Descending On France 1780
Chapter 274 - 267 Magnificent France

Chapter 274: 267 Magnificent France

Dan Dong: "Once such a precedent is set, soon Parliament will be ceaselessly debating just to send enemies to the guillotine!"

Robespierre: "Isn’t that exactly what we want? We are mercifully giving our enemies the opportunity to defend themselves. If they can convince everyone, convince the watching public, they can save their lives. How merciful that is."

Everyone looked at each other blankly.

The standing Member of Parliament, who had been stuttering about Frost being a Royalist, finally spat out: "This will mark the beginning of the tyranny of the majority!"

"Tyrrany of the majority?" Robespierre snorted coldly, "You are indeed a traitor. You dare say all our past decisions are wrong because they all followed the principle of the tyranny of the majority! You are truly a traitor to our nation. Let’s first vote to revoke parliamentary immunity, then vote to execute you! We must be as cold as ice towards our enemies!"

As soon as Robespierre finished, Saint Just stood up and began to sing the famous chorus from the ’Hymn of Rome’: "With the fresh blood of the enemy, we water our soil!"

After he finished the line, he continued singing, and the crowds watching all began to sing along.

The Members of Parliament looked at each other, then someone stood up and joined the singing.

One by one, many Members stood up. The entire Parliament started to sing the ’Hymn of Rome’ together.

Those who did not sing had invariably expressions of extreme panic.

They probably realized what was about to happen next.

After the singing stopped, Robespierre said: "Let’s start the voting now, to revoke the parliamentary immunity!"

Dan Dong started to speak but then hesitated, simply shaking his head and said to Robespierre: "You are the Chairman, you have the right to initiate the vote."

Robespierre looked at Dan Dong with a sharp gaze, perhaps sensing the distance in his voice.

Yet he turned his face away and announced the start of the voting.

In the end, the motion to abolish the inviolability of the representative’s personal rights was passed with a vote of 450 to 377.

**

Anning naturally could not have known so quickly about the laws passed in Paris.

He didn’t even know that Napoleon’s noble status had been dug up and then rhythmically wielded by those with intent.

After all, in this era, without cellphones, news from Paris could be considered fast if it reached Anning’s forces in a day.

He led a force of two hundred thousand men, rushing towards Babi Village.

**

In Babi Village, the coalition launched their usual attack.

Clay Bell, looking at the front lines of the coalition forces, furrowed his brows deeply.

As a potentially excellent officer, he already felt after two days of attrition warfare that his troops were clearly struggling with morale.

Continuous casualties and accumulated fatigue seriously affected the troops.

After all, the French Army relied entirely on high morale and revolutionary fervor to sustain itself.

This morning, a sergeant had already reported that someone was missing. They were in the tent the night before, but by morning, both the person and their clothes had vanished, along with other soldiers’ belongings from the same tent.

Clay Bell dispatched a few Messenger Soldiers along the road back to Paris to search for the deserter—it should have been the Cavalry’s job, but Clay Bell had no Cavalry, only Messenger Soldiers and his own horse.

Clay Bell was anxious. He had thought that the enemy forces in front of him were easy prey, with no problems lasting half a month.

Now he acutely realized that the enemy’s numerical advantage and the numbness of the rank-and-file soldiers were becoming their weapons.

Of course, the continuous rolling attacks were also exhausting the enemy, as evidenced by the enemy being more easily routed.

On the first day, the enemy’s third wave could reach the French front, but now it took the enemy’s sixth wave to do so.

But that didn’t matter, the enemy had enough troops to organize more than six waves.

The most troublesome part was the enemy’s routed soldiers knowing to bypass the next wave, fleeing through the gaps between two lines of troops.

Clay Bell: "Damn it, we should have followed my advice on the first day, to launch an immediate attack, not giving the enemy a chance to regroup. A bayonet charge could solve all problems!

"That damned Black Devil, he was shackled by his own military knowledge!"

Clay Bell turned his head to look at the old Zhong Ma’s brigade located in the center of the front line and spat viciously.

