NICOLOSI-EXPEDITION TO ETNA. "The Port capacious and secure from wind, By turns hot embers from her entrails fly, ABOUT four o'clock, P. M. our party for the mountain was assembled at the door of Abbate's hotel in the Strada del Corso, and a supply of wine, cold turkeys and bread, having been provided for us by our civil landlord, we had only to prepare suitable clothing to protect us from the intense cold which we expected to encounter in the upper regions of Etna. My Maltese friend had doffed his ecclesiastical robes, and three-cornered silk hat, and now looked very jolly in a light shooting coat, and a fur cap, with a variety of warm comfortable things in the shape of worsted stockings, gloves, wrappers, &c. Our party consisted of the three French gentlemen before mentioned, the priest, and myself. We travelled as far as Nicolosi, a small village situated about twelve miles up the mountain, in an open carriage drawn by three horses abreast. A little bare-footed boy stood behind, and served all the purposes of a handsome English tiger. We drove along the Strada Etnea, which leads towards the mountain, from which point its stupendous base begins to rise, and it seems as though, from this spot, one might pursue the path to its very summit. But the illusion soon fades as the traveller advances onwards. Our route now became steep and winding as we journeyed up through gardens of orange and lemon trees, interspersed with the date-palm, the aloe, and the bergamot. The vineyards are fruitful and luxuriant, and the grapes and wine of Etna are by many considered superior to any in Sicily. The country, as far up as Nicolosi, is called the first or fruitful region of the mountain; after which comes the "Bosco," or "Regione Sylvosa ;" and lastly the third region, consisting of scoriæ, ashes and snow, which leads to a platform on the summit of which is the crater. From the To road which ascends from the Strada Etnea, we looked back for a few moments, and enjoyed a most charming and picturesque view of the city and bay, and the distant shores towards Siragusa. The day had been uncommonly sultry, the afternoon was lovely, and as yet everything looked fair and favourable for our ascent, as the sun set over the plains below us with every indication of fine weather. But the climate in the valleys and in the lofty and exposed regions of Etna is so totally different, that no just criterion can be formed from the one of the other. the right of the road are the remains of an aqueduct which formerly conveyed some of the streams that take their rise higher up the mountain to the service of the inhabitants that dwell at its base. A sharp turn in the road led us between two fine obelisks of lava; their bases bear inscriptions, but I was unable to learn to what they had reference. They appeared to be modern erections. Here we met a number of female peasants coming down a steep path, laughing and singing their wild musical songs. They carried their oriental-looking jars of water on their heads, balancing them with that dexterous nicety, so gracefully, and yet so carelessly managed by the Sicilian women. The olive trees at this part of the ascent are very beautiful, and the general aspect of the vegetation in the lower region of the mountain is rich and luxuriant; and although from the long continued drought I saw it to very great disadvantage, yet the immense size of many of the trees, serves to show the fertility and richness of the volcanic soil. Numerous villages lie scattered about this region of the mountain, and the vineyards and olive trees yield their produce to an industrious set of inhabitants, who show more activity and spirit than the people who reside in the less healthy plains of the south, where malaria and the extreme heat of the sun in the summer and autumn months render them very indolent and inactive. In one of these villages, the church dedicated to St. Antonio formed a picturesque object; the spire was gaily ornamented, being composed of painted tiles of all colours, which impart to it a bright and cheerful appearance, contrasting well with the more sombre tints of the surrounding scenery on the mountain. The next village, Praghi, is built of lava, and the gloom it occasions is in a great measure relieved by the opposition of white stone ornaments and porticos. The inhabitants of this region are healthy and strong, and seemed to enjoy the jokes we played upon them as we passed through their sequestered little villages. We reached Nicolosi soon after dark, and could discern the huge shadowy form of Monte Rossi rising abruptly above the village. Over the immense declivity of Etna, are distributed a number of smaller mountains, all having regular conoid or hemispherical outlines, which are frequently covered with trees, giving them the appearance