High Water
Cruel mother Nature, in those fearful climates,
Produces, instead of gold, iron and soldiers.
- Rhadamistus and Zenobia
Although the reinforcements had strengthened the position of Lieutenant-General Marquis
de Boissieux considerably, waiting for them had not come without cost. October and November are, on average, the wettest months of the year in Corsica. By mid-November the narrow dirt tracks which passed for roads in mountainous Corsica were streams of mud. Aside from adding to the misery of the French soldiers, it further slowed both the progress of the men and the supply trains necessary to keep thousands of soldiers fed and supplied in the mountains.
Even more critical to Boissieux's campaign was the rain's effect on the Golo River. The Golo nearly dries up in the summer, with the levels at Volpajola in Caotera falling from a spring height of around 25 m³/s (cubic meters per second) in April to less than 3 m³/s in August. Beginning in October, however, the flow begins to rise rapidly, and rebounds to around 16 m³/s in November. Because of its geography, the Golo is also very volatile, and has abnormally high flood discharge for a river of its size; its maximum instantaneous flood rates approach those of the Marne river in France despite having a basin
14 times smaller. Naturally no detailed flow measurements were made in 1739, but the winter was noted as both colder and wetter than average.
[A] As a result, while fording the river might have been practicable at certain points during the summer, it was now quite impossible. This made a handful of stone bridges into critical strategic points without which the advance could not be sustained. The nearest of these to the French positions in Caotera was a Genoese-built bridge at the village of Castello di Rostino known to locals as the "new bridge," or
Ponte Novu.
Castelli di Rostino was well known to Adjutant-General
Edward Sarsfield, Viscount Kilmallock. Following the French conquest of Lento in May, the royalists had expected to be immediately attacked by this route and Kilmallock, better known to the revolutionaries as "
Don Chimallu," had taken most of the regulars to defend it. When the blow did not come, the viscount took charge of organizing the rebels' defenses. At the time, the royalist "army" in the interior had been in disarray. With its manpower sapped by the harvest season and its commanders despondent, there was more interest in planning escape than defense. Although well supplied with arms, it was uncertain whether the royalists would have the men to wield them when the hammer finally fell.
Kilmallock kept a cooler head, but his regulars alone could not stem the tide of the French advance. In September, realizing that Kilmallock's position was vital but grossly undermanned, Captain-General Marquis
Simone Fabiani had offered him as much help as he could. With local manpower organized by Colonel
Paolo Francesco Giannoni, the commander of Rostino, Fabiani and Kilmallock organized the transfer of two 12-pdr guns to Castello di Rostino and began stockpiling ammunition. Manpower remained an issue, but Kilmallock did his best to drill Giannoni's militiamen and any other volunteers who could be gathered.
Villemur's invasion of the Castagniccia changed matters entirely. Although Ceccaldi's forces had suffered serious losses, the French conquest and the harsh policy of Villemur had turned thousands of Corsicans into refugees. Orezza could not hold them all, and many came over the pass of Stoppia Nova, bringing them to Morosaglia. Although they included many women, children, and elderly people, there were also plenty of military-age men among the refugees who feared being imprisoned or executed by the vengeful French or Genoese and were easily recruited into Fabiani's ranks with the promise of food, money, weapons, and vengeance. In early November they were joined by Colonel
Carlo Felice Giuseppe and his mountaineers, who had formerly been raiding with Rauschenburg.
The royalist plan involved splitting their force into two divisions. The first, under Theodore personally but with Kilmallock as his executive officer, would hold the bridge. This force would include all the king's regulars as it was vital that they hold their ground. The second, under Brigadier Count
Gio Giacomo Ambrosi di Castinetta, would be on the other side of the river on the slopes of Mount Tasso, in the environs of Canavaggia, and would consist entirely of militia. If the French were repulsed from the bridge, Castinetta would attack them in the rear and complete the rout; if Theodore was pushed back from Castello di Rostino, Fabiani could harass the French and attempt to delay them while the king made good his retreat.
