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The first engagement on the morning of the 23rd was just after dawn, when a company of Rattsky's hussars scouting down the Regino Valley encountered a band of rebel soldiers encamped near the hamlet of l'Alzeta.[1] If the Corsicans were intended to be a picket or scouting element, they did not do their jobs well, and were taken quite by surprise; the hussars charged before their opponents could get a proper volley off, cutting down two dozen men and scattering the rest into the woods. It was an inauspicious beginning for the Corsicans, who had been driven back on the previous day and were now preparing to receive another assault.

Maréchal de camp Rousset's plan for the day was uncomplicated. The previous day had been his first encounter with the Corsicans, and he was not terribly impressed. True, they had held San Antonino, but Rousset seems to have ascribed this more to miscommunication and rivalry between Contades and Montrosier than any particular strength of the rebels or their commanders. The Corsicans had been easily forced from their positions in the south and completely taken in by his bluff in the north. They were clearly no match for disciplined and courageous Frenchmen, and so Rousset sent out orders for a broad attack all along the line; his officers were to hit the Corsicans everywhere, break their spirits, and drive them from their positions. To minimize any questions of jurisdiction between Contades and Montrosier, he gave them distinct tasks; Contades would resume the attack on San Antonino, the hinge of the rebel line, and Montrosier would advance down the valley towards Rauschenburg's suspected position. Meanwhile, the Marquis d'Avaray would attack Fabiani's northern position and would overcome any superior numbers by virtue of the quality of his troops, a few companies of reinforcements from Sasselange's brigade under Major Salnoue, and artillery support from Major Gouville's 4-pounder battery.[2] Rousset himself advanced his command post to a low hill west of Praoli, which gave him a vantage point on both Fabiani's northern position and San Antonino.

Following the skirmish at l'Alzeta, the hussars located Rauschenburg's main body. He had arrayed his troops in a position guarding the flank of San Antonino on the valley floor in a patchwork of fields, olive orchards, and marshy streams. Rattsky ordered his men to maintain contact while Montrosier advanced, and engaged in some desultory skirmishing with the Corsicans to little effect on either side. The battle proper, however, began first in the north, and was opened by the sound of Gouville's battery opening fire.

The first serious infantry engagement was on the ridge, where Crussol's Île-de-France regiment and the Auvergne second battalion under Major Chamontin advanced on San Antonino from the south and west. As on the previous day, the hilltop town—Rousset's report described it as a "fortress," although it had no military architecture as such—proved a formidable position, forcing the French to scramble over rocky terrain and giving the Corsicans plenty of walled terraces and streets to use as parapets from which to pour fire down upon them. As in the previous afternoon, the engagement moved into close quarters, and according to legend local villagers hurled stones and roof tiles down on French soldiers attempting to push into the town. With their lines disrupted by the terrain as well as the walls and streets, the French soon lost their cohesion and were bloodily repulsed. Briagier di Muro, who after his humiliating defeat in the previous day was eager to face down rumors of cowardice, insisted on taking to the front and was seriously wounded.

In the north, d'Avaray's forces engaged the Corsicans, but after several volleys the marquis discovered that he was merely trading fire with a screening element of militia. Lieutenant-Colonel Drevitz had decided to withdraw his foreign regiment further up the hill with the start of the artillery bombardment, and partially screened as they were by woods much of Gouville's bombardment thus far had been wasted on thinly-spread militia skirmishers. D'Avaray, not wishing to make the same mistake that had cost the French the earlier Battle of Corbara, advanced slowly to allow Gouville to move up his guns, although at the cost of letting his men stand under the sporadic but reasonably accurate fire of the militia in the woods.


Rousset had hoped that the attacks all down the line would be similarly timed, but he had not counted on Rauschenburg withdrawing nearly three miles down the valley. As a result, by the time Montrosier's infantry encountered the enemy and deployed into lines, the French forces further north had already been engaged for nearly two hours. Montrosier faced the largest opponent, numerically speaking, but Rauschenburg's command was also the only section of the Corsican line with no regular troops; his highland militia were hardy men, but had little training in "conventional" tactics. Most were not equipped with bayonets, and those who had them were untrained in their use. Rauschenburg's attempt to face Montrosier in a classic line battle failed spectacularly, as the serried ranks of Frenchmen marched unflinchingly through the rebels' ragged musket-fire, responded with thunderous and well-disciplined volleys, and then charged with cold steel. The Corsican line quickly disintegrated, and soon Rattsky's hussars were riding up the field with bared sabers to hunt down the rebels put to flight.

