Dreams, Waking Thoughts, and IncidentsBeckford, William
General
Dreams, Waking Thoughts, and Incidents
Beckford, William
Beckford, William, 1760-1844
Having refreshed ourselves with their cooling juice, we struck into a
grove of pines, the tallest and most flourishing perhaps we ever beheld.
There seemed no end to these forests, save where little irregular spots
of herbage, fed by cattle, intervened. Whenever we gained an eminence it
was only to discover more ranges of dark wood, variegated with meadows
and glittering streams. White clover and a profusion of sweet-scented
flowers clothe their banks; above, waves the mountain-ash, glowing with
scarlet berries; and beyond, rise hills and rocks and mountains, piled
upon one another, and fringed with fir to their topmost acclivities.
Perhaps the Norwegian forests alone equal these in grandeur and extent.
Those which cover the Swiss highlands rarely convey such vast ideas.
There, the woods climb only half way up their ascents, and then are
circumscribed by snows: here, no boundaries are set to their progress,
and the mountains, from their bases to their summits, display rich
unbroken masses of vegetation.
As we were surveying this prospect, a thick cloud, fraught with thunder,
obscured the transparence of the horizon, whilst flashes startled our
horses, whose snorts and stampings resounded through the woods. What
from the shade of the firs and the impending tempests, we travelled
several miles almost in total darkness. One moment the clouds began to
fleet, and a faint gleam promised serener hours, but the next all was
gloom and terror; presently a deluge of rain poured down upon the valley,
and in a short time the torrents, beginning to swell, raged with such
fury as to be with difficulty forded. Twilight drew on, just as we had
passed the most terrible; then ascending a steep hill under a mountain,
whose pines and birches rustled with the storm, we saw a little lake
below. A deep azure haze veiled its eastern shore, and lowering vapours
concealed the cliffs to the south; but over its western extremities a few
transparent clouds, the remains of the rays of a struggling sunset, were
suspended, which streamed on the surface of the waters, and tinged with
tender pink the brow of a verdant promontory.
I could not help fixing myself on the banks of the lake for several
minutes, till this apparition was lost, and confounded with the shades of
night. Looking round, I shuddered at a craggy mountain, clothed in dark
forests and almost perpendicular, that was absolutely to be surmounted
before we could arrive at Wallersee. No house, not even a shed
appearing, we were forced to ascend the peak, and penetrate these awful
groves.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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