The Turbulent Isle
Maréchal de Camp the Marquis de Laval
The commanding officer of the French forces in Corsica,
Guy-André-Pierre de Montmorency, Marquis de Laval, reported soon after his arrival that the response of the islanders to French occupation was that of peaceful, even eager acceptance. Urged by their leaders to submit peacefully, the Corsicans did not resist, and not a shot was fired despite the sudden and not entirely cordial manner in which the French had arrived. Laval’s impression of the situation, however, was colored by his decision to make his headquarters at Calvi. From a military point of view, this was sensible: Calvi boasted the strongest fortress on the island and it lay the closest to France. Yet Calvi was also not very representative of the rest of Corsica. Its population remained largely Corso-Genoese, mostly pre-Revolutionary residents who had swallowed their
filogenovesi pride and opted to stay put, along with a minority of Genoese emigres who had fled the crackdown on the Assembly government in 1750. The old residents had never really warmed to the new regime and saw the French as their friends and protectors; in the siege of 1745, after all, it had been the French who defended their city while the British and
naziunali reduced their homes to rubble. It was no wonder that they welcomed Laval and his Frenchmen with open arms.
The case of Ajaccio was altogether different. Here, too, the initial French occupation had gone smoothly, helped by the ready cooperation (
too ready, some said) of the regional
luogotenente Marquis
Luca d’Ornano. Although the Ajaccini were in the main more “Corsican” and more sympathetic to the Theodoran state than the Calvesi, they were not necessarily die-hard
naziunali and did strenuously object to a few battalions of Frenchmen taking up residence in the citadel. It did not take long, however, for the French to seriously alienate one of the city’s most important groups - its coral fishermen.
Ajaccio’s coral fishermen did not exclusively work in Tunisian waters, but the Tabarka concession was nevertheless valuable. This outpost off the Tunisian coast, acquired by the British just a few years before, was the lone survivor of the French Mediterranean offensive of 1756; the French considered it to be a low priority and simply did not have the time or resources to pursue it before British reinforcements arrived in the theater. The French had placed their hopes in a proxy,
Muhammad Rashid, who sought to overthrow his reigning cousin
Ali Pasha, the Bey of Tunis, who had himself usurped the crown from Muhammad’s late father. Muhammad Rashid finally struck in the autumn of 1756, backed with French funds and the forces of the Dey of Algiers. This operation, however, quickly turned into a shockingly brutal and destructive civil war in which Muhammad Rashid, Ali Pasha,
and the French consul in Tunis all ended up getting murdered. The implosion of the Tunisian state was not exactly
good for the British, but at least it meant that no native power would be working with the French to eject them from Tabarka in the immediate future. It also meant that, since Tabarka remained an active British base, the French authorities in Corsica prohibited the Ajaccini from having any contact with the outpost.
This was a particularly foolish act because it incensed the Corsicans without actually accomplishing anything. With the French navy having withdrawn to Toulon, Laval and his officers in Ajaccio could not possibly enforce their prohibition directly, and thus took to interrogating fishermen and brokers returning from their voyages. Those who were suspected of breaking the ban had their cargoes impounded and sometimes their boats as well. The accused took their grievances to the local courts, but this was usually a futile effort as the French did not feel themselves bound by the rulings of Corsican judges. It was widely suspected by the fishermen that, just as with Bertin’s coral taxes, Laval’s ban was really just a means to spare French coral fishermen from competition (which was not actually true, as the
Compagnie Royale D’Afrique had suspended all operations in Tunisia as a consequence of the civil war and the patrols of the British Navy).
Tensions in the city were further exacerbated by French efforts to raise military forces in Corsica, and in particular the involvement of the Greeks in this affair. Since the fall of the city to the
naziunali, the Corsican Greeks had remained a distrusted minority. Although Theodore had treated them favorably, he had lacked the resources to resettle them elsewhere, and bowing to the demands of the Corsicans he had declared that the Greek community should remain disarmed. In early 1757, the Busacci brothers - the very same Greek brothers who had led the failed “uprising” against the
naziunali following the surrender of Ajaccio - received approval from the French commandant in Ajaccio, Colonel
Jean Baptiste Calixte, Marquis de Montmorin, to begin forming a volunteer cavalry unit under French sponsorship. This not only contradicted the government’s prohibition on the Greeks carrying arms, but infuriated the Corsicans of Ajaccio, who saw the Greeks in general and the Busacci brothers in particular as traitors and resented being policed by armed Greeks as in Genoese times.
