King Theodore's Corsica
- Thread starter Carp
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If they're fellow Rhinelanders, there's a pretty good chance they would. The region's Francophilia was justly legendary during this period--there's a reason these people tended to head west when they went looking for courtier positions, instead of east.
While Neuhoff can mean "new farm", it's not his name, his name is "von Neuhoff", which tell us Neuhoff is not a farm, but a village, town, city or castle, which his family had ruled over. So I think the precise meaning of his name is pretty irrelevant, I think a Italianisation of his name will not build on the translation of his name, but just making it easy for Italians to pronounce.
I've done a little reading on Theodore's spelling of his own name in his letters. It seems that during and immediately after his reign he did not use the family name much; his letter to the Comte de la Marck in 1736 was signed "Theodore, Roy de Corse," while in communiques within the island it was typically just "Theodore" or "Theodore I." When he did use his family name, it was usually "de/von Neuhoff," but in his later life when he was living in London he changed the spelling and signed as "Baron de Newhoff." While "Newhoff" was not an uncommon spelling on the continent and was used by some non-Englishmen to refer to him, it does seem rather like an Anglicism when taken in the context of his move to London. It suggests that he was open to tweaking his name as it suited his situation, and also suggests that his pronunciation may indeed have been more French or English than German.
I could see that; at the very least, I'm certain he knew his Paracelsus. Still, von Neuhoff was an old and distinguished (if rather minor, as noble houses went) family name. Perhaps Theodore has reason to be skeptical of such things - his grandfather, after all, disowned him from the family - but his cousins might not be so willing to part with it.
I'm still leaning more towards an altered spelling, if anything, rather than a calque, but even if I don't end up calquing the name I think would be a good pun to name the royal palace "Cortenuovo" or something similar. A bit of linguistic wordplay certainly seems like something that would have appealed to Theodore.
You have me at a disadvantage, as my 18th century knowledge is admittedly not that deep. Who are you referring to?
Fair enough - certainly that's what happened with Theodore, who benefited from already-existing connections between his family and French nobility.
As far as Theodore's Rhenish cousins go, I know very little about their lives or to what extent they gravitated towards France. Rauschenburg fought in Corsica until 1740, but I can find nothing on him before or after his Corsican adventure, and apparently he had no descendants. Drost's early life is likewise unknown to me, but at least I know the end of his story, as he settled down in Corsica; he married into the Colonna-Bozzi family and had children. According to some sources his son married Napoleon's great-aunt Maddalena Buonaparte and was killed at the Battle of Ponte Novu that ended Paoli's republic in 1769. Friedrich Wilhelm, the only possible successor we haven't met yet ITTL, is the only one of Theodore's potential Rhenish successors whose life outside of Corsica I know anything about: he became a cadet in the Prussian Army and served as a lieutenant in the WoAS. Evidently he didn't marry or have children IOTL, and the line of Neuhoff zu Pungelscheid died with his generation.
It is, in fact, a castle; specifically, it's Schloss Neuenhof, which was the original seat of the family, although by Theodore's time that castle was in the possession of another branch of the family (von und zu Neuhoff) rather than his own branch of Neuhoff zu Pungelscheid.
I could see that; at the very least, I'm certain he knew his Paracelsus. Still, von Neuhoff was an old and distinguished (if rather minor, as noble houses went) family name. Perhaps Theodore has reason to be skeptical of such things - his grandfather, after all, disowned him from the family - but his cousins might not be so willing to part with it.
I'm still leaning more towards an altered spelling, if anything, rather than a calque, but even if I don't end up calquing the name I think would be a good pun to name the royal palace "Cortenuovo" or something similar. A bit of linguistic wordplay certainly seems like something that would have appealed to Theodore.
You have me at a disadvantage, as my 18th century knowledge is admittedly not that deep. Who are you referring to?
Fair enough - certainly that's what happened with Theodore, who benefited from already-existing connections between his family and French nobility.
As far as Theodore's Rhenish cousins go, I know very little about their lives or to what extent they gravitated towards France. Rauschenburg fought in Corsica until 1740, but I can find nothing on him before or after his Corsican adventure, and apparently he had no descendants. Drost's early life is likewise unknown to me, but at least I know the end of his story, as he settled down in Corsica; he married into the Colonna-Bozzi family and had children. According to some sources his son married Napoleon's great-aunt Maddalena Buonaparte and was killed at the Battle of Ponte Novu that ended Paoli's republic in 1769. Friedrich Wilhelm, the only possible successor we haven't met yet ITTL, is the only one of Theodore's potential Rhenish successors whose life outside of Corsica I know anything about: he became a cadet in the Prussian Army and served as a lieutenant in the WoAS. Evidently he didn't marry or have children IOTL, and the line of Neuhoff zu Pungelscheid died with his generation.
It is, in fact, a castle; specifically, it's Schloss Neuenhof, which was the original seat of the family, although by Theodore's time that castle was in the possession of another branch of the family (von und zu Neuhoff) rather than his own branch of Neuhoff zu Pungelscheid.
