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Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
A LADY'S TOUR IN CORSICA.
by
GERTRUDE FORDE.
In Two Volumes.
VOL. II.
London:
Richard Bentley and Son,
New Burlington Street.
1880.
(All rights reserved.)
Printed By William Clowes and Sons, Limited,
Beccles and London.
CONTENTS OF VOL. II.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. En Route for Bavella--An Eccentric Landlord 1
II. The Forest of Bavella 16
III. Sartene 29
IV. The Lion of Roccapina 38
V. Bonifacio 45
VI. Curiosities of Bonifacio 58
VII. A Sermon by the Wayside 67
VIII. To Vico 88
IX. Evisa among the Hills 103
X. Giant Forests 113
XI. Porto, La Piana, and Carghese 132
XII. From Carghese to Ajaccio 147
XIII. Bocognano Bugbears 154
XIV. The Forest of Sorba 176
XV. The Inzecca 192
XVI. The Last of Antonio 204
XVII. To Bastia from Corte 213
XVIII. History of Corsica 232
A LADY'S TOUR IN CORSICA.
CHAPTER I.
EN ROUTE FOR BAVELLA--AN ECCENTRIC LANDLORD.
Sainte Lucie di Tallano is the halting-place for the forest of Bavella.
From thence you can mount up to the Bocca; starting early, and spending
the whole day in the forest, returning again to sleep at Sainte Lucie.
There is another route, sometimes followed, by which you drive down the
other side of the forest to Sollenzara, on the east coast; but, as this
place is reported to be exceedingly dirty, and is, besides, not healthy
after the winter months, if it is then, it is not to be recommended.
From Propriano to Sainte Lucie is a five-hours' drive, and a steady
ascent the whole way.
The road is less interesting than usual in Corsica, and, for some
distance, is almost tame, winding amongst low green hills, and by the
side of a foaming river swept by willows. Some queer-looking crows with
white breasts were fluttering about here; and, further on, the river
was spanned by an old-fashioned Pisan bridge, wide enough only for
mules and foot-passengers, with no parapet--made in the days when carts
and carriages apparently were not.
There was a good deal of traffic on this road: plenty of
muscular-looking Corsican dames bestriding their mules, and generally
followed by a foal; and heavy charrettes, drawn by six mules, and
filled with sacks of charcoal, brought from the forests above.
Then a hideous red tower came in sight, stuck on the summit of a
low hill, like a piece of scarlet sealing-wax; and which, our driver
informed us, was the summer residence of some country magnate, who
migrated thither yearly with his family "pour prendre l'air frais."
As we mounted higher, the scenery grew finer, with a rather dreary
grandeur; and as we paused to rest the horses, Nos. 1 and 2 got out to
walk, and No. 3 took the opportunity to sketch.
Meanwhile, the driver stood beside the carriage, eyeing her performance
with some curiosity. He was a short young man, with a heavy figure, but
the head and neck of an Antinous, and a pleasant refined face, with the
mixture, often seen in Corsica, of dark eyes and a yellow moustache.
He was as proud and reticent as the rest of his race, and hitherto we
had scarcely heard his voice, although he did his duties well, and was
sternly attentive to our wants.
No. 3's first effort at friendly conversation did not prosper. "I
suppose you come from Ajaccio?" she asked, meaning to be kind and
sociable.
But your true Corsican does not understand patronage, nor care for
sociability.
"Non," replied the little man, shortly.
"Oh, from the mountains, then?" she continued, affably.
"Non plus," was the unresponsive return.
No. 3 made one more effort, although feeling a little snubbed by her
companion's taciturnity. "But you know these parts well?"
"Mais oui; je l'espére," was all the answer she got as he turned away,
either too proud or too shy to talk; leaving her mentally resolved
to make no further efforts at friendliness with this most unfriendly
Corsican.
This resolution, however, soon melted away, as did Antonio's shyness;
and, before long, we and our young coachman were the best of friends.
He was very different from most of his class.
Antonio had already, although only twenty-four, been nine years a
driver, having had only two years' schooling; but, in that short
time, had taught himself to write and to read both Italian and French.
Nature had taught him to be a gentleman, and had endowed him with two
qualities rare in his country--industry and a desire to rise.
He had a kindly gentle nature; although his sleepy dark eyes were
quite capable of the national flash of sudden anger; and joined
a conscientious integrity to the usual dignified reticence and
independence of manner.
