Quite the victory! Now all the Corsicans have to do is hunker down and wait for the mess that this is going to start to unravel the Franco-Genoan (and soon Imperial) situation.
 
Let's see....

Boissieux is probably finished. Fleury & Co. were getting tired of him earlier, and now his entire strategy has been embarrassed by an "impossible" defeat. Which means that the upcoming Coalition of Doom is probably going to be headed by a new commander on the French side, who will be facing all the challenges of establishing himself in addition to the difficulties that the coalition will involve.

Verdict: Omnishambles approaching.
 
Theodore's poem you posted sounds plain horrible to me.

:closedeyesmile: Oh well, we can't all be great poets.

A victory! Pity that the Corsi went so agonizingly close to a decisive defeat od the French contingent!

Giuseppe's "maneuver" was rather poorly considered - he was trying to box in the whole French army with about 300 militiamen. The only way it would have worked, I would think, is if the French had truly routed and lost all cohesion, but that didn't happen.

I thought the Hussars would be less than 200 by now and also, didn't Boissieux leave more than 1000 of his 4.500 soldiers as a garrison before starting his expedition to the interior? I probably have the numbers quite mixed up...

I have purposefully played a bit fast and loose with the numbers ITTL to reflect that we typically don't have exact troop and casualty counts for 18th century warfare, particularly in a "minor" campaigns and battles like this (they're major to the Corsicans, but not to anybody else). Notably, the wikibox differs from the update - the update uses the 4,000 figure, while the wikibox claims 4,000 infantry and 200 horse. Suffice it to say that Boissieux's force was somewhere in the range of 3,500-4,200 men.

As for the hussars, that figure could be interpreted in either of two ways: the wikibox author is using the nominal, rather than actual figure for Rattsky's regiment (which is 200); or the badly depleted Esterhazy squadron (all ~40 of them left) was rolled into Rattsky's command for purposes of this battle (which would make sense, as Baron Rattsky is a marechal de camp, while the Esterhazy squadron's commander Zsigmond David is merely a Lieutenant-Colonel).

One point, where exactly are the Austrians going to garrison in their expedition? For all the political delays and mountains and royalist defenses, the French still basically have conquered the lowlands but for d'Ornano's territory in the Dila and the remaining Genoese outposts. How can the Austrians get to Theodore to defeat him in the first place?

Historically, the Austrian proposal involved splitting the island into occupation zones, postwar Germany style. IOTL, however, the Austrian intervention was proposed at a time when the island was very nearly pacified and there was almost no "rebel territory" left; things are obviously different ITTL. I'll address this in the coming updates soon enough.
 
Historically, the Austrian proposal involved splitting the island into occupation zones, postwar Germany style. IOTL, however, the Austrian intervention was proposed at a time when the island was very nearly pacified and there was almost no "rebel territory" left; things are obviously different ITTL. I'll address this in the coming updates soon enough.

In essence, the Austrians and the French are going to be fiddling for days/weeks/months on some agreement on who goes where.

And even when they get it, they'll probably still fight over it.
 
:closedeyesmile: Oh well, we can't all be great poets.
Google Translate is probably an improvement:
"What between us four Kings, counting Poland,
Quickly get ready for a festive treat
I charge myself for pouring Burgundy,
To the other three it remains to hold by the corner
This beautiful and mysterious tablecloth
Who should serve at the Pope's table,
Some nice day of recreation.
For Pierre it was only a simple vision:
But very real thing, a Pope is infallible,
At his voice, nothing is inflexible.
Heaven itself, Heaven depends on its will;
But for humility, though a sovereign guide,
I want, he says, to Kings, to share my power,
Drive, my dear Sons, my Mule by the Bride."
:evilsmile:
 
Google Translate is probably an improvement:
"What between us four Kings, counting Poland,
Quickly get ready for a festive treat
I charge myself for pouring Burgundy,
To the other three it remains to hold by the corner
This beautiful and mysterious tablecloth
Who should serve at the Pope's table,
Some nice day of recreation.
For Pierre it was only a simple vision:
But very real thing, a Pope is infallible,
At his voice, nothing is inflexible.
Heaven itself, Heaven depends on its will;
But for humility, though a sovereign guide,
I want, he says, to Kings, to share my power,
Drive, my dear Sons, my Mule by the Bride."
:evilsmile:

When Google Translate improves things (which I agree it does here) your poetry has problems to say the least. :D
But well, indeed one does not need to be a decent poet to be a decent king, not in eighteenth century Corsica at least.
 
