It's also possible that the Corsicans see themselves, through the rise of nationalism, as different enough from the mainland that they push the native Corsican hard to differentiate themselves.

I would think that the Corsican bourgeoisie follow Italian nationalism like the Sardinian or Sicilian did. While they do have more unique cultures than the cultural continuum of the mainland, they remain out of these insular Italians, among the closest.

Corsica's response to Italian unification is a really interesting subject which I've certainly thought about, although regrettably that won't be covered in this thread. It seems likely to me that there will be "unionists" in Corsica who, for cultural and/or economic reasons, support the integration of the kingdom into a coalescing Italian state. Yet the Corsican experience ITTL is unique, because unlike Sicily or Sardinia, Corsica rules itself. The kingdom's origin story and core national myth is a violent uprising against Genoa, a mainland Italian state which neglected and abused the Corsicans. If the Corsicans want to see how well the Savoyards take care of their insular subjects, they need only look at their neighbor Sardinia, which was not exactly a model of development and autonomy under Turin's rule. Corsican "nationalists" can (and will) decry unionists as traitors who want to throw away the independence that their ancestors fought and bled for. Thus, despite Corsica's close linguistic and cultural ties to the mainland, I don't think a national consensus on "unionism" is a sure bet, and I suspect even Corsican unionists will want some sort of "negotiated entry" for Corsica in which they are able to set the terms of their union rather than being unilaterally annexed by the Savoyards (or whoever ends up being the protagonist of unification). The preferred endpoint of Corsican unionism might be something more like the situation of Bavaria in post-unification Germany, a sub-state which is subordinated to the larger polity but retains many of its own institutions (including its own monarch) and some degree of internal autonomy.

Of course, much depends on the political situation in that era. Is the Corsican monarchy still seen as a cherished national institution and a force for liberalism and progress, or has it grown conservative and sclerotic over the course of the 19th century? Theo has been portrayed thus far as having some "enlightened" principles like his grand-uncle and has a liberal chancellor in power, but he is no democrat, and the events of the French Revolution caused many European regimes to take a reactionary turn. Perhaps unionism is adopted by frustrated Corsican liberals - or, contrarily, if Turin is no better (or even worse) they may spurn "unification" as a capitulation to an odious illiberal mainland regime.

If Theo II has the capacity to build several new palaces, however small they might be by the standards of continental nobility never mind royalty, then I guess that the financial woes which caused the nation to suspend it's loans will disappear quite completely by the end of the century?

It depends on what you mean by "the nation." Remember, unlike in many other monarchies of the day the Corsican crown and the Corsican government have separate pocketbooks. The Reggia di Noceta is a project of the Corsican crown, whose fortunes improved substantially in the 1780s (thanks in large part to the Rauschenburg succession, which we'll cover later). It was not funded by taxpayer money at all, and thus the fiscal crisis of the government had no direct impact on its construction (although Theo may have waited to build it until the immediate debt crisis was over just to avoid the optics of building palaces while the government defaulted on its debts). Cortenova is a larger project that might require some public spending, but that has yet to be established in the story - and in any case, that's a few decades in the future at this point.
 
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What can we expect the Corsican government and military to look like by the dawn of otl Napoleonic Era (1800)? Will the government and military have more permanent and professional positions vs the current part time system? With the via nazionale complete, will auxiliary roads eventually be made to connect larger villages to the via nazionale? With eventually even small villages having roads built that link them to said larger villages?

Edit: also, how much will Corsica be able to industrialize eventually? I'm assuming that with the central highlands and coastal plains surrounding them that Corsica likely has many streams which can feed watermills, so I assume light industry is going to be very common eventually. I have no idea if the island possesses the coal reserves for heavier industry later on though.
 
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I would tend to guess Corsica is likely to be pretty resistant to unification by Sardinia. Its going to have more of a national identity thanks to the long anti-Genoa war by a long shot than, say, Modena, or even the Piedmont part of Sardinia. Its governance is likely to be different in a variety of ways. Its going to want its local government. But is it more 1848-style unification? If it is more of a confederation dynamic I could see that having more appeal. OTL the Pope was sort of the figurehead to some degree.

