CHAPTER XVII.

THE CHAPEL OF ST. ANTHONY.

There are not many excursions round Ajaccio; but the Chapelle de Saint Antoine, about seven miles off, is well worth a visit.

The road winds for five or six miles among green hills and through ilex avenues to the base of the slope, where you are obliged to dismount and continue the rest of the way on foot.

It is an exceedingly rutty and bad road, although tolerably flat, and we did well in providing ourselves with a little light open carriage, drawn by a pair of energetic ponies. In this vehicle we went jolting along, more often in the air than on the cushions, and getting decidedly more exercise than would be useful or agreeable to a winter invalid.

On the way we passed two pénitenciers, or prisons, for French male culprits. Our driver informed us, with what accuracy I am not certain, that only French prisoners are confined in Corsica, and that Corsican delinquents are sent to the Continent to work out their time. It was found that, with the facilities of the universal maquis, and the deeply rooted sympathies of their own countrymen and women, escape for these latter became too easy and too frequent in their own country.

I fear, in that case, the poor Corsican has made a bad exchange. These Ajaccio pénitenciers have a very modified prison air, and are apparently much less stern in discipline than the Continental jails.

One of them was placed high up, some distance from the road, upon the summit of a steep hill, where the prisoners must enjoy the purest of airs and the most beautiful of views.

The other was close by the roadside. It was a large white building, with barred windows; but, in other respects, with little of a prison look about it. Only a low wall and open gates divided it from the high-road, and handsome trees shaded the surrounding courtyard.

It being Sunday when we passed, few of the men were at work; and several were standing idly in the courtyard, with a strangely independent and comfortable air. A warder was certainly with them, but he had an unobtrusive manner, and appeared to be unarmed. The men were dressed in quiet brown suits, which, to a stranger's eye, had little of the convict cut; and, but for the evil expression on some of the dark faces that scowled at us over the wall, it would have been difficult to realize the fact that these were robbers and murderers.

Fresh from a visit to Portland, with its high stony walls, its enclosed and guarded outlets, and its separate small gangs, each with an athletic warder with ever-watchful eye and loaded gun, the contrast of this French-Corsican prison, with its open portals and happy-go-lucky air of nonchalance, struck me forcibly.

Soon after passing the pénitencier, the carriage, with a final jolt, stopped at the foot of the green slope, and we got out to pursue the narrow winding track, passing among macchie-covered sand-hills, and mounting steeply towards the rocks beyond. It was hot work, for there was no shade, and the sand burnt beneath our feet, and the rocks glowed before us; but the cystus gave out a refreshing scent, and at every turn the grey walls grew taller and more rugged and imposing, as the green mounds in front cleared away.

About half-way to the chapel, we fell in with some _bergère_ women, bringing supplies to their lords upon the mountain side, from the town of Ajaccio. There were three of them, and they were certainly as rough and wild, and unfeminine-looking as the wives of the bergers are usually reported to be.

They had flung down their bundles, and were lying on the banks of cystus, playing with a dirty pack of cards, with more merriment than refinement. They favoured us with a good deal of notice as we passed; and, when No. 1 addressed a good-natured greeting to them, notwithstanding their scanty knowledge of the French language, were not slow to respond, and to pursue us with much chaff.

A few more turns brought us to the foot of the splendid rocks, and to the wide open plain, on which stands the little chapel of St. Anthony. The chapel itself is a queer little building, dirty and unpretending, the size of a small cottage, and possessing the odour of a pig-sty, with only one window and a wooden door.

Climbing on the step below this window and peering in, we saw a low, mean-looking room, with a few common wooden benches in it, and a small altar at the end, surmounted by an insignificant picture. An iron cross was placed on the west end of the little edifice, which otherwise might have been taken for a cow-shed.

Two or three hundred yards from the chapel, and just at the foot of the rocks, was a small cottage, uninviting and unclean-looking; but, saving for this, a grand solitude reigned over this most wild and picturesque spot.

The plain, or rather valley (for high hills mount guard on either side), runs some distance out towards the sea, which beats angrily at the foot of the cliffs which abruptly break its course.

The rocks facing the north are the grandest imaginable. Several hundred feet high, and composed of magnificent grey granite boulders, they rise, with jagged and serrated points, into the blue sky in two almost perpendicular ridges.

