May 29th.--We left Perugia at about three o'clock to-day, and went down a
pretty steep descent; but I have no particular recollection of the road
till it again began to descend, before reaching the village of Magione.
We all, except my wife, walked up the long hill, while the vettura was
dragged after us with the aid of a yoke of oxen. Arriving first at the
village, I leaned over the wall to admire the beautiful paese ("le bel
piano," as a peasant called it, who made acquaintance with me) that lay
at the foot of the hill, so level, so bounded within moderate limits by a
frame of hills and ridges, that it looked like a green lake. In fact, I
think it was once a real lake, which made its escape from its bed, as I
have known some lakes to have done in America.
Passing through and beyond the village, I saw, on a height above the
road, a half-ruinous tower, with great cracks running down its walls,
half-way from top to bottom. Some little children had mounted the hill
with us, begging all the way; they were recruited with additional members
in the village; and here, beneath the ruinous tower, a madman, as it
seemed, assaulted us, and ran almost under the carriage-wheels, in his
earnestness to get a baioccho. Ridding ourselves of these annoyances, we
drove on, and, between five and six o'clock, came in sight of the Lake of
Thrasymene, obtaining our first view of it, I think, in its longest
extent. There were high hills, and one mountain with its head in the
clouds, visible on the farther shore, and on the horizon beyond it; but
the nearer banks were long ridges, and hills of only moderate height.
The declining sun threw a broad sheen of brightness over the surface of
the lake, so that we could not well see it for excess of light; but had a
vision of headlands and islands floating about in a flood of gold, and
blue, airy heights bounding it afar. When we first drew near the lake,
there was but a narrow tract, covered with vines and olives, between it
and the hill that rose on the other side. As we advanced, the tract grew
wider, and was very fertile, as was the hillside, with wheat-fields, and
vines, and olives, especially the latter, which, symbol of peace as it
is, seemed to find something congenial to it in the soil stained long ago
with blood. Farther onward, the space between the lake and hill grew
still narrower, the road skirting along almost close to the water-side;
and when we reached the town of Passignano there was but room enough for
its dirty and ugly street to stretch along the shore. I have seldom
beheld a lovelier scene than that of the lake and the landscape around
it; never an uglier one than that of this idle and decaying village,
where we were immediately surrounded by beggars of all ages, and by men
vociferously proposing to row us out upon the lake. We declined their
offers of a boat, for the evening was very fresh and cool, insomuch that
I should have liked an outside garment,--a temperature that I had not
anticipated, so near the beginning of June, in sunny Italy. Instead
of a row, we took a walk through the village, hoping to come upon the
shore of the lake, in some secluded spot; but an incredible number of
beggar-children, both boys and girls, but more of the latter, rushed out
of every door, and went along with us, all howling their miserable
petitions at the same moment.
The village street is long, and our escort waxed more numerous at every
step, till Miss Shepard actually counted forty of these little
reprobates, and more were doubtless added afterwards. At first, no
doubt, they begged in earnest hope of getting some baiocchi; but, by and
by, perceiving that we had determined not to give them anything, they
made a joke of the matter, and began to laugh and to babble, and turn
heels over head, still keeping about us, like a swarm of flies, and now
and then begging again with all their might. There were as few pretty
faces as I ever saw among the same number of children; and they were as
ragged and dirty little imps as any in the world, and, moreover, tainted
the air with a very disagreeable odor from their rags and dirt; rugged
and healthy enough, nevertheless, and sufficiently intelligent; certainly
bold and persevering too; so that it is hard to say what they needed to
fit them for success in life. Yet they begin as beggars, and no doubt
will end so, as all their parents and grandparents do; for in our walk
through the village, every old woman and many younger ones held out their
hands for alms, as if they had all been famished. Yet these people kept
their houses over their heads; had firesides in winter, I suppose, and
food out of their little gardens every day; pigs to kill, chickens,
olives, wine, and a great many things to make life comfortable. The
children, desperately as they begged, looked in good bodily ease, and
happy enough; but, certainly, there was a look of earnest misery in the
faces of some of the old women, either genuine or exceedingly well acted.
I could not bear the persecution, and went into our hotel, determining
not to venture out again till our departure; at least not in the
daylight. My wife and the rest of the family, however, continued their
walk, and at length were relieved from their little pests by three
policemen (the very images of those in Rome, in their blue, long-skirted
coats, cocked chapeaux-bras, white shoulder-belts, and swords), who boxed
their ears, and dispersed them. Meanwhile, they had quite driven away
all sentimental effusion (of which I felt more, really, than I expected)
about the Lake of Thrasymene.
The inn of Passignano promised little from its outward appearance; a
tall, dark old house, with a stone staircase leading us up from one
sombre story to another, into a brick-paved dining-room, with our
sleeping-chambers on each side. There was a fireplace of tremendous
depth and height, fit to receive big forest-logs, and with a queer,
double pair of ancient andirons, capable of sustaining them; and in a
handful of ashes lay a small stick of olive-wood,--a specimen, I suppose,
of the sort of fuel which had made the chimney black, in the course of a
good many years. There must have been much shivering and misery of cold
around this fireplace. However, we needed no fire now, and there was
promise of good cheer in the spectacle of a man cleaning some lake-fish
for our dinner, while the poor things flounced and wriggled under the
knife.
The dinner made its appearance, after a long while, and was most
plentiful, . . . . so that, having measured our appetite in anticipation
of a paucity of food, we had to make more room for such overflowing
abundance.
When dinner was over, it was already dusk, and before retiring I opened
the window, and looked out on Lake Thrasymene, the margin of which lies
just on the other side of the narrow village street. The moon was a day
or two past the full, just a little clipped on the edge, but gave light
enough to show the lake and its nearer shores almost as distinctly as by
day; and there being a ripple on the surface of the water, it made a
sheen of silver over a wide space.