Boissieux's advance up the Golo began on November 17th. Owing to the weather, the horrific quality of the roads, and frequent small-scale skirmishing ahead of the column, progress was slow; the French covered less than four miles per day. On the morning of the 20th, a preliminary engagement was fought between Giuseppe and the French vanguard at the confluence of the Golo and the Canavaggia tributary, a narrow choke point in the valley less than two miles from Ponte Novu. After about an hour of combat, the militia gave way to an attack of the French infantry and hussars and fled. Upon reaching Ponte Novu early in the afternoon, the leader of the vanguard, Brigadier
Louis Georges Erasme, Marquis de Contades, decided to drive off the opposition with a swift attack just as he had at the Canavaggia fork. This time, however, the Corsicans did not yield so easily. The defending force, was much larger and better prepared than Contades had anticipated, and his battalion was driven back with heavy losses.
Arriving at the fore, General Boissieux called back Contades and surveyed the situation. Not being a fool, Boissieux could immediately see the strength of the rebels' fortified position. Nevertheless, there was not much else for it but to fight. The alternative was to retreat all the way back down the Golo, which would severely harm the morale of his men (to say nothing of his career). With winter near at hand, another campaign might have to be delayed until spring. As cavalry was of little use to him here, Boissieux ordered Baron
Georges de Rattsky to send his hussars up and down the river to see if another crossing could be found. Meanwhile, the infantry was formed up on the banks to begin an assault.
The French massively outnumbered their enemies. Theodore's force on the southern bank, around 1,500 strong, faced around 4,000 French soldiers. Terrain, position, and preparation, however, were potent equalizers. The bridge itself was only wide enough for four men to walk abreast even when shoulder to shoulder, but it was also under a hundred yards long, meaning that soldiers on one bank would be within easy musket-shot of those on the opposite bank. The ability of the French to do array their troops in that manner, however, was severely limited upstream of the bridge, where the mountainside fell rather steeply into the gorge. Furthermore, with ample time to prepare the Corsicans had thrown up breastworks of earth and logs on their side of the river, giving them an advantage in such a firefight. Lastly, realizing that he had almost no trained gunners, Kilmallock had positioned his two 12-pounders only 200 yards from the opposite bank. While this exposed the gunners to enemy musketry, it also made it difficult for them to miss their targets, especially since Kilmallock had instructed them to fire ersatz canister shot made from bags of musket-balls. The result was that despite their numbers, the French could not bring them all to bear against the enemy, which was firmly entrenched in a well-fortified position.
Even as French forces were still forming up on the opposite side of the river, they were completely exposed to the fire of Corsican musketry, and as the French battalions lined up on the banks to cover the assaulting companies with volleys they were cut down in droves by gunfire and "canister" fired at point-blank range. The initial assault on the bridge was led by the French grenadiers, who despite horrifying casualties managed to press across the bridge and engage in hand-to-hand combat with the Corsican Guard. It was an astounding testament to French bravery, but it could not be sustained. The bridge soon became congested with corpses, wounded men, and those attempting to rush forward towards the bridgehead. Some of the French soldiers on the bridge, who found themselves standing in a deadly crossfire, took a knee so as to use the stone parapets as cover. This offered some protection, but it led only to further congestion. With their support slowed to a trickle, the assault of the grenadiers fell back against overwhelming Corsican numbers. Meanwhile, the battalions behind them on the banks continued to be raked by fire.
As the battle raged on the river's banks, the valley became choked with white smoke. From their observation point near Canavaggia to the north, Castinetta and his men could not get a clear picture of how the battle was progressing. Castinetta feared the worst, and believing that the king's men were in retreat, led an attack to tie up the French as had been agreed ahead of time. With around 600 men, Castinetta advanced down the
macchia-covered valleys and began firing into the rear of the French position near the bridge. Brigadier Contades hastily tried to reposition his troops, but in the pall of smoke and din of gunfire some men thought they were withdrawing rather than repositioning. In the confusion, much of the French army near the bridge began retreating eastwards and directly into the rear battalions advancing westwards. Meanwhile, the companies of grenadiers and other soldiers fighting for the Corsican bridgehead found themselves abruptly unsupported, and many surrendered.
