So they went North instead of West? Am I understanding that right?

Yes, although "northeast" would probably be more accurate than "north."

Here is a doodle (click for big):



Purple = Gallispan (united Franco-Spanish) advance
Blue = French advance
Red = Spanish (or Spanish-Genoese) advance
Orange = Austrian advance

As you can see, the French didn't actually cover much ground; all the places mentioned in Lautrec's campaign (Ceva, Mondovi, Lezegno, Bene) are all in a relatively small area of southern Piedmont. This was a heavily fortified region, however, and Lautrec alone didn't have the forces to both cover fortresses and advance against the Piedmontese army, so it was necessary to grind them down one siege at a time. Had Bene (the northmost point of the French advance) fallen or Carlo Emanuele been beaten more decisively, the plan was to go west and cut off Cuneo ("Coni" on that map), isolating that fortress and the Col di Tenda (a crucial mountain pass back towards Nice), which would give Lautrec a line back to France without British naval interference. With this line of communication and enough of southern Piedmont in French hands to supply the troops over winter, the French would be in a good position to make a spring offensive through Piedmont towards Turin.

The Spanish decision to break off east was ill-considered, but not totally without merit; had la Mina's force been stronger, he might have been able to hold his position and effectively divide the Austrians from the Sardinians, which is exactly what the Spanish managed to do in 1745 IOTL. Here, however, the Spanish simply didn't have the men or the time required, and were forced to retreat lest they be caught between Cinzano and Schulenburg.
 
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the Pragmatic Allies cannot afford to let those frog-eating bastards trump them in important diplomatic fields like self-destructive feuding! They must unleash... the Fritz
 
Would it be possible to attach these kinds of maps in future updates? It’s kind of difficult to make sense and keep track of the movements without a map (doesn’t even have to be very detailed).
 
Would it be possible to attach these kinds of maps in future updates? It’s kind of difficult to make sense and keep track of the movements without a map (doesn’t even have to be very detailed).

Yes, although I expect this update will be an uncommon exception to the general rule, which is that I prefer to avoid detailed campaign narratives (that don't take place on Corsica).

Here's a more detailed diagram of the "Piedmontese Front" on a 1749 map (click to expand). The general site of the Battle of Lezegno is indicated by a purple X. Several different Gallispan routes of advance towards Ceva are shown. This is also a rather helpful map as it shows the boundaries of the March of Finale (in red), the territory which was at issue between Genoa and Sardinia.

 
Browne does seem like a visionary general, but the fact that he is ranked below the best generals of the Bourbon-Hohenzollern side makes me think that if he is rewarded with independent command for this awesome victory, he will end up making one risky play more than he should and end up not much better than he did OTL.

Those are wonderful period maps, much better than typing names into google maps to get the general idea of location.

From Google, Monterosi occurred just 40km north of Rome. That it took the Austrians a month to march from there to Liguria makes sense to me.
 
Great update, as always. I was wondering, though, whaat happened to Marquis Carrillo de Albornoz? I know he is most definitely not a relevant part of the story, but I am interested because he just happens to be my ancestor.
 
Browne does seem like a visionary general, but the fact that he is ranked below the best generals of the Bourbon-Hohenzollern side makes me think that if he is rewarded with independent command for this awesome victory, he will end up making one risky play more than he should and end up not much better than he did OTL.

As a subordinate officer, Browne was remarkable for his energy. He moved armies with stunning speed on several occasions, including a striking march over the snow-covered Alps in early 1746. Although he wasn’t always aggressive, he frequently urged his superiors to attack, whether it was Lobkowitz in Italy or Prince Karl in Bohemia more than a decade later. Because many of his superiors were timid or cautious in an officer corps which was not exactly known for its dash and energy, Browne tends to look good as a result, one of a small group of men who demanded action amidst a gaggle of indecisive, doddering Austrian geriatrics (to use an unfair stereotype). But since his advice was frequently ignored, it’s not easy to say whether that advice was actually good. Monterosi could have ended up the way I described it ITTL, or it could have gone pear-shaped, with everyone wondering after the fact how Browne could have been dumb enough to think attacking an army 50% larger than his own was a good idea.

There’s no question in my mind that Browne was a good general. A bad general doesn’t go toe-to-toe with Frederick the Great and stop his advance dead in its tracks (screw you Wikipedia, Lobositz was an Austrian victory), and no less a figure than Marshal Traun considered his conduct of the Provence campaign in 1747 to be exemplary despite its overall failure. As a divisional/brigade commander Browne was consistently above-average. But because his actual periods of supreme command were quite brief and ultimately condemned to failure for reasons beyond his control, it’s hard to get a full picture of his powers as a commanding general. Not every good divisional commander makes a good generalissimo, and sometimes caution is the wisest policy in war.

