Chapter 206: The Guards Corps' First Battle
Tunis City.
In the Kâhil Palace, Bey Hammuda Ali was beaming with joy as he listened to the battle report from the front lines.
Initially, he had been genuinely anxious when he learned that Younis had truly returned to Tunisia. Thankfully, his beloved concubine Hafsa was exceptionally clever, having predicted that Younis would risk a surprise attack on Kairouan.
With his order for Koja to prepare in advance, they indeed achieved a great victory, capturing and killing thousands of rebels.
Several officials in the grand hall immediately showered him with flattery:
"Isn't it effortless for the great Bey to deal with these rebels?"
"The Lord blesses the Bey, making his army invincible!"
"After Younis is eliminated, the Algerians will no longer be able to extort our annual tribute!"
Ali returned to his harem, brimming with delight, eager to tell Hafsa about the great victory.
"Bey, a wild ox, once bitten by a lion, becomes ten times more ferocious than usual, even capable of goring the lion. Although you have defeated Younis once, you must not let down your guard. I believe now, more than ever, we need to increase our forces and strive to eliminate the rebels as quickly as possible."
Although Ali admired her for accurately predicting the rebels' movements twice before, he was rather dismissive this time. According to the battle report Koja had just sent back, Younis now had only a little over 4,000 troops remaining. After his initial rebellion, he had suffered a swift defeat, so he shouldn't be able to stir up any significant trouble.
He casually brushed off his beloved concubine's concerns, then resumed the music and dancing.
However, as if Hafsa were possessed by a prophet, just five days later, grim news arrived from the front.
Koja had gathered an army of 13,000 to besiege Younis, but was unexpectedly struck hard by the latter's cannons.
The battle report stated that these cannons had an extremely long range and astonishing power. A dozen salvos caused heavy casualties to Koja's vanguard.
Furthermore, Younis had somehow acquired a large number of excellent muskets, wielding extremely fierce firepower. Under the cover of his cannons, he shattered Koja's encirclement in just a few hours and pursued him all the way out of the Chouikri Valley.
After this battle, the Janissaries under Koja no longer dared to engage Younis. Currently, Koja could only confront Younis from within the Kairouan fortress.
Hammuda Ali now looked at Hafsa with nothing but profound admiration. He immediately followed her advice, dispatching the 3,000 garrison troops from Tunis City to Kairouan, and simultaneously allocating 20,000 riyals to Koja for military expenses.
Yet, in front of the Kairouan fortress, Younis, fresh from his victory, wore a solemn expression.
A week ago, just as the French advisor had predicted, a French transport ship arrived at Sfax port, bringing 2,000 Charleville Flintlock Muskets, 4 six-pounder cannons, and 15,000 ducats.
He quickly reorganized his army with these weapons and funds, then cleanly shattered Koja's siege, driving Koja all the way into the Kairouan fortress.
However, he found himself greatly troubled by the formidable fortress and the tens of thousands of Tunisian Janissaries guarding it.
If he had more gunpowder and cannonballs, he was confident he could storm the fortress, or at least suppress the defenders enough to prevent them from showing their heads, allowing him to bypass it and advance directly to Sousse.
But he now had only four cartloads of ammunition left, which was nowhere near enough to bombard the fortress. And there was no telling when the French would send their next resupply.
A few days later, Hammuda Ali's reinforcements arrived at Kairouan first. Koja immediately led his army in another fierce assault on Younis's forces...
While Koja and Younis were engaged in a protracted struggle, over a dozen transport ships carrying the French Crown Prince's Guards Corps, escorted by the combined anti-pirate fleet, appeared outside the Port of Bizerte in Tunisia.
This was Tunisia's northernmost port, a significant stronghold for Barbary pirates—or rather, the base for the Tunisian Navy.
A small boat lowered from the combined fleet's flagship, the Advance, carrying the negotiating officer ashore at the Port of Bizerte.
He presented the local Bizerte officials with a list numbering several hundred individuals, demanding that these pirates be handed over to the combined fleet within 24 hours. Furthermore, the pirate ships they used for raiding must also be taken away by the combined fleet.
After 24 hours, the combined fleet would personally apprehend any pirates who had not surrendered.
