Sicily in Shadow and in Sun: The Earthquake and the American Relief Work — Inside the Classic

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Elliott, Maud Howe, 1854-1948 Project Gutenberg 2018 Not confirmed
Earthquakes -- Italy -- Messina; Earthquake relief -- Italy Readers of public-domain and historical texts
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Words 101,918
Reading time 444 min
Text sections 13

This digital edition of Sicily in Shadow and in Sun: The Earthquake and the American Relief Work — Inside the Classic is described by source-level measurements including 101,918 words, 7 hr 24 min estimated reading time, and 13 detected text sections.

The text analysis averages about 17.6 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.

Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Earthquakes -- Italy -- Messina,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.

Maud Howe Elliott's 1910 account of the Messina earthquake and American relief combines travel writing, historical overview, and on-the-ground logistics, using her husband John Elliott's photographs and diary entries to document the construction of a refugee camp in the Valley of the Mosella.
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the Greek cities of Sicily. The Greek rulers were called Tyrants. They were great rulers indeed; the greatest of them, Dionysius, ruled 406 B.C. Then came the heavy-handed Romans and the first glory of Sicily was at end. The Romans made a granary of Sicily and carried off its treasures to adorn imperial Rome. They stayed a long time, but with the crumbling of the Roman Empire there came a change in Sicily, the first Roman province, and for a time the Goths and the Byzantines ruled her. Then came the Saracens. They destroyed Syracuse and made a new capital, Palermo, that from their time to ours has remained the chief city of the island. After the Saracens came the Normans--the same generation of men that subdued England under William the Conqueror,--and gave to Sicily a second period of greatness; for if the Greeks gave Sicily her Golden Age, the Norman age at least was Silver Gilt. The French came too, but their stay was short, their reign inglorious; it is chiefly remembered on account of the massacre of the Sicilian Vespers, when the Sicilians rose, drove out their conquerors, and drenched the land in French blood. In the early part of the fifteenth century, Spain, who was beginning her age of conquest, conquered Sicily and held it subject for more than four hundred years. Finally, in the year 1860, came Garibaldi, and reunited Sicily to Italy.

Geologically, Sicily has been as restless as it has been politically and socially. At least twice it was connected with Italy, and once probably with Africa, so that African animals entered it. The Straits of Messina, only two miles wide, and one hundred and fifty fathoms deep, are Nature’s record of an earthquake rupture between Italy and Sicily. Mount Etna, the most impressive thing in the island, has been there since early tertiary times--before the days of the ice-age, when the mammoth and cave-bear roamed through the woods of Europe. It is probably a younger mountain than Vesuvius, but long before the dawn of history Sicily and Calabria were the prey of the earthquake and the volcano. The Straits of Messina and Mount Etna are both the results of earthquake activity. The Straits are a gigantic crevice in the earth; the volcano is only a tear in the earth’s crust, so deep that the hot steam of the interior of the earth rises from the ever open rupture. Etna, therefore, is not the cause of earthquake, but is itself the child of an earthquake. It sprang, a full-grown mountain, from the breast of earth, as Pallas from the brain of Zeus. Etna was probably far larger once than it is now. The present cone rests on a volcanic plateau, that appears to have been the base of a larger cone, which was blown to atoms. The old mountain is full of cracks which are filled with hard basalt that cements it together. Its explosive tendency causes it to give rise to a great many little cones upon the sides, called parasitic cones, which burst forth suddenly almost anywhere.

Historian, poet, geologist, each tells his story, but the poet tells it best of all. There is no better description of Sicily and its people than the one you will find in the Odyssey.

“They all their products to free Nature owe, The soil untilled, a ready harvest yields, With wheat and barley wave the golden fields, Spontaneous wines from weighty clusters pour, And Jove descends in each prolific shower. By these no statutes and no rights are known, No council held, no monarch fills the throne;

Each rules his race, his neighbor not his care, Heedless of others, to his own severe.” --_Homer’s Odyssey, translated by Pope._