Regardless of the importance of Monterosi, Vienna won’t give him independent command immediately. He’s still a mere FML (Lieutenant-General equivalent), and the Austrians cared very much about things like rank, seniority, court favor, and so on. Yet although Browne is back to being a subordinate, that may change sooner than OTL. Apparently Browne was promoted to FZM in 1745 less than two weeks after Botta Adorno, who was his superior after Lichtenstein (who had replaced Schulenburg) relinquished command in late 1746. A slightly faster promotion and increased favor in Vienna could easily make him Lichtenstein’s successor (or Schulenburg’s, if for some reason Lichtenstein doesn’t end up in Italy).

From Google, Monterosi occurred just 40km north of Rome. That it took the Austrians a month to march from there to Liguria makes sense to me.

Monterosi to Milan, by the route Browne took, is about 375 miles (~600 km). Even at “Browne speed” that’s a long-ass march. Fortunately for the Austrians, communication isn’t fast in the 18th century; it reportedly took three weeks for letters from Gages to reach his superiors in Madrid. Accordingly, by the time Don Felipe and the Marques de la Mina figured out what had really gone down at Monterosi and that the Austrians were coming for them, Browne was already well on his way to the Milanese.

I really do like the pic of the Spanish Dragoon.

A picture by Jose Ferre Clauzel, a painter who apparently does military art. I just happened to come across it in a search. The Lusitania Dragoons were known as the "Regiment of Death" because they were almost totally wiped out in the Battle of Madonna dell'Olmo in 1744. Until 1760, they apparently wore skull-and-crossbones emblems on their cuffs in recognition of this "achievement."

Great update, as always. I was wondering, though, whaat happened to Marquis Carrillo de Albornoz? I know he is most definitely not a relevant part of the story, but I am interested because he just happens to be my ancestor.

Interesting! Unfortunately, Montemar's role in the story thus far is no different than his role IOTL - he got sacked and replaced with Gages in 1742 because he was too cautious for Madrid's tastes. He sensibly withdrew from the Austro-Sardinians because he was outnumbered, but to Madrid such retreating without even offering a battle looked like cowardice. What the Queen wanted were commanders like la Mina and Gages who would go and attack as they were told regardless of whether it made military sense or not, and Montemar was too sensible to do that. His dismissal is just another example of how Spain's war effort was hobbled by the monarchy's (and more specifically the Queen's) micromanagement of military affairs.

ITTL, Gages is very likely to suffer the fate of Montemar after his humiliation at Monterosi, and I haven't figured out who will replace him. It probably won't be Montemar, however. When Don Felipe suffered setbacks in Savoy, the Queen acidly referred to him (her own son!) as "the second edition of Montemar." I can't see her allowing him to regain his command.
 
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The Spanish really are impatient, at the most at fault here. Squash all opposition before running off for individual objectives. Hell, if they defeated Sardinia and Austria soundly they could have demanded the Italian lands they wanted in the peace treaty. Instead the Queen's son will get nothing, just as they deserve really.

There's this alleged quote by Otto von Bismarck which perfectly describes the Spanish situation.

'I am firmly convinced that Spain is the strongest country of the world. Century after century trying to destroy herself but still no success.'
 
Friends of Corsica
Friends of Corsica

Take care how you call them rebels, for that name is proper only for our enemies.

- Horace Walpole to Ambassador Horace Mann

On December 7th, delegates of the Worms allies met once more in Turin to discuss the strategic situation. The Sardinians were once more represented by King Carlo Emanuele and his chief minister Carlo Vincenzo, Marchese d’Ormea. Austria’s man was their overall commander in Italy FZM Ludwig Ferdinand, Graf von Schulenburg-Oeynhausen,[1] who had already been Vienna’s military ambassador to Turin before being appointed as Lobkowitz’s replacement. Finally, Britain was represented by their resident minister Arthur Villettes, Genoa’s belligerence making the personal presence of Vice Admiral William Rowley impossible even if he had been free to attend.

The past year had been a sobering reminder of Bourbon strength and the limitations of the Worms allies. Austria’s diversion to Naples had (as the Sardinians had warned) been a serious mistake which had almost doomed the Italian war; only the dogged Sardinian defense of Piedmont and the audacious victory of Maximilian Ulysses, Graf von Browne at Monterosi had averted disaster, along with a generous helping of enemy disunion and incompetence. But the danger was not yet over, for French manpower was by no means exhausted and enemy forces still held Savoy, Nice, and the fortress of Cuneo, which were all useful points from which to launch a new invasion of PIedmont. Preoccupied with their own war against France, Prussia, and Bavaria in the German theater, Austria could not offer much in the way of reinforcements for the Italian theater.

