The Knickerbocker | Page 3

to some craggy steep or mountain pinnacle, where
stands the clustered village. The villages and larger towns are generally
set among groves of orange, almond, and pomegranate trees, with here
and there a dark Carruba, or Leutisk tree, casting its ample shade.
Fields of the broad bean, the chief food of the laboring classes, serves
at times to vary with vivid green the monotony of the landscape. The
traveller rolls along over no Macadamised road in his comfortable
carriage, but mounted on his mule, leaves him to choose his own track
among the numerous ones that form what is called the strada-maëstro,
or master-road, between city and city. Here and there he will come to a

stone fountain, constructed perhaps centuries ago, which still furnishes
a delightful beverage for himself and beast. Oftentimes the road leads
through a country entirely waste, and covered with tall bunches of grass
or the dwarfish palmetto; sometimes in the cultivated districts the road
is bounded by the formidable prickly-pear, which grows to the height
of twenty feet, or by rows of the stately aloe, and not unfrequently by
wild hedges of myrtle, intertwined with innumerable climbing plants,
whose flowers the traveller can pick as he rides along. Generally the
road-side is perfectly enamelled with flowers of various hue and
fragrance. No majestic river, like the Hudson, spreads before him, with
all its glittering sails and swift steam-boats; but ever and anon the blue
and placid Mediterranean bounds his vision, or indents the shore, with
here and there a picturesque and lazy barque reflected in the waves.
I have before said that the towns and villages are generally perched like
eagles' nests in high places. This is particularly the case with those of
the interior: many of them are inaccessible to carriages, except the
Letiga, a sort of large sedan-chair, gaudily decorated with pictures of
saints, and suspended between two mules, one of which trots before
and the other behind, to the continual din of numerous bells and the
harsh shouts of the muleteers. I never saw one of these vehicles, which
are the only travelling carriages of the interior of Sicily, without
thinking that there might be a land-sickness even worse than a
sea-sickness; for the motion of the letiga in clambering up and down
the broken steeps must be far more tempestuous than any thing ever
experienced at sea. Between village and village you see no snug villa,
farm-house, or cottage by the road-side, or nestling among the trees;
but here and there a gloomy castellated building, a lonely ruin or stern
Martello tower, whose dilapidated walls crown some steep headland,
against whose base washes the ever-murmuring waves. Now the
traveller descends to the beach, his only road; the mountains are far
inland, or dip their broad bases in the sea-foam, or impend in fearful
masses over his head. He ascends again, and journeys over wastes
which undoubtedly in the time of the Greek and the Roman were
covered with fruits and grain; but which now are treeless and desolate
as the deep whose breezes stir the flowers that deck them. At times he
must ford streams, which, if swollen with late rains, are perilous in the

extreme.
I remember once on my journey descending from one of those treeless
wastes upon a spot very different from any thing on this side of the
Atlantic. It was called Verdura, from its green and verdant character. A
stream which flowed through a plain bounded by lofty mountains here
fell into the sea. A large mill, which much resembles an ancient castle,
and in all probability had served both purposes in times gone by, stood
near. Upon the sandy beach close by, and hauled entirely out of the
water, lay several vessels in the style of Homer's ships; and I have no
doubt bore a strong resemblance to ships of ancient time, for they were
picturesquely formed, and painted fantastically with figures of fishes
and eyes. The wild-looking mariners were lounging lazily about in their
shaggy capotes, or engaged in loading their vessels with grain, the
product of the neighboring plains. Up the steep we had just descended a
letiga was slowly winding; and on a green declivity overlooking the sea,
a flock of goats were browsing, and their shepherd reclined near in
listless idleness. Open and treeless as was this scene, there was such a
peaceful character about it, such an air of primitive simplicity, that it
made a strong impression on my mind.
It does not come within the scope of this paper to offer any description
of the larger cities of Sicily, Palermo, Messina, etc. Most readers have
seen accounts of them more ample and more interesting than I could
offer. Of the smaller places I must content myself with giving a very
general