Sorry if I get a bit dramatic here, but well, war is hell and all that.
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“It would seem that De Villeroi has lost his nerve…” Megas Domestikos Mikhael Lecapenus said, as he leaned back in his chair. He had been staying at the governor’s house as a guest for the past week. He had pushed the people of Torino extremely hard when he first arrived, having them work throughout the day and night to prepare the city and surrounded region’s fortifications for the supposedly impending French attack. However it never came. Reports would suggest that the soldiers under De Villeroi were instead sent across the Rhine to stop a Austro-Prussian offensive against Metz, a French vassal that had been ‘freed’ from the Palatinate by Louis XIV only a few months earlier.
Nevertheless, Mikhael still felt that an attack on Italy was inevitable, and had the people of Torino continue to construct fortifications in hopes of repelling the French if and when they did choose to strike.
“I want spies sent into French territory to keep me informed of enemy troop movements. We won’t let them catch us off guard. I’m still not convinced that they have truly withdrawn all of their soldiers from the Italian border.” Mikhael ordered, as a soldier saluted sharply and exited the house.
“Would it not be more prudent to attack while French defenses are weak?” Domnus Tarsites questioned
“Yes, yes, go attack them while they are distracted, there is no need to lure them here, is there?” Governor Antonio Giordano questioned in a pleading voice as he approached the table that Mikhael and his commanders sat at.
“No, we have only 35,000 men. I am not confident that these numbers will be sufficient to launch any sort of effective attack against southern France.” Mikhael said sternly. Reports had indicated that a light fortress only defended the province of Savoie, but Mikhael felt that this was likely false information, the French trying to lead them into trap.
Domnus felt that the Megas Domestikos was being overly cautious. Where Mikhael saw a trap, Domnus saw only an overstretched enemy having to devote most of their army to a perceived greater threat. He was but a Lieutenant however, even after all of these years. All that he could do was follow his superior officers orders.
“Very well sir…” Domnus said reluctantly, a silent sigh escaping his mouth.
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Days passed, and still Mikhael remained convinced that a large French incursion into Italy was coming. He continued to have fortifications built in Italy, even as his spies reported no major troop movements in the area. Mikhael would always rationalize this by saying that the French would not be foolish enough to place an army on the border of Italy. Rather, they were likely hiding the army further back in an effort to tempt him to leave the safety of his fortifications.
As days became weeks, Mikhael’s commanders began to grow tired of his waiting. The Greek soldiers were also becoming anxious, wishing to engage the French in combat, rather than simply sit behind fortifications in Italy. They had been receiving stories of great battles that had been fought in Germany against the French, and against Spain in the lowlands. Eventually several commanders began to directly voice their opposition against what they called “Mikhael’s paranoia”. These men quickly found themselves dismissed and replaced with more “far sighted” individuals, however.
In the north, the French had sent a large army of nearly 60,000 against a Prussian army of around 30,000 that was besieging Metz in late June. The first part of the battle saw a clear French advantage, and it looked as if the Prussian army would soon collapse. Fortunately however, an Austrian army of 40,000 men under General Ludwig von Baden arrived before the battles end, turning the tide in favor of the allies. News of the Battle of Metz spread quickly to the soldiers waiting in Italy. Things were becoming ever more tense as the Roman army nearly demanded to engage the enemy.
Mikhael was stern in his refusal to attack however. Finally, Mikhael got his wish, and on September 17th, the French army crossed into Piedmont…
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Mikhael sat upon his horse, on a hill overlooking the two armies. His army of 35,000 was arranged in a defensive formation within the fortifications that he had built. The thick wooden palisades were positioned to exploit the Alps that the French were forced to cross in order to reach Torino. He had constructed several lines of fortifications stretching from the end of the Alps to Torino itself. The defenses were three months in the making and involved nearly the entire cities adult population, as well as many from the surrounding region.
This allowed for the Greek soldiers to retreat from a line of palisades that was about to fall, and take up a position behind another. It also rendered the legendarily powerful French cavalry nearly useless. Morale in the Roman army was high, as they were finally getting the chance to face their enemy, whom they had been denied for so long.
Mikhael turned to Domnus and nodded, “Tell them to only fall back if their palisade is certain to fall! We must inflict heavy losses on the French army for De Villerio to retreat.”
Domnus bowed his head slightly, “Very well sir.”
