Drawing the Line
Map of the Strait of Bonifacio and the Intermediate Isles
It is clear in retrospect that neither France nor Spain seriously entertained a preemptive invasion of Corsica. The event they feared most, an occupation of Corsican ports by the British Navy, never seemed likely and was particularly implausible in 1780-81 with the British Navy practically absent from the Mediterranean. Although the French had supported Spain’s attempt to close Corsican ports to the British on strategic grounds, they also told the Spanish government that they would
not support any sort of ultimatum. Since the start of the war, the British had claimed the right to stop and search neutral ships for “contraband,” behavior widely considered to be an illegal breach of neutral rights. The French government had eagerly taken advantage of this by declaring their war to be a struggle for the “rights of nations” against Britain’s “tyranny of the sea” and its arrogant disregard for neutral states. Invading Corsica, which had shown no hostility towards the Bourbon powers, would have undermined France’s entire framing of the war. Had the Matra ministry refused to close its ports it surely would have damaged relations with Spain and France, but it almost certainly would not have resulted in military action.
The Corsican government - under both Matra and Paoli - also overestimated the degree to which the ban on British shipping would impact their trade. A large amount of pre-war merchant traffic in the port of Ajaccio was British, but the war
itself would have decimated this trade even if the port had remained open. Moreover, the gap created by the loss of British shipping everywhere in the Mediterranean was soon filled by the merchant fleets of neutral states, particularly those of Denmark-Norway. Departures of Danish ships bound for Mediterranean ports more than doubled over the course of the American Revolutionary War, rising as high as 400 departures per year.
Of course the Corsican state was not privy to all this information, and thus the new
de facto first minister Pasquale Paoli was obliged to proceed with caution.
[1] Although Paoli had supported an “impartial” neutrality in the council and King Theo now regretted his decision to bend to Spain’s demands, Paoli insisted that it was unwise for the government to go back on its word. To tear up the agreement with Spain because of a ministerial reshuffle - and
after the Spanish had started holding up their end of the bargain by providing needed armaments - would ruin the credibility of the state and impugn the honor of the king. Whatever mistakes had been made by the previous administration, Corsica had made its bed and now would have to lie in it - at least until the war was over.
Paoli was also sensitive to the fact that the Bourbon courts regarded him with deep suspicion. Although his return to Corsica upon a British fleet was now two decades in the past, to France and Spain he was still “English Paoli.” The Spanish envoy Martín de Valdés warned his superiors that Matra’s resignation was a serious blow to Spanish influence in Corsica and that Paoli might “again” seek to give Britain a strategic advantage in the Mediterranean. France’s minister Jean de Baschi, comte de Saint-Estève, reported that all the Anglophiles of Corsica were “cheering” Paoli’s appointment. The new foreign minister Don Giovan Cuneo d’Ornano went to work trying to smooth ruffled feathers, but Paoli felt that the best way to convince the Bourbons that he was not a threat was to keep faith with Spain.
As the new government was handling this crisis, it was also attempting to resolve a more serious and fundamental crisis of the state’s fiscal affairs. Unable to pay its basic expenses, the government was sinking ever deeper into debt. Although Federico’s fiscal reforms had increased revenue, these gains were canceled out by his expanded military budget. The state kept just over a thousand regular soldiers under arms, which though small in absolute terms consumed nearly all of the country’s revenue. Military spending had increased further under Theodore II, who had disbanded the expensive foreign
Trabanti but more than made up for this by acquiring a whole new fleet. Paoli envisioned slashing the military budget to focus on paying the debt and funding internal improvements, but the outbreak of war made this politically untenable.
Further complicating this problem was a growing chorus of outrage from Ajaccio, where the coral industry was facing a number of headwinds. Competition was increasing all over the Western Mediterranean. Although the largest number of
corallieri were actually from Naples, the intrusions of the Genoese were particularly galling as they exploited coral in Corsica’s “own” waters and operated from nearby Bonifacio. The industry, already getting more precarious, now looked as though it might be plunged into disaster by the war. The British, the largest buyers of finished coral (mainly beads) at Ajaccio were now banned, while coral fishing was becoming increasingly hazardous as Barbary corsairs used the distraction of the major powers to step up their attacks. Boat owners pooled their resources to hire armed escorts, but this cut into profits. Corsica's one advantage was Tabarka, where Corsican
corallieri enjoyed a monopoly from their relationship with the British-owned Barbary Company, but there was some doubt as to whether this relationship would survive the war.