Although their forces were limited, a policy of active defense seemed wisest. The discussion of the representatives at Turin focused primarily on Genoa. Liguria left much to be desired as a thoroughfare, but Genoa’s adherence to the Bourbon alliance and the supplies, artillery, and men it had provided to their cause had made the 1744 campaign possible. Neutralizing the Republic seemed not only necessary but even plausible, as the timorous Senate had already reached out to Vienna to try and sound out the prospect of favorable terms if the Bourbons should be driven from Italy entirely. Aside from its own meager army, only 7,000 embattled Spanish troops defended the Republic, and their commander General Jaime de Guzmán-Dávalos, Marqués de la Mina was already making noise about withdrawing them to the French position at Nice notwithstanding Spain’s pledge in the Treaty of Aranjuez to defend Genoese territory. The Genoese were not eager to betray the Bourbon alliance they had only recently joined, especially since Madrid was currently bankrolling a good part of their military budget, but if Bourbon arms were to fail utterly the Republic’s leaders hoped that Austria could be induced to shield them from Sardinian rapacity. This was an utterly vain and fatuous hope. In fact Queen Maria Theresa, whose protection and forbearance the Genoese were counting on, was positively livid at the faithlessness and treachery of the republic which had twice received her father’s assistance with their Corsican troubles and had repaid him by siding with those who sought to shatter his house.

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Maria Theresa, Queen of Hungary, Croatia, and Bohemia, Archduchess of Austria, c. 1743

Although the allies agreed generally on their goal, their proposed means were not fully in concert. Rowley had proposed an attack on Spezia in eastern Liguria, but his reasoning was chiefly naval as Spezia would make a good port, and this suggestion was opposed by both his allies and his own captains who believed an assault on that heavily-defended position was impractical. The Sardinians preferred an attack on Ceva and western Liguria, where the French army would have to march to re-enter Italy. With luck they might push all the way to the sea, which would effectively cut off Genoa (and la Mina’s army, if they still lingered in Genoa) from her allies, reestablish direct contact between Sardinia and the British fleet, and also place coveted Finale in Sardinian hands. This accomplished many Sardinian objectives simultaneously, but did entail some risk as it would put this Piedmontese salient between the French to the west and the Spanish and Genoese to the east. Schulenburg, speaking for Austria, advocated instead a direct attack on Genoa proper, which would knock the Republic out of the war in one fell swoop. For Vienna this would also have the desirable effect of keeping Sardinia committed to the war, for Maria Theresa privately doubted whether the Sardinians, once they had Finale in hand, would exhibit much energy in the allies’ mutual cause other than to shield their own territories. Her preference was for Sardinia to be awarded her prizes at the end of the war as rewards for loyalty rather than given them prematurely while the contest was not yet decided.

Regardless, there was no doubt that Genoa was the common enemy of the Pragmatic Allies, an understanding which had direct consequences for the fate of Corsica. The great argument against aiding the Corsicans, that it would induce Genoa to belligerence, was now moot. Moreover, the landing of a battalion of French soldiers (actually only 300 men) at Calvi in late November suggested to some that the Bourbons were actively trying to take control of the island for their own purposes. Actually, although Paris declared it was fulfilling its treaty obligations, the French had no intention of launching a military campaign on Corsica. They were more interested in preventing Calvi from falling into the hands of the British-backed rebels and being used by the British navy (and its associated privateers) against them, and the fall of Bastia suggested that this might well transpire without foreign assistance.

It was agreed at Turin that while the conquest of Corsica from Genoese and Bourbon control was not a high priority of the allies, it was nonetheless desirable, and that appropriate measures should be taken to effect it. Since no allied troops could be spared to intervene there, any progress would necessarily be made by proxy, and the only proxy worth considering was the “faction” of the Baron von Neuhoff. He was unquestionably the most powerful leader on Corsica, he was already on the Sardinian payroll, he was indebted to British aid, and he had the right enemies (having fought the Genoese and the French for years). Villettes suggested that the Sardinians continue to fund Theodore (who had recently asked Turin for yet more money) so as to raise Corsicans for the continental war while also supporting the native insurgency. Carlo Emanuele agreed.

The conference did not, however, made any determinations as to the final status of Corsica. The allies did not necessarily share a vision for the island’s future. The Sardinians and Austrians (in the form of a lingering interest by Grand Duke Franz Stefan) held private hopes that the war would ultimately deliver Corsica to them, notwithstanding the claims of the Baron von Neuhoff, while the British favored a resolution that would leave at least one choice naval base in their hands, a result which was not necessarily compatible with Sardinian or Austrian sovereignty. Nor were the allies necessarily committed to the island’s emancipation from Genoa, for they were fully prepared to sacrifice Corsica as a bargaining chip if something of greater value could be obtained. The resulting agreement was thus purposefully vague so as to avoid any rivalry or commit the allies to a course they might later have reason to recant. The representatives agreed broadly that Corsica should not be subjected to “annexation,” by which they meant a forcible takeover, but that the allies should act to “help [Corsica] regain her freedom so as to obtain for the allied powers the use of her ports.”

This was echoed by a public statement from Turin, promulgated by Carlo Emanuele but notionally in the name of the whole alliance, in which the king proclaimed himself for the “liberty” of the Corsicans and promised “aid and succor” for their struggle against the Genoese Republic. Aware that he was likely to be accused of supporting an insurgency, Carlo Emanuele argued that he was innocent of “the odious offense of exciting subjects to rebel against their lawful sovereign” because the Corsicans were already in revolt. Although the word “independence” was never used, Carlo Emanuele proclaimed his desire to see the islanders enjoy both “tranquility” and “full freedom,” further claiming that he was motivated solely for the good of the Corsican people and had no desire to seize the island for his own. Such a proclamation did not seriously discomfit the Genoese; it was practically expected of their enemy Carlo Emanuele, who as they well knew was already directly bankrolling the rebels. More alarming was when it was followed less than a month later by a similar declaration from the Queen of Hungary, who offered the Corsicans neither treasure nor military support but was perfectly willing to terrorize the Genoese.