Could see the Kings of Corsica being tempting for a national leader especially if popes turn conservative OTL. For people who don't want to be Greater Piedmont or Greater Sicilies, Corsica could be tempting. An established royal line with legitimacy but not too involved in mainland politics. Good odds though Corsica just stays independent, which Italy is likely to highly resent until age of nationalism cools a bit. And I think that makes a better story too, as exciting as it might be for a great power to be ruled by the Neuhoff dynasty as that makes Corsica secondary even if much better governed than OTL Italy did its more peripheral parts.
 
Does the Corsican elite send their children to study abroad? If so where, in France or more in the Italian states?
Since there's no real prestigious institutes in the island yet , I imagine they would send their kids abroad.
Also, considering Theo II went to the Accademia Reale in Turin as well as the long history of support from Livorno for Corsica, and the Queen herself coming from Rome. I can imagine the elite of Corsica are "Italo-philic" for lack of a better term and would make sure their kids go to the best universities and boarding schools the boot of Europe has to offer.

Maybe we'll even see them start to send their kids to Vienna depending how relations between Austria-Hungary and Corsica improve over the coming years.
 
The vast majority of educated Corsicans in the 18th century (particularly before the French conquest) studied at Italian universities. Anecdotally, Genoa, Pisa, and Rome seem to come up the most; law was studied at all three, including programs in utroque jure ("in both laws," i.e. civil and canon law), while Rome and Genoa attracted theology students and Pisa seems to have been favored for mathematics and the sciences. Milan, Mantua, and Padua also show up occasionally, usually in the context of law or medicine.

My sense is that ITTL Genoa has gone out of favor and Pisa and Rome have taken up most of the slack. Naples is also a possibility - they don't seem to have been a common destination for students in the 18th century IOTL, but they had some important luminaries in economics and the sciences in the 18th century and relations between Corsica and Naples have been pretty good ITTL. The Royal University (in Corti) is largely focused on law, philosophy, and mathematics, with some instruction available in the sciences since the arrival of the Jesuits, although anyone who actually wants a doctorate in something like botany or physics is probably still going to Pisa.


A lot of this will probably be covered either by future updates or by "epilogue" posts after the story is complete, so I'm going to leave this aside for now, but you will hopefully see answers (or at least some speculation on the answers) to most of these questions eventually.
 
Corsican Style
Corsican Style


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A late 18th century Corsican woman in traditional clothing. Her jewelry and floral print mezzaro indicate her wealth.


Having long languished as a colonial backwater on the periphery of Europe, Corsica had never been at the forefront of European fashion. The residents of the Genoese presidi generally followed the fashions of Liguria, where the influence of France and Spain predominated, but such trends penetrated into the interior only very slowly. In some cases the clothing styles of Corsican peasants had remained almost unchanged since the Late Middle Ages. While independence had little immediate effect on Corsican dress, the opening of Corsican ports to the outside world, the economic advancement of the middle and upper classes, the examples set by Corsica’s royalty, and the increased availability of fabrics and fashions through the immigration of Jewish tailors and cloth merchants had a visible impact on Corsican wardrobes over the second half of the 18th century, particularly among those families with the means to follow fashion.

The costume of the typical Corsican man during this period did not differ much from his counterparts on the continent: a linen undershirt, a buttoned vest (corpetto), and a jacket (mozza), and breeches. For ordinary villagers the mozza was usually made of undyed, rough brown cloth with horn buttons, while more prosperous men displayed their wealth with finer fabrics, larger lapels, and metal buttons. The preference among the wealthy was a black velvet mozza with silver or brass buttons, often trimmed or lined with another color. The jacket was worn open to display the corpetto, which could be almost any color. This was often a matter of personal preference, but there were also regional trends - In the Cortinese blue or red corpetti predominated, while green corpetti were preferred in the Castagniccia and purple in Ajaccio. Striped cloth was also used and was particularly common in the cities. Below the belt, men wore brown or black breeches and brown cloth or goatskin gaiters when outdoors. In cold or rainy weather men would wear a hooded peacoat (capotto), while shepherds and other poor rural folk wore the pilone, a hooded cape of shaggy goat hair that could also be used as a blanket.

The barretta, the distinctive cap of Corsican men, came in a variety of forms. The most common type was a peaked “phrygian” cap of black or brown with a trim or front panel of a different color, often red. Other styles had ear flaps pinned up at the sides by buttons, one or more vertical embroidered seams, or a “scalloped” trim. Many had a pom-pom or tassel on the top. The barretta was common among both the rich and poor, although wealthy men’s barrette were often made of black velvet with trim and tassels made of colored silk. Cocked hats grew increasingly common through the second half of the 18th century, particularly in the coastal towns among nobles, educated professionals, skilled tradesmen, and soldiers.