Ajaccio’s other notable minority, the Jewish community, was pushed in the opposite direction. Most Jewish families in Ajaccio were involved in the coral industry in some fashion and perceived the French restrictions on the coral fishermen as an attack on their own livelihood as well. The situation was not helped by the fact that Laval suspected from the start that the Jews were inclined to be hostile foreign agents, as he was aware that the Jews which had settled in Menorca under British rule had supported the garrison against the French invasion. The situation was further strained by the arrival of a new wave of Jewish immigration in 1757, a consequence of the Tunisian civil war and the “terror regime” in Tunis led by Ali Pasha’s vicious and tyrannical son
Younis. Alarmed by the influx of Jews into the city, in February of 1757 Montmorin banned the Jews from residing in the upper town and ordered them to be moved to the
Borgu (the suburbs), considering them to be a threat to security.
Until mid-1757, discontent with the French occupation remained largely contained within Ajaccio. It was perhaps inevitable, however, that the French “mission” in Corsica would evolve from mere port protection to exploitation. As the French attempted to capitalize on their victory at Menorca with a naval building program to contest the sea with the British, they soon found themselves facing shortages of all kinds of naval stores. There were not enough guns to arm the ships coming off the blocks, forcing the French to substitute smaller caliber guns and strip coastal batteries of their cannon. Masts, timbers, and all other naval stores were in equally short supply. Corsica, an island rich in timber and pine resin, was an obvious source for some of these much-needed goods.
A dense grove of Corsican Pine in the Restonica Valley
In principle, at least, the French had promised in the Convention of Ajaccio that all exactions from Corsica would be compensated fairly. Because cash was in short supply, however, and because Corsica already owed France a considerable debt, Laval began “compensating” the Corsican government by giving them credit towards that debt. This was all well and good but it did not put any real money in Corsican government coffers, which meant that despite being “compensated” on paper the Corsican government did not actually have the hard currency necessary to pay workers and farmers whose product was appropriated by the French garrison. The government resorted to increasingly dubious schemes to remain solvent, including taking on more debt, assessing “advance taxes” on the promise of lower taxes in the future, and demanding cash payments on taxes and fees that could ordinarily be paid in kind.
The Corsicans also bore more direct effects of French demands. Since 1756 Laval’s men had conscripted local labor to help repair and modernize the defenses of the
presidi. This was not popular, but it was paid (albeit not very well) and it appeared to be for the benefit of the occupied towns. French demand for naval stores, however, convinced Laval to order the implementation of Bertin’s abandoned corvée scheme in order to build roads into the wooded valleys of upper Corsica, as military labor proved to be insufficient to the task. This was bitterly - and sometimes violently - resisted by the locals, who aside from a rather meager wage saw no benefit to the French trying to haul away their forests. By 1757 the French had also begun directly seizing ships for the war effort, necessary to replace the enormous volume of merchant shipping which had been lost to British privateers and cruisers. Rarely were these seizures compensated at anywhere near the actual value of the ships. Not even the Corsican Navy was spared, and
Salvatore Viale, the Secretary of the Navy, quietly ordered the “frigate”
Cyrne and several smaller ships to relocate to Malta to avoid possible seizure.
Laval’s efforts to secure Corsica and use its resources for the benefit of the war effort also conflicted with the interests of the other major foreign party in Corsica, the Dutch traders of the
Nederlands-Corsicaanse Compagnie. Although the States General carefully maintained the neutrality of the Dutch Republic in the present war, Laval suspected that the NCC’s sympathies were with the British and considered their privileged position to be both a strategic and commercial threat to France. Laval could not actually terminate the company’s agreement with the Corsican government, but he could seize the timber and naval stores the NCC required to repair and maintain their ships (arguing that these were strategic resources needed for the French war effort) and dispatched soldiers to the NCC’s “factory town” of Isola Rossa to inspect their warehouses and cargoes. The Dutch found themselves between two fires, harassed both by the French in Corsica and by English privateers at sea who did not always strenuously observe the rights of neutral ships.
These mounting pressures were aired publicly at the
consulta generale of August 1757. Every
consulta generale thus far had been rather politically diffuse and disorganized; each delegate came with his own ideas and his own concerns, and there were no real political parties or other coherent attempts to define or advance a
platform aside from narrow shared interests among delegates from the same
pieve or
presidio. This remained largely true in 1757, but the events of the past year resulted in a few outspoken dissenters making the “French situation” a topic of general debate. The
procuratori unexpectedly turned their ire towards the Marquis de Laval himself, who was once more in attendance but swiftly came to regret it as the delegates subjected him to withering verbal attacks. Rather than taking this on the chin, Laval left the
consulta later that morning. The attacks continued in his absence, but soon the
procuratori turned on Gaffori and d’Ornano, who were accused of being French doormats.
