XCII.
Ajaccio, Island of Corsica, March 12, 1854.
I wrote you from Marseilles, the great southern commercial port of France, where much activity prevailed at this season among the vessels, in consequence of the excessive imports of grain, through the failure of the French harvest. I responded to the civilities of our Consul, in dining with our Chargé d’Affaires from Naples, and embarked the following day for Porto Torres, a small seaport upon the island of Sardinia, a distance of some two hundred and fifty miles, by steamer, touching at Corsica. A heavy sea and head wind delayed us; the journey occupied some thirty hours. Thence I proceeded to the principal city, which is called Sassari, and contains a population of some twenty thousand persons.
I found the people more benighted than in any of the other islands of the Mediterranean I had yet seen.
The population of the entire island is estimated at three hundred and fifty thousand; its length is one hundred and fifty miles, and it is from sixty to eighty miles in width. It belongs to the kingdom of Sardinia. The peasantry live in villages, and, not unlike those of the interior of the island of Sicily, go long distances to cultivate the soil, and may be seen at early morn in their coarse black cloaks, with hoods as substitutes for hats, and dark leggings below white cotton pants extending to the knees, trudging out with their donkeys, which bear their implements of husbandry.
The women and children, while watching their flocks of sheep and goats, have a sort of distaff in their hands, and spin with their fingers the coarse wool which serves for their rude covering.
In the mountains large numbers are found who have no habitations, and live in a state of barbarism, covering themselves with skins, bruising grain between two flat stones, and making a sort of paste which is cooked upon the ground, after the fashion of the Arabs on the desert sands.
The country is infested with bandits. Game is abundant, and fire-arms are kept by all who can afford them. Life is unsafe, and comforts are scarcely known in the cities; certainly not outside of them.
The roads are somewhat protected by gens d’armes, who are useful in pursuing the banditti. We picked up eighteen gens d’armes on the road; they say that the bandits fly at their approach, but if cornered, fight desperately.
My casual travelling companion was going to see a person under sentence of death for the murder of his brother; the culprit was in his employ and confidence, but he basely shot him in the back while they were riding their horses quietly along the road. My companion’s object was to ascertain what induced the commission of the crime. The custom is to execute the criminal, if possible, upon the spot where the assassination was committed.
The soil is fertile, but poorly cultivated, and thinly inhabited. The island has but little commerce. The olive groves look well, and furnish oil in abundance. Cork forests abound.
The town of Sassari is encircled with walls and gates; the streets are narrow, and badly paved; the houses are of stone, lofty, but filthy; the inhabitants are dirty. A very small portion of the people seem in easy circumstances. They have a theatre, which is not indifferent, as all the Italian races must have an opera. The cathedral, built in the thirteenth century, is the only respectable monument of antiquity which I found.
The clergy swarm, the profession being resorted to as a military exemption, and more profitable than that, without regard to fitness or qualification; consequently they have a bad reputation.
I could not have believed that I should have found, in such proximity to the continent, a people so behind the age, and so far below the standard even of the Corsicans under French rule.
I was not sorry to escape and get to this place, some seventy miles by water, where one finds the journals from the continent, and a much higher state of civilization, and where fire-arms are prohibited, which is producing great changes in the habits of the people.
Ajaccio is situated upon a gulf of some ten miles in depth; it has about fifteen thousand inhabitants, and contains some fine public buildings; unfortunately, however, it has but little commerce. It is the birthplace of Napoleon, who is the pride of the Corsicans. The house where the hero was born still stands in an obscure part of the old town, upon a little square called Piazza Letizia. It was in those days considered a fine edifice. The identical spot is shown, and the circumstances related of his birth, on the return of his mother from the solemnities of the mass on Assumption Day, 15th August, 1769. The property has been purchased by the present Emperor of France, who has appointed a person to guard it, and preparations are now being made for its restoration.
The family of Bonaparte was of the ancient nobility, and originated in Florence, Italy. Charles Bonaparte, the father, was appointed Deputy of the nobles of Corsica, in 1779, and died in Montpelier, France, in 1785, being only 38 years of age. His wife, Letitia Burnolino, born in 1750, gave birth to thirteen children, all born here; five died young, and the remaining eight comprised one emperor, three kings, one prince, one queen, and two princesses.
A monument has been erected in the public square, to Napoleon, by his nephew, Napoleon III., since his elevation in France.