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Giacomo Casanova himself. He would be around fifteen at this time in the University of Padua, about to finish his law degree in 1742. After his brief abortive ecclesiastical court career, he took up soldiering around 1744/1745, being stationed in Corfu and then travelling to Constantinople, before getting bored with soldiering around 1746.
Until now, I didn't actually know anything about the Casanova, and certainly not that he was a contemporary of Theodore.
Just based on reading his Wikipedia article, it sounds like they had a lot in common. They were both seemingly intelligent and inquisitive, but had lifelong trouble with money (both were imprisoned for debt multiple times) and bounced around various careers with little success. They were both interested in Freemasonry, Rosicrucianism, and other occult topics. Both were, or claimed to be, alchemists. Casanova practiced numerology and Theodore claimed to be able to predict lottery numbers. Both ran into trouble with religion; Theodore, who under the name of "Syburg" was a renowned astrologer and alchemist who was apparently famous enough to have books written about him, spent some years with the Inquisition after him, while Casanova was imprisoned for offending religion and public decency. They both escaped from prison at least once.
Romantically, their pursuits (and their number of partners) were obviously quite different. Theodore certainly had some questionable liaisons, but his pattern seems to have been serial monogamy; he met his "current" lover IOTL/ITTL, Madame de Champigny, in 1732, and although the relationship was probably physical early on (that is, they met secretly and in person; what they did is unknown) he continued writing her letters for years, and to my knowledge had no other liasons during that time except for a single account that he had angered a Corsican man by being a bit too friendly towards his younger sister (which, if it was a real thing, may just have been a flirtation; there was no allegation that he had "intimate knowledge" of her). Theodore certainly had an interest in women (and they presumably had an interest in him, as he was universally described as charming and very handsome), but his romantic life does not seem to have been all that radical, and he was no sybarite - his lifelong pursuits seem to me to have been recognition and respect rather than pleasure.
Just based on the slight reading I've done today, it doesn't sound as if Casanova was all that serious about the military life (nor that he would have been particularly good at it had he persisted), perhaps being more interested in an officer's pay and sharp uniform than the vocation itself, so I rather question the idea of him ending up in Corsica in that capacity. Still, he certainly seems like someone who would have had some interesting conversations with Theodore had they ever met, and who might have sought "King Theodore" out had Theodore succeeded. I shall have to figure out some way to write him into the TL.
This, by the way, is just the sort of thing I'm looking for - right now we're waist-deep in the war narrative, but even now and particularly once the war ends I want to explore how Theodore and independent Corsica interact with both the politics and personalities of the 18th century, and since I'm not a 18th century specialist I'm always glad to have suggestions as to who might pop up.
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Some other potentials for other potential intersects with contemporaries:
From 1739 to 1740, Voltaire lived in Brussels and, in 1740, went up to the Hague on behalf of Frederick of Prussia in an attempt to dissuade a dubious publisher, van Duren, from printing without permission Frederick's Anti-Machiavel.
From 1743 to 1744, Rousseau was secretary to the Comte de Montaigue, the French ambassador to Venice, before returning to Paris penniless.
In 1744, Emanuel Swedenborg was living in the Netherlands.
In 1743, Joseph-Nicolas Delisle organized a world-wide observation of the transit of Mercury.
From 1739 to 1740, Voltaire lived in Brussels and, in 1740, went up to the Hague on behalf of Frederick of Prussia in an attempt to dissuade a dubious publisher, van Duren, from printing without permission Frederick's Anti-Machiavel.
From 1743 to 1744, Rousseau was secretary to the Comte de Montaigue, the French ambassador to Venice, before returning to Paris penniless.
In 1744, Emanuel Swedenborg was living in the Netherlands.
In 1743, Joseph-Nicolas Delisle organized a world-wide observation of the transit of Mercury.
Thanks! That's definitely a few things for me to look into. At the very least I expect Voltaire would have something to say about Theodore and Corsica ITTL, as he's already commented on Costa's 1735 constitution and IOTL wrote Theodore into Candide. Rousseau also mentioned Corsica in his works and famously began a project to write a Corsican constitution, but the apex of his career was decades later and Corsica is not guaranteed to catch his imagination in the same manner it did historically, as a simple agrarian tabula rasa into which wise men could form a moral civilization from scratch.
As far as visitors go, the 1740s are not going to be the best time to come to Corsica - my authorial word on the matter is that the Revolution won't be over until at least 1748 - but eventually I'll be interested in who might plan an excursion to the island, particularly as part of the Grand Tour, in the 1750s and beyond.
As it happens, it's quite possible that Theodore and Swedenborg have already met. They had both been part of the Jacobite plot of the Swedish minister von Görtz in 1716-17, and Theodore had traveled to Sweden during that time. IOTL, Theodore lived near Swedenborg in London in 1749 and had many of the same acquaintances in the same circles, including the famed kabbalist Dr. Samuel Falk. While there's no proof that they met, either in the 1710s or the 1740s, it's eminently plausible, and at the very least we know that Swedenborg knew of Theodore because he mentioned the "Corsican pretender" in his journal.