The google translate version is actually wonderfully surreal in a sense - you get a sense of irony that I'm fairly confident was unintended in the original, although I don't speak French. That said, I hope the pun "I charge myself for pouring Burgundy" was original, although I doubt it.
 
The King in the Mountains
The King in the Mountains

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Corti in winter

The Battle of Ponte Novu, at a stroke, made casualties of roughly 1 in 8 French soldiers on Corsica. The French intervention force remained comparatively strong, even unassailable in the coastal territories which it occupied (where it was also supported by Genoese forces), but such a loss diminished the ability of the French to occupy restive provinces, further stretching an already overextended army. Just as meaningful was the damage to French morale. No army, however disciplined, would have been unaffected by witnessing such tremendous bloodletting and the decimation of their comrades at the hands of mere "bandits" - and in exchange for nothing. Nor was this defeat followed by a respite in many parts of French-occupied Corsica, for winter did not stop the attacks of Corsican irregulars and maquisards. Having to constantly watch for such attacks further frayed the nerves of the men. Denied an opportunity to respond militarily, they and their officers frequently lashed out at the occupied population, which only provided the rebels with more recruits and sympathizers.

The mood was considerably lighter in Corti, but the royalists had bought themselves only time, not a permanent settlement. King Theodore was quite aware that the victory which had been gained at Ponte Novu had only been gained thanks to overwhelmingly favorable circumstances for his defending force. A large-scale offensive campaign against the French was by no means guaranteed to succeed, and might well backfire, squandering manpower, morale, and the "mystique of victory" which once more surrounded the king. Although there was pressure from some of the king's generals to "liberate" the Castagniccia, Theodore was for these reasons reluctant to agree.

Two days after the Battle of Ponte Novu, the Zicavesi commander Carlo Lusinchi had arrived at Morosaglia with 150 men. Their presence was something of a novelty, as militia forces in the Dila had rarely rendered assistance in the north, but the Zicavesi were reputed to be fanatical royalists and had decided to come to the defense of the king. Much to Lusinchi's chagrin, they arrived too late to participate in the battle, but as the most senior commander from the Dila who was actually present he was invited to attend the war council. Lusinchi described the inroads which the Genoese had made in the south, mainly by terror and coercion rather than military skill. Unlike the southwest, where Marquis Luca d'Ornano was the dominant figure, the eastern Dila had no effective overall command. The highest-ranking commander there was Count Michele Durazzo, who was preoccupied with maintaining control over Sartena, and whose authority outside La Rocca was slim. Without any "royal army" present to oppose them, the Genoese had been able to gradually reduce Corsican communities piecemeal which were already demoralized by reports of rebel defeats in the north.

The winter strategy of the royalists, hammered out by Theodore, Captain-General Marquis Simone Fabiani, and the minister of war Major General Count Marc-Antonio Giappiconi, was clearly informed by Lusinchi's information. By now all the Corsican generals had learned a healthy respect for the French, but they regarded the Genoese with contempt. With the only French forces in the Dila bottled up at Ajaccio, the Genoese would have no support from their more competent allies. While Theodore himself would remain in at Corti, several Guard companies would be sent back with Lusinchi along with munitions and money to raise the Talavesi milita and launch attacks against the Genoese in Fiumorbo and the countryside of Porto Vecchio. These forces were placed under the overall authority of the recently promoted Lieutenant-General Francesco Peretti, a native of Zicavo and commander of the pieve. Concerning matters in the western Dila, Theodore wrote to his "nephew" Matthias von Drost instructing him to lend all possible aid to Durazzo at Sartene. Meanwhile, in the north irregular operations would be continued by Johann Friedrich von Neuhoff zu Rauschenburg in the Balagna and Count Andrea Ceccaldi in the Castagniccia, while Marquis Fabiani would remain in overall command of the regular and militia forces in the interior.