By this time Contades had already begun another assault on San Antonino, and Chamontin's battalion was ordered to flank around the ridge to the north of the village. This stroke was parried only by the intervention of Giuliani's battalion of militia, which Fabiani had withdrew from the northern front the previous evening as a reserve. Giuliani flanked Chamontin's troops and forced them to withdraw and reform, causing Crussol to abort his frontal attack on the village as it was now unsupported. To the north, d'Avaray was making steady progress but was continuing to take casualties. He had come to grips with Drevitz's foreigners, who offered a decent enough resistance but ultimately fell back in the face of continued artillery bombardment. Fabiani, too, had several guns at Corbara, and of larger caliber, but while these provided some counter-battery fire of middling effectiveness the gunners found that supporting Drevitz was not possible given the rough and forested terrain and the difficulty of sufficiently depressing their guns.

By noon, the Coriscans were hard-pressed on the ridge and had totally given way in the south; a greater slaughter of Rauschenburg's men was averted only by the marshy ground, which made the going difficult for the hussars, and the retreat of the militia into the woods where they had some protection. Colonel Cervoni distinguished himself, retiring with his men up the wooded slopes of the Capo del Bujo where they managed to drive off a hussar company and force several French infantry companies to wheel about from the main attack to confront them. Returning to traditional guerrilla tactics, Cervoni's Niolesi militia melted away into the mountains, eluding capture or destruction.

Now aware of the disaster in the south and with his own command post at the Convent of Corbara taking sporadic musket and cannon fire, Fabiani realized the necessity of a retreat and concentrated his efforts on trying to extricate as much of his force as possible from the ridge. Battisti was ordered to spike and destroy his few artillery pieces, which were too heavy to retreat with. Kilmallock led a withdrawal from San Antonino down the back side of the hill, a more difficult transit than moving across the ridge but one which masked his retreat from the view of Contades. A third and final French assault on San Antonino was like kicking down an open door; to the surprise of Crussol, who led the attack, the defenders had vanished.

A desperate and bloody battle was now fought in the woods northeast of San Antonino. Kilmallock had withdrawn his command into this small and steep-sided valley to escape from Contades, but hundreds of militia from Rauschenburg's command had also fled this way from the south. It had the makings of a deathtrap, and the Corsicans suffered heavy casualties as Montrosier's infantry attempted to push their way in. Colonel Caponi, of Rostino, was wounded and captured. Ultimately, however, many of the Corsicans fled up the valley and back up onto the ridge, where Giuliani's men and elements from other regular and militia units fought a successful delaying action against Crussol while the rest of the army retired. They were aided by the fact that d'Avaray had led his main force to Corbara instead of swinging south in the hopes of taking the Corsican artillery, while Textorix's battalion was still reorganizing from the battle in the woods and did not push up the valley in a timely enough manner to stop Giuliani from disengaging.

The retreating rebel battalions converged at Santa Reparata di Balagna. Fabiani briefly considered making a stand here, but the Corsicans were in disorder and there was a general feeling of panic. Keeping only a picked group of regulars and Balagnese militia, Fabiani made his way to Isola Rossa, while the remainder of the Corsican army retreated (some would say "fled") east under Kilmallock. The French did not effectively arrest this retreat; Montrosier's command was too dispersed and disorganized, Contades' battalions were bloodied and exhausted, d'Avaray had turned his force north towards Corbara, and Rattsky's hussars, the men most able to harass the rebel retreat, had been pursuing the flight of some of Rauschenburg's men down the Regino valley and were too far away to assist.