N.B. - No update for the next week, I'm sorry to say, as I'll be out of town.
As far as visitors go, the 1740s are not going to be the best time to come to Corsica - my authorial word on the matter is that the Revolution won't be over until at least 1748 - but eventually I'll be interested in who might plan an excursion to the island, particularly as part of the Grand Tour, in the 1750s and beyond.
As it happens, it's quite possible that Theodore and Swedenborg have already met. They had both been part of the Jacobite plot of the Swedish minister von Görtz in 1716-17, and Theodore had traveled to Sweden during that time. IOTL, Theodore lived near Swedenborg in London in 1749 and had many of the same acquaintances in the same circles, including the famed kabbalist Dr. Samuel Falk. While there's no proof that they met, either in the 1710s or the 1740s, it's eminently plausible, and at the very least we know that Swedenborg knew of Theodore because he mentioned the "Corsican pretender" in his journal.
N.B. - No update for the next week, I'm sorry to say, as I'll be out of town.
Anyone's comments on my last post that got stuck end of last page?
Voltaire had to flee Paris in 1747, going to Lorraine and eventually to Prussia. He then had to flee Prussia in 1753, living in Geneva until 1760. Plenty of time to flee to Corsica for a year or two!
Rousseau had to flee Paris in 1754 after Emile was published, going to Switzerland. Yet another opportunity for a Corsican jaunt.
Rousseau had to flee Paris in 1754 after Emile was published, going to Switzerland. Yet another opportunity for a Corsican jaunt.
I dunno, I think forcing the confluence of too many famous people would be too over the top in what otherwise is a timeline that trends pretty closely towards realism. I don't want to see all sorts of famous faces descend on Corsica just because it's the center of our timeline.
Rest assured that I have no intention of making this TL into a who's who of 18th century Europe. I think an independent Corsica would be a big deal; IOTL, Theodore was a celebrity and Corsica was a subject of serious philosophical interest. My goal is simply, as you say, to be realistic, which means avoiding either shoehorning people into Corsica unnecessarily or treating European history and 18th century biographies as if nothing would change as a result of the TL's alternate events.
I'm very happy to get suggestions on who might come to or otherwise interact with Corsica, because I am not a period expert and I don't have all the good ideas. But we're just spitballing, and by no means am I promising to use every suggestion, idea, or possibility.
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If you are interested in 18th century gentlemen (or, in one case, gentleperson) who had an interesting life in the same style as Neuhoff, here are a few others currently alive: Claude Bonneval (b. 1675, d. 1747, so hurry up), Comte de Saint-Germain (b. 1691 and going to live for a looong time), Farinelli (b. 1705, probably not going to leave a successor behind...), baron Münchhausen (b. 1720), Robert Clive (b. 1725), the chevalier d'Éon (b. 1725), Beaumarchais (b. 1732, probably too young), Joseph Balsamo (b. 1743, certainly too young). None of them, sadly, is as “interesting” as Theodore Neuhoff, and most of them are a bit too ”well-known” so they should probably be reserved for cameos. (As Practical Lobster said, making this a who's who would ruin the plausibility of the timeline).
This source also points to some people named Gratarol or Antonio Longo (although I cannot find much about them). There were also some interesting people in the French Geodesic Mission, although right now most of them are still in South America.
Redmond Barry, sadly, is a fictional character.
This source also points to some people named Gratarol or Antonio Longo (although I cannot find much about them). There were also some interesting people in the French Geodesic Mission, although right now most of them are still in South America.
Redmond Barry, sadly, is a fictional character.
Since we're naming interesting people, how about his Highness Sir James Brooke, the White Rajah of Sarawak. There's also Josiah Harlan, Prince of Ghor, who was supposedly the first American in Afganistan, and who's life may have inspired the film "The Man Who Would Be King" starring Sean Connery.
Both Great Men, but unfortunately both born fifty or more years after the POD, so...
The Last Respite
The Last Respite
The war for Corsica did not merely occupy its participants; it was very much a spectator sport. A key observer was Arthur Villettes, ambassador of Great Britain to the Court of Turin, where King Charles Emmanuel III of Sardinia was watching developments on Corsica with increasing alarm. In a letter to Thomas Pelham-Holles, Duke of Newcastle, the Secretary of State for the Southern Department, Villettes reported that Turin seemed to be undergoing a change of heart regarding King Theodore. The Sardinians had long been apprehensive about French intentions in Corsica, and since the Trévou Affair they had suspected Theodore of being a French agent. His current position as the leader of an anti-French insurgency, however, strongly suggested that this was not true. Although the Sardinians had barred their citizens from having commerce with the Corsican rebels some years before, this now seemed to be a policy against their own interest, and all that stopped them from repealing it outright was the prospect of French fury. Villettes speculated that the Sardinians might be exploring the possibility of following the lead of the Dutch, Tuscans, and Neapolitans by professing to ban trade with Corsica while doing practically nothing to prevent it, and the addition of Nice as an active smuggling port was attractive given its position just 120 miles across the sea from Isola Rossa.