De Villeroi rode in the back of the French army, looking over his men as they marched towards the enemy’s well-crafted palisades. No matter, the French cannon would rip them to pieces. “Move the artillery forward! We shall blast a hole in their cowardly defenses!”
De Villeroi’s orders were quickly carried out, as several cannon were placed within firing range. They were met with a barrage of enemy cannon fire however. It would seem that they had placed their first palisade on the steep incline to give their artillery better range. Though the French artillery managed to blow several holes in the Palisades, they were eventually overwhelmed and forced to be withdrawn “Damn them! Very well then, we shall have to directly assault them.” Several of his commanders look at him dumbfounded. Was he serious? Assault them directly?
“General…that could prove to be incredibly costly…” His Lieutenant said, in his most respect voice.
“Do you see any other choice, Marcel? We must attack, before they can repair what breaches we have managed to create!” De Villeroi shouted, clenching the reins of his horse tightly. He would not tolerate insubordination!
“Very well, General…” Lieutenant Marcel said reluctantly.
With that, De Villeroi gave the order to attack the Roman army awaiting them within the palisades.
“Get ready! Here they come!” Shouted a Lokhagos to the anxious soldiers waiting behind the first line of fortifications that many had built with their own hands. The barrage by the French cannon had opened several wide gaps that they had done their best to repair, but these efforts were makeshift at best. More soldiers had been relocated to them to help hold off the enemy.
Georgios Curcuas, a simple private, was one of these men. He glanced down; his hands were shaking, not from fear per say, but from excitement, from the adrenaline rush. It felt as if his entire body was on fire, he could feel his heart racing at thought of meeting his enemy. “Here they come…” He said under his breath, as he took aim with his musket. Like most muskets, it did not have a sight, but that didn’t stop him from trying. The others could shoot blindly in one direction if they wanted; they were still killing regardless of what they told themselves.
“Steady, steady…” He whispered to himself as he took aim at a French soldier who was struggling to make it up the small hill that their palisade sat on some 80 yards away. He squeezed the trigger, causing the flint to strike the frizzen, and the small round bullet to explode from the barrel of his gun. Miraculously, the ball managed to strike his target in the jaw, ripping through his face, smashing the jawbone, and knocking nearly all of his teeth in the right side of his face out. The man collapsed screaming a pool of his own blood as Georgios’ eyes widened at the sheer horror of the scene he had caused.
“I…I hit him…” He stuttered, watching as another French soldier attempted to aid his friend, as the blood continued to pour onto the ground from his broken face. Georgios stumbled back, falling onto the ground in horror. His hands were shaking again…not from excitement, but from fear, fear of himself.
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Roman cannon continued to fire at the French soldiers below the hill, inflicting heavy losses on them as their canister shot exploded above their heads, and tore through them as they attempted to climb up the base of the hill. Still, the French army pressed onward. As they grew close to the palisade, Greek soldiers would fire directly down upon them, literally mere feet away, with obviously great accuracy. The casualties for the French were horrible, however, gradually, the palisade was weakened, and the holes made by the French cannon were breached.
As French soldiers began to break through, the commander of the first fortification ordered them to withdrawal to the second line. The Roman army quickly mounted an organized retreat back to the second palisades. Many of the French mistook this for a full rout, and eagerly pursued the Greeks. In truth, only a relatively small part of the Roman army, around 5,000 men had been stationed at the first palisade. The rest of the all was evenly distributed across the first five lines of defenses, with 10,000 reinforcements waiting behind that.
The French, even in their effort to pursue the ‘routers’, had to form some sort of organized structure after pushing through the first palisade, allowing the Greeks to put some distance between them, and make it to the fort. It also allowed Roman cannon to freely fire canister shot at the attacking French soldiers without having to worry for their own men.
French casualties continued to mount up as they wheeled their cannon forward to try and damage the Roman Palisade as much as possible. This would prove to be difficult however, as canister shot tore through many French artillery crews as they attempted to load round shot into their cannon. Though round shot had a longer range than canister shot, the second palisade was placed at such an incline as to allow its cannon to hit anything near the first, thus negating the range of the ammo. Nevertheless, several cannon were able to fire at the Greek fortifications, and create potential openings for the infantry.
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Georgios wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead as he watched the French army come towards the second palisade. In his previous state, a fellow soldier had to help him up and to the second palisade, as he was too shaken up to go under his own power. They had barely made it in. He had thought he was so ready. He had thought it would all be glorious, that he would have no problem with taking another mans life; but the blood, his screams…his suffering.