I. MESSINA DESTROYED 1

II. THE STRAITS OF DEATH 39

III. AMERICA TO THE RESCUE 77

IV. THE CRUISE OF THE “BAYERN” 116

V. ROYAL VISITORS 161

VI. AT PALAZZO MARGHERITA 191

VII. BUILDING THE NEW MESSINA 217

VIII. THE CAMP BY TORRENTE ZAERA 248

IX. GUESTS AT CAMP 269

X. THE VILLAGGIO REGINA ELENA 293

XIV. MR. ROOSEVELT AT MESSINA 427

XVI. MESSINA (AVE ATQUE VALE!) 466

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

From Drawings by John Elliott

THE TELL TALE TOWER _Frontispiece_

RUINS OF THE AMERICAN CONSULATE, MESSINA 20

MESSINA. THE TORRENTE ZAERA 244

REGGIO. QUEEN ELENA’S GROUP OF AMERICAN COTTAGES 248

HOTEL REGINA ELENA AND CHURCH OF SANTA CROCE, AMERICAN VILLAGE, MESSINA 282

MESSINA. AMERICAN COTTAGES, VILLAGGIO REGINA ELENA 304

VIALE GRISCOM, AMERICAN VILLAGE, MESSINA 436

A MAKESHIFT CHURCH AND BELFRY 448

PAY-WINDOW AND THE ARCHBISHOP’S BELL 454

VIA BELKNAP, AMERICAN VILLAGE, MESSINA 472

ELIZABETH GRISCOM HOSPITAL, VILLAGGIO REGINA ELENA 476

Illustrations from Photographs

THE MUNICIPIO IN FLAMES, MESSINA 10

RESCUE PARTY OF RUSSIAN SAILORS 11

THE PALAZZATA, MESSINA 11

THE WATER FRONT, MESSINA 40

THE KING AND THE WOUNDED OFFICER 41

THE BARRACKS, MESSINA 44

RUINS OF A CHURCH, MESSINA 44

DIGGING FOR THE BURIED-ALIVE 45

THE KING AT MESSINA 45

Maud Howe Elliott opens her account not with the earthquake itself but with a sweeping geological and historical portrait of Sicily as the "universal Cross-roads," a battle-ground of contending races and creeds. This framing establishes a tension between the island's layered past and the immediate, practical work of American relief after the 1908 disaster. The narrative voice shifts between a guide's enthusiasm—recommending Theocritus as the best source on Sicily—and a reporter's precision, noting that only forty-nine portable houses were sent by Massachusetts, contrary to popular belief.

A Dual Narrative: History and Logistics

The book interweaves two distinct modes. One is a discursive, essayistic survey of Sicilian history, geology, and poetry, where Elliott advises readers to fit together "scraps of history, poetry, geology." The other is a granular, day-by-day chronicle of relief work, drawn partly from the diary of her husband, John Elliott, an artist who photographed and documented the camp. This duality creates a structural contrast between the timeless island and the urgent, temporary settlement at Torrente Zaera.

The logistical passages are strikingly concrete: the ice-house dug and roofed over, thirty tons of ice stored, a shower bath in Buchanan's house, running water in the kitchen sink. Elliott notes that the waste water was led by a wooden pipe to the Torrente Zaera—a small detail that grounds the narrative in material reality.

The View Through J.'s Kodak

John Elliott's diary entries, marked by the initial "J.," provide a second, more immediate perspective. His observations are unsentimental and sometimes unsettling: he sees children playing in coffins, a soldier leaning on his gun with fixed bayonet beside coffins used as tables and chairs. He criticizes the lack of forethought in building shelters across tram tracks that could have been repaired for transport.

At the camp's inaugural ceremony, J. is busy with his kodak, only hearing the cheers as the Stars and Stripes are raised. The juxtaposition of his detached, photographic eye with the emotional flag-raising underscores the book's interest in how disaster is both experienced and recorded. The diary entries are woven into Elliott's prose without heavy commentary, letting the details speak.

The Camp as a Planned American Enclave

The camp in the Valley of the Mosella was laid out "like any modern suburban district in America," with regular street blocks of twelve houses each. The planning extended to an ice-house, a kitchen, and an outside faucet for general use. The American flag flew during daylight, and the Prefect of Messina formally granted the right to occupy the site.

Elliott emphasizes the contrast between this orderly settlement and the surrounding chaos: the mounds of debris, the diggers hunting for relatives, the makeshift use of coffins. The camp represents a deliberate imposition of American order onto a shattered landscape. Yet the narrative also notes the limits of that order—only forty-nine portable houses arrived, and the camp's existence was temporary, a footnote in the long history of Sicily.

Elliott's book is best read as a layered document: part travel essay, part relief report, part family archive. Readers interested in the logistics of humanitarian work will find detailed descriptions of supply chains and construction; those drawn to the Sicilian setting will encounter a vivid, opinionated portrait of the island. The diary excerpts and photographs by John Elliott offer a counterpoint to the author's own voice, creating a collaborative record of a disaster and its aftermath.

Reading about the Elliott camp in the Mosella valley, I remembered my grandmother’s hands smoothing a worn chintz armchair, how she made order from chaos after the war. Furnishing the Home of Good Taste A Brief Sketch of the Period Styles in Interior Decoration with Suggestions as to Their Employment in the Homes of Today — Inside the Classic once gave me that same quiet ache—the idea that a room, like a tent, is just a small stand against the dark.

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