Peeps at Many Lands: Corsica

by Ernest Young

Bonifacio owes its name to Boniface, a Tuscan Duke, who founded the town over a thousand years ago. He had been fighting in Africa, and on his way home he touched at the southern end of the island and built a fortress which he called by his own name, a name that has also been given to the strait that separates Corsica from the more southerly island of Sardinia. Boniface intended his fort to be used as a defence against Saracen pirates.

THE HARBOUR, BONIFACIO.

In due time (1195) it was taken by the Genoese, who drove out nearly all the original inhabitants and replaced them by their own people. To these people they gave a great deal of liberty. The new colonists were allowed to coin their own money and to make most of their own laws. In consequence of this treatment, they remained faithful to the Genoese in later years, at a time when most of the other towns in the island were rebelling against foreign rule. They defended their town with courage and determination on many occasions, when they were attacked by Corsican or other forces. At one time they were besieged by Alphonso V., the King of Aragon, who said that the island belonged to him, because the Pope had made a present of it to his father. As no one paid any attention to his claims, he came with a fleet and 10,000 men to obtain possession of his rights. He laid siege to Bonifacio. He surrounded the town both by land and by sea for a period of five months. From a hill to the north of the town he directed a steady bombardment against the fort, and destroyed a part of the defences. Provisions grew scarce, but the colonists still held out. A small vessel escaped from the harbour and managed to reach Genoa, carrying the news to the doge of that city that if help did not soon arrive, the inhabitants of Bonifacio would be forced by fire and hunger to surrender the fort that they had so valiantly defended. The doge lost no time in sending a small fleet laden with provisions, but this fleet carried only 1,500 men to relieve a place that was besieged by 10,000. The inhabitants had almost given up all hope of relief, and the Spaniards were expecting the immediate surrender of the fort and town, when a new Genoese force, clad in bright armour, appeared upon the walls. The Spaniards were told that reinforcements had arrived during the night, though, as a matter of fact, nothing of the kind had happened. The new army consisted simply of the women, children, and priests of the town, who had clothed themselves in steel in order to take part in the defence of their homes. When the real Genoese relief force did arrive, it found the harbour blocked by a number of galleys firmly chained together. The Genoese commander drove his vessels against the chain, forced the barrier, and so got through the Spanish lines and saved the town. Alphonso left the Corsicans to themselves, and never again made any attempt to capture the island.

The inhabitants of Bonifacio speak a special dialect of their own. They are much more gentle in their manners than the rest of the Corsicans, whom they regard as strangers. They are not quarrelsome, and murders, which are so common everywhere else, are here almost unknown. The men work hard, and do not treat their women as slaves and beasts of burden. About the only time in the year when the women of Bonifacio are expected to work in the fields is at the time of the olive harvest, when everybody leaves the town in the morning and returns again only in the evening. During the day the town is completely deserted. The whole population is in the fields. The return of the labourers in the evening is a curious sight. They come home in a long procession, walking one behind the other in single file, accompanied by hundreds of donkeys bearing baskets full of ripe olives.

Bonifacio is one of the most picturesque and interesting places in the island. It is built on the top of a high mass of white chalk, and is reached by a steep and winding road. The streets are narrow alleys with numerous passages, connecting one with the other, and winding in and out in all directions. The houses are tall and dirty, and so close together that in many places the sun finds little chance of entering the unpleasantly smelling byways.

On one side of the town, overlooking the sea, there is a terrace, from which you can pass by means of a long flight of steps to the waves at the foot of the rock. Tradition states that the staircase was cut in a single night. Not far from the terrace is an old church, which is said to contain a piece of the cross upon which Christ was crucified.

I must tell you how this bit of the true cross came to be found. Bonifacio had been attacked and plundered by the Saracens, and the people were in great distress. One morning, some of the inhabitants observed an ox and an ass kneeling in front of their one little spring. The animals were gazing intently at the surface of the water. The men who had seen this curious sight ran away and told their friends. It was not long before a huge crowd had gathered round the kneeling animals. Amongst this crowd were two or three priests. They noticed that the waters of the spring, which were usually quiet, were now jumping about and bubbling over in a most excited manner. Coming nearer, they found that there was a bit of wood in the water, and that it was whirling round at a great rate. They seized it and examined it, and pronounced it to be a bit of the true cross.

The sacred morsel of wood is now kept in a cupboard built into the wall, and is guarded by an iron door. The door has two keys, one of which is in the possession of the Mayor, while the curé has charge of the other. The lock is so made that both keys are required to open it. On certain days of the year the relic is carried in procession through the town. On dark nights, when tempests are howling, and the great waves are dashing in fury against the base of the rock, the people go to the Mayor, and then to the curé, and escort them both to the church. The cupboard is unlocked, the bit of sacred wood is carried to the edge of the cliffs, and prayers are said above the angry waters. Then the tempest ceases, the waves become still, and the morsel of the true cross is once more locked up in its strongly guarded resting-place.

There are other superstitions at Bonifacio, such as the one which tells you never to sleep with your feet pointing to the door, as that is the way corpses go out. Then, if anyone is ill in the house, or away from home, so that he cannot take his usual place at the table, no one else is allowed to sit in the empty chair. If there be any fear that this will happen, the table is always pushed with one side against the wall, thus preventing anyone from sitting on that side. The plate and knife and fork of the sick or absent one are laid just the same as if he were present.