Litchfield enquirer., 1881-12-15
sTEFANO.
A REMIN1soENoE OF SORRENTO.

I | Romance must, no doubt, ever continue tc
 play its part in life, even amid the prosac ma.
 teralism of modern civilization, but it can
 only survive stripped of all the accessories oi
 incident and adventure which lend themselvcs
 so readily to the trickery of the imagination.
 The glare of the gas lamp and the whistle oi the locomotive quickly dssDate the airy cloud
 of mystery, on which fancy loves to project
 her shadowy creations, and the artificial con-
 ditions of temporary life, if they cannot rob
 passion of all it's glamor, or pathos of all it's
 power, surround them with a complex mach
 inery of conventional details, amid which
 they seem incongruous and irrelevant. l,
 who, as an artist, am old-fashioned enough to
 prefer for the background of my pictures the immortal grace of southern nature-the im-
 mortal glow of southern sea and sky, to the unlovely architecture of manufacturing town, or the tawdry decorations of modern drawing-room, am keenly alive to the iniu- ence of local association; and the incidents
 which came under my observation during my wanderings in Italy are stamped on my mem- ory with vividness and intensity, which I believe are as much owing to the impressions
 made on my senses by the scenes in which | they took place, as to the interest of the cir | cumstances themselves.
 l Despite the avalanche of tourists which I every year descend from the north upon the
 italian towns, there are still remote hooks in the Peninsnla-among the -bleached crags l of the Carrara Alps on the chestnut-feathefed l spurs of the Appenines, and amid the lovely | curves of the Sorrentine and Amalftan shores where nature and man still retain some- thing of their primitive simplicity. Such l spots, but the latter more especially are my l favorite summer Launts. and there is scarcely l a cove or strand from Salerno round to Cas- tellammare which have not explored in my search after the picturesque. My practice was to hire for the season boat small enough
 for me to navlgate altogether myself. whether under sail or oars, in which, with my paint ing7gear slowed snugly in the stern, roamed the waters ID untrammelled freedom and in dependence. There was no appreciable risk in such solitary expeditions, for the summer weather in those favored regions has almost the regularity of the tropical seasons; the sun runs his course from horizon to horizon with out meeting a single feecy cloud to tarnish 1 his splendor for a moment. the land and sea breezes alternate by night and day with un- | varying punctuality, and the m0estr0le, or | west wind, the most dreaded on that coast, | scarcely ever blows with sufficient force to threaten shpwreck to childs paper aotilla. was therefore not a little astonished, when preparing one morning to start as usual, to be | addressed by mine host of the 'Syren" with a serious warning on no account to defer my return after sunse;, as there would inevitably be sea fog before the closing in of the night. l Though had considerable confidence in bis sagacity (the Italians of the lower class are the most infalble of weather prophets) ventured on this occasion to dispute his con- clusion and, looking out on the cioudless sky and translucent atmosphere, 1 asked him CD
 what mysterious symptom he based his pre- diction.
 He answered by swaying his extended palm softly up and down, to describe certain trenoRo di luce, visible on the horizon at sum- rise that morning, pronounced by him to be an unfailing indication of aqueous vapor in l the air, aud precursor of dense fog, when the moisture should be precipitated by the com l parativelY cool land breeze during the ensu- l ing night. ..... ........ ,r r.s l saw the justice of his reasoning, and prom l ised to bear it in mind in regulating my pro- l ceedngs, but as the day wore away in 'un- dimmed brilllancy it faded from my thoughts i in the interest UT my arIIstIc pursu1Js had steered my course seaward along the promon- tory which divides the bays ofNaples, Salerno, and, passing the Marina. or beach, of Massa Lubrense, had turned the Ponta della Cam panella, the extreme point of land beyond. The light sea breeze was just sufficient to urge my little skiff at an exhilaratng rate through the water, without calling for any at ! tention to the tackle by uncertain shifts or
 variations in it's force. So slipped along the shore like one in dream, watching the | wonderful flashing of tints and rays in the
 water like the play of light upon jewelry; re- l joicing in the tones of sunburnt umber with
 which the nearer rocks framed tine glittering waves and studying the changing outlines of Capri's purple crags as they were left behind,
 while the low isles of the Syrens became vis- l ible in the foreground Naples meantime showed glorified in golden light, across twen- l ty miles of sea ana air, and Vensuvius, it's mass defined by long curves sloping to the shores, ever exhaled plumy cloud from it's unquenchable heart of fire
 ] When reached the spot determined on for | my sketching ground, it was time for the mid day meal, with which Don Antonio, my good landlord, Tad freighted my tiny craft. A lit- 1 tie brown-skinned. bare-legged maiden came
 by before had finished, in charge of a flock of the long-eared goats of the country; and bribed her with the remains of my dinner and a few baiocchi to sit to me as a model. verify believe she thought was subjccting her to some evil spell, for she sat as if turned into stone with her large brown eyes fixed on me in awe-stricken wonder, and as soon as l dismissed her, crossed herself with an air of thanksgiving, and disappeared among the rocks with her charge. By that time l had
 
 ! which the rocks glowed like translucent am
 Der, and set to work in downright earnest to catch it ere it faded, quite oblivious of Don ! Antonio's warning. Hours flew by before the lengthening shadows made the prosecu- ton of my task impossible, and when em- parked for the return journey, having col l lected and slowed away all my goods and chattels, the sun was already hastening to the | crimsoning west, the Mediterranean was glow 1 ing with rose and crocus hues, and the sea breeze had dropped into dead calm, leaving me to work my way home with the oars. A zone of heavy purplish vapor girdling the hor-
 izon seemed to confirm my landlords predic- tion of foggy night, and urged me to work
 with will to anticipate its gathering obscu- rity. Yet, despite my exertions, ere l had turned the headland of the Campanela. white ghostly wreaths of cloud were stealing round and over me, and I had not pulled many
 strokes moro before was enveloped in dense vapor which shut out from my sight all save the base of the rocks immediately on my right. I Twas now in considerable embarrassment, for I was some miles from home, and though l for the moment was able as it were to feel my way by hugging the shore, the increasing darkness would soon make it. impossible to do 80 any longer. might indeed have given the shore berth, and steered by compass ap- proximatey in the direction of Sorrento, but should have been equally at loss to know I when and where to make the landing place. | In more open country, again, it might have
 been possible to beach my boat on the first
 strand, and, leaving her till morning, make
 my way home by land, but the peculiar char
 acter of cultivation prevailing in the Piano di
 Sorrento would make such an enterprise diff
 ficult, if not impossible. It is all laid out in
 orange gardens enclosed by walls from fifteen \ to twenty feet in height, hetween which run \ narrow that a pedestrian, meeting vehicle mutt efface aimlself to the. last point against
 one of the walls. to let it pass; while in case
 of two carriages meeting Fortunately rare
 occurrence), one of the two has to retreat backward to where the nearest intersecting Ilane affords little extra space for the other to go by. As these roads, or UiottoI. buried between their high walls, give no glimpse oi