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Assorted barrette


Unusually for 18th century western Europeans, most Corsican men were bearded. The Enlightenment prejudice against facial hair made no impression in the Corsican interior, where beards continued to be important symbols of adulthood and male virility. Beards were usually worn full, but neatly trimmed. An untrimmed beard was seen as a symbol of grief or violence, as traditionally men did not trim their beards when in mourning for a relative - and, in the case of a vendetta killing, might not trim them until that relative was avenged. Over the course of the 18th century clean-shaven men became more common, particularly among the wealthy and educated classes of the presidi in the last half of the century. Many of Corsica’s most prominent statesmen shaved, including Chancellor Paoli, who was beardless throughout his career. In the interior, however, the beard continued to reign supreme.

Although Theodore I had sported a small mustache for part of his reign, Corsican kings were otherwise clean-shaven until 1785, when King Theodore II began sporting a mustache and goatee - a look which had been deeply unfashionable among the princes of Christian Europe for the last century.[1] Theo’s own reasons for this fashion choice are unclear; the popular story was that he was inspired by his visit to the army at Bonifacio during the war, which had grown rather hirsute after weeks of encampment outside the city, but if so this “inspiration” did not take effect for several years. Others have suggested it was related to the birth of his son Arrigo in 1785, as Corsicans commonly associated beards with fatherhood, but he did not do the same for the birth of his first son in 1779 (although since Theo was then only 24 years old, perhaps that was not yet an option). Whatever his reason, the king’s style of beard gained some popularity among the Corsican elite, who may have seen the style (and mustaches more generally) as a compromise by which they could project an image of modern European refinement without entirely abandoning the universal signifier of Corsican masculinity.

The typical costume of a Corsican village woman consisted of a linen chemise and an underskirt under a sleeved bodice and one or more petticoats (or a canvas apron for working women). Women with more means would add multiple petticoats of different colors and wear a more colorful and elaborate bodice. A village woman might own only a single “fancy” bodice for special events, which was often passed down from mother to daughter and repaired or altered as needed. Women of somewhat more means might wear a casaquin (cassachino), a hip-length fitted jacket. Fancy bodices and casaquins might be worn “open” to display a decorative plastron or stomacher.


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Left: Lower-class woman wearing a capiddina over a plain mezzaro and a faddetta on her shoulders. Her bodice is plain and she wears a single petticoat under the faddetta. Like many peasant women, she is barefoot.
Center: Lower-class woman wearing a saccula over an underskirt.
Right: Middle-class woman wearing layered petticoats and a faddetta over her head. She wears earrings and a coral bead necklace.


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Left: Middle or upper-class woman wearing a cassachino with a stomacher. She wears an “angel’s head” turban and has a rolled-up faddetta around her waist which can be pulled over her head.
Center: Upper-class woman wearing a fashionable saccula with an embroidered collar. The sleeves of her bodice with large cuffs and ribbons are visible. Her hair is worn in a scuffia with “antlers.”
Right: Upper-class woman wearing a large floral print mezzaro and layered petticoats. Court dress would be similar, but with a black silk or lace mezzaro.


Characteristic of interior Corsica, particularly in Niolo and the Cortinese, was a long sleeveless dress called a saccula. This dress had endured since the Middle Ages with few changes and was considered to be a particularly “authentic” Corsican style, often referred to as simply abito corso (“Corsican dress”). Usually the saccula was quite plain, made of rough, undyed homespun which at most might be embellished with a bit of colored fabric around the collar. In the 18th century, however, the saccula was “rediscovered” by elite women who saw it as fashionably rustic and quaint, leading to elaborate examples of this dress made of silk or muslin and decorated with embroidery. Unlike the peasant’s wool saccula, which was everyday working wear, the wealthy woman’s saccula was usually worn indoors with friends or other casual company rather than on the street or at formal occasions.

From the 1780s upper-class Corsican women began adopting the robe à l'anglaise or “Italian gown,” which in Corsica was known as a piombinese because of its association with Queen Laura, princess of Piombino. Laura’s own court dress was the andrienne or robe à la française, a voluminous silk or muslin gown with box pleats hanging from the back and a wide skirt held up by panniers. For everyday wear, however, she preferred a more modern and practical close-bodied Italian gown with a fitted back and a “quartered bodice” which was constructed separately from the skirt (and was worn without panniers, although usually with small hoops or a “false rump”). This simpler dress was more accessible to upper class Corsican women than the enormously expensive andrienne and was widely copied by those with the means to do so.