Corsican coachmen, whether private or belonging to livery stables,
are usually paid at the rate of only twelve or thirteen francs a week
(about ten shillings); and on this wretched pay the men have to find
both food and clothes, if in a public stable. Of course, in the season,
they make about as much by their "pour boires;" but this is very
uncertain, and, at times, fails altogether.
There is not much occupation open to those few Corsicans who will work.
Agriculture only goes on in part of the country; and masons and day
labourers are really not required.
The projected railway across the island will be the greatest blessing
to those of the natives who have the good sense and manliness to prefer
work to starvation.
It is doubtful how many will do this. In Ajaccio, every winter,
families are at death's door through the inherent idleness of their
heads, who will neither work nor beg, and who apply the words of the
Unjust Steward to themselves. In the country, matters are equally bad.
Toil and beggary are equally obnoxious and degrading in their eyes;
and they often prefer, both for themselves and their innocent children,
actual starvation.
It is a most incomprehensible state of things to the practical British
mind, but a characteristic not confined to Corsica. I cannot resist
quoting a passage from Mr. Hamerton's book, "Round My House."
"The contrast between certain races and others," he says, "in regard
to the sort of pride which scorns self-help, is very striking, and
it is worth remark that a certain form of nobleness appears to be
almost incompatible with the watchful activity of really effectual
self-help. The Highlanders of Scotland and the Arabs of Algeria have
both a certain sentiment about self-help which is far from the English
feeling, and still further from American or French feeling upon the
subject. The Highlander will, no doubt, work a little when absolutely
compelled by what to him appears unavoidable necessity, but he takes no
delight in his work, and feels degraded by it. He will submit to any
amount of inconvenience sooner than apply himself heartily to remedy
it." Mr. Hamerton goes on to quote two cases in point, both of which
came under his notice but lately in the Highlands.
One was that of a congregation divided from their parish church, in all
but dry weather, by an impassable stream, which it would have been easy
enough to span with the simplest of wooden bridges, but which remained
for years unregarded, whilst the population preferred, to a few hours'
work, the constant trouble of going by a long circuit to their church.
The other case was that of a landing-stage, always dangerous on rough
and stormy days, where a little pier might have been easily run out;
but where things remained _in statu quo_ year after year, to the
destruction of property, by reason of the inertness of the surrounding
boat-owners.
But meanwhile we, on our way to Sainte Lucie, were mounting higher and
higher towards the clouds, among scenery that was becoming grand. The
purple ranges of serrated peaks that stood out against the sky were
very fine in their misty outlines; and, on the mountain side just above
us, three villages, one beneath the other, caught the last lights of
the setting sun. The upper one, called St. Henri, was distinguished by
its picturesque church spire standing out among the green trees and
grey houses; the lower one was Olmiche, and the middle one, Sainte
Lucie di Tallano. On the left of Tallano, rose a fine building like
a church, but which, we were informed, was a deserted convent, with a
treasured picture within its walls.
As we toiled slowly up the heights, many a small unpretending black
cross of wood, half covered by macchie, rose from the hills or stood
beside the roadway, marking the place where life had been lost on this
dangerous path, or taken by the hand of fellow-man through robbery and
revenge.
The situation of Tallano was lovely; but the appearance of the village
did not promise luxurious quarters for the night. The entrance to the
little inn was not bad for Corsica; but the bare little salle à manger
and comfortless bedrooms were uninviting. The floors of the latter were
dirty, the furniture broken, and chiefly conspicuous by its absence,
and the air within close and muggy.
However, here we were to stay for the night--_nolentes volentes_--so it
was of no use grumbling over the inevitable. There were but two rooms
to spare, but a _canapie_ was brought in for No. 3.
As a Corsican traveller, I give this piece of advice strongly: by
all means eschew canapies. They are usually one foot wide, and of
the consistency of a deal board; and, having been used as couches by
the family, their friends, and the children for years, without ever a
dusting, or the advantages, possessed by a bed, of changed sheets and
counterpanes, are, as a rule, indescribably filthy and unpleasant.
If, however, as at Tallano, a bed is not procurable, and you are very
tired, a canapie is perhaps preferable to bare and dirty boards, over
which disports the nocturnal beetle; and the best plan then is to shut
eyes and nose as closely as possible, and dream of your own dear cot at
home.
But I am bound to say the Tallano dirt was all on the outside. The
beds were perfectly clean, and, but for the snores of the old landlord
and his family, reposing in the salle à manger close by, we might have
enjoyed undisturbed repose.