Paoli placed great importance on trade, but he was also a man of the Castagniccia who was more interested in land reform and the agricultural economy than in coral, which was a lucrative and prestigious but rather niche industry that was of little importance to most Corsicans. Nevertheless, this constituency could not just be ignored, and not just because of its importance as a tax base. Much of Corsica’s debt had been negotiated through Jewish intermediaries who had family and business connections in London and Amsterdam. Jews living in Corsica obviously had an interest in the state’s continued functioning, while many of their family members and compatriots supported the “Theodoran experiment” in Jewish emancipation and wanted it to succeed. By working through these channels the government had been able to procure better interest rates than Corsica’s abysmal credit might otherwise suggest, but this meant that satisfying those families - many of whom were merchants, manufacturers, and financiers involved in the coral trade - was about more than just coral, but the state’s very ability to remain solvent.
In March of 1781, as the sailing season approached, the king signed a decree banning all Genoese vessels from fishing (for coral or otherwise) off the Corsican coast. This was not the first time a state had asserted maritime sovereignty in this way, but the decree was notable for specifically targeting the Genoese. Subsequent to its promulgation, Minister of War Innocenzo di Mari gave the following instruction to Secretary of the Navy Giulio Francesco Baciocchi:
If any Genoese vessels, contrary to the orders of the king, are found loitering or fishing one league from any shore of the kingdom, you will make all haste to capture them and bring them to Ajaccio or Bastia.[2]
Secretary Baciocchi was more than happy to vigorously enforce this request. He belonged to a distinguished family of Ajaccio which had held a place on the council of
anziani for generations. Don Giulio himself was a merchant and naval patron (that is, he owned and invested in fishing and merchant ships) and had been chosen for the post because of this background. Genoese fishing in Corsican waters was not merely a matter of policy to him, but a threat to his own family interests.
18th century depiction of coral being gathered from shallow waters off Sicily
On May 20th, the Corsican schooner
Arcipelago encountered five Genoese coral boats just north of the Isle of Maddalena, 15 miles from Bonifacio. This was nowhere near the Corsican mainland, and when the coral boats were forcibly boarded the fishermen complained that this was an illegal and piratical attack. The schooner’s captain, Sebastiano Piccioni, replied that since His Most Serene Majesty King Federico had (briefly) established a post on the island in 1773, Maddalena and all the
Isole delle Bocche (“Isles of the Straits”) were claimed by Corsica, and it was thus the fishermen who were in violation of the law. Piccioni put prize crews on all five boats and took them to Ajaccio, where their coral was confiscated. After being interrogated, they were then returned to their boats and ordered to stay out of Corsican waters.
The Genoese government denounced this outrageous act against their citizens. They declared Piccioni to be a pirate and accused the Corsican government of breaching the Treaty of Monaco, as they considered the Corsican claim to the
Isole delle Bocche to be completely specious. In Turin, the Genoese envoy presented the Corsican envoy with a demand for compensation for Piccioni’s “act of piracy.”
The Corsican government offered no immediate response, as they had not authorized Piccioni's action. While Corsica had never abandoned the claim to the
Isole delle Bocche which Federico had made in 1773, neither Paoli nor Mari had thought to place these disputed islands in the exclusive zone. Piccioni was acting under orders from Secretary Baciocchi, who had taken it upon himself to interpret Mari’s instructions and decided that “any shore of the kingdom” also included the shore of Maddalena where Federico’s troops had raised the Moor’s Head. Foreign Minister Giovan Francesco Cuneo d’Ornano was less than pleased with the naval secretary taking such liberties with the kingdom’s foreign policy, particularly at a time of such danger, but the idea of “compensating” the Genoese was anathema.
What worried Cuneo d’Ornano was not the Genoese, but the Sardinians. Sardinia had raised its own claim to the
Isole delle Bocche in 1773, and it had been largely due to Sardinia’s opposition that Federico had backed off. Since that point, however, Corso-Sardinian relations had improved considerably. King Carlo Emanuele III had died shortly thereafter, and the houses of Savoy and Neuhoff had been linked in 1777 by the marriage of Princess Lisa of Corsica and Prince Filippo Savoy-Carignano, Count of Villafranca. Shortly after Piccioni returned to port, Cuneo d’Ornano held private talks with the Sardinian envoy Count Amadeo Tana di Santena. Tana maintained his government’s claim, but Sardinia shared an interest in protecting its own waters from exploitation. The Savoyard state was very much a newcomer to maritime affairs, but had been attempting to expand its naval presence ever since acquiring the port of Finale in 1748.
