EMILY LOWE
Unprotected Females in Sicily
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CHAPTER XII.
ASCENT OF MOUNT AETNA.
"And climbed with heart the adverse steep."
Dante
A soft tinkling of bells beneath the window said "Rise!" and though
the young moon was alone in the sky with one pale star, the orange
dawn lay as a broad belt on the dark Ionian sea.
We boundingly dress, and spring on the mules with palpitating
pleasure, for it is not the fulfilment of our dream, our object,--and
you of ardent temperament know all that word contains,--near its
fulfilment?
Nicolosi, black sepulchre of lava as it seems, with its sleeping
inhabitants, is traversed in silence, the ponderous animals sink
hoof-deep into the jetty sand, and trembling hope keeps us speechless.
On, on,--let the village sink contemptuously into formless mass with
the kindred blocks around,--our aim is there, where a soft, soft form
is felt to rise.
Soon sight comes to feeling; and as a white light slowly spreads
around, it is more decidedly caught by eastward sloping snows, till
waxing and waxing with purer intensity, through reflecting its
flameless brilliancy, a white vacuum is made by a spotless pyramid in
the deep blue sky.
Pace on, pace on, ye steady mules! with your noses so methodically
strung together; dawn is advancing into morn, the pure white light is
changing into ardent fire, and now one glorious flame leaps forth; the
mountain quails at its touch, the snow bounds as it feels the scorch
of its golden light, and cold AEtna is wrapped in sunbeams.
Now glow, O east! now blush, O mount! now sparkle, O hoar-frost, which
covers with diamond manna the Desert of Lava! Rejoice with us that a
glorious summer's day had begun in mid-winter, while Angiolo and
Gorgio devoutly smile upwards, and thank Santa Lucia!
At the moment the sun's rays reach the ground, the oaks stretch out
their shady branches to us, and we enter the region called "Bosco."
Though the month is December, and much snow has fallen, many of the
leaves still cling to the trees, the ivy round the trunks is
brilliantly green; the roots are buried in ferns; the scene is that of
a beautiful English park, we continually expect peeping antlers to
rise and disappear, followed by bounding fawns. In summer when the
cool grot to arrive at the Bosco from the horrid coal-cellar below,
which the sun, I am sure, mistaking for the real thing, endeavours
with all his might to ignite. The hour and a half passed in this
sylvan scene, the only one in poor heated Sicily, was delightful!
Breathing the morning freshness we were carried dreamingly on, and it
was not till a few patches of snow commenced sharing the ground with
the moss, and at every step became more and more y encroaching,
usurping the whoo`e ground, only just allowing the heavy oaks room to
rise knottingly upwards, that the sense of the presence of AEtna above
returned. The mules, from which the guides had alighted, after
battling bravely with their slippery footing, were beginning to sink
knee-deep in the snow; then one in crossing the frozen bed of a
rivulet turned completely over. The guides looked what they would
say--"Yours may do the same any moment." We dismounted with a sigh in
front of a great hill of perpendicular white, one of the little
inequalitied of the mountain, and then felt the moment was come when
two of the wonders of creation, a snowy volcano and a woman's
curiosity, were to try their ardour against each other, though the
former had placed its crater 11,000 feet out of reach. The Bosco
continued for some distance yet, and other explorers had always been
able to ride beyond it. However, at the foot of Monte Vittori` our mule
sacrifice was made; and as in getting off I staggered a little from
sitting two hours in the same position, I saw one of the guides shake
his head distrustfully to the other, without having then an idea of
the extent of their doubts of our powers; for you must know, reader,
though occasionally making a wonderful exertion, we are "deceitfully
delicate looking," as some have said with surprise after reading our
passage of the So'gne Fjeld in Norway. The cloaks, hoods, and
over[-]stocking, and all extras, were left with the muleteer, who had
orders to wait at the confines of the wood. The guides wished much to
leave the shawls also; but dreading the twenty degrees of cold
promised above, we would not give them up. Mamma took Angiolo's, I
Georgio's arm, and we set off with a conquering step.
After a few paces I began to outstrip her, when she called me back,
and said in a mild, but matronly firm tone, "My dear, the single
condition on which I will attempt this ascent is, that you remain
behind me, merely following, letting me regulate the rate at which we
walk;" which she did on so excellent a plan, that I attribute the
success of the whole attempt to her, and think it the only one on
which ladies, and perhaps some gentlemen also, can ascend high
mountains with comfort. It was to continue at a uniform steady pace,
stopping to breathe every now and then, before the lungs were quite
exhausted. By this proceeding we got on so comfortably, that, if there
were no other obstacle, I felt we could easily have walked up the
Himalayas with plenty of time, and the repressed ardour acted as steam
later on the journey.
As yet hills of snow rose on every side, succeeding each other and
allowing of no view; by degrees they became farther apart, and sinking
one below the other as we rose, presented an extraordinary appearance.
Extinct craters as they were, and all concave at the summit, their
hollows filled with glistening snow, looking down upon them they
seemed a collection of colossal porcelain wash-hand basins. At this
point the view began to be interesting, as the lower craters were also
visible, some half covered with snow, others only slightly podered,
the amount of white showing their distance, till they melted into the
rich red and puce of Sicilian surface. One of the beauties of AEtna's
ascent is, that owing to its sloping sides, nothing invidiously hides
the vast horizon around, which expands beneath the charmed eye so
captivatingly that it must watch it, thus cheating fatigue, and
animating by a feeling of commanding position to continual
advancement, until within reach of the great "Piano delle Lave"
towards the summit, when nearer objects of interest advance, and for a
while console the climber until his former horizon reappear in magic
grandeur.