Along with his frequent correspondent Horace Mann, the British consul in Florence, Villettes reported back on other powers waiting in the wings to swoop if France were to falter. Francis of Lorraine, the Grand Duke of Tuscany, was still interested, as was Queen Elisabeth Farnese of Spain, who wanted the island for her second son, the landless infante Philip. Mann reportedly uncovered information that the Queen of Spain had, a few years previously, proposed a territorial swap in which her eldest son King Charles of Naples, who was at that time considered a possible successor to the Grand Duke of Tuscany, would cede the Tuscan territory of Lunigiana to the Genoese in exchange for Corsica. That proposal had come to nothing; the Genoese had not yet given up hope of keeping the island, and shortly thereafter Charles was compelled to renounce the Tuscan succession to secure his accession to the throne of Naples-Sicily. Now that Francis ruled Tuscany, however, he was potentially in a position to make the same "Lunigiana offer" to the Genoese, and certainly he valued a royal crown more than a little exclave of Tuscany.[A]
Nevertheless, the chance of the infante Philip gaining Corsica seemed more immediately plausible. He was betrothed to, and in October would marry, Princess Louise Elisabeth, daughter of King Louis XV of France. The French were evidently aware of the Queen's idea to secure Corsica for Philip, and they were not necessarily opposed; it was more tolerable than Spain annexing it directly. Versailles appears to have neither supported nor opposed the proposal, at least not publicly, instead maintaining that it was a matter for Spain and Genoa to decide amongst themselves. Their presence on the island, however, effectively forestalled any such agreement, for while the war was ongoing Genoa still retained hope that it might not have to give up Corsica at all.
That war was not going particularly well for the French allies of the Genoese, and Villettes claimed that there was internal bickering in Paris regarding the conduct of the mission and the performance of Lieutenant-General Louis de Frétat de Boissieux. It is unclear what sources Villettes, who was at Turin, was relying on, but it was at least true that the French were not entirely happy with their general, who was criticized by some for being too accommodating towards the Corsicans and too sluggish in command. Cardinal André-Hercule de Fleury was not yet ready to sack him, but the French ambassador to Genoa, Jacques de Campredon, would be dismissed in early March amid rumors that he too was unacceptably pro-Corsican.
On the scene since the start of the rebellion, Campredon arguably knew more about Genoa and Corsica than any other French official. He had recently written a comprehensive report on the social and political life of the Genoese elite, going into such detail as to even comment on the senators' romantic dalliances. Politically, he had been a consistent advocate for French annexation, as he had come to the conclusion early on that Genoese sovereignty was unlikely to ever be restored and believed France's only reasonable option to keep the island out of the hands of another power was to take it for herself. It may have been this, rather than supposed sympathy with the rebels, that ultimately forced his removal; while he had not shared these opinions with the Genoese, they probably suspected his position, and his dismissal may have been politically helpful at a time when Versailles was doing its best to assure the Genoese that they had no intentions of conquest. His interim replacement, the French consul Monsieur Coutlet, was quite the opposite; indeed, he was so anti-Corsican that he wrote in support of the idea floated occasionally in the Genoese Senate of simply wiping the slate clean and "depopulating" the island.
On Corsica, the royalists were enjoying their last month before the arrival of the next wave of French reinforcements. The first good news had come early in the month with the arrival of Matthias von Drost, Theodore's cousin. Drost had taken a ship full of arms and supplies with him to Livorno to be smuggled into Corsica from there. It is unclear exactly how extensive the cargo was, or how much of it actually made it to Corsica, but most of the cargo seems to have evaded the blockade. Costa recorded that Drost had arranged for the import of "hundreds" of muskets and artillery amounting to four guns and two mortars. He also brought men, mostly Germans who had been hired in Amsterdam. Those whose names we know include Lieutenant Tobias-Friedrich Bollet of Württemberg, who had been a junior officer in the ducal army; Captain Johann-Gottfried Vater, a 38 year old Saxon and a former lieutenant in the Austrian army, who made the questionable decision to bring his wife Marie and 11-year old son Johann-Polykarp along as well; and Captain Johann-Gottlieb Reusse, of Saxony, who had studied engineering at the University of Leiden and received a commission from Theodore as a captain of engineers. Some were adventurous men who had specifically sought out Theodore; others were deserters with nowhere else to go, debtors whom Theodore had sprung from prison, or vagabonds plucked from off the street by the promise of good pay. The king could indeed pay them and many remained with the rebel cause for years to come, although some found Drost's promises on behalf of Theodore to be more extravagant than reality and did not stay long.