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A silk damask robe à l'anglaise from the 1770s. Confusingly, this style of gown is also known as an "Italian gown," and in Corsica as a "Piombinese."


Corsican women of all classes covered their hair in public. This was usually done with a rectangular piece of cloth called a mezzaro (from the Arabic mizar, meaning “covering” or “hidden”) which was draped around the head and shoulders. In the mid-18th century mezzari a fioretti (“flowered veils”), made of printed fabrics imported from Persia or India and featuring floral or arboreal motifs, became very fashionable in Corsica and were widely worn by middle and upper-class women well into the 19th century. In some parts of Corsica, women wore a large over-skirt called a faddetta which was designed to be pulled up and worn as a shawl over the shoulders and head, particularly when in church. Peasant women often wore a capiddina, a round straw hat lined with black canvas, over their mezzaro when working outside. Not all women were veiled; fashionable Corsicans might wear a decorative hair net (reta) or an “angel’s head” (capangelo), a draped turban of white cloth meant to give the impression of a halo. Also popular was a colored silk cap or turban called a scuffia. This could be worn with braids wrapped on top of the scuffia and held in place with pins or ribbons, which were referred to as “antlers” (palchi).


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A yellow silk scuffia with antlers (left) and a reta (right)


All women of status wore some kind of jewelry. A middle class woman might own only a single pair of earrings - perhaps gold (or silver-gilt) hoops or coral pendants - given to her as an engagement gift. Large earrings featuring multiple coral drops or pendants on each ear were very popular among women who could afford them. Coral was popular not only because it was attractive and readily available, but because red coral was thought to have various curative and protective qualities, having long been associated in Europe with vitality, health, and fertility.[2] Coral bead necklaces were worn by practically every woman (and girl) who could afford them. Pearls were also fashionable among the wealthy.

Court fashion at Bastia was heavily influenced by Spanish and Ligurian court dress, which meant above all that the dominant color was black. Men’s court dress was essentially just a more elaborate version of their ordinary costume - a black velvet coat with silver buttons (often with a longer cut than an ordinary mozza), a white cravat of silk or muslin, black knee breeches with white silk stockings, and black leather shoes. The only place to show any personalized flair was the corpetto, which was often brightly colored and embroidered. Men at court were required to have a cocked hat, a cane, and a court sword, although they would not actually wear the hat in the king’s presence. Women were also expected to wear black dresses, and their upper body was largely obscured by a large mezzaro of black silk. By the 1780s the court mezzaro was often made of black lace, resembling the Spanish mantilla. This was partially due to Spanish cultural influence, but also because the transparency of lace allowed court women to show off their fashionable hairstyles, expensive jewelry, and elaborate bodices more effectively.

Although the 18th century was the age of the powdered wig in Europe, Corsica remained largely unaffected by this trend. The most obvious explanation for this is that most Corsican men were bearded, and wigs were considered to be aesthetically incompatible with facial hair. Theodore I and Federico had worn wigs throughout their reigns and were emulated by some nobles, statesmen, and professionals who had decided to go clean-shaven, but after Theodore II stopped wearing wigs at court in the early 1780s the few Corsicans with wigs seems to have disposed of them as well. Women with wigs were almost unheard of, perhaps because women’s hair was usually fully covered anyway. Queen Elisabetta had sometimes worn wigs at court, but Laura preferred her own natural black hair.

Aside from Theo killing off the periwig and bringing back the goatee, 18th century Corsican kings were not as influential in the world of fashion as their wives. Theodore I had attained the throne through victory in war, and both he and his successors emphasized this with a distinctly martial style. The “court dress” of Corsican kings was a military uniform - specifically, a uniform of a colonel of the Guardia Nobile consisting of a black coat with a red lining and decorated with gold embroidery, a red waistcoat, the green sash of the Order of the Redemption, and black breeches with white silk stockings. On the most formal occasions, such as presiding over the consulta generale, the king would also wear a “robe of state,” a long crimson brocade robe with a mantle of ermine fur around the shoulders which was practically identical to the state robe worn by the Doge of Genoa. Corsican kings certainly wore other outfits and Theo was especially particular about his clothes, but the primary objective was always to emphasize military vigor rather than fashion consciousness.[A]


