wo would soon complete the final act of his public career.

The plan for invading Sardinia was over-complex and too nicely
adjusted. One portion of the fleet was to skirt the Italian shores,
make demonstrations in the various harbors, and demand in one of
them--that of Naples--public reparation for an insult already offered
to the new French flag, which displayed the three colors of liberty.
The other portion was first to embark the Corsican guards and French
troops at Ajaccio, then to unite with the former in the Bay of Palma,
whence both were to proceed against Cagliari. But the French soldiers
to be taken from the Army of the Var under General Anselme were in
fact non-existent; the only military force to be found was a portion
of the Marseilles national guard--mere boys, unequipped, untrained,
and inexperienced. Winds and waves, too, were adverse: two of the
vessels were wrecked, and one was disabled. The rest were badly
demoralized, and their crews became unruly. On the arrival of the
ships at Ajaccio, a party of roistering sailors went ashore,
affiliated immediately with the French soldiers of the garrison, and
in the rough horse-play of such occasions picked a quarrel with
certain of the Corsican militia, killing two of their number. The
character of the islanders showed itself at once in further violence
and the fiercest threats. The tumult was finally allayed, but it was
perfectly clear that for Corsicans and Marseillais to be embarked on
the same vessel was to invite mutiny, riot, and bloodshed.

Buonaparte thought he saw his way to an independent command, and at
once proposed what was manifestly the only alternative--a separate
Corsican expedition. The French fleet accordingly embarked the
garrison troops, and proceeded on its way; the Corsicans remained
ashore, and Buonaparte with them. Scenes like that at Ajaccio were
repeated in the harbor of St. Florent, and the attack on Cagliari by
the French failed, partly, as might be supposed, from the poor
equipment of the fleet and the wretched quality of the men, partly
because the two flotillas, or what was left of them, failed to effect
a junction at the appointed place and time. When they did unite, it
was February fourteenth, 1793; the men were ill fed and mutinous; the
troops that landed to storm the place fell into a panic, and would
actually have surrendered if the officers had not quickly reembarked
them. The costly enterprise met with but a single success