I have heard it said that the position of the town gives it the advantage of being both a good summer and winter residence, the climate being never too hot or too cold.
It may never be too hot, but it must undoubtedly be a very cold place in winter, from its elevation among the numerous snow mountains that surround it. This, of course, is a matter of taste. But I should doubt extremely its being in any degree healthy in summer.
I heard vague rumours of malaria whilst we were there; and I should not doubt the existence of fever in the hot weather.
I have been in a good many German, Italian, and Corsican towns; but not one of them can vie with Corte in uncleanliness. Corte, I should think, would carry off the palm in filthy pavements, and putrid odours, from any town in Europe.
It was only the beginning of June when we visited it for the second time, and yet there were certain streets, and those not insignificant ones, where it was absolutely necessary to hold one's nose and run.
As there were waste rubbish places in many of these parts, which were nothing at all but open drains, and receptacles for everything horrid that could be thrown upon them from the windows and balconies of the houses around, the objectionable odours were neither astonishing nor unaccountable.
As regards the children of Corte, they are no small drawback to the delights of the place.
The inhabitants are altogether a rough, uncivil set, far less courteous than the generality of Corsicans, and have had an evil reputation amongst strangers for many years.
It is not conducive to the enjoyment of beautiful scenery or a quiet stroll, to be surrounded down the street, and followed far into the country by a mocking, shouting horde of dancing dervishes, not content with roaring out "Inglesé! Inglesé!" with unceasing energy, but making occasional clutches at your dress or umbrella, and stopping up the public way.
The ingenious youth of Corte has one especial diversion, retained for the delectation of the stranger. This consists in holding a stout piece of cord across the road, barring the path, with the shouted intimation, "No pennies, no passage!" or, in their own words, "Sou, sou, Inglese!"