The controversy at the
consulta of 1757 did not actually result in any concrete action; it was a public airing of grievances by a vocal minority. Nor did it indicate a real revolutionary spirit, as just because the
procuratori felt brave enough to denounce Laval to his face did not mean that they were ready to take up arms. Theodore himself suffered no criticism, for his reputation remained unassailable, and although Gaffori was made into the general whipping-boy at Corti he still enjoyed the confidence of the king, which was the only thing he needed to remain in power. Nevertheless, the
consulta was not without consequence. The events of the
consulta disseminated stories of French abuses, which had been fairly localized, across the island. Gaffori resolved to press the French for better terms, but Laval had taken his treatment at Corti as a personal humiliation and was no longer interested in compromise.
The man most determined to inflame this crack into an open breach was Don
Giovan, Principe di Morosaglia, who had long been at odds with Count Gaffori and was delighted to watch him squirm in front of the
procuratori. Don Giovan was not a master of politics, but the opportunity this presented to him was too obvious to miss. Opposition to the French occupation was not only a means to strike at Gaffori, but a way to diminish the popular standing of Don
Federico, Principe di Capraia by way of his conspicuously French wife
Elisabeth d’Harcourt, and given his own reputation as a indomitable anti-French
machiaro Don Giovan was a perfect fit for the role of an agitator against the “unjust” occupation. He did not call publicly for war - not yet, anyway - but became a harsh critic of French “confiscations,” forced labor, and exemptions from Corsican law. While the prince neither wrote editorials nor started up a speaking tour, he still had a great deal of respect among the interior Corsicans and privately encouraged their leaders to resist not only French demands but the government’s own policies which served the French.
While Don Giovan’s agitation was targeted mainly at inland Corsicans and their sense of national honor, resistance was also growing in Ajaccio. In the autumn of 1757, pamphlets written by a certain “Giovanni Verde”
[1] began to appear in the city decrying French abuses and claiming that the ultimate plan of King
Louis XV was to conquer the island and sell it back to the Genoese. It was immediately declared to be contraband by Montmorin, but the city council objected, insisting that the French - who were, after all, only there for their protection - had no right to ban literature or arrest Corsicans for reading it. In an attempt to mollify them, Montmorin demanded that d’Ornano deal with the matter. D’Ornano complied, ordering the presidial dragoons to arrest anyone in possession of the pamphlets, but this was somewhat less than successful; in one instance the dragoons tried to arrest a man in the middle of the day who was reading a pamphlet only to find themselves pelted with trash and stones by the angry residents, forcing them to retreat without their perpetrator.
The origin of the “Verde Pamphlets” was especially mysterious because there was at the time no printing press in Ajaccio. Montmorin came shortly to suspect the Jews were behind it, and not entirely without reason; a stack of them was discovered on board a Livornesi ship partly owned by a Jewish merchant, and Livorno was the site of several Jewish-owned printing houses with close connections to certain Ajaccio Jewish families. This evidence was circumstantial but it was sufficient for Montmorin to order invasive searches of Jewish homes and cargoes, night raids of their properties, and the shuttering of the small house which was serving as the community’s synagogue (which the colonel referred to in a letter as a “den of vile conspiracies”). If Montmorin expected that his actions would only upset the helpless Jews, however, he was sorely mistaken. It was not much of a stretch for the Corsicans to imagine that they too might have their homes raided by Frenchmen in the night, particularly since the Jews were hardly the only ones reading “Verde’s” missives. The city council, which had not opposed the banishment of the Jews from the upper town and had complained to Theodore about the new influx of Jews from Tunis, suddenly rallied to their defense and demanded that French troops not be used for what was clearly a Corsican law enforcement matter. Montmorin, pointing out that the Convention said the French were there in part to preserve the “peace and order” of the Corsican
presidi, brushed this demand aside.
