by Griff Hosker
“Stand to! French!”
My men calmly mounted their horses and drew their carbines.
“Sharp, bring me my look-see.” He handed me my telescope and, taking off my helmet, I slithered forwards across the cold rock. I focussed on the spot I had seen blue and was rewarded by the sight of French Tirailleurs moving in a column up the road. They were in two lines and they were on the opposite sides of the road. They were leaving space between them which meant they had cavalry ready to gallop through them when they spotted an enemy. I estimated that they were less than half a mile away. They would be upon the rear guard by dawn the next day at the latest.
I dropped down from the rock. “French infantry. It is their army.” I looked up at the sky, it was still clear of clouds. “We will wait and see more of the column but be ready to leave the minute I say.” As I clambered back up the rock I saw the men checking their carbines and pistols. If we were surprised then it would be the French who would get the shock.
I saw the light infantry move along the road followed by a squadron of Chasseurs. Then I saw the solid columns of infantry. This was the advance guard and the soldiers I had seen already could scatter the men Sciarpa commanded.
“Let’s ride. I think that the colonel will have his hands full by morning.”
The ride back was easier for the wind was behind us. We trotted along the road knowing that the French Infantry could make almost as good time as we could on these mountain roads. It was getting on for dusk when we saw the defensive works built by the colonel. They were not a deterrent. Sciarpa had just dragged a wagon across the road. His four artillery pieces were clustered on both sides of it. They could be easily flanked. The two thousand militia men he had appeared to be just camped behind the primitive breastwork. Had we been French cavalry then we would have slaughtered them already.
The Lieutenant at the barrier grinned at me. I wiped the smile from his face with my words. “Lieutenant, there is a French column a mile or so down the road. I would get your men at their defences.”
The smile left his face and we rode through the barrier. Sergeant Grant gave a derisory laugh, “We could have jumped that and what idiot puts his guns that close together?”
He spoke for all of us. We had fought alongside and against artillery pieces. Correctly placed they could be lethal but badly placed they could lose you the battle.
“Lieutenant, get a camp erected and some food on the go.”
James looked surprised, “We are staying?”
“You want to abandon them then?”
“Well, no sir, but shouldn’t we get them pulled back? There are too many French.”
“It is too late for that. These people do not move quickly. If they were caught on the road then they would be slaughtered. They have a chance here, slim, but a chance all the same. We will do what we can to help them but I will not risk our men for these fools.”
Colonel Sciarpa was sat at a table eating with his captains and majors. He smiled at me as I rode up. “Yes Captain?”
“There is a strong French column. They are less than two miles away. Infantry, cavalry and artillery.”
He paled. “But…”
“Call the men to arms.”
“We have only just begun to eat!”
There was no arguing with logic like this. “If you and your men wish to eat I would suggest that you take your food to the barricade and eat there. I would also suggest you send a rider to the general. He will need to be informed. The French may not be here until morning but they could arrive in the next hour or so.”
It was as though he had not thought that he would be called into action. He nodded, “Yes that is a good idea.” He turned to his officers. “You heard the Englishman. Go!” As they ran off in all directions he asked, “Will they come tonight?”
“They will probe for weaknesses. If they can they will attack but, if not, they will wait until they have their whole force ready and they will attack in the morning.” He nodded. “Make sure your men have clean muskets and plenty of ammunition. They will need it. Your officers will need to be firm.”
“When the French come they will send in their light infantry. They will swarm like flies. They will not stand in straight lines and shoot at you. Your officers must wait until their men cannot miss and fire volleys. If they do that then you and your men have a chance. But the quality of your officers will decide the outcome of this action.”
His back stiffened. “They are all loyal and they will defend this pass with honour.”
I somehow doubted that honour would help them over much but I nodded and rode to the camp. The men had fires going and were boiling some of the snow which had gathered in the crevasses of the mountains with bouillon and dried meat. It would be warm and sustaining.
I gathered the sergeants and Lieutenant Jackson around me. “After we have eaten I want one man in four to take the horses down the valley about half a mile. The rest of us will be along the barrier. I am not certain that their pickets will be able to do much. I want our eyes and ears to warn us of an attack.”
Sergeant Grant nodded, “They’ll send some of their light infantry tonight. Try to slit a few throats and disable the guns.”
“You are right Sergeant Grant. Hell, they might even attack tonight but I suspect they will wait until morning. Their column will be strung out all along the road.”
I heard the militia grumbling as they took up their positions. There were a lot of men and they were just covering the middle four hundred yards. The flanks were unguarded. I went to Colonel Sciarpa, “You need to spread your men out more. They can be flanked.”
He shook his head and smiled. “They will not come tonight and my men will have to sleep at their posts. They will be warmer and we can spread out more in the morning. Do not worry, Englishman, you have done your duty. I am grateful.”
Exasperated I sought out Lieutenant Jackson, “Take half of the men and cover the left flank. If I were the French I would try to infiltrate that way. I will do the same with the right flank. Take Sergeant Grant with you. I will keep Jones with me. Listen for the bugle call but, if you think you are going to be overrun then get out of there. Understand?”
