Napoleon's Wars_ An International History, 1803-1815 - Charles Esdaile [14]
His mother often told me that . . . Napoleon never took part in the games played by other children of his age, and that he on the contrary took pains to avoid them. Given a little room of his own whilst still very young on the third floor of the house, he would often shut himself up on his own. Not even coming down to eat with the family, he would read constantly, and especially works of history.3
Was anything added to this volatile mixture by Napoleon’s Corsican background? According to some accounts the answer is very clearly ‘yes’. Napoleon, we learn, grew up imbued with a deep sense of honour and a prodigious love of display that owed their origins to an obsession with status typical of Corsican society. To this was added a fierce clan loyalty that inspired him constantly to seek the advancement of his family and, in addition, to feel a responsibility for the welfare of each of its individual members, not to mention a deep-seated spirit of adventure that had led many Corsicans to seek their fortunes by turning corsair or soldier of fortune. And finally there were the linked issues of egalitarianism and justice for all: in Corsica, even noble families such as the Buonapartes were not set so very far apart from the mass of the populace, while poor and not so poor alike could justifiably feel deep resentment at the island’s long history of conquest, exploitation and neglect. However, there is little here that fills the observer with much confidence. Much more important is the issue of the Paoli regime of
1755-69 . As a possession of the Republic of Genoa, Corsica had by the early eighteenth century become affected by a variety of grievances, and in 1729 the island rose in revolt. Long years of stalemate followed and by the middle years of the century it appeared that the Corsican cause was spent. Early in 1755, however, Pasquale Paoli, a junior officer in the Neapolitan army who was the younger brother of one of the chief leaders of the insurrection, returned to the island. By all accounts a remarkable figure, Paoli quickly placed himself at the head of the revolt and managed to rekindle his feuding and disunited countrymen’s enthusiasm for the struggle. Military victory was not obtained - the Genoese could never be eradicated from the main coastal fortresses - but Paoli did succeed in creating a functioning state and, what is more, a state that for a short time secured the admiration of many of the leading figures of the age. Inspired by the writings of Montesquieu, the Corsican leader promulgated a written constitution that proclaimed the sovereignty of the people, established a parliament that was in part elected by universal manhood suffrage, in part elected by the clergy, and in part chosen by Paoli himself; and greatly restricted his authority as de facto president. But if he could in this fashion establish Corsica’s political credentials as the home of liberty, and thereby win the admiration of such figures as Jean-Jacques Rousseau and James Boswell, he could not save Corsica from conquest: in 1768 Genoa ceded control of the island to France, and within a year Bourbon troops had crushed all resistance.
What, if anything, did all this give Napoleon? In terms of youthful inspiration, at least, a great deal. The involvement of his father with Paoli - he had risen to be his secretary and accompanied him in his desperate defence of the island against the French - was a source of pride to the young Corsican, as well as an object lesson in how to make personal capital from an age of political turmoil. At the same time, too, it both sharpened his own dreams of glory and provided him with a focus for his ambition. Yet more important than anything else was the figure of Pasquale Paoli himself, who Napoleon undoubtedly viewed as an important role model: according to Las Cases, the Corsican leader