Britain made no formal statement, allowing Turin to speak for them on the matter, but their government too was growing more congenial to the Corsican cause. In November of 1744, minister John Carteret was forced out of office, a casualty of both Prussia’s sudden and unexpected reentry into the war against Austria and Carteret’s own inability to manage the House of Commons. Carteret had been a supporter of Theodore and his fall was initially lamented by the king, but it soon became clear that the succeeding ministry would be no less favorable. It was to be led by the Pelham brothers: Prime Minister Henry Pelham, Chancellor of the Exchequer (and technically already Prime Minister since 1743), and his brother Thomas Pelham-Holles, Duke of Newcastle, Secretary of State for the Southern Department since 1724. Not only was Newcastle supportive of Corsican intervention, but he was also the man who gave Rowley his orders.

The naval situation was in the meantime developing in Britain’s favor. At the end of September, Rowley had received word from Gibraltar that an Anglo-Dutch fleet under Sir John Balchen had met the long-delayed victualling fleet at the mouth of the Tagus, driven away the blockading French squadron, escorted the victuallers to Gibraltar, and was now blockading the French detachment at Cadiz. This was doubly useful to Rowley; with the victuallers advanced to Gibraltar he could fetch them himself without exiting the Mediterranean, and with the French fleet trapped at Cadiz he needed only escort the English merchant ships as far as the Strait without worrying greatly about their interception. Rowley would have to wait some time for suitable wind, but he intended to make the journey to the Rock with a large force of ships of the line, leaving only a small squadron under Commodore Robert Long to cover Liguria.

Unfortunately, Balchen’s stay at Cadiz would not last long enough for Rowley to accomplish this task. Although the British component of his fleet was prepared for an extended blockade, the Dutch ships had not brought sufficient provisions to do so. Allegedly this had been done purposefully so as to prevent the Dutch navy from being deployed too far from the Channel. As Balchen’s British ships alone were not sufficient to maintain the blockade, Balchen was forced to withdraw from Cadiz shortly after his arrival. While the victuallers had already been escorted to the Rock, the freedom of the French cruising squadron at Cadiz meant that Rowley would have to sail at least as far as Cape St. Vincent to take the English merchants then at Port Mahon past the Bourbon gauntlet and into the open sea. As this enterprise seemed best done sooner rather than later to prevent any junction of the French and Spanish fleets in the area, Rowley ordered for all possible sail to be gathered at once for this task. Long was left with only four ships of the line, which included the Dragon and the Newcastle under Captain Charles Watson, then at Bastia. The Newcastle was recalled to Vado Bay shortly after its participation in the Sack of Bastia on the 1st of October. Long, at least, was able to procure supplies for his diminished squadron, in large part thanks to beef and mutton procured in Corsican ports.

After taking his fleet through the Strait with nearly 40 merchant vessels in tow, Rowley finally had a stroke of luck off Cape Spartel. On the 21st of October Rowley and his 26 warships abruptly ran into a force of six French ships cruising the Strait. He immediately pursued, forcing the French to try and regain Cadiz. They were able to do this, but barely, and not without the loss of the 50-gun Tigre which lost a spar in the pursuit and was overhauled and captured by Captain Thomas Cooper of the Stirling Castle. With the remainder of the French force shut up in Cadiz, Rowley was able to complete his escort of the merchant fleet and return to Gibraltar, from where he could escort the victuallers to Port Mahon. Once there, he took the opportunity to refit and clean his ships, sending out a few small cruising parties after specific targets. Undoubtedly his badly fouled fleet needed the respite, but he was later criticized for leaving Long’s squadron too weak to meaningfully interfere with the French evacuation to Nice or to maintain a tight blockade of Genoa. In early December Long was sent another ship of the line and two frigates, but he was still very thinly stretched.

The British fleet disposition would not change until February, when Rowley received new orders from Newcastle, directing him to split his forces between the Riviera and Cartagena.

Newcastle to Rowley said:
...that you proceed with the greatest part of your squadron off Carthagena, leaving a sufficient strength under the command of Commodore Osborn, or such other officer as you may think proper, to perform all services on the coast of Italy that may be necessary for the security and defence of the states of the King of Sardinia, the Queen of Hungary and the Great Duke of Tuscany; and you will make the proper disposition of the ships so to be left for obstructing the passage and motions of the French and Spaniards as far as may be practicable, and for preventing the landing of any fresh troops from Spain into Italy; and, insofar as it does not prevent the execution of these former tasks, you will render such assistance to the Malcontents of Corsica as may be useful for the conveyance of the auxiliaries of the King of Sardinia and the capture of the town of Calvi for the use of the fleet; for which purpose a few ships of the line with the smaller ships of your squadron may be sufficient.

