Chit-Chat; Nirvana; The Searchlight Part 34

"With his force, in which was the remnant of The White Company, he returned to the palace, where a fierce contest waged for its possession.

Our opponents were vanquished and driven beyond the city walls or found safety by hiding within the city.

"Order was restored and for the first time in many months the city was quiet. Michael gave to the city a just and, for the time, a peaceful administration of three years. While he rescued the city from the lowest plebeians, his administration was artisan-controlled and governed. The signory was made up of nine members, of which the superior trades furnished four and the inferior trades five members.

"Shortly after restoration of order and reorganization new factions were organized between the artificers on the one side, called the plebeians, and the n.o.bles and church on the other, called the popular party.

"It was discovered that certain members of the popular party were in conspiracy with Gianozzo da Salerno of Bologna, who had been prevailed upon to undertake the conquest of the city.

"Piero and Carlo were accused of connection with this conspiracy and Sir John Hawkwood, Toma.s.so Strozzi and Benedetto Alberti, with a strong force, prepared to resist this invasion.

"Piero was executed. Subsequently Giorgio Scali and Toma.s.so Strozzi made themselves offensive to the government. Toma.s.so fled, but Giorgio was made prisoner and beheaded.

"Beginning with this, one disorder followed another in the political struggles between the plebeians and the popular party and the major and minor trades.

"After many balias had been appointed for the reformation of the government and there had been two general a.s.semblies of the people, a new government was formed, controlled by the opposition. They recalled all people banished by Sylvestro. All who had acquired office by the balia of 1378 were deposed. The Guelphs were restored to power and the plebeians and trades deposed. Michael di Lando and Lorenzo di Puccio were banished. The good they had done and the services they had rendered were quickly forgotten."

The boss carpenter, after more than an hour's steady talking, stirred and groaned; he opened his eyes and sat up saying;

"I have been dreaming of labor unions and fighting. I believe I will walk to Winchester, as I am expected to talk to some friends at a meeting tonight."

[Ill.u.s.tration: A Chiseled Cavern and Italian Battery, Front Line 7th Army; Dolomite Peaks, Italian Alps, Alt.i.tude 8,000 Feet.]

THE SEARCHLIGHT.

In the summer of 1918, I visited an Italian army hospital at Edelo. On one of the small white beds was a young soldier, horribly mangled by a bomb dropped from an Austrian airplane.

I learned that he had lived seven years in New York, having been carried there by his father when a boy of fourteen. When Italy entered the war, he returned to his native land and volunteered his services. At the time he was wounded he was operating a portable searchlight.

He was near death and, in unconscious monotone, spoke in English:

"A year ago it looked mighty blue; we were on the run at Caparetto. Now it looks as though we might win the war within the year. Things are mighty quiet with the enemy. I have not seen an Austrian plane for more than a week.

"I do love this old searchlight. How it makes the ice and snow of the mountain tops shine out in the night. When things are quiet like tonight I turn the light way down into the valley upon the house in the olive grove where Marcella lives.

"She has said her prayers and lies asleep; and I, ten kilometers distant, flash the light upon her shutters. It seems I might walk upon the beam as upon a bridge of silver to her very door.

"My G.o.d! Is the war to last forever? Is she to live on macaroni and chestnuts and break rock upon the road in sun and rain and snow, summer and winter, until she dies? Am I to stay up here within sight of her house but never within reach of her arms? When can we ever marry? On my pay it would take a thousand years to save a decent fee for the priest.

Mother of G.o.d, be good to her!

"Let's take a look at those poor devils up there in that h.e.l.l of ice. No wonder our great poet pictures a section of h.e.l.l as such a place. They can have no fire and must sleep with the dogs to keep warm. It looks grand in the light; but it is the grandeur of eternal winter, and eternal winter is death. It is a lonely beautiful region ten thousand feet above the sea. G.o.d and those boys alone will ever know the heart-bursting strain of placing their big guns, which were raised a few feet, day by day. What a land to live and fight and die in. The chasms, the sliding snow and the Austrians each demand and receive toll. Are the dug-outs and trenches and tunnels, in solid ice and rock, lonely places for those boys from Naples and Palermo? When they look at the dolomite peaks which, too pointed to give the snow bedding, stick out from under the white spread of the mountain tops like big black horns, do they long for the azure sea and lemon groves? No wonder they call the peaks the 'Horns of The Old One'; or that when my light falls upon them I think of ebon fangs protruding from white guns, and call the place 'The Mouth of h.e.l.l.' If those boys but show their heads above the crest the awful silence is broken by the roar of guns. What a life! Always under potential fire and for three years within range of the deadly machine gun and hand-grenade.

"There seems little use for this searchlight tonight. The Austrians, if it be possible, are even more weary of the war, more discouraged and worse off than we. There's nothing doing; no airplane hovers above like a great hawk to be plucked out of the darkness and clothed in lucent raiment for destruction by my arrows of light.

"I will turn it down into the valley again. May it be a precursor of where I shall soon go. There's the house and her shutters and to the right on the spur of the Cima della Granite in the chestnut grove, the old church. How the gold cross on the spire stands out!

"Sometimes at night the light catches the spire so I see only the cross of gold. Then the thought comes that all there is in life for the poor, or me, or any one, is the cross; and that my lot may not be so bad, even though I die here, the death of a man for men.

"Since Christ had none to comfort him upon the cross, why should I have so much comfort here? Is it not enough to have the bar of light and the cross of gold! Can not I reach out along the bar towards the cross and say; 'Into thy hands, Father, I commend my spirit?'

"When the night is dark and still I flash the bar of light from this high point down the valley and I say; 'It is the eye of G.o.d, the shepherd, searching for a lost lamb.' And, in order that the sheep may know the way into the fold, I flash the light upon the door of the church and then slowly let it climb the spire until its rests upon the cross.

"Alone in the night, I have learned that the one great thing is light.

With the light you may find the way. I have learned that all things bright and fair are from the Father; and understand why G.o.d first said; 'Let there be light!' I can partly measure his infinite love and compa.s.sion in offering to all, even those as poor as I, who cannot buy a postage stamp, light and the cross and the resurrection. In the light of this thought may I not in faith and peace, await the life eternal?"