The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1894-07-29
A CORSICAN INCIDENT,
TALES OF TEN TRAvETERS"* SERIES
By EDGAR l. WAKEMAN.


ship and a religion; where the warrior
instinct is drank by babes from their
mothers breasts; and where the fathers
and mothers of those yet living gave with
furious eagerness of their blood for
freedom. like the pelican which rends
her breast to rear her hungry brood it is
not strange that natures, denied the
traditional heroic expression of patriot
ism, and writhing beneath the oppression
of real and fanciod wrongs, frequently
give way to outbursts of passionate
frenzy.
The most trifiug and the most ridicu-
lous circumstance often throws whole
parishes into deadly feud. Then follows
the curse of the Corsica, the vendetta or
blood revenge This horrible custom
has caused. in less than five hundred
years, upward Of one million assassin
alton, or murders purely for revenge, IN an
island whose greatest population never
exceeds a quarter million souls
1T is still within the memory of man
when a Corsican Easter-week procession,
on its way to a roadside chapel, encount-
cred a dead ass upon the highway. The
people were angered, and the sagestano
or sexton cursed those who had so dis
honored a sacred custom.
Strife instantly arose between those
in the procession, who were from Lucci-
ana, and the folk of BorgO, as to which
parish the dead ass belonged. Arms
were seized, shots exchanged and many
suffered serious wounds. Each parish
cast the dishonor upon the other; each in
wild and murderous sortie dragged the
dead ass to the village of the other.
1.-The folk of Borgo once succeeded in
h11rling the offending the
very threshold of the church door of Luc-
ciana. Its men and women, maddened by
this indignity, stormed the village of
Borgo with fierce battle cries and deadly
volleys, VIGOROUSLY leaving the bedrag-
gled and almost shredded body of the in
nocent beast impaled upon the church
tower of the defeated village.
THE podesta or magistrate at last
caused il to be removed and buried in
peace; but peace came not to Borgo and
Lucciana. The Vendetta of the Dead
Ass RACES between their people to this
day. sViale, the Corsican poest, composed
a comic epic upon the subject after the
manner of The Stolen Pail of Bologna;
and the singing of a satirical lamento
from Wales comic epic in the little mar
ket place of Lucciana, led to the char
acteristic Corsican chain of circumstances
which am about to relate"
But a few years since the most idolized
man among the lOwlY of Corsica was one
Batista Casio. He was scarcely more
than a youth. but was an unframed
singer of marvellous sweetness and power
Some unfortunate secret chung to his
birth which deprived him of that most
priced and sacred inheritance among Cor
sicans, the love of kindred but that some
secret hand provided for his necessities
was well known, for funds were always
furnished for his keeping in the Moro
saglia national school, founded by the
lberality of the immortal CorsiCan
patriot, Pasquale Paoh. ..
Intoxicated by the plaudits of the peo-
pie, before the age OF 20 he had left the
academy and became a wandering min
strel among the villages of the island.
His life was thus care-free and trium-
plant.
He sings with clear voice like the
bird our beloved vOCeros or laments."
said the villagers from Cape Corso to
Bonifazio, land therefore he shall have
not so much as the toll of the bird for his
livelihood.
And so it was; not alone among the
lowly in their simple festas and merry
makings, but also among the rich In their
weddings, their christenings, their bur-
ials, and the eXtravagant celebrations of
their name-days.
Unconcernedly, too, was Batista for re-
quitement He sang for the very love of
song while his hatred of gain made the
people heap richer largess upon him. TAX
ing from this only enough for the barest
necessities, Batista bestowed all else upon
the poor and suffering
All cried the people in their enthusi-
Rsm, that the sainted Paol were again
among us!-the wise Pasquale, TO lead
and direct, the invincible Clement TO do
batJle, and Batista Costa to chant the
Of Then xErOu1A en- ,-ixy y,f
money flow into the treasury that we
could quickly wrest freedom and indepen-
dence from the hated t'rench!n
Batlsta was singing for the people of
Iucciana at the Easter festas His fame
had brought the islanders from long dis.
tances rounda bout. Even the shaggy
herdsmen from almost inaccessible noun
tain nights, and one or two from rival
Borgo, their hate temporarily overcome
by love of song, mingled with the exul-
tant throng.
burst of uncomfortable enthusiasm
had ended in Batsta being carried about
the village upon the shoulders of men and
women. In a mood of merriment and to
please the people who were so honorinp
him, he suddenly began singing a humor-
Gus ballad called from Wales epic, the
satiriCal lament to the ASS of Borgo
''Evvlva BatlStan' rang eCtatically from
thousand of Corsican threats. Men en-
braCed each other. Women waved their
black faldettas high in air The throng
pressed closer upon the adored singer
with evvivas and huzzas. One only grew
mad with passion and hatred.
This was Fabiano, giant goatherd of
Monte ROtondo, a winter village of Boreo.
who unnoticed had wormed and wriggled
his way into the mass of humans whose
willing shoulders formed a triumphant
platform for Batista's feet and stung
past all control by the raillery of his
townsmen, thrust his huge arm savagely
through the mass of heads. clutched the
ankle of Batista, and, hurting at him a
foul epithet, dragged him headlong to the
earth.
But the Corsican eye is quick in the in
slant of danger. Batsta saw the look
of hate in the glaring face of the giant
who had pulled him down saw that his
disengaged hand was struggling for a
knife; and the Mortified populace, which
was but then Convulsed with laughter.
saw the fash of Batsta sti-
letto as he disappeared within the sea of
heads. Then there was a moment of
awful silence al the fiesta of Lucciana. A
little sinuous crevice seemed TO part in
the throng like a curling crack in the
lava on Etnas side From its mouth a
single human ran ran with the speed of
the deer toward the mountains; for muir
der, though unprecedented and perhaps
dafRugihlg will in Corsica i'm ef.gpI ~