It appeared to be the crowning success of Theodore’s diplomacy - after nearly nine years of war and intrigue, the British government was explicitly directing its fleet to intervene on behalf of the Corsicans. Yet while it was good news for Theodore, it is difficult to argue with Rowley’s own conclusion, which was that the “Corsican distraction” was a strategic blunder. As useful as Calvi might be to the British fleet, its value was not so great that it merited pulling ships away from vital duties elsewhere. Not that Rowley was immune to strategic blunders - his lust to capture a Spanish treasure fleet said to be returning from the West Indies would, later in 1745, cause him to make some very questionable fleet dispositions indeed. Yet even if he was chiefly motivated by avarice as some have alleged (for the prize money in such a capture would be worth a fortune), it was generally admitted by thinkers of the time that Spain’s treasure fleets were of strategic significance, while the progress of the Corsican rebellion could not possibly influence the course of the greater war.

As winter approached, the Corsican nationals made deliberate but inexorable progress up the eastern coast of Capo Corso spearheaded by several regular companies. This project was aided considerably by the rebels’ possession of the port of Bastia, where provisions, ammunition, and materiel could be loaded onto small craft and landed further up the coast to resupply the soldiers and furnish them with artillery to batter defensive towers. In the first days of November the nationals captured Sisco after placing a cannon near the town and bombarding the Torre di Balba. Towards the end of the month, the nationals attacked the village of Luri and dispersed the loyalist militia there. The forces of Natale Giustiniani, the Lieutenant of Rogliano, were never particularly numerous, and the fall of Bastia had cut his men off from any hope of supply or reinforcement. They were running short on ammunition, Giustiniani had no money to pay his troops, and the local filogenovesi - upon whom the defense of the pieve of Luri depended - feared retribution from the nationals if they persisted in their resistance. Horace Mann, the British resident in Florence, had called the Corsicans an “unruly race of brutes” after receiving news of Bastia’s sack, but a reputation for brutishness did occasionally have its utility. Winter forced a pause in this operation, but few doubted that Giustiniani’s days at Rogliano were numbered.

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Tower of Balba, Sisco
While this campaign proceeded apace, Theodore faced a difficult conundrum. While he was grateful for the international support which had been so long in coming, Theodore was well aware that Carlo Emanuele was not funding him out of the goodness of his heart. His representatives continued to press Theodore, through his emissary in Turin Domenico Carlo Rivarola, to deliver the troops he had promised. Theodore was pleased with the progress of his campaign on Corsica and had no desire to weaken his forces, but he could not flatly refused since these forces were unsustainable without Turin paying the bills. Theodore asked for more money to raise an additional battalion so he would have enough to both fight the common Genoese enemy and supply men to the Piedmontese, and succeeded in getting another 5,000 sequins for his efforts. D’Ormea made it very clear, however, that further disbursements - including the payments which constituted Theodore’s own “salary” - would be dependent on results.

To find more willing volunteers, Theodore turned his eyes abroad. In a declaration penned at Bastia, Theodore called upon all Corsicans in foreign military service to return home for the purpose of “uniting and reassembling all such as are dispersed and living exiled from their country.” Only those serving the armies of the Pragmatic Allies were excepted, while Corsicans in other states were given varying grace periods based on their proximity and the esteem in which Theodore held their governments. Corsicans in Venetian service were commanded to return within three months; those in Papal service, only one; and those in Genoese service, who had been by now given multiple ultimatums, were warned to defect immediately lest they be branded as traitors.

This demand lacked any kind of teeth and is best understood as aspirational, or an expression of Theodore’s presumption to be not merely king of Corsica, but of the Corsicans. The Corsican units in Genoese service did not record any more desertions than normal in the months following the “Bastia Declaration,” and there were no significant defections from the Corsican regiments of the Papal and French armies. Only in Naples and Venice did Theodore’s solicitation meet with some success. The Neapolitan regiment of Corsicans, which had only been recently founded, was permeated by naziunali; the regiment had previously been led by Marquis Luigi Giafferi, that living avatar of the Revolution who had since resigned his commission and returned home. Many followed in his footsteps, and despite their alignment with the Bourbon cause the Neapolitan government does not appear to have done much to stop them.[2] The 20 year old Pasquale Paoli, the younger brother of Captain Clemente Paoli of Rostino, was just one such “exile” who intended to return, but when Theodore was informed that the young lieutenant had been recently accepted into the newly-created Royal Academy of Artillery he urged Clemente to convince his brother to stay and continue his instruction. The king needed trained artillerymen in the future more than he needed another young lieutenant in the present.

The situation in Venice was more complex. The Republic’s Corsican regiments - comprising just over a thousand of their 20,000 man army - were not newly-formed bands of exiles, but prestigious units handed down within Corsican military families for generations. There had already been some defections amongst the officers, mostly those who had a history with Count Marcantonio Giappiconi, but the regiments were not on the verge of dissolving entirely like the Corsicans of Naples. To accomplish his aims here Theodore leaned on his old acquaintance Neil Browne, Britain’s consul in Venice, who in the past had sheltered Theodore and forwarded his secret correspondence. With the tacit approval of his government, Browne acted as a facilitator of desertion, circulating Theodore’s declaration and granting diplomatic protection to Corsican soldiers who wished to return home. The Venetians were not pleased, but had little recourse against the British.

