Note 2 — Chapter XI · WÄLSCH-TIROL. THE WÄLSCH-TIROLISCHE ETSCHTHAL AND ITS TRIBUTARY VALLEYS.

Borghetto is the first village on Tirolese soil, and Ala, in the Middle Ages called Sala, the first town. It thrives on the production of silk, introduced here from Lombardy about 1530. It has a picturesque situation, and some buildings that claim a place in the sketchbook. The other places of interest in the neighbourhood are most conveniently visited from Roveredo, or Rofreit as the Germans call it, a less important and pleasing town than Trent, but placed in a prettier neighbourhood. It received its name of Roboretum from the Latins, on account of the immense forests of oak with which it was surrounded in their time. The road leading through it, being the highway into the country, bristles all along its way with ancient strongholds, as Avio, Predajo, Lizzana, Castelbarco, Beseno, and others, which have all had their share in the numerous struggles for ascendancy, waged for so many years between the Emperor, the Republic of Venice, the Bishops of Trent, and the powerful families inhabiting them. The last-named preserves a tradition of more peaceful interest. At the time that Dante was banished from Florence, Lizzana was a seat of the Scaligers, and they had him for their visitor for some time during his wanderings. Not far from it is the so-called Slavini di San Marco, a vast Steinmeer, which seems, as it were, a ruined mountain, such vast blocks of rock lie scattered on every side. There is little doubt the poet has immortalized the scene he had the opportunity of contemplating here in his description of the descent to the Inferno, opening of Canto XII. It is said that a fine city, called San Marco, lies buried under these gigantic fragments, concerning which the country people were very curious, and were continually excavating to arrive at the treasure it was supposed to contain, till one day a peasant thus engaged saw written in fiery letters on one vast boulder, ‘Beati quelli che mi volteranno’ (happy they who turn me round). The peasant thought his fortune was made. There could be no doubt the promised happiness must consist in the riches which turning over the stone should disclose. Plenty of neighbours were ready to lend a hand to so promising a toil; and after the most unheard-of exertions, the monster stone was upheaved. But instead of a treasure they found nothing but another inscription, which said ‘Bene mi facesti, perchè le coscie mi duolevano (you have done me a good turn, for I had a pain in my thighs).2 As the peasants felt no great satisfaction in working with no better pay than this, the buried city of San Marco ceased from this time to be the object of their search. Nevertheless, near Mori, on the opposite (west) side of the river, is a deep cave called ‘la Busa del Barbaz,’ concerning which the saying runs, that it was, ages ago, the lurking-place of a cruel white-bearded old man, who lived on human flesh, and that whoso has the courage to explore the cave and discover his remains, will, immediately on touching them, be confronted by his spirit, who will tell the adventurous wight where an immense treasure lies hid. Some sort of origin for this fable may be found in an older tradition, which tells that idols, whose rites demanded human sacrifices, were cast down this cave by the first Christian converts of the Lenothal. The Slavini are closed by a rocky gorge, characteristically named Serravalle; and as the country again opens out another cave on the east bank is pointed out, which was for long years a resort of robbers, who plundered all who passed that way. These were routed out by the Prince-bishop of Trent in 1197, and a hospice for the relief of travellers built on the very spot which so long had been the terror of the wayfarer. The chapel was dedicated in honour of S. Margaret, and still retains the name.