ITALY: A Tale of Two Villages

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The prosperous villagers of Spilamberto in North Italy raged with frustration when they looked down on the neighboring village of San Cesario. One might have thought the shoe would be on the other foot: Spilamberto's 3,500 people thrive on the yield of their vineyards, their orchards, and their explosives factory; San Cesario's 1,500 citizens live on lower ground, where the uncertain waters of the Panaro River often overflow into the vineyards and the groves of apple and cherry trees. But San Cesario has what Spilamberto wants: a small bronze cannon with a broken breech. Last week, Spilamberto was suing San Cesario for the cannon.

Spilambertians said that it had been given to their town many years ago by Baldassarre Castiglione, a local resident who collected river stones, old guns and butterflies. Castiglione was remembered for the cannon, and for his habit of punishing his walking stick, when it fell to the ground, by standing it for three days in a corner of the room. San Cesarians said that the cannon was originally theirs, and they lent it for one day in 1880 to the Spilambertians, who would not give it back.

Hot Cannon. On feast days, the Spilambertians brought the cannon to the border of the villages, shot it off in the direction of San Cesario. At festivals, San Cesarians shouted, "Give us back our cannon, swindlers," and the Spilambertians replied, "Come and get it, cowards."

This kept on for 64 years until there arose in San Cesario one who could take the challenge. Young Gustavo Sola, a partisan hero of World War II, was known as "Il Corsaro" (the pirate). When the war was over, the 23-year-old Corsaro went with two friends to Spilamberto's priest, who had charge of the cannon, and persuaded him to yield the trophy in exchange for a signed receipt. Detouring en route so the countryside might see, Il Corsaro trundled the cannon home in a handcart, and received a hero's welcome: a supper of lasagna, tortellini, young kid, pork and chicken, topped off by a demijohn of wine. Next day, he loaded the cannon with a double charge of powder, and fired it in the direction of Spilamberto. Unfortunately, the heavy charge split the breech.

Spilamberto's priest, Don Romeo Spatini, went to court, asking return of the cannon plus damages for the splitting of the breech. He brandished the receipt, but Il Corsaro slyly pointed out that he had not specified when he would return the cannon. He hid the cannon at a dairy farm, and San Cesarians took turns guarding it. They organized an official Committee for the Cannon, to produce evidence for the trial. All San Cesario was together on this: the committee included the Communist Il Corsaro, the priest of the village, and the leader of San Cesario's Christian Democrats.