Dinner was announced to be at seven o'clock; and we found three other
places laid beside ours at the little round table. Presently the door
opened, and in walked three Corsican "messieurs;" all very stiff and
shy, and all got up, in our honour, in irreproachable evening attire.
Three stiff but polite bows were made, to which we responded in like
manner; and then, in solemn silence, broken only by the clatter of the
ragged unkempt waiting girl, we all sat down to commence our soup, our
fish, and sweet-breads. The silence was growing hysterical, when one of
our party, afraid of losing her manners with her gravity, ventured to
remark that the evening looked stormy.
The three messieurs instantly all lifted their three shiny black heads
with a look of relief, and rushed at the witty remark with the avidity
of hungry dogs upon a juicy bone. Conversation having been thus happily
started, flourished healthily to the end of dinner.
All three were young men whose duties kept them in this small village;
one being telegraph and post-office overseer, another some sort of
government land agent, and the third of trade or profession unknown.
None of the three had ever been out of their native island, but all
seemed intelligent and well educated; and their courtesy and good
manners were beyond criticism.
They told us what they knew about the country, and about our excursion
to Bavella to-morrow; and one of them insisted upon bestowing a nice
piece of "orbicular granite" upon No. 3.
This so-called orbicular granite (which is no granite at all, but
probably a kind of hornblende) is a natural curiosity of Corsica, and
is said to be found rarely, if ever, in other countries. A fine quarry
of it is being worked in the hills just above Tallano. The stone is
of a pale malachite green, covered with narrow white rings that run in
every direction, not only across but through the stone, and have every
appearance of fossils. They are not fossils, however, but of the same
substance as the green foundation. It is very handsome when polished,
and is sold in small pieces for house and church decoration, and for
fancy articles.
Dinner being over, the three messieurs departed, each with a polite
bow; and we prepared to draw round the fire and enjoy a private chat.
But we counted without our host, who presently appeared, pipe in mouth,
and after inquiring if our dinner had been good, and putting more wood
upon the fire, drew his chair into our circle and showed an intention
of joining us. He was rather a gentlemanly old man, with keen black
eyes and iron-grey hair; but decidedly eccentric. We had been warned
beforehand that he was "quite mad;" and so felt a little alarmed now
by his friendly proximity, but were soon reassured by his manner. He
was not master of much French, however, and had a habit of saying
"Hein? hein?" all the time his neighbours were speaking, which did
not improve matters. But he was exceedingly irate when he could not
understand what was said; and his splutters of wrath were only equalled
by the geniality of his smile when, a little later, he brought up his
children, one by one, followed by their young mother, to say "bonsoir"
to the English ladies, and lift their little caps from their round
heads.
A more queer character I never saw than this old fellow, with his
irritable temper and his tender heart taking transparent turns on his
countenance. Velvet cap on head, and pipe in mouth, he told us tales
of our compatriots who had passed the night at his inn on their way to
Bavella, invariably inquiring if we were of their acquaintance; and
sometimes expecting us to recognize them by a description of their
personal appearance only, without the superfluity of a name.
One anecdote he told with especial pride, relative to a gold watch
worth 500 francs, left behind by an Englishman under his pillow the
last night he was here, and which he transmitted by the next English
visitor to its owner, subsequently found at Ajaccio.
"If you leave anything behind you, mesdames, in my house, you need have
nothing to fear. Nothing is ever lost _here_."
And he was no doubt correct. But the peppery side of his character
came to light later on in the evening, when No. 3, having retired to
her room, found the canapie made up with _one_ very narrow sheet, open
necessarily only at one side, by that means further reducing the width
of the narrow berth.
Somewhat indignant, she called up the nondescript waiting girl,
insisting upon another sheet, and the remaking of the canapie; which
was effected with a little unwillingness.
She had just retired again and locked her door (which fortunately
boasted a key), when the old gentleman came hammering at it, to know
what had been wanted.
She informed him nothing was wanted now, as her wants had been
supplied; but this did not satisfy that irate personage late of
the sunny smile, who still demanded admittance, evidently with the
intention of scolding.
But it was of no avail his rattling the door handle, and trying to
force an entrance, as No. 3, a little frightened, remained firm, and
fortunately the door also; and after an appeal to his better feelings
through the excuse that her attire was, at the moment, insufficient
for the reception of company, the old gentleman at length retreated,
grumbling loudly to himself.