The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1901-04-25

| uootIoycu are uScu DIS residences ana
| storehouses.
Another tower of altogether different
aspect, and in ruinous condition, crowns
the summit of an enormous rock above
the Luri valley. 1t is called La tour
de Seneque" and is believed to have
been the habitation of Seneca during
his years of exile on the island. You
remember that he was banished from
Rome on suspicious of undue intimacy
with Julia, the profigate daughter of
Agrippina. Not far from it is an an
Gent Capuchin convent, yet occupied
by monks; and little farther on is the
profitable English antimony mine,
known as Luri CASTILLO. The little
Luri valley is well worth visiting. 1t
is one luxuriant garden, celebrated for
its wines and densely shaded with olive
trees. A river runs through it, and
along its banks are half dozen tiny
villages. In this journey around Cape
! Corso a good deal of the way is on a
cornice road overhanging the Medi-
terranean; and you may easily imagine
the views of surprising beauty. The
, islands of Elba and Capraja are in plain
sight; and even Monte Christie, when
the weather is clear. Near the culmi-
mating point of Cape Corso, marked by
cluster of ancient towers and large
convent of Benedictine nuns, is the
| Grotto of Brando, which you should
visit-though it requires another day
and the hospitality of the nuns A
| wonderful stalactite cave runs deep into
the mountain in the form of series of
narrow galleries, revealing strange and
unexpected beauties at every step.
Many of the stalactites are translucent
and the light shining through them
produces marvellous effects. The at
PENDANTS in charge Of the grotto light
it up with candles, and the fee is two
francs for each person who enters.
Indeed, SO charming is the ride around
Cape Corso that one wishes it could
last forever. Here long stretch of
road, en- cOrnice, in mid-air; there a
cluster of romantic towers-built by
whom, and for what purpose? Anon
ruined citadel, clinging to the
perpendicular sides of a cliff, the
approach to it up rugged path
way hewn out of solid granite; and
all around it clusters an ancient village,
leo 6icnocn6 thnf at
all the inhabitants could flee for safe
ty to the central tower. Whatever
the former inhabitants of this PENN
sula may have been, those of today are
remarkably peaceable and Industrious
for Corsicans. They seem to have been
of migratory disposition, for in almost
every case, the best houses are pointed
out as belonging to "Americans -
meaning people who went to seek their
fortunes in the New World, usually in
Porto Rico; where they worked on the
they consider competence, returned
to end their days in comfort on their
beloved island.
The journey down the eastern coast
of Corsica, to Bonifazio, on its southern
extremity, is not unmitigated delight;
but the good traveller is Of course pre-
pared to take some bitter with his
sweets. The town of Bonifazio stands
sixty metres above the narrow strait of
the same name which separates this
island from Sardinis The strip of
beach between the sea and the olive
covered hills, called the Marina" is
occupied exclusively by fishermen and
other seafaring people, and is strongly
protected, not only by the ancient for
tifcations but, by modern works armed
with heavy artillery. In front is
small, perfectly land-locked harbor, so
narrow at its entrance that it was
| closed with chains by Alfonso of Ara
gon The ascent to the town is by a
winding road mounting the Isthmus
which connects the rock on which it
stands with the mainland; and the only
entrance to it is through an ancient
gate which still bears the arms Of the
Bank of Genoa,-St. George and his
lion. Nothing can exceed the pictures
que beauty of this ancient fortress, or
the view from its ramparts of nearby
Sardinia and innumerable smaller is
lands on both sides of the Strait. Why,
oh why, do people of money and leisure
stick to their little insipid round of
fashionable resorts, year after year,
when the world holds such beautiful
places as this, so easy of access, too?
Bonifazio town is a labyrinth of
crooked streets, rising in wide stone
steps. The houses are very tall and
gloomy, entered by quaint, steep stairs
that are almost like ladders. The
whole has a sort of dilapidated Moor
ish appearance, heightened by the Sc
clusion i'll which women live. They
seem to pass as idle and useless lives as
the beauties of the harem, only these
are not yelled, and lounge all day at the
half-opened easements. Perhaps, like
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