fifty-second year from the birth of my Sonâ. The inhabitants of Messina venerate this letter as much as the Neapolitans venerate the blood of St Januarius. 7 I mention this detail because a year and a halflater I said what I thought would be the last prayer of my life to the Madonna della Lettera.
Now Padron Lettereo was the captain of an armed pink which was supposedly equipped for coral fishing but was actually used for smuggling and even piracy if a good opportunity arose, which was not very often because it carried no cannon and had to take ships by surprise off deserted beaches.
All this wasâ public knowledge in Messina; Lettereo smuggled on behalf of the cityâs leading merchants. The customs officers also had a share in it. Besides, Padron Lettereo had the reputation of being very free with the
coltellade
, 8 which made an impression on those who might have liked to make trouble for him. He was indeed an impressive figure of a man. His great chest and shoulders alone would have set him apart from others. But the rest of his appearance was so singular that timid souls could not look on him without feeling a surge of fear. His deeply bronzed face was made darker still by the scorch marks of gunpowder, which had left many small scars, and his sallow skin was decorated with many strange designs. Nearly all Mediterranean sailors have themselves tattooed on their arms and chests with letters, galleys, crosses and other such decorations. Lettereo had gone further. On one cheek he had the tattoo of a crucifix, on the other a madonna. Only the top of these images was visible, the bottom being hidden by a thick beard which no razor ever touched and which scissors alone kept within certain bounds. Add to this gold earrings, a red bonnet and belt, a sleeveless jerkin, sailorâs trousers, bare arms and feet and pockets full of gold and you have an idea of what the padron looked like.
It was said that in his youth he had enjoyed the favours of ladies of the highest circles and that he was the darling of the women of his own class and the scourge of their husbands.
Finally, to complete this portrait of Lettereo, I should tell you that he had been the best friend of a man of true merit who has since acquired a reputation under the name of Captain Pepo. Pepo and Lettereo had both served with the corsairs of Malta, but whereas Pepohad then entered the service of his king, Lettereo, who cared less for honour than for money, had decided to acquire wealth in any sort of way. At the same time he had become the sworn enemy of his former comrade.
As my father had nothing else to do in his sanctuary than to tend his wound, which he no longer expected to heal completely, he was glad to converse with heroes of his own kind. That is why he befriended Lettereo, and in recommending me to him he had grounds to believe that I would not be turned down. Nor was he mistaken. Lettereo was even quite touched by such a sign of trust. He promised my father that my apprenticeship would be less harsh than that of a shipâs boy normally would be. And he assured him that as I had been a chimney sweep it would only take me two days to learn to climb the rigging.
For my part I was delighted, since my new profession seemed to me more noble than cleaning chimneys. I kissed my father and brothers goodbye and cheerfully set off with Lettereo to join his ship. When we had boarded her the padron called together his crew, which numbered twenty men all similar in appearance to him. He introduced me to these gentlemen and said to them, âAnime managie, quista criadura e lu filiu de Zotu. Se uno de vui a outri li mette la mano sopra is li mangio lâanima.â 9 This speech had the intended effect. It was even decided that I should mess together with the others, but I saw that two shipâs boys of my age served the sailors and ate the leftovers, so I did the same. This they accepted and they liked me the better for it. But when they
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