Hardly Has The Sun Disappeared Before The Lighthouse In The East Begins
To Flash.
The promontory on which it stands is called San Vito after one
of the musty saints, now almost forgotten, whose names survive along
these shores.
Stoutly this venerable one defended his ancient worship
against the radiant and victorious Madonna; nor did she dislodge him
from a certain famous sanctuary save by the questionable expedient of
adopting his name: she called herself S. M. "della Vita." That settled
it. He came from Mazzara in Sicily, whither they still carry, to his
lonely shrine, epileptics and others distraught in mind. And were I in a
discursive mood, I would endeavour to trace some connection between his
establishment here and the tarantella - between St. Vitus' dance and that
other one which cured, they say, the bite of the Tarentine spider.
But I am not inclined for such matters at present. The Cala-brian
uplands are still visible in the gathering twilight; they draw me
onwards, away from Taranto. It must be cool up there, among the firs and
beeches.
And a land, moreover, of multiple memories and interests - this Calabria.
A land of great men. In 1737 the learned Aceti was able to enumerate
over two thousand celebrated Calabrians - athletes, generals, musicians,
centenarians, inventors, martyrs, ten popes, ten kings, as well as some
sixty conspicuous women. A land of thinkers. Old Zavarroni, born in
1705, gives us a list of seven hundred Calabrian writers; and I, for
one, would not care to bring his catalogue up to date. The recently
acquired Biblioteca Calabra at Naples alone contains God knows how
many items, nearly all modern!
And who shall recount its natural attractions? Says another old writer:
"Here is all sorts of Corn, sundry Wines, and in great abundance, all
kinds of Fruits, Oyle, Hony, Wax, Saffron, Bombace, Annis and Coriander
seeds. There groweth Gum, Pitch, Turpentine and liquid Storax. In former
times it was never without Mettals, but at this present it doth much
abound, having in most parts divers sorts of Mines, as Gold, Silver,
Iron, Marble, Alabaster, Cristal, Marchesite, three sorts of white
Chaulk, Virmilion, Alume, Brimstone, and the Adamant stone, which being
in the fifth degree, draweth not Iron, and is in colour black. There
groweth hemp and flax of two sorts, the one called the male, the other
the female: there falleth Manna from heaven, truly a thing very rare;
and although there is not gathered such abundance of Silk, yet I dare
say there is not had so much in all Italy besides. There are also
bathes, both hot, luke-warm, and cold, to cure many diseases. Near the
Seaside, and likewise on the Mediterrane are goodly Gardens full of
Oringes, Citrons, and Lemons of divers sorts. It is watered with many
Rivers. There are on the hils of the Apennine, thick Woods of high
Firrs, Holms, Platanes, Oaks, where grows the white odoriferous Mushrome
which shineth in the night. Here is bred the soft stone Frigia, which
every month yields a delicate and wholesome Gum, and the stone
Aetites, by us called the stone Aquilina. In this Province there is
excellent hunting of divers creatures, as wild Hoggs, Staggs, Goats,
Hares, Foxes, Porcupines, Marmosets. There are also ravenous beasts, as
Wolves, Bears, Luzards, which are quick-sighted, and have the hinder
parts spotted with divers colours. This kind of Beast was brought from
France to Rome in the sports of Pompey the great, and Hunters
affirm this Beast to be of so frail a memory, that although he eateth
with hunger, if he chance to look back, remembreth no more his meat, and
departing searcheth for other." Who would not visit Calabria, if only on
the chance of beholding the speckled posterior of the absent-minded
Luzard?
XIII
INTO THE JUNGLE
This short plunge into the jungle was a relief, after the all-too-human
experiences of Taranto. The forest of Policoro skirts the Ionian; the
railway line cleaves it into two unequal portions, the seaward tract
being the smaller. It is bounded on the west by the river Sinnc, and I
imagine the place has not changed much since the days when Keppel Craven
explored its recesses.
Twilight reigns in this maze of tall deciduous trees. There is thick
undergrowth, too; and I measured an old lentiscus - a shrub, in
Italy - which was three metres in circumference. But the exotic feature
of the grove is its wealth of creeping vines that clamber up the trunks,
swinging from one tree-top to another, and allowing the merest threads
of sunlight to filter through their matted canopy. Policoro has the
tangled beauty of a tropical swamp. Rank odours arise from the decaying
leaves and moist earth; and once within that verdant labyrinth, you
might well fancy yourself in some primeval region of the globe, where
the foot of man has never penetrated.
Yet long ago it resounded with the din of battle and the trumpeting of
elephants - in that furious first battle between Pyrrhus and the Romans.
And here, under the very soil on which you stand, lies buried, they say,
the ancient city of Siris.
They have dug canals to drain off the moisture as much as possible, but
the ground is marshy in many places and often quite impassable,
especially in winter. None the less, winter is the time when a little
shooting is done here, chiefly wild boars and roe-deer. They are driven
down towards the sea, but only as far as the railway line. Those that
escape into the lower portions are safe for another year, as this is
never shot over but kept as a permanent preserve. I have been told that
red-deer were introduced, ut that the experiment failed; probably the
country was too not and damp. In his account of Calabria, Duret de Tavel
[Footnote: An English translation of his book appeared in 1832.]
sometimes speaks of killing the fallow-deer, an autochthonous
Tyrrhenian beast which is now extinct on the mainland in its wild state.
Nor can he be confounding it with the roe, since he mentions the two
together - for instance, in the following note from Corigliano (February,
1809), which must make the modern Calabrian's mouth water:
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