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The Leper of Aoste

Home > No. 13 > Archives

Ah! little think the gay, licentious proud,
Whom pleasure, power, and affluence surround—
Ah! little think they, while they dance along—
How many pine!—how many drink the cup
Of baleful grief!—how many shake
With all the fiercer tortures of the mind.

                                                                      —Thomson

This is to be alone, this, this is solitude.
                                                                     —Byron

The southern corner of the town of Aoste is almost a desert, and has apparently never been inhabited. It consists of cultivated fields and meadows, surrounded, on one side, by the remnant of battlements which Romans had elevated for its defense, and, on the other, by garden walls. This solitary place is able, nevertheless, to excite the interest of travelers. Near the gates of the town are the ruins of an ancient castle, in which, according to a popular tradition of the fifteenth century, a Count René de Chalans, driven by the fury of his jealousy, imprisoned by his wife, the Princess Maria Braganza, to die of want; an event, from which it has since been called "Bramafan," or cry of hunger, by the peasants of the neighborhood. This anecdote, of which the authenticity may be however suspected, renders these ruins an object of lively interest to those who unite sensibility to a belief in the truth of the story. A little farther is a town square, leaning against an old wall, and built with the marble that once covered it: It is called the "frightful tower." The people for a long time believed that it was haunted. Old women in Aoste remember distinctly having seen, on many a dark night, a tall white female issuing from this tower, holding a burning lamp.

About fifteen years since, this tower was repaired, by order of the government, and surrounded with a circular wall, to serve as the dwelling of a Leper, who was, by this means, to be separated from all intercourse, without depriving him, however, of the enjoyment, of which his sad destiny was susceptible. The Hospital of Saint Maurice was charged with providing for him the means of subsistence; and he received, besides, furniture and the necessary implements for the culture of a garden. There he lived for a long time, abandoned to himself, and seeing no other persons than the clergyman, who sometimes brought him the comforts of religion, and the man who brought him food every week from the Hospital. During the war in the Alps, in 1797, an officer, who was in garrison at Aoste, passed one day accidentally by the garden of the Leper, and finding it open, was curious enough to enter. He saw a man simply dressed, leaning against a tree, and apparently lost in deep meditation. Starting at the sound of the stranger's steps, he exclaimed, without moving or looking at him, in a melancholy tone, "Who is there, and what do you wish?"

"Pardon a stranger," replied the officer, "whom the pleasant aspect of your garden has perhaps led to be intrusive, but who certainly did not intend to trouble you."

"Stop," answered the inhabitant of the tower, extending his hand, "stop, you approach a victim of the leprosy."

"Whatever may be your misfortune," replied the traveler, "I am not more inclined to leave you than I am to fly the presence of any unfortunate fellow being; but if your sufferings increase, in the least, with seeing me, pray say so, and I will leave you."

'Welcome, welcome!" said the Leper, turning his face, "and remain, if you dare, after having seen me." The stranger was, for an instant, seized with astonishment and terror, at seeing this wretched being, totally disfigured by disease. "I gladly remain," he said, "if you will accept the visit of one whom accident has brought, and whom and irresistible interest keeps here."

The Leper. Interest! I have never excited anything but pity.

The Officer. I should think myself happy, if I could offer you any consolation.

The Leper. It is a great consolation to see human beings, and to hear the sound of those who seem to fly me.

The Officer. Permit me to converse with you a little while, and to be acquainted with your solitary dwelling.

The Leper. I am fain to consent, if you can find any pleasure in it." [On saying this the Leper covered his face with the large borders of his hat.] "Go on; go to the southern wall; I cultivate, in a small parterre, some flowers, which may perhaps gratify you. Some of them are rare; I was fortunate enough to find seeds of all the wild flowers, which grow on the Alps; and I have tried to double and to improve them by culture.

The Officer. Indeed, here are flowers which I have never seen before.

The Leper. Observe this little bush of roses. They are called "Roses without thorns," and they thrive only on the summits of the Alps; but they begin to lose that property; the thorns grow as they multiply and as they are cultivated with more care.

The Officer. This flower ought to be the emblem of ingratitude.

The Leper. If any of these flowers please you, you can take them and keep them without fear. I planted them, and find pleasure in watering and seeing them, but I never touch them.

The Officer. Why?

The Leper. For fear of losing the pleasure of giving them away.

The Officer. For whom do you intend them?

The Leper. Those who bring me my provisions from the Hospital, are not afraid to take my flowers. Sometimes children come from the town, and as near as to the entrance of the garden; I go immediately into the tower, for fear of frightening or infecting them. I see them from my window, playing and collecting flowers. When they retire, they raise their eyes, and wish a good morning to the Leper, with an innocent smile, and I feel then something like happiness.

The Officer. You have collected here a great variety of plants; I see, too, you have vineyards and different kinds of fruit trees.

The Leper. The trees are yet young; I planted them myself, as well as this creeping vine, which, I have brought to the height of that wall, and at the foot of which I have a little alley. That alley is my favorite walk. Go up by these stones; I built these steps; keep near the wall.

The Officer. What a beautiful place for retirement! how appropriate for the meditations of a hermit!

The Leper. I like it for that reason; I see from here the neighboring fields, and the husbandmen when engaged in their labors; I see all that is going in the meadows, and no one sees me.

The Officer. I admire the tranquility and the solitude of this place. On the borders of the city, one may almost think himself in a desert.

The Leper. Solitude is found not only in forests, or amongst rocks; misfortune creates it every where.


This is an excerpt. To read the rest, please continue your travels in the Republic by purchasing No. 13, Summer 2004.

Xavier de Maistre's bio is forthcoming.



©2007 News from the Republic of Letters All rights reserved.

 

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