In
Another Minute I Withdrew, Carrying Half A Sheet Of Note-Paper On
Which Were Scrawled In Pencil A Few
Words, followed by the proud
signature "Berlinghieri." When I had deciphered the scrawl, I found
it was an injunction to
Allow me to view a certain estate "senza
nulla toccare" - without touching anything. So a doubt still
lingered in the dignitary's mind.
Cotrone has no vehicle plying for hire - save that in which I
arrived at the hotel. I had to walk in search of the orange orchard,
all along the straight dusty road leading to the station. For a
considerable distance this road is bordered on both sides by
warehouses of singular appearance. They have only a ground floor,
and the front wall is not more than ten feet high, but their low
roofs, sloping to the ridge at an angle of about thirty degrees,
cover a great space. The windows are strongly barred, and the doors
show immense padlocks of elaborate construction. The goods
warehoused here are chiefly wine and oil, oranges and liquorice. (A
great deal of liquorice grows around the southern gulf.) At certain
moments, indicated by the markets at home or abroad, these stores
are conveyed to the harbour, and shipped away. For the greater part
of the year the houses stand as I saw them, locked, barred, and
forsaken: a street where any sign of life is exceptional; an odd
suggestion of the English Sunday in a land that knows not such
observance.
Crossing the Esaro, I lingered on the bridge to gaze at its green,
muddy water, not visibly flowing at all. The high reeds which half
concealed it carried my thoughts back to the Galaesus. But the
comparison is all in favour of the Tarentine stream. Here one could
feel nothing but a comfortless melancholy; the scene is too squalid,
the degradation too complete.
Of course, no one looked at the permesso with which I presented
myself at the entrance to the orchard. From a tumbling house, which
we should call the lodge, came forth (after much shouting on my
part) an aged woman, who laughed at the idea that she should be
asked to read anything, and bade me walk wherever I liked. I strayed
at pleasure, meeting only a lean dog, which ran fearfully away. The
plantation was very picturesque; orange trees by no means occupied
all the ground, but mingled with pomegranates and tamarisks and many
evergreen shrubs of which I knew not the name; whilst here and there
soared a magnificent stone pine. The walks were bordered with giant
cactus, now and again so fantastic in their growth that I stood to
wonder; and in an open space upon the bank of the Esaro (which
stagnates through the orchard) rose a majestic palm, its leaves
stirring heavily in the wind which swept above. Picturesque,
abundantly; but these beautiful tree-names, which waft a perfume of
romance, are like to convey a false impression to readers who have
never seen the far south; it is natural to think of lovely nooks,
where one might lie down to rest and dream; there comes a vision of
soft turf under the golden-fruited boughs - "places of nestling
green for poets made." Alas!
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