Certain Americans, He Said, Obtained Permission Not
Long Ago From The Proprietor Of The Ground On Which The Temple Stood
To make serious excavations, but as soon as the Italians heard of
it, they claimed the site as a national
Monument; the work was
forbidden, and the soil had to be returned to its former state. Hard
by the ancient sanctuary is a chapel, consecrated to the Madonna del
Capo; thither the people of Cotrone make pilgrimages, and hold upon
the Cape a rude festival, which often ends in orgiastic riot.
All the surface of the promontory is bare; not a tree, not a bush,
save for a little wooded hollow called Fossa del Lupo - the wolf's
den. There, says legend, armed folk of Cotrone used to lie in wait
to attack the corsairs who occasionally landed for water.
When I led him to talk of Cotrone and its people, the Doctor could
but confirm my observations. He contrasted the present with the
past; this fever-stricken and waterless village with the great city
which was called the healthiest in the world. In his opinion the
physical change had resulted from the destruction of forests, which
brought with it a diminution of the rainfall. "At Cotrone," he said,
"we have practically no rain. A shower now and then, but never a
wholesome downpour." He had no doubt that, in ancient times, all the
hills of the coast were wooded, as Sila still is, and all the rivers
abundantly supplied with water. To-day there was scarce a healthy
man in Cotrone: no one had strength to resist a serious illness.
This state of things he took very philosophically; I noticed once
more the frankly mediaeval spirit in which he regarded the populace.
Talking on, he interested me by enlarging upon the difference
between southern Italians and those of the north. Beyond Rome a
Calabrian never cared to go; he found himself in a foreign country,
where his tongue betrayed him, and where his manners were too
noticeably at variance with those prevailing. Italian unity, I am
sure, meant little to the good Doctor, and appealed but coldly to
his imagination.
I declared to him at length that I could endure no longer this
dreary life of the sick-room; I must get into the open air, and, if
no harm came of the experiment, I should leave for Catanzaro. "I
cannot prevent you," was the Doctor's reply, "but I am obliged to
point out that you act on your own responsibility. It is
pericoloso, it is pericolosissimo! The terrible climate of the
mountains!" However, I won his permission to leave the house, and
acted upon it that same afternoon. Shaking and palpitating, I slowly
descended the stairs to the colonnade; then, with a step like that
of an old, old man, tottered across the piazza, my object being to
reach the chemist's shop, where I wished to pay for the drugs that I
had had and for the tea. When I entered, sweat was streaming from my
forehead; I dropped into a chair, and for a minute or two could do
nothing but recover nerve and breath. Never in my life had I
suffered such a wretched sense of feebleness. The pharmacist looked
at me with gravely compassionate eyes; when I told him I was the
Englishman who had been ill, and that I wanted to leave to-morrow
for Catanzaro, his compassion indulged itself more freely, and I
could see quite well that he thought my plan of travel visionary.
True, he said, the climate of Cotrone was trying to a stranger. He
understood my desire to get away; but - Catanzaro! Was I aware that
at Catanzaro I should suddenly find myself in a season of most
rigorous winter? And the winds! One needed to be very strong even to
stand on one's feet at Catanzaro. For all this I returned thanks,
and, having paid my bill, tottered back to the Concordia. It
seemed to me more than doubtful whether I should start on the
morrow.
That evening I tried to dine. Don Ferdinando entered as usual, and
sat mute through his unchanging meal; the grumbler grumbled and ate,
as perchance he does to this day. I forced myself to believe that
the food had a savour for me, and that the wine did not taste of
drugs. As I sat over my pretended meal, I heard the sirocco moaning
without, and at times a splash of rain against the window. Near me,
two military men were exchanging severe comments on Calabria and its
people. "Che paese!" - "What a country!" exclaimed one of them
finally in disgust. Of course they came from the north, and I
thought that their conversation was not likely to knit closer the
bond between the extremes of Italy.
To my delight I looked forth next morning on a sunny and calm sky,
such as I had not seen during all my stay at Cotrone. I felt better,
and decided to leave for Catanzaro by train in the early afternoon.
Shaking still, but heartened by the sunshine, I took a short walk,
and looked for the last time at the Lacinian promontory. On my way
back I passed a little building from which sounded an astonishing
noise, a confused babble of shrill voices, blending now and then
with a deep stentorian shout. It was the communal school - not
during playtime, or in a state of revolt, but evidently engaged as
usual upon its studies. The school-house was small, but the volume
of clamour that issued from it would have done credit to two or
three hundred children in unrestrained uproariousness. Curiosity
held me listening for ten minutes; the tumult underwent no change of
character, nor suffered the least abatement; the mature voice
occasionally heard above it struck a cheery note, by no means one of
impatience or stern command. Had I been physically capable of any
effort, I should have tried to view that educational scene.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 24 of 40
Words from 23438 to 24439
of 40398