This list was provided by Hammuda Ali's nephew, Haj. Every person on it had engaged in the murder and plunder of Europeans—deeds considered achievements within the Tunisian Navy, making them easy for internal sources to verify.
Unsurprisingly, the combined fleet's demands were rejected.
Most of the pirates on the list were local Bizerte military officers; many even held considerable influence throughout Tunisia. How could they willingly 'surrender themselves'?
On the Port of Bizerte's battery, a Tunisian naval officer gazed at the vaguely visible warships of the combined fleet in the distance, saying nervously:
"Why are these Catholic nations making such a huge fuss this time? What exactly do they want?"
Another nodded, "Indeed, there's no room for negotiation at all."
Based on their past experience, even if they accidentally damaged merchant ships from France, Spain, or other nations, they could usually smooth things over by paying a small sum.
They had never before encountered a situation like today, with warships looming, immediately issuing an ultimatum and demanding immediate surrender of individuals.
The officer next to him twirled his handlebar mustache and said:
"I think the Americans instigated this. A few months ago, Pargale raided two of their ships and killed a dozen people."
"This time, they seem serious," an officer said, raising his telescope, looking very worried. "I see 60-gun heavy warships."
The one with the handlebar mustache scoffed dismissively:
"Hmph, what's there to fear? Even if they're first-rates, they'll just cruise outside the harbor at most. We have shore batteries, after all."
Another officer nodded:
"That's right. If commercial traffic in the port stops, they'll suffer significant losses too. I think in the end, it'll just be about paying compensation, perhaps a little more than usual."
However, regardless of what the pirates thought, the Port of Bizerte still had the air of an impending storm. Uninvolved merchant ships, especially European ones, raised anchor without hesitation, departing from the trouble zone.
On the sea, in the officers' cabin of the Advance, Berthier looked at the negotiating officer, his expression calm:
"As expected, it seems we'll have to apprehend those pirates ourselves."
Combined Fleet Commander Major General Cisneros let out a soft sigh and said:
"Lieutenant Colonel, while I still don't entirely agree with storming the port, I will still provide as much fire support as possible for your troops."
Although he had received orders from the Navy to "strike the Barbary pirates with full force," no one had told him before that this included attacking a heavily fortified major port.
He had always assumed it was a matter of taking the allocated funds, cruising around the Mediterranean a few times, and capturing some pirates to deal with the Americans.
But after meeting Berthier this time, the latter produced an order from the Minister of the Navy, informing him that the goal was to capture the Port of Bizerte, a pirate base.
This order had naturally been procured by Joseph from the Marquis de Castries. For the Marquis, striking pirates had been approved by the Queen in a cabinet meeting, and the storming of the port was being handled by Berthier's corps, making it none of his concern. The Navy's role was merely to transport troops and provide artillery support from the periphery. Why wouldn't he seize this opportunity to do the Crown Prince a favor?
Major General Cisneros continued:
"You understand, we cannot approach the batteries too closely... so, your corps may have to face those heavy cannons alone."
"Rest assured, General," Berthier nodded. "I have confidence in my men."
The landing strategy had been planned long in advance. After chatting with several naval officers for a while longer, Berthier rose and returned to his transport ship. Tomorrow, from there, he would lead the corps' soldiers to storm the pirates' stronghold.
The next morning, 10 transport ships lined up outside the Port of Bizerte. The soldiers of the Crown Prince's Guards Corps were arrayed on deck, silently watching as sailors successively lowered landing craft into the water.
Aboard the transport ship "Stallion", Berthier walked past the assembled men, nodding earnestly to each soldier. Then, he moved to the front of the ranks, forcefully pointed towards the nearby coastline, and declared loudly:
"There, is where we shall achieve unparalleled glory!
"Soldiers, I will be with you as we use our indomitable courage and conviction to crush these cowardly pirates, delivering them to God's judgment!
"Now, let the world bear witness to the fearlessness and valor of French warriors! Go forth and seize your victory; simply charge forward and crush all opposition!"
He took a deep breath, raised his arm, and shouted:
"For the King! For the Crown Prince! For Glory!"
The soldiers immediately erupted in a thunderous roar:
"For the King! For the Crown Prince! For Glory!"
The sound carried to the other transport ships, where soldiers also began to shout:
"For the King! For the Crown Prince..."