of small parks scattered here and there over the wide ascending surface of Etna. Every fresh eruption gradually forms one of these smaller mountains, and the torrents of liquid lava do not, as is supposed by many persons, burst out from the summit or grand crater of Etna, but after shaking the mountain for some time, and producing volumes of smoke and ashes, the lava forces itself out at some near aperture in the side of the declivity, and the quantities of stones and ashes ejected by the eruption form these conical mountains, which present so curious and important a feature on the mighty steeps of Mongibello. At Nicolosi we left our carriage and horses, which were to await our return from the crater, to convey us back to Catania on the following afternoon. We proposed to make a night ascent, in order to witness the sunrise, and the magnificent panorama which daybreak would reveal of Sicily and the surrounding shores. Our first object was to obtain mules and good guides, and we proceeded at once to the residence of Signor Gemmellaro, the philosopher of Etna, to whom I bore a letter of introduction from my friend Dr. H of London. We walked from a small albergo, where we had alighted, along a path that seemed to our tread, (for it was quite dark, and the moon had not yet risen,) extremely soft, and it proved to be the finest volcanic sand. Our party, as we entered Signor Gemmellaro's cottage, presented a motley and somewhat singular appearance. There were individuals from three different nations, French, Maltese, and English, paying their respective compliments to the agreeable Sicilian, who found it rather puzzling to carry on a conversation which he was obliged to vary in so many different languages. He fortunately understood a little English, and on my presenting my letter, he received me most kindly, and a few words acquainted him with the object of my visit. "It is now seven o'clock," said he: “ you must rest for one hour, and in the mean time I will provide guides for you, and we must have five mules instantly." He had just returned from visiting a patient in the village, and had surveyed the appearances of the atmosphere, which he feared would be unfavourable for an ascent, as the wind was howling in the Bosco, and thunder had been heard occasionally to echo in the region of the crater. Nevertheless, we were all very anxious to make the attempt, and a peasant was despatched to procure the mules and a guide. He soon returned, when we found to our dismay, that only two mules were to be had, all the others in the village being occupied at this season of the year in the vintage. But Gemmellaro insisted upon the requisite number of mules being obtained for our party, and the messenger was again despatched with orders not to return until the five mules were procured, besides a sixth one for the use of the guide. The three French gentlemen could not speak one word of English, and but little Italian; they were pleasant and courteous, and full of the vivacity so characteristic of the French nation. The mules arrived at last, and we all walked round to the albergo, where we found our guide ready equipped, with another man, who was to precede us on foot with a lantern. The moon had just risen, but there was not sufficient light to show us the path over the sharp and dangerous rocks of lava that formed the only road we had to traverse before we gained the woody region of the mountain. The wind grew louder, and we could distinctly hear it whistling among the ilex trees of the Bosco far above us. The priest hesitated; he feared the difficulties of the ascent, but the Frenchmen and myself were not so soon to be dismayed, and we therefore proceeded onwards. As I had neglected to provide myself with any extra clothing for the ascent, Dr. Gemmellaro very kindly lent me a warm Sicilian cloak, which I found of great service, as even at this early stage of our journey I felt the night air very cool, and the sudden change of temperature from the sultry atmosphere of the plains, could not very well be borne in a thin white dress. At half-past eight our cavalcade started from Nicolosi. Our guide, Antonio Massania, a tall, stout fellow, entirely enveloped in a huge Sicilian cloak, rode in our van, the man with the lantern walking by his side; next followed the three Frenchmen and myself; and the good Maltese brought up the rear. We presented a very formidable appearance, as our mules wound along one after another, threading their way amidst the sharp and broken lavas that strew the mountain road between Nicolosi and the Bosco. The dim light of the peasant's lantern was the pole-star by which we directed our steps, and as we found it was in vain to attempt to guide the mules in the dark, we let them take their own course, as they knew the track of the