It seems to have been around the time of Castinetta's attack that the best-known quip of the battle was uttered. According to legend, a light rain had just begun when the Corsicans unexpectedly attacked from the mountains. General Boissieux turned his horse about to address some of his officers when he was struck in the back with a musket-ball, and exclaimed "
Au diable ce temps!" ("To hell with this weather!") In truth he was not badly hurt; the wound was shallow, perhaps a ricochet. Subsequently, however, the British press caught hold of it, leading to (chiefly Anglophone) jibes about the "peculiar weather" of Corsica and the briefly fashionable use of "Corsican rain" as an idiom for heavy musket-fire.
In parallel to Castinetta's attack, Colonel Giuseppe had advanced down the Canavaggia valley further east in an attempt to fall upon the French rearguard. Unluckily, Rattsky's hussars had only just returned from scouting downriver. There was a fierce battle near the site of the day's first engagement in which the French successfully drove off the Niolesi and prevented Giuseppe from cutting off the French army.
Boissieux, realizing that the front of his force was in the midst of an unauthorized retreat, managed despite his injury to rally the army and prevent the situation from becoming a rout. There was, however, little cause for optimism. The French had suffered severe casualties, it remained unclear how many Corsicans were in the mountains to the north, and the hour was growing late. Informed by Contades that the attack across the bridge had failed, the wounded Boissieux replied "
Alors, c'est la fin," a remark that seemed equally applicable to the battle and his career. The action of the rearguard and Count Rattsky's hussars at the Canavaggia fork had at least preserved the avenue of retreat, and under Boissieux's orders the French army withdrew down the valley.
Castinetta made a halfhearted pursuit of the French and came under some criticism for its afterwards, but the French were still much more numerous than his own brigade, particularly after Giuseppe's detachment had been mauled at the fork. That night, forced to encamp in the valley, the French were further harassed by local militiamen of Rostino and Caotera. From his bed, Boissieux discussed the possibility of another attempt with his lieutenants, but after an excursion by the hussars early that morning revealed the Corsicans still held the bridge, Boissieux threw in the towel. By the 23rd, the army had largely returned to its original positions in the vicinity of Borgo and Vescovato, and was ordered to take up winter quarters.
Arguably the last hope of the November campaign lay with Comte de Montmorency, then at Pietralba with around 1,200 men, who could in theory have attacked southwards and cut Theodore's forces off from Corti as they were engaged at Ponte Novo. In this age before modern communications, however, Montmorency could not be sure of the progress of Boissieux's division on the other side of the mountains, and in any case he was preoccupied with the band of guerrillas under General
Rauschenburg who were active to his west at Moltifao. He did not seriously probe rebel defenses to the south until the 22nd, and even then advanced only to the Navaccia River, three miles from the Golo, before halting in the face of resistance from militia under Rauschenburg and Fabiani.
French losses were appalling. An apothecary recorded 369 dead and 520 wounded, while the Corsicans took about 60 prisoners. All told, nearly a quarter of the division became casualties. Corsican losses, although not recorded as precisely, were claimed (by the Corsicans) to be 100 dead and 220 wounded. Some of the Corsican casualties were alleged to have been from friendly fire caused by gunfire and artillery on the south bank hitting Castinetta's men on the slope above the opposite bank.
Neither side's command staff was unscathed. Boissieux, of course, was wounded, albeit not seriously. The most senior French officer to die was Lieutenant-Colonel
du Terme du Saux, who was killed on the bridge. Du Saux's regimental commander, the Marquis
de Crussol, was very seriously wounded and had to be carried from the field. Seven other French field officers were hit, three of them fatally. On the Corsican side, the highest-ranking officer to die was Lieutenant-Colonel
Giovan Luca Poggi, the most senior Corsican officer in the Guard, who was shot and killed at the bridgehead. A hero of San Fiorenzo and the Balagna and one of the royalists' best officers, he was sorely missed. Colonel Giuseppe was seriously wounded in the battle at the Canavaggia fork and was unable to withdraw; he evaded capture only because two of his men dragged him into a bush, where he quietly waited while the French withdrew along the road less than a hundred yards away. Captain
Clemente Paoli, with the Rostino militia, had his face split open by a grenadier's saber. He received a wicked scar and lost his sight in one eye, but otherwise recovered, and was given a hereditary knighthood by Theodore after the battle.
