stimulate the zeal of the friends to advance their ransoms.
The payment of a yearly sum to secure immunity against brigandage is not uncommon even in parts of Italy far more favourably circumstanced as regards law and order than the provinces of the South. An instance of this occurs to me which was related by a friend of my own, and which came under his own experience. He was invited to shoot at the château of an Italian nobleman near St. Stephano, and having one day strayed from his companions, he wandered for hours through the mountains unable to discover his road. In a very wild and lonesome glen he found himself suddenly confronted by a man armed to the teeth, and evidently a brigand, who demanded why he was there: and almost without waiting for an answer told him to give up his arms. My friend demurred, and falling back a pace, cocked his gun and prepared to fire. The other, unmoved by the act, said, “Did you not say you were at ’s?” “Yes,” said my friend, “I have been his guest for the last ten days.” “Put down your piece, then,” said the robber; “you have nothing to fear from me or mine. The Count is a gran’ Galantuomo, who pays honourably, and deserves all our respect.” The brigand not only acted as guide to the stranger, but showed him as he went some capital sport, and contributed more than one woodcock to his bag.
This occurred in the Tuscan Maremma, and within the last couple of years.
If such courtesies—and I believe them to be not unfrequent—are creditable enough to the individual, they are anything but hopeful as regards the prospects of suppressing brigandage, since it is not amidst the merely debased and degraded elements of the population it finds its followers, but amongst men who are really not lost to a sense of honour, nor destitute of many good and commendable traits. A brigand is very commonly regarded as one in rebellion against the State, and no more—a man who has not given in his “adhesion” to the laws which regulate property, but not of necessity cruel or merciless. Brigands, too, have been known to carry a high head. Antonelli—a great name!—ruled the whole territory of Chieti, and was treated by Joseph Buonaparte on such terms as are supposed to imply equality between the “high contracting parties.” The French General of Brigade Merlin, and Baron Nolli, afterwards Minister of Finance, were accredited to him as envoys. They were received by Antonelli a few miles outside Chieti, and re-entered the city together in a sort of triumphal fashion, to the amazement of the whole population. Part of the conditions for which he stipulated were the rank and title of colonel; and these, and the uniform and epaulettes of the “grade,” were transmitted in due form!
If brigandage does not exactly occupy the same exalted position now as then, it is not assuredly that its influences are less felt, or its exactions less onerous. The newspapers of Italy daily record the achievements of men who certainly set little store by their lives, and who, if only to be judged by their daring, are in no way inferior to the followers of Garibaldi. That this pestilence constitutes the greatest pest of the Peninsula, none can doubt, nor has Italy yet found the statesman who is able to deal with it.
OUR SALT-CELLARS.
When the Grecian hero descended to hell and consulted the shade of Teiresias about his homeward voyage, he was told he would have to visit men who knew nothing of the sea, and who did not even eat their food with salt. The geographers make futile guesses at this country, which is not very wonderful, considering the mythical atmosphere surrounding it. Perhaps the Austrian exploring ship Novara, has just solved the difficulty. It visited the Nicobar islands in the Indian Ocean, and there found a race of men who make no use of salt with their food, though amongst other peculiarities they are extravagantly fond of Epsom salts. However this may be, the Homeric allusion is valuable as pointing out that the ancient world obtained their salt chiefly by evaporation; a fact which we know from other authorities was really the case. Until comparatively late years we ourselves were dependent on this primitive process for our supply of salt. Indeed, the Staffordshire salt-mines were not discovered till the year 1670; and only the other day we noticed in a maritime village church of Devonshire a tablet to a “parish salt officer,” who had departed this life early in the present century. But at the present time our consumption of salt is mainly supplied by the great Triassic deposits of the Cheshire and Worcester salt-mines. Here are the salt-cellars of England. From 160,000 to 170,000 tons of prepared salt, on an average, are now annually furnished by them.
We intend to invite the reader to descend one of these mines with us at Northwich. First, however, let us make a few observations on salt itself, by way of seasoning our narrative. The word “salary,” (money given to purchase salt), which has floated down the stream of time, bears witness in itself to salt being considered the first necessary of human life. Sitting above or below the salt-cellar was the usual demarcation between the high-born and the dependent in the domestic life of the middle ages. In Eastern hospitality, eating salt with you constitutes all the difference between a friend and a foe. Bearing these facts in mind, then, and looking to the antiseptic qualities of salt, we steadily refuse to pay any attention to that common puff “salt, the forbidden food.” It has too close a resemblance to a Swedenborgian dogma or a waif from Cloud-cuckoo town.
For a great wonder, July was radiant with smiles when we started from Manchester to picnic at the salt-mine in question. An omnibus and four conveyed the merry party to the scene of operations; chaperones and elders being inside, while juniors disported themselves on the top. Long were it to tell how the mischievous poked fun at each other, or affixed paper scrolls to the unconscious collars of their neighbours. The usual tricks fresh air induces on the top of a carriage, which may be seen so excellently on the return from the Derby, were successfully played.