Legends of Italy by Karen Lefler
While traveling through Italy, I found the stories and legends to be the most fascinating aspect of the trip. These legends abounded wherever we went and in many cases the natives were only too happy to share their stories and traditions with us. In the following paragraphs I intend to share some of these with you, the reader, in the hopes that you will get a feel for the Italy I came to love.
The first legend I came in contact with was before I ever left home, the commemoration of Maria Befana. A precursor to our modern day Santa Clause, Maria Befana was believed to be a witch who rode her broomstick bringing stockings filled with candy for the good children.
On January 5 each year this tradition is still celebrated. In the marketplaces merchants sell likenesses of Maria Befana, ornaments and stockings. At night children hang their stockings at bedtime, hoping to awaken to find them filled with treats.
Having read Edith Wharton’s story “Roman Fever”, and Henry James’s “Daisy Miller: a Study,” I walked around the grounds of the Coliseum knowing that in the past young lovers met here at night for secret trysts.
Back throughout history it is said that young women would be struck down in their prime by Roman fever, malaria, if they failed to behave according to society’s norms. The Coliseum was considered to be the most likely place to be bitten by the mosquitoes that carried the deadly disease.
While touring the Forum our guide told us the story of how Caesar was killed. We were standing on the very spot where the great man was knifed down by his political associates. The story was related with such feeling it gave me goose-bumps. We were then directed to look behind a low wall where Caesar’s funeral pyre still stood and the local people still come to lay flowers on it to honor their lost emperor.
Before entering the Pantheon you will be amazed by the enormous columns that form the pillared porch. Once inside, you’ll find yourself looking up awed at the size of the area above you, focusing to find the uncovered opening in the dome.
It is said that when it rains you will not get wet standing under the opening because the water will evaporate before it hits.
The Spanish steps were once literally Spanish, belonging to the area around the Spanish ambassador’s residence. The 137 steps were constructed from 1723 to 1725 to link the Piaza di Spangna. When the steps first opened, Romans hoping to earn extra money as artists models flocked to the steps dressed as the Madonna and Julius Caesar.
This tradition still holds today with modern artists working among the milling tourists.
My favorite legend, and site, in Rome surrounds the Trevi fountain. The fountain symbolizes the legend of how water was first brought to Rome in 19BC when Agrippa decided to build a canal. The canal was called “Aqua Virgine” meaning virgin water, because as the story goes, Agrippa’s soldiers, looking for water in the country, met a young virgin who led them to this source of pure water.
The arch of the palace of Neptune and the statue of Neptune dominate the fountain in the center, where Neptune rides in a chariot drawn by two seahorses and two tritons. The nitch on the left contains the statue of abundance with Agrippa portrayed above, approving the plans for the aqueduct. The nitch on the right contains the statue of Salubrity, above which is a relief of the virgin leading the soldiers to water.
Now it is famous for the custom or ritual that if you wish to return to Rome, you should come to the fountain on the last day of your visit, take a drink out of the rim of the fountain with your left hand, then turn and throw into the water, over your left shoulder, a coin from your native land. Today the fountain is filled with thousands of coins.
The most spiritual encounter I had in Italy occurred in the church of Santa Maria de Minerva. Inside of this beautifully stained glass Catholic Church many parishioners were lighting prayer candles. Feeling tremendously moved, I walked up to one of the many alters and lit a candle. “This one’s for you Mom,” I said. At that moment a light came through the round stained glass window high on the wall behind me and illuminated the area where I stood. A perfect bright round circle with me standing in the middle of it. I knew my mother was there with me on a trip she would have dearly loved. As I moved away from the alter to rejoin my friends, I looked back and the light began to fade away.
Ever since I had seen the movie “Roman Holiday”, I had been waiting to see the “Mouth of Truth.” Called the “Boca Della Verita,” this fascinating marble mask with a menacing mouth, might have been a Roman drain before it was moved to the courtyard of Santa Maria in Cosmedin’s Wall. It is said that the hands of liars will be cut off if placed within the mouth, hence the name. Located to the right of the mask is a very old door. As told to me by a lady standing in line, priests used to keep the superstition alive by sitting in a room located behind the face. When a person the priest felt was lying put their hand in the mouth during confession, the priest would hit their fingers with a rock.
We spent one whole day in Pompeii, exploring public buildings, private houses and shops, bars and brothels, where the occupants left evidence of their everyday lives, as well as their frantic attempts to escape the disaster.
The 79 A.D. eruption of Vesuvius was the first volcanic eruption ever to be described in detail. From 18 miles west of the volcano, Pliny the younger witnessed the eruption, in which his uncle lost his life, and recorded it for posterity:
“It was not clear from which mountain the cloud was rising, but it was like an umbrella pine… Ashes were already falling, hotter and thicker, followed by bits of pumice and blackened stones. On Mount Vesuvius broad sheets of fire and leaping flames blazed at several points… They debated whether to stay indoors or take their chance in the open, for the buildings were now shaking with violent shocks and seemed to be swaying to and fro as if they were torn from their foundations.”
It is estimated that at times during the eruption the column of ash was 20 miles tall. About one cubic mile of ash was erupted in 19 hours. Ten feet of ash fell on Pompeii, burying everything except the roofs of some buildings.
Finally, I will share with you the legend of Saint Michael’s lucky bell. “Once upon a time, a little shepherd lived at Anacapri and he was the poorest among the poor children of the place. His only wealth was a small hut, which he shared with his mother, who was a widow, and a lamb which he used to graze on the slopes of Mount Solaro.
One evening, as it was getting dark, the child lingered to pick flowers and when he turned around to call the lamb he could not see it any longer. He felt a pang of pain in his heart. What would happen now to him and his mother? At that moment he thought he heard a distant and feeble ringing of bells and, thinking it could be the sound of the bell the lamb wore around his neck, he rushed in that direction. His tiny bare feet fled careless of the pebbles, of the thistles and of the night which had already fallen… until he got to the edge of a raven.
Here a sudden flash of light stopped the poor boy: and Saint Michael appeared to him, enveloped in a golden beam of light, splendid on his white horse.
“My boy, said the Saint, detaching a small bell which hung on his chest. Take it and always follow its sound; it will keep you from all danger.”
The little shepherd, thrilled with emotion and joy, took the precious gift to his mother and the small bell came out miraculously from his shabby jacket encased in the green frame of a vivid quadruphyllous.
Since then his life was filled with joy and happiness and all of his wishes were fulfilled.”
On the spot where the apparition took place, a villa was built which was called Saint Michael, and the miraculous little bell is a native talisman of luck and success.
It took me 8 days to fall in love with Italy and her people, a love I plan to have span a lifetime.