mountain paths far better than we did, and indeed it was well for us that the darkness concealed the dangerous and slippery passes from our sight, which, in our descent, the daylight revealed more fully to our view. Sometimes we stood on the brink of a black and rugged channel of lava, and at other times we were overlooking some fearful and giddy precipice. Nothing presents to the mind a more imposing idea of the vastness and sublimity of this stupendous mountain, than the immense extent of its own bulk when viewed from some elevated spot high up on its ascent. As we scaled height after height, and rock after rock, we could discover, on looking back, the steep sides of Etna alone, spreading out beneath us, whilst its base was enveloped in the dewy mists that extended far over the plains below the exalted situation on which we stood. This gave to it the appearance of a mountain in the clouds, isolated from all connecting or surrounding objects-a vast and mighty temple raised to the Deity-the pure sky and bright stars shining above, with a deep and boundless expanse of space below. I felt that there was something inspiring and elevating to the soul in such a lofty situation, raised above the insignificant turmoils of the myriads who people the wide earth-we seem for the moment to forget our own ephemeral existence, and the soul spreads its pinions, and soars away into higher, and more exalted regions. Can we wonder, then, that the ancients chose this mighty volcano as a fit spot whereon to rear their altars to the Etnean Jove? that they assigned its subterranean fires to Vulcan and Pluto, and entertained the belief that the infernal Hades lay beneath it, where Phlegethon and Styx rolled their pestiferous waves? Neither need we be astonished that the same faith in ancient lore taught that the fabled Cyclops, those mighty giants who ate men's flesh, and had but one eye in the centre of their foreheads, were the formidable and fearful race, whose abodes were in the recesses of the forests of Mongibello. We at last arrived at the Bosco, or woody region of the mountain, where the air felt quite keen, and the wind howled and whistled over our heads from the spreading ilex trees that are scattered about in great profusion over this region of the mountain. Beneath these trees the fern and the heather grow in great abundance, and the scenery resembles in its character that of an English park. The soil was sandy, and mixed up with ashes and lava; but the process of vegetable decomposition had produced in many places a light rich soil. We had proceeded thus far on our way very merrily; the excitement and novelty of the undertaking put the Frenchmen into high spirits, and whenever my mule loitered to crop the fern that grew every where in our path, one of the company behind was sure to call out with a jeu d'esprit, desiring me, (the Signor Inglese,) not to block up the pathway, and shouting out all the time, "Bambino bambino!" But the worst was to come, for whilst we were enjoying the dangers of the ascent, the wind increased in violence, and the distant howling of the wolf and the wild cat, combined with the low melancholy moan of the elements, filled the soul of the pious father with dismay; and to add to his perilous situation, he was ever and anon slipping off his mule behind, and clinging with all his might to the saddle a feat which only served to increase the fun of the Frenchmen and myself, who followed in the rear almost convulsed with laughter. As the difficulties of our path increased, the priest showed a great unwillingness to proceed, and a long conversation, which took place between him and the guides in Sicilian, but which none of us understood, afterwards proved that he had persuaded them to invent some excuse for abandoning the attempt to reach the "crater." On our arrival at the "Casa della Neve," or winter refuge, (a stone hut at the top of the Bosco,) the guide endeavoured to persuade us that the weather was so bad that to venture farther up the mountain, would be to hazard our lives; and that we should either be blown by the wind into the crater, or precipitated over the Val del Bue, a precipice of 1,000 feet in height! We all agreed to wait for an hour or two in hopes of a change of weather, and our guides having gathered a quantity of the dried fern and branches, which are kept in this hut for the accommodation of travellers, together with some charcoal which they had brought with them, soon made a blazing fire, around which we all lay stretched on our woollen cloaks. After taking some refreshment, and passing the time in attempting to sleep, glancing occasionally at the state of the weather outside the hut, we so far influenced the priest as to prevail on him once more to attempt the ascent. Remounting our mules, therefore, |