Part I
2
A strong people with simple customs live in these mountains...
Gregorovius, “Apulische Landschaften”
THE THREE PROVINCES of Apulia are the Capitanata, the Terra di Bari and the Terra d’Òtranto, also known as the Salento – north, centre and south. In classical times the inhabitants were all known as Iapygians but were divided into three tribes – Daunians, Peucetians and Messapians. Although they were almost certainly Illyrians from the Balkans across the Adriatic, legend claims that they came from Greece in groups led by three fugitive sons of Lycaon, King of Arcadia: Daunus, Peucetius and Iapyx. Lycaon, together with fifty of his sons, had sacrificed a child (or a plate of human flesh) to Zeus, for which they had been changed into wolves. Only these three brothers escaped. Until recently, lycanthropy – belief in werewolves, men who change into wolves at night – was prevalent throughout the wilder regions here. None could be wilder than the inner Gargano.
In the extreme north of the Capitanata, the Gargano is the ‘spur” of the Italian boot, but totally different from the rest of Apulia. Since ancient times it has had a sinister name, Horace writing of fearsome north winds that strip the trees of leaves and drown men off its coast. They still blow, so curiously that winter seems to linger long after it is over. “Spring hesitates to smile upon these chill uplands” was Norman Douglas’s impression. Its woods and caves have attracted pagan deities, witches and saints, and even today the Gargano remains among the mysterious places of Italy, despite the holiday makers on its enchanting shores.
One of the Tremiti Islands long ago, it is now joined to the mainland, a great mountainous promontory about thirty-five miles by twenty-five, 3,400 feet above sea-level at its highest, that juts out into the Adriatic, with the same geological structure and configuration as those of the Dalmatian mountains. There are dense forests, mainly of chestnut, and wild, steep-sided glens, deep gullies, bleached cliffs and sandy beaches, many of which are only accessible from the sea. The western half consists of stony fields and lime-stone pavements, with pockets of good grazing in little valleys, where the grey cattle’s bells sound mournfully through the mist.
In spring, the Gargano’s limestone pavements are full of blue, white and yellow dwarf-irises, while orchids grow everywhere, cross-pollenating to an alarming degree. The sheer number of rare plants creates a botanist’s paradise in the area, where 2,000 species have been recorded. Four of these, including the charming campanula garganic, are found nowhere else in the world.
Much of the woodland described by ancient writers has disappeared, cleared for agriculture or felled for export to shipbuilders on the far side of the Adriatic. Even so, the Foresta Umbra, now managed by the state, covers 24,000 hectares; most of the trees here are beech or oak instead of chesnut, many as tall as 130 feet, so that the forest lives up to its name of “shady”. Until the 1950s it was inhabited by wild boar and wolf, but only a few wild boar remain while the wolves seem to have vanished. During the Middle Ages large areas of Apulia were covered by woodland of this sort, very unlike today’s treeless landscape.
“Whoever looks at a map of the Gargano promontory will see that it is besprinkled with Greek names of persons and places – Matthew, Mark, Nikander, Onofrius, Pirgiano (Pyrgos) and so forth”, comments Norman Douglas, “Small wonder, for these eastern regions were in touch with Constantinople from early days, and the spirit of Byzance still lingers.” In less flowery language, the Eastern Emperors were nominal rulers here till the twelfth century.
Until the 1960s funeral rites of great antiquity were observed. No one could leave the house for ten days after a relative’s death, or attend the burial, food being sent in by neighbours; men stopped shaving for a month and wore black shirts as well as suits, women wailed and tore at their faces with their nails as the coffin was taken away. At marriages a rope of handkerchiefs barred the church door, the bridegroom untying the knots.
Strange superstitions linger, such as a belief in Laùro, the mischievous Apulian Puck. As everywhere in Apulia, there is wide-spread fear of iettatura, the evil eye: a tiny piece of coral, silver or horn is worn as protection against it, while a gesture with the first and fourth finger of the right hand can avert it – but only if the iettatore sees you make it. Owls are known as ‘birds of death’, since to hear one hooting means that somebody in your family will die. An eclipse of the sun will be followed by famine or pestilence. There are countless other ill-omens, such as spilling oil. Spilling wine, however, can only bring good luck.
Even now, the people of the Gargano are credited with practising magic, often very unpleasant. Love potions based on menstrual blood are not unknown and spells are sometimes laid to harm enemies, animals being used as proxies; occasionally the hind feet of a living dog are chopped off for this purpose, the fate of a fine Alsatian encountered in San Giovanni Rotondo. It is said that some women continue to wear a dead mouse as a protection against the wiles of the Devil, hanging the mouse from their belt over the part where the Devil is most likely to enter in.
Among the supernatural gifts of Padre Pio, the great saint of modern Apulia, was that of being able to see angels and demons. He warned that the sky over San Giovanni Rotondo (where he lived) was literally black with demons. Even the most sceptical might easily suspect that they fly over many other places in the Gargano.