“Yes sir.”
I led my men away. With seven horse holders staying with the horses, that left just twenty men each to guard the flanks. I hoped it would be enough.
When we reached our position, a rocky patch of rising ground with some large boulders and scrubby bushes, we saw the unmistakeable blue of the French column. They had arrived. The Neapolitans began to jeer the French. It was foolish; they were too far away and it would not bother them anyway. Still if it bolstered their resolve then so much the better.
“Sergeant Dale, divide the men into pairs. One sleeps and the other one watches. You and Bugler Jones form one pair. I’ll take Sergeant Sharp. I think they will send men tonight to test us. They might crawl up close in the dark.”
“Right sir.”
“First or second watch Sergeant Sharp?”
“It’s up to you sir.”
“Right then I will sleep now. Wake me in two hours.”
It was freezing cold and the ground was hard. I just had my cloak and a blanket and yet, as soon as my head touched the ground, I was asleep. I dreamt but the dream dissolved into nothing when I was suddenly woken by Sharp. “Is it that time already Sergeant?”
He whispered, “No sir. Dick heard something. It might be the French.” I was going to ask a question when he added, “The lads are all awake.”
“Good.” I grabbed my carbine and primed it. Peering out in the dark I could see nothing but my eyes were not yet accustomed to the dark. I used my ears as I allowed my night vision to return. I could just hear the snores coming from the militia. I hoped that the colonel had impressed upon his men the need to keep a good watch.
Suddenly I saw a shadow move about a hundred yards or so in front of our lines. Our slightly elevated position gave us an advantage for we were looking down o
n the valley. Once I had seen one Tirailleur I soon saw the rest. There appeared to be about a company in strength. They were small quick men who were adept at this sort of thing. They were too far away for us to guarantee a hit. I did not need to give orders to my men. They would know what to do.
Corporal Jones sidled up to me, “Sergeant Dale reckoned you might need me sir.”
“Good man. When I start to fire then give the call, stand to.”
“Yes sir.”
I noticed that he had his carbine ready. He would join in the firing when his call was done.
The shadows had gone to ground. I assumed they were slithering along on their bellies. The quiet of the cold night was broken by one scream and then another. They were amongst the militia. I aimed at a crouching shadow and yelled, “Fire!” My carbine cracked and the bugle sounded. A line of flashes erupted next to me. As I reloaded I saw a line of flashes on the opposite side of the valley; Lieutenant Jackson had kept his wits about him. The shadow fell and I aimed at a kneeling shadow with a musket. He too fell. Our fire was beginning to take its toll. Suddenly there was a ripple of musket fire along the front of the militia and I saw the shadows begin to run away. When they had gone a hundred and fifty yards I shouted, “Cease fire.” The bugle sounded but the militia kept popping away and wasting powder. The target was out of range and too small to hit with their muskets. We had, however, driven them off. The militia cheered as though they had won the battle.
“Right Sharp. Get your head down. I’ll wake you in two hours.”
He knew me too well to argue and he was soon snoring. Trooper Jones went back to the sergeant and I watched. I could hear the moans of the dying Frenchmen. The moaning did not last long for a militiaman would creep out and there would be a scream of pain and then silence. Soon the silence of the night returned.
I managed a couple of hours sleep and then it was dawn. I summoned Jones. “Sound, ‘horse holders’. We might as well keep our horses close by.”
As the notes rang out in the valley I saw that the French soldiers had been stripped naked and mutilated. It was a mistake. The French would wreak vengeance on the militia for what they had done. I heard the French bugles and drums. It would not be long now.
“Sergeant Dale, get the men fed and I will see the colonel.”
Colonel Sciarpa greeted me warmly. “You see Captain. We drove them back.” He nodded his approval. “Your guns were effective. Thank you.”
“I’d save your thanks for later. They are coming. Do your gunners have the range?”
I could see that he had no idea from the blank look on his face. “They are good gunners.”
I looked at the ancient four and six pounder cannon. If they had not marked the range then they would waste shot but it was too late now for a lesson. “Good luck colonel.”
“We do not need luck, Englishman. God is on our side and the land will help us too. You will see the French driven back over the pass believe me.”
I rejoined my men and Sergeant Sharp handed me a mug of bouillon and a piece of bread. He nodded towards the militia. “Some of the Neapolitans sent this over. Seems they liked our guns last night.”
Looking at the position of the bodies it was obvious that we had killed most of the attackers. I turned as the hooves of the horses thundered and skittered across the rocks. We now had the means to escape if we had to. I was confident that we would need to. James would need his wits about him on the north side of the valley. At least he had George Grant with him. He had a calm head on his shoulders.
I took out my telescope. Reynier was sending four battalions of light infantry and the light infantry of the foot regiments. It was like a swarm of ants. Reynier was being clever. It was the perfect attack against artillery. Behind them I saw two regiments of Chasseurs preparing to follow. Neither target would be easy to hit. I just hoped that the Neapolitans had plenty of canister and case shot.