Germans were not the only notable foreign officers in Theodore's service. From the start, Theodore had raised money from his old Jacobite friends in Rome and elsewhere, and a modest number had joined him in Corsica. By the start of 1739 we know the names of three Jacobites among the foreign officers; a certain Captain Macdonald, a Scotsman; Lieutenant-Colonel Callan, an Irishman who had been a quartermaster in Tuscan service; and Lieutenant-Colonel Sir John Powers, formerly of Spanish service, who knew Theodore from his days in Madrid.[B] The man Theodore really wanted, however, was his good friend and brother-in-law Edward Sarsfield, Viscount Kilmallock.[C] The Sarsfields of Kilmallock had been attainted and forced into exile in 1691 for taking the side of the Jacobites in the Williamite War in Ireland. Most of the family ended up in Spanish service. Viscount David, colonel of infantry and commander of the fortress of Badajoz, was killed at the Battle of Villaviciosa in 1710, and his eldest son Dominick lost his life in Sicily in 1718 during the War of the Quadruple Alliance. The title then passed to Edward, David's second son, who became a colonel of dragoons. Theodore had written to him often, offering a commission and pay.
Only in April of 1739 did Kilmallock finally arrive. Perhaps money was a reason: peacetime was not lucrative for a soldier and Kilmallock had a weakness for gambling, and it had been widely reported in recent months that Theodore had come into the possession of a vast sum courtesy of his mysterious foreign backers. He was a good acquisition—witty, bold, very experienced in war, and quite accustomed to working with foreigners in a foreign army. Theodore confirmed his rank as colonel, giving him overall command of the Corsican Guard[1] and the post of Adjutant General. Aside from advising Theodore, his purpose was mainly to train the Guard, which had acquitted itself well enough in a static position at Corbara but had more motivation than proper instruction. Kilmallock was not exactly the strict, hard-nosed disciplinarian that might have been ideal, but he was knowledgeable enough and soon became popular among the troops. Don Chimallu, as the Corsicans called him, had possessed a wild reputation as a young man, and although age had mellowed him somewhat (he was probably a few years younger than Theodore, and thus in his early 40s) he remained a colorful character, a born fighter who loved a good scrap and valued fighting spirit as much as army drill. Notably, he seems to have been the first person to systematically instruct Corsican soldiers in the use of the bayonet; while the Guard had been given bayonets, a relative rarity among the militia, their chief use prior to Kilmallock's arrival had been as cooking implements.[D]
With the battle-lines static and conflict at a fairly low level, Theodore felt free to expend some of his time on matters of administration. Making a trip inland to Corti, he presided over several legal cases, including vendetta killings which had been committed despite his ban on the practice. The most notable administrative development, however, was the first serious enforcement of a proposal that had been made some time ago regarding tithes. Traditionally, the Corsicans were required to pay a twentieth of their income (generally speaking, this meant agricultural produce) to the church. Collection of this tithe, although spotty, had lasted longer than the Genoese state taxes which were immediately repudiated by the rebels, but by now Corsica was completely abandoned by its bishops. With the backing of the Diet, Theodore proclaimed that the tithe would, until further notice, be collected by the state instead. Although the Corsicans detested their absentee bishops, Genoese stooges to a man, they were uneasy with the idea of plundering the church, and there was some opposition to this decree. Theodore promised that of the tithe collected, one-third would be devoted to the sustenance of the churches (for most churches and monasteries remained occupied, and the priesthood and monastic brethren were generally more sympathetic to the revolutionaries than the episcopacy), another third would be used for charity, and only the final third - ordinarily given to the bishops - would be seized for state revenue. This share, amounting to a 1.67% agricultural tax, could not have possibly generated much revenue compared to lucrative oil smuggling.
The final achievement of the month was an audacious attack by Theodore's "nephew" Johann Friedrich Caspar von Neuhoff zu Rauschenburg.[2] On the 22nd of April, Rauschenburg led around three or four hundred Niolesi and Talcinesi in a surprise attack in the valley of the Poffiume, falling upon the Franco-Genoese garrison at Cassano just before dawn. Although the shooting started soon after their arrival, a French source claimed the Corsicans had stabbed to death a number of Genoese soldiers who were still in their beds. Those Genoese were not killed or captured immediately threw down their arms and fled, leaving the French companies to their fate. Unprepared, scattered, and outnumbered by around three to one, they resisted valiantly but briefly before being completely overwhelmed. The Corsicans did not hold the village long, retreating back to the mountains after a firefight with the garrison of Montemaggiore less than a mile away whose soldiers had heard the gunfire, but by the time the fighting ended Rauschenburg could boast that his force had killed, wounded, or captured at least 120 men, Genoese and French, and lost only nineteen. The French later claimed at least 30 Corsicans had been killed, but did not dispute their own losses. The immediate effect was to force Boissieux to further strengthen his garrisons and send experienced officers to enforce vigilance and discipline. By early May, Fabiani, Kilmallock, and Drevitz were discussing an attack against Boissieux's main position at Algajola, believing that they had a distinct advantage in numbers and artillery, but these plans were soon scrapped with the arrival of the third wave of French forces.