Maquis clings to the lower crags and fir-trees to the higher, and little paths, made by the sheep, and steep as ladders, wind confusingly in and out among hollowed and grotesque rocks.

Round about the cottage were two or three little gardens, fenced in with wattles to a height of six feet, to keep out the destructive goats, and giving the appearance of African kraals.

Nos. 1 and 3 were still sketching the little chapel, and No. 2 sitting upon a furze bush in silent reflection, when our card-playing friends reappeared round the corner of the sand-hills. Laying down their burdens on a knoll close beside the chapel, they proceeded to put their fingers in their mouths and give a series of shrill whistles, which echoed among the rocks.

The call was soon answered from the heights, and presently, bounding down the steep hill-side, came three of the wildest and roughest human animals of the male species it is possible to picture.

There was little doubt about the purpose of their meeting, as men and women reclined upon the grassy bank, and set to, with hearty good will, at their _al fresco_ repast, cracking noisy jokes, and retailing rapid gossip to each other.

They were rather a cut-throat looking party; and when, half an hour afterwards, No. 1, who had departed a little distance for another sketch, could not be found for some minutes, a horrid qualm, having reference to brigands, vendetta knives, and deep gorges, came over Nos. 2 and 3 with unpleasant force.

Notwithstanding the heat of the day, and the steepness of the paths, Nos. 2 and 3 determined to scale part of the rocky walls. An old man, seated in a little enclosure, like a spider in his web, and probably belonging to the cottage hard by, had apparently some insuperable objection to this proceeding, and rather startled the weak nerves of No. 3, already a little upset, by shouting after the pair in an undistinguishable patois jargon, and following them for some little distance. Their legs were younger than his, however; and as he got worsted in the chase the equanimity of No. 3 was restored.

This part of the country is said to be a favourite resort of the bandits, special advantages being offered, in the inaccessible rocks and hollow caverns, to the hardy fugitive from the law.

Some of the boulders are so entirely hollowed out as to resemble an egg-shell or a woman's hood. They must have been filled formerly with a softer substance, which, by degrees, has been worn away by rain and frost, leaving the harder coating of granite, sometimes only an inch or two thick.

As we mounted slowly up the little rocky winding path, pushing our way through thick growing shrubs, and hid from each other at every turn, one felt that nothing could well be more appropriate to the scene than the appearance, from behind any boulder, or at the entrance of any of these stony egg-shells, of a black-bearded, eagle-eyed man, gun in hand and pistol in belt. A bandit seemed the natural appendage of such surroundings; but he appeared not.

Nothing was to be seen except sky, and rock, and hill, as we gained the summit of the first ledge, and, wiping our fevered brows, sat down to rest; whilst far, far below, almost out of sight, fled and tumbled a little stream, gurgling away to the plain with a cool, inviting murmur; and from enormous distances echoed the wild calls of shepherd boys and men, far apart and far away among the rocks, sounding weird and unlike anything human across the stillness and the wide solitude.

Hurrying down again after a short rest, to see if No. 1 had, during our two hours' absence, fallen into a chasm or been kidnapped by bandits, we found her somewhat nervous at our lengthened stay, but otherwise uninjured, surrounded by a group of dark-eyed, wild-looking maidens and children, whom she had arrested in their work of gathering sticks among the maquis, and was hastily transferring with skilful pencil to her sketch-book.

These barefooted, picturesque girls evidently came from some shepherd hut buried amongst the rocky wilds around. They were an amusing mixture of shyness and merriment. At first, pulling their white handkerchiefs well over their sunburnt faces, they turned away giggling, silently refusing to be pourtrayed, without however the least understanding what the process was; but presently, becoming bolder, they consented to turn their faces towards us and make some effort at standing still. They could not, of course, speak a word of French, and their patois was so strong that they could not even understand No. 1's grammatical Italian, nor make their answers comprehensible to her. When the portraits were finished and shown to them, being the first drawing they had ever seen, they could not for some time make out the meaning of the cabalistic marks; but, when at last it was explained to them that these were intended to represent themselves, they laughed long and loudly.

But, what with bandit caves and shepherd maidens, time slipped away rapidly; and a glance at our watches suddenly showed us that it was now nearly five o'clock, dinner being at six; and we began a hasty retreat to the carriage, spurred on, over the sandy, rutty path, by the mundane reflection, that, unless we could do our seven miles in something like an hour, we stood a chance of going to bed supperless.