From his headquarters at Vescovato,[3] the king discussed matters with his secretaries and commanders. Once Rogliano was taken, which seemed to be a foregone conclusion, only Bonifacio, Calvi, and Algajola would remain in enemy hands. Bonifacio posed too many difficulties and was of little use to the rebels; it could safely be ignored. The real prize was Calvi, but its citadel was the strongest on the island and lacked the deficiencies which had allowed the nationals to take Bastia even with their ill-trained artillerymen. Calvi would require a true siege and was probably impregnable without serious British naval support. That left only Algajola, whose conquest was quite plausible but would probably not require the full participation of Theodore’s army, particularly if Marquis Simone Fabiani could provide sufficient Balagnese militia to support the operation.

Informed by these realities, Theodore’s obligations to Turin finally coalesced into a concrete timetable. Theodore promised to furnish one battalion to Turin around the end of February, when winter gales began to abate. When Rogliano and Algajola were in the hands of the nationals, he would dispatch a second battalion. Ultimately Theodore hoped to raise four battalions in total - around 2,400 men on paper - of which half would serve on Corsica and the other half with the Piedmontese and Austrians. It remained to be seen, however, whether the Corsicans themselves would cooperate. Many recruits had joined to fight the Genoese and win their independence and were not necessarily interested in being thrown in the path of the Gallispan juggernaut for the sake of Maria Theresa’s patrimony.


The Situation on Corsica in February 1745

Footnotes
[1] Feldzeugmeister (abbrev. FZM, literally “field ordnance master”) was an Austrian rank above Feldmarshall-Lieutenant (FML) but below a full Feldmarshall (FM). Depending on the circumstances, a FZM might command a wing or line as a subordinate officer to a FM, or might have his own independent command. In the German theater, Austria’s grand armies were led by FMs (most notably Traun and Prince Karl) with FZMs commanding smaller corps, but because of the relatively lesser importance and smaller troop numbers of the Italian theater the commander-in-chief in Italy was a “mere” FZM.
[2] The status of Naples was somewhat nuanced, being neither neutral nor fully belligerent. When Lobkowitz had marched south to conquer the kingdom, Don Carlos had very sensibly repudiated his forced neutrality and marshalled his army to fight alongside the Spanish. Once the Austrians retreated, however, the Neapolitan army stood down save for 6,000 soldiers which Don Carlos agreed to loan to his father, the King of Spain. They were for all intents and purposes mercenaries in Spanish pay. Naples supplied the Spanish army with provisions and allowed its ports and ships to be used for logistical support, but aside from supplying Gages with the aforementioned “mercenaries” the Neapolitan army made no offensive moves in Italy during the war.
[3] Theodore had stayed briefly in Bastia after the city’s capture, but had no intention of making it his provisional capital. The city was considered too hostile and it was too far away from the interior. Vescovato, located near the eastern coast near the mouth of the Golo, was a far better location from which to govern.
 
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corsican artillerymen are always interesting fellows.

I was thinking the same thing...

Don Carlos founded the Academy of Artillery in 1745, an early predecessor of today's Nunziatella military academy, and IOTL Paoli studied there until 1749. As far as I know Paoli was never a "practicing" artillerist, and as it turned out he was not a very good general either. He did, however, take mathematics and physics classes there, and while at Naples did copious reading on economics, political philosophy, and so on.

Our Paoli is not the same as OTL's Paoli - while in many ways the trajectory of his life has been similar, including his exile in Naples, the early death of his father undoubtedly will have an impact on his life ITTL. The Corsican regiment in Neapolitan service may not be around much longer, and at that point Paoli's schooling may be cut short as well. Intellectually, however, I think he's likely to be a similar sort of person, as his years in Naples were the formative period of his young adult life and he's been exposed to many of the same educators, thinkers, and so on.
 
I was thinking the same thing...

Don Carlos founded the Academy of Artillery in 1745, an early predecessor of today's Nunziatella military academy, and IOTL Paoli studied there until 1749. As far as I know Paoli was never a "practicing" artillerist, and as it turned out he was not a very good general either. He did, however, take mathematics and physics classes there, and while at Naples did copious reading on economics, political philosophy, and so on.

Our Paoli is not the same as OTL's Paoli - while in many ways the trajectory of his life has been similar, including his exile in Naples, the early death of his father undoubtedly will have an impact on his life ITTL. The Corsican regiment in Neapolitan service may not be around much longer, and at that point Paoli's schooling may be cut short as well. Intellectually, however, I think he's likely to be a similar sort of person, as his years in Naples were the formative period of his young adult life and he's been exposed to many of the same educators, thinkers, and so on.
man, i should aspire to being 30% as careful with sources and details in my college studies as you are when writing this TL, my gpa would thank me a lot.
 
