Bolsano.--Indications of approaching
Italy.--Fire-flies.--Appearance of the Peasantry.--A forest
Lake.--Arrive at Borgo di Volsugano.--Prospect of Hills in the
Venetian State.--Gorgeous Flies.--Fortress of Covalo.--Leave the
country of crags and precipices and enter the territory of the
Bassanese.--Groves of olives and vines.--Classic appearance of
Bassano.--Happy groups.--Pachierotti, the celebrated
singer.--Anecdote of him.
July 29, 1780.
We proceeded over fertile mountains to Bolsano. It was here first that I
noticed the rocks cut into terraces, thick set with melons and Indian
corn; fig-trees and pomegranates hanging over garden walls, clustered
with fruit. In the evening we perceived several further indications of
approaching Italy; and after sun-set the Adige, rolling its full tide
between precipices, which looked terrific in the dusk. Myriads of
fire-flies sparkled amongst the shrubs on the bank. I traced the course
of these exotic insects by their blue light, now rising to the summits
of the trees, now sinking to the ground, and associating with vulgar
glow-worms. We had opportunities enough to remark their progress, since
we travelled all night; such being my impatience to reach the promised
land!
Morning dawned just as we saw Trent dimly before us. I slept a few
hours, then set out again (July 30th), after the heats were in some
measure abated, and leaving Bergine, where the peasants were feasting
before their doors, in their holiday dresses, with red pinks stuck in
their ears instead of rings, and their necks surrounded with coral of
the same colour, we came through a woody valley to the banks of a lake,
filled with the purest and most transparent water, which loses itself in
shady creeks, amongst hills entirely covered with shrubs and verdure.
The shores present one continual thicket, interspersed with knots of
larches and slender almonds, starting from the underwood. A cornice of
rock runs round the whole, except where the trees descend to the very
brink, and dip their boughs in the water.
It was six o’clock when I caught the sight of this unsuspected lake,
and the evening shadows stretched nearly across it. Gaining a very rapid
ascent, we looked down upon its placid bosom, and saw several airy peaks
rising above tufted foliage. I quitted the contemplation of them with
regret, and, in a few hours, arrived at Borgo di Volsugano; the scene of
the lake still present before the eye of my fancy.
July 31st.--My heart beat quick when I saw some hills, not very distant,
which I was told lay in the Venetian State, and I thought an age, at
least, had elapsed before we were passing their base. The road was never
formed to delight an impatient traveller; loose pebbles and rolling
stones render it, in the highest degree, tedious and jolting. I should
not have spared my execrations, had it not traversed a picturesque
valley, overgrown with juniper, and strewed with fragments of rock,
precipitated, long since, from the surrounding eminences, blooming with
cyclamens.