Not till Como should I feel a man
again ...
Indeed it is a bitter thing to have to give up one's sword.
I had not the money to wait; my defeat had lowered me in purse as well
as in heart. I started off to enter by the ordinary gates - not Italy
even, but a half-Italy, the canton of the Ticino. It was very hard.
This book is not a tragedy, and I will not write at any length of such
pain. That same day, in the latter half of it, I went sullenly over
the Furka; exactly as easy a thing as going up St James' Street and
down Piccadilly. I found the same storm on its summit, but on a
highroad it was a different affair. I took no short cuts. I drank at
all the inns - at the base, half-way up, near the top, and at the top.
I told them, as the snow beat past, how I had attacked and all but
conquered the Gries that wild morning, and they took me for a liar; so
I became silent even within my own mind. I looked sullenly at the
white ground all the way. And when on the far side I had got low
enough to be rid of the snow and wind and to be in the dripping rain
again, I welcomed the rain, and let it soothe like a sodden friend my
sodden uncongenial mind.
I will not write of Hospenthal. It has an old tower, and the road to
it is straight and hideous. Much I cared for the old tower! The people
of the inn (which I chose at random) cannot have loved me much.
I will not write of the St Gothard. Get it out of a guide-book. I rose
when I felt inclined; I was delighted to find it still raining. A
dense mist above the rain gave me still greater pleasure. I had
started quite at my leisure late in the day, and I did the thing
stolidly, and my heart was like a dully-heated mass of coal or iron
because I was acknowledging defeat. You who have never taken a
straight line and held it, nor seen strange men and remote places, you
do not know what it is to have to go round by the common way.
Only in the afternoon, and on those little zig-zags which are sharper
than any other in the Alps (perhaps the road is older), something
changed.
A warm air stirred the dense mist which had mercifully cut me off from
anything but the mere road and from the contemplation of hackneyed
sights.
A hint or memory of gracious things ran in the slight breeze, the
wreaths of fog would lift a little for a few yards, and in their
clearings I thought to approach a softer and more desirable world. I
was soothed as though with caresses and when I began to see somewhat
farther and felt a vigour and fulness in the outline of the Trees, I
said to myself suddenly -
'I know what it is! It is the South, and a great part of my blood.
They may call it Switzerland still, but I know now that I am in Italy,
and this is the gate of Italy lying in groves.'
Then and on till evening I reconciled myself with misfortune, and when
I heard again at Airolo the speech of civilized men, and saw the
strong Latin eyes and straight forms of the Race after all those days
of fog and frost and German speech and the north, my eyes filled with
tears and I was as glad as a man come home again, and I could have
kissed the ground.
The wine of Airolo and its songs, how greatly they refreshed me! To
see men with answering eyes and to find a salute returned; the noise
of careless mouths talking all together; the group at cards, and the
laughter that is proper to mankind; the straight carriage of the
women, and in all the people something erect and noble as though
indeed they possessed the earth. I made a meal there, talking to all
my companions left and right in a new speech of my own, which was made
up, as it were, of the essence of all the Latin tongues, saying -
_'Ha! Si jo a traversa li montagna no erat facile! Nenni! II san
Gottardo? Nil est! pooh! poco! Ma hesterna jo ha voulu traversar in
Val Bavona, e credi non ritornar, namfredo, fredo erat in alto! La
tourmente ma prise...'_
And so forth, explaining all fully with gestures, exaggerating,
emphasizing, and acting the whole matter, so that they understood me
without much error. But I found it more difficult to understand them,
because they had a regular formed language with terminations and
special words.
It went to my heart to offer them no wine, but a thought was in me of
which you shall soon hear more. My money was running low, and the
chief anxiety of a civilized man was spreading over my mind like the
shadow of a cloud over a field of corn in summer. They gave me a
number of 'good-nights', and at parting I could not forbear from
boasting that I was a pilgrim on my way to Rome. This they repeated
one to another, and one man told me that the next good halting-place
was a town called Faido, three hours down the road. He held up three
fingers to explain, and that was the last intercourse I had with the
Airolans, for at once I took the road.
I glanced up the dark ravine which I should have descended had I
crossed the Nufenen.