Footnotes
[1] It appears that Theo’s only fellow bearded monarch in Christian Europe was the Prince-Bishop of Montenegro.
[2] If anything, coral was more renowned for health benefits in other countries than in Corsica itself. The British were particularly fond of it as a ward against disease for women and children, and coral necklaces, earrings, hairpins, rings, and other objects were common throughout the 18th and 19th centuries. The mid-18th century British manual The Compleat Midwife went so far as to suggest hanging red coral near the “privities” of women in childbirth, a practice that has not been documented in Corsica.

Timeline Notes
[A] Most of the information on Corsican costume and all of the costume sketches in this chapter are from the work of Rennie Pecqueux-Barboni, an ethnographer with a specialty in historical Corsican dress.
 
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Something dark happened to women’s fashion in Corsica in the 19th century - literally. If you look around for Corsican traditional costume, you will probably come across photographs of late 19th century/early 20th century Corsican women all wearing basically the same outfit - a black dress and a black headscarf. Indeed, this is one of the few photographs I’ve ever come across where a Corsican woman is actually wearing a light-colored dress, as well as a few of her friends having light-colored or patterned headscarves:

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Presumably this had something to do with changing 19th century fashions and the effect of industrialization in the textile industry, but I also suspect that French photographers, ethnographers, etc. thought of the all-black dress as distinctly and traditionally "Corsican" despite being a relatively recent trend. An awareness of Corsica only really enters French popular culture in the 19th century, thanks in large part to works like Colomba (1840) by Prosper Mérimée and The Corsican Brothers (1844) by Alexandre Dumas, both of which feature the vendetta as a central plot point. Corsica came to be defined in French culture by vengeance and banditry, and the titular character of Colomba - a young woman obsessed with avenging her murdered father, and dressed all in black - became the archetypal Corsican woman. In light of that, perhaps it just made sense that the Corsicans had always worn black as their "traditional dress," as though they were in perpetual mourning. Can we really imagine the women of the “land of the vendetta” wearing floral prints and colorful petticoats? Don't they have a funeral to attend or something?
 
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An interesting observartion. Most likely, black clothes were more common because Corsican sheep as you had pointed out in a much earlier chapter had dark brown or black wool and black is generally considered a prettier colour by most, so if those two are equally affordable and available, most people would choose black for more clothes. This becomes a trend and is further exaggerated by the popular stereotype from a continental perspective as you've pointed out here.
 
On a completely different note, I came across this design today and wondered if the Corsicans could take some inspiration from the Baltic for their navy...


Certainly would be an interesting way for them to "punch above their weight." But I'll admit probably a bit beyond what the Corsicans are capable of building right now... maybe later?
 
On a completely different note, I came across this design today and wondered if the Corsicans could take some inspiration from the Baltic for their navy...


Certainly would be an interesting way for them to "punch above their weight." But I'll admit probably a bit beyond what the Corsicans are capable of building right now... maybe later?
Well theoretically they could pay to have someone else build them (assuming they could afford it).

One big thing might be the corsicans adopting Carronades heavily earlier then most. Even better if you can get them to adopt them on pivoting platforms.

Carronades would be attractive for a couple reasons

1) They cost much less then their equivalent pounder long guns
2) If your building them their a lot simpler to build and cheaper.
3) With them you can make a fleet of small fast ships and gunboats into something with the gunpower more typical of a ship of the line. A gunboat that might only be able to carry say a couple 9 pounders might here be able to maintain say 3 or 4 36 pounder or even 42 pounders. At extreme close ranges you can double shot them.
4) For the corsicans Carronades don't need as high quality gunners then long guns. You just need to get close enough and then fire. For a fleet consisting of a number of light sloops and gunboats their perfect.


Maybe have the original creator foundry in Scotland come up with them a bit earlier and have them produce a few dozen as a speculative measure. Only to fail to quickly find buyers. Followed by say a patriotic Corsican Jew in Britain (or something of the like) finding out from the foundry owner and buying the lot at discount and donating them to the Corsican navy. Say two dozen 24 pounders, a dozen 32 or 36 pounders and half a dozen 42 pounder carronades.

Have them prove themselves well in Corsican service and it might lead to orders from the RN and others.
 
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