Once assured that the Sardinians were not going to intervene at this stage, Paoli felt confident enough to call Genoa’s bluff. Two weeks after the incident, Cuneo d’Ornano replied to Genoa via his envoy at Turin and stated that Piccioni had acted lawfully, that no compensation would be forthcoming, and that the Genoese should be prepared for more seizures if they continued to fish in Corsican waters. The Genoese replied to this insult by placing a punitive tariff on raw and finished coral from Corsica, which was subsequently expanded to Corsican wine as well.
The “Maddalena Incident” provided Paoli and his fellow ministers with some intriguing information. Firstly, Piccioni’s action had been very popular in Ajaccio, and not just among the coral merchants who invited him to a banquet held in his honor. A large crowd of Ajaccini fishermen and sailors had gathered to cheer the crew of the
Arcipelago - and to hurl abuse at the Genoese fishermen as they were being led ashore. Secondly, it appeared that the Genoese were either unwilling or unable to defend their rights at sea or to offer any military response. Thirdly, nobody had come to Genoa’s defense - neither Sardinia, nor the Bourbons (who were quite busy at the moment), nor the Austrians.
During a subsequent meeting of the Council of State, Cuneo d’Ornano brought another matter of interest to the council’s attention. Genoa’s tariff appeared to be directly at odds with one of the terms of the Treaty of Monaco, to wit:
The signatories shall not close their ports to the ships of the other signatory or their nationals which are engaged in lawful commerce so long as those ports are open to the ships of other nations, nor shall they levy discriminatory or unjust tariffs or excises upon them.
The Genoese could (and did) make the argument that Corsica had violated the treaty
first by occupying Maddalena and illegally seizing Genoese property, but it could at least be argued (if not entirely convincingly) that this was something of a gray area. Genoa’s tariff, however, was plainly “discriminatory.” The republic had just handed the Corsicans a
casus belli on a silver platter.
War was not an obvious choice for a small state with an untested military which was already struggling under a considerable amount of debt. As they discussed the matter, however, the ministers realized that a
successful war might solve several of their problems at once. A war against the Genoese, particularly if Bonifacio could be taken, would greatly satisfy the Ajaccini and might benefit the coral trade in the long term. It would allow the unsustainably large army to be usefully employed before Paoli was forced to gut the military budget, which he saw as inevitable even if it had been delayed by the present American War. It might even make a profit, as Genoese coral boats and merchant ships could be seized. Cuneo d’Ornano raised the possibility of selling Corsica’s claim to the “intermediate isles” to the Sardinians, which - if they were willing - would not only raise some much-needed cash but would satisfy Turin’s strategic interests. If Bonifacio could be acquired, losing a few uninhabited rocks would be no great loss, particularly if fishing and grazing rights could be negotiated with Turin.
King Theo listened to his council discuss all these potential benefits, as well as the attendant risks. Yet the chief attraction of the war for him may have been something else entirely. The capture of Bonifacio and the “completion” of the Corsican Revolution had been his father’s dream; Federico had believed it would finally win him the popularity that he deserved and show that he was an able successor to the great Theodore, Father of the Nation. If Theo could succeed where Federico had failed, he would not only be able to take that mantle for himself, but would prove beyond any doubt that he was a greater king than his father ever was - a worthy heir to the name of Theodore.
Footnotes
[1] Although the post of
primo ministro had fallen into abeyance with Matra’s resignation, as the vice-president of the council and its most influential member Paoli was effectively Theo’s first minister and will be referred to as such in this text. This reduced the number of seats on the Council of State to five (excluding the king): chancellery, finance, war, foreign affairs, and justice (held by Paoli himself).
[2] A “league” in this context was originally defined as the Spanish
legua geographica of approximately 6,353 meters, but this was quickly superseded by the adoption of the Danish
geografisk mil for naval purposes, which was equivalent to four equatorial arcminutes or about 7,420 meters. That was the limit of the exclusive fishing zone claimed by Denmark-Norway around this time, and the Corsicans may have learned of it from Danish traders who became increasingly common at Ajaccio from 1780.