As In All Towns Of Southern Italy,
The Number Of Hair-Dressers Is Astonishing, And They Hang Out The
Barber's Basin - The Very Basin (Of Shining Brass And With A
Semicircle Cut Out Of The Rim) Which The Knight Of La Mancha Took As
Substitute For His Damaged Helmet.
Through the gloom of high
balconied houses, one climbs to a sunny piazza, where there are
several fine buildings;
Beyond it lies the public garden, a lovely
spot, set with alleys of acacia and groups of palm and flower-beds
and fountains; marble busts of Garibaldi, Mazzini, and Cavour gleam
among the trees. Here one looks down upon the yellow gorge of the
Crati, and sees it widen northward into a vast green plain, in which
the track of the river is soon lost. On the other side of the Crati
valley, in full view of this garden, begins the mountain region of
many-folded Sila - a noble sight at any time of the day, but most
of all when the mists of morning cling about its summits, or when
the sunset clothes its broad flanks with purple. Turn westward, and
you behold the long range which hides the Mediterranean so high and
wild from this distance, that I could scarce believe I had driven
over it.
Sila - locally the Black Mountain, because dark with climbing
forests - held my gaze through a long afternoon. From the grassy
table-land of its heights, pasturage for numberless flocks and herds
when the long snows have melted, one might look over the shore of
the Ionian Sea where Greek craftsmen built ships of timber cut upon
the mountain's side. Not so long ago it was a haunt of brigands; now
there is no risk for the rare traveller who penetrates that
wilderness; but he must needs depend upon the hospitality of
labourers and shepherds. I dream of sunny glades, never touched,
perhaps, by the foot of man since the Greek herdsman wandered there
with his sheep or goats. Somewhere on Sila rises the Neaithos (now
Neto) mentioned by Theocritus; one would like to sit by its source
in the woodland solitude, and let fancy have her way.
In these garden walks I met a group of peasants, evidently strange
to Cosenza, and wondering at all they saw. The women wore a very
striking costume: a short petticoat of scarlet, much embroidered,
and over it a blue skirt, rolled up in front and gathered in a sort
of knot behind the waist; a bodice adorned with needlework and
metal; elaborate glistening head-gear, and bare feet. The town-folk
have no peculiarity of dress. I observed among them a grave,
intelligent type of countenance, handsome and full of character,
which may be that of their brave ancestors the Bruttii. With
pleasure I saw that they behaved gently to their beasts, the mules
being. very sleek and contented-looking. There is much difference
between these people and the Neapolitans; they seem to have no
liking for noise, talk with a certain repose, and allow the stranger
to go about among them unmolested, unimportuned.
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