The northern tribune. [volume] (Bath, Me.) 1847-1855, 1848-03-27
BATH. MONDAY MORNING, MARCH 27, ls4s,
From the Christian Mirror.
Mr.. Palmer's Sketches.
No. X.

beautiful Scenery Vaucluse-the Fountain
-Petrarch's ho"se-efects Of an inspiring
atmosphere-Pont du Gatard-Nimes-44m
phtthe0tre end Various Roman Yen,aias-the
Maison Carree-Arles-Ma rseilAes-Appear-
ance and Populatio,,-Eueaing on the Medi-
te7ranean.
1t was on one of the finest days of that fine
climate, and with every circumstance just ac-
cording to our wishes, that we made our pill
grimage to the famous fountain of Vaucluse,
the wild, romantic, beautiful retreat of Pc
trarch the spot in which he gave uterance,
in his magni6cently tender Sonnets, to his
passion for Poetry and Laura. To which he
was really most devoted, is point not we'll
decided and on which I will not venture an
opinion, lest should feel obliged to take the
least popular side of the question. Enough
that he has honored both, having embalmed
the name of Laura in imperishable song
Petrareh's Fountain is about twenty miles
Eastward from Avignon. We took pair Of
horses, with driver and started at an early
hour. The route lies thro' a plain diversified
with just a sufficient number of hills to afford
fine views of the whole region, and as beauti-
fully fertile and picturesque as possible. In
| the distance were seen, on either hand, ranges
of lofty mountains capped with snow and
all along the way were Aourishing vineyards,
olive orchards by hundreds of acres just COM
| ing into flower, figs and almonds almost ripe,
in great abundance, wheat, rye and oats nod
| ding in the ear mowers engaged in cutting
and gathering the hay which filed the air with
its fragance, and finally, wild flowers of end
less, and many of them splendid varieties, and
entirely new to us, in the very perfection of
| their bloom. think it must be rare to find
SO many things at once to make ride delight
full. But then the Fountain Petrarch and
Laura these after all were uppermost in our
thoughts. las we came into the immediate
neighborhood of the place, we perceived that
we were treading on classic ground. Even
the little dirty hotel, at which we left our
horses and took guide, bears on its front the
above mentioned illustrious name. We were
soon on our way to the Fountain itself. We
had been riding for some miles along the banks
of the charming little river, the Sorgue, which
issued from this source, and had admired the
limped waters, perfectly transparent, and yet
of a rich cerulean color now we walked be-
side it little distance, and then over little
bridge beneath which it dashes with head
long speed, and beautiful minglng of white
and blue. Passing the bridge, you stand in
front of grand cliff rising perpendicularly
nearly eight hundred feet. You ascend by a
winding path along the rapid stream to the
base of the mountain, and there, under the
shelving rock, you find natural reservoir,
some fifty feet across, and said to be on one
side more than hundred feet in depth. The
sun never shines into it. The water lies per-
fectly tranquil, is of the deepest blue, and on
the shallower side, you can see the pebbles GO
shelving down as far as the eye can follow
them. When there is abundance of water, il
flows over the top; but at the time of oul
visit, it found its way out by channels fal
below the surface and came gushing and
foaming through the rocks at some distance
from the Fountain. All about the Fountain
and the stream, we found in bloom the most
beautiful wild flowers; among which the
wild thyme, SO classical and suitable for such
place was remarkable for its fragrance; and
1 noticed the wild bee gathering its sweets as
in the days of Virgil. A little way down the
stream, under the cliff of shelving rock
stands the house in which Petrarch lived
The interior of this has been femodeled, and
the stairs and some other parts are preserved
in the museum at Aries. But there is the
very spot in which the great poet felt his in