By then, the American cannon had landed more than a kilometer away.
The American Infantry, facing the thin French Army line, had been brimming with confidence, ready to crush them with a few rounds of volleys, when the cannon off to their front flank let out a thunderous roar.
Although the Louisiana Colony's Artillery was fairly mediocre, Napoleon had personally calibrated every gun position. They merely needed to keep firing at the predetermined angles, and the shells would accurately pass through the densest concentrations of American forces.
As mangled flesh flew through the air, the previously unstoppable Americans were abruptly checked. Some soldiers in the foremost Infantry Line were even so terrified that they threw themselves to the ground.
The encouraged French Army began returning fire with volleys.
Under the dense barrage of cannon and Flintlock Guns, 3,000 American forces began retreating before fewer than 1,400 French and Spanish soldiers.
The Native American "Skirmishers" who had scattered earlier also regrouped, constantly firing potshots from both flanks to wear down the Americans.
When Wayne raised his Telescope and saw the situation at the front, he could not help blurting out several words beginning with "F."
He had never expected the French to have hidden so many cannon, nor for their firepower to be so ferocious.
He immediately turned and roared at the Orderly Officer, "Order Arnold to commit the entire reserve force to the battlefield. And tell those Artillerymen that if they cannot get within range in ten minutes, I'll send every last one of them before a Military Tribunal!" "Yes, General!"
As Wayne's orders were carried out, the American forces on the main battlefield reached as many as 5,500 men.
When Wayne saw the mass of soldiers pouring toward the thin French Army position, he finally revealed a satisfied smile.