Life of Being a Crown Prince in France

Milan.

In Baron Tremeloni’s villa, Marshal Boliue, recovering there, glanced at the report just delivered by Lieputai. A disdainful smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he spoke to the officer beside him:

“Tell Colonel Lieputai to agree to the French request not to destroy the bridge. Use this to delay them for another two days.

“We’ll need that bridge when we move toward Alexandria later.

“In less than half a month, reinforcements from Genoa will arrive; instruct Colonel Lieputai to retreat to the Ticino River…”

He was still speaking when an officer stumbled into the room, breathless, and in a panic-stricken voice exclaimed, “Marshal, a French Army has been spotted in the southern suburbs—at least three or four thousand men… and they have quite a bit of cavalry with them…”

Boliue shot up from his chair and unconsciously made the sign of the cross over his chest.

Damnation, they’re here again!

Lieputai had just reported that there were more than ten thousand French soldiers facing him—where could this additional force come from?

Are the French like rabbits?

Do they pop up from anywhere and everywhere…?

With a pale face, Boliue motioned for his attendant to fetch his uniform, then turned sharply toward the officer and barked, “Quickly, send Major Martinelli to prepare for combat…”

But halfway through, he dejectedly shook his head.

There were only 400 soldiers in Milan, 150 of them attached to his personal guard, while the rest—mostly injured—were unfit for deployment alongside Lieputai to the Po River defensive line.

It’d be impossible to hold Milan!

Boliue glanced at the officer who’d brought the alarming news. “How far are the French from here?”

“They left Lodi at dawn; I’d estimate they’re now about six miles away from Milan.”

Six miles, roughly ten kilometers—at most half a day’s march.

Boliue hesitated a moment, then donned his coat, issuing an order to the messenger: “Tell Major Martinelli to gather the troops and retreat with me to Mantua.”

Mantua, located east of Milan, was a fortress strategically positioned to guard the path from Lombardy to Austria. Austria had invested years fortifying this stronghold, leveraging its advantageous terrain to make it impregnable.

If he could escape to Mantua, even with tens of thousands of French soldiers in pursuit, he’d be safe.

Once Melas arrived with the main forces, any unfavorable situation could be reversed.

…

Milan outskirts.

“The southeastern terrain of Milan is relatively flat—perfect for cavalry maneuvers.” Napoleon pointed at the map on his saddle and instructed Grouchy, “The grenadiers will hold off enemy forces rushing out of the city; you must advance at the fastest speed from…”

“Commander,” a Cavalry Scout Lieutenant suddenly approached, gesturing to his side, “This is Milan’s negotiation envoy, Count Reyale.”

“A negotiator?” Napoleon looked at the man dressed in a black formal suit. “Milan, not the Austrian Garrison?”

The envoy quickly bowed respectfully, “Honorable and courageous Commander, I come representing Milan City Hall and all Milan citizens to offer you the most sincere and humble greetings…”

Napoleon narrowed his eyes and asked, “What of the city’s garrison?”

“Ah, Marshal Boliue left Milan four hours ago.”

Cheers erupted among the soldiers around them, deafening in their jubilation. “The cowardly Austrians fled. We’ve won!”

“Ah-hah! Milan is ours!”

“Did you hear that? That was Boliue—haha!”

“I was hoping for a good fight with them…”

Napoleon signaled toward Grouchy, “Take men to confirm the situation.”

“Yes, Commander!”

An hour and a half later.

Napoleon stood outside Milan City, seeing from afar crowds of citizens lining the streets with bouquets, awaiting him.

Indeed, with the growing awakening of Italian national identity, Austrian rule here had become increasingly unwelcome.

The news that the French Army had driven away the Austrians spread quickly, and the Milan people felt liberated, coming out in droves to “welcome the victorious army with joy.”

However, history tells that France soon annexed Milan into its territory, and its citizens were swift in launching anti-French movements thereafter.

By Napoleon’s side, Grouchy asked, “Commander, shall we pursue Boliue?”

Napoleon shook his head. “He’s too far ahead already; it’d be difficult to track him down.”

“Then shall we enter the city now?”

“No,” Napoleon frowned, looking westward. “We have unfinished business. Major Victor.”

“I’m here, Commander.”

“Leave four companies to secure Milan,” Napoleon said as he turned his horse. “The rest will follow me to intercept Lieputai.”

Victor and Grouchy exchanged a surprised look, their faces showing disbelief.

After deploying four companies there would only be around 2,600 soldiers remaining.

Lieputai’s corps numbered over 6,000.

Securing Milan defensively would already be challenging—yet Colonel Buonaparte intended to attack instead!

Seeing their hesitancy, Napoleon raised his voice, “Lieputai knows little of our situation; he’ll certainly fear being caught in a pincer movement between us and Marmon’s forces.

“Upon hearing news that Milan has fallen to us, he’ll undoubtedly choose to retreat toward Alexandria rather than attempt to reclaim Milan.”

Grouchy and Victor simultaneously nodded. “Then shall we head back to Valenza?”

“No, Boliue has likely already sent word to Lieputai; he won’t remain in Valenza.” Napoleon gestured for his aide to unfurl the map. “I’m uncertain whether Marmon has pursued southward. We’re heading to Pavia!”

Pavia was situated at the L-shaped bend of the Po River.

Lieputai, aiming for Alexandria southwest of the Po River, would likely cross the river here.

Napoleon glanced back at Milan, his expression calm. “I’ll return very soon.”

Two days later.

Four kilometers southeast of Pavia, two Cavalry Scouts approached Napoleon to report, “Commander, a large contingent of Austrian soldiers spotted near the riverbank.”

Napoleon nodded, raising a weary hand toward his troops. “Victory lies just ahead. Finish this last four kilometers with me, and Lombardy will be rid of Austrian forces!

“Once back in Milan, you’ll immediately receive your pay.”

The soldiers instantly rallied their spirits, but after marching barely a kilometer, the cannon fire erupted from the south.

Napoleon furrowed his brow. “Has Lieputai spotted us?”

He turned to Grouchy, signaling. “Lead the cavalry and pin down the enemy.”

“Yes!”

However, only ten minutes after the cavalry departed, another scout came riding back to report. “Commander, Major Marmon’s troops are already engaged with the enemy.”

A smile spread across Napoleon’s face. “Well done. Victor, let’s assist him.”

But upon reaching the Po River, they found Marmon commanding his troops and driving a large group of prisoners into custody.

On a nearby open field, heaps of weapons, flags, and military drums had been stacked into a hill-like pile.

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