Boissieux had landed with six battalions and had received another four earlier in the year. In early May, another six battalions of infantry landed in Corsica,[3] this time without incident, bringing the nominal French infantry force up to approximately 8,500 men (although many of the already present battalions were under strength from battle and disease, and thus the actual total was significantly lower). Boissieux had also expressed a desire for light cavalry, as they would be of some use in the Balagna, and accordingly he was provided with three squadrons of hussars.[4] Lastly, the army dispatched to Corsica some "miquelets" of Roussillon, otherwise known as fusiliers de montagne, light mountain infantry who would probably have been more useful had they not numbered only a single company of about 50 men.[5]
Footnotes
[1] The colonelcy of the regiment had been empty since the assassination of Giappiconi. In the interim, Captain Giovan Luca Poggi had led the unit, which during Theodore's absence was barely even company sized. Poggi was promoted directly to lieutenant-colonel upon Theodore's return from the continent and became Kilmallock's executive officer after the latter's arrival.
[2] Johann Friedrich was born in 1713 and thus 26 years old in 1739. Despite being Theodore's first cousin, he was certainly young enough to be his nephew (or even his son), as Theodore turned 45 that year.
[3] One battalion each of the regiments of Royal-Roussillon, Chaillou, Forez, Ile-de-France, Aunis, and Montmorency.
[4] Two squadrons of Rattsky hussars and one of Esterhazy hussars. These hussar squadrons consisted of 150 men each but evidently only 100 horses, and thus had a nominal strength of 300 cavalrymen.
[5] The fusiliers de montagne, also known as miquelets, were not a permanent feature of the French army but rather irregular units raised on a temporary basis for specific conflicts. Typically, several battalions were raised during wartime and then disbanded a few years later when hostilities had ended or they were no longer useful. The battalions raised for the War of Polish Succession were dissolved around the time Theodore arrived in Corsica in early 1736, and thus France had none on hand when the Corsican invasion began. This may help explain why Boissieux apparently only received a single company in May of 1739. What is harder to explain is why the French waited until February of 1739, an entire year after Boissieux's first arrival, to order these mountain troops to be raised. The most likely explanation is that the French believed the Corsicans would quickly be overawed by French might without the necessity of a prolonged period of mountain warfare or anti-guerrilla campaigning, thus rendering the raising of miquelet battalions from scratch an unnecessary expense.
Timeline Notes
[A] You can see Tuscan Lunigiana here; it's the disconnected bit of Tuscany on the Genoese border, separated from the main body of Tuscany by the Duchy of Modena. The Lunigiana-Corsica swap was floated as an idea IOTL, but it doesn't seem to have been seriously considered by the Genoese. Although it would undoubtedly have been a less troublesome province for the Republic than Corsica, it would also have been a sizable loss of land area, and probably of population as well (although I have no figures on the population of the district).
[B] IOTL, Powers left Corsica in late 1736 because he (correctly) believed Theodore's cause was lost. He's stuck around ITTL.
[C] Technically the title was "Viscount Sarsfield," but as Sarsfield was a rather common name the family was known as the Sarsfields of Kilmallock and their lords colloquially titled "Lord/Viscount Kilmallock," which in turn became their chosen title in exile. I've seen "Edward" named "Edmund" in some sources. Kilmallock never came to Corsica IOTL, despite Theodore's invitations, but he remained Theodore's good friend for the rest of his life, and Theodore stayed with him during his later years. ITTL, Theodore's longer and more successful reign, his newfound funding, and the coming of peace after the War of Polish Succession have convinced Kilmallock to take the opportunity, at least for now.
[D] From what I can tell, bayonet usage at this time was not the waist-height method you might be most familiar with from movies, but an earlier method in which the musket was held at shoulder height and wielded more like a pike. The waist-high method was only introduced by the Prussians in the 1740s.
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In fairness to the French, the intervention force IOTL consisted of exactly the same units on roughly the same deployment schedule, and although the French accomplished nothing in 1738, the campaign proceeded very quickly in early 1739 and conquered the whole island in a matter of weeks.
What's different about TTL? Firstly, command; IOTL, Boissieux died in early 1739, yielding command to the Marquis de Maillebois, a more skilled and energetic general who was willing to be lenient to the Corsicans but - critically - only after they had been totally crushed. Just as importantly, however, the rebels controlled far less territory than ITTL; the Balagna was contested, with most of the coastal areas in Genoese hands, and San Fiorenzo and Bastia were still Genoese as well. ITTL, the French are effectively "bottled up" in the three main Genoese-held ports, and do not have much operational freedom. Furthermore, the rebels IOTL were divided and uncertain as to what they were going to do; some resisted, but other prominent leaders like Matra, Paoli, and d'Ornano came to terms with the French fairly quickly, submitting or accepting exile. Those that did choose to fight, of course, lacked the arms and munitions that the syndicate was able to bring ITTL but failed to land IOTL.