For two hours we walked with perfect facility on crisp hard snow, and
saw with exulting pleasure that the "Montagnuolo," which from beneath
seems almost close to the crater, was gradually losing ita
unattainable appearance, and allowing us to sidle up to is base, when
an overpowering difficulty made itself felt,--the heat, which placed a
fiery barrier on our rising path, and during the whole ascent made an
almost invisible resistance to our advancement. The shawls one by one
were thrown off, handkerchiefs followed; the heavy cloth petticoats
next, till the poor guides were quite disguised with bearing the extra
garments, and meekly quoted their former advice to leave them with the
muleteer. Yet they had no right to be warm; for if the heat of Africa
breathe over AEtna's snows in winter, can the imagination even,--that
ardent burner!--glow to the slightest idea of what Sicilian climate
must be in summer, when they declared it was much hotter? All the
national fire of character became at once comprehensible to us, and
even infectious; as stifling heat spreads languos and exhausted
indifference around, so do the directly darting rays stir up the soul
to rage, and maddening the blood, make it impel the body on to
opposition. No, heat! you shall not vanquish! Though, unexpected,
determined, and ferocious, you find us without even the shade of a
tiny umbrella against your attacks! The hour's toil up to the column
was inexpressibly painful. We tried to walk in the guides' shadows, to
gasp one panting breath of air, to raise the swimming head,--it was
ardour against ardour,--and when, bathed in fire, on a desert of snow,
we threw ourselves at the base of the lava pyramid, saw a great white
Sahara extending beyond, with another AEtna rising from it in the
steamy distance,--then, heat, you had well[-]nigh been conqueror.
A quarter of an hour's torpid rest, immovably stretched upon the
despised woollens, restored to us the power of movement, and also made
us sensible of a very slight, very sharp, and very refreshing wind,
grazing past from the north, and which, when we had donned the
thickest shawls, was as the fountain of hop to a blistered mind, or
nectar air sent by Jove--that gallant godm always touched by female
wishes, and who keeps the hideous Titan Enceladus out of the way,
crushed beneath the mountain, sine the war of the giants. This air
brought on a great appetite; we told the guides to light the charcoal
for warming the coffee: they hesitatingly said, "it had not been
brought; they never expected we could possibly reach the column; the
few who thought of trying the ascent in winter generally giving way an
hour below." In summer, the spot was a favourite halting place, and,
had we ascended a week sooner, could have ridden that far. The coffee
had to be taken cold, and was most reviving, instead of getting into
the head, like spirits; and I am happy to be able to quote Professor
Forbes, who also preferred tea to wine on his mountain expeditions.
The guides brought out bread and oil, of course; for dessert each had
one of our cold veal chops, which we found nice solid things, with a
little fruit, making a strengthening and not too heavy meal. After the
cooling air, refreshment, and rest of an hour, things began to assume
quite a different appearance: when two lovely yellow butterflies came
and flitted about, eight thousand feet above the sea stretched below,
we sprang up and felt as if we would fly also; for surely what
butterflies could reach we could!
The "Piano delle Lave" lay stretched out to the "Casa degli Inglesi,"
the next goal. Angiolo and Georgio were hooked in again, and soon
covered with shawls, for when we moved, the wind seemed to disappear,
and the heat raged again undisturbed. The snow had now become soft,
and at each step we sank in ankle-deep, then almost knee-deep; it was
very, very hard work; while that "Montagnuolo," at first so advancing,
seemed as if it would accompany us, and never let un edge beyond its
shoulder; the little "Casa degli Inglesi," instead of increasing in
size, remained the same insignificant distant dot; even the lovely
appearance of the snow, whose alabaster surface was shaded into deep
sea-green wherever we had stepped, could not charm us into thinking it
less heavy than a dry sandy beach. This was another two hours'
probation, seeming never to end, and, like the former, to be endured
only by one of those efforts which enthusiasm can force now and then
in a lifetime,--it felt rewarded when the little roof of the highest
placed house in Europe sloped at touching distance above the snow! As
the frozen banks prevented the door being opened, I at once seated
Mamma comfortably on an icicle, to examine the effects of the last
earthquake, which had thrown down the back rooms -- then rushed off
with Angiolo towards the crater, and was out of reach in a moment!
Up and down the little snow-hills we ran with glee, the good soul
being as excited as myself, and not till we came to the ascent of the
funnel (of which only a gravel walk outside the dome of St. Paul's can
give any idea), did I well understand how that many people who even
rode up to the Casa never reached the crater of the mountain. For,
reader, AEtna being a pyramid, and towering above all nature within the
vast horizon around, the miserable beings on her summit are suspended
in the air, and merely cling with a poor little pair of feet to a few
shifting cinders, while all Sicily waits to receive their bones when,
giddy-headed, the roll below. Such beinf the prospect, and the
probable result of looking round, it can be imagined that a good head
is necessary, as it is impossible, fron the steepness, to take more
than four steps upwards without stopping; the rarification of the air
had not the slightest effect upon us during the whole ascent; poor
Italian travellers are quite torn in pieces by it; they either drink
"ruum" or suck lemons the whole way up. The ground was pleasantly warm
beneath our feet, if we did not rest too long; here and there, smoke
came from slits in the sulphureous yellow ground, called "Papone del
Cratere," giving an awful sensation of hollowness beneath.
Toil, toil, toil; is this to be never-ending? Hark, a sound! it must
be Vulcan's anvil [p.136]
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This digital version prepared by Martin Guy ,
october 2001.
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