1768
THE BEDFORD WHIGS
377
fell flat on their faces, but it proved only the retreat, so we were quit for our fears.
The village we intended for (Oletta), as I have observed before, lies behind St. Fiorenzo. After crossing a pretty high mountain, we descended into a valley called the Plain of Nebbio, which traverses the island towards Isola Rossa, and may be about three miles wide. Night overtook us here, but the sides of the mountain were all in a flame from the fires at the different villages, to prevent a surprise in the night. We travelled on directed by those lights, not without apprehension of being fired upon by Corsicans as well as French. At length we arrived at the foot of the mountain on which Oletta stands, but the path we had hitherto followed became all at once impracticable, by stones, bushes, and trenches cut to obstruct an enemy's approach. Our guides, after consulting among themselves, told us it would be dangerous to attempt going any farther this way, but said they would carry us to a village on the right about four miles distant. They recommended to us the most profound silence, particularly to beware speaking a foreign language, that we might not be taken for French. We put ourselves entirely under their direction, and followed through steep and rugged paths, continually on the ascent, where ten men may keep off a hundred, and at last arrived about midnight at the village of Oletta. One of the poor fellows had kept in advance the whole way singing Corsican songs, as a notice to any of their parties who might be out. We found the village on the alert. They challenged us regularly and made us halt till they acquainted their commandant, but no sooner were we admitted and known to be "Inglesi," than they all crowded round us without distinction, men, women, children, priests, and monks, jumping upon our necks, kissing our hands, and making the strongest transports of joy. I own the scene affected me much. "The King of England," said an Abbé, resting on his piece, "is a generous prince; I always said he would not let the Corsicans be oppressed. How many ships are there at Mahon? and when do you expect the rest here?" My Lord will easily conceive that in our situation it neither would have been safe nor polite to contradict their expectations, so we replied with general professions of friendship, waiving answers to particular questions the best way we could. They told us we were lucky in not getting to Oletta, for it would certainly be attacked that night, and they further informed us that the General was come down and lay that night at Mureta about three miles off. He was immediately acquainted of our arrival, and next morning we had horses from him to bring us up. We found him at the convent of the Franciscans with several of his officers about him, and his