The cannons began firing far too early. The hard ground meant that the balls bounced and moved off line easily. Any hits would be lucky. With only four guns it was easy to approach the Neapolitan lines especially as the guns were firing independently. I saw a handful of Frenchmen fall, each death greeted by a cheer of victory. Still they came on. The Neapolitans opened fire with their muskets at two hundred yards range. It wasted powder and clogged the guns. The rate of reloading and the lack of volleys also meant that the firing was ineffective. The light infantry raced forward and stopped at a hundred yards. They began to kneel and fire. They were aiming at the gunners.
I shouted to Jones, “Sound open fire!” The strident notes echoed off the valley walls. I aimed at a sergeant a hundred and twenty yards away. He fell clutching his arm. Soon my men were trying to pick off the officers and sergeants but the damage had been done. The gunners fell like flies and the ones who remained took shelter beneath their guns and behind their caissons.
Suddenly I heard the drum beat of the pas de charge. The four battalions of infantry roared and leapt forwards. The militia had no response. Many of them had clogged guns, others were in the process of reloading while others panicked and fired too high. I saw the Chasseurs riding to support their comrades. I watched in horror as the Neapolitans began to flee down the road. The battle was over and they had lost.
“Jones, sound fall back.”
As the bugle called I grabbed Badger’s reins from Sharp and hauled myself in the saddle. I fired one last shot from my carbine and then clipped it to its sling. “Fall back.” We had the advantage that we were on the side of the valley. The militia found their way clogged by equipment, tents and their comrades. We trotted along the side of the mass of fleeing soldiers. I saw them throw weapons to the ground in their panic to escape. It was a disaster. Four guns had been lost already and the French had barely lost a man.
Our horses soon overtook the leading elements and I headed for the road. I was relieved when James joined me. “Any casualties, Lieutenant?”
“Corporal Lows was hit by a chip of rock but he can still fight.” He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. “Disaster eh?”
“And it is not over yet.” As I watched I saw the Chasseurs fall amongst the militia. It was a light horseman’s dream to chase fleeing men. I saw Colonel Sciarpa struck in the head by a sabre. His inert body was trampled by the horses which followed.
“Skirmish line. Let’s discourage them.” We formed a wall of horseflesh and the militia milled around our flanks. When the Chasseurs were just fifty yards away I shouted, “Fire!” I emptied all four pistols in the blink of an eye. The road was filled with smoke but the Chasseurs were halted. “Jones, sound fall back!”
Even as the bugle sounded and the men began to retreat I saw one Chasseur, luckier and more foolhardy than the rest had made it through the wall of lead. I drew my sword and charged forward. I remembered the sabre that my opponent used. It was not a good weapon. As he slashed at my body I hacked at his sword and it shattered. He held the broken hilt, with a surprised expression on his face and as I back slashed at him I felt my sword cut to his backbone. Before his comrades could react I joined my men in the retreat.
Chapter 14
Although we watched for pursuit we saw none. Occasionally we were overtaken by militia who had acquired horses but there were fewer of those the further south we went. The two thousand men of the rear guard had been merely militia but their numbers might have made the difference when the French finally caught up with the Neapolitan army. I do not think that they suffered calamitous casualties but they had lost their guns and they had lost their cohesion. Naples was all the weaker for that.
I was relieved to see that the general had a good defensive position. Campotenese had to be approached through a narrow valley. The escape route, however, was also a narrow gap. I saw, as I drew closer, that the general had built three redoubts and filled the valley with lines of men. I saw nine battalions in his front line and his cavalry just behind. The cannon could fire over the heads of his men. It was a good positi
on. There was however a major drawback which Bugler Jones spotted. “Sir, there are no men on the mountainsides. It will be like Lagonegro all over again.”
“Yes Bugler, I had noticed that but some of these troops are regulars. The front line looks strong. I do not think this army will fold as easily as the one we just left.”
“I think you are being optimistic, Lieutenant Jackson. If the French artillery gets to work then those redoubts will not last long and they have now captured four more guns. Anyway I need to report to the General. Lieutenant, find somewhere for us to camp. I’ll go with Sergeant Sharp and find General de Damas.”
After many questions I found the General inspecting his redoubts. “Where is Colonel Sciarpa and his men?” His face showed that he knew the answer to his own questions already.
“Dead at Lagonegro.”
If I had slapped his face I could not have had a more dramatic response. “And his men? How many survived?” His voice was quiet; almost as though he didn’t want the answer.
“At least three hundred are dead and the rest just ran. If you are lucky then some of them may find their way here. He lost your guns too.”
“What happened?”
“He made the same mistake you are making. He did not protect his flanks.” I pointed to the hills and mountains surrounding them. “The French Light Infantry attacked where he had no men. There are no men there.” I was being as blunt and explicit as I could be. Perhaps I should have been more diplomatic; it did not sit well with the young general.
De Damas coloured. He waved an angry hand towards the mountains. “The land protects us. No one save a goat could get over those mountains could they?”
I nodded, “They could and if they can then the Tirailleurs and Voltigeurs probably will.”
He began chewing on his fingernail as he stared at the mountain. “We have no troops trained in that sort of thing.”
“You must have some local men who work in the mountains. Use them.”