I am now come to _St. Dimas_, the last, and most important, if not the
most beautiful of all the hermits' habitations. This hermitage is
surrounded on all sides by steep and dreadful precipices, some of which
lead the eyes straight down, even to the river _Lobregate_; it can be
entered only on the east side by a draw-bridge, which, when lifted up,
renders any access to it almost impossible. This hermitage was formerly
a strong castle, and possessed by a _banditti_, who frequently plundered
and ravaged the country in the day-time, and secured themselves from
punishment, by retiring to this fast hold by night. As it stands, or
rather hangs over the buildings and convent below, they would frequently
lower baskets by cords, and demand provisions, wine, or whatever
necessaries or luxuries the convent afforded; and if their demands were
not instantly complied with, they tumbled down rocks of an immense size,
which frequently damaged the buildings, and killed the people beneath:
indeed, it was always in their power to destroy the whole building, and
suffer none to live there; but that would have been depriving themselves
of one safe means of subsistence:--at length the monks, by the
assistance of good glasses, and a constant attention to the motion of
their troublesome _boarders_, having observed that the greater part were
gone out upon the _marauding_ party, persuaded seven or eight stout
farmers to believe, that heaven would reward them if they could scale
the horrid precipices, and by surprise seize the castle, and secure the
few who remained in it;--and these brave men accordingly got into it
unobserved, killed one of the men, and secured the others for a public
example. The castle was then demolished, and a hermitage called _St.
Dimas_, or the Good Thief, built upon the spot. The views from it are
very extensive and noble to the south and eastward.
And now, Sir, having conducted you to make a short visit to each of
these wonderful, though little abodes, I must assure you, that a man
well versed in _author craft_ might write thirteen little volumes upon
subjects so very singular. But as no written account can give a perfect
idea of the particular beauties of any mountain, and more especially of
one so unlike all others, I shall quit nature, and conduct you to the
works of art, and treasures of value, which are within the walls of the
holy sanctuary below; only observing, what I omitted to mention, that
the great rains which have fallen since the creation of all things, down
the sides of this steep mount, have made round the whole base a
prodigious wide and deep trench, which has the appearance of a vast
river course drained of its water. In this deep trench lie an infinite
number of huge blocks of the mountain, which have from age to age caved
down from its side, and which renders the _tout au tour_ of the mountain
below full as extraordinary as the pointed pinnacles above: beside this,
there are many little recesses on the sides of the hill below, so
adorned by stately trees and natural fountains, that I know not which
part of the enchanted spot is most beautiful. I found in one of these
places a little garden, fenced in by the fallen rocks, a spring of so
clear and cool a water, and the whole so shaded by, oaks, so warmed by
the sun, and so superlatively romantic, that I was determined to find
out the owner of it, and have set about building a house or a hut to the
garden, and to have made it my abode; but, alas! upon enquiry, I found
the well was a holy one, and that the water, the purest and finest I
ever saw or tasted could only be used for holy purposes. And here let me
observe, that the generality of strangers who visit this mountain, come
prepared only to stay one day;--but it is not a day, nor a week, that
is sufficient to see half the smaller beauties which a mountain, so
great and wonderful of itself, affords on all sides, from the highest
pinacle above, to the foundation stones beneath.
But I should have told you, that there are other roads to some of the
hermitages above, which, by twisting and turning from side to side, are
every week clambered up by a blind mule, who, being loaded with thirteen
baskets containing the provision for the hermits, goes up without any
conductor, and taking the hermitages in their proper order, goes as near
as he can to each, and waits till the hermit has taken his portion; and
proceeds till he has discharged his load, and his trust, and then
returns to his stable below. I did not see this animal on the road, but
I saw some of his _offerings there_, and you may rely upon the truth of
what I tell you.
Before I quit the hermits, however, I must tell you, that the hardships
and fatigues which some of them voluntarily inflict upon themselves, are
almost incredible: they cannot, like the monks in _Russia_, sit in water
to their chins till they are froze up, but they undergo some penances
almost as severe.