There's also arguably a "threshold" here in terms of French power. The rebels have not shown the ability to raise and coordinate an army of more than about 2,000, to say nothing of being able to keep such a force in the field for an extended period of time. They are unlikely to do well against a well-trained, well-supplied, entirely regular French force that can match those numbers and can offer some degree of combined arms as well (even if it's only a few 4-pounders and a squadron of hussars). Before now, Boissieux has had difficulty fielding those numbers because of his obligations to garrison various points around the island; his attacking force at Corbara was only 1,500. With his newest reinforcements, he can potentially garrison territory and still have the men for at least two 2,000+ man maneuver brigades, which the rebels will have great difficulty defeating in the field. That's the plan, at least - a plan that I'll detail in the next update. At long last, more than a year after their first landing, the French actually have (and can implement) a coherent strategy that isn't just "push outward from our landing points until our forces are too thin to mount further offensives."
One thing I've only begun thinking about recently is the effect of Maillebois never serving in Corsica. IOTL, he got his marshal's baton in 1741, and since this was right after his successful conquest of Corsica it seems reasonable to assume that his success on the island contributed to his promotion. He went on to be a key commander in the WoAS: He commanded in Bohemia/Bavaria/Westphalia early in the war, and in 1745 was sent to Italy, where he became the chief French theater commander there (although not the supreme theater commander, as he was subordinate to the Spanish general de Gages). His record in the WoAS was a mixed bag; I haven't read much admiration for his performance in Germany, but in Italy he conducted himself well, and after the disastrous Battle of Piacenza it was arguably only his skilled maneuvering in a very dire situation that kept the French army in Italy from being surrounded and destroyed. To me, at least, he comes off as a cautious commander, at times overly so, but one who could act with frightening rapidity when the course of action was clear.* I don't know much about French high command structure, but if he isn't made a marshal in 1741 someone else may get those commands, possibly to France's detriment.
*Although his caution may have had more to do with his orders than his character; his alleged instruction in Germany was to "avoid hazarding the honor of the king's army, and come to no engagement, the success of which can be in the least doubtful." Such orders could not have done much to inspire initiative.
Plan Boissieux
"Plan Boissieux" - May 1739
Excerpts from Merganser Publishing's "Rebellion!" Series #24: The Corsican Revolution
Excerpts from Merganser Publishing's "Rebellion!" Series #24: The Corsican Revolution
Hussar of the Esterhazy Regiment c. 1740
Despite fielding more regular soldiers on Corsica than the Genoese Republic had ever managed, by April of 1739 the French had embarrassingly little to show for it. The corps commander, the Marquis de Boissieux, had spent most of 1738 in fruitless negotiations between the Republic and the revolutionary government of King Theodore von Neuhoff, an exercise doomed to failure because of both the incompatibility of their respective demands and the perceived bias of the French in favor of the Genoese. After the final rejection of the terms of Fontainebleau in October of 1738, Boissieux's military efforts had been uninspired, although admittedly he was hampered both by an initial lack of troops and the tactical limitations imposed upon him by the virtual captivity of the French forces in their three occupied ports. A costly assault was necessary to break out of Calvi, and any initial strategic momentum was bled away by the necessity to garrison western Balagna against raids from Corsican mountaineers under Theodore's young and surprisingly redoubtable cousin, the Baron Neuhoff zu Rauschenburg.
The French reinforcements which arrived in the first week of May increased Boissieux's force to sixteen battalions of infantry (from ten),[1] and added three squadrons of hussars and a company of light infantry. Thus bolstered, Boissieux resolved not merely to redouble his efforts but to shift his strategy. His previous military efforts had been heavily compromised by political considerations, for he was mindful of his initial orders to avoid undue "rigor" and wanted to conciliate, rather than crush, the Corsican rebels. By May of 1739, however, he was aware of the tenuousness of his position in Paris, where the government was impatient to resolve what had been expected to be a quick and relatively bloodless conquest. His superiors were now more concerned with restoring French honor than exemplifying French mercy, and urged Boissieux to assert control of the situation by whatever means necessary.
Calvi and the western Balagna had been, up to now, the primary theater of operations, while French forces elsewhere had been something of a sideshow. The Ajaccio brigade had been reasonably successful in engagements with the Corsicans but wanted for purpose or direction; after breaking the siege of the rebel general Marquis Luca d'Ornano, there seem to have been no clear objectives other than to expand French control in whatever direction it could be maintained, which was not terribly far. Relatively isolated from the rest of the island by tall mountains and steep valleys, French struggles here had contributed little to Boissieux's position in the north. The Porto Vecchio force had amounted to a single battalion, whose presence put the minds of the Genoese at ease but was insufficient to undertake offensive operations.