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The "Royal Palace," Theodore's residence in Corti
In wintry Corti, Theodore and his ministers were finally able to establish something resembling a royal government. The king had taken up residence in the commandant's house, the former residence of the Genoese administrator, where he lived with Count Sebastiano Costa, Grand Chancellor and Keeper of the Royal Seal, and the royal household: His private secretary Denis Richard; his personal valet Antonio Pino; his Elban chaplain Antonio Candeotto; his Moorish footmen Mahomet and Montecristo; his Provençal cook, Joseph Paris; his Dutch equerry Giraud Keverberg, the son of a dragoon captain; his aides-de-camp, Saviero Carlieri of Naples and Cristoforo Buongiorno of Livorno; and a handful of other servants. Although it must have gotten a bit crowded and certainly paled in comparison to the Governor's Palace at Bastia, the three-story commandant's house was sufficient for his needs and far better than squatting in convents as had been his practice for months.[1]

Just around the corner was the house of the Secretary of State, Count Gianpietro Gaffori.[A] Although the king's residence was always busy, it was Gaffori's house which was the real nerve center of the royalist government. Gaffori's family had long been among the most prominent families of Corti, and his father had been podesta of the city. A physician by trade, trained in the medical college at Genoa, Gaffori had been elected a representative of Corti to the national consulta in 1734. He was intelligent, bold, and multi-talented; Doctor Gaffori was seemingly just as comfortable balancing accounts, making a speech, and leading men in battle as he was with operating on a patient. Theodore had made him a secretary of state, and later he acquired the title of "President of the Currency" for managing Theodore's coin-minting project. Since the rebel armory had been moved to Corti's citadel, Gaffori had also become the de facto quartermaster-general of the kingdom, overseeing all deliveries of weapons, munitions, clothing, and money to the king's loyalists throughout the island. His position was one of tremendous power, and although the elderly Marquis Luigi Giafferi retained the title of Chief Minister, he was clearly eclipsed by Gaffori in terms of actual influence.[B]


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Gaffori's house, with a bronze statue of Gianpietro Gaffori in front

Almost every day, Gaffori put on his coat and hat and walked 150 feet from his front door to the king's residence, where he, Theodore, Costa, Giappiconi, and (frequently) Giafferi would discuss the day's business over a bottle of wine. (The king's tea and chocolate had long since run out.) Costa marveled at how untroubled the king seemed to be about the war. He took an interest in military affairs and questioned Gaffori and Giappiconi as to troops, maneuvers, and supplies, but was quite content to let them handle everyday affairs. Theodore expressed complete confidence in the outcome of the struggle, and insisted that the French could not go on much longer. Britain, he pointed out, had recently declared war upon Spain, and it was only a matter of time before the King of Spain would be joined by his fellow Bourbons in France. An Anglo-French war, he explained, would bring about the end of the French intervention; either the French would withdraw in order to deal with weightier matters, or the British would intervene in Corsica to prevent this key position in the Mediterranean from being used against them. All bowed to the king's superior knowledge of European high politics. Was he not a German prince, an English lord, a French peer, a Spanish grandee, etc., etc., who had been presented in half a dozen continental courts?

The king frequently wished to discuss other matters of state. He proposed censuses and surveys to properly quantify his kingdom and its productive capacities, inquired as to damage caused by the French and Genoese which would have to be repaired, requested reports on the Castagniccian refugees encamped in the interior and what was being done to keep them fed, and floated various ideas for the enforcement of justice and economic development. He lamented the dearth of writing material and discussed a plan with Costa to establish paper-making mills and steal the market from the Genoese, who were major producers of printing paper. His proposals were sometimes sensible, sometimes bizarre, and nearly always premature, given that much of the country and most of its population was not under his control. Some are inclined to see Theodore's preoccupation with such matters as evidence of a tenuous hold on reality, the musings of an absent-minded fellow who ruled as much in his imagination as in fact. One must not discount, however, that Theodore was also a skilled actor. The total confidence in victory which he displayed was undoubtedly for the benefit of others, and his numerous inquiries and schemes on matters of state and economics may have been an attempt to project authority and "normalcy" - war or no war, the reign of the king and the government of his ministers needed to be seen to continue unperturbed.

