“Away, away, across the lake / . . . / The rock was high, the cavern dark / Scarce lit up by the jewelled spark, / Of the cold stream, that under earth /
Was darkling buried at its birth. / . . . / We launched again, and downward bore / Awhile beside the centre shore. / Then left the shadowy eastern lake”
(MS VIII; Poems [1891];
Works [1903])—The latter three lines in this passage confirm that, from line 15 (“Away, away, across the lake”),
Ruskin is referring to an excursion that the family made to the eastern shores of the lake on Monday, 17 June, after spending Saturday night and Sunday at
Cadenabbia;
then, as poem explains in conclusion, the family “launched” back across the lake to their hotel, and rowed south to
Como, taking in even more sights along the way. The sight on the opposite shore that
Ruskin
describes most particularly in the poem can be identified in
Mary Richardsonʼs diary account as the “torrent”
Fiumelatte,
which cascades into the lake below
Varenna, on the
Lecco side of the lake (
Diary of Mary Richardson, 1833, 43).
This is the “cold stream” that issues “darkling” from a subterranean source, in
Ruskinʼs lines.
Josiah Conder (
1789–1855),
the writer and compiler of the
“Modern Traveller” series of travel accounts, highlights this cascade in the seriesʼ
1831 volume on
Italy:
“The
Fiume di Latte (so called from the milky colour of the water) is one of the wonders of the lake, being an intermittent stream, and, according to some Italian antiquaries,
the one which
the younger Pliny refers to as being in the neighbourhood of his residence. . . . The
Fiume di Latte intermits wholly during the winter,
running only from March to September. It increases by degrees till it reaches its utmost height, and then decreases again till its bed again becomes dry.
There seems to be no reason to doubt that its semi‐annual course is occasioned by the melting of the snows in the higher mountains, though the length of the subterranean channel through which it flows is unknown.
Its excessive coldness is in favour of the supposition, that it is fed by some distant glacier; and its milky colour indicates that it has found or forced a channel through some limestone or calcareous formation.
It bursts forth with great impetuosity from its subterranean channel, tumbling down a broken declivity of nearly a thousand feet into the lake”
(
Conder, Italy, 1:332–33).
Mary Shelley could hear the “hollow roar of the mysterious torrent . . . borne, softened by distance, from the opposite shore”, when seated in the calm of evening at the lakeside in
Cadenabbia
(
Shelley, Rambles in Germany and Italy, 1:93).
Conder disputes the association of the
Fiumelatte with
Pliny; and the Ruskins likewise looked elsewhere for this classical location; see
“Villa Pliniana” and its contextual notes.
Also in connection with the
Fiumelatte,
Conder quotes from the popular travel account of the Continent,
Diary of an Invalid (
1820), by
Henry Matthews (
1789–1828). Relevant to the trope of describing the expanse of the lake,
Matthews orients the traveler to the waterfall as a checkpoint,
when sitting in a boat on the lake. Oppposite this “romantic little waterfall”, he writes, “there is a spot . . . from which you command a prospect of the whole scene”.
Without having to climb to “a birdʼs‐eye view”, which
Matthews regards as a “disadvantage”, one has “the three branches of the lake under your eye at once”
(
Conder, Italy, 1:331–33;
,
Matthews,
Diary of an Invalid, 304).