Chapter 37: The Last Stand of the Mamluk Cavalry

As Murad gave the command, the Mamluk cavalry sprung into action, spurring their warhorses forward and swinging their sabers at the French forces. "The enemy cavalry is coming, prepare for battle," Napoleon said, his gaze sharpening as he ordered his troops to ready themselves.

Following Napoleon's command, countless French soldiers tightly packed together, forming hollow square formations with their bayonets fixed to their muskets, ready to counter the Mamluk charge. The cavalry circled the French formations, probing briefly before launching a fierce charge.

Faced with the enemy's charge, the French infantry responded with volleys from their smoothbore muskets and shotguns. "Fire!" All the French soldiers fired simultaneously, the close formation amplifying the effect of their muskets. In an instant, a dense hail of bullets swept towards the charging cavalry. Many Mamluks were struck down, tumbling from their mounts.

Napoleon then commanded his artillery to open fire, and shells exploded amidst the enemy's center, the powerful blasts knocking riders from their horses in a ghastly spectacle.

"Cursed be! Pasha, I did not expect the enemy's firepower to be so fierce; our cavalry can't break through," Muhammad Ali exclaimed anxiously from the hillside, having underestimated the French. The firepower was so intense that the Mamluk cavalry couldn't even reach the French lines.

"No, we absolutely cannot retreat; continue the attack. I have brought all our forces. We cannot return in disgrace. Otherwise, Youssef El-Rashid will mock me," Murad said harshly, cutting off Muhammad Ali. Everyone in Egypt knew he had marched north to fight the French. If they were to return defeated, not only would he face ridicule from his political rivals, but his very position of power could be at risk.

"All soldiers, commit to the attack. This time you will lead the charge yourself. We must defeat the enemy," Murad stated desperately, placing his last hope on Muhammad Ali's courage to break through the French lines.

"As you command, Pasha. I will go now," Muhammad Ali nodded slightly.

He then mounted his warhorse, drew his precious sword, and shouted to the remaining Mamluk cavalry: "Hear me, everyone! Those across from us are demons from Europe, here to invade our homeland. This is Ramaniyah, Cairo's final defense line. If we lose here to the French, then Cairo itself is in grave danger."

"Now, to protect our homeland, let us fight together!" With those words, Muhammad Ali personally led the charge, waving his saber towards the French positions. Inspired by his words, the demoralized Mamluk cavalry mustered their courage and charged once more towards the French lines.

However, the Mamluks were met with a relentless barrage of musket fire from the French forces. After a round of firing, nearly a hundred Mamluk cavalry fell dead upon the ground.

"Disperse the ranks, don't cluster together. If we spread out, their muskets cannot harm us," Muhammad Ali quickly devised a tactic in response to the fierce French firepower. The plan was to utilize the high mobility of the cavalry by spreading out the formation. In this era, the rifles used by most armies were still smoothbore muskets, which were inaccurate and required massed volleys to be effective.

Due to the inaccuracy of the muskets, each French square could only effectively target one area at a time. If the Mamluk cavalry dispersed, the damage inflicted by the French would be limited.

"Everyone, spread out, spread out!" Following Ali's command, the Mamluk cavalry once again demonstrated their superb horsemanship. They spurred their horses into controlled chaos, moving erratically but without disorder, and soon the cavalry units had effectively scattered.

Muhammad Ali's strategy proved to be very effective. Since dispersing, the French volleys had caused minimal damage to the cavalry.

"Good, keep pressing the attack. Let them see how formidable the Mamluk cavalry, the terror of the Arab world, truly is."

Seeing the French attack falter, a smile of satisfaction appeared on Muhammad Ali's face. He knew that if they could just close the distance to the French, his men could decimate the enemy with their sabers.

"The enemy's cavalry is upon us!" Meanwhile, at the French lines, Marmont panicked as the rifles became ineffective against the charging, dispersed cavalry. "What do we do now?"

"All soldiers, fix bayonets, prepare for close combat. The enemy's cavalry has chosen to spread out to dodge our fire, but this will also diminish their charge's impact. As long as we hold our positions, there's nothing to fear from their cavalry."

As fear of the Mamluk charge spread among the French troops, Roland suddenly ran to the center of the formation and shouted, revitalizing the soldiers.

Roland's call awakened the French troops as if from a dream. The reinvigorated French soldiers gripped their bayoneted muskets tightly, took deep breaths, and prepared to meet the incoming cavalry.

"Charge!" As the Mamluk cavalry collided with the French infantry, fierce cries of battle erupted across the field. Under Muhammad Ali's command, the Mamluk cavalry reached the front lines of the French forces, but instead of encountering panic-stricken faces, they were met with the bayonets that the French had readied.

As the Mamluks charged, the French soldiers remained composed. Each soldier grabbed their weapon to engage in close combat with the incoming cavalry.

Despite their ferocity, the Mamluk cavalry struggled to break through the French lines. The standoff continued fiercely.

"Fire!" The Mamluks pushed hard but could not penetrate the French formation, which added to their frustration. However, the French troops were not idle—they reloaded their muskets and opened fire again, striking down many Mamluk riders.

At this close range, the inaccuracy of smoothbore muskets was no longer a significant factor. The combatants were almost face-to-face, and at such proximity, even a blind man could hit his target with a rifle.

The Mamluks, renowned for their bravery and fighting skills, found themselves locked in a desperate struggle. The French, disciplined and steady under pressure, utilized their firearms with lethal efficiency. As smoke and cries filled the air, the battlefield became a gruesome tableau of the harsh realities of war.