Gertrude Forde - A Ladys Tour in Corsica, Vol. 2 (of 2)

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Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive. See https://archive.org/details/ladystourincorsi02ford Project Gutenberg has the other volume of this work. Volume I: see http://www.gutenberg.org/files/44993/44993-h/44993-h.htm

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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.

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CHAPTER	PAGE
I.	En Route for BavellaAn Eccentric Landlord
II.	The Forest of Bavella
III.	Sartene
IV.	The Lion of Roccapina
V.	Bonifacio
VI.	Curiosities of Bonifacio
VII.	A Sermon by the Wayside
VIII.	To Vico
IX.	Evisa among the Hills
X.	Giant Forests
XI.	Porto, La Piana, and Carghese
XII.	From Carghese to Ajaccio
XIII.	Bocognano Bugbears
XIV.	The Forest of Sorba
XV.	The Inzecca
XVI.	The Last of Antonio
XVII.	To Bastia from Corte
XVIII.	History of Corsica

A LADY'S TOUR IN CORSICA.

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CHAPTER I.
EN ROUTE FOR BAVELLAAN 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 parapetmade 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'espre," 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 countryindustry 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.

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