Georgios quickly shook himself out of his daze and aimed his now reloaded musket at the oncoming enemy. “Them or me…them or me…” He kept repeating under his breath as he squeezed the trigger once more, striking an oncoming Frenchmen in the right chest for a fortunately less gory death. Leaning back, Georgios sighed slightly, reloading his musket as quickly as he could.
Blood soaked the ground as French soldiers were cut down on their way towards the palisade by a combination of fire and canister shot. The screams of the dieing filled the heir, and sent a chill up the spine of many soldiers, including Georgios. He could tell the French casualties were heavy. Did their general care nothing for the lives of his men?
De Villeroi rode forward just above the first hill were the first line of Greek defenses had been broken, “Keep pushing forward you cowards! I shall have anyone who runs shot!” De Villeroi shouted as his commanders winced from his screechy voice. The French soldiers continued to press forward, finally reaching the breaches in the palisade and engaging in brutal hand-to-hand combat with bayonets.
The sound of the screaming soldiers filled Georgios’ ears, as he looked around frantically as the French soldiers poured in through the breaches, and as the Greek soldiers retreated to the third palisade. He followed them as best he could, he heart racing. A figure suddenly caught the corner of his eye however: A Frenchmen, charging directly at him, bayonet fixed. Georgios, taken off guard, quickly backed up and aimed his musket, firing a single shot that struck the man in the shin, causing him to scream in pain as he clutched the wound. Almost instinctively, Georgios rushed for, and thrust his bayonet into his stunned enemies chest. His shocked and horrified eyes gazed back at Georgios briefly, a trickle of blood sliding down from his lips, before he fell back.
“Come on!” One of his comrades shouted to him, waving for him to hurry before he was captured. Georgios shook off the feelings of guilt that swept over him and quickly followed. He, as well as most of the other Greek soldiers made it to the Palisade. Compared to the French, their losses were light. However, he could notice the effect that the constant retreats were having on their morale. Armies to did not like being pushed back, even if there was a plan for it.
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Even as the French army pushed the Greeks back, they incurred massive casualties. De Villeroi continued to demand the assault continue without rest. By the early morning of September 20th, the French had pushed the Greeks to their fifth and last line of defense, but that was as far as they would go. Exhausted, and with most of the army dead or wounded, all that was really left were 3,500 cavalry. Though the Roman Army was demoralized themselves, they still had most of their numbers intact.
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De Villeroi sat with a look of utter horror on his face. Before him were the dead and dieing bodies of his army, those who still grasped onto life unable to press on from either injuries or pure exhaustion. “I…I have to escape!” He uttered to his commanders, “Order our last cavalry to charge! I must flee!” He turned his horse around, riding west at a furious pace.
“Tell them to stay behind their palisades! We must stay on the defensive or we’ll be slaughtered!” Mikhael shouted to his commanders furiously upon hearing word that Domnus had led a force outside the fifth palisade. Domnus, for once, however did not listen to Mikhael, and took the opportunity he saw to capture the entire French army.
“Open fire!” The grizzled old man shouted to the artillery crews as they fired dozens of rounds of canister shot at the charging cavalry. The tattered French cavalry, legendary for its power and skill, were cut to pieces by the hundreds of tiny balls they flew through the air. As they grew closer, the line infantry that Domnus had assembled presented their muskets at the cavalry, and opened frire at a mere 60 yards, devastating what was left of their charging. “Fix bayonets!” He shouted as the remaining horsemen continued towards them. The Infantry absorbed their attack, and within several minutes of fighting, he broken the morale of the French cavalry, sending them fleeing.
Despite Mikhael’s orders, Domnus now had the ear of the Roman army, and ordered a detachment of 1,000 cavalry to sweep over the battlefield and capture any who remained alive. Cheers erupted from the soldiers as they watch the cavalry ride off, knowing that they had won the day.
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The battle of Torino was a decisive victory for the Roman Empire. Out of a French force of roughly 40,000, 12,000 were killed, and nearly every other soldier was wounded or captured. The Romans suffered 5,000 dead or wounded, and none were captured and retained. The destruction of the army under De Villeroi left southeastern France vulnerable to attack, however, as he had before, Megas Domestikos Mikhael refused to go on the offense, and instead ordered that the forts be rebuilt for the next “inevitable French attack”.
Near the end of the battle: Both armies demoralized, but the Romans have an overwhelming numerical advantage.
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And there you go, more soon. Hope you enjoyed.