The king indulged in other diversions as well. He toured the citadel and the walls with Johann-Gottlieb Reusse, a Saxon engineering student whom Theodore had hired in Amsterdam as a captain of engineers, and discussed how the defenses might be improved in the event of a siege. He attended mass at the Church of the Annunciation, which was just opposite Gaffori's house, as it was important to at least make a show of traditional piety. On occasion he left the city, typically accompanied by a detail of his Leibgarde, a few of his household staff (usually Keverberg, Carlieri and/or Buongiorno, and one or both of his Moorish footmen) and whichever ministers or officers whose company he had requested. On a few occasions he went shooting, presumably for wild boar, but usually his rides were merely to see the sights. Despite living in the country for three years, the king was continually impressed by the natural beauty of "his" island, and his aides' concerns for his safety or his health could not keep him cooped up in Corti for long.

On three occasions the king made the journey to Ponte Leccia, eleven miles north of Corti, where Fabiani had established the winter quarters of the royal army. Conditions there were rather spartan. By all accounts the food was sufficient, if lean; the men ate chestnut bread, drank soup made from wild herbs, and foraged for taravellu (asphodel).[2] On good days, they roasted wild boar. The pay was meager, although probably better than many of the soldiers had earned as shepherds, field workers, and subsistence farmers. The greatest problem was the cold. The syndicate had sold the rebels a large amount of tent canvas, but canvas tents left something to be desired in terms of keeping the men warm in the highland winter. These were gradually supplemented by huts of flat stones and pinewood. There was certainly illness and desertion, but most of the army—estimated at around 1,200 to 1,500 strong, possibly as low as a thousand at its nadir—seems to have kept together.

Fabiani utilized Viscount Kilmallock as his chief instructor, for training was both badly needed and the only thing that could keep men occupied when they were not chopping wood or foraging for herbs and game. Barking at them in his English-accented Spanish which was only barely comprehensible by the rural Corsicans, Don Chimallu led the Corsicans in musket drills and formation marching. On the occasions of Theodore's visits, Fabiani held a military review for the king's satisfaction. A half-trained gaggle of Corsicans shuffling through the snow in their civilian clothes could not have been terribly impressive to Theodore, who had served in three different continental armies, but he made a good show of watching serenely from horseback. Costa, at least, believed the men enjoyed it, but Costa never marched a step in his life, and certainly did not sleep in a tent.


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The plateau of Coscione

While Fabiani's army shivered and drilled, royalist forces elsewhere continued to be active. In early December, Peretti and the Lusinchi brothers made an audacious crossing of the snow-covered and treeless alpine plateau of Coscione, and then descended into the Travo valley to surprise a 200-strong Genoese garrison at Ventiseri. The Genoese had completely written off the prospect of a rebel attack over the mountains in winter and were caught with their metaphorical trousers around their ankles. Fiumorbo was completely abandoned by the Genoese thereafter save for the coastal village of Solenzara, and other Genoese forces further south pulled back to warmer and more defensible positions. Further south, Drost and Durazzo met with initial success campaigning in the Taravo valley, but were defeated at Olmeto by a Genoese force. Unlike Grimaldi's filogenovesi militia of Ajaccio, the Genoese at Propriano had an entire regular battalion. Drost blamed the defeat on the failure of the local militia commander, Anton Galloni d'Istria, to support them, which different sources claim was either a case of treachery or miscommunication. In the north, Rauschenburg continued to be a thorn in the side of the French and Genoese, although no serious engagements were fought there. The French lost ground in the Castagniccia, as they did on most fronts, although this had more to do with the army's withdrawal into winter quarters than any rebel activity.