Although Boissieux still rejected the scorched earth tactics recommended to him by his argumentative Genoese host, Marquis Giovanni-Battista de Mari, he had come to the conclusion that the surest way to reduce the Corsicans to submission was to strangle them by cutting them off from all resupply. This would require the occupation of the island's chief agricultural provinces in the north, the Balagna and the Nebbio, as well as the main rebel ports of Bastia, San Fiorenzo, and Isola Rossa, and the long stretch of eastern coastline whose lagoons and streams were havens for smugglers. This plan also had the advantage of avoiding an invasion of the mountainous highlands where the French would be at a relative disadvantage. Ajaccio, being nowhere near these key objectives, was thus superseded in Boissieux's new plan by Porto Vecchio, which could offer a staging point for French forces to not only take key fortresses on the eastern coast but to traverse the coastal plains all the way to Bastia. Thus, the number of French battalions in Ajaccio actually decreased in May, from four to three, while the Porto Vecchio detachment received the largest share of the new wave of Frenchmen, increasing from a single battalion to five battalions with an accompanying squadron of hussars.
In the Balagna, the new strategic plan differed little from the old. A brigade under the Chevalier de Rousset, with five infantry battalions, two squadrons of the Rattsky Hussars, and accompanying artillery would move east to take Isola Rossa and if possible force a decisive battle with the Balagnese militia under Marquis Fabiani. Genoese forces would provide garrisons in "liberated" villages, and they would be supported by a reserve brigade under the Chevalier de Sasselange consisting of two under-strength battalions (the first Auvergne battalion, mauled at Madonna della Serra, and the Cambrésis battalion, which had lost more than a third of its strength to Corsican captivity in its botched landing) and a reserve company of artillery possessing most of the heavier guns (8-pounders and mortars) which were deemed to be impractical in Rousset's brigade but might be of some use in hardening Balagnese garrisons against attack.
The "eastern" brigade under the Marquis de Villemur, consisting of five infantry battalions and a company of hussars based initially in Porto Vecchio, would drive north along the coast with Bastia as its objective. Although not equipped with artillery, this was considered to be a much stronger force than anything the rebels possessed in the east, and rapid progress was expected. At the same time, a much smaller group—a brigade only in name—consisting of the Montmorency Infantry regiment and the small company of miquelets under the Comte de Montmorency would proceed in the opposite direction, landing at Rogliano and attempting to force the Capo Corso. They would be joined by several Genoese companies of Ligurians, grudgingly yielded by Mari, the only Genoese forces in Boissieux's plan not relegated to the status of rear-echelon or garrison troops. Finally, d'Ornano's royalist army in the Dila would face a brigade of three battalions under the Marquis du Châtel; Châtel's job was not to defeat his enemy or even come to grips with him, but merely to pose enough of a threat to prevent d'Ornano from coming to the assistance of the rebel forces in the Diqua.
Planned major axes of operations, Summer of 1739 (Click to expand)
The intent of the plan was to force the Corsicans into an impossible choice. They could devote their full forces to the Balagna and perhaps even hold back Rousset's newly reinforced brigade, but only at the cost of leaving their vital territory in the northeast open to a two-pronged attack from the rear. Alternatively, they could divide their forces to try and face every threat, but Boissieux suspected they had neither the organization nor the experienced troops and officers to make a stout defense everywhere, and a miscalculation on any front could create an opportunity for a French breakthrough. In due time, the northeast would face simultaneous pressure from west, north, and south, and the Corsican position would crumble. Once shorn of their coastal territories, the rebels would be denied any means of rearmament or resupply, and would inevitably be compelled to lay down their arms and accept French terms.
Strategically, the plan was sound enough, and the French made significant headway against the rebels in the weeks that followed. No plan survives contact with the enemy, however, and in 1739 Boissieux's enemy turned out to be the island itself as much as the natives. Operational difficulties were soon encountered which the French command had not fully anticipated. Montmorency's attack, decoy or not, soon proved to be impractical. Advancing down a narrow band of mountains was difficult enough on its own and provided the Corsicans with endless opportunities to delay his advance with a token force, but supply was also an issue; the roads were extremely poor, the Genoese at Rogliano had few mules or carts to offer, the rebels had already plundered the cape of much of its stores, and each of these difficulties was only compounded as Montmorency advanced and stretched his supply line further. Supply by water was complicated both by the absence of good ports and Corsican privateers based out of nearby Bastia and San Fiorenzo who proved very able to dash out of port and attack any unescorted supply ships. Meanwhile, Villemur would meet with early success in his eastern campaign, but was to find out firsthand why the Corsicans had not settled in most of the flatland he was using as a thoroughfare. It was fringed from top to bottom with shallow, mosquito-infested marshes and lagoons, and his brigade would be tramping along their shores just as the hot and pestilential Corsican summer was getting underway.
Footnotes
[1] The French army had 122 infantry regiments consisting of 193 battalions on its rolls in 1740. Assuming consistent battalion size—which was generally true, although the infantry battalions of the Maison du Roi, the French household troops, varied somewhat from the norm—Boissieux's expeditionary force amounted to approximately 8.3% of the overall infantry strength of the French army.
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