The Knickerbocker | Page 4

description, so that I may retain the requisite space, in this
division of my article, for some notice of an ascent which I made to the
sublime summit of Mount Ætna.
The secondary towns to which I have alluded, such as Calatifini,
Sciacca, Caltagerone, etc., are in general picturesquely situated, and are
built in a massive and sometimes even in a magnificent style. The
churches and houses are all of hewn stone, and exhibit the various
styles of architecture of the builders; the Saracenic, the Norman-Gothic,
or the later Spanish taste. Sometimes the styles are fantastically
intermixed; but the whole, to the architect, is extremely interesting. Flat
roofs and projecting stone balconies from the upper windows are

perhaps the most characteristic features of the houses. The churches,
though large, are seldom beautiful specimens of architecture; and the
interior is in general extremely ornate, and decorated with gaudy
gilding and pictures, and images of CHRIST and saints, disgustingly
painted. The streets, wide or narrow, would appear to us somewhat
gloomy and prison-like; and paint is a thing scarcely known on the
exterior or perhaps interior of an ordinary house. The air of the interior
of the common houses of the Sicilian towns is as gloomy and
comfortless as can be imagined. A few wooden benches, a table firmly
fixed in the stone pavement, a fire-place composed of a few blocks of
stone placed on the floor, the smoke of which is allowed to make its
escape as it best can at the window, which is always destitute of glass,
and is closed by a rude wooden shutter when required; a bed consisting
of a mattress of the same hue as the floor, raised a few feet from it by
means of boards on a rude frame; some sheep-skins for blankets, and
sheets of coarse stuff whose color serves as an effectual check on the
curiosity of him who would pry too closely into its texture; are the
chief articles of furniture to be found in the habitations of the Sicilian
poor. Beside the human inhabitants of these uninviting abodes, there
are innumerable lively creatures, whose names it were almost impolite
to mention in polished ears; and I might not have alluded to them had
they confined themselves to such places; but they rejoice in the palace
as well as in the cottage, and to the traveller's sorrow inflict themselves
without his consent as travelling companions through the whole
Sicilian tour.
The houses of the more wealthy are spacious and airy, but not much
superior in point of comfort. They are often of commanding exterior,
and are called palazzi, or palaces. Of course, there are exceptions to this
general character of discomfort; but judging from my own observation,
they are few. On approaching a Sicilian village, the eye of the traveller
will almost surely be attracted by a capacious and solid building,
surmounted by a belfry-tower, and commanding the most charming
prospect in the vicinity. It is surrounded with orange groves and
cypress-trees, and looks like a place fitted for the enjoyment of a
contemplative life. He will not long remain in doubt as to the purpose
of the building whose site is so delightfully chosen; for walking slowly

along the shady path, or seated in some pleasant nook, singly or in
groups, he will perceive the long-robed monks, the reverend masters of
the holy place.
Connoisseurs say that a landscape is imperfect without figures; and as
that is the case in a picture, it is most probably so in a magazine article;
and the reader might complain if I were to neglect giving some slight
outlines of the figures of the Sicilian landscape. In travelling from city
to city, although they may not be more than twenty miles apart, the
wayfarer meets with very few persons on the road; seldom an
individual, and only now and then, at an interval of miles, a group of
men mounted on mules, each person carrying a gun; or perhaps a
convoy of loaded mules and asses with several muleteers, some
mounted and some on foot, who urge by uncouth cries and blows the
weary beasts over the rocky or swampy ground, or up some steep
acclivity or across some torrent's bed. At times he will see a shepherd
or two watching their flocks; these are half-naked, wild looking beings,
scarcely raised in the scale of intelligence above their bleating charge.
Their dwelling may be hard by, a conical hut of grass or straw, or a
ruined tower. On the fertile slopes or plains he will sometimes observe
a dozen yokes of oxen ploughing abreast. The laborers probably chose
this contiguity for the sake of company across the wide fields. If the
grass or grain is to be cut, it is by both men and women armed