ition was sent under an able commander,
the Marquis de Maillebois. He divided his forces into two bodies.
Marching through the heart of the country each army carried devastation
in its path. "He cut down the standing corn," writes Boswell, "the
vines, the olives, set fire to the villages, and spread terror and
desolation in every quarter. He hanged numbers of monks and others who
were keenest in the revolt, and at the same time published, wherever he
went, his terms of capitulation." In a few weeks, all but the wildest
parts of the island were reduced. By the end of the next year there was
not a single patriot left in arms.

In 1741 broke out the war of the Austrian Succession, and the French
troops, which were needed elsewhere, were recalled. Once more the island
rose; even young boys took the field. The Genoese were driven into the
fortified towns. The Corsican leader Gaffori was besieging the Castle of
Corte, when the defenders, making a sudden sally, seized his infant son,
whom his nurse had thoughtlessly carried too near the walls. "The
General," says Boswell, in language which strikes us as most odd,
though, to the men of his time, it sounded perhaps natural enough,
"showed a decent concern at this unhappy accident, which struck a damp
into the whole army. The Genoese," he goes on to say, "thought they
could have Gaffori upon their own terms, since they were possessed of so
dear a pledge. When he advanced to make some cannon play, they held up
his son, directly over that part of the wall against which his artillery
was levelled. The Corsicans stopped, and began to draw back; but
Gaffori, with the resolution of a Roman, stood at their head, and
ordered them to continue the fire." The child escaped and lived to tell
Boswell this curious story.

In 1745, England "not, as if from herself, but as complying with the
request of her ally, the king of Sardinia," sent a squadron of ships to
the assistance of the Corsicans. They came before Bastia on November
18th--three days, as it is worth while noticing, after the town of
Carlisle had surrendered to the forces of the Young Pretender. "There
was but little wind blowing, and the men of war had to be towed up by
the long boats. The fortress of Bastia let fly first, and made a
terrible fire, particularly against the commodore's ship, whose flag was
beat down three times, and her main and mizen masts broke. The Commodore
being exasperated immediately ordered the Castle to be