ABBATEMAGGIO.

Oamaru Mail, Volume XXXIX, Issue 10777, 27 May 1911, Page 1

ABBATEMAGGIO.

ACCUSER OP THE CAMORRA. ' ; '. .'... (By P. G. Jvonody.) '/ ;■ The first glimpse of Viterbo, girt by ; her marvellously preserved Lombard walls,- far- down in the valley, -burst upon: me at the .eiul oi an easy' two hotirs' motor run through the dreary, wild Roman. Campagna. , A surfeit of ai*t had driven nie from the Eternal City to dip into the strange drama of real lire, sordid'and'polluted; but throbbing with human interest,'that is'being ' unrolled day' by day at Viterbo. The very country' between Rome and Viterbo'seemed attunedto the spirit of Hie' Camorra trial: ; tierce and fearinspiring. The few people encountered on the wretched road looked like brigands, sinister of aspect, picturesquely rough and 1 rugged. The weitdness of it all readied a climax when at a considerable'heigh't we passed through an n/feriiai • "region of siilpliur and'' brim-stone;-a: mile or so of ••volcanic exhalations: ■ ' . . Then I 'catiie the swift'descent or som& 1600 feet into the compact city, past-the prison ' guarded by ; sbldiers- and gendarmes', through an ancient gate into the narrowest of mediaeval streets ot J!ali-deeayed palaces. At the end of it was a small market-place abuzz with life and the chatter of - many excited tongues and ablaze with a riot of color; aii '«*tc side of the sfpi'aire the luyids'dme fa V ad( of the' seventeenth-century church 'which now 'serves: as Court, of Assizes. ' ' It nil passed T-v me "like a flash"; and a moment "later I f«i-'!'d myself looking down from the tribune of the north transept " upon the amazingly strange scene. Opposite, in tile south transept, flankedi and backed by earabinicri and • officers, rose the famous iron cage with its four rows of prisoners; beside it, and a- little forward the, smaller, now emptv, cage reserved:to 1 the accuser; where the high altar stood af yore, the judicial bench presided over by the bearded judge; in the transept below mo th'<* ' jury ; and 'in r the nave, first the desk's and benches of counsel and solicitors, and further hack the' serried ranks of the unprofessional audience. Above the velarium "stretched" across choir arid nave could be'clearly seen the 'exqnis'itolv' wrought capitals oi -he columns and tlie vaiilting of the root. On the altar steps, facing the .inkstands a smartly dressed, good-looking.

youngish man. His left foot is sliglyti\ thrust forward, a bandage protruding through tbe'slashed leather of the boot. He stands in an easy attitude, his t at arm on his back, his light arm accentruding with measured, rounded- movements the noirits of his oration. He has a pleasjint, cultured voice ; and he talks eloquently, dispassionately, suavely, with a balanced flow ot language worthy of a professional orator. ' ' , * ' ~ , "Who. is it?" I asked my neighbor ' "Why, Abbatemaggio—the accuser! So this self-possessed, gentlemanly orator was the ex-Cnmorrist, the excriminal turned King's evidence! I looked at the thirtv-six occupants of the cage—they were', with few exceptions,'like Abbatemaggio: well-dressed.

well-mahnered ir.iddle-class people, such as vou may meet' any day at any of the better restaurants in a prosperous Italian town. But for' the cage it would have been pardonable to mistake the caged murderers and thieves for 'the jurymen—and the unfortunate jurymen', who have to sacrifice their whole time for nine or ten months for 3s 4d it da"y for the accused Camorrists. 4nci Ahhatemaggio continues his fluent address. He speaks and speaks until the judge rises, mutters a Remark- -presumably adjourning the court for an interval—and leaves the church. Tlie moment he has is an outbreak of coughing and spitting. Matches are struck in every part of the building', and lawyer's, jurymen, reporters, in fact, everybody in court, be-n-in—to smoke! More surprising still, a few Pressmen leave their gallery to approach the cage and to have a friendly chat with the prisoners and with Father Vitozzi, who sits with the air of martvred innocence on a special bench in front of the cage! The buzz of voices dies down suddenly. Cigarettes and cigars are dropped on the floor. There is a great scraping ot feet as everybody in conrt rises on the reappearance of the A final outburst of throat-clearing and spitting in nave and transepts nion 3 prisoners, and audience Joining in the revolting chorus and in the two-fold desecration of church and hall of justice. Ahhatemaggio leaves liis cagei escorted by two carahimeri, and, with his wonted calmness and unconcern. resumes his oration from the ' altar-steps.

"Illustrlssimi signori giurati most illustrious gentlemen of the jury he begins, with a slight/polite bow to the jury. "There are one or two points which i have omitted this morning from my account of the sequence of events. Allow me to rectify the omission." And he continues, with never a moment's hesitation-, with never a break | in his voice. He is never melodramatic, never over-emphatic. He talks slowlj, deliberately, liko a practised orator, 'marshalling up his facts \vith the deadly surcness of incontrovertible statistics. He be a Cabinet Minister explaining some new legislative measure to a bored audience. Nothing m nis voice or gesture betrays that he is revealing v an appalling story of murder, I theft, robbery, conspiracy, crime, and vicc„of every description—that the fate of thirty-six caged depends upon his Ciceronic eloquence. Abbatemaggio talks; the prisoners in the cage listen .impassively; the Calnorra priest Vitozzi, with ah indescribable expression of inj'ured innocence on.his villainous face, sits immovable like a statue, his chin resting on his hands, which are supported by a strong stick. Once only, when the eloquent accuser has divulged a particularly incriminating incident, a wave of shrugging shoulders and other signs ol protest passes through the' cage, and :the priest, with ah ajr of almost grotesque hv,pocrisy, makes the sign of the cross and raise's. his, arms heavenwards as if to implore the Almighty's forgiveness for Abbatemaggio. Abbatemaggio sees nothing of tins nantomime. His memory is amazing. He speaks with his melodious, wellmodulated voice; .of things that happened long, long- ago; but he remembers every- apparently trivial incident, fie develops the sensational -drama hour by hour,: day by day. He has no notes, but he never contradicts himself. -He is never at. a loss for'words or facts. There is lio break in-the even flow of his polished; sentences until it ;is cut short by a sudden uproar which emanates from the lawyers' benches: a scene of wild, excitement, everybody shouting and gesticulating wildly, and apparently bullying - the judge, who, :however, does not.allow,his temper to 'be-.-ruffled. .• . -

Indeed, tlie judge and "Abbatemaggio are the ' oiily calm persons in court. The! accuser does iibt flinch for a moment Tihde¥ - the /violence; of the storm that his words ; have-.raisted. He looks Calmly" "upon "the;"; Ehquting'* lawyers, twists 'his waits for the '■ iudge fo' 'restoye' r oriler.' r : Then he continues his recital; about the doings of the Camorra -. as dispassionately as if he were lecturing before an assembly of science students:.

' 'When, do,.you rthink he, will finish ?" I asked an Italian reporter. "Chi lo sa? Ho has spoken all day long yesterday aiid, as you know, today. And' it is not likely that' ho will get through it before tb-mprro>y afternoon."' ■ ' v .. -.- •

Abbatemaggio 'was : still speaking when I left Viterbo, late ill the afternoon, for Or.victo. He seemed to me tlie real hero ; of that Strangely undramatic drama. His restrained and quiet manner had invested the unseusational proceedings with an interest far greater than the temporary excitement of turbulent scenes.