many soldiers at the obstacles that they were overrun. By noon, the French Tricolour was fluttering from the top of the towers of Düsseldorf. The city had fallen.
