THE last century was the century of adventurers. In the last half especially, when the days were growing disorderly, and nations hurrying on to the grand combustion, the ground seems to emit gases and lurid light, and many will-o'-the-wisp figures and spectres flit by. "Knights of Industry" have crowded the road at all times, with more or less freedom; but a hundred years ago a peculiar class of dramatic adventurer-theatrical in dress, and really interesting in the line he chose-came to the footlights, played with success for a time, was received with applause, and then of a sudden went down through a trap, and was, perhaps, killed by the fall was at least never heard of again. They wore gold and silver, these men and women; they lived sumptuously, with kings and nobles, and there was a gloss of fascination over all they did. We know the kind of person when we think of Law of Lauriston, of Cagliostro, of Oliva, the heroine of the Diamond Necklace, of Baron Trenck, of Paoli, and of THEODORE, KING OF CORSICA.

These actors are not to be met with now-at a sacrifice of much picturesque effect for social history. The stage is not suitable for their performance. There was a slow communication between countries, and the clouds and mists of the distant and unknown, hung over remote lands. It was laborious and difficult to get from France into Germany, or from Germany into Italy. The highways bristled with adventure. A hero disappeared from a city, and became lost as it were, and was heard of perhaps two years later, in a dusky rumour, borne home in a stray ship, or in the wallet of some traveller fresh from the grand tour. There were splendid hunting grounds for the adroit, daring, and unscrupulous man, and the crowd could easily be dazzled. But we see it was what verged on the flashy or theatrical that was most likely to succeed-something gaudy

that presented itself in cloth of gold or silver; and the most melodramatic of the whole train of dazzling impostors that trooped across the stage in a sort of uninterrupted procession, was the Baron Theodore, who became King of Corsica. His is the most fascinating story of all.

II.

THE struggles of the picturesque little island in the Mediterranean had begun to attract a decent attention from the rest of Europe looking on. The particulars drifted home at uncertain intervals were meagre enough; and though "James Boswell, Esq., of Auchinleck,"considered that a London newspaper of his day was one of the most marvellous achievements of the human race; the scraps of foreign news that reached England were of the baldest sort, and more like telegrams. The contest had been going on for four or five years, and at the St. James's Coffee-house, and other places of resort, it had become fashionable to talk with interest of the

brave Corsicans" and their desperate efforts to eject the Genoese. Soon ten thousand Germans appeared in the island, under Baron Wachtendonck and the Prince of Wurtemburg, whose presence, after a good deal of severe fighting, with issues surprisingly doubtful, considering the weakness of the insurgents and the good training of the German troops, scarcely appeared to mend matters. The island, meanwhile, was laid waste. Within a year more than thirty forts and towns had been given up to sack and ruin. The rich gardens and orchards had been rudely torn up. Both parties began to tire of the unsatisfactory issue of the struggle, and finally at the little city of Corte, a sort of convention of delegates from both sides assembled to discuss an arrangement-the thoughtful precaution being first taken of giving hostages.

Everything about this episode was

destined to be dramatic; and even this meeting was theatrical enough in all its properties. The Germans were represented by the Princes of Wurtemberg, Culmbach, and Waldeck, the Count de Ligneville, and the Baron de Wachtendonck; the Genoese, by a Doria, a Rivarola, and others; the Corsicans, by Giafferi, a priest, Raffaelli, Alexandrini, and some more. The place where these deputies met was singularly striking in its bold and picturesque situation. The little city is in a sort of bowl; and the sides of the bowl are mountains of a prodigious steepness. It is built partly in the plain and partly runs up the sides of these mountains-is at the edge, as it were, of a sort of meeting of the waters, and has always impressed travellers by the strange wildness of its situation, and its strong significance of natural strength.

From the side of one of the hills and at the back of the town, projected a sort of bold crag, upon which the citadel was built, and considered a miracle of inaccessible strength-to be approached by a little winding pathway, broad enough for two persons only.

The German commissioners, with a wise forecast, took up their abode in this fastness. The Genoese stopped with the Franciscan Fathers, whose convent was in the plain below, and where later Paoli, and Mr. Boswell, and every stranger of distinction, was entertained; and the Corsicans, at the Podesta's house, in the city. The Bishop of Aleria also took part.

The first meeting took place on May the tenth. All the different parties made speeches, and those of Giafferi and the Corsicans are said to

did not last very long-even though they presented the German negociator with "a sword, a star of diamonds, and a cane"-presents worth 500,000 crowns. A cane was the grand decorative testimonial of the day, and by-and-by another cane, of a yet stranger significance, was to make its entry on the scene.

Wachtendonck and his men, accordingly, embarked and left the island to the two parties, who very soon relapsed into the old sore state of feeling; the governing party bitterly resenting the mortification they had suffered from inferiors whom they despised; the governed jealously suspicious lest the new engagement should not be carried out.

Suddenly, however, news was spread through the island of a violent proceeding. On pretence that a Corsican marquis (Raffaelli) had made his escape with some papers which compromised certain parties, the faithless Genoese seized on the deputies, whose persons might have been presumed to be sacred after the analogy of ambassadors; and having put three of the more guilty to death, sent the rest away to Bastia, from Bastia over to Genoa, and finally, on the 11th October, lodged them in the strong fort of Savona.

On this the islanders again assembled in force. They forwarded complaints to Vienna; and Baron Wachtendonck, who with his Germans had so lately brought about an accommodation, was specially appealed to. It was felt, indeed, at that Court-then not too scrupulous-that a rude and rough outrage had been committed.

It was one of "the strong, big boys" of Europe; and the

The second took place on the following day, and lasted until four o'clock in the evening, when all sat together at a splendid banquet, given by the Corsican Giafferi. Everything was happily arranged, or at least agreed to. It was settled that certain taxes should be abolished, that the natives should be eligible to office in their own country, and that the Corsican nobility should be treated with all proper consideration when they presented themselves at the capital of the republic.

But, as might reasonably be expected, this enforced accommodation

VOL. LXIII.-NO. CCCLXXVII.

kept running to it to complain of one another. The Genoese grew alarmed, and sent to Vienna, to state their defence before the Emperor. There was much letter-writing and protocolling; and suddenly, to the surprise of all, on the 22nd April, 1733, the gates of the Savona fortress were thrown open, and the Corsican deputies enlarged-an act of grace which caused great discussion, some saying that it was the direct act of the Emperor himself, others that it was owing to the skilful intercession of a quasi envoy of his, then at Florence. Whatever the true solution, it at once

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