A reenactment parade in Castello di Rostino in 1989 celebrating the 250th anniversary of the battle.
The importance of the battle to Corsica's struggle cannot be overstated. It seems unlikely that the royalists could have recuperated from a defeat there in time to save Corti and the arsenal. For the first time, the Corsicans had faced the French army and won—not merely Villemur's 1,500-strong detached brigade at San Pellegrino, but four thousand men under Boissieux's personal command, representing more than half of all French forces then on the island. Although the rebels were unable to greatly expand their territory in the wake of the French defeat, the victory meant that the rebel-held interior would be safe at least until the coming spring.
[C]
The battle's importance for Theodore's career was just as great. His power and relevance which had crested with the arrival of the syndicate armada had been steadily slipping away since then. The Corsicans were clearly losing faith in his ability to produce miracles, and only the personal loyalty of his generals had kept his "government," and indeed the rebellion itself, from falling apart entirely. Theodore's actual role at Ponte Novo had not been great—it was Kilmallock who had prepared the site and was arguably the engineer of Corsican victory on that day. Nevertheless, Theodore had been present, visible, and scornful of danger, disdaining his bodyguards' pleas that he dismount from his horse so as to not be so great a target (as he seems to have been virtually the only man on the Corsican side who was mounted during the battle). When the enemy was vanquished, it was the king on horseback whom the soldiers and militiamen rushed to in jubilation, waving their caps, shooting off firearms, and shouting "
Evvivu u rè!" The magician had astounded his audience once again, and had led the rebellion to victory over the greatest military power in Europe. The war, however, was far from over.
Timeline Notes
[A] The European winter of 1739-40, referred to by some contemporaries as the "Great Frost," subjected much of Europe to unusually cold and wet weather (with an emphasis on the
cold). The effects of this weather are perhaps best known in Ireland, where the cold winter (followed by a spring drought) resulted in the 1740 "Year of Slaughter" in which nearly 40% of the population died. Although this climactic event was deadlier and more intense in the north of Europe than in the Mediterranean, what climate data I have managed to find indicates that even in North-Central Italy, the winter of 1739 was much colder and marginally wetter than average.
[B] I can't give you a modern picture of the intact bridge because the Germans demolished it during WW2.
[C] Although my use of Ponte Novu is a bit unoriginal, there's really not a
better place for this confrontation. The choice to defend this bridge in 1769 was not made at random. One of the best routes into the interior is the Golo valley, and Ponte Novu is obviously the key defensive point in that valley. Below it, the valley is narrow but there aren't any key bridges; above it, the valley broadens, making it less defensively valuable. So, that being the case, why did Theodore win where Paoli lost? After all, Theodore's army ITTL is much smaller than Paoli's army in early 1769. Then again, the French are a lot fewer too—the French attack on Ponte Novu in 1769 was made with some 15,000 to 22,000 men, whereas Boissieux has only four thousand. Boissieux, attacking in November, also has much less favorable weather than de Vaux, who attacked in May. The best reason, however, has to do with the fact that although he has a well-deserved reputation as a statesman, Paoli was a seriously poor general who really had no business leading troops. How exactly Ponte Novu was lost is disputed, but it seems to have been because the Corsicans were positioned on the
north bank of the river or attacked across it. Predictably defeated, they then fled back over the bridge, where they were shot to pieces by their own foreign mercenaries (who were presumably either trying to halt the retreat or save themselves from a Corsican stampede). Faced with this disaster, the remaining forces on the south bank fled. Props to whoever wrote the English Wikipedia page on the battle, which contains the understatement of the century: "Tactically the battle was something less than a model." Theodore and Kilmallock don't have to be great generals to do better than this, they just have to
not attack over a bridge they are supposed to be defending. I think it's at least possible that the Corsicans could have won Ponte Novu IOTL were it not for their catastrophically poor tactics, although I doubt it would have changed the overall outcome of the war.
