So we made three of the little congregation of fifteen, where the chaplain of the winter before last (who happened to be on a visit) read prayers; and Dr. Prothero, queen's preacher (on board a yacht in the harbour), preached a beautiful sermon on the text, "Master, we have toiled all the night, and have taken nothing." We were not even devoid of music, owing to the kind offer of a young Englishman stopping at the hotel, whose harmonium strains we all followed to the best of our fifteen abilities.
Dinner was a very merry one in the hotel that evening. About eight of the Agincourt officers, accompanied by a noble colley dog, joined our small party, and added a good deal to our sociability. In honour of them we had quite a genteel spread, and generous allowance of nuts and oranges, some of which served to seduce the Ajaccio street gamins, peering curiously in at the open window, into a condition of excitement which resulted in the well-merited reproof of cold pig, administered unseen from an upper window—and in their consequent flight.
The whole town was en fête to-night, and at eight o'clock we went out to see the fun. Fun it certainly was; the entire population out and enjoying itself noisily; but, apparently, no one rough or tipsy or disorderly.
Most of the principal buildings were illuminated; whilst the town presented quite a fairy-like appearance. Down all the principal streets, there was a continuous succession of large Chinese lanterns, hung from posts about eight feet high; and nothing could well have been prettier than this uninterrupted line of hundreds of golden balls, scarcely swaying in the still evening air.
The Hôtel de Ville, close by the quay, appeared to be the centre of excitement, and here a thousand or two of people, chiefly men, shouted and hurrahed, jostling each other good-humouredly, and without fear of pickpockets.
It was pleasant for once to see the popular apathy in abeyance.
The light which streamed from the illuminations on the houses round lit up the large open square with its seething mass of humanity into picturesque groups, showing here a black velveteened Corsican with a white kerchiefed companion, there a French soldier in bright uniform, and, further on, two grinning, good-tempered British tars, as shiningly clean and as much at their ease as they have a habit of looking all over the globe.
A little higher up, it fell, with a fainter radiance, upon Napoleon's grave features in the Place du Marché, turning the numerous fountain jets around him into rainbow arches of fairy-like tracery.
We had not been long on the quay before the shouting redoubled, and the crowd, falling back with some difficulty, made room for a procession to pass out from the Hôtel de Ville.
A tremendous tattoo was heard, and out came a band with a prodigious number of drums, every one of which was made to exert itself to the fullest extent of its parchment lungs. It was preceded by a large flag, vociferously applauded, and which, doubtless, was the national flag, and followed by a troop of soldiers bearing aloft Chinese lanterns or flaming torches fastened upon poles.