With little advantages other than a position from which a ship can easily sail both north to Genoa and to Italy proper and the settlement sacked, I do not see Bastia remaining one of Corsica's largest towns as it did OTL. San Fiorenzo and Calvi seem about as well-placed in terms of being able to travel to Genoa and better-placed if one intends to travel to any ports the Savoyads might get out of the peace treaty. Porto Vecchio meanwhile is a better port if one wants contact with most places south of the Rubicon. This would also allow the Corsicans of the Dila to retain dignity by having them control the main port for travel eastwards.
 
With little advantages other than a position from which a ship can easily sail both north to Genoa and to Italy proper and the settlement sacked, I do not see Bastia remaining one of Corsica's largest towns as it did OTL. San Fiorenzo and Calvi seem about as well-placed in terms of being able to travel to Genoa and better-placed if one intends to travel to any ports the Savoyads might get out of the peace treaty. Porto Vecchio meanwhile is a better port if one wants contact with most places south of the Rubicon. This would also allow the Corsicans of the Dila to retain dignity by having them control the main port for travel eastwards.

I doubt that Porto Vecchio will be a major settlement in the 18th century, let alone the capital. The only thing it has going for it is Corsica's best natural harbor. Everything else damns it. Malaria is so bad that the town isn't even permanently inhabited; it turns into a ghost town every summer as the few hundred residents flee up to the mountains. The town's hinterland, while cultivated today, was largely an unpopulated desert in the 18th century. It's also extremely remote from every other part of Corsica, as to get anywhere of importance you either have to march right over the mountain ranges of the Dila (which at this time have no roads) or go up the eastern coast, a long and malaria-blighted route. IOTL, the town only really became well-established with the draining of marshes in the 19th century, and boomed after the introduction of DDT in WW2. Earlier marsh-clearing is possible ITTL but I rather doubt it's going to happen in Theodore's lifetime.

I tend to agree that Bastia's star is going to fade ITTL, at least initially. Its poor position, bad harbor, largely hostile population, and historic association with Genoa all make it undesirable as a Theodoran capital, and the only reason the city was the largest in Corsica was because it was the capital and had the attendant demands for goods and services. Without these demands, the city doesn't have a lot going for it economically; at best it's an entrepot for a portion of northeastern Corsica. It's likely to decline, although the fact that it's pretty much the only real port town on the entire eastern coast means that it will have at least some utility as a transportation hub for those traveling between Corsica and Pisa, Livorno, Piombino, Civitavecchia, and so on.

San Fiorenzo and Calvi both have their issues. San Fiorenzo is a small village with serious malaria problems. There's no infrastructure there, and although it "commands" the Nebbio, it's very isolated from every other part of Corsica except Capo Corso. While the Gulf of San Fiorenzo is a much better natural harbor than anything Bastia has, the ironbound coast of Capo Corso makes it a little tricky to get out of when the wind isn't favorable (and it often isn't). Calvi is a larger town, but it's also quite isolated - it's not actually in the Balagna, just near it, and between it and the Balagna is - you guessed it - a marshy coastline plagued by malaria. Getting from Calvi to the interior, or anywhere else that's not the Balagna, is difficult. Calvi's bay is nice, and the citadel is the best on the island, but it's very unfavorable territory for the nationals. It's an extremely Genoese town whose loyalty to the Republic was so strong that the city bore the motto of "Calvi Semper Fidelis" (to Genoa, that is).

I've actually been giving a lot of thought to Ajaccio as a prospective capital. The bay is good (if not quite as good as Porto Vecchio), the hinterland is prosperous (if not quite as prosperous as the Balagna), and malaria is only a marginal problem. The city has some defensive weaknesses - it's no Calvi - but it's also much better off than Bastia. Ajaccio is already one of the largest settlements in Corsica, and it seems to have been the most "Corsican" of the Genoese citadel-towns, with a large Corsican suburb and a substantial "native" elite (like the Buonapartes) who, while not exactly in the vanguard of the Revolution, thought of themselves more as "Ajaccians" than Genoese and will likely come around to native rule. Ajaccio also has pretty good access to the interior - you have to climb over the island's mountain spine, but the Pass of Vizzavona between Ajaccio and Corti is one of the best passes over the Corsican mountains (and, IOTL, the site of the main road and rail route between the Dila and the Diqua). True, Ajaccio faces the wrong way for communication with Italy, but it's reasonably good for communication with France, and ideal if one is looking towards Gibraltar where Theodore's Dutch and British friends will be sailing from. And while Ajaccio is in the Dila, the less populous and economically important half of the country, it could as you say serve to pacify the magnates of the Dila (like d'Ornano) who don't want to feel like they're being ruled by the northerners.
 
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- When writing about Porto Vecchio as the best port in Corsica, you are forgetting Bonifacio, which, while quite bad for trade (it is even more isolated from the remainder of Corsica than Porto Vecchio), is simply one of the best military ports in the Mediterranean - completely sheltered from all winds and with an impressive (and impregnable) citadel, and controlling a strategic strait on top of that. (I remember than IOTL the French bought Corsica simply to prevent the English from acquiring Bonifacio — a bit like the US bought all of Louisiana while being interested only in New Orleans). This port is almost as important as Gibraltar.