Footnotes

[1] The religious diversity of Corsica seems to have been fully contained in the royal household. Richard and Keverberg were certainly Protestants, and Mahomet and Montecristo were, as far as we know, practicing Muslims. That said, however, the religious affiliations of all the men in the Foreign Regiment are not known, and various "Turks" freed from Genoese galleys were occasionally found in Theodore's service either as soldiers or servants. Many, however, were smuggled out of Corsica with Theodore's support, as the king took an active interest in the emancipation and repatriation of slaves. Early on in Theodore's reign, two Jews also accompanied him as representatives of his Jewish backers in Tunis, but they seem to have left after Theodore's voyage to Amsterdam. So too, probably, did Salla, another Muslim who had arrived on the island with Theodore as a representative from Morocco and/or Tunis.
[2] Asphodel, specifically Asphodelus ramosus (or "branched asphodel"), known by many names on Corsica including taravellu and fiori di morti ("flower of the dead"), is a hardy perennial herb with white flowers which blooms in the winter in the Mediterranean. Although not economically exploited in modern times, its starchy bulb was part of Corsican cuisine until superseded by the potato. It was regarded as a famine food, particularly after the potato's introduction, and sometimes called the "bread of the poor." Asphodel continued to see use as a ritual and medicinal herb, however, and in fact contains colchicine, an effective medicine for gout which is still used today. In ancient Greek mythology, asphodel was associated with the afterlife; in The Odyssey, Homer writes that Achilles' ghost "marched away with long steps over the meadow of asphodel."

Timeline Notes

[A] The Genoese civic building which serves as Theodore's Corti HQ ITTL was Paoli's HQ IOTL, although it later became the short-lived university of the Corsican Republic. Today, it is known as the National Palace ("Palazzu Naziunale"), and is the administrative building for the University of Corsica Pasquale Paoli, a public university. Gaffori's house is, as IOTL, Gaffori's house. You may notice in the picture that it's riddled with bullet-holes, left over from a Genoese siege.
[B] Gaffori was an extremely capable leader of the rebellion who was a member of the ruling triumvirate starting in 1745. He became progressively more powerful until he was elected as sole general of the nation in 1753. Later that year, however, he was assassinated by a group of men thought to be in Genoese pay, including his own brother. Gaffori's death precipitated a crisis of leadership in the national movement; Clemente Paoli, a lieutenant of Gaffori's, attempted to position his own family as the new leaders of the rebellion and recalled his brother Pasquale from abroad. A civil war between the Paoli and Matra clans followed, which Paoli ultimately won, thus establishing the Corsican Republic. Gaffori was essentially the "Paoli before Paoli," but he was a very different sort of man: Gaffori, unlike Paoli, was no avatar of the Enlightenment who could make Rousseau swoon, but he was a significantly better commander than Pasquale Paoli ever was. One wonders how different the rebellion would have been if he had evaded assassination. ITTL, Gaffori is going to be a very important man; his considerable skills and important strategic position as the effective master of Corti make him indispensable to the regime. He did not, however, have a good relationship IOTL with d'Ornano, whose turn away from the rebel cause seems to coincide with the Gaffori-dominated triumvirate coming to power.
 
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All highly plausible.
Still, if 1740 doesn`t bring an external change or a massive stroke of luck, then the rebels are lost.
Luckily, there are enough hints that 1740 won`t see the same kind of surge of coherent professionals and the same kind of coordinated attack on the interior as 1739.
 
All highly plausible.
Still, if 1740 doesn`t bring an external change or a massive stroke of luck, then the rebels are lost.
Luckily, there are enough hints that 1740 won`t see the same kind of surge of coherent professionals and the same kind of coordinated attack on the interior as 1739.