It was a decisive defeat for the Corsicans, and the most serious they had suffered since Theodore's arrival. Not only had they lost more than a thousand men (albeit probably more to flight and desertion than outright deaths), but the loss of the Balagna, the island's most productive province, now seemed all but certain. Isola Rossa had no serious fortifications aside from a few coastal defense towers, and Fabiani decided that evening that with Corbara in French hands a defense of the port was not feasible. As the French Navy was standing guard offshore, he organized an evacuation by land, taking as many valuables and military stores as his men and civilian volunteers could carry and withdrawing eastwards. Rousset, who believed the Corsicans would try and defend the town, did not actually launch an attack until the 25th, two days after his victory, by which point Fabiani was long gone.

Montrosier was the hero of the day, gaining an overwhelming victory in the south with a textbook demonstration of superior French discipline and élan. Rousset gave him his personal commendation, but this aroused the jealousy of Contades, Montrosier's superior officer, who felt that Montrosier's failure to support him against San Antonino on the first day of the battle had been motivated by Montrosier's glory-seeking and contributed to Contades' lackluster performance against the rebel strong point in the center. Baron Rattsky also came under some criticism for his "overzealous" pursuit in the Regino valley and his failure to keep in contact with Rousset's command, but to some extend any failings of his were attributed to the "unruly" nature of the Hungarians.

The victory probably saved the career of the Marquis de Boissieux, who had been under increasing criticism back home for his "lenient" treatment of the rebels and his failure up to this point to decisively defeat them. He had shown that he could wield the iron fist as well as the velvet glove, and had recovered the French honor which had been lost at Madonna della Serra and Corbara; his previous demands that he needed reinforcements to deliver a sound blow to the rebels now seemed to be vindicated. Boissieux, however, had not yet given up on conciliation, and even as his other brigades executed their missions elsewhere on the island he sent out new missives to the rebels, hoping that their defeat in the Balagna had been sufficient to shake their resolve. Meanwhile, the French had lost the better part of a battalion's worth of troops over the course of the two-day battle (including killed and wounded). Some of those wounded, of course, would eventually recover, but Boissieux could not replace his losses without appealing for more reinforcements from France, something he was loathe to do unless it was truly necessary.

The battle and the loss of the Balagna were difficult blows for the Corsicans in general and Theodore in particular. There were, however, bright spots in the conduct of the Corsicans in battle. The Guard had defended San Antonino against all attack, withdrawing only when Fabiani gave the order, which demonstrated that properly trained and equipped Corsican soldiers under experienced officers could successfully stand up to the French. Heroic defenses and rearguard actions by Cervoni, Giuseppe, Poggi, and Balisone over the course of the battle displayed the high caliber of Corsican field officers and their ability to organize fighting retreats, always a difficult maneuver and one which was to prove extremely useful as the war went on.

The lesson learned by the Corsican generals at the battle—Fabiani, Kilmallock, and Rauschenburg—was that save under very favorable circumstances with well-trained troops, like at San Antonino, they could not face French infantry on French terms and expect to win. Rauschenburg in particular had been humiliated by his defeat, but irregular warfare was more in his wheelhouse anyway, and the shift in strategy after the Battle of the Balagna suited him well.[A] Ahead, however, loomed the prospect of the invasion of the Nebbio, and fighting was still raging in the east, where Lieutenant-General Count Andrea Ceccaldi squared off against the Marquis de Villemur, arguably Boissieux's most talented brigadier.

Footnotes
[1] French hussar squadrons were divided into two companies each, so this represents a unit of about 50 horsemen.
[2] Colonel D'Avaray was technically part of Contades' brigade, but he had autonomous command of the French left as Contades was present with the forces in the center attacking San Antonino.

Timeline Notes
[A] The early life of Johann Friedrich von Neuhoff zu Rauschenburg is unknown, or at least I haven't been able to discover anything about him, including any earlier military service. He very well could have been a junior officer somewhere, which would be a fairly common career path for a minor German baron with a meager estate. It seems safe to assume he never had high command, and thus even in a "best-case" scenario Rauschenburg was probably promoted directly from Lieutenant to Lieutenant-General. One should hardly be surprised that in his first major battle as a senior officer, in a foreign country and leading foreign militiamen against French regulars, he falls on his face. Yet historically he held out in the mountains as a guerrilla leader for nearly a year after the whole country had fallen to the French. This is clearly not a man devoid of military talent; he's just more of a Che Guevara than a Napoleon.