Life of Being a Crown Prince in France

30 kilometers west of Viseu City, Central Portugal.

Two French Hussars rode around the hills ahead, successively halted their reins, and saluted a captain riding a Gaul horse, saying: “Commander, another British cavalry squadron has arrived; it seems they could launch an attack at any moment.”

The cavalry commander nodded, “What’s the situation in the town?”

“They’ve gathered about four or five hundred guns,” one cavalryman said, “but I observed with binoculars; it’s chaotic, they shouldn’t have much combat capability.

“Oh, they seem to also have dozens of cavalrymen, mostly local mounted police.”

“I see. You two should take a rest first.”

The two hussars exchanged glances, one asked, “Commander, are we still going to do nothing, like before?”

Since more than ten days ago, British cavalry started moving around, driving away villagers and setting farmlands on fire.

This French cavalry battalion was ordered to monitor a British cavalry squadron. However, the latter had already attacked three villages, and they only followed from a distance behind.

Two days ago, they followed them to this Dusar Town.

No surprise, the newly elected town council rejected Lisbon’s “scorched earth” order.

The British cavalry seemed worried about suffering setbacks in this town of over three thousand people, so they summoned another squadron — usually, they operate in groups of 50 horsemen per squadron. After all, this area is within the supply line of the Franco-Spanish Alliance, and too much concentration of troops could easily lead to total annihilation.

The French cavalry commander smiled: “No, our ‘vacation’ is over.”

Dusar Town.

Militia camp commander Laplace nervously watched the open space to the west through binoculars. Although the British cavalry wasn’t visible there yet, he knew they were there, ready to emerge anytime.

This made him continually wipe the cold sweat off his forehead.

Yes, he was a retired sergeant, having commanded no more than 20 soldiers before. Now he had to lead 460 people to repel two squadrons of enemy troops.

But he knew he had to hold on, otherwise, their home behind them would be burned, just like the villages where people had fled to the town.

Recently, the British, holding the king’s orders, already burned down three nearby villages, causing three to four hundred people to flee to the town.

Fortunately, after hearing the rumors, Dusar Town quickly elected a council. One must admit, those previously annoying Liberals did a good deed this time.

The council collected all the weapons in town and formed a militia regiment with retired soldiers and police.

Fortunately, many of the villagers who fled were hunters; otherwise, they wouldn’t have been able to muster over four hundred people who knew how to shoot in such a short time.

A magnetic male voice came from behind: “Those nobles have drained our blood, fattened themselves, and now want us to die!

“We will use our own strength to guard our homeland, and neither the king nor the Spaniards should think of making us surrender!”

Laplace knew without turning around that it was the newly elected Senator Apinto.

He instinctively turned his head, bowing: “Master Apinto…”

The senator, however, lifted him up earnestly: “Mr. Laplace, there is no master, everyone is equal.

“Oh, I brought sweet bread and wine on behalf of the council.”

He whispered to Laplace, “We can win, right?”

He looked around, “After all, we have that thing. Where is it?”

Laplace tried to appear confident, nodding vigorously: “Yes, we will win.”

Apinto’s clasped hands relaxed, nodding along: “We just need to hold on for three days, and people from Lu Town will come to reinforce us.”

Dusar Town council had already reached a mutual defense agreement with several nearby towns.

The women who came with the senator were about to distribute the bread and wine when the dull sound of horse hooves came from afar.

Laplace quickly asked them to leave and then hastened to the frontline defense at the town entrance — a “barricade” made of numerous pieces of furniture and sandbags — shouting: “Don’t be afraid, do not fire randomly! Listen for commands!”

Almost no one paid attention to him.

Not that they didn’t want to, but their brains were too tense to respond to signals from their ears.

Ten minutes later, several dark blue figures appeared on the horizon, riding horses, moving very slowly.

It was the British hussars.

“Bang—”

A gunshot came from Laplace’s left side; someone had panicked and pulled the trigger.

The other soldiers seemed to have received a “reminder,” and the sound of “bang, bang” became unceasing.

In contrast, the village hunters remained calm because they knew that at such a distance, even a rabbit couldn’t be hit. To kill a wild boar, one had to get within 40 steps.

More cavalry appeared in view and soon started to accelerate, charging toward the town entrance in an inverted V formation.

The militia’s earlier random shooting caused no damage, and they were now fumbling to reload.

Some British cavalry dismounted to remove obstacles, and the horses behind leaped over the sandbags, horse sabers pointed at the militia over a hundred paces away.

Hunters on both sides opened fire.

But they were too few in number and failed to form a volley. After killing five or six British, some cavalry charged into the militia’s defense line.

As the horse sabers swung, over a dozen people immediately fell into pools of blood with screams.

Laplace raised his sword, loudly summoning the reserves hidden in the side alley to meet the enemy.

The cavalry was slowed by the dead, and suddenly, about a hundred people appeared in front of them, and the leading officer decisively ordered a detour from the west side of the frontline.

Behind them, over 30 mounted police immediately shouted and pursued, with flashes from their muskets killing several British.

However, after a few hundred meters, the British suddenly turned to the side, and 50 waiting British hussars charged into the disordered mounted police ranks.

Blood sprayed, over ten people were instantly cut down by horse sabers.

The remaining mounted police were so frightened that they turned and fled, but turning on horseback was painfully slow. The British circled behind them, quickly regrouped, and charged back.

Ultimately, only seven bloodied mounted policemen made it back to the town.

The British cavalry calmly regrouped and soon launched another assault.

This time, the Dusar Town militia was even more at a loss — around them lay dozens of corpses, as if Death were grinning at them. Over a third of them, after firing one shot, dropped their weapons and turned to flee.

Laplace and the others desperately resisted for about half an hour before having to retreat into the town’s inner area, trying to continue holding their ground in the streets and alleys.

The British, however, expertly cleared street by street. Half of them dismounted for volley fire, while the other half pursued the retreating militia.

By around three in the afternoon, over a hundred militiamen had been killed, and the British cavalry had reached the town church.

At this moment, Senator Apinto suddenly appeared on the church’s clock tower, waving a white flag and shouting, “Surrender, we surrender!”

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