"Forget it, let’s charge, break the enemy and then attack their flank! Brothers!" Clay Bell stood on top of the cart being used as cover, waving the sword in his hand, "I know you’re exhausted from this endless rolling battle! I don’t think we can keep this up!"

He paused for a moment, sweeping his gaze over his warriors, uncertain if he could reignite the high spirits of these weary faces.

But at times like these, one can only go through with it.

Clay Bell: "Charge with me one more time! This time we will completely end the fight, all the way to the enemy’s camp, and plunder their supplies and baggage, so they don’t have the position to reorganize!

"We’ve repelled the enemy’s many attacks these days, but because their camp remains, those who ran back all escaped to the camp, and then they were reorganized!"

"Just charge through the enemy’s camp, and they won’t be able to organize! They’ll run away and totally disband."

In fact, according to military common sense of this era, deploying cavalry after defeating the enemy would prevent them from reorganizing quickly.

But Clay Bell doesn’t have this common sense, nor does he have cavalry.

So the only method of victory he could think of was to pursue with infantry and take over the camp that served as the enemy’s rallying point.

Generally, there would also be troops left behind to guard the camp. Defeating these troops too would leave the enemy with no option but to keep running.

Clay Bell: "In the past three days, we’ve had many comrades fall on the fields of Babi Village. If we end up defeated, we and these comrades will all be branded as traitors of France!

Then Clay Bell pointed toward Babi Village in the rear: "Running that way makes us cowards!"

Pointing his sword in another direction: "But going this way, we will become heroes, along with those fallen comrades!

"Hero or coward, the choice is ours to make! Because we are free citizens!

"Come on, make your choice!"

"And I choose to be a hero!"

Finishing his speech, Clay Bell took off his hat, placed it on the tip of his sword, jumped down from the carriage, and strode forward with determination.

Tall as he was, plus the length of the sword, his hat could be seen by everyone.

But the soldiers didn’t immediately follow.

They were too exhausted, and some of the words in Clay Bell’s speech were too difficult for them to understand, like "comrade" was a tough term for the common roughnecks.

Suddenly, a young drummer started beating his drum and followed Clay Bell.

The drummer seemed to be only about sixteen or seventeen years old, a tender child with a child’s characteristic rosy cheeks.

The child beat the marching drum, stepping forward without a trace of confusion.

Suddenly, one of the most magnificent scenes of the French Revolutionary Wars unfolded - a dense array of coalition troops ahead, and an officer holding his hat high marching fearlessly towards them.

Behind the officer was the youthful drummer.

One man and one drum faced thousands of troops.

The sons of France looked at each other and finally, the accumulated courage exceeded the threshold.

They began to move forward!

At first, it was just a few people, then more and more joined the advance.

Eventually, everyone was moving forward.

Their breathing became faster, as did their pace.

They were like a herd of horses chasing each other.

Competition spurred them on, steeling their faces with determination.

The coalition halted, raising their guns.

This act invigorated the sons of France even more. Under the strange bodily reaction, fear also turned into courage!

The volley fire came.

Many went down.

But those remaining marched on even faster!

Suddenly, Clay Bell shouted: "Charge! For France!"

An overwhelming roar burst forth!

Everyone was yelling, turning fear and rage into deafening roars!

The enemy’s lines collapsed instantly, as if shattered by the thundering shouts.

The Austrians turned and fled in panic, pursued by the ferocious French Army!

They didn’t even have time to find the gaps between the ranks; the fleeing troops dragged the subsequent ranks along with them.

An avalanche occurred, and, before long, the entire right wing of the Austrian army collapsed, with the French Army sweeping across the battlefield like a tidal wave.

Passing General Ferdinand’s reorganization line, the officers waiting there to regroup the troops stepped forward, bellowing: "Stop! Whoever doesn’t will be killed by me!"

Saying this, he shot a fleeing soldier with a pistol.

The next moment, several deserters surged forward and opened a few "eye holes" with their bayonets in this stubborn officer.

Seeing this, the remaining officers immediately turned tail and ran for their lives.

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