The Manuscript Found in Saragossa (13 page)

BOOK: The Manuscript Found in Saragossa
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For my part I was delighted, since my new profession seemed to me more noble than cleaning chimneys. I kissed my father and brothers goodbye and cheerfully set off with Lettereo to join his ship. When we had boarded her the padron called together his crew, which numbered twenty men all similar in appearance to him. He introduced me to these gentlemen and said to them, ‘Anime managie, quista criadura e lu filiu de Zotu. Se uno de vui a outri li mette la mano sopra is li mangio l'anima.'
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This speech had the intended effect. It was even decided that I should mess together with the others, but I saw that two ship's boys of my age served the sailors and ate the leftovers, so I did the same. This they accepted and they liked me the better for it. But when they saw how I climbed the lateen yard they all were quick to congratulate me. The lateen yard on lateen-rigged boats takes the place of the main yard; but it is much less dangerous to perch on main yards because they are always in the horizontal position.

We set sail and on the third day we reached the straits of S. Bonifacio, which separate Sardinia and Corsica. There were more than sixty boats there fishing for coral. We also started to fish, or
rather pretended to. But I personally learned a great deal, for after four days there I could swim and dive as well as the boldest of my companions.

After a week the little fleet was scattered by a gregale – that is what the stiff north-easterly wind is known as in the Mediterranean. Each boat made for safety as best it could. We reached an anchorage known as the Roads of St Peter, which is a deserted beach on the Sardinian coast. There we came across a Venetian polacca which seemed to have suffered a great deal of damage during the storm. Our padron at once had designs on the boat and dropped anchor close to it. He sent part of the crew down to the hold so as to make it appear that few men were on board. This was a more or less pointless precaution since lateen-rigged boats always had more men than others.

Lettereo kept a close watch on the Venetian crew and established that it was composed of no more than a captain, a mate, six sailors and a boy. He also noticed that the topsail was torn and had been taken down to be mended since merchant ships never carry spare sails. Having gathered this information, he put eight guns and as many sailors in the longboat, hid them under a tarpaulin and settled down to wait for the right moment.

When the weather improved the sailors duly climbed the topmast to unfurl the sail, but as they did not set about this in the right way, the mate, followed by the captain, climbed up too. Lettereo then had the ship's boat lowered, stealthily embarked with seven other sailors and boarded the stern of the polacca, whose captain shouted down from the mainsail, ‘A larga ladron, a larga.'
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But Lettereo aimed the gun at him and threatened to kill the first man who tried to climb down. The captain, who had the appearance of a resolute fellow, threw himself down into the shrouds, but Lettereo shot him in mid air. He fell into the water and was not seen again.

The sailors begged for mercy. Lettereo left four men to guard them and with the three others he searched the vessel. In the captain's room he found a barrel of the sort used to store olives, but as it was rather
heavy and was carefully hooped he guessed that it might contain things other than olives. He opened it and was gratified to find several bags of gold. That was enough for him and he sounded the retreat. The boarding party returned and we set sail. As we passed by the stern of the Venetian boat we shouted out mockingly, ‘Viva San Marco!'

Five days later we reached Livorno. The padron at once called on the Neapolitan consul with two of his men and made a formal declaration that his crew had picked a fight with that of the Venetian polacca and that by misfortune the captain of that ship had been pushed by a sailor and had fallen into the sea. A small part of the contents of the olive barrel were used to enhance the plausibility of this story.

Lettereo had a marked taste for piracy and would doubtless have continued to engage in similar enterprises, but at Livorno he was offered the opportunity of engaging in a different kind of trade, one that he preferred. A Jew, whose name was Nathan Levi, had noticed how much profit the pope and the King of Naples had obtained from their copper coinage and decided to share it. So he had counterfeit coins struck in an English town called Birmingham, and when there was a sufficient quantity he set up an agent in La Lariola, a fishing village on the border of the two states. Lettereo undertook to transport and unload the merchandise there.

The profits were considerable and we plied to and fro with cargoes of Roman and Neapolitan coins for more than a year. We might have been able to continue our voyages even longer but Lettereo, who had a genius for speculation, suggested to the Jew that he should produce gold and silver coinage too. Nathan Levi followed his advice and established at Livorno a small factory which produced sequins and scudi. The profits we were making aroused the jealousy of the authorities. One day when Lettereo was in Livorno and about to set sail, he was informed that Captain Pepo had been ordered by the King of Naples to seize his ship but that he was not able to put to sea until the end of that month. This false rumour was a trick on the part of Pepo, who had been at sea for four days. Lettereo fell for it. The wind was favourable. He reckoned that he could make one more journey and so set sail.

At daybreak on the next day we found ourselves in the midst of Pepo's flotilla, comprised of two galiots and two light vessels known as
scampavie
. We were surrounded, with no means of escape. With death in his heart, Lettereo broke out all sails and set a course for Pepo's vessel. Pepo was on the bridge, giving orders to board our ship.

Lettereo took a gun, took aim and hit Pepo in the arm. All this happened in a few seconds.

