Page:Once a Week Volume 7.djvu/299

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Sept. 6, 1862.]
UNDER THE LEMONS.
291

rooms were alike to him, and that it was always a pleasure to oblige a foreigner and a lady, with a flourish of his arm that was meant to be extremely elegant, but revealed a sad rent in his garment. We, however, still objected; but Madame C——u said we should only set the proprietor against him by refusing, and suggested that as we could not offer the Sordo a present, we might yet make the matter advantageous to him by offering to hire of him some wretched chairs and tables he possessed, and paying for them about five times more than they were worth. And so we did, and all parties were satisfied, and the Sordo returned to his eternal silence in the dark kitchen, and we set some stalwart peasants to scrub and whitewash our strange abode. This done, we also scrubbed the Sordo’s furniture, a proceeding which he regarded with the air of a man too polite to interfere even with mad people.

So here we have dwelt for two whole months, during which time I have grown quite attached to our tumble-down dwelling, which is on the edge of the lake, having a lovely view over to the Monte Baldo, on the opposite Tyrolese shore, and a terrace behind, looking over the lemon gardens that cover the mountains nearly half-way up. The male population of B—— are nearly all gardeners or fishermen. I say gardeners, because the wealth of the place consists almost entirely of its lemon gardens. The lemons are grown for exportation, and require great care and skill in their cultivation. The plants, or rather trees, rise to the immense height of eight metri (the metro here is a little longer than our yard) in about forty or fifty years, and there are some here said to be two centuries old.

They blossom all the year round, but most luxuriantly in May, and the lemons are gathered every month, for every month some portion of the golden store is ripe. The gardeners dig carefully round, and manure the trees twice a year, and they are abundantly watered every fortnight during the summer months. This is a very picturesque and laborious performance. To the gardens that can be so reached, the water is carried in queer shaped carts, such as they use here for wine, resembling an immense barrel set upon wheels, and drawn by the magnificent oxen of these parts. Where the gardens are only to be reached by narrow, precipitous footpaths, two men carry the water barrels slung between two poles, the ends of which they take upon their shoulders, and it is a painful sight to see them staggering, with bare feet, over the sharp stones and rocky pathways, under their heavy loads.

Huge square stone pillars are built at intervals of from six to eight feet along the terraced lemon gardens; into these are driven strong iron fastenings, to which are attached immense wooden shutters, by which the plants are closed in during the short winter. The majority of these shutters are of wood, so that the gardens are quite dark when they are closed; but a few of the richer lemon growers are now using glass. The gardens are closed towards the end of November, and opened again in the beginning of May; but there are very few days during the winter when they are not partially open from sun-rise to sun-down. In very cold nights, which are exceedingly rare on this shore, they light fires inside these temporary greenhouses, made of the small, well-dried wood of the olive. The simple thermometer used in these gardens is a cup of water placed near the tree roots; the gardeners watch this water, and if they see symptoms of freezing, they at once light their fires. This primitive method has the disadvantage of being very dangerous; the greatest care is required to prevent the trees themselves catching, and in spite of the watchfulness of the gardeners, who sit up all night on these occasions, some fearful catastrophes do occur; and a few strong-minded proprietors are beginning to introduce stoves, against which the gardeners entertain a very strong and, as it appears, unfounded prejudice.

They have even fancied, though I believe without reason, that these stoves have been the cause of a disease, similar to the vine disease, which during the last four or five years has caused a fearful destruction of property among the lemon gardens. The disease first shows itself in the roots, and no certain remedy has as yet been found, though many believe that sulphur, already successful in some few instances, may prove such when universally applied.

The lemons from the Lake of Garda are considered the best in Italy for purposes of exportation, as they can bear even the longest voyage without injury. The best are sent to Germany and Russia, and are sold at from seven to eight francs a hundred; the second class lemons are sold in Lombardy and Venetia; and the third class (those which fall from the tree) have always been regarded as the lawful property of the women of the families, who sell them at the low price of fifty or sixty centerimi a hundred, and consider the profits their pin-money. The lemons that are packed for exportation are wrapped one by one in clean paper, before being put in the cases prepared to receive them.

It is a pretty sight to see the women doing this: sometimes twenty or thirty together, sitting on low chairs in large rooms with myriads of lemons forming a golden carpet all round them. They wrap them completely and effectually with a clever twist of the soft paper in an instant, and sing in chorus as they sit at work. Garibaldi’s Hymn was always the favourite tune; one heard it from every house when packing was going on. I used to wonder how they could sing, for the smell of the fresh lemons, so delightful in a small quantity, is dreadfully oppressive when they are gathered together by thousands, in hot weather. Each case, packed for exportation, generally contains about 4500; they are sent across the lake to the Tyrol, to proceed, to proceed, viâ Austria, to their destination.

Since the emancipation of Lombardy from Austrian rule, all lemons passing through Austria pay a duty of two Austrian lire (one franc, ninety centimes) a hundred, even those which are only in transit. Hence they are sometimes smuggled, but not very generally, for the smugglers find they gain far more by smuggling sugar and coffee; and the large cases in which