Despite the agitation of Don Giovan and “Verde,” even as the winter of 1757 approached Corsica was not the roiling cauldron of insurrection which Ambassador
Pasquale Paoli was describing to statesmen in London. Arguably only Ajaccio met that criteria, and even there popular anger against the French did not necessarily mean that the citizens were ready to take up arms in revolt. As luck would have it, however, when Rear Admiral
Charles Saunders received orders in October of 1757 to collect intelligence on the situation in Corsica, his main sources of information were British Livornesi merchants whose information came mainly from Livornesi traders (including many Jews) who did business mainly in Ajaccio. Saunders was thus led to believe that Ajaccio was representative of the general situation in Corsica as opposed to being a local hotbed of sedition.
Saunders’s orders had come about as a consequence of the fall of Newcastle and the rise of
William Pitt, who was now Secretary of State for the Southern Department and, though not prime minister, the most prominent man in government. Although Pitt was a critic of Hanoverian policy and an advocate of pursuing the war in the colonies, it was not possible to ignore Hanover altogether so long as he served as the king’s minister, particularly now that the electorate had been left vulnerable by the desertion of the Empress-Queen
Maria Theresa from her old alliance with Britain. Pitt still opposed British “boots on the ground” in Germany but it was necessary for the British to do
something besides bankrolling the Hanoverian “army of observation” (a mostly German force).
[A] The solution, to Pitt, was a policy of “naval descents” - that is, amphibious raids - which were intended not only to damage France directly by “disturbing and shaking the Credit of their Public Loans” and “impairing the Strength and Resources of their Navy,” but to “compel the enemy to employ in their own Defence a considerable Part of their forces designed to invade [Hanover].”
Places of Note in the Mediterranean Theater
An intervention in Corsica offered only a partial fulfillment of these goals. Certainly it seemed plausible that taking the island would impair French naval efforts, as well as causing economic damage to France (and sparing the same to Britain) by its utility as a base for privateers. It could not, however, compel the French to shift their forces from Germany; control of the sea around Corsica was necessary for such an operation, and if Britain could achieve this control the French would be hard pressed to reinforce their Corsican garrisons even if they thought it desirable. But just as important as any strategic goal was the anticipated effect of a successful invasion on British morale, which was flagging after the disaster at Menorca and other setbacks. Corsica was possibly an even greater prize than Menorca, and if as Paoli claimed its “liberation” could be accomplished with forces already on hand it would also be more cheaply bought than Menorca, an exceedingly strong fortress with a prodigious garrison.
Unlike Menorca, however, the conquest of Corsica presented several possible approaches. Although the British hoped, as Paoli assured them, that the Corsicans would rise up with a mere demonstration, Pitt and his advisors agreed that the British landing should take the form of an attack against one of the three French garrisons so as not to waste the element of surprise and to ensure that the “demonstration” was as effective as possible. Calvi was quickly discounted; the British had taken it once before, but only with significant “native” assistance and the exploitation of an undefended cove which the French, if they had learned their lesson, would not be leaving undefended a second time. San Fiorenzo was more feasible, but the bay was considered to be very well defended, suggesting that a British attack would have to be made via a landing at Bastia and a march overland into the Nebbio. This would be logistically challenging, give the French advance warning, and deny the British the use of their naval artillery.
This left Ajaccio. The city’s key weakness which had allowed the rebels to capture it in 1743, the position of the heights of Aspretto overlooking the harbor, still remained. The British were unsure whether “Fort Costa,” the position which the rebels had constructed on this hill, still existed - and, if so, whether it was garrisoned by the French - but if it could be taken, the French garrison would be at the mercy of the British. Surely if the ragtag Corsican rebels had managed to subdue the city in this manner, the armed forces of Great Britain could manage it with ease. It was thus decided that the primary blow would fall here, at Ajaccio. This would be followed by an expedition against Bastia which would force Theodore’s government to fall in line (if Ajaccio alone was not sufficient), allow the British to deliver arms and munitions to the patriotic farmers of the
Diqua who were ready to throw off the Bourbon yoke (or so claimed Paoli), and potentially set up an attack on San Fiorenzo. Calvi, as ever the toughest nut to crack, would be left for last, once the full support of the Corsicans had been secured.
Footnotes
[1] Or “John Green.” It is generally assumed that
Verde was a reference to the color of the royalist cockade during the Revolution.
Timeline Notes
[A] As you can see, by 1757 this timeline's "diplomatic revolution" has indeed happened to the extent that Austria has abandoned Britain and Britain has turned to Prussia. I think the switching of alliances would be hard to avoid; even if Frederick had
not acted first in OTL, it appears that Austria was planning their own offensive in the following year, and they had no intention of going to war with France at the same time. How exactly this all unfolds ITTL is, for now, a mystery, but it will not be following the exact same course of events as OTL.