Soon after, the four ships bore down on us and we could hear from all sides the shout, ‘Mayna ladro, mayna can senza fede.'
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Lettereo close-hauled, with the result that our side skimmed the surface of the water. Then, addressing the crew, he said:

‘Anime managie, io in galera non ci vado. Pregate per me la santissima Madonna della Lettera.'
12

We all knelt down. Lettereo put cannon-balls into his pocket. We thought that he had decided to throw himself into the sea but the crafty pirate had other plans. There was a large barrel full of copper lashed to the windward side. Lettereo cut the ropes with an axe. At once the barrel rolled to the other side of the ship, and as the ship was already listing quite far it had the effect of capsizing it. At first the crew, who were on their knees, fell into the sails, and when the ship went down we were fortunately thrown a fair distance clear on the other side by the sails' elasticity.

Pepo fished us all out of the sea with the exception of the captain, a sailor and a ship's boy. As we were hauled aboard, we were tied up and thrown into Pepo's hold. We put into Messina four days later. Pepo let the authorities know that he had some objects worthy of their attention to deliver to them. Our disembarkation did not lack a certain pomp. It happened to be at the time of the Corso when all the nobility walk up and down what is known as La Marina. We' solemnly processed along, with
sbiri
behind us and
sbiri
in front of us.

The principino was among the spectators and recognized me as
soon as he saw me, crying out, ‘Ecco lo picolu banditu delli Augustini.'
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As he did this, he leapt at me and grabbed me by the hair and scratched my face. Since my hands were tied behind my back, I had difficulty in defending myself.

However, I remembered a trick I had seen done on some English sailors at Livorno. I freed my head and butted the principino in the stomach. He fell over backwards, got up boiling with rage, drew a little knife from his pocket and tried to strike me with it. I dodged and tripped him up, causing him to fall heavily, and even to cut himself on the knife he was holding. The princess arrived on the scene at this moment, and again wanted to have me beaten by her servants, but the
sbiri
would not allow this and led us off to prison.

The trial of the crew did not take long. The sailors were sentenced to the
strappado
and then to spend the rest of their days in the galleys. As for me and the other ship's boy who had survived, we were set free because we were under age. As soon as we were released, I went to the Augustinian monastery but found that my father was no longer there. The brother porter told me that he had died and that my brothers were cabin-boys on a Spanish ship. I asked to speak to the prior. I was taken to him and I told him my little story, not forgetting to mention the head-butt, and the tripping up of the principino.

His Reverence listened to me kindly and said, ‘My son, your father left a considerable sum of money to the monastery on his death. It was ill-gotten gains to which you had no right. It is now in the hands of God and is destined to be used to provide for his servants. However, we have ventured to set aside a few gold pieces which we gave to the Spanish captain who was taking charge of your brothers. As for you, we are unable to give you sanctuary in this house out of respect for la Principessa de Rocca Fiorita, who is our illustrious benefactress. But, my child, you can go to the farm that we have at the foot of Mount Etna, where you can quietly spend your childhood years.'

After these words the prior sent for a lay brother and gave instructions concerning my future.

The next day I set out with the lay brother. We arrived at the farm, where I settled down. From time to time I was sent to town on errands which had to do with the running of the farm. On these trips I did all that I could to avoid the principino. One time, however, as I was buying chestnuts in the street, he happened to pass, recognized me and had me beaten by his lackeys. Soon after, I gained access to his house by means of a disguise and it would probably have been easy for me to kill him. I will never cease to regret not having done so, but I was not then familiar with such procedures and I was content to do no more than thrash him. Throughout my early years, six months did not pass, nor even four, without my meeting that damned principino, who often had the advantage of numbers over me. At last I reached the age of fifteen, still a boy in years and in reason, but almost a man in strength and courage, which is hardly surprising when you think of the sea air and then the mountain air which strengthened my constitution.

So I was fifteen when I first met the brave and worthy Testalunga, the most honourable and virtuous bandit there has ever been in Sicily. Tomorrow, if you will allow me, I will tell you all about this man whose memory will live on for ever in my heart, but now I must leave you. The management of my cavern requires careful supervision to which I must now devote myself.

Zoto left us, and we all discussed his story in ways which reflected our own characters. I confessed that I could not but feel some respect for men as courageous as Zoto described them. Emina maintained that courage is only worthy of our esteem if it is put to ends which bring virtue into good repute. Zubeida said that a little bandit of sixteen years of age was certainly capable of inspiring love.

We had supper and made our way to bed. The two sisters came to me again, catching me unawares.

Emina said to me, ‘Dear Alphonse, would you be able to make a sacrifice for us? It is in your interest more than in ours.'

‘Fair cousin,' I replied, ‘these preambles are quite unnecessary. Tell me simply what you want.'

‘Dear Alphonse,' said Emina, ‘we are shocked, even horrified, by the jewel which you carry round your neck and which you call a piece of the true cross.'

‘Oh no, as to that jewel, don't ask me for it,' I promptly replied. ‘I promised my mother that I would never be parted from it and I keep my promises, as you very well know.'

My cousins remained silent and sulked a little, but they were soon mollified and that night was spent in much the same way as the night before, which is to say that their belts were left in place.

The Seventh Day

The next morning I woke earlier than the day before and went to see my cousins. Emina was reading the Koran, Zubeida was trying on some pearls and jewels. I interrupted these serious occupations with gentle caresses which were almost as much caresses of friendship as of love. Then we dined. After our meal Zoto came back to continue his story, which he did as follows:

   ZOTO'S STORY CONTINUED   

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