Düsseldorf, May 1st, 1797
The depressed mood in the command tent of Field Marshal Blücher was almost tangible. The higher ranking officers were downcast, and most of them could still not believe that the French had inflicted such a defeat on them. Everybody took the loss nearly personal, and thought of their personal honour as stained.
Bluecher had viewed this development with great sorrow, and thus had decided that the morale of his men had to be rescued if any gains should be made in this war. He knew that a soldier that doesn’t believe in victory is already beaten. He had to revive their hopes and confidence, and he knew only one way to do this.
“Gentlemen, I know that the French victory is hard to swallow, but we can’t let that stop us. The battle might be lost, but the war carries on!”
Some of the men present looked up, trying to look the Field Marshal in the eye, trying to determine if he believed in what he said. And they saw determination and trust in these eyes, lifting their spirits higher than any speech could have done. Blücher carried on, and gained momentum as he spoke.
“Do you really think the French are better than us? Do you really think we can only lose? Then go home and wait for them to parade through Berlin!”
Some more officers raised their heads, reminded of the danger their homes were in, and of their duty to protect their families. Even those who still didn’t quite believe in Prussian superiority forced themselves to straighten up, not for themselves, but for their people.
“This was but a minor skirmish, don’t believe anything else! We are still powerful, and we will let the French experience our might. We will give up this siege, and march directly on Moreau’s position. We will wipe out the stain on Prussia’s history, and show the frog-eaters that we are not beaten, only more angry!”
And finally the fire had sprung over, and now it burned in the eyes of everyone in the tent. Unanimously, the officers drew their sabres, and shouted: “For Prussia!”
Köln, May 14th, 1797
Looking on the torn field before him, the Feldmarschall replayed yesterday’s battle in his mind. Moreau had assumed the same position as Bülow before him, because he had hoped that the same advantage that had worked in Bülow’s favour would work for him, too.
He had forgotten that this tactic had only worked because both armies had consisted solely of infantry. For Moreau, this was still the case. Bluecher’s army, however, had also a large contingent of artillery, new 12-pounders, that had been ordered for the siege of Düsseldorf, and of course the Field Marshal commanded some cavalry regiments. Coupled with the numerical superiority, this left little doubt that the French couldn’t stand a chance.
Despite knowing this, the French General had chosen to give battle. Blücher couldn’t decide whether this was stupid bravery or brave stupidity. Whichever it was, it had provided the Prussian leader with a perfect opportunity to repair the moral damage his troops had experienced.
The preliminary artillery bombardment had had a huge effect on the enemy because of the higher ground he had chosen. It had proved to be more like a trap during the early phases of the battle, because Moreau didn’t dare to give up his position and leave himself unprotected.
Storming Prussian infantry
When finally the footmen had assaulted the heights, there was little resistance left. Who had survived the barrage had turned to flee quickly, but the Prussian cavalry had chased them down, taking bloody revenge for the earlier defeat. Since the French General had decided to share the fate of his troops, he had perished together with them.
Blücher knew there were many people regarding this as a ‘weak’ victory, because of the huge numerical advantage his army had enjoyed. Those same people would probably call him a coward, and demand of him to fight an equal opponent to show his true skills. But he cared little for these opinions. The difference between a fighter and a warrior was that the warrior thought of the next battle, too.
Every opportunity to inflict casualties on the enemy had to be seized, and fighting a weaker opponent was the best opportunity you could ask for. After all, it was the fault of the French to present him with such presents. Recent victory had reminded him of an ancient philosophy he had read about in history books, one that he could put to use very well here and now. He recalled the simple yet elegant phrase that described a recipe for victory, his victory over the French.
Divide et impera.
The great Caesar had managed to subdue a whole people using this strategy, with a relative small army. The united front of the Gauls would have crushed him, but he had fought and beaten them one by one. At the end, there was no one left to challenge him.
Divide and conquer. While his army wasn’t strong enough to face the combined might of the foe, it was big enough to deal with them one by one. Ceasar would have been proud…