Agree. I also think Boissieux's strategy is probably the best the French could have taken all told, but of course when it's a plan being waged with other people's money with what was supposed to have been a short intervention, he was probably inevitably going to burn through his capital pretty quickly. The Corsican cause may receive a boon, I think, from a more aggressive "decisive confrontation" type commander on the part of the French
 
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I know the thread is, rightfully, of the opinion that an Austrian intervention will do more harm than good to the genoan cause.

But it's going to be a huge morale blow to the corsicans. Theodore has been telling them that genoa isn't a threat, France will withdraw soon and a foreign backer is likely to intervene in their favour. And then hey ho, here comes the empire.
 
I know the thread is, rightfully, of the opinion that an Austrian intervention will do more harm than good to the genoan cause.

But it's going to be a huge morale blow to the corsicans. Theodore has been telling them that genoa isn't a threat, France will withdraw soon and a foreign backer is likely to intervene in their favour. And then hey ho, here comes the empire.
And the Austrians were the only ones who ever forced the Corsicans to the bargaining table.
 
Well would the... ambiguity... between the French and the Austrians get through to the Corsicans? Could Theodore shake his head at the audacity and cleverness of Vienna, and present the Austrians as maneuvering before official war is declared with France?
 
Let’s see if Killamock is as good as von Steuben.

I rather doubt it. Von Steuben was a trained general staff officer of the vaunted Prussian army and an aide-de-camp to Frederick the Great himself. He also did a lot more for the Continentals than just leading them through infantry drills - as inspector-general he organized their camp, reformed army administration, took charge of the army's supplies and inventory, and wrote them a manual on training and tactics which was used long after the war.

Kilmallock, in contrast, is just a Spanish colonel. He's got a lot of battle experience, and like any experienced field officer he has knowledge of drill, tactics, and regimental organization, but he has no academy or general staff training and is no logistician, administrator, or doctrinal expert. He's competent at what he does, but I wouldn't expect miracles.

And the Austrians were the only ones who ever forced the Corsicans to the bargaining table.

While true, this isn’t really because of any extraordinary competence the Austrians possessed. The Austrian force, at its height, was marginally larger than the French, peaking at about 11,000, but the Corsicans never actually fought them at that level - Ceccaldi’s victory over the Austrians at Calenzana was at a time when the imperial force was only around 4,000 men. As soon as the Austrians dumped another 7,000 men on the island, the Corsicans sued for peace.

The reason they did this was because they were still naive. At this point the rebellion had been going on for scarcely three years; it was not yet a nationalist revolt in any meaningful sense and nobody talked of independence. When the rebels received guarantees from the emperor’s representatives that they would be treated gently and some of their demands would be met, they considered this the best outcome they could get under the circumstances agreed to lay down their arms. Then, however, came the "Prisoners of Savona" affair, in which the Genoese treacherously tried to execute the Corsican leaders who had come to them in good faith as hostages, and as soon as the imperial troops departed the Genoese reneged on all their promises.

The Fontainebleau proposal was in some ways even more generous than what Vienna had offered, but this was 1738, after another five years of war and innumerable broken promises, and after the Corsicans had already gotten a taste of independence under Costa and Neuhoff. The lesson the rebels had learned from the imperial intervention was that no third-party brokered peace deal was worth the paper it was written on, no matter how credible the third party was, because the Genoese could not be trusted to keep it. They said as much to King Louis, in what is probably my favorite quote of the rebellion: “If your sovereign commands should oblige us to submit ourselves to Genoa, let us first drink the health of the Most Christian King, and then die.” They had nothing against France and even the most ardent "patriots" probably would have folded immediately to the French proposals if they had any faith whatsoever that the Genoese would respect them. By this time, however, they knew better.

Boissieux fundamentally misunderstood this, as he seemed to think that if he could just craft the right deal or exert the right military pressure, the rebels would see reason. He did not grasp that without trust, nothing he offered the rebels actually mattered. Maillebois’ approach was harsher, but more effective: he spurned negotiations and crushed the rebels with swift, overwhelming violence, and once they were utterly defeated he governed them mildly and justly, urging the Genoese to do the same once he was gone. They didn’t.
 
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