At 10 AM, the Crown Prince's Guards Corps officially began its debut operation.
The soldiers skillfully slid down ropes into the small boats—a movement they had practiced hundreds of times before arriving—then immediately grabbed their oars and began to row vigorously.
Dozens of small boats shot towards the shore like arrows released from a bow.
On the port's battery, a lookout quickly spotted movement on the sea and promptly reported to the officers.
Over a dozen Tunisian officers gathered, discussing anxiously—they had never expected the fleet outside the harbor to actually attempt a landing operation.
"What do we do now? Should we open fire on them with cannons?"
"Where is Pasha Ayas? Without his orders, to rashly fire on the French—who knows what consequences that might trigger!"
Ayas was the highest-ranking officer responsible for guarding the port.
"He seems to be in his..." The officer almost blurted out 'those female slaves' before hastily correcting himself, "I've already sent someone to report to him."
It wasn't that Ayas was entirely unprepared; he had been somewhat nervous after receiving the ultimatum yesterday. However, the traditional customs of Ottoman officers—descendants of conquerors from over a century ago, who maintained distinct lifestyles and military practices by avoiding intermarriage with local North Africans to preserve their lineage—led him to return to his villa in town for the night, a few kilometers away from the port.
The laxity of the Tunisian officers reduced the Guards Corps' casualties. During what should have been a very dangerous beach landing, the port's batteries remained silent, and the first wave of landing craft had already surged onto the beachhead.
A few hundred meters away, the pirates' defensive obstacles were visible: sharpened wooden stakes, driven into the ground, forming four or five rows that almost covered the entire beach.
Behind the obstacles, hundreds of Tunisian naval soldiers stood, holding various muskets, nervously watching the coastline.
Davout, part of the first assault wave, leapt from his small boat, then turned back to wave at the soldiers of his company, shouting:
"Quick! Disembark, form ranks! What are you dawdling for? Have you forgotten how to run?"
As his standard-bearer planted the flag on the beachhead, dozens of soldiers from nearby small boats quickly converged around him. The Guards Corps' rigorous daily training was fully evident at this moment; in barely ten minutes, they had formed neat three-rank lines and began loading their ammunition.
Several other soldiers carried a small cannon, only knee-high, placing it on the left flank of the formation. Those behind them pried open wooden crates filled with cannonballs and arranged them in front of the gun.
Only then did Tunisian commander Ayas's military order reach the battery. Upon receiving the command to "allow shelling the enemy," the Tunisian soldiers hastily adjusted their cannons, aiming at the landing forces on the beachhead.
However, before they could fire, the Advance, out on the distant sea, launched its attack first.
The 32-pounder and 24-pounder heavy cannons successively spewed flashes of fire and thick smoke. Amidst enormous roars, dark iron cannonballs shrieked as they slammed into the battery on the western side of the port.
Although the French Navy's training level couldn't match the British, they still belonged to the top tier in all of Europe.
At nearly extreme range, three out of twenty cannonballs directly struck the battery's walls. The violent impacts dislodged large chunks of rubble, which scattered into the Mediterranean Sea.
The battery shuddered from the bombardment, and the pirates upon it were instantly panic-stricken. Two men hurriedly lit their cannons, while most others cowered in corners, clutching their heads in fear.
One cannonball fired from the battery splashed directly into the water, while another struck over two hundred meters away from the Guards Corps, kicking up a cloud of sand.
From the combined fleet, more warships joined the bombardment of the battery, and the sound of cannon fire immediately became denser.
Their efforts captured most of the pirates' attention. Over seventy percent of the cannons on the battery turned towards the sea, attempting to drive away the fleet.
On the Guards Corps' side, all 8 companies of the first landing wave, nearly 800 soldiers, had completed forming ranks.
Under the officers' command to "begin the assault," the gunners loaded gunpowder and cannonballs into the mortars—those small, knee-high cannons—then ignited the fuses.
With a sudden boom, five sparking cannonballs arced across the sky, flying towards the pirate formation opposite.
Although these cannons were small, their large caliber and parabolic trajectory gave them a considerably impressive range.
The cannonballs landed three to four hundred meters away, and as their fuses burned down, each exploded with a boom.
Comments