Bogliu fà la to bindetta.
CHAPTER IX.
CORTE AND ITS HOTEL.
From Ponte alle Lecchia the road follows the course of the foaming river Vecchio for a long way, along a wide valley, where the green hills circling round are somewhat monotonous for a time, but presently turn into handsome grey and white limestone cliffs, hanging in one place in wild and curious peaks above the passing carriage.
After the large village of Cabouralino, the scenery becomes tamer again, the ground more cultivated, flocks of black and white silky haired goats with silvery bells passing us constantly.
The road, too, was here alive with men riding mules, and leading after them by a cord a string of other mules with packs on their backs. It was a matter of difficulty to pass some of these mules, who were not accustomed to "carriage company," and who backed towards the precipice occasionally, kicking wildly, to the discomfiture of their owners.
This part of the country was the scene of the battle of Ponte Nuovo, in 1769, the last battle fought for Corsican independence; and the date from which Corsica became a French province. It has a touching interest for this reason, and on account of its being a witness to the last vain effort of Paoli in his country's cause.
But now we were leaving the river, with its foaming waters and its bloody memories, over which the fine thoughtful face of Pasquale Paoli seemed to cast a humanizing influence, and were ascending the mountains under a blue sky.
Vast quantities of handsome hellebore, with large ball-like clumps of flowers, and of a species of pale green spurge (its flowers like a number of yellow caterpillars attached to the stem), grew by the roadside; ilex-trees scattered themselves up and down rocks of every form and height, above and below the road, and the mountains all round us became more and more covered with snow. Here and there were placed villages in lofty and commanding situations; one especially, named Suaria, which was perched just above us on a conical green hill rising from the road-side. The village was partially hidden by firs and ilexes crowning this pretty eminence; but the high four-storied campanile of Suaria Church stood out, white and imposing, above their sheltering branches. Very cold and frosty was the wind, notwithstanding the brilliant sun, as we reached the summit of the pass; but the view of mountain scenery spread out beneath us was magnificent.
And now we began our descent through many a tree-covered hill, towards Corte, its high, red-tiled houses visible miles before we reached it. Corte, the central inland town of Corsica, is, after Bastia and Ajaccio, the largest town in the island, and has a position unequalled for wild beauty.