CHAPTER XIX.
JOURS DE FÊTE AT AJACCIO.
The 10th, 11th, and 12th of May were grand days at Ajaccio; regattas going on the first two days, and horse races on the third. For some days beforehand preparations were being made, triumphal arches put up, and posts hung with Chinese lanterns. For once, the Corsican natives seemed to wake up, and an unwonted number of men were to be seen, in their excitement standing upright, instead of lounging before their doors or lying asleep upon the quay.
Saturday, the first day of the regatta, was rather a failure, owing to the weather. It was a gloomy chilly day, raining a good deal in the morning.
In the afternoon, however, it cleared up partially, and we strolled out under a grey sky towards the harbour. The Agincourt lay in the offing, sent by the English Government as a compliment to the French; and also a large American vessel, as well as some handsome steamers.
Leaving the crowd upon the quay, we climbed out upon the masses of great white stone, which just now constitute the remains of the pier. It shows the force of the waves, even here in this sheltered corner of the bay, that, a few months ago, during a sudden storm, these enormous masses were broken up and thrown one upon another by the furious waters, like wooden blocks heaped up by a child.
It was exciting work climbing upon these blocks, and looking down upon the bright emerald water and white surface rolling under our feet, or playing at catch-me-who-can with the advancing and retreating waves; but, as far as the regatta went, the scene was as dull and unenlivening as possible; and two or three sailing vessels appeared to represent the competitors. Half an hour of this was quite sufficient, and we returned to our hotel, feeling that foreign regattas were just as much a slow and stupid pastime as they usually are in England.
The next day's proceedings, however, were much livelier.
We did not care to see more of the marine amusements, so, after morning church, spent the afternoon in a lovely drive, reserving the evening for dissipation.
At this time of the year the season is over, and the pretty little English church, raised during the last few years through the personal energy and generosity of a Scotch lady, is usually closed. This it had been for two or three Sundays before our arrival, since the chaplain had departed; but this Sunday we had the unusual good fortune of a choice between two services—one on board the Agincourt, to which the officers kindly invited us, and one in the little church itself.
With a strong desire to attend both at the same time, we finally decided on the church at our gates, feeling it a duty not to lessen the small congregation expected there, and perhaps a little comforted by the heavy swell that reigned in the bay, and which might possibly affect the deck of the Agincourt.