“A Frenchman,” he said, “I speak to Frenchmen, and, nearly shipwrecked, I ask aid from those who are themselves out of danger.”
Greatly to his surprise and his gratification, he was treated with every honour and welcomed on board as a king, and the next day he landed at Bastia.
He had come at a moment when Corsica was in the throes of a civil war of its own, between the followers of the Bourbons, the adherents of Napoleon, and a party who, sitting on the fence between, called themselves Independents. Many of Murat’s old-time companions in arms had been natives of Corsica, and, the Napoleonists and Independents being in the majority, they called upon Joachim to help them crush the remainder and rule over the island afterwards. This was the sort of invitation which the fiery cavalryman was always only too ready to accept, and his heart soared into the heavens!
One begins to understand the reason why Napoleon could hold all Europe down when one reads the adventures of Murat and Ney and Soult. Even when the great force behind them was removed, and they were struggling single-handed, while the least and weakest chance remained to continue fighting they would fight. They never counted the odds, they never parleyed with a compromise, repeated defeats never cooled their courage; they would follow as hard upon the faintest ray of hope as they had galloped into the blazing sunlight of an assured victory.
It was not long before Joachim became the object of the deepest suspicion to such authorities as still remained in Corsica, and he removed himself to Vescovado, and thence to Ajaccio, with the enthusiastic assistance of the discontented element in the island. Once more, under the action of the popular support, he began to feel a king, and frequently remarked that if strangers rallied to him in this fashion, the Neapolitans might be expected to rise en masse at his appearance. “I accept it as a happy augury!” he exclaimed.
It seems incredible that, after his experience among them, Joachim should have an illusion left about his late subjects. But he evidently had, and he determined to descend upon Salerno, where 3,000 of his former troops were quartered. They were, he was sure, discontented with the Bourbons—being what they were, they were bound to be discontented with any sort of established authority—and with these he expected to march towards Avellino, increasing his following as he went, throwing a panic into the capital before him; in fine, repeating the Napoleonic performance, and seating himself firmly upon the throne before the Austrians could descend upon him.
He had completed his arrangements, when he received a letter from Maceroni informing him that the latter was upon his way to Ajaccio, and that he was bringing good news with him.
He waited a day for him, and Maceroni, when he appeared, presented Murat with a note written in French.
“His Majesty the Emperor of Austria” (it ran) “will grant an asylum to King Joachim on the following conditions:
“First. That the King shall assume a private name; and the Queen having taken that of Lipano, the same is proposed to the King.