- As for the capital of Corsica, the reasons that made Paoli choose Corti IOTL should still apply to Théodore: malaria-free, protected from enemy fleets (this becomes important once the war ends and the Royal Navy stops babysitting Théodore, and moreover knowing what we know about him he will want to be free from any influence, including British), and, as you just wrote, situated on the main roads giving access to all parts of Corsica (Balagna/Nebbio, Ajaccio/Sartena, and eastern coast).
 
- When writing about Porto Vecchio as the best port in Corsica, you are forgetting Bonifacio, which, while quite bad for trade (it is even more isolated from the remainder of Corsica than Porto Vecchio), is simply one of the best military ports in the Mediterranean - completely sheltered from all winds and with an impressive (and impregnable) citadel, and controlling a strategic strait on top of that. (I remember than IOTL the French bought Corsica simply to prevent the English from acquiring Bonifacio — a bit like the US bought all of Louisiana while being interested only in New Orleans). This port is almost as important as Gibraltar.

I agree as far as its military importance, but "best natural harbor in Corsica" is not my own original judgement; it's a remark repeated by a number of 19th/20th century writers about Porto Vecchio. I suspect that this is an argument made on purely geographical grounds - while Bonifacio is more secure, Bonifacio's harbor is also a very small harbor, a finger of water that is no longer than 100 yards across at its narrowest. Porto Vecchio's harbor is nearly as sheltered, but larger by orders of magnitude and more suitable for a port city in all ways save strictly military considerations.

But yes, as a strategic point it's marvelous. One wonders, however, whether it will actually be an asset for the Corsicans, given the desire of certain great powers to control it.

As for the capital of Corsica, the reasons that made Paoli choose Corti IOTL should still apply to Théodore: malaria-free, protected from enemy fleets (this becomes important once the war ends and the Royal Navy stops babysitting Théodore, and moreover knowing what we know about him he will want to be free from any influence, including British), and, as you just wrote, situated on the main roads giving access to all parts of Corsica (Balagna/Nebbio, Ajaccio/Sartena, and eastern coast).

Although many of the same considerations apply, I don't think Paoli and Theodore are making the decision under similar conditions. Not only was Paoli's republic in a constant state of war, but Paoli's options were severely constrained by the fact that he controlled none of the Genoese citadels. The only port he held was Isola Rossa (L'Île-Rousse), which was far too vulnerable to make into any sort of capital. Under such conditions Corti was not only a good choice, but really the only choice given its central location and the fact that it was the interior's only fortress. Conveniently, it was also close to Paoli's own clan seat of power in Rostino, a consideration which does not apply to a foreign king.

Corti is likely to be the capital of the kingdom immediately post-independence for the reasons you have mentioned, as well as the fact that it already served as Theodore's capital during his resistance against the French. It controls the revolutionary center of gravity, the Castagniccia, which will be of vital importance when trying to impose one's rule upon an unruly and war-ravaged country. But while Theodore may value his independence, he was also a worldly and cultured man, a world-class raconteur and copious letter-writer who loved news, politics, and gossip, and whose entourage was filled with men of all nations and religions. He saw Corsica's future as being on the water, sustained by the commerce of thriving free-ports. It's difficult for me to imagine him being content with reigning from Corti's wintry citadel when he could be amidst the hustle and bustle of a thriving and cosmopolitan (well, by Corsican standards) port city.
 
I mean, it's Corsica. The country is small enough for Theodore to have a roving capital, built around his person. Some administrative stuff at Corti perhaps, but residences elsewhere most certainly.
 
I doubt that Porto Vecchio will be a major settlement in the 18th century, let alone the capital. The only thing it has going for it is Corsica's best natural harbor. Everything else damns it. Malaria is so bad that the town isn't even permanently inhabited; it turns into a ghost town every summer as the few hundred residents flee up to the mountains.

San Fiorenzo is a small village with serious malaria problems.

and between it and the Balagna is - you guessed it - a marshy coastline plagued by malaria.

Yikes! I had insofar been under the impression that malaria was primarily an issue from San Pellegrino to some distance north of Porto Vecchio. That such a fine port is effectively a desolate pit of disease every summer is a pity.

I've actually been giving a lot of thought to Ajaccio as a prospective capital. The bay is good (if not quite as good as Porto Vecchio), the hinterland is prosperous (if not quite as prosperous as the Balagna), and malaria is only a marginal problem. The city has some defensive weaknesses - it's no Calvi - but it's also much better off than Bastia.

This is interesting. I'd imagine that for a while Corti will be the traditional and de jure capitol, but it will be greatly eclipsed by Ajaccio within Theodore's immediate successor's lifetime, to the point that officially moving the capitol there is the obvious move. It should not be difficult to upgrade Fort Costa and turn it into a permanent fixture of the bay, as well as possibly adding more forts and towers around the Bay of Ajaccio.
 
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