The Hotel de Ville contains the portraits of the family, and a good life-like statue in marble, of Jerome, while king of Westphalia.
In the Grotto Napoleon, about a mile from the town, after winding through olive-groves, the ambitious boy delighted to pursue his youthful studies.
The public promenades, adorned with orange trees and almonds in bloom, the gardens filled with olives and a profusion of tropical fruits, afford a grateful sight, after escaping from the chilling winds of the continent.
All through the south of France I had noticed great activity in the movement of troops for embarkation for the East. In descending the Saone, our steamer’s deck was occupied by the conscripts, mostly young men, who were leaving home and quiet occupations for the first time perhaps, for the uncertain chances of war. They are distributed to points where actual duty is not required, replacing well-formed troops who are sent to the seat of war. Some thousands who had been held in reserve until needed are now sent from Corsica for the marine and land service.
Under the French system, every able-bodied male is liable to army duty, at twenty-one years of age. On a certain day, which is publicly proclaimed, the parties draw for their chances. In the absence of the young man, his mother or some other authorized person draws for him. He is then liable, and when the call is made he must either supply his place or serve; even after an absence of years, on his return, he is seized for the service. Eighty thousand men are thus drawn annually; the term of duty is seven years. The necessities of the nation have not required the number drawn; but now the balance or reserve of four or five years past is called upon here, more particularly to fortify the marine. The Corsicans from the mountains make good soldiers, and distinguish themselves as officers, and are a brave and warlike people. The sea-coast furnishes good sailors.
It is curious to observe the difference in the habits, customs, and governments of two islands which at their extreme points nearly touch each other, at least by a chain of small islands. In Sardinia the language is a patois, and changes in character from one point to another, partaking strongly of the Italian on one side; partially of the Arabic in the south; and in the west slightly of the Spanish; while here the French is commonly understood, though the Italian patois is the language of the people. But what can be expected where every restriction is placed upon communication?
I had my passport examined and visé five times in Sardinia, at considerable expense, notwithstanding it bore the Ambassador’s visé of the kingdom of Sardinia at Paris, for which he had exacted his fee. All these checks upon intercourse, and these annoyances, only tend to put a little pocket-money into the hands of officials.
In Sardinia, tobacco is cultivated, but the Government seizes the product, and pays its price. The sale of cigars is a monopoly, consequently the quality is very bad, and the prices are double those of this place, where the people are exempt from the tax which exists on the article there, and also in France.
I was strongly reminded of the Basque provinces in the north of Spain, at Bilboa and St. Sebastian, where the people enjoy a similar privilege in the free sale and manufacture of the weed. There, as here, the poor employ themselves in making cigars, which are superior to those for which you pay double at the government shops on the peninsula. The consequence is that everybody smokes by common consent.
One of the most remarkable features in the Corsican race is the spirit of vengeance, which for centuries has existed among them, and which is most difficult to eradicate. Thanks to the government of the emperor, the carrying of arms is strictly prohibited here, and eight thousand gens d’armes are scattered over an island three hundred and sixty miles in circumference.
A most salutary, but arbitrary law, applicable to the case, arrests and imprisons the parents, family, and friends of an outlaw or bandit who has fled to the mountains, or is concealed. In this way his maintenance is cut off; and a reward is offered for his head. Frequent instances have been known where persons have harbored bandits through fear, and have performed the execution of the law, and divided the reward with the gend’armerie.
Instances were not rare, before such rigorous measures were adopted, of sending anonymous letters demanding sums of money, or submission to the consequences. Families exterminated each other. The mother guarded sacredly the linen of a murdered husband, until her son was capable of resenting the act, when his vengeance was excited by the blood-stained garment of the father. A gentleman acquaintance informed me, that when he came on the island, some years since, he gave a little soirée, to which were invited the élite of the little town where he resided. His daughter had misplaced her handkerchief; observing another upon a hat, she took it up and discovered pistols, and could not conceive the object. When the party retired, the report of fire-arms was heard in all directions. The friends and servants of the parties opposed had chosen the opportunity for revenge.
This characteristic is said to have existed since the wars with the Genoese, and the feuds that grew out of those contests.
The people are hospitable and civil, and a stranger can now travel over the island in perfect safety, if he comports himself properly, and avoids exciting their prejudices.
Steam communication with the continent, and the light of civilization, are producing considerable changes in the condition of this people.